Harry Potter and the Unknown Power

"Hogsmeade weekend! I need to get a few things for my parents, would you mind going into the curio shop with me? I'm not going to leave it to the last minute like I did last year," said Hermione, she said, sitting on Ron's bed, waiting as Ron and Harry finished tying their shoes and sorting out their moneybags. Crookshanks curled himself on the foot of the bed, enjoying that patch of weak sunlight streaming from the window, purring loudly as she combed her fingers through his thick orange fur.

"Of course, I need to get something for Mum, and Harry said something about needing to get something, too. The curio shop is as good a place as any," said Ron, rummaging through his trunk for his gloves, and his moneybag. Harry pulled his heaviest black cloak on, fastening the silver leaf pin snugly under his chin, his warmest gloves and his House scarf. The wind was particularly bitter today. Hagrid was expecting snow any day. The walk to the village was long, because of the wind, he and Ron kept Hermione firmly between them after a hard gust nearly took her off her feet.

"Th-th-three B-b-broomsticks, f-f-first?" Ron chattered. The others followed him into the cozy pub where many of the students had gathered. Harry waved back at the Creevey brothers who were now enjoying some attention from two pretty blonde third year witches. Dennis and Colin had been very excited by being chosen to play on the House team; they were reveling in the extra notoriety that it brought them.

Harry walked up to the shining bar and ordered three mugs of butterbeer, extra hot. He set the foaming mugs down in front of Ron and Hermione and sat down. He wrapped his hands around the mug and just let the heat soak into him. Ron sipped at his drink and sighed, then noticed Neville waving at him.

"I'll be back, Neville needs something," he said.

Malfoy sidled over with a smirking expression, "I told you, Potter, I told you that Father would escape. The Dark Lord got him out and now it's just a question of time. I told you that you needed help choosing your friends. If you had taken my hand that day, none of this would have happened. Did you know that the Dark Lord wanted you to join him once? The offer still stands, Potter, it looks as though you have been given a second chance." He seemed very pleased at being the one chosen to extend this offer to Harry; his expression had taken on a reverential attitude.

"Yeah, he asked me when I was eleven, I turned him down then, I'm turning him down today, and I will turn him down when I'm ninety, Malfoy. I'm not interested in your threats, or your father's; I have much bigger problems, and more important people to worry about. Why don't you just leave me alone? You haven't beaten me, ever, and you aren't likely to in the future. Surely, it's humiliating enough to have me beat you on the pitch every year, but for you to come looking for trouble? I'd say you were a glutton for punishment, Malfoy," said Harry, waving him off, dismissing him.

"Turning him down just shows me what a fool you are. Later, Potter, later," Malfoy promised, his pale face flushing with anger, while Harry just looked bored. "Your Mudblood and blood traitor friends won't always be around to protect you."

Harry immediately jumped to his feet, and speaking in a low, harsh tone, "Malfoy, you've got to the count of three to make yourself scarce, or I will hex you in a thousand ways you can't even begin to imagine. I promise you that even St. Mungo's won't be able to sort you out. One...." He watched in satisfaction as Malfoy sneered at him, then turned on his heel and stalked off, presumably in search of Crabbe and Goyle.

"So, who are you buying a gift for, Harry?" asked Hermione quietly changing the subject, "I won't tell, besides, I think I know that it's for a certain red haired Chaser."

Harry ran his hand through his hair, and heaved a great sigh, watching Malfoy retreat. He sat down and blushed, "I got something out of my vault this summer, I didn't even really know why, it just seemed like the right thing to do, it's not quite the right thing to give her, at least not yet, and so I just want to get her something small, but meaningful. She is a good friend. I'm kind of mixed up about her, you know, I don't want to scare her off. I'm not sure what to feel, so I'm happy to just be friends with her for now."

Hermione nodded in understanding, "Sometimes, the best relationships turn out from good friendships."

Harry smiled, "Yeah, but only if one of the friends gets their act together."

Ron sat down, "Neville wants us to save our extra shopping bags, he has an idea for the green house. I told him we would. So what are we talking about?"

"Friends, friendships, and relationships," answered Hermione, giving him a gimlet look.

