Harry Potter and the Elements of Valor

Chapter Twelve - Preparations

Hermione looked around the common room, drumming her fingernails on the table as her eyes followed the last person who was taking the stairs to the dormitories. When the door closed and the common room was empty, she turned back and faced Ginny, who had not looked up.

"We're alone now," said Hermione impatiently.

Ginny sighed as she set down her quill and looked up at Hermione. "Look, I'll tell you what I know, or think I know, but you have to promise to let them alone." There was finality in her voice, as she looked Hermione squarely in the eyes.

"What choice do I have but to agree," said Hermione grudgingly.

"None," said Ginny. She looked adamant as Hermione glowered at her. A few seconds passed, and then she leaned toward Hermione and whispered, "Remember how Harry reacted to Parvati that night at dinner...when he stormed out of the castle?"

"Yes," Hermione said slowly.

"I watched him from a window. He sat by the lake for a very long time. Later, when he returned to Gryffindor tower I went to find him. He had been really restless for days. I was getting worried about him. He seemed so...sort of...lost." Her voice cracked slightly and she covered it by clearing her throat, "I found him in his dormitory room, going through some old papers."

"Go on," said Hermione with interest.

"There was a thick packet of documents on Harry's bed that were very official looking, and he was reading them. He didn't tell me what they were. I sat there with him for a while, on the pretense of reading some old letters from Sirius. I chanced a glance at Harry several times while I was reading and he was skimming through the documents. I thought they might be important from the look on his face."

Ginny paused as Colin Creevey crossed from the portrait hole to the dormitory stairs. Once the door creaked shut, she resumed, "After Harry and Ron left, after we had shown their note to Dumbledore, I went back to their room and looked through Harry's trunk. I found that packet of papers."

Hermione stared at her. "But...what does that have to do with...."

"It was Sirius's will," said Ginny.

"Harry told us all about that last year. How is any of that important?" asked Hermione.

"Did you know Sirius left Harry property?" asked Ginny.

"Number Twelve Grimmauld Place...I know," Hermione replied.

"That wasn't all. There was an old house of some sort in Scotland...another Black mansion," Ginny paused and waited, watching Hermione. "I think that's where they've gone... to work on Harry's spell." Ginny straightened while Hermione considered this.

"That would make sense, I guess. No one would think about some old moldy house in Scotland. I just don't understand why they wouldn't simply stay here?" Hermione asked, her composure shattering. "Dumbledore is here and MacNessa! They could have helped! They could at least tell Harry if he's doing it correctly or not."

"Harry and Ron need to practice that air spell thing together...alone," said Ginny patiently. She was terrified by what this turn of events portended but she was forcing herself to remain calm. No good would come from falling apart. Harry was close to attempting something supremely heroic and unimaginably dangerous. She had vowed to be no less brave than he.

She swallowed her fear and went on in a composed tone of voice. "Remember back at Godric's Hollow? Ron was the best at channeling power to Harry when he did his Elemental Magic. Neither of us was nearly as good at it, Hermione. Harry is feeling as though he has to fight Voldemort soon, before things get worse. The air spell is his best hope, but he wants the extra power he gets from Ron to do it. They can't practice here. Not really." Ginny began putting her books away. "It's too dangerous. For one thing, they might be seen. They need time to work on it...to concentrate...at least, that's what I think."

Hermione regarded her. "But...they could have told me...us..." she began. "They needn't run off in the middle of the night with no word to anyone!" Hermione's voice was quavering.

Ginny rested a hand on Hermione's arm. "I'm scared for them too," she admitted softly. "We have to let them do this their own way. It's not a game. It's real, and someone is going to die."

At these words, Hermione broke into silent sobs, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, Ron," she mumbled, before she choked back more tears.

Ginny got up from her chair and came round the table, enfolding Hermione in her arms. "No matter what else happens, Hermione, you and I have to stand by them."

Hermione had been hoping to take Ron home with her at Christmas, but finally conceded that her friends were not going to be back as soon as that, and wrote her parents the following morning, saying she was going to spend Christmas at school. Ginny had done the same. Dumbledore had already gotten Ginny to write Weasleys that Ron and Harry would be staying at school. He explained that he did not wish to deceive the Weasleys but still felt it best to keep the list of persons who knew that Harry and Ron had disappeared, to a bare minimum. He had assured Ginny that he would be the one to explain if her parents found out, or needed to be told. Ginny was able to lie convincingly at need, but on this occasion she felt mightily guilty for having done so.

