Fame Isn\\\'t Everything

"We've lost Neville, you realise," Luna said casually to Mad-Eye Moody as they entered Gringott's bank.

"He'll be all right," growled Moody. "We don't have time to go back and look for him. He knows how to Apparate, right?"

Luna shrugged and bowed to a nearby goblin who tripped over the wheelbarrow of galleons he was pushing.

"I have no idea. But I'm sure he can't have gone too far. So what is it that we're picking up here?"

"Something that could mean a lot to the Order and Ginny Weasley," replied Moody.

"She's going to have to stand trial, isn't she?"

"Most likely, unless the proper culprit is caught, which is our job. But I won't lie to you, Lovegood." He grinned in his horrifying way, but Luna smiled back. "It would be a waste of time."

They climbed into a cart, and a goblin instructed them to hold on tight as they sped off into the dark mines. They were quiet for several minutes, ducking to avoid low stalactites, before Luna spoke.

"Then what's the trouble?"

"Well, most likely, Weasley's going to be sent to Azkaban."

Luna was silent. "Can't we do something about that?"

Moody didn't reply, and Luna decided not to push the issue. They rode in silence down the cart tracks and Luna didn't even bother to turn around to catch sight of the dragons which guarded the high security vaults. When they reached vault 133 the cart stopped and Moody got off.

The goblin, whose name Luna hadn't caught, stroked the lock until it melted away and the door swung open. Taking two hobbling steps forward, Moody picked up the contents of the vault and hid it under his cloak. All Luna could see was that it was about the size of a breadbox.

She folded her arms and looked smug. "You do realise I will find out what that is eventually."

"Of course," replied Moody. "Just not yet. Come along, we might as well see if we can find Longbottom. We're already late."

As they walked through Diagon Alley, Luna window shopped, idly wondering how long it would take her to rob each one. She somewhat fancied the glowing orange ceremonial robes in the window of Madam Malkin's. A few hexes, curses, and a strategically placed poodle and the store was her shellfish.

It was while she was staring at the windows that someone else was watching her.

"Mr. Moody? I don't think he's here. We ought to just go, he can find his way back. Perhaps he's already gone."

Moody looked at her suspiciously. "Something wrong?"

Luna shrugged. "Just a feeling. An odd feeling. I think someone's watching."

"That is nothing new. We're under constant surveillance. I have a hard time keeping track of them all. We'd best get back to the manor. Let's Apparate, it will be quicker."

"No." Luna put a hand on his wrist. "They'll be expecting that."

Moody's eye rolled wildly as he jumped around looking for suspicious activity. "Who?"

"I don't know, not yet. Let's continue walking. We may yet find Neville, and I don't want anyone following us. We might betray the rest of the Order."

He seemed insulted at that notion. "I don't know about you, Lovegood, but I happen to be able to hold up under torture."

"I'm not talking about torture," she said grimly. "They could follow us back to the headquarters. We need disguises. " Luna seemed vaguely happier at this idea. "I've always wanted to do this. Come along."

Dragging him across the street, Luna dodged into a shop which catered specifically to the Muggleborn crowd who still favoured the Muggle way of celebrating Halloween, but wanted something special that reflected their magic powers. It was one of her favourite stores.

A few minutes and several purchases later, a brunette in a fluorescent green miniskirt and platform shoes walked out. She tapped her foot on the sidewalk and ignored the bewildered looks of many witches and wizards. After a minute, she let out a piercing whistle.

"Alastor, we don't have all day!"

A man stumbled out of the store, hunched over as if to disguise his true height, and came to a stop at the brunette's side.

"Lovegood, I don't feel right about this."

"Nonsense, I think that coat looks brilliant on you."

"Really?" Moody's eye rolled around behind his new sunglasses as he took in the large red jacket with brass buttons. "But I'm not sure about these trousers."

"Nonsense, black is very slimming."

"It isn't the colour I'm objecting to. It's the...shape. They...poof. And they don't fit right around my leg."

Luna took a deep, relaxing breath. She felt much better now that they were disguised; no one would be able to recognise them now.

"Don't you feel that we stand out in these outfits?" asked Moody uncomfortably. "I think our best solution is to change back and return to Grimmauld Place."

"The first rule of espionage," instructed Luna, "be very visible. Things that are so visible that they are flashy and ostentatious couldn't possibly be trying to hide, right? Therefore people dismiss them and look instead for something that is trying to look subdued and invisible. And we can't go back now. Please trust me."

"I'm not sure I understood that."

"Let me see if I can think of an example. Hm. All right, let's say there were two spies and a third spy who was trying to catch them. The first spy dresses in camouflage and attempts to blend in the background as all spies are taught to do. The second spy dresses in bright reds and yellows and makes no effort to disguise himself. Well, if you were the third spy, wouldn't you look for the spy trying to hide himself? After all, no self-respecting spy would just shout to the world, 'Look at me!'"

"I think perhaps I see your point, Lovegood. You have quite the devious mind," he said admiringly. "Now, can you think of where Longbottom might be?"

"No, but since we're here, do you mind if I check on my store? I'm afraid it'll be a mess."

"I suppose, if you can make it quick."

"Like lightning, I promise."

Luna continued down the street with Moody following. She tried to shake the feeling of being watched, but it refused to be dislodged. And she knew it wasn't because of the stares she was receiving due to her outfit; someone was following her and keeping a persistent eye on her.

"I'll wait across the street, Lovegood, and keep an eye out."