Ron's ears flushed and he took a deep swig of his butterbeer, nearly choking from the heat. "Harry, you aren't...not with...Hermione, you're not...not with...? You bloody prat!" He lunged across the table and before Harry could react, Ron's fist connected with the side of Harry's face, knocking Harry's glasses off, and sending Harry to the floor in a crumple of robes unconscious.

***

It was dark, and though he couldn't tell for certain, he thought he was in the Forbidden Forest again. He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, and waited for the Shadow.

"I'm here, Harry, tonight we're going to Little Whinging. Take my hand."

Harry landed on the sidewalk just outside Number Four, Privet Drive. "This is my aunt's house. But why is it purple?"

"That is the color of your mother's magic. It protects the house while you live here. The simplest thing to call it is her love for you. The protection isn't a complex spell, nor is it arcane, but it is ancient. Her sacrifice was selfless and absolute. She wanted you to live with everything she had in her, and so you did. But, more importantly, I want you to look here."

Harry peered at a form on the garden wall, it was a small tabby cat with square markings around its eyes. The cat was staring through the window, watching the family eating its dinner. This was one of the quieter moments, Harry realized, they were all eating together, and Dudley was mostly behaving himself. "Professor McGonagall?"

"Oh, yes. Check here, too." The scene melted away and now the air was bright, and he could hear children's laughter on the street, Little Harry was sitting on the stoop and a neighbor's child came over to play holding a shiny red ball. He looked close to Harry's age, maybe a bit younger.

"I remember that, Dudley took his ball later, but at the time, I remember thinking how nice it was to have a friend," said Harry.

"Look." Again the scene melted away and Harry watched an old man walking his dog across the street, more than once, the old man stopped to peer into the lacy curtains at Number Four. Harry thought he recognized Albus Dumbledore in the Muggle clothes.

"You have never been alone. Someone was always watching. Remus came, too,
said the Shadow, waving a hand at the neat square house. Harry watched as Little Harry sat quietly under a tree reading a book and Remus watched him from the bench across the street at the play park. "Petunia would let him see you in the beginning, but Remus had to travel further and further for work, and your Aunt Petunia was worried you would remember what you were. But still he came, every chance he got and watched you. Even when there were no secret visitors, your mother's love was always with you. Remember this, when you feel like you're alone, and helpless. That is when love is most keenly felt. It's within you, Harry." Harry found himself alone, but oddly, at peace, left with just the faintest scent of vanilla in the air.

***

"I'm sorry, Harry. I just got so angry. I thought you and Hermione...well, I thought that she and you...I love that girl, you know. Of course, you know, I told you this summer, and you wouldn't ever do that to a mate, would you? Not Harry Bloody Potter. But Ronald Bloody Weasley seems to have no problems at all bollixing this whole thing up. I reckon if you were awake, you'd-"

"Tell you to get off your bloody arse, and go tell her," croaked Harry. Damn! In the infirmary again! This whole ward will be dedicated to me, just dedicating a bed isn't enough with how often I find myself in here!

"Harry! You're awake! I'm so sorry, Harry, the whole family sent me Howlers, even Charlie, and everyone says I ought to let you deck me. I agree, too. When you're better, I'll let you, I swear! You don't even have to give me a warning!"

"Now, now, Mr. Weasley, I'm sure that won't be necessary," Professor Dumbledore had let himself in very quietly, startling both boys, "Mr. Weasley, why don't you fetch Miss Granger, and your sister, I'm sure they're very interested in Mr. Potter's condition. Mr. Potter, once you're well, I would like for you to come visit me in my office, no rush, I'm sure Poppy will want to give you the once over a few times," he said, with his eyes twinkling. "Is there anything you would like to tell me, Harry?" he asked, his expression becoming grave.

Harry thought about the dreams with the Shadow, and the messages of love. He thought about his friends and their unconditional support, "No, sir, but if I do, I will come find you." He couldn't explain exactly why he chose not to tell Dumbledore at that moment, but he knew he didn't want to, it seemed too personal. He watched Dumbledore as he left the infirmary, nearly bumping into his friends, as though something were weighing heavily on his mind.

