The Final Reckoning

Chapter Sixteen: The Power of an Empath

Harry took a deep breath as he stepped off the Hogwarts Express. Ron had said 'Welcome home, mate.' And Ron was right. Harry was home.

He grinned. He was in a better mood now, all things considered. Thanks to Daphne.

Daphne Greengrass. What a name. What a girl. She was gorgeous, she was nice, she was smart. And she was interested in him.

He replayed in his mind the hour and a half they'd spent together on the train and he couldn't help but grin stupidly.

They'd talked a lot. They'd been talking some since they met at Apparition training, of course, but they'd never really had an opportunity to talk by themselves. Harry hadn't wanted to leave, really, but he knew he couldn't very well spend the entire journey with her; it was his last beginning-of-term trip to Hogwarts, and he wanted to spend it with Ron and Hermione. And yet, when he'd told her he had to go, she'd looked disappointed, and he'd felt disappointed, and just when she said, 'I guess I'll see you around,' some words blurted from his mouth before he really knew what they were.

'Do you want go out sometime?'

And she'd smiled at him, shrugged her shoulders, and said, 'Yeah.'

'Great,' said Harry, and he seized upon the first idea he could think of. 'How about a picnic? There's this great spot on the grounds...we could go.'

'You'll arrange a picnic?' she'd said, her eyebrows lifting.

'I know some people in the kitchen,' said Harry, shrugging. 'They'll hook me up.'

'A picnic sounds lovely,' she'd said.

'This weekend?' Harry suggested, and he felt his voice weaken just slightly. 'Sunday? Half past twelve?'

'Okay,' she'd said. 'Sunday, half past twelve.' She licked her lips; she did that a lot, and it was very sexy and very distracting.

'Great,' said Harry again, letting out a breath. 'Er, well, I'll...see you later, I guess.'

'Bye,' she'd said softly.

'Bye,' he'd said. But neither of them moved for a moment. Harry's feet felt as though they were stuck to the floor of the compartment.

And suddenly, as if they were both hit by some charm, they moved toward one another and his mouth slid over hers, slowly and delicately. She'd moved closer and wrapped a hand round the back of his neck, and her fingers played with the fine hairs at his nape, making him shiver. Then she'd parted her lips and admitted his tongue, and his arms encircled her waist, and they kissed deeply and slowly for a good minute before she pulled back.

They held each other for a long moment; he could feel her breath on his face. She looked at him with her fascinating hazel eyes.

'That was lovely,' she said, her voice a bit breathy.

'Yeah,' he agreed.

'You should probably--' she'd said, her voice hitched.

'I should probably--' he'd said, panting slightly.

'Yeah,' she'd said.

'Right,' he'd said.

'See you,' she'd said.

'Yeah,' said Harry, and he backed out of the compartment. He grinned. 'Bye.'

'Bye.'

And he'd had to force himself not to let out a whoop as he headed toward the back of the train. Along the way he stopped in a loo and splashed cold water on his face to calm himself down. It had been ages since he'd kissed a girl. Okay, not ages, but long enough. He'd forgotten how incredible it felt.

He hadn't mentioned it to Ron and Hermione. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone. For some reason, Harry just didn't want to. That moment was his moment, his and Daphne's, and he wanted it to stay that way. At least for a little while.

And now here he was, waiting for the thestral-pulled carriages to arrive, a very silly grin plastered on his face.

Back in business, Potter. No more lonely horny thing for you. No sir. A gorgeous, intelligent girl, no, woman, is interested in you. Susan who?

'Hey,' said a familiar female voice.

Harry felt his stomach do a small lurch.

'Hey, Ginny, where'd you get off to?' he asked, as casually as he could. He tried to ignore how pretty she looked in her school uniform.

Wait a minute, don't look at her! You only snogged Daphne a few hours ago, you can't be checking out Ginny!

Dear god, her robes don't do much to hide anything, do they?

Stop it!

'Colin,' said Ginny. 'He's been having...well, anyway, he needed to talk to me about some things.'

'Oh,' said Harry. 'He's okay now, I take it?'

Did you use your power to make him feel better?

'I guess so,' said Ginny. 'And no, I didn't use...that...to help him.'

'I never said you did,' said Harry quickly, blushing.

'Okay,' said Ginny, still smiling. He wished she wouldn't. Not only because she looked so very pretty when she did, but because it only made him feel guiltier when he wondered about how often she used her powers and for whom. About Draco, and what he'd demanded of her...

'First years! This way, please!'

