The Unforgettable Fire

CHAPTER 16: Long Road to Redemption

"Have a seat, Sprite," Moody said, motioning for the seat across him on the porch table. Ginny had just gotten off the lawn (the first time in a while since she'd been unconscious for a week), the last drops of morning still present on her skin and clothes. She nodded and sat next to him, letting him check her tea for poison before drinking it. "You know what I want to talk to you about?"

Ginny shook her head.

"The Trapezium has been stolen," Moody said. He watched her expressions closely. She didn't even flinch.

Instead, she nodded. "Good."

Moody raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Good?"

She nodded again. "Things are going on plan."

"Plan? What plan? Albus would have told me of a plan."

"Dumbledore doesn't know the plan," Ginny explained. "Who have you been getting your information from?"

"Albus. He has Vector figuring out your calculations, having a time with it too as I hear from Albus."

Ginny raised her eyebrow questioningly.

"You've missed a bit, I guess," Moody apologized. "The night you talked to Harry was the night I got a call from Albus. He said that the Trapezium's been stolen. When I got there Fletcher and I deduced that Celeste Sinestra, the Astronomy professor had been put under the Imperious and had stolen it. Albus wanted to know why and no one knew. I said I'd see you with your Arithmacy and something about the Trapezium and a whole ton of other stuff I'd never heard of. So I came back here and got it. I gave it to Vector to mess with, and then came back, saw you on the ground in the Rowans, and put you in bed. The rest you know."

Ginny looked at him doubtfully. "Excuse me, but Professor Vector isn't going to be able to understand those equations. Arabella wouldn't even be able to work those particular equations; I doubt any one could. I barely understand them. I don't think it's wise to let Vector messy my notes."

"What do you propose we do then?" Moody said grumpily.

"Well...I see Vector becoming very confused, a bit angry and hurt too, in the next week or so, because she doesn't understand a thing she sees. Then she will undoubtedly try to contact you through Dumbledore so she can talk to me. I say we find a way to keep her away from the project. She doesn't have that much to do with it anyway, so who cares," Ginny answered casually.

"You're probably right. Now why don't you just tell me where you've been getting your information," he prompted.

Ginny took another drink of tea before answering. "Arithmacy doesn't just tell you the mathematics of blocking and casting spells, Alastor. When used correctly, it can tell you the logistics for large transfers of power or even give you possibilities for the future. The power is all in the runic symbols. I've just been doing some...experiments, so to speak."

"Were all those predictions?" Moody asked.

Ginny shook her head. "No. Most of it was me trying to figure out how Tom was supposed to get all that energy from The Alignment and the Trapezium. I wanted to know why so hopefully when the time comes, I'll have an idea of what is going on where hopefully other people won't."

Moody frowned and took a long drink from his flask. "Albus says you could have been an oracle, maybe even should have."

Ginny's face steeled, her eyes becoming hard and inflexible. "Dumbledore would have damned me to a living hell. He would have sent me to Delphi and then where would we be? We'd be without the third wheel of the prophesy, that's where we'd be."

Moody rolled his eyes and sneered slightly. "That's not what I meant. I meant, what does the future say if you're so damn all-knowing."

"I wouldn't tell you even if I knew," Ginny said. "Besides, the future doesn't work like that. The closest concrete detail I know of is that somewhere in America, a young witch is going to be born with purple eyes and they shall call her The Messiah. What happens after that is a mystery."

"What does that mean?"

"I have no idea. It's the only thing I can see right now. Occasionally, if I look very hard, I can see a form, a shadow if you will. But things are moving so fast now, decisions and choices being made, all of which contribute to the future, it's impossible to see them all." Ginny sighed and stirred her cooling tea with her forefinger. "It's like a fast moving river, bubbles of inspiration and identification surface and pop before you can see them sometimes. It's very confusing and it gives me a head ache...that and The Alignment."

"It is close then?" Moody asked.

"Most assuredly. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few things I need to be doing."

Mood nodded and Ginny left.

~~~

Harry Potter was an exceptional failure at not following his heart. He wouldn't defy his heart for all the tea in China, nor would he defy his gut instinct. There was no way around it; he was officially a failure. Not only that, he didn't care. Upon reflection, it was probably her skin this time. Before it had mainly been her hair, now it was her skin. She'd simply shown too much and drove his teenage hormones to distraction as a result. She didn't think anyone was watching, he'd told himself. That means she probably doesn't want to be followed. That was his brain. Why listen to your brain when you had a perfectly good heart?

So there he was, standing outside a ring of obviously powerful trees watching her pray or something in front of them. To his ears she was speaking an ancient and musical tongue; it rang and resounded in the glen.

At first nothing seemed to happen, but as her song became more complex, the winds picked up slightly and magic seemed to saturate the air.

