The Silent Siege

Chapter 24

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 had wanted to stand up to Dumbledore on his own terms, to use his own manipulative logic against him, to destroy his reasoning rather than the precious artifacts in his office, but while Albus Dumbledore was very skilled at keeping his own thoughts to himself, he had the uncanny ability to force others to show him exactly what it was they were feeling even when they were not always aware of it themselves. Harry felt an enormous, almost unbearable anger rise up from inside of him. He was angry at Dumbledore for betraying him when he had trusted and defended him in front of his friends for so long. But more than that, Harry was angry at himself for blindly following the headmaster and defending him in front of his friends. He knew in his heart of hearts that he had done so not because Dumbledore had earned that trust, but because he, Harry, had been unwilling to take responsibility for what he had done and what he would have to do. Harry felt his fists start to clench and unclench and when he opened his mouth to speak, raw anger spilled out as surely as if Dumbledore was standing there extracting it from his gut.

"Why?" he demanded. "Because of some stupid prophecy! You could have killed him and all this could be over!"

"I could not have killed him," replied Dumbledore calmly.

"He was about to die himself!" Harry decided angrily. "You could have just let him die even but, no, you saved him, didn't you? That's what you did!"

"I did not save him nor would I ever try to save him."

Harry ignored Dumbledore.

"You saved him just so that I could - that I would be the one - you don't care how many more people will die because of him, do you, just so long as I meet my destiny? You're obsessed with this prophecy! You've been obsessed for years! The story just has to end the way you think it should, doesn't it? You have to be right! Albus Dumbledore can never be wrong about anything, can he? WELL, THIS TIME HE IS. I'M NOT DOING IT! IF HE COMES BACK, YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HIM, NOT ME!"

Harry's eye caught hold of a very delicate model of the revolving planets Dumbledore always kept on his desk. Harry had destroyed it the year before but there it sat again, magically repaired, no doubt reminding Dumbledore that it was Harry's fate to kill Voldemort. Well, if he had to break it a thousand times to convince Dumbledore that there was no such thing as fate and prophecy, then he would do just that. Harry's hand reached angrily for the model but before he could connect, Dumbledore's own hand reached out with surprising speed and restrained his wrist.

"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. First of all, I did not kill Voldemort because I do not possess the means to do so."

Harry was not sure why but he suddenly found his anger ebbing out of him like air from a burst balloon. He quickly found himself sitting down across from the headmaster exactly as Dumbledore had asked him to do when he had first entered the office. He was not sure what he felt now. It seemed that all he could do was shake his head with incredulity.

"You can't kill him?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

A hollow laugh escaped from Harry's chest.

"If you can't kill him, maybe you can explain how it is that I will be able to kill him?"

But Dumbledore shook his head again.

"I cannot, Harry. But I know that whatever it is, you are not prepared for it yet. Voldemort knew that, too. That is why he wanted to kill you now - first - before you were prepared to fight back. That is why I wanted to trap him. I knew that if I could make Voldemort weak enough, I could force him out of his present body. And in doing so, I could give you the time you needed to prepare to face him when he returns again."

Harry frowned.

"And the second reason?"

Dumbledore paused but continued to look steadily at Harry.

"The second reason, Harry, is that even if by some means, I had managed to kill Lord Voldemort, it would not have brought any lasting peace to the wizarding world because it would mean that I would have taken his place."

If Harry had felt confused as to what Dumbledore had said to this point, it seemed nothing to what he felt now.

"B- but you could never - you would never - "

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

Harry shook his head again. "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."

"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.

"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 many of the others 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 could go and even then I was able to do so only because Voldemort was in such a weakened state when I cast the curse, both physically and magically. 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."

"Professor Dumbledore," said Harry cautiously. "When he comes back - 'trapped inside an ordinary body' - but when I was down in the Chamber, he was inside my body. It felt just like it did that time in the Ministry of Magic only there was no snake. This time he - sir, what if he - what if I - "

Dumbledore was already shaking his head.

"You needn't worry. It is true, yes, that you will always share a bond with him. But I believe that Lord Voldemort's specific ability to project his mind into your body had much to do with the magic he used to return that night of the Third Task. It was no doubt why he wanted to use you instead of one of his other enemies. But unless he returns by the same means again next time - and I have made it very difficult for him to do so - he will not be able to possess anyone again not, that is, unless they allow him into their minds of their own free will."

"L - like Professor Quirrell did?"

Dumbledore nodded somberly.

Harry swallowed. "I shouldn't think anyone would want to do that."

Dumbledore looked up at Harry very darkly.

"Oh, I'm afraid there are those who might. 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 when he does finally return again, Harry, you will be old enough and strong enough to face him."

Harry frowned.

"Before he - well, before he - before you made him leave his body, Voldemort said something about the 'twin prophecies.' He said that was why you couldn't kill him.'"

"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 me by a very bright young centaur. It was what led me to suspect that it was really 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 like a tide that was coming into a shore as suddenly as it had receded.

