Harry Potter and the Dance of the Warrior

Chapter Five: The Invitation

Harry Potter lay in his bed; actually he lay in Sirius's bed, trying desperately to get some long overdue sleep. His body was oh-so-tired--bone-weary, actually--but his mind was racing. He couldn't help but recount the day's events, starting with the ministry hearing, the accusations against him and his apparently 'brilliant' performance in his defense. Dumbledore had said that he had gained allies today, and made people sit up and take notice.

Harry just didn't see it, what did he do that was so special. 'Maybe I should finally use the extremely expensive Pensieve I bought.'

His thoughts hung on that thread for a time. He had stored every battle he had ever been in or witnessed except for the last in the Pensieve. His plan was to study each conflict and see what he could have done differently, such as if there had been a chance to save Cedric, or to save Sirius. He was actually very frightened of the prospect of seeing the last two. Harry knew he would do this soon, but he was dreading it. Tomorrow he would put the trial in it, and examine it as an observer. Maybe then he could see what all the fuss was about.

His mind drifted again to today's trip to St. Mungo's...

Harry exited a large plain fireplace at the main entrance to the wizarding hospital in time to see his headmaster Apparate right in front of him. And a lucky thing it was, as Harry was so tired he lost his balance and was heading for a nasty spill when Dumbledore's wiry arm caught him. Walking to the reception desk was a very similar experience to his earlier one at the Ministry. Perhaps a bit more extreme--the combination of a battered and bruised Harry Potter and the commanding presence of Albus Dumbledore made the quiet quieter and amplified the muttering and expressions of awe.

They arrived at the desk together, Dumbledore with a firm grip on Harry's upper arm. The same blonde witch sat behind the counter as the last time Harry was here, to visit Mr. Weasley. Her back was to them as she chatted away with the portrait of former healer and former Hogwarts Headmistress Dilys Derwent.

The portrait's eyes went wide when she saw Harry, who gave her a small smile and a slight wave, then shifted her gaze to Dumbledore and gave him a reproachful look.

Harry leaned over to his headmaster and whispered, "Looks like Dilys is going to give you an earful when she gets you alone."

Dumbledore chuckled softly and leaned close to reply in a whisper, "Yes, the portraits in my office are rather fond of you Harry, even after your last visit there. I led Dilys to believe that you were merely scratched up a bit." He sighed, then continued, "Yes, I will be hearing all about this later."

At this moment the medi-nurse behind the counter turned around and gasped at the pair in front of her. She spoke a little breathlessly. "Oh, excuse me, Professor Dumbledore, sir, and--" She gasped. "Harry Potter, oh my...."

Dumbledore smiled. "Ms. Patience, how good to see you again, dear. I wonder if Healer Pomfrey is available this late in the day?"

"Oh, uh, yes sir, I will send someone to see. If you and Mr. Potter would like, you can wait on the fourth floor, the benches in the hall are quite comfortable, and that is the level which Healer Pomfrey usually is working."

Harry looked up at the floor guide and saw that the fourth floor was for spell damage. That was the level of highest care. He really didn't think he needed that much help, but if that was where Healer Pomfrey was...

"Sir," Harry said softly as they walked towards the lift, "is Healer Pomfrey...."

"Yes, Harry, during the summer holidays Madam Pomfrey is known as Healer Pomfrey; she works here and takes seminars on new magical medical processes. She really doesn't get all that much practice during the school year," he chuckled. "With the exception of you, of course."

Harry smiled sadly. 'Yes, how many times was I nearly killed...' he thought.

As they walked to the lift Harry chanced a look back to see everyone in the reception area staring at them. He couldn't suppress a small sigh. Once up on the fourth floor, Harry sat himself down on the bench with a soft groan. They sat in silence for several minutes when a very attractive young witch came hurrying up to them.

"Please excuse me for taking so long, Professor Dumbledore. I am Trainee Healer Margaret Thomas. I just left Healer Pomfrey, she is with a patient right now. A very serious case actually, she will need about an hour before she can see Mr. Potter." She glanced at Harry and blushed slightly. "She said she will understand if you'd like to see another Healer, but hopes that you'll wait for her."

"Well, Harry, it is up to you," said his Headmaster kindly.

Harry replied to the young, dark haired, dark eyed witch with his sad smile still in place. "An hour is fine. I'll wait for Madam, er, Healer Pomfrey. She's put me back together so many times she could probably do in blind-folded by now." He tried for humor again today, and failed yet again.

The Trainee Healer gave him an odd sad smile and nodded. "Fine, Mr. Potter, we will be back as soon as we can." She hurried back down the hall from where she came.

"Since we have a bit of a wait, I will drop in on a couple of colleagues, and check on Mundungus--that is, if you don't mind, Harry?"

"No sir, I don't mind, please give him my, er, best wishes." Harry was actually glad of it. He was so tired now, he really didn't want to talk, he just wanted to sit quietly for a while.

