Harry Potter and the Silent Siege

Chapter 22

Loose Ends

Dumbledore sighed. For a sudden horrible moment, Harry had the feeling he was not going to reply at all or worse that he was going to attempt some feeble form of lie. Instead, Dumbledore sank wearily into his chair and said:

"No, Harry, I did not."

Harry felt his body stiffen.

"He killed my parents."

"I'm aware of that, Harry," said Dumbledore softly.

"And you didn't kill him," Harry finished apparently not having heard Dumbledore's response.

Dumbledore sighed again.

"Harry, listen to me carefully," he said steadily, "because what I'm about to say is very important and it is crucial that you understand it - eventually, if not today. I did not kill Voldemort because if I had I would have taken his place."

Harry found himself unable to respond in spite of his resolve to see this conversation through.

"B - but, sir," he finally said. "You could never - you would never - "

"Precisely, Harry, and I did not. But if I had, I would have."

Harry frowned and shook his head.

"I - I don't understand."

Dumbledore placed the tops of his finger tips together.

"I did not kill Voldemort because it was not my place to do so. If I had it would be because I desired power and then I would, indeed, be like him. And I would not have stopped at his death. But I also knew that you were not yet ready to face him and that was why I was forced to act as I did."

"Wh - what did you do to Voldemort, sir?" Harry asked, almost fearful of the answer. "I thought he was dead, but that spell or curse or whatever - "

Dumbledore nodded.

"I did not kill him, Harry, but I tried to make things a little easier for you when the time came for you to face him again. The dark magic that rendered everyone in the original room temporarily unconscious but had an especially severe effect on both yourself and Ginny, having as you have, experienced a great many more terrors than anyone in the room combined - save perhaps for myself - was the effect of Voldemort's soul leaving his body as my curse commanded it to do. I daresay that with all of the darkness in Voldemort's soul, you would not have felt worse if a dozen Dementors had crowded in on you. But there was little I could have done to avoid it and I knew that the effect would pass in time."

"So he's gone, now, just like he was when - "

Harry paused for a moment, his breath catching in his throat.

" - when I first faced him," he added quietly, "and when he left Professor Quirrell."

Dumbledore held up a finger.

"Not exactly the same way, Harry. Similar, yes, but not the same. You see, there was another part to the curse I put on Voldemort. It was as far as I dared to go. When Voldemort next returns, he will be trapped inside an ordinary body. He will have none of the same powers he has cultivated over the years to keep himself alive. When that time comes, he will be mortal, and can be killed for good, at least until he finds his way out of the condition, which I wouldn't completely put past him."

Dumbledore studied Harry carefully across his desk.

"The important thing, Harry, is that it will not be very easy for him to return soon. He was very fortunate to come across Professor Quirrell and even more lucky to have been discovered by Wormtail. And I doubt there are many left who would desire any involvement with him. And when he does finally return again, Harry, you will be old enough and strong enough to face him."

Harry frowned.

"What did Voldemort mean when he said that he would not die until you had 'fallen to yourself?'"

"Ah," said Dumbledore, smiling a slightly tired looking smile. "He was referring to an old prophecy, one that was made when he was still Tom Riddle and a student at Hogwarts, one that was also told to me by a very bright young centaur. It was what led me to suspect that it was ready Riddle who had opened the Chamber of Secrets and not Hagrid as most believed. Riddle did not know of it at the time but later, as Voldemort, he discovered its content. The centaur spoke of Riddle as a powerful wizard who would one day use fear to unite many to his side. He also said that Voldemort's final death could only come at the cost of my own downfall."

"Downfall?" repeated Harry nervously. "Y - you mean that Voldemort cannot die unless you die with him?"

Dumbledore smiled benignly.

"It might mean that, Harry, but then again it might mean something altogether different. I cannot say. Voldemort tried to use it against me for many years but even at the time of his first quest for power I was much too old for those sorts of tricks. I doubt that Voldemort ever quite realized that prophecies are less predictions of future events that they are excellent judges of character. And this particular centaur was exceptionally skilled in that regard."

Harry shook his head as many had done before him, trying to make sense of all that Dumbledore had said. He had walked into the headmaster's office full of anger and resolve but after hearing all this, he was no longer sure what to think. He had almost made up his mind to leave the office when Dumbledore leaned across his desk and said:

"I believe you had another question for me, Harry. By all means, ask away."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, struggling to remember whether he had told the headmaster he had more than one thing on his mind when he had walked in the office. But at this point, it seemed he had little choice but to speak out aloud what he now had strangely much less resolve to say.

"Y - you - " Harry started and then paused.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Did you really have to use Ginny like that?" Harry asked, almost in a whisper. "You knew that Voldemort was trying to get into her mind; you knew he was giving her nightmares; you knew how much she was suffering. But you let it all go on so that you could trap Voldemort."

Dumbledore's smile faded and he leaned back slightly but continued to look Harry in the eye. He seemed to start to speak twice but then stopped both times. Finally, on the third occasion he opened his mouth and said, in what seemed to Harry a surprisingly old and gravelly voice:

"Harry, I hope to beg your indulgence once again to listen very closely to what I have to say: there are few things in this school that are not known to me. I knew that you had found out about the philosopher's stone your first year as I knew that someone was trying to steal it. As I did not know who, I used you to discover things that I could not. The headmaster of the school has quite a bit of power and knowledge but there are always those things which a first-year student will inevitably learn that he does not. I allowed you and your friends to go many places you never should have been allowed to go. In many ways, I used you to find who was trying to steal the stone and it almost cost you your life. If you are angry with me for that, then I deserve it. But I also knew that in risking your life, I was giving you some small freedom from many of the demons that were haunting your soul. Voldemort had killed your parents and you needed to confront him."

Harry found some of his anger returning.

"What has this got to do with Ginny?" he asked.

"Everything, Harry. Everything. I hope very much that you will listen closely to what I have to say for if you are going to pursue a romantic friendship with Ginny, it is very important for you to know."

A part of Harry that was not yet angry with Dumbledore appreciated that the headmaster wasn't shying away or looking down on his romantic affairs, as he imagined some of the other teachers might have. And perhaps because of that, he paid Dumbledore the courtesy of doing as he asked and listening.

"You are not the only one in this school with a score to settle with Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore went on. "I have watched Ginny Weasley for some time. Voldemort made her suffer many horrors, some of which we know, but others that I fear she has as yet told no one about. With the most loving intentions in the world, her family and friends smothered her, tried to over-protect her, and consequently closed both her and themselves away from understanding what she really needed most of all: to face Voldemort on her own terms just like you did first of all those few years ago when you confronted Professor Quirrell. And now she has been able to do that."

"But you didn't give her a choice!" protested Harry.

"And I could not have!" replied Dumbledore, his own voice raised ever so slightly. "Voldemort was reading her mind. If she knew what I did, then all of us would have been finished. And then where would we be?"

