Pieces of a Soul

Chapter 2: Everybody's Problem

"Now, my dear, if you would kindly charm your spoon to dance across the table for me..."

Ginny flicked her wand easily and muttered the incantation almost inaudibly, not at all surprised when her spoon did exactly what she wanted it to do...springing up onto the tip of its bowl, it began dancing in a quick cadence across the wooden table in the Weasley's kitchen.

"Excellent, my dear," the ancient Professor Tofty said almost absently, making a note on his clipboard. "We must move quickly. I have many houses left to visit this week."

"What's next, then?" Ginny asked, mentally ticking off the exams the small, gray-haired professor had already given her...Divination, Potions, Herbology and Charms...Ginny sighed. Only four of her practicals were done...she still had seven left to take. What on earth had possessed her to sign up for eleven OWL exams?

Over the past few days, she had been certain she would die at the number of written exams she'd had to take, and now that those had been scored, she was taking the practical part of each exam in front of one of the Ministry's official examiners...and all of this had been done at the Burrow, amid the usual chaos of the summer holidays. She felt that she would be lucky to obtain one OWL under these circumstances, much less eleven.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts, my dear," Professor Tofty replied, consulting his list.

"OK," Ginny replied. "Where?"

"Out of doors, dear," the examiner replied. "I've brought several items of interest with me, and I am interested in demonstrations of your shield charm and other defensive spells as well."

Ginny nodded, following him out of doors. This would be the easiest exam yet, for the topics to be tested had all been taught by Harry in the D.A. meetings over the previous two years.

As she thought of Harry, her insides twisted into a knot. She missed him so much that it hurt, and from his letters, he was getting more and more absorbed in whatever had been contained in that package Dumbledore had left for him. Even when Hagrid had died, Harry had barely stopped, writing to her in increasingly messy handwriting, as though he were in a hurry.

"Are you ready?" Professor Tofty inquired, snapping her out of her thoughts. She nodded and raised her wand, preparing to combat the boggart which emerged from a small chest positioned in the middle of the garden. She didn't even see as several garden gnomes ran in fright when the boggart transformed into a bloody and ravaged mimic of Harry Potter's dead body.

Professor Tofty gasped. Of all the boggarts he had seen in his years as an examiner, this was by far one of the most disturbing, and it was also problematic. When a person was unselfish enough that their greatest fear was the death of another, there were few ways to combat it - for how did you make a dead body funny?

Ginny Weasley seemed to be ready for this, however; she raised her wand, barely even flinching at the sight, and said, "Riddikulus!" in a clear and commanding voice.

The examiner gasped again as the body of Harry Potter became the body of Tom Riddle, who he had tested many years before, painted brightly with women's make-up and wearing tattered dress robes of bright pink. Ginny laughed at the sight, a hard laugh that did not seem to belong to a girl of only sixteen, and the Boggart vanished with a small wisp of smoke.

"Ver-very good, Miss Weasley," Tofty stuttered. "Sh-shall we move o-on, then?" He was having trouble hiding his disturbance, though given what this girl had been through, he supposed he should not have been surprised. He had heard stories about the battle waged by Harry Potter and his friends, and he knew from his connection to the Ministry and to the school that this girl had been right in the middle of it. Rumor had it she had actually been captured by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself, but had escaped. He could certainly not have expected her to have a spider or a mummy as the thing she most feared after experiencing something like that.

Nothing quite that troubling happened throughout the remainder of Ginny's examinations, though the examiner continued to be impressed with her quick thinking during all of her practicals. She was far from the most powerful witch or wizard he had ever examined, but there was a spark to her which made her unique.

It was well after midnight when they finished, for they had had to wait until then for Professor Tofty to conduct Ginny's Astronomy practical. The moment she had finished her star chart and handed it to him, he had gone down to the kitchen and asked for a few moments to tabulate her scores.

"Sure," Ginny said tiredly, leading him back down to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was sitting up anxiously and sprang to her feet as soon as her daughter and the OWL examiner came into the room.

"Well?" she asked expectantly.

"Professor Tofty needs to tabulate the scores, Mum," Ginny explained wearily. "He wants to be alone."

"Of course," Mrs. Weasley said briskly. "Professor, would you like anything? A spot of tea, perhaps? Some biscuits?"

"Thank you, Molly," Tofty replied. "I could do with a cup of tea. It has been a long week."

Molly bustled around the kitchen for a moment, and soon a plateful of sugar cookies and a steaming teapot and cup had floated across the room and landed lightly in front of the examiner.

"Thank you, thank you," Tofty muttered. "Now, I'll just get these scores together."

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny took the cue and went quietly into the cramped lounge.

"So, dear," Mrs. Weasley asked when they had settled themselves on the sofa, "how did it go?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know, Mum. It was hard to take them all at once like that."

Molly heard something in her voice, and she suddenly turned to look her daughter in the eyes.

"Ginevra Weasley!" she exclaimed concernedly. "You look positively peaked! Are you sick?"

"No," Ginny replied. "I'm just tired."

"I don't think that's it," Molly said, putting a cool hand on Ginny's brow. "You aren't running a fever."

"Of course I'm not, Mum," Ginny said with a hint of impatience. "I told you, I'm not sick. I'm just tired. It's not like I've been resting all this time."

"I know, dear, I know," Molly replied, and she sighed heavily. "You're not a little girl anymore, Ginny, and you've had a rough time of it, haven't you?"

