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Harry Potter and the Death Eater's quest by justanothermuggle

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Format: Novel
Chapters: 24
Word Count: 289,675
Status: COMPLETED

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Violence, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse,
Contains Spoilers

Genres: Fluff, Romance, Action/Adventure


Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Shacklebolt, Arthur, Bill, Molly, Fleur, George, Ginny
Pairings: Harry/Ginny, Arthur/Molly, Bill/Fleur, Ron/Hermione, Draco/OC

First Published: 10/03/2008


Last Chapter: 12/21/2008
Last Updated: 09/13/2009

Summary:

My first fanfic - completed

The battle is over, Voldemort is defeated. Now it's time to go on living, but even with
Voldemort gone, evil isn't dead. This is my story what happened after the Battle of
Hogwarts, picking up the story where JKR leave our trio in the headmaster's office...

Banner by me. Thank you Ghost Chicken for your great proofreading.

The sequel "Harry Potter and the Right of justice"is now posted.

Chapter 1: Tears of Sorrow and Joy


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A/N September 5th. The entire story has been reposted. There's been a couple of tyops and other small details
corrected.

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Chapter 1 – Tears of Sorrow and Joy

She felt a jolt in her left arm. She instinctively knew what it meant as she saw the Dark Mark fade, but didn’t
want to believe it. The Dark Lord was dead. She didn’t need to wait until the Daily Prophet confirmed it and
hailed the Potter boy as the great hero.

“If I only would have been there, I could have fought, and maybe even have died by the Dark Lord’s side.
There’s nothing left. No meaning. My world has ended.” She sat in silence as an idea began to form and take
shape in her mind. “Yes, my world has ended. All that’s left for me now is to make sure Harry Potter’s world
ends too. I will make him suffer a fate worse than death.” Her face contorted into an almost inhuman expression
of twisted mirth as she let out a laugh devoid of any trace of sanity.

An exhausted Harry left the headmistress’ Office with Ron and Hermione, as ever, by his side. The ordeal of the
battle had finally begun to take its toll. He felt the pain slowly wash over him—as though the effects of the
Cruciatus curse burned through every cell of his body. The spot on his chest where Voldemort’s killing curse had
struck him throbbed with a dull agony that pounded at him with every beat of his heart.

Exhausted themselves, Ron and Hermione led their friend up to Gryffindor Tower, where they removed his
trainers and socks and heaved him onto his bed, covering him with a quilt. Barely aware of what was happening,
Harry whispered, “thank you,” through dry and cracked lips as he drifted into a deep sleep.

Ron and Hermione watched over him for a while, still in protection mode. No one knew better than they what he
had been through. He told them how he’d discovered he also was a Horcrux. He had told them bits of what
happened in the forest. They marveled to know that Harry Potter had managed to survive the killing curse
again. He’d promised to tell them all the details later, once he’d had some rest. Now satisfied that their best
mate lay asleep and safe, they collapsed onto Ron’s bed and fell asleep in one another’s arms.

Ginny awoke in a classroom where the Weasleys had stayed for the night, her head cradled in her mother’s lap.
She remembered that the events of the previous night weren’t a dream. Molly was still asleep, so Ginny sat up
carefully and crept out of the room to take a walk through the corridors of the shattered castle, if for no other
reason than to clear her mind. She thought about Fred and then Tonks, Lupin, Colin, and all the others.

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Grief consumed her as she slid down against a wall and cried. Her shoulders shook and her chest heaved with
her sobs. Bloody leaking hosepipe. She didn’t like crying normally, but this time it actually felt good. Finally, she
thought about Ron, Hermione and…Harry.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about Harry at this moment. Maybe she was still in shock and couldn’t feel much at
all. Part of her felt completely empty. Flashes of the battle played through her mind in a seemingly endless loop.
It was frustrating. She had felt so much yesterday, seeing him for the first time in months. Then there was that
excruciating anguish that flooded her very being as a sobbing Hagrid approached the entrance to the castle
carrying Harry’s limp and lifeless form in his massive arms.

She remembered screaming in horror as though her heart and lungs had been literally ripped from her body,
knowing that her beloved Harry was dead at the hands of Voldemort. But then, he miraculously appeared from
under his invisibility cloak, throwing it off with a look of pure vengeance in his hauntingly striking green eyes.
By Merlin’s beard, Harry Potter was alive! Her languishing heart leapt as a jolt of pure adrenaline coursed
through her veins, followed almost immediately by a surge of intense anger.

Of course she was thrilled that Harry had beaten the evil tosser and lived to tell the tale, but still… Did she love
him or hate him? Was she truly angry with him, and if so, could she forgive him? She didn’t know. All Ginny
knew now is that she needed to go to him and let whatever was going to happen…happen. Resolved, she got up
from the floor, wiped her tearstained face on her sleeve, and made for Gryffindor Tower, where she found Ron
sitting by himself in the common room. With a weak smile, she strode over and gave her brother a firm hug.

“Hi, Ron. What’s going on? Where are the others,” Ginny asked as they broke their embrace.

“Hermione’s in our room watching over Harry,” Ron told her. “I’m here sending away anyone who wants to try
and see him.”

Harry. Ginny immediately knew she wanted to see him, needed to see him, now that she knew where he was.
Despite very mixed emotions flying around her heart, she simply couldn’t wait any longer. “Is he okay,” Ginny
asked, biting her bottom lip. “I want to go up.” She gave Ron her don’t-even-think-about-telling-me-no look as
he considered his answer.

“He’s sleeping. Madame Pomfrey was here earlier to look in on him; she told us to let him sleep. He was put
through a lot yesterday. We all were, but not like Harry. You might as well go on up. You I won’t try to stop,”
Ron said with a sigh and the half-grin so characteristically Ron.

Good answer, dear brother-of-mine. Ginny had started toward the stairs when she turned back to Ron again.
“How are you,” she asked.

Ron’s gaze fell to his lap, where his fingers picked at an imaginary loose thread on his trousers. “I don’t know.
We won, but so much was lost. I’ll be fine, I guess,” Ron replied as he cast a weary glance at his sister.

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Ginny returned his with an empathic sisterly look, and the proceeded up the stairs to Harry’s dormitory, making
sure her wand was tucked safely away in case her first impulse might be to Bat-bogey him. With trembling
fingers, she grasped the knob, quietly turned the latch, and carefully opened the door. She slipped through,
closing it silently behind her. She found Hermione sitting next to Harry’s bed in the rocking chair she had
conjured, watching him as a nurse would watch a recuperating patient.

“Hi, Ginny,” she said softly. “I think he’s having nightmares.”

Ginny sat next to Hermione and looked down at Harry. He was sleeping deeply, but moved back and forth
moaning, the sweat beading on his troubled brow.

“I think he’s reliving the night of the third Triwizard task when he faced off against Voldemort in that graveyard.
He mumbled something about Cedric a little while ago,” Hermione said sadly.

“W-what can we do,” Ginny asked with a tear in her voice.

“I think the best thing we can do is just be here for him.” Hermione looked up at Ginny meaningfully. “How are
you? Are you okay,” Hermione asked her friend.

“It’s so surreal. It’s over, but F-fred is g-gone,” Ginny replied as a tear stole down her cheek.

Hermione stood and caught Ginny in a sisterly hug. “I know,” she said haltingly, “I know.” A shudder shook her
body. Hermione had made it a point to keep strong for her friends. She hoped her parents were all right, but for
now, she knew she needed to be here for her friends.

They looked back at Harry, who began to thrash about in his sleep. “No, not Sirius,” Harry cried out. “No, don’t
be dead…Sirius!”

Ginny gazed down at Harry, her Harry, and instinctively took his shaking hand a clasped it between her own.
Although she had lost Fred, Harry had lost so much more. His parents, his Godfather Sirius Black, Remus Lupin
and Tonks, who made Harry Godfather to their son, and Dumbledore. Dumbledore’s death had been so hard on
him. Knowing Harry, she figured he would probably take the blame upon himself for everyone killed in the
battle. More than anything, though, there was one single emotion filling Ginny.

“I still love him, Hermione. I always have and I always will. I should be angry that he broke up with me last
year. I should be furious that he walked away from me and faked his own death without a single word, but I’m
just glad he’s alive!

I should have known what was really happening when Voldemort came from the forest with his body, but by
Merlin, I should want to kill him myself for making believe he was dead! Yet, Hermione, seeing him now—like
this—I…I can’t. I can’t be angry because I love him. I love him so much…” Ginny whispered through soft sobs, as

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hot hears coursed down her face, spilling onto her shirt. Hermione reached over and hugged her again.

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you’re here, Ginny. Harry is like a brother to me and I’ve stayed by his
side through all of this hell. But in truth, yours is the face, above all others, he’ll want to see when he wakes.
I’m sure of it.”

Ginny’s heart beat faster. “Did he…speak of me while you were gone,” Ginny asked hopefully.

Hermione let out a long breath. “He tried to hide his feelings and focus on what we had to do, but I know he
thought of you all the time. He didn’t want me or Ron to know, but he couldn’t hide it from us. Not really.”

Harry tossed again in his sleep. “I must…let him kill me,” Harry sighed. “She must live…love… her.” Harry’s body
jerked violently again as if he’d been hit with a sledgehammer. He gasped and then let out a slow breath.
“Love…Ginny…” Harry breathed as he fell back into a peaceful sleep.

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other and didn’t say anything at all for a moment, but then Hermione broke
the silence. “He did tell us bits of what happened yesterday, but he was half-asleep at the time.” Hermione
continued, “And he went into the forest because he needed Voldemort to kill him. In fact, Voldemort threw the
killing curse at him. The killing curse, Ginny, and he survived it again!”

Ginny allowed tears of happiness to flow down her cheeks while one year of bottled-up love, hope and affection
exploded inside her. “He loves me,” Ginny began to cry again. “I guess I always knew he did. I mean, I was
hoping he still loved me, but he’d never said it before. But then again, I’d never said it to him either.”

“Then tell him you love him, Ginny, because I don’t think anyone ever said that to him. At least not after his
parents were killed. Do you want me to stay,” Hermione asked.

“No. I think I want to be alone with him,” Ginny replied as a surge of love filled her bosom like a rose opening
up to the summer sun.

Hermione hugged Ginny again, saying she would join Ron in the common room, and admonished her to call
down the stairs if she needed them. Ginny still held Harry hand, giving it comforting strokes as he slept on.
What had really happened in that forest? Why did Harry want Voldemort to kill him? In fact, Voldemort thought
he had. How did Harry survive? Well, whatever happened in the forest turned the tide of the battle—there was
no doubt about that. Whatever it was, it must have been what he had to leave her for last year. But he loved
her. Of that she could be sure, and that was all that mattered now. He deserved a chance to explain himself to
her when the time came.

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Harry felt bathed in the warmth of a bright light as he began to stir. Was he awake or dreaming? Was he alive
or dead? He didn’t know, but in the light he saw the one face he wanted to see more than any other. Ginny was
there in the light…or was she the very light itself? Hadn’t he been at King’s Cross Station with Professor
Dumbledore, or was that only a dream? No, it was Ginny this time…unless she too, was a dream. Harry still felt
a bit confused, but he spoke into the light anyway. “Ginny. Beautiful Ginny,” Harry rasped. “Am I alive?”

“Yes, Harry,” she said barely above a whisper. “You’re alive.” She smiled through her tears, her gaze focused on
his bruised and battered beautiful face.

He still drifted in and out of sleep and his eyes were only half-open. “But he hit me with the killing curse…you
were the last thing I saw. But how can I be alive?”

“Harry, wake up. You’re alive. You did it. You beat him. He’s gone,” Ginny said, still holding his hand. “If my
voice and my touch don’t feel real enough, maybe this will.” Ginny caressed his cheek with her other hand as
she gazed lovingly into the emerald eyes she’d missed so desperately all those months they’d been apart. She
leaned down and kissed his lips, pouring all of her pent-up love and yearning into it.

Harry pulled out of his dreamlike state of half-sleep and returned to reality. Ginny was truly there at last—and
she was kissing him! After what seemed like several sunlit days, she drew away. They stared into one another’s
eyes and Ginny could see that he was wide awake. “Ginny, it wasn’t a dream,” Harry asked hopefully.

“No,” she said, still caressing his battered cheek. She kissed him tenderly again. “I’m here.”

“Did I say anything,” Harry asked as if he suspected he had been talking in his sleep.

“Yes. You did…and I loved hearing it. I love you too, Harry,” Ginny said with a smile.

He couldn’t hold back his tears anymore. He finally allowed himself to cry. Ginny had never seen him like this.
He was shaking miserably, as if all the burdens he had carried for so long finally began to break him.

As Harry’s emotional dam broke, Ginny heart broke with it. She slipped into the bed next to him, wrapping her
arms around his heaving shoulders as she gently pressed his disheveled head against her breast. She nestled
her now-moist cheek into his mass of raven hair and held him close while he sobbed. “I’m sorry I had to leave
you. I didn’t want to leave you, but I had to go,” Harry explained through his tears.

“I know, my love. I don’t understand, but I know. Voldemort’s gone now and there’s nothing to keep us apart.

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Nothing at all,” Ginny soothed while Harry settled and collected himself.

He rose up, turned, and took her face in both of his hands. In quiet desperation he promised to tell her about
the past nine months. “I want you go know it all, Ginny, but first I need to tell you this: I might have said it in
my sleep, but I want to say it now—I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley.” More tears streaked down his face.

“I tried to be angry with you for leaving me behind, but I just can’t. It doesn’t matter anymore. Not now. You’re
here, safe in my arms, and I’ll never let you go. You are so annoyingly irresistible and I love you, Harry James
Potter.”

“Then please listen now. I need to tell you everything, and I mean everything.” Harry settled himself against the
headboard and took her soft white hand into his rough tanned one and began to tell her…everything.

Ron and Hermione waited in the common room on the sofa, holding each other and speculating as to what might
be happening upstairs in the boys’ dormitory. After two hours, Ron became nervous. “It’s too quiet up there.
Maybe I should check on them,” he said as he disengaged his arms from around Hermione and hoisted his
six-foot five-inch frame off the sofa.

“Let’s both go,” Hermione said with a resigned sigh. She was afraid that they might come upon a scene that Ron
might not be too keen on. She followed Ron across the common room to be the staircase that led to the dorm
and climbed the stairs to the topmost door. As they approached, they could hear Harry and Ginny talking.
Talking is good. That means they’re not snogging. Hermione followed Ron into the room and found Harry and
Ginny cuddled up on Harry’s bed, holding hands.

Ron stopped abruptly and narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing, Harry,” he demanded.

Harry and Ginny looked at him incredulously, but it was Ginny who answered. “Ron, I love Harry and he loves
me, but Voldemort kept us apart. Now he’s gone and we’re back together again. Don’t you dare go all
big-brotherly on me, Ronald Weasley, or you’ll be watching out for Bat-bogeys next,” Ginny warned her brother
firmly. She immediately regretted her threat, though, as she registered Ron’s less-than-favourable leer.

Ron didn’t say another word, but turned on his heel and left the room, freckled brow furrowed and sapphire eyes
flashing. He left the door standing wide open in his wake. Harry and Ginny looked questioningly at Hermione,
who sighed resolutely. “You two stay here. I’ll talk some sense into him.” She stepped back out through the door
and closed it behind her.

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Hermione returned to the common room where she found Ron furiously pacing back and forth like a lion in a
cage. “Hermione, he can’t play with her feelings like that. Be with her, dump her, snog her on his birthday, and
then get together in his bed the first thing today,” Ron stormed.

“Ron, listen. She…”

“She’s my sister and I don’t care if he’s my best friend or the frigging hero to every wizard in Britain…”

“RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!” Ron jumped. He could have sworn that his mother had just come into the room.
Hermione drew her wand and pointed it straight at her boyfriend’s nose. “You are making a huge arse of
yourself! Now you listen before I mute you and leave you at the mercy of Ginny’s Bat-bogeys!”

She’s so beautiful when she’s on about something, even if she is a bit scary sometimes. Whether it was
Hermione’s words or her wand pointed at his face that got his attention, it had an immediate effect. Ron knew
from experience that she wouldn’t hesitate to hex him, so decided it would be best to just shut it and hear her
out.

“Do you remember how Harry told us he’d gone into the forest because he found out that he was the seventh
Horcrux,” Hermione asked him with a steely glint in her eyes.

“Yeah, I remember. What does that have to do with them,” Ron said, pointing toward the stairs leading to the
dormitories, his head cocked and his blue eyes still wide and blazing.

Gods, he is so incredibly hot when he’s angry. “Well, Harry talked in his sleep, and maybe I shouldn’t tell you
this, but Harry walked into that forest to die…for us."But above all, he went to die for Ginny so she could live.
Her image was the last thing he saw before the killing curse slammed into him.

“So…what?”

So…what? Is he kidding me? “Ron, don’t you understand? Dying for someone like that…it’s what Harry’s mum
did! It takes a very deep love to make a sacrifice like that? Harry is not playing with Ginny’s feelings. Far from
it.”

Ron stared at her, nonplussed. “’Mione, what are you trying to say?”

Hermione thought for a few seconds and then asked him, “How many blokes do you know would say they’d

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willingly die for their girlfriends?”

Ron listened and silently contemplated the enormity of what his girlfriend just said to him and it finally dawned
on him. She’s right, of course. She’s always right. Merlin, now I love this annoyingly brilliant woman.

“Harry did actually die for Ginny…sort of…” Hermione went on, “and for all of us. As a result, Voldemort couldn’t
touch us.” Hermione looked at Ron compassionately, almost regretting having lectured him. “I don’t mean to
come down so hard on you, but you must understand that Harry and Ginny are perfectly mad about each other
and deeply in love. Ron, this is nothing new—it’s been building for years.”

She reached up and brushed a lock of ginger away from his eyes so she could search them as she talked to him.
She held him captive with her own chocolate pools. “Please be happy for them. Ginny’s your sister and Harry’s
your best friend. You and I both want them to be happy, yeah?”

Hermione slid her hands over Ron’s chest and around his neck. She moved against him, rose up on her tiptoes
coaxing his ginger head toward hers, and kissed him full on the mouth. “How do you want Harry and Ginny to
feel about us? He loves you like a brother and me like a sister…and you know Ginny and I are best friends.” She
laid her bushy head against Ron’s broad chest and caressed his back.

Ron calmed down considerably and drew her into a tight embrace. “I guess…I’d better go up there, admit I’m an
arse, and…and tell them I’m sorry. And can I tell them about us? I’d like Harry to hear it from me—that the
kissing thing was just a heat of…of the moment thing.”

Hermione nodded and released him. Ron climbed the stairs to the dormitory, rapped softly on the door, and
slowly opened it. Harry and Ginny were still sitting close together, talking and holding hands. He had to admit
he felt genuinely happy for them. They looked up at him expectantly.

“Erm…look, I’m sorry I freaked out and behaved like a senseless gnome,” Ron reddened in apology, “and I’m
happy for you. Honest.”

“Are you sure you mean it,” Ginny asked guardedly.

“Yeah, but just try not to snog too much where I can see you, okay?” Ron smiled nervously and cleared his
throat. “And I also wanted to tell you…well, Harry, you saw the kiss…Hermione and I sort of got together. It
wasn’t just a kiss in the heat of the battle yesterday. It was…erm…real.” Ron flashed his patented half-grin,
guaranteed to stave off the angriest of tempers, except for Molly Weasley’s.

“You finally got together? Well, then, the No Snogging Policy applies to you, too,” Ginny said. “My brother and
my best friend—I do not need to see that. But congratulations anyway.”

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Harry slid off the bed, strode across the room, and crushed Ron in a brotherly bear hug. “You’re the best mate a
bloke could ever ask for, Ron. Simply the best,” Harry declared as they slapped one another’s backs.

“You too, mate,” Ron said. “You too!” Both men grinned at each other, their friendship reaffirmed and a sense of
family established. Hermione came into the room and looked on with a relieved smile. She glanced over at
Ginny, who still sat on Harry’s bed, smiling brightly through fresh tears that coursed down her face into her lap.

The two couples snuggled up on the beds as Harry told Ginny, Ron, and Hermione everything that had happened
to him during the battle. It was the only part of the story Harry hadn’t told Ginny yet. When he finished, he
looked at them all intently and said, “We can never tell anyone else about the Horcruxes or the Hallows. We do
not need any wanna-be Voldemorts wandering about or a load of crackpot wizards challenging me for the Elder
Wand.”

“Too right, we don’t,” Ron said.

The four of them left Gryffindor Tower for the Great Hall to get something to eat. There was a lot of activity in
the corridors. Those who fought in the battle, family who’d arrived, and house-elves all worked in teams, making
repairs and cleaning up. As they passed by, they could hear people whisper, “it’s Potter,” or “it’s them—Potter,
Weasley, and Granger.” Most of them merely wanted to thank them or congratulate them as they passed. In the
Great Hall, they found a table laden with food, so they grabbed plates and helped themselves.

Harry and Ginny sat down together on one side of the table, while Ron and Hermione found places opposite
them. As expected, many in the hall stole an occasional look at them, especially Harry, but no one tried to
approach them. They suspected Professor McGonagall had told everyone still at the castle to leave them alone.
George was the first to approach.

“Hello, George,” Harry said. “Where is everyone?”

“Well…Mum and Dad took Fred…his body…home, but they’ll be back soon,” he replied. “Bill and Charlie are
helping with repairs and Fleur’s in the Hospital wing helping Madame Pomfrey with the wounded. I’ve seen other
families taking their dead home. What about you lot? You okay?”

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione could tell George was trying to put on a brave face and keep a stiff upper lip
as he brought them up to date, but it was no good. The tremor in his voice and the deadness in his eyes spoke
volumes. George Gideon Weasley, Jokester Extraordinaire, was slowly coming unglued. “We’re still in shock, I
guess,” Ron replied. “But under the circumstances, I think we’re all right.”

“What about you, George,” Harry asked. He felt awful about last night’s events that had cost so many lives, one
of them Fred Weasley’s.

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“Like Ron said, still in shock. It’s unreal, but I’m glad Voldemort’s finished,” George said trying to swallow his
tears. “And it’s not your fault anyone died, mate. The killing was Voldemort’s doing. You’re just the one who put
an end to it. You did what you had to do.”

Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist and squeezed. “He’s right, Harry,” she said, pressing a kiss into
his shoulder.

“Thanks,” Harry said with a weak smile, wanting to believe it.

The five of them looked up as Professor McGonagall strode up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw
tables toward them, and she appeared to be in a hurry. “Professor,” Harry said politely.

“Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, Kingsley Shacklebolt is waiting in my office. He has asked to speak with
you immediately.” They excused themselves and followed Professor McGonagall to the Headmistress’ Office.
Ginny and George assured them that they’d be waiting in the Great Hall when they were through.

Kingsley greeted them warmly and then asked Professor McGonagall to leave. He looked tired and very likely
hadn’t had any sleep at all. “I have been appointed Interim Minister for Magic and I need to make an official
statement about the fate of You-Know-Who, but I don’t know what to say. I know you have had bad experiences
with the Ministry before, but I hope you’ll trust me enough to fill me in with some background into the battle
last night. Now, according to Minerva, you came here on a mission for Dumbledore, looking for something?”

Harry stole a glance at professor Dumbledore’s portrait. It nodded, indicating that it was all right to trust in
Kingsley, so Harry began. “I’ll give you the background you want, but I’ll trust your judgment as to what you’ll
include in your statement.”

“Thank you for your vote of confidence, Harry,” Kingsley said humbly. “So let me ask you now: what was your
mission and what were you looking for?”

“Our mission was to destroy Tom Riddle’s…Voldemort’s…Horcruxes,” Harry began. He fully expected the Minister
to inquire as to what a Horcrux might be.

As a former Auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt knew very well what a Horcrux was, but he had never encountered one
before. “Horcruxes! Are you saying there was more than one?”

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“Riddle created six,” Harry said.

The Minister’s eyes opened wide in shock and horror. “So you came here to destroy the last one,” Kingsley
asked.

“The last two, actually…and the one we brought from Gringotts. But then I discovered a seventh.” The three
friends told Kingsley about each of the Horcruxes, including Nagini, save one.

“Riddle’s diary, Gaunt’s ring, Slytherin’s locket, Hufflepuff’s cup, Ravenclaw’s diadem, and Voldemort’s snake,”
Kingsley repeated, ticking each item off on his fingers. “But that’s only six. What was the seventh Horcrux?”

“Not what, sir. Who,” Ron answered darkly, cutting his eyes at Harry.

“I was a Horcrux, but one Riddle never intended. It happened when his killing curse backfired as a result of my
mother’s sacrifice,” Harry explained. “Because of that, the twin cores our wands shared, and the blood he took
from me to regenerate, the Horcrux tied our fates together.”

Harry went on to reveal the truth about Severus Snape and how he found out about his scar. Shacklebolt
couldn’t believe his own ears. So the greasy sod was loyal to Dumbledore and the Order after all! Fantastic
—utterly fantastic!

“In the end, I had to sacrifice myself, but my mother’s protected lived in the blood Riddle took from me, so his
killing curse rebounded yet again, destroying the Horcrux, but leaving me alive and whole. I think you know the
rest.”

Kingsley gazed in utter amazement at these three remarkable teenagers—teenagers—who had fought so
valiantly against the deepest dark arts, and the proceeded to bring down and destroy the most insidious dark
wizard in history.

His gratitude to these young wizards for their perseverance knew no bounds and there just weren’t words
enough to adequately express it, but he tried anyway. “I thank you for your trust. In all fairness, I’ll seek your
approval of the statement before I make it official. I think it’s safe to say that the truth about the Horcruxes
must be kept secret. Does anyone else know about them?”

“Only Ginny,” Harry affirmed. Kingsley looked apprehensive, but Harry continued unabashed. “She’s my
girlfriend and I’ll have no secrets from her. I trust her implicitly.” The love and sincerity on Harry’s face at the
very mention of his beloved’s name left the older man in no doubt as to Ginny’s honour.

Minister Shacklebolt leaned back in the burgundy leather chair behind the headmistress’ desk, thinking on all he
had just heard. “I think we’d better not spread the Horcrux story any further. Once we agree on the statement,

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I’ll count on you to support it. Unity will be of the utmost importance in this matter.”

“Agreed. Yeah, okay. Of course,” the three teenagers answered at the same time.

“We’re holding a memorial ceremony tonight on the grounds. It’s my wish that you be there,” Kingsley
continued. His countenance impressed upon the three friends that this was less an invitation than an order.
“Lastly, you three,” he said, pointing at Harry, Ron, and Hermione individually, “I’m asking for your help at the
Ministry.”

Before they could protest, Kingsley held up his right hand, palm out, to silence them. Please think about it. We
are in great need of good people. I know you hesitate, and I certainly understand, but I’ll try to make it a better
place. Even though You-Know-Who is gone, there’s loads of work to do to restore everything to order. Again,
please think about it.” With that, Kingsley excused them and they left the office.

“You didn’t tell him about the Hallows,” Hermione whispered.

“Not a chance. I don’t trust anyone but you, Ron, and Ginny with that information,” Harry said determinedly.

When they arrived back in the Great Hall, they found that Mr and Mrs Weasley had returned, as well as Charlie
and Bill. Mr Weasley reported that Percy had been held up at the Ministry and would join them all shortly.

“Harry dear,” Molly said, giving him a big hug, He could tell she had been crying and he could only guess at her
feelings about losing Fred. Her fury when Bellatrix Lestrange almost hit Ginny with a killing curse had been the
kind he never thought a loving mother remotely capable of, despite knowing Molly Weasley’s temperament. She
gave Ron and Hermione each a hug as Arthur greeted them. He was visibly shaken, but Harry could see he did
his best to remain strong for the sake of his family.

Harry felt happier than he had ever dreamed possible. He had a family that loved him, a beautiful loving girl
who was in love with him, and good friends. But still and all, he carried the heavy burden of grief for those lost
in the war. He just couldn’t shake the guilt, although time and time again he’d been told it wasn’t his to carry.
The loss of Tonks, Lupin, Fred, and the others, coupled with the thought of his orphaned Godson, Teddy, and the
pain he felt for the Weasleys pierced his heart like tiny darts. But one look from Ginny warmed Harry to his
core, soothing the pain of the tiny darts stuck in his ragged heart. The knowledge that he was free from
Voldemort and his curse lifted his spirits, if only just a little. They keep telling me it’s not my fault that Fred and
the others were killed, but I just can’t help thinking there was something I could have done differently.

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Something that might have saved them.

“Harry,” Arthur said, placing a firm hand on the young man’s shoulder. “George told us what he said to you and
I couldn’t agree more. If you’re harbouring any guilt about Fred or any of the other dead, I want you to let go of
it and think about all the lives you saved.” Harry turned his messy head to face his surrogate father with a look
of wonder in his eyes.

“You saved us, Harry. Remember, son. If it hadn’t been for you, Ginny would have died under Hogwarts castle in
her first year, I would have died at the Ministry, Ron last year…and who knows if Bill would have survived
Grayback’s attack had Dumbledore’s Army—a force you trained—not been there to join the fight the night
Professor Dumbledore was killed. Thanks to you, Harry, our family made it through this war in far better
condition than many other families. It doesn’t take away the pain of losing our Fred, but it’s the truth
nonetheless.”

Harry collapsed into Arthur’s arms as a son would into his father’s. The two men allowed a few tears to fall as
their grief momentarily overtook them. “Thank you, sir. I’ll try to remember that,” was all Harry could say as he
choked back another round of sobs.

Later that day, a Ministry owl delivered a draft of the statement for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to review and
approve. Kingsley noted that it would be released to the public following the ceremony. Harry insisted that
Ginny read it and offer her input as well.

“The Battle of Hogwarts

Many questions have surrounded the whereabouts and activities of Harry Potter over the past year. Harry Potter,
along with his friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, had, in fact, spent the better part of it fighting
against the dark forces that had made the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named possible. Yesterday, the final
battle against those dark forces took place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Staff and students, mostly members of Dumbledore’s Army led by Neville Longbottom and Ginevra Weasley,
fought brilliantly alongside the Order of the Phoenix, decimating the ranks of the Dark Lord’s Death Eaters in an
effort to bring an end to the terror and tyranny that had spread across our world.

The battle culminated with young Mr Potter facing off in a man-to-man duel against the Dark One himself,
ultimately defeating him by repelling his own killing curse. Total casualties number just over fifty (see attached

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list). A memorial/awards ceremony held at the school honoured those who so bravely gave their lives in the
conflict and those who demonstrated great courage in the face of grave danger.

For utmost courage and upholding the finest values of our magical society, the following awards were presented
at the ceremony:

Order of Merlin, First Class: Harry James Potter, Ronald Bilius Weasley, Hermione Jean Granger, and
posthumously to Severus Tobias Snape (see separate article).

Order of Merlin, Second Class: Neville Frank Longbottom and Ginevra Molly Weasley.

Surviving Death Eaters who have been apprehended will stand trial for their crimes. Arrest warrants have been
issued for those few still at large.

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Interim Minister for Magic”

The casualty list and the article about Professor Snape were indeed attached, and after a thorough read, the
four friends found no complaint with the statement and sent their approval with the owl.

“Blimey! The Order of Merlin,” Ron breathed, awestruck.

“He must’ve worked awfully hard to make that happen this fast,” Hermione said with wide eyes and an equally
awed tone.

“Reading about it…somehow, it doesn’t seem to be about us and what we’d been doing. ‘Upholding the finest
values…’ I’d say we just tried to stay alive and did what was necessary,” Harry rationalised.

Does he have the slightest clue how irresistibly sexy he is when he downplays his heroics? “So hiding in a tent for
a year is what it takes to win the Order of Merlin, First Class? Neville and I actually faced Death Eaters on a daily
basis all year until you lot showed up, but we only get Second Class,” Ginny teased with a mischievous grin.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione laughed. “I expect there’s a political reason behind it,” Harry said.

“Yes, the new Ministry, led by Kingsley Shacklebolt, clearly states that it will have nothing to do with Death
Eaters or the politics of the former administration. Warrants for the Death Eaters’ arrests and honouring us…yes,

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politics are definitely at work here,” Hermione concluded.

“Hmff! That remains to be seen. However, I want to help Kingsley because I believe he’s the man to lead us into
peace,” Harry said. “But I want to steer clear of their damned politics. I’ve had enough Ministry politics to last
me a lifetime!”

The Weasleys gathered for dinner in the Great Hall, along with Harry and Hermione. Once work was finished for
the day, people began to pluck up courage enough to make demands on Harry’s attention. They clamoured for
his account of what he and his friends had been about during the past year and, of course, for his account of the
battle. Harry wasn’t keen to discuss any of it, since it would be published in a release from the Ministry
immediately following the ceremony. Sensing their surrogate brother’s frustration, the Weasley boys stood up
for him so he could be left in peace.

The two eldest Weasley brothers proved more than adequate in that regard. Bill, with his battle scars and
Charlie, rough-looking from his work with dragons, stayed close to Harry and did their best to look menacing
enough to discourage anyone from challenging them. Ginny, of course, stayed close to Harry too. They chose to
keep a low public profile, exchanging warm smiles and subtle expressions of love only they understood when
they thought no one was watching.

For Harry, Ginny had been his lifeline, his every breath during all those lonely nights in the tent. Now, she was
all that and more—a buffer between joy and despair—and with each passing moment, he found himself falling
deeper and deeper in love with her. He had gladly surrendered his heart to her keeping, and it beat only for her.

Ron and Hermione go their share of attention as well, but they managed to avoid most of the questions. Neville
had left Hogwarts for the time being, so as to be spared the onslaught. They supposed he would return for the
ceremony, since Augusta Longbottom would never allow an honour bestowed upon her family to be snubbed.

Whilst Harry and Bill filled their plates with more food, Bill looked over at Harry looking a bit puzzled. “You’re
literally shining, Harry…Ginny too. Are you aware of that?” Bill blinked in amusement at Harry’s blush and
apparent discomfort. “Fear of Ginny’s notorious big brothers is it, then?” Bill chuckled and placed a big hand on
Harry’s shoulder. He leaned in conspiratorially. “Hey, don’t worry, mate. I couldn’t be happier,” he assured the
younger man in a hushed tone.

“Are we that obvious,” Harry asked with a smirk.

“Look, Harry. I’m married to a part-Veela after all. Charlie has definitely picked up on it, but don’t worry about
him. If Ginny’s happy, he’s happy. Now Ron…” Bill paused and let Harry stew for a moment and then continued.
“To be honest, I don’t think it’s quite registered with Mum yet since she’s so emotional about Fred, she’s dead
chuffed about Ron and the rest of you lot winning the various Orders of Merlin, and she’s relieved that no one
else in the family has been lost or injured—and that includes you. Dad’s busy looking out for all of us as the
strong Head of the Family. I doubt anyone’s completely oblivious, but no one’s said anything either…”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Bill cut him off. “Ron has eyes only from Miss Granger, if I’m not
mistaken, so…”

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“Ron knows all about Ginny and me. He and Hermione got together just yesterday.” Harry had always liked Bill.
He was, for lack of a better word, cool.

Bill laughed out loud. “Yesterday? They weren’t busy enough fighting Death Eaters?”

“I guess that’s what it takes. You know Ron…he’s hopeless,” Harry said, chuckling.

“He’ll never hear the end of this. Harry, I want every living detail some time.” Bill patted his shoulder and then
looked at him with raised eyebrows. “If I may ask—when did this thing start with you and Ginny anyway? Don’t
tell me it was yesterday,” Bill asked with mock suspicion.

“Actually, I think I’ve always loved her from the moment I saw her, really…or at least since she opened her eyes
in the Chamber of Secrets.” How could you have been so bloody blind? You’ve missed so much. Potter, you
moronic ponce!

“That’s kind of a weird first date, but it seems to have done the trick,” Bill grinned wider.

Yeah, except I was too busy being a noble prat to really pay any attention to her. “Bill, can I ask you something
—something I’m not comfortable asking Ron or Ginny?”

“Sure…go ahead,” Bill said as he shifted his eyes to the right.

“Uh…right, well. When should we tell Mrs Weasley,” Harry asked and then quickly added, “and Mr Weasley.”

“Hmm…right. Well, knowing my mum, I’d say as soon as possible. Again, I think she suspects, but hasn’t quite
taken it in as yet,” Bill replied.

Only veterans of the battle and their close friends and family had been invited to the memorial ceremony, as per
Kingsley’s orders. News of the ceremony had spread, so a handful of reporters and photographers arrived, along
with a sizeable crowd of gate-crashers who also wanted to celebrate the defeat of Voldemort on the grounds
outside Hogwarts…and perhaps get a glimpse of The Chosen One and his companions.

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Kingsley ascended a quickly-conjured stage with Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Neville in tow. Behind them
followed Professor McGongall and Snape’s coffin, which was levitated by Professor Flitwick and Professors Sprout
and Slughorn as honour guards. Each of the four professors as Heads of House, wore robes of their individual
house colours. They turned and faced the crowd as Flitwick gently set the coffin down on a plinth at the front of
the stage. The remaining members of Dumbledore’s Army, their families, and the families of their fallen
comrades filled the front rows. Their faces were etched with lines betraying the aftershock of battle and loss.

Kingsley raised his arms to silence the crowd. He placed the tip of his wand to his throat and muttered, Sonorus,
as he began to speak. “My friends, yesterday marked the end of the Second Wizarding War. May there never be
a third.” Murmurs of assent wafted through the crowd. “The bottom line is that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was
defeated and killed in a duel with Mr Harry Potter.” A cheer erupted from the crowd as Kingsley paused for
effect. “This past year has been a dark one in our community, but there was one hope that shone through that
darkness: that Harry Potter was The Chosen One.

Many defiant voices spoke of him, quietly uttering prayers of encouragement under cover of night and in the
privacy of their homes, but a few brave young wizards and witches actually stepped up and fought to keep that
hope alive right here on the Hogwarts grounds and inside the castle, under constant threat of cruel punishment
under the Cruciatus curse, severe beatings, exposure, and starvation. Miss Ginevra Weasley and Mr Neville
Longbottom led a paramilitary group known as Dumbeldore’s Army in the struggle for freedom and the lives of
so many of their fellow students.

Miss Weasley is not yet of age, but on several occasions, she did all she could to resist the tyranny of the very
core groups of Death Eaters closest to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who had taken over the school. It is my
pleasure, as a representative of the Wizarding community of Great Britain, to present you, Miss Weasley, with
the Order of Merlin, Second Class for your courage in the face of unspeakable odds.”

A tremendous roar of cheers and applause greeted Ginny as she stepped forward to receive the prestigious
award. Harry, not usually fond of attention, positively beamed as the love of his life bent slightly so Kingsley
could slip the medal over her head. She’s the only award I need. How did I manage to win such a beauty?

Ginny returned to her seat next to Harry, who took her hand and locked her fingers with his. He leaned over
ever so slightly as whispered into her ear. “Merlin, how I love you. You are amazing.” She smiled up at him with
one of those private expressions only he could understand.

“Mr Longbottom led Dumbledore’s Army in a team effort alongside Miss Weasley. He demonstrated enormous
courage and loyalty to our cause when he, at the risk of his own young life, attacked He-Who-Must-Not-
Be-Named, killing his vile snake during yesterday’s battle. For his outstanding leadership and courage in the
face of death, Mr Longbottom also receives the Order of Merlin, Second Class!

The thunderous applause and cheers from the crowd caused Neville Longbottom, the shy and forgetful boy who
was almost a Squib, to blush crimson as he stepped confidently forward to receive it. Still somewhat bashful, he
stole a look over the crowed and found his usually stern grandmother, who now clapped and cried and laughed
for him, her face glowing with pride. Her grandson had finally proven he was every bit the fine wizard his father
had been. Neville returned to his seat next to Ron as the applause dissipated.

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“Today we also remember Severus Snape.” Kingsley paused, again for effect, as the audience mumbled its
dissent. “Headmaster Snape is the only man I have ever known to deceive He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and do
so for a very…long…time. Severus Snape, with his cunning and talents in Legilimency and Occlumency, managed
to maintain his charade before the Dark One, ever remaining loyal to Albus Dumbledore to the end.

For one year following the death of Albus Dumbledore, he worked to undermine the foundation of terror
established by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, primarily within the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry, at the same time, working tirelessly to protect the students in his charge the best he could from the
savage brutality of Amycus and Alecto Carrow and their band of cutthroats.

On the night of the final battle, Severus Snape died while still trying to gather information that would lead to
the downfall of the Dark One. With his last breath, he managed to pass on vital information to Mr Potter that
would aid in his ultimate victory over that evil. To honour the memory of Severus Snape for his brave dedication
to eradicating a terrible evil to our midst, even unto death, he posthumously receives the Order of Merlin, First
Class.”

Silence hung over the stunned assembly as they took in and processed the tale the Minister for Magic wove for
them. Neville shocked them all as he suddenly stood up, wand drawn, and barked, “DA! Salute!” The remnants
of Dumbledore’s Army rose as one, drew their wands with their right hands. They raised them smartly in front of
their faces and then dropped them to their sides in one precision movement as a final farewell to their former
Potions Master, Headmaster, and Guardian.

Polite applause, scanty at first began to ripple through the crowd. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stood and
began to applaud, followed by the crowd. Finally, after so many years of loneliness and misunderstanding,
Severus Snape received the send-off for the bravery and tenacity a hero so richly deserves.

When the assembly quieted once again and the DA had taken their seats, Kingsley continued his address. “For
almost an entire year, we have all wondered: Where is the Chosen One? Except for Mr Potter himself, only two
people knew—Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. These two remarkable teenagers stood
steadfastly by Mr Potter’s side through thick and thin, in a seven-year struggle for victory. Mr Weasley had, on
several occasions, saved his friends’ lives in various close calls and tight spots, and proved himself a fierce
opponent on the field of battle, but more importantly, as a loyal friend. His tactical savvy, honed to razor
sharpness on the chessboard, proved essential to the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I hereby present
Ronald Weasley with the Order of Merlin, First Class.

A very self-conscious Ron rose to accept the award. If they only knew. The crowd demanded a speech, so
Kingsley stepped away from the podium as Ron faced the crowd, blushing as red as his hair. He placed the end
of his wand to his throat and whispered, Sonorus. His deep blue eyes scanned the crowd and rested on the proud
faces of his parents and siblings. “Harry once told me that when someone talks about things, like what we did, it
always sounds so much better than it actually was. I think he’s right. We tried to survive, hiking all over the
country, living rough in a tent. I certainly didn’t think we’d make it, since we had every ruddy…sorry…Death
Eater and Snatcher in Britain tailing us at every turn. We did what we had to do, though, in hopes that we
would somehow get out of it alive and get on with our lives.”

The air exploded with enthusiastic cheers and applause for the ginger-haired hero who was instrumental in the
Chosen One’s defeat of Lord Voldemort. He placed the end of his wand against his throat once again and
whispered Finite. Ron returned to his seat between Neville and a now teary-eyed Hermione, who softly touched
his face and murmured, “Have you any idea how much I love you?” He just looked into her beautiful brown eyes

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and shook his head no ever so slightly, giving her the crooked half-smile that could melt an iceberg.

Kingsley raised his arms once again in order to silence the crowd. “Miss Hermione Granger is described by many
as the most gifted witch of her age. Her cool intellect and clever use of logic became essential to her survival
and that of her friends. Miss Granger has shown courage on the battle lines and he willpower is as strong as her
magic. She has saved her friends’ lives on countless occasions through her phenomenal use of that clever logic
she is so well-known for. She was an influential force behind the organisation and training of Dumbledore’s
Army, the most-disciplined unit that fought in this war. I proudly present Hermione Granger with the Order of
Merlin, First Class for her abounding spirit and outstanding bravery in the face of deprivation and terror.

Hermione had already resolved herself to the fact that she would be required to speak to the assembly. Ron
raised her hand and brushed his lips across it as she rose and stepped toward the podium. Sonorus, she
muttered as she advanced, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I can only wish that this war marks the end
of the prejudices of blood purity, so that we may have a world where it’s what one knows and does with
knowledge that matters, and not who one’s parents are. If that’s what this war finally teaches, then as a
Muggleborn, I can say that it was all worth it and hope that one day, I can take pride in my part in it. One day,
when we have mourned those who are no long with us.”

As a tear began to fall, she turned away from the crowd, whispered Finite, and took her seat between Ron and
Ginny. Ron slipped his arm behind her, looked into her moist eyes and whispered, “Have you any idea how much
I love you?” She gave him an almost inaudible giggle and stared into his bright blue eyes, slightly raising one
eyebrow. Ron read that look and arranged his face into an expression that could only be described as
pleasure-pain. He hoped no one else noticed.

Kingsley stepped forward again and the crowd fell silent. The air crackled with anticipation as he again began to
speak. “Much can be said about our last honoured guest. This remarkable young man has faced the deepest
depths of evil in the forms of dark magic and wizardkind alike. He has endured the loss of his parents and
suffered under the vile neglect of those charged with his care in childhood. But still—the power of love ruled
over any anger or resentment he may have harboured. That abiding power with which he is so richly imbued
allowed him to secure victory over that evil for himself, yet he prefers to bestow the credit on his dedicated and
loyal friends.” Kingsley gestured to those on the dais as well as those among Dumbledore’s Army.

“He has been known by many names, most notably among them: The-Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, and the
Famous Harry Potter, but to his friends and family, he’s just Harry.” The crowd went wild before Kingsley could
present Harry with his award. He was just barely able to settle the crowd so he could continue. “It’s my great
honour and privilege to present the Order of Merlin, First Class to Mr Harry Potter!” The crowd erupted again as
a very nervous Harry stepped forward. Kingsley placed the medal around Harry’s neck and shook his hand
firmly. He relinquished the podium to allow Harry to address the onlookers.

The crowd went instantly silent as their Man of the Hour drew his holly and phoenix-feather wand, placed it
against his throat and whispered, Sonorus. “Ron, Hermione, and I set out on a mission, on Dumbledore’s orders,
last year. You see, no wizard knew more about Voldemort than Professor Dumbledore.” There was a whisper in
the crowd when Harry said the name without hesitation or fear.

“This victory is Professor Dumbledore’s. Many years ago, he visited an orphanage, where a boy named Tom
Riddle lived, to invite him to Hogwarts. Tom’s mother was a witch and his father was a Muggle. This boy became
Lord Voldemort. It was thanks to Professor Dumbledore’s knowledge of Tom Riddle that we were able to defeat

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him. Yes, we. No one of us could have completed this task on our own.

I stand here like this—today—maybe because I have some skill at dueling, certainly because of my friends who
are here with me, but mainly because of those who are not here. I want you all to know that without the love of
my parents, James and Lily Potter, the wisdom of my Godfather, Sirius Black, the spirit of a dear house-elf called
Dobby, the abiding friendship of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, the brave toughness of Professor Snape,
and the tutelage of Professor Dumbledore, I would have died.

Many of you may also feel as though you owe your life to someone who died as a result of this war. I felt bad
about it at first, until my friend, George Weasley, having lost his twin brother, Fred, yesterday, reminded me
this morning that the killing was Voldemort’s doing—we just put an end to it. If what we won here yesterday is
less fear and more love for our world, then I could feel good about it, even though the cost weighs heavy on our
hearts now. Like you, I mourn, but I like to think that those who died would rather we go on living instead of
wallowing in guilt and remorse. Let the fear of Voldemort and his name die with him.”

With that, Harry placed the end of his wand against his throat and whispered Finite. He then conjured a single
lily and placed it reverently on Snape’s coffin. “You truly were the bravest man I ever knew. Rest in peace, my
friend. Well done,” Harry whispered almost silently, and then turned away as his eyes burned with tears.

“Good speech,” Kingsley whispered to him. Harry only nodded briefly as he passed. He returned to Ginny’s side
before a deafening cacophony of applause and cheers. Ginny slipped her hand into his and gave it a reassuring
squeeze. She didn’t have to utter a single word. Her eyes said it all.

Kingsley thanked the crowd for attending and dismissed them. Reporters crowded around Harry, hoping to get a
story. “Mr Potter, how did you defend yourself against the killing curse?”

“The same way I did when I was a baby,” was all Harry would tell them as he led Ginny into the circle of ginger
Weasleys, who stood around him with their arms folded defiantly across their chests. They glared at the jostling
pack of photographers and journalists, defending their raven-haired “brother” against the media assault. Even
Percy cut a somewhat menacing figure as he held fast alongside his larger, and certainly more intimidating,
father and brothers. Keeping Harry and their little sister safely in their midst, the Weasleys made their way
toward the gates. Once outside the Hogwarts grounds, they all turned as one and Apparated home to the
Burrow.

Once the Weasley assemblage arrived at the Burrow, Molly set to making tea and sandwiches for supper. They
day’s events had worn them all out, and escaping the media blitz following the ceremony had their nerves on
edge. No one felt particularly up for a huge meal. There was only scant conversation around the table, mostly

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about the speeches (Harry related how he thought Kingsley had laid it on rather thick), but the group seated
there seemed more interested in their teacups than anything else. The two young couples, though, still found
enough energy to raise their weary heads and gaze into each other’s eyes, exchanging private expressions that
reaffirmed their love for one another.

”Time for bed, dears,” Mrs Weasley announced, as she assigned her extended family to sleeping quarters. ”And
finally, Hermione, you’ll sleep in Ginny’s room and Harry, you’ll bunk with Ron. Off you go, now,” she ordered,
as she shepherded them all up the stairs. The couples parted at Ginny’s bedroom door with soft kisses and warm
embraces. ”G’night,” was all they could muster as the girls disappeared behind the door and the boys dragged
themselves up to the next landing to Ron’s room. Soon, the house laid peaceful and still, the silence broken only
by the occasional squeak of bedsprings as someone rolled over in glorious, dreamless sleep.

Harry had just awakened as bright sunlight stole through the window and assaulted his sleep-laden eyes. At
first, he wasn’t sure where he was. He had only just realised when Errol, the ancient Weasley family owl,
suddenly crashed through the window on Ron’s side of the room with the Daily Prophet in his talons, landing
roughly on Ron’s stomach in a flurry of down and feathers. The bird lay exhausted and gasping for breath with
his feet in the air as Ron moved the heaving mass of wings and beak onto the bed beside him.

"Ahhrrgh.......ugh! Ruddy hopeless, sorry excuse for a bird," Ron grumbled, quite put out at such a rude
awakening from what had been an otherwise restful night’s repose. Without a glance toward the shattered
window, he waved his wand in the general direction and muttered, Reparo. The shards of glass littering the floor
and the beds flew safely back into the frame, leaving no evidence that the window had ever been broken. Harry
looked on amused. He was about to say something to Ron about Errol when the door burst open with a bang.

Ginny and Hermione, having been awake for about an hour already, heard the crash. The two girls nearly
jumped out of their skins in alarm, grabbed their wands, threw open the bedroom door and sprinted up the few
stairs to the boys’ room. They burst through the door, wands drawn, hair flying, and faces pale, ready to blast
the intruder to oblivion.

”Hermione! Ginny! What’s the matter with you two,” Harry exclaimed.

”We heard a crash and...we thought...we thought,” Ginny stammered, heart pounding, her breaths coming in
gasps.

”You thought we were under attack,” smirked Ron, ”in broad daylight...first thing in the morning.”

Now Harry began to snicker as Hermione’s eyes narrowed.

”What’s so funny,” a winded Hermione demanded, ready to launch into one of her infamous tirades.

”Imagine. You running to save us,” mused Harry with a glint in his eye. ”How romantic,” he laughed. Then Ron
joined him in raucous laughter. The girls were not amused.

”Then what the hell was that noise,” Ginny asked, trying not to laugh herself. She didn’t appreciate being made
fun of, but at the same time she rather enjoyed Harry’s infectious laughter. I just can’t stay angry with him,
especially now, since he hasn’t laughed—really laughed—in such a long time.