The Christmas holiday came five days after Harry and Ron had left the castle. In order to keep the entire school, small though it now was, from going into an uproar, Dumbledore put out the story that both Ron and Harry had come down with Salamander Pox as the result of contact with an infected salamander down at Hagrid's cabin. No one asked any questions. Magical maladies and backfired jinxes were all too common an occurrence at the wizarding school. Everyone assumed the pair was under the care of Madam Pomfrey. Most of the students were eager to leave the depressing confines of the castle and hurried off happily to their homes and their families for the Christmas break.

The castle emptied quickly on Saturday morning. It turned out that Ginny and Hermione were the only students who were not headed home. Mrs. Weasley had sent a note to Ginny, asking her to re-consider and to bring Ron and Harry along to the Burrow. She felt that the wizarding world was much too dangerous now to avoid chances for the family to be together. Her letter made Ginny feel even worse.

~

In Scotland, in a rundown and chilly, stone manor house, Harry and Ron sank, sweating and exhausted, into two shabby old wing-backed chairs in front of the fire. They had wasted little effort making the place habitable, but had cleared one room so they had a dry, reasonably clean place to eat and sleep. In the cavernous main hall, they had removed sufficient furniture and debris so they could use it to practice.

On the small table between their chairs lay a scrap of parchment that had arrived the day after they had left the castle.

To: H

I trust this owl will find you. I do not expect a response. I will take the owl's return to me as proof that it has found you. I will handle any questions this end. Do what you must.

D

Harry and Ron had both read the note without comment when it had arrived the day after their flight from Hogwarts. The handsome owl had been sent back without a reply.

"I think... tomorrow... is Christmas," said Ron who was still slightly breathless from their last attempt.

"Is it?" asked Harry. "I didn't do any shopping this year."

Ron sniggered, "Me either." He sighed, rubbing his knees. "Bet Hermione is raving mad."

"About Christmas? You can make it up to her," said Harry quietly, staring into the fire.

"She'll be mad at both of us," said Ron. "Ginny is probably going spare too, I expect."

"I suppose... we could write them...just this once," said Harry. He had been trying very hard to block Ginny from his thoughts. She was a definite distraction. If he thought about her too long, he was afraid he'd lose his resolve and go straight back to Hogwarts.

"Do you think?" said Ron, rather hopefully. "I felt sort of bad about the way we left."

Silence fell between them as they sank into their own thoughts.

"No," said Ron slowly, after a few minutes. "You were right in the first place. No contact is best. It would just complicate matters...don't you think?"

Harry nodded, without looking at Ron. It was lonely here, and desolate. It made sending a letter seem exciting, but they had to put that sort of thing behind them...for now. Ron was right.

"You and Hermione...that night I woke up in the dormitory," began Harry, thoughtfully.

Ron flushed noticeably. "Yeah...that was some night," he said. "You know, she says I'm a much better kisser than Krum," said Ron, smiling to himself.

Harry smiled as well. Hermione certainly understood Ron. "She's the one, then?" he asked quietly, shifting in his chair so his head rested in the corner between the back and the wing. He was too tired to move.

"Ya," said Ron. "I reckon she is." There was another long pause. "And what about you and Ginny?"

Harry nodded his head, "Ya." He wanted to say more, say how he felt when he saw her running across the lawn, or how she looked when she shook back her hair, or the color in her cheeks after she'd been out flying, but he couldn't put it into words. At least none he wished to share.

They rested quietly until the warm fire put them both to sleep where they sat.

~

In her dormitory room, Ginny was too restless to sleep. She had discarded all her textbooks in turn, and was now sitting on her bed, looking dolefully around the room. Her eyes came to rest on the packet of parchment documents she had lifted from Harry's trunk days ago. Now would be a good time to return them to where she had found them, with Gryffindor tower nearly deserted.

A few minutes later she was pushing open the door to the seventh-year boy's dormitory. She'd have to stop sneaking into Harry's room, she thought to herself. The old floorboards squeaked as she padded over to where Harry's trunk stood. Ginny dropped to her knees and opened it. She pushed the bundle of papers back down to the bottom where she had discovered it. She was about to shut it again when she paused, her hand suspended over the contents of the trunk for a moment. She was overcome with a completely silly whim. She tried for a moment to shake it off, then again, what could it hurt? It would make him seem closer somehow.