Harry and Ginny both started at the sound of a familiar voice. Familiar, but not Hagrid's. Professor Grubbly-Plank was waving her arms and gesturing for all the first years to follow her to the boats.

'What's she doing here?' Harry asked, irritated. 'Where's Hagrid?'

'Dunno,' said Ginny, looking concerned. 'Maybe...maybe he's on another mission, or something.'

'Maybe,' said Harry doubtfully, and his happy feelings continued to deflate.

'Let's get a carriage, yeah?' said Ginny, nodding, and Harry followed after her toward a thestral-led carriage. It was empty. They climbed in and settled themselves, but the carriage didn't move yet -- it wouldn't move until at least two more students climbed in.

'Who is she?' Ginny asked suddenly.

'What?' said Harry, confused.

'That blonde girl I saw you talking to,' said Ginny. 'The Slytherin.'

'Oh,' said Harry, flushing slightly and looking down at his shoes. 'That's Daphne. Daphne Greengrass.'

'Daphne Greengrass?' said Ginny, looking amused. 'That's quite a name. Not really a Slytherin kind of name, is it?'

'I guess not,' said Harry, shrugging. 'She's actually...quite nice. For a Slytherin, I mean. I met her at Apparition training.'

Oh yeah, and a while ago I had my tongue in her mouth and it was brilliant.

Yeah, so why do you feel...guilty all of a sudden?

Ginny stiffened at this. 'Oh,' she said. 'You...you never mentioned her.'

'Right,' said Harry, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. 'I guess...I must have forgotten.'

'Right,' said Ginny, her voice edged with doubt.

And once again, there was a painfully awkward silence between them.

Harry felt confused, irritated and ridiculous all at once.

He was confused, because ever since that night in the kitchen, when they'd almost kissed, things hadn't been quite the same with Ginny. She'd said not one word about it and had behaved as if it had never happened, to the point that, more than once, Harry actually wondered if it had.

He was irritated, with her and with himself. With her, for acting...good lord, could she be jealous that he'd been talking to Daphne? What for? What right did she have? And yet, he was irritated with himself, too, because he'd reacted a bit jealously when she'd gone off with Colin.

She left me alone with Neville and Luna while Ron and Hermione were running that meeting and who knows what else.

That's not the only reason you got upset and you know it. You wanted her to spend time with you.

Yeah, but you found somebody else to keep you company, didn't you? Somebody just as smart and pretty and nice and you forgot all about Ginny.

The feeling of ridiculousness overtook him. How could he feel so strongly attracted to Ginny after what had happened with Daphne? Could he really be attracted to two girls at the same time?

Not just two girls, Potter. Three.

And then Harry remembered Susan. He'd forgotten all about her until that moment.

He'd seen her on the train; he hadn't mentioned it to anyone because he didn't want to see the expressions of concern on Ron's and Hermione's faces. But Harry had seen Susan. She was with Terry, of course (Harry was furious to see that for a guy who'd splinched off his prick, Terry didn't look remotely traumatized). She and Harry exchanged a few polite words before Harry hurried away, not wanting to spend another minute in her presence. It was a little while after that, that Ginny had left to be with Colin somewhere, and he, Harry, had found Daphne. Snogging Daphne had put Susan entirely out of his mind.

You still miss Susan. Admit it. You haven't thrown away that photograph.

I haven't looked at it in a week, either.

If she came back, if she asked you to take her back, would you?

I don't know! I miss her, I miss what we had.

Who's to say you can't have that with someone else?

Who, Daphne? Ginny? I snog one great girl and then I turn around and want to snog another one. Hardly a recipe for monogamy, is it? Maybe I'm still in the throes of the lonely horny thing after all...

Harry might have brooded even further on his confusion about women, but at that moment Parvati Patil climbed into the coach, along with Dean Thomas.

'Hi, Harry!' said Parvati, smiling. 'Ginny. Mind if we join you?'

'Not at all,' said Ginny, smiling back, but the smile she gave Dean was distinctly cooler.

'Hey, Gin,' said Dean, and Harry felt a flash of irritation. That he could talk to her like that, as if he hadn't dumped her and broken her heart and treated her like dirt...

'Good summer, Harry?' said Parvati, and she smiled at him, showing very white, even teeth. Her thick dark hair was loose and hanging over one shoulder, and her dark, almost liquid brown eyes were sparkling.

Bloody hell, she really is gorgeous. I can't believe I was mooning over Cho when I had her as a date in fourth year.