”Errol,” Harry answered.

”Oh. Enough said,” Ginny sighed as she made her way toward Harry’s bed.

”Aw c’mon, ’Mione,” begged Ron. ”Don’t be like that. I was just having a little fun with you. C’mon, Love. Give us
a break.” He held out his arms to Hermione, flashing those baby blues and the patented half-smile that melted
her anger away. She walked across the room, her own chocolate brown eyes never leaving his, and crawled onto
his lap and into his arms.

”I don’t know why I put up with you, Ronald Weasley,” she sighed as he placed a kiss on her still-furrowed
brow.

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”Because you can’t help yourself?” He chuckled as he tightened his embrace.

Hermione smiled to herself as she laid her head on his broad chest. He drives me mad, but I just can’t resist that
Weasley charm.

On the other side of the room, Ginny had already sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed. She no sooner than
touched his hand, when he pulled her down across his chest and buried his face in her flaming red tresses,
wrapping her in his strong arms. She let out a squeal of surprise and delight.

”G’morning, my beauty,” he whispered huskily, breathing in her signature scent of wildflowers and strawberries.
”I missed you,” he mumbled into her neck as he ran his fingers through her thick hair.

”Mmm. Morning, my love,” she murmured as she began to kiss up his neck toward the side of his mouth, which
drove him wild. ”I missed you too.” Harry realized that something else had woken up as well. Merlin, what she
does to me!

Just then, Errol began to stir. It looked as though it took a Herculean effort for the battered old owl to right
himself enough to take flight and escape the confines of Ron’s room so as to find sustenance in the Burrow’s
kitchen. This interrupted a healthy snog between Ron and Hermione, drawing their attention toward Harry’s side
of the room, just inside the door.

”Oi! A little dignity, all right,” Ron called across the room to his sister and his best friend.

Harry and Ginny had forgotten they were not the only people in the room, so lost were they in the own blissful
snog. Blushing, they disengaged themselves from each other and glared over at Ron, who had opened up the
newspaper. Hermione took pains to smooth it out so they could read it.

"Look," Hermione shouted, pointing at a line in an article. "It says here that Ginny is the youngest witch in
history to receive the Order of Merlin."

Harry draped an arm across Ginny’s shoulders and declared, ”That’s my little warrior!” Ginny snuggled in closer,
letting out a sound something like a cross between a giggle and a sigh.

Then Hermione smiled almost triumphantly. "Harry, it looks like your having mentioned Dobby in your speech
started a debate about house elves."

"Imagine that," he replied rolling his eyes and grinning sarcastically. ”He saved our lives, you know.”

That morning’s Daily Prophet turned out to be a special edition, since the entire issue had been dedicated almost
exclusively to the Battle of Hogwarts, as it was to be called now, the memorial/awards ceremony, and the
recipients of those awards, including a small section devoted entirely to Severus Snape. One entire spread was
dedicated to Harry, with commentary containing speculation as to how Harry had managed to survive the killing
curse yet again...accompanied by the perfunctory photographs. The four friends took turns reading aloud, each
to the others. As the paper passed to Ron for the third time, his countenance took on a dark demeanor and his
face turned a deep crimson.

”What,” Hermione asked.

”Look further down on the page,” Ron said in a lower-than-usual voice. He pointed to the article he was about to
launch into and looked sadly at Harry. ”Sorry mate, it's just too much. I honestly don't know if I should laugh or
cry...or send the writer a howler, or better yet, a dungbomb. Probably the dungbomb.”

”G’on, mate. Read it. I can take it,” Harry said, steeling himself for the worst. Bloody hell!

Ron read:

”Harry Potter's Girls


Over the years, there have been numerous reports regarding Harry Potter's love life. During his fourth year at
Hogwarts, Miss Hermione Granger had been his love interest, as revealed by my esteemed colleague, Rita
Skeeter.”

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”Oh for the love of...” Harry started, knowing already where this was going. He heard Hermione sigh heavily, so
he decided to let it go. They’d heard all of this before. Will they ever quit with this rubbish?

”Go on,” Harry sighed.

”The details are shady, though, as Miss Granger dated the famous Bulgarian seeker, Viktor Krum, who escorted
her to the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament held at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that
year. Miss Parvati Patil turned up on Mr Potter's arm that evening; however, there is no indication that there had
been any romance between the two of them. Interestingly, Harry had been observed sitting down most of the
night, presumably in protest, very likely over Miss Granger, dancing with Miss Patil only when tradition
demanded, meaning the first dance. We suspect there had been a quarrel between Mr Potter and Miss Granger
that must have been resolved soon after, as the two of them seemed to have made up and continued their
relationship.”
Sniff.

Ron stopped reading. He snapped his ginger head to Hermione, who sat cross-legged on his bed, handkerchief
in hand, dabbing at tears that threatened to escape down her cheeks. ”’Mione, what is it? What’s...oh.” Damn!
He reached over and put his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him and giving her a reassuring squeeze.
I was afraid of this. ”For what it’s worth, Hermione,” Harry said soothingly, ”there was a protest going on that
night, but it wasn’t me doing the protesting.”

Ginny cast a sidelong glance at her boyfriend. ”What do you mean?” she asked.

”What Harry means is that I was the one protesting, Ginny,” Ron admitted. ”I had been an insufferable prat
because I didn’t ask Hermione to the ball myself when I had the chance. By the time I realised she was even a
girl...Krum had beaten me to the punch. I wanted to shrivel up and die when I—when Krum...”

”Ron, don’t. It’s not important,” Hermione sobbed. He doesn’t need to keep beating himself up over this.

”It is important, ’Mione. I was horrible to you, accusing you of fraternizing with the enemy. I was so stupid.” Ron
pulled her in even closer and put his other arm around her, nuzzling her. I swear, I will spend the rest of my life
making that up to her.

”Uh, excuse me, but since when do we sit around blubbering like leaky hosepipes over anything written in the
sodding Prophet, anyway,” Ginny said resolutely. ”You’re right, Hermione. It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s just a
load of rubbish!” Have these people nothing better or more important to write than gossip?

”I know. Thanks,” Hermione sniffed. A few moments later, she managed to pull herself together. ”Is...is there
more, Ron?”

He nodded and read on, still holding her protectively to his side.

”The following year, Mr Potter was seen dating Miss Cho Chang, a girl who shares Mr Potter's passion for
Quidditch, and who also became a member of Dumbledore's Army. It is reasonable to believe that the beautiful
Miss Chang snared Mr Potter's heart, leading to the end of his relationship with Miss Granger.

”Merlin’s pants! Where do they get this rot,” Harry exclaimed as he threw himself onto his back and drew his
hand down over his face.

”Harry, shut it. We know it’s all rubbish, Love,” Ginny teased. ”What did we just say to Hermione?”

”Shut me up,” Harry replied with a wicked smile.

”Can we just get on with this,” Hermione snapped.

”Later, Love,” Ginny whispered conspiratorially.

Ron cleared his throat and continued:


Miss Chang won Mr Potter's affections and started a relationship with him. Exactly when and why Mr Potter and
Miss Chang broke up we do not know.

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During Mr Potter's sixth year at Hogwarts, two girls are known to have been romantically involved with him. Miss
Luna Lovegood did, according to a reliable source, go on at least one date with Mr Potter, but since we have no
further details, we can only assume that they had kept their relationship a secret.”

”Poor Luna,” Ginny sighed, shaking her head slowly.

Ron paused only long enough to acknowledge his sister’s comment.

”The other girl with whom Mr Potter has had a relationship is Miss Ginny Weasley. A fellow student at Hogwarts
states the couple were officially together and dating.

Following his return from his heroic mission, Harry Potter has been unavailable for comment and his exact
whereabouts are unknown. It is uncertain whether any of these girls are in a relationship with Mr Potter at this
time, although he was last seen with the Weasley family only yesterday at a memorial/awards ceremony at
Hogwarts. If there is anything we can report with any amount of certainty, it is that there are many young
witches whose hearts hope that Mr Potter is still on the market, as he has been voted the Most Desirable Wizard
In the Country, according to Witch Weekly.”

Ron smirked painfully and tried desperately to hold back the juggernaut of mirth that began in his belly and
began to move into his chest. His body shook with suppressed laughter as his face changed from pale to pink to
rose to crimson.

Harry looked tired. ”Ron, I can understand the urge to laugh. This is totally insane.”

Ron couldn’t stifle it any longer. He let go and soon the others joined in, holding their sides and falling all over
each other. Except Ginny. She didn’t find the gossip funny at all, especially where Harry and her family and
friends were concerned.

”Insane? Insane, he says,” Ginny cried angrily. ”And the best you can come up with is a dungbomb? Give me
five minutes with this arse of a reporter and St Mungo's will have five years work to do.” Ginny huffed and
folded her arms defiantly across her chest. The laughter died down as Harry reached over to stroke her hair in
an attempt to calm her. She’s drop-dead gorgeous when she’s angry.

”And get yourself five years in Azkaban? Harry, don’t hate me for saying this,” Hermione said, ”but you’re
obviously considered the greatest hero on this planet. Every reporter like this one, most likely a member of Rita
Skeeter's fan club, will probably indulge themselves in this kind of ’rot,’ as you put it. And that goes for all of
us...and Neville too. Oh look! Here's a nice piece about me, wondering how I’ll handle my desire for famous
wizards after becoming one of the most famous witches in the country, myself.

Harry looked around at his friends and asked, ”Should I just tell the Prophet I'm with Ginny?”
Ginny looked at him thoughtfully. ”Well...it will put an end to speculation about who your girlfriend is, but if
you’re seen alone with Hermione, or any other girl, they’ll accuse you of cheating on me.”

Ron and Harry glanced at one another, shaking their heads. ”Damned if you do and damned if you don’t, mate,”
Ron said as he puffed his cheeks and blew out a long puff of air.

”She's right, you know. I read some of these Potter-Krum articles about me,” Hermione agreed. ”Some of them
claimed I was Harry's girlfriend cheating with Krum, while others reported it the other way round. Oh, and let’s
not forget those who claimed that I was a Muggleborn nobody who tried to snare famous wizards. It's crazy out
there, Harry.”

”You’re not a nobody, ’Mione. If I ever hear anyone call you that, I’ll—”

”Thank you, Ronald. You’re very sweet,” she interjected, as she crawled behind him a draped her arms over his
shoulders, giving him a piggy-back hug.

”So what do we do? I don't want any of you to be treated like this by the press. Certainly not Luna or Cho
either. Parvati is actually the only one they got right, more or less...and Ginny.” Harry said.

”Too right! If you ask me, I say we ought to tell Mum and Dad right away. It’s better they hear about us from us,

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rather than have them come at us in a right state after reading this drivel,” Ginny said. ”Then, dear brother, I’ll
take great pleasure helping you with that dungbomb,” she hissed with an evil grin.

”You’re on, Gin-Gin,” Ron smiled impishly. Harry and Hermione opted to just let it go.

A/N This story aims at following JKR canon. A couple of readers have complained about not awarding Luna, as
she led the DA with Ginny and Neville. True, she did, during the first term. It was later on things turned really
ugly. In this story Ginny is the one leading the DA until she leaves at Easter break. Nevilel carries on and also
attacks the Dark Tosser himself, killing Nagini. Remember that the Order of Merlin is a highly prestigious award
and not everyone who takes part in heroic actions are awarded. I decided that Luna's part, heroic as it is, isn't
enough for the Order of Merlin. This is not meant to diminish what she did.

My thanks goes to siledubhghlase, beta and editor of this story.

I appreciate comments and thoughts in a review.

Chapter 2: Love and gossip


[View Online] [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Chapter 2 – Love and Gossip

Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy and George had to leave early for work. They would be gone a few days, and then
return for Fred's funeral. Bill would have a lot to do at Gringotts as customers returned to see how or even if
their accounts survived the war. Charlie accepted temporary work with the Department for the Regulation and
Control of Magical Creatures, while Percy found himself inundated with a heavy workload stemming from the
chaos following the fall of Tom Riddle’s regime. George wanted to keep busy and decided to check out the joke
shop, or what was left of it after the war.

Molly had made a delicious breakfast for the ones still at the Burrow. Arthur and Molly looked up as Harry, Ron,
Hermione and Ginny descended the stairs into the kitchen. ”Good morning, dears,” Molly said. ”Would you like a
cup of tea?”

”Yes, please,” they replied.

”A cup would be nice, Molly,” Arthur said.

Soon, everyone had been served and Molly took her place at the table. Arthur noticed Ron held the Daily
Prophet, and appeared to be crushing it in his considerable fist.

”Ah, I see Errol delivered the Prophet to your room this morning? I don't understand that owl. May I have it
Ron,” Arthur asked, tugging at the paper still clenched in his son’s fist.

Harry and Ginny looked at each other, Hermione bit her lower lip, and Ron balked as he looked nervously at his
father.

”Mr and Mrs Weasley, we—we'd like to tell you something first,” Harry said, feeling more nervous than he did
facing Riddle.

”Yes dear,” Molly said with a warm smile.

Harry felt uncertain as to how to go about telling them, what with the shock of Fred having been killed only two
days ago coupled with the joy of the victory, raw emotions stirred the already tense air. ”I... I'm in love...with
Ginny,” he stammered. Molly looked at them and a bright smile began to steal across her worried features.

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Ginny took hold of Harry’s exposed hand. ”And I love Harry.” She said it confidently, but quickly, as if hoping to
stave off an explosion.

No explosion came. Instead, Molly took their clasped hands in hers and said just above a whisper, “I was hoping
that’s what I saw."

"We’ve noticed the stolen glances and dreamy eyes, the whispers, the chaste kisses, and the handholding these
last couple of days at Hogwarts as well as here at the Burrow since last night. We don’t miss as much as you
think we do,” Arthur said with a wink and a nod.

”Actually, Harry and I were together last year before he left for his mission with Ron and Hermione,” Ginny said.
”I guess we want you to know that we are serious about this. Harry is officially my boyfriend,” Ginny declared.

Molly had a moment when she seemed to have a hard time accepting the fact that her daughter had a boyfriend.
Then she started to cry. For a second, Harry feared she didn't approve after all.

”Ginny... Harry... I'm so happy to hear this...” Molly said through her tears.

”Congratulations,” Arthur said.

”We wanted to tell you, but the Prophet forced our hand before we could give what we wanted to say too much
thought,” Harry said.

”Exactly. Some witch I'd like to curse in a very nasty way wrote a horrid piece full of lies about Harry's love life,”
Ginny said as Ron handed the paper over to their parents and pointed out the offending article. ”We wanted to
tell you ourselves rather than have you read it from that,” Ginny spat as she slapped it with her fingertips.
Arthur and Molly bent their own red heads together to read the article.

”Most of it isn't true,” Ron said. ”Hermione and Luna are Harry's friends, although...” Ron paused,” you did go on
one disastrous date with Cho, Harry...”

”Ron, please,” Harry said. ”You don't have to defend me. But I ask again: Should I let the press write whatever
they want about me or should I tell them outright that Ginny and I are together? They all turned to Molly and
Arthur for guidance, since they were all at a loss for ideas.

”Oh dear,” Molly said compassionately. "I keep forgetting you four are probably the most famous witches and
wizards in the country.”

”I don't want any fame or glory. I never wanted any of it,” Harry said. ”I just want to get on with my life.” Harry
stared into his teacup, his left hand shielding his eyes.

”I honestly don't think any of you can avoid it,” Arthur said resolutely. ”You are considered heroes and saviours
of our world. At this point, all you can do is just deal with it the best you can. Of course, you have our full
support, and I’m sure I can speak for the rest when I say the family is behind you and we’ll do all we can to
help. Furthermore, I want both of you to know, Harry and Hermione, that you are welcome to stay here as long
as you wish. As far as the Weasleys are concerned, you are as much members of this family as Ron and Ginny,”
Arthur told them as he looked the two friends straight in the eye.

”Thanks, Mr and Mrs Weasley. That means a lot to me,” Harry said softly as he felt the sting of tears welling up
in his emerald green eyes.

”Yes, thank you,” choked Hermione, stifling yet another sob as she pushed Ron with her shoulder, clearly
encouraging him to tell his parents about their relationship as well, especially since his father had just all but
adopted her into the family.

”Mum...Dad,” Ron said with a tremble in his voice. "I...that is, we...want to tell you something too.”

”What,” Mrs Weasley asked, looking sharply at him.

”I want to tell you that...Hermione wants to give you another piece of news.”

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Harry could hardly contain himself from laughing hysterically when he saw the murderous look on Hermione’s
face. Heart of a lion, this one.

”Well, Ronald, let me just spell it all out then,” Hermione ground through clenched teeth. She turned to Mr and
Mrs Weasley, squared her shoulders and said simply, "Ron is my boyfriend.”

Silence. Oh no! What have I done? Tears began to well up in her eyes and her heart fell into her stomach.

”Why in the name of Merlin's most outrageous underwear did you need Hermione to tell us that,” Molly asked
her blushing youngest son.

”You’re not angry,” Ron asked, eyes wide and hopeful..

”Angry,” Mrs Weasley yelled. ”Why would we be angry?”

”I...I dunno, Mum. I was just afraid...” Ron didn’t quite know what to say at that point. He was just so relieved
that his parents approved of his and Hermione’s relationship. Hermione lightly dropped her forehead onto his
shoulder and shook it in frustration.

Harry and Ginny just stared at each other, snickering and shaking their own heads in awe of Ron’s clumsy
awkwardness. Harry had since slipped his arm around her waist. ”Unbe-freakin-lievable,” Ginny laughed into
Harry’s shoulder, her tone low enough for only him to hear.

”I guess congratulations are in order for you two too, then,” Mr Weasley beamed.

”So...just when did this happen,” Molly asked Ron, who was still blushing. ”Those other lovebirds apparently got
together last year. What do you have to say for yourselves?”

”It was Hermione's fault,” Ron said.

That did it. Harry and Ginny fell all over each other in gales of unbridled laughter. Hermione slid her forehead
from Ron’s shoulder onto the table, her arms dangling at her sides, while she shook herself limp from laughing
so hard. Mr and Mrs Weasley literally howled. Ron, at first, couldn’t understand what was so funny, but then he
realized what he’d said and began to laugh too.

Ron pulled himself together while the others worked to catch their collective breath. ”It was during the battle. I
said something about not forcing House-elves to fight for us and the next thing I knew, Hermione kissed me. But
I've wanted to kiss her for years,” Ron said earnestly.

Tears formed once again in Molly Weasley’s eyes as she took one of Hermione’s hands in one of her own and
then turning to Harry, took one of his into her other. ”Hermione...Harry. I...you...bloody hell!” She drew her
surrogate son and daughter into one of her famous bone-crushing hugs as tears of joy spilled down her
care-worn face. After several moments, she released them.
”Ginny, I'm so happy for you and Harry,” she said, and then turned to Ron. ”And you should be happy, because
Hermione must be completely in love with you.” More laughter rang through the Burrow. In the midst of the
mirth, Mr Weasley swept his eyes around the table as his lovely wife, Molly, and his youngest son and daughter
together with their sweethearts chatted away seemingly without a care in the world. Life is good. Life is GOOD!

As they finished breakfast, another owl arrived with a letter for Harry from Kingsley, asking for his own account
of the events in the forest the night of the final battle, and how he managed to survive the killing curse for a
second time. Kingsley also offered an official Ministry apology on behalf of the newspaper. He had been less than
thrilled with the Prophet’s article about Harry’s private life, and suggested that perhaps the four of them might
put their heads together and compose an official statement in hopes that the thing could be laid to rest once and
for all. So, with Hermione as scribe, the four friends sequestered themselves in Ron’s room and hammered out a
statement to send back with Kingsley’s owl for release the next day.
"I realise the Wizarding world wants answers about the events leading up to the death of Tom Marvolo Riddle,

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alias ‘Lord Voldemort’ or ‘The Dark Lord,’ and you deserve at least that. The truth is that my mother, Lily Potter,
sacrificed her life to save mine all those years ago. Circumstance and ancient magic created a protection that
destroyed Tom Riddle without killing him outright. Upon capturing the Triwizard Cup at the end of the third task
of the Triwizard Tournament three years ago, Cedric Diggory and I were transported to a graveyard where
Voldemort would rise again as a result of a hideous ritual spell he created to regenerate his body. Unfortunately,
Cedric was murdered that night for no other reason than he happened to be there.”

”Harry, are you sure you want to include Cedric in this,” Hermione asked doubtfully. ”I mean, what does Cedric’s
death have to do with anything?”

”Hermione, Cedric Diggory is as much a casualty of this war as any of the others,” Harry shot back. ”And what’s
more, he wouldn’t even have been there if I hadn’t insisted we take the Cup together. He didn’t have to die...”
Harry began to shake as the memory of that awful night in Little Hangleton flooded his memory.

Ginny could sense the turmoil rising in her boyfriend’s very soul. She took him in her arms and caressed his
back. ”It’s not your fault, Harry. You didn’t kill Cedric; Wormtail did under orders from Voldemort. How could you
have known that the Triwizard Cup was a Portkey? Nobody knew that—not even Dumbledore.” She gently
reasoned with Harry, still passing her hand up and down his back, speaking softly, reminding him to let go of his
guilt.

”She’s right, mate,” Ron agreed. ”You did what you had to do. We all did.”

Harry wiped a few rogue tears away, turned to stare deeply into Ginny’s eyes, and began to relax. I could drown
in those eyes and die a happy man. I know I could never have survived all of that without the very thought of
loving her to hold on to.

Ron and Hermione looked on in wonder. For the life of them, they couldn’t fathom how Ginny had so easily
calmed one of Harry’s emotional storms so readily, when it had often taken hours for them to do the same thing.

”All right, then,” Harry announced, clapping his hands together, "let’s crack on, yeah?” The others nodded in
agreement. Harry asked Hermione to read back what she had written in order to get his bearings so they could,
in fact, crack on. ”Right, then,” he said and resumed dictation.

”Part of that spell included the forceful taking of my blood in order to take my mother’s protection onto himself.
As a result of this horrible ritual, Riddle made himself vulnerable to the very thing he perceived as protection.
When he fired the killing curse at me, that element that my mother had placed into the blood that now flowed
through his own veins caused that curse to backfire and finish him instead of me.
As for the whereabouts and the activities of my friends and me for all those months, I will tell you this: We set
out on a dangerous mission under orders of Albus Dumbledore to tell no one—not even our families—what we
were doing. It was a matter of trust and security necessary to ensure our success and that we might bring about
the destruction of Lord Voldemort’s terror and his ultimate and permanent demise.”

Harry suddenly felt compelled to look over at Ginny. Silent tears streamed down her face, for she knew about
that mission. Harry had told her only two days before what that mission was all about and she truly appreciated
the precarious position her boyfriend, brother, and best friend had been placed in. But to hear Harry tell that
tale this way drove home just how lucky they all were to be alive and how truly thankful she was to whichever
higher powers allowed him to return to her.

”Ginny, baby, what’s wrong,” Harry asked as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

”Oh...well... I...I was just thinking about how horrible it must have been for you, constantly on the run, cold and
hungry, scared...and...and all...alone like that.” Her voice trembled as she spoke. She remembered how lonely
and afraid she, herself, had been all that time, not knowing whether they were alive or dead. She threw herself
into Harry’s arms and began to cry in earnest. ”Have you any idea how frightened we were for you? Day after
day without any word as to where you lot were or if you were even alive, praying to any god who would listen to
please let you come home to us in one piece! I’m just so...so... Oh Harry, I was so lonely without you. I almost
couldn’t breathe! I’m so grateful you came home to me alive and still wanting to be with me!”

Hermione crawled into Ron’s lap as tears of sympathy for Ginny flowed down her face, soaking Ron’s tee-shirt.
He pulled her in closer, pressing soft kisses to the top of her bushy head.

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”I know, Gin, and I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that for me...for us,” Harry murmured into her hair.
He held her as close to himself as humanly possible while her body shook with sobs. ”I never meant for you to
suffer. Please believe me. But we weren’t exactly alone. We had each other to lean on.”

”Yeah, Gin-Gin. It was no picnic, but it could have been worse. Hermione, here, thought of everything we might
need to make that situation bearable,” Ron told his sister. And this brilliant beautiful witch is mine. Weasley, you
may be a git, but you’re a lucky git.

”Oh, look at me, will you,” she said suddenly. “Weeping like a leaky hosepipe!” She made to wipe her face and
blow her nose with her own handkerchief.

”We did our share of that, too, Ginny,” smiled Hermione. ”I can’t tell you how many rivers we cried, whether we
cried together or in secret. There no shame in tears,” she said.

”I’m sorry I went off on such a soggy tangent. Let’s just finish this, shall we,” Ginny said.

”You’re sure you’re all right,” Harry asked.

”Yes, Love, I’m fine,” Ginny assured him as she took his hand and twined her fingers with his. Her eyes still
glistened with unshed tears, but she beamed up at Harry anyway. I love you so much, Harry Potter.

Hermione again read back what they’d already written so Harry could gather his thoughts once again and
continue. ”Ah, yes. The private life thing,” he said rolling his eyes.
There has been an inordinate amount of speculation regarding events in my private life, both past and present. I
humbly ask the Wizarding world, especially the media, to respect my privacy and leave off further rumor
mongering. Most of that speculation seems to concern my love life, involving a few friends of mine and the
careless bandying about of their names. I will say this one time only, with the hopes that there will be no more of
it. I ask that the media please respect their privacy as well as my own. The absolute truth as to my relationship
with the witches whose names appeared in this morning’s issue of the Daily Prophet is as follows:
Hermione Granger is like a sister to me, and I think that says it all. I love her dearly, but there never has been,
nor will there ever be any romance between us.
Parvati Patil is a friend and fellow Gryffindor in my year. While it is true that she attended the Yule Ball with me,
she did so as a friend and nothing more.
Cho Chang and I had a mutual crush on one another for a time. We did date and were briefly romantically
involved, but nothing ever came of it. Cho remains a loyal friend who proved her honour when Dumbledore’s
Army called its own to battle. She readily responded and fought furiously alongside our comrades.
Luna Lovegood is one of my closest friends and, as such, she kindly agreed to be my date for one of Professor
Slughorn's parties, since a date for the evening was required. There never has been, nor will there ever be any
romance between Luna and me.
Ginny Weasley is my cherished one, and I love her more than life itself. I ask the Wizarding world to please
respect our wishes and allow us to live in peace. If and anything develops in our relationship that we might wish
to make public, we shall do so. Until then, please allow us, our families, and our friends our well-earned and
much-appreciated privacy.
Harry J. Potter, OMFC

”By Merlin's beard, I could do without the fame.” Harry said. “I think it’s only right, though, that I should send
Patronuses to Parvati, Luna, and Cho...” The other's looked at him, raising their eyebrows in question. ”What? I
wouldn't publish this without letting them know in advance what I’ve written,” he said.
Harry drew his wand and gazed lovingly over Ginny’s angelic face. He could think of no better way to fill his
mind with happiness to produce his Patronus. Whether he actually thought Expecto Patronum or only thought of
producing his Patronus, just looking at Ginny brought the great stag bounding forth from his wand. Then he
leaned in and gave Ginny a tender kiss.

”Harry!” Hermione shouted, her eyes filled with excitement, ”did you do that non-verbally?”

”I don't know, I guess so. All I really know is that I looked at Ginny and the Patronus appeared. I’ve done
non-verbal magic loads of times. What’s the big deal,” he asked.

”A Patronus is very advanced magic, Harry. I'm not sure even Professor Dumbledore was able to that one
non-verbally,” Hermione said.

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”I guess I really hadn’t thought about it. I just felt so natural, as though I’d been doing it all my life,” Harry
admitted. ”Look, let me just get this message off to Parvati, Cho, and Luna,” Harry said and sent off a Patronus
asking them to approve it or make whatever changes they deemed necessary.

He then asked them for their approval to publish it. Within an hour, Luna and Parvati had approved his
statement, and by noon an owl delivered a note from Cho.

”Harry,
Thank you for standing up for us in your statement to the media. My parents had become very angry with me
when they read the lies about us in the Prophet. It seems they always believed in you...well, sending your
Patronus did half the job...and they are now actually proud of me. They’re proud because I'd been fighting for
freedom, but also because 'their daughter’ actually dated ’this country's most famous wizard.' (it was
embarrassing to hear them say that). I really appreciate the way you stood up for not only your closest friends,
like Hermione and Luna, but also for me and Parvati. I'm really happy for you and Ginny. Anyone who’s ever
seen the two of you together knows that you’re truly meant for each other.
Cho Chang”

Later that afternoon, the Weasley clan had once again assembled around the family table. Arthur had called the
meeting in order to allow Ginny to present Harry to the family as they had made their relationship official.

”Dear brothers,” Ginny said, ”I want to introduce Harry Potter. Harry, these are my brothers, Bill, that lovely
lady next to him is his wife, Fleur, the stocky one there is Charlie, the bespectacled one next to him is Percy, the
shifty one there is George, and you already know Ron, the tall one sitting with Hermione.” Ginny pointed to
each one individually.

Harry just sat there staring at her in disbelief. What are they playing at?

”Yeah, like anyone wouldn't know who Harry is,” George said sarcastically. ”We know Harry. Hell, every wizard
in the ruddy country knows Harry.”

”Harry is my boyfriend,” Ginny said with a wicked gleam in her eye.


The kitchen went dead silent. Harry’s heart sank into his stomach, but Ginny took Harry's hand and glared at
her brothers defiantly, as if daring them to say or do something completely...Weasley-ish. Under the table, her
hand was on her wand, poised to strike with a quick Bat-Bogey Hex if need be.

Charlie looked at them gravely and arose from the table. ”Harry, you must understand that we are very
protective of our sister. I, personally, have been waiting for this day. In fact, as I waited, I concocted a plan to
throw any bloke she might bring home to a dragon. If he got out of it alive, I would accept him.”

Harry blanched. This can’t be good. He stole a glance at Ginny, who simply squeezed his hand as Charlie
continued.

”But you, Harry, have already passed that test. You fought and beat a vicious Hungarian Horntail in the
Triwizard Tournament, so let me be the first of the Weasley brethren to accept you!” He shook Harry’s slightly
trembling hand and slapped him on the back. Turning to Ginny, his smile softened. He stroked his sister’s hair
with rough, scarred hands, hugged her briefly, and said gently, ”Ginny, I’m happy for you. It’s obvious you more
than like him.” Charlie then took his seat.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. One down, four to go. Five, if Fred...

George stood up next. His stony face betrayed none of the friendly mischief George Weasley was famous for.
”Harry, like Charlie, I had a plans of my own for any bloke Ginny brought home. I imagined I would duel him.
Well, it seems like a pretty stupid idea now, since it’s you who taught me everything I know about dueling...and
I have little doubt that you know more spells and hexes than I’ll ever learn. You also handily kicked Voldy’s arse
and I think it's safe to say he was a tougher opponent for you than I could ever be. Anyway, I think I shall avoid
public embarrassment by skipping the challenge altogether. To be honest, Harry, I find it hard to imagine that
Ginny would choose any man less than yourself.” With that, he gave Harry a friendly punch to the shoulder and

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sat down.
Two down, three to go.

Bill and Fleur stood next and paused, looking back and forth at Ginny and then Harry with expressions Harry
couldn’t quite read. Bill folded his arms across his chest and settled his gaze on Harry.
This won’t be too bad. Bill already told me he’s okay with this. Harry pretended to be nervous for Ginny’s sake,
since she was not privy to the discussion he and Bill had in the Great Hall over lunch.

”Harry, as you know I work for Gringotts. I guess any challenge I might have imagined would involve locking the
man in one of our more secure vaults. If he managed to escape with his life and his youth, I would deem him
worthy of our Ginny. However, since you managed the impossible by breaking into and then out of the place,
you’ve more than proven yourself worthy of her.” A wide grin replaced his stony expression. ”Besides, Harry,
Fleur has had nothing but the highest praise for your character ever since she worked with you in the Triwizard
Tournament...and that’s something coming from a part-Veela,” he added with a chuckle. Bill caught Harry up in
a brotherly bear hug.

When he released him, Fleur placed her hands on both Harry’s shoulders and gave him a peck on both cheeks, a
custom so completely French. ”Welcome, ’Arry,” she whispered.
Three down, two to go.

Percy didn’t bother to stand. He just looked up at Harry from across the table.”What can I say,” Percy asked.
”You broke into the Ministry and successfully escaped, with detainees, so there goes my challenge.” Everyone
laughed as Percy shook Harry's hand. ”Be good to her,” he said, as he turned his head slightly and winked at his
sister.
Four down, one to go. Ron. His is the approval I need most of all.

For her part, Ginny stared back at her middle brother in mild surprise. To wink at anyone for any reason was
completely uncharacteristic of Percy, who carried himself off as so stoic and proper. But then again, Percy’s
demeanor had changed drastically since the battle. He’d been so kind to George over losing Fred, and then
yesterday, he stood with his brothers to guard Harry against swarming press after the ceremony. There’s hope
for him yet.

Ron stood and walked around the table and stood next to Harry, placing one of his large hands on Harry’s
shoulder. ”Harry, you’re my best mate. I’ve never met anyone quite like you. You’re loyal, devoted, brave, and
completely mental sometimes.” Ron began to choke up a little has the rest of the family snickered, not used to
Ron’s sincerity. ”Believe me, you’ll need all of those qualities to put up with my sister.” Ron and Harry both
smirked as another chuckle went around the table. ”I had a hard time accepting that the two of you are mad for
each other until Hermione practically shoved her wand up my nose the other morning, forcing me to see
reason.”

Hermione blushed scarlet. “Honestly, Ronald. You were being a complete prat about the whole thing,” she said in
mock indignation. More laughter.

”I know, ’Mione,” he said, slightly abashed. ”This isn’t easy for me, okay? Anyway, Harry, Hermione made me
step back and take a hard look at the thing that had begun to grow between you—that very deep love you two
share. It’s phenomenal and I’m very happy for you.” Rare tears began to well up in Ron’s eyes as he surveyed
his best mate’s face. ”Unlike my distinguished brothers, here, I never had a challenge for you. Nobody knows
better than me that you’re worthy of Ginny. For Merlin’s sake, Harry, you fought off a basilisk for her, faced
Voldemort, and even died for her! If that doesn’t prove you worthy, I can’t imagine anything that could!”

Harry stood and embraced his friend as he had never embraced anyone before. He simply couldn’t help himself.
He had never known Ron to share his feelings, especially this way, so it really touched him. ”Thanks, mate,” he
mumbled. ”I can’t tell you how important your opinion is to me. I wanted you to be pleased, most of all.”

Ginny and Hermione burst into tears as they each watched their significant others in their bonding moment.
Unbeknownst to one another, the same thought echoed in their minds. Who is that man and what has he done
with Ron?

The elder brothers looked curiously at the youngest, his revelation still ringing in their minds. Not knowing
what to make of it, they refrained from questioning him as their father stood to address them.

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”Weasleys, what I’m about to say to you, I’ve already said to Harry. This fine young man sitting here at our
table with us has done much for this family. He saved Ginny's life in the Chamber of Secrets, my own that night
I was attacked at the Ministry, and Ron's last year at school when he was accidentally poisoned. The training
Dumbledore's Army afforded George gave him the skills he needed to fight and survive the Battle of Hogwarts.
We could say that indirectly, Harry saved another Weasley life. And who knows, Bill, if you would have survived
Grayback’s attack at Hogwarts the night Dumbledore was killed had the DA not existed to join in that fight.”
Arthur paused, allowing the magnitude of their situation sink in.

Molly rose and put her arm around her husband. ”For any mother, I guess it's both a great joy and a bit
troubling to see her children all grown up. Even more so for me, since we’re talking about my only daughter, my
baby. Harry, I have known you for years and I've considered you my own son for all that time—ever since you
first appeared with Ron and the twins that morning they rescued you from your Aunt and Uncle in that
ridiculous flying car. You have a capacity to love in a way few can imagine. It’s obvious and thrilling that that
love extends to Ginny, and that you would do literally anything for her.” Molly had to pause for a moment to
wipe away a tear. ”Now I also know you are strong enough to take care of and temper our Ginny, but I also
know you’ll do so with tender loving care.”

Floods of emotion began to overwhelm Harry to the point that his body literally shook. Tears streamed down his
face. There was so much to take in. He’d never felt so loved—so accepted—before. Except for Ron, Hermione,
and Ginny, he never knew love like this and wonderful as it was, it broke his heart.

Ginny could sense that the proverbial dam was about to break again. She wanted to take him in her arms as she
had done only yesterday and let him pour his heart out against her breast again. But that was such a private
thing and she knew to do that now, in front of the entire clan, would be inappropriate at the very least. All she
could do was hold his hand and stroke it comfortingly as they listened to their mother.

For their own part, Ron and Hermione could tell that Harry was struggling with holding himself together. How
many times had they seen this while they were on the hunt for the Horcruxes? How many times had they
comforted him—comforted each other—during moments like this? Across the table from him, all they could do
was watch and allow Ginny to comfort him while they held to each other, willing positive energy to their friend.

Molly continued. ”And to you, my only daughter, when you were just four years old, you said you would marry
Harry Potter some day. Hold on to him, and whatever you do, always be kind to him. He loves you so very
much. Do this, Ginevra Molly Weasley, and that dream of yours may very well come true.”

Arthur rose again and raised a glass of pumpkin juice. ”A toast, Weasleys,” he announced, ”to our friend and
brother, Harry Potter, whose courage and sacrifice has been vital to this family’s survival through some very
dark times. His unwavering devotion to doing what’s right over what’s easy has given us all another chance at a
bright future. Slaínte!”
”Slaínte,” they responded in stout unison, and drank.

This was just too much.”Thanks,” Harry croaked, staring at the hand that Ginny held on the table. He could say
no more.

Everyone but George sat down after the toast. ”Now, is anyone going to tell us what all that Harry died for
Ginny business is all about, because Harry doesn't look very dead to me.” Despite having been so taken over in
strong emotions moments before, Harry let out a bit of a snicker. Trust George to break a moment with some
kind of wisecrack. Good man, George.

Ron took the initiative to answer, although he knew Harry would much rather avoid the discussion altogether. ”
There will be a lot written in the Prophet tomorrow about the battle. As requested, we gave Kingsley our account
to release to the public,” he said glancing up at Harry and Hermione. ”The Daily Prophet is going to report that a
prophecy said that Harry and Voldemort had to kill each other. You’ll read that Harry's mother's sacrifice lived in
Voldemort's blood—blood he’d stolen from Harry—and that it ended up saving Harry's life.

Harry walked into that forest with his head held high to give himself up and let Voldemort kill him. Voldemort hit
him square in the chest with the killing curse. But...what won't be written is that he went to die for Ginny, so
she could have a good life, free from fear of Voldemort. Hers was the last image he saw before the curse hit
him.

The family sat in stunned silence until Bill, shaking his head in utter wonderment, broke it. ”By Merlin's

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star-spangled headgear! Just about every bloke says he would die for his girl, but Harry, you actually did it!”

Harry shook his head. ”Please, it may sound very romantic the way Ron put it, but believe me, knowing I was
about to die taking a killing curse is not what I’d call the most romantic highlight in my life. I mean, my
thoughts about Ginny at that moment were certainly romantic,” he said, placing his free arm around her waist,
”but if I’m honest, I was scared as hell. But I felt like there was no other way. I had no choice. It had to be that
way if she—if you or anybody—was to have a chance at a decent life.”

There wasn’t a dry eye around the table when Harry finished. Hermione sobbed softly into Ron’s chest as his
own tears soaked her bushy brown hair. Bill held Fleur close, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. Molly
sobbed into Arthur’s shoulder, while Percy, George, and Charlie stared at fumbling hands, saying nothing.

No one but Hermione seemed to notice that Harry and Ginny had gotten up and headed for the stairs. She
nudged Ron and cocked her head their direction. Ron nodded, took her hand, and led her after them. They found
Harry and Ginny on Ginny’s bed holding each other. Ron and Hermione joined them, and soon they huddled in a
group hug and cried together for their brother, Fred, and all the friends and fellow combatants lost in the war.

They kept to themselves for most of the rest of the day until Molly called them down to supper. Even she
understood that the four of them needed time to sort out everything that had been said that afternoon, so she
left them to it, not even bothering them until it was time for the evening meal. ”Supper, dears,” she called up
the stairs. ”Come now, after all that emotion, you must be famished,” she said to them as they trooped down the
stairs to the table. They had to admit that they were hungry, but they also felt much better having purged a few
demons with their tears.

Following a sumptuous meal of roast pork, carrots, and potatoes, with a raspberry trifle for dessert, Ron and
Hermione wandered off to who-knew-where to engage in who-knew-what, while Harry and Ginny were content
to sit in the garden, cuddled up together listening to the sounds coming from the surrounding trees, and stealing
occasional kisses in the twilight. Molly and Arthur watched them through the window. ”They are very much in
love, Arthur.”

”Indeed they are, Molly. It almost makes me forget how young they are,” he replied.

”They have been forced to mature. They were in love last year. It amazes me how their love survived all that
time without seeing or hearing from one another. In that extended absence, that love appears to have grown.”

”You’re right, Mollywobbles. I think it's safe to say this is more than a simple teenage crush,” Arthur guessed.

”Think about how Harry told us, Arty. A bit nervous, of course, but who wouldn't be nervous telling his
girlfriend's parents about their relationship? He declared his love for her straightaway,” Molly said and looked at
her husband. ”That impressed me.”

”Hmmm, yes. You know, I have a feeling about Harry and Ginny—the same feeling I had about us when we got
together,” Arthur said.

”I know, and I think you’re right. There is something uniquely special about them. I know I'm having a hard time
accepting that she's growing up—that she has grown up—but I think we need to encourage their relationship.
Within reason, of course,” Molly added with a sly smile.

They continued to watch Harry and Ginny who sat wrapped tightly together. ”Yes, my dear. Somehow they seem
to spread happiness all around them,” Arthur mused. ”C’mon, Love. Let’s not spy on them any further.” Arthur
and Molly walked away from the window arm in arm and made their way to the stairs.

Harry’s statement concerning his private life appeared in the next morning’s edition of the Daily Prophet,
although it didn’t appear as a headline. Surprisingly, an editorial apology to Harry and his friends appeared on
the front page.

”I love her more than life itself.” Those are Harry Potter's exact words about his girlfriend. As a result of

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published speculation about his love life, Mr Potter announced yesterday in an official statement that his girlfriend
is, in fact, Miss Ginevra (Ginny) Weasley. The Daily Prophet wishes to congratulate the couple and apologise for
its blatant disregard for their and their friends’ privacy. In his statement, Mr Potter expressed a very deep love
for Miss Weasley, which leads us to believe that it is safe to say that Mr Potter is ’off the market.’
Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry together for five years.
She held the position of Chaser on Mr Potter's winning Quidditch team, playing under the Gryffindor House
colors. Mr Potter has been close to the Weasley family for years, as Mr Ronald Weasley is one of Mr Potter's
closest friends. Miss Weasley, as previously reported, led Dumbledore's Army alongside Neville Longbottom,
another of Mr Potter’s close friends, during the last year of the war. As a result, she became the youngest witch
in history to receive the Order of Merlin for her bravery. (See next page for Mr Potter's statement in which he
also comments on the other girls believed to have been involved in relationships with him.)”

The gossip column shifted its focus to a professional Quidditch player known to be a bachelor. ”Poor sod,” Harry
chuckled.

Kingsley sent them an owl saying that any more speculation about Harry's personal life should be hard to
publish now. Anyone violating Harry's publically-expressed wish with respect to his privacy would be abjectly
frowned upon. He also told them that the Ministry had been flooded with owls to themselves and Neville.
Kingsley had expected as much, so he had arranged ahead of time for every message from heartbroken witches
to good luck greetings addressed to Harry to be delivered to the Ministry, since Harry had no known address in
the Wizarding world and he, Kingsley, intended to keep it that way.

Kingsley had also set up similar arrangements for the others, essentially making their official address the
Ministry of Magic. Any message to any of the five of them would come there, but for friends and family, there
was a list that allowed the owls to deliver their letters and parcels directly to their homes. However, in a day,
the Ministry owlery lay in chaos.

Kingsley invited the five of them to meet with him at the Ministry that evening to discuss the action he had
taken on their behalf, and to show them the over-crowded owlery. ”Look at this. I hope you don't blame me for
taking action, but through my power as Minister for Magic, I knew I had the authority to take these steps to
spare you this mess.” Kingsley told them. None of them had seen so many owls at one time. They looked at one
another in disbelief. ”They seem to come in faster than we can send them back,” Kingsley continued, as he told
them how he had made the Ministry of Magic their official address. ”I realised what would happen today when I
read your statement in the Prophet this morning. I hope you're not angry.”

”No, no, not at all. Thank you Kingsley,” Harry said. The others nodded earnestly in agreement. ”What do you
think we should do with all of this?”

”I’ve assigned a few members of the secretarial pool to sort it all out, but I believe I’ll need to bring in more
people full-time to keep up with it. I was thinking about hiring teams to sort each type of correspondence,
including ones whose express purpose is to screen each letter and parcel for booby traps and other harmful
contraband.”

”What do you mean by contraband, Minister,” Hermione asked, thoroughly intrigued.

”Kingsley, please. Oh, the usual nonsense. Dungbombs, Bubotuber pus, that sort of thing,” he replied.

”People are actually doing that through them mail? That’s crazy,” Ginny said angrily. ”Have they nothing better
to do,” she asked with a slightly raised voice.

”It makes one wonder, Ginny, but mostly, the mail consists of congratulations to you and Harry, thanks yous to
all of you for your efforts in bringing down Voldemort and winning the war, love letters to all of you, requests for
special appearances at specific events, job offers, commercial endorsements, requests for autographed
photos...the list goes on,” he said, ticking each item off on his long fingers.

”This is mental,” Ron declared. ”If this keeps up, the owlery will be nothing but a mountain of letters and owl
droppings in less than a week!”

”I hope you understand that I did this in order to maintain your privacy,” Kingsley said. ”My plan is that a team
of secretaries would handle the letters as you instruct them. Basically, they will be your press secretaries, but
officially, secretaries of the Ministry owlery. I have a list of former Hogwarts students who have expressed their

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wish to work for the Ministry. I shall leave it up to you to chose one each to handle your individual mail.”

”Kingsley, is it really right to hire five secretaries on the Ministry payroll to handle mail addressed to the five of
us,” Hermione asked. ”I mean, I’m not complaining by any means, but is this really the
Ministry’s...your...responsibility?”

”There are ways to justify it. Hermione, your address is your parents’ home, but since they didn't sell it before
moving to Australia, and because it's rented to another Muggle couple, it would take too many Ministry
resources to keep the Muggles living there confunded on a permanent basis, not to mention the damage it might
do to their minds.”

”That makes sense, I guess,” Hermione said thoughtfully. ”I hadn’t thought about that.”

”Indeed,” Kingsley agreed. ”Now, even though Harry lives at the Burrow for the time being, he doesn't really
have a permanent address. Grimmauld Place belongs to him, certainly, but it’s still protected under the Fidelius
charm, so no one knows it even exists, let alone that Harry might live there. Furthermore, we can't have owls
flying all over the country, day in and day out, making multiple daily deliveries to Hogwarts, Godric's Hollow, or
perhaps even the Burrow. It would raise suspicion in the Muggle world and become a threat to the secrecy of our
world.”

”But Minister...” Neville started.

”Please, Neville, call me Kingsley,” he admonished.

”Okay...erm...Kingsley...What’s the harm in receiving a load of mail? I mean, since people think we’ve done
something so wonderful, wouldn’t it stand to reason that we’d be likely to receive loads of fan mail,” Neville
asked.

”One would think so, Neville, but since you, Ron, and Ginny live in Wizarding families, we can claim concern for
your health, since we have already found cursed letters addressed to all of you. It’s also easier to keep owls
flying in and out of the Ministry a secret easier than having them flying all over England looking for the five of
you.”

”Well...I suppose so, but I’m sure my gran’s going to have plenty to say about it,” he said shaking his head,
snickering quietly to himself.

Kingsley chuckled at Neville’s simple, if not astute, observation. ”I have no doubt that Augusta Longbottom
might be quite vocal about all this fuss we’re making over you,” he said, eyes twinkling. ”Nevertheless, it’s our
hope that we can get you through all the initial fuss so you can get on with your lives. Now,” he said rubbing his
hands together, ”please carefully look over this list of potential candidates, choose one each to act as your ’press
secretary,’ and then jot down instructions as to which types of letters you’d each like to receive personally, and
which ones you’d rather your secretary should address, along with your wishes as to how he or she should
address them.”

Kingsley left them to their task in a small conference room, supplied with a bottomless pitcher pumpkin juice,
sandwiches and crisps, for which the five friends were grateful. This job could take a while and they would need
sustenance. ”Good thing he left all this food here, really,” said Ron rubbing his growling stomach. ”I’m starved!”

”Newsflash! Ronald Weasley is starved,” quipped Hermione as she planted a quick kiss on his cheek. ”We’ll alert
the media.” The five friends broke into gales of laughter, holding their sides and wiping mirthful tears from their
eyes.

”Very witty, Hermione,” smiled Ron as he reached for the pitcher to pour himself a glass. ”Pumpkin juice,
anyone?” How is it that I never noticed how funny she can be before? Oh yeah. I was too busy being a prat.

Ron proceeded to pour juice into glasses for his companions as they all set to work. Following some mild debate,
they chose Lee Jordan as head of their press relations team. The Patil twins and two Hufflepuff students Neville
vouched for rounded out the group.

Hermione called Kingsley back into the room to let him know they were finished. ”I’ll draw up some binding
magical contracts for them to sign. They’ll be similar to the one they signed when they joined Dumbledore's

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Army. That should keep them honest.”

”Fine. I will put them to work as soon as possible,” Kingsley told them. ”If you’re finished here, you’re free to go.
Thank you for your cooperation,” he said as he shook each of their hands. ”Harry, Ron, take care of these little
ladies. They’re something special,” he said with a wink. ”Goodnight then.” He turned to leave.”

”Blimey. You and Ginny have been headlines, Harry, but I didn’t think anyone noticed Hermione and me,” said a
blushing Ron. He had wrapped his arm tightly around Hermione’s waist.

”Not notice you and Hermione,” exclaimed Neville. ”Everyone’s known for ages how mad you are for each other!
We all wondered what the bloody hell took you so long!” They were still laughing as they boarded the lifts that
would take them to the atrium, where they Apparated to their respective homes.

Upon arrival at the Burrow, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny gave Mr and Mrs Weasley a full report of the
evening’s events before they all retired for the night. Harry and Ron left Ginny and Hermione at the door to
their room with kisses and lingering embraces before they bade each other ”Sweet Dreams” and parted.

The first of many funerals were coming up in the next few days. While no one looked forward to any of them,
Harry dreaded them the most. He still couldn’t shake the guilt he’d harboured for those lost in the war. He and
Ginny had sat down to a game of Wizard’s Chess, but he just couldn’t concentrate. The faces of those killed
flashed through his mind like a slideshow. The photo of his parents’ wedding day. Sirius. Moody. Hedwig. Dobby.
Remus. Tonks. Fred. Colin. Over and over it played.

Ginny knew something was wrong. Harry’s mind was definitely not on the game. His erratic moves garnered him
the wrath of the men on the board to the point that they wouldn’t obey him at all anymore. His eyes, usually a
sparkling emerald green, had gone dark and his brow furrowed a little. ”Harry, Love, what is it? Is it the
funerals,” she asked.

”Yeah, I suppose so,” he replied sadly. ”I mean, you’ve all told me time and again that it’s not my fault, but I
just can’t help but think there was something I could have done differently that would have saved them from...”
Harry cut himself off. He really didn’t want to go there again.

Ginny took him by the hand and pulled him to a standing position. ”Let’s take a walk out to our spot by the
pond,” she said. ”The fresh air will do you good and we can talk there. Okay,” she prodded as she sought his
downcast eyes.