Ten minutes later, Ginny was back in her own room ready to turn in. She looked at herself in the long mirror. There were no other girls in her year left in the tower so she had the room to herself. Harry's tee shirt was long enough on her to hang down several inches above her knees. She smoothed it down against her skin and climbed into bed. As she curled up under her blankets, she pulled the neck of it up to her face, breathing in his scent, and then settled down against her pillows. He wouldn't mind her having it she thought, as she drifted off to sleep.

The end of the Christmas holiday left Ginny feeling very cold. Harry and Ron had not turned up. Mum and dad had written that Ron had not sent so much as a thank you owl for their Christmas presents, nor had Harry. Mum was talking about coming to Hogwarts to see her youngest son and make sure he was all right. The time had come for Dumbledore to tell the Weasleys the truth.

Ginny went to Dumbledore's office to ask him to speak to her parents. Once she was admitted to the headmaster's office, she accepted the seat he pointed to. The grand room was full of fasinating items and was, as always, intimidating.

"Well, Ms. Weasley, what brings you here?" asked Dumbledore. He looked very thin and frail.

"Sir, it's about Harry and Ron," she began. She explained the letter from her mother and waited for Dumbledore's reply.

"Thank you, for informing me," said the headmaster. His eyes were rather misty as though his sight was failing. She waited for more.

"I shall visit the Burrow tonight and explain our deception to your parents," he said managing a smile at her. "I will take all of the blame, of course," he added in a hoarse voice.

Ginny looked at him appraisingly. "Sir," she began. "I could do it. You don't need to trouble...."

"No, thank you Ginny," said the old wizard. "I appreciate your kind offer; however, it is my place to do it, as I arranged the deception in the first place."

Ginny stood and left the beautiful office behind, descending into the cold stone hallway of the second floor. Her footsteps echoed as she headed down to dinner.

The Great Hall looked empty as Ginny entered and strode over to where Hermione was sitting. The students, now returning from break, were even fewer than before. Ginny estimated, without counting, that only about half had returned to the school.

Hermione was scanning the Evening Prophet. The front page sported a headline that reported a major attack on a Ministry of Magic holiday party. Dementors had been sent there and the melee that resulted caused another ten deaths. It explained why more students had sent their regrets, dropping out of the school term.

Winter had turned exceptionally cold. The wind whipped savagely around the castle and grounds with such force that all classes were now conducted within the castle, including Herbology. Professor Sprout had set up a makeshift greenhouse area in one of the southern facing classrooms on the first floor. This restriction to the castle made Hogwarts feel even more like a tiny closed island, cut off from the world.

Owls were having difficulty making deliveries. The Daily Prophet did not arrive everyday, to Hermione's great displeasure. The lake was frozen hard and the snow on the grounds had a hard, crunchy crust. The new, dry snow seemed to dance over the icy surfaces without finding a place to rest. The sky was constantly grey, allowing little light inside. Candles glowed in most of the classrooms, even in the mornings. Ginny began to wonder if the depressing weather were somehow Voldemort's doing.

~

"Once more, then," said Harry as he got to his hands and knees and pulled himself painfully from the floor. Ron grunted, but did not move. He continued to lay flat on the floor, panting and staring at the ceiling.

Harry waited.

"Ok," Ron said, gritting his teeth and rising for another attempt. "What happened that time?" he asked.

"We pushed it a bit too far, I think," said Harry. "That was quite a surge of magical power. Could you do that again, do you think? Maybe I could figure out how to control it."

"Can't say I know how....I'm just an instrument...like a wand or something. The magic is coming from you. I can't tell what's happening, except that it drains me."

"Never mind," said Harry forcing his voice to sound more confident than he felt. "We'll figure it out and we'll get him."

"I wouldn't have a chance against him and we both know that," said Ron, rubbing his backsides.

As they prepared to have another go, Harry felt a great emptiness. Even with Ron here, he was still the one...alone...who had to make this work.

The Weasleys appeared at school the day after Ginny had spoken to Professor Dumbledore. True to his word, he had met with them to give them the news about their youngest son and Harry. They were waiting in the Gryffindor common room when Ginny and Hermione returned from dinner. Mrs. Weasley's eyes were red and she was sniffling into a handkerchief. When she saw her daughter, she flung herself on her and began to weep. Ginny patted her while looking over her shoulder at her father.

"Now, now, Molly," he said, pulling her off Ginny gently.

"I'm sorry," began Ginny. "I wanted to tell you...."