"Then at least you could have told me?"

"No, Harry. I did not know how far your friendship with Ginny went. If I had told you and asked you to keep it from her, it would have destroyed the fragile trust she most needed to forge with you and believe me, Harry, that would have been a far, far worse thing than for her to have died at Voldemort's hands. I hope that Ginny will teach you, Harry, what she understands and Voldemort does not: that death is a far less fearful thing than the loss of one's soul."

Harry looked at Dumbledore quizzically.

"You needn't worry, Harry," he said, a slight twinkle returning to his eyes. "It is not my habit to use magic to pry into the private lives of my students. I have, however, learned, as one does over the years, to observe others closely. I happened to be watching as you could not have the expression on Ginny's face when you embraced at the beginning of the year in the Gryffindor common room and I knew it could mean only one thing. I was very fortunate to be able to see that just as I left to visit Sirius and begin our plans to stop Voldemort. It helped to remind me what, in fact, I was supposed to be fighting for. Otherwise, I fear that in the complex strands of my plans, I might have forgotten, and that would have been very regretful indeed."

It seemed to take Harry a moment to realize that Dumbledore had stopped talking. He was no longer sure whether he was supposed to feel angry or not but it seemed that his head had started to ache. Just as Harry had reached a point of total indecision about what he was supposed to say next, Dumbledore added very quietly:

"If you don't have any more questions, Harry, I'm afraid Minister Fudge will be on his way here any minute."

"Oh, oh, right," said Harry a little clumsily. He turned to leave.

"One more thing, Harry," said Dumbledore as he neared the door. "As much as you all may have disliked my last and most desperate arrangements to trick Voldemort, I'm afraid I cannot take full credit. While the first plan to send Sirius into the original room was my own, the alternate plan was devised by Professor Nevins. I was quick to inform the Ministry of this while you were still unconscious and they have already planned to award him the Order of Merlin, First Class. Unfortunately, he is doing his best to appeal the decision. I thought perhaps you might talk to him. I think he is in his office now."

***

"Er, I - I - I think I'll go upstairs, too," stammered Amanda. "I have some - some packing to do."

Neither Ginny nor Ron seemed to hear her leave.

Ron touched his cheek gingerly, less out of pain than surprise.

"Wh - why did you do that?" he asked. "Did something happen to your head down there?"

In response a fresh spring of tears ran down Ginny's cheeks.

"Ginny, I - "

"Because I love you, Ron. You're my brother. And I love Harry, too. You saved his life down there in that room. He must have described it to me five times. So he'll never hold anything against you. He'll just stew on it in his heart and your friendship will never be the same and I don't want that."

Ron had the strange feeling he was speaking to his sister in a second language.

"Never hold - why would he - stew on what - "

Ron's eyes narrowed suddenly.

"You're still on about what I said about him and you, aren't you? After all that's happened to us? Well, you don't have to worry." Ron looked down at his shoes. "I - I've gotten used to the idea now. Bit of a shock at first, though. I mean, well, him and you, I - I never really thought - "

"Please tell me what you did think, Ron."

Ron looked up at Ginny and managed a half-smile.

"Well, well, I mean I know you always went mooning after him but I didn't think that he - I mean, well, you're really like his little sister, too, aren't you?"

"No."

Ron looked back down at his shoes.

"You never took me seriously, did you?"

Ron looked up quite suddenly, his face flushed in anger.

"Of course I took you seriously!" he snapped. "I was looking out for you. You're young. I - I didn't want you to get hurt."

"And you think Harry would hurt me?"

"W - well, no, that is, he wouldn't mean to. But with You-Know, with Voldemort after him, I mean look at what almost happened."

"But Voldemort is gone now, Ron, and the rest of us are still here. Do you plan to protect me for the rest of my life or can you suffer to trust your sister to your best friend?"

"I - I - look, Ginny, do you want me to apologize? Is that it? I'm sorry."

Ginny shook her head.

"I don't want you to apologize to me, Ron. I want you to apologize to Harry. It's him you hurt - and yourself if you can realize it. Those things you said, about me being his fangirl? He doesn't want anyone to be his fangirl. He's never wanted anything but to live a normal life. And he thought that you knew that."

"I - I - of course, I know that. I - OK, OK, Gin, I'll apologize to him."

"Then you and I have no quarrel."

***

Harry marched restlessly through the corridors. He very much wanted to get back to Ginny now even as he dreaded having to tell her that Voldemort was not really dead. But he also knew that he had to talk to Nevins before he left and that if he didn't, he would keep churning the whole thing around in his mind. He had been very angry about the risks Dumbledore had taken when he had thought the plan had been his but strangely, now that it had turned out to be Nevins' idea, he found himself feeling much more sympathetic.

Harry rounded the corner to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office and knocked on the door, as he had so many times before that year.

"Come in," called Nevins' voice as it had for each of their private sessions.

Harry opened the door and entered the office. He noticed immediately that it was almost completely bare once more, as persistent an annual ritual as Halloween and the end of term feast. Nevins himself was hastily shoving a large number of books into a trunk and staring at it thoughtfully as if considering whether to use magic to enlarge the insides.

"Harry," said Nevins, a little brusquely. "You're just in time. I'll soon be off."

Harry found himself asking the obvious.

"You're leaving?"

Nevins looked up as if noticing him there properly for the first time.

"What? Oh, yes. I'm afraid so."

"But I'd hoped - couldn't you stay?"

Nevins gave Harry what seemed like a very forced smile.

"Oh, no, Harry. I'm looking forward to getting back to retirement now. I only agreed to take the post to help Professor Dumbledore against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and now that he's gone - "

"His name is Voldemort! Why can't you say it? You defeated him!"

Harry and Nevins stopped short and stared at each other for a moment, expressions of identical shock written on their faces. Harry stared at his hands as if uncertain he was still in his own body.

"Sir," Harry added quietly.

Nevins stared at Harry for a moment longer, then sighed and said:

"On the contrary, Harry. It was you who defeated him. You and Ginny - and Dumbledore, of course. I was the one who put your lives in danger as your godfather was in here reminding me only this morning."

Harry took a step backward.

"I - I'm sorry about Sirius. I didn't realize. He - "

"No need to apologize, Harry," said Nevins, walking back to his trunk and running his wand over the lining which seemed to bulge inward as he did so. "Sirius has done a much better job of protecting you than I have. Of course, he still blames me for your father's death, you realize, and he's right about that, too."

"B - but, sir," protested Harry. "If it weren't for you, we might all have been killed and Voldemort might have won. Your plan was brilliant - desperate, but brilliant."

"You think so, Harry?" said Nevins, still studying the inside of his trunk. "I think not. It's very easy to sit back and think up plans when it's other people that have to put their lives on the line or end up in hospital wings for days on end."

"You've been offered the Order of Merlin, First Class. Why won't you accept it?"