”Yeah, okay. Couldn’t hurt, I guess,” he said, allowing her to lead him towards the door.

”Ron, if anyone asks, we’re out taking a walk. We’ll be back in a bit,” Ginny called as they headed out the door.
He looked up from the parchment on the table in front of him and nodded.

The day after Harry and Ginny had made their relationship public, Ron and Hermione thought it might be a good
idea to release a statement of their own, at least for Hermione’s sake. They wrote a short statement and sent it
to Lee Jordan at the Ministry for release the next day. They both wanted their relationship to be official for the
funerals, as they needed each other so desperately, but they also wanted to ensure that Hermione’s honour
would never be publically called into question again.

”Do you think it’s good enough, ’Mione,” Ron asked placing a palm against her smooth face. As she leaned into
it, he continued. ”I mean, I don’t want any of those vultures reading more into this than what’s actually there. I
don’t want to have to break any journalistic bones...”

”Ron, it’s fine,” she assured him as she turned her face to kiss his palm. ”If the vultures can glean anything
sinister out of that, feel free to break all the bones your heart desires and I’ll be there to cheer you on. I’m sure
Harry would love to sell tickets,” she said with a toothy grin.

”You’ve been hanging around George too, long, Love,” Ron laughed. ”Merlin, how I love you, Hermione. You’ve
bewitched me.”

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”I love you too, you big loveable lug.” Hermione threw her arms around his neck and initiated a fine snog right
there at the kitchen table.

”Shall we retire to the upper regions, Love,” Ron asked her as he waggled his eyebrows.

”Lead on,” she said in a low voice.

”Lead on, nothing,” he said as he scooped her up and carried her to his room giggling, and closed the door.

Lee proved to be the perfect man to handle their public relations nightmares. He had already started to organize
the large bags of letters, asked for official answers to frequently asked questions, and for specific guidelines as
to how to handle various offers and which letters to send on to the five of them.
We, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, wish to announce to the Wizarding community that we are in a
serious relationship. We do this in order to avoid any speculation and wish that our privacy be respected.
To contact either of us, Harry, Ginny, or Neville Longbottom, please send an owl to Lee Jordan's office at the
Ministry of Magic. He handles all of our public relations.
Ronald B. Weasley, OMFC
Hermione J. Granger, OMFC

Hand in hand, Harry and Ginny walked toward the pond without speaking. They stood and gazed out at the
water for a few minutes until Harry sat down against a tree and pulled Ginny down with him. She settled into his
lap and laid her head on his chest, taking comfort in the steady beating of his heart. ”I know you’re hurting,
Harry, but please know I’m here for you. We can talk or not talk, but I’m here,” she assured him as she traced
circles on his chest.

”Gin, I wish I could shake this infernal guilt. It’s driving me mad,” he said in frustration.

”Well, perhaps I can help you with that,” she said with a wicked smile playing at the edges of her mouth.

Cottoning on to her meaning, he decided to play along. ”Oh, and how’s that,” he asked with eyebrows raised.

”Like this,” she said softly as she gently pushed him back onto the lush green grass, climbed aboard, and
captured his lips with her own. She ran her hands through his messy raven locks as he returned her kiss.

”Merlin, Gin,” Harry moaned as her lips traveled along his jawbone to the pulse point at his collarbone. ”You
know just the right thing to say or do to bring me out of a right funk, did you know that?” He rolled her over
onto her back and leaned over her on his elbow. He lowered his head and placed tiny kisses down her neck and
across her shoulder.
That feels wonderful. ”Mmmm, I try,” she purred as she pulled his mouth back to hers for another mind-blowing
kiss. She slid her hands up Harry’s shirt to run them over his bare back. He moaned again and ran his tongue
along her bottom lip. Her lips parted and their tongues danced together in a fury. Hot flames shot through both
of their bodies as the kiss intensified.

Harry couldn’t get enough of her. He lost himself in the scent of her hair, her touch, her kiss—everything about
her captured his imagination. He’d promised this beautiful creature he now held in his arms that he would never
leave her again and he vowed to himself that he’d never would. He felt his own hands travel under the hem of
her blouse to run across the silkiness of her back.

”Oh Harry,” Ginny cried, as she arched in to him. ”I love you so much,” she whispered into his mouth.

”I love you, too, Gin. I can’t begin to tell you how much,” he murmured into her ear. Their snogging session
began to progress to another level as Harry’s hand stole its way across a breast. Ginny moaned deeply and
arched again. Harry could feel an awakening that got more and more difficult to control with each passing
moment. Suddenly Harry rolled off her and sat up. ”Ginny, we have to stop,” he said running his hands through
his hair.

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”Why,” she asked, slightly annoyed. ”What’s wrong?”

”Nothing’s wrong, Gin. What could possibly be wrong? You...this—it’s fantastic!”

”So what’s the problem,” she asked as she reached for him again.

”It’s just that...well...I...we...if we’d gone on much further and longer, I wouldn’t be able to stop and well...I just
don’t think either of us is ready for that yet,” he said, as he took her hand and helped her to sit up. ”What we
have is so precious to me, so unbelievably right and good, that I don’t want anything screwing that up. Can we
just slow it down, if only a bit?”

”Didn’t you like it,” she asked as her bottom lip began to tremble.

”Of course I liked it,” he assured her as he placed a palm against her cheek. ”I loved it. I love you. You...you’re
amazing! I can’t say it enough,” he said as he drew her into a warm embrace. ”I just have too much respect for
you to rush you into something that would be wonderful in the moment, but that we’d regret later on.
Ginny...baby...we’re just not ready for that. We’ve only been back together for a few days. We both need time,”
Harry told her as he held her close.

”You’re right, Harry. Perhaps we do need a bit more time. We still have so much we need to talk about, and
we’ve got all these funerals to get through, especially Fred’s...” Her voice began to break. ”I know you respect
me, Harry, and I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.”

Harry raised both of her hands to his lips and lightly brushed across them. ”You’re everything to me, Gin. I
wouldn’t want to live if I lost you,” he said gazing into her brown eyes, watching the flecks of gold dance in the
waning light. ”Are we okay,” he asked tentatively.

”Harry, my love, you’ll never lose me. I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me,” she said as she returned his
gaze. Those eyes. Those gorgeous green eyes. ”And of course we’re okay, Harry. But maybe we’d better head
inside before Mum sends a search party after us.”

They both laughed as they pulled themselves up off the ground and turned back toward the house. Halfway
there, they stopped for one last deep kiss before they went inside. ”That was nice,” Harry said as he gave her a
final squeeze.”We’ll have to do that again sometime, yeah?”

”Oh yeah. We’ll just have to try and remember to tone it down a bit though,” she replied with a smirk as they
stepped to the door.

The next couple of weeks were difficult what with all the funerals and memorials they’d been invited to, but it
was necessary that they obliged. Harry attended many of the funerals and memorials for those who died in the
battle. The hardest ones to endure were Remus' and Tonks' and now...Fred's.

Fred would be laid to rest at the Burrow. The night before, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy and George returned. The
entire Weasley assemblage, including Harry and Hermione, once again gathered around the scrubbed kitchen
table to talk about the publicity.

”I think we must accept the fact that we are perhaps the most famous family in Wizarding Britain,” Bill claimed,
”especially after announcements that Harry and Hermione are now a part of it.”

”I agree.” Charlie gave his brother full support. ”Even as far away as Romania, I get loads of questions from my
friends. Of course, Harry is the one they ask about mostly, but they ask a lot about Ron and Hermione too, you
know? It’s all about the Golden Trio or the Merlin Teens, and every other collective title they can come up with
for the three of you. There's a big interest in Harry and Ginny as a couple, too.”

Harry sighed resignedly. Has this insanity no bounds?

”I’ve been working to re-open the shop in Diagon Alley,” George said ”Everything you said is true Charlie, but

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Mum and Dad, you’re celebrities too. Did you know that? Mum defeated Bellatrix Lestrange and both of you are
members of the Order of the Phoenix.”

”Fleur is recognized in the press since her participation in the Triwizard Tournament, George has made himself a
name through the joke shop, and Percy has been seen around the Ministry,” Charlie explained. ”I guess I'm the
least famous in the family.” Thank Merlin.

”Well then, we need to make some adjustments to our collective public image. We can't keep rogue reporters
like Rita Skeeter from publishing their rubbish, but we can stick together,” Arthur said. ”We’ll always check with
each other before reacting to anything they write about us, so as not to give people like Rita Skeeter anything
to feed upon.”

Ginny blushed, which got her father’s attention. ”Ginny?”

”Well, it's just that Ron talked about sending that last git of a reporter a dungbomb. And... well... I took it
further than talking. I sent one,” she admitted as she wrapped her arms around Harry’s arm. No one writes
those kinds of things about Harry and goes unpunished. So much for behaving,” she said with an embarrassed
sigh.

Everyone remained silent for a second before George broke into laughter. ”Brilliant Ginny! That's my sister!”

After a while, everyone managed to pull themselves together. Arthur looked around the table at his family. ”I
did hear a rumour that the Daily Prophet received dozens of dungbombs after publishing that article. I guess
we're not the only ones who found it offensive.” Ginny breathed a great sigh of relief at that news.

”Lee and his team have worked our public relations organisation into a well-oiled machine. They go through the
owls and send us a pack of letters he thinks we might be interested in reading, according to our guidelines,”
Harry said.

”Yeah, he's doing a great job. I hope we all can agree to let any official statement be sent through him,” said
Ron. They all nodded.

The Weasleys chose to keep Fred’s burial private, inviting only family and close friends, among them Harry and
Hermione, who were already practically family, Lee Jordan, the old Gryffindor Quidditch Team, and of course,
Aunt Muriel. George took his twin’s death hard and still couldn’t quite accept that he was gone, but he did his
level best to keep his spirits up as he delivered a short speech before they lowered Fred’s coffin into the grave.

”Fred and I were always considered pranksters and troublemakers. Those who knew Fred knew that to be true,
but more than that, those who really knew Fred knew he was loyal friend, always doing whatever he could to
raise his friends’ spirits when they were feeling down. After Voldemort's return, we talked one time about the
possibility that one or both of us might be killed. We actually told each other what we wanted the other to say at
our funerals. These are Fred's own words:
'Okay Weasleys. I hope you are crying today, otherwise I will have to become a ghost an haunt each one of you
for the rest of your days. I'll check back in a week or so, but if you're still crying then, though, I'll come back and
haunt you for that. It's all right to cry at my funeral, but afterwards, you make sure to LIVE. I’m hoping I died so
that the rest of you could go on, so don't disappoint me.'

That's Fred, but you get the message: Mourn today, live tomorrow.”

Though thoroughly devastated Arthur and Molly, found that they felt a little better after hearing the words of
their dead son through his surviving twin. The family gathered around them in a small circle, with Charlie and
Percy supporting a severely trembling George between them, Bill and Fleur holding each other closely as Fleur
cried softly into his shoulder. Ron and Hermione stood together, sobbing, clutched tightly in each other’s arms,
as did Harry and Ginny next to them. Arthur placed his arm around Molly’s shoulders and held her close as he
began to speak.

No parent should ever have to bury their child,” he said. ”It isn’t natural and it isn’t right. However, we’ve been

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forced to do that here today. There is no magic to banish grief; only time can do that.” Arthur paused to give his
family a chance to recover a bit and then he continued.

”While I mourn Fred’s passing, I look around and find the rest of my family around me, safe and whole. I won't
dwell on Fred's death because I have all of you to live for and make memories with.” A small sob escaped the
Weasley Patriarch’s lips. A few deep breaths later, he spoke again as his family wiped moist eyes and listened.

”I told Harry back at Hogwarts that without him, Ginny, myself, Ron and maybe Bill might have been lost, too.
That doesn't mean I take Fred’s loss lightly. No, not at all. It only means there is still so much to live for, and I
must agree with George. Fred would like us to live, for when we do choose to live, Fred lives on, too, in each
and every one of us.” While Arthur’s words did little to assuage the grief, they did offer the necessary closure so
that life could go on for the Weasleys.

As per usual, Molly had prepared a feast. Keeping busy had kept her going during those very difficult days
before the burial. George's speech sank right into the hearts of all of them. Fred would have wanted them to live
good lives and have a little—no, a lot—of fun along the way. The magnificent feast lifted everyone's spirits, and
halfway through, it felt like a family reunion as they celebrated Fred’s life and legacy.

Great-aunt Muriel caught Harry and Ginny holding hands by themselves, just about to engage in a long-overdue
kiss.”So you’re that Potter boy they write so much about, are you? And you’re marrying our Ginevra, is that
right,” Aunt Muriel asked in an inquisitorial tone.

Harry blushed. ”One day, hopefully,” Harry replied, trying to sound as respectful as he could. He’d been
forewarned about Aunt Muriel by both Ginny and Ron.

”She’s a bloody nightmare,” Ron told him. ”She’s always bossing people around, telling them what to do.
Everyone’s afraid of her.”

”Oh please, Ron,” Ginny retorted. ”She’s just a dotty old bat looking for attention,” she laughed.

”Yeah, well, don’t get in wrong with her,” Ron warned. ”She’s always threatening to disinherit this one or that
one over something really stupid. Besides, Ginny, it’s easy for you to talk. You’re her favorite,” he said with a
smirk.

”Yeah, right. Anyway, you two,” she said pointing at Harry and Hermione, ”don’t let her get under your skin.
She’s harmless, really.”
Ron snorted in disgust and they all fell over themselves laughing as Ron and Ginny told more stories about Crazy
Aunt Muriel.

”Rubbish, Potter,” she said. ”At my age you see things. I expect an invitation to your wedding, of course.”

Harry opened his mouth as if to answer her, but thought better of it and closed it again.

”Aunt Muriel” Ginny said, as red as Harry. ”Wouldn't it be best if Harry actually proposed to me before we talk
about a wedding? And I'm not even of age yet...”

”Poppycock, Ginevra. Tell him to get on with it. I'm not getting any younger.”

Harry chuckled. He simply couldn’t help himself.

Arthur had heard it all and came to their rescue. ”Dearest aunt,” he said. ”I know that Ronald has some news he
wishes to tell you in person.”

”Oh really? I see him over there with that Granger girl. Yes, I suppose I’d better get over there.”

Aunt Muriel left them and headed for Ron and Hermione and Ginny mouthed a 'thank you' to her dad. As soon
as aunt Muriel had waddled away to corner Ron and Hermione, Arthur looked back at them. ”Well, what are you
waiting for? We can't miss this,” Arthur said. Ginny gave him an odd look. ”Oh, I’ll rescue Ron too, after a
while...but don't tell Molly.”

Harry and Ginny nodded enthusiastically and hurried after Arthur to watch the show. They drew closer to Ron

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and Hermione so they could hear what Aunt Muriel might say that would most assuredly embarrass them.
”Ronald, I hear you have some news. Some mischief I presume,” Aunt Muriel said looking inquisitorially at him
and Hermione.

Ron immediately blushed and looked at Hermione, his blue eyes begging her for help.

”Yes, Ronald, please tell Aunt Muriel our news,” Hermione grinned, clearly enjoying putting her man on the spot.
Turnabout is fair play isn’t it, my love?

”Aunt Muriel. May I introduce...” Ron said and put his arm around Hermione.

”... yes, yes I know. She’s that Granger girl the new Minister declared a genius.”

”Yes, and this Granger girl is in fact my girl. We wrote a statement for the Prophet just the other day,” Ron said
confidently, surprising even himself.

”Well, the Prophet is full of lies. But she's your girl, you say? And they said she was smart. Did you knock her
up, Ronald,” she asked pointedly, turning to Hermione, who face filled with horror. ”Oh, no offense, dear. It's
only an old witch's bad joke. You seem to be a nice young lady. You know,” she said, pulling Hermione closer, ”I
just learned that Ginevra will marry that Potter boy. Now, Ronald is a sweet boy, but be warned. The Weasleys
breed like rabbits, so you’d better learn those special charms for women. Shouldn't be a problem if you are only
half as smart as the Minister says, but when was the last time the Ministry was right about anything?”

Hermione giggled as Aunt Muriel gave Hermione’s arm a maternal pat as she wandered off looking for someone
else to embarrass. Ron's face was so red, his hair seemed almost blond. While he spluttered and coughed,
Hermione stood there and laughed in silence, her body shaking as she worked to hold it all in.

Arthur looked at Ginny and Harry, who were both in tears for laughing so hard. Aunt Muriel seemed completely
oblivious to the fact that they were laughing at her diatribe. ”I guess I should have gone to the rescue a bit
sooner, but then we would have missed all the fun.” Arthur was nearly howling with laughter and he walked off
in search of Molly.

Harry snickered at his retreating back. ”Your dad, sending her on Ron like that...he really enjoyed that, didn’t
he?”

”Where do you think Fred and George got it all,” Ginny smiled impishly.

”You know, Ginny, she may be dotty, but she’s certainly...entertaining,” Harry laughed.

”Oh yes. And if you still want me now that you’ve had the Aunt Muriel Experience, I'm yours forever.”

”I want you forever and longer. You own me, heart and soul. My Ginny,” Harry whispered, as he leaned in for
the kiss that had been previously interrupted.

”My Harry, my only love. The feeling’s mutual...forever,” she breathed into his lips as they pressed against hers.
They lingered in the kiss for as long as they could before they had to come up for air. They broke apart, realising
that people had begun to stare. Ginny took Harry’s hand with a giggle. ”Come on, Ron appears to have regained
his normal colour.”

They joined Ron and Hermione. ”So Ron, surviving Aunt Muriel, is that some kind of NEWT for becoming a true
part of the Weasley family,” Harry asked with a chuckle.

”Actually she's a Prewett, but something like a NEWT, I guess. Except for me, I was born into it.”

”Well I’m apparently pregnant and the two of you are getting married. She’s certainly got it all worked out,
hasn’t she,” Hermione grinned.

”She sure thinks she does. Hey, I noticed George spent a lot of time with Katie Bell today,” Ginny reported.

”That’s a good sign,” Ron said. ”He’s taking Fred’s advice and moving on.”

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The sun began to sink low over the horizon as the party broke up and the guests took their leave. Once they
finally bid farewell to the last of the visitors, the Weasley assemblage cleared away and then sat down to the
scrubbed table for a last cuppa before bed. Having herded the youngsters up the stairs to their rooms, Arthur
and Molly retired to their own bed. ”It’s been a long day, Molly dear, but we got through it.”

”It has, and I’m glad it over,” she replied.

”I love you, Mollywobbles,” Arthur said as he kissed her forehead and slid an arm under her pillow.

”I love you too, Arty. Sleep well, dear,” she said as she snuggled into the crook of his arm and drifted off to
sleep.

Over the next several days, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione really began to take note of the celebrity status
they had risen to in the Wizarding World. There were almost daily reports in the Daily Prophet about their
involvement in fall of Lord Voldemort and its aftermath. There were regular reports regarding the drastic
changes taking place at the Ministry under Kingsley Shacklebolt and the trials of numerous Death Eaters already
in custody. There were photos of Death Eaters still at large, punctuated with copies of their respective arrest
warrants. A schedule of funerals for the prominent dead appeared on the Obituary page, include those of Fred
and Remus and Tonks.

The four of them tried to live as normally as possible. Hermione had improved the protective charms around the
Burrow to afford them and the Weasleys a little peace and quiet. The lack of speculative journalism that had
plagued Harry for the past three years had seemed to disappear. Whether that happy circumstance could be
attributed to Lee’s fine work at the Ministry or the media’s actual compliance with his wishes, Harry couldn’t be
certain. What he could be certain of, though, is that he appreciated it. There were a few incidents at funerals or
memorials where a few inconsiderate members of the press plied them with questions, some of them personal,
which they all declined to answer, directing them to submit their inquiries to Mr Lee Jordan at the Ministry.

On several occasions, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione would meet up with Neville, who suffered the same kind
of journalistic frustration. Rumours had begun to float around, in and out of the press, that he had been often
seen with Hannah Abbott. At one particular reception, Ron and Harry managed to corner him.

"Hey, Neville," Ron said as Harry cast the Muffliato charm. "What is it we read about you and Hannah? I thought
you and Luna had something going."

Neville blushed and tried to hide a smile.

"So it's true then," Harry asked.

"Hannah and me...we're dating, yeah," he said happily. ”Luna and I are very good friends. I had a thing for her
for a while, but then I met Hannah, well, we've known each other for years of course. You get it, right,” he
explained.

"Congrats Neville, but where is she," Ron wondered.

"Well, I haven't told my gran yet, so it's not really official. You know the old drill," Neville replied.

Dawn broke over Harry’s horizon. So that’s what that family meeting was about last week...

"You’d better, and soon. Hannah’s a nice girl and I think your gran will be proud of you,” Ron teased.

Neville leaned over toward Ron’s ear. "Ron, I need to talk to Harry in private. Do you mind," he asked Ron
bashfully.

"Not at all, mate. See you in a few," Ron said and strode over behind Hermione and wrapped his long arms
around her middle.

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Harry looked questioningly at Neville. ”So what can I do for you, Nev?”

"About Hannah...Gran knows. It's just that I want her to meet my parents before it's officially official. Is that
weird? I mean, you've seen them. They don't even know I'm their son."

Harry thought for a moment. "I don't think it's weird, Neville. Look, I’ve never told anyone this, but ever since I
got back together with Ginny, I've wanted to take her to my parent's graves in Godric's Hollow."

”You and Ginny are meant to be together, Harry. It’s obvious even to me. I sure won't tell anyone,” Neville
promised.

”Thanks, mate. Listen, Neville. If Hannah loves you, and I’m sure she does, she’ll understand. Just trust enough
to tell her what happened to them so she’s prepared when you take her to visit them. I’m sure she’ll be grateful
that you thought enough of her to put that much faith in her,” Harry advised.

”Thanks, Harry. I knew you’d be able to help.” Neville offered his hand and the two friends shared a firm
handshake.

”Good luck, old man,” Harry called as Neville walked away. I have got to remember to thank him for looking
after Ginny last year at Hogwarts.

A couple of days later, Harry decided it was high time he paid a visit to Andromeda Tonks and his godson, Teddy.
”Do you want to come,” Harry asked Ginny.

”Yes, of course.”

”We’re off, then.” Harry Apparated them to Andromeda's house. She held a blanketed bundle containing baby
Teddy in her arms as she ushered them in.

”Welcome, both of you,” Andromeda said with a warm grin. She invited them for tea in the garden.

”Would you like to hold him,” Andromeda asked Harry.

”Yes, please,” Harry replied happily, receiving the baby carefully. ”Hey, little mate. I’m your Godfather, Harry,”
he whispered to the child as he tickled his little chin with a crooked finger. ”Your mum and dad were really good
friends of mine and you and I are going to have loads of fun together. I’m going to tell you all about them and
how much they loved you. I promise you’ll never want for anything and you’ll never be alone. Your gran and
Ginny and I are always going to be here for you,” Harry murmured has the little boy wrapped his tiny fingers
around Harry’s thumb.

He gazed in wonder into the tiny face of his godson. He blinked back tears burning in his eyes as he thought
about his own Godfather, Sirius Black. He thought about Remus and Tonks and how thrilled they were to have
this little bundle of joy. He thought about how he and Remus had rowed at Grimmauld place when Harry
lambasted him for contemplating abandoning his wife and unborn baby because of Voldemort. Nice one, Potter.
You shouted at Remus Lupin for doing the very thing you’d done to Ginny, only in your case, there was no baby
involved.

He’d never forget that night at Shell Cottage, not too long after the escape from Malfoy Manor, when Remus
Lupin arrived in a flurry of excitement announcing that Teddy had been born and asking Harry to be his new
son’s godfather.

Ginny, who had been carrying on a conversation with Andromeda about the many plants and flowers that graced
the garden, looked over at them and smiled. She felt a strong surge of joy as Harry looked up at her with a
smile as big as all outdoors.

”You look so cute,” Ginny said as Teddy changed his hair to match Harry's. ”Oh! Look at that! He looks just like
you, Harry,” she cried.

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”Dora did that a lot too when she was a baby. He likes you, Harry,” Andromeda sighed. ”She loved imitating
anyone who held her. Teddy seems to enjoy it as well.”

”Andromeda, I don't know what you think, but I want you to know that as Teddy's godfather I want to be a part
of his life,” Harry said.

”Of course. When you contacted me, I had already thought of writing to you. As godfather, you have sole
responsibility for Teddy. Technically, you are his legal guardian now that Dora and Remus...” Andromeda’s voice
trailed off as a tear rolled down her cheek.

”Andromeda, is it your wish that Teddy should live here with you...at least until he’s older?”

”I would like that. I'm alone now. Well, my sister Narcissa Malfoy is alive, but we're not exactly close. Caring for
Teddy means a lot to me. He makes me want to press on with life,” she admitted.

”In all honesty, I don't really have a home for him and I don't know about my future as yet. I haven’t made any
real plans, so I think he's better off here with you,” Harry smiled, ”but I hope we’re welcome to visit.”

”Of course, Harry. Any time.”

Harry gazed back at Teddy and bounced him lightly in his arms. ”I also lost my parents when I was very young. I
can't replace Dora or Remus, but I will do my best to be a good godfather. In the future when I...” Harry looked
at Ginny. ”... hopefully when we, have a home, Teddy will be welcome there and treated as our own son. Isn’t
that right, little buddy?”

They spent the entire afternoon with Teddy, and as they returned home, both Harry and Ginny thought about
having a family of their own one day.

A/N As you probably have noticed by now, this is not a story focusing on the post war trauma. This is a
Adventure/Romance/Fluff story. There are hints here and there to clarify that they indeed are affected by the
war, but if it's post war trauma you want you'll have to find it in another story. That said, I hope you'll keep
enjoying this story.

Chapter 3: Heritage
[View Online] [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Chapter 3 - Heritage

”Ginny. Gin?” A warm hand caressed her shoulder and a kind voice invaded the mists of her dream. ”Hey, Gin.
Wake up. It’s past ten. We’re going to Diagon Alley today, remember?” A sweet sensation spread from her
shoulder to her neck and she began to stir.

”Wha...sleeping,” she mumbled.

”Gin, c’mon, love. We have lots to do,” the voice said urgently. The warm touch became insistent as it rolled her
onto her back. ”C’mon, sleepyhead.” Her eyelids fluttered and opened ever so slowly and blinked, adjusting to
the light. ”Ah, there she is. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” said the kind voice. ”I think I’m in love.”

”Harry? Harry,” she yawned sleepily as the warm hands caressed a freckled cheek. ”Ah, yes. The handsomest
man I’ve ever seen,” she smiled, stretching. ”I am in love.” Handsomest. Is that even a word?

Harry leaned down and kissed her gently. ”Your mum’s got breakfast ready,” he whispered into her neck, "and
then we’re off.”

Ginny rose from the bed and threw her arms over her head, stretching and groaning. She opened her dresser to

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retrieve fresh clothes, then made for the loo for a shower before heading down the stairs for a quick bite
and...Harry.

”We’re off, then.” Harry took her hand and led her toward the door.

”Don’t be long, now. And Harry, don’t let those Gringotts Goblins push you around,” Molly called.

”I won’t, Mrs Weasley. We won’t be long,” Harry assured her. I hope.”C’mon, Gin. We’re running late,” he said,
glancing at the clock.

They hurried to the edge of the yard past the new protective wards that Bill, Charlie, and Mr Weasley had raised
around the Burrow. Harry took Ginny into his arms, held her close, turned down, and...pop! They Disapparated.

The first thing Harry noticed upon arrival in Diagon Alley was that it looked so much brighter than it had only
days before. Shops had reopened, some of them new to Diagon Alley, and laughter filled the air as people
greeted one another with hugs and handshakes as they became reacquainted. The pall that hung over the place
had evaporated and the excitement Harry had so associated with the wonder of Diagon Alley had returned once
again.

Harry and Ginny hadn’t given it much thought, but today was the first time they’d ventured out in public since
the battle, with the exception of a few funerals and memorials. By now, Harry was used to being stared at, but
he tended to shy away from hero worship. He was uncomfortable with the comments about his being the
Saviour-of-the-Wizarding-World. This was all uncharted territory for Ginny, so he twined his fingers with hers,
almost painfully, to keep her close. They politely returned simple greetings and acknowledged praise for having
destroyed the Dark Lord.
By the time they arrived at the steps of Gringotts Wizarding Bank, quite a crowd of well-wishers had gathered
around them. Ginny seemed to be taking it all in stride, but Harry became increasingly nervous. He felt gratified
that any trace of the destruction left by their exodus on the dragon’s back had been cleared away and repairs
made to the building and the street outside. Harry excused them through the crowd to the great doors.

”Well, here we are,” he sighed, trying to work up his nerve.

”Yes. Here we are. Are you ready for this,” she asked with a determined look in her eyes.

”I guess there’s just nothing for it. Let’s go,” he said resignedly and pulled the door open.

Unlike the people in Diagon Alley, the Goblins at Gringotts were less than pleased to see Harry. He intended to
go to his vault but realised he needed to make peace with the Goblins, first. He asked for a supervisor, who
appeared almost instantly and led them to a side office.

”I’ll just wait here, shall I,” Ginny whispered to Harry as she made to break his grip on her hand.

”No. Please. Come in with me. This concerns you as much as it concerns me,” he said, pulling her back to his
side.

”But Harry—” she stammered as she look at the emotionless face of the Goblin.

”Please stay with me,” he insisted.

Ginny searched the Goblin’s face for any sign of protest. Seeing none, she agreed. The Goblin ushered them into
the office and bade them sit. I just can’t resist those eyes of his.

"You are not welcome here," the Goblin said, perching himself on a high chair behind a desk.

Refusing to be intimidated, Harry drew himself up confidently and looked straight at the Goblin. ”Let me ask you

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something. What would the Wizarding world think if I closed my account here and gave a statement about it to
every Wizarding publication in the country?"

The Goblin peered suspiciously at Harry. ”I'm listening, Mr Potter..."

"I have no wish to use my fame to harm Gringotts’ reputation, but I’m sure we can agree that I would be able
to."

"True..."

"Can we agree, then, that it is in our mutual interest that I remain a customer at Gringotts?"

The Goblin considered his answer for a moment. "We have an agreement. Allow me, on behalf of Gringotts, to
apologize for the behavior of our staff when you came in, Mr Potter. Are you here for your vaults?”

”Vaults,” Harry asked, a bit puzzled. ”I know of only one that’s mine.”
”I see. Well, Mr Potter, the vault you have had access to thus far contains that which your parents left for you to
use for school and other needs prior to your coming of age. Now that you are of age, you have access to the
Potter vault. In addition to a considerable amount of gold, it contains heirloom jewelry, real estate deeds,
including the one in Godric’s Hollow, and several books.”
There’s loads of gold in that vault and now they tell me that there’s an additional Potter vault that’s mine, too?
Harry looked over at Ginny, who only blinked back at him.

”And coming of age also gives you access to the Black family vault, according to the will of Sirius Black.”

”There are a few documents that you must sign to take possession of the vaults and another one that affirms
that you have received any and all information concerning them. Then, if you wish, I shall take you to visit
them,” the Goblin said in a very business-like manner.

Harry read through and signed the necessary parchments. He and Ginny rose to board a rail car that would take
them on a wild ride through the labyrinth of tunnels leading to his vaults.

”I have no idea what’s in those vaults,” Harry told Ginny. ”I’ll be just as surprised as you, won’t I,” he smiled.

The rail car clattered and careened along the rickety track that led to the vaults below Gringotts. It finally
slowed as it approached Harry’s personal vault and stopped directly in front of it.

”All of this is yours,” Ginny asked with a tremor in her voice.

” I guess my parents wanted to make sure I would afford school even if costs went up.”

”Even after Dad's promotion, this is a lot more than our entire family has,” she confessed.

Harry’s stomach flipped over. She’s shaking like a leaf. This has got to be quite a shock for her. He knew how
tough life was for the Weasleys, financially speaking, and he always felt bad about it. Through the years, he’d
often thought how he’d gladly share every last Knut with them, knowing they’d never take it. ”Actually, I'd
rather think of it as ours,” Harry whispered, gazing into her eyes.

”Harry...I couldn’t,” she protested weakly.

”Ginny, I love you. This...this means nothing without someone to share it with, and for me, that someone is you,
Gin. Please let me share this with you, because you are all I’ll ever need.” He drew her into a tight embrace and
held her, caressing her back until her trembling quieted.

”Harry this is all just so...”

”I know. C’mon! Let’s have a look, shall we?” He bit his lower lip and nodded encouragement. Ginny returned
his nod, took his hand and they entered the vault.

Harry stuffed a couple of handfuls of Galleons into a pouch and tucked it away in his robes. Then he looked
around for what he had actually come for, something he had spied during a previous visit but never touched.

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His eyes rested on a tiny box sitting in a far corner. There it is! Someone must have placed it there early on
after his parents’ death to make sure Harry could find it.

Making sure Ginny was completely distracted, he opened a small black-velvet-covered box, revealing his
mother’s engagement ring—a square-cut emerald set in fine gold. His father must have wanted a stone that
matched his mother’s eyes. Harry smiled to himself, placed the ring back into the box, and slipped it into his
pocket.

As soon as they stepped back onto the step, the Goblin sealed the vault. They all climbed back into the car and
rattled off to the Potter family vault. The Goblin ran his hand over the door to open the door. Harry made sure
Ginny could enter it with him before he took her hand to pull her inside. ”I'm not sure I could get through this
without you,” Harry said.

”I'm here, Harry, right by your side, the only place I ever want to be.”

This vault was huge. Inside, they found yet more gold, but also other valuables and family heirlooms.

”Blimey,” was all Harry could say. ”What am I going to do with all of this? There’s gold enough here for three or
four lifetimes!”

”Harry, did you have any idea your family was this wealthy,” she asked him, awestruck.

”Not a clue, Gin. Seriously, I didn’t even know about my personal vault until Hagrid brought me here before first
year, so learning about this one comes as a complete surprise to me,” he confessed looking around. All at once,
something caught his eye. A small book lay on top of a wooden box all by itself. He released Ginny, walked over
to it, and picked it up. He felt an overpowering compulsion to open it. Lily Evans’ Diary. He fanned the pages
until a letter fell out.

Apparently, the diary had been his mother's from her seventh year at Hogwarts, and it contained entries dating
from then until her death about four years later. The envelope said, To Harry. He tucked the letter back into the
diary and shoved it into his robes with the ring. He took Ginny’s hand and they left the vault to return to the
rail car that would take them to their last destination.

At last, they arrived at the Black family vault. This one dwarfed the other two, both in size and in wealth. There
was a vast collection of books that would drop Hermione firmly on Cloud Nine, jewels, rare paintings, and piles
upon gargantuan piles of Galleons. This was entirely too much for them. Harry couldn’t breathe and Ginny
began to shake again. Rather than have a medical emergency right there under Gringotts, Harry exited the
vault and took a couple of deep breaths. He helped Ginny back into the cart and then looked at the grinning
Goblin.

”Is there a summary of what I own?”

The Goblin gave him a parchment. Harry and Ginny read it. Harry blushed when as the document revealed that
his fortune in Galleons totaled approximately 20 million, with perhaps another 10 million in property and
estates. ”You do own the vaults of two old Wizarding families, Mr Potter. Don't look so surprised,” the Goblin told
him.

Harry looked at Ginny. ”I didn't know. I swear I didn’t,” Harry said and blushed.

”Harry, don't be embarrassed. You haven't done anything wrong,” she assured him as she took his hand and
stroked it.

”It's just that I didn't earn this. It was just given to me.”

”I think I want to go back home and go through all of this with Bill some day. Just seeing it is enough for now. I
need time to take it all in and process it,” Harry said.

”I think that’s a very good idea, love. Bill can help you sort it all out,” she agreed.

Harry took a few deep breaths and turned to the Goblin. ”I wish the gold in my old vault to be transferred to my
godson, Teddy Lupin. Until he is of age it is to be governed by me, Ginny, and Andromeda Tonks.” He looked at

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Ginny. ”Unless you don't want to.”

”That would be very kind, Harry.”

”Teddy has lost his parents. The least I can do with all of this... ” Harry said pointing at the parchment with the
summary of his fortune. ”... is make sure there are Galleons enough to raise him. I promised Andromeda that I
intend to keep that promise.”

The Goblin nodded and assured Harry that the proper documents would be prepared and sent by owl for his
signature within the next few business days. I’ll definitely need Bill for this one.

With Harry’s financial affairs set in order, he and Ginny left the building and stepped out into the afternoon
sun. The crowd that had followed them had long-since dissipated, so they clasped hands and headed back toward
the Leaky Cauldron. Harry didn’t speak and Ginny didn’t try to persuade him to. She just held his hand as they
walked. Harry stopped, took Ginny in his arms, turned and they were gone.

”Harry, dear, what’s troubling you,” Molly asked, placing a cup of tea in front of him.

”Is it the vaults, still,” Ginny asked, standing behind him to massage the tense muscles in his shoulders.

”Yes and no. It’s this letter I found in my mum’s diary. I want to read it, but...” Harry shook his head.

”Do you want me to read it to you,” Molly asked, her face full of concern.

”You are the closest I ever had to a mother, Mrs Weasley. Yes, please read the letter.”

Ginny ceased massaging Harry’s shoulders and took a seat next to him, cuddling up close. Across the table,
Molly opened the letter and began to read:
”Dear Harry,
I find it difficult to write this letter. I know you are of age since you’re reading it. I am Sirius Black and I am your
godfather, in case no one has told you about me. At the time of this writing, your parents, my closest friends,
have just been murdered. I came across your mother's diary, and as your godfather, the Goblins have allowed
me to place it here in your family vault. I wanted to make sure you got it.
My wish, as I write this, is that I will be able to raise you as my own son, or at least be a part of your life.
However, if you’re reading this letter without me, my wish that we might enter this vault together hasn't come
true. In fact, I fear that if you’re reading this letter without me, I am dead. I only hope that we got to know each
other, and that we got to know each other well.
Your dad and I are...were...best friends and your mother were dear to me. They loved you very much and died
protecting you. There's so much I would like to write, but I’m hoping that there will be time to tell you everything
in person.
Your godfather,
Sirius Black”

Harry clung to every word Sirius wrote, and cried into Ginny’s neck when Molly finished reading it. Ginny held
him close and pressed small kisses all along his forehead and into his unruly raven locks.

”Harry, love. Are you okay,” Ginny asked in a placating tone.

Harry nodded. ”I'm fine now,” he said wiping his face with a napkin Molly had passed him. He picked up the
diary and made to leave the table. ”Thanks, Mrs Weasley.” She nodded and handed the letter back to him.

”Want to read with me,” Harry asked.

”Let’s go up to my room where it’s...quiet,” she suggested, shifting her eyes toward the kitchen.

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”Mum, we’re going upstairs to read,” Ginny called to Molly.

”Leave the door open,” Molly warned.

Ginny sighed in mild frustration. ”Yes, Mum.”

Ginny led Harry up the stairs to her room, where they crawled onto the bed and stretched out, leans against the
head board. Ginny rested her head on Harry’s shoulder as he opened his mother’s diary to the first entry:
“1 September 1977
First day of my final year at Hogwarts. I don't know how I feel about being back. I love Hogwarts and I am very
proud to be Head Girl. However...guess who's been made Head Boy? James blessed Potter. By Merlin's beard,
how can that mischievous prankster be Head Boy? He wasn’t even a Prefect!
As far as I know, Potter has two talents—Quidditch and mischief. And what’s more, all last year he bugged me all
the time asking for a date. Now I’ll have to work with him! Well then, he must take responsibility. I have to
wonder if he even knows the meaning of the word! If you ask me, Remus Lupin would have been the better
choice! At least he tries to be decent. Why he hangs around with Potter and Sirius Black is a mystery to me.
I will never understand why the other girls are so in awe that I will have to spend time with him. They think he's
funny and cute; I think he’s an arrogant toe rag. Okay, maybe not a toe rag, but he is obnoxious! I suppose if
there’s one good thing to say about James Potter, I must admit that he is sort of...cute...”

”Obnoxious and cute,” Harry snickered. ”Am I obnoxious,” he asked Ginny with a sly smile.

”And cute...but never arrogant. Keep reading,” she giggled giving him a peck on the cheek.

”You humble servant, milady,” Harry intoned majestically, and then continued to read aloud:
2 September 1977
Merlin’s pants! I'm so frustrated, I’d like to curse something, or rather, someone. A certain Mr James Potter to
be exact. Only the second day of school and he’s at it already! He asked me for a date. 'Not a snowball's chance
in a dragon's cave,' I told him, and added that I'd rather date a werewolf. He just smiled. (His smile makes him
annoyingly cute.) He said that he could indeed arrange a date with a werewolf for me, but cautioned that there
would be an express lack of romance during a walk in the moonlight. Git!
He admitted that he had been somewhat persistent last year, but if I agreed to go on one date with him, he
would leave it up to me to ask him for a second. I was that close to cursing him on the spot. I admit he has
charm and he's aware of it. I wanted to tell him ’no,’ but heard myself say ’yes.’ Can you believe it? I agreed to
go on a date with James Potter! Well I guess I will have to get it over with. And if he even thinks of asking me
again I’ll curse him. It would even be worth a detention. I’m doomed...”

”That is so sweet,” Ginny said dreamily. “She’s so in love with him.”

Harry looked at Ginny incredulously. ”In love with him! She wanted to curse him! I hope you never love me that
much,” Harry argued, trying to stifle a laugh.

”She didn't want to admit it,” Ginny explained. ”But she was crazy about him.”

”I guess there are things about girls I don't understand,” Harry admitted. ”But still...it’s incredible to read my
mother's words.”

”Well, it took you six years to figure out about me,” Ginny smiled and kissed him.

”What can I say? I was a first-class toe rag,” Harry joked.


”No, you were a first-class prat. Read,” she directed.

”As you wish,” he said softly and kissed her hand.

They skipped ahead until they found the Lily’s account of her first date with James.
”October 1st,
Hogsmeade weekend. I had never dreaded a Hogsmeade weekend more. This was the day of my date with
James. My roommates encouraged me, telling me what to wear, offering me perfume spiked with love potion... I
chose school robes and left for the Entrance Hall. There he was. My heart actually skipped a beat. He seemed
more vulnerable without Sirius, Remus and Peter around him. He gave me one of those charming smiles of his as
I came down the stairs toward him. I was actually nervous! He offered his arm, I took it, and we left.

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I must say, he can behave himself when he has to. He acted the perfect gentleman. It was a beautiful day. By
noon, I found myself forgetting that it was James Potter I was on a date with. Who was this kind, thoughtful,
empathic and... yes, cute... wizard by my side and what had he done with that childish git, James Potter? I hate
to admit it, but he showed me a wonderful time.
Returning to school, I began worry about how this date would end. Normally, a girl just leaves it up to the boy to
ask for another date, but James had already promised he would leave it up to me. I should be glad I survived the
day, and even having had a good time, I’d never have to worry about James Potter again. But as we walked
toward the castle gates, I decided I really wanted to have another day like this one. But that means I have to
actually ask—yes, that’s right—ask James Potter for a second date. That urge to curse him felt very appealing
again.
At the gates, we faced each other and I found myself under the gaze of my perfect date. I must have been
confunded or something because the next thing I did was step closer to him and pout my mouth. I actually
wanted him to kiss me! He hesitated, as if he wanted to make sure it was all right. I could have—I should
have—walked away, but in that moment, I just wanted my most perfect date to end in the most perfect way.
Yes, I was sure. I wanted this wonderful gentleman to kiss me. And he did. He took me into his arms ever so
gently and I immediately melted like butter in a hot skillet. I don't know how long it lasted, but it was the perfect
kiss...and it left me wanting more. I know...I’ve written 'perfect' too many times today, but there’s simply no
other way to describe it.
I held onto his arm all the way back to the castle. He pushed that monstrous door open for me and ushered me
inside with his hand on the small of my back. It gave me chills! He escorted me safely to Gryffindor Tower. Once
inside, he kissed me again, but ever so softly. We broke apart and we said good night at the foot of the stairs
leading to my dormitory. Now I have to figure out how to face him next time I see him... and how to face my
roommates.”

”That’s so romantic.” Ginny sighed.

”Yeah, my dad was pretty smooth, wasn’t he,” Harry said with a wisp of a smile.

”Well, now I know where you got it,” she replied as she snuggled closer to him.
”Let's see what happened next, shall we?”
”3 October 1977
I couldn’t write anything yesterday. I can't get that date out of my head...or that kiss. I can almost feel it
lingering there. Then I think of who gave it to me. I couldn’t focus on today's lesson in Potions. I couldn’t
concentrate! I made a horrible mess when I didn't pay attention to my cauldron. They say Potions class has been
moved to another classroom temporarily, as they try to remove the stench.
Professor Slughorn, bless him, decided against detention, nor did he deduct house points. Sirius asked me how I
had managed that ’brilliant’ potion. He said I had created something that far outstripped the dung bomb and was
impressed that I got away with a stunt like that in class. Sirius Black finds humour in practically everything.
The girls in the dorm giggled when I walked in. They all joined in a sing-song chorus, 'Lily’s in love with James'. I
threw a pillow at them. In love? Hardly! Yes, I enjoyed the date, yes, he was a gentleman. And then that
kiss...that was something, but love? What shall I do? For two days I haven’t been able to get that date out of my
head. I can't get that kiss out of my head. I can't get him out of my head. Am I obsessing?
I must admit, I’ve never felt like this. I have to find him and either curse him or kiss him again. To make
absolutely sure I can't be in love with him, I should definitely hesitate to kiss him with no second thoughts about
cursing him. I think they practice Quidditch for another hour before they get back here. I just can't hold off until
tomorrow. More later.
Now I’ve done it! I may never be able to show my face in public again! I left for the common room so I could be
there when the team came in from Quidditch practice. This would be the first time I saw him since Saturday,
except for class. They came in all muddy and sweaty from practice and there he was (what a body!) Our eyes
met almost instantly. I immediately felt the same way I did right before he kissed me the other night. I had to
restrain myself from running straight across the common room and throwing myself at his head. That's when it
hit me. I am in love with James Potter! That's why I can’t stop thinking about him!
I've had some crushes, but this is different. 'I'm in love...' so far so good '... with James Potter.' Excitement
exploded inside me and the strong urge to kiss him took over again. I had to say or do something! Anyway, as
the boys were about to leave for their dorm, I asked if I could have a word with the Head Boy. The others left for
their dorm, leaving just the two of us in the common room—alone! My heart beat faster as I thanked him for a
wonderful date. He smiled in that charming way of his and said it had been his pleasure. Then I buried my ego
and thanked him for the most wonderful kiss I'd ever got. That's when I found my arms sliding across his
muscular chest working their way around his neck. I asked him for another date.
He didn't gloat, he didn't say 'I told you so,' or anything one might have expected from ’Arrogant James Potter.’
He just looked into my eyes and told me he would love to go on another date...and suddenly seemed uncertain

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as to what to do next. An all-time first. James Potter unsure of himself. I stood up on my tiptoes, looked him
straight in those dark pools of his and kissed him. It took a moment, but he responded enthusiastically. If our
first kiss was good, this one was fantastic! I’d never done French kissing before! I used to think it was disgusting,
but this was bloody amazing! I felt faint and James gallantly reached out to steady me when we broke the kiss.
I heard myself saying what that kiss told me to be true. 'I love you James. I don't know how you did it to me, but
I love you.' Still no gloating, but instead he said the most beautiful words I’d ever hear, 'Lily, I’ve always loved
you'. He took me in his arms and held me there in against his muddy Quidditch uniform. I felt so safe, so... I
don’t know what, but I could have stood there like that forever. But it was getting late, so we kissed goodnight
(neither of us wanting to part, of course) and feeling pleasantly confused, I returned to my dorm happier than I
ever have been.
Crap! Severus will hate me, my roommates will remind me of every reason I ever came up with to turn James
down for dates, and I don’t want to know how badly Sirius will take the mickey out of me...us. Of course, Remus
doesn’t say much and Peter goes along with whatever James and Sirius do, so... Tomorrow will be my first full
day as James Potter's girlfriend! By Merlin, it’s brilliant!”

Harry had tears in his eyes reading about how his mother and father came to be.

Ginny resisted a strong urge to take a leaf out of Lily Evans’ book and pull her son down into a kiss like that.
Instead, she held back, not wanting to come on too strong. ”Are you okay to continue,” she asked biting her
bottom lip.
She’s so beautiful when she does that. ”Yes, I’m okay. Let's see what happened tomorrow.”
“4 October
By noon it was all over the school. The Head Boy and Head Girl are an item. Lessons went much better today,
but I find myself daydreaming a lot. At least there’ve been no explosions and no stench.
After classes, I wanted to be with James. I caught up with him on the stairs heading back to the common room.
He was, of course, with the Marauders, as they call themselves. I called after him and the four of them stopped
and turned around. He approached me while other three waited up the stairs. He said he hadn’t told anyone
about us. I told him that I loved him and I didn't care that the entire school knew. If they knew, it would be so
much easier to snog. Then I kissed him right and proper in front of them all and I didn’t give a hang what any of
them thought.
We headed for the common room, the infamous Marauders and me. Sirius reminded me that he still wanted to
know how to do that potion. I told him he had to go on a date with James, let him kiss the lips off him, and then
try to brew a standard healing potion. That shut him up! I’m in!
The most interesting part of the day was when I happily entered the Great Hall for dinner, hand in hand with
James, and Severus saw us. Of course he must have heard the rumour, but I could tell he was hurt. I must tell
him I'm still his friend, but nothing can change my feelings for James Potter.”

Harry closed the diary. He didn't say anything for a long time. He considered his mother’s words, turning them
over and over in his mind. He only hoped Ginny loved him, like that.

”Gin?

”Yes.”

”Was it like that for you...I mean when we kissed that first time in the common room last year,” he asked.

”In the common room, and each and every time since then,” she replied, smoothing a lock of raven unruliness.

”I’ve only just realised over the past week that I’ve loved you since the whole Chamber of Secrets thing,” Harry
admitted. ”When I saw you lying on that cold stone floor with that damned book in your hands...you were like
ice, Gin. I begged you to please not be dead. I couldn’t bear...I didn’t know...” Harry broke.

”Shhh. It’s over now. We’re here, together, and we’re safe,” Ginny whispered as she took his tear-streaked face
in her hands and kissed him kindly and gently. Harry responded in kind. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip
and she parted her lips to allow him access. He pulled her into his lap and enveloped her in the strength of his
arms. Ginny threw her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, pouring all of her love and passion into it.

”Ginny,” Harry moaned as he ran his hands under the hem of her shirt and touched the bare skin of her back.

Shockwaves shot through her body as his hands traveled from her back to her stomach. She arched her hips
forward as she moaned his name into his mouth. In a trice, she twisted and pulled him down on top of her

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across the bed and slid her hands up under his shirt. She dragged her fingernails lightly up and down the skin of
his back as he caressed her bare stomach.

Harry trailed kisses from her mouth, down her neck, and over her throat as she moaned in agonised
pleasure. Her hands left his back and slid down just inside the waistband of his jeans. She was about to reach
forward when Harry broke away suddenly and rolled off her. ”We can’t do this, Gin. We’ve almost gone too far
again. It’s not right,” he panted.

”I know, Harry, but you feel so good,” she half-whined between breaths.

”You do too, Love, but I won’t take advantage of you under your parents’ roof,” he insisted.

”You can’t take advantage of me since I’m a willing participant, but I know what you mean,” she replied.

”I suppose we’d better head down, don’t you? I’m sure supper’s about ready and we’ve been up here a long
time,” Harry said as he stood and straightened his clothes.

Ginny righted her clothes and tied back her hair so it didn’t look quite so mussed. ”After you,” she said as they
stepped out onto the landing.