~~~

No, Ginny thought. She knew what was going to happen. No! Her senses told her that HE was there. Damn it! She should have known better. The Holy Circle of Rowans could be used at a channeling area for the spirit world, much in the same way the Intihuatana could. Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! But it was to no avail. He was going to enter the Circle; she could feel it. What have I done to deserve this? She wondered hopelessly. She couldn't even come out of the trance fast enough to tell him to go away. Damn it!

And then it happened.

The harsh winds of the spirit world wracked the Circle as they pushed down from the heavens. Ginny could feel the air become dense with the heavy smell of ancient magic. Ginny coughed under the pressure in her lungs. The familiar purple glow of magic claimed the center Rowan, the Tree of Ether. Its magic expanded and drew on the other elements. Then the power skyrocketed and the force hurled Ginny against a Rowan on the outer circle of trees. She couldn't even move under the force of the magic.

She saw him. Harry was suspended, looking lifeless in the air, a purple glow trying to suppress a green one coming from his own body. Looking up with trouble, Ginny saw him, the silvery essence of Draco. It almost made her cry. The silvery spirit of her friend ascended from the heavens and faced Harry. Then the purple aura claimed Draco's spirit and Ginny saw him no more.

The first thing that Ginny saw after that was the falling body of Harry. The winds died. The magic receded. The green glow of Harry throbbed mercilessly for a moment, then stopped as well. Ginny could make out a slight difference in appearance, the spirit of Draco not completely bonded with Harry's body. It was like a shadow hovering over Harry's body, a silvery shadow of Draco.