Hello?! Daphne Greengrass, girl you snogged on the train! Stop checking out Parvati!

'Not terrible,' said Harry.

'Did you hear about Malfoy?' said Dean. 'He lost his prefect badge.'

'Oh, we know all about Malfoy, Dean,' said Ginny coolly.

Dean gave her an appraising look, and Harry bristled.

'Good summer for you, Gin?' Dean asked. For some reason Harry hated the idea of Dean calling her 'Gin'.

'Not bad,' said Ginny, smiling.

'You look great,' he said.

'Thanks,' said Ginny, an edge to her voice. Harry scowled as he gripped the cushions of his seat, and the carriage suddenly gave a lurch. They were on their way to the castle.

'So, Harry,' said Parvati, 'everyone's heard about...well, last term. What you did.'

'Really?' said Harry, and he was feeling so cranky now he could feel himself gritting his teeth.

'Yes,' said Parvati, and her voice was suddenly low and smooth. 'I just want you to know, I think you're incredibly brave.'

Ginny gave a snort that turned quickly into a cough, and Harry glanced quickly at her; she was looking out the window.

'Oh, thanks,' Harry said, remembering to address Parvati.

'I heard about Susan, too,' said Parvati, in a sympathetic voice, and she put her hand on his knee. 'For what it's worth, I think it's her loss, not yours.'

Harry gaped at her for a moment. Good god. Was she flirting with him?

Her hand was still on his knee and he noticed that her thumb was moving ever so slightly over his kneecap.

'Th-thanks, Parvati,' said Harry, his voice a bit unsteady.

'You're welcome,' she said, smiling, and she removed her hand from his knee. Harry pursed his lips, hard, and forced out a smile. His eyes darted to Ginny again; hers were fixed on Parvati, and they looked cold. In the next instant Ginny caught Harry looking at her, and her own eyes moved quickly back to the window.

Harry felt his heart pounding. This wasn't happening. Whatever 'this' was. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with women? The girl he'd loved had dumped him. His best mate's sister had almost put the moves on him in a kitchen one night, and then she spent the rest of the time acting like it hadn't happened. Oh yeah, and she'd gone and developed one of the most gorgeous bodies he'd ever seen, right under his bloody nose, and he'd spent the entire summer with his eyes magnetically drawn to her incredible bosom as though they had a flashing sign on them saying 'Check Us Out!' Then he'd met a beautiful Slytherin girl -- a Slytherin girl -- and they'd had a lovely conversation on the train that ended in a clinch. And Parvati Patil had just rubbed his knee.

On top of this, Dean was stealing looks at Ginny -- very wolfish looks -- and it pissed Harry off no end. When they reached the castle at last, it was not a moment too soon.

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

The moment Harry sat down in the Great Hall, he noticed it.

'Where is everyone?' he asked. 'The students? Looks like we're only half full this year.'

'I suppose a lot of students aren't coming back this year, are they?' said Hermione. 'After what happened with the attack and everything.'

'Where's Hagrid?' Ron hissed. 'He wasn't there to meet the first years; it was Grubbly-Plank.'

'Dunno,' said Harry gloomily. 'Off on another mission, I guess.'

'Dumbledore doesn't look so good,' Seamus muttered, nodding up to the staff table.

Harry gazed at the Headmaster and felt his stomach clench. Seamus was right; Dumbledore did look quite bad. His skin looked somewhat ashen and was dry as paper; the bags under his eyes were prominent, and his eyes, normally so bright and sparkling, looked dull, bloodshot and tired. Even his hair and beard, normally so brilliantly silver-white, looked flat. The brightness of his purple robes only served to highlight how old and fatigued he looked.

'Could he be ill?' Hermione wondered, sounding worried.

'Dunno,' said Ron. 'Snape doesn't look much better. Is it just me or does it look like none of the teachers have been sleeping much?'

Harry studied the teachers one by one; almost to a one, they all sported tired eyes, dark circles, sallow or ashen skin. Even Professor Flitwick, normally so full of energy, seemed sapped of it.

It was the battle last term. They haven't fully recovered from it yet. And the Order...they're all working for the Order on top of everything else. No wonder they're knackered.

'Does anyone know about the Dark Arts teacher?' Neville asked.

'Only that whoever it is, is supposed to arrive sometime after the Sorting,' said Hermione.

'I wish Professor Weasley could have come back,' said Lavender Brown, sighing. 'He was the best teacher we've ever had.'

'Right,' said Seamus. 'And the fact that he was good-looking had nothing to do with it.'