Ron had thrown himself wholeheartedly into helping George ready the shop in Diagon Alley for business. He
had to do something with himself and busy work was just the therapy he needed. Hermione had gone off to
Australia to locate her parents and bring them home, promising to be back in two weeks at the latest.
The first few days without her had found him moping around the house in a fog as if he’d lost his best friend. He
missed Hermione terribly, becoming sullen and edgy.
”He misses Hermione, doesn’t he,” Arthur observed.
”I think so. He wanted to go to Australia with her, but she told him she needed to do this by herself,” Molly said.
”There was a bit of a row.” Bright green flame belched out of the fireplace.
Molly rose from the table to embrace her son. ”George! Have you eaten yet,” she asked checking him over.
”I could do with a bite,” he answered, kissing her on the cheek. He sat down at the table with his parents.
”What’s going on,” he asked taking his place at the table.
”Ron. We’re worried,” Molly said.
”Don’t tell me. Ickle Ronnikins is pining, is he?”
”Stop calling me Ickle Ronnikins!”
”Ron, good morning, dear. Breakfast,” his mother offered, ushering him to the table.
”Just coffee, thanks,” he sighed and plopped down next to his brother.
”Hmm, gone off his feed, too. Serious business, I’d say,” quipped George.
”Shut it, you,” Ron growled.
”Sounds to me like you could do with a distraction, little bro, and I know just the thing,” George smiled.
”Oh and what’s that,” Ron asked sardonically, pouring a bit of milk into his cup.
”Well... I could use an extra pair of hands at the shop tidying and restocking. I’d like to be able to open by the
end of July.”
Ron considered the option for a few minutes. His mother watched him expectantly as his father returned to his
paper.
”All right, I’ll do it,” Ron decided. ”When do you need me?”
”Pack a kit and you can go back with me this morning if you like. You can kip with me in the upstairs flat,” George
answered.
”Well then, that’s settled,” Molly said brightly. ”More tea, George,” she asked lifting the pot.
”None for me, Mum,” he replied. ”Ron and I have loads to do.”
A few minutes later, Ron bounded down the stairs with his rucksack over his shoulder. He had an air of purpose
about him and the emptiness in his eyes seemed to have diminished.
”Ready when you are, George,” he said as he leaned over and kissed his mother. ”Bye, Mum. Bye, Dad,” he
said.
George and Ron strode over to the fireplace, took a handful of Floo powder, tossed it into the flames and said,
‘Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes,’ and disappeared with a whoosh!

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Hermione returned ten days later, within two weeks, as promised. Molly greeted her with one of her signature
bone-crushing hugs and the perfunctory inspection of her overall well-being. She flew into Harry’s arms and he
picked her up and spun her around.

”Welcome home, Hermione,” he grinned, setting her down and placing a brotherly kiss on her flushed cheek.
”We’ve missed you,” he said.

”Ginny,” Hermione cried and hugged her friend. ”Harry’s been treating you right, yeah,” she asked with a wicked
smile.

”Oh yeah,” Ginny replied with an equally wicked smile.

The two girls giggled conspiratorially as Hermione looked around. Her face fell a little, not finding Ron
there. ”W-where’s Ron,” she asked no one in particular.

”He’s in Diagon Alley helping George get the shop ready, dear,” Molly replied. ”Perhaps you might want to send
an owl,” she smiled.

”You could always send your otter, you know,” suggested Harry. ”It’d be quicker.”

Hermione had no sooner sent her message to Ron, when he stepped out of the fireplace with a Cheshire grin.
Hermione ran to him, beaming as he took his characteristic long strides toward her and scooped her up in his
arms.

”Welcome home, ’Mione,” he said as he buried his face in her hair. He kissed her longingly, taking her breath
away. Suddenly, the rest of the world just melted away. ”I missed you so much,” he confessed, as he caressed
her face and hair. He then pulled her into a tight embrace.

”Mmmm, maybe I should go away and come back again,” she joked, ”if I’m to receive welcomes such as this
one,” she smiled dizzily as she raised her face for another kiss. Ron gladly obliged.

Ahem.
Red-faced and grinning, Ron and Hermione broke apart. ”Sorry,” they said together. Everyone had a good laugh
as they sat down to the lunch Molly had been preparing when Hermione arrived.

”Tuck in, dears. I’m so glad we’re all together again,” Molly said with eyes twinkling.

Between bites, Hermione talked about the Australia, its people, the odd animals, and overall laid-back
atmosphere that permeate that continent.

”They think we English are rather uptight,” she explained. ”I mean, their Wizarding community keep our secrets
and all, but they’re just less paranoid about it. They interact with the Muggle community rather nicely,
actually.”

”How so,” Molly asked.

”Well, they live in the same neighborhoods, for the most part, and they share the same beaches and many of
them work together at their jobs. Of course, they have specialized Wizarding professions, such as Aurors and
Healers, but otherwise, they’re pretty copacetic on the whole,” Hermione said brightly.

”We could take a leaf out of their book,” Ginny said thoughtfully. ”And they’re right. We are rather uptight,
aren’t we,” she snickered.

”Ginny, we really don’t have much choice,” Harry countered. ”There are more of us in a smaller area in Britain
than a larger country like Australia. After all, Australia is technically an entire continent,” he reminded her.

”I suppose, but still...it would be nice to not have to be so careful all the time.”

”I don’t know,” Harry smiled. ”I kind of like having you mostly to myself,” Harry said as he wrapped an arm
around her waist and kissed her temple.

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”Enough, you two,” Molly scolded. ”So you found them all right then, your parents,” she asked Hermione.

”Oh yes. It took several days, but I finally found them and put them right. They were a bit confused at first, but
they’re fine now. They’re going to stay on a month or so longer to put their affairs in order, but then they’ll
return to England,” she sighed. ”I had to drop by the house to confund the Muggle family there into deciding to
move closer to a relative,” she confessed, a little embarrassed.

When they finished eating, Ron Flooed George to tell him he wouldn’t be back for the rest of the day due to
Hermione’s return, and that he would spend that night at the Burrow to catch up.

”Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” George chuckled.

”I don’t think I’d want to do anything you’d do,” Ron replied with a scowl. ”Mum, we’ll be out in the back
garden,” he called as the four friends made for the door.

”All right, dears,” Molly called. ”Have fun!”

”Thanks, Mum,” Ron said as he placed his hand on Hermione’s back and guided her out the door behind Harry
and Ginny.

”The pond,” Ginny asked, cocking her head.

”The pond,” the others agreed in unison.

Harry conjured a rather large quilt that they spread out on the grass under the big willow tree. They all settled
down and made themselves comfortable.

Harry leaned back and drew his knees up so Ginny could tuck herself between them. He nuzzled her neck and
clasped his hands around her middle. ”All right, Gin,” he mumbled into her hair.

”Mm hmm,” she said, leaning her head into his chest.

Ron sat cross-legged with Hermione’s bushy head in his lap. He took one of her hands and brought it to his lips.
”Nice tan, ’Mione,” he complimented her. Want to show me your tan lines?

”It’s very sunny in Australia. Just about everyone is tanned,” she said smiling up at him, ”except redheads.
Ginger Muggles slather themselves with sun block until the entire beach smells of aloe and cocoa butter,” she
laughed nervously.

There was a few moments’ silence. ”Hermione, how did it really go,” Harry asked suspiciously. He knew her well
enough to know when her laughter and attempts and lighthearted conversation sounded forced.

Hermione paused for a few moments and sighed. "We have some issues to work out. I mean, they understand
why I did it, but it still took its toll," she said.

"Do you want to talk about it," Ron asked gently as his thumb traced circles in the palm of the hand he held in
his. Hermione glanced up at Ron as tears began to well up in her eyes. Seeing this, Harry nudged Ginny in a
manner of making to leave.

"Yes, but Harry... I want you and Ginny to stay," she said as she took hold of Ginny’s arm to keep her from
rising. Harry had already stood up. ”Harry, would you mind casting a Muffliato... just in case,” she asked. ”I
don’t want this to go any further.”

Harry rose and stepped off a light ward and then cast the charm. When he returned to his place against the tree,
Ginny settled back in and Hermione told them what happened in Australia.

"I had no problem finding where they lived, but it was very strange knocking on their door, knowing my own
parents wouldn’t recognise me. I’ve missed them so much that I had to restrain myself from jumping into my
father’s arms when he answered the door.” Hermione wiped away the tears that had begun to fall from the
corners of her eyes with her free hand.

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”I had to come up with a valid reason for my being there, so I told him I had important news for him and his
wife. At first, I didn’t think they’d go for it, but after only a moment’s hesitation, Dad invited me in. Once we sat
down in the lounge, I reversed their altered memories.” Hermione’s voice broke with a sob causing her to stop
and compose herself. The others stole concerned looks at one another and tried to will their support to her.

”The first thing my dad asked me was where they were and how long they’d been there. I told them about our
quest last year and my decision to alter their memories to protect them. They were furious that I had done it
without asking their permission. They accused you, Ron and Harry, of having had a bad influence on me! They
even accused your brothers, Ron!” Hermione burst into tears and buried her face in the crook of Ron’s knee,
wrapping her arms around his leg.

”It’s okay, ’Mione. Don’t cry,” Ron soothed. Help me, he mouthed to Harry.

Harry decided to go for a bit of humour in hopes of coaxing a smile from Hermione so she could pull herself
together. ”Well Ron, you said yourself in first year that we’d had a bad influence on her when she set out on a
search for Nicolas Flamel,” he remembered, scratching the back of his head. ”I believe she encouraged us to visit
the restricted section of the library over Christmas break.”

”A search for Nicolas Flamel? What’s there to search? He’s been all over the Chocolate Frog cards for years,”
Ginny reminded them as if they’d lost their minds.

”We know that now, Ginny, but we... oh never mind. I’ll tell you about it later,” Harry said, shaking his
disheveled raven head.

Hermione had managed to compose herself and continued her tale. ”By now I was crying hysterically, trying to
make them understand just how ruthless Voldemort was and that they wouldn't have stood a chance against him
if he’d decided to come after them. My dad went mental, saying he was quite capable of defending his home. I
told him to try to defend himself against me and drew my wand."

"What," Ron asked her in alarm.

"It wasn't pretty. While Mum tried to calm us down, Dad kept yelling really horrible things. I had about reached
the end of my tether when I told him point blank to do his best against me. Then I transfigured him to a mouse
and pretty much did what Moody—er—Crouch Jr did to Malfoy that day in fourth year. And then..." Hermione
stopped, ashamed of herself.

”Hermione, what did you do,” Ron demanded.

"Well, I cast the Imperius curse at him and had him dancing on the table." She couldn’t help but smile a little.

"Your own dad," Harry asked, trying to stifle a smirk.

”I was so angry, but I had to make him understand... and technically he was a still a mouse, so... After I put
him right, he stared at me. He looked so afraid, so I told him I loved him far too much to be able to really hurt
him. But I also wanted to impress upon him—upon both of them—that my little demonstration was nothing
compared to what Voldemort would have done to them, assuring him that Voldemort would have gleefully driven
him and Mum insane.

They ultimately came to understand that it was the only way I could protect them, but still they’re still unhappy
that I didn't explain and get their permission first. The next day I told them that I had a boyfriend and who that
boyfriend is. They took it surprisingly well, especially after Dad’s tirade against you," she said, finally smiling
again. Hermione took Ron’s hand and squeezed it. And nothing will ever come between us.

"Considering that boyfriend turned out to be that bad-influence Weasley boy," Ginny smiled. They all had a
tension-breaking laugh.

Hermione sighed again, though not sadly and said, "There’s still a lot of healing to go, but they now understand
that they should be happy we’re all still alive and they are. I reminded them how Harry lost his parents in the
first war and how Teddy lost his in this one. I also told them about Fred, Ron. They send their condolences,” she
said, kissing his hand.

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In a distant cottage, an evil-looking woman sat impatiently waiting for a report. There was a knock at the door
and a man entered.

”Let's hear it,” she said coldly.

”Harry Potter is well-protected. There is little or no chance of getting to him,” the man said nervously.

”I don't want to kill Potter, you idiot, but I do want him to suffer,” the woman snapped. ”He destroyed our world,
so we shall destroy his.”

”Splendid. Are we going after his woman, then?”

The witch sighed and rolled her eyes. ”No, we are not going after Potter's woman. She's as protected as he is
and a powerful witch in her own right. You know, she duelled Bellatrix. All we would accomplish doing that would
be to win ourselves an extended stay at Hotel Azkaban. The Dark Lord was a glorious wizard who was defeated
by his own arrogance. Why else would he do something so stupid as to challenge the Ministry, Dumbledore's
Order, and Potter all at once,” she snapped.

”What is your plan,” the wizard asked.

”Harry Potter destroyed our world when he defeated the Dark Lord. His puppet, Kingsley Shacklebolt, controls
the Ministry and he, himself, courts the unthinkable. Do you remember that dear house elf he mentioned? Soon
he will plead for house elves to hold seats on the Wizengamot! No, we must destroy this proposed new world of
his.”

”And how do we do that?”

”I’m glad you asked. We strike at the weakest point, of course. So much the safer for us.”

”Which is...?”

”The filthy Muggles of course! We kill one or two. They are defenseless against us,” she said giggling maniacally.
”Isn't it brilliant?”

”I don't follow.” And I’m not so sure I want to.

”Of course not, because you're not the visionary that I am. I'm not talking about some lowlife from the Muggle
gutters. Oh no. I’m talking one of their precious celebrities. We Apparate into one of those poor Muggle excuses
for a Quidditch pitch—a football stadium, I think it’s called. Muggle Studies wasn't my best subject... We kill the
Muggle celebrity in front of thousands of other Muggles, using spectacular magic. And what do you think would
happen then?”

The wizard looked at the woman and he began to understand. ”The Wizarding world would be exposed! There'd
be no way to contain that many Muggles and alter their memories! We would shock them right back into the
Dark Ages with a terrifying fear of wizards! Brilliant!”

”Of course it is. Harry Potter will live to see all he fought for crumble around him. He can have his life and his
woman all he wants, but he will have to watch his friends suffer, you'll see. From all I’ve read and heard,
nothing tortures Potter more than the thought of anyone he loves in torment.”

”Where and when do we start?”

”When the time is right. Patience. We may only have one chance to succeed and avoid capture.”

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As June melted into July, life seemed to slow down for the Weasleys, most notably, Harry and Ginny. They made
several visits to Grimmauld Place to confer with Kreacher about remodeling it and turning it into a home. Harry
wasn’t exactly sure what that might entail, but Kreacher was keen to help refit it however his master wished. He
even offered to remove Mrs Black’s portrait from the wall in the entryway.

Harry and Ginny also made it a point to spend as much time with Teddy as they could. Andromeda often scolded
them for doing too much, but Harry would hear none of it.

”I promised you that I would be here for him in every sense, including financially,” he said, pressing the key to
the vault he’d set up for Teddy back into her hand. ”I want him to have all the advantages I’d been denied,” he
said, remembering the unnecessary deprivation in which he lived with the Dursleys.

”You didn't have to,” Andromeda said, staring at the figures recorded on the accounting parchment Gringotts
had sent by owl along with the key.

”He's my godson. He's an orphan like me, and the son of one of my father's best friends. I love little Teddy and I
am taking proper responsibility for raising him, and that means more than just spending time with him,” Harry
insisted.

Harry and Ginny thoroughly enjoyed just walking around anonymously through the Muggle parks around
London, pushing Teddy along in a pram. Ginny treasured these moments with Harry and Teddy. How I
desperately love this sweet, sweet man and this darling little boy. Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off Ginny,
especially when she held or played with Teddy. This is so normal and so...right...to have this gorgeous angel
walking next to me pushing this pram.

Usually, they let the Muggles who stopped and spoke to them believe Teddy was their child, for in a way he was.
Many of them complimented Harry and Ginny about how they displayed a maturity far beyond their years. One
such encounter, though, was almost disastrous. Harry had to confund a Muggle lady who’d stopped to admire
Teddy when he changed his hair colour. Harry noticed that casting the spell felt easier than ever before, though
he hadn't practiced much magic except for Apparation lately. But he worried a little about the strength of the
spell. The poor woman would be fine, but as they left, she wished them a Happy Christmas—a clear indication of
a too-strong Confundus charm.

One rare evening that Harry and Ginny found themselves alone together at the Burrow, they were sitting
together on the sofa when Harry went quiet. His usually sparkling eyes had turned dark, his countenance
introspective. Ginny recognised that as a signal that Harry was brooding about something.

”Harry, love, what is it,” she asked as she got up to massage his shoulders.

”Come. Sit down,” he said just above a whisper. He reached inside his jacket and withdrew the Elder Wand. He
turned it over and over again in his fingers, contemplating it.

”Is that...”

”The Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, the Elder Wand. Whichever you prefer, yes,” he answered. ”I had planned
to put this back with Professor Dumbledore. I’m beginning to wonder if this thing has had something to do with
the surge in my magic,” he said and looked at her slightly apprehensive.

”But you’ve been using your Holly wand, Harry,” she said, still staring at the Elder Wand.

”I know. I don't understand it, but that simple Confundus charm I cast at that Muggle lady in the park the other
day nearly landed her in St Mungo's,” Harry said regretfully.

”Harry, if you’re that concerned about it, perhaps you might have a talk with Dad. He might have some thoughts
for you,” she suggested. ”I mean, I know you don’t want to tell anyone else you have it, so just speak
generally,” she said.

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”You think so,” Harry asked her thoughtfully.

”Yeah, I mean it’s worth a try,” she said, kissing his cheek. ”Now, Mr Potter. We have the house to ourselves and
I say we should take advantage of it while we have the chance,” she giggled.

”So we do. I believe, Miss Weasley,” he said with a twinkle in his once-again bright green eyes, ”that you owe
me a shutting up.” She works on me like a Cheering charm.

”All right then,” she said, pulling herself firmly onto his lap, ”shut up and kiss me, you fool.” She giggled again
as he took her in his arms, leaned her into a cradle position, and lowered his face to hers in a gentle but firm
kiss.

Ginny held his face with her free hand. She ran her tongue along Harry’s bottom lip, teasing. As the kiss
deepened, their blood turned to molten lava in their veins. Hands began to roam as tongues danced a passionate
waltz. Pulses quickened and hearts pounded as their hands explored one another’s bodies. Harry’s lips left
Ginny’s mouth, traveling along her neck to her shoulders. She hitched in a breath and slid her hands under
Harry’s shirt to caress the muscles of his chest.

”Ginny,” he moaned. ”My sweet Ginny.” He lifted her jumper up just enough to expose her belly. He caressed it
then moved his hand down to capture her hip. She arched in to him.

”Harry,” she sighed.

Just then, they heard a pop from somewhere near the kitchen, causing Ginny to launch herself off Harry’s lap.
They were able to arrange themselves just as her parents appeared in the lounge.

”Mum! Dad,” Ginny said as innocently as she could. ”Where’ve you been?”

”Your mother met me at the Ministry and we had dinner together,” Arthur replied, slipping an arm around his
wife.’’

”The first date we’ve had in years,” Molly said. ”It was quite fun. Have you two eaten,” she asked.

”Uh...no, actually. We were just...” Harry stammered.

Ginny cut across him. ”I was just about to fix us a couple of sandwiches and some pumpkin juice. I saw some
leftover roast in the cooler earlier.” She stole a guilty look at Harry and winked. ”I’ll go do that, shall I,” she said
airily, walking past her parents toward the kitchen.

”Erm...Mr Weasley, could I... er... have a word,” Harry asked his surrogate father. ”It’s rather important, if you
don’t mind, sir,” he added.

”Of course, Harry,” he replied. ”Is everything all right?”

”Oh...yeah. It’s just important, that’s all.”

”Why don’t I just go and give Ginny a hand, then,” Molly said and walked back toward the kitchen.

”So what can I do for you, Harry,” Arthur asked.

”Well, sir, it’s about something that happened when Ginny and I were in the park with Teddy the other day,”
Harry said nervously.

”Go on...” Arthur said.

”Yes sir. Well, it’s just that Teddy morphed in front of a Muggle lady and I had to confund her. The trouble is that
I nearly put her in St. Mungo’s with it,” Harry said regretfully.

”Well, Harry, I really don’t know what to tell you other than to say you’ve had a sort of ’power surge,’” Arthur
surmised.

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”What should I do,” Harry asked.

”I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Harry. It happens sometimes when we’re emotional or when we’ve been
under a load of stress, and Merlin knows you’ve had your share of stress over these past couple of years,”
Arthur counseled him.

”Yes, sir, that’s true. So nothing to worry about then,” Harry asked hopefully.

”Nothing to worry about,” Arthur assured him.

”Thank you, sir. I appreciate it,” Harry said, shaking Arthur’s hand.

”Anytime, my boy. Anytime.”

”Harry! Come on and eat,” Ginny called from the kitchen.

”Coming, love,” he called back and strode toward the kitchen. He sat down next to her and ate while Molly
joined her husband on the sofa in front of the big fireplace.

”So did you talk to Dad,” Ginny asked, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

”I did, and he says it’s nothing to worry about. That it happens sometimes when magical people are stressed or
emotional,” he replied.

”That makes sense. So...”

”I’m not going to worry about it,” he said resolutely.

A few days later, a Hogwarts owl appeared and delivered four letters. Ginny’s contained the standard seventh
year information and instructions along with the announcement that she had been chosen to captain the
Gryffindor Quidditch Team.

”Good one, Gin,” Harry said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. ”You’ll be brilliant!”

”You’re just saying that because you know it’s true,” she said mockingly.

”Congratulations, Ginny,” said Hermione.

”Yeah, you’ll be great,” said Ron distractedly.

Harry’s, Ron’s, and Hermione’s letters came from Professor McGonagall personally, inviting them to return to
Hogwarts to attend their seventh year and sit their N.E.W.T.s if they so desired, since the war had precluded
them from attending the previous year. They hadn’t given their futures much thought since Kingsley made them
his offer several weeks before.

"Well, I’m going back to school," Hermione said.

"As if there were any doubt," Ron sighed. "But I’m not.”

"You’ve got plans, mate," Harry asked.

"I’m going to stay on with George at the joke shop. We’ve been very busy and we’re getting on famously. I’m
happy with that for now. What about you, Harry?"

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"Ginny and I have talked about it, and I’m going to see Kingsley before making a final decision."

The day after the Hogwarts letters arrived, Molly inadvertently walked in on Ginny and Harry in the throes of a
magnificent snog. She set her basket of clean laundry down and left without a word.

"Are we in trouble," Harry asked looking at a blushing Ginny.

"Probably. We’d better go and talk to her."

"Can I do the talking," Harry asked.

”That’s a good idea. She’s less likely to go spare on you,” Ginny nodded thankfully. ”This is not exactly
something I want to discuss with my mother.”

Squaring their shoulders and putting on brave faces, they joined hands and descended the stairs, where they
found Molly checking up on her knitting.

"Mrs Weasley, can you sit please," Harry asked, feeling rather awkward. Molly sat looking at them with pursed
lips. "Is Mr Weasley here too?"

"I'm here, Harry," he heard Arthur's voice from the kitchen as he entered the room to join them. He took note
of a strained look on his wife’s face. "What’s going on?"
Steady, Harry. You can do this. Harry explained to Arthur that Molly had walked in on him and Ginny snogging.
"I don't know if you understand how deeply I love Ginny."

"Enlighten us," Arthur said with an unreadable expression.

"I guess I’ll start from the beginning. When I got to know all of you, Ginny was Ron's little sister and I liked her
as I liked all of you. You all made me feel as though I was a part of your family. But I guess things started to
change with Ginny after the Chamber of Secrets.” Harry paused and took a deep breath.

”Go on,” Arthur said.

”I had been bitten by the Basilisk when I plunged the sword into its mouth and through the top of its head. As I
destroyed the diary, I was dying from the Basilisk's venom. I don't know if you were aware of that." Harry
waited for them to answer.

Ginny's parents shook their heads. All they’d been told at the time was that Harry had saved Ginny's life. Ron
had told them a few weeks ago about the Basilisk. The precise details about Harry fighting off and killing the
Basilisk at the age of twelve to save Ginny was news to them.

"She opened her eyes and in that moment I felt something like exaggerated relief, knowing she’d live. And then
Fawkes flew down to me and healed the wound with his tears, and saved my life." Molly's usual warm smile
returned and Arthur seemed eager to hear more.

"Over the following years, my feelings for Ginny grew. Since she is Ron's sister, it took me a while to understand
what I felt for her, but during my sixth year we actually dated and started a relationship. At Dumbledore’s
funeral, I decided I had to break it off with her. It was the hardest, most painful thing I ever had to do in my life.
I loved her so much even then, that I couldn’t bear the thought of Tom Riddle targeting and hurting or killing
her to get to me. I couldn’t allow Ginny to be hurt, so I... I let her go.”

Harry began to shake again, so Ginny took his hand to help steady him. There were tears in Molly's eyes and
Arthur looked deeply touched.

"And during our mission to destroy..." Harry almost said the Horcruxes, but caught himself. "...to destroy Riddle,
I missed her terribly. I haven't told you this, Ginny, but I stared at the Marauder's Map almost every night just
to stare at your dot showing you in your bed, usually while I had the watch at night.”

Tears rolled down Ginny’s face as she listened to Harry’s further testimony of his love for her. She leaned over
against him and buried her face into his shoulder. He put his arm around her protectively to comfort her.

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”As you already know, I walked into the Forbidden Forest to face Tom Riddle, knowing he would kill me. It was
my feelings for Ginny that gave me the strength to do it. When his killing curse hit me, my last thoughts were of
Ginny and her image was the last thing I saw. But, as it turned out, my mum's love kept me safe from death yet
again.” Molly had moved around the table next to her daughter. She took the girl in her arms and they sobbed
together as Harry continued his explanation for his and Ginny’s behavior.

”Dumbledore often spoke of love, and he was right. It was love that defeated Tom Riddle, and if it weren't for
the deep love I have for Ginny I don't think I'd ever been able to beat him. But I feel more than love for her.
She is like a part of me, and without her I'm incomplete."

Molly looked up at her husband, tears running down her face in torrents. ”I didn't know," she said softly. ”I had
no idea.”

”Astounding,” was all Arthur could say.

Ginny gazed at Harry with her own tears still coursing down her face. Her face seemed to shine. "Harry, that is
the most beautiful thing I've ever heard," she said. Then, turning to her parents she spoke confidently, but
kindly. "Mum, I know you still think of me as the baby, but I’m not a baby anymore. I love Harry with all of my
heart and he loves me. We show our love to one another by snogging sometimes. But we also respect you and
Dad, and we wouldn't... you know...at least until I'm of age." Ginny looked hopefully into her parents’ faces. She
couldn't actually say it out loud to her parents, but she wanted them to know she was fully committed to Harry.

"I wouldn't ever want to hurt either of you," Harry said to Arthur and Molly. "I couldn’t. You’re the closest thing
I’ve ever had to real parents."

There was a brief uncomfortable silence as Molly and Arthur silently came to a mutual conclusion. It was only
broken when Arthur spoke. “I’m...we’re at a loss for words. We’ve watched countless times as you’ve sat holding
hands in the garden, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes. Oh yes, we’ve watched, fascinated, as the two of
you to exude love everywhere you go and in everything you do. We understood that you had strong feelings for
one another, but we had no idea how deep those feelings ran,” Arthur explained.

”We’d always hoped that there might be something deep and abiding between the two of you,” Molly continued,
”and we’re thrilled to know now that that is indeed the case. It’s just that it was a shock for me to find
you...that way. It was just something a mother is never quite prepared for, especially where her only
daughter—her youngest child—is concerned,” Molly confessed.

”Harry, Ginny, believe it or not, we were young once too, and deeply in love. We made a few choices some
might call unwise, and perhaps they were. We haven’t any regrets, but we had to change a lot of our plans. But
that’s neither here nor there. The point is that we don’t want to see you make the same type of potentially
unwise choices.”

Harry went scarlet.

"I've said it before and I’ll say it again and again. Harry, the day Ron boarded that train and shared a
compartment with you was a very lucky day for our family."

”And now, dears,” Molly began. ”We hear the tell-tale pops during the night and know that you, Harry, and
Hermione have been switching rooms. However, if Harry will respect a not-until-You’re-of-age rule, you may
share a room and a bed. And furthermore, Harry, there will be no more of this formal Mr and Mrs Weasley
nonsense. You’re family. You will call us Arthur and Molly from now on, no arguments. It’s our wish.”

A shocked Harry and Ginny retreated to their room. They expected a furious tirade, possibly a lecture, but never
this! They would be allowed to share a room...and a bed! They had promised Arthur and Molly that there would
be no sex until Ginny reached the Wizarding age of majority.

Following the talk with Molly and Arthur there was a relaxation at the Burrow. They seemed to enjoy the
happiness that beamed from Harry and Ginny. They noticed the way the two of them always kept one another
happy and secure in just about everything they said or did. Molly and Arthur wondered whether that Whatever
It Is was instinctive or just that the two of them were plain crazy in love.

It had become routine that each night, Harry and Ginny would cuddle up together in bed, and read from Lily's

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diary, learning more about how the relationship between Harry’s parents developed and deepened into the
abiding love Molly and Arthur talked about. According to her record, it seemed no one who hung around with
James and Lily on a regular basis had been particularly surprised that they had fallen in love. Everyone,
including the Marauders, knew James had been crazy about Lily for ages, and that it was just a matter of time
before Lily came around. The way Lily described her feelings for James reminded Harry and Ginny of the deep
love they felt for each other.

It was somewhat rewarding for Harry and Ginny to read the diary because Harry got to know a little bit about
his mother, and through her words, his father. Ginny was able to gain a little insight into Harry. She saw a lot of
his parents in him, especially the gallantry and playfulness he inherited from his father. He definitely inherited
the gentleness he showed her from his mother. One night, after a goodnight snog, Ginny lay staring at the
ceiling while Harry slept, his arm draped across her middle, holding her waist. She pondered what they had read
from the diary earlier that night.

She looked into the peaceful face of the man she loved and spoke in her mind. How I wish Harry could have
known you, Mr and Mrs Potter. Your Harry—my Harry—is a kind, gentle, and loving man you can be proud of. I
promise you that I love him with all my heart and I will never let him go. Tears fell as she rolled onto her side
and tucked into Harry’s body. His arm tightened around her and she fell asleep.

One night, after reading and laughing over many romantically humorous entries, they came upon a particularly
heartbreaking passage about an event that took place a couple of weeks after Lily and James got together. She
had spoken about her new relationship with James Potter for the first time privately with Snape:
Poor Sev. I can tell he’s fighting his emotions. He tries so hard to keep them in check. He never used to be like
that, but I’m afraid the influence of likes of Lucius Malfoy and that crowd has poisoned his mind against the
possibility of having friends outside Slytherin House. Still and all, I know Severus loves me and wishes me all the
happiness in the world, but he's having a really hard time accepting that it’s ”that damnable” James Potter who
makes me happy and that I am deeply in love with him.
(Sigh.) I wish Severus and James could be at least civil, because this constant animosity between them is killing
me. I’ve hurt Severus, I know, but I’d hate to lose a dear friend because I cannot—I will not—give up my James!

Harry and Ginny held each other desperately, horrified by the thought that their friends and family could not
accept them. ”I love you so much, Gin, I could never even consider giving you up. Never again,” Harry said,
placing tiny kisses on the top of her flaming red head. Harry promised her once again that nothing would ever
come between them as long as he lived. She turned her head and raised her face to him and gave him a sweet
kiss, pouring all the love into it she promised Lily and James Potter she felt for their son.

A few days later, Harry and Ginny received an owl inviting them to visit Hermione’s parents. She and Ron had
already been there for a couple of days. It was Ron's first visit and introduction as Hermione's boyfriend. Her
parents had just moved back into their old home, which had been let out. They both looked forward to meeting
Mr and Mrs Granger. When they arrived outside, they met Ron and Hermione, who had been waiting for them.
”It’s a welcome home party for my parents,” Hermione said passing them each a drink. ”The house is full of
Muggles.”

Harry and Ginny nodded and the four friends began to catch up on the news. "So, you managed facing them,
Ron," Harry asked.

"He’s done quite well," Hermione said. "After some initial mishaps and confusion."

"This is a ruddy Muggle house," Ron said. "How was I supposed to know that a furidgerator needs to be closed all
the time to stay cold?"

Harry laughed and Ginny looked at him, not getting the joke. "What is a furidgerator," she asked.

”Re-fri-ger-a-tor,” Harry corrected. ”It’s a Muggle device that keeps food cold.”

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In the end, they all agreed that using a freezing charm was much easier. Hermione ushered them inside and led
them over to her parents.

”Mum and Dad, this is Harry and Ginny, my best friends. Ginny is Ron’s sister,” she explained.

Mr Granger shook both their hands. ”It's so good to finally meet you. Hermione has told us so much about you,”
he said.

”I understand we have you to thank for our daughter’s life,” Mrs Granger said to Harry.

”Actually I think Hermione saved our lives more times, and without her we would never passed our exams,”
Harry admitted. Mr and Mrs Granger exchanged pleasantries with their daughter and their friends while more
guests poured into the house.

”Hermione? Is that you?” Hermione, Ron, Harry and Ginny turned around. A girl their age, with light brown hair
stood staring at Hermione. ”It is you. It's been... seven years, I think. Where on earth have you been?”

Hermione blinked at the girl. ”Jenny?”

She nodded and the two girls shrieked and hugged each other. Hermione looked back at her friends and realised
an introduction was in order. ”This is my best friend, Jenny, from the time I grew up here. We were in the same
Mug... school, before I met you lot,” Hermione said and turned back to Jenny. ”These are my best friends, Harry
and Ginny, and the tall handsome one is my boyfriend, Ron.” They greeted Jenny and exchanged the customary
proprieties.

”Hermione, I haven't seen you in seven years! You disappeared, but all your parents would say was that you’d
gotten into a new school,” Jenny exclaimed.

”I'm sorry I lost contact with you, but I home only part of the summer. I've spent a lot of time at Ron and
Ginny's,” Hermione began to explain.

”It was a shock when you left, though. I returned to school and you were gone. All I ever heard was that you got
into another school,” Jenny said.

”So what are you doing now, Jenny,” Hermione asked.

”Still at school, studying history. I want to be a teacher,” she replied.

”A teacher! That’s wonderful,” Hermione congratulated her.

”What about you Hermione? What are you studying at that school?” The other three snapped their heads up and
looked on with trepidation. They could see Hermione had been caught off guard and didn't know what to say.

”Witchcraft,” she said honestly. Harry, Ron, and Ginny gasped and their eyes grew wide. Ron made a grab for
Hermione’s arm. Has she lost her mind?

Jenny looked at her in shock. “WHAT?”

”Er...well...I mean, not witchcraft as a profession.” Hermione had to think fast. ”It’s part of a Sociology track I’m
on. You know, the sociology of religion and culture. That sort of thing. It’s mostly a research project,” she
said. That was close.

”Hermione, that sounds really...er...interesting,” Jenny said.

”Well...I suppose we should check on Mum and Dad,” Hermione said looking at her friends for support. ”There’s
quite a mob here and we should see if we can help.”

”Yes, and I need to be going myself. Take care, Hermione. Keep in touch, yeah,” Jenny said, giving Hermione a
last hug.

”Right. See you later,” Hermione replied as Jenny walked away.

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Hermione wearily looked up at Ron, stepped into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He pulled her
into a tight embrace. ”Ready to go home, ’Mione,” he asked gently. ”I think it’s time, Love.”

Hermione nodded. ”Yes, you’re right. Let’s go home,” she sighed.

”We’ll be right back,” Ron said to Harry and Ginny. ”We’re just going to grab our gear and say our
goodbyes. We’ll meet you outside.”

Harry and Ginny nodded, wished Grangers well, and slipped out the front door to wait for their companions.

A few days before Harry's birthday, a letter arrived for him. To his surprise, it was from Mrs Figg. He opened it
and inside was a letter from Dudley Dursley.
Harry,
I don't know if you even care, but we've been back in Privet Drive for a few weeks. One of your lot told us it was
safe because you won the war. Anyway, happy birthday. I realise you never got any presents here, and the only
one I can offer is: I'm sorry.
Your cousin, Dudley

P.S. I figured Mrs Figg would be able to get this to you.

Harry read it again and wondered if someone had hexed Dudley during the time they were in hiding, or if his
cousin taken leave of his senses.

"You’ve got to answer him," Ginny said flatly. "He's family."

Ron rounded on his sister. "Bloody hell, why? Don't you know what they put him through in that place?"

”Ron, please don’t...” Hermione said quietly.

"Well... Harry told me some of it, but Dudley was only a boy."

They all looked at Harry expectantly.

"Okay, I’ll write him. If nothing else, an owl will make uncle Vernon go mental," Harry said, a wicked grin
stealing across his face as his green eyes twinkled with mischief.

Harry thought about what to write, and an hour later he asked Ginny to read it.
Dudley,
I accept your present. And if you wish, you are welcome to attend my birthday party, just write your answer on
this letter, give it to the owl, and tell him to bring it to me. If you decide to come, I will meet you where we were
attacked at noon on 31 July.
Harry

The next morning, the owl returned.


Harry,
Dad went spare when that bird delivered your letter. It was brilliant! I’d like to come.
*D*

Chapter 4: Cause for celebration


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Chapter 4 – Cause for Celebration

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Something tickled his face and neck, followed by something warm and moist. ”Harry.” A sweet voice called into
the mists of time. ”Harry, my love,” the sweet voice called again. A warm sensation filled his entire body as the
warm and moist thing brushed across his lips.

”Harry, love.” His eyelids fluttered open and he tried to focus, but his glasses lay on the nightstand and he didn’t
want to move, for he had been caught up in a vision. There was a bright light, and in that light stood a flaming
goddess. The Light Goddess leaned forward and kissed him. That familiar hot molten lava coursed through his
veins.

”Ginny,” he moaned, as he pulled her down on top of him, taking her in his arms, returning her kiss. Her spirit
and passion intoxicated him and he fell willingly under her spell. She rolled him over on top of her. She flicked
her tongue against his top lip, coaxing his mouth open. She drew her tongue across the roof of his mouth. His
head began to spin as if he’d been struck by a rogue Bludger.

Finally, breathless and panting, they broke the kiss. Dizzy with the heat, he raised his head and stared into her
chocolate brown eyes, pure joy written all over his face. ”Mmmm. Morning, you,” she purred, reaching soft
hands up to caress his morning stubble. ”Happy birthday.”

”Thank you, love. That was some present,” he said stroking her hair. ” Can we wake up like this every morning?
Not just on my birthday,” Harry asked huskily as he kissed her again.

” As you wish,” she said. ”As you wish.”

The inviting smell of breakfast wafted up the stairs, beckoning them to the kitchen. Pancakes, eggs, bangers,
toast—all of Harry’s favorite breakfast foods covered the table as he and Ginny descended the stairs hand in
hand.

”Thanks, Molly,” Harry replied giving her a squeeze. ”You’re the best!”

”Happy birthday, Harry dear,” Molly smiled warmly, kissing his cheek. ”Now tuck in.”

After breakfast, Arthur invited Harry to join him outside. "I'm not really finished yet, but I wanted to show you
today," he said leading Harry to his workshop. Arthur removed the rusty padlock and pushed the creaky door
open. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the diminished light and then Arthur crossed the floor and
removed and old canvas from a pile of something in the corner.

Harry looked and didn't believe his eyes. "It's Sirius' motorcycle. I forgot it was even here."

"Yes, I've been repairing it, like new. It's my birthday present to you," Arthur said, grinning from ear to ear.
"I’ve been having a bit of trouble with some of the Muggle parts. Perhaps you could assist me?"

”Arthur, I...” Harry stammered. ”I don’t know what to say! Thank you, sir.” Harry gave Arthur a big hug. We’ll
have her up and running again, Sirius, I promise.

The two men tinkered about with the various parts Arthur had laid out on the work bench, discussing which bits
might be salvaged and which others should be either rebuilt or replaced outright. Harry suggested they watch
the Muggle newspapers for auctions, and perhaps visit a salvage yard for the more difficult parts to find. Harry
also knew that they mustn’t tell Molly about visits to salvage yards. A few hours later, Harry got ready to fetch
Dudley.

"You want us to come along," Ron asked him.

"I'd like that," Harry said looking at Ron, Hermione and Ginny. "I never thought I'd ever go back there, but
Dudley seemed different when they left last year, saying he's sorry... never thought he even knew the word, let
alone how to use it properly."

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At noon, the four of them walked out to the Apparition spot outside the Burrow’s protective wards. Harry took
Ginny in his arms for a side-along and they disappeared with a pop. They landed in the spot where Harry and
Dudley had been attacked by Dementors, but there was no sign of Dudley.

"I actually thought he'd be here," Harry said, a bit disappointed.

"Could there be problems with your uncle," Ron asked.

"Whenever wasn't there a problem with him," Harry asked. "Maybe we should check to make sure."

Harry led them to Privet Drive. They could hear the shouting as they approached. In fact, the entire
neighbourhood could hear it. Vernon and Dudley were clearly in the middle of a thundering row.

"... and he saved my life from that Dementaled thing, and probably yours too, last year," shouted Dudley.

"He. Certainly. Did. Not. He wasted a lot of our time." Vernon shouted back. "You are not going to any freaky
birthday party with his kind."

"I'm an adult, and you can no longer control what to do," Dudley replied.

Hermione decided they’d heard enough. Shaking her head, she marched up to the door with her wand raised.
Making sure there were no witnesses in the street, she waved her wand with purpose. "Bombarda!"

The force of her spell tore the door from the frame, sending it crashing into the hall. She stepped over it into the
house where she found the Dursleys, now in terrified silence, wide-eyed in the kitchen. Ron, Ginny and Harry
hurried in after her. Vernon exploded at the sight of them.

"You lot... I'll call the police this instant" he threatened.

"You do that, and I'll report your mistreatment of Harry to the Ministry of Magic and have you packed off to
Azkaban in a heartbeat," Hermione said coldly. "Besides, what are you going to say to the police,” she taunted.
”'Two wizards and two witches broke in,' huh? Or maybe I'll just turn you into a toad instead and save everyone
the trouble." Vernon froze, vein pulsing. Petunia, who had gone unnoticed until now, laid a shaky hand on
Vernon's shoulder.

"C'mon Dudley, let's go," Hermione said almost brightly.

Once outside again Ron rounded on Hermione. "You are mental, you know that don't you," eyeing Hermione.
Then, he broke into a grin. ”And brilliant! Remind me to be sure I’m on your side in a fight. I love you, but
you’re scary sometimes. But why not just use Alohomora?"

"It wouldn't have had the same effect, would it?" Hermione grinned wickedly.

The five of them made their way back to the apparition spot in the park. "This is Hermione and Ron, my best
friends, and this is Ron's sister, Ginny, my girlfriend." Dudley shook hands with Ron and greeted the girls
politely.

"Sorry about them," Dudley said pointing back towards Privet Drive "What now?"

"We’ll Apparate to the Burrow. You’ll see. That's where I live for now. You’ll side-along with Hermione."

"Apparate," Dudley asked, confused.

"It’s like teleportation," Harry explained. "It's a bit uncomfortable, but Hermione really is brilliant. Just relax.
She won't splinch you."

"Splinch," Dudley paled.

"It's when some body parts get left behind. It can be a bit messy, but easily fixed," Ron explained.

"Yeah, now I'm relaxed," Dudley said.

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”Come on, Dudley. You’ll be fine, I promise.” Hermione took his hand, and they all Apparated to the Burrow.

Quite a crowd had begun to assemble at Burrow when they arrived. Harry felt a pang of guilt for having
extended an open invitation. Molly had royally outdone herself. George and Katie Bell greeted them at the gate.
”You made it all right then,” George said rather than asked, looking around at them, as if inspecting to make
sure they had arrived safe and un-splinched.

”George, this is my cousin, Dudley,” Harry said.

”Welcome, Dudley, old man. A drink,” George asked, ushering him toward the party. ”Butterbeer?”

”Erm...sure. Harry, what’s Butterbeer,” Dudley asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

”It’s really good,” Harry assured him. ”It’s my favorite—that, and pumpkin juice. You’ll like it.”

When George returned with six Butterbeers, Harry leaned in closer to George. ”Are you two together, you and
Katie?”

”Sort of, I guess,” George answered.

”How are you sort of together,” Ginny wondered.

”We go on dates, have fun, but we take it easy." Katie told them.

”Honestly, it's been a rough time after Fred and I don't know if I'm ready for a relationship,” George added.

”And I respect that, so we just hang out... and there's some occasional snogging,” Katie blinked.

After a while the garden at the Burrow was full to capacity. Many friends and classmates from the DA were
there, along with a delegation of Hogwarts staff and members from the Order of the Phoenix. It seemed enough
time had passed after the Battle of Hogwarts that the birthday of the one who defeated Voldemort was the
perfect day for a real celebration after all the memorials and burials.

"I should have brought more Firewhiskey," Arthur said, looking at all of the people.

"Oi, Arthur! Maybe this'll help then," Hagrid lumbered up to him carrying an entire crate of bottles under one
arm.

"Hagrid!" Harry broke into a full-face grin and ran to hug him. "I haven't seen you in weeks."

"Happy birthday, 'Arry" Hagrid said. "Your present is along with all the others piled up o'er there".

"Hagrid, you remember my cousin, Dudley," Harry said pulling Dudley forward.

"I reckon yer being 'ere, yer learned some manners" Hagrid said and laughed. Dudley paled and shuddered
slightly, remembering the pig's tail Hagrid hexed onto his posterior years ago. "Have a glass," Hagrid boomed,
offering them a glass each.

"Be careful with that stuff, Big D. It's Firewhiskey," Harry warned as his cousin threw back the drink.

Dudley turned red and coughed. "It certainly is" he choked. Harry gave Dudley a couple of firm pats on his back
in order to help him catch his breath.

Harry introduced his cousin around to his friends. Although he was a Muggle, they all accepted him and prodded
him to tell them of his adventures in hiding. He told them how he’d learned a bit about the Wizarding world
during that time. "I don't understand your world, but I got it that the bad guy was a really nasty one. And that

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many were killed taking him down."


"Yes, we lost a lot of people in the war. Close friends. Ron and Ginny lost one of their older brothers, George’s
twin, Fred," Harry said and then pointed at Andromeda and Teddy. "And Teddy, there, lost both of his parents.
He's my godson, by the way. Everyone here lost someone close to them; this is actually the first time we're
actually celebrating something."

Although overwhelmed by the magnitude of this party, he came to realise that the Wizarding world wasn’t
freaky at all. Just different. He had just been discussing that with Harry and Ginny when they were interrupted
by a rather imposing black man dressed in colorful robes with an earring in his left ear. "Harry, could I have a
word please?"

"Sure. Excuse me, Dudley, this is Kingsley Shacklebolt the Minister for Magic, something like your Prime
Minister." Harry then turned to Kingsley, "Minister, this is my cousin, Dudley Dursley."

”Pleased to meet you, Dudley,” he said, shaking Dudley’s hand. Only a week ago, Kingsley had been elected
permanent Minister for Magic. Dudley seemed impressed that Harry knew such an apparently important man
personally. Blimey, Harry’s got some interesting friends, and Ginny--wow. ”Please excuse us, Dudley. We won’t
be long,” the Minister promised.

Kingsley guided Harry to a quiet corner of the garden. "Harry please, on private occasions or when it's just the
two of us, call me Kingsley,” he admonished his young friend. Now, I wondered if you could come to the Ministry
during the week. Arthur mentioned that you wanted to see me before deciding on your future."

"Yes, I have thought about working for you, and I'd like to know what you had in mind, but I have also thought
of returning to Hogwarts to finish my studies."

"Come to my office tomorrow afternoon and we'll have a chat. And while I have your attention, could you give a
deposition about the Malfoys? Their trial is coming up, and with any luck, a written testimony from you should
be enough...unless you prefer coming to the trial."

”Kingsley, if I won't have to be put on display as a witness, I would be glad to give you that deposition and
testimony.”

”Done,” Kingsley laughed, shaking Harry’s hand. The two of them rejoined the celebration and Harry noticed
George was pulling pranks on Dudley. Further off, he saw Luna trying to socialize with the garden gnomes that
sneaked about all over the Burrow.

”Luna! It’s great to see you,” Harry called as he pulled her into a hug.

”Oh hi, Harry. Did you know that Gnomes are very misunderstood creatures?”

”No, I didn't, but they ought to be right pleased here. They don't de-Gnome the Burrow very often.”

Luna smiled as if Harry was a lost cause regarding the Lovegood truth about gnomes. ”By the way, Harry, it was
nice of you to clarify about our friendship in the papers. I haven't had the opportunity to thank you in person
until today,” she said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

”No problem, Luna. So...are you joining the party, or will you enjoy the company of the Gnomes?”

”Well, I'm trying to find out if the Weasley Gnomes know ours. Their social structure is rather uncharted
territory,” Luna said airily and returned to the Gnomes.

A ripple of heat radiated in Harry’s chest when he spied a shock of bright red hair across the lawn. He strode
quickly over to Ginny, took her hand and kissed it. He had just leaned down to kiss her temple when he heard a
familiar voice behind him.

Harry?" He turned and there stood Cho Chang.

"Cho," Harry answered.

"Happy birthday," she said giving him a hug. "I got a message about the party on my DA coin."

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Harry felt a bit nervous facing Cho with Ginny standing next to him. He and Cho didn't break up on the best
terms, but she had shown loyalty to the DA and fought in the Battle of Hogwarts. She had also supported his
statement to squelch further speculation about her involvement in Harry's love life. "And I also wanted to
extend my best wishes to the two of you," Cho continued, "you’re made for each other."

”Thanks, Cho,” Ginny said looking sidelong at Harry, as Cho walked away. "Harry, are you all right? You look a
bit shaken," she said softly, running a comforting hand up his arm to his shoulder.

"Yeah, I’m fine. You know I dated her, and she was the first girl I ever kissed, but after Cedric's death things
always felt a bit weird with her. She cried thinking of him when she was kissing me. And she was jealous in fifth
year because she knew I loved someone else." Harry looked into Ginny's eyes and then smiled thoughtfully.
"She thought it was Hermione, though, probably because of that article in the Prophet during the Triwizard
Tournament. And I didn't understand it was you I loved until sixth year. When you started dating others, I
thought the anger I felt was just my being big brotherly and that I was supporting Ron."

"You are so cute," Ginny said, placing a hand on his cheek. ”Not as cute as you, love.” He turned his face and
kissed her palm. ”Not as cute as you.”

They made the rounds, exchanging small talk with the guests. Harry caught Molly fussing around one of the
tables. Harry let go of Ginny’s hand and gave her an evil grin as he crept up from behind. He wrapped his arms
around her waist and gave his surrogate mother a squeeze. She jumped and then laughed at him. ”Molly, thank
you so much for going to all this trouble. Only, I’m sorry I invited so many and put you through all this. I...”

”Not at all, dear, not at all. Besides, most people bring more to eat or drink than they will ever consume
anyway,” she said. Just then, Neville approached and Harry excused himself to greet him. Ginny stayed behind
to help Molly.

”Mum, you’ve really outdone yourself this time,” Ginny complimented, as she drew her mother into a hug.
Ginny’s eyes became bright. ”This means so much to him, Mum. You have no idea,” Ginny said, blinking back
tears.

”You love him very much,” Molly said just above a whisper.

”Oh Mum, I do, and I want to make him happy,” she said as a stray tear stole down her cheek.

’You do make him happy, dear. He lights up like a Christmas tree every time he looks at you,” Molly said,
glancing over at her surrogate son.

”Today you made him happy, Mum. Thank you so much,” Ginny said, as she cried softly into her mother’s
shoulder.

“Happy birthday Harry.” Neville said, giving Harry a one-armed hug.

”Thanks, Neville. And by the way, happy birthday to you too, for yesterday,” Harry replied.