The pressure of the magic in the air dead, Ginny stood, walking slowly over to the body of Harry and squatting next to it. Frowning, she cast a Body Stretcher Charm on his body and carried him into the house, Moody giving her the slightest of nods as she stepped onto the porch.

~~~

His head ached and his whole body throbbed. It was like a pulsating wound, blood pumping in every direction. Except it wasn't his blood wasn't pounding, it was his magic. It was like when he had felt a wand for the first time, the warming sense of rightness and power. He could feel it around him...and it was different. Actually, he felt different. And he felt like he was being watched.

She's in here, but she isn't the one watching you, a cool voice said in the back of his head.

I'm going insane, Harry thought absently, trying to will himself to wake.

I suppose some could argue that, the voice continued. But in this case, you are perfectly sane, one hundred percent competent, rational, and sound. Now let's dispense with the formalities. I'm Draco Malfoy and I'll be your spirit partner for oh, a little while. How do you do?

Barking mad, Harry said to himself.

Oh, must we go over this again. Maybe this will help.

Bright lights flashed on in Harry's mind and he felt as though he'd been drawn into a dreamlike land. It was cool and pure, white clouds or mist all around him, friendly mist that shimmered, reflecting an unseen light.

Looking around, Harry found himself somewhat tangible and wearing a loose-fitting pair of jeans and a Hogwarts Quidditch t-shirt.

"As I was saying," the voice continued. "Perfectly sane in this respect. Welcome to my humble...well it's a humble something."

"Malfoy?!?" Harry said in disbelief, his voice raising an octave in surprise. There before him stood Draco Malfoy in black slacks and black Oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a few buttons undone. He stood straight and nodded his head to Harry. Harry rather wondered what he'd been leaning on.

"In the flesh...so to speak," Malfoy said with a smirk. "Thought you'd gotten rid of me, eh, Potter? Heh, now you have to share a body with me! Hidy-ho, neighbor-o!"

Harry frantically searched for his wand, not finding it on his person; took a defensive stance and stared down the still smirking Malfoy.

"We aren't substantial matter here, Potter," Malfoy said royally. "This is our minds projection of ourselves. In other worlds, this is how I picture me in my mind and you picture you in your mind. Got it? I can see how this is hard to understand."

"Well if you know all the damnable answers, Malfoy," Harry said moodily, "why don't you tell me why you're here...wherever here is. And how you got here if you don't mind."

"Not at all, Potter, old boy," Malfoy said casually, stalking around Harry in a circle. "I'm here because I haven't finished my job on Earth."

"Then why didn't you come back as a ghost?" Harry asked.

"I needed to do things," Malfoy said with a roll of his eyes. "If I'm a ghost I just walk through stuff. Can't pick nothing up. Can't move nothing around. Kapish?"

Harry rolled his eyes right back at him. "Crystal."

"So anyway, apparently whoever is in charge up there, some sort of powerful committee I think, decided I had to go back to Earth and do my part. Had a whole bunch of old Slytherin witches and wizards rallying behind me, I did. Now I'm here, sharing your body."

"Why me? Why not Dumbledore? Why not anyone?"

"I don't know," Malfoy said nonchalantly. "Apparently you are someone important. That prophecy's gonna make you famous - oh, wait you already are!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry spat.

"Oh, original," Malfoy said with a sneer.

"So what, now you get to invade my thoughts and take over my body at whim?" Harry asked, ignoring his comment.

"Not exactly," Malfoy said thoughtfully. "I do have complete access to your thoughts; that is until your puny Gryffindor brain figures out how to make a wall powerful enough to stop me. But access to your body is another thing. Only with your permission can I - how do you say - possess you?"

"So you have access to my memories?" Harry asked, knowing that there was a hitch of worry in his voice.

"If I so choose," Malfoy said casually. "Though what you could possibly be thinking that would interest me I don't know."

Harry was silent for a while. Malfoy, who had stopped pacing and was standing with his arms crossed, appeared to be at a loss of words too.

"So," Harry said awkwardly. "What now?"

"You mean what about Virginia," Malfoy interpreted.

"I don't!" Harry said quickly. Malfoy tapped his head with a raised eyebrow. "Fine. Perhaps that is what I mean."

"Well what about her?" Malfoy asked.

"Did you want to talk to her or something?" Harry asked.

Malfoy's face went blank and he stared at Harry intently. "You'd let me...why?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "It's just right...isn't it?"

Malfoy's eyes became shadowed and he frowned. "No. I'll just watch...for now. Still getting used to things and all," he said a bit brisker. "No, I can wait a while. She's probably angry...and sad too. Would you mind...would you mind telling me how she is? We don't exactly get the Daily Prophet in the Elysian Fields."

Harry raised his eyebrow at the Elysian Fields bit but didn't comment. "Well, I guess. I suppose it was some time after you died that she was crucified. They hung her over the lake with the Dark Mark hovering over her. It was...it was bloody and repulsive. But somehow, I don't know exactly, she was revived. They sent her to Moody to train her. Her training is coming along well, she's still very sharp. The plan is going on schedule, or at least that is what Moody tells me."

"What is the plan?" Malfoy asked.

"Kill Voldemort, of course," Harry replied. "Only Ginny really knows the real plan. They don't give us paper pushers the outline you know."

Malfoy took this all in and nodded. Then he looked at Harry. "We're in the same boat you know...that works on many levels you know? Anyway, you and I, we've got to work together for this to work. I'm not really clear on what I'm going to do, or what you're going to do, but it's big, real big."

"So we've got to put the past behind us," Harry said, half in question half in statement.

Malfoy nodded. "Yep. Right in one."

After a brief and slightly uncomfortable moment of silence, Harry stuck out his and looked Malfoy in the eye. "Harry Potter," he said earnestly.

"Draco Malfoy," Malfoy said, Harry catching the subdued enthusiasm.

They kept their hands like that for a while, a bond of comradery binding them for a spit moment. Then they dropped each other's hand and looked around awkwardly.

"So," Malfoy - no, Draco, said uneasily.

"So," Harry repeated.

"No," Draco answered.

"What?" Harry asked, a bit confused.

"You were wondering if I ever really loved Virginia and the answer is no," Draco said clearly.

"You didn't?" Harry asked. "But - "

"You always believe what the rumors say, Harry?" Draco said smoothly. "I was protecting her from the other Slytherin. In return I got the closest thing I ever had to a friend and a good and willing shag. There wasn't any love. She never loved me. I never loved her. We didn't know how. I was wrong, desperate when I said I loved her when I was dying. She was the closest thing I had to love and she knew it. Nothing in her voice that day could have convinced me otherwise. You didn't think we loved each other, did you?"

"Well I didn't know," Harry replied. "She always - "

"It was all for her protection," Draco replied. "Nothing else."

"How do you know she didn't really love you then?" Harry asked stonily.

"She doesn't know how," Draco answered simply. "Being in Slytherin completely wiped it out of her. Unless somehow she leans, which is unlikely, she will never love. I won't either. I don't really like talking about it to tell the truth."

"All right," Harry said in a retreating voice. "We don't have to."

"You should go back; you're being called back into consciousness, some elemental thing. I'd answer it if I were you," Draco informed him coldly.

"So that is what that tugging feeling was," Harry mused, the world of mist closing in around him, fading into black.

Then he was conscious. His whole body was aching again, though it was getting better. His eyelids were heavy and tired, but he opened them anyway, only to close them immediately. Everything was blurry and fuzzy, but he could hear pretty well, and feel too.

There was a warm towel on his forehead that had some sort of tingling mixture in it making him wake up. But also, there was a warm feeling in his hand. It was Ginny's. Ginny was letting him hold her hand. Not only that, but she was caressing his face gently, her fingers warm on his face. And there were no gloves.

And she was talking, talking very softly. "I'm so sorry, Harry. This never should have happened to you. I...I don't know what I was thinking. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I made a promise to myself and I don't want to break it. It's just, every time I'm near you, I feel weak. I feel like I need you, need to be part of you to survive. It scares me. And you scare me. You're so passionate and free with your emotions. You're different from most boys I've met. And then there's that instinct to be with you, it's overwhelming at times. That is why I avoid you; that's why I turn my back on you. I'm confused...by you...by me..."

She sighed and an intense feeling of sadness and remorse swept over Harry when she stopped talking. Her voice was so soothing, like cool water on a hot day. She was pouring her heart out to him. He wasn't supposed to hear this...but who cares. He just wished he could talk back!

She removed the rag from his face and he heard water falling drop by drop into a bowl, then the towel was put down on his head.

"I want to love, Harry," she said finally, the peaceful effects of her voice taking hold again. "I said I wanted to, made the vow. But it's hard, so hard, and I feel so alone. There's an aching in my heart, but when you're here it isn't as bad. Half of me says I should live with that shame, that pain. It says I deserve it for all the awful things I've done and said to you. But the other half says to run to you and just hold on, never stopping. It says I've had enough pain and suffering, I have enough scars, and I deserve to love. And all the time..."

She faded out again and Harry heard a soft sound. It dawned on him, she was crying. A single tear fell on his chest and he realized he must be shirtless. Her hands never moved though and a few more drops landed on him. He'd give anything to see her now.

"All the time," she continued, barely in a whisper. "There you are. The answer, I'm just too stubborn, or too scared, to see it."

Harry felt a hot breeze on his face and neck and he realized she must be very close to him. Then a gentle warmth pressed down on his lips and Harry tasted the sweet salt of her tears as she kissed him softly. "Come home, Harry," she said quietly, her fingers caressing his face still and her hand tightening slightly around his. "Please come home to me."

Taking the cloth from his head she pressed her lips to his damp forehead once and then twice. Then the feeling of warmth left Harry and he understood she must have left. Her fingers were no longer on his cheek; her hand was no longer in his. Then he heard the door close and sleep took him.