Ginny didn't answer, but she was struck heavily by a need for maternal comfort. She silently moved closer, leaning her head on Molly's shoulder, finding solace in the familiar scent of baking bread that seemed to be absorbed in every set of robes her mother owned.

"Oh, baby," Molly murmured, drawing Ginny into her tight embrace. "Mum's here."

Ginny didn't cry as her mother rocked slightly back and forth, murmuring under her breath the kind of maternal milksop that meant nothing but seemed to help everything. She allowed herself to be held, her nerves calming a bit for the first time since the battle at Hyde Park. They remained this way for some time, mother and daughter finding in one another equal measures of reassurance in their embrace.

They were interrupted by a squeaky, throat-clearing noise from the doorway, and they broke apart. Professor Tofty had appeared, a parchment envelope held in his large, wrinkly fingers. Molly immediately jumped up to take the envelope from him while Ginny remained rooted to her seat, suddenly nervous. What if she had failed everything, which seemed to be a distinct possibility?

"It's time for me to go on to my next assignment," Tofty said wearily. "If everything seems to be in order, I'll just go on my way, shall I?"

Mrs. Weasley looked up, her eyes gleaming. "Thank you," she said softly. "And good luck to you."

"You and yours as well, Molly," Tofty replied seriously. "No need to show me out; I know the way." He turned quickly and strode out the front door, heading to the visitor's Apparation point near the front of the garden.

"Mum?" Ginny asked after a few moments. Surely it can't be that bad, she thought.

Mrs. Weasley had been standing on the spot, looking over Ginny's results. Her head snapped up at the sound of her daughter's voice, and she handed her the parchment, beaming silently.

Ginny's breath quickened as she read her results, written in Professor Tofty's untidy scrawl rather than the formal, loopy handwriting of the Ministry's secretaries.

Dear Miss Weasley,

We are pleased to inform you of the results of your O.W.L. examinations taken in June at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please remember the scoring standard as you read your results:

O - Outstanding

E - Exceeds Expectations

A - Acceptable

P - Poor

D - Dreadful

Scores of O, E, and A constitute a pass on each exam.

Scores for Ginevra Weasley, the Burrow, are as follows:

Transfiguration: E

Defense Against the Dark Arts: E

Herbology: E

Care of Magical Creatures: O

Potions: E

Astronomy: A

Charms: O

Divination: A

History of Magic: P

Ancient Runes: A

Muggle Studies: E

Congratulations on your achievement of 10 OWLs, Miss Weasley, with an overall score of Exceeds Expectations.

Sincerely,

Professor B. Tofty

"Ginny!" Molly exclaimed when her daughter had had sufficient time to read the results. "10 OWLs! I'm so proud! Why, no one in the family has done so well since Percy!"

Ginny let herself be hugged, feeling slightly dazed with her success. What was that examiner on about? Despite herself, Ginny could not suppress a grin. Ten OWLs! That was so much better than she had ever thought she would do and for now, at least until NEWTs came around at the end of seventh year, her ambitions to be a Healer were safe.

At that moment, a 'pop' from the kitchen announced the arrival of Mr. Weasley from work. Molly sighed just slightly at the late hour; it seemed that her husband spent less and less time at home, and every minute he was gone, she worried about him. Her sigh was short-lived, however; she snapped the OWL results from her daughter's hands and rushed into the kitchen.

"Arthur!" she called, beaming. "You're finally home!"

"Molly, what - " Arthur began in a tone of slight concern.

"Just look at this!" Molly shoved the parchment towards him and went to fix him a plate of food.

Arthur scanned the contents of the parchment before he had even taken his traveling cloak off, knowing that for Molly to be this glowingly happy when she was usually so worried, it had to be something major. He began to smile slightly as he started reading, and by the time he was finished, the smile had stretched into a wide grin. In two steps, he crossed the kitchen and swept Ginny up in a hug.

"Excellent work," he said fondly, kissing the top of her head. He loved the affection he could still show to his daughter. After the boys reached a certain age, displays such as this were frowned upon, but Ginny - ah, Ginny he was still free to hug.

"Thanks, Dad," she said, hugging him back.

Molly levitated a steaming plate of chicken stew to the table and quickly enchanted two hot cross buns to fly across the room and join it. "Eat up, Arthur, you must be starving," she said briskly, though she was still grinning. "Ginny, do you want anything?"

"N - no thanks, Mum," Ginny said, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.

"Then up to bed with you," Molly ordered, obviously not fooled. "And I want you to have a lie-in! I don't want to see you downstairs before lunch, am I clear?"

Ginny gaped at her. Though her mother had been known to allow them the occasional lie-in during the summer, she had never in Ginny's memory actually ordered them to take one unless they were sick and had to stay in bed anyway.

"I mean it. Now, off with you!" Molly said, jabbing her finger at the door.

Still looking slightly bewildered, Ginny kissed her father on the cheek and gave Molly a quick hug before heading upstairs.

As soon as she reached her room, she took a spare bit of parchment and her favorite quill and sat down to write Harry a note before she slept. It had become rather a habit for her in the past week or so, and though she could rarely talk to him because his relatives were always nearby when they used the Floo Network, she found that writing him a quick letter before she went to bed made her feel somehow closer to him.

Dear Harry, she wrote, fighting to keep her eyes open.