Mr. Weasley shot her a warning look. She realized he was concerned they might be overheard.

"It's alright, Ginny. I understand," he said lowering his voice. "We just hadn't expected them to..." he started. "I didn't anticipate..." his voice cracked and he faltered. He motioned them out into the hall. Ginny, Hermione and the elder Weasleys traipsed out into the empty corridor.

"How are you two holding up?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"I'm so worried!" said Hermione at once. "Isn't there something we should be doing?"

Ginny watched her father, but didn't speak. Mr. Weasley sighed. "I'm afraid, Hermione that the die is cast. I don't think we can interfere. We don't know what they are planning, or when. I just hope they allow us to help them before they do something..."

Ginny was sure her father was about to say rash. He stopped himself and put an arm around his wife. "I think you are safe here, but you can come home at anytime you want. You too Hermione." He leaned forward and planted a kiss on his daughter's forehead, then steered Mrs. Weasley, who was too overcome to speak, toward the stairs.

Professor McGonagall rose during dinner at the end of January. She cleared her throat and called for silence. It was hardly necessary, as the room was nearly empty. "Students, I have a few announcements to make," she said in a very serious tone. "It is, I am sure, obvious that the school is now nearly deserted. There are only twenty-eight of you left. It is the wish of the staff to teach any students who desire a magical education, no matter how many or few. Due to the small numbers, we will again be re-organizing classes. The older students will receive one-on-one instruction and we will give OWLs and NEWTs as soon as students are ready for the tests. We will not wait until the end of the year. Students will be notified of their status and progress. Students may move ahead of their present grade level, if they successfully complete their current work." She turned to her fellow teachers, "It is our wish to give you all the highest quality experience even in these troubled times, and not to stand by a rigid system, when it does not serve you."

"On another note," she continued, more softly. "Professor Dumbledore has not been well lately. You may notice that he has not been joining us for meals. He needs his rest. Therefore I ask that you bring any questions or problems to me or to the other members of staff for the time being."

~

The weather had continued bleak, and so cold it chilled the very soul. February showed no signs of releasing winter's frozen hold on the countryside. In the bone-chilling night, a faint light shown from a grimy window in an uninviting stone structure upon a Scottish moor.

"Harry? Are you sure we're ready?" asked Ron as they sat across from each other in the glow of a single candle. A parchment envelope lay between them as well as a bottle of fire whiskey and two glasses. They both looked at the envelope.

"I think," said Harry, "that we can really do this. I feel like it's time."

"Then let's make a pact, shall we," said Ron.

"What kind of pact?" asked Harry.

"We won't break our connection during the fight, no matter what happens. If he kills us then so be it," said Ron forcefully. "I want him dead and gone, and I don't mind dying if that's what it takes. If one of us lives, then that one will do whatever he can to kill Voldemort."

"Agreed," said Harry, and they clasped arms across the table. Harry raised his glass of fire whiskey with his free hand, and Ron did the same. They clinked them together and then downed a gulp each. Ron's eyes began to water immediately. He choked back a laugh. "Out to kill the dark lord but can't handle my fire whiskey. I wonder if that's a good omen?"

Harry smiled fiercely as they broke apart, his eyes burning as he stared back down at the letter. "You know... odds are we'll die," said Harry.

"Don't tell me the odds," said Ron seriously.

Harry lifted the letter that they had spent several hours drafting.

"Are you sure?" asked Ron.

"I am," said Harry, surprised at how sure he sounded. "It's got to stop, now."

"Ok, send it then," said Ron, taking another gulp of fire whiskey.

Harry called Hedwig down and he tied the letter to her outstretched leg. He smoothed her feathers, hoping this would not be her last flight. "Be very careful, ok?" he said, stroking her head. She clicked her beak, as if to reassure him, then took to the air. It was done. They finished off the bottle as they talked into the night.

On an evening two nights later, Harry looked across at Ron who was stuffing his things into his old school bag. Ron had the sparse beginnings of a patchy red beard. They had not spent time with the spell that would have left their faces clean and smooth, not that they could have managed decent beards yet, had they wanted them. Harry felt his own cheeks and chin. There were some random wiry hairs there. He stepped over to the wall and wiped his forearm across an old, cracked, and very dusty mirror. He leaned in and examined his face. He thought the face staring back at him seemed older and more care-worn than a seventeen-year-old's face ought to be. He rubbed his cheek and chin one more time, and then crossed to his own pack.

