The Awakening Power

* * *

Voices were buzzing around him... Harry floated in semi-consciousness, barely feeling a part of his own body. He felt extremely weak, but even that vaguely coherent thought took too much energy. Harry wondered hazily where he was; he couldn't remember anything recent. Voices around him... Finally deciding it took too much effort to think, he tried to listen to the voices, which were near him...

"He's a tough bloke, that one," someone said. "Amazing he survived."

"Did you hear the rumors? They say he dueled You-Know-Who wizard-to-wizard - and won!" someone else replied.

"The Ministry's trying to keep it quiet, but supposedly the Daily Prophet is going to put out a special edition."

"Merlin's beard, look at him. Poor boy..."

"Believe it or not, You-Know-Who got the worst of it."

"Worse than that?!"

"Yep. An Auror friend told me that You-Know-Who lost his whole bleedin' wand arm! The war's not over, but I'm feeling a lot better about things, you know?"

"Perhaps... but how much more can Potter take? It seems so unfair that a sixteen year old boy has to be such a target."

"No one ever said You-Know-Who was fair. But if anyone's up to the task, it's him. Anyone who can stand toe-to-toe with Dumbledore and You-Know-Who in the same month is made of sterner stuff than anyone."

Harry fell back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Ginny sat on a chair beside the hospital bed, watching Harry's chest rise and fall as he slept. Tears had been flowing regularly from her eyes, although at the moment she felt somewhat calm. His broken, battered body looked horrible. One side of his body and face had severe burns, and were currently covered with a glowing, green salve. One of his legs had been re-broken and set; the Healer wizards had been very worried that he might be crippled.

His left arm had suffered some severe nerve damage from a freezing spell, and his right hand had to be almost re-grown. Both were currently immobilized. Angry purple bruises ran across his entire body, as well as many cuts that hadn't yet been healed. There had been higher priorities than mere cuts.

It had been very touch-and-go for the first twelve hours. Ginny could tell from the look in the Healers' eyes that they didn't think Harry was going to make it. Even though she was deathly frightened, somehow she knew he would pull through. Harry was too strong; she knew that he would never give up fighting to live. He would never allow himself to die at Voldemort's hand.

She gazed around the enormous, private room. Minister Ragnok had St. Mungo's close off a block of three of the most expensive suites, and then had the walls removed to create one huge space. Ragnok had also called the world's best Healer specialists to Apparate in from all over the world to make certain Harry got the best care. The best burn Healer, the best bone specialist, the best hand specialist... nothing but the best. Supposedly, once they had heard they were working on Harry Potter, they had volunteered their time and refused any sort of payment from the goblins.

Ginny blew out a long breath. She was close to crying again, so she blew her nose instead. Ron and Hermione had gone down with her family to get a bite to eat; they had asked her to come, but she didn't feel like eating. She didn't feel as though she'd ever be able to leave until she knew that Harry was totally out of the woods and conscious. Hermione had given her a few snacks to nibble on. That was enough for now.

It was now about thirty hours since the end of the battle. After the Healers had told them that Harry would make it, Ginny had cried with relief against her mum's shoulder, and Hermione had cried on Ron's shoulder, and she thought she might've even seen a few tears in Ron's eyes as well. Ginny finally fell asleep from exhaustion. She awoke ten hours later lying on a waiting room couch, still exhausted, but wanting to see Harry.

The hospital staff hadn't wanted to let her, but she had vehemently insisted. Ginny suspected that they didn't want her to see Harry in his present state, but she didn't care about that. All she knew was that Harry needed her. Even if he was unconscious, he needed her and his friends by his side.

Ginny heard a tiny sound behind her, a clearing of a throat, interrupting her reverie. She turned and saw Dumbledore standing at the door respectfully, a tender expression on his face. He slowly walked over and gazed down at Harry. He reached down and held Harry's left hand for a moment, giving it a squeeze.

He blew out a tired breath, pulling up a chair and sitting with Ginny. She thought he appeared very old and frail at that moment, somehow more human than usual. They both silently watched Harry for a few moments.

"Hello, Miss Weasley," said Dumbledore softly.

"Professor," she responded, equally softly.

"We haven't had a good talk since the end of your first year, have we?"

"No, sir," said Ginny. She paused, and said, "I never thanked you for your kindness after... that incident. I thought a lot about what you said that summer."

"Not at all," said Dumbledore. "You were remarkably strong then, you know. And you were remarkably strong now."

Ginny shrugged, not really caring right now about what she had done. But she did have a question for him, one that had been preying on her mind quite a bit.

"Sir," she started, but wasn't quite certain how to put it.

"Yes?" Dumbledore asked.

"Just... why?" asked Ginny tentatively. Then suddenly all her anger and bitterness seemed to pour out of her. "Why! Why Harry? He is so... good. Why does he have to suffer like this? He's suffered all his bloody life! It's not fair! Who chose Harry to be the subject of that damned prophecy?"

Dumbledore sighed, looking at her compassionately. "Miss Weasley - Ginny - prophecies don't 'choose' people. They simply tell us what is to happen. Harry has the free will to not meet Voldemort. He could run away to a deserted island. He could hide in a cave for the rest of his life. But that's not what is to happen.

"He will embrace the responsibility because that is his nature. The same nature that led him to try and save Sirius, and to save you from the Chamber of Secrets. He is the one because only someone like him, who is brave, powerful, and yes, intrinsically good, can defeat Voldemort."

Ginny could feel tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at Harry's battered body, knowing that Harry would gladly pay the price again, even the ultimate price, if it meant ridding the world of Voldemort.

"Harry is not alone in this," Dumbledore continued. "He is at the center, but we all have a vital role to play. He needs the love and strength of all his friends, but he needs yours perhaps most of all."