Neville looked at him. ”When did I ever tell you when my birthday was,” he asked.

”You didn’t. Look, Neville. There's something I've been meaning to tell you.”

Harry put a brotherly arm around Neville and guided him a little way away from the crowd. ”You remember the
prophecy,” Harry asked.

”Yeah, how could I forget facing down Bellatrix at the Ministry and all?”

”Neville, that prophecy wasn't about me, well not specifically. It was about a wizard born at the end of July,
whose parents opposed Tom Riddle three times,” Harry said.

Neville looked puzzled. ”Yeah...”

”It could have been about either of us, Neville. Riddle chose me.”

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”I don’t follow.”

”Don’t you see, Neville? He could have chosen to believe the prophecy was about you.”

”And then he would have attacked me, and killed my parents? Why are you telling me this,” Neville asked.

”He could have attacked your family instead. I'm telling you because might have been as much about you as it is
about me.”

”Thank you, Harry, for telling me. Maybe my parents would have been killed, and me along with them,” Neville
said as a shudder wracked his insides.

”There's no telling, Nev. Maybe your parents would have sacrificed themselves to save you and you would have
ended up with this scar. Or he might have just killed you and your parents and then went on to kill my family
and me. There's no telling what might have happened, but I wanted you to know the truth about the prophecy.”

”Thanks, Harry.” Harry and Neville shook hands and slapped each other on the shoulder. They made to rejoin
the party on the lawn. Ginny returned to Harry’s side. They spent the rest of the time chatting with friends and
laughing about old times, avoiding any discussion of the war. Nothing would dampen the spirits of this party.

Later that evening, the party began to break up. Harry found Dudley at a table, again regaling his audience with
his adventures in hiding. As the Firewhiskey flowed, Dudley’s stories got longer and funnier. He had just finished
a particular tale when he looked up at his raven-haired cousin. "Hey Harry!" Dudley wavered a little in his seat.
"I say, the Wizarding world is a lot better than I thought."

”Glad you had a good time, Dud. Ready to head out,” Harry asked him, helping him to his feet.

”Yeah. It’s...getting...uh...lather rate—I mean, rather late,” Dudley chuckled drunkenly.

”And you’re rather pissed, Cousin-of-Mine,” Harry laughed.

”I resemble that remark,” Dudley slurred.

Harry Apparated him back to Privet Drive. "Thanks again for coming, Dudley. Will you be okay with your dad, or
should I curse him?"

"Nah, I can handle him. But you really could curse him, right?"

"Yeah, there are some really bad ones...and the pranks."

"I heard from one wizard at the party that you were hit by a really bad one, the same one that killed your
parents."

"Yeah, there are three Unforgivable curses, the Imperius curse that let you control another person, the
Cruciatus curse for torture and the Killing curse. It's the Killing curse that hit me, but I survived it...again."

"Did you ever use them?"

"Never the Killing curse. But I had to use the other two a couple of times in the war. I'm not too proud of it."

Dudley seemed to notice that Harry wasn't keen on talking about the war. But he did feel he had one question
that had bugged him for quite some time. "Everyone at the party seemed really proud of you though, especially
that girl of yours. Harry, can I ask you something?"

Harry nodded. ”Sure, anything.”

"What did that thing do to me when it attacked me here?"

"It sucked away all that was good in your life, leaving nothing but the darkest bits. If it had finished, it would
have sucked out your soul."

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"Harry, what I saw lying here was terrible. I saw the complete arse I'd been. And during our year in hiding, I've
also been able to see what arses Mum and Dad are, especially Dad. It was actually good to see you, and I
wouldn't mind keeping in touch, if I knew how. You lot don’t have phones, right?"

"No, we don't. I'll ask Kreacher to look you up, though. Kreacher!" Harry called.
Crack! ”Yes, Master Harry."

"What is that," Dudley asked with wide eyes, sobering a little.

"This is my house-elf, Kreacher," Harry replied turning back to Kreacher. "This is my cousin. He's a Muggle, but
it's my wish you let me know if Dudley wants to get in touch with me."

Kreacher looked at Dudley as if he was a bug, but bowed again. "Yes, Master Harry. Kreacher serves Harry
Potter and will do his bidding." Kreacher Disapparated with a crack!

"Dudley, if you want to deliver a message to me, call for Kreacher and he’ll come and take your message. I must
tell you though, he's not fond of Muggles, so do not, really do not, call on him for fun, because I didn't think to
instruct him not to harm you if you annoy him."

"That little runt couldn’t harm me," Dudley said with that old air of thuggish bravado.

"Big D, house-elves have their own brand of magic, and as such, he can take down a full-grown wizard."

Harry and Dudley bade each other goodnight and shook hands before Harry Apparated back to the Burrow.
Dudley really has changed.

Later that night, Harry had another nightmare. In the dream, Voldemort hit Ginny with the killing curse. Harry
woke up with a terrified scream, grabbing wand before realising where he was. Ginny had been asleep next to
him and jumped when Harry shouted.

"Harry, what happened?"

"Nothing, another nightmare," Harry replied shaking and panting, sweat beading on his face.

"From the look of you, this one must’ve been bad."

"The worst. Riddle hit you with the killing curse," Harry whispered, wiping away tears that threatened to escape
from his eyes.

Ginny wrapped herself around Harry as closely as she could, enveloping him in her love. "I'm here, my love.
Voldemort is gone." She smoothed his hair and caressed his brow. She nestled her cheek into his messy locks
and held him.

"Yeah I guess seeing all those people today might have dredged up memories."

”Probably so. That, and all the excitement. Let’s try and get some sleep, shall we,” she asked pulling him back
down onto his back. She kissed him tenderly and they fell asleep together in each other’s arms.

The next day was the first of August. Arthur and Harry shut themselves in workshop after breakfast to work on
Sirius’ bike. Molly made her opinion clear about big boys with their toys, especially enchanted Muggle toys. Ron
and Hermione left for her parents’. Ron was really nervous since he still was worried about being accepted by
the Grangers.

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With Arthur and Harry in the shed and Ron and Hermione out for the day, Molly and Ginny had the house to
themselves. Ginny took the opportunity to talk with her mother about something she had thought of following
the heart-to-heart between Harry, her parents, and herself.

"Mum, can I ask you something?"

"Anything, dear" Molly smiled.

"You know I come of age soon," she started nervously.

"Yes, I am aware of that." Molly thought she knew where this was going, but she let her daughter speak.

"Well...I want to...be with Harry," she said, biting her bottom lip.

"You are with him, dear, and I'm so happy for you."

"I meant...to go further than snogging," she added, hoping her mother would understand.

Molly clearly understood what Ginny meant and sat down, taking her daughter’s hand.

"Yes, I suppose I can understand that."

"You're not going to tell me I'm too young," Ginny asked, surprised by her mother's reaction.

"I guess I'll have to accept that you are a young woman, now, and not my baby girl. I couldn't wish for a better
boyfriend for you and we all love Harry, and I appreciate that you’ve come to me. What is your question?"

Ginny blushed and cleared her throat. "Well, it’s just that...I don't want us to have a baby, not yet anyway."

"No dear, of course you don't," Molly said. She stood up and left the room for a few moments, returning with a
book called, Household Magic for Witches. She opened it to the right page. "Here is the contraceptive charm that
will help avoid that. It's easy to perform, but you must remember to cast it each time before... you know. Well,
not if you do it two or three times in a row or something like that, because it lasts long enough to..."

Ginny looked on in mild amusement as her mother, the wise and great Molly Weasley, blushed and stammered
her way through this discussion. Finally, she decided she should let her mother off the hook. ”Mum... I get it.
Please stop before you get into details about you and Dad. I don't want to know.” Ginny realised her mother
really must see her as an adult.

”Ginny, dear, what I really meant is that I appreciate that you and Harry want to be responsible, and I'm very
happy for you,” Molly confessed as tears began to well in her kind eyes.

”Harry was right,” she said with a faint smile.

”Right about what, dear,” Molly asked.

”You’re the best.”

"You know what, Harry? I'm a happy father,” Arthur said as he attacked a part with a screwdriver.

”Sir?”

”Watching Ginny these past weeks. Harry, she’s always been very temperamental, a lot like Molly actually. But
ever after the two of you got together, she seems to have found harmony...a sort of balance," he said
thoughtfully.

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”To be honest, Arthur, I think she feels the same way I do: Apart, we’re incomplete."

"You seem to have a special bond, and a strong one at that. Have you talked about your future? You know you
have a big decision to make this afternoon, son," Arthur reminded him.

"We’ve talked a lot. Ginny will, of course, first finish at Hogwarts. I don't really know how I would feel returning
for another year, other than it would be great to be close to Ginny. But I don't know if I'm ready to work for the
Ministry, either. The Ministry did put a pretty big price on my head, after all."

Arthur laughed and then his face turned serious. "Harry, I can only say that Kingsley will understand if you
choose Hogwarts, so don't feel like you're letting him down if you go back to school. He will most likely need you
next year, too."

"But Arthur, we’ve also talked about more than just the coming year. I know we’re young, but I want to spend
the rest of my life with Ginny. I love her."

Arthur smiled and looked back at Harry. "Are you asking for my opinion on that matter?"

“I guess I am. I wanted to talk to you. Honestly, I feel more comfortable asking you, and it just seems more
appropriate than bringing it up with Molly," Harry replied.

"Yes, my wife can be a formidable woman,” Arthur laughed. "I think Molly will be delighted as long as Ginny
finishes school before getting married. Harry, the two of you have a bond that transcends love. There’s some
kind of magic beyond my immediate comprehension at work here, because you two literally glow. Knowing what
I know about the two of you, though, I can just about guess what it is," he said, nodding to himself.

"What?"

"Voldemort." Arthur said.

”Voldemort? But how,” Harry asked in shock.

"Voldemort had possessed each of you at some point or another. You and Ginny are the only known survivors of
his possession. I think that facing that kind of evil somehow makes a bond of love stronger. The two of you
understand each other in a way no one else can. Furthermore, Harry, you died for her. Since your mother's
sacrifice created a magical protection over you, I’m guessing that when you took that killing curse for Ginny, it
did the same for her. The difference is that you survived, and somehow, I think the protection your death should
have provided somehow created a deep magical bond between you that, by Merlin, will exist beyond the plane of
mortality itself," Arthur said in awe of his own theory.

"I never thought about it like that, but it makes sense."

”Harry, please keep in mind that I'm only guessing, because this involves very strong and unknown magic. I
don't think even Dumbledore himself could explain it.” Neither man spoke for a while, contemplating what has
just passed between them.
Gather up all your Gryffindor courage, Potter. You can do this. ”Arthur, since we’re sort of on the subject...about
Ginny, I mean...I have something important to discuss with you. I...I want to do this properly,” Harry said
tentatively.

”What is it, son,” Arthur asked, stifling a grin.

Go for it. ”Sir, may I have your permission to ask for Ginny's hand in marriage,” Harry asked hopefully.

”Proper, indeed. Since I have only one daughter, it means a lot that you asked my permission. Yes, of course,
you have my permission, son.”

”Thank you, sir... er... Arthur. Thank you,” Harry said, releasing the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been
holding.

They resumed the repairs with a new enthusiasm, sorting parts and making note of any replacements they
might need. A couple of fleeting hours later, Harry excused himself and went into the house to prepare his

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statement concerning the Malfoys, and then got cleaned up for his appointment with Kingsley at the Ministry.

”I won’t be long, Gin, I promise,” he said as he kissed her soundly at the gate.

”I’ll be here counting the moments,” she smiled. ”I love you.”

”You too, Gin.” He kissed her forehead, turned, and Disapparated.

Harry Apparated into the Ministry atrium and headed over to check in his wand.

”Name,” the attendant asked.

”Harry James Potter,” Harry replied.

”Purpose?”

”I have an appointment with the Minister,” he said.

”Very well. You wand, please,” the attendant asked holding out his hand. He placed it on a spot on a small
podium.

”Holly and Phoenix feather,” said the attendant. ”Very good, Mr Potter.” The attendant returned his wand and
then handed Harry a VISITOR badge to pin onto his robes.

”Thank you,” Harry said politely as he passed through to the bank of lifts just beyond.

Harry rode the lift the proper floor as dozens of paper airplanes floated over head, and zoomed in and out when
the doors opened at different floors. At last the door opened at Harry’s floor and he exited and turned toward
Kingsley’s office.

”Harry,” Kingsley greeted him warmly.

Harry shook his hand and then looked back at the Minister questioningly. ”Minister. Professor.”

“I’m sure you’re wondering what professor McGonagall is doing here,” he said, noticing Harry’s raised eyebrows.

”Well...now that you mention it...” Harry eyed him suspiciously.

”Let me explain. Tea,” Kingsley offered.

”Yes, please,” Harry took the cup and saucer, stealing a glance at Professor McGonagall. He leaned back and
took a sip.

”As you already know, I am working to make changes here at the Ministry—necessary changes. The problem is
that I don't know who I can trust. I’ve brought in most of the Order, because I know I trust them. Together, we
are cleaning house. Anyone in the administration who demonstrates the minutest sympathy for Voldemort’s
fallen regime has been unceremoniously removed. The Auror Office is essentially decimated, since I’ve got them
rounding up the Death Eaters and Snatchers still at large,” Kingsley explained.
”But that’s good, isn’t it? I mean, isn’t that what we fought for,” Harry asked, still not quite understanding
Kingsley’s diatribe.

Yes, Harry, it is. For the most part, we are moving in the right direction, but the process has been slow, leaving
us still very vulnerable. There are only a handful of people at the Ministry I can trust completely, since we are
still investigating those who claim they had fallen under the Imperius curse or who simply claiming they had
followed Ministry orders. It's a mess trying to figure out who’s lying and who isn’t, since I don’t approve of the
use of Veritaserum. I have the good fortune to know that one man I can trust is the editor for the Daily Prophet,
and I have his full support,” Kingsley said.

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He actually trusts anyone having anything to do with the Prophet? Harry took another sip and dubiously looked
at Professor McGonagall and then back at Kingsley again. ”So...” Harry prodded.

”So...One task I must accomplish is to restructure the Auror Office,” Kingsley replied. ”The Aurors took heavy
losses during the war and still are, as we flush out and pursue renegade Death Eaters. By the time we finish, I
hope I’ll still have enough Aurors left to educate a new generation.”

”What does that have to do with...” Harry started, but Kingsley cut him off.

”We need a more stable administration and less strain on the Aurors. They are simply too busy with their Death
Eater work to educate the new recruits we surely need. And that is what brings us to why you and professor
McGonagall are here.” Harry looked at professor McGonagall again but she remained silent, drinking her tea.

Kingsley continued. ”I know you don’t like to hear this, Harry, but during the war you were a symbol of hope for
the Wizarding world, but now, like it or not, since you defeated Voldemort, you’re it’s hero. That being the case,
you are still in danger so long as the situation at the Ministry is...shall we say...unstable? Remaining Death
Eaters may target you.”

Harry took another sip. ”I'm sorry, Minister,” Harry said, ”but I don't follow.”

”Harry,” Professor McGonagall began. ”The Minister has briefed me on the situation here at the Ministry and
after discussing my problems at Hogwarts, we realised we might help each other. You see Harry, I'm having
problems finding professors for the vacant posts on my staff, especially as professor for Defence Against the
Dark Arts. There's a certain fear surrounding that post because of the fates of the persons who accepted it in
recent years. After the war, Kingsley has sought and hired every competent and trustworthy wizard and witch to
keep the Auror Office and the Office of Magical Law Enforcement running. For that reason, we would like to
place Dumbledore's Army into an Auror training program, with you as their teacher at Hogwarts, since Hogwarts
is the safest place for you to be. Both Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic will back you,” she told him with a
note of urgency in her usually sure voice.

”Me?” Harry asked, alarmed. ”But I didn't even finish school yet! How would I be able to teach at that level?”

”Harry, you’ve already proven yourself capable,” Professor McGonagall assured him. ”In the face of
then-insurmountable odds, you organized a rag-tag group of students into a fine fighting force that made a
valiant showing in an all-out battle against a core group of Death Eaters, sustaining a few injuries and only two
losses. The DA faced greater odds than the Aurors and the Order combined and prevailed,” she reminded him.

”But Professor, we...” Harry tried to argue.

”Harry, you trained them to do what they did and you trained them well. It was your influence and commitment
that made them what they are. And what’s even more astounding is that you taught them to conjure the
Patronus. Are you aware that that is magic advanced beyond N.E.W.T. level? A silvery mist will earn a passing
grade, a shaped shadow will earn a few more points, but a full corporeal Patronus such as each and every
member of Dumbledore’s Army can produce earns an Outstanding N.E.W.T. Mark my words, Mr Potter, you will
make a very competent teacher,” she said confidently.

”Harry, it is my hope that you and the members of the DA, should you accept the position, will eventually
become the new Aurors we desperately need. The sense of teamwork the DA displayed in the heat of battle, as
taught by you, is exemplary. Truth be told, most of you could pass the practical Auror exam today, and with a
little study, you could pass the theoretical exams too,” Kingsley said.

”So you want me to train Aurors without officially calling it an Auror Training Program,” Harry concluded.

”Yes, that is the basic idea,” McGonagall said and then gave one of her rare smiles ”You will have the full
support of both the Ministry and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I don't think being able to
spend time at Hogwarts should be a problem, Mr Potter. We also hope the DA might fill in as teachers for
Defense Against the Dark Arts. Another team project, if you will.”

”Of course I'd love to spend time at Hogwarts. But isn't there a risk that we expose the vulnerability of the
Ministry and the Auror Office as you described,” Harry asked.

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”No one in his right mind would ever question you, Harry. You trained the most successful group opposing
Voldemort, and then, if you please, you finished him yourself,” Kingsley said. ”If you accept, I trust the Daily
Prophet to make it look good; however, it may very likely add to your hero status,” Kingsley chuckled.

”And I know of several of the professors who would gladly assist you in any way you need,” Professor
McGonagall added. ”And they would also give you and the DA specialized lessons in the subjects other than
Defense Against the Dark Arts, so you are prepared to take the theoretical Auror exams.”

”I want you to know, Harry, that I don't want to use you. You have certainly done more for the Wizarding world
than anyone ever could ask of you.” Kingsley said, ”but you are a powerful influence in our world. You are
considered a great hero, and as Dumbledore's apprentice, I dare say many expect you to might fill the void left
with his death. As for me, I must have an official opinion of you as Minister for Magic. I don't like it, but I must.
Should I avoid you, it might appear that I'm afraid of you, making me look weak. That could lead to speculation
that you are after my job. Should I be seen too much with you, it might make me appear weak, as though I
might be trying to ride on your status. Therefore, I've chosen to be seen with you publically only to bestow on
you the Order of Merlin. Don't get me wrong, because you all deserved it, but there was a political dimension to
it all too,” Kingsley explained.

”Oh yes. The new leader decorates the war hero, right,” Harry said blandly.

”Something like that.” Kingsley smiled sadly, knowing Harry disdained the attention.

”I'll never be a politician,” Harry affirmed.

”But you will accept training the DA for a restored Auror Office,” Professor McGonagall asked.

”Can I think about it and talk to Ginny,” Harry asked. ”I mean, it has as much to do with her as it does me in the
long run.”

”Of course, you may send an owl to me and to Minerva when you have reached a decision,” Kingsley assured
him.

”Fair enough, Minister,’ Harry said, offering his hand. ”Professor.” Harry opened the door and left the office, his
mind reeling. If I accept their offer, Ginny and I wouldn’t have to be apart while she’s at school.

That evening, Harry and Ginny sat in their room talking. "Ginny, I need your opinion."

"I appreciate that you do," she smiled. "Or I'd curse you."

"I know you would and I'd deserve it. I promised you that I will never shut you out of my life again and I meant
it,” he said, gazing into her chocolate pools.

He told Ginny about the offer Kingsley and Professor McGonagall made him, and how he felt about it. ”It’s a
great opportunity, Gin,” he offered.

"I always thought you wanted to be an Auror one day, and now it seems this offer pretty much puts you in
charge of the new Auror training program,” she said, savouring the possibilities.

"Honestly, I thought I might’ve fought the Dark Arts enough to last a lifetime and that maybe I should leave it
for others from now on. Ginny, I want a future with you and working as Auror could put me at risk," he
reminded her.

"There’s an unspoken but there. I can hear it already," she said with a sly grin.

"But...I think I'd be a good Auror and I want to do something that makes a difference. As an Auror, I could also
keep my dueling skills at top level, if I ever need to fight, and..." Harry paused.

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”There’s an and...” she asked.

”And I could keep training you so you can better protect yourself while I’m gone on missions,” he said, putting a
protective arm around her.

”Well...that might be fun,” she said, thoughtfully. ”If you're not sure, this seems like a good chance to find out if
being an Auror is what you really want. You’ll be training the DA to become Aurors, but not as a part of the
Auror Office, which means you don't have to make a commitment to the Ministry.” Ginny observed. ”It seems to
me that they’re saying that should any of you decide you don’t want to take the Auror exams, you won't have
to.”

”That’s true, and I can still spend a lot of time at Hogwarts with you. By the way, what do you plan to do after
Hogwarts, my love,” Harry asked with raised eyebrows.

”Maybe become a Healer, but I’ll need top marks for that. And I also hope for a successful career raising a
family,” she smiled. ”I have also had this crazy dream of playing professional Quidditch, but I’ve heard the
competition for contracts is brutal.”

Harry had all he could do to restrain himself from instantly proposing to Ginny with his mother's ring when she
told about having a family, but he had a plan and he meant to stick with it. ”Work hard with the Quidditch team.
You know Oliver Wood got a contract,” Harry said.

”Yeah, I guess...” she said wistfully.

”You only guess? Ginny, you are an amazing Chaser. I’ve seen you in action, remember. I have little doubt you
could land a place on a professional team,” he said to her eyes.

”You are so hot when you talk about Quidditch, did you know that,” she asked him as she pulled him down into a
deep kiss.

”Mmm, is that so? Well...you’re pretty hot when you play Quidditch,” he said, kissing her again until they found
themselves engaged in a Quidditch-induced snog, after which they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

At breakfast, Harry asked Ginny to nail Pig down so he could send his reply to Kingsley. He didn’t have the heart
to impose on poor old Errol. He wrote only two words: We accept. As post owls go, Pigwidgeon was a bit
high-strung, but he did his job and Harry knew his message would find its proper recipient.

Next, he Apparated to Hogsmeade and walked to Hogwarts castle. As he approached a strange feeling lodged in
his gut. Hogwarts was one of his favorite places in the whole world, but it also reminded him of the battle.
Entering the castle he saw flashes of the dead, of dueling wizards and witches, and of Voldemort pointing his
wand at him. He met sir Nicholas floating just outside the Great Hall.

”Harry, my boy,” Sir Nicholas called cheerfully. ”How are you?”

"Sir Nicholas! I’m well, thanks. Listen, is professor McGonagall in her office?"

"I believe so, Harry." The Gryffindor ghost disappeared through the wall and Harry continued to the Gargoyle.

"I would like to speak with the headmistress" Harry said, not knowing the password. The gargoyle spun and
revealed the stairs leading up to the office. He knocked on the door.

”Come,” she said simply.

"Professor McGonagall," he greeted.

She looked up from her parchments. "Harry, this is a pleasant surprise," she replied.

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"I have, after much consideration and a chat with Ginny, decided to accept your offer."

"Splendid, Harry. Welcome back to Hogwarts! I will send you anything you need that Hogwarts can provide. Rest
assured that the Hogwarts staff and I are at your disposal should you need us,” she said with a rare smile.

”I’d feel much more comfortable teaching here than at the Ministry. Would it be possible to have a classroom?”

”That can be arranged,” Professor McGonagall promised.

”I will need a place to sleep, but I don't think the dorm would be appropriate,” he reasoned.

”That can be arranged as well. Anything else, Mr Potter?”

”Not that I can think of right off hand. Thank you, Professor.”

”Well then, Mr Potter, we’ll see you on the first of September,” she said as she took his hand in a formal
farewell.

Harry arrived back at the Burrow an hour later and spent the rest of the day with Ginny. He had never been
happier. He was going back to Hogwarts, sort of. He would work with the DA, but most important to him was
that he would be able to stay close to Ginny.

The next day, Harry and Ginny were awoken when Molly threw that morning’s edition of the Daily Prophet over
them. "Harry, is this true?"

"Is what true," he asked, reaching for his glasses.

"Let me read it then," Molly said summoning the paper back into her hands.
"Harry Potter Develops Dumbledore's Army
The Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts have offered Harry Potter an official teaching position to take up the training
of Dumbledore's Army at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The plan is to incorporate the members
into a restored Auror Office

'The Auror Office sustained losses during the war. Members of Dumbledore's Army are the most-qualified
candidates to replace those lost,’ Kingsley Shacklebolt stated in a press release yesterday.
The Auror Office is busy rounding up Death Eaters still at large, rendering them incapable of running an Auror
Training Program this semester. Harry Potter, though he's not yet an Auror himself, will train Dumbledore's Army
with the assistance of the Ministry and Hogwarts staff to prepare them for the extensive battery of Auror exams.
'Short of an Auror Training Program, this will do just as well,' Hogwarts Headmistress Minerva McGonagall
commented yesterday afternoon.
Minister Shacklebolt added that 'Any members of Dumbledore's Army who wish to become Aurors must pass the
compulsory battery of exams to receive their licences.' It's certain that the members of this exemplary team will
indeed earn their positions with the Auror Office."

Molly laid the paper in her lap and looked at her surrogate son with beaming pride.

"It's true. Professor McGonagall and Kingsley asked me the day before yesterday. That’s what my appointment
with him was about," Harry told her. ”I didn’t want to say anything until I talked about it with Ginny.” He took
his love’s hand and kissed it.

”The two of you! One the Quidditch captain and the other teaching future Aurors.” We couldn’t be prouder,”
Molly cried as she took them into one of her patented hugs.

Ron and Hermione returned to the Burrow the day before Ginny's birthday, having spent some real quality time
with Hermione's parents. Harry and Ginny welcomed them home with hugs and backslapping. The four of them
hadn’t realised how much they’d missed each other.

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"Congratulations by the way, Harry! I guess you will have no problem becoming an Auror if you really want to,"
Hermione said.

"Thanks, Hermione. Listen, would you excuse me for a bit? I'd like to talk to Ron outside," Harry asked shunting
his best friend toward the door.

”Come on, Hermione,” said Ginny reaching for her bag. ”Let’s get you settled back in while they talk about
whatever it is blokes talk about.” Hermione nodded and they climbed the stairs giggling.

"It’ll be really strange not having you around Hogwarts with us, mate, but I'm sure I’ll be able to come by the
shop for a visit," Harry said, trying to work up the nerve to tell Ron what he really needed to tell him.

"Yeah, I know. It's a bit weird, but I actually feel pretty good about working for George right now. Besides, I
need a break from studies. I still might want to be an Auror one day, but not yet."

"Whenever you’re ready, Ron, but that's not why I wanted to talk to you," Harry said with a serious air.

"What's up mate," Ron asked a bit concerned.

"Tomorrow morning, I’m going to ask Ginny to marry me. I want to do it when it's just the family at home. Since
you’re my best mate and Ginny's brother, I wanted you to know ahead of time. I have already talked to Arthur
and he’s given me his permission, but he doesn't know that I’m asking her tomorrow. Don’t say anything, not
even to Hermione," Harry said.

"Harry, that’s great...and mum’s the word!"

"Excellent! If she says yes I’m hoping the wedding will be next summer after school is finished."

"If she says yes? Harry, mate, do really have any doubts?"

"No, not really. And Ron, assuming there is a wedding, I'd like you to be my best man."

”It would be my honour, mate,” Ron replied, slapping Harry on the back. ”And my great pleasure fixing the Stag
night,” he said with a conspiratorial wink.

That evening after supper, the four friends gathered in Ron’s room and caught up on all the news fit to print and
some that wasn’t. They stayed up late laughing and joking until yawns overtook them all and they bade each
other goodnight. Harry and Ginny descended to their room, leaving Ron and Hermione to their own devices.
They changed into their nightclothes and climbed into bed, too tired for a bedtime snog. They tenderly kissed
each other goodnight with whispered wishes for sweet dreams, and fell asleep once again in one another’s
embrace.

Harry awoke feeling as though he’d been hexed with a Jelly Legs jinx. Perfect, she’s still asleep. He carefully
slipped out of bed and retrieved the box containing his mother’s emerald engagement ring. Ginny opened her
eyes as Harry kissed her, wishing her a happy Coming-of-Age birthday. They shared a passionate kiss that
allowed her to come fully to her senses. ”I have something for you,” he said as he held her face in his hands.
You are so beautiful when you first wake up.

She sat up as he collected his thoughts and gulped. Easy, Potter. This is it. He gazed longingly into her eyes and
began. "Ginny, I love you more than life itself. I can’t imagine any kind of future without you,” he said with a
slight blush.

Ginny looked at him in wonder. Is he really... She didn’t dare hope he was doing what she thought he was
doing.

Harry paused to take a breath and then fell to one knee, taking her hand in his.

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Oh my gosh, he is! Oh yes, Harry, yes!

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you please marry me," he asked her
hopefully, tears filling his eyes. Harry held out the box in his other hand and opened it, revealing the ring.

Ginny briefly wondered if she could cast a charm to make sure this wasn't a dream. Tears streamed down her
face. "Oh yes, Harry! I will! I’ll marry you,” she cried.
Harry gently raised Ginny’s left hand a slipped the ring on her finger as he kissed her tenderly on the lips. She
threw her arms around him, returning his kiss. Salt tears fell down both of their faces as their kiss deepened.
They held each other and cried into one another’s necks.

”Harry, I love you so much. I’d hoped for so long...” she said as she swallowed back sobs, tears still running.

”I know, Gin. I know. Thank you for saying yes,” he declared as he pulled her into a desperate embrace. ”You’ve
made me so happy, my heart, my own. So unbelievably happy,” he said, leaving little kisses all over her face.

Ginny looked at the ring. ”Harry, this ring...it’s beautiful! I’ve never seen anything so lovely,” she breathed.

"It was my mother's," he told her.

"Then I’ll cherish it all the more,” she said, more tears stealing down her cheek. ”Getting to know your mother
through her diary, and learning how much she and your dad loved each other, I am honoured to wear it.”

”She was as strong and brave as you are,” Harry said cradling her tiny frame in his arms. Ginny attacked Harry
with kisses again until they realised they were late for breakfast.

”Morning, all,” Harry and Ginny said together, and sat down to eat. Ginny’s birthday presents lay piled in the
center of the table.

Ron, Hermione, Molly, and Arthur were already in the kitchen eating. Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry, who
with a nod, confirmed that he had indeed proposed. Ron smiled and mouthed, Good on ya, mate!

”Ginevra,” Molly said after a few minutes, in a tone that startled everyone. They all knew there always was a
very good reason for Molly to say Ginevra rather than Ginny. Immediately she smiled warmly and looked over at
her devilishly handsome new fiancé.

”Let me see your hand.”

Ginny stretched her right hand out and wiggled her fingers, trying to choke down a giggle.

”Your other hand, young lady,” Molly demanded with mock frustration.

Ginny’s face lit up as she extended her left hand showing off the ring.

”Harry, did you really...” Hermione screamed.

”He did,” Ginny confirmed.”And I said yes!”

”Harry!” Molly cried and looked at Ginny as tears welled up in her eyes. ”My baby girl! I have ...erm... I mean...
we have a wedding to plan!” She hurried around the table and hugged both of them.

"Morning or not," Arthur declared. "This calls for Firewhiskey, and since you’re now are of age, Ginny, you shall
have one too, whether you like it or not!" Laughter broke out around the breakfast table.

Molly had become speechless with joy, still hugging them both at the same time as Arthur summoned glasses
and a bottle of his finest Old Ogden's. Once everyone held a glass, Arthur spoke. "Harry, you have made my
daughter very happy and it’s quite evident that she makes you very happy. As Ginny's father, I couldn’t be
happier myself." Arthur’s eyes brightened with tears of pride for his daughter and soon-to-be-son-in-law.

"If I had known this when that sweet little lost boy found us at King's Cross..." Molly began, but she couldn’t
finish. She burst into tears.

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"As Ginny's brother, I’ll admit I've been somewhat overprotective..." Ron said, but paused when Ginny teased
him about the somewhat part. He blushed and snickered, but continued, "and as Harry's best friend I had to get
over the nausea and an urge to hex you the first time I caught you snogging my sister.” But I know you love
each other, so I wish you a very well-deserved happiness."

He’s so funny and sweet...and hot. "First of all I have to beg your forgiveness for my boyfriend, here, who has
apparently taken too many Bludgers to the head playing Quidditch." Hermione said with a smirk. She turned to
face Harry and Ginny "You are obviously meant to be together, that's all I can say," she said as she choked back
a sob.

Arthur looked at them. "Harry, even though we’ve thought of you as a member of this family for years, let me
be the first to officially welcome you. To Harry and Ginny! Slaínte!"

”Slaínte,” they repeated and threw back their drinks. Molly slipped one of Ginny’s presents from the pile. Her
family looked at her questioningly.

"It was a clock, but now I'll just put the two of you in the clock Harry got last year," she said sheepishly.
Everyone laughed.

Ginny's birthday was quieter than Harry's had been. Charlie came all the way from Romania where he'd visited
his friends, Bill and Fleur, Percy, and George and Katie came to dinner that evening to celebrate Ginny’s special
birthday. No one mentioned the engagement. In fact, they had a bet on about who would notice first. Ron bet on
Fleur and won.

"Geeny, eez zat what I sink it eez," Fleur asked her excitedly.

"Yes, it is. Harry asked me to marry him this morning," she said, proudly holding out her hand for Fleur to
inspect.

Conversation stopped. Bill, who had been standing a little bit offside, looked at them, eyes wide. "What are you
saying, Sis? Are you getting married?"

"Yes, after I finish school," she replied, gazing lovingly at Harry.

"Boys," Bill said matter-of-factly to his brothers, "our little sister will beat you all! Ginny and Harry,
congratulations!" He gave each of them a big hug. There was no mistaking that the Weasley family were thrilled
about the engagement.

"It’s about time we had some happiness in this family," George said with a relieved smile.

”True, that,” Ron replied as he pulled Hermione in close to his side, kissing the top of her head. And someday,
lovely lady, you’ll be a bride too if I have anything to say about it.

Later on in the evening, Harry found himself alone with Bill near the fireplace. ”Congratulations brother,” Bill
said. ”I can tell you make Ginny very happy. You’re both glowing. And congratulations on your new job, too.”

Harry felt a little shy. He liked Bill but didn't know him that well. But he didn't mind getting to know him better.
”Brother,” Harry asked.

”Yes, you’ll be my brother-in-law,” Bill reminded him.

”That's right. Wow,” Harry said as a grin spread across his face.

”Harry,” Bill said. ”I heard you were at Gringotts earlier this summer. I must say, you handled yourself
brilliantly.”

”Thanks. I don't have much knowledge about Goblins but I guess previous dealings and what you taught me
helped. I hope I didn't put you into trouble after breaking in. I don't know how much they actually know, but it's
no secret I'm close to your family...”

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”Our family Harry, you're officially part of it now. And no, I didn't get into any trouble. By the way, I talked to
Mum about inviting you and Ginny to Shell Cottage. Would you like to come for a few days?”

”I’d love to. Have you said anything to Ginny yet?”

”No, you do that, and let us know. Fleur is very fond of both of you, you know.”

”Bill, you are really great. I'm really glad I’ve gotten to know you a little better,” Harry said.

”Wait until we’ve shared a bottle of Firewhiskey,” Bill laughed. ”Honestly, I'm glad to get to know you better too.
You’re all right, Harry.”

”Oi! Ginny! Presents,” called Ron as Molly placed Harry’s rearranged clock with the other gifts. It was now a
clock showing both Harry and Ginny on its hands. The Weasley family had bought one collective present for
Ginny.

”A Firebolt,” she squealed.

”You’ll need that to defend the House Cup,” Arthur said proudly.
Harry's present was a locket that matched the engagement ring. It was heart-shaped, and inside was room for
pictures of himself and Ginny. The combined birthday and engagement party continued on until midnight when
they all trooped off to bed, Molly orchestrating their movements. Harry and Ginny closed the door to their room,
stripped down to tee shirts and shorts, and climbed into bed.

”Ginny, Bill asked me if we wanted to visit him and Fleur for a few days at Shell Cottage. I...I’d like to go,” he
said. ”What do you think?”

”That’d be great.” Ginny said.

”You know, Bill figured out about us back at Hogwarts, but he didn't freak out like Ron.”

”I have a different relationship with each of my brothers, probably because they’re each different in their own
way. Bill is just that much older, almost like an extra father. Charlie, Fred and George were the ones who loved
pulling pranks on their little sister. Percy was the one who told Mum if they broke the rules, or if I did at
payback time. Ron, being the little brother, only had his little sister to tease, because if he did something to Fred
and George they always got him back. I love my brothers, even Percy, but in a way, Bill has always been the
one I felt closest to.”

”He called me Brother today” Harry said. He held Ginny close as a few tears escaped.

”You have a family now, Harry. We are your family and I love you so much.”

She raised her face to Harry’s and pressed her lips to his, pouring all of her love and compassion into every
precious second of it. His tongue flicked against her lips, begging for access. She opened her mouth and the kiss
intensified. The familiar molten lava shot through their bodies as their desire for one another enveloped them,
taking over their every thought.

This is it, Gin. Tonight’s the night. Pausing for breath, Ginny looked at Harry and whispered, "Harry, I’m of age
now."

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied, his breathing as ragged as hers. At the very thought, his arousal strained against
fabric. He crushed her into a desperate embrace, capturing her mouth in a mind-blowing kiss.

Ginny found the hem of his shirt and slid her hands up under it to caress his chest and massage the muscles of
his back. Harry moaned and tore his mouth from hers. ”Merlin, Gin.” They continued snogging, exploring one
another’s bodies, lost in their love for one another.

”Harry,” Ginny breathed into his ear. He sucked in another ragged breath as she nipped his ear lobe. She traced
his calf muscle with her foot as she bit at the flesh of his chest.

”Mmm hmmm,” Harry moaned into her smooth shoulder. He lingered at her pulse point, biting and licking. She

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whimpered and almost cried out. Merlin, I’m about to explode. Why is he holding back?

”Oh gods,” she gasped as she caught her breath. ”Harry, I’m naked under my shirt and shorts,” she purred into
his ear again. ”No knickers tonight,” Ginny coaxed.
”Are you,” he asked in an adrenaline-induced fog, his resolve beginning to crumble. Did she say ’no knickers?’
Harry captured her mouth with his and slipped his tongue between her lips once again, joining hers in a wild
dance. Exploring, ever exploring. Their hearts pounded in one another’s ears, Harry whispered seductively. ”I
love you, Gin. I love you so much.”

Breasts heaving and pressing into his chest, Ginny wrapped a slender leg around his waist. ”I can’t hold on much
longer, Harry,” she panted, as she took a fistful of his soft raven hair and pulled his head up, forcing him to look
at her with those magnificent emerald eyes. They had turned dark with desire. Just let go, love.

”Gin...” he moaned, as his arousal throbbed painfully behind its cotton barrier.

Ginny threw off her tee shirt and kicked off her shorts.”I don’t want to wait any more. I want you, Harry. I need
you,” she growled with a blazing look that screamed undying love and unbridled passion.

Stunned, Harry stared at her in all her glory. He couldn’t speak, for he was consumed with the awe of her.
Merlin, she’s gorgeous! She’s perfect. Her hair, her lips, her...everything.

”Gin, I...” Harry stammered, still taken up in her exquisite beauty. She wants to... Harry blushed at the very
thought.

"For Merlin's sake, Harry, we’re getting married, we are both of age, and I want you right here and right now,"
she demanded, literally tearing his shirt off and throwing it across the room.

Usually shy about his own nakedness, he didn’t feel compelled to fight her as she pressed her thumbs between
his hips and the waistband of his boxers. Staring defiantly into his eyes, she slipped them down, down.
Mesmerised, he felt himself rise up and soon she had set him free. His boxers lay forgotten in the tangle of
sheets at the foot of the bed. Merlin! She really...this is it, Potter. She pulled him over on top of her into another
steaming kiss. He breathed in her scent and the last bastion of his reason gave way.

The volcano that boiled with their mutual desire erupted into ecstasy as they pressed their naked bodies
together. Harry’s kisses traveled down her neck to her pulse point and up to the spot right behind her ear where
he knew one flick of his tongue would drive her wild. ”That’s so good, Harry,” she whimpered, as he left tiny
bites back down her slender neck to her collarbone. She bit into his shoulder as her nails raked across the plain
of his back.

”Ginny. My beautiful, sweet Ginny,” he murmured into her hair as his hand brushed the soft globe of her breast.
She arched in to him and moved naturally to receive him. ”I don’t want to hurt you, love,” Harry said into her
eyes.

”I’ll be okay, I promise,” Ginny assured him. ”Please, Harry. Take me,” she breathed. ”Take me now.” He
crushed his lips onto hers as they become one for the first time. Their heads spun as the world melted away with
the heat of their passion. Settling into a rhythm, they gazed into each other’s eyes, even as they climaxed.
Thoroughly spent, they lay gasping together in one another’s arms basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

"I don't know how it's possible, but I love you even more," Ginny confessed in wonder, planting wet kisses all
over Harry’s chest.

”I was just thinking the same thing,” Harry admitted. ”I believe that maybe it might bear further research,” he
grinned, pulling her over on top of him.

”Why Professor Potter,” she giggled, leaning down to kiss the corners of his smile. They made love again before
falling asleep in their customary embrace.

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The next day, Ginny dragged Hermione off as Bill, Charlie, Harry and Ron played two-on-two Quidditch. Percy
had already left and George had to work to do, so had left with Katie. Ginny was so overcome with emotion she
just had to have some girl talk with her best friend.

"Hermione, we did it," Ginny whispered excitedly.

"Who? Did what?"

"It... me and Harry."

"As in..." Hermione seemed to get it.

"... shagging, yes! It was so incredibly and utterly wonderful," Ginny whispered.

Hermione gave Ginny a big hug. "I'm so happy for you."

"Have you and Ron..."

"... been shagging," Hermione finished, then blushed. "Well yes, and I thought I'd have to put the Imperius
curse on him the first time."

"The two of you are so cute together... actually, Harry needed some...uh...encouragement too.”

”What,” Hermione asked.

”I kind of...ripped his clothes off,” she giggled with a wicked grin.

”That's pretty much what I had to do with Ron, but the second time, it was the other way round.” Hermione told
her.

”Hermione,” Ginny began. ”I know it won't be until next summer, but will you be my Maid of Honour?"

"Ginny, I'd be happy to. After all, my two best friends are getting married...to each other!"

The next several days passed in a flurry of activity, with several visits to Diagon Alley to gather the things Ginny
and Hermione would need for school. During one particular visit, Harry took Ginny into Gringotts to set up his
vault as theirs.

"Harry, you don't have to do this," Ginny said, staring at all the gold.
"But I want to. This is all ours now, anyway."

Their day ended up a bit dragged out because people still wanted to talk to them and shower them with praise
and thanks. They stopped for lunch, where they were able to look over a copy of the Daily Prophet someone had
left on the table. The second page carried a full report of the Malfoy trial during which Narcissa Malfoy had been
cleared of all charges, thanks to Harry’s deposition. Draco Malfoy, who had been underage during most of the
war had simply been fined 100 Galleons. Lucius Malfoy, however, took the full rap for his involvement with
Voldemort as a full-fledged Death Eater. He was sentenced to 10 years in Azkaban with a lifetime ban against
ever practicing magic in Britain again. Since his own wand had been shattered when Voldemort had tried to use
it against Harry, Malfoy had been handed a fake one simply so the Wizengamot would have something to take
from him and snap.

”So Draco managed to stay out of prison,” Ginny commented.

”Yes, and ten years for Lucius. I thought he'd get a life sentence, but that whole thing with the fake wand. I
have to wonder if that was really necessary. It seems kind of cruel,” Harry said shaking his head slowly.

”Lucius Malfoy was a cruel man. Don’t forget about that damned diary,” Ginny said coldly.

”Yeah, that was pretty low, wasn’t it,” Harry agreed. And I might have lost you because of it.

Within a week of the engagement, the Daily Prophet ran a story proclaiming it to the world. Harry and Ginny

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guessed someone must have seen the ring on her finger on one of their visits to Diagon Alley. Harry and Ginny
didn’t see any sense in keeping their happy news a secret, so they confirmed the story, saying they planned to
marry the following summer after finishing school. Perhaps the editors of the Daily Prophet felt the same need
for good news that the Weasley family did after all the hashing and rehashing of the war, the countless
memorials, and coverage of the Death Eater trials.

”The Chosen One – The Future Mrs Potter


On 11 August, Harry Potter proposed to his girlfriend, Ginny Weasley. The couple are now engaged and plan to
wed next summer after Miss Weasley's final year at Hogwarts. The couple sent the Daily Prophet the following
statement:
'We are happy to announce our official engagement. We wish to thank the Wizarding community for generally
respecting our privacy; however, our friends have told us about some rumours that have been circulating
concerning the circumstances of our engagement. We assure you that those rumours are just that. Rumours.
Ginny is not pregnant, and we do not have a baby. We do, however, have a godson who was born this past
spring and orphaned during the war. We try to spend time with him on a regular basis.
Harry J. Potter, OMFC Ginevra M. Weasley, OMSC

According to Lee Jordan, Press Secretary for Mr Potter and Miss Weasley, Miss Weasley wears Lily Potter's
engagement ring. It is a square-cut emerald in a gold setting. He also confirms that the Weasley family are
delighted to officially welcome Mr Potter into the family he already has been considered a part of for many years.”
The Daily Prophet congratulates Mr Potter and Miss Weasley on their upcoming nuptials.

She read the Daily Prophet, thinking about her plan. Harry Potter would was going to marry his woman and very
likely become an Auror. Maybe that gave her a rough timetable for her plan to destroy his world. Yes, soon after
the marriage, when Potter would think he'd live happily ever after, that would be the time to strike. It also gave
her a lot of time to perfect her plan.

At the moment, though, the hunt for Death Eaters was far too intense. If she waited, it would give her a better
chance. She would have to involve others, but secrecy was important. If she were successful, no one would
know what hit them until it was too late. But she needed back-up plans. A plan of this scope would only have
one shot. If plan A failed, she needed a plan B, C and D. Executing maybe four coordinated plans might increase
the chances of success, but also demand more people. More people meant a greater risk of exposure.

Plans had to be made and it was time to contact trustworthy people. She needed to know more about the
changes at the Ministry in order to avoid detection and maximize the odds of pulling this off. Her only current
sources of information were rumours and the Daily Prophet, but that was not acceptable any longer. She needed
someone with a genuine knowledge of Muggles to seek out and mark possible targets and the best way and
place to kill them in the Muggle world. Her own knowledge of Muggles was simply not vast enough. A maniacal
grin began to twist around her mouth as she began to formulate the next steps of her ultimate plan of
destruction.

Chapter 5: Returning to Hogwarts


[View Online] [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Chapter 5 – Returning to Hogwarts

Harry and Ginny had accepted Bill’s invitation for a few days’ holiday at Shell Cottage before the start of the
new term at Hogwarts. This would be their first flight from the nest as a couple and they were excited at the
prospect. They awoke that morning spooned together with Harry’s arm wrapped tightly around Ginny’s middle.

”Hey you,” he said, kissing her shoulder. ”You awake yet?”


I am now. ”Mmm hmm,” she said as her body tensed and stretched itself. She rolled over to face her fiancé.
”Hi,” she whispered, giving him a good morning kiss. ”D’joo sleep well?”

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”Never better,” he replied with a sleepy smile. You’re beautiful first thing in the morning.

They continued to kiss and caress each other as they woke up the rest of the way. There would be no snogging
this morning, however, because they were due at Shell Cottage before lunch and they still had to pack their kits
for the few days they’d be there.

”I suppose we should get up,” she sighed, stroking Harry’s face.

”Just a few more minutes,” he asked in a mock-begging tone.

”No, love. But I promise we’ll have lots of time for lazy waking on our holiday,” she cooed, kissing him on the
nose. Then she gave him a light pinch on the bum. ”Now, you have the shower first and I’ll sort through clothes,
yeah?”

”I’ll save you some hot water. I...uh...don’t think I’ll be needing much,” he said flicking his eyes southward.

Ginny blushed. ”You’ve got yourself in a right state, haven’t you,” she snickered.

”It’s all down to you, love,” he chuckled, slinging a clean towel over his shoulder. ”It’s all down to you.” And I
shall exact my revenge first chance I get.

”Hit the showers, you randy git,” she laughed.

There were ready to leave in about a half hour. They hurried downstairs for a quick bite of toast and a cuppa,
then shouldered their rucksacks and made for the door. ”We’ll send an owl when we get there, Mum,” Ginny
called as they stepped out the door. They hurried to the Burrow’s Apparition spot where Harry took her hand
and they were gone with a pop!

They Apparated on the outskirts of a quaint village Ginny didn’t recognize. She looked around trying to get her
bearings, but at a loss, she gave Harry a bewildered look. "Were are we,” she asked still holding Harry's hand
and with no intention of letting go.

"Just outside Godric's Hollow. I wanted to introduce you to my parents before we go on to Shell Cottage...or
rather, take you to their graves..." His voice betrayed him as he began to tremble.

"You must miss them terribly," Ginny said sympathetically, holding him tighter.
Harry wasn’t sure if it was possible for him to truly miss his parents since his memory of them was so sketchy.
He had painted pictures in his mind of and about them when he was little just to fill the lonely hours he spent
locked up in the cupboard-under-the-stairs. He hadn’t even known what they looked like until he saw them
smiling sadly back at him in the Mirror of Erised his first hear at Hogwarts.

At the end of that same year, when Hagrid presented him with his then most prized possession, a photo album
containing visual memories of his parents, the paintings became more vivid and defined...but his loneliness for
them increased. The little he’d since learned about them came from people who had been precious and
important figures in his parents’ life—Harry’s life—but they, too, had been taken.
Sirius...Dumbledore...Remus...and even that traitorous back-stabbing rat, Pettigrew. With the exception of his
mother’s recently-discovered diary, their graves and the ruin of their once-happy home were all Harry had left
of Lily and James Potter.

’Harry, my love? You okay,” Ginny asked, shaking him from his reverie. ”You’re trembling.” Her eyes began to
burn with tears she tried to blink away. She could almost feel his pain smothering her as she ran her warm hand
along his back. He tensed a little, and then relaxed again.

There was a heaviness in Harry’s chest as he drew in a deep breath. "I...I never knew them, really. I mean,
don’t remember them...but I miss them. Mum's diary is the closest I’ll get to ever really knowing them. It's her
own words," he said, choking back tears. They had continued to sit up in bed together and read from Lily's diary

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almost every night before they went to sleep. ”Everything else I know is what others have told me about them.”

Harry led Ginny through the town square where the Potter Memorial stood. On the other side lay the graveyard
where his parents had been laid to rest almost 17 years before. They picked their way through the headstones,
carefully respecting the graves of the others buried there, Muggle and Wizard alike. Harry finally found a double
grave marked POTTER. He conjured a single white rose with a flick of his wand and laid it in front of the
headstone bearing his parents’ names.

Harry swallowed back a sob and addressed Lily and James reverently. ”Mum, Dad, this is my fiancée, Ginny.
Mum, I gave her your ring. It’s a perfect fit. We’re going to be married next summer. Dad, she’s a red head just
like Mum, and just as beautiful. I guess it’s something in the Potter blood, yeah? I’m sure you’d understand how
much I love her when I tell you that I would die for her. I know you’d love her too, because she means
everything to me.” He paused a moment and then fixed his eyes on his parents’ headstone, he said, ”Mum and
Dad, I hope you know that Tom Riddle is dead and that you can be at peace now,” Harry said in benediction
because he could no longer hold back his tears.