As his headmaster strode away, Harry absently picked up an issue of the Daily Prophet someone had left. He noticed it was the one with the headline, Potter Attacked!!! Harry sighed again, and forced himself to read it through. He hadn't read this article yet, he had been avoiding it, but he mused, 'Should keep an eye on what they are saying about me.' He finished the article quickly, and was slightly surprised. It was very well written and concise, without Rita's usual fabrications and meandering.

Harry closed his eyes, and leaned his head back to the wall. He began an exercise he learned this summer. He was opening his mind, letting it drift around him. He was training his mind and magic as another sense. Something like a second sight. Letting his mind open up this way, and training his magical seeing sense it would get stronger. Eventually he wouldn't need this trance-like state to sense most of what was around him. Though it would take him years to get to that strength level. After several moments his mind began to see the magic going on all around him. There were the very strong permanent charms and wards that killed germs and airborne disease throughout the hospital. He felt and saw remnants of curses and healing magics coming from all around him. Magic was very pretty observed in this way, but the openness in his mind also transmitted the fear and hurt all around him as well. Practicing this here may not have been the best idea, as there was far too much sensory input. He was still very new at this skill and he was beginning to be overwhelmed. When he trained at the Dursley's he was in his trunk, where there was magic present, but nowhere as at the same level as here.

Harry was about to break off his trance-like state when he felt a soul in anguish. He had never felt anything like this; he felt his heart breaking and did not know the reason. He began to focus his mind, a procedure he had read about, but never tried before. Blocking out all other information, one step at a time, as he had read about, he began to search for this pain. After several minutes, he felt terror and sadness barely contained. The person was close, very close; he felt tears forming beneath his closed lids. The person was in the room right behind him. Something welled up inside him; he had to help this tortured soul.

Harry broke the trance, standing up much too quickly. With a groan he nearly fell back onto the bench. Clutching the staff with both hands he regained his composure. Quickly wiping the back of his hand across his eyes, he made his way to the door. He paused as he reached it, and heard through the door, soft crying and occasional whimpering. He knocked softly, hearing a slight yelp. Slowly opening the door he saw a tiny young girl, curled up at the head of the bed, cowering away from him behind a pillow.

Harry felt his heart tearing out as he realized he was scaring her even more. He spoke softly, "I'm sorry little one; I didn't mean to frighten you. I heard you crying and I wanted to see if you needed any help."

The little girl, who had the face of an angel, Harry thought, was looking wide-eyed at him but still said nothing. She was tiny, very thin and pale, with long sandy hair.

Harry continued in his quiet comforting voice, "Are you in pain? Would you like me to get a healer for you?"

The little angel looked even more frightened and quickly shook her head, but said nothing. So she was terrified by the healers, and perhaps a bit by his bruised face. 'I wonder why she's here all by herself?'

"I have some time before my Healer is ready, would you like some company till then?"

She still looked terribly frightened, but the prospect of not being alone seemed to be something she couldn't easily refuse.

He had to do something...a joke maybe...he wasn't in much of a joking mood, though...she's frightened of my face. . . the bruises. . . "I hope my face doesn't scare you too much," he said in a mock serious voice. "Trust me, I'm much uglier when I'm not all purple-y."

He found a way, the proof? Soft giggling coming from behind the big, fluffy, white, pillow, but she was still hiding behind it. He needed something more. He had no clue as to what to do--and then it came to him, so obvious that he felt stupid. She was a wizarding child, she had grown up with stories of. . .

"By the way, little one, my name is Harry. Harry Potter."

The little angel gasped and the pillow came down from before her. She was looking at him intently now, eyes wide, searching his face. Harry remembered the long hair that obscured his forehead. He tossed his head, the hair flipping back.

"Wow," said an awestruck little voice.

'Well maybe this bloody scar is good for something,' he thought. Harry smiled at the young girl and said in a friendly voice, "Well, you never answered me, would you care for some company?"

All he got in return was a vigorous nod. Her face still held that awestruck look. His staff clunked as he made his way over to a chair near the bed. Suppressing a groan he sat slowly in it. Now for the next task, breaking away the awe. "So little one, you still haven't told me your name." He paused, then. "Or is that why you are here in St. Mungo's. Cat got your tongue?" Harry's eyes were twinkling, his mouth smiling gently.

Another giggle, then Harry soon learned that her name was Annabelle. She was ten years old, and she had a six year old brother. Her mother had gone off to pick him up from the sitters. Harry told her all about school, and told her that he was not the 'greatest wizard' in the world. He explained very patiently that the world's greatest wizard was the Professor Dumbledore. She didn't look convinced, though. Harry assured her the first time she saw him she would know it too. Annabelle told him she was on the list to be a first year at Hogwarts next September, but she was doubtful she would be able to attend. Harry was shocked when Annabelle casually explained that she had been sick for most of her young life. Harry's heart was breaking as this tiny little angel with such a sweet voice spoke so matter-of-factly of her illness, which no healer could seem to classify. She spoke of endless test and scans, of potions that burned her mouth and throat, of 'scary people' always poking and prodding her. Her parents owned a wizarding apothecary and were fairly well off, but by no means wealthy. They spent most of their money bringing in healers from around the world to no avail. They spoke for nearly half an hour, with her doing most of the talking. It seemed that Annabelle was warned that this trip to St. Mungo's was to be a longer one, for supposedly more extensive tests. Her tone said she was frightened; she seemed to think she wasn't ever going to leave this place. Alive anyway.

