The Rebirth

Chapter 7

The Prince

December 1, 1997

The dungeon was cold and damp. Ginny didn't think that holding class in a room where the students could see their breath was a very healthy thing to do. She was tired enough lately from teaching herself wandless magic every night and practicing with Harry and their link twice a week. Freezing to death wasn't going to make her feel any better. Even though Professor Snape hadn't yet arrived, many students were already starting fires underneath their cauldrons and warming their hands in the meager heat of the flames.

Snape swept into the room, strongly reminding Ginny of a large, freaky bat. He looked haggard this afternoon; he was paler than usual and had dark circles under his eyes, which were red with exhaustion. Ginny wondered what he had done over the weekend, whether it had anything to do with Alastor Moody, who was still missing, and what Dumbledore could've been thinking, sending Snape on a potentially dangerous mission when it was obvious the man needed a few days of sleep and a good meal. The professor distractedly rubbed his left forearm through his robes as he surveyed the room. Ginny didn't think he was really seeing them. She wondered if she should mention something to Dumbledore, suggest that he should give Snape a few days off, and then questioned why she cared so much. Snape had certainly never been pleasant to her - apparently having hair in that particular shade of Weasley red was all it took to earn his everlasting animosity. He would never spare her a second thought, so she really shouldn't worry about him. He was a grown man, and if he was having trouble keeping his head above water then it was his responsibility to say something to the Headmaster.

Ginny snapped out of her reverie when she noticed half the class rise and walk over to the storage cabinets. She leaned over to Ria and asked, "What are we doing?"

Ria looked up from her parchment, where she had been writing "RJ + DT" in the margins, and shrugged. "I wasn't listening. I thought you were."

Ginny said, "Between the two of us we should be able to figure it out. I'll just give you and Dean a moment alone, shall I?" She grinned at Ria's indignant expression and joined the back of the queue for ingredients.

When Ginny finally got to the front of the line, she stared for a moment at the contents of the student store cupboard. She had no idea what she was supposed to get. "Were we daydreaming when Snape gave the instructions?" someone said in her ear.

She recognized Mike's voice and didn't turn around. "Maybe. Do you have any information you want to share?"

He put his hands on her shoulders and began to rub. She couldn't hold back a sigh. It felt wonderful; she had been stressed lately and a neck massage was most definitely a welcome treat. He dropped his head until his cheek was right against hers, and looked over her shoulder into the cabinet. "You're very tense. You always look so tired lately. Is everything all right?" His thumbs revolved in gentle pressure against her upper back.

"Classes are difficult this year," Ginny said, hoping he wouldn't notice that she hadn't answered his question.

Mike was silent for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and asked quickly, "Do you like surprises?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

He gave a soft laugh and glanced over to make sure Snape wasn't paying them any attention. "I don't. But since you do, meet me in the entrance hall tomorrow night at nine o'clock."

"Why?"

He took his hands off her shoulders. "It's a surprise, Gin. Haven't you been paying attention? And, if I were you, I'd pick ingredients that will make a Soothing Solution."

"Is that because it's the assignment or because you think I need one?"

He laughed again. "Both."

She selected the proper items and looked at him for the first time during the entire exchange as she turned to go back to her seat. He grinned broadly, and she smiled back. His cheerfulness was contagious; she couldn't understand how someone could be so confident all the time, but Mike seemed to have discovered the secret.

* * * * *

Dana stared listlessly out the window. She hated History of Magic. She hated boring Professor Binns, the boring textbook, and the boring Ravenclaws who filled reams of parchment with notes and stared at the teacher with boringly false eagerness. They were all so transparent. Binns never noticed if a student kissed up or not; he didn't even know their names. Her gaze played across the Ravenclaw side of the room; classes Slytherins shared with other houses were always strictly segregated. None of the Ravenclaws would've dreamed of sitting on the Slytherin side. When they weren't taking their pointless notes, they were casting suspicious glances toward the students with green crests on their robes.

Delia caught Dana daydreaming and shot her a censorious glare. Delia gestured with her head toward the Professor and Dana sighed inwardly. Her perfect sister's mind never wandered in class. Dana turned her attention to the ghost at the front of the room and realized that he was explaining the research project that would be due at the end of winter term. Dana sat up a little straighter and listened carefully; she might not ever pay attention to lectures, but this assignment would count for a large part of her grade.

Professor Binns droned on, "The project will be done in groups of two. I want you all to pair up and then one person from each group will come to the front and choose a topic out of the dish." He gestured to a bowl on the desk that held several folded-up pieces of paper. "Choose your partners carefully, because this project will count for forty percent of your final grade. Once your research has been conducted, each group is to hand in three feet of parchment on their discoveries and then we will hear oral presentations on each topic."

Professor Binns was extremely indignant at having to give this project. He told Minerva that he had been teaching this subject for close on seventy years and his pupils had never complained about his homework assignments, but she had insisted that Hogwarts students' performance on History of Magic O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s were woefully subpar. Then she actually had the audacity to present him with a list of paper topics, not one of which dealt with goblin rebellions.

Dana glanced around the room. The six Slytherin boys immediately paired off with each other. Tinamyia Cherrydale and Portia Parkinson both cast her hopeful looks; they had argued with each other a few days ago and still weren't speaking. Dana didn't particularly trust either of them with forty percent of her grade, especially because she knew she'd wind up doing most of the work.

Across the room, the Ravenclaws had all partnered up. Delia sat alone, the odd one out, trying very hard to look as though she didn't care. "Dana," Portia began, but Dana cut her off.

"I'm working with my sister," she said, gathering her things. "I'll see you two after class, all right?" She moved to the Ravenclaw side of the room without waiting for a response.

Dana slid into the desk next to her twin and asked, "Do you need a partner?"

Delia gave her a scathing look. "Do you need to rub it in? This is humiliating enough, having to pair with a Slytherin."

Dana ignored the insult to her house and said mildly, "Maybe if you'd act like a human being once in a while somebody from your own house wouldn't mind working with you. As it is, you're stuck with me." She glanced over to her dorm mates who were bickering heatedly. "Although I'm sure Tinamyia Cherrydale wouldn't mind coming over here, if you'd rather."

Delia eyed Tinamyia and made a face. "Cherrydale? Is she the one with hair like a fright wig?"

"She has a problem with humidity." Dana tried not to laugh.

Delia shuddered. "She's insufferably dim. I'll make do with you, I suppose."

"Thanks so much," Dana said sarcastically. "I'll just go pick a topic then."

She got to the front of the room, drew a slip out of the dish, and unfolded it. It read: Research and analyze the Druidic magical practices (The Old Ways). How have they transformed into the magic we use today? Discuss in terms of power, ritual, and nature.

Dana rejoined her sister and handed her the assignment slip. Delia was exasperated. "Honestly, Day, couldn't you have picked something a little less boring?" She gestured with her head toward a pair of Ravenclaw boys. "They drew an analysis of how muggle politics aided the rise of Grindelwald."

"Then why don't you ask to trade?" Dana suggested. She was determined to not let Delia get to her, and reminded herself that if she didn't work with her sister she'd be stuck with Portia or Tinamyia. At least this way she was guaranteed a good grade. Delia's marks were never less than superb, as their parents were always saying.

Delia went to every group of Ravenclaws and asked to switch topics, but there were no takers. She returned to her desk, her face creased in irritation. "It looks like we're stuck with the moldy old Druids. Grindelwald would've been fascinating, don't you think?"

"He would've been," Dana agreed. Suddenly, she had a flash of inspiration. "Dee, have you had Defense Against the Dark Arts yet?"

Delia shook her head. "We have it Tuesdays and Thursdays. Why?"

"I had it this morning. Professor Figg is assigning term projects this week. She said that if we don't like any of the assigned topics, we can come to her with our own ideas."

"So?"

"So," Dana said, getting excited, "if we research the Old Ways and include the evolution of dark magic as well as light, we could probably turn this paper in for two different classes. It would mean a lot less work."