Nevins straightened up and looked down at the trunk with satisfaction. He placed an enormous pile of books that remained on the desk inside it and closed the lid. He took his wand out and levitated the trunk a few inches off the floor. It was only after he had done these things that he turned back to look at Harry.

"Professor Dumbledore sent you down here, didn't he?"

"I don't always do Dumbledore's bidding."

"In that case, I'll tell you, then: I don't deserve it, Harry," Nevins said flatly, the smile not leaving his face. "Professor Dumbledore deserves it. Your parents deserved it. You deserve it, even. But not me. You needn't worry, though, I'm sure the Ministry will find a way to pin it to my chest in any case."

Harry shook his head.

"You're wrong, sir."

Nevins sighed.

"I pray you'll never discover that I was right, Harry. It seems I'm ready to leave, then. It's been a pleasure, Harry. I've no doubt we'll get to see each other again some time."

Nevins held out his hand.

Harry looked at it for a moment before grasping it firmly. He looked up almost defiantly into Nevins' eyes.

"The pleasure was mine, sir. I hope you'll reconsider."

Nevins looked almost about to reply but then released Harry's hand and, moving his trunk toward the door, he turned the handle and stepped out. He did not look back.

Harry slumped down on a chair in the once again vacant office of the Defense Against the Dark Arts master.

***

Ginny sat on her bed and sighed. She was still turning her discussion with Ron over and over in her mind wondering if there was some way she could have said things differently. She looked anxiously at her watch, wondering when either Harry would return or her parents and brothers would come upstairs to help fetch Ron and Hermione's things. She had said a few words with Amanda but her roommate still seemed to be staying clear of her. She seemed to sense that Ginny wanted to be alone but the truth was that Ginny found she no longer wanted that as much as before.

Ginny finally stood up and made her way to the door. She was tired of waiting. She was going to find someone and do something other than pack her own things. She muttered something to Amanda about going out and made her way into the corridor.

Ginny had no sooner taken the first step down to the common room when a voice behind her said:

"Ginny."

Ginny gasped and swung around. She knew exactly whom that voice belonged to.

"Hermione!"

Not pausing to think about the still sensitive injuries to most of Hermione's body, Ginny ran up and threw her arms around her friend.

But Ginny's smile faded when she released from the hug and saw the anxiety beneath Hermione's own smile.

"Ron told you about our talk, didn't he? I - I'm sorry, Hermione, I - "

Hermione shook her head. "You told him what he had to hear. You did the right thing, Ginny. It will be O.K."

Ginny smiled again but Hermione still looked anxious.

"What is it?"

Hermione shook her head. Her lower lip started to tremble and tears welled in her eyes.

"I shouldn't have hit him. I'm really sorry, I - "

But Hermione shook her head more vigorously.

"It's not about that," she said. "I - I - Ginny, I would have died for Harry. I wanted to die for him. But it's not like - it's not - do you understand?"

Ginny nodded.

"I'll take good care of him for you, I promise."

Hermione nodded.

And then the two friends held each other for a very long time.

***

When Harry returned to the common room, he found it strangely empty. He called out Ginny's name for a while up the stairs to the girls' dormitories but there was no response. Feeling restless at having to postpone the terrible news he was going to have to give her, Harry reluctantly made his way up to his own empty room and started to pack his things, not really feeling like doing so, but strangely having little else to do. He started to empty the contents of one drawer, suddenly remembering that he wouldn't be dragging his trunk to Privet Drive anymore and feeling the mix of ambivalent emotions that ran through him whenever he had this thought. At first, he paid little attention to what it was he was putting inside the trunk but then his hands caught hold of the book of photographs of his parents that Hagrid had given him as a present at the end of his first year. Without really thinking why, he started to turn the pages. There were his parents, of course, Sirius, smiling at their wedding - and Wormtail. And then -

Harry frowned as he saw something in the picture he had never noticed before.

He was still looking at the book some minutes later when there was a knock on the door and a voice said:

"Busy packing then, are we?"

He looked up to see Ginny. They both smiled at each other for a moment and Harry suddenly realized what Ron had meant when he told him that being in love with Hermione was like waking up every morning and knowing it was Christmas. All the knots that had been tied together in Harry's stomach about having to tell Ginny the truth about Voldemort seemed to untie at seeing her again and he wondered for what seemed like the thousandth time how it was she had never made him feel that way before. It just seemed so natural now.

Harry watched Ginny framed in the doorway for long enough to know that he was seeing all the wonder in his eyes reflected back in hers. Then she rushed toward him and they embraced as if they had been apart for months and not hours. When they finally settled on a sideways snuggle, Ginny pointed her finger at the book and said:

"This is the book Hagrid gave you, isn't it? Ron told me about it."

"Look," said Harry, clutching onto her shoulder. "There. I never noticed it before."

He pointed to a corner of a picture of his parents' old home at Godric Hollow, beyond the young James and Lily holding a smiling, waving baby Harry to a patch of wildflowers growing haphazardly just outside their door.

"It's lavender," said Harry. "I always wondered why it was my favorite flower. I suppose I must have remembered somehow."

Harry's eyes started to mist over and Ginny held on a little more tightly.

"You started to wear it because of me, didn't you?" Harry said suddenly, looking at Ginny. "After I told you that night in the common room."

Ginny shook her head as Harry shot her an expression of mock suspicion.

"Honestly," Ginny said, her eyes full of innocence. "I've always liked lavender since I was a little girl. It grows in big clumps all around the garden at the Burrow. Ron and I used to play in it when we were little. I charmed all of my clothes and my bed sheets to give off the smell years ago." Ginny frowned slightly. "It's always calmed me, especially after I've had a nightmare."

Harry gave her shoulder a squeeze.

"Then why didn't I notice it before?"

"Because - because, Harry, the charm only works when someone presses against me. And you were always too afraid to hold me back very tightly."

Harry ran a thoughtful hand through Ginny's hair.

"What is it?"

"I - I was talking to Dumbledore just before I came up here and, well - "

Harry suddenly looked down at the book of photographs again.

Ginny lifted up his chin with her finger.

"He's not dead, is he?"

Harry gasped.

"How did you - "

"I know," said Ginny softly, her own head falling slightly. "I knew it as soon as I felt that horrible, icy feeling go right up my back in that room. I knew it could only be him, his soul still around, somewhere in that room."

Harry told Ginny the rest of what Dumbledore had told him.

"It's like he was before," finished Harry quickly, trying to sound more hopeful than he felt. "And this time it could be years before he comes back again. And we'll be much better prepared for him."

Ginny looked up into Harry's anxious eyes and touched her nose to his.

"The most important thing is we won't be alone now, Harry. Neither of us has to face him alone."

Harry started to reply but he soon gave it up as he realized that it was not words that either of them needed at that moment. He folded his arms around Ginny at the same time as hers grabbed hold of him. It suddenly seemed as if their bodies had always meant to rest into each other's this way. Harry closed his eyes and let his hands wander through the silky strands of Ginny's hair rolling her curls through his finger tips. He was not sure how long he did this when a throat cleared somewhere in the background.