It's after midnight and I just got finished with my OWL practicals. Professor Tofty gave me my results. I reckon they're doing it that way now to save time later since they have to go to everyone's house. Anyway, I got ten OWLs. Mum's crazy over it, of course. I'm just glad I can get into the classes I need to be a Healer.

I hope everything is going well over there, Harry. It's nice to be able to talk to you in the Floo sometimes, but I really want to see you. I think I'm going to ask Mum one more time if I can come. Maybe if I stay on her, she'll let up.

I love you so much, and you'd better be taking care of yourself!

Love,

Ginny

After giving the note to her owl, Bono, for delivery, Ginny changed into her nightclothes and snuggled into her bed. Just before falling asleep, she resolved that she would once again try and get permission to visit Surrey.

* * *

Ginny did not awake the next morning until she felt Bono nudging her gently, a letter from Harry tied to his foot. She took the letter and watched as her owl soared back out the window, knowing he was going to hunt. She scanned the short note quickly, grinning wickedly as she folded it and placed it inside one of her school books to keep it private. Judging by the brightness of the sky outside and the warmth coming through her window, Ginny guessed that it was at least noon, so after showering and dressing quickly, she headed downstairs.

It turned out she was not the only one who had been allowed to sleep late; about halfway down the stairs, she met Ron, who was still yawning and rubbing his eyes, his trainers untied and his robes looking as though they had been thrown on in a hurry.

"Morning, Ron," Ginny said cheerfully, fully awake after her shower.

"Mor - Morning," Ron replied, yawning widely.

Ginny smiled. After reading Harry's note, she suddenly felt ten times more cheerful as she accompanied her brother down to the kitchen. Of course, it might also have helped that she had gotten no fewer then ten uninterrupted hours of sleep, which was at least twice the amount she had gotten each night over the previous two weeks.

"C'mon, you slowcoach," she said as they got closer. "Mum's got kippers in there; I can smell them."

"What time is it?" Ron asked in confusion. He, too, was reasonably certain that he had slept until lunchtime, but if his Mum was making breakfast, maybe it was earlier than he thought.

"It's 12:30," a bright voice informed him.

"Hermione!" Ron yelped, jumping slightly. "Why do you want to sneak up on a bloke like that?" Indeed, Hermione seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, standing slightly behind them near the entrance to the lounge, in which Mrs. Weasley had fashioned a bed for her.

"I wasn't sneaking, Ronald," Hermione said. "I was just answering your question, seeing as how I'm the only one around here who wears a wristwatch."

"Oh, erm...right..." Ron mumbled, giving his head a little shake as if to clear the rest of the sleep out of his mind.

"Your Mum was just about to come up and get you, anyway," Hermione continued. "She thought you'd want breakfast food, so she made some kippers along with everyone else's lunch."

"Everyone else's?" Ginny asked with interest. "Who else is here?" Generally, her father and Bill left the house very early in the morning and Percy and George stayed in the little flat above their shop, so by lunchtime the Hogwarts students and Mrs. Weasley were the only people in the house.

"Tonks and Lupin," Hermione replied.

"Is Harry OK?" Ginny asked, suddenly very worried, even given the note she had just received. She knew that things could change in a matter of minutes, even seconds.

"He's fine," Hermione said soothingly. "They just stopped by for a bit...I think they might have wanted some of Mrs. Weasley's cooking."

"Speaking of which," Ron broke in. "What are we all standing around here for? The food's in there." He pointed toward the kitchen door.

Hermione and Ginny both rolled their eyes. As they reached the kitchen door, Hermione suddenly turned to Ginny, causing Ron to knock into them both as they stopped short of going in.

"Ginny!" she exclaimed. "I can't believe I haven't said anything yet! Congratulations!"

Quite without warning, Ginny found herself buried in a cloud of bushy brown hair as her friend hugged her. It took her a moment to figure out what she was being congratulated for. "Oh!" she said when it came back to her. "Thanks!"

Ron watched the scene with a mixture of disgust and amusement on his face. "One of you want to tell me what you're on about so we can get to break- erm, lunch?"

"Ron, Ginny got 10 OWLs!" Hermione exclaimed after she had released Ginny from the hug.

Ron's jaw dropped. "Ten?" he said in disbelief.

Ginny giggled. "You don't have to act so stunned, Ronald," she said teasingly. "I've always been smarter than - "

"Me, I know," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "But ten! That's just...wow...well, at least I'm not last in the family...Fred and George only got..." His voice trailed off. Even now, months later, it was painful to most of them to mention Fred's name.

Hermione broke the silence by saying pointedly, "Aren't you forgetting something, Ron?"

He mentally shook himself. "Right," he said. "Lunch!" He made toward the door, but Hermione stood in his way.

"Honestly," she sighed. "You haven't even congratulated Ginny yet, or said good job, or anything!"

"Oh, erm, good job, Ginny," Ron said, flashing a grin at his sister. "That was really, erm, good, you know."

"Thanks, Ron," Ginny said with a small giggle. She knew her brother's mind was really on the delicious smells coming through the kitchen door. "OK, Hermione, I guess you can let him go now."

Hermione stepped aside and Ron nearly stumbled as he pushed the kitchen door open.

"Good morning," Lupin said brightly as Mrs. Weasley fussed with their meal. "Or, I suppose I should say, good afternoon!"

"Hiya, Ginny and Ron, about time you two joined the land of the living," Tonks added, wrinkling her face in a grimace of concentration before changing her hair to a violent shade of purple.