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

"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 begin to put into place 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."

Harry paused for a long moment during which Dumbledore continued to study him as if he had no other care in the world than to watch him. It was after what must have been several minutes that Dumbledore finally said, very gently:

"There is something else you wish to ask me, Harry, isn't there?"

"H - how was I able to resist Voldemort - in that dream - a - and when he possessed me - in the original room? It should have been just like before. And I never practiced any more Occlumency. I should have been weaker not stronger!"

Dumbledore paused himself and stared back at Harry thoughtfully. While his face was otherwise lined in deep seriousness, the slightest trace of a sparkle began to dance in the pupil of his right eye.

"I think you know the answer to that question yourself, Harry, or you would not have chosen this moment to ask me."

"I - it was Ginny," said Harry slowly, looking more at Dumbledore's desk than up at the headmaster, as if he was carrying on a conversation with himself. "I - I kept thinking about protecting her in the dream, a - and in the original room, when Voldemort was inside my head, I only kept thinking about her. I - I couldn't hurt her - I wouldn't let him hurt her," he decided. "And somehow - "

Harry did not say another word. He looked up at Dumbledore. Very slightly, almost as if it was mostly in Harry's imagination, the headmaster started to nod.

"'He will have power the Dark Lord knows not,'" Harry quoted. "That power - my power is Ginny. That's why Voldemort was always afraid of her."

But this time Dumbledore shook his head.

"I do not deny that Ginny had a power over Voldemort, a power that he did not - and will never - understand. But the power is not hers alone. You also have that power, Harry, as I told you last year in my office at this very same time. It is what saved you from Voldemort when he first tried to kill you. It is what rescued Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets and it is what I knew would prevent you both from being killed by Voldemort again this time. And it something that Voldemort does not know and will never understand. It is love, Harry; your power is love."

Harry looked back at Dumbledore for a very long time. He felt suddenly unsure what it was that he was supposed to be feeling, let alone saying. It was when Harry had started to feel sure that his indecision would never resolve that Dumbledore said:

"If you don't have any more questions, Harry, I'm afraid Minister Fudge will be on his way here any minute. I've no doubt he is concerned once again to rescue what is left of his job."

"Oh, oh, right," said Harry a little clumsily. He got up from his chair.

"One more thing, Harry," said Dumbledore as he neared the door. "As much as you all may have disliked my arrangements to trick Voldemort, I'm afraid I cannot take full credit. While I was responsible for some of the details, most of the 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."

Harry nodded and turned around to leave.

"Harry."

Harry turned around again to see that the odd vulnerability and hesitancy he had seen in Dumbledore's eyes when he had first walked into his office seemed to have returned.

"As I think you are aware now, while you were sleeping, the Ministry was very busy rounding up the remaining Death Eaters and preparing them for trial and sentencing, hopefully into a more secure prison than Azkaban proved to be without the aid of the Dementors. As a result of information they have learned during their interrogations, and along with testimony provided by Professor Snape and Professor Lupin, the aurors performed a number of raids on the hiding places many of the Death Eaters used. They found many things - magical and otherwise - to make a further case against them. Much of this they kept as evidence but I persuaded them to have me to return something that once belonged to you."

Dumbledore moved his palm over a panel in the wall at the side of the room, larger but not unlike the one in which Harry had seen Winky disappear at the beginning of the autumn term. The wall moved back to reveal a small closet. Dumbledore reached inside and took out Harry's battered but still intact Firebolt.

"Why Lucius Malfoy kept it," said Dumbledore quietly as he handed the broomstick back to a wondering Harry, "I don't suppose we'll ever find out. Perhaps he wanted to prove to Voldemort that he'd tried his best to stop you. Perhaps he merely wanted to have a trophy to remind him of his fleeting cleverness. Whatever the case, it will now remind us that he did not succeed."

Harry watched the Firebolt mesmerized. There was no doubt in his mind it was his. He ran his finger gently over the still vibrating handle, collecting a small layer of dust as he did so. And then just as if he had been visited by the same powers that had led Voldemort to learn the history of Ginny's old diary, Harry felt as though he could see in an instant every moment of this broomstick's history - its mysterious appearance, how Sirius had watched from the stands as he had flown around the Quidditch pitch on it, and how he had seemed to feel his godfather's spirit urging him on as he had used it to outrun the Death Eaters when they had chased him over and through the Forbidden Forest. Harry had felt many emotions in Dumbledore's office that morning. It almost seemed unremarkable when he looked up at the now blurred face of the headmaster, twin teardrops running underneath his glasses and down his cheeks.

And then it seemed that Harry no longer felt like resisting when Dumbledore, his own old eyes suddenly filling with sad tears, pulled Harry toward him in a firm but loving embrace.