"I know," said Ginny, her tears starting to flow freely, the words tumbling out of her. "That's why I'm crying now. I don't want him to suffer anymore, but I know that he's going to have to before all this is done. I need to cry it all out now, because he needs me to be strong for him when he wakes up. I don't want him to wake up to crying over his pain, I want him to wake up to happiness over him living."

Dumbledore rose and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. He gazed upon Harry for another few seconds, then left. Ginny gently touched Harry's face, trying somehow to take away some of his pain, then put her head down on his bed and wept silently.

* * *

Harry slowly woke, feeling a little stronger, but still very weak. He opened his eyes, seeing a dimly lit ceiling above him. He was in a bed, but he wasn't quite certain where; his recent memories felt very fuzzy. Had something happened?

He turned his head, seeing a large, mostly empty room around him. A huge arrangement of flowers was in a corner. Terrible memories abruptly came back to him... Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Remus... they were all in trouble. A feeling of panic came over him; he couldn't remember what had happened... Harry heard himself make a low noise as he struggled to move, but he was too weak to rise...

"Harry?" a voice said softly. A hand stroked his hair. He turned to the source of the voice and relief filled him as he saw Ginny standing next to the bed. And next to Ginny were Ron and Hermione. He saw Ginny's reassuring, gentle smile, and knew that everything was all right. Ron and Hermione were smiling, too. The tension left his body as he relaxed.

"Ginny?" he asked weakly. "Ron? Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry, we're all here," Hermione said. "Everyone is all right. Professor Lupin is fine, too. He'll be here soon."

"How do you feel, mate?" Ron asked.

"Okay," Harry whispered in reply. He actually felt very numb all over and had no idea how he really was. He felt himself slipping back into unconsciousness, but fought to stay awake a few more seconds. "Where am I?" he said, really wanting to know.

"St. Mungo's," Ginny said, still stroking his hair. "They're taking really good care of you, Harry. You can just rest. There's nothing to worry about. Everything is fine."

Everything is fine, he thought, the words giving him comfort as he fell asleep again.

* * *

A few days later, Harry reflected that he was feeling a lot better, although still somewhat weak. He still couldn't walk; the bone Healer had told him that it would be a few weeks before his leg could bear weight. Apparently the combination of the crushing injury with the emergency healing spell had made quite a mess of his leg.

The rest of his body was continuing to heal as well. When he'd finally managed to look in a mirror, he'd been appalled by his appearance. The Healers assured him that he'd have no significant lasting scars, except for perhaps a few in unnoticeable places. Harry still had visions of looking like Mad-Eye Moody by the time it was all done, however.

He'd had a steady stream of visitors, including Remus, the Weasleys, Tonks, Mad-Eye, and even his Auror friends, Page, MacGregor and Blackhorn. He'd also had many visitors from the school; Dumbledore had arranged for a special Portkey between the hospital and Hogwarts, and Harry was very grateful. Dumbledore had visited him a few times, but had begged off answering any questions, saying that he wanted to verify a few more facts.

Remus had looked almost hesitant about visiting, and had apologized profusely for not preventing the Gringotts attack. Harry had been quick to reassure him that he held him blameless, that no one could have anticipated what had happened.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny were currently off at class, although they spent all their free time with Harry, even bringing their homework. Hermione had set up a few work desks in the spacious room, causing Ron to roll his eyes to Harry's amusement. Harry's hand and arm were still too damaged for any significant work, and truth be told, he wasn't feeling particularly up to it. Fortunately, Hermione seemed to sense that he needed a little mental break and didn't push him on that subject. Or perhaps Ron or Ginny had talked to her, he wasn't positive.

Suddenly his door swung open and a crowd of Hogwarts girls came through the door, carrying a number of boxes. Harry, whose hospital gown didn't cover him as well as he would like, pulled his covers up a little higher in embarrassment.

Parvati, Ginny, Hermione and Lavender walked up to his bed in the lead, while all the other girls crowded around him with smiles, some giggling. There were at least thirty girls in the room.

"Um, what's going on?" Harry asked nervously.

"After visiting you yesterday, I noticed what a drab room this was," Parvati said brightly. "I asked for some volunteers to help decorate!" The girls all nodded and the younger ones giggled shyly some more. Ginny and Hermione grinned as if they were enjoying the whole thing just a little too much.

"Erm, all right. I guess," Harry said uncertainly.

He noticed that they weren't all Gryffindor girls; in fact, as the girls got to work opening up boxes and decorating the room, he noticed with shock that two of them had a Slytherin crest. They looked very shy as they stood away from the other girls a little, but were helping to open the boxes.

"Ginny, Hermione," Harry called, beckoning to them. They walked over and greeted him. "Erm, are those Slytherin girls?"

"Strange, isn't it?" Ginny said. "But you'd be surprised at the change around Hogwarts, Harry. Ever since the attack, things have been much less tense with the Slytherins. Apparently a lot of them were afraid of the threats Malfoy had been making, but lately they've been much more open in support of you. When we put out the word for volunteers, they insisted on coming."

Harry nodded, still feeling a little odd about Slytherins wanting to do something for him, though he had to admit that Silsbee from his D.A. meetings had helped him, too.

"Do you remember the Sorting Hat song, Harry?" Hermione asked musingly. "It warned about distrusting everyone. I think this year we've seen the houses beginning to pull together against Voldemort."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said, not completely convinced. He looked over to the Slytherin girls, who looked innocent enough. They appeared to be fourth years. He recalled the picture of Bellatrix he'd seen at Black Mansion, still young and innocent. Harry wondered if she would have turned out differently, if the houses hadn't been quite as isolated.

"What are their names? The Slytherin girls?" Harry asked suddenly.