~~~

Harry was awake officially now. He opened his eyes and everything was clear. Or at least as clear as it could be in a dim room. He tried moving his arms and legs, but it was no use, they were too heavy still. Apparently the effects of having a soul joining with yours were more taxing on the body than one would think.

But somehow, he got the energy to turn his head. That was when he saw the most magnificent sight he'd ever seen. Ginny Weasley was sprawled across the desk next to him, papers under her and her fire-red hair flowing about her like a halo. Sure there were circles under her eyes and she was snoring lightly, but she was still beautiful. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Harry tried to shift in his bed, trying to see her better. But she snorted softly in her light sleep and woke up. Licking her lips and stretching her arms above her head she yawned. Then she jumped slightly, turning to look at him.

"Harry?" she whispered sleepily. "Oh, Merlin, you're awake."

She stood quickly and walked out of his seeing distance. But he could hear her fine. She was somewhere to the left of him and there was a clinking sound to let him know she was working. But soon she returned to his sight and placed a tray on the desk over her papers.

Harry tried to speak, but nothing came out. Ginny saw this and smiled slightly. "You'll be weak for a while. What you went though will do that to a person. I was out for a week at least. But here you are, awake on the third day." She sighed. "We've got to get some fluid in you, don't want to dehydrate on us do we? No. Now I don't think you'll be able to lift your head...or swallow much really. But I want you to drink at least one glass before you sleep again all right?

"Now," she continued. "I've put some healing potion in here, but it's tasteless, I thought you'd appreciate just the pure taste of water." She poured a bit of clear liquid into his water and stirred it a bit. Then she got up from the chair and moved to his bed lifting him slightly and then sitting on the bed, his head resting in her lap, but propped up so he could drink. "Now that's not that bad is it?" she asked quietly, taking the glass from the table and dipping her finger in it. Harry tried to open his mouth but nothing happened. Ginny smiled down on him while dipping her finger in the water then pressing it on his lips and smoothing it around. It felt clean on his dry skin, and somewhat sensual.

"There's a donation from Fawks in here," Ginny said softly. "First class owl from Dumbledore. It'll heal you faster than anything Alastor has around." She tipped the glass to his lips and he swallowed some of it painfully. But it felt wonderful on his sticky mouth and throat. Ginny looked down on him, curling a bit of hair around her ear as she tipped the glass to him again. "You're luck to have friends like Dumbledore, Harry, very lucky indeed."

He was halfway through the glass when his throat and mouth felt up to working. "Gin..." he said raspily.

"No," she said softly. "Don't try to talk yet. Maybe tomorrow."

Then she tilted the glass his way before he could reply. Harry looked up at her but couldn't read her expression at all. But when he did understand was that somehow her fingers had tangled themselves in his hair and were massaging his scalp slightly. Harry didn't make any hint that he realized it, figuring she didn't even know. Soon he finished the glass and Ginny looked down on him silently for a while before resting his head on the pillow again.

His eyes followed her as she walked over to his window on the other side of his bed. "I'm going to open the window," she said quietly. "A nice healthy breeze will do you good." She undid the clasps and opened the window a bit. Harry felt a slightly cool breeze enter the room. It mixed with her scent on his pillows and threatened to put him to sleep. He did see her sit in the window seat, however, crossing her legs and facing the moon. The wind picked up her hair and blew it back, giving her the look of a moon goddess.