Ginny giggled and Molly turned to look at her, relieved to see that her daughter had regained some of her color and seemed to be much happier this morning. A good rest was just what she needed, the motherly witch thought in satisfaction. Her daughter's laugh was music to her ears, but she suddenly wondered if something had happened besides getting enough rest. Ginny just looked so...well, almost giddy. Wisely, however, Molly decided not to question it.

When everyone was seated and conversing pleasantly as they ate, Ginny broke into the conversation. "Mum, I want to go to Privet Drive."

Molly sighed. This was not the first time Ginny had made this request, and as much as she hated to ruin the good mood of the morning, she had to say, "I'm sorry, Ginny, but it's out of the question; you know that. It's just not safe for anyone."

"Mum, I'm going, one way or another," she said boldly, a slight red tinge coming to her cheeks as she remembered what Harry had written to her.

Molly bristled. "You want to watch your tone, young lady," she said warningly. "I'll not have any sass about this. Harry will be here soon enough."

"Harry's not coming here," Lupin interjected.

As one, everyone but Tonks turned to look at him in surprise.

"What do you mean, he's not coming here?" Ron asked. "That was the plan, wasn't it?"

"I believe that Harry is going to be moving to Headquarters," Lupin said mildly. "However, that location is secure enough that you lot will be able to visit whenever you wish."

"Mum, I'm going to Surrey," Ginny repeated stubbornly. This news was all she needed to make her mind up even more firmly.

"Ginevra Weasley!" Molly exclaimed, her temper rankled even further by the fact that Harry was not, as originally planned, going to join them at the Burrow after his seventeenth birthday. "You'll spend the rest of the week in your room if you persist in talking back to me!"

"I'm not a baby, Mum!" Ginny said loudly, standing up. "I haven't seen Harry in three weeks, and he hasn't seen anyone but Lupin! I'm going, and that's final! You can either help me get there safely or I'll go on my own, but you won't stop me!"

Lupin watched the exchange, carefully calculating his next move. Molly's face was bright red, and he knew from experience that she was about to explode. Looking at Ginny, however, he saw that the teen was not about to back down, and for Ginny to attempt to travel all the way to Privet Drive unsupervised was an extremely bad idea.

"Molly," Lupin said calmly, "how about if I accompany Ginny to Surrey? We can use Side-Along Apparation, and that will get both of us there safely. We've set up an Apparation Point in Mrs. Figg's back garden. It would do Harry some good to see Ginny," he added gently, knowing that by pointing out Harry's stake in the matter he was more likely to convince her to let her daughter go. Arabella Figg had deeded her home to the Order, and though it was not secure enough to be used as any kind of headquarters, they had placed enough enchantments on it that it was a safe enough place by which to enter and leave the Little Whinging neighborhood.

Molly was clearly still furious at Ginny's cheek, but some of the color left her face as she considered the idea.

"You ought to let her go, Mum," Ron said quietly. "Harry's going to lose himself in whatever he's trying to do if he doesn't have some kind of a break."

"What do you mean, 'whatever he's trying to do'?" Molly asked, looking shrewdly at her son. Everyone had known since Hagrid's death that Harry had been engrossed in something that he obviously thought was quite important, but as far as they knew, he had told no one of his plans.

"I don't really know," Ron answered, taking a bite of kipper and chewing thoughtfully. He answered with his mouth still full, "Reckon he's found a way to beat You-Know-Who?"

"Swallow your food before you speak, Ronald," Mrs. Weasley responded crossly. She knew that Harry felt it was his lot to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the prophecy certainly backed that up, but she honestly didn't like the thought of Harry sitting alone at his aunt and uncle's house, straining himself with a responsibility no one his age should have to bear.

Ron grinned slightly across the table at Ginny and Hermione. All three of them could see the conflict on her face, and they knew that Ron had said the magic words.

After a few moments in which no one spoke, Molly relented. "Fine, Ginny," she said, her tone softening considerably as she looked into her daughter's hopeful eyes. "You may go as long as Remus accompanies you, but this will be the only time, understood?"

Ginny nodded, beaming. She glad she wouldn't have to live up to her defiant words of a few moments before; though she was known for being bold, she did not like to invoke her mother's wrath any more than the rest of her siblings did.

"Unfortunately," Lupin said, "I'm not going to be able to take you until Saturday, Ginny."

Ginny excitement waned a bit. Saturday was almost a week away! "Why not?" she asked.

"I've got an appointment I just can't miss," Lupin replied mysteriously, "and the full moon is coming. We'll go after that, ok? It's only a few days, and in the meantime, why don't you use the floo to tell Harry you're coming? I know it will brighten his week considerably."

"Tonks?" Ginny asked hopefully.

"I can't, kiddo," Tonks said with some regret. "I'm not slated to be on Privet Drive until Sunday, and I've got other duties before then."

"Mum?"

"No," Mrs. Weasley replied shortly. Though she had been convinced by the others that seeing Ginny would do Harry a world of good, she could not help still being irritated over Ginny's earlier defiance.

Ginny sighed. She supposed that it wouldn't have been much fun to go to Privet Drive with her mother, anyway. While Tonks and Lupin had become practiced over the past year of looking the other way and giving her and Harry some privacy, she knew her mother would not be likely to leave them alone for long.

"Saturday, then?" she said, looking back at Lupin.