"The one with blonde hair is Karen, and the brunette is Monica," Hermione replied.

Harry called out their names. They looked startled, as if they were hoping to stay unnoticed. The two girls walked over to his bed.

"I just wanted to say thank you for coming," Harry said, giving them a friendly smile.

They smiled very shyly back at him, both blushing profusely. Finally Monica glanced at Karen and spoke nervously. "W-We just wanted you to know that not all Slytherins are You-Know-Who supporters. Some of us appreciate what you're doing for everyone."

Harry nodded at them. "You're welcome here any time."

* * *

Harry looked up from his chess game with Ron as Dumbledore and Ragnok entered the room. Hermione was off helping Ginny with some OWL revision in the Hogwarts library. Ginny had been reluctant to leave Harry, but she knew that she'd fallen behind after taking care of him, and Hermione was helping her to catch up. Her OWL tests were coming up fast, and Harry had encouraged her to go.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley. Keeping Mr. Potter company, I see. Would you be kind enough to excuse us for a few minutes?" asked Dumbledore.

"Um, yeah, no problem," Ron said, getting up from the bed. "See you a little later, right, mate?"

"All right, Ron. Thanks," said Harry, wondering what was up with Dumbledore and Ragnok as Ron left the room, closing the door.

"Mr. Potter," said Minister Ragnok, shaking his hand solemnly. "I would have visited sooner, but I wanted to have some answers to give you.

"First, allow me to extend the deepest and most sincere apology to you over this incident on behalf of the goblin government. I consider it shameful and inexcusable that you and your friends were put in harm's way while under Gringotts' care.

"And, of course, I must thank you for uncovering Voldemort's plan. If he had succeeded, it would have destroyed Gringotts."

Harry nodded. "I've been wondering something. Why were the goblins cooperating with Voldemort, if it would have destroyed Gringotts?" Harry looked between Dumbledore and Ragnok.

"An excellent question, Mr. Potter, and one of the first questions that we asked the goblins that we captured," answered Ragnok. "To be honest, we're still piecing together the puzzle, but apparently the conspiracy extended far beyond anything we anticipated.

"Voldemort's plan was to wreck the wizarding economy, to flood the market with fake Galleons as well as manufactured gold. This would have caused runaway inflation, triggering an economic crisis. The anarchy that would have resulted would have made it very difficult to raise armies against him.

"But it wasn't enough to have a method to create gold. He also needed a hidden place where he could not only manufacture the gold, but also quietly distribute it into the economy so that it would not be noticed. In short, he needed Gringotts.

"So how could he get goblins to cooperate with him? The answer is that he found goblins who wanted more power that they currently held. He made promises that once the wizarding world fell, a new currency would be issued. The rogue goblins would be put in charge of a new Gringotts, to replace the old one.

"But here is where the story grows much deeper. Voldemort's long-term plan is to rid the world of Muggles completely, to gradually build up a population of wizards to serve him.

"These goblins apparently had a secret plan to betray Voldemort sometime in the future. Once the human population had been reduced, they desired to remake the Earth into a goblin-only civilization. You see, many goblins blame wizards for the ills of the world. Frankly, there is some legitimate blame there, as I believe Dumbledore would say is a fair assessment."

Dumbledore nodded his head, apparently content to allow Ragnok to explain at this time.

"Of course, Voldemort trusted his goblin allies as much as the goblins trusted him, so it's unclear exactly how they planned to overthrow Voldemort. Garnak never met with the leaders of this rogue goblin organization, only with some of the lower members. We believe the leaders are still out there. There is much we don't know, I'm afraid.

"One last thing, Mr. Potter. All this has had one positive effect. The goblin population is now firmly behind you. Having Voldemort threaten to destroy Gringotts shocked them to the core. They now realize that Voldemort cannot be trusted, and must be defeated."

Ragnok paused. "In short, we are in your debt."

Ragnok bowed deeply and exited the room, leaving Harry and Dumbledore alone. Harry's brain buzzed from all the new information as Dumbledore pulled up a chair and sat down tiredly.

"Well, Harry, how do you feel?" he asked.

Harry thought about it. "Confused," he said honestly.

Dumbledore chuckled sympathetically. "I can imagine. Well, I think I have a few answers for you now."

"Sir, what was that wand Voldemort had? The goblins told me it was 'attuned' to me in some way. His spells seemed to be drawn to me."

Dumbledore reached into his robe and pulled out Voldemort's wand, handing it to Harry. He turned it over in his hands, noticing that it had some writing on it, inlaid in gold. A chill went down his spine as he read the words: Harry James Potter, Son of James, Son of Lily.

"That wand makes your victory all the more remarkable, Harry," Dumbledore explained. "Voldemort used an ancient brand of magic called Voodoo that originated in Africa, although it's now primarily practiced in Haiti, and a city called New Orleans in the United States. Voodoo magic has many Dark Arts spells for attuning a magical object to a specific person.

"They are very difficult spells to master, but when a wand is attuned in this way, it causes the spells to be drawn to the body of the victim. But not only that, it also has an amplification effect. Voldemort's curses, cast with that wand, would have been particularly powerful against you."

Harry just looked at the wand, gleaming in the light of the room. It was beautiful in its way, obviously made with great craftsmanship. Who had made it? Were there wand makers that supported Voldemort? He supposed there had to be.

"The good news, Harry, is that Voldemort's plan backfired beyond anything we could have hoped for. Voldemort wasn't taking any chances this time; he obviously made that wand for the specific purpose of killing you. But you not only survived, you also captured the wand. Having that wand in your possession gives you tremendous power over him.

"I might also say that his, er, severed limb is also quite useful. It was taken to the Department of Mysteries to be analyzed. They believe they may be able to learn something useful about the modifications that Voldemort made to himself."

