The Lion and the Unicorn

-A Man Is In Love, Waterboys

*

Harry stared at the parchment Anya's owl had just dropped onto his plate as if it were about to bite him. No longer the shade of brilliant emerald she'd been in the summer, Mada Dymphna was either molting badly or else someone had taken the coloring spell off of her. The parchment would have been innocuous enough, were it not for the fact that, after she'd dropped off his mail, she had circled around the Great Hall before dropping a present on Malfoy's breakfast, too.

Sighing resignedly, he picked up the parchment, broke the seal, and began to read- or attempted to read, anyway. The handwriting might have resembled Sirius' script, if, for example, Sirius was prone to having seizures while he wrote. Now curious, Harry pushed his plate away into the center of the table, where it disappeared, and concentrated on discerning the characters in the letter.

Harry almost swallowed his tongue.

In other words, the letter continued, I'm a free man. Look up; Hermione probably just read that in today's Daily Prophet.

Harry did, and saw that Hermione was gesturing frantically to Ron and Ginny, on either side of her, an abused-looking newspaper in hand. She had no doubt already seen that he had his own letter and assumed that it was from Sirius. Ron looked satisfied, and, under that, angry- the injustice of it got to him sometimes, Harry knew. And Ginny-

Was looking right at him. She flashed him a reassuring smile and went back to her breakfast. Harry wondered if he'd imagined her ears turning pink.

What Hermione doesn't know is that Wormtail escaped later that afternoon, probably just after they'd printed the Daily Prophet. They couldn't very well take off his whole arm, and as it acts as a wand in itself, he couldn't be properly disarmed (you'll pardon the pun). We don't know how he found Dromore House, but… I don't know how to tell you this, Harry, but Wormtail has kidnapped Leon.

All of the color drained from Harry's face and he felt himself choke. The contents of his stomach and his mind both seemed to want out rather desperately. He pushed back from the table blindly, steadying himself on the back of his chair, before making his way up to the Head Table. I've got to see Dumbledore.

"Professor?" Harry heard himself ask, sounding strangely alien to his own ears.

The Headmaster looked at him gravely, concern clearly etched on his face. "Yes, Harry?"

"I… don't think I can attend classes today, sir," he managed to say, wondering detachedly if the room was spinning or if he was merely swaying dangerously on his feet.

Professor Snape, who had probably been listening in, scowled and made as if to object, but Dumbledore cut him off. "I understand. Perhaps you should see Madam Pomfrey before you do anything else?"

For once, Harry thought that was a very good idea, although what he really wanted (if he couldn't have Sirius' company) was to simply be alone. "Thank you, sir. I'll- go now."

He was peripherally aware of the loud whisperings as he left the Great Hall, from Gryffindor and Slytherin tables in particular, but couldn't be bothered to actually hear or remember any of them. The corridor stretched out before him; Madam Pomfrey and the subsequent solitude were beckoning.

Harry had no idea how long he had been walking for when he came to the conclusion that he was hopelessly lost. "Oh, bugger," he said, and collapsed against the wall.

At some point he realized that he'd forgotten his mail in his breakfast, and that anyone could just come along and read it, but at that point he was far beyond caring. He wanted sleep- he wanted out of his damaged mind for once- but sleep wouldn't come, and he found moving his muscles too difficult, and so he sat there in a stupor, staring at his scuffed sneakers, and tried not to feel.

He must have sunk into some sort of trance, because his ears barely registered the footsteps moving towards him. "Harry?" He didn't look up- couldn't find the energy. He sat, seeing a new pair of shoes beside his own. They had been Charm-dyed a brilliant shade of teal. Harry knew those shoes. They belonged to Ginny Weasley. "Harry, are you alright?"

He managed to look at her this time. "No," he answered, his voice dull and without inflection. "I don't think so." Damn. She looked concerned. She sounded concerned. While a part of him reveled guiltily in the attention, the other part really, really wanted her to bugger off.

To the latter part's chagrin, he heard her slide to the floor beside him. "I'm sorry about Leon," she whispered, and pressed the letter from Sirius into his hands.

"Ginny Weasley," Harry deadpanned, "have you been reading my mail?"

He sensed her almost smile, but knew she probably felt almost as bad as he did. "Well, after you ran out like that, I- we all, I mean- were a little concerned and…" She trailed off. "I'm sorry." She sounded like it, too.

"It's alright," he said, going back to his stare into nothingness. "Er, Ginny? Where's the hospital wing?"

Beside him, she shifted suddenly, and paused before she spoke again. "Harry, do you know where you are?"

"No," he replied dully.

Ginny stood, brushed off her robes, and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, then. I'll take you there."

