For Your Love

Chapter 13 - Beautiful

"I think I owe you an apology," Ellie began.

It was the following evening, and Harry had just walked into dungeon five for their make-up session to find her already sitting at their workstation.

He dropped onto his stool and looked at her inquiringly, but said nothing. He wasn't about to make this easy for her. Not only had she embarrassed him in front of Snape and ruined their joint project, but now he had to give up three evenings over the next week in order to get their Inanimatus Potion back on track: time that would have been better spent doing the homework that was rapidly piling up for the seventh years.

Ellie glanced at him and then back down at the tabletop. "Reed, my boyfriend... well, I guess he's not..." she began, tripping over her words. "I think you saw us in Hogsmeade."

Harry nodded shortly.

Ellie went on. "He broke up with me, right there, right in the middle of the Three Broomsticks, and I guess I'm just... I'm not handling it very well."

Harry remembered seeing her crying in the alleyway in Hogsmeade. He felt just as uncomfortable now as he had then and merely replied, "Oh."

"I mean, we were together for a year, and then he just, out of the blue..." She looked at him apologetically. "I know this isn't your problem. Except that now you've got a lump for a Potions partner, and I've messed up everything, and here we are stuck in the dungeons when I'm sure there are loads of other things you'd rather be doing. And I can't believe the things I said to you, after all you've been through! I had no right. I'm so sorry, Harry. For everything."

Her blue eyes looked so sincere that Harry's stony face softened a bit. "Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly in a stellar mood yesterday either. I should have paid more attention," he mumbled.

She shot him a sympathetic look. "Slytherin dealt you quite a blow, didn't they? You flew spectacularly though, you really did."

Harry half-shrugged and shook his head distractedly. "Yeah. But it's not just that. It's..." He looked up at her, listening so intently, seeming so interested in what he had to say. He forgot momentarily that she was not aware of all the intricacies of his life like Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were. "I've just got a lot on my mind these days."

She sighed. "We make quite a pair, don't we? Maybe Professor Snape wasn't so smart to put us together after all."

Harry chuckled quietly. "We'll just have to make the best of it I suppose." He smiled at her, and her face lightened. "So... asphodel..." he said, opening his notebook and reading the ingredient list.

"I've already got the first few things measured out. I came down early to make sure it was all done," she said, adopting a businesslike tone.

He looked up in surprise. "Oh, you didn't have to do that..."

"No, it was my fault. I didn't want you to lose your whole evening because of me."

"Well... thanks," he said, though he was beginning to think there were definitely worse ways to spend an evening than with Ellie Bridgeton.

* * *

"Thanks everyone, I think we're done here," Hermione said, and a sigh of relief rose from the room. The prefects gathered their things and began to filter out from their monthly meeting.

"Ready?" asked Ron, drumming his fingers on the table as Hermione continued to scribble last minute notes. On the other side of the room, Pansy Parkinson waited just as impatiently for Draco.

"Um," said Hermione, dotting her last "i" and glancing at Ron. "I think we just need to..." She gestured across the table at Draco, who looked up from his piece of parchment.

"Yes, but let's get on with it, shall we? I don't have all night," Draco said in a clipped tone.

Hermione turned to face Ron. "There are just a few things we need to go over. I won't be long."

Ron grimaced as though he had just tasted something objectionable and looked sideways at Malfoy. But Hermione touched his face and turned his attention back to her.

"Hey," she said softly, "save me a seat by the fire." She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss, bringing a smile to his face.

"Alright, now I'm just going to be sick," Draco complained, but Hermione noticed that he allowed Pansy to do the same to him before she swung her bag over her shoulder and swept out of the room.

When they were alone, Hermione got up and closed the door, leaning against it with her arms crossed.

"What do you think?" she asked, nodding at the parchment he still held.

"Does it matter what I think?" he replied, tossing the paper onto the table. "If Dumbledore wants to reinforce the wards around the castle and increase the patrols, what am I going to say? No?"

"But Dumbledore has had this place locked down since the beginning of the war. I can't imagine how extra prefect patrols are going to make it any safer. Do you agree that the castle needs to be more fortified than it already is?"

"No, Granger, I'd like the castle to remain as unsafe as possible," he said sarcastically.

