Harry Potter and the Rise of the Phoenix

"Harry?" Ginny called through the thick oak door to his spot in the Room of Requirement. It was the one spot where he could always think. Harry continued to ignore her as she pounded on the door that wouldn't open. He tried to ignore her emotions flowing between their rings, but that was much harder to do. Couldn't she just leave him alone to think? He didn't want to worry about someone else's safety while his magic was out of control.

"Go away!" he shouted, trying to be heard over the gale-force winds. "Come back later!"

"No!" she shouted back. Her love, worry, and desperation flooded his already unstable emotions through the ring connection. He jumped away from the old oak tree as it burst into flames; he really had lost all control and Ginny's emotions were not helping. He fumbled with the ring, finally got it off, and tucked it safely in a pocket.

"Harry Potter!" she screamed, her voice sounding even more frantic. "Put that ring on right now!"

"You're messing up my concentration!" he hollered, the grass catching fire in several places as random spells caused sparks. He didn't want this. The Room seemed to be feeding off of his emotions without his permission. Maybe he should have gone to the Quidditch pitch instead. The weather had been decent this morning. The storm being caused by his turmoil would not end no matter how much Harry tried to require the Room to stop.

Ginny's pounding had taken on yet another level of desperation and Harry, resenting it, let the door unlock and open for her. She spilled in, taken by surprise.

"Hope you're happy," he said grumpily, trying to get the tree to stop burning. Ginny stood up, transfixed by the fires and raging storm. "Why won't the Room put this out?" he yelled, frustration clear in his voice. As soon as the question was out of his mouth, the tree returned to its normal non-burning form as if flames had never tried to bring it down.

"I couldn't stand it that way," Ginny said softly. "Why's it all burning?" She asked, the shock evident in her tone. Ginny motioned vaguely at the grass and tree fires, which had started again when an Incendio charm from Harry's wayward wand hit its top branches.

"Because I'm feeling an evil urge to be destructive," Harry snapped at her. "Just had to get my Dark tendencies out where others can't see me and realize the truth."

"Don't shout at me!" Ginny shouted, her own temper flaring. "I know that the Daily Prophet isn't telling the truth about your intentions! Now, why's it all burning?"

"Because," Harry said through gritted teeth, "I've lost all control over my magic. If you'd kindly remove yourself from this room before you're hurt by a wild spell..."

"I'm not going anywhere 'til after we talk about this!"

"I don't want to talk about it right now!" Harry shouted, his words accentuated by a flash of lightning in the distance. Rain started pounding down, though it didn't help put out the flames. Harry took a deep breath trying desperately to calm down before Ginny got hurt. He'd never forgive himself if that were to happen. But it was so hard with the smell of burning grass and oak in his nostrils. The sound of tree limbs popping from the heat, and the orange flames dancing brought up memories of past Revelries. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to calm down up here, he jumped the few feet down to the beach.

"HAAAARRY!" Ginny's panicked screech came down to him and Harry couldn't stop his teeth from grinding. She jumped down as well, looking slightly sheepish, but still determined to stay.

"How bloody often do I need to tell you that it's impossible to commit suicide by jumping off the cliffs?" he ranted at her. Driftwood logs nearby exploded with the force of his rage.

"Yeah, well, you should have felt your emotions before you tore your ring off!" she shouted back. "You aren't in a good mood at all!"

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Harry said sarcastically. He started to walk away from her (which he knew wasn't fair of him, because in her place, he wouldn't leave him alone) and from the burning log. "Your emotions on top of my own were too much. My magic couldn’t cope with it one bit! You saw the tree!"

"How do you know it isn't the Room?" she asked, calming down at his explanation. If she thought that meant he was now willing to talk... she was wrong! She had to jog to keep up with his furious pace.

"Because," he replied, not having a better explanation than that. He just knew.

"You've got no proof that it isn't," she said, bristling back up. "You just want me to leave!"

"No, really?" he asked. "I know it's my magic! It... I just know! You've seen the spells coming from my wand in my pocket! I don't have any control over it and I don't want it to hurt you!" She continued to walk beside him, ignoring his comments. She was crying (When did that start?) but she ignored the tears just as deliberately. "Dammit, Ginny! Why can't you do what you're told for once?"

"Because the last time I did when you were this bad, you tried--you--you--" she broke off sobbing. He stopped, realizing what she meant. She didn't really think he was trying to get rid of her only to try to kill himself again!

"This is different!" Harry tried to reassure her. Yet the burning driftwood (the cursed Room kept supplying it), the wind tossed waves, and the unbidden hexes coming from the wand in his pocket was not presenting a reassuring picture and seemed, in Ginny's mind, to belie his statement. He took her by the shoulders and stared into her eyes. "Please, just this once, go," he begged.

"No!" she shouted over the thunder that had just started a long low rumble. Forks of lightning had started to stretch from earth to sky in their beautiful and devastating glory.

What would it take for her to understand how dangerous it was to be around him like this? A spell (a Dark one Harry thought) shot from his pocketed wand and Harry blanched as the log next to Ginny disintegrated. If a spell like that hit--but no--Ginny wouldn't wait around to be hit with--

"Ow! Harry, that hurt!" she complained, rubbing the spot where a Stinging Hex had hit her. Harry's face went even paler. Had he actually subconsciously attacked Ginny? Had his out of control magic taken heed of his thoughts to cause more trouble?

"I didn't do it on purpose," he exclaimed, shouting over another peal of thunder. Ginny looked at him disbelievingly, but he showed her his still empty hands. Another spell shot from his pocket (Stunning Spell if Harry had to guess) and missed her by a few inches. He turned from her so that the pocket wasn't pointing toward her anymore. "Go please, before you are hurt!"

His growing panic wasn't helping the situation. If he actually hurt her--actually injured her--killed her (he knew the spells even if he had never used them before... but with his wild magic it was a possibility) he'd never be able to forgive himself.

"No," she said, chewing on her lip in worry. "You aren't in any mood to be left alone."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Just look at this!" she said waving wildly at their surroundings. "You need to talk and come to terms with whatever has you this upset!"

"And what do you want to talk about?" he asked, his voice warning her to tread carefully. Ginny, of course, didn't take heed.