Dumbledore's face suddenly fell into a stern frown. "I must say, Harry, that we replayed the spells that you used at the end of the battle. Silicis Demolirum? Do you really think that was... prudent? There's a reason that spell is never used in duels - you left yourself completely helpless. Some would say that tactic you used was reckless and irresponsible." He paused.

Harry looked down at his bed, feeling abashed.

"And others would say that only a true Gryffindor would have tried something so daring and audacious," Dumbledore said, his mouth lifting into an amused smile. "I believe I can safely say that Godric Gryffindor would have heartily approved."

Harry laughed. "Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time, though I had my doubts afterward."

"Indeed. That was quite the tunnel you created as well, Harry," Dumbledore said. "The goblins measured that it stretched a mile and a half. I believe they are interested in hiring you to do some more tunneling for them."

Harry snorted. "I don't think I'll be using that spell again anytime soon."

Dumbledore grew serious again. "Remember this, Harry. What's remarkable is that you were weak and he could have tried to kill you, had he kept his head. But he panicked. Voldemort may seem inhuman, but he still has certain human flaws and emotions. No one has ever stood up to him the way you did, and he did not handle it well."

There was a long pause as that thought sunk in. "Sir," Harry started. "He's still alive. I almost lost. I hit him with everything I had, the most powerful spell I knew, and he still lived. How can I defeat him? I know you said you would tell me when you felt the time was right."

Dumbledore looked at him, the wise old eyes looking sad. "Yes. You understand now that endless dueling cannot defeat Voldemort. He is too strong, too knowledgeable, too intelligent. He has taken many measures against dying. If it could be done that way, I would have done it in the last war. Though, I must say, you came about as close to doing it as anyone.

"You will recall that I told you last year that there was a room in the Department of Mysteries that is always kept locked. That room holds the key to all this, and I believe you are now ready to see what is contained in that room.

"I did not wish you to have to prematurely fight Voldemort, Harry. But you have now been tested, the ultimate test with the highest stakes, and you passed that test better than anyone could have expected. You've made a remarkable journey this year; your powers have fully flourished."

A thought occurred to Harry. "Sir, why did you challenge me to that duel?"

"I felt you were ready. I wanted you to use your power in a pressure situation, or at least, as much of a pressure situation as I could create under artificial circumstances. You needed an opportunity to use your powers to their fullest extent - to spread your wings."

Dumbledore paused, an oddly pensive look on his face, before he continued.

"I will tell you the answers you seek, Harry, but not today. You must go back to Privet Drive one last time. When you return to school next year, you will see for yourself what is in the room," Dumbledore finished.

Harry nodded reluctantly; frustrated that he still did not have any answers, but at least knew that there was a time that answers would be given.

* * *

"Well, good night, you two," Hermione said.

"Yeah. We'll come by tomorrow for breakfast, before classes," Ron said.

"All right. Thanks for coming," Harry said, smiling.

Ginny gave them a good bye as well as she began to clean up a bit around Harry's bed. They had all been playing exploding snap and chatting all evening, keeping Harry company, but the hour had grown late.

"Ginny, you really don't have to stay anymore," Harry said, a bit reluctantly, she thought.

"I kind of like this enormous room," she said with a grin. "It beats the tiny dormitories at Hogwarts."

Harry smiled at her shyly, causing her to know that she was making the right decision. He wanted her to stay. She had been sleeping on a folding bed next to him since he had moved to the room, to the consternation of the hospital staff. They had tried to get her to leave, but she had insisted, finally going to Dumbledore and insisting that he do something on her behalf. Dumbledore had been reluctant as well, but Ginny had been persistent, playing on the fact that the last thing Harry needed right now was to be alone, the way he had always had to deal with things all his life. She felt a little guilty for playing on Dumbledore's guilt that way, but she didn't care. It was still true, and finally Dumbledore had talked to the staff, and they had reluctantly agreed to allow her to stay.

Ginny went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth, changing into some modest pajamas that she had brought from Hogwarts. She hadn't lied about enjoying the large suite; in fact, the bathroom had a very large bathtub she wouldn't mind trying. I wonder if Harry would enjoy a bath rather than those dull cleaning spells, she snickered to herself, the thought firing her imagination a bit too much.

She came back out, and Harry smiled at her, looking very happy that she was there. The torches had automatically dimmed as they sensed that the occupants of the room were getting ready to sleep. Ginny sat on the edge of the bed, pulling up Harry's covers as he burrowed down into his pillow, getting comfortable.

Ginny reached out and touched his face, running her fingers over his nose, cheek and lips. She knew that he really enjoyed being touched in that way. Harry sighed as she leaned down and kissed him passionately, being careful not to put too much weight on him.

They finally broke away. "Good night, Harry," she whispered. "I love you. Sleep well."

"Good night. I love you, too," Harry said.

She got into her folding bed, which was actually fairly comfortable with several thick blankets. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep after all the recent eventful days.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Ginny awoke, hearing some noises. She looked around, disoriented, and then realized it was Harry. He was thrashing around in the bed in a very agitated way, apparently having a nightmare.

Ginny got up off her folding bed and sat on the edge of his bed. "Harry," she whispered gently. "Wake up... it's all right." She began stroking his hair.

His eyes flew wide open. He tried to sit up, but then lay back down with a painful groan.

"Ginny?" he asked in a panicked voice. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Shhhh, Harry, I'm here. It was just a bad dream," she said in soothing voice.

"Everyone is... still alive?" Harry asked desperately.

"Yes, we're all okay. Ron, Hermione and Professor Lupin are all alive and well," she said, her gentle voice calming him.

"All okay? All okay. Yeah..." Harry said, starting to calm a bit.

Ginny raised his covers and climbed into bed with him, pulling him closer to her. "It's all right, Harry," she said. "I'm here."