Harry didn't like the way this conversation was progressing. He didn't like what he was feeling from this girl--she was bright and sharp, and the bravery that led her up to now was inspiring to him. Now, though, her strength seemed to be waning. Fear was beginning to assert itself. He spoke in a commanding voice.

"Listen to me little one." His tone softened a bit when he saw to his chagrin that she was a bit too startled. "You must remember one thing: you must never stop fighting. If we ever give up then all is lost." He smiled gently at her.

She looked at him wide-eyed, like she wanted to believe, wanted to hope

"We've been chatting all this time, little one, haven't you wondered what happened to my face?" he said.

She didn't look up at him. He could sense she wanted to, but couldn't seem to ask. "Would you like me to tell you?"

She nodded, but still didn't look at him.

He told her a brief story of his cousin's abduction, with a brief description of the duel. He made sure to tell of his fear, and how he kept going until the Aurors showed up to help. When he was done her eyes were wide, staring at him open-mouthed. 'Hope I didn't frighten her. I tried hard not to.' Harry really didn't have much experience with children, besides when he was one. Come to think of it though, much of the memories of him being the same age as she, that was, pre-wizard and pre-Hogwarts were less easy to remember as time went by.

He asked her in the same quiet voice, "Do you understand why I told you this story, Annabelle?"

Her face was still a mask of awe. She responded breathlessly, "You never gave up, they wanted to hurt you, and you never stopped fighting, no matter how ascared you were."

He smiled broadly at her, eyes twinkling like twin emeralds. "Always remember, little one..." He never finished that thought as he heard a sound from the open doorway.

A woman's voice, a combination of a shriek of anger, mixed with despair said, "What are you doing in my daughter's room?" she demanded. "What kind of place is this, where any hooligan can just sit here alone with my defenseless baby?" There were tears in the voice now; she was clutching the little boy to her side with desperation.

Harry rose from the chair to try to explain to this woman, who seemed exhausted and very much on edge--perhaps rightly so with the way he looked. He never got the chance to speak, though.

Annabelle's voice, strong and loud for the first time since he got there, spoke up now. "Momma, stop it, Harry's not going to hurt me. He's my friend and he's has been keeping me company." She was up on her knees now, pillow forgotten, color returning to her pale cheeks.

The girl's mother was shocked, and more than pleased at the life her daughter was showing. Harry guessed it had been quite some time since she displayed this side of herself.

Harry spoke now. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I never meant to cause anyone any bother, Mrs. Uh...."

"Perhaps I should introduce myself first," he spoke quickly. "I apologize again ma'am." He offered his hand. "I'm Harry Potter, please excuse my appearance. I'm obviously still waiting for my healer." He ended with a small grin.

She looked startled at his name, and the little boy's mouth was hanging open. She was staring at him without saying a word. He lifted the front of his hair to show the well-known proof. "Well, oh dear. . . I'm sorry Mr. Potter, I mean, I didn't recognize. . ."

Harry smiled, "Please, call me Harry, and it is me who should apologize again. I understand your anxiety. Annabelle and I were having a lovely chat. We were discussing Hogwarts, and she's most excited to be going." He smiled at the little angel, who returned the smile. "Right, little one?"

"Yes, Momma, Harry was telling me all about it. He told me the Headmaster is the greatest wizard in the world, not him. I'm not sure if I should believe it, though."

Apparently Annabelle's mum was very distressed at her daughter's loss of hope, and this new light was bringing tears to her eyes. With an emotion-strained voice she said, "It's true, love. Dumbledore is a great man and a great wizard."

Annabelle's eyes widened at the doorway, Harry's eyes followed her gaze. There, framed in the doorway, stood the venerable headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

Eyes twinkling and beard twitching, he said with laughter in his voice, "Harry, I wish you wouldn't build me up so to incoming students. It's bad enough that they can't talk to me without stuttering till the fifth year even without your help."

Harry chuckled.

Annabelle's mother whirled around, and cried in delight, "Professor Dumbledore! Oh, how wonderful to see you."

Dumbledore bowed slightly and took her hand. "It has been far too long, Miss Perrin, although I'm not certain that title is accurate any longer."

The formerly distraught woman was now smiling broadly. "No sir, actually it's Mrs. Masters now."

"Ahh. Masters as in Eric Masters, former Hogwarts prefect and Quidditch captain of Ravenclaw?"

"The very one. Oh my, this is an exciting day, I'm all out of breath, seeing you and Harry Potter within moments...." She really did sound breathless.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, we are quite the pair, but alas Harry and I must take our leave. The healer is ready for him, and I'm sure she is most anxious to get her hands on her favorite patient," he said, with a smile at Harry.