"What happened in the Great Hall?" she asked. Harry felt his temper reigniting the surrounding landscape with those thoughts. How could everyone think the worst of him? How could they let the paper sway them so easily? "Harry?" Ginny asked hesitantly.

"What?" he yelled in return, much sharper than he had meant. Ginny flinched at the tone... or maybe it was from the lightning bolt that had struck the ground nearby.

"Don't shout at me!" she demanded.

"And now we're repeating ourselves!" Harry shouted, exasperated with this whole conversation. "Leave. Now!" he commanded, pointing to the path to the top of the cliff. A log exploded behind them.

"Don't take that tone with me! I'm not something you can command!" she shouted back, her spine straight and her mouth set stubbornly.

"And you can?" he asked, as a second bolt of lightning landed near them. "Pounding on the door shouting to be let in!" he spat, hating her very presence at the moment.

"I was worried about you!" she replied, hurt and stunned by his comment and glare.

"And I'm worried for--" Harry stopped, silently cursing himself. He had... transfigured? No... charmed Ginny's arm away. "Can you feel it?" he asked faintly. Sometime during the exchange, one of them (Both? He couldn't remember.) had turned back to face her, his pocket aimed at her once more.

"Yes," she replied, just as weakly. So... it was there, just... invisible maybe...

"Would you please go now?" he asked earnestly. "It just isn't safe to talk right now." As if to punctuate that statement, a Stinging Hex hit her again. He turned so that the pocket wasn't facing her anymore. "Once I calm down and get control of my magic, we'll talk."

"How--"

"The ring," he replied before she had a chance to finish the question. The longer she stayed the more likely she'd get hurt more seriously. "When I'm ready, I'll put the ring back on. Okay?"

"'Kay," she said and then started up the path to the top of the cliffs.

Harry sighed thankful that Ginny was now gone and safe. If it had only been his temper, Ginny's presence would have been calming and a relief. He could just see them, curled up under the oak tree, Ginny's hand running gently through his hair as she told him--what? That it would be all right? No one knew that for sure. They all wanted it to be true. But none of them knew, and with the Daily Prophet in such an up roar about the possession thing and pointing out Order members (though they got the purpose wrong and that was probably for the worst) no one even knew what the next week would hold.

Maybe it was time for a full disclosure. Harry laughed the second after he'd finished that thought. Full disclosure! Yeah right! That wouldn't do anything more than give the Daily Prophet more fuel for their accusations. And that was the last thing Harry wanted to give them.

What he needed to do right now was to regain control over his magic. He had slowly figured out (while arguing with Ginny) that the Room wasn't listening to his commands because he had no magic behind it. Instead it listened to the whims of the freed magic. And that magic was enjoying the mayhem the Room could cause.

Why was his magic lashing out so violently? He sat on a log, far from the flames slowly devouring the other end, and thought about it. Why? Such a tough question. He took a deep breath and shook his head. No, it wasn't, not if he was honest with himself.

He was hurt and he wanted someone--no--something to hurt just as much as he did. He'd had similar reactions before. The most notable occasion would have to be the time he had destroyed Professor Dumbledore's office after Sirius had died. He brushed a tear away angrily. It'd been almost two years now! He shouldn't be crying! But... it still hurt... a lot. And Harry refused to lie about it to himself. Sirius had held a position so... unique... and important to Harry. The first adult he had truly trusted on a personal level. And... to think... had Harry not been so foolish he wouldn't have lost him.

He shook his head as if to shake those thoughts away. No, he wasn't going to get caught up in that circle once more. Sirius's death had been the result of a very complex combination of decisions and events that no one could have predicted. Just about everyone involved could shoulder some of the blame if they tried... and Sirius wouldn't want Harry to.

So... he lashed out when he was hurt and angry... Yes, that made a lot of sense. That was why Ginny had ignored the yelling--he always yelled. But what had him so angry that it went beyond yelling?

The Daily Prophet had never been nice to him--or at least, not for long. And most often, when it was nice, they were just doing some arse kissing. So... was it the article in the Daily Prophet that had him so upset?

Or was it Dean's reaction of fear? Seamus not even looking at him? The way everyone believed the worst of him? The whispers? The stares?

Harry rubbed his prickling scar (which was hurting worst than it had last night) and sighed a long and lung-emptying sigh. That was it.

He knew it and it hurt. Hurt so much to realize that after knowing Dean and Seamus for six and a half years, they would still believe the worst. But then... what would he have done in their place? Maybe given them a chance to explain, but... he would have definitely wondered about something like that. But flinching from them? Avoiding eye contact? He didn't know.

He slumped down the side of the log to sit, hunched up, on the sand. The palms of his hands came up to hide his face. Sometime since Ginny had left, the weather had calmed some. The clouds were still roiling and distant thunder still rumbled. The rain had slowed down and had become a nice mist. Far in the distance, the sun peaked around and through the clouds. Looking around, Harry frowned at the flames that still burned menacingly. He took out his wand and cast the spell for sparks. Red and gold sparks spilled from the tip, but not in the normal cascade.

"Evanidus!" he cast. It was one of the most difficult spells he knew, a shield of invisibility. It took immense amounts of concentration, control, and magic to make it work--which was why Harry remained solid and visible. He grimaced and re-pocketed the wand. So, he hadn't quite regained control yet.

He had heard stories about wizards and witches who had lost control like this. It wasn't that common, but when it did happen, it provided a family legend. The stories were used to teach caution to their kids. Ron had told them about his Great-uncle Bilius who had died as a result of his loss of control; the freed magic had destroyed the house he had been hiding in. Parvati had countered that story with the one about her great-great grandmum. While angry, she had accidentally transfigured her daughter's (Parvati's great-grandmum's) nose into a walnut and no one had ever been able to remove the spell. Most often, the wild magic had burned the wizard or witch out, robbing them of the fundamental magic they needed to live.

Well, now he had his own story. To think, he'd frozen everyone in the Great Hall. Everyone! Every last one of them! That took quite a bit of magic. He was sure even with the right spell, he wouldn't be able to do it on purpose; uncontrolled magic was always stronger than controlled magic. But, if he exercised his magic further, he'd be able to come closer to his full potential.