Harry turned and rested his head on her shoulder. She could feel his breath on her neck; he was breathing very rapidly. Ginny held him gently for several minutes, stroking his head until he calmed down a little.

"I think this is against the rules," Harry said, sounding slightly amused.

"To hell with the rules," Ginny said, happy to hear Harry sounding a little more normal as she pulled him to her. Harry seemed to agree with the sentiment as he burrowed closer to her.

"Thank you for staying with me, Ginny," he whispered. He paused and said, "Not very heroic right now, am I?"

"Harry, you can't do it all by yourself," she said gently. "Nothing says you have to suffer alone through this." She continued stroking his hair, and then chuckled. "Of all the things to worry about, I don't think you need to be concerned about not being heroic enough."

There was a long silence, until Ginny felt his breathing grow very regular. He was asleep again. Rather than wake him, she shifted a little and got comfortable herself. To hell with rules, she thought again, as she drifted off back to sleep.

Ginny slowly awoke the next morning, feeling warm against Harry's body. She kept her eyes closed, just enjoying the safe, nestled feeling. I could get used to this, she thought with a smile.

She suddenly heard a small snicker. Her eyes snapped open, and, to her horror, she saw her Mum, Dad, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Ron and Hermione all gathered around the bed, watching Harry and her sleep, all with wide grins, although her Mum looked like she was fighting between amusement and disapproval.

Harry began to stir. "Ginny?" he asked sleepily, opening his eyes, but then they shot open as well as he saw who their audience was. Harry turned red as a beet, and she felt her own face burning as well.

"Well, I see Harry needed a bit of special attention last night," said Fred.

"He's looking better already. Does St. Mungo's know about this treatment?" asked George, with raised eyebrows.

"And to think I was considering bringing an extra blanket," said Fred.

"We know how cold these rooms can be," said George.

"But apparently Harry has found his own source of... heat," said Fred.

Ginny looked desperately at her Mum, but she had her hand over her mouth, apparently fighting back a laugh as well as amusement won out over her disapproval. She would not be receiving any help from that corner. Ginny took a deep breath, and, with whatever dignity she could muster, she casually slid out of the bed, adjusting her rumpled clothes to send the message that, yes, she was fully clothed in her pajamas.

Later on, Harry ate his breakfast while chatting with the Weasleys. Bill had visited him earlier, but hadn't yet told his side of the story.

"So I'm curse testing this chamber," Bill said. "The goblins had been really putting pressure on us to find 'something,' but they wouldn't tell us exactly what. I've no idea how much they knew, or if they were just trying to keep things as quiet as possible. I've been working seven days a week. The overtime pay was nice, but I was getting ready to tell the goblins to sod off, frankly.

"Anyway, I hear this ruckus outside the chamber. Johnny, my curse-partner, runs into the chamber, and who do I see behind him? Actually, Ginny was a little hard to recognize, covered in all that dirt and blood. If it wasn't for the hair, I'd've thought it was a midget troll."

Everyone laughed, including Ginny, who said, "Afterward, that was the best bath I've ever had."

"I think you frightened poor Johnny," Bill said with a grin. "You should have seen her, Harry. She had her wand in his back, marching him like a drill sergeant."

Harry laughed, causing Ginny to break out in a sheepish smile. "Well, I was in a hurry at the time."

"Actually, I think you got his 'cauldron boiling,' if you know what I mean. He asked if you were attached," Bill said, laughing. "I told him that he had to go through Harry to get to you, and he didn't seem so keen on the idea after that."

Everyone laughed as Bill continued the story. "So Ginny quickly gives me this cock-and-bull story about You-Know-Who, secret caves, ventilation shafts, and goblin conspiracies, not to mention dragons. My first thought was, 'Fred and George put her up to this.' "

Fred and George laughed. "Not that it wasn't a good idea," said Fred.

"To be honest, I don't even think we could have come up with something like that," said George.

"I must have looked a little skeptical, because Ginny then pointed her wand at me, and gave me that look, the one she apparently inherited from Mum," Bill said.

"And it's a right good thing she has," said Mrs. Weasley. "I need the help to keep you boys in line!"

"Fortunately, Ragnok had given me a way of quickly calling for goblin reinforcements, in case we ever found anything. A number of Aurors were also in the area investigating Harry's disappearance, so they were able to help as well."

"You know, sis, if you wanted to know how to control dragons, you could have asked," Charlie said, teasingly rolling his eyes.

"Thanks, Charlie. If I ever plan on fighting the dragons under Gringotts again, you'll be the first one I consult," Ginny replied, laughing.

Harry laughed again, hard, and then grimaced, making a groaning noise as something inside him gave a sharp pain.

"Are you all right, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"I'm all right, but I think you lot are going to finish me off," Harry said with a grin. As they laughed, he felt very close to everyone in the room. Maybe his life hadn't been easy so far, but at that moment he felt very lucky.

* * *

Harry sat in his bed, poking at the remnants of his lunch. Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all in class, and he supposed he should start thinking about catching up with his own work. The Healers weren't giving him any answers on when he could leave, and he didn't want to fall too far behind. He suspected that Hermione was dying to bring him some work.

Abruptly, a knock came at the door. "Come in," Harry said, glancing over curiously.

The door swung open, and Snape swept into the room wearing his usual sneering expression. Harry tensed up at the sight; of all the people he expected, Snape was pretty low on the list.

"Professor!" Harry said, stumbling out the word in shock.

Snape looked about the room, his lip curling into a sneer. "Well, Potter. I see your fame has served you well once again. An impressive private room they've given you."

Harry felt irritation rising. Suddenly he was very tired of Snape's act, and didn't particularly feel the need to be polite. "Do you really think so? I thought it could use a better view," he said sarcastically.