It took ten minutes, with Ginny half-supporting Harry the whole way, to reach the hospital wing. Finally they made it and Harry flopped down almost bonelessly onto the chair in the front office.

"Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asked. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?"

He let Ginny answer. "He's just had a bit of a shock- Sirius going free, and whatnot," Ginny said, looking less concerned than she had before. "He should be okay. He just needs… time…"

Madam Pomfrey gave her a scrutinizing sort of look, then went to her cupboard and brought forth a goblet of Pepperup Potion. "Drink this," she instructed him, turning back to Ginny. "Shouldn't you be in class, Miss Weasley?"

It seemed as if Ginny was about to protest, but she must have changed her mind. "Yes, you're right. I've got to get to Transfiguration." She cast what seemed to be an apologetic glance at Harry. What, she's leaving? Judging by the expression on Madam Pomfrey's face, she was probably about to feed him another potion. He pasted on a weak smile to prevent this. "Bye, Harry."

"Bye," Harry whispered, mostly to himself, fully aware that he was talking to a shadow.

*

"Dear God," were the first words Charlie was able to choke out after reading his mail. His face had gone white underneath his freckles, and his brown eyes seemed curiously dull. It was, needless to say, fairly disheartening.

"Charlie?" Chloë asked, quietly so that none of the other teachers would overhear their conversation. "Are you alright? What's happened?"

He didn't answer right away, and at that moment, Harry Potter made his way up to the teachers' table, looking much the way Charlie did. He spoke with Dumbledore and then stumbled out into the corridor, seemingly lost.

"Charlie! Hey," she said, softer. "What's the matter?"

The shocked expression had disappeared from Charlie's face, leaving something akin to emotional exhaustion in its place. "Do you remember Leon?"

Oh, please let Leon be okay. "Sirius' kid, big brown eyes?" He has to be alright. Who could harm such a child?

"He's been kidnapped."

Oh, hell. She felt her jaw work for a second, tried to express what she felt, but was quite incapable of it. She closed her eyes. "Ransom note?"

She could hear him shaking his head, but he must have realized that she wasn't looking, because he said, "No. No ransom note, no body, no blood- they know who the kidnapper is, though."

"Pettigrew." She spat the name- having already read that he'd escaped in her own morning mail, she was even more disgusted with him than she'd been when she'd learned of his betrayal. "How could anyone-"

"I know," said Charlie, looking away. "I know exactly how you feel."

*

Sirius hardly stirred as Remus and Arabella walked back in, not bothering to turn on the light as they headed to their respective bedrooms. He guessed that this signified another nonproductive day of searching for information on Leon's whereabouts.

It had taken most of his energy to convince Anya that she needed to stay home that day and rest. She hadn't slept in nearly a week, and was running mostly on caffeine and the bizarre emergency reserve of energy that she seemed to save for special occasions, which wasn't healthy. She'd hardly eaten, and the dark circles under her eyes had been starting to worry him.

There was the distinct sound of a bedroom door latching shut- Arabella's didn't close all the way, but Remus' stuck a little and always made a very clear snick. Sirius chanced a quick glance at Anya to make sure that she was still sleeping, and found himself feeling a desperate sort of possessiveness. The fact that he could not feel his arm also crossed his mind. It was fairly uncomfortable, at least in the physical sense, but Sirius didn't mind that so much. He Summoned his reading glasses and picked up his book from the table- a battered and much-loved copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which had a lot to do with Zen and comparatively little to do with motorcycles, lit his wand and stuck it behind his ear to act as a reading lamp. He was vaguely aware that he must look very silly, but didn't much care as everyone else in the house was sleeping.

That he couldn't concentrate any more on the words than he had the last time he'd picked it up did not surprise him in the slightest. Sometimes the complete abstraction of Robert Prisig's quest for philosophical answers hit a little close to home, especially when he figured in the man that he had once been and the responsibilities thrust upon him almost immediately after his escape from Azkaban. Sometimes… far too often, Anya had chided him… he wondered whether adopting Harry was the best thing for him. And it wasn't the only thing he was worrying about lately.

He looked over at Anya again and sighed. He wouldn't get another thing done that night, and he knew it too well. Sleep would not come easily; he had gotten into the habit of adding some of Arabella's Sleeping Drought stock to his drink each night before bed, but was now slowly building up an immunity and soon he would need to find an alternative.

Grimacing, Sirius removed his glasses and set them on the table, stood up and activated the wards on the fireplace to prevent unwanted Floo visitors. Unwilling to wake Anya, knowing that the Sleeping Drought he'd slipped her wasn't strong enough to keep her under for much longer, he pulled the afghan off of the back of the couch and spread it over her, not wanting or needing to wonder why his fingertips were tingling. With one last, resigned glance in her direction, Sirius headed for bed and the doubtful sanctuary of sleep.