Nodding and ignoring the feeling for the time being, she walked up to the Moonstone Bookshop and peered in the window. It was certainly a disaster. But at least the contents of the store hadn't been stolen. Then she noticed there was a sign on her door that certainly hadn't been there before. Before she could read it, a hand reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her around the corner into a small alleyway.

"Miss Lovegood! Thank goodness, I was so worried."

Luna pushed some of the false brown hair from her eyes to peer at the only reporter The Quibbler had. Herbert Friedman was a rather serious young man, which made his choice to work on The Quibbler and with Luna very odd indeed, but he didn't seem to mind her unique qualities and showed no surprise at seeing Luna's strange outfit.

"Friedman?" Luna said, surprised. "Where have you been? I hope you know I'm docking your pay."

"Miss Lovegood." Herbert seemed very perplexed. "When was the last time you visited the shop?"

"I was just about to look." Luna looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"

"Oh," he squeaked, "Well...you see..."

"Spit it out," instructed Luna.

Herbert opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted when a large hand came out of nowhere and began to throttle him.

"Are you all right, Lovegood?" asked Moody whose coat was straining at the seams.

"I'm fine," Luna said, waving a hand. Herbert rasped and struggled as he turned blue. "Let him go, he works for me."

Looking sceptical, Moody released the poor unfortunate man. Luna began to tap her platforms and crossed her arms.

"All right, Friedman, what is it?"

"The shop's been seized!" he coughed.

Luna froze. "What?"

But she didn't wait for a response. Running towards her shop, Luna read the sign on her door for the first time and let out a small squeak.

"I'll kill them," she said simply, irritably brushing some of the hair from her face. There was a tap on her shoulder, and assuming it was Moody, she turned. She came face to face with a Militia officer.

"Luna Lovegood? I'm afraid you're under arrest for conspiracy against the government."

Luna sighed and then smiled at the officer. "Oh, you have nothing to be afraid of. Yet." She glanced over his shoulder. "Moody? Would you mind removing this obstacle in our path?"

The Militia man never saw it coming and was laid out flat on the cobblestones a moment later. Now Luna was really irritated.

"Friedman, tell Stokes to keep an eye on the store and let me know what happens. I want you to accompany us."

"Lovegood, is that wise?" asked Moody, who watched Herbert suspiciously. The reporter attempted to look innocuous.

"It's time to accomplish something. Everyone is dying to get an interview with Ginny, so we'll do it first. She can trust me to be honest and accurate. And a proper article on her will do a great deal of good. It might even influence the trial if we can get it done soon enough. So Friedman will accompany us. Let's go."

Deciding that there was no sense in arguing with her, Moody followed Luna in her miniskirt and platforms down Diagon Alley. Herbert, having known Luna longer, was already walking.

~~~

There was a brief knock on his door. With his back to it, Percy said quietly, "Come in, McDonald."

Natalie didn't bother to ask him how he knew it was her. She simply entered and dropped a pile of papers on his desk, then collapsed in a nearby chair with a hand to her head.

"This is getting out of control, sir. Everyone wants to know what progress has been made toward finding Jack. I have three very important ambassadors in my office at this moment! What can I tell them?"

Percy sighed and stared out of his office window. "Tell them inquiries are proceeding and that we are confident we will find him soon." He paused. "Tell me, McDonald, what do you think has happened?"

"What do you mean, sir?"

"I mean, who do you think has Jack?"

"Well, what about that Weasley girl, didn't you think she was involved somehow?" Natalie was a bit confused. Percy's appearance had declined since Jack had been kidnapped; the dark circles under his eyes showed that he wasn't sleeping, more lines appeared on his face by the hour, and his bright red hair was turning grey at a startling rate. In short, he looked as though the past few days had been a lifetime.

"She will stand trial as is required, but no, I don't really believe she was involved. She makes a nice scapegoat for Jack's Militia, but she'll go free after the trial. No, McDonald, we have to find the real culprit. And in the meantime we will have to come up with something to keep the reporters at bay. That is where you come in. I'm relying on you to think up a solution, McDonald. Bring in whomever you must, but we can't continue to sit around waiting. We'll have to take action."

Natalie preened visibly. The Minister was relying on her. "Sir, what about the ransom note?"

Turning in an instant, he snapped, "How did you know about that? Have you leaked it to anyone?"

Frightened, Natalie shook her head. "No, sir, I swear. I overheard Pritchard and Hopkirk discussing it. But if we have a ransom demand, then we can get Jack back, can't we?"

"Don't be an idiot, McDonald," Percy said, shaking his head. "The Ministry won't supply the money. No, we'll have to continue the search for Barnes ourselves. And at the moment, our only clue is this." He held a piece of parchment tightly in his hand.

"What would you like me to do, Minister?" Natalie asked, somewhat nervously.

"You can start by getting Miss Hopkirk in here. Where is she? I sent Pritchard for her more than an hour ago!"

"I think she's left early, Minister. She said something about having a train to catch, going to visit a sick aunt, I believe."

"Very well. Send the next available assistant in to see me, and send an owl to my wife letting her know I won't be home in time for dinner."

"Sir," Natalie said, gathering her courage, "I am not Emily Hopkirk."

Percy looked up at her in surprise. "Yes, I am aware of that."

"I am not your assistant, sir, and we are in the middle of a crisis that demands my immediate attention. You have already given me instructions, I don't have time to write to your wife." She cringed slightly, waiting for the rebuke.

Opening his mouth to shout, Percy shut it instead. Forcing a smile, he nodded. "You are absolutely right. I apologise. Go do what you must, I'll send the owl."

He sat down at his desk and took out a quill and an ink bottle. Deciding that their meeting was finished, Natalie left and returned to her office where she repeated the Minister's message word for word to the diplomats waiting. Unhappily they accepted it and returned to report to their governments. Breathing a sigh of relief, Natalie took a seat behind her desk and closed her eyes.

The Minister said Ginny Weasley wasn't involved. Well, the next best solution was that it was a group of Death Eaters out for revenge. After all, Jack Barnes had destroyed their leader. The only problem with that was that most of the Death Eaters were in prison. So that would be the first step: she would have to make a list of the Death Eaters who were still free and narrow that down to those who had the opportunity.

After three hours and many interdepartmental memos, she ended up with a list of seven. Scribbling in notes next to each name the completed list looked like this:

Bellatrix Lestrange: sighted briefly in Germany three years ago; hasn't been seen since. Known for being at You-Know-Who's right hand. Her husband Rodolphus was killed in a duel with Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Gregory Goyle: too stupid to bother with, and too stupid to think up a scheme as complicated as a kidnapping. However, had both means and opportunity.

Kenneth Avery: currently residing in St. Mungo's, a closed ward. Could possibly leave to kidnap Barnes, but unlikely. Reportedly confined to a bed after he was tortured by his fellow Death Eaters for cowardice. Might be a cover story.

Pansy Parkinson: never a confirmed Death Eater, but she was associated with 'that crowd'. Last seen in Colombia eight months ago.

Vincent Crabbe: see Goyle.

Natalie's quill paused. There was one more name. None of her sources could dig up much information on him, and they all said he wasn't officially a Death Eater. Then again, neither was Parkinson, and he had been quite close to her. He may have had an alibi, but Natalie had never liked him and wouldn't put it past him to be involved somehow. So she added him to the list.