"Saturday," Lupin replied with a slight smile and a wink, as if he had guessed exactly what had gone through Ginny's head when she thought about taking her mother with her to visit Harry.

"Harry's birthday is only nine days from now," Hermione observed. "If he's moving to Headquarters, can't we arrange to have a little party there for him, just us, like we did last year?"

Even Mrs. Weasley brightened at this suggestion, always alert for opportunities to make Harry feel like part of the family and to give him back some of what he had missed during his childhood with the Dursleys. Everyone finished eating as they discussed presents and food, and as soon as Tonks and Lupin had left, Hermione and Ron had gone for a walk, and Mrs. Weasley was busy upstairs, Ginny headed to the fireplace, threw some powder in, and stuck her head directly into the green flames.

* * *

"So the school's going to open again?" Harry asked Hermione and Ron, who were jostling for space in the small fire in Aunt Petunia's immaculate lounge.

"We just heard this morning," Hermione confirmed. "They're reopening the school, but the security is supposed to be unparalleled. Anyone who is not a student or a professor will have a very hard time getting in, even by the secret passageways."

Harry's heart sank a bit at this news, for he realized even if the other two didn't that he was unlikely to be a student there again. Would he be able to come and visit his friends, at least? He couldn't imagine McGonagall closing the school to him, but still...

"What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked, noting the look on Harry's face.

Harry decided that the time had come to tell them at least a little about what he had found out. "Do you remember second year - " he began, but he was interrupted.

"Potter!" Aunt Petunia snapped indignantly. "Look what the smoke from that...that...fire is doing to my mantle!" She said "fire" as though it was a nasty swear-word, and Harry knew it was not because of the fire itself, but because of the method in which he was using it.

He glanced up at the top of the fireplace. There, barely perceptible, was a hint of the black smoke-stain that was commonplace in every grate, Wizarding or Muggle. No one but Aunt Petunia would even have noticed it. He sighed.

"I'll tell you later," he said to Ron and Hermione, who both looked extremely disgruntled at having been interrupted yet again by Harry's aunt, especially now, when it seemed that Harry had been about to tell them something extremely important.

"Come on, Harry, just tell us quickly," Hermione said anxiously. She didn't like the look on Harry's face. Whatever he's working on must be even more serious than we realized, she thought with some alarm.

"I can't," Harry replied heavily, knowing that his aunt was going to come in and start ranting at him if he didn't extinguish the fire. Honestly, he reflected, this is more trouble than it's worth. He never got more than a couple minutes of conversation with anyone but Lupin, and that was only because he could communicate with him via the amulet. He had enjoyed his nightly notes from Ginny, but they couldn't really say anything important in them, seeing as how owls were being intercepted with alarming frequency and Hedwig was easily recognizable by anyone who had seen her with Harry.

"Harry, mate, who cares what they say?" Ron asked, glaring darkly toward the entrance of the room.

"I've got to keep the peace around here," Harry replied. "It's the only way this is going to last another week."

"So leave early," Ron prodded.

"Ron, Harry's got a point," Hermione said.

"Potter!" Aunt Petunia snapped.

"OK, Aunt Petunia," Harry sighed. "I'll talk to you both soon."

Ron and Hermione both shot him sympathetic looks before their heads disappeared from the fire. Harry put it out after they were gone, wishing that he could use magic to do so, and then, for good measure, scrubbed at the black mark on the bricks above the grate.

The truth was, Harry didn't want the blood protection to end early, as much as he would have loved to leave Privet Drive forever. He knew that if he left before his birthday, it would break the magical contract forged between Professor Dumbledore and Aunt Petunia and that the Order would be unable to provide the family complete protection. He didn't completely understand it, but Lupin had assured him that it was true.

Harry could not shake the memory of Aunt Petunia's face the summer before his fifth year when he had told them that Voldemort had returned and the realization that had struck him at the time: she was his mother's sister. He could also not forget the frequent looks of fear and sadness that he had glimpsed the summer before his sixth year. No matter how horrible his life with the Dursleys had been, he could just not bring himself to turn his back on the only blood relative he had left.

After he had finished removing all traces of his use of the fireplace, Harry went back upstairs to his room, intent upon reading a chapter of one of the books Lupin had sent: Magic At Its Darkest. So far, he had not seen any direct references to horcruxes; however, there had been several oblique remarks made about soul-splitting and its relationship with murder, and Harry hoped to glean some more knowledge from those.

From Dumbledore's packet, he had worked out that the silver ring Dumbledore had destroyed was one of the Horcruxes, and that it had been owned by a man named Marvolo Gaunt, who Harry could only guess had been somehow related to the boy who had been named Tom Marvolo Riddle. This realization was incredibly alarming, as it had been the destruction of the horcrux which had caused his mentor's downfall. If Dumbledore himself had had to pay the ultimate price to destroy just the one, how was he, Harry, supposed to destroy the remaining four?

Harry had worked out that Voldemort had, incredibly, split his soul into seven separate pieces, one of which now inhabited the body he had regained in the graveyard at the end of Harry's fourth year. The ring had been one, and, Harry had realized some time before, the diary he had destroyed in his second year had been one as well.

As these thoughts sped through his mind, Harry was suddenly hit with the weight of the evil he pursued and he had to lean on his bedpost for support until the dizzying feeling of helplessness left him.

The ring, he thought again with a sense of desperation, was meant to work the way it did. It was meant to weaken or kill the person who attempted to destroy it. Dumbledore knew it, too, yet he did it anyway.