"Well, little one, it has been great meeting you..." Harry began, but paused as he saw her face fall. A quick thought came to him. "Mrs. Masters, would you mind terribly if I wrote to Annabelle? You know I have to keep her up on all the gossip at school so she's properly prepared for next year." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Annabelle's face light up again, and her mother was positively beaming at him.

"Oh, of course Harry, I wouldn't mind at all," she said enthusiastically. It was obvious she hoped that letters from him could keep her little girl's spirits up.

"Well then, Annabelle, I'll be talking with you soon. Oh, when you see a big beautiful snowy white owl coming, that would be my Hedwig. You'll be sure to tell her how pretty she is, ok?"

She smiled and nodded at him, and he and Dumbledore bowed themselves out of the room.

Harry and his Headmaster were halfway down the hall when Dumbledore spoke. "That was a very nice thing you did in there with that child, Harry. I've heard about her, she's been sick for quite some time."

Harry replied sadly, "Well I figured maybe my name and my scar could actually do something besides get me into trouble. Is it true they really don't know what's wrong with her?"

Dumbledore nodded somberly, "Might I ask how you found yourself at that girl's bedside?"

Harry was quiet for a moment. He didn't want to discuss most of his studies, but this, he could talk about. It was something he could get advice about. He spoke softly, almost shyly. "I've been training my 'Sensing' skills. I was in a slight trance, bad idea to do it here though. Too much input. I was about to break off when I felt overwhelming sadness and fear." He paused and finished, "I had to do something."

They had paused in the middle of the hall, Dumbledore giving Harry the customary piecing gaze. Dumbledore was a powerful wizard, his sensing skill beyond measure--he saw a young man in front of him, trying to cope with so much, trying to live up to the burden he himself placed on him at the time Harry was at his lowest. He decided not to pry too much into Harry's work; he hoped to get him to come out on his own. Perhaps this was the start.

He nodded softly and said, "When you return to school, try walking in the halls early in the morning, before everyone is awake. There will be a lot of sensory input, but without people awake you should be able to handle it. As you know, the school is laced throughout with spells, and it looks quite lovely to the mind's eye." He gave Harry a small smile and continued, "If you wanted to ask me about anything you see I'm sure we could find time for it."

Harry nodded gratefully, and they continued down to the last room in the hall.

As they reached the last doorway at the end of the hall Harry heard a stern voice calling out, "Harry Potter, can't I let you out of my sight for even the summer holidays?"

Harry heard the concern behind the stern voice, and couldn't help but grin. He replied, "Sorry Madam, er, I mean Healer Pomfrey; the headmaster told me your summer holidays were a bit dull, so I thought I'd send you a little business."

She snorted in reply as she pulled him into the examination room. "As if the Death Eater you sent wasn't enough."

Poppy Pomfrey turned her attention to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, if you'll excuse us for a short while...."

"But of course Poppy, if you can, just send him to Jenna's office when you are finished. That is where I shall wait."

Harry was led by the arm to a bed, and said to the trainee he had met in the hall, the Healer saying, "Margaret, may I introduce my best customer at school. This is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Margaret, a very talented trainee healer."

Margaret Thomson blushed slightly at the compliment. "Yes, Poppy, we met in the hall, though I didn't know he was your best customer," she said, trying to hide amusement or confusion.

Harry spoke now. "I'm not sure if being your best customer is a compliment or a criticism," he said with a sly voice. He truly liked this woman. She was always kind to Harry throughout his many stays under her care.

She 'hrmffed' before saying with a sigh, "Oh it's a little of both, Harry. By the way you are moving I can see it is more than your face that is injured. Now why don't you take off your robes and we shall see what you've done to yourself this time."

Harry blushed slightly. He hesitated, 'after all," he thought, 'There's a really pretty young woman that he didn't standing near him,' he finally said, "Uh, I might need some help with that. . ."

She looked at him curiously. One eyebrow rose. "Why is that, Harry?"

"Uh, I have at least two broken ribs, ma'am," he said quietly.

"Harry, do you mean to tell me you've been walking around with broken ribs for days!" she said very loudly.

"I took care of them best I could, and they don't hurt all that much if I don't move too much," he said defensively.

She sighed loudly now, "Harry, with broken ribs there is always the serious chance of internal bleeding."

"I know, and I check twice a day to make sure there isn't any."

She looked at him again curiously, a smile twitching the corners of her mouth. "I did not realize you had any healer's talent, Harry."

"As you said, I am your best customer, and since I'm away from school I thought I'd better learn to do some things myself."

She gave him a hesitant, but approving nod, but it was Margaret who spoke. "Is that what the purple scabs are? I've never seen anything like that, and I'm sure I've not read anything about it either."

Healer Pomfrey answered before he could. "Yes, Margaret, a very old form of magical first aid, very effective on smaller wounds." She turned to Harry and said, "You are lucky there weren't any deep wounds. I don't think you'd be able to close them with this technique."

"No, Madame Pomfrey, I know I wouldn't be able to. Falcore closed the most serious ones."