*

The woman drew the cowl up around her face, glancing from side to side, trying to determine whether or not she was being watched. As she did so, she seemed to shimmer in midair, becoming less substantial, almost disappearing. She appeared to be in some sort of tunnel- dark as it was, Ginny couldn't be sure. Vague, muted sounds could be heard coming from the end of the corridor. The woman headed towards them, blending in easily with the stone walls. She reached the end of the tunnel stepped through the wall.

Oh, hell, Ginny thought.

I'm sleeping in a funny L-shape, noted Ginny with interest before she realized how bizarre that sounded, even in the dream in her mind's eye.

In the darkness of her dormitory, Ginny Weasley stirred awake. "Oh, hell." Confused, tired, grouchy and also somewhat relieved, she picked up the child in her arms and stole out of Gryffindor Tower. There was someone she had to see.

*

"Harry."

Was someone calling him? No, it was the middle of the night- he'd just awoken from an extremely bizarre dream that was already fading. He did not want to wake up. He had been getting little enough sleep lately, and now with Leon missing and Sirius and Anya upset beyond belief, the pressure was on more so than usual. And there were rumors about the giants' decision to side with Voldemort again flying around and Hagrid was still with them, and so Harry decided that he needed every single wink of sleep he could get, and that there was no voice calling him.

"Harry!" He recognized that not-voice. It was Ginny Weasley's.

Harry's eyes snapped open and he slid his hand into his sleeve, grabbing his wand and lighting it. "Ginny?" He reached for his glasses. "What in Merlin's name are you-" He settled them onto his nose. "Sniveling Slytherins. Is that who I think it is?"

"Hush," Ginny warned him, sitting on the edge of his bed. He scooted over to give her more room. "I've only just gotten him back to sleep. I thought he was going to wake the whole castle!"

"I'm not still dreaming, am I?" Harry asked, taking Leon from her arms. "I mean- I, uh, thought I saw… but it was only a dream…"

"Harry Potter," Ginny whispered, deadpan, "have you been dream-dropping?"

He felt his jaw drop. "You've been having them, too?" Leon stirred and buried himself further in his blankets. "Since when?"

Ginny fiddled with the button on her pajama top. Apparently she'd been in too much of a hurry to put on a robe. Harry tried hard not to think about it. "They've been getting stronger these past few months," she answered. "But I've been having them, off and on, since the end of first year." More fiddling with that button. "Since my encounter with … Voldemort…" She seemed to resign herself to something and before Harry could ask what she was doing, she undid the top button.

It was not far enough down that he could see anything he shouldn't have, but there was no way one could miss the thin lightning-bolt shaped scar just below her collarbone. "Oh, hell." Other words didn't quite seem appropriate. "When did… um…"

Ginny might have flushed in the darkness; Harry couldn't be sure. "Chamber of Secrets," she answered quietly. "Probably a few hours before you… um."

I'll kill him. "But if he tried to kill you, why didn't you, you know," Harry squirmed, "I guess I'm not the only one who's ever escaped Avada Kedavra after all." He took a deep breath. "But… how?"

"I don't know," she answered, but something about her tone made him want to think she was lying. "I always just assumed it was because he was weak, and using my wand…"

Harry shook his head. "I don't believe that for a minute." He'd always thought that the fact that his mother had died from him was what protected him from Voldemort. But if that were so, how had Ginny survived? No one had died for her… "Ginny?"

"Yeah?"

"We've got to go. We can't stay here- Madam Pomfrey comes in every once in a while to check on things. If we're caught, we are going to have some serious explaining to do." He was pretty sure Ginny was blushing as she buttoned her top again. "And besides that, we should get Charlie as fast as possible."

"You're right. But we also can't let ourselves be caught outside the castle. It's grounds for immediate expulsion."

Harry grinned. "Leave that to me."

Fifteen minutes later, the three of them were snug under the Invisibility Cloak, making their way out to Hagrid's cabin. "Harry?"

"Yeah?" he answered, trying not to get distracted and smack into her again.

"What are we going to do if Professor Sanderson is in there?"

Both of them stopped dead. Harry felt a grin spread across his face. "Run like hell?" he suggested.

Ginny giggled. Leon stirred and yawned in Harry's arms, and she grew quiet again. "Look out," she whispered suddenly. "That Auror's coming this way!"