Delia's mouth turned up in a speculative smile. "Research dark magic? Day, that's the first interesting thing you've said in months."

Dana ignored the backhanded compliment and focused on her sister's intrigued look. "Then do you want to?" If Delia was excited about the research, she might not be completely insufferable to work with.

"We'll need access to the Restricted Section," Delia said half-aloud. She gave her sister an excited smile. "I'll talk to Professor Figg tomorrow. It's a brilliant idea, Day. It should be extremely educational."

* * * * *

After dinner that evening, Ginny laid on her bed with the curtains drawn and her eyes closed. Although she didn't look it, she was very busy. Over the past week, Ginny felt the potion's affect on her link with Harry beginning to fade, so she set about constructing a barrier of her own. Unfortunately, the more she used her new power, the stronger it became and the harder it was to bend to her will.

Ginny grabbed hold of a tongue of the silver flame that always burned inside of her and pushed it up against the link, strengthening the wall that kept her mind separate from Harry's. Ginny added a little to this wall every night, hoping that when the potion finally wore off the separation she built would hold.

Ginny was just finishing up for the evening when someone opened the curtains of her bed and she felt the candlelight spill across her face, creating red fireworks against the backs of her closed eyelids. She opened her eyes and squinted up at Ria, who looked down at her with a vaguely amused expression. "Gin, it's eight o'clock. Too late to take a nap and too early to go to bed."

Ginny opened her eyes all the way as she grew used to the light. "Is there something you need?"

"Harry sent me up here to get you. Apparently you forgot a study session." Ria was fairly sure that there was more to these semiweekly get-togethers than Harry and Ginny let on, especially since Harry made it quite clear last month that his feelings for Ginny went beyond mere friendship. Still, Ginny treated Harry in quite the same way she always did, so Ria had no way of knowing whether or not he had followed her advice and confessed his feelings. Unfortunately for Ria's wild curiosity, good manners prevented her from asking Harry and she would rather face down a horde of dragons than ask Ginny.

For a moment Ginny was confused; lately, using the power on any kind of large scale made her lightheaded. It was why she always fortified the separation in their link while lying down. "Study session? Oh! Oh, right." She sat up quickly, but the head rush made her flop back onto the bed. "Could you tell him I'll be down soon?"

"Are you all right, Ginny? If you were sleeping, I can tell him you'll reschedule for tomorrow."

"No," Ginny said, lifting her arm above her face to look at her watch, "that's okay. I was awake."

Ria paused and then asked, "What were you doing up here, then, instead of sitting in the common room? Are you angry with us?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "No, of course not. I was...meditating."

Ria raised an eyebrow. "Meditating?" she asked skeptically. "Why?"

"Oh, you know," Ginny said vaguely. "Why not? To cultivate good, purify my mind, divorce myself from worldly attachment so I don't build up any new karma, that sort of thing."

Now Ria looked at Ginny as though she had grown another head. "What? Really?"

"No." Ginny swung her feet to the floor and unsteadily pulled herself to her feet. "I'm a bit dizzy though. Could you ask him to give me a minute?"

"Okay," Ria said. She shot Ginny one last concerned look as she closed the door to the dorm room.

Ginny took a deep breath and willed her head to stop spinning. She retrieved her wand from under her pillow, grabbed a book from her nightstand and her broom from her trunk. Then she drained a glass of water, smoothed out her robes, and went to meet Harry, who waited impatiently downstairs.

* * * * *

Ginny and Harry stood at one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the east tower. The room was chilly; the glass did almost nothing to insulate the two students from the December cold. Outside, the moon reflected off of the light dusting of snow, vaguely illuminating the broomshed and Quidditch locker rooms. Ginny rubbed her arms and eyed the wintry landscape. "I'll flip you for it."

Harry sighed. "Do we have to?"

"We've already been all over the school," Ginny pointed out. "We can talk from different rooms without any trouble, even when we're on opposite sides of the castle." She looked down at the pitch. "But this is further than we've ever tried before." Harry grumbled and Ginny teased, "Is poor ickle Harry scared of getting cold?"

"It's freezing out there. I didn't bring an outside cloak."

"I don't have mine either. If it's too cold, you can always come inside."

"I can come inside?" Harry asked pointedly. "I thought we were going to flip for it."

"Do you have anything to flip with?" Ginny had absolutely no desire to stand in the middle of the snowy Quidditch pitch for Goddess knows how long. What was the good of Pendragon powers if she didn't use them to her advantage, after all?

Harry fished a Sickle out of his pocket and told her, "Call it in the air."

"Tails," Ginny said the moment it left his hand.

She watched it revolve, as though in slow motion, while it reached its peak and then fell. She used a small banishing charm to give gave the coin an extra little twist just before it landed, and Harry looked at it with chagrin. "Tails it is." His expression turned instantly suspicious. "Did you cheat?"

"Of course not. I'm a Gryffindor. We're honest and true."

"That's Hufflepuff."

"Whatever." She handed him her broom with a cheeky grin and jerked her head towards the window. "The pitch is that way. Have a nice trip."

She had cheated, and they both knew it. Harry gave her a wry smile and swung his leg over the broom. "If my toes freeze off, I hope you feel really bad."

"I'm sure I will," she said, sliding the gigantic windowpane aside for him. "Now off with you."

He took off with a jaunty backward wave, and she shut the window as soon as he was clear. It really was bloody cold out there.

She watched him spiral down to the pitch. The black of his school robes blended with the shadows that sliced across the glistening snow on the ground. When he landed, Harry flashed a light with his wand to let her know he was ready. Ginny flashed back. "Sermo," she said to her wand and then held the tip up to her mouth. "Harry, can you hear me?"

"Yes." His voice was distant but clear as it broadcast through her wand. "How should we do this?"

"Let's just try it right now and see what happens," Ginny answered. She said through the link, Harry, can you hear me? No response. Hopefully this is going to work. Harry, hello?

"Have you started yet?" his voice came through the wand.

"I have. No good?"

"No good," Harry confirmed. "I'm probably just too far away. Or maybe the cold is affecting my brain."

"Cast one of Hermione's fire charms," Ginny suggested.

"And put it in my shoes? That's where I need it most."

"Not such a great idea then." Ginny pulled the small paperback out of her pocket. She had borrowed it from Shannon a few days ago and thought it made for interesting reading. "Why don't you start towards the castle? Let me know when you can hear me."

"Are you just going to talk off the top of your head?" Harry asked. During these experiments Ginny was usually forced into long monologues while they tested distance. The things that came out of her mind when she wasn't paying attention were often quite entertaining.

"I feel like an idiot when I do that," she answered. "I brought something to read."

"Okay, I'm going."

Ginny looked out the window and saw Harry's form detach from the shadow of the Quidditch stands and move towards the castle. She opened Shannon's book to a dog-eared page. Every prince must desire to be considered merciful and not cruel. He must, however, take care not to misuse this mercifulness. Cesare Borgia was considered cruel, but his cruelty had brought order to the Romagna, united it, and reduced it to peace and fealty.

Ginny checked out the window; Harry was still going. She skipped a little down the page. One ought to be both feared and loved, but as it is difficult for the two to go together, it is much safer to be feared than loved, if one of the two has to be wanting.

"Okay, Gin, I can hear you. What the hell are you reading?"

"It's a kind of manual on how to run a country."

If you say so, but it sounds pretty dodgy.

Not really, she protested. It's shrewd.

"Okay, I'm going to back up now," Harry said into his wand. Shrewdness is a Slytherin value, Gin, not a Gryffindor one.

That doesn't mean it's a bad thing, Ginny replied, keeping a careful eye on the glowing tip of his wand as it slowly retreated towards the pitch. Weren't you almost put in Slytherin?

Harry groaned. Do me a favor, all right? Never mention that to Ron. He'd be -

He abruptly cut out. "Harry, I've lost you."

His light stopped moving. "Can you reach around the barrier any more?"