"Falcore, Harry?" She paused and said, "I'm sorry, I know you're dealing with matters of your own safety, you don't need to tell me who he is."

Harry smiled softly and replied, "In this case, it's quite alright. Falcore is my phoenix."

Both women gasped, eyes going wide. They both seemed to know the implications of having a phoenix. Or was it just that they knew about the legendary healing powers if this rare magical creature?

After several moments of thoughtful silence the Healer in charge spoke. "Margaret, please help Harry off with his robes."

Harry was trying desperately not to blush. Healer or not, this was a lovely young woman undressing him, like Ginny had, three nights ago--though this time, he had no jeans on his legs. In moments all he was wearing was black boxers and his shoes. Which is where he kept his eyes focused on--seemed easier not to blush by doing this.

Healer Pomfrey tutted and Margaret gasped . The welts and bruises actually looked worse after three days rather then better. Injuries caused by magic usual took longer to heal than normal ones

After a moment Poppy spoke. "You wrapped your ribs and leg yourself?"

Harry nodded.

She gave him an approving nod in return. "You studied it all on your own?"

"Yes, ma'am. Since all the books I read said it's quite mad to try proper healing on yourself, I, uh, had to find alternate ways of caring for things."

"Too right Harry, but I wonder if that stopped you from learning a bit of healing anyway," she said with a smile in her voice.

Harry replied shyly, "Uh, yes, a bit Madam Pomfrey, just some old techniques for general healing."

Poppy Pomfrey was obviously very interested in hearing about the old forms Harry had learned, but must have realized this wasn't the best time to ask. But she couldn't resist asking, "And did you have any chance to try out what you studied?"

"Uh, there was a bird, with a broken wing...."

She smiled softly at him. "If you have time during the school year, you come down to my office and we'll have a lovely long chat, ok, Harry?"

Before Harry could answer, he saw Margaret scrunch up her nose as she was closely inspecting the purple scab on his shoulder.

Harry blushed more. "Sorry about that, it's this salve I mixed...." He paused as Pomfrey held up a hand to stop him.

She leaned in and sniffed. She also scrunched up her nose, though not as much as Margaret had. "Very, very good Harry. This is a very old type of salve, works far better than the newer ones."

Margaret looked curiously at Madam Pomfrey, "It's called the Doleo Cesso unguent. The reason it's not still used is because the ingredients are much more expensive, and the brewing is much more difficult."

She smiled at Harry again. "I didn't realize you were a young potions master also, Harry."

Harry flushed at the compliment, but was slightly bemused. It was a difficult potion to brew, but working alone in his chamber he had no real problems with it. Why did it seem like everyone was praising every little thing he did...?

After twenty minutes or so Harry was giving his thanks to the healer and her trainee, and bowing himself out the room. He promised to them both that he would be careful. He walked with a slight bounce to his step, carrying the staff lightly. Madam Pomfrey insisted he take a small dose of Pepper Up potion so, for the moment anyway, the considerable fatigue he felt was forgotten.

He met Dumbledore at the end of the hall. "Harry, perhaps it would be safer to leave here with no one seeing you leave."

Harry looked at his Headmaster, confused for a moment. "But sir, I can't Apparate yet, and besides, there are Anti-Apparition wards over most of this place." Harry paused for a second, then whispered, "Do you mean to set up a Portkey?" Harry was a little startled. Had he seen those types of wards without realizing it till now?

He got no response for a rather long moment. His headmaster was giving him that penetrating gaze again, "Very good Harry, you caught them very quickly considering, forgive me, but you are rather a novice at this skill." Dumbledore smiled at him, and continued, "I could create a portkey. . . though there isn't a need for it," he continued after seeing Harry's blank look, "Harry don't you have a little friend that can help you with this problem?"

Harry continued to look blankly at Professor Dumbledore for several long minutes before his eyes widened and mouth hung agape. How could he have forgotten? He had seen Dumbledore do the same thing from his office only months ago. He whispered, "You...you mean Falcore?"

At his name the Phoenix in question arrived with a flash of fire to land softly on Harry's now-unbruised shoulder.

Harry stood shocked for a moment before checking the hallway for any people. Seeing no one, he spoke softly to the brilliant bird, "Can you take me back to Grimmauld Place, Falcore?"

"Harry--concentrate now, send your thoughts to Falcore, visualize exactly where you want him to take you." Dumbledore still spoke in the same almost-whisper.

Before Harry could respond, he felt like he was covered in fire, but it didn't frighten him. The moment it began, he felt an overpowering sense of love. It was an unfamiliar feeling, of being totally safe and protected. Safe in the bosom of this beautiful, fiery creature that would remain unflinching loyal to him till the end of his days.

The ride was over in a split second, but the feeling stayed with him as he opened his eyes to find himself in the living room off the kitchen exactly as he had visualized. Falcore still sat contently on his shoulder; he still felt the love and trust emanating from the bird. Harry was in the exact spot where he saw Ginny when he had first arrived here. He was almost disappointed she wasn't curled up on the same chair. He heard the sounds of many voices coming from the kitchen. He propped the walking stick in a corner and started over to the door, but he hadn't gotten more than three steps before it opened.