Hermione, Ginny and Ron came and sat on the edge of his bed, he held Ginny and Hermione's hand, and Ron completed the circle by holding their other hands. He told them about the dream, and the message the Shadow had given him. "What is odd is that I smelled vanilla. I really smelled it. And the only person I know who has that scent was my mother. I think the Shadow might be her, but I don't understand how that could be, because wouldn't she tell me who she was?"

"Unless she can't, Harry. There might be rules, like she can only see you if she doesn't tell you who she is. Or it might not be her at all; maybe your mind connects your mother to love so deeply that when you think of it, subconsciously you smell vanilla. Or the house elves are using it for tonight's pudding," said Ginny, with a mischievous grin.

Hermione said, "A lot of therapists think that memory is most closely associated with smell. It can be a powerful trigger. When I was little, I used to hide behind my mother's cedar chest, even now, when I smell cedar I'm instantly four years old, hiding behind it. I'm going to keep doing research on this Shadow. Have you talked to Professor Dumbledore, yet?"

"No, for some reason it feels like I shouldn't, though I suppose I will eventually."

"Let's just hope this Shadow isn't just triggered by Harry's craving for vanilla ice cream or something," quipped Ron.

***

After much fuss and deliberation, Madame Pomfrey released Harry from the infirmary, as he left she was muttering something under her breath about redheads and fierce tempers. He slid into his seat in the Great Hall and waited, knowing that the Hall would soon be full and noisy, and that dinner was just a few minutes away. He leaned back and looked at the ceiling. There were enchanted snowflakes falling from the sky, disappearing just above his head. The sky looked cold and grey and the clouds were moving faster, he could tell it was going to whip up a real blow.

He caught sight of his friends at the entrance, "Maybe there will be enough snow for a snowball fight after class tomorrow, eh, Harry?" asked Ron.

"Sounds like fun," he answered.

"Honestly, though it might be a good excuse for you to take Ron up on his offer of letting you hit him back. I still can't believe that you punched him, Ron," said Hermione stiffly.

"Come on, Hermione, doesn't it tell you anything about how I feel about you? Besides, I won't ever hit Harry again and he knows it. And I already said I was sorry. And yes, I'm still going to let him hit me back. Won't that make you feel better?"

"No, he is my best friend, too. What're you going to do next? Punch Neville the next time I help him in Potions?"

"No, Neville is hardly a threat, no offense, Neville. Besides he is pretty wrapped up in Luna to notice, you know."

"Neville is a good hearted, decent chap and if I wanted to date him, no offense Luna, then there wouldn't be much you could do to stop me, would there? Unless you punch him out."

"Hermione, I'm not going to punch out anyone, especially not Neville. He is my mate."

"I thought Harry was your mate, too? But you didn't seem to mind punching him."

"Harry's different, he is like my brother, and yes, if I thought my brothers were hitting on you, then yes, I would punch them, too. But I would expect them to punch me, if I started getting moony over their girls."

"But we haven't discussed anything like that. I'm not your girl," Hermione was practically shouting, she stood from the table, grabbed her bag and stomped towards the Tower.

"You put a foot in it this time, chap," said Harry. "But now you know why she has been so odd around you."

"Why? Because I haven't formally asked her out? We snog, and we talk. It's the same thing, isn't it?"

"Honestly," said Ginny in an uncanny imitation of Hermione's exasperated tones, "She wants to hear it, brother mine. Girls are funny like that. They like reassurances. I'd go up after her, if I were you, unless you want the other Gryffindor boys to start speculating on our Hermione." Ron glanced up the table and sure enough, Seamus' eyes were following Hermione out the door. Ron glared at him fiercely, and then shot to his feet and sprinted the length of the Hall, tearing after a bushy haired girl with a large book bag.

"What a prat," commented Ginny dryly, "Still, he is an awful sweet prat," she said quietly.

Harry remembered that he needed to see the Headmaster, now that he had been released from the infirmary, "I have to go see Dumbledore, erm, I don't suppose you want to come with me?"

Ginny, to her credit, didn't blush, or look at him oddly, she simply stood, and said, "Lay on, Macbeth."

It was Harry who cocked an eyebrow, "Shakespeare? I didn't know you read Muggle literature."