It had not been a few weeks, but a few months since they had left the castle in the middle of the night. They had left in December and now it was the last week of February. It had become their custom to check the Daily Prophet each day to see if their absence had been noticed. Nothing appeared in the paper. The news in general was not good, and two missing students would hardly make the front page these days. Harry guessed that Dumbledore had done as he said, and taken care to squash any rumors about he and Ron.

Apparating to a point on the road outside Hogwarts, Ron and Harry hefted their bags and headed for the gates. They were met by four house elves who looked at them suspiciously. Harry raised his hands so they could see he wasn't holding a wand.

"We're students, coming back to school," he said calmly.

One elf broke away from his fellows and moved closer to Harry and Ron. "Harry Potter, is that you?"

"Dobby!" said Harry, smiling.

"Harry Potter has worried Dobby. Is you being captured again?" asked the elf in concern.

"No Dobby, just off doing extra lessons," said Harry.

The elves opened the gate and bowed them through. Harry promised to visit Dobby soon and then he and Ron set off up the dark lawn.

The castle still felt like home to Harry. Few windows gleamed with light but even so, it seemed warm and inviting to Harry. It was too bad that the first thing he had to do was to disrupt its relative calm.

Inside the door, Ron and Harry un-twisted scarves from their faces and stowed their gloves in their jacket pockets, then headed for the stairs. On the first landing, they ran into Professor McGonagall, who looked at them as though she had just seen a particularly horrible ghost. She gasped and clutched at her chest, taking a step back.

"Potter, Weasley, You're back!" she managed in a choked voice.

Ron and Harry exchanged a glance. "Give me your bag, Harry," Ron said. "I'll see you later in the common room. I have to find someone." Ron winked at him and strode off.

"Where...where have the both of you been?" said McGonagall in a tone that was both admonitory and concerned, as she stared from Harry to the retreating back of Ron.

"I can't tell you that Professor," said Harry, a note of calm authority in his voice. "I need to see Professor Dumbledore immediately."

"The headmaster is not well, Potter," said McGonagall stiffly.

Harry felt as though his stomach was suddenly full of ice, but he kept his face unreadable. "Still, I must see him...now."

She considered him for a moment then said, "Follow me, then."

McGonagall led the way to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office, gave the password, and then stepped onto the spiral stair. She did not knock at the door but walked in, as Harry followed in her wake. Without stopping, she proceeded to the back of the office, behind Dumbledore's desk, and to a door that was partially covered by a curtain. Harry had never noticed it before.

He had a brief feeling of trespass as McGonagall led him through this door and on to another moving stair, which took them up, yet again. At the top, Harry found himself in an elegant and well-furnished room that held a massive four-poster bed, draped in embroidered hangings. There were several overstuffed and comfortable looking chairs near a handsome fireplace. Bookshelves graced one side of the circular room, with books, large and small, spilling out on to the floor in stacks, and filling a large table in front of them. Situated in the bed, covers drawn up to his chest, was Albus Dumbledore. Harry could not help noticing that Dumbledore appeared as pale as the sheets on which he was laying.

"Ahh, Harry!" said Dumbledore in weak but light voice. He raised himself slowly and painfully to a sitting position. McGonagall rushed forwards and arranged his pillows behind him. "So kind," he murmured to her. Then he said, "I am fine, Minerva," when she continued to fuss over him.

"Sir, are you ill?" asked Harry.

"The ravages of age, I am afraid," said Dumbledore. "But that is not important now. I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you returned. You know you gave us all quite a turn."

Harry glanced at McGonagall who had remained in the room. He decided that what he had to explain would shortly affect all the members of the Order of the Phoenix, so there was no point in keeping it from her.

"Well, sir, as I explained in my note, I thought I needed to really concentrate on my ...uhh...spell work. Ron agreed to come along for company." Harry had given this some thought. There was no real good to be gained from telling Dumbledore that Ron could help him with the spell. The fewer who knew this the better. He hoped that in their absence Ginny and Hermione had not mentioned it. Dumbledore seemed to make no sign, so Harry continued. "I knew of a place we could go and where I doubted we would be found. That's where we've been the whole time... working," he said.

Dumbledore continued to look at him but did not ask questions. McGonagall remained silent. He decided to plow on and tell them the rest.