Both Ginny and Harry moved out of their embrace and looked up to the doorway.

"Er, I'm sorry," said Ron. "I - I - I think Hermione's nearly finished her trunk and I haven't started mine yet but - but don't mind me," he added rather pitifully. "You two go on - I mean, that is, if you - "

He broke off as Harry stood up and walked over to him, his eyes full of tears. Ron watched him for a moment unblinking and then the two friends shared another uncharacteristic embrace.

"I think I'll go and start on my own things," said Ginny quietly and moved her lithe body swiftly out of the room.

Ron let go and Harry saw that his eyes, too, were filled with tears. It was only the second time he had ever seen Ron cry, the first being when he had tried to ask Hermione to the Guy Fawkes ball, in what now seemed like a previous lifetime.

"Are you all right?" asked Harry.

Ron nodded. "You?"

"All right."

There was a pause.

"Listen, Ron."

"Listen, Harry."

The two friends smiled as the words came out of their mouths at the same time.

There was another pause and then Harry started to speak again.

"Look, Ron, before we go any further. I owe you a big apology."

Ron looked at Harry astounded.

"Y - you owe me an apology? Harry, what for?"

"I turned my back on you and Hermione. I shouldn't have. You were right. And it was you who saved our lives down in that room first of all. If I had gone in by myself, I would be dead by now."

"You saved my life, too, Harry."

Harry shook his head.

"It wouldn't have needed saving if it wasn't for my own stupidity."

Ron couldn't stand it any longer.

"Harry," he cried out, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. "Mate, look, I'm sorry. I owe you an apology."

Harry was already shaking his head.

"No, look, Ron, just forget - "

But Ron was shaking his own head.

"No, I can't forget it. I - I was awful to you about Ginny. I don't know - "

"Ron, I said just forget - "

"Harry, I didn't mean what I said about her being your fangirl, honestly. I know you would never - "

"SHUT IT!"

Harry fell down on to the bed his hands over his ears. Ron stopped talking and looked up at him.

And then something seemed to snap inside Harry. He put his hands over his head and tried unsuccessfully to stop his own tears from falling down his face. When he looked up at Ron again, it was through very hurt-looking bloodshot eyes.

"Is that what you really thought about me all this time?" he hissed, pain seeming to ooze out of his mouth like pus from a wound. "The great Harry Potter."

"No, no, Harry, it wasn't, I didn't - "

Ron shook his head, clearly beside himself, tears once again threatening to fall.

But Harry wasn't finished.

"I thought we'd gotten over this years ago. But you've always been jealous, haven't you, all this time?"

Ron shook his head so hard it seemed he was trying to make it snap off.

"It must have seemed like I was stealing your sister away from you. It was just too much, wasn't it?"

Ron had heard enough. He balled his fists on the top of his dresser and walked over to Harry.

"No, Harry," he said. "It wasn't like that. I - I was scared, all right. I was terrified for her and for you. I knew Voldemort was after both of you. And I - I was mad because you hadn't told me. I thought you'd been keeping it a secret. I didn't understand but now I do," he quickly added. "I'm sorry, Harry. I - I - it won't ever happen again, I promise."

Harry stood up, too, and looked at his best friend. He wanted to tell Ron how much he wanted to forget about everything he'd said that day like it was a bad dream that could just be swept away with waking thoughts. But he also knew that he wasn't going to be able to make himself forget that easily.

"Look, mate," he said, putting his hand on Ron's shoulder. "We're OK for now, all right?"

Ron nodded.

"But I need you to think very carefully and after you've gotten over all the guilt, I want you to tell me if you really want to be my friend or whether you'll always be jealous of famous Harry Potter."

"I've already thought. I - "

But Harry shook his head.

"Not now. Later."

***

Constable Daniel Peters looked thoughtfully into his coffee cup as he idly strode the walkway between platforms nine and ten at King's Cross Station. His wife had kept him up late into the night, on about something or other he'd ought to have done before coming home the evening before, the details of which had now once again slipped the constable's somewhat fatigued mind. Peters considered for a moment how very much his wife often reminded him both in tone of voice and the habit of barking late in the night to the Fisher's dog and, smiling to himself at the similarity, looked up and blinked.

There was that family of red heads again. Yet it seemed they hadn't been there a moment before. Peters looked around to see if a train had just pulled up on either of the two platforms but curiously there didn't seem to be any. Peters was sure it was the same lot he'd seen the previous summer, only there seemed to be more of them this time. There was the man and the woman again, dressed slightly normally this time, although the man still wore non-matching canary yellow and lime green socks and ankle-revealing trousers. There was a tall young man who wore his fiery hair in a ponytail, possibly the eldest son, the twins again, the tall lanky boy, and his little sister. And then there was another boy, his jet black hair a straggly mess and a very odd scar on his forehead standing with his arm around the younger girl's waist. Peters looked at them curiously, wondering about whatever it was that might have happened wherever it was they had gone, when he felt a hand clasp him firmly on the shoulder.

The constable wheeled around, his hand reaching instinctively for his club, and found himself face to face with the wiry hair, toothless smile, and rancid breath of the same vagrant he had cited for liquor possession last summer.

"Sorry, there, guv'nor. Didn't mean to startle yeh or nothin'."

"I'd advise you to unhand me, sir. I am an officer of the Metropolitan Police."

"Oh, right yeh are there, guv'nor." The vagrant took his hand away from Peters' shoulder. "Got a bit cheeky, didn't I?"

Peters looked the vagrant up and down properly. He had to admit he'd seemed to have made some sort of effort to clean up his appearance now. At least, he'd shaved even if his clothes were mismatched and poorly fitting, curiously not unlike those of the red headed man, and his breath no longer seemed to smell of alcohol. Peters allowed himself an inward smile for the first time that day. Perhaps the gentle taste of the law had taught this indolent tramp a thing or two.

Peters frowned again as he noticed for the first time that the vagrant was wheeling some kind of trunk along behind him. He peered at it curiously. He could have sworn he saw stenciled on the side of the trunk the words:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

SUMMER ADULT EDUCATION PROGRAMME

The vagrant seemed to have noticed Peters peering at the words.

"What d'yeh think, guv'nor, eh, eh?"

"Well, sir, I - "

"Don't mean to be rude or nothin', guv'nor, but I owe this gent over 'ere a bit of an apology." The vagrant indicated the red headed man. "Turns out 'e weren't one o' 'em aliens, after all. He's a wizard and so am I!"

Peters sighed. He watched as the vagrant wheeled his trunk over to the family of red heads. He should have known that this lot would end up together somehow. He decided he had better watch at a discreet distance. There was no telling what they were really up to.