"Muggle? Where do you think he got that bit about the witches, Harry?" she said smiling.

First, Metallica, now Shakespeare? Harry shook his head and led the way to Dumbledore's office.

"Come in, Harry. Good evening, Miss Weasley. Please sit; can I pour you a cup of tea?"

"No, thank you, Professor," said Harry.

"Harry, please tell me about the dreams you're having," said Dumbledore firmly.

Harry thought about lying to the Headmaster, but knew that he would see through it, "I dream about the Forest and a Shadow that leads me through my memories, and memories of other people. The Shadow has been teaching me about love. It says that it's my best chance against Voldemort."

"Indeed, Harry, but why haven't you mentioned this before," he asked, steepling his fingers under his chin.

Harry thought for a moment, "It just seems like a very personal thing, and something I wanted to keep private. I have let people know, but it's not something I choose to do, just something that happens when the time is right." And I still don't fully trust you. "Professor, the Shadow showed me instances where you, Professor McGonagall and Remus had come to check up on me."

"I see, yes, we did, Harry," said the Headmaster. He suddenly looked much like he did at the end of last term; old, tired and sad.

Harry felt anger bubble inside him, "You knew. You knew what it was like for me, then. The insults, the unfairness, the sleeping arrangements," he bit out, looking askance at Ginny. "You knew and you let it continue. You could have told them to treat me better, or to feed me more, and you never did. Why?"

"I cannot dictate what families do in their homes, Harry, though I know that this is no consolation to you. I knew, as I said before, that I was consigning you to ten long and lonely years, but you came through it with personal strength, and character."

Harry stood up, forgetting that Ginny was there, "But where do we draw the line, Professor? Where do we decide that having character is worth ten years sleeping in a cupboard? How much were the days without food worth? Did I adequately pay for the personal strength? Are the books even?" Harry's voice was getting louder and louder, and Dumbledore simply looked sadder and more tired. "Last summer when I went home, Mr. Weasley, Professor Moody and Remus told my relatives to take better care of me. It was a simple request, and they complied. It couldn't have been difficult for you to do that, could it?" Harry yanked the office door open, and was stopped as Dumbledore spoke.

"My door is open for you, Harry, at any time of the day or night. Don't hesitate to use it," said Dumbledore tiredly.

"Thank you, Professor," said Harry stiffly, into the open air of the corridor. He resisted the urge to slam the door shut, and carefully pulled it shut with a quiet click.

Harry and Ginny rode the spiral staircase back down to the ground floor, but instead of turning towards Gryffindor Tower, he turned to Ginny and said, "Ginny, would you mind going for a walk around the lake with me?"

"It's dark, and you know McGonagall won't like that, why don't we walk to the pitch instead?" she asked. Harry nodded and hefted his bag onto his shoulder. He followed her out of the castle and together they walked the length of the pitch.

"Harry, thank you."

"For what?"

"You trusted me enough to ask me to come along to the Headmaster's office, and you said all those things about your relatives in front of me. I knew they mistreated you, Harry," she said, narrowing her eyes dangerously, "but I didn't know it was that bad. I'm sorry. If I had known, I would have asked my father to say something to them after your first year."

"It's alright, Ginny, it can't be helped, and honestly, I didn't really want anyone to know. I didn't want anyone feeling sorry for me. I was...I am angry with Dumbledore for putting me in the situation, but I am trying to get past it. I think that is part of what the Shadow wants me to do.

"I need to tell you something, Ginny, those dreams, with the Shadow, afterwards, I feel like I need to tell the people around me how I feel about them. When I do that, then I feel like parts of me are coming out of the dark and into sunlight. Does that make any sense? I feel warmer and just better somehow. Like everything will turn out alright," he turned to her and took one of her cool hands into his, "I love you, Ginny. At first, I thought it was because you were the little sister I never had, that I could protect you and keep you safe, but I realized this summer that you're definitely not my sister, and in the Department of Mysteries, I realized that I can't keep you safe, but I don't have to. You can fight for yourself very well on your own, and you covered my back, too. You were the only one I felt comfortable talking to after what happened...with Sirius. I've come to depend on your friendship. I guess what I'm trying to say, Ginny, is we make a good team."