***

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

Ron touched his cheek gingerly, less out of pain than surprise. But he did not need to stop and ask his sister why she had just struck him. Neither of them spoke but they continued to stare at each other for a long minute. The only sound that could be heard was Amanda rushing quickly up the stairs to her dormitory but even this was ignored by both of the Weasleys.

"Ginny," said Ron quietly. "Look, I - "

"Why did you - how could you - why did you go and say that to him?" Ginny spat, her eyes filling with angry and hurt tears. "I've been trying to stop him the whole year from brooding over Sirius!"

"I - I have, too, I - "

Ginny ignored her brother's interruption.

"I'd only just that morning finally gotten him to open up to me about it and then you go along and tell him that he was the one who killed Sirius after all. And don't tell me that wasn't what you meant to say!"

Ron stopped and thought for a moment. Would he have it if he hadn't stopped himself? Is that what he had really meant? Ginny's eyes continued to stare daggers at him, daring him to deny it. And Ron suddenly knew that he could not. As horrible as it seemed it was exactly what Ron had been thinking that day. Facing him down like that in the bathroom, Ron had only thought of how Harry was leading them all into danger, how he had been too stubborn to see how Ron had to find some way - any way - to make him see reason even if it had meant sticking a knife into his best friend's heart.

"I - I didn't mean to - I - I don't know what made me say it. I - I - I was panicked and scared, all right?"

"We were all scared, Ron! That's not an excuse."

"Well you didn't act very scared!" Ron retorted, suddenly defensive. "Sitting there snogging him while You-Know-Who was coming to find you!"

"I thought you were all keen on Harry and I getting together!" Ginny snapped back. "Not exactly how you imagined things, was it?"

"Well, no! I thought he'd look after you, not try to get you killed!"

"If you want me to have a boyfriend who just closes me off and over-protects me then you picked the wrong person!"

Ron didn't say anything.

"He was telling you the truth, you know, Ron," said Ginny, her eyes full of feeling. "He'd only just told me how he felt. He had only just realized it. He followed me because he wanted me to know the truth before he died. And you couldn't understand that, could you?"

Ron found he could do little else but hang his head low.

"I expect he's had some pretty awful things to say about me since the two of you woke up."

Ginny shook her head.

"But he hasn't. 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 but I don't want that and I don't think you should either."

"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," said Ginny, her voice growing softer. "I want you to apologize to Harry. It's him you hurt - and yourself if you can realize it. You couldn't find the strength to stop yourself from hurting him when you were afraid. But you have to find the strength to stop his pain now."

"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 still cradling his Firebolt in his arms. 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!"

Nevins stopped short and stared at Harry.

"Sir," Harry added quietly.

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

"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."

"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 shook 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 had blocked Ron's confrontation with Harry out of her mind as if it, like everything else that had happened to them that day of the final Hogsmeade weekend had all been merely another one of her nightmares. But when she had seen her brother again, the hurt had just come flowing back to her. She wondered if it would to Harry, too. 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 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 out 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 guess 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 I'll take of Ron."

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. After carefully laying his Firebolt on the bed, he started to empty the contents of one drawer, suddenly remembering that it wouldn't be Privet Drive he would be dragging his trunk to anymore. This thought did not fail to brighten him still. He didn't know what it would take to kill Voldemort but he could worry about it after this summer was over.

At first, Harry 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 been tied 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 watching all the wonder in his eyes reflected back in hers when she rushed toward him and they embraced as if they had been apart for months and not hours. They stayed like that for a few more moments when Ginny suddenly stiffened and gasped.

"Harry!"

Harry let Ginny go and followed her gaze to his Firebolt on his bed.

"Th - that's..."

Ginny's voice trailed off as she touched the Firebolt gingerly with her fingers just as Harry had done himself in Dumbledore's office.

"But, Harry, that's your old one, isn't it? But how - "

Harry told Ginny how Dumbledore had returned the Firebolt to him, smiling a little oddly as he finished, as if not sure he should be doing so.

"Oh, Harry," said Ginny when he had finished. She took hold of his shoulders.

"I want you to have it. You're much too good a flyer to be using a Cleansweep."

Ginny gasped again.

"B - but Harry, I couldn't, it's yours. It's the one that Sirius - "

Ginny broke off but Harry shook his head.

"Call it a loan then. But it's still a good broomstick. It's meant to be used not stowed away like some sort of lost memory. And Sirius would have wanted it if he'd known how much you mean to me."

Ginny didn't seem to know what else to say. She hugged Harry again for a moment before settling for a sideways snuggle. It was then that she noticed for the first time the book that lay open on his lap.

"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?"

"Dumbledore and I talked for a long time before he gave me back that Firebolt 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 again 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. She looked back briefly and saw that Harry was unable to disguise the anxious look on his face. Although she had told Ron the truth that they had talked nothing about him in the days they had been separated, Ginny sensed that Harry wanted her to do anything but leave him alone in that room with his best friend. But Ginny also knew that she could do nothing for their friendship by remaining. She went down to join Hermione and forced herself not to look back again.