A thought came unbidden and Harry felt his stomach drop. What if he had borrowed all that magic? No! That took control. According to the Theory of Greats, a simple borrowing can be done on accident; he'd done that before. But, something like this would require a binding of sources. If it had been a simple borrowing, he would have burned out the source. Maybe, if he combined everyone in the Great Hall, it could have worked... but... like he'd already thought, that took control. He definitely hadn’t had enough control for that. He let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding with relief. For a split second he thought he'd done something he'd promised himself he would never do.

For, Harry had come to the conclusion, that for all its benefits, the Theory of Greats wasn't worth the immoral implications. He was glad he knew it (Know thine enemy!) but... he never wanted to use it. Even borrowing from something as simple as a rock or dirt or plants had consequences Harry didn't want to think about. To rob the earth of its life giving power, to kill something as simple as a plant to gain power seemed... too close to evil for Harry. And even if he only borrowed from willing friends... the chances that he might kill them was just not worth the risk.

And it seemed that he had enough of his own power to be going on with. No, he had started to concentrate more and more on blocking Voldemort from borrowing magic. Most of the books Harry was reading from Professor Dumbledore's list had notations in them, written with the curly handwriting of the old wizard. It seemed that Dumbledore had come to a similar conclusion. Though, it also seemed that he had needed to use the Theory of Greats to muster the power to kill Grindelwald. Harry couldn't be sure... but... he got that feeling when he read some of the notes.

Closing his eyes and using the relaxing meditations he used in Occlumency and with the Theory of Greats, he carefully let go of conscious thought. He listened to the waves crashing twenty or thirty feet out, to the lapping of the waves closer to shore, to the crackling of the flames next to him, to the wind softly blowing past him. He concentrated on the feel of the sand below him and the log behind him. He examined the warmth of the sun on his face and the cooling affect of the wind.

A long time later, when his eyes finally came open he knew without a doubt that everything was right again. The weather was stunningly beautiful, only a few wispy clouds in the sky. Not a single charred log remained on the beach. And, when he brought his wand up he knew without casting a spell that his magic was back under his control.

Bill knew with nothing more than a glimpse as his little sister entered his classroom that all was not well. She had her arm done up in a sling, or, rather, what must be her arm, because Bill couldn't see it. Her face showed a storm of emotions and her eyes were red. And... he couldn't do anything until after class! She swung herself into her seat and took out the essay he'd assigned for homework the day before and her supplies to take notes.

She must have felt someone watching her, for she looked up. The fierce look in her eyes brought a small smile to Bill's lips, though he carefully hid it. There was a reason all her brothers respected that wand of hers and he didn't want to give Ginny a reason to show everyone else. He'd rather not have bats and bogeys flying around his head while he was supposed to be teaching. She looked back down at her essay, dipping her quill in the inkbottle. He frowned, wondering if she hadn't finished it, but he watched her cross out a word and replace it, and knew she had.

The bell rang to signal the start of class and Bill stood. He enjoyed this part of the job. Watching as students struggled with spells and then the excitement when they finally got it. And... giving out assignments instead of receiving them was a nice change. Of course, that meant he'd have to correct them later, which was his least favorite part of teaching.

"Colin, Luna, would you please collect the essays?" he asked. Of all his classes, this one, his Ravenclaw/Gryffindor sixth year class, was his favorite. Harry's class was alright, but it was too late in their education for them to waste time getting to know a new professor well. Not to mention, many of the ladies were part of some underground fan club. Though there were a few members in here as well, there weren't as many and they weren’t as... blatant. As long as none of them tried to seduce him, he'd let them be.

"Yes, sir," Colin said cheerfully, standing up quickly and banging his knee on the corner of the desk.

"Careful," Luna's voice said dreamily from Colin's other side. Luna was a character that was for sure. It seemed odd to think that Neville was going out with her; in theory they didn't seem to fit. But in real life they were actually a great couple. Luna seemed to float from table to table collecting the essays while Colin limped around helping. They brought the papers up to the front and went back to their seats next to Ginny. He was pretty sure this was his favorite class because of his sister. Unlike Ron, she was quite happy learning from him (after all, he was her favorite) and quite happily reminded everyone including himself, that she was the professor's youngest sibling.

"Bill, you get our tests corrected yet?" Ginny's question came as if on cue. "Or did Melissa keep you up past your bedtime?"

"They're done, little imp," he replied, trying to lighten her mood. "And I haven't seen Melissa for a few days."

"Shouldn't call students names, sir," Colin teased. "Isn't proper."

"I'm not," Bill said, picking up the pile of corrected tests. "Ginny has proven more than once that she's an imp."

"Thank you!" she said brightly. He rolled his eyes at her as the rest of the class laughed.

"Overall, well done," he informed them. Bill started to walk them through the exam, answering questions as he went. After that they proceeded to the actual lesson. This class was quick on the uptake, though there were still a few who struggled. They joked their way through the difficult topic of theory and then went to work, trying to change their birds into horses. Finally the bell rang.

"Ginny, come here please," Bill called as students started filtering out for lunch. He watched as she told Luna and Colin to go on without her. They argued with her for a bit. To Bill it looked like they were as worried for her as he was.

"Go, I'm fine," she said, quite exasperated with them. She turned her back on them and Bill watched them exchange a look behind her. Seeming to come to some agreement, they turned to the door.

"We'll wait for you in the hall," Colin called back to her before leaving the classroom.

"Don't bother!" she called back, not rudely, just trying not to keep them from their lunch. Bill waved his wand at the door and it shut with a snap. "Annoying friends," she said as she reached him. It still amazed Bill how well he could read his youngest sibling considering how little time he'd been at home, what with Hogwarts and Egypt. He knew she was close to tears and that she wanted to distract him from it. Yet, there was that look in her eyes that begged him not to be distracted even as her words were meant to. Maybe it was because they were so alike.

"Come here, fire head," he said, holding his arms out as an invitation for a hug. Ginny threw herself into his embrace, sobbing hard. "Hush now, little imp," he crooned into her hair, his heart aching for his sister. They stood like that for about five minutes, Bill doing nothing more than letting her cry.