Hermione looked at him shrewdly, trying to discern by his reaction whether his apparent newfound loyalty to Professor Dumbledore was genuine or a ruse to hide another, more sinister agenda. She had been constantly surprised by his willingness to submit himself to Dumbledore this term, and even though he had at times expressed disagreement and had spoken more brazenly to the headmaster than she would ever have done, he had ultimately deferred to Dumbledore's leading. He had also been good to his word, for whatever that was worth, in taking charge of Slytherin house with an iron grip but leaving the other students largely untouched and in Hermione's care. She couldn't quite work it out.

"I don't know why I bother..." she muttered.

"Why do you bother? I thought your master plan was for us to keep as far away from each other as possible this year. And I have to say, it's working splendidly. Let's keep it that way."

He stood and gathered his things together, signaling the end of their conversation. But when he reached the door, Hermione did not move. She narrowed her eyes and fixed them on his.

"What now?" he asked coldly.

"I can't decide if your upstanding Head Boy act is genuine or just that... an act."

"Well, while you're busy working that out, I'll just leave, shall I?"

But Hermione stood her ground. "You haven't called me that filthy name in weeks. And you've even left off taunting Harry and Ron... by your standards anyway. Why?"

Draco's temper flared. "Are you seriously whinging that I'm not being nasty enough? Merlin, there really is nothing good enough for you, is there!"

His voice had risen in spite of his carefully cultivated ability to control his emotions. He caught himself and lowered his tone to a more dignified level, narrowing his eyes and leaning into her.

"My opinion of you hasn't changed, mudblood. But even you must know that Dumbledore wouldn't let me anywhere near Head Boy if he thought I was completely untrustworthy. Maybe, for once in your life, you'll have to accept the fact that you don't know everything." He punctuated his last words intentionally, challenging her to defy him. She accepted and stood a little straighter, lifting her chin.

"Voldemort was Head Boy, too," she stated simply.

Draco's eye twitched at the use of the Dark Lord's name, but his voice was deadly calm. "Yes, he was."

A thrill of fear swept through Hermione, the tension between them thick with innuendo. "I hope you know what you're doing, Malfoy. I want to trust you. I want to believe that your father getting sent to Azkaban has finally opened your eyes to the insanity of your pureblood agenda. But if you're playing us, if you're playing some game that is going to cost people their lives, then not even the Dark Lord will be able to save you when I get through with you."

Only then did she move aside, but their eyes remained locked until Draco finally opened the door and stepped out, shutting it with a firm snap behind him. Hermione let out a shuddering breath and clutched the table in front of her as the adrenaline that had been holding her up left her in a rush.

Outside the door, Draco stood staring at the wall that separated them. "Damn you, Hermione," he whispered, fists clenched as he made his way down the marble staircase, across the Entrance Hall, and into the dungeons.

* * *

Hermione drew a steadying breath before climbing through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. Ron sat in his usual armchair by the fire where he had been waiting for her, having nodded off with his head slumped to the side. She smiled, suddenly filled with a warm sense of security. Dropping her things on the floor, she sat on the wide arm of his chair and reached out her hand to brush his long fringe out of his eyes.

He started awake, but smiled when his eyes fell on her, stretching sleepily. "I waited for you."

She slid onto his lap and buried her face in his neck. "Thank you," came her muffled voice.

"You alright?" he asked, lifting her chin to look up at him.

She snuggled into him. "I am now."

On the other side of the room, Ginny watched them from her perch on the window seat. She caught Harry's eye and nodded in her brother's direction. Harry looked up from the table where he had been studiously catching up on his homework and smiled, pleasantly surprised by this rare scene of peacefulness between his two friends.

Ginny put a finger in the book she was reading and padded over to Harry's table, dropping into a seat next to him. She leaned over his arm. "What are you working on? You've been sitting here since we left for the prefect's meeting hours ago."

Her closeness was beginning to affect Harry's concentration, especially the way her hair was now brushing against his arm. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat so that she sat up again.

"Just catching up. This essay for Flitwick is my last one."

"Mind if I sit with you? The light's a bit dim by the window."

"Sure."