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "Indeed. After all, you did manage to play the hero to the wizarding world. Every month it seems you find a new way to increase your profile."

Harry's jaw just dropped at Snape. "You really are a bloody arse!" he said angrily. "Are you seriously suggesting I went looking for Voldemort?"

"Did Professor McGonagall tell you of increased Death Eater activity or did she not, Potter?" Snape answered smoothly, ignoring Harry's insult. "And did you, or did you not, recklessly venture out, putting everyone at risk?"

Harry just continued to stare at him, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"In any case, Potter, I'm not here to point out another of your many flaws. I have brought your Defense schoolwork," Snape said, appearing annoyed at being bothered. "While I'm certain you would prefer to idly enjoy your luxurious room, I expect you to complete your studies. You have already fallen quite far behind." He dropped a large stack of books and folders next to Harry's bed.

Harry burned with irritation. "Do I get extra Defense class credit for dueling Voldemort?" he asked, with as much bitter sarcasm as he could muster.

Snape stared at him coldly, and then to Harry's extreme shock, his mouth actually rose slightly in the closest thing to an amused expression he had ever seen on Snape's face.

"Perhaps, Potter. Perhaps."

As Snape turned to leave, Harry had a sudden thought. Why was Snape here? There was absolutely no reason for him to personally bring Harry the work; he could have had anyone drop it off. Had Snape actually come by to pay some sort of respect?

For reasons that Harry didn't completely understand, he suddenly wanted to tell Snape something.

"Professor!" he called, just as Snape was heading out the door.

Snape sighed with irritation, turning back around impatiently. "Yes, Potter, what is it?"

"I just wanted you to know something," Harry said, with a neutral expression. "When I was fighting Voldemort. I remembered something you said. It helped. Thanks."

Snape's face was a mask, as he stood motionless for several seconds, his cold eyes staring back at Harry. He swallowed, but still made no movement. The silence stretched on, Harry wondering what was going through Snape's head.

Finally, Snape replied, "Well, Potter, I suppose that proves that you listened at least once in my class." With that, he turned and left the room.

Harry stared at the door for a solid minute. Finally he broke out in a wide grin, and then began laughing loudly. He really is a bastard to the core, he thought with amazement. But at least he's consistent.

* * *

Harry sighed as he finally finished his Transfiguration essay, glancing forlornly at the still-high stack of work he had to do to catch up. He had finally asked Hermione if she would see about bringing his work to him, and he thought for a minute she was going to dance a jig around the room. She had immediately pulled out a list of his backlogged work, causing Harry and Ron to fight down a laugh.

Harry was just about to start on his Charms lessons when the door swung open and Ron, Hermione and Ginny walked through the door unexpectedly, all wearing secretive smiles. Ginny was carrying a wrapped package.

"What's up?" Harry asked, peering at the package.

"You tell him, Ginny," said Hermione.

"All right," Ginny said, her smile extending a bit more. "We have something for you."

"What?" Harry replied.

Ginny handed him the package, which Harry proceeded to unwrap. He pulled a book out of the wrapping, causing his breath to catch. It was a large leather-bound book with the name 'Sirius Black' on the cover.

"We asked Ragnok for permission to search the vault for the book, and there it was," Ron said.

Harry stared at the book, hardly believing he was actually holding it.

"Thank you for this," he said, looking at each one of them and feeling emotional. "With everything that happened, I forgot about it, to tell you the truth."

"We'll leave you alone, Harry," said Ginny. "We'll come back later."

Ginny squeezed his hand, and then they left the room. Harry felt grateful that they understood his need to be alone. He traced the letters of Sirius's name on the front of the book, afraid to open it. Some essence of Sirius seemed to emanate from within the pages. Gathering his courage, he opened the diary to the first entry.

9 September 1971
Well, this is my first entry in this diary Andromeda gave me for my birthday. It seems kind of stupid, but I'm bored, though it's been a pretty exciting first week.

I guess the big news is that I was sorted into Gryffindor. I was afraid to owl Mum and Dad with the news, but I finally did. I got a return owl this morning that just said they were disappointed. I don't know what they expect. I didn't do the sorting. I'm positive my dear brother Regulus will do better when he comes to Hogwarts.

11 September 1971
My roommate James Potter and I have been studying together. He seems like a smart bloke. It's good to have a friend to study with. I didn't know what Gryffindor was going to be like. Mum and Dad have always told me nothing but bad things about them. So far, I think I like everyone here a lot more than the Slytherins.

My other roommate, Remus Lupin, seems nice enough, although he keeps to himself a lot. The last roommate is a boy named Peter Pettigrew, who seems all right. A bit mousy, but maybe he's just homesick.

Harry read the entries in fascination, covering Sirius's first year, as he and James grew closer as friends. Eventually they became friends with Remus, and finally Peter. Harry decided to skip ahead to the end. The entries got much more sparse, presumably because Sirius was busy with the Order of the Phoenix. He seemed to only write when something really significant happened.

15 January 1980
Great bloody Merlin! Lily is pregnant! And they asked me to be the Godfather! Why, I don't know, because I'm a hot-headed, irresponsible idiot, as Remus will happily explain to anyone. But ask me they did, and I'm only too happy to oblige.

Promise to self: I'm going to be a proper Godfather. No, really. You'll see. If James and Lily think I can do the job, then I'm bloody well going to live up to the confidence they're putting in me.

I have plans for this child, oh yes, I do.

31 July 1980
I would like to announce that Harry James Potter, my Godson, was born this morning. The mother is doing fine, though I'm not certain about the father, who looks a bit peaked.

He's still young, but even so, I can tell that he looks remarkably like James, except for the eyes - he has Lily's eyes.