"I'm so worried for him," Ginny said finally, tears still falling but silently now.

"How is he?" Bill asked, drawing up a comfy chair for each of them.

"I don't know," she said, stumbling over her words as the sobs threatened to return. She fell gratefully into the chair and curled her legs up and under her. Her renewed sobs surprised Bill. He had thought, with Ginny’s appearance in his class, that Harry was alright and back in control of his magic.

"Didn't you go see him?" he asked. Maybe they had all been wrong, and Ginny hadn't followed him. At the increase in tears, Bill kicked himself for asking. "Ginny, what's the matter?" he asked, almost desperately, taking a seat in his own forgotten chair.

Slowly she explained what had happened. It had been difficult at first, because of the crying, but she managed it. By the end, Bill understood the tears. She finished by explaining her trip to the hospital wing for the last bit of her class and trying to undo whatever Harry had done by accident. Bill stayed silent for a few moments taking it all in.

"I'd have to say that that beats Uncle Bilius' Grim story," he said with a soft whistle. Ginny glared at him through the remaining traces of tears. "Okay, maybe not that bad, but it's going to be a tale you'll tell to warn your guys' kids not to lose control, especially if your arm never reappears." Ginny smiled at that and looked down at her visibly missing arm.

"I can use it," she said, sniffing. "They just don't want me too, just in case it complicates things. And they think, if nothing else, it'll wear off." She fell silent and started to brood. Bill watched for a few seconds, not at all happy seeing her so morose.

"You do know he was only trying to protect you," Bill finally ventured.

"I didn't ask him to!" Ginny shouted, swiping briskly at the tears that had betrayed her. Bill's mouth curled down in a frown at the mood swing... unless... oh, that would have to suck for her...

"Okay, please do not hex me for the next statement," he said warily. "But I really need to know if you're really, really upset or if it's just... er... mood swings..."

To Bill's surprise, Ginny laughed at that. "Bit of both actually. I wouldn't be crying if it wasn't this time of the month. Sorry for soaking your robes."

"No worries, little imp-ling," he said, reaching across the short distance to ruffle her hair. As it always had, Ginny huffed at the action. Bill could still remember the first time he'd done that to her. She'd been almost five the year after Perce's first year. As normal, Mum had brought all the siblings to the train station to pick them up. Bill had been glad to see all his littlest brothers and his only sister, at least for the first few moments in Ginny's case. He had hugged her, and then ruffled George's, Fred's, and Ron's hair. After that, Ginny was dutifully ignored as they moved on to talk about Quidditch and Charlie's chance at getting the captaincy after the superb fourth year he'd had. Ginny had huffed out "Don't ignore me just 'cause I'm a girl!" and Bill ruffled her hair to make her feel like one of the guys.

"What are you thinking about?" Ginny asked suspiciously. Bill shook his head, not sure how Ginny would react to the memory. All of the boys had been quite... pig-headed about letting their sister join in with their games. Ginny raised one of her eyebrows at him.

"Wish I could do that," he said trying to distract her as she had tried to do earlier with him. And, had it been any of the brothers, it would have worked, but Ginny wasn't fooled.

"Come on, Bill, tell me," she wheedled. Bill laughed; it was that tone and what it could get her that had earned her the "imp" nickname in the first place.

"Just a memory from the summer after my sixth year," he replied. "So, how worried about you should I be?"

"I'm fine, and Harry was right, I shouldn't have stayed and bothered him," she said ruefully. "But all I could think of was Uncle Bilius and last summer."

"Definitely not a good combination," Bill agreed. Honestly, everything Ginny and Harry had been through together was quite alarming. The Chamber of Secrets, loss of loved ones, countless injuries, a kidnapping, a suicide attempt, a break-up... it was alarming. He and Melissa hadn't even had their first major fight yet (what with their tempers, they were very careful not to fight with each other) and they were only two months from being married. "Just ask and I'm sure he'll forgive you."

"Yeah, I know," she said, her nose wrinkled up in disgust. She had never liked saying sorry, and that face was exactly the one she wore after Mum had made her apologize to one of her brothers.

"He hasn't put the ring back on?" Bill asked, dutifully distracting her from the thought of apologizing.

"Not yet," she answered, absentmindedly playing with the ring, twisting it around and around her left ring finger. "As much as I love you, biggest brother, and as much as I love chatting with you, I wouldn't be here if he had put it back on already."

"Oh, I see how it is," he replied, teasing her in return. He was glad she was in a better mood. "Your loyalties are first to your boyfriend and second to your family."

"Yep!" she chirped happily. "How're the wedding plans?"

"They're coming along nicely," he answered with a slight grimace. He really was not enjoying the planning for this... thing... one bit. "Lot's to plan, lot's to do. I can't wait until it's done and we're married."

Ginny gave him an annoyingly knowing look (Where did she learn that one, Bill thought. I don't remember it.) That one eyebrow of hers raised to join the set of her mouth and the look in her eyes.

"What?" he asked defensively, not sure why that look rankled him so much.

"You just want protection from your fan club," she said irritatingly. Bill grimaced at that thought. Ginny was enjoying teasing him about that way too much. At least she kept the jokes to when they were in private or when only other members of the family were around. He didn't want to acknowledge the club's existence in front of the other students if he didn't have to.

"Well, there's that too," he admitted, though he'd never thought of that. Hopefully, those girls would lay off once he was married.

"You pull the same face Harry does when someone mentions his fan club," she said, her laugh ringing out. Bill couldn't help smiling when he saw her happy face. It was a nice change from the tears of before. "What does Melissa think of your fan club?"

"I'm sure she's not as proud of it as you are of Harry's," he replied dryly. His smile broadened at the look of innocent confusion on her face. He knew that look; it was the look he had taught the twins, and it looked like Ginny had picked it up too. "After all, Melissa doesn't have the honor of being the founding president."

"I deny all knowledge of his fan club," Ginny said with a voice that betrayed her. She was enjoying this give and take as much as he was. "Keeps a happy relationship with my true love that way."