Ginny curled her legs under her and opened her book, the fourth in the Elena Bronwen series that Harry had given her for her birthday. She sat quietly, only the occasional sound of a turning page breaking the silence. But try as he might, Harry could not seem to get past the sentence on his parchment that he had been trying to read for several minutes now, his eyes unconsciously darting to the redhead beside him every few seconds.

And then he realized what was drawing his attention. It was not Ginny, but the moving picture on the cover of her book. The same stunning, determined witch stared out at him that he had admired months before when he had first discovered the books in Flourish and Blotts, holding her wand tightly while the wind off the moors whipped her long dark hair around her face. He hadn't realized it until now, but she looked remarkably like Ellie Bridgeton.

"Ah," he exclaimed softly, finally resolving the nagging feeling he'd had that Ellie reminded him of someone.

"What?" Ginny asked.

"It's nothing, I just..." He trailed off, not wanting to share the thoughts that had flitted through his head. "That's the book I gave you. Is it any good?"

"Yes, it's brilliant." She had noticed Harry looking at the cover and flipped the book shut to stare at it herself. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Harry felt his cheeks color and quickly turned back to his parchment. "I suppose."

Ginny, sensing his discomfort, seized on the chance to have a bit of fun. "What do you mean, you suppose?" she asked, thrusting the book in front of him. "Do you think she's beautiful or not?"

Harry glanced up at her mirthful eyes and conceded with a dry smile. "Yes, she's beautiful."

"What makes her beautiful?" she asked.

"What do you mean? Just look at her..." Harry gestured toward the picture. "Any bloke would think she's pretty."

"But I mean, what exactly?"

Harry studied Ginny's face for a moment, trying to determine if she had an ulterior motive for this question, but was only met with an innocent curiosity. He looked back down at the cover.

"Well, her hair, I suppose. I like long hair on a girl."

Ginny reached up without thinking and tucked her hair behind her ear. "What else?"

"Her eyes. They're pretty. And she looks... strong. Sort of mysterious, yeah?"

"Mmmm," Ginny murmured in agreement. There was a pause.

"Anyway," Harry said to fill the silence, "I'd better finish this essay."

"Right, I'm going to bed. It's late." She glanced over to the girls' staircase where Ron and Hermione were saying goodnight as well.

"G'night, Harry."

"'Night, Gin."

Ginny smiled as she dressed for bed. On the way back from the prefect's meeting, she and Colin had stolen into an empty classroom for a few precious moments alone together. Their kisses had been playful and punctuated by fits of laughter before they had snuck back to the common room and said their goodnights. And then, sitting next to Harry quietly, feeling his strong presence, she had a sense of deep contentment. Her two men, as she thought of them now. So different, but together filling the spaces in her heart until it was overflowing. Snuffing out the candle beside her bed, she burrowed beneath the covers and was soon overtaken by sleep. But the depths of her subconscious mind had just begun to awaken.

"Ginny. Ginevra, I'm here. I know you can feel me. Won't you come to me? Won't you talk with me like you used to?"

Ginny stirred. A cold washed over her and she shuddered. She tried to open her eyes, but they were too heavy with sleep.

"No," her dream-self whispered. "I won't."

"Look at you, so beautiful, so much more a woman than the last time I saw you. Others have seen it as well, haven't they? But your heart still burns only for one. I wonder, does he think you're very beautiful? Does he love to look at your long hair and stare into your eyes? No one has looked into your eyes and seen the depths of your soul like I have."

"I love him."

"Love?" the voice spat. "Love is weak. Only power is strong. Together we are powerful, Ginevra. Together we can accomplish great things. Don't you remember? You don't need love."

"Colin loves me."

"Does he? He is just a boy, what does he know about you? A filthy mudblood; he is beneath you. Does he know what you and I had together? Does he know that you used to tell me your deepest fears, your darkest secrets? Does he know that you are the one who petrified him and left him lying in a hospital bed for so many months? No one knows you like I do. Come to me, I'm longing for you."

"No, Tom. I won't. I won't!"

Ginny sat up in bed, breathing heavily. She looked around the room, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. There was no one there, save the soft breathing of her roommates deep in their own dreams. She lay back down and stared at the canopy of her four-poster, willing herself to believe the mantra that she was chanting over and over again. "It was just a dream. Just a dream." Tom Riddle was dead, the memory of him pierced through and ripped apart by Harry. Her Harry.