"It's kind of hard right now," she explained. "The thing is on its last legs. It could cave in any minute and I'm not sure if my wall is strong enough to hold. I don't want to risk breaking anything. We'd be right back at square one."

"Okay, we'll make do."

Ginny and Harry labored away for the next two hours, slowly stretching and extending the reach of their link until Harry once again stood under the bleachers of the Quidditch pitch and they conversed with ease. Can I come up yet? he asked. My feet are soaking wet.

You mean you were walking that whole time? Ginny asked, surprised. Why didn't you ride the broom?

He was silent for a moment. Then he said shortly, I'm coming back inside now.

She laughed. It didn't even occur to you? Airhead.

I'm not, he protested, nearing the window. Ginny slid it open and Harry landed on the carpet with a wet squelch. "Well," he eyed his wet shoes, "maybe a little bit."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement and she held up her wand. "Let me fix it."

"What!" Harry exclaimed. "You mean you haven't perfected drying charms yet?"

"I can do them just fine," Ginny answered tartly. "Better than you, I'll wager. The one you cast on my birthday was useless."

"I mean without the wand," Harry said. "Try it. I want to see what happens."

"You might end up an amputee. Or on fire," Ginny warned.

"I'll take my chances," he said recklessly. "I'm a daredevil Gryffindor to the core. That'll teach you to bring up that I was almost in Slytherin."

She stuck the wand in her pocket and focused on Harry's shoes. Ginny visualized the way they looked earlier, when they were dry. She cemented that image in her mind as she grabbed a bit of the silver light and focused it on what she wanted to happen. Ginny imagined the water evaporating, imagined the way it felt when her feet were toasty warm and projected that sensation through the power. Then she raised her eyes back to Harry's. He grinned with genuine pride. "It worked like a charm."

"It is a charm," she said with an answering smile. "Shall we? I'm exhausted."

Harry held the door open for her and slung her broom over his shoulder as they walked down the stairs. "Maybe you should get to bed early tomorrow, if you're so tired. Extra sleep never hurt anybody."

"Maybe," she answered noncommittally. Ginny was meeting Mike tomorrow night for his surprise. She had no idea what was in store, but she didn't think it would involve going to bed early. She briefly considered telling Harry her plans for the next evening, but changed her mind almost right away. Goddess only knew how he would react, and anyway, it wasn't really his business. The moment she made the decision, though, Ginny felt guilty. She had told so many lies and half-truths over the past month to the people she cared about most. She had become quite good at it, and it was killing her.

"There is no maybe," Harry said. "You need rest. Whatever is going on tomorrow, you can put it off."

"Yeah," Ginny agreed, although she had no intention of doing so.

Harry nodded in satisfaction and rested his hand on her lower back as they rounded a corner.

* * * * *

The next night, Ginny descended the marble stairs to the entrance hall at five minutes to nine. Mike was nowhere in sight, so she sat on the steps to wait. Fifteen minutes later, just as she was about to leave, he jogged through one of the doors. To Ginny's surprise, he hadn't come from the direction of Ravenclaw house but up from the dungeons. Mike smiled in relief when he saw her.

"Did you think I wouldn't show up?" Ginny asked when she saw his expression.

"Of course not," Mike lied. "You love surprises."

"Yes I do." She stood and brushed off her robes. "So what is it?"

He fidgeted for a moment, looking very excited. "It's not exactly something I'm giving you. It's more like, um, I really just have to show you."

"Sounds good," Ginny said, smiling at his enthusiasm. "Lead the way."

She followed him down several staircases and through a few very long hallways. The stone walls were damp, and Ginny could tell that they were several floors underground. The air was cool, but not cold as it had been in the tower last night. Mike halted in front of a thick wooden door and turned to her. "We're here."

"All right," Ginny said, looking around. She had never been in this part of the school before.

"Maybe you should, um...just don't look, okay?" She dutifully closed her eyes, and heard Mike push the door open. He took her hands in his and led her across the threshold. "No peeking," he ordered as he closed the door.

Ginny waited patiently. When Mike didn't say anything she asked, "Can I look yet?"

"Just a second." She heard him fussing with something, and then he said, "Okay, open your eyes."

Ginny gasped in sincere astonishment. Mike had arranged an indoor picnic. Tapers were set all around and filled the small dungeon with a soft yellow glow. The room was bare of furniture, but a red and white checked blanket covered the center of the floor. On top of the makeshift tablecloth was arrayed a full meal service for two. Domed silver warmers topped the dinner plates, and crystal goblets winked and glittered in the candlelight. "Wow," she breathed.

"You like it then?" he asked happily. "You've looked so stressed lately, and I remembered that Bill always used to take you on picnics when you were little, so I thought - "

"It's perfect," Ginny cut in, wide eyed. "Just perfect."

To her surprise, Mike blushed at her praise. "The house elves took care of most of it. Yesterday I told them what I wanted and everything was ready for me to pick up twenty minutes ago."

"It's still a fantastic idea," Ginny told him. "I'm definitely surprised."

"Great." Mike settled himself down on the blanket. "I set it all up myself, and found the room too."

"It's very...atmospheric," Ginny observed, looking around. "I doubt anybody has thought to have a picnic in the dungeon before."

"Not just any dungeon," Mike said proudly. "We happen to be right next door to the Slytherin common room."

"You're kidding."

"No, really. They're right on the other side of that wall." He gave her a cheerful grin. "I thought it would lend an air of adventure to the whole thing. Cater to your Gryffindor sensibilities and all."

Ginny laughed. "Considerate and original. Quite a combination."

"You've got the original part right. Never let it be said that Michael Aurelius Fletcher has usual tastes in date locations."

"Are we on a date?" Ginny asked, slightly taken aback.

He gave a casual shrug, but watched her very carefully when he said, "Maybe. Do you want to be?" Mike wasn't sure what kind of reaction he was hoping for, but his question was answered with a loud peal of laughter.

Ginny had removed the domed warmer from her plate. Carefully arranged on the finest china the house elves could find were a frankfurter and a pile of crisps.

"What's so funny?" Mike asked.

"This! All...this," she answered when she calmed down enough to speak. "China and candles and crystal and frankfurters!" She fell into another paroxysm of laughter and Mike looked slightly concerned.

"I thought you liked them."

"I do," she said, still giggling a bit. "I do, really. This is absolutely fantastic. Exactly what I needed for a pick-me-up."

Mike was relieved; she hadn't been laughing at him. "I have relish," he offered helpfully, holding out the jar.

"Naturally. You thought of everything." Ginny grinned broadly.

"I did," Mike confirmed, pleased that she had noticed. "Right down to your favorite condiment." This set her off again, and this time he laughed along. She really did look thrilled with his surprise. He filled their glasses with water and they dug into their meals with enthusiasm.

"You know, Gin," Mike said after a while. "If anything is going on at all you can tell me."

"Of course I can," she answered pleasantly. Ginny tossed a crisp into the air and tried to catch it in her mouth, but it bounced off her nose and fell to the floor.

"My, what atrocious table manners you have," he said sweetly. "Were you raised in a barn?"

Ginny made a face at him. "No, in a Burrow."

Mike gave her a brief smile and then pressed, "Seriously. What's been going on with you lately?"

"Nothing really," Ginny said, carefully keeping her voice neutral. Mike had known her for so long, he would spot a lie immediately. And he did.

"Oh? Then why do you look like you haven't slept in about a week?"

Ginny raised her eyebrows and asked sharply, "Is it personal questions day or something? I said there's nothing worth telling."

"But maybe something worth hearing," Mike retorted, frowning at her outburst. She didn't answer, and he continued, "Is it Potter?"

Ginny knew the look on his face. Snapping at him had been a serious tactical error. There was no way he would drop it now. "Of course not."

"Has he been bothering you?" Mike asked. "I know that you were, I mean, that you used to have a thing - "

"Not any more I don't. That was ages ago. You're probably the only one who still remembers."