"True, Harry really doesn’t like his," Bill said with a nod and a smile. He'd keep her secret. And, it wasn't like Harry didn't have his guesses. If he didn't want to see it, then Bill wouldn't force him to.

"He doesn’t realize how large it is. If he did, he'd try to stop it or try to make me," she replied with a wicked little grin on her face. That look was the other reason his nickname for her was "imp". Bill looked at her, not understanding what she meant. How could it be larger than the population at Hogwarts? Bill knew it couldn't even be that big. "Now, hypothetically speaking, if one was best friends with the current president of Harry's club and really good friends with yours, then you'd know what I mean."

"Well, let's say, hypothetically, of course, that you were that one," Bill prodded.

"Well, your fan base, biggest brother, is all female and the--er--flightier ones for the most part," Ginny continued. "I'm sure after you tell a few of your pyramid stories it would change some."

"To be like Harry's?" Bill asked.

"Well, like Harry's a few years ago, it's grown humongous since then," Ginny replied carefully. " Mind, it took quite a hit the year after Voldemort came back because of the Daily Prophet, but it has grown exponentially since then." A look of mild disgust and annoyance crossed her face before it was covered up again. Like Melissa, Ginny dealt with the inevitable with good grace. And, unlike Melissa, Harry's fan club was her fault. "Members who have graduated have helped spread it beyond the castle's walls."

"How can he not know?" Bill asked incredulously. How had he not known it was so large? Did anyone in the Order realize this? Ginny and her compatriots had done such a good job at keeping it under the table and out of sight.

"Do you think any of us founders would ever admit to it?" Ginny asked, surprised that Bill had to ask. "I mean, the hypothetical founders."

"Hypothetical, of course," he repeated.

"If I'd have known what it would turn into, if any of us had known, I don't think we would have started," Ginny finally admitted, giving up the pretense. "It's a real pain for Col--er--the president." Or, maybe she hadn't completely.

"You still a member?" Bill asked, figuring she had given it up when she had started going out with the focus of the club.

"It would look bad if the founding president and current girlfriend of the great Harry Potter quit his fan club," she said, a huge grin on her face. "Don't want anyone to think I'm too good for them. And, if the girlfriend doesn't want to be a member, why should anyone else?" Bill laughed at the reasoning. "No, I gave up the presidency and most of the formal duties. I write the 'Why Rita Should Be Squashed This Month' article for the monthly newsletter and give Colin, the main reporter, my monthly 'No comment' comment for his use. It's become a running joke be--" She broke off suddenly and Bill had the distinct impression that her attention had turned inward and along the connection between her ring and Harry's.

"He put the ring back on?" Bill asked as she stood suddenly and swung her bag up onto her shoulders.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice just as distant. She was up and out the door before Bill realized it. He sighed. He knew in reversed places, he would have left their conversation to be at Melissa's side, but it still hurt. His little sister had found a replacement for him. No, not a replacement, Harry wouldn't ever be like a brother to Ginny. Just a... different model...

Bill laughed at the thought and waved the conjured chairs away. Still smiling broadly and thinking of the torture he'd be able to put her through when it came time to get the wedding robes fitted, he left his classroom for the Great Hall, hoping to get there in time to eat a bit of food.

Harry lay on his back, his knees bent to prop up his and Ginny's notebook. He had been writing for an hour already, though looking at it, no one would have known. Three puny little paragraphs filled with cross outs and blotches. Actually, those last two weren't really separate paragraphs. It was so hard, after talking for several hours earlier. He started to write, but realized the ink had dried on the end of the quill. He frowned, flung his right arm out to the side, and closed his eyes.

It had been a long day and he hadn't even gone to any classes. Well, he had turned up for his lesson with Severus. He knew he couldn't skip that one. Ginny had shown up as the bell ending lunch rang through the castle. Without a word, she had sat down next to him. He knew she had Ancient Runes at that time, while he had a free period, but she stayed anyway. They talked for an hour or two. He skipped Transfiguration, not at all ready to face the rest of the school, even if it was only his year-mates. By the time came for Ginny's last class, Harry had fallen asleep, exhausted by the magic and the talking. When he woke up, it was ten minutes until the end of the last class of the day and ten minutes until the beginning of his lesson with Severus. He used that time to get to the dungeon unseen. Severus... had not been pleased with him. Harry smiled ruefully and sat up a bit to dip his quill in the inkwell.

Harry paused to think. Severus hadn't been scared, not exactly at least. There had been something akin to fear in those black eyes, but that wasn't why Severus had raised his wand. It was the knowledge that Harry's magic was loose and could do some serious damage. Look at the way he had frozen everyone in the Great Hall. He hadn't meant to do it, but the magic had used him to make it happen.

...unnerved... that’s the word… Severus had been completely unnerved by the fact that my magic was out of my control. And I think he was really worried for me, and we both know Severus hasn't really learnt a healthy way of showing worry. So I took the scolding (I mean, I did deserve it) and I did everything he told me without question. He was even kind enough to let me go ten minutes early so that I could make it safely to my dorm room without meeting anyone.

And Harry was grateful for that. The few people Harry passed in the halls had skirted around him. They were younger students, first and second years for the most part, and he didn't know any of them. Right now, all his dorm mates were at the D.A. meeting. He had planned to go for the start and explain that Hermione and Ginny would be taking over for a few weeks on the healer's orders, but, after what happened that morning, Harry still wasn't ready to face anyone. He was even contemplating feigning sleep to put off talking to them tonight. But, he had the feeling that even if it did work, he'd probably end up having a nightmare and waking them all up. He rubbed his scar angrily, wishing that his Occlumency shields could keep it from hurting like that.

Ugh! My scar has been hurting so much since I woke up yesterday. Something really has Voldemort pissed and my scar won't stop throbbing because of it. What's the point of studying something as hard as Occlumency if I can't keep something like that from happening? I'll just have to wait for Voldemort's death to have relief from it.

Do you think people would let me just... disappear... after Voldemort's gone? I've been thinking about that lately. Maybe, while you finish up Hogwarts and healing I'll leave the country and study somewhere. It's just a thought that I've been toying with recently. A week, I guess now, but that hardly counts, seeing as I've been unconscious for half of it. But, I really have no ideas for the future other than getting engaged and married, and... getting away from Britain sounds like a good idea... for some reason they annoy the crap out of me... don't know why...