Yet she knew in her heart that he was not gone. He had visited her before, in the field of flowers at the Burrow after her first year. She had convinced herself that it was only her mind playing tricks on her, delusions brought on by the trauma that she had endured in the Chamber of Secrets. And she had not dreamt of him since then. Why now? What forces in her mind had been unleashed now to allow him access again?

She shut her eyes and tried to block out all thought, but sleep eluded her until well into the night.

* * *

Ginny stumbled down to breakfast the next morning, yawning into her bowl of porridge. She had finally snuck in a few hours of sleep near dawn, but it was not enough. She felt on edge and told herself that it was the lack of sleep, and not the unwelcome dream, that was making her jittery. Now, sitting in the sun-bathed Great Hall surrounded by chatter and clinking tableware, it was easier to believe she had imagined it all.

An unseen body swooped up behind her, circling two arms around her waist, and she jumped sky-high, flinging her spoonful of porridge straight into Colin's unsuspecting face.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, sitting down beside her and reaching for a napkin.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

"Saying good morning, what are you doing?"

"Sorry, had a rough night."

Colin reached for some toast. "Why?"

"Nothing," Ginny mumbled.

"Nothing?"

"It's nothing, alright? Just had a bad dream. I was up late talking to Harry and..."

Colin fought not to choke on his pumpkin juice. "Harry?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Oh."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What? Nothing."

Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked at him. "What, are you jealous now?"

Colin knew that if he showed any inkling that he was bothered by his girlfriend spending time alone with the love of her life that he might as well pack it in right there. He had to accept their relationship for what it was and, somehow, do his best to take Harry's place in her heart. Someday. If that was even possible.

"No. Why... should I be?"

"We are friends, you know. It's not out of the ordinary that I might chat with him once in a while."

"No, it's not," he said reasonably.

Ginny was tired, and snippy, and probably being unfair. But his nonchalant attitude irked her. He had no reason to be jealous of her spending time with Harry, but would it hurt him to show a little more fight? She had the feeling she was going to need someone to fight for her. Soon.

She pushed away her bowl with a sigh and leaned to pick up her schoolbag. "Time for Herbology," she mumbled, and Colin finished his juice in one gulp, picked up his books and followed her out of the Hall.

Harry watched Ginny as she strode past, thinking that she looked very pale, before turning his attention back to Ron and Hermione.

"So then, I need to meet with Professor Vector about my Arithmancy project, and I'm on prefect patrols for lunch," Hermione was saying, consulting her schedule for the day.

"So, I'll meet you after lunch then. I'll bring you a sandwich, and we can walk to Charms together," Ron said.

"No I can't, because I told Professor Flitwick I would come early to discuss me tutoring some of his O.W.L. students."

"Hermione, you've got to eat." Ron swallowed a mouthful of his own breakfast.

Harry's eyes waffled back and forth between them from across the table. It was exhausting enough watching them when they were like this - Ron trying desperately to wedge himself into Hermione's carefully crafted plans that, oddly enough, never seemed to include a spot for him - that Harry couldn't even imagine actually being in the relationship itself.

"Oh, no! I've got to run to the library before Ancient Runes and it's nearly nine!" Hermione gathered up her things and turned to Ron. "I'm sorry, I'll see you... well, I'll see you in Transfiguration. Sorry!" She kissed him on the cheek and hurried away, her robes and hair bouncing in her wake.

Harry gave Ron a sympathetic smile. "That's Hermione for you. Never happy unless she's..."

"Busy. Yeah, I know." Ron stared at his plate for a moment, lost in thought, but then seemed to snap himself out of it. "Ready, mate?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "let's go."

* * *

"Mr. Potter, that is the third time you have managed to blow up your wattlebird," Professor McGonagall said, wiping the red feathers from her hair. "I'm afraid my patience and my supply of wattlebirds are running thin."

"Sorry, Professor."

"Practice for homework, please."

"Yes, ma'am."

Harry lowered his wand and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. He was tired and unfocussed. The days were beginning to blur together as autumn crept onward, and the strain of being a seventh year N.E.W.T. student, Quidditch captain, and hero-in-waiting was taking its toll.