Must sleep now. We were up all night, and Harry didn't seem to be in any hurry to enter the world.

22 March 1981
James and I bet on Harry's progress, and I usually tease him by betting against Harry, but I expect to lose every bet. There's something about this boy. I know, it sounds like the proud Godfather talking. But the accidental magic he's done... I asked Dumbledore, and even he thought it was remarkable.

The other day, he was having a temper tantrum, so Lily put him in his crib to calm him down. Well, that didn't sit well with young Harry. He splintered the side of the crib into so much kindling, and then climbed out, smug as you please.

My Godson, the jail breaker! I'm so proud.

10 April 1981
I can barely put quill to parchment right now. I can hardly even hold the thought in my mind. Dumbledore called a special meeting tonight with James, Lily and I, without the rest of the Order. He told us that a prophecy had been made a number of months ago, and Harry was one of two children it could apply to.

He wouldn't tell us the exact wording, but he gave us the gist of it. The prophecy says that Harry might be the only one who can defeat Voldemort. The only one! It's just too incredible. We begged Dumbledore to tell us that it might be a mistake, but he seemed to be certain about it. James and Lily were stunned, as you would expect.

There are so many ramifications to this. Does this mean all our plans are doomed to failure? That it's impossible for us to win without this special child?

And what does this mean to Harry? How can a child grow up with that burden - to know that he is the only one that can stop one of the most powerful, evil wizards in history? How can anyone live with that knowledge? How many people will die until he's ready?

And, God forbid, what happens if he's unsuccessful? Would Voldemort win? I refuse to accept that Voldemort might win this.

Dumbledore told us that James, Lily and Harry must go into hiding using a Fidelius Charm.

All of our plans are a shambles now. I just don't know what to do.

1 November 1981
James and Lily are dead. Harry is alive, thank God, but how can they be dead? And somehow Voldemort is gone. It's all too much to understand. I feel like a wreck. Remus is in the other room. I don't even know where Peter is, but by God, I'm going to find him, I promise that.

Everyone is calling Harry "The Boy Who Lived," a new legend right up there with Merlin. All I know is that I feel as though I should be taking care of him.

Harry, I love you and will do anything for you. Please forgive me - Dumbledore says it's for the best that you go live with these Muggle relatives of yours. I argued with him, believe me, but we have to trust him. I think he knows more than he lets on - I think he believes Voldemort is not really gone. I think he has a plan for all this.

Someday I'll make it up to you, I swear. I'll help you in any way I can to shoulder the burden that fate has for some reason given to you.

If the prophecy says that you're the one to defeat Voldemort, then as far as I'm concerned, I'll bet on the son of James and Lily Potter any day. That's one bet with James I would never take against you.

Harry swiped away a few tears threatening to fall as he closed the book. It was odd thinking that soon after Sirius wrote his last entry, he went after Peter Pettigrew, only to be betrayed and put into Azkaban.

He looked out the window of his room, a bright blue sky beckoning to him to leave the confines of his hospital room, but the world outside felt very cold somehow. The great drama that was his life seemed to begin in the pages he had just read and then stretched across the years, and was narrowing to a point in the near future. He could feel it... the war was heading inexorably toward a conclusion - soon.

Harry blew out a slow breath, opened the book again, and read from the beginning. He read of many pranks, and their journey to become Animagi. He read of Sirius's amusement at his father's pursuit of his mother. He read of Sirius staying with Harry's grandfather and grandmother, and Sirius's deep love and appreciation for them. But most of all, he read about a boy with a difficult childhood, who did many great things in the name of friendship, and who suffered a fate he didn't deserve.

* * *

Harry James Potter, Son of James, Son of Lily, the Boy-Who-Lived, dreamed.

Dark storms thundered above him as he walked around the Hogwarts grounds, the world was so dark... The wind buffeted him to and fro, threatening to blow him away, but he pulled his cloak closer. He came to the forbidden forest, moving along the edge, the dark trees with long branches that seemed to reach out to try and grab him. He could see the castle in the distance, but it was very far away.

As he walked, his leg made odd crunching noises, as if it was filled with broken glass. Harry fearfully looked around, wondering where his friends were.

A loud snap drew his attention, causing him to stop and peer into the trees. Was it Voldemort? Or perhaps Bellatrix... maybe they were holding his friends.

Dumbledore came out of the trees, looking at him sternly. "Mr. Potter! What are you doing out here without permission?"

Dumbledore grew taller and taller, towering over the forest. He reached down and picked up Harry, who flew through the air in Dumbledore's grip toward the castle. Harry landed in an open broom cupboard, the door closing and locking behind him.

"Let me out!" Harry screamed in anger.

"I will tell you when it is time to defeat Voldemort. Until then, I must insist that you stay in Mr. Filch's broom cupboard until you are needed."

Harry banged on the door with his fists and feet, but it didn't budge. He finally pulled his wand, casting a spell and destroying the door into splinters. He ran down the corridor, trying to find a way out. Where was everyone? The castle seemed to be empty.

He saw Professor McGonagall ahead. "Mr. Potter," she said crisply. "I require your presence."

Harry stopped. She was his head of house; he had to do what she said. Harry followed her into a large auditorium, where he stood in the center of the room. The ceiling rose extremely high, up into darkness. There were many, many people in the stands, all glaring at him with contempt.

"Mr. Potter," Minister Fudge said from the center of the crowd. "Why have you not vanquished the Dark Lord as yet? You've had nearly seventeen years to do it." He pulled out a parchment and began reading. "It says right here. 'Delivered to specification, one Harry Potter, built to order to defeat You-Know-Who.' "

Anger raged through Harry at Fudge's implication. "What are you talking about?" he shouted.

Fudge raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Why do you think you were born, Potter? I would say that the prophecy made your purpose quite clear. I must say, however, that you've been quite the disappointment thus far."