'I dunno,' said Parvati. 'I think Harry's been a very good teacher for us.'

And she gave him a bright smile.

Oh, boy.

It was at that moment that the doors to the Great Hall opened, and Professors McGonagall and Grubbly-Plank came in, escorting a group of timid and very small first years.

Was I that small when I was a first year? Harry wondered.

Professor Grubbly-Plank took her seat -- or rather, Hagrid's seat -- as Professor McGonagall announced the start of the Sorting. McGonagall, at least, looked somewhat better than she had when Harry had last seen her. She had some colour in her cheeks and her eyes were bright and focused, and she no longer moved in the tentative way she had only a few weeks ago. But she was thinner than usual (and that was saying something), and like Dumbledore, she looked very old.

The Sorting began. Harry was starving, and once again he wished the stupid Sorting wouldn't take so long. Every trace of joy he'd felt at kissing Daphne was faded. Now there was only confusion and frustration. Ginny appeared to be irritated with him; she's said very little to him since they arrived in the Great Hall. Parvati kept casting him furtive looks and smiles; Harry couldn't tell if she was flirting with him or not, but if she was, he realized he didn't mind in the least. Which only made him more confused.

Parvati. Ginny. Daphne. I'm a mess. I'm a horny bastard. Why do girls have to be pretty and soft and tempting? Why can't they all be plain and uninteresting? More to the point, why do they all have to look so good at the same time?

And then his eyes caught Daphne's, and she smiled, and he remembered how her mouth had tasted (like strawberries), and he smiled back and felt a familiar pinching in his trousers. He glanced at Snape and the pinching stopped at once.

The Sorting ended, and Harry realized he hadn't heard a word of it; he couldn't have named a single Gryffindor first year if he'd tried. He only noticed that the current crop of first years was smaller in number than usual. It was then that Dumbledore stood up, very slowly. Harry grimaced. He couldn't remember ever seeing Dumbledore look this frail.

'Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!' he said, and the strength of his voice belied his delicate appearance. 'I'm sure you are all famished, so I won't bore you with announcements now. Tuck in!'

At that moment, food appeared on plates and platters, but Harry wasn't paying attention to that; he was watching Dumbledore as he sat down, painfully slow in his movements. What had happened to the old wizard over the summer? Granted, he'd looked somewhat the worse for wear at the end of term last year, but that had been understandable; he'd been hurt in a battle and spent some time in St. Mungo's. And yet, despite this, he'd seemed...okay at the End of Term Feast.

And hadn't he been running the Order? Hadn't Professor Lupin - Remus -- told Harry how often he'd been in contact with the Headmaster?

'You okay, Harry?' said Neville.

'What?' said Harry, blinking. 'Oh, fine.' He started eating at once, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

Halfway through pudding the doors to the Great Hall opened. At once everyone looked round. Harry saw a witch he'd never seen before stride in. His breath caught. She was tall and striking. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled off her face and partly hidden beneath a small black hat, and she was draped in long black robes. She had very pale blue, crystalline eyes and skin so alabaster and creamy it looked almost translucent, and seemed almost to shine like the surface of a pearl. Harry could see the tiny blue veins in her temples even as he sat twenty-five feet away from her. Her eyes, hair and lips -- which were full and pink and starkly sensual -- provided the only colour on her. There wasn't even a trace of colour in her cheeks, and she walked so smoothly she seemed to glide, as though her feet barely touched the floor. She looked almost ghostly, and yet there was no doubt she was a living thing, of flesh and blood. As she passed by the Gryffindor table Harry shivered.

She took a seat in the chair reserved for the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Snape glanced at the woman, but his eyes lacked the usual contempt for the person who so often took away the job he wanted for himself. Perhaps having recently been put near the top of Voldemort's hit list had caused Snape to refocus his priorities, perhaps even mellow out just a bit.

'That's the Dark Arts teacher?' Dean whispered.

'Nice,' said Seamus, eyeing the witch appreciatively.

'Oh, please,' said Lavender, rolling her eyes.

At that moment, Dumbledore stood again, and the Hall fell silent once more.

'I trust all of you have enjoyed the feast,' he said. 'Unfortunately it is time for me to make my annual announcements.

'First, the usual. The Forbidden Forest is entirely, completely, utterly and totally out of bounds to all students.

'Second, please with all haste consult the list of forbidden items on our caretaker's office door; Mr. Filch has added several items to the list this year.