Later that afternoon, Professor Flitwick had much the same reaction to Harry's faulty Imperturbable Charm and was expressing his concern at the quality of Harry's work when the bell rang, signaling the end of class.

"Alright, Mr. Potter, you are free to go. But I must insist that you..."

"Practice," Harry interrupted with a groan. "For homework. Yes, sir."

He didn't miss Flitwick's frown, nor Hermione's raised eyebrow, as he gathered his things and headed out of the classroom.

"Are you feeling okay, Harry?" Hermione asked, coming alongside him.

He waved her off, not wanting to have the conversation that was sure to ensue. "Just tired," he said.

"You're still up for extra Keeper practice though, right?" asked Ron, coming up on his other side. "Because the weather's good and we've got a free period while Hermione's in Arithmancy. We can get it in before dinner."

"Oh, that's good," Hermione beamed, "because then you'll both be free tonight for a Defense revision session!"

Harry stopped walking and looked at both of them. All he wanted to do at the moment was collapse onto his bed for a well-earned nap.

"Yeah, alright," he sighed, forcing a smile and trying to ignore the pressure settling on the back of his neck.

* * *

The rest of the week was no better, and by the time Harry arrived for his third Potions make-up session with Ellie late Saturday afternoon, he felt like something resembling a very grouchy, very harassed, very tired-looking goblin. It was not helped by the fact that Ellie seemed to be in a similar frame of mind, which did not bode well for the state of their project.

"You haven't had a worse week than me," she said, catching his mood as he walked through the door and jumping in before he could say anything.

"I have."

"No, you haven't."

Harry dropped his book onto the table and crossed his arms, surveying her as she chose a bulbous seed and began to grind it into a powder with her mortar and pestle.

"I've had less than four hours of sleep every night for the past five days," he began calmly.

"I've fallen asleep in three classes this week and lost fifty points for Ravenclaw," she said, equally nonchalant.

"I've gotten extra homework in every class," Harry went on, gathering momentum.

"I've gotten detention for the first time in my life for having so many incomplete assignments," she countered.

"I've got a best friend who is so bad at Quidditch that I spend every available moment I have throwing Quaffles at his face in the hope that he'll actually stop one of them."

A smirk crossed Ellie's face briefly before becoming serious again. "I've got roommates who are convinced that I'm having a nervous breakdown and keep trying to slip Pepper-Up Potions into my pumpkin juice."

Harry stood silently for a moment, thinking. Finally, he said, "I've got a Dark Lord trying to kill me."

There was a pause as Ellie stopped grinding and looked up slowly from her cup of white powder.

"Alright, you win."

Harry's lips curled into a half smile. "I thought I might."

They stared at each other, the corners of Ellie's lips twitching, and she dropped her pestle into the bowl with a clang as her shoulders shook with silent laughter. Harry felt the weight on his shoulders lift an inch.

"You know what we need?" she asked.

"What?"

"A distraction."

Ellie opened her textbook and read, "'The Reishi Mushroom must be picked within twenty-four hours of the full moon in order to achieve maximum potency.' When was the last full moon?"

Harry thought. "Two days ago?"

"Close enough," Ellie shrugged. "Come on, let's go for a walk."

Harry stared at her blankly. "A walk?" But she had already picked up a basket from a nearby shelf and was on her way out the door. "Um," he said, jogging to catch up, "I'm sure Snape has some in his private storeroom..."

"So? Is Professor Snape's private storeroom your idea of a distraction? No. We're going to find our own."

She marched up the dungeon stairs and through the oak front doors at a brisk pace, heading across the lawn toward the Forbidden Forest.

"We're going into the Forest? How do you know there are mushrooms in there?" Harry asked.

"Reishi Mushrooms grow on logs and tree stumps. Besides, I know that Hagrid harvests them. He mentioned it in our Care of Magical Creatures class once. He feeds them to sick animals." She looked at him sideways as they continued across the lawn, side by side. "You have been in the Forest before, haven't you?"

Harry coughed. "Once or twice. Have you?"

"Once or twice," she replied with a sly smile.

The late October sun was warm and by the time they reached the edge of the tree line, they had both shrugged off their school robes, draping them on a nearby branch.

"They do need some sunlight to grow, so they shouldn't be too far in," Ellie said, stepping into the cool shadows, the twigs snapping beneath her feet.