There was nowhere and no time to hide. Before they knew it, the Auror was almost directly in front of them. They froze as Mad-Eye Moody walked past. Harry watched with a sinking feeling as the magical eye trained on them. They were caught- he knew that that eye could see through Invisibility Cloaks-

But Mad-Eye just grinned and whistled to himself as he walked by. Harry imagined him singing "constant vigilance" to the tune. "That was close," Ginny whispered.

Closer than you know, Harry thought to himself, feeling somewhat wary. The last time Mad-Eye had seen him with his Invisibility Cloak, it hadn't really been Mad-Eye. "Yeah. Let's just get to Charlie's."

There was still, surprisingly, a light on in the cabin, and were they not invisible, Harry and Ginny might have exchanged something of a knowing glance. "What now?" Ginny asked. "Do we just go in, or do we knock first?"

Thinking what Ginny had about the possibility of Charlie having company, Harry opted for knocking. There was a pause, then from inside a voice called, "Come in."

As it turned out, Charlie wasn't alone, but his company was not female. Sirius was sitting in the other chair by the fireplace, a mug of what, knowing Charlie, was probably Ogden's Old Firewhiskey in his hands. Both of them were staring blankly at the open doorway where Ginny and Harry stood. Feeling somewhat stupid, Harry shut the door behind him and pulled off the cloak.

Sirius gave a start and took a deep breath, shaking his head. "If you were a few inches taller, Harry…"

Harry blushed red to the roots of his hair, suddenly having the strange urge to put the cloak back on. Fortunately, Sirius and Charlie were much too interested in who Ginny was holding rather than how much they looked like his father and…

"Ginny, is that who I think it is?" Charlie asked, getting up.

Sirius was already there, somehow managing to envelop all three of them in a hug before plucking Leon from Ginny's arms. "Do I want to know how?" he asked, sounding a bit hoarse and looking at the two of them. Seeing their expressions, he answered the question for himself. "I want to know, but you won't tell me anyway." He closed his eyes and held Leon closer. After being silent for a while, he said, "Do you want to get Anya, or shall I?"

"I'll get her," Charlie said, heading towards the fireplace.

Sirius put out a hand and stopped him. "Later," he said. "She needs whatever sleep she can get right now."

"Right," Charlie answered, feeling sheepish. "You just finished telling me that, too. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Sirius smiled wanly, flopping back into his chair, the whiskey forgotten.

"Right," Harry said, picking up the cloak and slinging it over his arm. "It might be a good idea if we got going before we got caught…"

Sirius nodded. "You're absolutely right-"

He was cut off by a loud knock on the door, which opened before Harry had a chance to cover himself or Ginny with the cloak. It was luckily just enough time to shove the cloak into Charlie's broomstick holder. In the doorway stood Professor Snape. Oh, hell. Snape sneered. "And what are you doing out here after curfew, Potter?"

Charlie pulled himself up to his full height and scowled almost as deeply as Snape was capable of. "Serving a detention, if you must know, Severus."

Snape raised a greasy eyebrow. "Whatever for, at ten minutes past one in the morning?"

Harry saw Charlie's jaw muscles clenched and entertained a momentary fantasy of Charlie punching Snape. "I caught them kissing behind the tapestry in the Charms corridor yesterday around this time. I thought their detention should be served at the same hours."

Harry nearly choked. That was not the sort of thing he wanted his most hated professor knowing about, even if it weren't true. Ginny's face was a very horrible shade of red. He felt miserable. She would surely be teased far worse than he was if Snape told his Slytherins…

"Oh really?" he asked, practically oozing. "I thought Potter was supposed to be in the Hospital Wing- perhaps he caught something from young Miss Weasley…"

Harry very seriously contemplated using physical violence on his Potions teacher. Ginny, too, was having a hard time containing herself, although it looked more like she was going to cry than knock Snape into the next decade. I'll kill him, Harry decided. I don't care what they do to me, I'm going to kill him.

But Charlie's icy voice beat him to the punch. "That was uncalled for." He turned to the two of them. "You two can go now. Your detention has been served. Sirius will walk you back to the castle."

Snape left Sirius a wide berth as the three of them plus Leon exited the cottage.

"I hate him," Harry exploded as soon as they were out of hearing range of the hut. "He's such a stupid, slimy-" He cursed colorfully. Sirius also said nothing, and Ginny wouldn't even look at him. "I can't believe even Snape would say something that…"

Sirius sighed. "He's been known to say worse things, Harry." But he didn't elaborate.

Sirius left them at the doors to the castle, unable to continue because he didn't have the Hogwarts identification bands that they did. Harry and Ginny made it back to Gryffindor Tower without further incident, Harry being too tired to go all the way back to the infirmary. They said their awkward goodnights and headed for their respective dormitories. But Harry stopped halfway up the steps and turned around, not knowing quite what he was doing. "Ginny?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you go to the ball with me?" He made very sure that he wasn't talking so fast that he'd have to repeat himself.