'With that out of the way, I'd like to address some new items. Last term the school introduced new security measures in light of various events. Those measures are in place again this year. Students will be escorted to and from lessons by Aurors or teachers--whoever is available. We will have security trolls guarding the grounds at all times, and it is vital that students do not disturb them. Students are forbidden from wandering the corridors in the evenings, and must return to their common rooms, no later than seven p.m. for fourth years and below, and nine p.m. for fifth years and above.'

These announcements brought some quiet grumbling.

'That said,' Dumbledore said loudly, 'I am pleased to announce that Hogsmeade visits will take place for students fifth year and above, in the company of Auror security, and Quidditch matches will resume, under tight security. It is an unfortunate side-effect of the times that such security measures are necessary.'

Harry felt his shoulders sag slightly. He should be thrilled that Quidditch wouldn't be done away with, but part of him shuddered. The attack of Hogwarts had happened right after a Quidditch match. He wondered suddenly if he could ever fly over the pitch again without wondering if the grounds would suddenly fill with Death Eaters and Dementors.

'In happier news,' Dumbledore went on, 'I would like to introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Griselda Hopkirk.'

At this, the strawberry-haired witch stood up to the polite applause of the students and teachers. She nodded and smiled, but her lips stayed closed and the smile didn't reach her eyes. She sat down smoothly and her eyes moved over the room; Harry felt her eyes come to rest on him and he shuddered again, but forced himself to meet her eyes. She gave him the slightest nod, so small as to be almost imperceptible.

Hopkirk. The name sounded familiar.

'Hogwarts is grateful to have Professor Hopkirk join our staff this year,' Dumbledore said. 'She has extensive experience in defensive magic and I am quite confident that all of you will receive an exceptional education from her.'

More polite applause. Professor Hopkirk wasn't looking at Harry anymore, for which he was grateful. Something about her sent a chill through him. She was -- there was no other word for it -- eerie. He wondered where she had come from, and what her 'extensive experience in defensive magic' entailed.

'Professor Hopkirk, furthermore, has asked to lead D.A. meetings this year, which will take place on Wednesday evenings between the hours of seven p.m. and eight p.m. for fifth years and above. Younger students who wish to participate must receive permission from their Heads of Houses.

'There are two other introductions to make, of course, and that is this year's Head Boy and Girl.'

'Oh, no,' Ron muttered, and his ears turned pink.

'Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, please stand.'

Hermione stood up, beaming. Ron didn't move until Hermione grabbed him by the collar of his robes and tugged. His face had gone red and he smiled sheepishly as the crowd of students applauded politely. All except Draco Malfoy, who, Harry had just noticed, was sitting at the far end of the table. Though he was seated between his housemates, he looked distinctly alone, and totally bored by the proceedings.

Ron and Hermione sat down and Ron quickly took a swig of pumpkin juice, staring down at his now clean plate.

'Finally, I have one more announcement to make. This...is not exactly easy for me to say.'

At this, there was silence. Harry's eyes shot up to Dumbledore. The old Headmaster took a deep breath, appearing to steady himself.

'I have been Headmaster of this school for many, many years, and a teacher here before that, and in all that time I have taken great joy in watching students pass through this school, year after year, meeting the challenges and rewards of a magical education and moving on into the world to make their mark in it.'

He took another breath, and Harry felt his hands clench the table.

'The past few years at Hogwarts,' Dumbledore continued, 'have been...especially challenging. Not only for students, but for the staff as well. Last year, in particular, we faced a great tragedy that touched the lives of most of us here in this room.'

Harry let out a breath and his eyes skipped over to Daphne, who was watching Dumbledore with tear-filled eyes.

'I have...always sought,' said Dumbledore, 'to be the best Headmaster I could be and, I dare say, I am proud of what I have achieved. I am proud of what you all have achieved. But there comes a time when...every man realizes that he has done all he can, and that it is in the best interest of those he leads...to step aside.'

Harry looked up at Dumbledore again and felt his stomach plummet.

'I wish to announce my...formal retirement...as Headmaster of Hogwarts School,' Dumbledore went on, his voice shaking just slightly. 'The Board of Governors has accepted my decision, and my retirement is...effective as of tomorrow morning.'

Uproar. Harry barely heard the voices around him as Dumbledore's eyes met his. It couldn't be. Dumbledore couldn't...he mustn't...

Dumbledore gave Harry a sad smile, and in that moment, Harry felt liked he'd been punched in the stomach.