Ginny smiled faintly, as though trying to absorb everything he was saying, "A team?"

"A good one, the best kind. I care very much about you, and I would like to try being more than just your friend," he said simply. He watched her bright brown eyes widen as his words sunk in, he could feel himself leaning in to her, and closed his eyes just as their lips met.

*#*

They walked in to the castle nearly an hour later. He had sat with his back against the stadium wall with Ginny wrapped in his arms, talking about everything, and anything that came to their minds. Their first kiss had been wonderful, and Harry finally felt something click into place when their lips met. The sensation was overwhelming, and he couldn't begin to describe how happy he was right at that moment.

When they reached the portrait hole, he kissed her softly for the second time that evening, before giving the password. He let her go first, and watched as she went straight up to her room. Hermione caught his eye and smiled, before following Ginny. Harry squared his shoulders and walked over to the corner of the common room where Ron, Seamus and Neville were sitting.

Ron was engrossed in a game of chess with Seamus, who was losing badly. "Weasley, I don't know what you did, but you can't be winning already!"

"What's happening?" asked Harry, he stood by the window, fidgeting nervously with the drapery tassle.

"Ron started out with only half his set, Seamus started out with all his pieces, and now Seamus has one castle, his King and his Queen," whispered Neville, "And Ron only lost two pawns, and a bishop."

Harry looked down at the chessboard and sure enough all of Seamus' pieces were pleading with him to forfeit the game. He waited until Ron had dispatched them all and shook hands with Seamus.

"I'm going to bed, the man is a bloody lunatic, but he's brilliant, be forewarned you lot!" he called. Neville soon went to bed afterwards, and the common room had cleared.

"Harry, you don't want to play, do you?" yawned Ron, "because I'm knackered and wouldn't mind turning in myself."

"Actually, I want to talk to you, about Ginny," said Harry grimly. He remembered all too well the ruckus Ron created when Ginny started going out with Michael Corner and Dean Thomas. He braced himself for another punch when Ron whirled around with a look of pure disbelief on his face.

"What about Ginny?"

"Well, I like her, I respect her, she is brilliant on a broomstick and with a wand," said Harry, trying to gauge Ron's reactions. His face was inscrutable.

"Spit it out, Potter."

"Alright, I care about her. A lot. And I kissed her tonight. There, are you happy?" Harry fumed.

Ron walked up to Harry and he was struck by how much taller Ron was then he, and how much broader, too, Harry stood his ground, anticipating waking up in the hospital wing, Ron looked down at Harry and raised his hand, "It's about bloody time!" clapping Harry on the shoulder, nearly sending him to his knees, "Of course, if you hurt her, I will have to kill you, no hard feelings, just letting you know. The twins win the bet, though."

"Bet?" asked Harry stupidly.

"Yeah, they figured you and Ginny would get together before Christmas this year. Charlie said not until next year, and Bill said not until Ginny graduated from school. Of course, Mum was hoping you two would be together over summer, and Dad said not till you're out of the Auror programme!"

"What was your bet?"

"Summer holidays, after this term," smiled Ron.

"So you're okay with this?" asked Harry still wary.

"'Course, Harry, you're practically my brother, and Ginny has been over the moon about you since she was ten! And it's not the Boy-Who-Lived nonsense; she is crazy about Just Harry. The family is going to be pleased, too. Though, the money is still on who gives who a rougher go of it! Come on, I'm worn out," Ron led Harry up the stairs to his dormitory. Harry was in bed and nearly asleep when he heard Ron whisper, "I just don't want to see you snogging her all over the castle."

Harry was astonished as he lay down in his bed, but he smiled, "So, Hermione?"

Ron sighed, rolling over in bed to face Harry, "She is going to marry me one day."

"Marry you? You didn't propose, did you?"

"Me? No, I caught up to her, going to the library, if you can imagine that. Someday that is going to be known as the Granger library, you know. I've Seen it. But I caught up to her, and she was crying, and I just can't handle it when she cries, part of me just wants to give her anything just so she will stop. She hugged me and called me an idiot, and then told me that I was going to marry her one day. She is right, you know, I will. So I asked her to be my girlfriend, and she said yes. We're going to Hogsmeade together."