Thanks for taking care of the D.A. for me tonight and the next few weeks. I know I have to face them soon... they'll be back in an hour and a half, but... I wasn't ready for everyone. Not sure if I'll ever be completely ready, but I'll have to try. Especially if I want to hear their explanations about why they turned on me like that. Seamus, Dean, and Neville should know me better than that! Gah!

Well, I really have nothing else to add and it's taken me over an hour and three-quarters to write even this small amount. Most everything else was covered earlier, so... I guess this is it. Yeah. The end.

Love you,
Harry

Harry shook his head at the pathetic ending but left it. Ginny would get a kick out of it. He closed the notebook, locked it up, and set it on his bedside table. Flopping to the other end of his bed, he dug through his trunk until he found the shoebox from his mum. He pulled out one of the Wild Goddesses notebooks and tossed it towards his pillow. It fell open and Harry lay before it on his stomach to read.

GW? *awkward silence* Sam? *awkward silence continues* That was his mum's hand writing.

*exchanges look with GF* And that was Thia's.

*exchanges look with GM*

Sam? You okay?

Okay? Okay!?! *hysterical sobbing* And this was Sam Prewitt's bold strokes.

*exchanges look with GM and hugs hysterical sobbing friend*

*exchanges look with GF and hugs hysterical sobbing friend as well*

*Time passes*

I'm alright now! Bugger off!

How was it?

As good as any funeral *sniff* for one's older brothers and sister-in-law and niece and nephew and brother's girlfriend can be...

Sucky, then?

I would imagine. I still wish we could have been there for you.

Definitely sucky, Thia... er... GM... and you were there, in spirit, my fellow Goddesses... It was nice, I guess... Molly and Leah were both there with their families and Mum and Dad... Molly's boys are so cute!

How old are they now?

Billy turned four in November and Charlie turned two in December... Leah's little girl is only four months old and adorable. But the boys definitely stole the show... *sniff* All three lost their Godfathers last week...

Well, you and Leah and Molly aren't going anywhere, so, don't worry about it... You three are going to be great Godmothers... And Fabian and Gideon wouldn't want you to be crying like this... focus on the future...

God, I don't know how you two can live losing brothers and parents and nieces and nephews like you have... and GM what your bro goes through every month... *shivers* I really don't get it...

My dad knew what he was getting into as Head of the Aurors. And what he was getting into mocking the Voldie-mort. He took down four DEs before they could get him and Mum...

And it took five of them to overtake my brothers... Fabian wasn't even a full Auror yet... Just a trainee... and, if you're seriously becoming a Healer, GF, you have to get used to death...

I don't plan on having the kids I work with die.

Yeah, but with the war going on, you'll probably work with adults more than kids... you know how it goes... they need all the help they can get at St. Mungo's.

True... I'm just glad my mum and dad aren't involved or Petunia for that matter. I don't know what I'd do if any of them died.

So... Lily, what's the chances Gryffindor has on winning next Saturday?

*slightly confused by change of subject, but recovers* oh... I'd say very, very, very, very good... why?

Have to decide how much to wager SS... I'm thinking a few galleons...

You have no more faith in us than a few galleons?!?

Well... you lost me twenty last spring in the Ravenclaw game... so... yes... I only have a few galleons faith in you!

It wasn't twenty galleons! It was only ten! Don't use hyperboles when someone who knows the truth is sitting right next to you!

Shoot... I forgot I took that loan from you... didn't I?

Aye, you did! *pause* Sam... can we do anything for you? We could always prank the Marauders for you...

It's been a while... we could always, oh, I don't know... throw them into the Lake for the Squid to eat...

*laughter through tears* thanks... but wouldn't want to give the GS ingestion or diarrhea...

Anything you want to talk about?

...wouldn't want to deprive my two friends the loves of their lives... or GM of her brother either...

He isn't the love of my life!

Nor is he mine!

Okay, now you're both in denial... you mark my words, GF you will marry JP and GM you will marry SB... trust me on this!

Since when can you read crystal balls and tea leaves? You know nothing of the future! YOU DROPPED DIVINATION!

*airy seer voice* A true seer needs no class!

I would rather marry the GS than JP!

Now... GF... you shouldn't say rash things like that... JP has deflated his head just for you... and... look at him *eyes JP across Great Hall with potato wedges stuck out his nose* okay... so... maybe don't look at him... just imagine him in your mind's eye... imagining? Good... Let's start at the top with that adorable messy hair of his... don't you just want to run your fingers through it to make it lie flat?

And those hazel eyes always twinkling in mirth... hidden behind those glasses of his that makes him look all wise and sophisticated... *glares at GF laughing* fine! You laugh! But... It does!

And that nose of his that is big enough to stick potato wedges in *bursts out laughing* oh, no... they got Remus doing it too! *grabs for bag* where's a camera when I need one?!? I bet PP will give me a copy... look at him taking a billion! *calms down* back to topic... that smile of his... almost as good as Sirius'... don't say a word, GW!

Ah, but sister goddess, you forget that I'm the Goddess of the Word! Hehe... almost as good as SB's, is it? Interesting... *turns to GF* no, seriously, GF, JP does have a great smile, and even when he's in a bad mood the corners are stuck up a tad bit... and it always reaches his eyes...

Then we move on to those wonderful Quidditch muscles of his... Those biceps from passing the Quaffle...

That strong chest of his... hmmm... wonder, once the weather clears, if we could get the male members of our Quidditch team to go swimming... SS has his own set of muscles, don't get me wrong, but he isn't JP, SB, or LQ... wouldn't mind that eye candy one bit...

And his strong legs... and he isn't a towering fool... so you wouldn't have to feel short around him! And, he's got fashion sense that doesn't include leather!

You underestimate leather, my dear GM... and SB happens to look super in it... I should let you know...

Oh, I know... but he's got a motorbike, which makes up for it... some... so... what do you think, GF?

I think it is not I who has a crush on said JP... but maybe the other two goddesses...