'Quiet, please,' Dumbledore called, lifting his arms. 'The Board of Governors, with my recommendation, has chosen to elect Professor McGonagall to fill the position of Headmistress. She has served in the position of Deputy Headmistress with distinction for some time now, and has already twice served as Acting Headmistress, and she has been a most trusted and capable colleague. Would you please bestow your congratulations on the Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Minerva McGonagall.'

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

Harry was only vaguely aware of walking to Gryffindor Tower. As students all about him chattered and whispered about Dumbledore's retirement, Harry could only dwell in a cone of shock. The pounding in his head was the only thing connecting him to what was happening around him.

Upon reaching the common room, Harry flopped into his favourite chair near the fireplace, and stared at the flames. Nobody approached him, and in the midst of the murmurs and drone of voices, Harry heard Ron and Hermione talking to the first years. He heard the clomping of feet on stairs as the younger Gryffindors headed upstairs to their dormitories, and saw, in his peripheral vision, Seamus, Dean, Lavender, Parvati, Neville and Ginny all take seats near him, by the fire.

Nobody spoke until the common room was empty of younger students.

'Fancy that about Dumbledore,' said Dean. 'Not that my parents would know or anything but...I get The Daily Prophet and there wasn't anything in there about this.'

'Was it a last minute decision, do you think?' said Lavender.

'I doubt it,' said Hermione, walking over to the sofa with Ron, where they both sat down. 'Maybe he dropped it on the Board of Governors at the last minute but...he must have been thinking about it all summer.'

'He looks so old, doesn't he?' said Parvati. 'And after what happened last year...no wonder he wants to call it quits.'

'He's not quitting,' said Ron at once. 'He's just...handing over the reins to McGonagall. He'll still be around. He's staying at the school, at any rate.'

'I can't believe Snape is Deputy Headmaster,' Seamus groaned. 'As if he didn't make our lives difficult enough.'

'Why not Flitwick or Sprout?' Ginny agreed. 'At least they're, I dunno, fair.'

'Stupid Board of Governors,' Seamus grumbled.

'Harry, are you okay?' Hermione asked suddenly. Harry's eyes snapped up and he looked at Hermione.

'I'm fine,' he said. 'Just...taking it all in, I guess.'

He felt the pounding in his head grow stronger. For a brief instant he wondered if his headache had something to do with Voldemort, but just as quickly he dismissed that idea. No, this was a perfectly ordinary, garden variety, throbbing headache.

'Well,' said Dean, stretching out his long legs across the coffee table, 'interesting start to the year, as always. How about the new Dark Arts teacher, eh? Nice looking bird, that one.'

'Excuse me, did you call her a "bird"?' said Hermione hotly. 'She is a professor, thank you.'

'Sorry,' said Dean, holding up his hands. 'Anyway, the new professor is quite good-looking.'

'Yeah,' said Neville, 'but, does anyone else think she's a bit...spooky?'

'Yeah,' said Harry at once. 'I do.'

'I noticed that, too,' said Parvati at once. 'She doesn't walk like a normal person, does she?'

'And when she walked past me, I got a chill,' said Lavender. 'It was creepy.'

'There's no colour in her face, did you notice?' said Ginny.

'Maybe she's a vampire,' said Seamus.

'Oh, honestly,' said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

'Whatever she is, she's...' Ginny began.

'Eerie,' said Harry.

'Exactly,' said Ginny, meeting his eyes, and for the first time in hours, she smiled at him.

Harry felt a rush of warmth in his blood and smiled back. Apparently she wasn't upset at him anymore, and he was very grateful for this. But then he thought of Dumbledore again, and his gloomy mood returned.

'Much as I would love to ruminate on which community of species our new professor belongs to,' said Dean, 'I'm knackered, and I'm turning in.'

'Me, too,' said Seamus.

And with that, everyone stood up and started to filter upstairs. Seamus and Lavender had a few quiet words at the foot of the girls' staircase, but Harry was relieved to see Seamus kiss her quickly and go up the spiral staircase alone. Neville said goodnight and followed quickly on the heels of Seamus.

Harry stretched his back, and Ginny followed suit, and Harry tried not to look at her when she did.

He looked anyway. Nope, the robes did nothing to hide the curves and swell of her bosom.

'Well,' said Ron, and Harry jumped.

Shit. He didn't just catch me looking at Ginny's chest, did he?

'We're...um...turning in,' Ron said, and the tips of his ears went pink.