If it was even possible, the idea of a piece of Voldemort's soul having inhabited the diary hit him even harder. It possessed Ginny; it almost killed her. That piece of Voldemort's soul, just that one piece which had been trapped in a book for over fifty years, had the power to restore him to a body and to end the life of someone who was not even trying to destroy it.

Harry shivered, suddenly feeling very cold and more alone than he had ever been. How could he ever contend with evil as powerful as this? How did he have a hope in the world? As he thought about the ring and about the diary, he realized for the first time what he was truly facing.

* * *

The morning of Ginny's visit dawned clear and warm, and Harry awoke with the first sense of cheerfulness he had felt for most of the preceding week. He couldn't wait to see her. Weighed down with his aunt's constant protests, he had finally stopped using the Floo Network altogether, resolving that it was still connected in case of an emergency.

As he showered and donned the least-raggedy Muggle clothing he owned, Harry checked his watch every few moments in hope that time had suddenly sped faster toward the desired nine o'clock rendezvous in the play park.

When the hands finally, finally reached five 'till nine, Harry grinned as he stowed his Invisibility Cloak in one of his jean pockets and his wand in the other. Aside from preferring to have both on hand whenever he left the house, he was rather hoping to find a different use for the cloak today.

Lupin and Ginny came from the direction of Mrs. Figg's old house at precisely nine o'clock, looking as inconspicuous as a father and daughter out for a weekend stroll. When Ginny saw Harry, however, she broke into a run, her red hair streaming behind her until she threw herself into his arms.

"I've missed you so much," Harry whispered as he held her tight, conscious that there were several Muggles in the park even this early, perhaps having come before the afternoon heat became too oppressive. Harry didn't care about them, however, or about the fact that he was sure Lupin was carefully looking the other way as he bent his head and kissed her.

Ginny broke it off, giggling, "Harry, really...we're right out in the middle of all these people!"

Harry looked around. While Lupin was pretending to examine a particularly interesting leaf on one of the park's many trees, several of the Muggles were staring openly at Harry and Ginny, a fact that she did not fail to notice.

"Harry," she whispered, "they act like they've never seen a couple before...why are they staring like that?"

Indeed, this seemed to be more than idle curiosity, and Harry took a moment to think before he answered her. "It's because of me," he told her, laughing a little. "Everyone in this neighborhood thinks I'm some kind of hardened criminal, so I think they're surprised to see that I have such a pretty girlfriend."

"They think you're a what?" Ginny asked, bristling.

"A criminal," Harry confirmed. "Uncle Vernon tells everyone that I go to St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys."

"How dare he?" Ginny hissed angrily. "Doesn't he know what you've done, who you are? How could he call you a criminal, when you - "

"He wouldn't care if he did," Harry told her. "Look, it doesn't bother me, it really doesn't, so let's just get on with our day, OK?"

Ginny took a moment to consider, a curious set of expressions flitting across her face; Harry could almost see Uncle Vernon's face being attacked by her famous flying bogeys. Finally, though, she nodded.

"Let's walk," Harry proposed, offering her his arm in a way he had seen done in the soap operas his aunt sometimes watched when no one else was home.

She giggled and accepted, and they walked and chatted until lunchtime. Harry showed her the alley where he had first seen Sirius and where the dementors had attacked two summers previously, introduced her to some of Mrs. Figg's cats who still hung around her house even though she had been gone for months, and walked her past the Muggle primary school he had attended, pointing out the kitchen roof he had ended up on top of when he was a child.

Ginny found all of this much more fascinating than Harry did and she asked incessant questions about his childhood and his life before Hogwarts. At noon, however, she stopped. They were on the corner of Privet Drive, not far from Number Four, and she suddenly looked serious as she asked him, "Are you going to show me your house?"

Harry had purposefully avoided that very thing, knowing that Aunt Petunia and Dudley were unlikely to be friendly to Ginny, no matter how charming she looked in her Muggle jeans and old U2 t-shirt. "Erm," he said. "I thought we'd have lunch first; there's a place less than a mile from here that has really good fish and chips."

"OK, Harry," Ginny relented, "but after that, I want to see where you've been living."

Harry nodded and then motioned to Lupin, who was strolling a little ways behind them. He wasn't trying to remain hidden, but he did want to give the teens some sense of privacy.

"Moony," Harry asked, "did you have a chance to get some Muggle money exchanged for me?"

Lupin grinned. "Taking your girl on a date, eh?" he teased, reaching into the pocket of his faded tweed trousers. He handed Harry two twenty-pound notes. "Will this be enough?"

"More than," Harry agreed, laughing a little at his guardian's complete lack of understanding of Muggle money. "We're just getting fish and chips. Why don't you join us?"

Lupin couldn't help but look pleased at the invitation, and the three of them enjoyed their lunch, eaten traditionally out of coned newsprint, in the warm sunshine.

"So, Harry," Lupin asked conversationally as they were finishing, "what do you want for your birthday?"

"Nothing," Harry replied. "I just want to get out of here."

Lupin nodded and didn't press the subject. Harry's birthday was only four days away and his guardian already had a good idea of what he was going to do, anyway.

"Let's go to your house, Harry," Ginny said as they began walking again, this time with Lupin rather than in front of him. She was only allowed to stay until three o'clock, and she was not going to leave Little Whinging until she saw for herself where Harry was living and what his relatives were like.