The sudden silence nearly killed him. Then, "Yes. I will."

The dreams that night had nothing to do with Avalon or Voldemort.

*

She was still lying there, fast asleep on the couch, when Sirius got home early that morning. He'd already put Leon to bed (not before double- and triple-checking the extra wards he'd put up over the past few days) and although he had been unable to do anything but watch him sleep for a long while, Sirius knew that he had to wake Anya right away and tell her the good news. But he didn't know if he could. It was almost the same thing that made him able to watch Leon sleep for hours without so much as moving, but with so many subtle little differences that it wasn't really the same thing at all. So, without really knowing what he was doing, Sirius knelt down by the sofa and brushed a lock of dark chestnut hair away from Anya's face. "Hey," he whispered, "wake up."

Anya's eyes opened slowly, pupils large in the darkness, not the least bit disoriented. "Sirius. When did I fall asleep, how could you let me sleep, and is there any news?"

"Leon's home," Sirius said by way of an answer. Nothing else needed to be said. Everything was subordinate to that at the moment.

Anya closed her eyes again at this, and Sirius caught such obvious signs of pain and relief on her face that it nearly broke him, too. He knew she was crying. "Take me to him."

So he helped her stand, making sure the afghan stayed securely about her shoulders- it was an abnormally draughty night, even for Dromore House- and they walked to Leon's bedroom and Anya, too, watched the child sleep. He didn't notice at the time that he'd slipped his arm around her waist as they were walking, but it was hard to ignore when he felt Anya lean back against him as they stood there. "How?" Anya asked after a long silence.

Sirius shook his head. "Ginny Weasley found him. She wasn't exactly forthcoming with details." Frankly, he wondered himself, for it was surely important, but he was having a hard time convincing himself that anything else could possibly matter after Leon was safe.

"You've been to visit Charlie, I gather." He felt her smile. "I'm surprised that the two of you get along as well as you do."

"What, you mean competing for your affection like we do?" Sirius teased, resting his head against the top of hers.

The air in the room seemed to grow a bit colder as Anya stiffened a bit in his arms, but the tense moment passed. "Never mind," he said. "I shouldn't have said anything." Acting on the first impulse he got, Sirius bent down a bit and kissed the crown of her head. "Go to bed," he murmured, vowing to do the same. "You need sleep almost as much as he does."

She looked up at him and smiled wanly. "Thank you, Sirius."

His stomach did something horribly adolescent and flip-floppy. "You're welcome."

*

Remus walked into the kitchen that morning to something completely unexpected. Leon was sitting in his highchair, contentedly throwing mushy Cheerios at Arabella, repeating something that sounded disturbingly like "Padfoot," or else a somewhat demented version of "daddy." Not only that, but Sirius and Anya were sitting at the table together, not so much as flinging bits of scrambled egg at each other. There were such goofy grins on their faces that Remus almost wondered if he had missed the crucial 'dating' part of their relationship, but knew that he would have heard if anything had happened the previous night.

"Should I ask?" he inquired, helping himself to some of the leftover scrambled eggs and bacon and filling his coffee mug. He sat across the table from Sirius and Anya to better observe them.

"Remus, my friend, one thing I have learned in my life is never to question fate."

Remus snorted to himself. He hadn't indicated that he was talking about Leon. Neither had Sirius. Still, he didn't want to ruin the mood and so kept quiet.

An owl swooped in the window then, a snow-white one similar to Hedwig, and dropped an official-looking envelope on the table, then flew off. "What's this?" Anya picked it up, slit it open, and read it quickly. A wide smile broke across her face.

"What is it?" Sirius asked curiously, trying to snatch the parchment away. A brief, giggly playfight ensued, which ended when Sirius used the dreaded tickletorture method. He, too, read the parchment and laughed. "Well, those two certainly didn't waste any time."

Remus plucked it from Sirius' fingertips and smiled.

"Who's it addressed to?" he wondered, reaching for the envelope and turning it over. It was clearly addressed to "the Heroes and Heroines of October third," which apparently included not only Remus, Sirius, and Anya, but also Arabella and Mundungus. He was sure that Charlie and Chloë were opening a similar invitation at Hogwarts that very moment. Remus also wondered about Hallie and Jim, eventually deciding that of course they had been invited, they were practically family.

"Frankly, I think they might have saved us the trouble if they'd done that long ago," Anya said with a smile. "But trouble always does seem to bring people together." She didn't quite look at Sirius when she said that. Remus, with some effort, restrained himself from commenting. There was no use in encouraging them- they would, without a doubt, end up a thousand times worse than Anne and Bill.