Harry looked around, desperation running through him. Where was Ginny? Where were Ron and Hermione? He turned to leave, heading toward the door, but Snape stepped out of some shadows to block his way. Harry felt hatred fill him as Snape stared at him coldly.

"Well, Potter. Leaving so soon? Are you afraid that you'll not live up to your press clippings?" said Snape snidely.

"Get out of my way," Harry said threateningly.

"You are required to stay until we tell you that it's time to fulfill your... function," Snape said smoothly.

"And what if I don't want to?" Harry said. He could feel his wand in his hand.

Snape emitted a cold laugh. "Whatever made you think this is about what you want, Potter?"

"Accio Firebolt!" Harry shouted, calling for his broom. It flew through the door, coming to a stop near him. He mounted the broom and flew up into the air, higher and higher, finally seeing a tiny opening at the top of the auditorium. He flew straight out into the night air.

Great rains from a storm poured down on him, soaking him to the core as he flew away from the castle. Suddenly a gust of wind caught him, blowing him at incredible speed across the land and finally over the ocean. Harry gripped the broom tightly, but it was finally ripped away from him. He could see it flying away from him, end over end, as he fell toward the water.

He finally hit the ocean with a hard splash, and Harry swam to the surface. Fear filled him as he floated on the ocean, tossed about like a cork. He desperately tried to swim, but the power of the current was too much for him as he frantically called out for help. Despair filled him, as he could see no land or boats, just an endless view of deep, cold, black sea water. None of his limbs seemed to be attached quite properly, nothing was working right...

Harry washed up onto a dirt road, bright sunshine overhead. Oddly, he seemed to be dry now, and there was no sign of the ocean. He rose from the ground, peering down the tree-lined road, and began walking. He stopped, seeing motion in the trees. He heard a strange giggling and rustling, then quiet. He continued walking, feeling a little fearful, wondering what the strange creatures were.

More rustling and giggling followed him as he hiked down the road. Finally he came to a rather large, white house. Seeing motion in the third-story window, Harry peered up, but whatever it was had disappeared.

He cautiously moved up to the door, which was slightly ajar. The door opened smoothly before him as he looked through the threshold. A bright, cheerful interior greeted him as he entered the house. Pictures of a family lined the walls, and he could see a family clock similar to the Weasley's in the corner.

"Hello?" Harry called out. He waited, but there was no answer.

Harry slowly moved through the house; everything was very clean and bright. He stopped, hearing the strange giggling in the back of the house, in the rooms ahead of him. Finally he came to a white paneled door with an old-fashioned crystal door handle. Whatever was making the sound was behind the door.

Fear filled him as he debated with himself whether to open the door or not. He placed his hand lightly against the wood; it felt strangely warm and vibrant. Harry wanted something behind that door, but he was afraid to take it.

Finally he knew he had to risk it. He had to open the door.

He slowly turned the handle. The door opened, revealing a wide wooden porch that opened up to a large, grassy outdoor garden area. He saw beautiful flower beds lining a large lawn, and then he heard the giggling again...

Ginny was sitting in a wicker chair on the porch. She got up, giving him a beautiful smile. She was wearing a white summer dress, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders. Her bright brown eyes seemed to shine at him with laughter, arresting any lingering fears.

Moving up to him, she put her arms around him gently, embracing him lovingly. Harry put his arms around her as well, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace and happiness. He belonged here. He was home.

They turned to the garden, Ginny leaning her head on his shoulder. He could finally see what was making the giggling sounds... many children were playing on the lawn. Several children were playing Quidditch, tossing a ball back and forth. Two were sitting at a garden table, playing chess, while another boy was chasing a girl around the garden, laughing. Harry noticed that many of the children had black hair, and many of them had red hair, and some had brown eyes, and some had green eyes...

* * *

Harry awoke, lying in his hospital bed. He just lay for several minutes in the dim light of the room, thinking about the dream. Feelings and images from the final part filled his head, he could almost feel Ginny still in his arms. Harry glanced over at Ginny, who was asleep on her folding bed.

He reached over, touching her cheek. She opened her eyes, smiling at him, but then looked worried, apparently noticing something about his expression.

"Harry, are you all right?" she asked, sitting up on her bed. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Harry hesitated before answering. "Sort of..."

Ginny moved over and sat next to him on the bed. "It's all right," she said gently. "It's over now. You don't have to tell me what it was."

Part of him wanted to keep the dream to himself, but another part surged powerfully. "I... want to tell you this dream."

Ginny looked a little surprised, but smiled reassuringly at him. "All right."

"It... it started as a nightmare. That part doesn't matter. But then it changed..." Harry paused again. "I was walking down a road and came to a nice house. It was somewhat like the Burrow, but maybe a bit more... reliable," Harry said with a small smile. He noticed that Ginny seemed a little startled at that for some reason.

"Anyway, I went into the house. I was afraid at first, but I heard a lot of giggling and playing. I went to the back of the house, into the back yard... and then... I saw you. And... children playing," Harry stopped, feeling very embarrassed. "I think the war was over."

He could see tears welling up in Ginny's eyes, making him grow more emotional. He swallowed and forced himself to continue, wanting to get it all out.

"And... I was happy," Harry continued. "Sometimes... sometimes I don't think it's possible to be happy like that. But in the dream..."

Ginny watched him quietly, just letting him talk. Harry wanted to ask her a question. He knew how it would sound, but he didn't care. He had to know.

"I think... I think they were our children. Ginny... do you think it's possible... someday... to be happy... like that?" Harry asked, looking her in the eye.

Ginny smiled, and then reached over and took Harry's hand between hers, holding it warmly. "Yes, Harry. I think it's very possible."