Harry sighed. "OK," he said resignedly. "It's not much, and my aunt and cousin are there."

Ginny bristled next to him as she prepared herself to finally meet the infamous Dursleys.

"You two are completely safe inside the house," Lupin told them. "In the interest of keeping the peace, I think I'll wait out here."

"Ready, love?" Ginny asked as they approached the immaculate garden of Number Four.

Harry was immensely relieved to see that their arrival at the house seemed to have gone unheeded by either Aunt Petunia, who was probably in the kitchen, happily ignoring him, or Dudley, who was watching television in the lounge.

"My room's upstairs," he said hurriedly, trying to usher her out of the danger zone as quickly as she could.

"Was this your cupboard?" Ginny asked quietly, indicating the door on the side of the stairwell.

"Yeah," Harry answered. "But I haven't lived there in ages; they just use it for the sweeper and things like that now."

"It's so...small," Ginny whispered, opening the door and peeking in. "And dark. Oh, Harry, how horrid!"

Harry shrugged, eager to get away from the cupboard and go upstairs where he at least wouldn't have to worry about attracting his relatives' attention.

Unbeknownst to Harry and Ginny, however, Dudley was now observing them silently through the slightly-opened door to the lounge and Aunt Petunia chose that moment to emerge from the kitchen. She took one look at Ginny, who still had her head inside the cupboard door, and Harry, who was looking quite awkward indeed, and said icily, "And just who is this, and what right does she have to poke around in my home, Potter?"

"Ginevra Weasley," Ginny said as she pulled her head out of the cupboard, her tone easily matching Aunt Petunia's in coldness. "And I was just interested in seeing Harry's old bedroom."

If this remark made Aunt Petunia uncomfortable, she didn't show it. She simply stared at Ginny as though they were in a contest to see who would look away first.

Ginny won, her dark-eyed gaze far outlasting Petunia's gray-eyed one. When Harry's aunt had finally turned away, Ginny whispered, "How could you?"

Harry turned to her, startled to hear the all-to-familiar note in her voice that said she was about to cry. He had expected, possibly, that she would be angry and fly into a temper, but he had not expected this.

"He was just a baby," Ginny continued, that heartbreaking note still in her voice. "Just a child. He depended on you. How could you?"

Aunt Petunia didn't look as though she knew what to say to this, but neither did she retreat.

"Standing right in front of you," Ginny continued, her voice growing stronger, "is one of the greatest men who has ever lived. And you know what the sad thing is? He doesn't even know it. You poisoned him against himself, made him doubt his own strength. Your day of reckoning will come, and you had better hope to God that Harry's there when it does, because he will be the only person in this world who can or will save you."

Petunia was visibly shaken by this last pronouncement and she looked as though she was about to say something when Ginny abruptly turned to Harry. "Let's go see your room. I want to say 'hi' to Hedwig," she said as though nothing of import had just happened.

"Erm...OK," Harry said. He turned away from his aunt and led Ginny up the stairs to the bedroom he had occupied since he was barely eleven years old.

Ginny didn't seem much more impressed with the small room than she had with the cupboard under the stairs. She looked around at Dudley's old, smashed toys on the shelf, the scratched and scarred desk and the bed with its thin, cast-away blankets and sighed.

"Hey," Harry said gently, leading her to the bed. "Don't let this spoil our day, OK?" He tugged her down beside him and gathered her into his arms.

"I know, Harry," Ginny said quietly. "I'm sorry. I promised myself I wouldn't do this...it's just, well...we've always been poor, but from what I've seen, we had a lot of advantages you didn't, and we always had love...it just makes me sad to think about the way you lived before you found your place in our world."

"I found Ron, and Hermione...and you..." Harry murmured. "And I could never have hoped for anything better." With a slight smile, he suddenly thought of something that would take Ginny's mind off his life with the Dursleys. He unwrapped one of his arms from around her waist and grabbed the Invisibility Cloak from his pocket, shaking out its silvery folds while Ginny giggled.

"I knew this would come in handy," Harry said as he covered them both with it and motioned for Ginny to lie beside him on the bed, ready to fulfill the promise he had made to her in his note from almost a week before.

Nearly two hours later, Ginny hopped down the stairs with Harry close on her heels, ready to walk her back to Mrs. Figg's house so she could Apparate with Lupin back to the Burrow.

"So long, Petunia!" she called in a cheery voice, waving merrily at the astonished woman as the door closed behind her.

* * *

The Evening Prophet was waiting for Harry when he came upstairs to his room from yet another silent dinner with the Dursleys two days after his day with Ginny. He hadn't been expecting a newspaper; generally, the evening edition was only printed when something of enormous importance had happened.

It didn't take very long for Harry to learn what it was, as the headline on the paper was printed in type so large that it could be read from across the room.

NEW MINISTER OF MAGIC:

SCRIMGEOUR ADMINISTRATION PROMISES 'PEACE AT ANY COST'

Below the headline was a picture of a man wearing the navy blue robes of an Auror and gazing sternly out from behind an impressive mahogany desk. The article went on to explain that the new Minister had formerly been the head of the Auror office, and that the new administration would be taking a hard-line position on eliminating any and all threats from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his Death Eaters.

"It is time for the wizarding world to stop living in fear," he was quoted as saying. "In contrast to previous administrations, my office is committed to using any and all means necessary to eliminate this threat permanently."