'Okay,' said Harry, confused. 'See you upstairs, then--'

'No, actually,' said Hermione, and her cheeks were pink. 'Um, we...we haveourownrooms...' Her voice dropped and trailed off.

'Excuse me?' said Harry.

'They have their own rooms,' said Ginny. 'Part of the privileges of being Head Students.'

'Oh,' said Harry, and then he noticed that both Ron and Hermione were blushing furiously. 'Oh,' Harry said again.

Lucky bastards. They don't even have to sneak around anymore to have a shag!

'Well...good night,' said Hermione, in a too-bright voice, and she quickly pecked Harry on the cheek and hugged Ginny.

'G'night, mate,' said Ron, and he grabbed Harry's hand and shook it, but looked determinedly at the far wall behind Harry's head.

'Gin,' Ron said, giving his sister a quick hug.

The two of them started toward the portrait hole.

'The rooms aren't in the tower?' Harry asked.

'No, they're a few floors down,' said Hermione, her cheeks still pink. 'They're centrally located to all the four houses.'

'Really?' said Ron.

Hermione gave him a look, shook her head, and headed out the portrait hole, calling out a last 'Good night' to Harry and Ginny.

Ron turned and smiled sheepishly at the two of them and followed his girlfriend out.

'Makes you wonder,' said Ginny, as the portrait of the fat lady closed behind Ron. She moved closer to Harry and he felt his pulse quicken. He caught her scent, that delicious vanilla scent, and he could feel warmth radiating off her.

Bloody hell.

'Makes you wonder what?' said Harry, his voice croaking a bit.

'How many times the beds in those rooms have been christened,' said Ginny.

'Don't really want to think about that, Gin,' said Harry, smiling at her tiredly.

'Sorry,' said Ginny, and then she grinned mischievously. 'You know, Harry, your parents were Head Boy and Girl--'

'Don't even go there, Ginny, unless you want me to go on about your parents.'

'Touché,' she said, smiling, and she looked up into his eyes.

Oh, shit.

For a moment neither of them said anything; Harry found himself pulled into her gaze, and for the first time he noticed just how beautiful brown eyes could be. Except that hers weren't brown. Not pure brown. They were amber and gold and chocolate all at once.

'Are you okay?' she asked suddenly, and he blinked.

'What?'

'Are you okay?' she repeated. 'About...Dumbledore, I mean?'

'Oh, that,' said Harry, and he looked away for a moment. 'I...I dunno. I mean...he's so old now and...he'll still be here, won't he? Not like he's going to retire in Tahiti or something.'

Another brief silence.

'But?' said Ginny, her voice prompting him.

'Tonight I...I realized for the first time that...that he won't be always be around,' said Harry, and he felt his throat constrict. 'Someday...he won't be around at all.'

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his face screwing up in pain as his head continued to pound.

'Headache?' Ginny asked.

Harry opened his eyes. 'Yeah,' he said, rubbing at his temples.

Before he could stop her she'd taken his wrists in her small hands and lowered his hands to his sides. She placed one hand on his shoulder and reached up with the other to press it against his forehead...

'Ginny...don't,' Harry said, taking her right hand in his. He lowered her hand gently.

'It'll help you,' she said firmly, and she lifted her hand, only to have him take her wrist again.

'I thought Empaths could only take away...emotional stuff,' said Harry.

'You're upset,' said Ginny. 'That's why you have a headache in the first place.'

'True,' Harry admitted.

'All right, then,' and she moved to touch his forehead again. He stepped back.

'It hurts you,' said Harry. 'I know it does. I don't feel right...knowing that you curing me...causes you pain.'

'It only hurts a little,' said Ginny. 'As long as I'm in control it doesn't hurt me that much. And anyway, I'm in training here. I sort of need the practice and I don't feel like using just anyone as my guinea pig.'

Harry laughed in spite of himself.

'That sounds a bit like a bribe,' he said, and he winced as the throbbing in his head grew stronger.

'I prefer to call it reciprocity,' said Ginny.

'Big word,' said Harry.

'Yes, it is,' said Ginny. 'Now shut up.'

And before he could move she took her left hand and placed it on his shoulder, and pressed her right firmly against his forehead. She closed her eyes. Harry watched her, fascinated. Her eyelids fluttered and he noticed her eyelashes, which were darker than Ron's; her lips were slightly parted and she took another breath.

It was then that Harry felt, for the first time, a true taste of her power. For a brief moment his mind was empty, and there was nothing but whiteness in front of his eyes, and then, a flood.

His mind was flooded with a feeling of contentment and...an image. A brief but recognizable image: the feast at the end of second year.