Ginny squealed with delight, sprinted over and threw her arms around him, catching him in a fierce embrace and planting a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Oh, Harry, you look wonderful!!! Oh, and WOW, were you brilliant in court today!!!" She was blushing only slightly while she said this.

Harry stood there stunned for a moment. He felt his face flush slightly, but right now he didn't care. He felt incredible, perfect--for the moment everything was perfect in the world. He had accomplished everything he had wanted to today, and more, it seemed. Everyone was so proud, he impressed the wizards that needed to be, and Ginny in his arms, kissing him...this confused him to no end, but it felt so right, so...

They broke the embrace as people came flooding out of the large kitchen to see him. He saw Ginny's face beaming with pride and affection at him. His elation grew when she reached up to stroke Falcore's neck, and Harry felt Falcore's affection for Ginny too...So strange and yet so wonderful...He took her hand and she smiled broadly in return. They both turned to great the mass of people coming over to congratulate him.

Hermione came next, but then was followed by Mrs. Weasley, then Tonks, and most surprisingly, Professor McGonagall gave him a swift congratulatory hug. This was followed by Ron and the rest of the men giving him firm pats on the back. Remus went so far as to give him a rough one armed hug. This shocked Harry, and at the same time almost brought a tear to his eye. He settled on giving Remus a lopsided grin, which was embarrassingly returned.

Dumbledore was last, his eyes twinkling merrily and the corners of his mouth twitching. "Did you enjoy your trip, Harry?"

Harry looked at him, awed for a second, then said in a voice that matched his expression, "It was... unbelievable...."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ginny looking at him curiously. He didn't want to say anything here, in front of the whole Order.

"Molly, do we have some time for a short meeting before your wonderful dinner is ready?"

"Yes, Albus, and I think Harry could use a nice cup of tea after his day." She smiled fondly at Harry. The smile broadened slightly when her eyes darted down to the hands that were interlaced before her.

Ginny saw her mother noticing her hand in Harry's. She felt the flush creeping up her face and quickly tried to take her hand from his. But he wouldn't let go. Ginny was about to say something slightly rude to him. She was convinced he was just teasing her. She thought her heart would stop when she turned back to him and saw the soft smile on his wonderfully unbruised face.

'His eyes,' she thought. They were twinkling wildly. She lost herself for a moment. Her knees seemed to go weak when he squeezed her hand, and gently let go.

'He's never looked at me like that before. . .'

As she turned to walk into the kitchen she fought to get control of her heart rate, not to mention her flaming cheeks. All hope was lost when she saw Hermione's slightly wide eyes and obviously amused state. She fled the room before she got herself cornered.

The kitchen was packed with people. Harry was given an honorary position at one end of the table, opposite from Dumbledore, who was flanked by Remus and McGonagall. He had Ginny to one side and Hermione to the other, with Ron sitting rather close to her. Everyone else just squeezed in wherever they could.

After pouring Harry's tea, Molly spoke first. "Now, remember you lot, Harry's had a rough couple of days. Don't push him too much." She was ecstatic to see Harry actually unbruised and smiling. She was guessing it was far too long since that was last the case. She was afraid of it slipping away too quickly.

Harry spoke now, in a serious voice, which startled some of the people there. "I think I can get most of the questions out of the way quickly, Mrs. Weasley."

He turned to Hermione, and still in that serious voice said, "Yes, you can have a look at my copy of Merlin's notes, yes, I have been working on my own spells, no, I won't teach you my shield charm till I have it perfected, and yes, you will be one out of the first three I teach it to if I ever do perfect it." He ended with a cheeky grin, and said with a laugh, "Did I get them all, Hermy?"

The table erupted in relieved laughter as Hermione swatted his arm playfully, but rather hard. "No you didn't, and stop calling me HERMY!"

"What, good enough for Grawp, but not for me?" he said teasingly.

He glanced over at Ron, who was laughing along with Hermione. Harry saw the love in his eyes whenever they looked towards her. 'How could I ever had missed that before?' he thought.

'I really should talk to him about this. I am his best mate' He dreaded the thought of that conversation. Ron was even worse then he was when it came to feelings. But he felt it was one of his happier responsibilities.

Their head of house spoke next. "Should I even ask how you four know about Grawp?" she said in mock exasperation.

The four young Gryffindors went a bit pink. Everyone laughed when they pretended not to hear the question. Ron quickly jumped in. "So, what is your last question so we can get some in, 'Mione?"

"Yes, Hermy, I thought I'd managed all the answers," Harry said, giving her an amused grin.

Hermione shook her head, laughing. 'Brother indeed.'

"I'm telling you, Potter, if people start calling me that, I will get even!"

She glanced over at Ginny, leaned in a little and said in a whisper, "And have I got just the material for that."

Harry's slight grin opened to a broad smile before she said, "Well, the last thing I've been meaning to ask, was how did you come up with Transfiguring a tree in a duel. I mean, that was brilliant. I don't think I would ever have thought of that."