"Pardon me, guv'nor." The vagrant took hold of the hand of the red headed man. "Name's Barnaby. Thomas Barnaby. Seems I owe yeh a bit of an apology there, sir. I was a bit rude on your last trip through here, sir."

"Arthur Weasley," said the red headed man, shaking the vagrant's hand. "And not to worry, Mr. Barnaby. The mistake's easily made."

A tall thin man with long black hair and a bony, somewhat sinister looking face suddenly appeared from behind the eldest son. He stepped forward and greeted the vagrant with what seemed like a warm smile, although Peters could not shake the impression that it was not an expression that he was used to wearing.

The vagrant's eyes lit up as he stepped forward to take the thin man's hand.

"Mr. Barnaby," said the thin man in a surprisingly well-educated voice. "A pleasure to see you again, sir."

"Pleasure is mine, guv'nor," replied the vagrant. "I see yeh managed to escape from them coppers."

The thin man nodded.

So, now we are getting down to the truth of the matter, thought Peters to himself. He carefully edged nearer and closed his hand over his club, tensing his body to act as the thin man reached into his pocket and drew out what seemed to be a long wooden stick.

The thin man held out the stick to the vagrant.

"I believe this is yours, sir."

The vagrant waved his hand dismissively and produced an identical stick from his pocket.

"Got me self another one," he said proudly. "I went back and saw Mr. Olive Blender after I got me letter."

He reached into a frayed pocket in his jacket and produced a crumpled looking letter with an official looking seal on the back. Peters started to wonder whether he had stumbled across some form of secret society or mafia. Perhaps that scar on the boy's head was really a tattoo or initiation mark and the others all had it somewhere, too.

"Couldn't believe it but it's true, 'int it, guv'nor? Eh? They say I'm a late bloomer."

The vagrant's smile was returned by the thin man and each member of the red-headed family, the boy with the straggly hair in particular.

"Indeed it must be, sir," said the red headed man.

The vagrant leaned over to him conspiratorially.

"I feel a bit embarrassed asking, guv'nor, only I think there's been a bit of a foul up with me ticket. It says 'ere me train leaves from Platform nine-and-three-quarters."

"Ah, yes."

The red headed man's eyes darted around and took in Peters standing near them for the very first time. He leaned forward and whispered into the vagrant's ear.

Peters felt his heart beat start to increase. Platform nine-and-three-quarters. It must be some kind of code that they have to initiate the vagrant into. He took a cautious step forward already thinking of the possibilities for promotion if he could catch this lot red-handed, as it were. Perhaps he could get away from this wretched station after all and find a place behind a nice comfortable desk in a cushy office.

Peters was drawn back to attention as the vagrant moved away from the red-headed man in alarm. He looked back and forth from the motley group to what seemed like a plain brick wall that marked the dividing barrier between platforms nine and ten.

"Best to do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous," said the boy with the scar, smiling encouragingly.

"Good luck!" said the girl.

The vagrant's horrified expression slowly changed to a smile. Nodding once more to the red headed clan, he grasped the handle of his trolley tightly and before Peters' shocked eyes ran at full tilt straight toward the barrier.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he bellowed.

The vagrant and his trolley disappeared through the wall. Peters' coffee cup fell to the ground and its contents showered his trousers.

"Oh, dear."

The red headed man took out his own wooden stick and walked slowly over to Peters and a growing crowd of onlookers all of whom were staring dumbfounded at the vagrant's ostentatious departure.

"I'm terribly sorry about this," said the red headed man, addressing the crowd. He flicked his wand and Peters' empty coffee cup flew into his hand. "Hopefully they'll teach him some etiquette at school this summer."

Peters whimpered.

The next moment, however, he was staring at his empty coffee cup wondering how he had managed to drink up the contents so quickly. He looked around the station noticing an unusual number of lost-looking passengers, certain there was something important he had forgotten. After being unable to remember what it was, Peters sighed and looked at his watch. Time seemed to have passed much faster than usual. Now if he could only remember what he was supposed to get for his wife.

***

Within a day or so of Ron and Hermione's return to Hogwarts, all of the remaining occupants of Gryffindor Tower had packed their trunks and made their goodbyes to their teachers and friends. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, along with Fred, George, and Bill, had accompanied them back from the school. Mr. Weasley had thought to arrange a portkey for them to return but Dumbledore insisted that they take the Hogwarts Express, saying that it still had to return to London to pick up passengers for the summer training program. And so the heroes of the Hogwarts siege along with their friends and admirers who had remained had the whole train to themselves. Even with the smaller number of passengers, the sweet cart attendant still did a very brisk trade.

There were many empty compartments on the train on this day but at least one was quite crowded. Ginny and Harry had become almost inseparable and nearly everywhere they went Ron and Hermione did, too. Sirius and Harry had been apart for so long that they were almost just as difficult to separate although it still felt odd to everyone to see Sirius sitting calmly on the train when he had spent all of the time they had known him as a fugitive.

It came as no surprise that Fred and George seemed to have learned the news about Harry and Ginny before they were reunited with their sister. They had taken a few early cracks at both of them but this had quickly died out when it seemed that everyone else no longer thought the relationship particularly remarkable. Once this had failed, they had amused themselves by trying to walk in between Harry and Ginny when they were holding hands but this, too, lost its interest after a time.

Hermione's parents had met her on the platform in London and she had left the others, promising to a much forlorn-looking Ron that she would come to the Burrow to visit later in the summer. Much as he had dreaded their reunions, Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and something almost like emptiness when he had not met the Dursleys on the platform this time.

Once they had reached King's Cross Station, Harry had insisted on going out shopping with Sirius in Muggle London though he didn't say why. Ginny had still been holding his hand and had wanted to follow along but he'd asked her to stay with her parents and look after Hedwig and Snitch, whom he said he didn't trust to keep quiet in front of the Muggles. Ginny had been disappointed but she agreed partly because she suspected that Harry also had other reasons for wanting to shop without her.

The days and nights once Ginny returned to the Burrow were some of the best she could ever remember. It seemed that Harry had returned to her all of the wonder of childhood and she wondered why she had not noticed it missing from her life for so long. On sunny days, she would go out with Harry and her brothers to play Quidditch, harass the garden gnomes, or take turns playing hide-and-seek under Harry's invisibility cloak. On rainy days, she and Harry would sit alone in her room, tucked warmly together under her large blanket, playing with Mr. Sunshine or sharing stories from their childhood. Most of Ginny's stories were happy or funny but Harry's were often quite sad and when he shared them with Ginny, they both grew quite serious. Harry himself seemed torn by anger at the Dursleys and guilt that he had caused their death. Ginny had the habit of running her fingers gently through his unkempt hair as he talked as if she could pull out the strands of his troubles.