~~~

Taking a deep breath, Ginny stepped out of the fireplace into an unfamiliar room. It was sparse and cold, and she could see the clouds of her breath hovering in front of her face. Her heart was beating rapidly. It had worked just as she had planned; a simple reverse transportation spell on the fireplace Tonks had come out of in Grimmauld Place and now she was standing in Harry Potter's cabin. It was a bit much to take in but she steeled herself for whatever would come next. As she stepped aside, Snape stepped out and surveyed the room with distaste.

"With all the money Potter has, he can't afford a nicer place?"

"He doesn't have much money," Ginny said absently. "Not anymore. It's locked in his Gringott's vault. After the war, he decided he didn't want it."

"Didn't want it?" replied Snape blankly. "Has he completely lost his mind?"

Ginny shrugged. "That's what we're here to find out." A moment of panic overtook her. "Do I look all right?"

"I don't know what you have been told, Miss Weasley, but I am not in the habit of offering fashion advice. Adjust your robes, for Salazar's sake, you look like you've been through a tornado. Where is he?"

A brief nod was the only response she received, but she took it. Stepping gently into the next room, Ginny was shocked to see the level of decay in what she supposed was Harry's bedroom. Wandering through it, Ginny brushed her fingertips over the bedside table, picked up a broken watch, the hands of which were stopped at twelve and two, and stopped to look at the two picture frames which sat there. When she realised what they were pictures of, she gasped.

Tearing herself away from the image of herself and her friends celebrating, she bent before a trunk at the foot of his bed, which was barely more than a cot with one thin blanket. With a twinge of guilt, she opened it. It was empty except for a book which seemed to be a scrapbook.

Now deadly curious, Ginny flipped it open. It was filled with newspaper clippings, each one having to do with Jack Barnes. Titles leapt out at her like, 'World Leaders Call for Barnes To Take MoM Position!' and 'Barnes Vows to See All Death Eaters Behind Bars'.

"Oh, Harry," she murmured. Her heart went out to him. The clippings, the photographs, he was stuck in the past, and it was her job to bring him into the present. He couldn't continue to dwell on the events of seven years ago, he had to take his place in the world as he was meant to, and she would see him do so no matter what. Gently she replaced the book in the trunk and closed it. Then she stood up to return to the living room. But as she turned, she stopped dead in her tracks.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He hadn't changed much, she thought absently. Same hair, same eyes, except that they were so angry now. Harry seemed livid, and Ginny backed up several paces, tripping on the rug.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry, I just came to speak to you."

He suddenly seemed to recognise her. "You. Get out."

Taken aback at the venom in his voice, Ginny stammered, "But, wait, I have to speak to you."

"You've spoken. Leave my home. Doesn't anyone knock any more? First I had to deal with Tonks, now you? Can't you just leave me alone?"

Regaining her courage, Ginny took a step towards him. "No. Not until you listen to me."

"I don't want to listen to you." He walked into his kitchen with Ginny following closely behind. She glanced around quickly for Snape but didn't see him. "I want you out of my house. Damn it, what gives you the right to come here? How the hell did you even find me? You, of all people?"

"What do you mean, 'me of all people'?"

Harry didn't answer her immediately. He opened the refrigerator door, and looked surprised when he faced her again.

"Are you still here?"

"Harry," Ginny said, ignoring his rude attempts to brush her away, "we need your help. I need your help. Please. Come back with me."

"You don't need me," replied Harry, biting into an apple. "You never did. You have Barnes."