"You always go together."

"Yes, but this time, she will let me hold her hand."

*#*

Hermione smiled knowingly as she watched Ginny pace around her room, "And then he kissed me again just before we came inside. It was wonderful, like caramel, or something that is smoky and sweet, but much, much better! Hermione, what am I going to do? Ron is going to kill Harry, I just know it. And if he doesn't, then the rest of my brothers will."

"I don't know about your other brothers, but I think Ron will be fine. Without breaking a confidence, Ginny, I can tell you that he has been going on and on about Harry and you for quite some time. Not necessarily in the same statement, just kind of hinting around that he'd like for Harry to be a real member of the Weasley family."

Ginny sat with her mouth agape, "I'm not talking about marrying Harry! For Merlin's sake, I'm only fifteen!"

"Well, Harry doesn't give his heart lightly, while I don't think he will propose before you graduate, I don't think there is another girl for him. He needs a girl who won't be in awe of him, someone who will bring him out of his moody funks, and someone who is powerful in her own right. I can't think of a better person than you, especially since you want to be a Healer and not an Auror -not that you couldn't be, if you wanted it.

"But, you're going to need to decide if this is what you want. If you need time, space, or the chance to snog other boys, you're going to have to let him know that. I don't think he will like it, but I don't think he will argue with you either. I think he would wait for you, honestly. In the end, it will be just the two of you. I'm not a Divination student, and I don't believe in most of that rubbish, but I have a good feeling about the two of you. I think it's meant to be."

"What about Ron? Are you two meant to be? Do you think you need time to snog other boys?"

Hermione sat quietly, "I think I fell for your brother the first time I met him and he had dirt on his nose, on the train. I don't think any other boy would be interested in what I have to say, or would put up with Little Miss Perfect as easily as your brother, either. We're so different, but we've been through so much that I miss him when he isn't around. It's like part of me is missing. Mum thinks I'm far too young to get involved with just one boy and thinks that I should date as many boys as I can."

"Mum says I should date more than just one boy, too, though really I think she would be happy if I just quit now and married Harry tomorrow."

"I think it may have something to do with magic, Ginny, though I need to check a book or two. The Wizarding world is so closed off, and we dress and go about our lives much like Muggles did in the 19^th century. We write with quills, and we go about in carriages, and wear long robes, and old fashioned clothes in polite society, we don't have much by way of machinery or technology, like light bulbs, we use candles. I think that it spills over into affairs of the heart, too. People back then courted, and then settled down, and they generally didn't court very many people, just one or maybe two. I think that's why I feel so comfortable with the idea of spending my life with Ron Weasley."

"I'm glad you're comfortable, it could get rough if you weren't!"

Hermione laughed, "It makes it easier in other respects, too. Ron has never pushed me for any, erm, physical favors. Mum was telling me this summer about waiting for the right time, and the right person, she told me all about birth control and protection, too. But we don't really go into all that here. It's just accepted that you wait until you are married."

"Some do, but most don't -times do change, even in our world. Some just wait until they're betrothed, like Mum and Dad" said Ginny, "But it's not really as taboo as everyone thinks it is, I just don't think we talk about it as much as the Muggles do. I think Angelina is going to move in with Fred, but Alicia said she wants to wait until she and George get married. Angelina was so happy that Fred proposed that I don't think she cared!"

"See? In Muggle communities it isn't untoward to move in with a man after dating for a few months. It's not untoward to sleep with him, either, even after just a date or two."

Ginny's eyes rounded in shock, "They do that? Without a guarantee?"

"That is what the birth control talk was for with my Mum. There is your guarantee."

Ginny thought for a moment, "We've birth control potions, too, but is that what Muggles think is acceptable?"

"Some do, others think more like we do."

"Hermione, Harry was raised by Muggles."

Hermione cottoned on, "Ginny, I'm fairly certain that Harry isn't interested in you for that, I mean, you're lovely, of course, but I think Harry is more interested in your heart. He said he loved you, right? Then, let's just take this one step at a time, besides, you have six brothers, I doubt that Harry is going to forget that!"