A moon goddess, he mused to himself. Cold and distant, but lonely. A person would feel grateful to have her smile down on them. A person would feel grateful to receive her love and attention. Maybe the moon isn't as cold as she's made out to be.

~~~

Harry was awake again. This time there was light coming though his window. It was calm and inviting sunlight, the type that called out to you to go and ride a broom. Harry was just attempting to sit up when he heard the door open and close.

"Oh, no you don't," Ginny said, pushing him back down on the bed. Half memories of waking up several times during the night and seeing Ginny watching the moon surfaced in his mind and he laid back down. "I'm going to see if you can eat something more tangible now, perhaps some broth. I'll be back."

And a few minutes later she was, carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming soup on it. She smiled and said, "How are you feeling this afternoon?"

Harry licked his lips. "I've been better," he managed to rasp out.

"I can imagine," Ginny said almost cheerily. Propping him up like the night before, she dipped the spoon in the broth and blew it cool before bringing it to Harry's lips. Once again, he felt her fingers making their way absently to his head and entwining with his dark hair.

"It's a good thing you're such a fast healer," Ginny said warmly, spooning him another bite. "You need all the training you can get. Me too for that matter. I...never mind."

"What?" he crocked out between spoonfuls. She plopped another spoonful in his mouth before answering.

"I feel a bit responsible for this, Harry," she said primly. "And if you must know, I'm suffering from a guilty conscious from a number of things. I don't need another death on my already spotty record."

Then she looked down on him, her brown eyes soft for once. "We can't loose you, Harry Potter. The world can't afford it."

"Can you?" he said, his voice becoming stronger.

Ginny remained still and unemotional. Then she looked away, putting the empty bowl on the desk next to her and standing up. She turned her back to him and for a moment Harry thought she must be angry with him. She crossed her arms and rubbed them as though she were cold. Harry noticed she still wasn't wearing her gloves. Ginny sighed raggedly.

"No, Harry, I don't think I can. You need to get some sleep." Then she walked briskly to the door and closed it behind her.

~~~

May 30, 1997

Dear Diary,

How do you stop something inside of you? Can you? I don't think I can. I used to think that there was only darkness in me. I used to think that all I could do was evil and hope the ends justified the means. My goal has and always will be to destroy Tom. But now...but now...I'm lost more than anything now.

Merlin, how I was cold. I was so cold, so unforgiving, not even human. I had no conscious. I had no remorse. I had no fear. I had no heart. I was a broken shadow of a woman, a disgusting shadow; I see that now. But I kept going; I went so far, so long, I didn't even know where to end, or if there was an ending. Life was a dead and hallow shell and only death awaited me, death and loneliness. It wasn't enough, it wasn't right, it wasn't living.

And now there is something inside of me and I can't stop it. I don't know if I want to. A fire burns where before there was ice. A griffin sleeps where before there was a snake. Things are being turned upside down and shaken about. My heart and mind can't fathom or keep up with it. My heart is so new, so young and weak. I fear it shall break if it's bended or prodded in any way. I fear for the worst.

Then Harry and his mysterious powers over me are there. I don't know what binds me to him, what keeps me by his bed while he sleeps, what tangles my fingers in his thick black hair, what makes me crave the electricity in his skin when I touch it. Could it be love? I don't know. What does love feel like? What does love taste like to the heart? What does it sound like to the soul? Does it feel like warm raindrops slowly drizzling from the sky in a spring shower? Does it taste like warm honey sliding down the back of your throat so slow and sweet? Does it sound like silence one minute and roar like the ocean waves breaking on the cliffs the next? I don't know. I never have. But if this were it, if I were in love with Harry and this strange sensation were the ultimate emotion? It feels like some sort of foreign form of power to me. It still feels like power. I don't think this is a good thing. From what I've heard, love isn't supposed to be power, it is supposed to be the supreme happiness.

I want to...I don't know what I want. I'm being foolish I think. Perhaps and perhaps not. I have to remember that Draco is there now. It's so easy to forget. He just isn't part of my life anymore. He would understand that. If I put it in terms of power he'd understand.

I was reading something of Alastor the other day, while Harry was sleeping. It was by e. e. cummings. No, there is no capitalization in his name; he didn't think it was important enough to capitalize. He liked experimenting with punctuation too. I find it surprising that Alastor keeps Muggle poetry around. But Alastor is a surprising person. Anyway, this caught my eye immediately. I hadn't read much e. e. cummings. I'm ashamed to say I didn't understand it. There were so many...emotions. I didn't - couldn't understand them. But it makes more sense now.

since feeling is first

e. e. cummings

since feeling is first

who pays any attention

to the syntax of things

will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool

while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,

and kisses are a better fate

than wisdom

lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry

- the best gesture of my brain is less than

your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for each other:then

laugh,leaning back in my arms

life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

Bloody beautiful, that is all I have to say. It's just so...good. "And death I think is no parenthesis." Just say it, it even feels right on your tongue. So true, so romantic and passionate and real and meaningful and heartfelt. I want some one to love me like that. I want some one to want me like that, to look at me like that and hold me like that.