The venom in his tone was appalling and only made Ginny furious.

"But Barnes is missing!" she cried. "I know Tonks told you! Someone's kidnapped him and everyone thinks I did it!"

"Did you?"

"You can't be serious," Ginny said, aghast. Harry shrugged.

"You have motive."

"Just because I don't like the man? What about you?" Ginny spat. "You have motive as well, did you do it? I saw that scrapbook, Harry. That's called evidence."

"No," he corrected, "that's called private property, which you had no right to be looking at. Get out of my life, Ginny, you have no business storming into it after so long. Can't you just forget me like the rest of the world?"

Something in that question caused Ginny to stop and look up at him. "No. I could never forget you. Have you lost your mind? You're Harry Potter. You've had such a profound influence on my life, for better or worse, I could never forget you! And neither could the rest of the world. Everyone knows of you!"

Harry emitted a short bitter laugh. "Obviously you haven't spoken to many people outside your family recently."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ginny demanded, her hands on her hips.

"It didn't really work the way I had intended it," Harry mused, no longer paying attention to her. He acted as if he were alone in the room. "I'm not powerful enough, unfortunately. My rather emotional state helped, I believe. Magic is always at its strongest when one is angry or upset."

"Harry, what are you talking about?" For a moment, Ginny forgot the history between them. She was concerned by his behaviour and wanted to know what he meant by it.

Turning towards her and meeting her eyes for the first time since he had caught her in his bedroom, Harry smiled. The smile was so cold and emotionless that it made Ginny shudder and look away.

"The spell, of course. When I left England I knew I'd never find a moment's peace, not being who I was. After all, as you so generously pointed out, I was known around the world as the Great Harry Potter. So I cast a spell, sort of a world-wide Obliviate. It was supposed to wipe my existence from everyone's mind so that perhaps I could live a normal life for once, but instead all that it accomplished was to make the world a bit muddled whenever my name was mentioned. Good enough, I suppose. At least I don't have reporters hounding my door."

Ginny shook her head. "That's impossible. I haven't forgotten you, not at all. Ron, Hermione, the rest of the Order, they haven't forgotten you either!"

Without indicating that the mention of his former best friends or the Order to which he had belonged bothered him, Harry said, "Yes, well, I have Dumbledore to thank for that, the old fool. He suspected the time would come when I'd want to escape the pressures of my name, so he ensured that any spell I would perform would be useless against any member of the Order of the Phoenix, past, present, or future. It actually was a wasted precaution since my little charm doesn't seem to work on anyone I've had prolonged contact with."

Shocked at the anger in his voice at the mention of Dumbledore, Ginny could only stare blankly at the man before her. She barely knew him anymore, and yet she was certain that the Harry she had known was still in there somewhere. He couldn't have disappeared completely.

"Look, I need your help to figure out what happened to Barnes. I'm offering you a chance to take back what was yours."

"No, you're offering me a chance to play your little sidekick. What use could I possibly be to you? I'm not the person I was, Ginny, thank goodness. I'm not the Famous Harry Potter you used to have a schoolgirl crush on. Go back to England and deal with your problems like a grown woman."

Appalled, Ginny took a step toward him and slapped him sharply across the face. His brows narrowed, but he said nothing.

"How dare you," she said in a low tone. "Do you think that's why I used to fancy you? Is it? Then you're even thicker than I thought you were. I didn't fancy you because you were famous. I fancied you because you were you. Great, good, kind, and brave. Everything the papers proclaimed about you, it was true." Her brown eyes flashed. "I suppose it's all a lie now. But I remember that you saved me, you were a hero when I was just a scared eleven year old girl who was being tormented by the sixteen-year-old spirit of Lord Voldemort."

At those words Harry let out a cry like a wounded animal and clutched his head. Panicking slightly, she conjured him a glass of water, half of which he threw on his reddened face.

"Harry?" Ginny cried, concerned. He ignored her.

Gasping slightly, he said harshly, "And that's what you expect me to do again, isn't it? You want me to play the hero and rescue you from this mess you're in. Well, let me tell you something: I am not going to follow you around London looking for information as to the whereabouts of a man I couldn't care less about."

"Oh, you care about him," Ginny said coldly. "You obsess over him! He stole your life, isn't that it, Harry? That's what you believe, what you've convinced yourself. Well, I have news for you. He didn't steal anything you didn't give freely."

"After everything you did, Ginny, you have nerve speaking to me like this."

Sitting down at his kitchen table, Ginny looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. As calmly as she could, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"Don't pretend with me. I remember the battle as clearly as you do, and I remember you with Draco Malfoy."

Feeling as though someone had poured ice water down her back, she tried to keep her voice steady when she replied.

"It was a spell." She dropped to a whisper. "You never gave me a chance to tell you."

"Well, now is the perfect opportunity."

"No, it's too late. I...I can't do it now. You either have to trust me again, or not. I can't...I just can't. Not to you."

"Why not to me? Don't I deserve an explanation for your betrayal? I'd say so."

There was a pause. "It isn't that you don't deserve one, it's that I can't give you one. I've only just realised that the story I told my family isn't adequate for you. All I can tell you is this: I never loved Draco Malfoy, and when I betrayed you, it was the worst moment of my life."

"That's not good enough." For a moment there was desperation in Harry's eyes, the smallest glimmer of vulnerability. "Do you have any idea what it was like to watch you with him? My enemy? Do you? To know that you told him everything, that you cared more for him than me?"