He checked his watch and noted that he would be late for work if he didn't hurry, and excused himself from the table to go get ready.

*

The mail that morning brought much happier news than it had the previous day. Ron and Hermione had been filled in upon the night's events on the walk down to breakfast, although Harry had left out a few particular details that he privately thought could be dealt with on a need-to-know basis, especially where Ron was concerned. Besides, Hermione was a Prefect this year and very involved in Prefectly duties, like making sure he didn't break the rules. And he'd gotten enough questioning looks as it was concerning Ginny's visit to the hospital wing.

Thoughts turned far away from the previous night, however, when three heavy, white envelopes were dropped in front of Ginny, Ron and Harry. The four friends shared quizzical looks before pouring over the contents.

Ron looked at the invitation and laughed. "I don't believe it," he said. "Bill is finally getting married. Mum must be having a field day- she's been trying to marry him off for years!"

"Hush, you," Ginny said. "Obviously he hadn't found the right girl until now."

"I suppose not," Ron conceded, now reading through the details. "Hey Hermione, it says I'm allowed to bring a friend- I don't suppose you want to go?" Both of them turned very pink. Harry caught Ginny's eye behind Ron's back and winked at her; she grinned back.

"ER, of course," Hermione responded, trying so hard to look nonchalant that her anxiety level was completely obvious.

"Smashing." They both grinned like idiots. Harry examined his breakfast intensely. Well, he thought dryly, at least they're not trying to kill each other.

*

"That looks like pretty heavy reading."

Ginny looked up from her book, smiling as Harry took a seat beside her. "It would seem that way, wouldn't it?" She turned the page, entranced. "But it's really interesting… and has nothing to do with school. Therefore, it cannot be bad." She neglected to tell him that she was researching her- their- dreams. He would only think she was completely off her rocker.

"What's it called?"

"Gaelic legends," she answered, turning the page and glancing down at it again. She stared. There on the page… that was her and Harry, right there on the page, a lightning-bolt splitting the sky above them, and each with a nasty-looking weapon-

"Ginny?" The moment passed, and the figures were once again Aine and Galahad. Ginny blinked down at the paper, willing it back to as she had first seen it, but the illusion did not reappear. Harry pulled the book towards him. "This must really be involving." He skimmed the first few lines and removed his glasses, frowning as he wiped them on his sweater. "I thought I'd just cleaned these this morning," he said, with a fuzzy look on his face. "Guess I just-" He trailed off, examining the book sans glasses with an astonished expression on his face.

Ginny watched him curiously. What on Earth had gotten into him? He looked as if he'd seen a ghost- much as she might have, moments before. "What is it?"

Harry bit his lip, looking almost afraid to say anything. "I'd say 'eureka' and declare that I can see perfectly again… but unfortunately, the only thing I seem capable of seeing is this book."

"What?" Ginny exclaimed, wondering if she should be alarmed.

Harry looked up at her again, replacing his glasses on his nose. "I'm farsighted. And nearsighted. Damn near blind, actually. But I can read that-" he stabbed a finger at the book, "without my glasses. But with my glasses…" The troubled expression returned to his face. "It's all Gaelic to me."

Startled, they regarded each other for a moment before pouring over the book. "You're right," Ginny finally said, completely baffled. "I don't believe it."

"What do we do now?"

*

Charlie stepped inside the Three Broomsticks and felt the snowflakes on his eyebrows start melting almost immediately. It was once again freezing outside and he was tired of it. What he needed was a good defrosting.

The boisterous interior of the Three Broomsticks was a welcome change from the bitter and quiet cold of the streets. In one corner of the room, crammed as best they could into a booth meant for eight, the entire first-string Gryffindor Quidditch team plus Hermione, Alicia Spinnet, and Lee Jordan was making as much noise as humanly possible. Katie Bell was slowly growing a trunk as she sat there between the twins, and seemed to be realizing it: she pinned George back and forced some of his own peanuts into his mouth, and soon he would be sharing her fate. Ginny and Harry were trying to have a conversation, but kept getting interrupted by more of the peanuts, courtesy of Fred Weasley. One hit Harry on the nose and Ginny laughed, gathering what she could find on the table and launching them back at Fred.

Katya Stevenson, the Ravenclaw daydreamer, was sitting at the counter with two of her constant companions, her usual dreamy expression gone, a wide grin and laughing eyes in its place. Professors Flitwick, Snape and McGonagall were seated at the table by the front window, involved in their Butterbeers. And at the cozy wall booth in the back-

"Charlie!" Anya exclaimed happily, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his cheek. "I've missed you!"