Harry's smile faded a bit, and his voice came out much softer. "That's because you've never seen the Headmaster duel, Hermione."

An instant later, Hermione placed her hand over his on top of the table, and Ginny's found its way into his underneath. Silence swept the room; everyone there knew that Harry had witnessed the entire duel between Dumbledore and Voldemort.

Molly Weasley was worried that something like this would happen. 'Harry is much too emotionally fragile right now to deal with all these things.' She spoke quickly, "I think that's all for now, dinner is just about ready. Girls, will you help me set the table, Ron get the silverware please."

She saw Harry look up at her and smile gratefully. 'He really is such a dear boy,' she thought fondly.

Bill's voice came next. "Mum, just one more thing. Harry, if you don't mind, we've all been talking about your Merlin's fire. . ." he brought up hesitantly.

Harry smiled softly and nodded. He gently took his hand from Hermy's, noticing that Ron's arm was moving under the table, looking to take her hand under the table. Harry smiled to himself and squeezed Ginny's hand softly, as he extended his other arm across the middle of the table.

A second later he was holding, not a ball of fire the size of an apple, which was the biggest he had ever conjured, but a ball the size of a cantaloupe. The color was different too--still red, but much more intense. Harry was startled. After a second he realized the room was silent around him. With a thought the ball shrunk down to apple size.

After another second he said softly, "This is about the size of the one I sent at Bella." He closed his fist around the ball; with a small blinding flash, and gasps from around the room, it was gone.

Harry was still sitting there bemused when he heard Moody growl, "Should've sent the big one at her. We might've been done with that filth."

"Alastor!" Mrs. Weasley said reprovingly.

Harry answered absently, without looking at anyone. "I was casting with my wand at the same time, Mad Eye. Besides I've never conjure one that big before." Harry realized he had just said that out loud. He knew without looking up that every eye was on him, and every mouth was open. Casting two spells at once...this is the first time Harry thought about that. He had cast two spells at the same exact moment. That was almost. . impossible. Only the most powerful wizards would even attempt it. Those who weren't powerful enough usually passed out or hurt themselves badly. He had to check his Pensive, he had to be certain.

After a moment, he ventured a look in Dumbledore's direction, and as he suspected, those blues eyes were locked on him. He couldn't bring himself to look over at his friends. . .

"Girls, dishes, now, Ron. . ." said Mrs. Weasley's stern voice. When she passed behind Harry's chair, though, she paused long enough to give his shoulder a firm reassuring squeeze.

Everyone was making pleasant conversation during the meal, so Harry began to relax again. He was told the twins were coming for a visit tomorrow night. Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione were all going to mind the shop tomorrow night, so they could come. Summer business was going so well they just couldn't afford to close up early.

The twin's coming made Harry think of something. As Ron returned with a handful of silverware he said "Ron, do you guys sell, like, a box of assorted sweets? Nothing dangerous, mind."

"Sure, Harry. We have a few different standard sizes."

He fished around for his coin purse and handed over some gold to Ron, ordering a medium sized box that the twins would bring over with them. He smiled to himself with the thought of Hedwig delivering it to a certain little angel. He would have to write Annabelle a letter tomorrow.

"Oh, one more thing, add in one of their fake wands," Harry said as an afterthought.

Ron was looking curiously at him, but hadn't responded yet, except to nod.

Harry asked Bill about the wedding and honeymoon plans, and when he was going to see Fleur. She was in Paris at her parents' home, packing all her things to bring to her and Bill's new flat, which wasn't too far away in a small wizarding community. They were going on a week-long sea cruise--apparently there was a popular wizarding cruise line. In those seven days they would cover seaports all over the world. He felt at one point that Bill was going to insist he come to the wedding, but a sharp look from Mrs. Weasley stopped him flat. Harry was glad; at least someone was paying attentions to the danger, even though he was disappointed about not going.

Towards the end of the meal Harry was talking to Moody across the table about La Roche, Mad Eye was most amused about how Harry had handled him. Tonks and Kingsley agreed, and said that the Aurors would be looking into him closely.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione taking Ginny by the arm and literally dragging her from the room. He looked over at Ron and they shared an amused and curious look.

After another fifteen minutes, Madam Pomfrey's pepper-up potion must have begun to wear off. Harry tried to fight down the huge yawns, but it was a losing battle. He had to get some sleep. Ginny and Hermione hadn't come back to the room. He bade everyone in the kitchen a good night. He received a hug and a kiss from Mrs. Weasley, and went off to see where the other two went off to.

They weren't in the living room; he went up to the next level. The drawing room door was closed, but he saw light coming from underneath. As he approached he could hear two female voices talking and giggling.

He hesitated for a moment, and then knocked. The giggling immediately stopped, then after a minute, the door swung open to reveal a rosy-cheeked Hermione.

He tried to stifle back a yawn, but failed miserably. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to interrupt your chat, but I'm beat, going to get some sleep. I just wanted to say goodnight to you and Ginny."

Hermione pulled him into the room, and said with a bit of an odd grin, "Oh you didn't interrupt. Actually we were just talking about you."