I would never find that with Draco. And as much as it shames me to say it, I've grown away from him, from the idea of having him around. I don't need his shadow anymore, nor do I need his voice in my mind. I find more and more I don't want it either.

~~~

Harry woke alone and very hungry. Looking around he saw no Ginny and no food. He was rather hungry. Surprised he'd found the strength, he sat up full with out assistance and made his way staggering like a drunk man to the door. He was further amazed when Ginny's apparent sixth or maybe even seventh or eighth sense didn't alert her to his movement. She'd been keeping him in bed nearly all week, not letting him sit much less walk. Not to say he wasn't grateful, oh no. He felt like heaven. Every measure of her life was dedicated to him, every fiber of her being focused on him. He loved it, reveled in it. To be the center of her life, her sun and moon, was to be a man among boys, a king of kings, a god of gods.

And yet she was gone. She wasn't there to tell him to lie back down then feed him soup or give him water. Stumbling down the hall he frowned. Where was she then, if she wasn't with him?

Give it a rest would you? I don't want to hear about this for the rest of my vacation, Draco complained in the back of his mind.

Oh, so you come now to watch me fall down the stairs. Wouldn't it be funny if the invincible Harry Potter were to be defeated by a sixteen-step staircase? Ha...ha...ha, Harry spat.

Thoroughly, Draco replied. Now one step in front of the other, that's the way.

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned heavily on the banister as he took the stairwell one step at a time. Once Harry reached the bottom he was panting and sweating. It had taken more effort than he'd have imagined. His stomach growled suspiciously loud and he entered the kitchen to see Moody reading a newspaper and drinking something from his flask.

"Morning, Potter," he grumbled, not looking up. "Finding your sea legs all right?"

"Just fine," Harry replied. "Do we have something to eat here, I'm starving to death."

Moody looked over his paper at Harry with skeptical eyes. "Ginny wouldn't like it if you were up. I'm going to get in trouble."

Harry looked at him for a moment then chuckled.

Moody let out a grunt of amusement and said, "Sit down, boy-o. I'll get you something that'll fill ya up."

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked.

"Albus wanted to talk with her so she's having tea with him," Moody replied. "She's worried about you. Never seen her take so much interest in anything before. Feel lucky boy-o, I think she likes you."

"I hope so," Harry said with a sigh.

Yeah, fascinating, Draco said impatiently. But what is Moody really like?

Harry had to keep himself from breaking out into laughter at Draco's experience with "Moody."

Getting turned into a ferret once not enough for you, Draco? Harry asked mirthfully.

To Harry's surprise, he could feel Draco's anger and rage at the statement.

Well he isn't as bad as people make him out to be, Harry said seriously. He's fairly normal really, and smart too. Sure he checks all his food for poison, even if he makes it, but everyone has their quirks. If you see past the fake eye, scarred skin, and wooden leg, he's a pretty cool guy. He got some magical healing after his experience in our fourth year and is practically as good as new.

So he's pretty cool, eh?

Yeah, but strict. He was a Slytherin you know.

Otherwise I wouldn't care, Draco said simply. I've always wondered what the early Slytherin were like. You know, the ones before Voldemort insulted our house.

Harry snorted mentally.

What? You think all Slytherin were always bad? I'll have you know many self respecting witches and wizards came out of that house.

Moody set a huge plate of food in front of Harry before checking it for poison and Harry nodded his thanks and dug in.

I didn't know, Harry said. I didn't care. Nothing could ever make me want to be in that house.

Now sure, Draco argued. But Moody is a real Slytherin. The type of Slytherin people respected; not only feared but respected.

Fine, Harry conceded. Then as an after thought, I don't tell many people this, (but as seeing I'm basically the only person you can talk to) but the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin. Said I'd do great in that house.

It was Draco's turn to snort. The Sorting Hat is on crack. You belong in Gryffindor. Maybe if you were born one hundred years ago you should have been in Slytherin, but you're a Gryffindor. You're the true blue hero type, the Boy Who Lived sort. Get what I'm saying?

I get it, Harry said. But it makes you wonder.

I don't know what it makes you do, but it makes me puke, Draco said simply.

Harry shrugged mentally.

Hey, Draco said, changing the conversation, there's Virginia. I'm going to go and get some butter popcorn; this promises to be a show. And I'm sure Moody can fix chewed off ears. She has a mean right hook by the way. Good luck!

Just as Draco said that, Ginny walked in the kitchen door and stopped dead in her tracks. Then she turned to Moody.

"Alastor," she said with feigned pleasantness. "What is Harry doing out of bed? I though I told you to keep an eye on him."

"'S not my fault. He got up by himself," Moody said casually, not even looking up from his paper. "Besides, I did keep an eye on him. He just left the room. I'm to damn lazy to put him back up there, that's all."

Ginny cocked her hips and put a hand on one of them. Turning to Harry she raised an eyebrow.

Harry licked his lips and shifted his eyes before looking her in the face. "Well you weren't home and I was rather hungry..." he trailed off.

"So if you're feeling so good why don't you just go take a shower? You smell. And try to rest some more." Then she turned back around walked right out of the house.

Harry sighed and received a sympathetic look from Moody before heading upstairs to shower.