Ginny met his stare. "Do you have any idea what it felt like when you left us? You were everything to us, Harry. Our hope, our leader, our saviour. And you just abandoned us, walked away like we didn't matter."

Harry appeared unmoved by her pretty little speech. "And you're asking me to return to the life I left behind to help you clear your name. Speaking of which, aren't you here illegally? Are you on parole? I was under the impression that convicted criminals weren't allowed to leave the country."

"I haven't been convicted of anything," Ginny snapped. "And for your information, I was accompanied here."

"Accompanied?" Harry froze. "By whom?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter. Or is it good morning? I'm afraid I am not very good with time changes."

Harry turned to face the subject of several school-based nightmares. Severus Snape was staring at him with his arms crossed. Odd, Harry thought irrelevantly, he used to loom. Perhaps I've just grown. He's not particularly frightening now.

"Professor Snape," Harry said, inclining his head. "I might have known you wouldn't pass up a chance to torment me."

"You misunderstand, Potter, as usual. As Mrs. Day's temporary guardian, it is my responsibility to watch her, even if that means travelling to Canada."

"Mrs. Day?" Harry repeated, turning from Snape to look at Ginny again. "You're married?"

"Divorced," Ginny answered, frowning at Snape. "May we please return to the topic at hand?"

"You've wasted your time," Harry said, folding his arms. "Get out now."

"And we were just beginning to share," said Ginny sarcastically. "Very well, I can see you won't be of any help. I'll leave. But if you change your mind, and to judge from your current lifestyle I can see there's very little chance of that, you know where to find me. Come along, Professor Snape, we had better return before we're missed."

With a slight sniff, she turned on her heel and returned to the fireplace, where, taking a pinch of Floo powder, she lit a fire and tossed it on the flames, crying, "Twelve Grimmauld Place!"

Harry turned his back to Snape and sat down at his kitchen table, preparing to eat. When he realised the older wizard was still there, he turned in his seat and glared.

"Aren't you supposed to follow her?"

"I can't see that a few minutes will make a difference. She isn't a hardened criminal. But I have to admit, I'm very curious..."

"Oh really? About what?"

"Let's find out, shall we? Legilimens!"

Fragments of memories flew past his eyes and desperately he reached out for them, trying to keep them from Snape. Images of himself facing Voldemort, of the last time he spoke to Ron and Hermione, of watching Albus Dumbledore die.

"Tut, tut, Potter," said Snape, smirking. "You never did practice."

More memories escaped despite his struggles to keep them locked away. He saw himself escaping from the protection offered to him by Hogwarts around the time Ginny had disappeared, he watched as Remus fell to the ground before him, his leg gushing blood. Finally he couldn't take it any more, and he refused to let that vile man invade his private thoughts any more.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Head," Harry shouted through gritted teeth. His head pounding so hard he thought it would rip open, he threw himself to the floor and was rewarded as the pressure lifted on his mind.

Heaving and dripping sweat, Harry got shakily to his feet and faced his tormentor. He took out his wand and held it towards Snape, completely irate.

"You had no right to do that," Harry said viciously. "I'll kill you for that, and no one will ever know."

Snape wasn't listening. He looked both horrified and amused. Wiping away a trail of blood from a small gash that ran down his cheek, a smirk slowly crossed his lips.

"So, this is what has become of the famous Harry Potter. He is a coward and a liar. Even I can't believe you'd let her torture herself like this. That is low, Potter. You had the power to make it all go away, to erase the pain of the past seven years, but instead you augmented it to alleviate your own guilt. You would have made a spectacular Slytherin." He nodded. "Goodbye. Twelve Grimmauld Place!"

And just that quickly he was gone through Harry's broken fireplace. Wishing all sorts of painful and destructive curses upon him, Harry winced, clutching his ribcage, and sat down again.

That bastard. Who knew what he had seen? He could ruin everything Harry had been working for--there was no choice but to go after him and put a stop to him. A memory charm, anything.

Who was he fooling? He had known he would return to England the moment he had caught sight of Ginny. She had been just as he remembered and at the same time completely different. And as much as he hated to admit it, he owed this to her. She claimed she needed his help, and in a terrible way it felt nice to be needed. He would go.

It was a momentous decision that he made in an instant, which only proved that he had never fully let go of his old life. Tonks's reappearance had given him time to adjust to the idea, and he had known that others would follow. Now he would be stepping back into the world he had abandoned and he knew that the world might not want him back. It was a chance he would have to take.

There was no time like the present, and he had better go as soon as possible so that he could stop Snape from revealing everything he had seen. He went into his room and packed a bag. After a moment's hesitation he placed the two photographs of the Order of the Phoenix in with his clothing. Then he returned to the fireplace.

With a sigh, he tossed Floo Powder on the fire, and with a wince he called out, "Twelve Grimmauld Place!"

Stepping out of the fireplace, he wiped the soot off his spectacles and coughed several times.

"I knew you would come."

Harry listened for signs of gloating, but there were none. Ginny sounded absolutely sincere, as if her deepest wish had just come true.

"I'm here," he replied, "but if I'm going to help you, I want to make something clear. I will make choices, and my decisions are not to be questioned. Not by you, not by anyone else. If they are, then I'll leave. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly," Ginny replied calmly. "And I want to make something clear to you: you won't get a clean slate, so don't ask for it. Be who you are, and you'll earn their respect. That will have to satisfy you."