"Then why - "

"Let it go, Mike," Ginny said. "I'm under a lot of pressure from school right now, Voldemort is on the rise, and Shannon snores to wake the dead. Is it any wonder I'm a bit short on sleep?"

"No," Mike said, refilling her water glass. "It's not. I just wanted you to know that you can talk to me if anything's wrong."

He looked at her with his deep blue eyes, ringed with long, dark blond lashes. There was real concern there, and in that moment Ginny almost told him everything. The words welled in her throat and nearly spilled out, but just in time Dumbledore's order rang through her mind. The fact that you're the Pendragon is not to go beyond this room. "Thanks, Mike," she said quietly. "I appreciate it."

"You'd better," he answered with a smile. "I don't have the time or patience to listen to the troubles of just anybody."

"Oh! You're too important and busy, then, to spare time for us ordinary folk?"

The somber mood was broken and Mike teased, "I've called you a lot of names in my time, Gin, but ordinary has never been one of them."

"Too right it hasn't." She punctuated her comment by tossing a crisp at him.

"I was mistaken when I said your table manners were merely atrocious, Miss Weasley. They are thoroughly abominable," Mike scolded in an uncanny impression of Professor McGonagall. Then he threw a handful back at her. Within seconds, the atmospheric picnic had degenerated into an all out food fight.

When their plates were empty of food they could throw at each other, the pair looked around at the mess they had created. "I wonder what the Slytherins would say if we just left all this stuff here for them to find," Ginny mused, shaking crumbs out of her hair.

"Don't tempt me." Mike pulled out his wand. "I promised the elves I would clean up after."

"You did?" she asked, incredulous. "I would think they'd be happy to do it themselves."

"I'm sure, but I'd feel bad." Mike began casting charms on the crisp-strewn floor. "A card-carrying member of S.P.E.W. can't very well go around creating extra work for them."

"You're not in S.P.E.W."

"Sure I am," he said, glancing at her. "Aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"But what? You thought only Gryffindors were into social justice and sticking up for the underdogs?"

"Of course not," Ginny said, pulling herself to her feet. "It's just that...I don't know. Never mind."

"All done." Mike folded the blanket on the now spotless floor and then walked over to Ginny. "Now we just have to clean you up a bit. You're covered in crumbs."

"So are you."

He smirked. "You're a much bigger mess. I'm obviously the supreme victor in the great crisp battle of 1997."

Ginny snorted and began sweeping him off with the palms of her hands. "Hardly. You're in quite a state."

Mike brushed his hands down her sleeves. When he had cleared her of crisp bits, he rested his hands on her shoulders, close to her neck. He looked down at her face, set in concentration as she cleaned him off. Mike swallowed hard, shored up his nerve, and said, "Gin, I have a few confessions to make."

"Sure," she murmured, distracted, as she swept her hands down his chest to make sure she hadn't missed a single grain of salt.

"I haven't been working on my impulse control."

"Hmmm?"

"Last month, after Hogsmeade, you told me to work on my impulse control but I haven't."

"Oh, well, you're young yet," Ginny said. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to worry about that sort of thing."

"There's something else," Mike told her. "I didn't give you any advance warning."

"You didn't...what?" She looked up at him in confusion.

"You said that if I ever kiss you again you'll need advance warning. I forgot to memo you ten days ahead."

Ginny's mouth dropped open slightly. She snapped it shut again and said, "You mean you want to kiss me?"

Mike nodded.

"What, you mean now?"

He laughed at that. "It seems as good a time as any."

Her hands stilled on his chest and, because she was too surprised to think of any other words, she said, "Okay."

Mike slid one hand around to her back and tightened his grip on her shoulder with his other as he lowered his mouth to hers. It was nothing at all like kissing Harry, Ginny reflected, and there was no way she could ever confuse the two. Harry made her heart pound and her head swim. Mike's kiss, while very nice, didn't make her light headed in the least. She was in full control of her thoughts and body the entire time, and aware enough of her surroundings to note the slight tremble of his fingers against her neck. He was nervous, although he hid it well.

Mike pulled back and looked down at her. "Wow," he said with a smile. "You've done this before."

"I could say the same for you," Ginny replied. He really was a good kisser.

His smile deepened. "A few times," he acknowledged in a way that clearly said it had been more than a few. Ginny had a sudden, very funny thought of Mike as the heartbreaker of Ravenclaw house. She stifled her laughter, though. For all she knew, he actually was. Mike continued, "Since we've done away with advanced notice today, I think I'd like to do it again."

The moment his lips touched hers, Ginny felt a terrible tremor in her link with Harry. The potion's barrier was coming down. Her mind swirled in panic. The backup barrier wasn't finished yet! Completely forgetting that she was in the middle of kissing someone, Ginny steeled herself and shoved her power into the link. It roared through her in protest and she gasped at the effort, but forced the energy to hold steady. Mistaking her gasp for quite another sort of sound, Mike sank his hands into her hair and deepened the kiss. Ginny gripped handfuls of his robe in her fists and braced all the fire she could grab against the link. Her silver wall bowed, bent, and then held. It worked. The link was now officially and permanently contained. Ginny trembled with relief. Mike pulled back and brushed her hair from her face. "That was amazing."

"It was," she agreed breathlessly. "I can't believe it."

He grinned. "Neither can I. If somebody had told me even just last year that this was how I'd be spending my evenings I would've thought they needed a stay at St. Mungo's."

Ginny realized that they were talking about two completely different things so she stood on tiptoes, pecked him on the cheek, and said, "I had a great time tonight. Thanks for the picnic. It was really thoughtful."

"I'm glad you liked it." Mike felt a wonderful satisfaction flow over him. "We'll have to do it again soon."

"The kissing or the meal?"

"Um," he said, playing with a lock of her hair, "both, I think."

"That sounds like fun." Ginny looked over to the dishes stacked on the folded blanket. "Do you need any help taking that stuff to the kitchen?"

"That's okay," Mike said. "I've got it. But thanks for asking."

"You're welcome. I'll see you later then?"

"Tomorrow in Runes," he answered, squeezing her in a quick hug.

"Good night, Mike."

"Sweet dreams, Gin."

She smiled, and then slipped out into the hallway. Ginny fairly skipped to the staircase. The link held! No more worrying about losing herself in Harry. And Mike had served her frankfurters! It was all too funny. She couldn't keep a silly grin off her face as she climbed up the stairs.

Back in the dungeon room, Mike wore a similar grin as he gathered up his picnic supplies. Ginny Weasley! Who'd have ever thought it?

* * * * *

Shannon walked purposefully through the halls, heading for the library. She carefully eyed every student she passed, in case one of them was the girl she was looking for. Madame Pince was just shutting the glass doors as Shannon arrived. "No, please," Shannon said, "I just have to come in for a book. It's an emergency."

"Then you shouldn't have waited until eleven o'clock at night," the librarian said. "We're closed."

"Please?" Shannon asked again, putting on her most innocent, helpless expression. "I loaned my copy to my friend, but I need it for homework that's due tomorrow and I don't know where she is. Can't you make an exception just this once?"

"No," Madame Pince said. "And maybe this will teach you to be less generous when it comes to lending your books to people who vanish the night before your assignment is due."

The librarian thought she was making it up! "No, really, that's what happened," Shannon protested. "Just this once? In six years I've never turned a book in late."

"An excellent track record," Madame Pince said, "but no. If I bend the rules for you, I'll have to bend them for everyone." She shut the door firmly in Shannon's face.

"Argh!" She stomped away in frustration. How was she going to trace the making of a Minister of Magic without her copy of Machiavelli?

She rounded a corner in the middle of a full-on snit and barely noticed Draco Malfoy fall into step next to her. "Evening, Cannon," he greeted. "What has your robes in a twist?"

Shannon looked up at him and felt a wild flash of hope. If there was anyone else in the school who owned a copy of Machiavelli, it was sure to be Draco. Now it was just a matter of convincing him to lend it to her. And so she said the words she had hoped to never say to a Malfoy. "I need a favor."