He grinned. "Likewise." He gestured over her shoulder with one hand. "Decided to bring Sirius and Leon with you, I suppose?"

"Oh, you should talk about bringing guests," she chided, shaking her finger at him and shaking hands enthusiastically with the woman he had his other arm around. "You must be Chloë. Charlie's afraid to tell me about you. That's always a good sign."

Charlie felt the back of his neck growing hot. Sometimes, it was an inconvenience to be a Weasley.

"Charmed, I'm sure," Chloë answered, smiling. "Although I have to say that Charlie sure talks about you a lot, whatever that may imply."

Anya laughed and turned back to Charlie. "I like her. Treat her nice."

"Oh, definitely," he agreed, bending down to kiss Chloë. When they pulled apart, they were both smiling. "Butterbeer?" Charlie asked, leading her towards the table.

"Sounds good," Chloë agreed. "Although I do still have some shopping to do…" Charlie groaned as she watched him, a teasing expression on her face. "Well, you don't expect me to miss out on the Halloween ball, do you? Who'd be your date? None of the other teachers would have you!"

"Sad but true," Charlie admitted, then lowered his voice, "Although, can you imagine the look on Snape's face if I asked him?"

The look of horror on her face said it all, and she laughed. "I'm so glad you're not serious."

"Me too," Sirius agreed, and Charlie wondered if he knew the pun was very old, or indeed if he was just referring to the Snape part. He didn't get up to greet them, as Leon had his fingers tangled in his hair. "How're you two doing?"

"Can't complain," Charlie answered with a grin, amused to see Chloë blush.

"That much was fairly obvious," Sirius commented dryly. "I seem to recall someone mentioning something about Bill and Anne being attached at the hip, and look how that ended. Or rather, began."

Chloë mock-glowered at him. "Quiet, you." But she winked discreetly at Charlie and squeezed his hand under the table. Another piece of him melted. "Besides, you really shouldn't talk about being attached at the hip. Or, indeed, anywhere."

"She has a point," Charlie said. "We aren't the ones living together, albeit in denial."*

"Who, us?" Anya asked demurely. "Surely you jest. I can't recall denying anything." She and Sirius shared a wink of their own.

Interesting, Charlie thought, raising a mental eyebrow. Maybe they weren't quite denying everything anymore. Which was good. It wasn't healthy, anyway.

The moment was interrupted by another outburst of laughter across the room- at the table where his siblings were sitting, both Ginny and Harry were blushing furiously with rueful but very obvious grins on their faces, while Ron and Fred were both looking a little between shocked, angry and wary. George, though, seemed to be reserving judgment on whatever-it-was; Charlie would talk with him later to find out what was going on.

"What do you suppose is going on between his sister and your godson?" Chloë asked mildly, a playful light in her eyes.

Sirius shook his head. "I'm not sure exactly what it is about this winter, but magic and romance both seem to abound." He glanced over at Anya again, but she was steadily avoiding his gaze.

Even more interesting. So she can dish it out without flinching, but can't take it? Charlie had to work to restrain his mind from coming up with devious little ways to get more details out of his friend. She hated that, at least when the details were about her.

"Anyway," Sirius continued, "he deserves some happiness if any of us does." Now he was avoiding Anya's gaze, too. Something was going on between them- or had, Charlie amended- that had scared and scarred them both badly. But what?

He didn't have a chance to ask, because Rosmerta appeared at that instant to take their orders, and the mood and thread of conversation were lost. But Charlie never forgot what he'd intended to ask, just saved up the question for a more appropriate date.

*

Harry Potter could not remember ever having been so nervous- not the previous year when he had asked Cho Chang, his onetime crush, to the Yule Ball, not at any point during the Triwizard Tournament, and not when he'd been certain Malfoy was about to set a creature from the Chamber of Secrets on the entire school.

He was taking Ginny Weasley, who was, as Ron had reminded him that day in Hogsmeade, Ron's little sister, to the Halloween Ball. In fact, he was supposed to meet her in the common room in less than ten minutes, and was really ready to go… except, emotionally, he wasn't sure if he could handle it. He had asked her to the Ball, which meant no escape if he did something extremely stupid- he certainly wasn't going to leave her alone.

Harry finally forced himself to stop fidgeting with the hem of his dress robes- a soft black material, as he'd already outgrown his robes from the previous year- and made his way down the stairway to the common room. The butterflies in his stomach turned to lead. I can't believe I'm doing this.