~~~

"We can't risk it, Alastor," Dumbledore said in a tired voice. Moody had never seen him more tired...ever.

"She needs to get out of the house, if only for a while," Moody argued. "And Potter too."

"No," Dumbledore replied. "I can't risk them and I can't risk the people it would take to guard them. They can have a vacation when this all ends."

"If this all ends," Moody grunted.

"She was very convincing though," Dumbledore mused.

"I expect she was," Moody chuckled. "I also expect she was very angry when you said no."

"Right in one," the headmaster replied. "She said I was an 'oppressive son of a bitch with no conscious and no morals.' She's very articulate, is she not?"

Moody nodded and leaned back in his seat. "And Arabella? Any news from her?"

"None," Dumbledore replied. "The Sudetenlands are fairly secluded, no news in, no news out sort of place. I expect she'll find some way of communicating. I assume you've heard the same."

Moody nodded. "Not much. Vector contacted me the other day. She looked...upset."

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Yes, she stormed in my private rooms about three in the morning demanding I explain 'those Merlinforsaken, bastard runes.' I had to lead her back to her rooms and forcibly pry each of her fingers from the notes. I'm sad to say she had some sort of mental break down after that and needed to be sent to Mungo's. Ah, well, I can always have Minerva teach Arithmacy, or I could myself."

"Undoubtedly," Moody replied, trying to maintain a straight face.

"Do you remember our mutual Potions Master, Professor Arcturus, Alastor?" Dumbledore questioned.

Moody smirked at this. "I hated that bastard. Everyone hated that bastard. Not only that, he hated everyone. He especially didn't like you. Said there was 'something decidedly not right about a boy who could smile while doing detention,' if I can remember correctly."

"And you took great pleasure in calling him the Great Hellion Blood-Sucking Bat," Dumbledore countered. "At any rate, his grandson, who lives in San Francisco, his wife just gave birth to a little girl."

"And?" Moody prompted.

"She had purple eyes," Dumbledore said. "Ring any bells?"

"The Messiah?" Moody asked sharply.

"Indeed."

Moody sat straighter in his seat. "Ginny spoke of her, told me she'd be born soon. What does it mean, Albus?"

"Traditionally, the Messiah's birth signals an end and beginning," Dumbledore replied. "Just like the wizard Jesus Christ, surely you remember him, Alastor."

"He had purple eyes?"

"He wore a glamour for public," Dumbledore said. "But moving on. I think this girl signals hope. Do you know what she was named? Capella. Capella Arcturus the Messiah."

"So it has begun," Moody said with a sigh. Looking at the clock it was nearly two in the morning, he needed to get home sometime.