He looked intrigued. "You are aware what that will entail, aren't you? I don't do favors without the promise of some kind of return. The bigger the favor the bigger the payback, and you look like you need something very badly."

"Do you own a copy of The Prince?"

"Doesn't every self-respecting Slytherin? Muggle he may have been, but Machiavelli was one crafty, manipulative bastard."

Shannon licked her lips and said, "I need to borrow it. Just for the night, so I can write my History of Magic essay."

"And if you don't have the book?"

"Then my essay doesn't get done. Are you going to help me or not?"

He smirked. "This sounds like a very big favor."

"So what do you want? My firstborn? You've got it." Shannon knew he was jerking her around, but she put up with it because the assignment was for a huge part of her grade.

"Nothing so dramatic, Cannon," Draco said. He looked into her eyes for a long, unsettling moment and then said, "A promise of future payment will be sufficient."

"What does that mean?"

"It means," he said with a lazy smile, "that if I ever need you to do something for me, you're going to do it. Not too complicated. All we do is shake on it, and the agreement is binding."

"Binding and open ended," Shannon sulked.

"Do you want the book or not? Getting what you need in return for a simple favor somewhere down the line is far less painful than surrendering your firstborn."

"Fine." She shook his hand and felt the tingle of contractual magic flow between them. Shannon expected nothing less. Malfoys never did anything halfway.

"It's in my dorm," he told her. "Come on." Draco started off down the hall. Shannon had to jog to keep up; his legs were quite long.

She cursed Ginny with every step. In debt to a Malfoy was never a good place to be. If Ginny hadn't vanished to God only knew where, Shannon would have her book and be curled up in the nice, cozy Gryffindor common room instead of chasing after Draco Malfoy on her way to some random dungeon.

"So where are the mudbloods?" Draco asked once they were in a deserted corridor.

"Who?" Shannon asked.

"You know, Johnson and Winters. I thought you never went anywhere without them, proper wizarding pride be damned."

"Gwen is only half muggle," Shannon said. She was starting to get out of breath. "Do you think you can slow down a bit?"

He complied. "Is there really a difference?" Draco asked as they walked. "Both of them come from families that aren't like ours and you show an obscene lack of respect for your lineage every time you're seen with them."

Shannon shrugged. "They're not like you'd think, though. Even Ria, with her muggle parents...she's not...neither of them are how you'd expect. They're my friends."

He gave her a calculating look and said simply, "Then you're lucky."

Her eyes were equally sharp. "Why?"

"Because you have to sleep with them. Tell me, Cannon, have you ever thought about - "

They rounded a corner just in time to see Ginny reach the top of a staircase at the other end of the hall. "Gin!" Shannon exclaimed. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Do you have my book?"

"I'm sorry," Ginny said, "I thought I gave it back to you. It's probably in my bag."

"Great!" Shannon exclaimed. "Let's go get it then. I need it."

"You still owe me, Cannon," Draco pointed out.

Ginny gave him a scornful look. "Like she'd ever be masochistic enough to make a bargain with you."

His mouth curled up in an ugly sneer. "Reading Machiavelli, Weasley? Didn't it offend your delicate Gryffindor sense of justice?"

Ginny said something very rude under her breath and started down the hall. Shannon followed.

"I made the deal in good faith, Cannon," he called after her, "and I was going to uphold it. The contract is still valid."

Shannon turned. "I'm not borrowing the damn book from you anymore, Malfoy. Get over it."

He pulled out his wand. Ginny immediately responded in kind. But, instead of throwing a curse, he said, "Accio."

For a moment the three of them stood motionless. Ginny kept her eyes glued to Draco's wrist. That was where she'd see if he was going to try anything. A book flew up the stairs, around the corner, and smacked Shannon squarely in the forehead. She caught it as it fell. "And now," Draco said, smug satisfaction spreading across his face, "I've loaned you the book. The bargain is valid and I want my payback."

"What kind of payback?" Ginny asked.

"That's between Miss Cannon and I."

"The hell it is, Malfoy. What kind of payback? Tell her so she can get it out of the way."

He scrutinized Ginny for a moment, and then looked at Shannon, his eyes no less calculating than before. "Come to my parents' Christmas party."

"What?" Shannon asked. "That's it?"

"Your parents were invited," Draco said. "I saw their names on the guest list, and yours. Don't refuse the invitation."

Shannon glanced at Ginny and shrugged. She turned back to Draco. "All right. I can handle that."

"Too right you can," he said. "There'll be an orchestra, and wonderful food. All the things your family can't afford, Weasley."

Ginny's eyes narrowed, but she didn't dignify him with a response. Draco slid his wand back in his pocket. "A pleasure doing business with you, Shannon." He turned and walked down the stairs without looking back.

"Did he just call you Shannon?" Ginny asked incredulously.

Shannon shivered. "Let's get back upstairs. It's weird down here."

"You should have hexed him." Dana's soft voice came from Ginny's right. "It would have saved me the trouble."

The two Gryffindors shrieked in surprise. "Dana!" Ginny said, turning to the fourth year. "You shouldn't lurk in doorways. Especially not in dungeons. People might get the wrong idea."

Dana shrugged. "Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "It was a really good show. Can you teach me how to draw my wand that fast?"

Ginny smiled weakly. "Some other time, sure. But Shannon has a paper to write and I'm freezing, so..."

"No problem," Dana said. "I'll see you two around, okay?"

The Gryffindors said goodbye and fairly raced up the stone steps. "What were you doing down there?" Shannon asked once they were out of earshot.

"Taking my evening constitutional," Ginny answered.

"In the dungeons? Not very healthy."

"Healthier than spending even one minute in the company of Draco Malfoy, I think."

"I was desperate," Shannon said. "The paper is due tomorrow."

"Well, you got out of the bargain easily enough."

"You're right. He could've asked me to do something really foul, instead of attending the social event of the year that I was planning on going to anyway. Malfoy's not such a bad sort, I guess."

Ginny gave Shannon a strange look. "He's absolutely chilling. There's something in his eyes that's just so cold."

* * * * *

Ginny and Shannon climbed through the portrait hole to Gryffindor tower and went straight to their dorm. The common room was practically empty; it was nearly midnight. "Let me get your book," Ginny said.

"Don't bother," Shannon told her. "I have Malfoy's copy."

"But if I don't give it back now, I'm going to forget." Ginny rummaged through her schoolbag and then moved to her trunk. The book wasn't there. "I must have left it in the tower," she said under her breath.

Shannon smiled slyly. "This is how you and Harry Potter amuse yourselves then? By reading political treatises?"

"Is that some kind of euphemism?" Ginny asked. "We were in the east tower, not the Astronomy tower."

"And snogging can only go on if the parties involved are in the proper location. Is that it? You two have a decided want of imagination, I think."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I wasn't snogging him."

"I never said you were," Shannon teased. "I said you were reading to him."

"As a matter of fact, I was. I'm just going to run back up to the tower and see if I left your book there."

The moment Ginny was gone, Shannon turned to Gwen and said, "Do you ever get the feeling that there's something going on with her?"

"And Harry?" Gwen asked. "Sometimes."

"No," Shannon looked at the door through which Ginny had just left, "just her."

* * * * *

Ginny jogged down the stairs. She had to finish this errand quickly; midnight was the curfew for sixth and seventh years, and if a teacher caught her out of Gryffindor tower she'd lose points. In the common room, Ron, Hermione, and Harry all stood by the portrait hole. Harry unfolded his invisibility cloak while Ron and Hermione kept watch. "What's going on?" Ginny asked.

"Mind your own business," Ron said shortly.

"Where are you three sneaking off to?"

"Leave it, Gin," Harry said.

Ginny gave him a disbelieving look. So you get to know where I am at all times of the day, but I don't get the same courtesy?

He paused just before dropping the cloak over his head. Pretty much. I'd tell you if I could, but it's better if you don't know.

"Ginny," Hermione said, "maybe you should go back to bed. We'll be back soon."