"I figure that I'm ready, sir. Ron thinks so too. I've been getting the Prophet. I know that things are getting worse by the day. I was almost afraid that Hogwarts would be closed by the time we returned. So there is no sense waiting. I know I could wait, hide... put it off longer, but it would just mean more people killed."

"Potter..." began McGonagall with an edge of fear in her voice.

Harry cut across her forcefully, "I sent Voldemort and owl two days ago." The silence in the room was complete.

McGonagall sucked in a hard breath. "You did what?" she demanded.

Harry did not look at her, but instead continued to stare at Dumbledore. The headmaster did not appear surprised but rather resigned. "He must have been pleased to receive your correspondence. I trust he replied at once."

"Yes sir," said Harry, "I told him where and when I'd meet him, and under what conditions. He...agreed."

"I'm sure you know, dear boy, that he will not play fair in this duel," replied Dumbledore.

Harry sighed, "No, he won't. However, it will take place in a week. I told him I'd meet him in the middle of the lake, between here and Hogsmeade. The lake is still frozen solid. I'll be able to see who is coming. There won't be anywhere to hide or to create an ambush. Of course, there won't be any place for our side to hide either. In any event, I want everyone, except for Voldemort and me, to remain well back."

"What about the Death Eaters. What are your thoughts?" asked the headmaster as though asking what Harry might fancy for dinner. "They will not wait patiently I think."

"We'll need all the help we can muster to fight them once Voldemort and I have done with it," said Harry flatly. "I thought the lake was close enough to the protections of the castle in case the Death Eaters win through. Whoever chooses to stand with me may still have a chance."

Dumbledore did not take his eyes off Harry's. "Minerva, please alert the Order. Have Kingsley contact the Aurors office and the hit wizard squad. Have him tell them only that we have been tipped off about a pending attack. Get them into alert status. Have the Order meet here tomorrow night so that Harry can explain what he'd like done."

McGonagall, who normally responded immediately and efficiently to any request from Dumbledore, hesitated. "But Albus, what...."

"Minerva, please," he said with finality, and she turned and hurried from the room.

"Harry, I will help you in any way I can. I am guessing you have a strategy?"

Harry nodded.

"Very well then. I cannot say that I am happy about this turn of events, but I know there is no alternative, in the end." Dumbledore laid a thin hand on Harry's arm, "Do you feel ready? Do not answer that. Of course you do. You, Harry Potter, are without a doubt the bravest person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I wish you luck." He squeezed Harry's arm then he chuckled to himself, "You sent Voldemort an owl? How very cheeky." Then his wrinkled old face crinkled into a smile.

Harry noticed the way the thin, veined hand shook as it moved away from his forearm. "I'll go now, sir. Thanks for calling in the Order. I will want their help."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Harry," said the headmaster.

Harry left the room feeling oddly detached, as though someone else were saying these things. It didn't seem possible that he was about to command a force of wizards now that his letter had set the thing in motion. He felt a crack in his façade of control. Who was he to be organizing a battle for the salvation of the wizarding world? Doubt tickled his brain.

Before he knew it, his feet had carried him back to Gryffindor tower. The Fat Lady looked down at him from her portrait. "Don't know the password, do you," she said imperiously.

"No," said Harry, resignedly, "I don't."

"Never mind," she said. "It's gilly weed. I can't see it would hurt anything to tell you... just this once," and with that, she swung open.

When Harry climbed into the common room, his eyes fell immediately on Ginny, who looked up and rose slowly from her chair. Harry was struck by how beautiful and sad she looked. Ginny was a woman now. He didn't know why that thought had struck him so. Sixteen was certainly still young, but she had been through a lot over the past year. The innocent aspect had left her face. Killing Malfoy, perhaps, or being captured and tortured...in any event the sweet innocence had vanished, replaced by a much more knowing and mature look. Still, it suited her.

Behind him, Ron and Hermione were climbing into the common room. Hermione was talking quickly and animatedly, and holding Ron's hand.

She cried, "Harry!" when she noticed him and flung her arms around him. "I was so worried! You should have told us what you were planning."

Before she could start in on him, Ron pulled her over toward the fire. "Let him be for now," Ron said, and she allowed herself to be dragged away.

Ginny walked slowly across the room, a smile warming her face. She slid her arms slowly around his middle and laid her head against his chest. "Harry," she said in a whisper. "You're back."

She felt so good pressed against him. Harry breathed in the fragrance of her hair. He raised her face toward his and their lips met. That simple kiss gave him more courage than a hundred spells could have.