Ginny slept restlessly all summer, though it was a happy sort of restlessness. She would part reluctantly from Harry to return to her room to sleep each night. She always seemed to sleep lightly and her dreams never strayed too far from her conscious mind where she could always control them. She would often awake many times in the night, feeling the soft breezes blow in through her curtains and kiss the strands of her hair. Whenever this happened, she would try to return to sleep once again, hoping that the next time she awoke she would find it was morning again. As soon as light reached her eyes, she would spring from her bed and run to her brother's room to find Harry. Often he would already be up waiting for her but perhaps even more delightful were the times he was still asleep and she could rest at the side of his bed letting her finger run curiously over his scar and watching the look on his face as he woke and saw her standing over him. Ron, of course, appreciated these early morning visits much less but he did not seem able to stomach a cross word for either Harry or Ginny and settled for throwing up a silencing charm around his bed. Although Harry and Ron seemed quite happy in each other's company, Ginny saw enough to know there was still something unresolved between them. But Ginny was not a nosy person by character and, after having first started them along the path to reconciliation, she was sensitive enough to allow them to resolve their remaining differences alone.

Their pleasant routines were interrupted by the third week of holidays and the day of Sirius' trial. Harry, who told Ginny and Ron that Muggle trials could sometimes last for months, was shocked to know that a wizard trial rarely lasted longer than half a day. Ginny had felt Harry's hand grip hers very tightly as gold chains wound their way around Sirius' arms, binding him to the chair at the center of the horribly dark dungeon in the basement of the Ministry of Magic where the trial was taking place. She had found her own body clammy with sweat as the charges had been read against Sirius and it was up to the defense to refute them. The most damaging evidence against Sirius was that Wormtail had never been found in the wreckage of the original room and there was no material evidence that he was still alive. Fortunately, however, Dumbledore had testified to meeting him while still disguised as a Death Eater and such was the general good will toward the headmaster at the moment that much of his testimony seemed to be accepted by the jury. Finally, a majority voted to acquit Sirius and Ginny heard Harry release a long breath as the shackles finally fell away from his godfather's hands for the last time.

It was with a wink and a still unfamiliar smile that Sirius had returned and announced that it would obviously be some time before his house could be fit for human habitation again and that he would have no choice but to continue to keep Harry with him together at the Burrow. The heavens had opened and the skies had poured down without stop in the days following Sirius' trial but the Burrow seemed as bright and warm as ever. And now amidst the busy sounds of the Weasley children running about the ramshackle house and the resounding noise of multiple games of Exploding Snap from those restless to once again have the chance to play outside came the sounds of Sirius' own laughter as unexpected as the barking of a family dog but also as welcome. But what pleased Ginny most about this time was the chance to see how much Harry smiled: at Sirius, at her, and the sheer joy of being so far away from the horrors that had consumed them for so long.

It was near the end of this rainy spell that Hermione arrived at the Burrow and Ron no longer seemed as interested in perfecting his charms and sleeping in late in the morning. Finally, when the house seemed as if it could no longer contain all of its impatient occupants, the clouds had cleared in the west to bathe the house and its garden in an enchanted red glow that showed off the green in Harry's eyes. The next bright sunny morning, Ginny had awoken with an energy that belied her restless sleep and she and Harry decided it was a perfect day for a walk and a picnic. They had asked Ron and Hermione to come along but it was quickly clear that they had their own plans. Walking out to the garden, they found Sirius with his wand poised over an outdoor cooking fire trying to set it alight.

"I'm preparing supper," he announced brightly. "And I'm afraid it's a touch on the awkward side," he added, conjuring a chef's hat and an apron that read: UP TO NO GOOD. "It will take the better part of the day to prepare, I'm afraid. Why don't you two run off alone?"

Ginny did not miss the wink that he flashed toward Harry. With slightly shy smiles, the two Gryffindors left the Burrow that morning to walk its surrounding hills, Ginny carrying their enchanted picnic basket and Harry a strange looking package that Ginny tried her best not to ask about. Sometimes they talked but after a summer of conversation they did not have many topics left untouched and so for most of that morning, they walked in silence. The Ginny who had sat shyly in front of Harry at the Three Broomsticks had been very anxious that she had had nothing to say to her love but now the silence did not seem to bother her. On that long ago day, Ginny had not known what Harry had felt about her and their silence had revealed the distance between them. But on this day, theirs was a silence that came from already knowing one another's feelings and no longer needing to always say the words.

Finally, they settled on a spot under a cluster of maple trees that was still worn from all of the summers that Ginny had rested on her solitary walks. She removed a large blanket that was several times the size of the basket it which it had been brought and laid it down on the still damp earth. As she and Harry took out the many ingredients for their picnic, Ginny was struck by how much life there was teeming around them: the songs of the birds that flew to examine their picnic seemed like an orchestra serenading them as they ate accompanied by the rustle of the leaves above their head and the soft buzz of a wasp moving from flower to flower beside them. Two butterflies danced back and forth in front of their eyes, playing and dancing together, the bright yellow of their wings brilliantly set against the bright blue sky above them. Ginny wondered whether they were watching her and Harry the same way that she saw them. It was as if the whole of nature knew like they did that now that the Dark Lord was gone, it was safe to come out and play again.

Ginny and Harry ate mostly in silence. When they had finished, however, as they watched the birds and the insects happily gather what still remained of their lunch, Ginny looked up at Harry and said:

"I've been wondering what's in that package all summer, you know."

Harry smiled mischievously.

"All right," he said. "But first I've got to give you something else."

Harry reached into the front pocket of his shirt and produced Snitch whom it seemed had been sleeping most of the morning and was only now awake. As he gently passed him into Ginny's hands, Snitch purred contentedly but still looked back across at his master with a slightly puzzled expression.

Ginny giggled and touched Snitch gently on the forehead.

"Well, let's face it," said Harry, slightly apologetically. "He gets on much better with you. I'm sure Hagrid won't mind."

Ginny looked back at Harry.

"I don't think so, Harry. Look at him. He misses you, already. Why don't we both take care of him?" she asked, as Harry seemed about to object. "After all, we won't be far apart now, will we?"

Harry smiled as a sudden flush came into his own cheeks. He shook his head.

"I hope not."

"Besides," added Ginny. "The first gift you give to your new girlfriend is something you don't want? A little crass, Harry."

Harry looked back at Ginny in surprise.

"What?" she asked.

"You've... changed."

Ginny smiled.

"I've become more cheeky?"

"No, n - not that exactly. You're just - not - not so shy now."

"Disappointed?"

"'Course not."

Harry frowned as Ginny's smile suddenly left her like the sun falling unexpectedly behind an errant cloud on an otherwise bright day.

"I was always like this before," she said, suddenly serious. "Before Voldemort - Tom - and, well - "

"Before you had a crush on me?" Harry asked.

Ginny shrugged and nodded.

Harry reached over and took hold of her hand.

"Don't keep it all inside, Gin," he said. "Whatever it is, you can always tell me, you know that."

Ginny nodded slowly and looked up at Harry as he lifted her chin with his finger.