Ginny bristled at her tone, as though Ginny was an unruly six-year-old. She gave them all a sweet smile and said, "Well, don't get caught. I didn't score all those goals against Hufflepuff so you could lose the points."

"Have a little more faith in us than that, will you?" Ron said just before he disappeared beneath the cloak.

Ginny watched the portrait open and shut as the invisible people passed through. She counted to fifty and then left after them. Keeping track of Harry would be a piece of cake, now that the link was fully under her control. She silently crept through the hallway, determined to find out where they were going that was such a secret.

* * * * *

Ginny gasped in surprise when she peeked around the corner and saw the front door of the castle open and then creak shut. What did they think they were doing? It wasn't safe for Harry to be outside at night. Voldemort still wasn't strong enough to challenge Dumbledore directly by coming onto Hogwarts grounds, but Ginny fervently hoped they weren't sneaking off to Hogsmeade.

She slipped through the door and, standing in the shadows, scanned the lawns. She sensed that Harry wasn't heading for the village, which gave her a moment of relief. Then her blood ran cold. They were going straight into the Forbidden Forest.

Ginny pulled out her wand and, keeping to the shadows, followed about a hundred yards behind. It was strange, tailing someone she couldn't see, but Ginny's growing concern for Harry's safety prevented her from going back inside. She had heard terrible stories about the vicious creatures that inhabited the forest, and her brother's particularly grisly account of a spider the size of a horse kept floating through her mind. Whatever was going on, it must be very important if it induced Ron to set foot in there again.

When Ginny reached the tree line, she was hit with sudden indecision. Should she light her wand and risk them noticing her, or should she go in with nothing but the moon to guide her? Ginny paced to keep warm as she evaluated her options, and she finally settled on not using a light, even though she wasn't happy about it.

While she deliberated, Harry's trail had grown faint. Ginny followed it as best as she could, but her concentration was hindered by the sinister-looking forms of tree branches and the rustling sounds of the mysterious beasts. It was no wonder the forest was forbidden. Ginny was seriously creeped out. As she stepped into a clearing, she realized she was also seriously lost. Harry's trail was gone.

Ginny took a deep breath and tried to calm her pounding heart. She quieted her mind and looked through the link, reaching out to Harry's location. She felt herself drawing close when the thunder of hooves pounded into the clearing behind her. Ginny whirled around with a little scream of surprise. She faced a creature that towered above her, half man, half horse. His hair and beard were white-blond, and his blue eyes seemed to look through her.

"Oh my God." Her feet were rooted to the ground and she stared, wide-eyed, at the Centaur.

He started when he saw her, but recovered quickly and gave a low bow. "Greetings, young Pendragon."

"My name is Ginny," she breathed, heartily wishing her feet would move so she could back away from this terrifyingly majestic creature.

He inclined his head. "An honor to make your acquaintance. I am called Firenze."

"How did you know who I am?"

"My kind have awaited your coming for centuries. The Grand Council itself watched the sky on the night of your rebirth and traced the course of your star through the heavens."

Ginny blinked. "Why?" He stared down at her; she cleared her throat and said, "I mean, why go through all that trouble? I'm not really all that interesting."

The Centaur hid a smile beneath his beard. "Whether or not you are interesting is, of course, entirely up to you. But, interesting or not, you are very important to your people and to our Lady."

Ginny's head was beginning to ache. All the outdoor noises were much louder than they should have been. Her ears rang with the magnified cacophony of sound. The moonlight seemed to increase in intensity, gradually, but Ginny still noticed the change. She chalked it up to the strangeness of the forest and did her best to focus through the growing brightness and on the Centaur. "Please, have you seen three students pass this way? I've lost them."

"They are your friends?" he asked and she nodded. Firenze looked concerned. "Choose your friends carefully, young Pendragon. I have read the course of your life, and already you are mistaken in some of the ones you trust. They will betray you, or use you for their own ends."

Ginny frowned. "Can you be a little more specific?"

He shook his head. "I merely read the stars. I do not dare interfere with the fate of one so important to our Lady."

By now the light was so bright Ginny could barely see. Firenze seemed not to notice. For all Ginny knew, this kind of thing happened all the time out here. She shouted over the deafening sounds that swirled around her. "Who is your Lady?"

He gestured to the stars that carpeted the sky. "The Mórrígan, the Lady of fate and destiny. She is the Great Queen of my people and the only one to whom we swear allegiance."

"It figures." She couldn't escape Mórrígan for even a single second, it seemed.

Firenze listened for a moment and then bowed again. "I must take my leave. This place is needed tonight. People approach who will help you."

Ginny had no idea how he could hear anything over the scream of the forest. Even the trees made an intolerable level of noise. She whirled around and, through the blinding glare, saw Ron, Harry, and Hermione enter the clearing, trailed by a large black dog. They talked earnestly with each other but stopped short when they saw her.

A crow cawed overhead.

Ginny's senses came apart.

The light was so bright, it burned away her vision, the sound so unearthly loud she thought her eardrums would burst. The fabric of life shrieked through her; thousands and millions of beings all clamored to be seen and heard. Her nose began to bleed. She doubled over, pressed her hands against her ears and screwed her eyes shut to block out the pain, but it was useless. The world roared, and Ginny couldn't stop screaming. It was all too much; the sheer sensory overload was pushing her to the brink of sanity.

The three seventh years stood rooted to the spot. Her scream propelled Harry and Ron into action at the same time; they both leapt towards Ginny, but Hermione grabbed the back of their robes. "If she's having a seizure, it's not a good idea to go near her. We have to figure out a way to get her to the hospital wing."

From the direction of the castle, Dumbledore and Snape dashed into the clearing. Dumbledore met Ginny's eyes and, without hesitating even a moment, pulled out his wand and shouted, "Stupefy!"

Ginny swayed, and then collapsed unconscious on the ground. Ron and Hermione stared openmouthed, but Harry immediately ran to her crumpled form. He used his sleeve to wipe the silver blood from her nose and upper lip before the others noticed it, and then cradled her protectively and shot Dumbledore an accusatory look. "What was that for?"

"What is she doing here?" Snape demanded. "This location is supposed to be secure. If my position is compromised in any way - " Snape was utterly dumbfounded. There had been a wildness to her countenance that would have looked more at home on an animal. Snape knew that look. It was one he had seen more times than he could count, in another life. It was a look that haunted his dreams - the way the people he had killed looked at him just before it happened. At the time, it never failed to give him a rush of power, of control over whether they lived or died. He felt like God, back during those days. But the Weasley girl - she looked at him as though she knew everything he had ever done. Terror, disgust, and pain had ripped through her eyes, the only part of her face he could see.

Dumbledore stepped into the clearing and said, "Ron, Hermione, please take Ginny to the hospital wing and tell Madame Pomfrey that I will be along shortly. Harry will join you after he's said goodbye to Sirius."

They didn't move. "You stunned my sister," Ron said, bewildered. "She was having some kind of...of fit, and you stunned her."

"She couldn't be allowed to see Sirius transform," Dumbledore said brusquely, "and Moody only has a matter of days. We can't afford the time it would've taken to get her back to the school. Please take her inside."

Dumbledore clearly would brook no discussion. Ron walked over to where Harry sat on the ground and bent down to pick Ginny up, but Harry wouldn't release his hold. "Harry," Ron said quietly, "let go of her. She needs to get to the hospital wing."

Harry looked up at the Headmaster and opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore said firmly, "We can't afford the time." Harry released Ginny and Ron picked her up. Giving Dumbledore a wide berth, Ron and Hermione quickly left the clearing.

As soon as they were gone, Dumbledore walked past Harry to where Sirius stood, now in human form. He handed Sirius an envelope and said, "Here is a rough account of their location. Severus has determined to the best of his ability that Moody is being held somewhere in this vicinity, and his time is almost gone. Lupin and Fletcher need all the help they can get."

Sirius nodded. "We'll do our best. I'll see you in a few days."