I won't deny that I appreciate his... not so obvious good looks... I mean, he's nothing compared to SB... but... still...

Nor will I deny it... but, SS has my heart...

*gag* I don't get the two of you...

*shrug* I don't care what you think... and... they think Tobias Snape was one of the DEs to get away with killing... them...

Do they know? You two are so good at hiding...

No, they don't know... no one does... though... I don't think my family will ever accept him...

There really wasn't much of a chance of that, GW... I'm sorry...

I know... but... still... I could hope before... now I really can't even hope... Fabian would have liked him... given a chance... and Gideon could have tolerated him...

Molly and Leah are good ladies... I think they'd understand...

Molly, maybe... maybe... Gideon was always her favorite little sibling though... But not Leah... Leah holds grudges and holds them well and tight...

"Where were you all day, Harry?" Neville's voice asked beyond the curtains. Harry shut the notebook slowly and closed his eyes. His time was up. He checked his watch and realized they were back early.

"Around," he answered, pulling his curtains open. He didn't look at Dean, Neville, or Seamus, though his quick look at Ron showed him a concerned best mate.

"What's up?" Seamus asked, his voice genuinely confused. Harry felt his temper start to fray, but he grabbed a tight hold on it. He would not lose control again today!

"Why did you--never mind," Harry said, shaking his head. He was starting to wish he hadn't showered earlier so that he could retreat to the bathroom.

"You mad at us?" Dean asked tentatively.

"You should know!" Harry snapped, jumping off his bed and heading for the door. Ron stopped him, blocking his way. Neville hesitated, then moved next to Ron, his arms crossed.

"We should, but we don't," Neville said, looking at Harry defiantly.

"Let me out," Harry growled.

"Mate, you've been avoiding everyone all day. It's time to talk," Ron said firmly. "Why are you mad at us?"

"I'm not mad at all of you, just the idiots that believed that foul, toxin-spitting beetle," Harry said, storming back to his bed. Once he reached it, he flung himself onto it, staring at the ceiling.

"But--we didn't--at least, not the part about you controlling You-Know-Who for months," Seamus said hesitantly. Harry made a snort of disbelief.

"And I wasn't going to believe that you possessed Voldemort until you told me you had," Dean explained patiently.

"Then why'd you move away from me and then jump up to retreat to Seamus and Lavender?" Harry asked, his temper cooling with their explanations and calm voices. He also didn't have the energy to stay angry. It was either lose control or stay calm and Harry preferred calm. He tilted his head up and looked at Dean as he answered.

"I moved away because you were glowing and I went to get Seamus and Lavender's help when I saw the Aurors coming," Dean explained. "If you didn't notice, I was putting myself between them and you." Harry swallowed and turned to look at the ceiling again.

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered, feeling like a dragon had just sat on him and left a large bit of dung as a present. He looked at his dorm mates apologetically. "I was too angry to really notice or think or... anything really."

"Don't worry about it," Dean said, starting to get ready for bed. "Though... some of the students did believe the article. Someone in the Hufflepuff house mentioned your ability to speak to snakes."

"Great, just... great," Harry groaned, thinking what that would mean for the rumor mill.

"Though, Professor Snape seemed to disabuse most of the rumors," Neville said, pulling his head out from the neck of his shirt. Once his pajama top was on in its place, he continued. "He actually defended you, Harry. It's quite... surreal... hearing Snape defend you like that."

"What?" Harry asked, sitting up too fast, causing his head to spin. The feeling soon passed, though his scar was throbbing quite painfully. "Ginny didn't say anything about that!"

"Well, how could she know?" Seamus asked, coming back from cleaning his teeth and face. "She left before he had."

"The students were gossiping, Flitwick and Sprout were hounding McGonagall, and Snape... just... snapped," Ron explained. "Told them to trust their Headmistress like they had trusted Dumbledore. That you weren't dangerous, just hurt. Stood up to that annoying Auror who tried to arrest you."

"He's going to file a complaint as well," Dean said, towel drying his hair after his quick shower. "Said that it was... 'worrisome' that three Aurors would try to arrest an innocent teenager."

"Though, I don't agree with his comment about your suicide, mate," Ron said angrily, heading to the bathroom to clean his teeth.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked curiously, looking at the others as they shrugged uneasily. Ron came back out after he'd swished the potion and spit it out. He rubbed the rest of the foam from his face before answering.

"He said something like it was the best thing you'd done all summer," Ron answered, his voice the leveled calm Harry had learnt meant that Ron was holding his temper in check.

"Well, maybe not the best, but it was one of the most helpful," Harry answered honestly. The others exchanged worried looks. "What were his reasons?"

"Something about it helping you to heal and that your resolve to see everything through to the end had solidified," Neville said, taking over the empty bathroom to wash his face and teeth.

"He's right," Harry answered. "If the beginning of summer couldn't change, then I wouldn't change what I choose to do."

"What?" everyone said at the same time. Neville started to choke as the tooth potion went down in his throat and lungs. Seamus bound over to clap Neville on the back to get it all out.

"I'm sorry, but... no one was willing to realize that the great Harry Potter might need some serious help after his three week stay with Voldemort," he answered, waving his wand at Neville to clear the rest of the potion from his lungs. It was a simple enough healing charm and Neville was able to breathe without coughing.

"We knew," Ron replied. "Dumbledore wouldn't listen."

"No," Harry said shaking his head. "You guys knew to an extent, but not the full picture... None of you truly expected it. Thought in your darkest nightmares and talks, but... not really expected it. And I wouldn't have gotten the help I did as soon as I did otherwise. And that talk with everyone helped." He looked at Ron meaningfully and a look of understanding glowed in his best mate's eyes. Ron knew that by everyone he meant his parents, Sirius, and Godric Gryffindor. "And anyway, Sev--Snape just likes to shock people. There's nothing better than the truth to do that."

"I'm going to say it one more time, and I'll try not to ever again," Dean said, a smile on his lips. "It's just weird, the way you and Snape have buried the hatchet."

"You have no idea," Harry said with a returning smile. "As odd as it is for you all, think what it must be like for us!"