"I won't ask for respect I haven't earned," said Harry in an even tone. "But even if I don't get it from anyone else, I will have to have your trust."

"Do you trust me?"

Harry looked at her. This is Ginny Weasley, he reminded himself. Then he suddenly realised he didn't need reminding.

"I think it's very likely."

Her brown eyes searched his green ones. "Then perhaps I can trust you."

Harry nodded. "Show me to command central."

As he followed Ginny down the stairs of what had once been his godfather's house, echoes of whispers danced around him. Harry shivered.

He felt as if someone had walked over the ground that would one day be his grave.

~~~

"Dad?" Bill Weasley called into the empty, echoing house. He took a few steps into the hallway and swept some of the hair from his eyes. "Dad? Are you here?"

Hearing the creaking of the stairs, Bill turned and caught sight of his father descending. The elder Weasley peered over the railing, squinting slightly and then taking his glasses from the top of his head and placing them where they belonged.

"Bill? My goodness, is that really you?"

"It's good to see you, Dad," Bill said warmly, hugging his father when the latter reached the bottom of the staircase. "I hope Minerva or Remus has been keeping you up to date?"

"I'm not such an old man, Bill," Arthur smiled, taking a seat in his armchair. "Minerva is a good deal older than I am although it is impolite to mention a lady's age."

"Yes, but she is in better health. Has she told you that Ginny is safe?"

"Yes, and that all of my sons are here in London, though you are the first to visit."

"Well, I'm sure the others will be along soon," said Bill taking a seat on the worn sofa opposite his father. "Things are a trifle hectic back at Grimmauld Place."

"I imagine so. I've had no end of reporters knocking down the door. Once they finally realised Ginny wasn't here and that I wasn't going to be answering their questions they trickled away. But enough about that. How's my eldest boy?"

"Rather well, actually. This was all a bit sudden and strange, of course, but a little excitement was a welcome distraction. Fleur and I were actually finding things a bit dull!" He laughed.

"And how is Fleur?" Arthur looked around the room. "Is she here? I haven't seen her in quite some time. Still as lovely as ever, I imagine."

Bill hesitated a moment. "She isn't here. She stayed behind in France for the time being. But she is well, and, yes, still beautiful."

Arthur seemed surprised. "She stayed behind? While you're risking your life? That doesn't sound like Fleur."

Sighing, Bill placed his head in his hands. "No, it doesn't, does it? Something is the matter with her, Dad. I could tell something was bothering her but she wouldn't tell me what it was, and then I had to leave. She asked to come with me, but I knew it would be too dangerous for her. She hasn't had any formal training, you know."

Patting his son's shoulder lightly, Arthur chuckled. "You underestimate her abilities, Bill. But tell me, have you married her yet? It seems to be the fashion for my children to marry without telling me."

"If you're referring to Ron and Hermione, I can assure you it came as a surprise to the rest of us as well. Not that they actually married, if there was ever a pair who acted like an old married couple it was them, but that they never told anyone."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I didn't, did I?" Bill ran his fingers through his hair and summoned a teakettle from the kitchen and conjured some water to boil. "No, Fleur and I aren't married. I'd rather not discuss it, if that's all right with you."

Arthur shrugged. "If you prefer. We can discuss something else. How have you been keeping yourself busy lately anyway? You move around so often you can't possibly keep a steady job."

"So you're going to pester me about that now?" But he was smiling. "I still work for Gringott's, they have branches all over France, and I do a lot of my work via owl, if you can believe that. Money isn't really a concern. Fleur and I are just enjoying life, we don't want to be tied down anywhere."

"Are you certain that's how Fleur feels?" Arthur asked gently.

"Well, of course, she would have told me if she wasn't happy." But he sounded uncertain. "You don't suppose I made the wrong choice in coming here, do you?"

Arthur sighed and poured them tea in two mismatched mugs. "I can't tell you that, Bill. But Weasley men are rather notorious for not understanding women. If she was unhappy when you left, it might not have been a wonderful idea to leave without finding out what was upsetting her."

"Perhaps I should owl her. Dad, are you all right here? Now that Ginny has to be kept under surveillance, you're alone. Why don't I stay with you?"

'That's kind of you, my boy," Arthur smiled, "but you're needed at Twelve Grimmauld Place. And you can convince my other children to come see me, hm? Which reminds me, are you getting along?"

Bill understood that there was more to that question than there appeared. He had finally come to realise that the feud between his sons had been terribly hard on Arthur, and Bill wanted to reassure him. Things were a long way from being the way they had been when they were children, but at least the sight of one another didn't make them run from the room.

"As well as can be expected. Better, in fact. Ron's having the hardest time, I suppose, but he does have the most to deal with. He was always the closest to Ginny, and now that he and Hermione are married he's having to deal with the backlash to that. Not to mention he's been preparing himself for when Harry arrives."

At the mention of the man who had almost been like a son to him, Arthur visibly flinched. But when he next spoke, his concern was for his daughter.

"Don't let Ginny get too close to him, if he does return, Bill. She can't take the heartache."

Surprised, Bill said, "Ginny, and Harry? I didn't know she felt that way about him. I mean, I knew she had a crush when she was a little girl, but I thought she outgrew that."

"Ginny's feelings for Harry are very complicated and confused, just as his are for her. But I can't see her hurt again. Promise me you won't let them get too close."

"Well, perhaps Harry won't even come," Bill said, trying to laugh. "Tonks said he wouldn't."

Arthur's lips, which were pressed in a tight line, relaxed. "Ah, Tonks. How is she? I haven't seen her in a long time. Always did like that girl."