"That day - in the original room," Harry added, a little nervously. "When we linked. Honestly, Ginny, I linked with Seamus before and then with Malfoy but it was nothing like - I mean with you - a - all those feelings, those emotions, like a storm just on the edge of your thoughts. How did you keep all of that in?"

"I don't know," Ginny replied. "I suppose I got used to it. I don't want to anymore, though. You do it, too, Harry," she quickly added. "Do you know that?"

"Yeah," said Harry reluctantly. "I know."

It was Ginny's turn to reach over and take hold of Harry's forearm.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me, too."

"It's not that I don't want to share my feelings," he replied, looking back up at her. "It's just that I'm afraid that if I do, all of the things I try to forget will just seem more real again."

"What things?"

"Well, you know, like the Dursleys."

"Harry, listen to me."

Ginny drew her arms around Harry's waist and touched her forehead to his.

"There's nothing you could have done," she said quietly, her voice suddenly sounding like a song coming from inside Harry's head. "It's over now. I love you, Harry. I don't want you to feel so much pain. Can you accept that?"

Harry looked back into Ginny's eyes for a moment, eyes he now knew were windows into a universe almost frightening in its depth. Then he slowly nodded.

"I can, I think," he said. "I'll try at least."

Ginny nodded, rocking Harry's own forehead as she moved hers up and down. Harry reached up and touched the side of her cheek.

"I feel bad for you, too, Ginny. I'm sorry Dumbledore made you suffer so much and that he didn't kill Voldemort for you. I'm sorry I didn't."

"Harry," said Ginny without flinching. "You weren't able to. One day you will be. And Dumbledore gave you that chance. He couldn't have done any differently."

"Yeah," said Harry reluctantly. "I suppose so. I'm not sorry you kicked him in the balls, though."

Ginny threw back her head and laughed. And after a few moments, Harry laughed, too.

"So out with it, Potter," Ginny said finally, putting her hands on her hips. "What's in the box?"

"What? Oh!"

Harry looked down at the package beside him. He handed it to Ginny.

"Happy Birthday."

"But my birthday's not till next week, Harry!"

"It might rain then, though. And Fred and George will come down."

Ginny smirked.

"You're learning, Harry."

She took out her wand and touched it to the top of the box.

The ribbon that had tied the package neatly together dissolved and the box sprang open like an egg to reveal a box made of a strange white substance that was very light but still quite firm. Ginny scratched her nail cautiously on the outside and a few small round white balls came away in her hand.

"It's called Styrofoam," explained Harry.

"What do I do with it?" asked Ginny curiously.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Nothing, actually. It's just covering what's inside."

With even greater curiosity, Ginny discovered that the Styrofoam came apart in two identical shells. Inside was a round metal cylinder.

"What do I do with this?" Ginny asked.

"You open it. Here."

Harry took the cylinder from her, pressed a button on the outside and a sort of little door sprang open.

"It's a box," Ginny decided. "But I don't think anything will fit inside. Unless you enchanted it, of course."

Harry shook his head and smiled.

"It's a portable CD player. Here."

He reached into the package and pulled a thin square object. It, too, opened up and revealed a round metal disc that shone in the sunlight.

"It's a sun catcher," said Ginny, taking it from him.

"It's a CD," said Harry.

He took the disc back from Ginny and put it into the player. He then took out a pair of ear muffs from the package attached to a long cord. He plugged one end of the cord into the player and put the ear muffs on top of Ginny's head.

"I don't want to wear these in the summer."

Harry held up a finger.

"Just listen," he said.

Harry smiled as Ginny's eyes widened. She suddenly took the ear muffs off.

"It's the Weird Sisters," she said. "I can hear them in my head. But how? It must be enchanted."

Harry shook his head.

"I can't explain it but it's not. The song is recorded somehow in the CD - the sun catcher if you like. I enchanted it to give it power but other than that...."

Ginny shook her head in amazement.

"But how did Muggles get wizard music?"

Harry smiled.

"Sirius said some wizards and witches live in Muggle areas so they can't do the song spells and potions but they can go to buy the CDs."

"But don't Muggles find it suspicious when there are wizard CDs in their shops?"

Harry looked at the cover of the CD which bore a bright pink sticker with the words:

TOWER RECORDS

DISCOUNT

£7.99

"I suppose not," he replied. "They have enormous shops and lots of people work there. They don't take much notice. If they find a CD that wasn't there before, they just assume that someone else put it there and don't think any more of it."

Ginny shook her head.

"I can never understand Muggles," she declared, looking down at the CD player. "They can make something so brilliant, really much better than all of our awkward song spells and potions, but they're also so easy to trick. It seems they'll believe almost anything."

Harry nodded.

"That's because it's much easier to believe a simple lie than accept a complicated truth. Believe me, I know from my aunt and uncle. And it was like that for me at first. I couldn't believe there was magic even when I was doing it all the time. No one would dare think any different because everyone would laugh at them just like that man we met at the train station."

Ginny nodded slowly. She reached over and pressed the button she had seen Harry touch on the top of the CD player. She could see from a window the CD spinning around in its box and the sounds of the Weird Sisters filled her head again.

"I wish you could listen, too," she said to Harry. "It's beautiful."

Harry smiled.

"I can."

He reached into the box and pulled out another set of ear muffs. He put them on his head and plugged the lead into another hole in the box. Then he laid down onto the blanket and shifted so that Ginny could rest her head on his chest. As the Weird Sisters started up their melodious chorus again, Harry began to sing. The sound traveled up through his chest and tickled Ginny's ear where she lay. Then she joined in as well.

"I'm confounded by your love;

it fills me every day;

it must just be your magic spell;

there is no other way.

"I haven't seen your potion;

I didn't spot your charm;

But this feeling that's inside me now;

I know I'll feel no harm.

"I'm confounded by your love;

it melts away my fears;

I'm riding on my broomstick now

Away from all my tears."

"You say you've put away your wand,

you've no spell left to hide;

Does this mean that my love for you

Is what I feel inside?

"I'm confounded by your love;

it fills me every day;

it must just be your magic spell;

there is no other way."

Harry had started into the next two songs before he became aware that Ginny was no longer singing. He looked down at her and saw that she was softly inhaling and exhaling with the rise and fall of her chest and that her eyes were closed. She had fallen asleep. Being careful not to arouse her again, Harry slowly reached over and turned off the CD player. He gently moved her into a more comfortable position on his chest and held her tightly to him. But Harry did not sleep himself. He continued to watch Ginny's lineless face and the suddenly all-knowing smile that formed across her relaxed lips as she rested. He had almost finished counting her freckles when her eyes came slowly open. She looked at him for a moment, still confused with the disorientation of sleep and then smiled more fully when she realized where she was and whom she was with.

"Do I bore you?" asked Harry.

Ginny stretched and yawned as she shook her head.

"I'm just relaxed."