"Oh?" Harry said, eyebrows raised. He shot a glance at Ginny, who looked like she was going to either be sick or perhaps pull out her wand and start hexing. (

'HERMIONE!!! What the HELL are you doing???' thought Ginny frantically.

Harry just looked at her curiously when Hermione abruptly hugged Harry goodnight and hurriedly left the room saying, "See you downstairs, Ginny."

"Ginny, is anything wrong?" He sounded concerned.

She couldn't say anything as she was thinking frantically.

'Oh god, oh god, oh god, I'm gonna kill her. . . I can't just ask him! I'll just feel like such a fool yet again around him, he just cares for me like a friend, nothing's changed.'

'But when I kissed him. . . that's right--when you kissed him. . '

'Well, he didn't pull away, and he did kiss me the first night. . '

'You were upset, but the way he looked at me when he got back. . '

'I have to ask him, I will ask him, he said he thought I was brave and true in his letter. . ."

'I WILL ASK HIM!'

Before she could say anything, though, he came closer and said, "Gin?"

She looked up at his face now. Looking up she saw his eyes, filled with concern, and yes, she was sure of it, there was affection there. Love? Maybe, but more then she had ever seen before. She answered a little breathlessly, "No, Harry, nothing's wrong, I just wanted to ask you something."

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to the spot next to her on the sofa.

"P-please, Harry," she said nervously.

Harry sat easily; it was so nice to do that without the feeling of knives tearing at his insides. He thought Ginny was having trouble asking her question. He really hoped nothing was wrong. Maybe he should say something to make it easier for her.

"Ginny," he said very quietly, looking deep into her eyes. "I will wait as long as you need me to. I don't mind." He gave her a soft smile and continued, "You do know you can ask me anything, right?"

He was still rather bemused. 'She said nothing's wrong, I don't have a clue what this is about.'

She nodded and returned a small smile. 'I can't ask him yet. I just need a few minutes to form the words, but I have to say something. I look like an idiot.' "Harry, what did Professor Dumbledore mean about your little trip?" 'God, what the hell am I coming out with?'

Ginny noticed how Harry's whole face lit up. He hesitated a second, then leaned in. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Ginny was intrigued now. She was just buying time, but this suddenly seemed immensely interesting. She leaned a little closer too. 'I'm getting in on one of Harry's famous secrets, the first one!!!'

"You know I can Harry, I promise to keep quiet," she said a little breathlessly, as her and Harry's eyes locked again for a moment.

Harry's beaming face said, "You didn't have to promise, Gin, you know I trust you."

'Damn, I shouldn't have gotten so close, looking in her eyes this close...'

'What the hell is wrong with you, Harry??? This is your Friend Ginny!'

'Yeah the friend who hugs feel sooo...And those little kisses...'

"Uh...well, you know what powerful magical creature's Phoenixes are. You saw how Falcore healed me up...."

She nodded, not sure what he was talking about.

"Well," he said even more quietly, "phoenixes can also Apparate."

She sat there a bit confused. Harry saw her blank look and said quickly, "With a passenger... I don't think it's like regular Apparition. It was...it was amazing, I never felt anything like it; maybe I could have you try some time..."

Ginny smiled at the awed look on Harry's face. It must have been some ride to make Harry so breathless.

Before she said anything, though, Harry was gazing into her eyes intently. She seemed to be losing her breath as well. "But that's not all you want to ask me, is it?"

'She seems so nervous, must be something hard to talk about.' Harry thought he might be making it harder to talk about by sitting so close.

'Oh no, he's backing away from me. He really doesn't feel that way towards me, I'M ABOUT TO MAKE A FOOL OF MYSELF!!!'

'No, you are not backing out; you promised yourself you would ask him! He said you're brave, now prove it!!!'

"Harry, would you please escort me to Bill's wedding, there is no one I would rather go with then you." She said all this very quickly.

'You IDIOT, did you have to say that last part!!!'

She watched his face as it changed from a look of wonder, of affection, of elation, but that look faded quickly to disappointment, and sorrow, and more than a bit of fright.

His sad voice responded, "Ginny, I would lo. . . I would really like to, I would be honored to really, but...."

She heard the regret in his voice. He was frightened for all of them--'But he would want to! Yes!!!'

"Harry, I asked Professor Dumbledore what he thought. He said that he would be there, and almost the whole Order is going to be there, too. Not to mention a lot of Ministry wizards that my dad invited. He's sure it will be safe."

Harry was stunned and a bit moved, 'She actually went to Dumbledore without dying of embarrassment???

'Yes she did! Just for you, and If you say no, you are the biggest git that ever walked on the face of the world!'

Well, that was all it took. He took Ginny's hand, looked her straight in the eye, and said from his heart, "Ginny, nothing would please and honor me more than escorting you to your brother's wedding."

Her heart STOPPED! His hand was still holding hers; she could almost feel his power, his love.

'He's looking at me again like that again,' she thought breathlessly.

"Thank you," she said, almost too quietly to be heard.