"She's well. She's just the same as ever, one disaster after another." He didn't voice his concern that Tonks had become far too serious and bitter. "She and Charlie had an interesting encounter, apparently. This has been the week for reunions, hasn't it? And not always of the most pleasant kind."

Straining slightly, Arthur levered himself out of his chair and limped towards the kitchen with his mug.

"Well, seven years is a long time. To see one another after all that time is bound to come as a shock." Arthur yawned. "Oh dear, excuse me."

"I'm sorry, Dad, I'm tiring you," Bill said standing and taking his father's arm. "I'll come back and visit again soon, I promise."

"That would be nice, Bill. Promise to keep me informed. I think I'll just go out to the garage and play with that vision thing your sister bought me."

Bill nodded and with a sigh Disapparated, vowing to owl Fleur as soon as he returned.

Arthur waited a moment, and once he was certain Bill was gone, he said softly, "You can come out now, my dear."

Fleur Delacour stepped down the stairs and came to his side, tears glittering in her eyes. Arthur patted her hand and escorted her to a chair.

"Now, now. It's quite all right. You made the right choice to not tell him you were here. He wouldn't understand."

"But you do?" She looked up at him. "I feel so guilty. I 'ave never lied to him before."

"Never?" Arthur looked sceptical and Fleur managed a watery smile.

"Well, not like zis. But I could not bear to be left behind. Not while 'e was 'ere risking 'is life."

"You truly love him, don't you?" Arthur took a seat opposite her. "I must confess I believed your relationship to be based merely on attraction in the beginning. But you must care for my son or you would not have stayed with him so long. Not a beautiful girl like you."

To his surprise these words had the opposite effect he had intended.

"I do love 'im. And I will not say zair 'asn't been ze temptation. But I resisted. I cannot 'elp if ozzer men are attracted to me."

"Does Bill seem bothered by that?"

Fleur shook her head. "No. I wish 'e would, it would make zings easier. Oh, I do not know what to do."

Arthur leaned across the table and took her small hands in his. It was as if she had the hands of a child.

"Fleur, tell me, has my son proposed to you?"

"Yes. Many times. I refused 'im."

"In the name of Merlin, why?" asked Arthur, looking surprised.

"Because if I married 'im, I would only 'urt 'im."

"And why do you believe that?"

She looked at the kind man. "It is not just some silly belief, Arthur. It is ze truth. I am part veela, we cannot marry. It does not end well."

"I hardly believe you would hurt someone you care so much for."

"No? My mama and papa were deeply in love, I 'eard all ze stories, saw ze photographs. Zair was great passion between zem. But my grandmuzzer did not approve. She and my grandpere 'ad not married, and as soon as my mama was born, 'e left 'er. My grandmuzzer is pure veela, she knew she was not meant to be married to any man, no one man could satisfy her. But my mama was young, silly, and in love. My papa was determined to marry 'er. So against Grandmama's wishes they did so. But my mama did not like the confinement of marriage. Zen I and my sister were born. My papa did not like zat my mama had ozzer responsibilities. 'E wanted 'er to be at 'is disposal day and night. She refused."

Tears dripped down her nose and chin. "I remember ze shouts and screams. I would 'old onto Gabrielle in ze night trying to block out zat terrible noise. Zen, when my sister was three, my papa left. I never saw 'im again. I zink zat by the end, 'e and my mama 'ated one anozzer. So do you see? I cannot do zat to William. I couldn't bear to know zat one day 'e would 'ate me."

"Fleur, my dear, just because that happened to your mother, it doesn't mean it would happen to you." Arthur tried to think of other comforting words to say.

"Yes, it does. Bill, 'e loves ze adventurous life. Never knowing from one week to ze next where our travels would take us. I could not 'ave 'im settle, tying 'im to one place for the rest of 'is life. 'E would 'ate me for zat. Zen to bring a child into a family like zat? Zat would be monstrous."

"But, Fleur, he proposed to you. Perhaps he's ready to settle down. He's not precisely young any more, you know."

"'E proposed because 'e zought zat was what I wanted. But I will not marry 'im. Marry 'im, only to lose 'im?" Her blue eyes flashed angrily. "My muzzer, she is angry all ze time, and bitter. After my papa left, she lost ze sparkle in 'er eyes. She was not ze beautiful veela, but ze monster. I cannot let zat 'appen to me. Ze way zings are are fine. 'E loves me, and I love 'im."

"Then what are you so concerned about? Neither you nor he will stray, and if your relationship has lasted this long, there is no reason it could not survive a marriage license."

"But do you not see? Zere would be ozzer men. I would not encourage zem but zey would come anyway. Bill, as my 'usband, would see me as 'is property, 'is possession. 'E would become jealous. And 'e is a 'andsome man. Women would flirt. And I would worry I was losing my charms. Zat is no life for us."

"What about security? As a married couple you would have so many more rights than you do now."

"'Is money does not interest me," said Fleur haughtily. "I am not one of zose women who chases a man for 'is pocket change."

"I'm not referring to money. What would happen if you fell sick? He would not have the rights to be in charge of your health."

Fleur paused, but then shook her head. "I am sorry, Arthur, but I cannot do it."

"If that is your decision..." Arthur stood. "Come, I'll fix up a bed for you. You can stay with me for the time being, goodness knows this house is large enough."

As Fleur followed Arthur up the stairs to the rooms, she realised he was leading her to what must have been Ginny's room, as it had flowers painted on the walls. She then asked a question she hadn't been intending to ask.

"Arthur? 'Ave you yet met your grandchild?"

Smiling sadly, Arthur said, "No, not yet." His expression brightened. "But I will soon."

Impulsively Fleur leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek, causing his ears to turn bright red.

"What I wish for," she whispered, entering the bedroom, "is to 'ave a marriage like ze one you had wiz your wife."

Then she softly closed the door, sank down onto the bed, and cried into her pillow.