Ginny’s tears flowed as readily as Harry’s as she spoke to Lily and James herself. "He is a sweet, kind, loving,
and annoyingly noble man whom I love so much that there are no words to describe it. When he told you he
would die for me, it was the truth. He did, but because of your deep love for him, he was able to come back to
me.” She let out a small sob and wiped her face with her handkerchief. ”Harry proposed to me on my birthday,
and as you can probably imagine, it was my best birthday ever. Lily, Harry told me this ring belonged to you,
and because of that I shall treasure it always. James, Harry is an exact copy of you. He’s sweet, funny, cute,
brave, noble, and an amazingly powerful wizard. He’s a born leader and people really respect him. You should be
proud of your son. I sure am."

Harry and Ginny stood silently for a little while, clinging desperately to each other, letting their tears flow
unashamedly. ”Harry, thanks for bringing me to visit them,” she said, her heart full. ”I’m so honoured to love
their son so much and be their daughter-in-law.”

”I love you, Ginny,” Harry whispered. ”And somehow I just know they’d love you too.” He leaned in and kissed
her passionately, but sweetly. It was all right now. They had declared their love for one another before his
parents just as they had before hers, and strengthened it in the bargain. Finally, they bid Lily and James Potter
goodbye and Apparated outside the wards around Shell Cottage, where Bill and Fleur greeted them in the yard.

”Welcome, ’Arry! Welcome, Geeny!” Fleur greeted them with kisses on both cheeks.

”We expected you a bit earlier,” Bill said with a little hint of relief as he hugged both of them.

”Harry took me to Godric's Hollow and introduced me to his parents,” Ginny said.

”Zat is so sweet,” Fleur said.

Fleur showed them to their room where they stowed their rucksacks. She then took Ginny window shopping in
the nearby village while Bill and Harry sat in the garden talking over Butterbeers.

”Do you remember when I told you I thought the two of you were shining back at Hogwarts,” Bill asked.

”Yes, I do. I even talked with your dad about it at the Burrow.” Harry told Bill about Arthur's thoughts about a
bond.

”I agree with Dad. There is something more than love between the two of you. I don't know, but maybe I notice
because I am married to a part-Veela. You see, there is more than emotion at work when a Veela falls in love,”
Bill told Harry, gesturing toward him with his bottle.

”Bill, do you think it’s the protection that my sacrifice should have created that was transformed into a magical
bond between me and Ginny?”

”That would be my guess,” Bill said thoughtfully, scratching his chin. ”The protection your mother's sacrifice
created alone is ancient magic, obscurely mystic. It’s also very rare because of the deep love required to create
it. What happened with that magic when you didn't die is a phenomenon virtually unheard of.”

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”How so,” Harry asked, his curiosity piqued.

”Think about it, Harry. Think of all the unusual circumstances that led up to this. Your mother faced Voldemort,
willingly giving her own life to protect you, which saved you from the killing curse when you were a baby.
Roughly 16 years later, you faced Voldemort, willing to die to protect Ginny. And since she was your last
thought, the one whose image filled your heart and mind at the moment the killing curse hit you, that
protection you’d already established transformed into the bond you two now share,” Bill said.

”I don’t know about all that, but what I do know is that I have never been happier. Even when I'm not with her,
it's like she’s right there with me just the same,” Harry said. ”Does that make any sense at all?”

”It does. I think in a way she is there. I think the bond has somehow connected your minds...or souls. If you
explore it together, you might be able to learn more about it.”

”What do you mean?”

”I mean that maybe you can reach the connection—feel it, maybe use it and strengthen it,” Bill said. ”I’m not
really sure, but I’ll talk to Fleur about Veela magic, if it's all right with you. Maybe she’ll be able to help you
understand your connection better.”

Harry smiled. ”Of course it’s all right that you talk to Fleur. You and Fleur are my family.”

Bill and Harry had immersed themselves in further conversation about Hogwarts, Quidditch, and Bill’s childhood
memories of Ginny when she and Fleur returned a couple of hours later.

”So what are you laughing about,” Ginny asked when they found Bill and Harry in stitches.

”Bill just told me about the time Fred and George tricked you into turning on a cursed Muggle lawn mower
Arthur had smuggled home from work,” Harry snorted with mirth.

”Of course he did,” Ginny said with a mock simper, giving her wand a flick collapsing Bill's chair.

”What 'appened, and what eez a lawn mower,” Fleur asked, laughing as her husband crashed to the ground in a
heap.

”Well...” Ginny began. "As I remember it, the lawn mower dragged me off and chased after the Gnomes.”

Bill got up and put the chair back together. He was still laughing but continued the story. ”And it made a lot of
noise. Dad came out and caught Fred and George rolling around in the grass howling, Ginny being druh-dragged
around the yard behind that luh-lawnmower suh-screaming bloody muh-murder, and maybe ten swuh-swearing
Gnomes chasing all over the guh-garden. I came out suh-soon after and found Duh-dad running after Gi-Ginny,
trying to stop the ruddy thing chuh-chasing the swearing Gnomes!” Bill had to stop for laughing so hard. The
others had fallen all over themselves, holding stitches in their sides. ”Fuh-Finally mum came out and somehow
jinxed the lawn mower...and it stopped immediately. Muh-Maybe she just looked at it, I’m not sure, but I'm
certain she can do wandless magic when she's furious. About the same time Fuh-fred and George ran for it with
Dad on their heels. All three of them knew they were going to have to come home sometime and answer to
Mum.”

”Oui! And knowing zem, zey were sure to ’ave ’unger sometime,” Fleur said in a rare stab at intentional humour.
They all burst into gales of laughter at Fleur’s astute observation. Harry pulled Ginny down into his lap as tears
of mirth rolled down their cheeks.
”Exactly! Fred and George had to work in the garden for a month after that to put it back in order,” Ginny
giggled. ”Of course, they were still under age so they had to do everything without magic. And Dad didn't dare
bring home anything remotely Muggle for months.”

”And Fleur,” Harry said, still laughing. "A lawn mower is a Muggle machine used to cut grass.” Harry added.
”Dead useful if you don’t try to charm them,” he said winking at Bill.

A little while later Fleur served a delicious dinner. The four of them drank wine and talked about how Bill and
Harry had proposed to Fleur and Ginny, respectively, and their plans for the future. Harry hadn’t packed the

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diary, so Ginny rolled Harry onto his belly and set to giving him a back massage. Harry groaned softly as her
warm hands worked the knots out of his tired muscles.

”Uhhhh...that feels so good, Gin,” Harry groaned. ”Where did you learn that?”

”Mum taught me,” she said matter-of-factly. ”I have six...five...Quidditch-playing brothers...and a father who
tends to get himself into trouble with Muggle toys,” she said. They both snickered.

”Judging from this, you must’ve been a quick study,” he complimented her. ”Oh! Right there! Oh yeah...”

Ginny continued to knead his back and shoulders as her desire for him began to well up from somewhere in the
pit of her stomach. She climbed over and straddled him, resting carefully on the small of his back. ”How’s this,”
she purred, leaning down to place a kiss on the back of his neck.

”Mmmm, that’s nice,” he sighed. She continued to work the muscles of his upper back. ”You’re so good at this,
Gin.”

”I’ve had lots of practice,” she cooed. She began to run her hands along his sides, still massaging him, but no
longer kneading. She leaned forward over his back once again and nipped the back of his ear. She breathed him
in. Woodsy and spicy. So...Harry.

”Gin...” Harry moaned. Merlin, that feels amazing. ”You...I...we...we can’t do that here.”

She continued to tease and massage his shoulders. ”Do what, my love,” she replied innocently.

”You know what, you little minx,” Harry replied trying to roll her off himself.

”Why, Harry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ginny teased.
That does it! Revenge! He quickly rolled over underneath her and caught her around the waist. In a trice he had
her at his mercy on her back. He grinned evilly into her chocolate eyes, his own emerald ones twinkling with
mischief. He made as though to kiss her when he suddenly switched gears and began to tickle her mercilessly
until she begged for mercy.

”Harry! Please! Stop,” she squealed, wriggling like a worm on a hook.

”Not until you promise to behave ’til we get home,” he said.


”Never!’

”Never,” he asked wickedly. ”Well, if you’re sure...”

He began to tickle her again until she finally gave in. "Okay, okay,” she panted, still giggling."I give!”

”You’ll behave?”

”Yes! I’ll behave,” she promised, sticking her bottom lip out. Harry leaned down and captured it between his
own. She slid her hands over his chest and tangled them in his messy raven locks. They settled into a satisfying
goodnight snog before they collapsed, exhausted, in one another’s arms and fell asleep.

Harry and Ginny spent the next three days at Shell Cottage, taking leisurely walks along the beach, picking up
trinkets at the shops in the village, sharing ice creams, and watching the seagulls. After dinner on their last
night, the four of them sat in front of the fire, sipping elf-made wine. Harry and Fleur regaled Ginny and Bill
with tales of the Triwizard Tournament. Bill roared with laughter as his wife and sister told him about how Ron
had asked Fleur to the Yule Ball. Harry remembered that day in the common room when Ginny and the others
escorted Ron through the portrait hole, shaken and dazed. ”He looked like he’d seen a troll,” Harry cried,
laughing.

”It was just that the prat didn’t merely ask you, Fleur; he screamed at you,” Ginny howled.

”Ohhh, eet wasn’t zat bad! Eet was very sweet of Ron to ask me,” Fleur said, defending her youngest brother-
in-law. All of a sudden, she collapsed on her husband’s chest, shaking with laughter. ”Eet was ’eesterical, wasn’t
eet?” They all burst into fits of laughter again, gasping for air, as Bill poured more wine.

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Bill and Fleur and Harry and Ginny laughed and talked into the night until the flames died to glowing embers in
the fireplace. They yawned and stretched as they arose from the rug and exchanged hugs all around. They bade
each other a fond goodnight, with Bill and Fleur inviting Harry and Ginny to come visit again soon. Harry and
Ginny, slightly tipsy and very sleepy, dragged themselves onto the bed, cuddled up in their customary position
and drifted into dreamless sleep.

The final week leading up the the fall term at Hogwarts found Harry working diligently on the training schedule
for Dumbledore’s Army. Every so often, he’d take a break and watch Ginny practice with her Firebolt. She was a
natural talent, but claimed she owed her skill to the will to survive playing Quidditch with her brothers. How did
I land such an amazing woman?

Harry and Ginny spent as much free time together as they could. Ron busied himself at the shop with George
making sure that they had enough stock on hand so that each Hogwarts student could stock up with ample
supplies to drive Argus Filch and that demonic cat of his to distraction. Hermione split her time between Ron and
her parents. Both Harry and Ginny suspected that she had managed to read every seventh year textbook cover-
to-cover before the beginning of term. Otherwise, Harry and Ginny and her parents had the Burrow to
themselves.
On the first of September, Harry and Ginny made final checks of their trunks. Harry shrunk them and stowed
them in his rucksack. They ate a huge send-off breakfast and Apparated to King’s Cross Station where Hermione
and Ron would meet them. Molly and Arthur were right behind to see them off. They all passed through the
barrier onto Platform 9 ¾. Ron was easy to spot, since he was so tall, so they made their way through the chaos
over to him and Hermione. It was only then that they noticed people staring at them.

”People do that,” Ron said with a shrug. ”George says it’s been great for business. Everyone seems to come into
the shop just to see me, one of The Golden Trio, as they put it.”

”Tell me about it. Apart from the press, everyone seems to stare at me now more than ever before, or they all
want to talk to me whenever I'm in public.” Harry said. ”It’s mental.”

”Let's just try to get on the train and out of sight,” Hermione said, taking Ron’s arm.

Molly and Arthur hugged Ginny, Hermione, and Harry each goodbye in turn. ”Have a good term, dears,” Molly
called as their children turned to board the Hogwarts Express.

As the four of them made their way to the train, several people stopped to greet and thank them. Ginny was the
one who had been the least-approached in public all summer, so she blushed as she received congratulations on
her engagement from complete strangers, or praises for her bravery during the war. Hermione and Ron took it
all in stride, but Harry, even though used to the attention, still shied away from the hero worship. Finally they
made it onto the train and into an unoccupied compartment. Harry resized his and Ginny’s trunks and stowed
them overhead with their rucksacks.

With about ten minutes left to departure, Ron took Hermione in his arms to kiss her goodbye. Tears fell down
Hermione’s cheeks as she buried her bushy head in Ron’s chest. ”I wish you were coming with us. I’m going to
miss you so,” she sobbed.

”’Mione, I’ll be in Hogsmeade, not two clicks away,” Ron said, rubbing her back.

”I know, but it won’t be the same,” she said, holding tighter.

Ron placed a crooked index finger under her chin and raised it to look into her eyes. He leaned down and kissed
her tenderly and deeply. ”See you in Hogsmeade, love,” Ron said gently as he pulled her into a tight embrace.

”Hermione, we are of age we can go there anytime as long as we are back before the gates are locked for the
night,” Ginny said in an attempt to lift her friend’s spirits.

”That’s right, love. Now...chin up and give us a smile,” Ron chided her. She smiled for him and gave him one last

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hug and heartfelt kiss before he left the compartment and leapt off the train to join his parents on the platform.
Harry, Ginny, and Hermione, hung out the windows, as was tradition, and waved at their loved ones on the
platform until it rounded the bend and chugged out of sight.

The three of them had just made themselves comfortable, when there was a soft knock on their compartment
door and it slid open. Three little girls stepped in timidly as if afraid of a reprimand from the upperclassmen
inside. ”Are these seats taken,” one of them asked.

”No. C’mon in. Sit,” Ginny replied and the girls settled in.

As soon as they were seated, they noticed who they now shared a compartment with. They blushed furiously,
dropping their eyes into their laps. ”Oh, I'm sorry. Perhaps we should go someplace else.”

”Why? Besides, the train is probably full by now. I'm Harry Potter. What’s your name,” Harry asked, smiling
warmly. Were we that little?

”We know who you are, Mr Potter. You’re famous. I'm Emma Prewett. On my right is my twin sister Erica, but we
are not identical twins, and on my left is our friend Patricia Templeton.”

”Prewett,” Ginny repeated. ”We must be distant relatives. My mum was a Prewett, before she married my dad.
I'm Ginny Weasley.”

”Blimey, we’ve seen your picture in the Prophet,” the twins said, awestruck. ”You’re much prettier in real life.”

Ginny blushed. ”Why, thank you!”

”I'm Hermione Granger.” Hermione said, leaning forward to shake their hands. ”Are you going for your first
year?”

”Yes, and I'm very excited about it” Patricia said. ”You see I'm a Muggleborn and didn't know anything about...all
of this until a wizard visited my parents and explained everything.”

”We met Patricia in Diagon Alley and we became instant friends,” Erica added. Harry, Ginny and Hermione
smiled at the eagerness of these three little girls.

”I'm a Muggleborn too,” Hermione said proudly. Patricia's spirits rose.

”And she is the brightest witch in our class,” Harry added nodding at Hermione.

”Will you be our teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts, sir,” Emma asked Harry.

”No, I'm not a teacher. I'm working for the Minister for Magic and will be at Hogwarts and at the Ministry
training future Aurors,” Harry said with a slight blush.”But Professor McGonagall said she may ask me to teach a
class if there's no professor available. And please...call me Harry, not sir.”

Ginny raised her left hand to absentmindedly stow a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. Her emerald sparkled in
the sunlight coming in through the compartment window.

”Oooh...can I see your ring, please, Ginny,” Emma asked Ginny.

”Of course.” Ginny showed her the ring and told them how Harry proposed to her without going into too much
detail. The girls oohed in all the right places and blushed when Ginny told them about the kiss Harry gave her
after she said yes.

A few more nervous minutes passed until the three girls relaxed for the rest of a pleasant journey. They asked
dozens of questions about the Sorting Ceremony and the changing staircases. Hermione told them about the
library and all the wonderful books stored there. Ginny thought it might not be a bad idea to give them a

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heads-up about Peeves and the House Ghosts so they wouldn’t be frightened of them.
I can't believe I'm having such an uneventful trip to Hogwarts. It's almost scary! No Dementors, no insults from
Malfoy, no flying cars...

”Will you ride with us up to the school Harry,” Hermione asked.

”I guess so. We’ll ask Hagrid when we arrive in Hogsmeade.”

As little while later, Hermione noticed Erica staring at them. Harry and Ginny had been too busy staring at each
other.

”Yes, Erica,” Hermione asked.

”Well, there is one thing I'd like to ask,” she said shyly. ”Um...er...could you sign our Chocolate Frog cards?”

Harry and Ginny looked at her, nonplussed.

”And whose cards would those be,” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

”Yours, of course,” Emma giggled.

”We have Chocolate Frog cards,” Harry asked and looked at Ginny and Hermione.

”Yes. Didn't you read Lee’s letter telling us he would approve it unless we said otherwise? They were issued only
days ago,” Hermione told him.

”I guess I should read those letters from Lee more carefully,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head.

Ginny looked at him. ”Harry, love. You’ve been so kind to take the time to answer the children who write to
you...”

”Yes, those are the letters I always read,” Harry said to Hermione. ”I asked Lee to send me the letters from
children who lost family members in the war.”

Ginny turned to Erica. ”Of course we'll sign your cards...as a favour for being the ones who let us see them for
the first time.”

They handed them their cards. Emma, Erica, and Patricia listened in rapt attention as Harry read his card:
”Harry James Potter, OMFC
Also known as The-Boy-Who-Lived and The Chosen One. Harry Potter ended the First Wizarding War when
Voldemort was destroyed by his own killing curse. He then ended the Second Wizarding War after defeating and
killing Voldemort in a duel at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Mr Potter studied under his mentor, Albus Dumbledore, and is the only wizard known to have survived the killing
curse twice, both times through the mystical protection of his mother’s blood sacrifice. He is also the only wizard
known to protect himself from it, also twice, using a simple disarming charm under unique circumstances. PLEASE
DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.
Mr Potter became the youngest Seeker at Hogwarts in 100 years at age 11. His other notable achievements
include winning the Triwizard Tournament at age 14 and the Co-founding and Training of Dumbledore's Army at
age 15, He is noted for open attitude toward house-elves and other magical creatures. Awarded the Order of
Merlin, First Class. Engaged to Ginevra M. (Ginny) Weasley.”

”Harry James Potter. That’s a very nice name,” Patricia said going slightly pink. Then she gasped and her eyes
grew wide. She covered her mouth with her fingers in embarrassment. ”I...I shouldn’t have said that,” she said
staring down at her hands.

”Oh, I don’t know. Patricia’s a nice name too,” he replied with his sly Harry-grin and a wink. Patricia sighed in
relief. Harry signed the cards and nodded at Ginny. ”Your go, Gin.”

”Ginevra Molly (Ginny) Weasley


Miss Weasley is a Charter Member and Christener of Dumbledore's Army. In the last year of the Second
Wizarding War, Miss Weasley led a student resistance faction against Voldemort’s Death Eaters at Hogwarts

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School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Known to be powerful and skilled in a duel, her trademark is the much-feared
Bat-Bogey hex.
Miss Weasley is an accomplished Quidditch player, both as a Chaser and a Seeker, and favours the Holyhead
Harpies. Best known as the youngest witch in history awarded the Order of Merlin (Second Class) at age 16.
Engaged to Harry J. Potter.”

Ginny smiled wickedly at the mention of her Bat-Bogey hex.”Do you really fear it that much,” she asked eyes
wide in mock innocence. Both Harry and Hermione nodded. Enthralled, the three girls wanted to know exactly
what it was, so Ginny explained it to them.

”Be sure never to be at the receiving end of it,” Harry added when Ginny finished. ”Your turn, Hermione,” Harry
said.

”Hermione Jean Granger


Miss Granger asserts that she is proud her Muggleborn heritage, and is widely-considered the brightest witch of
her age. Long-time ally and friend to Harry Potter, she is a Co-founding member of Dumbledore’s Army. She is
an outspoken advocate for house-elf rights as well as those of other magical creatures. As a fierce and skilled
dueler, she was instrumental in the fall of Voldemort due to her vast knowledge of all types of spells and her cool
use of logic.
Her accomplishments include brewing Polyjuice potion in her second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry, and the successful casting of the Protean charm in her fifth year. She earned an amazing 10 O.W.L.s
with 9 O and 1 E. Awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class. The summer following the Battle of Hogwarts,
Hermione announced her official relationship with Ronald B. Weasley.”

”Wow,” breathed Erica. ”10 OWLs! I heard they’re really hard to get!”

”If you study hard and do your homework” Hermione said, shooting a furtive glance at Harry. "You can earn load
of OWLs too,” she promised.

”We will, Hermione,” the girls said together.

”I’ll make you proud,” Patricia promised, beaming.


Muggleborns rule! ”I’m sure you will, Patricia. By the way, you wouldn't happen to have Ron's card too,” she
asked.

”Of course we do,” Patricia said brightly and handed it to her.

Hermione’s heart skipped at beat as she gazed at the red head on the card looking back at her flashing those
gorgeous blue eyes and the lop-sided grin that melted her heart. She began to read:

”Ronald Bilius Weasley


Best friend and ally of Harry Potter, Mr Weasley’s actions were essential to the defeat of Voldemort, putting an
end to the Second Wizarding War. He is a Co-founding member of Dumbledore's Army and one of its most
experienced veterans. He owes his abilities as a tactician to his skill at Wizarding Chess, at which he is a Master.
He is a skilled Quidditch Keeper, and an unrepentant Chudley Cannons fan. His more questionable
accomplishments include flying an enchanted car from London to Hogwarts in his second year, crashing it into the
resident Whomping Willow, and living to tell the tale. Awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class. The summer
following the Battle of Hogwarts, Ron announced his official relationship with Hermione J. Granger.”

”Thank you,” she said and returned the card. ”He’ll be so pleased,” she said as a pang of loneliness filled her
heart. I miss you so much, Ron. I love you.

”He’s so cute,” said Erica.

”Erica,” cried Emma.”You shouldn’t say such things!”

”Yeah, Erica,” said Harry with a sardonic grin. ”Hermione might get jealous!” They broke out in fits of laughter.

”Shut it, you,” scolded Hermione trying to hold back more laughter.

”And thank you for signing them! Especially you, Ginny,” Emma said.

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”Sure, but what’s so special about mine,” Ginny asked, looking over at Harry.

”Oh, a signed 'Ginny Weasley' will be worth loads of Galleons! They never made more than one edition, awaiting
the Ginny Potter Series.”

”Merlin, I like the sound of that. Ginny Potter,” she repeated, giving Harry a sultry kiss. Down, girl. Harry
returned it with a bemused look on his face. The world had faded away again. ”You know, Harry. We’ll have
something in common.”

”And what’s that, my love,” he asked brushing back the offending lock of fire-red hair.

”If a signed Limited-Edition Ginny Weasley card will command loads of Galleons after we’re married, I guess I’ll
have a price on my head,” she smiled conspiratorially.

Harry’s eyes suddenly went dark. Damn! Ginny knew she’d inadvertently struck a nerve. There had indeed been
a price on Harry’s head at this time the previous year. The Ministry, under Voldemort’s control, plastered all of
Wizarding Britain with wanted posters branding him ’Undesirable Number One.’

Ginny brushed his cheek with the backs of her curled fingers. ”Harry, I...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”

Harry snapped out of his brood and blinked at her as if seeing her for the first time. ”No! No, don’t apologize. I
just zoned out there for a moment,” he said and then smiled wickedly. ”There’s a difference, though,” he said
huskily.

”Oh? And what’s that,” she asked, eyebrows raised.

”You’re Desirable Number One.” And all mine!

”Ohhhhhh,” Hermione groaned, rolling her eyes and holding her nose. ”You two are just...that’s...ew!”

Emma, Erica and Patricia blushed and giggled with delight at the flirtation between Harry and Ginny and how
they joked with them and Hermione. They whispered to each other, stealing glances at their new—and famous
—friends. Hermione smiled to herself. They’ll have the boys lining up in no time.

An hour later the train stopped at Hogsmeade Station and they left the train. Harry and Ginny helped their
three little friends with their trunks and escorted them toward Hagrid. Harry could see the apprehension on their
previously-excited little faces and nudged Ginny.

”He’s a big bloke, but he’s gentle as a lamb,” Ginny told them.

”Go on, now,” Hermione urged them. ”Your things will be at the castle when you get there, I promise. And after
you’re sorted, you’ll find them waiting for you in your House dormitory.”

In a show of assuring the girls, Harry called out to his large friend, who greeted him with a Hagrid-sized hug.
”Hagrid, am I going with the rest of the students to the castle,” Harry asked straightening his robes and
checking himself for broken ribs.

”Right you are, 'Arry,” he boomed. ”’Ello, Ginny, ’Ermione! I got ter take them firs’ years ter the boats,” he said,
jerking his huge thumb toward the assembled newbies. Harry could see that the girls had relaxed. ”But come an'
see me o'er a cuppa soon as ye can!”

”We will, Hagrid!”

”And congratulations ter ya, 'Arry an' Ginny!”

”You can expect an invitation to the wedding,” Ginny promised.

They heard several students gasp in initial horror at the sight of the Thestrals. Of course, many had seen death
during the war and a lot more students than before were now able to see them. They climbed into a carriage for
the ride to the castle.

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Hogwarts loomed magnificently in the distance, standing steadfastly as ever, warm light emitting from its
hundreds of windows. After such a dreadful year, it seemed to joyously welcome the students back with the
promise of a bright future.

Once inside, Harry felt at home again. He loved the Burrow, but Hogwarts had been his first real home since his
parents were killed. Just before they joined the rest of the student body in the Great Hall, Harry pulled Ginny
aside for a long-overdue kiss.

”How long since I kissed you last,” Harry asked her, pulling her body into his.

”About an hour ago,” she giggled.

”No, I mean really kissed you,” he corrected her.

”Oh, well...that would have been this morning at the Burrow,” she purred, tracing an index finger along his
chest.

”Thought so. That’s too long. I think we’re due,” he chuckled leaning down to press his lips to hers. She parted
hers so he could slip his tongue into her mouth. The world had begun to melt away again when a group of third
years began to snicker and giggle at them.

”So much for that,” Harry sighed dejectedly. ”I suppose we’d better get inside.”

They strode up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. Harry left Ginny with Hermione at the
Gryffindor table, but headed to the staff table to talk briefly with Professor McGonagall. There was a brief
exchange ending with Harry nodding his head and returning to their table. He smiled and nodded at Hermione,
then sat down next to Ginny, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Professor Sprout led the first years up the center aisle to the front of the Great Hall, where the familiar stool
and the ragged old Sorting Hat waited. She called the first name and the sorting began. Harry waited eagerly for
the Prewett and Templeton girls to be sorted. Following a few muttered prayers, crossed fingers, and held
breaths, the three of them had indeed been sorted safely into Gryffindor House, much to the joy and
approbation of their Housemates.

Once the sorting was finished, a sumptuous Hogwarts feast appeared on the tables. The food was excellent, as
usual, and Harry stuffed himself grandly. He couldn’t be more content. He was with his Ginny and he would be
training his friends—with his friends—in the DA. He was so proud of Ginny as Gryffindor House Team captain,
but he felt a stab of regret that he wouldn’t be able to play. As he finished the last bite of his favourite dessert,
treacle tart, Professor McGonagall rose to deliver the customary opening address.

”Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! We have a bright future ahead of us that shall not be overshadowed by
fear and darkness for the first time in many years.” Applause rang out across the Great Hall. Professor
McGonagall raised her hands to silence the students. ”I have a few announcements. First, please welcome back
Rubeus Hagrid as our Care of Magical Creatures professor. Hagrid shall also serve as Head of Gryffindor House.”
The words had barely passed her lips when the Gryffindors launched out of their seats with wild cheers and
applause for their massive friend.

”Wait ’til I tell Ron,” Hermione cried as she applauded. ”He’ll be gob smacked!”

”He doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Harry beamed as he looked up at a weeping Hagrid.

”I hope Hagrid never has to visit the common room,” Ginny mused. Harry and Hermione looked up at her with
raised eyebrows. ”I doubt he’ll fit through the portrait hole!” They all laughed at Ginny’s observation as they
cheered and applauded with their housemates.

Professor McGonagall allowed the Gryffindors their little celebration and then quieted them all again. ”We would

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also like to welcome Professor Amelia Bones as our new Transfiguration teacher,” she said. Harry stole a look
over at Susan across the Hall seated at the Hufflepuff table. She beamed as her classmates welcomed her aunt
to the staff with cheers and applause.

”Unfortunately, we have not filled the Defence Against the Dark Arts post as yet.” She paused as the sound of
low voices buzzed through the Great Hall. She raised her arms again to silence them. ”Therefore, Defense
Against the Dark Arts shall have a team of teachers comprised of Aurors, members of the Order of the Phoenix
and members of Dumbledore’s Army.” Harry could feel the eyes of the entire student body upon him. Bloody
hell.

”Professors Flitwick, Sprout and Slughorn shall continue to serve as Heads of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and
Slytherin Houses, respectively.” The student body applauded them as well. Professor McGonagall quieted the
student body again as she continued. ”Let me also remind you that our caretaker, Mr Filch, has posted a list
outside his office of items not allowed in the castle. You may peruse it at your convenience.” She paused again
for the titter of laughter that rolled across the Great Hall.

”As if,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes.


”You know,” said Hermione, ”I almost feel sorry for the old sod.”

”Why,” Harry asked, clearly amused.

”Well, it’s just that I’ve spent a lot of the summer with Ron and George and...well, I’ve been helping a bit with
the...ah...merchandise, and..” Her eyes darted between Harry and Ginny as she began to blush. ”Sales have
been brisk,” she said with a smirk.

”This is going to be a very interesting year,” Harry said with a new twinkly in his emerald eyes.

”Too right, and when we’re done at the end of this year...” Ginny grinned wickedly.

”I know nothing,” Harry said looking blankly at the enchanted ceiling.

Ginny giggled and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. ”Liar.” You’ll be right in the thick of it along with the rest
of the DA.

”Furthermore, the Forbidden Forest is exactly that. Forbidden. Students are prohibited from entering it for any
reason. Finally, we shall have guests with us at Hogwarts this year. Dumbledore’s Army shall be training as
Aurors here, led by Harry Potter.” The student body erupted in applause once again. When it died down,
Professor McGonagall continued. "A few former students will be living here with us on a part-time basis, and
shall sleep us in the dormitories within the houses they belonged to as full-time students. When they have
finished their training, they will be ready to take their final exams for their Auror licences.” The Great Hall
began to buzz once again.

Once quiet, Professor McGonagall excused them to their common rooms with instructions to the Prefects to see
to the first years. Harry was about to follow Ginny and Hermione with the other Gryffindors when he realised he
didn’t know if we was supposed to sleep in the dorms in Gryffindor tower or if other arrangements had been
made.

”Wait for me,” he said to Ginny. ”I need a quick word with the headmistress.” Harry approached the staff table
where Professor McGonagall had sat down to wait for the Great Hall to clear. ”Excuse me, Professor,” Harry said
quietly as he leaned across the table. ”I don’t know where I’m supposed to sleep.”

”Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr Potter. Of course you don’t,” she apologised for the oversight.”Your office is next to the
Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Tap thrice with your wand on the cupboard on the left wall and choose
a password. Please come to my office tomorrow first thing after breakfast.”

”Thank you, Professor,” Harry said.

”No, Harry. Thank you,” she smiled, patting his hand.

Harry didn't feel much the wiser, but he left the Great Hall to meet Ginny, who waiting for him at the foot of the
stairs. He leaned over a gave her a quick kiss, took her hand, and led her up the stairs to the Defense Against

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the Dark Arts office. ”Come with me,” Harry said as he opened the door to his office.” Actually, my bed is
supposed to be in here. I thought you might want to tuck me in.” Or join me.

He pointed at the cupboard. ”Now watch,” he said as he tapped it three times as Professor McGonagall had
instructed him. A disembodied voice asked for a password. ”Lawnmower,” he said smiling at Ginny. The cupboard
opened and revealed steps leading into a bedroom. ”I wonder why I never thought about where the staff lived all
these years, but this is somewhat like the entrance to the common room.” The room was small but pleasant.
There was a fire place, a bed and a wardrobe. Harry's belongings have already been brought up. Next to the fire
place was a cup of Floo powder. ”Great. I guess you can Floo back to the common room if you want to stay for a
while.”

”Try to make me leave,” Ginny said as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. Looking around
the room a little closer, they found Ginny's trunk standing right behind Harry's. They hadn't noticed it at first.
Stunned, they looked at each other slyly as their hearts beat faster. Does this mean we both live here,” Ginny
asked hopefully.

”I don't know, but I’ve never heard of any trunks ending up in the wrong place. I’ll ask Professor McGonagall
tomorrow morning. She wants to see me after breakfast,” Harry said.

”For the time being, then,” Ginny said with a sultry voice. She rose on her tiptoes and gazed into his eyes, her
mouth an inch from his. Perhaps we should just take advantage of the situation while we can.” Their lips met in
a passionate kiss; they parted them simultaneously and their tongues engaged. Their hands began to roam over
one another’s bodies as the heat of their passion exploded. Molten lava shot through their veins once again as
they hastily undressed each other and fell onto the bed, making love until they collapsed, spent, and fell asleep
in one another’s embrace.

The next morning after breakfast, Harry kissed Ginny goodbye as she left with Hermione for their first class.
Harry headed for the headmistress’ office. ”Mr Gargoyle. Professor McGonagall asked to see me but I don't have
a password yet.” Apparently, the gargoyle had been expecting him because it jumped aside revealing the spiral
steps. Harry ascended them to her office and knocked.

”Enter,” Professor McGonagall called.

The office looked very much the same except for some of the decorations. Harry stopped in front of professor
McGonagall's desk. ”Good morning, Professor.”

”Ah, Harry. I hope you slept well,” she said with one of her rare smiles.

”I did, thank you,” Harry blushed. ”Uh... are you aware of the... uh...sleeping arrangements?”

“Are you referring to Miss Weasley's quarters,” Professor McGonagall asked. ”It's a school policy that married or
engaged professors naturally live with their beloved. Of course there was the question as to whether this applied
in your case as Miss Weasley is a student and you're not an actual professor.

The staff and I agreed that it will be necessary to ask you to teach lessons in Defense Against the Dark Arts from
time to time this year in order to have a teacher for every lesson, since we can't count on the Ministry to
schedule Aurors. Anything might happen on short notice at the Auror office, so we thought that without bending
the rules too much, you could be considered what the policy defines as professor.

As for Miss Weasley, we thought there would be less sneaking about in and out of Gryffindor tower if she lives
with you. After all, there are no specifics in the policy as to whether the beloved is a student or not. Since you
and Miss Weasley are engaged to be married, we placed her with you.”

”Of course. Thank you, Professor,” Harry answered with a smile. This is getting better and better.

”I would advise some discretion though,” Professor McGonagall said handing him a parchment. “Hogwarts is still,
after all, a school.”

”You can count on us, Professor,” Harry promised.

”I’m sure we can,” she said pointedly. ”Now, Mr Potter, before lunch, you will begin meeting with those members

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of the DA who wish to join the program. I must also ask that you take this afternoon’s Defense Against the Dark
Arts lessons.”

”Yes, of course, Professor.” Harry agreed.

”Everything is in the parchment. Thank you, Harry,” she said nodding at the scroll in his hand.

Harry looked at the parchment. He would teach the first year and seventh years for that afternoon. The lessons
had been prepared ahead of tie, so all he had to do was to follow the lesson plan. That seemed easy enough.

”Do you have any questions,” Professor McGonagall asked.

”Not right now, but I guess I will while I'm adjusting from being a student to being a...guest. If there's nothing
more, I need to find Mr Filch.”

”Oh? Why,” Professor McGonagall asked.

”I need to find a Boggart for DA in a couple of weeks. Mr Filch might know better than anyone where to find
one.”

”Good thinking, Mr Potter. I will advise the rest of the staff that if they find a Boggart they should check with
you before doing anything with it.”

”Fair enough,” Harry replied and took his leave. He returned to his office to read the parchment. He saw there
were a few things to prepare for the first years. Satisfied that he had all in order for that afternoon’s classes,
Harry headed out onto the grounds where he met Hagrid stomping around Professor Sprout's garden. ”Hello
Hagrid! What are you doing,” Harry asked.

”Mornin'! I'm helpin’ Professor Sprout wi’ de-Gnomin’ the garden,” Hagrid said, diving under a bush. ”Fast li'l
buggers, garden Gnomes.” Hagrid arose with five Gnomes shouting angrily in his great fist. He tossed them
away mightily with Fang running after them, chasing them into the forest. ”Fang might be a coward, but he
loves a good de-Gnomin’ 'Arry,” Hagrid laughed. ”All the way into the ruddy forest. That'll hold 'em buggers off
for a while.”

Harry chuckled at his large friend. Hagrid was the first member of the Wizarding community Harry ever met and
the first person, other than his parents, to have been kind to him.”Can we come for tea this afternoon after
classes, Hagrid,” Harry asked.

”Yer always welcome,” Hagrid replied.

”Great. We’ll see you then,” Harry promised. He continued on toward the lake, where he sat down to think about
his life since the battle. He was free from Voldemort, he was engaged to Ginny, he had spent the most incredible
summer with her and now he was back at Hogwarts facing a new challenge. He started as he felt a pressure on
his shoulder. He turned around and there stood Witherwings, the Hippogriff formerly known as Buckbeak.

”Witherwings, old friend,” Harry said and bowed. Witherwings bowed in turn. ”I’m free too now, and I’m actually
facing a challenge that isn't lethal for once. Life’s pretty good, isn't it?” Witherwings tossed his eagle’s head,
swished his horse’s tail, and chirruped, scratching at the ground with his great bird’s feet. Harry and
Witherwings walked around the grounds together until they reached the white tomb of Albus Dumbledore.

Harry looked at it and thought about all the good and all the bad that had happened at Hogwarts. Professor
Dumbledore would say something like, Keep the good close to your heart, but remember the bad so it may never
happen again. Seeing the tomb also reminded Harry he still had the Elder Wand. Not that he would consider
using it, but he had to figure out what to do with it.

Harry returned to school in time to meet Ginny outside the Great Hall. He greeted her with a tender kiss, but
she could tell he was deep in thought. ”I took a stroll along the lake and visited Professor Dumbledore's tomb,”
Harry said, ”and I guess I got lost in memories. It was good, though, because I realised everything I have to be
happy for. Most of all for being with you, Ginny,” he confessed, taking her in his arms and pressing her against
him. ”Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine my life could ever be this...good.” He kissed her again.
Me either, my love. Ginny smiled appreciatively. ”So...do you have time to join me for lunch after my next

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class,” she asked, picking microscopic lint off the front of his robes.

”Yes, but I'm off to meet with the DA right now...Oh, and I met Hagrid on the grounds today. We're invited for
tea after class this afternoon. I suppose he invited Hermione, too. And after that...about supper together this
evening in our room—just you and me,” Harry suggested with his signature sly grin.

”Tea at Hagrid's and supper in...did you say our room,” she asked, intrigued.

”Yes, our room. Professor McGonagall gave me a lecture about school policies and engaged couples. Bottom line,
she thought there would be less sneaking around the corridors at night if she put the two of us together.” Harry
could see that Ginny was thoroughly enjoying that. ”And I have the first years’ and your classes in Defense
Against the Dark Arts today at Professor McGonagall's request.”

”Oh Harry that is so great,” she squealed, throwing her arm around his neck. ”I would go spare living in that
dorm, knowing you are so close, but out of reach. And having you, Professor Potter, this afternoon...” Her eyes
flashed mischievously.

”Don’t even think of calling me ’professor again,’ or I will have to ask Professor McGonagall to let me take house
points,” he said as he pulled her closer and planted a noisy kiss on her forehead. Just then, Harry saw Mr Filch
coming from the dungeons and winked at him. ”Mr Filch.”

”Yes... sir,” Filch answered.

”I will need a Boggart for my group in a few weeks. If you come across one, please let me know. And please, for
both of our sakes, don't call me sir.”

Mr Filch grinned and relaxed. ”Oh, I’ll let you know, all right. Nasty buggers, those things. I would probably have
come to you anyway. You have proven yourself quite good at ridding the school of dark creatures, Mr Potter. I'm
almost glad I never got you expelled,” his smile looking more like a grimace than a grin.

”Thank you, Mr Filch,” Harry nodded and turned for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Harry entered the classroom prepared for Dumbledore's Army. All of the members had received an invitation to
join this program in order to prepare for an Auror exam. Harry expected many of the members would have other
plans for the future. When he entered, there found six of them waiting. Terry Boot had answered the call, who
had suffered badly under the Carrows, as well as Anthony Goldstein, a Hufflepuff friend of Terry’s.

Seamus Finnegan, a friend and fellow Gryffindor from Harry's year, had one arm around Lavender Brown, Ron's
old girlfriend. Harry looked at them questioningly.

”No, it's nothin’ like that,” Seamus said chuckling.

”I got the invitation at St Mungo's,” Lavender told him. ”I'm still a patient, but I wouldn't miss this for anything.
I'm still having trouble standing for more than a few minutes at a stretch, so Seamus is just helping me a bit.”

Behind them sat Cho Chang. Harry wondered if it was the loss of Cedric that motivated her to pursue a career as
an Auror, or if she was just here out of the pure loyalty to Dumbledore's Army. Susan Bones sat next to her.

Harry nodded and addressed the group. ”Welcome. As you know we’re officially here as Dumbledore's Army.
Unofficially, we’re the Auror Training Program. Each of us is here because we’re considering a future with the
Auror Office. I want to be an Auror because I want to make a difference in Wizarding society. The Minister for
Magic has praised our efforts during the war and said that we performed far better than the Order of the
Phoenix and the Aurors combined. And I think I know why.”
”We didn't get into Dumbledore's Army to pursue a career. The other members were not competitors for
promotions or just colleagues. Dumbledore's Army was a team that fought for freedom and survival, and every
member was a friend to each of the others. All of us here experienced battle, and we know that we need to and
can trust our own skills as well those of the friends beside us. What made us better than the Aurors in the war
was love – the loyalty and friendship we all have through DA. What made us better than the Order was perhaps
that our enemies underestimated us because of our ages.

”Apart from hard training, we need to work to strengthen our friendship, because we will never win another duel

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because our enemy underestimates us. Now since we all know each other, tell us, your friends, why you decided
to come here today. We’ll start with Terry Boot.”

Terry stood and faced his friends. ”I suffered here last year. I am here because I want to be an Auror and make
sure no one will ever suffer like that again,” he said resolutely.

Anthony rose next. ”I was never the most skilled wizard in DA, but I want to develop my skills and join the
Aurors to help make sure that no dark wizard may rise to power like that again,” Anthony said.

Seamus stood before his friends and folded his arms across his chest.”I'm a fighter, pure and simple,” Seamus
said. ”I promised meself I’d fight the dark arts where I find ’em for the rest of me life, and there’s no place
better to do it than outta the Aurors Office, I reckon.” He returned to Lavender’s side.

”You’ll forgive me if I don’t stand,” Lavender began. ”I was almost killed last May,” she said. ”I've been
recuperating at St Mungo's for four months. I'm scarred but not broken. I want to make sure no one else will
suffer the way I’ve had to.”

Cho stood and looked around the room. ”The night Cedric died a piece of me died with him,” Cho told
them.”Fighting the dark arts will never bring Cedric back, but if I can, just once, save the life of one wizard or
witch, I have spared someone the pain I have lived with and Cedric will not have died in vain. When Riddle died
I finally felt at peace with myself. I want to be an Auror to prevent anyone else having their loved ones killed or
hurt.”

Finally, Susan stood, but looked straight at Harry. ”I never thought I would consider becoming an Auror. I hoped
I would find a man and raise a family. But last year, I found out there are those willing to do horrible, evil things
to get what they want. I still hope I will raise a family one day, but I also know I want to be a part of the Auror
Office to protect not only the family I hope for, but other families as well,” Susan told them.

”I want each of us to remember what was said here today, because it’s important that we understand why we do
what we do. We will use our time here to push the limits of our dueling skills and study for the written Auror
examination. We will work on maximizing our spell work and repertoire, developing our skills with non-verbal
magic and for those of us capable, wandless magic.

We will also spend time at the Ministry, learning about its organisation, familiarise ourselves with the Auror
Office. Each of us will receive an owl inviting us for an interview at the Auror Office. For the next two weeks, we
will read the Auror Field Manual and learn it inside and out. I will schedule times for dueling practice. Any
questions so far?” Hearing none, Harry dismissed them for lunch.

Harry met Ginny and Hermione outside the Great Hall for lunch. ”How did your first meeting go, Harry,”
Hermione asked.

”There were six: Terry, Anthony, Seamus, Lavender, Cho and Susan,” Harry replied, glancing at Ginny as he
mentioned Cho.

”That's great, though I'm a bit surprised about Susan,” Hermione said.

”Yes, but on the other hand, Seamus wasn't a surprise,” Harry said as he took a bite from his sandwich.

”I would have expected no less,” Ginny agreed. ”I’d have been shocked if he hadn’t come.”

”Mr Potter, I didn't have the pleasure to introduce myself yesterday,” said a voice behind Harry.

Startled, he turned around. ”Professor Bones. I’ heard a rumour that you were killed, but I'm glad to see that
wasn't true. I'm training your niece.”

” I was almost killed, but narrowly escaped and went into hiding. I returned as soon as the news of Voldemort's
death reached me. I must thank you, Harry. You made it possible for me to return home to my family. And I

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understand that congratulations to you and Miss Weasley are in order.”

”Yes, thank you, Professor,” Harry said. Professor Bones took her leave and headed toward the Hufflepuff table
to visit with her niece.

After lunch, Harry gave Ginny a quick but loving kiss as a group of giggling third years watched. ”Time to face
my first years,” he said with mock trepidation. ”I’ll see your lot later on.”

”I’m counting the moments,” Ginny said dreamily as they parted.

Harry studied the eleven-year-old students before him. He recognised only the twin sisters, Emma and Erica
Prewett, and their friend, Patricia Templeton. He still couldn’t get over how small they seemed. Did I really face
Voldemort at their age? They seemed so young. The class settled into their seats and it was time to start. ”Good
afternoon,” Harry greeted his class.”I'm Harry Potter and I am your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher
today.”

”Good afternoon, Professor Potter,” the class replied looking up in awe and reverence at their famous teacher.

Although he didn't like it, he could understand why they would think of him as a hero. After all, they’d heard all
the tales about the Boy-Who-Lived from their parents, friends, and older siblings all their young lives. The
first-years from Muggle homes had probably heard everything about Harry Potter from their new friends by now,
so he’d just have to grin and bear it.

”Right. Please call me Harry. I'm not a professor. Seven years ago, I sat in your place. I had learned only a few
weeks before that I was a wizard. Just like many of you, I thought, Can I do magic? I soon learned here at
Hogwarts that I could. Defence Against the Dark Arts will teach you about the dark arts and dark creatures and
how to prepare you to face any dangers they might present in your lives, if at all. You will also learn the basic
art of dueling so you can more effectively defend yourselves. Let me ask you. What lessons did you have
before?

”Charms with professor Flitwick,” a Hufflepuff boy answered after a nod from Harry.

”Charms, good. That means you used your wands. Were any one of you able to accomplish anything?”

Emma and Erica giggled. Harry looked at them. ”Well, it's just that Joseph, here,” they nodded towards a
blushing fellow Gryffindor boy, ”set a feather on fire that we were supposed to levitate.”

”Ah. Wingardium Leviosa. Incineration is at least something. My friend, Seamus, did the same thing and now
he’s training to be an Auror,” Harry grinned. ”Anyone else?”

”My feather flew up in the air but fell right back. And most of us at least had the feathers move around a little,”
said another Hufflepuff boy at the rear of the classroom.

”Good. That's about all I managed at my first lesson. Now, today, we’ll start by learning a basic defensive spell
used to disarm your opponent. It's called Expelliarmus.”

”I heard that’s the spell you used on Voldemort.” Erica said.

”That’s true. It's a useful spell and not too complicated,” he assured the class.

The class concentrated very hard to learn the actual spell that defeated Voldemort. Harry had prepared a couple
of sticks about the same size as the average wand. He told the class he would demonstrate the spell and then
distribute the sticks for everyone to try. Harry drew his wand. He had used it only for a few times for any
advanced magic after repairing it. He remembered the non-verbal Patronus, though. He had Apparated a lot, but
otherwise the magic between him and Ginny was enough. Whoa, down boy.

He demonstrated how to move the wand and say the spell at the same time. Then he prepared to cast it on the
stick. ”Expelliarmus,” Harry said. The stick crashed into the wall and shattered on impact. Harry tried to hide his
surprised reaction to the power of his spell. ”You can also, with a slightly different movement, try to affect the
direction of the wand, in order to snatch it right out of the air.” Harry cast the spell again at the next stick more
carefully, and it flew to his free hand. ”Like that... Now, each of you take a stick try to cast Expelliarmus on it.”

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Everyone spread out and soon there were shouts of Expelliarmus throughout the classroom. Harry walked
around adjusting wand movements and correcting stance. He assured each of them that it would take a bit of
practice before they got it right. After about five minutes something happened. The boy named Joseph made his
own wand fly across the classroom. ”Well done, Joseph! You made something happen, if quite the opposite of
what you intended,” Harry encouraged him, asking him to try again. Joseph cast his spell again, but his wand
flew away once more.

”Joseph, you moved the wand in the opposite direction, causing the spell to backfire. You will all learn that the
secret is not to make magic happen, but to make what you intend to happen, happen.

After thirty minutes of hard work, some of the students had caused their sticks to at least move. Still, they all
looked pretty discouraged.

”You did well, all of you, really. Before next class, I want you to review the first chapter of your books. It
describes this spell and the purpose of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Please write a six-inch summary of your
review to hand in to the teacher of that lesson.”

As they left, Harry heard several of them exclaiming excitedly about having caused his or her stick to move.
That was more than most of them were able to do with the feather in Charms. Harry cleared the classroom and
went to his room hidden behind the cupboard for a cup of tea before his N.E.W.T. class.

Harry returned to the classroom and sized-up some twenty sixth- and seventh-year students. He knew half of
them by name and recognised the rest. Feeling nervous, he looked at Ginny, whose smile lent him a boost of
confidence. Hermione sat next to her watching him and encouraging him with a nod.

"Good afternoon," he started.

"Good afternoon, Professor," a chorus replied.

He noted gratefully that neither Ginny nor Hermione called him Professor. "Okay, first of all, please call me
Harry. Today, we’re here to assess everyone’s abilities, so we will engage in series of practice duels today. We'll
take it from there for the rest of the year, working you all towards a great examination. As Professor McGonagall
told your, DA member and Aurors will be your teachers here, at least for the time being.”

Harry thoroughly enjoyed teaching this class because it felt just like the old days in the DA. "Pair up and try to
disarm you opponent. Only disarm," he repeated. Once everyone had a partner, he told them to begin. He
turned his attention to Hermione and Ginny, who had really launched into a rather heated, but controlled,
advanced duel. Shaking his head and smiling to himself, he approached them. "Please, keep it to disarming for
now," he whispered, "or I’ll have to take points from you."

”You wouldn't dare,” Hermione said smiling.

”Can I opt for detention instead,” Ginny whispered. She and Hermione giggled as Harry blushed scarlet.

”Disarming, please,” Harry said again and strode off to observe the rest of the class, instructing the pairs when
necessary.

"Harry, is Expelliarmus really any good against a dark wizard," a Gryffindor girl he didn't know asked.

"I used it several times against Voldemort, but of course, there are more powerful spells you’ll learn in this
class."