He crouched down in front of his godson, who still sat on the grass, and said softly, "He did what he had to do, Harry. It would've compromised my freedom and maybe even the mission if she'd seen that I was the dog. Don't be angry with him."

Harry nodded and Sirius pulled him into a rough hug. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay," Harry said. "Be careful."

Sirius smiled. "Always." He transformed and bounded into the forest.

Dumbledore looked down at Harry, who made no attempt to rise, and then turned to Snape and said, "Severus, I'll see you back at the school. Thank you for accompanying me tonight."

Snape, still shaken by the memories stirred by the look in Ginny's eyes, left without a word.

Harry watched him disappear into the trees. "That's not why you did it."

"Pardon?"

Harry stood. "She already knows that Sirius can turn into a black dog. She would've seen it when the link opened up. Why did you - "

"Harry, she was half a second away from exposing herself," Dumbledore explained. "In another moment, everyone standing here would've seen that she's the Pendragon and, at this point, that would be an absolute disaster. It's the worst thing that could possibly happen to her."

"Why?" Harry demanded. "She hates all the lying. I can tell."

"That may be, but it's necessary to preserve her safety. What if her identity had been revealed and Voldemort discovered Professor Snape's double agent status? Or if Sirius is captured on this mission? They would tell everything under torture or Veritaserum."

"So?" Harry asked. "She's the Pendragon. Voldemort would be stupid to try and hurt her. She's too valuable."

"That may be true, but the rest of the Weasleys are expendable. If Voldemort knew that she was the Pendragon, her family would immediately become the most hunted people in the entire Wizarding world. With them in his power, he would hold all the cards. Letting out that she's the Pendragon not only risks her life, but the lives of her brothers and parents as well."

Harry felt nauseous as the full implications of Dumbledore's words sank in. "What do you think is wrong with her?"

"I don't know," he answered, "but I have a feeling another one of her powers has just manifested itself."

"It always seems to hurt her terribly when that happens," Harry said. "I wish there was a way it could be done without so much pain."

Dumbledore clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him a reassuring, paternal squeeze. "She's going to be fine, Harry. You and I will make sure of that." Harry nodded gratefully and the Headmaster continued, "We should go to the hospital wing. No doubt Ron and Hermione are frantic."

"What are you going to tell them?"

Dumbledore hesitated. "A memory charm might be the best thing," he said, "but it's up to you, Harry. You're her protector. And now that you're fully aware of what could happen if her identity ever got out, you are the one who should make the choice."

Harry's head swam. This wasn't the kind of decision anyone ever wanted to make. If Ron and Hermione found out that he gave Dumbledore permission to erase their memories, they'd never trust him again. They were his best friends; Harry wouldn't have hurt them for the world. But Ginny's safety had to come first. Much as he might hate it, there was nothing else he could do.

"Obliviate them."

* * * * *

Dana and Delia spent their lunch break in the library pouring over ancient, dusty texts. Both girls were much more enthusiastic about their paper topic than they had been before; researching dark magic gave the entire enterprise a forbidden sort of air. "Look at this," Dana said, sliding her book across the table and pointing to a passage. "It's another one for our list."

Delia scanned the page and then scribbled a note on a piece of parchment. "Got it."

"Dee, do you think it's a little more than coincidence that we're finding all these things that we can - "

"What I think," Delia interrupted, "is that you should do more reading and less talking. Now that you've found a description of another druidic power, look through these other books and see what else there is on it. Do I really have to go through this every time? By fourth year you should have mastered the basics of research."

"Why bother looking it up," Dana sighed, "when I've been able to do it without even trying since I was six?"

"You might be able to do it but we don't know why and how," Delia pointed out, "and we haven't explained yet why I can't."

"But half the spells on the list are things you can do and I can't," Dana pointed out. "It's not like you're completely shut out."

"Less talk, more work, Day."

Dana tossed her quill on the desk in frustration. "I don't feel like it today. I can't concentrate."

Delia was annoyed. "Are you wasting time worrying about that one girl? The Gryffindor?"

"I can't help it. Natalie MacDonald said she's been in the hospital wing for three days. I hope she's okay."

"I don't know what you're all worked up about. She's not your friend."

Dana shrugged. "Maybe not, but she could be. I like her."

"But does she like you?" Delia asked. "She's a Gryffindor, Day. Do you think if you, a fourth year Slytherin, were in the hospital wing she'd give you a second thought? She's too caught up in her famous boyfriend to think about you. Gryffindors are all the same."

"I thought you had that wonderful memory, sis," Dana mocked, "or have you forgotten already that I'm seeing a Gryffindor?"

"Only because you were well paid for it."

"Actually, the bet with Tinamyia was just the icing on the cake," Dana said. "Besides, if I hadn't collected on the stupid thing it would have looked funny to the other girls. I take enough flak from them as it is; I wasn't about to compound it. Especially not with that stupid prat Malfoy announcing to the entire common room that Seamus kissed me." [A/N: For the full story, read the Chapter 5 Outtake by Danette posted in the Files section of the HP Pendragon yahoo group.]

"As fascinating as your personal life is, Day, I really don't feel like listening."

"As ever, the supportive twin." Dana took a new book from their pile and flipped through it. Something on one of the pages caught her eye, and she stopped to take a closer look. Dana couldn't keep an excited smile off her face as she read. This was, without a doubt, the coolest thing she'd ever seen. "Dee, look at this." She slid the book to her sister.

Delia scanned the page. "Wow," she said, her Ravenclaw appreciation for intricate spells coming to the fore. "So this is how it's done. No wonder they put the book in the Restricted Section; students would be all over it if Madame Pince left it out."

At her sister's enthusiasm, Dana had a wild idea. Maybe this project would distract Delia from her stupid quest. "The book isn't in the Restricted Section now," she pointed out. "It sitting right here on our table."

Delia's eyes were alight with fascination as she looked at her twin. "Do you actually think we could do it? It looks complicated."

"Why not? You're a Ravenclaw. Challenging transformations are a walk in the park. Besides, we have three years left at this school. That should be plenty of time to figure it all out."

Delia's eyes wandered back to the page. "I wonder what kind of animal I'd be."

"Get a quill and copy everything down," Dana instructed. "The book has to go back at the end of the day."

* * * * *

The moment Mike was dismissed from class, he raced to the hospital wing. Gwen told him in Runes that Ginny had been there since the night of the picnic. At first Mike thought Ginny was probably just under the weather, but after three days he was worried sick. When he got there, Mike pulled the door open and found his way immediately blocked by Madame Pomfrey. "Are you ill?" she asked.

"No, I'm fine," he said. "I'm here to see Ginny Weasley."

"Miss Weasley can't have visitors."

This was worse than he thought. "Is she all right?"

"She's fine, but she isn't to be disturbed, on the Headmaster's orders."

Mike looked over Madame Pomfrey's shoulder. A small form with red hair was curled up in one of the hospital beds. In a chair next to the bed sat Harry Potter; his eyes met Mike's with an unreadable expression. "You let him in," Mike said.

"Mister Potter is the only exception to the Headmaster's rule."

"Mister Potter is the exception to every rule," Mike said. "What makes him so special?"

Harry stood and walked over to the door. "Fletcher, she'll see you when she's awake."

"This isn't fair. I have just as much a right to be with her as you do."

"No," Harry said softly, "you really don't."

"Just because your parents are dead and you have a stupid scar Dumbledore lets you have special treatment?"

"It's a little more complicated than that." Harry could see that Mike's anger came out of worry for Ginny, so he contained his reaction to the Ravenclaw's disrespectful manner. However, he couldn't help but add in a quiet, matter-of-fact way, "And I don't care if you're her friend. If you ever speak about my parents in that tone again I'll put you through a wall."

"That's quite enough," Madame Pomfrey scolded, turning to Harry in disapproval. "I'm surprised at you, Potter."