He felt the tension in his skull vanish. Ginny gave a wince and yanked her hand away. For a moment her face was stretched in pain.

'Ginny, are you okay?' he asked, but his voice felt thick, slow.

'Fine,' she said, and her face cleared and she relaxed. 'I'm fine.'

'Wow,' he said, his own mind coming back into focus. 'I...that's incredible.'

'A work in progress,' said Ginny.

Harry blinked; he felt lighter than he had all day, as light as the moment when he'd kissed Daphne.

He felt his cheeks flame as Ginny looked at him.

'Are you okay?' she asked. 'That wasn't too much, was it?'

'No,' said Harry, not having a clue what she meant by 'too much.' And suddenly he was curious again, curious...about Draco...

'Ginny...' he asked, taking a step toward her.

'Yes?' she asked, and her voice changed. It became thin, airy.

'I was just...wondering...' he stammered.

Bloody hell. How could he possibly put the question he wanted to ask her?

Yeah, so, I was just wondering what sort of favour or favours you did for Malfoy in order to make sure he kept his mouth shut about your powers.

'Never mind,' said Harry. 'Thanks. I...I needed that.'

'You're welcome,' she said. 'Well, good night.'

'G'night,' he said, looking into her eyes again.

She smiled softly and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.

Except that at that very moment, Harry was overcome with the impulse to kiss her cheek, too, that he turned, and before he knew what was happening, her lips brushed against his.

She pulled away quickly, blushing so red he could see it in the dying firelight.

'Sorry,' she said.

'Sorry,' he said. 'Missed.' He looked into her eyes again.

Stop doing that! That's what gets you into trouble.

I can't help it!

'Oh, me too,' she said quickly. 'I wasn't really aiming...for...'

Her voice trailed off as she looked at him. His eyes were on her lips.

'Ginny,' he heard himself say. No, croak.

'Harry,' he heard her say. No, murmur.

Harry wasn't really sure how it happened. Some invisible force, like a hand in the small of his back, propelled him toward Ginny, and he felt his hands go up, as if being pulled by strings, and cup the sides of her face. She gave a little gasp before his lips sealed over hers.

Thunder clapped in his head as she tilted her head and slanted her mouth against his; her arms went round his neck and he felt his lips open and his tongue moved into her mouth, seeking and tasting. He felt the press of her breasts, those magnificent breasts, against his chest, and a moan came from the back of his throat as the blood rushed lower.

What are you doing, Potter? This is Ginny!

Damn right it is, and she kisses like a bloody genius...

He was lost in sensation, lost to everything; he was drowning in a distant sea and didn't want to be pulled back in, when suddenly he felt a sharp, searing pain along his scar. It radiated outward and squeezed his head, his face, his mouth...

Suddenly it was gone, and at that moment Ginny squeaked and pushed him away, hard. Her hands flew to her head and she trembled violently.

'Ginny,' Harry panted, alarmed and afraid. He was cold, so very cold, but she was shaking and clutching her head, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain. He took a step toward her, reaching out a hand to touch her...

'Don't,' she gasped. 'Don't...'

She backed away from him, her eyes finally lifting to meet his, her face still tight with pain, her eyes huge and fearful.

'Ginny,' Harry said, and now he was really scared. 'What's the matter?'

'I'm sorry,' she said, and her voice, her face, were terrified. 'I didn't mean...I shouldn't have...I'm sorry!'

And before he could stop her, she turned in a swirl of black school robes and raced up the girls' staircase.

Harry stared after her, his heart pounding. His mouth still tingled from kissing her, and he felt the faintest throbbing in his head.

He looked down at his hands and saw that they were shaking, just slightly. He took a deep breath to still them, and without really thinking about it, his feet propelled him up the boys' staircase to the seventh year dormitory.

As he crawled into bed a short while later, his heart still hammering, it occurred to him that perhaps he ought to feel a little bit guilty, not only for kissing Ginny, but for kissing her on the same bloody day as he'd kissed Daphne. It occurred to him, too, that were he anyone else, he might feel pretty damn proud of himself for kissing two pretty girls in one day.

But as he pulled up the covers to his chin, trying desperately to get warm, he didn't feel guilt. He felt only apprehension.

What had happened? What had Ginny done? One minute they were kissing and the next...

Harry shuddered. Ginny's powers were obviously stronger than he realized, and it scared him. But what was more unnerving was that, in the moments after they'd kissed, she'd been frightened...of herself.