"The book says there is no defence against the Unforgivable curses. Why don't the dark wizards use them all the
time,” a Hufflepuff boy he didn't know asked.

"Well, the book is correct. There are no counter-curses against them; however, you can resist the Imperius
curse. The Cruciatus curse is a little bit different. The effect of the curse depends on the wizard's or witch’s
desire to torture the victim. You have to be consumed by evil and hatred to be able to inflict that kind of
suffering on anyone."

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"But Voldemort could?"

"Yes, he was known for using the Cruciatus curse until his victims begged for death, or were driven incurably
insane. I would say that most dark wizards will use it against their enemies, but only if they’re certain they can
cast it strongly enough."

"And the killing curse?"

"Like the Cruciatus curse, it takes a lot of determination to cast. Focusing heavily on using the killing curse for
an attack in a duel will weaken your defences, leaving you vulnerable—especially if you miss. It’s rarely used in
a duel. It’s a coward’s curse because it’s used only once the victim is weakened to incapacitation, disarmed, or
his or her back is turned. But a few dark wizards, like Tom Riddle, are so evil and so driven by the utter lust for
blood, that they can use it with confidence in a duel. If you should ever find yourself face-to-face with such a
wizard, duck," Harry warned.

"So even if they are powerful curses, they are not so good in a duel," a Ravenclaw girl asked.

"Exactly. I guess dark wizards would rather rely on other spells during a duel, saving the Unforgivable ones for
the defenceless.

Harry knew they wanted to ask the question and that it was a matter of time before one of them did "Anything
else," he asked the class.

"How did you survive then, Harry," the Gryffindor girl asked softly, clearly rattled by the things Harry told them
about the Unforgivables.
Bingo! "That was due to a series of generally unlikely circumstances and magic that neither Riddle nor Professor
Dumbledore fully understood. I'm sorry, but I can't tell you anything more other than Professor Dumbledore said
that it had to do with love, something Voldemort couldn't understand at all." He could feel Ginny’s intense gaze
as she listened to him fighting to stick to the truth without revealing anything beyond what appeared in the
Minister's statement.

Harry had rigged a statue-like device used for training that could produce various curses. He told the class to
form a line, and as they were attacked, they were to counter-curse and attack in turn. They were allowed to use
more powerful spells on the statue than they had used on each other. In the end, there were two relatively
serious incidents. A Hufflepuff girl failed with her counter-curse, so she got hit and had most of her hair burnt
away.

"Off you go to Madame Pomfrey, she'll grow your hair back in no time," Harry promised.

The other incident involved Ginny's last attack. She put everything she had into it, literally vaporising the
statue, leaving only grey ashes in a pile on the floor in its place.

"Oh... good, strong attack Ginny," Harry said. Powerful and sexy—a deadly combination. The rest of the class had
been looking on in abject terror, except for Hermione who grinned openly. Harry told them to pair up again and
duel attacking and defending, but asking them to go easy. "I would appreciate not having to send anyone else to
Madame Pomfrey."

Soon the room shook with spells and counter-spells. Again Hermione and Ginny dueled fiercely. As the others
managed to disarm or defeat their partners, they stopped to watch in fascination. None of them had seen the
battle because they had been evacuated from the castle before it began.

The class watched, mesmerised, as Hermione and Ginny dueled on, their movements and spell work all a fury of
leaps, swishes, flourishes and flicks. Rarely did either utter a word, neither of them using spells that might cause
either of them serious injury. Hermione fought using all her wits, casting her wide range of spells, attempting to
get around Ginny's defences. Ginny proved more powerful with each of her spells nearly penetrating Hermione's
defences with the mere force of them. They took greater risks as their duel progressed. It finally ended when
both of them dropped their defences simultaneously to attack.

Ginny spun and fell to the floor, taking Hermione’s spell to her shoulder. Harry felt disoriented for a moment as
she fell. Hermione took Ginny’s spell sending Hermione three metres backward, crashing into the wall. The rest

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of the class stood stunned as two star duelers retrieved their wands and hugged each other.

"Shall we call it a draw," Ginny asked, panting and flexing her shoulder.

"It’s a draw," Hermione moaned as she tried to catch her breath and steady herself on her feet.

Relieved that his sister and his fiancée appeared uninjured, Harry turned to the class and took in their
expression. ”You were all evacuated before the battle?"

All of them nodded.

"What Hermione and Ginny showed here gives you an idea as to why the evacuation was necessary. This is
pretty much what the battle looked like, but on a much grander scale and involving deadly curses. Switch
partners and try again."

The two students paired with Ginny and Hermione stared at them, terrified. "Do what you do best and keep it
simple. Focus," Hermione instructed her partner.

”That’s right. Don’t ever try anything fancy or unproven. That’ll get you into trouble every time,” Ginny warned
her own partner.
Harry could see that they already dueled better after working with Hermione and Ginny, who went easy on their
new partners. Ginny disarmed her opponent who made a fatal mistake, but Hermione was taken by surprise
when her partner caught her with a Jelly Legs jinx before ultimately disarming her.

"Great work. You kept it simple by using a prankster jinx. However, I wouldn't recommend repeating it too often
because you lose the element of surprise,” Harry said. He remembered how he had been identified at the Battle
in the Sky by casting Expelliarmus, which had long-ago become identified with him. Soon, the class period
ended.

” Well done! You may go,” Harry dismissed them. The class packed up their gear and left the classroom, some of
them glancing back in awe at Ginny and Hermione. Harry estimated this class was a lot better-prepared than the
DA had been when they first started.

The Gryffindor girl who had asked about Expelliarmus approached him. "Harry, will we be able to fight like them
one day," she asked, nodding toward Ginny and Hermione.

"That’s entirely possible. When we started the DA in my fifth year, many members couldn't even disarm
properly. By the end of that year, most of them could produce corporeal Patronuses. Those who were of age
joined those who returned to fight in the battle against Riddle," Harry explained. "By the way, what's your
name?"

"Jessica Spinnet."

"Ah. Alicia's sister?"

"Yes, I am." she said, and left.

Ginny and Hermione had been waiting for him. Harry put his arm around Ginny and gave her a kiss. As they left
the classroom, Hermione huffed in disgust.

”A Jelly Legs jinx,” Hermione muttered, looking furious. ”I could have taken him.”

”I know you could Hermione,” Harry replied. ”Didn't you see their faces after your duel? Jessica Spinnet, the girl
who left, just asked if they could learn to fight like you.”

They headed for Hagrid’s. On the way down, Harry wanted to ask them about what had happened to him at the
end of their duel. ”Something strange happened. When I had the first years this afternoon, I demonstrated
Expelliarmus on stick and almost blew it up. And during the summer I had to modify the memory of a Muggle
lady in the park, almost sending her to St Mungo's. Did something happen because of the way I repaired my
wand?”

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”Harry,” Hermione answered guardedly. ”You’ve faced loads of previously-unknown magic. You’d better explore
this carefully. So much has happened to you already to affect your magic, something even more could very well
have happened to cause this surge in your powers.”

”Oh, there’s more, Hermione. When Ginny fell at the end of your duel, I felt disoriented for a second, as if your
spell had hit me. Both Arthur and Bill think there might be some kind of bond between us.”
”As I said, Harry, we’re talking about previously-unknown magic,” Hermione said. ”And Ginny, that stunner you
hit me with was the most powerful I've ever felt. I blacked-out for a second when I hit the wall. Not to mention
that spell you vaporised Harry’s statue with. If you like, I can do some research about this bond of yours.”

”Thanks, Hermione. I wouldn't want just anyone digging into this,” Harry said gratefully. ”So...come along then,
lovely ladies,” he said, offering both of his arms. ”Hagrid’s waiting for us.”

Chapter 6: Love and beyond


[View Online] [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Chapter 6 – Love and Beyond

Hagrid met them at the door with a hearty welcome and a Hagrid-sized hug. ”Good ter see ya! Good ter see ya,”
he boomed. ”Come in, come in! Tea’s just about ready,” he said.

”Hello, Hagrid,” a broadly smiling Hermione said to her enormous friend.

Hagrid served tea and some odd-looking biscuits he had baked himself. Hagrid’s cooking left much to be desired,
but Ginny accepted, mostly out of politeness. Harry and Hermione followed suit and found that they tasted
rather good, actually, and they told him so.

”Learned how to make ’em from Olympe,” he said, blushing. Hagrid reached behind and produced a present
wrapped in an old issue of the Daily Prophet. ”’Arry, Ginny, this is fer you. I never sent ye a present, so ’ere ye
are. Congratulations.”

Harry and Ginny opened the gift with both fear and anticipation. They never knew what Hagrid might give
them.

"Is it a unicorn's horn," Ginny asked.

"That it is. Found it in the forest. Thought you might like to put it o'er yer door when ya get a home."

Although a unicorn's horn was better used in potions. it was popular to have one for good luck and happy life
over the door to your house, but that magic worked only if the horn in question had been found or given as a
gift.

"Thank you, Hagrid." they both said.

By Hagrid's standards, it was a very romantic gift. Both Harry and Ginny felt warm inside at the mention of their
future home.

”So how did yer first day go, 'Arry,” Hagrid asked.

”You’d better ask Ginny and Hermione. I had them in class this afternoon,” Harry replied.

”Harry did really well,” Ginny said animatedly. ”No one went to Madame Pomfrey with any serious injuries, but
one girl had to have some burnt-off hair re-grown.”

”Yes, and everyone’s catching on quite quickly,” Hermione added. ”Harry paired a couple of them with me and
Ginny. By the end of class, their wand work and reflexes had vastly improved. Of course, they have a long way
to go, but they’re off to a good start. Harry’s a natural.”

”'Arry’ll train up Dumbledore's Army well 'nough ter take out every ruddy Auror who dares ’em,” Hagrid said

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with the same air of conviction that he had when he said that Harry would win the Triwizard Tournament.

They spent the rest of the afternoon chatting about what they had all been doing over the summer. Harry and
Ginny told him about how Harry proposed to her. When Ginny showed him the ring, tears the size of marbles
welled up in Hagrid's eyes. ”I remember when yer dad gave that ring ter yer mother, ’Arry. Lily was so proud of
it...and James, well, he strutted about like a right peacock after yer mum said yes,” Hagrid chuckled. Soon, the
shadows grew long and it was time to head back to the castle for supper.

”Coming, Hagrid,” asked Hermione.

”Nah, you go on,” he replied, waving a trash bin-sized hand. ”I’ve got ter feed Buck...Witherwings and then I’ll
be along. Aff with ye, now.” The three friends made their way back to the castle. Hermione turned to toward the
Great Hall, but Harry and Ginny made for the stairs.

”Aren’t you hungry,” Hermione asked them.

”Yes, but we’re going to have a quiet supper in our room tonight. Kind of like a dinner date,” Ginny replied
leaning into Harry’s shoulder.

”That’s so romantic,” Hermione said wistfully. ”Well, I’d better get inside. I want to find out how our three
Munchkins did today. Enjoy,” she said as she hurried up the aisle to the Gryffindor table.

A lovely candlelit dinner awaited the couple in their room. There was salmon on a cedar plank with lightly
curried pilaf, green beans amandine, a mixed-greens salad, warm Butterbeer, and something very near and dear
to Ginny’s heart for dessert—strawberries dipped in chocolate. Harry pulled out a chair for Ginny to sit down and
then took his seat next to her.

”Harry, this is...it’s so romantic. Oh and that curry smells wonderful,” she said as if in a daze. ”Oh my, this looks
delicious,” she said, picking up her fork and taking a bite of the salmon.”Oooh it is! Oh Harry, how did you do
this,” she asked as her stomach took that familiar flip. I want you now, Potter!

”The salmon was Kreacher’s idea,” Harry intimated, emerald eyes glittering. ”The strawberries were mine.” He
gazed deeply into her chocolate eyes as they shone in the candlelight. He continually marveled at how beautiful
she was and that she loved him. I’ll spend the rest of my life making her happy.

When they finished eating dinner, they cuddled up in front of the fire to feed the strawberries to one another.
Harry watched in fascination as Ginny seductively bit into the strawberry he held to her mouth, her lips
lingering over it before she pulled it into her mouth with her tongue. Merlin, the things she does to me. ”Mmm, I
love strawberries and chocolate,” she purred as she chose one for Harry.

”I love you,” he answered huskily, as he opened his mouth to take a bite. But she’s pulled it back. Harry’s eyes
widened as she placed the broad end of the fruit into her teeth and then leaned forward so he could take a bite
from the chocolate end.

Between the wildflowers and strawberries scent in her hair and the chocolate strawberry Ginny held for him in
her perfect teeth, his head began to spin. His desire for her grew into outright lust. He swallowed the strawberry
and crushed her in his arms, burying his face in her neck. ”I want you, Ginny. Now!”

Strawberries forgotten, they had just launched into a pre-coital snog when a knock came on the door. ”Who
could that be,” Ginny growled as they broke apart.

It was Hermione. She apologized for the intrusion but asked if she could come in just the same.

”Of course,” Harry said, ushering her through the door. He stole a glance at Ginny. We’ll pick this up later, love.

”I need to talk to you.” Hermione said and put a book entitled Magical Myths and Legends on the table. Oh dear,
I have interrupted something.

”Is that really your kind of reading Hermione,” Ginny asked, still slightly annoyed at the interruption.

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”Not normally, but I sure wouldn't find anything about your bond in my normal books.”

”You've found something already?”

”Maybe,” Hermione said and opened the book. ”Look here. It tells of a mythical couple who were so much in love
they actually merged their souls and became as one. It's a beautiful fairy tale about eternal love beyond
mortality. Maybe something similar is happening to the two of you. Like theirs, your love transcends life itself.”

”What do you mean,” Ginny asked, Hermione’s words causing her to blush slightly.

”Look at the circumstances. Riddle rips his soul apart to create his Horcruxes. Both of you were possessed by
him at one point or another. It sure didn't rip your souls, but maybe it somehow marked them. When Harry
went in the forest, the ancient protection magic was already at work, since you, Harry, had walked into the
forest to protect Ginny with your life. The ancient magic claims one life, willingly given for love, in order to
create and seal the protection of another. However, Harry didn't die. As far as I know, magic at work doesn't
dissipate into nothing; it always either backfires or causes other phenomena. Ginny, when Harry survived, the
magical powers that should have created the protection must have ended up doing...something else.”

Harry and Ginny tried to understand. ”Do you have any idea what,” Harry asked, knowing Hermione probably
did.

”Yes. Harry. Since the last thing you saw was Ginny before you ”died,” all your love was directed at her, and I
think all your magical powers were too. I think there was a magical connection created between your souls when
Harry met Dumbledore at the astral King's Cross Station, and that the ”marks” on your souls made it possible.
When Harry chose to return to life, the connection became permanent. I think your souls are fused together by
love.” Hermione paused to allow her friends to absorb this portion of her profound explanation.

”And how can you be sure,” Harry asked her, still trying to get his head around such an hypothesis.

”Harry was affected today in class by a spell that hit you, Ginny. Harry had only to look at you this summer to
produce a non-verbal Patronus. I looked that up, by the way. No one has ever produced a non-verbal Patronus,
Harry. And even more interesting is that those who have seen you this summer say you are shining.”

”Are you saying this connection gives us greater magical ability, Ginny asked.

”I'm not sure, but Harry did something never heard of before. Not even Dumbledore was able to do what you
did, despite that he was the master of the Elder Wand. Ginny, have you noticed anything in your magic?”

”I have never sent anyone three meters into a wall with a stunner before,” Ginny grinned.

”I have never felt a stunner that strong before,” Hermione admitted.

”So what does this mean? That our souls are fused together,” Harry asked.

”I don't really know, but whatever this is between you, it was created out of love. I don't think it's a bad thing,
but you need to explore it. I don't know if you will be able to share each other’s minds, see through each other’s
eyes, but I do know that you have been given a unique opportunity to become closer than any other couple in
the history of the Wizarding world,” Hermione finished. She closed her book and rose to leave. ”Anyway, I didn't
want to intrude, but I thought this was important. Now, I have homework to do and I want to send an owl to Ron
yet tonight.”

”Hermione, you never intrude. Thank you for letting us know what you think about this bond,” Ginny said and
hugged her goodnight.

After Hermione left, Harry and Ginny cuddled up again in front of the fire place once again. ”What do you think
about this soul thing,” Harry asked Ginny, as he held her close.

”Well, there are things we don't understand, but what she says makes sense. I don't feel complete without you.
We didn't really argue once all summer. It's like we understand each other. The anger I felt after your return
was washed away the moment I laid eyes on you, and that is not like me at all. Normally I'd Bat-Bogey you,

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await your apology, and then make you beg me to return to you,” Ginny grinned.

”Yes, that sounds like you,” Harry laughed. ”But if Hermione is right, our souls were connected and merged
when you came to see me after the battle. Maybe unconsciously, you somehow knew, even though there were
no words to express it.”

”I remember you said you were sorry for leaving me. I also remember I told you I knew why you did it, but
didn't understand. This soul thing could explain all of that. How do you feel about this, my love?”

”I don’t think there’s a word or combination of words to describe how I feel about it. My only wish is to be as
close as possible to you, sharing my life with you,” he confessed rubbing her back as he held her. ”Ginny, have
you ever heard the Muggle expression soul-mate?”

Ginny shook her head, brow furrowed. ”What is it supposed to mean?”

”Muggles say it about friends or couples who seem to know what their spouse or significant other is thinking. Of
course for Muggles, it's all about knowing each other really well, but if we are soul-mates, quite literally, I
couldn't be happier,” Harry said.

”I want to explore this, Harry, if only to deepen our love,” Ginny said.

”So do I,” Harry replied thoughtfully. ”I have an idea. How about we concentrate really hard on how much we
love each other five minutes after we've gone to classes tomorrow,” Harry suggested.

”Sounds like a wonderful idea,” she agreed. ”Now, it’s been a while. How about reading a bit from your mum's
diary?”

Harry stood up and crossed the room to his trunk to retrieve the diary. He brought it back, settled back down
next to Ginny on the floor, and opened it.

”1 May 1978,
A new week and a new month. In seventh year, you can tell N.E.W.Ts are getting closer. James doesn't seem too
concerned, but I know he is. We had the strangest talk with Professor Dumbledore today, when he called us to
his office. We thought it had something to do with us being Head Boy and Girl, but that was just a cover.
Dumbledore told us he is the leader of a secret organization called the Order of the Phoenix, who are fighting
You-Know-Who. James asked the professor if he had called us to recruit us. Professor Dumbledore said that it
was far too much to ask anyone to join. He simply informed us of the organization in case we might be willing to
volunteer. I haven't thought that much about You-Know-Who. It seems his terror can't enter Hogwarts.
You-Know-Who rose to power about the same time I started here and according to professor Dumbledore, he has
slowly worked his way into Imperiusing people at the Ministry as well as terrorizing those who stand against him.
He is concerned You-Know-Who is about to strike. There is no one except James I trust more than Professor
Dumbledore and he seems really worried. He told us to think about what he had told us.
When we were finally alone, we talked. James was surprised to hear I considered volunteering for the Order. Of
course James wanted to join. I guess all of the Marauders will too. I can’t imagine Sirius sitting something like this
out. I may not be as adventurous as my dear boyfriend or his best mate, but I see little alternative to fighting
You-Know-Who. I have no reason to doubt Professor Dumbledore, and if You-Know-Who indeed controls the
Ministry, he must be defeated. I can't live in a community ruled by a dark wizard.
Then James surprised me. He said he could tell I thought he was willing to join out of childish ideas of glory and
honour. He said he considered it because he had hopes of raising a family in peace and with You-Know-Who
around, there would be no peace. Even after seven months with James, I still find myself thinking of him as an
immature prankster. He likes a good practical joke, but there is so much more to James than that. He is a much
more brilliant wizard than he likes people to think, he's loyal to his friends, and yes, a bit of a smart-arse. I guess
Professor Dumbledore must’ve seen brilliance where no one else could, so he made him Head Boy. The whole
thing was sure a mystery to me...but I’m glad he did.”

”She was really worried when she wrote this,” Ginny said softly.

”I think it's the first time she really thought about what they would do after Hogwarts. Not dreams of their
careers, like Dad’s to play professional Quidditch we read about the other day, but really thinking about what
they would face after Hogwarts.”

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The next morning at breakfast, an owl delivered a letter for Harry from the Auror Office inviting him for an
interview as well as to take a practical exam the following day. Along with the letter was a form excusing him
from checking his wand.

”They’re not wasting any time, are they,” Ginny said, handing the letter and form back to Harry.

”There isn’t really any time to waste, Gin. Kingsley said their ranks are really decimated,” he replied. ”I
supposed if I’m to train new Aurors, it might not be a bad idea if I have at least taken the practical tests.”

All of a sudden, Harry’s, Ginny’s, and Hermione’s sight went dark. ”Guess who,” chimed three little voices.

”A Munchkin,” laughed Hermione. Patricia released her and slid into an empty seat beside her.

Erica and Emma released Harry and Ginny in kind and took their places on either side of the couple.

”Good morning, ladies,” Harry said cheerfully. ”And how are our three favourite firsties this morning?”

”Good, but Patricia had a rough time getting to sleep,” Emma said as she served herself from a large bowl of
porridge.

”Why? What happened,” Hermione asked Patricia.

”Oh it was nothing, really,” Patricia blushed into her eggs and bacon. ”Only...I...I’ve never been this far away
from home before and I felt...I felt...”

Hermione felt a protective surge of sympathy. She had already become attached to her during the trip from
London on the Hogwarts Express. Hermione’s affection for the little girl felt like that she might harbour for a
little sister. The poor thing’s homesick. Hermione could certainly understand. She imagined how difficult this
must be for Patricia as she replayed her sorting in her mind.

”Templeton, Patricia,” Professor Sprout called.


Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and the Prewett girls all crossed their fingers as Patricia squared her shoulders and
bravely marched forward and sat down on the stool. Professor Sprout placed the ancient relic on her head and
the hall went silent. Hermione bit her lip in anticipation. Please let us have her. Five minutes later, the hat cried,
”Gryffindor!” In spite of herself, Hermione leapt up and gave Patricia a whoo-hoo as she joined her applauding
housemates at the table.

While she knew Patricia was excited and curious about all things magical, Hermione knew that she felt
overwhelmed at the same time. She took Patricia’s hand. ”You’re feeling a little homesick? I did too, my first few
weeks here,” Hermione told her. ”You’ll get used to it, but if you want to talk about it, just come find me in the
seventh-year dorms, okay?” Patricia nodded gratefully and attacked her breakfast with a will.

”Harry? Could you please help me with the orange juice? The pitcher’s a bit full...” Erica asked.

”Your wish is my command, Milady.” He bowed his head reverently at the blushing little girl. He poured her a
glass of juice, buttered another slice of toast and turned his attention to Ginny and Hermione, who were still
chatting with Patricia.

”So, Munchkins,” Ginny began, ”are we ready for another exciting day at Hogwarts?”

”Oh yes! We have Potions today with Professor Slughorn,” Patricia replied excitedly. ”He looks like such a nice
man,” she said, looking up at the jovial professor at the staff table.

”He’s a very nice man,” Ginny agreed. ”You’ll learn all sorts of wonderful things from him.”

”That’s right, but you still have to pay close attention to what you’re doing and follow the directions To. The.
Letter, or your healing draught could become poison,” Harry warned. ”But don’t worry. You won’t be doing
anything that big for a while yet,” he assured them.

Soon it was time to head for class, so Hermione and Ginny, together with the Munchkins, grabbed their gear and
headed out of the Hall. At the base of the stairs, Harry took Ginny aside allowing the stampede to pass. He

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directed Emma, Erica, and Patricia to the dungeons for Potions class and then took Ginny in his arms. ”See you
at lunch,” he asked, gazing into her eyes.

”I wouldn’t miss it for all the Firebolts in Britain,” she promised, tracing around his lips with her fingers. And I
have a free period after that.”

”So do I,” he replied. ”I’ve got the DA all morning and classes of second and third years later this afternoon, but
I’m free for an...extended lunch.” Harry leaned down to give her a kiss.

”Mmmm, hold that thought,” she said as she pulled away from him. ”I’d better get going or I’ll be late for
Charms.”

At lunchtime, Harry waited anxiously for Ginny at the foot of the staircase. He’d been working non-stop with the
DA all morning and they were all famished. Harry sent them along, saying he would wait for Ginny and that they
would join them at the Gryffindor table as soon as she came down. He’d been thinking about dessert when she
finally appeared from behind and wrapped her arms around his waist. He jumped a little, then turned around
with a broad grin plastered across his face. ”Hello, Gorgeous Girl,” he said, giving her a kiss.
”Hello, Gorgeous Guy. I’m starved,” clutching her growling stomach.

”There never was a truer Weasley,” Harry chuckled. ”C’mon. The DA and food await.” He offered his arm and she
took it. They approached the Gryffindor table, took the customary seats the twins had saved for them, and
began to serve themselves.

”Well if it isn’t the lovely Ginny Weasley gracin’ us with her dazzlin’ presence,” Seamus said in his lilting Irish
brogue, flirting with her. ”What’re ye doin’ with that grinnin’ fool anyway,” he teased, gesturing toward Harry
with a fork.

”I’ll never tell,” she replied. ”You’ll just have to use your imagination.” Ginny raised herself up to lick a bit of
stray butter off Harry’s lip, leaving a lingering kiss in its place. Emma, Erica, and Patricia giggled at their friends’
antics.

”Touché,” Terry laughed. ”It looks as though Ginny Weasley can hold her own against the scathing wit of
Seamus Finnegan!”

The Munchkins had been completely enthralled with the DA members seated at their table. Seamus charmed
them completely with his sense of humour and twinkling blue eyes. They were all laughing at Seamus’ banter
with Harry and Ginny, but a bit jealous that he kept his arm around the pretty blonde he called ”Lav.” Terry
Boot was just plain cute with his dark hair and eyes and boyish good looks. Emma couldn’t help but stare. They
were all having a good laugh, except for Hermione. She was scratching busily away on a bit of parchment,
seemingly oblivious to what was going on around her.

”Hermione, what are you doing now,” Harry asked her. ”You haven’t touched a bite.”

”Oh yes I have. I arrived before any of you and I’ve eaten already. And if you must know, I’m writing a letter to
Ron.”

”You just wrote him last night,” Ginny said knowingly. ”What could you possibly have to tell him after half a
day,” she teased.

”That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Hermione said with a sniff, and returned to her writing.

”Cloak and dagger intrigue, this is,” laughed Lavender.


My Sweet Ron,
First let me start by telling you how much I miss you. I miss your arms around me, I miss your kisses, your
marvelous blue eyes, your touch. Even though you’re so close, I feel so desolate here without you. I love you,
Ronald Weasley.
Can you come up to Hogwarts for supper tomorrow night? I’ll square it with Hagrid and McGonagall. I don’t

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expect any objection from Hagrid, but the headmistress might be a bit more difficult to convince, although I don’t
see a problem. After all, you do hold the Order of Merlin, First Class. Who could resist that? I sure can’t. Besides,
there are three lovely little Munchkins who are dying to meet you. One of them finds you quite handsome. She
had good taste, I think.We’re having lunch with Seamus, Lavender, and Terry. Lavender sends her love; the
other two send their congratulations, but for what I haven’t a clue. Anyway, let me know if you can make it for
dinner so I can talk to Professor McGonagall this evening after supper.
I miss you. I love you. I want you. I need you.
Your ’Mione

Hermione read over her letter. Finding it acceptable, she folded it and placed it in her robes to take to the
owlery later on. ”So...how’s the training going,” she asked no one in particular.

”Fine, fine,” Harry replied. ”We worked on a bit of dueling this morning just to loosen up and get back into the
practice.”

”Yeah,” Terry agreed. ”And Cho, over there, is quite on her game. She made the rest of us look like ruddy
amateurs.”

”You are amateurs,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. ”But Cho’s always been good in a fight. I remember
watching her against a few Death Eaters during the...” Ginny shot a warning look at her. Harry’s eyes had gone
dark for a second and then brightened again. ”Well, we’re all a bit rusty, aren’t we,” Hermione said to Ginny.

”Too right,” Ginny replied. ”But yesterday was fun, wasn’t it,” she grinned.

”What about yesterday,” Lavender asked, clearly interested. ”What was so fun?”

”I had the sixth- and seventh-year Defence Against the Dark Arts class yesterday and we did a little practice
dueling. Just to see where the class stood skills-wise,” Harry told her. ”Ginny and Hermione were brilliant!”

”I don’t know about brilliant,” Hermione muttered.

”You were brilliant. You had the class’ attention,” Harry countered. ”If dueling could be graceful...”

”If you call landing on your arse graceful, then I’m a ballerina,” Ginny snickered.

”And a lovely arse it is,” Harry said, peeking behind her. And I’ll...easy, Potter.

”And if you call nearly becoming a permanent fixture on a stone wall graceful, then I’m a work of art,” Hermione
said, shaking her head.

They all howled with laughter at Hermione’s rare show of self-deprecating humour. All too soon, though, it was
time to return to classes. The group of laughing Gryffindors shuffled toward the Entrance Hall with the rest of
the students. The DA had promised to escort the Munchkins to Herbology on their way out. Harry, Ginny, and
Hermione climbed the stairs. Harry and Ginny turned for their room while Hermione continued up toward the
owlery.

Breathlessly, Harry dragged Ginny through the door to their room and closed it quickly behind them. He took
her in his arms and captured her lips in a desperately passionate kiss, his hands working at her robes. ”Merlin,
Gin! I’ve been holding this thought all day. I could barely concentrate,” Harry moaned into her mouth. ”I almost
didn’t make it through lunch...”

”I know,” she whimpered tearing at his robes. ”I could...oh my...tell when I licked the butter off you. You were in
quite a...mmm, that’s nice...state,” she purred. I could have taken you right there on the table...” Harry had
been nibbling the spot just behind her ear and the sensation drove her insane. Their robes fell at their feet.

”That...would have been...Oh gods, Gin...a sight,” Harry moaned again as she raked her nails across his back.
Suddenly his trousers felt rather tight. He shuddered as Ginny’s hands left his back to caress his chest. She
kissed around the edge of his mouth, driving him mad with desire. She reached down and began to loosen his
belt. ”Need some help,” he asked as he unclasped her bra with one hand.

”Ooh, you’ve gotten good at that,” she cooed as his trousers dropped to the floor with her bra. Harry kissed

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down her neck to her pulse point, running his hands through his thick fiery mane. ”I want you, Harry Potter,”
she moaned.

”Take me, I’m yours.” He captured her mouth and tongue in a scorching kiss. He flicked his wand at the fireplace
and it burst into flames. The world melted away again as they fell to the floor in a fury of dancing tongues and
roaming hands.

”Harry,” Ginny cried, as he entered her. She matched his rhythm and they set to finish what had been
interrupted the night before.

In the afterglow of their lovemaking, Ginny remembered the strawberries. She pointed her wand toward the
wardrobe. ”Accio,” she commanded, and the dish containing the chocolate-dipped strawberries sailed across the
room into her hands. She chose one and offered it to Harry.

”Mmmm, that’s good,” he groaned, taking a slow bite. He chose one from the dish and offered it to her. ”Care for
a bite,” he asked her as his hands rubbed her bare back.

”All the bites I can get,” she replied with a sultry giggle. She took a bite and nestled her head into his chest. She
loved to rest her head there and listen to his heartbeat. There was something comforting in it that she just
couldn’t put her finger on. ”I love you, my sweet Harry,” she sighed into his chest. ”I love you.”

Harry pulled her in closer. ”My Ginny, my heart, my own,” he whispered into her hair. He hadn’t called her that
since the morning she accepted his proposal. ”I can’t get enough of you. You fill my dreams and my every
waking thought.” He lifted her face and kissed her tenderly and lovingly. ”I love you, Gin. Forever.” They had a
quick snog before they had to dress for their afternoon classes.

Harry flicked his wand at the fireplace once again and the fire died down. ”Third years for me,” he said, ushering
her through the door.

”Hermione and I have Transfiguration,” Ginny replied. ”She’s probably waiting for me.”

”Then you should go,” he said leaning into another kiss.

”Yes...I should,” she said reluctantly. ”See you later? Maybe take a walk down by the Quidditch pitch for a fly
before supper?”

”Sounds like a plan,” Harry agreed. ”See you then.” They shared a quick kiss and she strode off just as the third
years began to arrive.

When the final bell rang, Harry locked up his classroom and passed into the suite he shared with Ginny. He
retrieved their Firebolts from under the bed and changed out of his heavy school robes into his lighter Quidditch
robes saved from his sixth year and they still fit, although he’d grown a few inches to his current 6-foot height.
They would serve this purpose.

Soon, the door opened and Ginny came into the room and dropped her books on the table. She walked over to
Harry and kissed him. ”Hello, Gorgeous Guy,” she said as she began to rummage for a pair of jeans and a shirt.

”Hello, Gorgeous Girl,” he answered. ”How was your day?”

”Busy. Lots of homework,” she sighed, pulling her jeans on. ”Ready?”

Harry’s face lit up at the prospect of taking to the air again. He loved to fly. In the past, it was the only thing
that made him feel truly free, but now...it was just fun. Something he loved to do and there was no one he
loved to do it with more than his beloved Ginny. ”Race you,” he challenged, tossing her broom and picking up
his own.

”You wish, Potter,” she laughed as she sprinted toward the door. ”Just catch me if you can.” The two of them
shot out the door. When they reached the almost-deserted corridor. Ginny ran toward the staircase at top
speed. ”Slow poke,” she laughed back at Harry.

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Harry stopped running, mounted his broom, kicked off and flew past her to the Entrance Hall with a smug look
on his face, green eyes blazing. ”Gotcha,” he called.

”Cheat,” she retorted in mock disappointment. ”I’ll get you for this Harry Potter!”

”Promise,” he asked with his signature sly grin.

”Git,” she said as they passed through the gigantic doors to the outside. Halfway across the grounds, they
mounted up and kicked off, taking to the sky. They swooped and rolled, looped and chased all over the Quidditch
pitch and over the castle grounds, weaving through the rings and then skimming the lake. Screaming with
laughter, they buzzed the Astronomy tower, surprising a pair of Ravenclaws having a right snog.

Having the wind in his hair as he flew filled Harry with a kind of joy surpassed only by the joy he found with
Ginny. Flying with her was almost like making love. She was so beautiful as her long ponytail blew behind her in
her wake, her robes billowing behind her. He loved to chase a snitch, but he loved to chase Ginny even more.

Ginny loved to fly with Harry. There was something about it that fulfilled her in a way flying with her brothers
couldn’t. He was a natural, there was no doubt about that. It’s almost as if he had been born on a broom. She
could watch him chase a snitch all day, but she preferred he chased her instead, which was what was happening
right now.

They both leaned forward on their brooms, low against the handles, picking up speed as they flew. Since Ginny
was lighter, Harry had to work a bit harder to catch her, but his strength matched her. Soon, he had hold of her
tail, slowing then both down until they descended in slow circles and landed on the Quidditch pitch. They
dismounted amid gales of laughter.

”That was bloody fantastic,” Ginny exclaimed. She had bent over with her hands on her knees taking great gulps
of air in order to catch her breath.

”You were bloody fantastic,” Harry replied, bent over in like manner. “The other house teams don’t have
a...snowball’s chance in a dragons cave!” They both fell to the ground laughing again as Harry quoted his
mother. Good one, Mum.

Ginny leaned over Harry, her pony tail half out from the flight. He pushed the stray locks behind her ear as he
gazed into her eyes, watching the gold flecks that danced in the chocolate irises. ”I love you, Gin,” said simply,
and raised his head to kiss her.

”I love you too, Harry,” she said against his lips as she claimed them.

They lay there in one another’s arms for a while, exchanging tiny kisses and talking about Ginny’s plans for the
team. They decided they should head back up to the castle to clean up for supper, so they mounted their brooms
and raced toward the castle.

That evening, Harry and Ginny entered the Great Hall for supper, still flushed after their glorious late-afternoon
fly on their Firebolts. They found Hermione engaged in an animated conversation with the Munchkins as they
sat down.

”...and perhaps he’ll be here for supper tomorrow night,” Hermione seemed to promise.

”Do you think he’ll sign our Chocolate Frog cards,” Erica asked hopefully.

”He’d better,” Ginny interjected, ”or I’ll Bat-Bogey him! Is Ron coming for supper tomorrow night?”

”If he can. I’ve already cleared it with Professor McGonagall. Hagrid said he’d love to see him again,” Hermione
replied.

A tiny something flew through the doors of the Great Hall and landed with a little crash in front of Hermione. Pig
quickly righted himself and held out his leg to her so she could remove the scroll from around his leg. Her heart
skipping a beat, Hermione read it, though not out aloud...just in case.
My Beautiful ’Mione,
I talked to George. He’s fine with it. In fact, if you can get away, he’s invited you to spend the weekend here with

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us. He really likes you, but then again, what isn’t there to like? The best part is that I not only get to like you, I
get to love you. Besides, he wants to know if you’ll help him with the books. Fred usually did that and you know
what an idiot I am when it comes to figures—except your figure.
I can’t wait to see you and hold you and kiss you and touch you. It’s only been a couple of days, but I got used to
holding you close while we slept and now I feel so empty without you, I just don’t sleep well at night. George
threatened to call Mum for some of her ’special’ tea, but I don’t want to be the least bit groggy when I gaze at
your beautiful face tomorrow night. You are my every daydream and my every inspiration.
I miss you. I love you. I want you. I need you. Until tomorrow night...
Your Ron

Hermione shared the important parts, leaving out his words of love. Ron was never one to share his feelings
openly, but he sure knew what to say to Hermione to melt her heart.

”Wow! Ron’s coming tomorrow night,” Erica squealed. ”He must be much cuter in real life.”

”Oh he is,” Hermione told her. ”He’s quite handsome...and tall. Six feet, five inches, to be exact.”

”How do you reach to kiss him,” Patricia blurted out and then blushed. ”Sorry.”

”Sometimes he picks her up,” Ginny said, eyes twinkling. ”Yes, Hermione, I’ve seen him do it!”

”We are talking about Ron Weasley, my best mate, right,” Harry asked, bewildered. ”If he could hear the five of
you chattering on about him like this, his ears’d be redder than beet root.” Harry laughed to himself, picturing
Ron’s embarrassment.

”There’s a side to Ron even you don’t know, Mr Harry bles-sed Potter,” Hermione teased. ”I’m sure Ginny could
tell us some stories...”

”All I will tell you is that Harry is sweet and kind and gentle and thoughtful and...so romantic,” Ginny sighed.
And so bloody HOT. ”And he can turn a pretty phrase when he wants to.”

Harry blushed crimson and ran his hands through his hair. ”Laying on a bit thick, aren’t you,” Harry asked her,
thoroughly embarrassed.

”It’s only the truth. And I could have told them about...”

”That’ll do, Miss Weasley.” Harry cut across her. ”I suggest we get to bed. I have a big day tomorrow and so do
you.”

”I suppose so. I’m really knackered after our fly this afternoon. It was fun,” she said as she got up from the
table. ”Goodnight, all.”

”’Night,” Hermione said as she began to shepherd the Munchkins up to Gryffindor Tower.

When they arrived back in their room, Ginny noticed Harry wincing and rotating his shoulder.

”Need a rub down, love,” she asked, touching his face.

”Would you mind,” he asked. ”I think I’m a bit out of shape.”

” You know the drill,” she said, guiding him to the bed. She began to work the muscles in his sore shoulder.

”Oh, that’s the spot,” he grunted. ”Ohhh that’s good.” She kneaded and manipulated the muscles of his upper
back and the base of his neck. ”Gin, you’re wonderful,” Harry mumbled into his pillow as her always-warm hands
worked the knots. Soon, his breathing evened out and he was asleep. She ceased her ministrations, climbed into
bed next to him and drifted off herself.

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Professor McGonagall cleared Harry’s schedule for the following day. Neither she nor Harry had the slightest idea
how long he’d be at the Ministry, so it was all for the best. Cho Chang had volunteered to take over the Defence
against the Dark Arts fourth- and fifth-year classes that day while the rest of the DA read and discussed the
Auror Field Manual.

Harry escorted Ginny to breakfast, reminding her of their little experiment with their connection. They chatted
with Hermione and the Munchkins until it was time for class. He kissed Ginny goodbye and he mouthed in five
minutes. She smiled and left for her first class with Hermione, while Harry remained in the Great Hall finishing
his breakfast. After five minutes passed, he closed his eyes and thought of Ginny...only of Ginny.

He tried to focus on every last bit of love he had for her. He felt an overwhelming surge of love and of being
loved. He could feel himself enveloped in Ginny’s embrace. He could taste her lips and breathe in her flowery
scent as though she were right there with him. After an initial urge to resist the tide of emotion washing over
him, he let go. In his mind’s eye, he saw flashes of their most romantic moments during the summer, and some
not-so-romantic.

He felt her terror and saw, through her eyes, the sight of his seemingly lifeless body in Hagrid’s arms the night
of the battle. He felt her relief that he hadn’t died, but he also her fleeting moment of intense anger that had
dissipated when she came to him in the dormitory. He saw himself proposing to Ginny and from her point of
view, he thought what she had thought at that particular moment and felt the joy she had felt as he produced
the ring.

In turn, he concentrated on the nights he sat watch in front of the tent as he watched her dot on the Marauder’s
Map, longing for her and missing her. He conveyed his feelings as he passed her comforting the dying girl the
night of the final battle as he walked into the Forbidden Forest to face Voldemort. Her face, her kiss, all the love
for her he carried in his heart as he prepared to die. He then focused the way he had felt as he proposed, and
Ginny's room appeared almost as clearly as it would have in a Pensieve. Then everything went dark.

”Minerva, there doesn’t seem to be anything physically wrong, but until we get to the bottom of this, Mr Potter
and Miss Weasley should stay here until I can figure this out and revive them or until they awaken themselves
and we can talk to them,” she advised the headmistress.

”Are you sure, Poppy,” Minerva replied nervously. ”Mr Potter was due at the Ministry this morning.”

”Mr Potter isn’t going anywhere for a few days, Minerva, until we can determine the cause of their condition and
wake them up,” she argued. ”I would suggest that you Floo the Minister and let him know what’s going on.”

”But what should I tell him, Poppy? I can’t tell them he and Miss Weasley have passed out at the same time in
different parts of the school. It could jeopardise...”

”Just tell him they’re ill and we haven’t determined a cause yet,” she said. ”That way you’re not lying to the
Minister, but you’re not telling them anything either.”

”Do you think Mr Potter will be able to report on Monday morning then,” Professor McGonagall asked.

”I think so, but if anything changes, I’ll keep you posted,” Madame Pomfrey promised.

”Fair enough. I shall Floo the Minister immediately.”

Madame Pomfrey left her and returned to the hospital wing. Professor McGonagall arose and walked around her
desk to the fireplace and threw some Floo powder into the grate. ”Kingsley Shacklebolt's office,” she announced
clearly. She stuck her head into the green flames.

Kingsley Shacklebolt’s bald head appeared in the fireplace looking frantic. Professor McGonagall could clearly
hear angry voices in the background saying something about young upstarts being irresponsible and this whole
program is a mistake. ”Minerva! I was just about to contact you! Where’s Harry,” Kingsley thundered.

”I’m sorry Minister, but Mr Potter and Miss Weasley are...indisposed,” she replied.

”Indisposed? What do you mean, indisposed? Are they all right? What happened,” Kingsley asked frantically.

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”We’re not sure what the cause of their condition is, but Poppy has assured me that she’s doing all she can for
them. They’re in the hospital wing at the moment,” she said.

”Will they be all right,” Kingsley asked, now concerned as Arthur Weasley’s head joined his in the fireplace.

”Minerva, are Harry and Ginny all right,” the concerned father asked her.

”We think so, Arthur, but Poppy insists that they need to rest. We shall keep you apprised of the situation, but
for now, we ask that his appointment with the Auror Office be postponed until Monday morning,” she said with
an air of determination. She would not be bullied by the Minister or even a concerned father when the health of
her students was at stake.

”Of course, of course,” Kingsley promised. ”I’ll set things right here.”

”Minerva, when they’re feeling better, please ask them to send me an owl,” Arthur said, seemingly to know what
might have happened to his daughter and future son-in-law. ”It’s important.” This has something to do with that
bond between them, I’m sure of it.

”Of course, Arthur. Please pass my regards to Molly,” she said sympathetically. ”Minister, I shall keep you posted
as Poppy keeps me posted. I shall have Mr Potter owl you as soon as he is able.”

”Very good, Minerva. Meanwhile, Monday morning, same time, should be fine,” Kingsley assured her. ”Have a
good weekend.”

”Thank you, Minister. You do the same. Good day,” she said as she slowly raised herself up from the floor. So
much for a quiet term.

Harry opened his eyes. He lay in the hospital wing and in the bed next to him lay his beautiful Ginny. She was
awake and watching at him. ”Wow. Did you feel it too,” he asked.

”Yes I did, it and was incredible, especially the proposal. I could feel both my own feelings and yours. I love you
even more now that I know how nervous you were. It was so sweet,” Ginny smiled.

”You said yes before I even got the question out. I loved you so much then. I was in a panic. I was so afraid
you’d say no...after everything,” he gave her a wan smile. ”Gin, what happened to us,” he asked, suddenly
sober.

”I guess the experience was a little too overwhelming and we passed out.”

Just then, Madame Pomfrey came swishing up the aisle in her matron’s robes and starched apron. ”Would either
of you care to explain?”

”Are we all right, Madame Pomfrey,” Ginny asked.

”Well, except for passing out for no apparent reason, both of you are just fine. And that’s what worries me.”

”Really, Madame Pomfrey, you don't have to worry. We know what happened,” Harry said.

”Please explain then, Mr Potter. I hesitate to let you go unless I'm certain you are both all right.”

”We’ll need to count on your discretion,” Ginny said.

Madame Pomfrey raised her eyebrows in surprise, but nodded her agreement. Ginny explained that they were
trying to understand the bond between her and Harry that was evidently created during the Battle of Hogwarts.

”You should know better than play around with your minds and memories. Even going into a Pensieve can cause

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nausea on occasion,” Madame Pomfrey scolded. ”What you’re telling me is that you essentially dove into one
another’s minds at the same time. How much more powerful is the living mind than a memory preserved in a
Pensieve? It’s no wonder you passed out.”

”I didn't think of it like that,” Harry said rubbing the back of his neck.

”When we try this again, perhaps we should take turns diving into one another’s minds,” Ginny suggested.

”That sounds more sensible, but may I suggest you try when one of you is sleeping and part of your minds are
inert,” Madame Pomfrey offered.

”Madame Pomfrey, do you think we really should pursue this? I mean, I’ve been in a Pensieve, I entered
professor Snape's mind by mistake once, and even Riddle's a couple of times. Both the Pensieve and Legilimency
are more observatory, but what I experienced with Ginny is actually real, as though I was living it. Imagine
diving into a Pensieve and not only observing, but actually being there. I felt like Ginny and I were both there in
the very moment of that memory, re-living it, both of us feeling each other's emotions,” Harry said.

Ginny agreed with the last part even if she hadn't performed Legilimency or been in a Pensieve.

”If you learn to control it, I guess it will bring you very close together. Considering you are getting married, I
assume closeness is something you desire. I would advise caution, however, as this might have a profound
impact on your magic. A bond of love this strong, at least Dumbledore always said so, might affect your magic in
any number of ways.” She paused for thought and continued. ”Have the two of you cast your Patronuses lately?
Since they are closely-related to love and happiness, this is one occasion that indicates that one of your
Patronuses might have changed.”

They both reached for their wands, gazed into one another’s eyes and cast their Patronuses. To Madame
Pomfrey's surprise both of them produced a non-verbal Patronus. Ginny's Patronus took the shape of a doe,
standing next to Harry's stag. ”Gin, look,” Harry said grinning. ”Can you believe this?”

Ginny stared in disbelief. ”But my Patronus has always been a mare,” she exclaimed. ”What happened?”

”Merlin! There’s no doubt, Mr Potter. You have developed a greater magical ability and your bond has
transformed Miss Weasley's Patronus into a doe,” Madame Pomfrey said and looked at them with a new
admiration for their love for one another. This is the stuff of legends. ”Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

After lunch in the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey let them go with the admonition that they were to go directly
to their room and take it easy for the rest of the day.

”But Madame Pomfrey, I have an appointment with the Minister and Kingsley Shacklebolt,” Harry protested. ”I
should have been there already!”

”That has already been seen to, Mr Potter,” she said in her usually efficient manner. ”You are to stop by the
headmistress' office on the way back to your room, both of you. And I mean on the way back to your room.”
”Yes, Madame Pomfrey,” Ginny promised. Harry had arisen from a sitting position on his bed and took Ginny’s
hand to steady her as she rose to her feet. She wavered, still a little dizzy from the morning’s events. But the
dizziness passed almost immediately. She gave Harry a reassuring nod and they left the hospital wing for the
headmistress’ office.

They walked silently through the corridors, passing busy classrooms along the way. They could catch snippets of
the lessons going on in each of them as they passed. They arrived at the gargoyle, but still not knowing a
password, Harry simply told it, ”Professor McGonagall is expecting us.” The gargoyle leapt aside, allowing them
to pass through to the staircase leading to the office. Ginny knocked.

”Come.” Professor McGonagall’s voice invited them in.

”You wanted to see us,” Harry asked her, closing the door behind them.

”Yes, Mr Potter. Please sit down.” Professor McGonagall magically slid two comfortable-looking chairs opposite
her in front of the desk.

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”What happened this morning,” she asked with piercing eyes.

”Well...erm...Ginny and I decided to try a little experiment and it...erm...well...” Harry stammered.

”We didn’t do it right and it kind of...backfired,” Ginny finished, looking at Harry as if for confirmation.

”What kind of experiment, Miss Weasley?

Ginny didn’t answer, but shifted uneasily in her chair. She looked up at Harry again as if asking for help. He
squeezed her hand.

”Professor, with all due respect,” Harry began, choosing his words carefully. ”We’d rather not say...at this time.
It’s personal, between Ginny and me.”

”It’s okay, Professor. We’re not hurt. Just a bit...overwhelmed,” Ginny tried to explain without explaining.
”We’ve told Madame Pomfrey about it and she seems to think it’s nothing to worry about, but that we should be
more careful.”

”Well, I can’t exactly force you to tell me,” she said thoughtfully. ”But you must promise me you will do as
Madame Pomfrey has asked.”

”Of course, Professor. She has already...um...sent us to our room,” Harry said with a sly grin. ”She told us that
you’d already spoken with Kingsley...”

”I have. Your test has been rescheduled for Monday morning; however, you two have two owls to send. Mr
Potter, you will owl the Minister assuring him that you will be at the Ministry at nine o’ clock Monday. Miss
Weasley, you will owl your father and let him know that you and Mr Potter are all right,” she told them as a
direct order. She slid a piece of parchment and a quill toward each of them. ”You will do it now,” she said,
peering at them over her square spectacles.
Harry and Ginny scratched out their dispatches. As soon as they were finished, an owl swooped in to retrieve
them and then flew out the window. ”Off with you now,” she said, shooing them out of her office.

They arrived back to their room and Harry lit the fireplace. They changed into their pajamas and cuddled up on
the rug before it. ”So should we try the experiment again,” Ginny asked. ”Only this time we’ll go one at a time,”
she suggested.

”You first,” Harry said. ”You dive into me.”

”All right,” she said and they both closed their eyes. Harry let himself relax as Ginny concentrated on her love
for him. All of a sudden she was looking down on herself as through Harry’s eyes. Waves of love and desire
permeated her being as she experienced their first time from Harry’s point of view. She could feel the power of
his love and a magical surge throughout her body just as Harry had. She felt his climax as if they had physically
been making love at that moment and then came to herself. ”Harry, that was beautiful.”