"Any nightmares?"

Ginny shook her head again and smiled.

"Never with you."

Ginny stood up and reached out her arms to pull Harry with her.

"Come on," she said, running her hand along the side of his face as Snitch made a curious noise in the background. "There's still lots more to show you."

Ginny and Harry quickly used magic to gather up their belongings and continued their walk along the edge of the forest that divided them from the Muggle world. Ginny led Harry confidently around well-worn trails as the sun began its slow descent in the summer sky. Harry had always thought of England as a crowded place and marveled that there seemed to be so much wild land in the area around the Burrow. Every now and then they would come across another oddly-shaped house and Harry would know before Ginny told him that it belonged to another wizarding family. As the afternoon wore on, they circled a ring of pine trees rising in a steep slope around an ancient looking lake. It was difficult for Harry to imagine they were still in England, much less as close to London as the Weasleys appeared to live. He wondered how all of this scenery could escape Muggle eyes. Perhaps it was enchanted so that they really couldn't see or perhaps they were always just too busy to notice.

At last, they reached the end of the lake and came over a ridge. Ginny pointed out the misshapen form of the Burrow not far below them. But before they descended the slope to return to the house, she guided Harry to small patch of grass under a young-looking tree whose branches were just long enough to shade them from the strong late afternoon sun. Ginny conjured a flask of lemon squash and two glasses and poured out a drink for herself and Harry. Snitch jumped out of the waist pocket of Ginny's dress and landed on top of the flask making a sharp hooting sound. Ginny conjured a very tiny cup and gently fed some of the lemon squash to Snitch while stroking the top of his head with her finger.

"We can rest here," she said to Harry. She patted the trunk of the tree. "My parents planted this tree the year I was born. They planted a tree for each of my brothers as well. It was one of my best friends when I was growing up. Now I think it's grown a bit more than I have."

Harry still didn't know quite what to say. He was still busy taking in his surroundings. He realized how much he still didn't know about ordinary wizard life, having spent most of the days since he had first found out he was a wizard in Hogwarts and its surrounding area. He still had so many questions to ask Ginny he didn't know where to begin but before he could form any of them, he became aware that she was speaking to him again.

"Harry," she said, looking a little serious. "There's something else I wanted to tell you."

Harry looked at her in surprise, wondering what more Ginny could have left unsaid.

"I - I want to thank you," Ginny went on, "for saving my life."

Harry sighed and smiled.

"You saved my life, too, Ginny," he replied gently.

"No, I don't mean just now in that room. I mean that, too, of course, but I wanted to thank you for saving my life in the Chamber of Secrets. You could have died down there. You very nearly did, I know that. And," Ginny looked down at the ground, "even with everything that's happened to us lately, both the good and the bad, I still don't think I've ever felt as relieved as I did that moment that I woke up and saw you there. B - but I could never tell you that. I - I was afraid it would just be too much for me - for both of us, maybe."

Ginny paused and sighed softly.

"And I know I could never have faced him again without you," she added. "You're everything he is not."

Harry moved closer to her.

"The reward was all mine," he said quietly. "But you faced Voldemort all by yourself. I was just there to catch you. I want to thank you, too, Ginny," he added, "not just for saving my life but for showing me that I wasn't alone."

Ginny shook her head.

"You were never alone, Harry. I'm just glad I was able to help you realize that."

Ginny and Harry stared into each other's eyes for a few moments. Then when it became clear there was nothing left for them to say that words could be used to express, they moved toward each other in a single moment. Ginny closed her eyes as she felt Harry draw his arms around her and his lips move onto hers. His tongue had just moved gently inside to touch hers when Harry suddenly drew away, spitting a stray strand of ginger-colored hair out of his mouth.

"Long hair gets in the way," said Ginny, giggling. "Maybe it would be better if I cut it."

Ginny giggled harder when she saw the mortified look on Harry's face. His horrified expression fell into a frown almost immediately as he realized he'd been had but then that thought, too, was swept from him as he sat there and listened to Ginny's infectious laughter. Once like so many things about her, it may have meant little to him, but now it seemed even more pleasing to his ears than phoenix song.

Ginny suddenly grew serious.

"I wasn't finished," she declared.

Ginny took care to keep the hair out of her face and she and Harry moved into a fast and passionate kiss. Every part of Harry seemed to reach into Ginny's body and tickle her soul. Blue sky and green earth spun around like a top as the two lovers tumbled down the hill, never once breaking their kiss. Once Ginny heard the soft sounds of moaning as she and Harry tried to reach even further into the depths of each other's passion. She didn't know whether the sound belonged to her or to Harry and found that it no longer mattered: the whole of their bond was much greater than even the sum of its parts. And just when it seemed it was no longer clear where Ginny ended and Harry began, a voice in the background rang out:

"Hey! No snogging at the Burrow!"

Harry and Ginny disentangled themselves in surprise and looked up to dizzily to see the world still spinning around them and the familiar forms of Ron and Hermione revolving with the landscape.

Once the world had settled back down, Harry could see that Ron was grinning from ear to ear this time, his face deeply flushed. Hermione also had a high pink color in her cheeks and rested her bushy hair against Ron's shoulder as she watched her two other best friends on the ground.

"Goddess knows it's never been done before," remarked Ginny, sitting up.

"We've been ordered to fetch you," said Ron.

Harry stood up followed by Ginny.

"Sirius has had a bit of a setback with tea," explained Hermione. "I think we're all needed to help sort things out so that we can eat some time tonight."

"He wasn't joking when he put on that apron," added Ron.

Ginny and Harry smiled at one another.

"I suppose we'd better be down then," said Harry sighing. He started to walk forward when Ron's hand moved to his shoulder, stopping him.

"What?"

Harry was surprised to see that the smile Ron had worn on his face just a moment before had now vanished as he looked back between him and Ginny a little anxiously.

"Before we go in, Harry," he said seriously. "Th - there's something I wanted to say."

Ron paused meaningfully as the others waited for him to continue.

"I - it's just, I - I've thought about what you said and I don't think there's anyone better for my little sister than my best friend." Ron's voice started to crack. "I - "

Harry put his own hand on Ron's shoulder. He had heard enough. He didn't want Ron to embarrass himself, even in front of his closest friends.

"It's all right, mate," he said. "I know. Don't worry. We're okay, now."

Ron's face broke into a sheepish grin even as looked to be swallowing a lump in his throat with some difficulty. Hermione took hold of his hand as Ginny clutched Harry's. The four friends made their way down the hill, Ron taking his sister's other hand in the middle. As they drew closer, Ron was quick to point out the voluminous smoke coming from the front of the house where Sirius' outdoor cooking had taken a turn for the worse. But none of them seemed to mind this too much. Their quick and happy conversation seemed to blend in with the buzzing of insects and the songs of the birds around them.

And the sounds of the Burrow were filled once again with the laughter of children.

THE END