But he was. The trepidation built- there was almost no one in the common room; most couples had either already left or decided to meet somewhere else to avoid congestion in the Gryffindor common room. Fred was just stepping out of the portrait hole with Angelina, enormous and enamored and probably dangerous grins on both of their faces. Harry wondered how they could be so comfortable together when he constantly felt that he was treading on eggshells. There was a twinge of guilt for being preoccupied about something so trivial when there were other, much more important things that he should be worrying about-

"Wow," he breathed, fully aware that he was blushing. He wished he could say something more substantial, but words seemed to be failing him. "I mean," he amended, seeing that he was not the only one that seemed to be stained a permanent scarlet, "you look… wow."

Ginny looked up at him and, blush fading, managed a grin that made his knees wobbly. "Thanks," she said, her voice a lot steadier than his had been. "The sentiment is mutual." She bit her lip, "Shall we go?"

They did.

*

"Okay, what's eating you?" Chloë asked in his ear. They were dancing to some unnamable song, a rather nondescript one, and it was only just possible to find the beat properly.

"Mmm, nothing," Charlie replied, semi-distractedly, twirling an escaped lock of her hair around his index finger. "Just thinking…" He could see his sister and her date over the top of Chloë's head and while he was happy that she'd finally gotten her wish, there was something…

Chloë pulled back a bit, searching his eyes with her emerald ones. This immediately drew his attention from his sister: she could wait, and if Harry misbehaved, Charlie could beat him or give him detention later. "I don't believe that for one minute." She smiled. "You wouldn't be contemplating the messy demise of one Harry Potter, would you?"

He smiled ruefully and pulled her close again, resisting the urge to close his eyes and bury his face in her hair. "You know me too well."

"Never," she replied, kissing him in what she undoubtedly knew was a very sensitive spot behind his jawbone. "Don't ruin this for your sister. Harry's a good kid; he'll behave himself."

"You're right. There are other things to worry about." Although he didn't particularly want to think about those, either. Tonight was a night for enjoying himself, and damned if his social life wasn't damaged enough already. At some point, Charlie realized that Harry and Ginny were no longer present in the Great Hall, but he was far too busy at the time to think anything of it.

The situation might have been different, had he known where they were.

*

"Time for a break," Ginny called, stepping a little away from Harry. "Julianne's horrible Muggle heels are killing my feet." She noted with some degree of gratefulness that this year, her date was not the cause of the foot pain.

"Take them off," Harry suggested with a grin. "I'm not ready to give you up yet."

She tried hard not to giggle and/or blush. It annoyed her to no end when other girls did those things. Instead, she just smiled. "Let's go for a walk instead, then. Maybe by some miracle my feet will become immune to these torture devices."

"Here's hoping," Harry said gamely, and (somewhat awkwardly, Ginny noticed with some degree of giddiness) took her hand. It was like she'd come into very close contact with pixie dust- her fingers zinged, her blood pounded, and she suddenly felt warm all over. It was a very stimulating sort of holding hands.

Although technically they weren't allowed outside, they ended up there anyway, standing on the steps of the castle and watching the Aurors go about their business below. Only the occasional shadow could be seen- they didn't exactly advertise their presence with lighted wands, and more often that not wore Invisibility Cloaks after dark.

What had been a thick layer of snow had dwindled to a light mantle over the grounds; where unmarred by footsteps it seemed as if it could be several inches deep, although it was barely more than one. Ginny shivered involuntarily, but the warm tingly feeling returned tenfold when Harry wrapped his arms around her in a sort of awkward almost-hug.

"Ginny?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, lowering his gaze noticeably.

Oh my dear God, Ginny thought. He's going to… She realized an answer was expected of her. "Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Their noses were almost touching. "Oh, I hope so."

*

"I think the party's over," Charlie observed. The clock on the wall read just past one-thirty. Professors Snape and McGonagall had managed to shoo everyone out of the Great Hall, and Dumbledore had put in a short appearance in his dressing gown and tiger-striped Muggle slippers that growled when he walked to clean up the whole mess with a single sweep of his wand.

"Is it?" Chloë answered from behind him, her arms encircling his waist. He suppressed a shiver as she rested her head between his shoulderblades.

"Maybe not," he said, suddenly very keenly aware that they were the only two left in the Great Hall. Extricating himself from her arms, he turned around and took her hands, resting his forehead against hers. "Am I to take it that this party has your permission to continue?" A teasingly soft kiss on the lips, chin, along her jawbone, neck, throat, was that her pulse or his that was racing? Both made more sense.

"Yeah, but I'd say this party had better move to a more remote location," she gasped out, "and um… that feels wonderful, but you might want to censor that because presumably there are other amorous couples wandering the corridors-"

He silenced her with a kiss, and this time he wasn't teasing. "We'll just have to be careful, then, won't we?"

"You think I can be careful?" she asked breathlessly with a gleam in her eye.

"I guess we'll find out, won't we?"