Any and all means? Harry thought suspiciously. That sounds an awful lot like Barty Crouch, Sr.'s stand on the first war. Anger boiled under his skin at the memory of the man who had imprisoned his godfather without so much as a hearing. If this Minister was going to show signs of behaving like Bartemius Crouch, Harry knew that he would be offered little to no help in his quest, not that he had expected the Ministry to do so in the first place. The ironic thing was that, given what Rufus Scrimgeour was reported to have said, most of the wizarding world would stand behind his actions and those of his administration even if those actions were almost as heinous as those of the Dark Lord himself.

In disgust, Harry tossed the newspaper aside. Too agitated to study, he paced the room several times before casting himself onto the bed.

It was a long time before Harry Potter finally fell into an uneasy asleep.

* * *

The next morning found Harry struggling to maintain his patience as Uncle Vernon accused him of having something to do with the yowling of a particularly obnoxious tomcat that had kept him up most of the night.

"It had something to do with your lot, I know it," Vernon proclaimed, his face red as he glared at Harry from across the table.

"I keep telling you, I had nothing to do with it. I was asleep! I didn't even hear it!"

"Like I'd believe one word that came out of your mouth," Vernon snarled. "Talking with weirdoes through my fire, bringing that red-headed hussy - " he broke off when Harry pushed back from the table and stood, his face contorted with rage and his wand drawn.

"I thought she was nice," Dudley said suddenly, looking up from his grapefruit.

Silence descended. Even Harry's anger at Vernon diminished slightly in light of this startling comment. Vernon, Petunia and Harry stared at Dudley in open-mouthed surprise.

"I mean," Dudley muttered, suddenly seeming ashamed of what he had said, "she seemed...ok...I mean, ok for one of you freaks."

No one at the table was convinced that Dudley had thought of Ginny Weasley as any kind of freak. Several moments of tense silence followed in which everyone played with their grapefruit slices.

"You've been nothing but a problem since you came here," Vernon growled in an attempt to refocus the table on the issue at hand.

Harry responded coldly. "In exactly," he checked his watch, "fifteen hours and forty-seven minutes, I will no longer be your 'problem', Uncle Vernon." After saying this, he left the table abruptly and headed back up to his room to pack.

When he opened his trunk, he was a little surprised to find the amulet he shared with Lupin glowing blue, the signal that his guardian wanted to talk to him. He picked it up, knowing he would be glad for a friendly voice.

"Hi, Moony," he thought, focusing his mind on the man sitting at the table in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

"Hiya, Harry," Lupin responded warmly. "Everything all packed?"

"Not yet," Harry answered irritably.

"You seem a little flustered, kid," Lupin pointed out. "Want to tell me what happened?"

"It was nothing, really," Harry said, now wishing he had never picked up the amulet. "My uncle and I had a little bit of a row over some stupid tomcat in the alleyway. It's over now, and I'm just waiting."

"Right," Lupin said, deciding that he really didn't need to know the exact details of the argument. Harry was still at Privet Drive; that was what counted, and he only had another day left. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. As far as I can figure, the blood protection lasts until you are truly seventeen; that is, to the very moment at which you were born."

"When was I born?" Harry asked with interest. He knew his birthday, of course, but he had no idea exactly what time he had been born...why had he never asked?

"You were born at 6:14 pm on July 31," Lupin replied, smiling a bit as he recalled James's face when Harry had finally arrived.

"So the blood protection will last until 6:14 tomorrow night?" Harry asked.

"Yes, unless something happens that breaks it before then. Just in case, we're planning on traveling to Headquarters midmorning or so, if that is OK with you. Since it is technically your birthday, it will not break the contract, and I don't want you on Privet Drive when the blood protection is voided."

"What about the Dursleys?" Harry asked a trifle flatly. He had not just endured an entire month with them so that they could be killed the moment he left.

"The Order will be able protect them with some enchantments that Dumbledore set up only to work upon the completion of your aunt's commitment."

Once again, Harry marveled at Dumbledore's ingenuity. Had he foreseen how resistant the Dursleys would be to keeping him, or had he simply been trying to plan for every contingency?

"So, midmorning tomorrow, Harry?" Lupin asked, greatly looking forward to having some company at the lonely old mansion.

"Midmorning tomorrow," Harry confirmed, lobbing a pair of socks into his open trunk as he communicated telepathically with Lupin.

"One day more, Harry. Just think about that!" Lupin found it hard to keep the jubilation from his voice at the thought that Harry would never have to go back to those people again.

They disconnected a few minutes later, and Harry spent most of the day packing his things and making sure his notes and his studies were in order and ready to be resumed immediately upon his arrival at Grimmauld Place.

I wonder if they're going to have a party for me, Harry thought with a grin as he collapsed his telescope and placed it in his trunk. If he knew Mrs. Weasley and his friends, not to mention his girlfriend, he could look forward to a pleasant evening upon his arrival at Headquarters.

* * *

Harry was so engrossed in his work that he did not notice the clock change to midnight, exactly fifteen hours and forty-six minutes after he had left the kitchen that morning. Nothing seemed amiss in the quiet town of Little Whinging...nothing, that is, until the clock clicked to 12:01 and Harry Potter ceased to be Vernon Dursley's problem anymore.

"Morsmordre!"

The voice was loud enough to wake the three Dursleys and cause Harry to spill his inkpot as he sprang to his feet.

Vernon Dursley suddenly had a much bigger problem.