"Game of Snap anyone?" Seamus called out, throwing a deck down between his bed and Dean's. Everyone, now completely ready for bed, agreed. They spent an hour and a half playing, Neville coming out with the most wins, though Dean was protesting several of the games. Seamus and Ron went to bed once they were done playing, but Dean and Neville looked over at Harry.

"Harry, you aren't tired, are you?" Neville asked, looking hopeful.

"No, not really," he said, rubbing the awful scar as it twinged especially painfully. "Why?"

"We were wondering if you'd read through our Defense essay," Dean answered. "I have the morning free before Defense, and Burke is weighting this three times a normal essay."

"And I'm going to skip Care of Magical Creatures if you find too many mistakes in mine," Neville said, digging in his bag. "I'm pretty sure on everything."

"But another eye wouldn't hurt," Harry said with a nod. He reached out and both boys passed their essays over. "How's he been since he lost the supervisor position for the D.A.?"

"Alright," Neville said with a shrug.

"His same normal annoying self," Dean said at the same time. "Speaking of the D.A., where were you tonight?"

"Avoiding people," Harry answered, unrolling Dean's essay and using the WG notebook to weigh it down. "Well, Nancy Nettle, my main healer, took away the D.A., Bryant's morning lessons, and Quidditch--"

"But, we play next weekend!" Dean said, waking the already sleeping Ron.

"Oh, trust me, I told her that," Harry said with a sigh. "Can you hand me a bottle of red ink? Or any colored ink, really." Neville dug in his trunk and tossed Harry a bottle of red and gold swirling ink. "Cool," Harry said appreciatively and dipped his recovered quill into it. "I have to stay off a broom until Tuesday and then I plan on flying any spare moment I have to get back in shape. Rose Zeller is a speedy little mite!"

"She reminds me of you," Ron said, tossing a pillow at Harry. "Weather's supposed to be horrible, so she'll be blown off course without any problem."

"So, third year all over, only, this time, I'm the big, bad wolf," Harry said with a smile. Dean laughed at the joke, but Neville and Ron gave him blank looks. "Little Red Riding-hood and the Big, Bad Wolf? You guys don't know that fairy tale?" The two purebloods shook their head.

"Must be a Muggle thing," Dean said, just as surprised as Harry was at their two friends. Harry started marking Dean's essay.

"Yeah, must be," Harry said with a nod. "So, no Quidditch until Tuesday and no D.A. for an undetermined amount of time. She suggested dropping Care of Magical Creatures for a few weeks and do homework for other classes then, and I might take her up on it. I'm so behind as it is. And Hagrid will let me do the homework and not attend classes or something. I might just completely drop it for the year. Do self-study to prep for the N.E.W.T.'s. I don't know, I was going to see how tomorrow went before deciding."

"Harry, I'm glad I'm not you," Neville said solemnly. Harry looked up at him startled. Neville had come so close to being him, to being Harry Potter. Neville Longbottom, the Boy Who Lived. "What?"

"Nothing," Harry said, shaking his head. It just didn't have quite the same ring to it. And, it wasn't the way it was meant to be, either. "Look, I don't have a heavy schedule tomorrow, so why don't you guys go to sleep. I'll leave these at the foot of your beds. You can always wake up early and start working on them."

"They're going to need it?" Neville asked.

"Dean's is," Harry replied, marking out two sentences. Dean grimaced as if Harry had cut his skin with those strokes. "I have no clue about yours, Neville, but are you willing to take the chance of not finishing the copy?"

"Good point," Neville said, lying down on his bed. A quick swish of his wand had the curtains pulled shut. "'Night, and thanks."

"Yeah, thanks, Harry," Dean said, walking back to his bed. He pulled the curtains closed. "'Night."

"Night," Harry called back. "And you're welcome."

Harry spent two hours working on the essays. Both were a study on some aspect of the First War. Dean's was on Death Eater tactics, and Harry had to smile at Dean's bold strokes whenever he wrote the name Voldemort. Harry always loved Dean's script, a wonderful flowing, yet spiky handwriting that fit with the artistic man. Neville's essay was on Auror tactics, and each time the name Auror Longbottom came up, Harry felt his heart twinge as much as his scar still was. The first few times it was written, Neville's handwriting became hesitant, slightly longer, though not much taller than the rest, a few blots at the start and finish of the letters.

He had heard about these essays. Ron was writing about how the Death Eaters were able to attack even Aurors and their families. Ron focused on his aunts and uncles' deaths, along with a few families of friends. Burke had assigned Hermione a topic about why the Death Eaters attacked and destroyed whole Muggle villages and got away with it. Seamus was writing his essay on the Death Eater view on half-bloods and how the half-bloods fit in the war.

Burke had assigned these essays to be personal. Dean, Neville, Hermione, and Ron had all pulled it off professionally, not allowing their personal feelings overtake their essays. They all had had Harry review their essays, and minus a few mistakes, they were fine. But, Burke was a genius (Harry knew he would have hated his topic, which most likely would have been about the dreaded Halloween night) for doing this. Everyone had poured themselves into the research. Between weighting it more than normal and the personal connections, everyone wanted to learn as much as possible about it.

Finally finished with Neville's, Harry stood stiffly and placed the essays on their owners’ trunks. He stretched and went back to bed, closing his curtains behind him. Stretching out even more on the bed, Harry's knee hit something and knocked it over. He cursed at himself as he felt Neville's ink soak his pajama bottoms. Grabbing his wand, he lit it and surveyed the mess. The ink well was only half empty, and a quick cleaning spell removed the mess from the pajamas and blankets. He sealed the ink, stood back up, and placed it next to Neville's essay. He returned to his bed, picking up the WG notebook and placing it on top of the notebook waiting for Ginny. Finally, he laid back down, closed the curtains, and closed his eyes, begging for dreamless sleep to claim him.

It was dreamless, as far as Harry could remember the next morning. It had even been restful, to a point. There had been one moment, not long past two, that Harry had awoken and nearly cried out in pain as his scar burned ferociously. But, there had been no vision accompanying the pain, and after he had taken a few deep breaths and lay down, he fell back to sleep. When he woke up the next morning, Harry couldn't remember ever having woken up at all. It wouldn't last long, this peaceful forgetfulness.