They walked quietly for a few minutes, stopping now and then to examine a fallen log before Harry called, "Is this it?"

Ellie made her way over to the top of a ravine where Harry stood, looking over the edge at an old tree stump sticking out of the earth a few feet down the steep slope.

"Yes, that's it!" Ellie nodded. "I'll climb down and get some."

"What?" Harry started. "You can't climb down there."

Ellie looked at him with a mixture of offense and amusement. "Of course I can, it's not far. Here, hold my hand in case I slip."

She set down her basket and held out her hand. Despite his better judgment, Harry grasped it firmly and braced his legs as she lowered herself over the edge. She crept further and further, stretching her arm as far as it would go.

"I can't reach. Bend down a little further."

Harry crouched down on his knees, intending to lower her gently. But at that moment, Ellie let out a sharp yelp and he was pulled forcefully to the ground, his arm now hanging well over the edge, still clutching her hand.

"Ow," he groaned.

"Sorry, my foot just slipped," she gasped. "I'm alright. I can reach it now."

She quickly pulled off as many mushrooms as she could reach and stuffed them into the pockets of her skirt. Harry grasped her arm with both hands and began to pull as she scrambled back up to the top.

"There!" she said, with a broad smile and rosy cheeks. She emptied her pockets into the basket and stood to brush herself off. "That was fun."

"Yes, it was brilliant," Harry said sarcastically, standing and rubbing his shoulder. But he couldn't help but smile at her daring enthusiasm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Look at you, you're a mess!"

Ellie reached out and touched his chest, wiping away the dirt that clung to his shirt. He didn't move, but let her, watching her face as her eyes roamed over him, causing a fluttering in his stomach. When the dirt was gone, her hand lingered. She moved closer and ran her fingers up to his shoulder and down his arm, her eyes following their trail. Harry tensed. Even Ginny had never touched him like this. It awakened something unexpected deep inside him.

"What are you doing?" he asked softly.

She met his eyes then and smiled. "Creating a distraction." She lifted her lips and met his tenderly. After a moment's hesitation, he returned the kiss, fighting down the torrent of emotions that were both pulling him back and pushing him forward all at once. His hands found their way to her hips and rested there, not sure if he should push her away or draw her closer. Reason eventually found its way into his brain and he broke away, looking down into her darkened eyes.

"Ellie, I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Well, despite what you might think of me, I'm pretty much a mess when it comes to relationships, and you're just getting out of one. I'm not sure you know what you're getting into."

"Who said anything about a relationship?"

Harry felt a jolt of embarrassment. "Oh... isn't that what you were..."

"I just want to feel close to someone, to have some relief from real life for a while. I think you need that, too. Couldn't we just... do that for each other? For a little while?"

He stared into her eyes. It seemed so simple, so inviting, to lose himself in the touch of someone who didn't expect anything from him, who he didn't have to worry about hurting, just to have a release from the pressure and doubts that still plagued him.

"I don't know, can we? I'm not Reed."

"I'm not asking you to be. No strings, Harry. I promise." She took his hand in both of hers and lifted his palm to her lips. He let his fingertips graze across her cheek, but kept himself in check.

She searched his face. "You don't believe me."

He dropped his hand and stepped back, crossing his arms and biting his thumbnail absently for a moment before meeting her eyes. "I want to."

Pain and longing fluttered across her face. He wanted to take her in his arms and bury himself in her, forgetting everything else. But it couldn't really be that easy. Could it?

"Just think about it. If you can't, I understand." She stooped to pick up the basket of mushrooms and turned back toward the castle, brushing her hand self-consciously across her lips as she swept past him. He let her get a head start, then exhaled softly and followed her.

A/N: So, we've reached the halfway point. I just wanted to mention that this was the last chapter that I wrote before the release of HBP last year. I actually sent this off to my beta on the same day Book 6 came out. I did not go back and alter anything in the first half after reading HBP, nor did I change my plan for the later chapters. However, there were some eerie coincidences in the way my story was going and the things that happened in HBP. And even though I won't go into any discussion of horcruxes in this story, I think the background that HBP provided regarding them and how they work will be helpful in understanding the direction I took with regards to Ginny & Tom. Hope that wasn't too cryptic : ) Thanks for reading!