~~~

Fred and George were sitting around the kitchen table of Twelve Grimmauld Place when Hagrid and Elphias Doge entered, both looking exhausted. Doge collapsed into a chair almost immediately.

"Getting too old for this," he wheezed. He peered at the twins. "You Arthur's boys?"

"Two of them," said Fred with a grin. "Elphias, it's good to see you again."

"Pardon?"

"He said it's good ter see you," Hagrid bellowed in his ear. "It's Fred and George!" In more normal tones he said, "Fred, George, hope yer well."

"Ah, you know, can't complain," said George. "We're rich, and rather popular in the States. We're not doing too terribly for ourselves. How have you been, Hagrid? Life treating you well, I hope."

"Yes indeed, George," said Hagrid smiling from ear to ear as he pulled the twins up from their chairs into a hug. After they started to choke, he released them with a sheepish look. "Been seein' a lot of Olympe lately. Remember her? We had lost track of one another fer a while, but one day I said to meself, 'Hagrid, she was a right catch. Yeh'll not likely see another woman like her so long as yeh live.' So I sent her an owl, and we had lunch tehgether. She's been real busy trying ter get her school back in order, and she asked me to help her choose a Professor fer her magical creatures class."

He was slightly flushed and Fred and George couldn't help grinning.

"Where's Minerva?" asked Doge. "I have something urgent to discuss with her. Time to get this business started, no?"

The twins exchanged a glance

"You're all right with all of this?" Fred asked, confused. "Don't you want a few minutes to adjust?"

"Adjust?" repeated Doge. "Adjust to what? The Order has been called into action, and here I am."

Privately Fred and George doubted Doge was capable of much action, but he would probably surprise them. He was a pretty powerful wizard after all.

"Say," said George, "is Dung here with you?" He and Fred looked eagerly around for their partner-in-crime.

Now it was Doge and Hagrid's turn to exchange a glance. There was a long awkward pause. Then a new voice entered the conversation as Remus stepped into the kitchen looking solemn.

"Oh, I'm sorry, boys," said Remus softly. "We thought you knew. Dung passed on a couple years ago. He got caught in something sticky, and his clients weren't the types to accept failure graciously."

"You don't mean he was working for the Dark Side, do you?" Fred sounded horrified. Mundungus had been a criminal, but there was a difference between lifting some merchandise from people who wouldn't even notice it missing and selling things to Dark wizards.

"Nah, of course not," Hagrid reassured them. "Mundungus wasn't that sort. He just got in over his head, is all. Don't worry yerselves," he added when he could see that Fred and George were genuinely upset.

"Hagrid is right," Remus said firmly, "I'm sure Dung wouldn't want you two to become depressed on his account. After all, isn't it your responsibility to wreak havoc in his place?"

That brought smiles to their faces, and George said rather sheepishly, "You're right, Remus. So where are the rest of our charming family members?"

"Bill has gone to visit your father, which, if you know what's good for you, you ought to do as well, Charlie is sending owls to his friends in Romania, I believe, Ron and Hermione went for a walk, and Ginny is upstairs asleep."

"That would be incorrect, as usual, Lupin."

Remus turned and saw Snape glaring at him from the doorway. The way that man snuck around the house really got on his nerves, but Remus convinced himself to relax.

"Oh really? Well, she is your charge, Severus. Where is she then?"

"Speaking to your saviour."

"What's going on?" asked Ron as he came into the room from another entrance, holding Hermione's hand. They both looked flushed and windswept, and Ron immediately grabbed a cookie from the jar on the counter. "Oh, hello, Hagrid. And Elphias! Welcome."

"Good ter see you, Ron." Hagrid's eyes were twinkling as he looked at Ron and Hermione's clasped hands. "Heard all about teh blessed event. Thanks fer invitin' me."

Ron's ears turned red and Hermione did her best to stifle her giggles.

"As I was saying," Snape said, glaring at Ron who returned the stare coolly, though his ears were still red, "before I was interrupted. Ginny Weasley has a surprise for you all."

"Is this important?" asked Bill, coming in from behind Ron. "Should I get everyone in here?"

Snape looked as though he were going to object, but Bill was already calling out. "Charlie! Tonks! Minerva! Everyone to the kitchen! Ginny has an announcement!"

"What's this all about?" asked Charlie, purposely standing as far from Tonks as he could get.

As yet more people filed into the kitchen, Snape's scowl grew thicker. "If you have all finished, perhaps Weasley can explain to everyone what she did today."

Stepping out from behind the Potions Professor, Ginny smiled tentatively at Hagrid and Doge, and then took a deep breath.

"Look who I found!" she exclaimed with false cheerfulness.

Harry stepped into the kitchen with a scowl to match Snape's. Meeting their blank and stunned stares, he dropped the scowl and looked slightly frightened.

"Er, hello, everyone."

Ron was the first one to pass out.