From her bed, Ginny coughed weakly. Harry immediately dismissed Mike from his mind and rushed to her side. He drew the curtains around her bed and disappeared behind them.

Mike sent a frustrated look toward the curtains, then to Madame Pomfrey. Since there was nothing else for him to do, he left.

Harry sat down on the bed next to Ginny. "Are you all right?"

"Just give me a minute," she gasped. Ginny pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes to block out the colors and turned inward. She found the part of her soul that housed this new ability and, just as she had done with the link, she grabbed part of her silver fire and walled it off. It was an incomplete solution, but at least she'd be able to see and hear without losing her mind.

Ginny put her hands down and looked at Harry. A vague nimbus surrounded his body, the colors ever shifting. In those colors, she could read his thoughts, memories, the very building blocks that made him who he was. The world was saturated with the auras of every creature, and last night the power to see them had been awakened. The sound played on in the back of her mind - it was the symphony of life, no longer deafening, but still very much present.

"Are you all right?" he asked again as he helped her into a sitting position.

"I will be. Is there anything to drink in here?"

He poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the night table and she gulped it down. "Slowly," Harry cautioned. "You'll get a stomach ache. You haven't eaten in a while."

"How long is a while?"

"Three days."

Ginny sighed. "That's a really long time."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Dumbledore stunned you, but then when he did the Ennervate charm you didn't wake up. What happened?"

Ginny tried to remember. "It was like the world exploded. Everything burst into color and sound all at the same time. The sensory overload was...I was about to go mad. I would've done, if he hadn't stunned me. It was too much, too fast."

"Color and sound?" Harry asked.

Ginny remembered the prophecy. "Nothing is hidden anymore," she said in a horrified whisper. "I sealed it off, like with the link, but it's still leaking in. It's terrible, Harry. I don't ever want to use it."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"I would never feel like it's okay for me to just look inside of people. It's a huge violation of privacy, for one thing. I'm going to build a wall so the power doesn't come through unless I need it."

Harry didn't think Dumbledore would be very happy to hear that she was refusing to use one of her abilities, and he wished he could send an owl to Sirius to ask for advice.

"He's on a secret mission, Harry. Don't even think about it," Ginny said.

"Pardon?"

"Sirius. You can't owl him. He wouldn't know how to handle the problem anyway."

Harry stared. "You were already gone when Dumbledore gave him his orders. How do you know where he is?"

She gestured to the energy that surrounded him. "I can see it. I'm looking at it right now. He told you not to be mad at Dumbledore for stunning me and then gave you a hug and left to join Professor Lupin and Mike's dad."

"Okay, this is unsettling."

Ginny rested her chin on her drawn-up knees. "Try looking at it from this end. I'm going to kill the Dursleys if I ever see them again."

Harry wondered which Dursley transgression she was looking at, and then realized that she could probably see all of them.

Madame Pomfrey slid the curtain aside and chirped, "You're awake then, Miss Weasley! Excellent. I'll just examine you a bit to make sure everything is in order."

Ginny patiently tolerated the nurse's poking and prodding, noting with surprise that she and Dumbledore had been an item during their schooldays and that she had been a Slytherin. When Madame Pomfrey finished, she said, "I'll bring you a tray. You must be famished."

"Can't I please eat dinner in the Great Hall?" Ginny asked.

"I'm afraid not," she answered. "I'd like to keep you for observation."

"What if I came back right after? I could spend the night in here. My friends must be worried about me. Please?"

Madame Pomfrey frowned for a moment, and then said, "All right, if you promise to come back directly after your meal. Mister Potter, if anything happens to her I'm holding you personally responsible."

Ginny nodded, relieved. She knew her friends would be happy to see her; she didn't want them to be concerned.

* * * * *

Ginny dug into her dinner with the excitement of a starving person. She was ravenously hungry; she hadn't eaten anything since the frankfurter and crisps. Mike had swept her into a hug when she walked into the hall, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and whispered, "I'm glad you're better." Her three dorm mates all insisted on choosing foods for her plate, refilling her water glass, and fussing over her like mother hens. Ginny finally decided to sit back and enjoy the attention.

Suddenly, the door to the Great Hall banged open. Lupin, Mundungus Fletcher, Sirius in dog form, and three women Ginny didn't know all walked in and made straight for the teacher's table. The room fell silent. All six of them were caked in dirt and blood, and they looked defeated to a one. They stood in front of Dumbledore and Lupin leaned over and spoke quietly to him. "Oh no," Ginny whispered.

Dumbledore bowed his head, and then stood, a tightness in the set of his shoulders the only evidence of the emotion he felt. He said something to Professor McGonagall and walked around the table to join the Aurors. The group left the hall as suddenly as they had come. At the Ravenclaw table, Mike jumped up and raced after them. Ginny followed, and Harry went after her.

Ginny got into the entrance hall just in time to see the front doors to the castle shut in Mike's face. He stood and looked at them without moving. She walked up quietly. "Mike?"

Mike lowered his head. "He never even looked at me. He never even looked at me!"

"It was something important," Ginny said.

He clenched his fists at his side. "It's always something important. Always something more important to him than I am. It's because I look like her."

"Like who?"

"My mother. I've seen pictures." Mike shook with barely suppressed rage. "It's all fun and games with him - camping out under our cloaks at the World Cup and charming muggle artifacts, but then he'll catch me in a certain light or I'll say something the way she used to and it's all over. He throws himself into his work and forgets that he has a son at home."

Ginny put her hand on his arm and subtly cast a calming charm, but Mike was beyond help. His voice trembled in fury and resentment when he said, "Mundungus only has room in his heart to love one person, and she died sixteen years ago. For the past two years, two years, Gin, I've stood by and watched him accept suicide mission after suicide mission. This is only the latest one. By some lucky fluke he keeps coming back, but someday he's not going to and - "

"That's not true," Ginny interrupted. "It isn't true, Mike. Because of you, Dumbledore would never send your father on a suicide mission."

"Dumbledore has an operative who's loyal to the light side and willing to do just about anything to join his dead wife. You think he doesn't know that? Mundungus is ideal; a man with nothing to lose, and Dumbledore takes advantage of that every chance he gets. Because he used to be a Gryffindor none of you can see that he's anything less than a saint, but he's fighting a losing battle and he's using every weapon at his disposal to bring You-Know-Who down. Even at the expense of my family."

"He's not like that," Ginny said firmly. "He just isn't."

Mike laughed harshly. "You don't think so? He's been jerking Potter around like a puppet on a string for the past seven years. Everybody sees it but the Gryffindors. He's grasping at straws and he's desperate. The moment he saw that channeling Mundungus's desire to die would serve his precious cause he didn't hesitate because the ends justify the means for him when it comes to winning this war with You-Know-Who. Two years I've lived with this. Well I won't put up with it anymore. They can all go to hell."

"Mike," Ginny began, but he jerked away.

"I have to be alone right now. I can't...I just have to be alone." He turned on his heel and ran from the entrance hall.

Ginny stared after him. "What happened?" Harry asked from behind her.

She spun around. "Alastor Moody is dead. They killed him." Ginny felt strangely detached and unreal, as though she was watching herself in a movie.

Harry's mouth tightened. "You're sure?"

"I saw them say it. I mean, I could see what they were saying."

"He killed Moody because he's looking for you," Harry said flatly. "You need to know so you can stay safe."

Ginny remembered the dream last month, when the Death Eaters tortured Moody and tried to force a name out of him. Her name, although she hadn't realized it at the time. It made sense; Harry's scar connected him with Voldemort and the link connected her to Harry. No wonder she had a dream about the Dark Lord. "What do we do?"

"We go back into the Great Hall," he said, "where you'll be surrounded by lots and lots of people. And you're not leaving my sight until Dumbledore is back in this castle."

"I have to sleep in the hospital wing tonight," she reminded him.

"Then I will too, but you're not to go anywhere without me."

Ginny suddenly felt very tired. "You can't just issue orders, Harry. You're not my father."

His face was granite. "No, I'm your protector."