"Most decidedly," Dumbledore said echoing his sigh. "Most decidedly."

~~~

"NOOO!!!!"

Harry woke from a fitful sleep with his scar burning maliciously. Wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand he painfully disengaged himself from his sheets.

Voldemort held Ginny by the throat a few feet from the ground. She was fighting valiantly, kicking and doing her best to throw punches and grab for her wand at the same time. She was bloody and broken, her fiery red hair mixing with deep red blood oozing from an open head-wound.

Harry bolted from the bed, his scar burning like it never had before.

Her legs were barely kicking now; then she dropped her wand on the ground in surrender. Then Voldemort looked right at him and licked the blood from Ginny face, savoring it and smiling the whole time.

"Come to me, Potter. Come save your love," the dark man said with a smirk, red eyes glinting maniacally.

Harry collapsed with his back against the wall, his palm pressed to his forehead trying to stop the throbbing evil.

Voldemort smoothed the hair away from Ginny's neck and smelled it briefly, taking a lick with his long black tongue. Eyes on Harry, he sank his fanged teeth into Ginny's neck and ravaged it mercilessly. Mouth bathed in Ginny's blood, "Come to me, Potter-boy! Come!"

"No," Harry repeated softly. "No, just a dream. Just a dream. JUST A DREAM VOLDEMORT! YOU CAN'T SCARE ME!"

Ripping his shirt over his head, Harry staggered to the bathroom and drenched his face, neck, and chest in cool water, trying desperately to forget the images.

Voldemort let Ginny drop to the floor. Her body lay limp on the ground, her face turned to him. It was deathly pale, the color of the moon in winter. Her brown eyes were glazed and her lips partially open.

Harry closed his eyes, willing the images away. It had to be a trick, Moody wouldn't let this happen.

Voldemort drew his wand and grinned at Harry, pointing it down at Ginny. His black tongue licked his lips. "Cavcadious!" he cried. A great quake seemed to hit the earth and Ginny's chest opened, her ribs bending outwards grotesquely.

"No..." Harry whispered. "No more!"

Voldemort reached into Ginny's chest cavity and ripped her heart cleanly from hit.

Harry couldn't take it any more. Not even bothering to put on his glasses he grabbed his wand and Apparated directly to Moody's house.

Landing on the moonlit porch he looked out at the lawn and saw she wasn't out. Harry frantically opened the door and jumped the stairs three at a time to Ginny's room, she had to be there; she just had too!

"Ginny!" he shouted outside the door as he pounded on it. "Ginny! Answer me, Gin!"

A confused, but still beautiful Ginny opened the door and Harry caught his breath. She was alive.

"Harry? What's wrong, what's happened?" she asked urgently when he didn't speak.

"You're alive," he practically sobbed. His scar still burning, he fell on his knees before her and grabbed her around the waist, burying his head in her stomach. "I thought he'd gotten you!" he moaned into her small form. "It was just a dream...just a dream..."

It took Ginny a moment to respond to this, but she eventually put one hand on his head and smoothed his damp hair down. "I'm fine, Harry. Just fine. It's all alright, no worries."

Breathing in her scent, Harry pulled her closer, he could hear her heart beating under her ribs. "He'd killed you," Harry continued into her stomach. "And I just watched."

"Sh," Ginny said patiently. "I'm right here, with you."

She smoothed his black hair from his forehead, forcing him to look up at her. Her face was perfect and calm, inviting and warm. She wound her fingers in his hair then ran her fingers over his scar. It felt like cool water, bliss in other words. The memories were dying as he looked into her eyes. He was lost in them. They looked so big, so warm, so loving. He couldn't force himself to not believe at some level she didn't love him, he just couldn't.

"Right here with you, Harry," she repeated in a soothing voice.

Her head and eyes followed his as he stood up. He liked the way her eyes looked when they were looking up at him better. So full of trust and desire they startled him, but in a good way. Her eyes still on his she licked her lips lightly, sending a chill down Harry's spine. Merlin, he wanted her. Seeing her gone only reminded him of that. Now she was here, alone with him...

She closed her eyes and opened them again slowly; the effect devastating on him as her eyes returned clouded over with lust and need...for him. After what seemed like an eternity, he brought his lips down to hers and kissed her tentatively. Her lips welcomed his warmly, her sweet smell filling his nose instantly. But when his blood really got pumping, was when he pulled back and her lips followed his as far as they could and her eyes fluttered open to stare at him with unmasked passion, her breath as hot on his lips, quick and shallow.

"Ginny..." he breathed out.

"Don't stop," Ginny said in a whisper. "Please, Harry."

He wanted to say something to the effect of, "don't worry I can't," or, "never," but his lips were busy doing something else. Kissing her a bit more forcefully, he brought her closer to him and felt her shiver deliciously in return.

Nipping his bottom lip lightly, she pulled him down to her farther. Then she brushed her cheek against his as her lips traveled to his ear. "Make love to me, Harry," she whispered.

It didn't take any more than that. Kissing her jaw and under her chin he made his way to her sweet and luscious lips. His tongue outlining her lips gently, she let him in and sighed as his tongue met hers. Exploring every sugary crevice of her mouth, Harry felt delicate hands winding up his bare shoulder blades and into her hair. Her thigh brushed lightly against his, threatening to make him come before he even entered her.

Harry bit his lip as she trailed white hot kisses down his neck, tracing his collar bone, occasionally nipping at it. He breathed out suddenly and became very aware that he was without shirt and she still had one. Reaching for his wand to help him out, he felt it fall to the floor and decided to go at it the old fashioned way...button by button. His concentration wasn't helped at all by the fact that Ginny's fingers were making their way around his striped pajama bottoms experimentally.

(A/N: This scene isn't appropriate for FF.net or FA.org. You can find it in Adultfanfiction.net under Pentheslea or e-mail me. Thanks!)

Collapsing on her, Harry felt her sporadic breaths on his chest as she caught her breath. Her hands moved slowly around his neck and she held on to him urgently. Her lips quivering against his ear, she whispered softly, "I love you, Harry Potter."

Harry kissed her with all the energy he had left then put his forehead on hers. "I've been waiting a long time for that."

She closed her eyes and swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"I know," he replied. "I know."

Then he slipped out of her and drew the covers from the bottom of the bed. She threw her arms around his neck again and nestled her head under his chin. Harry could feel her heart beat against his chest.

All was right. For once, all was right.

~~~

Moody got home and was surprised to see the porch door open. Frowning he looked around the house. Upon seeing Ginny's open door he peered in to find two figures lying in her bed, very much tangled together and very much asleep.

Shaking his head, he closed the door and turned off the lights with a wave of his wand. "You'd think they'd have enough sense to close the damn door. It was bound to happen sooner or later...glad it happened while I wasn't at home."