Harry looked back at her with a silly grin. ”I wanted you to be a part of that. I mean, you were a part of it,
but...”

”I know what you mean, Harry,” she said pressing her fingers to his lips. ”You shared something with me that no
other woman may ever know—how it feels for her man.”

”My turn,” Harry smiled. They both closed their eyes again. Ginny let herself relax this time as Harry
concentrated on his love for her. Now he was looking up at himself as through Ginny’s eyes. He realised he was
about to experience what she just had, but in the reverse. He also felt the power of her love and the same
magical surge throughout his body. A fire erupted in his belly as he experienced her climax the same way as she
had felt his—in a way no other man could ever know. ”Wow, Gin. I don’ t know what to say...”

”You don’t have to say anything. Let’s just leave it at that—a beautiful experience just between us,” she
whispered, as he took her in his arms. They kissed tenderly and held each other close, saying nothing at all.
Soon, they fell asleep on the rug in front of the fireplace.

They had slept away most of the afternoon, when a knock came on the door. Harry started. Another knock.

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”Who is it,” Harry asked, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

”It’s me, Harry. Are you two all right,” called Hermione’s voice through the door. Harry opened the door and let
her in.

”What’s up,” Ginny asked her as she yawned and stretched.

”I hadn’t seen either of you since Ginny collapsed, so I went to the hospital wing to check on you. Madame
Pomfrey told me she’d sent you to your room for the day to rest,” she explained. ”She also told me you had
collapsed in the Great Hall, Harry. Are you all right?”

”We’re fine, Hermione, but there’s something we should tell you,” Harry replied, ushering her to the table. ”It’s
about our collapse.” Harry and Ginny told her about their experiment and what they’d done to cause the
collapse. They told her about waking up in the hospital wing and their conversation with Madame Pomfrey.

”She asked us to cast our Patronuses,” Ginny said. ”All we did was look at each other and...”

”You both cast non-verbal Patronuses,” Hermione guessed.

”Yes, but there was something different,” Ginny began again. ”Mine has changed from a mare to a doe.”

Hermione’s face told it all. ”That’s your bond. You’re truly soul-mates,” she said awestruck. ”Do you realise how
important this is?”

”What do you mean, Hermione? Of course we know it’s important,” Harry asked.

”Harry, you and Ginny both cast non-verbal Patronuses. That means the surge in your powers has nothing to do
with the Elder Wand. There’s something else involved,” she said triumphantly.

”This is just something inside me...us?”

”Yes, Harry. This is about you, not a ruddy wand!” Hermione glanced at her watch. ”Merlin’s pants! I need to get
downstairs. Ron’ll be here any minute! See you at supper!” Hermione jumped out of her chair, ran to the door,
threw it open, sprinted down the corridor toward the stairs to the Entrance Hall, but Ron wasn’t there. Thank
Merlin, I haven’t missed him.

Harry and Ginny changed back into their school robes and made ready to go to supper. Harry doused the flames
in the grate and took Ginny’s hand as he opened the door. ”Beauty before age,” he said cheekily as he let her
pass. They talked and held hands as they made their way along the nearly-deserted corridors toward the stairs
that led to the Entrance Hall. At the foot of the stairs stood a very anxious Hermione, glancing at her watch and
looking thunderous.

”Ron’s not here yet,” Harry asked.

”No, and he was supposed to be here ten minutes ago,” she snarled.

”Why don’t you just come in with us. He knows where the Gryffindor table is. Besides, he can make an
entrance,” Ginny laughed.

”Ron Weasley making an entrance. Now that I’ve got to see,” Harry snickered.

The food had only just appeared on the table when Hermione happened to look toward the door leading into the
Entrance Hall. There he was. Tall and lean and gazing straight at her. He took long strides up the hall toward
the Gryffindor table. She flew out of her seat and set out at a dead run toward him. ”RON,” she cried and threw
herself into his arms.

Every eye in the Great Hall trained on Ron and Hermione. He lifted her off the floor as she claimed his lips for a
longing kiss right there in front of the entire student body and staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry. The Hall erupted in cheers, applause, catcalls, and wolf whistles. Broken from their reverie, a severely
blushing Ron set an equally blushing Hermione back on her feet and she led him to the seat she had saved next
to her and Patricia.

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”That was some greeting, Love. Almost makes me want to go back out and come in again,” he murmured against
Hermione’s cheek.

”Hey, Ron. How’s it going, mate,” Harry said bumping his fist to Ron’s.

”We’re keeping busy,” he replied as he piled his plate with food. ”This looks and smells wonderful!”

”Girls,” Hermione said, remembering her manners, ”this is Ginny’s brother, Ron. Ron, next to me here is
Patricia. That’s Erica next to Harry, and that’s Emma next to Ginny. These are the Munchkins I wrote you about
the other night.”

”He is so much cuter in person,” Erica sighed, her eyes dreamy. Then she realised she had thought out loud and
blushed furiously, dropping her eyes to her plate. ”Sorry. I shouldn’t have...”

”It feels good to be appreciated,” Ron said with his signature lopsided grin. ”Ladies,” he nodded at the other
two.

”Hello, Mr Weasley,” replied Emma.

”Ron,” he corrected her. ”Hermione tells me you and your sister are Prewetts. We’re probably related.”

”Hello, Ron,” said Patricia. ”Hermione,” she whispered, ”can we ask him now?”

”Let me. He’s pretty shy about that sort of thing,” she replied. ”Watch this. Ron,” Hermione began.

”Yes, Love,” he answered between bites.

”Have you seen your Chocolate Frog card yet?”

”My what? Chocolate Frog card,” Ron exclaimed.

”Yes! Honestly, do you or Harry ever read Lee’s dispatches? We’ve managed to land on Chocolate Frog cards.
Ginny’s is a Limited Edition Weasley, awaiting a new Ginny Potter series.”

”Me? On a Chocolate Frog card,” Ron said to himself. ”Blimey!”

Hermione smiled at Patricia. ”See? I told you. Patricia, show Ron your cards,” she said.

Patricia reached into her robes and drew out a little plastic storage bag she saved her cards in. ”Here you are,”
she said brightly. ”It’s right on top,” she told him.

Ron opened the bag and took out the cards. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d been collecting these things for
years, and now he found himself among all those famous witches and wizards he’d admired for so
long—Dumbledore, Morgana, Merlin... Erica and Emma had produced their cards as well.

”Ron, would you be so kind as to sign your cards for the girls,” Hermione asked him, trailing a finger down his
chest.

”Uh...erm...well, sure. I guess so,” Ron stammered, clearly flabbergasted. ”Blimey. My face on a Chocolate Frog
card!” Hermione dug a self-inking quill out of her rucksack and handed it to him along with the girls’ cards. Ron
signed them and returned the quill and the cards.

”Thank you,” chimed the Munchkin chorus. Erica stared at her card, admiring it. Then she looked up at Ron and
then back at the card again. She sighed and put it away with the others she’d collected.

”I see you’ve packed a rucksack, ’Mione,” Ron observed. ”Does this mean you’re coming back to Hogsmeade with
me?” Ron waggled his eyebrows at his girlfriend.

”Yes, Ronald. I just have to be back for Supper Sunday night,” she replied with a smirk. ”That should give us
plenty of time to...catch up.”

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Harry and Ginny put their heads together and snickered. ”Well, then. You should probably get going. The clock’s
ticking,” Ginny teased.

”You ready,” Ron asked Hermione.

”Let’s go then. See you all Sunday evening,” she waved cheerfully to her friends. She took Ron’s hand and they
hurried out of the castle.

Not wanting to waste time walking, even though it was a pleasant enough evening, the Disapparated just
outside the gates right into Ron’s bedroom. Hermione tossed her rucksack into the corner and proceeded to
attack her boyfriend, who put up no defence. ”I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been thinking about tonight all
day,” she whimpered as she pulled his red head down for a kiss.

”’Mione,” was all he could say as she ran her tongue across his bottom lip and their kiss deepened. He twisted
his fist into her mane of curls and crushed her body into his, pressing the evidence of his desire into her belly.
He picked her up in his embrace and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Shockwaves began to course
through their bodies as the heat of their passion consumed them.

”Ron,” she moaned as he dropped his mouth to her neck and nibbled at her pulse point. ”I want you. I want you
now!” His jeans had become very tight as his arousal strained against the heavy fabric. He carried her the few
steps to the bed and gently lay her across it, both of them still clinging to one another. Finally, he got up and
tore his jumper and tee shirt off, then helped Hermione free of her blouse.

They arranged themselves on the bed in a more conventional manner and began a hot snog. Ron claimed her
mouth again and she shuddered. He reached behind her and released the clasp on her bra. He slipped his hand
under the fabric and across the soft globe of flesh. Hermione cried out his name and arched in to his arousal.
She wriggled free of the bra so he could remove it and toss it over his shoulder. She then began to fumble with
the zipper of his jeans. “Oh Merlin, ’Mione!”

They continued to explore one another’s bodies as they helped each other with snaps and zippers, leaving
nothing between them but their knickers. Hermione hooked her thumbs between the waistband of Ron’s boxers
and his tight abs. All that lifting he’s done all summer has paid off. Gods he’s hot. She slowly and seductively
began to lower them down over his well-defined arse until he was free. He pressed into her and once again he
strained against fabric. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her lace panties and literally tore them off
her, leaving them in shreds. ”Ron, now,” she cried as she adjusted her body to receive him. ”It’s been so long.”

”’Mione,” he cried as he entered her. She let out a deep moan that drove his desire and he crushed her lips
against his own. She parted her lips to allow their tongues to meet in a furious Paso Doble. There was no more
Hogsmeade, no more Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, no more world. All that existed was the two of them, locked
in physical love, made one.

Fire coursed through their veins as their rhythm increased in intensity, if not speed. He tore his lips away from
hers and buried his face in her bushy locks. Her lavender and vanilla scent filled his senses as he nipped at her
pulse point driving her into a frenzy. ”Oh gods, Ron,” she cried as she fisted a handful of flaming red hair. ”That
feels so...oh gods, I love you!”

Ron’s desire for his ’Mione exploded out of control. He growled and kissed her again—her luscious lips, across
her soft cheek, down her graceful neck. ”I love you, ’Mione” he moaned into her ear. ”You’re so beautiful, so
perfect.” The heat of their passion burst into flame around them as each cried out the other’s name in climax.
They collapsed in one another’s arms, still kissing and caressing until they fell into dreamless sleep.

Ron and Hermione spent Saturday shopping in Hogsmeade. They had lunch in the Three Broomsticks and then
stopped into the Hog’s Head for a visit with Aberforth. They returned later that afternoon so Ron could help
George run the store while Hermione pored over the books. George had asked her to have a look.

”Fred usually did that,” he explained. ”Neither I nor Ron have much of a head for numbers.”

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”I’ll see what I can do,” she promised and set to work in the back office. She pored over the ledger, reconciling
invoices and sales figures. What a disaster. These books haven’t been touched since last spring!

A few hours and a headache potion later, Hermione called George into the office. ”Okay, I’ve got your books
organised and the numbers straightened out. The good news is that you’re turning a profit—a nice one at that,”
she began to explain.

”And the bad news,” George asked with trepidation.

”You need a full-time accountant. Between the shop in Diagon Alley, the one here in Hogsmeade, and your
catalog sales, you’re swamped with paperwork. There’s simply no way you and Ron cold keep up with this
yourselves.”

”But where do I find an accountant,” George asked her.

”I’d suggest checking with Gringotts. They’d be able to help you find one, or maybe they’d take you on
themselves,” she suggested. ”Goblins may be a bit intimidating, but when it comes to your money, they’re at
least honest.”

”Thanks, Hermione. I’ll owl Bill and see if he can direct me,” George said, giving her a brotherly kiss on the
cheek. He turned and left her in the office.

Hermione emerged from the office and saw Ron restocking Skiving Snack Boxes. They were popular among
Hogwarts students and they had nearly sold out the week before the beginning of term. His back was to her, so
she crept up and slipped her arms around his waist. She thought she had caught him by surprise, but he heard
the swish of her robes as she approached.

He turned and trapped her in his strong arms, lifting her off her feet. He growled and buried his face in her
neck, giving her a nip. She squealed and pulled away so she could reposition her head to plant a passionate kiss
on his smirking lips. But just before she could lean in to kiss him, she found herself a willing prisoner, caught up
in his sapphire eyes. ”Hello, Beautiful,” he said softly, pressing his lips to hers.

”Hello Handsome,” Hermione purred. ”You were wonderful last night, did you know that?”

”You were pretty wonderful yourself, Love” Ron replied, his signature lopsided grin covering his face. ”I’m hoping
for an encore performance tonight.”

”Oh really,” she said cocking an eyebrow. ”And what about George?”

”George is going to be out tonight. He and Lee are meeting a few of their friends for a little reunion,” Ron said.
”So we have the place to ourselves.”

”I like the sound of that. What’s for supper then,” she asked.

”I thought we’d go to the Three Broomsticks again...and then come back here for...dessert,” he replied with a
twinkle in those gorgeous blue eyes.

”Mmmm. Sounds like a plan. I’ll supply the whipped cream,” she promised. ”And the chocolate sauce.” She
leaned in to hug him, but stopped and flicked her tongue at his ear lobe.

“I love chocolate,” he breathed into her ear. “And whipped cream. And you,” he said, kissing her again. ”Now,
Love, I need to get back to work and you need to send an owl to Harry and Ginny to invite them to lunch
tomorrow. There’s that new cafe that just opened and there’ve been some fine smells coming out of there.” He
reluctantly put her down, but kept his arms around her.

”Yes, I noticed that when we were out this morning. I smelled fresh bread baking. Grandmother Granger used to
bake her own bread...every Monday,” she remembered. ”Any restaurant that serves freshly-baked bread has got
to be a winner.” She kissed him and again and then broke his embrace, turning toward the stairs leading to the
upstairs flat.
Ron watched as she walked away. The sway of her hips held him entranced. I can’t believe that is mine...all

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mine. He smiled wickedly to himself and continued to stock the shelves and rearrange displays.

Harry and Ginny had just met the Munchkins at the portrait hole to escort them to supper. They spend the day
with them, taking them on a whirlwind tour of the Hogwarts grounds and then stopping at Hagrid’s for a cuppa
and one of Madame Maxime’s biscuits. The girls each took turns with Harry on his Firebolt, as he flew them a
few relatively speedy laps around the Quidditch pitch and around the castle.

”Wow, Harry,” exclaimed Patricia. ”That was fun! I’d never been on a broomstick before! Can we fly again
sometime,” she asked excitedly.

”Well, I’m sure you’ll be starting your flying lessons with Madame Hooch soon,” Harry said scratching the top of
his head. ”Then you’ll be able to take yourself up.”

”Yeah,” Emma chimed in. ”We have our first lesson on Monday. I’m so excited!”

”I’m not,” Erica said shakily. ”I’d rather fly with Harry or Ginny. I don’ think...”

”Don’t be silly,” Ginny chided her. ”You’ll be fine.”

”Yeah, if my friend Neville could do it, you can, Erica,” Harry promised. ”I have faith in you, so have a little faith
in yourself.”

After lunch, they hung out in the Gryffindor Common Room teaching the girls how to play Wizard’s Chess and
Exploding Snap until Harry began to yawn and stretch. ” I’ve had a great day with four of the loveliest ladies a
man could ever want to spend time with. But...I’m right knackered and could do with a nap,” he announced.

”I couldn’t agree more,” Ginny yawned in turn. ”I’m exhausted myself.”

The Munchkins voiced their disappointment, but Ginny reined them in. ”We’ll be by to pick you up for supper
tonight. Maybe we can go a few more rounds of Exploding Snap before bed. Deal?”

”Deal,” they agreed.

Supper, as usual, was as fine as it ever had been. There was fried chicken, ham, rolls, mashed potatoes, carrots,
salad, pumpkin juice, and Harry’s favorite, treacle tart, among several other desserts. Full to bursting, the five
of them made their weary way to Gryffindor Tower for the promised rounds of Exploding Snap. They had just
begun their third game when a tiny owl tapped impatiently at the window. ”It’s Pig,” Ginny said as she rose up
off the floor to let him in.

”Awww, he’s so cute,” Emma cried. ”Does he bite?”


”No, he doesn’t bite. In fact, he loves attention,” Ginny replied. ”Go ahead. Pat him.”

The girls each took turns letting Pig sit on their hands as they patted and cooed. The diminutive scops ate it up.
”Why is he called Pig,” Erica asked, making kissing noises at the bird.

”His name is Pigwidgeon,” Harry said. ”He’s Ron’s, but Ginny named him.”

”I think it’s a cute name,” cooed Emma. ”Pigwidgeon, hello Pig.”

Ginny had removed the small scroll from Pig’s leg and unrolled it. She scanned it briefly and then handed it to
Harry. ”It’s from Hermione. They want us to come to Hogsmeade tomorrow for lunch and to spend the
afternoon.”

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”Sounds good to me. I could do with a bit of fresh air before I have to take those tests on Monday,” Harry said
handing the note back to Ginny. ”Tell Hermione we’ll meet them at the shop about 11:00.”

Ginny borrowed a quill from Patricia and scratched their answer on the parchment. ”Come, Pig,” she called. She
gave him an owl treat from a packet she usually kept with her for the school owls. They tended to be more
co-operative when bribed with treats. ”Please take this back to Hermione. That’s a good boy.” She walked him
over to the window, and released him into the evening sky.

Chapter 7: The Test


[View Online] [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Chapter 7 – The Test

Harry and Ginny decided they would have a lie-in on Sunday morning before they met Ron and Hermione in
Hogsmeade. There was really no rush, since they didn’t have to be there until 11:00. They lay in bed waking up
lazily with gentle caresses and soft kisses, drifting in and out of sleep. Finally, Harry rolled over, pinned Ginny to
the bed and kissed her soundly. ”Good morning, my love,” he said, kissing her again.

”Mmm. Morning,” she smiled sleepily. ”Do we have to get up now?”

”If we’re going to shower and be in Hogsmeade in time to meet Ron and Hermione,” he answered, coaxing her
out of her half-stupor. ”Come on. We can save a few minutes if we shower together.”

”That sounds like fun,” she grinned as he raised himself off her so she could get up. ”Race you!”

Harry chased her into the bathroom, both of them leaving a trail of clothes from the bed to the shower. Ginny
turned on the taps and set the right temperature mix. They stepped in together and Harry immediately took her
into a tight embrace. He leaned in for a kiss, pressing their naked bodies together as the warm water flowed
over them.

”Harry, we’re showering together to save time, not make time,” she giggled. ”Here, wash my hair and maybe I’ll
let you brush it out.”

She handed him the bottle of her favorite shampoo—the one that imparted upon her that special scent of
wildflowers and strawberries. He squeezed a nominal amount into his hands and rubbed them together before he
worked it into a rich lather. He worked the fragrant foam through her luxurious tresses, gently massaging her
scalp. ”Ooh that feels nice, love,” she purred as he ran his fingers through her wet hair. That single comment
woke something up that he tried to ignore.

”Rinse, Gin,” he said as he helped her lean back into the spray of water. He pulled the soap from her hair until it
squeaked, then picked up the bar of soap in the dish and washed her body. He ran the soap gently over his
favourite parts of her until every inch of her was covered in silky bubbles and then caressed it away under the
stream of water issuing from the shower head.

”Your turn,” she cooed as they switched places. He handed her his bottle of shampoo with the woodsy spicy
scent that drove her wild—the scent that was so completely Harry. She massaged it into his raven hair, running
her nails across his scalp and then helped him rinse the lather away. She picked up the soap Harry had left in
the dish and washed every square inch of his body, running the soap gently over her favourite parts of him until
he was covered with silky bubbles. She caressed his chest as the water washed over him, rinsing the soap
away.

The simple act of taking a shower ignited a waterproof flame between them. Try as they might, they couldn’t
ignore it, nor could they extinguish it. It enveloped them and drew them together like a moth to a candle. Their
mouths collided in a mind-blowing kiss as their hands explored every inch of their now-clean bodies. Harry lifted
Ginny up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he propped her against the tiles. He lowered her down
slightly, entering her. ”Harry! Oh gods...” she cried.

”Gin...that’s so good,” he moaned. It didn’t take but a few minutes for their climax to roll over them in one huge
tidal wave crashing to shore. They remained motionless as the wave continued to roll until it quieted. They were

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both shaking as Harry set her down carefully, making sure she didn’t slip on the wet tiled floor of the shower. He
held her in a warm embrace for a few moments before they rinsed themselves clean again and stepped out of
the shower.

Each taking a fluffy towel in their hands, they set to drying one another off. Harry ran a brush through his
messy hair, noticing how long it had grown. It reached past his shoulders now and he figured it was time to start
tying it back like Bill’s, since Ginny had made it clear at one point that no barber would touch his hair without
her approval. He cast a quick drying charm on it and stepped out into the room to get dressed. Ginny sat in her
matching bra and panties waiting for him with her brush in her hand.

”Do you mind,” she asked silkily, handing him her brush.

”Sure, Gin. Just let me pull on a fresh pair of shorts first,” he replied. That done, he took the brush from her.
She gestured for him to sit on the bed, while she dropped a pillow to the floor and sat down between his legs. He
began to brush.

He marveled at how the simple act of brushing his beloved’s thick long hair made him feel closer to her, loving
her more and more with each stroke. He worked her hair in sections so as not to pull it and hurt her, and then
worked it all at once until it hung in one shiny flaming sheet. He cast the drying charm over it a few times until
it was only slightly damp.

”Thank you, Harry. I really enjoyed that.” She struggled to get up, so Harry held out his arms for her to hold on
to.

”You’re welcome, Love. I enjoyed it too,” he replied. ”I supposed we ought to finish dressing and get going or
we’re going to be late. You know how Hermione is about that,” he warned.

”Don’t I know it. She hates to be late and she really hates others to be late,” Ginny agreed. ”She’ll be in a right
state.”

They finished dressing and made for the door. The corridors were again mostly deserted as Sundays generally
found the students in their common rooms hanging out or doing homework. They descended the stairs hand in
hand, crossed the Entrance Hall, and walked out the door into the late-morning September sunshine. Since their
shower escapade left them short on time, they had to forgo a leisurely stroll in favour of Apparition to Weasley’s
Wizard Wheezes.

The clock at the post office chimed 11:00 on the nose when Harry and Ginny Apparated in front of the shop with
a pop! Ron and Hermione had just stepped outside moments before.

”You here on time,” Hermione laughed. ”I’m surprised. I thought you’d have a lie-in and...well...”

”We did have a lie-in. So much so that we didn’t even have any breakfast,” Ginny replied. ”Then we took a
shower to...”

”I don’t want to know. I do not want to know,” Ron cried, clapping his hands over his ears.
”So what have you two been up to,” Harry asked suggestively.

”Um...dessert,” said Ron conspiratorially. ”Chocolate dessert. Lots of whipped...”

”Oi! TMI, Brother-of-Mine! TMI,” Ginny cried in mock horror. The four friends had a good laugh at one another’s
reports of their weekend escapades.

Ron and Hermione told them about the new cafe where they would have lunch, so they all began to walk down
the street toward it. For a Sunday, the shops in Hogsmeade were quite busy. People milled about and chatted
animatedly.

Harry remembered how dismal the mood of the town had been that night last May when he, Ron, and Hermione
Apparated near the Hog’s Head the night the Battle of Hogwarts began. They had nearly been accosted by Death
Eaters. He would be ever thankful for the bravery and quick thinking of Aberforth Dumbledore. He decided he
would like to stop by the Hog’s Head before returning to Hogwarts that evening.

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”We spent yesterday with the Munchkins. We gave them the Grand Tour of the grounds, visited Hagrid for tea
and biscuits—those really yummy ones he learned from Madame Maxime—”

”Wait a minute. You’re telling me that Hagrid baked yummy biscuits,” Ron asked incredulously. ”All I’ve ever
tasted are his rock cakes. I nearly lost a tooth on one of those!”

”Yes, Ronald. He got the recipe from Madame Maxime and she taught him how to bake them. They’re very
good,” Hermione told him.

”And after we had tea with Hagrid, I flew them around the Quidditch pitch. I took extra time with Patricia, since
she had never seen a flying broom, let alone ridden one,” Harry said. ”We buzzed the Astronomy tower and
scared the hell out of a couple of snogging Ravenclaws!” They all burst into laughter again. ”You should have
seen their faces. Priceless!”

”They’ll think twice before they go up there again, mate. Word gets around, nobody will meet up there ever
again,” Ron said with a Cheshire grin.

”Harry tried to teach them Wizard’s Chess...” Ginny began before Hermione cut across her.

”Harry? Teach Wizard’s Chess??? That’s a hoot,” Hermione laughed.

”Hey, I’m not so bad,” Harry retorted as though his feelings had been crushed.

”You’re not so good either,” laughed Ron. ”I suppose I’ll have to take them under my wing.”

”Erica would be thrilled to be under your wing,” Ginny giggled. ”She thinks you’re cute. Your Chocolate Frog
card is her most-prized possession.”

”She has good taste in men, then,” Hermione said, defending her Ron. ”He is quite the handsome devil, isn’t he?
Heavy on the devil,” she said wickedly.

They arrived at The Hearth and went inside. It looked like an old country inn with its stone walls and rough-cut
furnishings. There were picturesque paintings on the walls and oil lanterns for light. An enormous fireplace
nearly took up the rear wall and there was a fire burning brightly.

They sat down at a table near it and ordered a round of Butterbeers from a plump middle-aged waitress. A few
minutes later she returned and set them down in front of them. ”Are you ready to order, dears,” she asked,
producing a parchment pad and quill. They placed their orders and continued their conversation.

”So you have to go to the Ministry tomorrow morning. Tests,” Ron asked, taking a pull from his bottle.

”Yes, practical tests. I was supposed to take them Friday, but...I’m sure Hermione’s told you,” Harry replied.

”No. Told me what,” Ron asked casting a side glance at Hermione. ”What were you supposed to have told me,
’Mione?” Ron leaned back and put his arm on the back of Hermione’s chair.

”I’m sorry,” Hermione said, placing a hand high on the inside of Ron’s thigh. ”I...I haven’t been thinking much
about Harry and Ginny since we got back here Friday night...” She blushed and took a sip of Butterbeer.

”Erm...no, I...I guess not,” Ron stammered, reddening. ”So what happened?” She’s trying to kill me.

”Well, on Friday morning...”

Harry was about to launch into the story when the waitress reappeared. ”Here you are, dears,” the cheerful
waitress sang. She served them their food from a large tray she had balanced on her shoulder. ”More
Butterbeer,” she asked.

”Erm...yes, please. All around,” Harry answered.

As they ate, Harry and Ginny told Ron about their experiment, the matching Patronuses they both cast

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non-verbally, which filled Hermione in with the details Madame Pomfrey had left out. Then they told them about
how they had repeated the experiment one at a time in their room that afternoon and how much better it
worked.

”So McGonagall fixed it with Kingsley so I can take them tomorrow. I have to be at the Auror Office at nine. I
have no idea how long this is going to take, but it sounds like I’m in for an all-day ordeal,” Harry said.

”I have the utmost faith in you and your abilities, Harry James Potter,” she scolded kissing his hand. ”And I
know you’ll do just fine.” And trust me, you and your abilities do more than fine.

”That’s right, mate,” Ron agreed. ”You’re bloody amazing with your...”

Hermione cut across him. ”You’ll be great,” she said, throwing a fierce look at Ron. She leaned in toward the
center of the table, motioning for the others to do the same. ”There’s an old Muggle saying that goes, Loose lips
sink ships. I think we need to not discuss your special abilities, Harry, or your bond with Ginny in public.”

”Why,” Ginny asked, shaking her head in confusion.

”Because, Ginny. Harry’s training to be an Auror. His special abilities will make it possible for him to be a very
successful one. If every Death Eater and petty criminal in the world is aware of his great power and the abilities
to go with it, not to mention the bond you share, it could undermine his ambitions for the Auror Office and make
your life together very difficult,” Hermione said urgently.

”So you’re saying that our bond...the connection...might make Ginny a target,” Harry asked.

”Harry, she’s been a target for years and for loads of reasons we don’t need to go into—our whole clan are
targets. We’ve had this discussion,” Ron said. ”I think what ’Mione is saying is that you—and possibly
Ginny—have powers most wizards only dream of. Armed with that knowledge, the criminal element will do all it
can to either hide from you or come out and challenge you in the off-hand hope that they might take down the
Great Harry Potter and make a name for themselves.”

Harry nodded as he considered his friends’ words. He’d been a legend since he was 15 months old and now a war
hero to boot. He hated that status and didn’t want it to progress any further. Hermione and Ron were right, of
course. If word got out into the Wizarding world that Harry Potter, Dumbledore’s Apprentice, wielded the
mythical power of Merlin... Bloody hell!

”Then we keep further chatter about any of this under wraps, yeah,” Harry finally said and placed his hand, palm
down in the center of the table. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione covered it with their own and nodded firmly in
agreement. ”Done.”

They finished their lunch, which Harry insisted upon springing for, and headed back out into the afternoon
sunshine. They enjoyed the day together just window shopping and musing about Christmas shopping and
unlikely possibility getting it done early.

”As if,” Ginny giggled. The two couples walked on together arm in arm.

”Hey, let’s nick over to the Hog’s Head for a drink. I’d like to look in on old Aberforth,” Harry said, remembering
he’d wanted to see the old innkeeper.

”We saw him yesterday,” Hermione said. ”He’s still Ab. But I’m sure he’d be glad to see you and Ginny.”

They had to backtrack a little to find the side street that would lead them to the Hog’s Head. It looked as dusty
as grimy as ever. So much so that one couldn’t see through the windows. That was the beauty of the place for
the likes of lowlife thieves like Mundungus Fletcher, defiant teenagers forming upstart paramilitary fighting
clubs, or young fugitives on the lam. One could be sure to find all kinds at the Hog’s Head and Aberforth
Dumbledore, secretly a member of the Order, could be usually be trusted to keep his mouth shut.

Just for fun, they raised their hoods to hide their faces. Harry opened the door for Ginny and Hermione to step
through and Ron then held it for Harry, closing it behind him. They must have cut an impressionable, if not
slightly terrifying, figure because all conversation stopped as nervous eyes rested on them.

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Ron cocked his head wordlessly to a table. The nervous eyes followed as they all sat down and put their heads
together, snickering like the pranksters they were. The rugged old innkeeper approached their table. ”What do
you lot want here,” he demanded.

”Firewhiskey,” Ron grunted, trying to control his laughter. The others had to hold their collective breath to keep
from shaking with mirth.

”That’ll be five galleons,” Aberforth growled slamming the bottle down on the table with four glasses. ”Hurry it
up. I haven’t got all day!”

Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out the gold, tossing it on the table. He looked at his companions, they
all nodded and dropped their hoods, finally able to release their laughter. ”Merlin’s earmuffs! It’s you ruddy
brave bastards,” Aberforth said with a huge grin. Then he cast an embarrassed look at Ginny and Hermione.
”Sorry, ladies.”

”We’ve been called worse,” Hermione giggled. ”Please, join us.” She conjured a fifth glass and asked Ron to pour
out as if the alcohol were tea.

”How are you, Ab,” Harry asked, shaking the old man’s hand. ”It’s good to see you again and under much
brighter circumstances! You know Ginny...”

Aberforth pulled up a chair nicked from an empty table. ”Of course I know this lovely little lass. Getting married,
are you? To this reckless git,” he asked Ginny, jerking his thumb at Harry. He then cast an angry eye at the
other customers. ”Mind yer own business ya ruddy fools, and don’t even think of coming over here and
bothering this boy!” The other patrons, relieved that they were not in the presence of Death Eaters—or
Aurors...that they knew of anyway—returned to their own hushed conversation.

”Yes, I am and we’re hoping you’ll be there,” she answered him, leaning into her fiancé’s shoulder. Harry raised
the hand he’d been holding under the table and brought it his lips and kissed it as he gazed into her eyes, if only
for a moment.

”I wouldn’t miss it. Al would be proud, I think,” he said with a faraway look in his eyes. He and his brother
hadn’t been on the best of terms, but they worked well together when the situation warranted it. He hated to
admit it, but Aberforth missed his brother, Albus. ”How’re Arthur and Molly?”

”They’re well. Dad’s still at the Ministry and Mum’s still holding down the Burrow,” Ginny said.

”Fine business, fine business. So then, what have you lot been up to since...since the recent unpleasantness,”
Aberforth asked haltingly. ”You’re with that brother of yours in that damnable joke shop, right?”

”Yeah, that’s right,” Ron answered with a smirk.

”And you,” he said pointing at Hermione. You’re finishing your studies up at the school?”

”Yes, I am. NEWT-level, so I can sit the exams and graduate.”

Aberforth turned back to Ron and said pointedly, ”You could take a leaf from her book, lad. There’s nothing
wrong with having an education. And what’s this I read in the Prophet that you, Mr Boy-Who-Lived-Ruddy-
Chosen-Saviour-of-the-Wizarding-World, are involved in some kind of Auror training,” Aberforth asked Harry.

”That’s right. A few members of the DA and I are part of a new training program for the Auror Office,” he
replied. ”It’s the Minister’s idea.”

”Ah yes, Shacklebolt. Good man,” Aberforth nodded. ”Smart bugger, too.”

Soon the bottle was empty and the four friends had quite a buzz on, as Old Ogden’s was rather strong stuff.
Finally, it was time to go. The four friends shook hands with their old friend and took their leave. They made
their slow way back to the shop as a chill wind began to blow. They stepped inside to find George at the
counter.

”Hey mates,” he called. ”Have a good day?”

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Ginny rushed over to give her older brother a squeeze. ”It was a great day, Georgie,” she said brightly. ”Ab
Dumbledore sends his...erm...regards.”

”I’m sure he does, the old goat,” George laughed. The others joined in, aware of the double entendre in George’s
remark. There had been an incident with Aberforth, a few charms, and a goat. ”So you must be about ready to
head back to Hogwarts. You staying for supper, Ron?”

”Yeah, McGonagall invited me,” he replied. ”What are you doing for supper?”

”Oh, Katie and I will grab a quick bite at the Broomsticks. She’ll be here in a tick or two,” he said with a wink.
”Then...who knows?”

”Well, I won’t be late because I’ll have to leave after supper...just so you know,” Ron warned his brother with a
sly twitch around his mouth.

”So noted, little bro,” George said. ”You’d better get going if you’re walking. It’s getting late.”

”Ron, I need...” Hermione began.

”I’ll get it for you, said Ron sprinting toward the stairs, his long legs covering the distance in half the time it
would have taken his girlfriend. He returned less than a minute later with her rucksack slung over his shoulder.
”We’d better get you two back to the school before McGonagall slaps you with detention and hangs Harry and
me off Gryffindor Tower,” he said, pointing to his girlfriend and his sister.

Ginny and Hermione hugged George goodbye, each planting a light kiss on his cheek. ”Thanks for letting me
stay,” Hermione said.

”Anytime, love. Any girlfriend of Ron’s is a girlfriend of mine,” he joked.

”Oi! You’ve got your own,” Ron called from the door. This beautiful creature belongs to me.

”Get out of here, you daft prat,” George called, lofting a balled up bit of parchment at Ron. Lucky bastard. Little
did Ron know that that was the second time he’d been referred to in that manner today. A lesser man would
have developed a complex.

Ron opened the door to the shop and ushered the others outside. The wind had indeed picked up and clouds
began to gather over Hogsmeade. The four friends cast warming charms on their cloaks and drew them up
around them as they set out on their walk toward Hogwarts castle. Another lovely evening in the Scottish
highlands blowing to hell in what was shaping up to be quite a storm.

Heavy raindrops began to fall as they approached the gates. They hurried the some-200 yards across the
grounds to the doors just as the deluge began in earnest. Ron and Harry pushed the great door open so they
could go in without being drowned. Lightning flashed followed almost immediately by the deafening crash of
thunder.

”Blimey! That was a close one,” Ron said shaking his cloak free of lingering raindrops. ”I wonder if the lightning
struck something.”

”I don’t know and I’m not about to stick my head out that door to find out either,” Harry replied. ”Let’s get into
the Great Hall. They’ll be serving supper soon.”

They strolled into the Great Hall toward the Gryffindor table, each couple hand-in-hand. All eyes were on Ron
and Hermione and whispers followed them. Hermione ignored them for the most part, but Ron caught phrases
like engaged, married, so in love. He blushed but smiled to himself. Soon, you ruddy gossips, soon.

They took their places at the table where the Munchkins and the boy Harry knew as Joseph from his first-year
Defence Against the Dark Arts class were huddled together in deep conversation, their Chocolate Frog cards
clutched in their hands.

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Harry cleared his throat. ”I wonder where our Munchkins could be. I haven’t seen them all day,” Harry said loud
enough for the whole house to hear.

”Yes, I’ve rather missed their shiny little faces,” Hermione added.

"I was so hoping to have supper with them tonight, especially one Miss Erica Prewett,” Ron said, also loud
enough for the whole table to hear. That did it.

”Ron,” Erica squealed as she jumped up out of her seat and ran to him, hugging him around the neck. ”Did you
and Hermione have fun?”
You have no idea, Miss Prewett. ”Yes, we did. Did you have a good weekend too?”

”Oh yes! Harry took us flying and he and Ginny played Exploding Snap and Wizard’s Chess with us,” she said
breathlessly. ”Today Emma, Pat, and I hung out with Joseph practising Expelliarmus and Wingardium Leviosa and
finishing our homework. We can do Wingardium Leviosa rather well, now. Wanna see?”

”Of course we want to see! Don’t we, Harry,” Ginny replied, squeezing Harry’s thigh under the table.

”Uh...yeah. Go ahead then,” he nodded. ”Let’s see you levitate that bun over there.”

Erica drew her wand and screwed her face up in concentration and took aim. ”Wingardium Leviosa,” she
commanded and the bun rose into the air. ”She wiggled her wand and sent it floating to Ron.

”Well done...and thanks,” Ron congratulated her as he raised the bun toward her, and proceeded to eat it.

Erica beamed as Ron accepted her gift. She hadn’t realised that the entire House had been watching. They all
stood and applauded her success. Gryffindor House, at least, was united under a banner of friendship and
support.

Patricia wandered over, stealing glances over her shoulder at Joseph. ”Um...Hermione? Can I ask you
something,” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

”Of course, Patricia. What is it,” Hermione replied.

Patricia whispered something in Hermione’s ear, causing her to break in to a smile. She whispered back to
Patricia, who nodded her head as if agreeing with her. Patricia whispered something back to Hermione again and
Hermione nodded. ”Go ahead.”

”What was that all about,” Ginny asked.

”You’ll see. Just wait,” Hermione replied with a smirk.

Patricia walked away from Hermione over to Joseph. ”It’s okay, Joseph. They won’t bite you,” she said to him
quietly. ”They’re really nice.”

Joseph slowly rose from the table with four Chocolate Frog cards in his hand. He looked at Patricia, who gave
him a reassuring nod and gave him a little shove toward the quartet. ”Ask Hermione first,” she advised.

”Um...Miss...Miss ’Ermione,” Joseph stammered in obvious London Cockney. ”Um...would you mind...um...I
mean, could you...erm...”

”What is it, Joseph? What can I do for you,” Hermione urged him, trying to keep a straight face. Harry, Ginny,
and Ron cottoned on to what was going on and did all they could to keep from laughing out loud.

”Well...I...I was wonderin’ if...ifyoucouldsignmyChocolateFrogcards,” he said, blushing so red he glowed.

Unable to hold it in any longer, the four of them erupted in gales good-natured laughter. ”Of course we will,”
they all said at once. ”Here, Hermione,” Ginny said. ”Ron, Harry.” The children lent them quills so they could
sign Joseph’s cards.

Hermione collected the now-signed cards and handed them back to Joseph with the quills. ”There you go,” she

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said with a wink.

”Lor’ Miss ’Ermione! Thank you! Thank you, Miss Ginny! Thank you Mr Weasley, sir! Thank you ’Arry,” Joseph
simply gushed as he stared down at his cards in wonder. ”Thank you,” he said backing away as if from royalty.
He rejoined the Munchkins at the table, sitting down next to Patricia.

”What a little cutie,” Ginny said as she snuggled close to Harry. ”I think he’s got his eye on our Patricia.”

The four friends talked more about Harry’s upcoming tests the next day, again giving him encouragement.
Professor McGonagall approached them unnoticed.

”Mr Weasley, due to the storm blowing around out there, when you leave tonight, come to my office and you
may Floo back to Hogsmeade,” she offered. ”That’s weather fit for neither man nor beast.” She shivered and
seemed to draw her robes closer around her.

”I will, Professor. Thanks,” Ron answered gratefully. ”I appreciate that.”

”Mr Potter, I assume you and Miss Weasley are well?”

”Yes, Professor. We’re fine,” Harry assured her.

”Very well,” she said simply as she made her way back to the staff table.

”Ron, Hermione, come on up to our room and we’ll chat a bit without this lot to disturb us,” Harry said. ”We
can...uh...talk freely.”

They all stood and stepped over the benches. ”Good night, Munchkins. Good night, Joseph,” Ron said as they
made to leave.

”Night,” they replied.

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione left the Great Hall and climbed the stairs toward Harry’s and Ginny’s room.
Harry muttered, ”Lawnmower,” and the latch clicked to admit them.

”Lawnmower,” asked Ron. ”What kind of a password is that?”

”Bill told Harry about the lawnmower incident with the twins when I was little,” Ginny explained. ”Harry thought
it was funny, so...well, there you are.”

”Oh that! Mum was furious,” Ron remembered with a chuckle. ”Fred and George had to work in the garden for a
month!”

”What are you on about,” Hermione asked, looking around at her three friends. ”Does anyone care to let me in
on the joke?”

Harry considered trying to start the fire without his wand. He looked to make sure the others weren’t watching.
He concentrated and then waved his hand before it. Sure enough, fire erupted in the grate with a whoosh! When
the others turned toward him at the sound, he pretended to tuck his wand into his robes. Note to self: Tell Ginny
about that later.

They settled down on the rug as couples as Ron began to tell the lawnmower story from his point of view. It was
much better when Ron told it, Harry thought as he listened. When he was finished, the four of them roared,
clutching their sides and falling all over themselves.

A couple of hours later, Ron decided he should leave. ”I need to be going, mates,” he announced, standing up to
his full height and stretching his muscular arms above his ginger head revealing a patch of matching hair that
ran from his navel into the waistband of his jeans. It’s late and Harry’s got a big day ahead of him.”
How did I land such a hunk? ”I’ll walk with you to McGonagall’s office,” Hermione offered.

”Oh no, Love. I will walk you to Gryffindor Tower and go on to McGonagall’s office once I have you...right there

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on the sofa in front of that huge fireplace...safely inside,” Ron said defiantly. ”I won’t have Filch harassing you.”

Hermione didn’t bother to argue. She didn’t want this glorious weekend to end in bickering. ”All right then,” she
said softly as Ron slung her rucksack over his broad shoulder. Don’t start crying, Granger. Tears began to well
up in her cinnamon eyes. Damn. She knew Ron didn’t do well with weeping women, but she just couldn’t help it.
He stood right next to her, but she missed him already. ”Night,” she said, hugging Harry and Ginny in turn. ”See
you at breakfast.” Her lip began to tremble.

”See you,” Ron said as he slapped his best friend on the shoulder and kissed his sister’s cheek.

Ron and Hermione left the room and headed for Gryffindor Tower. Hermione tried hard to stifle choke back her
sobs and blink away her tears, but it was no good. Ron noticed. ”’Mione, what’s all this. Aw, don’t cry, love. It’s
not so bad,” he said as she burst into tears, pulling her in closer as they walked.

”Ron, I...I...just miss you already! When I’m away from you, I feel so...so empty...so alone,” she sobbed. ”I don’t
know what’s the matter with me!”

Ron felt tempted to stop right there and press her against a wall to snog her senseless, but he kept walking,
urging her to the portrait hole. ”We have next weekend, love,” Ron suggested, stroking her hair and planting
gentle kisses on the top of her head. ”You can come over to Hogsmeade again and we can spend some time
together then.”

”I know. It’s just that...well, that’s five whole days without your touch, without your kisses, without...”

Whatever the third item on her list was, Ron never found out because his heart swelled with so much love for
this weeping angel in his arms, he couldn’t hold back. He claimed her lips in a blistering kiss as a wave of desire
coursed through him, setting his brain on fire. ”Merlin, ’Mione! I love you,” he murmured into her mouth, his
tongue slipping between her pouting lips.

Hermione had been taken by surprise at Ron’s ardor but responded with only a moment’s hesitation as her
knees turned to water. Only his strong arms kept her on her feet. She slid her hands under Ron’s shirt and ran
them wantonly over his broad chest and around his waist to his back. She loved the very feel of him under her
hands. It felt so right. ”Gods, I love you, Ronald Weasley. I need you so,” she whimpered back into his lips, her
tongue tangled with his in a wild fury. Finally, the realisation of where they were struck her like a rogue
Bludger. She tore her lips away from his. ”Ron, we can’t do this,” she said panting, her face flush with desire.

Ron’s sapphire eyes had long since gone cobalt with his passion. They glowed in the torchlight as he cast a still-
blazing look at her. ”I know, but you do something to me...I just lose control sometimes,” he confessed. ”I just
can’t get enough of you.”

”I know, my love, but we have to try to keep ourselves under control, as least here,” she reasoned. ”I know it’s
difficult, but we haven’t much choice.” She began to cry again.

”Please don’t cry. I’ll owl you as soon as I get back,” he promised. ”I’ll send Pig...”

”No, Ron, don’t. Don’t send an owl out, especially such little one, on a night like this. I know you love me and
that you’re thinking about me,” she said, trying to convince herself as well as Ron. ”That’ll have to do for now.
I’ll carry what we shared over the weekend with me all week until I can be with you again.”

Ron’s heart melted as she confessed her love for him. “’Mione, I’ll be practically living on it!” He took her in his
arms again and kissed her tenderly. “I’d better go, now or I’ll never get out of here. You get to bed and get some
rest. NEWTs are tough classes and you need your wits about you. Now, turn around and don’t look back. Just
give the pink lady the password and climb inside. Remember...don’t look back.”

Hermione nodded and turned around as Ron walked away, a tear stealing down his own cheek. He ached for her
almost constantly and to watch her cry like that just broke his heart. He couldn’t bear to leave her side, but he
couldn’t stay there either. Although he’d forbidden her from looking back as he walked away, he stole a glance
back over his own shoulder in time to see her pass through the portrait hole. It swung shut with a click.

Hot tears streaming down her face, Hermione whispered the password, "Excelsior.” The portrait swung away
allowing her to enter into the common room. She was sobbing before she got to her bed. She sadly changed into

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her nightgown, crawled into her bed, pulled the curtains and cried herself to sleep and dreamed.

Harry had time for only a quick bite with Ginny before he trotted up to McGonagall’s office to Floo to the
Ministry. Harry stepped confidently out of one of the oversized fireplaces into the chaos of the atrium. He
approached the Welcome desk and showed his form to the Wand-Checker.

”Ah, Mr Potter. No need to check your wand. Here are your credentials,” he said.
Harry looked at the ID badge: Harry J. Potter, Auror Training Program. There was a recent photo of himself
smirking back with his birth date, height, weight, hair and eye color listed below it—much like a Muggle driver’s
licence, only larger. It was attached to a lanyard he slipped over his head. ”Thanks,” Harry said and passed
through to the lifts and rode to Level Two where the Auror Office was located. He was welcomed by the Head of
the Auror Office, Gawain Robards himself.

”Welcome Mr Potter. As have already been told, we will conduct interviews and tests today. Our purpose is to
estimate what kind of support your training program needs to meet Auror training standards for those of you
who wish to take the Auror exam. Of course, we will also have to evaluate your mental and emotional fitness to
become an Auror at all. Remember Harry, from this moment on, everything we say to each other is part of the
interview. You are cleared to react in any manner you find necessary, but as you probably understand, there will
be no need to perform lethal spells.”

”Everything is a part,” Harry asked.

”Yes, so keep your eyes open and your wand ready.”

”Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir,” Harry answered.

Robards smiled and pointed towards a door. ”Your test begins when you walk through that door.”

Harry stepped through the door with his wand raised and found himself in a completely empty room. He thought
for a moment about what he should do, and then decided to try a non-verbal Homenum Revelio. Harry could
sense the presence of someone on his right, probably under either a disillusionment charm or an invisibility
cloak. The other person was either hiding and the test was to see if Harry could find him or her, or it could be a
test to fight off a surprise attack.

Harry decided to go for a stun. ”Stupefy,” Harry yelled and a red bolt shot away and hit its target. A man
became visible and fell unconscious to the floor. He then used Incarcerous to tie the unknown man and
approached him. ”Ennervate,” Harry said pointing his wand at the man, who opened his eyes. ”I'm here for my
Auror test. Why are you hiding here?”

The man blushed. ”I was supposed to stay hidden, but if you discovered me, I was to attack you.”

The door opened and Robards entered without his wand in hand. ”What happened Harry?”

Harry felt a tingle of suspicion. This seemed too easy. ”If you are Gawain Robards, what was the one thing you
told me I wouldn’t need for these tests,” Harry asked, his eyes narrowed.

Robards stopped. ”There will be no need for the Unforgivable curses.”

Harry hesitated for a moment and then shot off a non-verbal stunner at Robards, who fell to the ground.

”Very good Harry,” Robards’ voice boomed. ”I told you there will be no need for lethal spells. Well done Harry.
This room is finished.”

Harry looked, somewhat confused, at the stunned Robards on the floor and the one standing in the doorway
talking with him. ”Polyjuice potion, I presume” Harry determined.

”Correct,” Robards answered him.

Harry shook his head. These tests where certainly going to be demanding. Only a few minutes into the tests, he
had already stunned a person who appeared to be the Head of the Auror Office. If he had been wrong, he would

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probably have ruined any chance of become an Auror. Next, he was led into another room. Robards followed
him, and inside sat three Aurors. The only one Harry had ever seen before was John Dawlish. He nodded,
respectfully acknowledging the Senior Auror. They sat in a circle and Dawlish presented Aurors Dawlish,
Williamson and Smith, gesturing for Harry to sit. They all greeted him with nods. ”Potter.” Harry nodded his
response.

”Now, Mr Potter. We wish to discover a little bit about your skill level to determine what, if anything, you will yet
need to learn to become a fully-fledged Auror,” Robards told him. ”First of all, we need to ask you about your
dueling experience.” All four of them looked at Harry and he supposed he should say something.

”I faced Riddle for the first time when I was eleven, unless the time when I was a baby counts. But I never
actually did any dueling until my second year in Professor Lockhart’s dueling club at Hogwarts. In my third year,
I had to disarm Professor Snape, and in my fourth year, I dueled Riddle for the first time.”

”By Riddle, I suppose you mean Voldemort. How did that turn out,” Williamson asked.

”Yes, Tom Riddle was his given name. I guess you could call it a draw, but I was heavily outnumbered by Riddle
and his Death Eaters, so all I could do was get out of there by Portkey. In my fifth year, I trained Dumbledore's
Army to duel, among other things and then dueled Death Eaters and fought Riddle in the atrium of this very
building. That time, though, professor Dumbledore intervened and fought him off.” As no one interrupted him,
he continued. ”During my sixth year, I fought in the Battle of the Astronomy Tower the night Professor
Dumbledore was killed. Last year, I dueled Death Eaters Again on several fronts, and finally Riddle himself
during the Battle of Hogwarts. That time I won. Harry paused. ”I guess that sums it up.”

”Very impressive, Mr Potter. Next, we must ask if you have any experience defending your mind,” Dawlish said.

”I was taught Occlumency and Legilimency by professor Snape. It wasn't until last year that I was able to
successfully use it against Riddle. I used Legilimency during the Battle of Hogwarts to keep track of him and his
movements. I also managed to shut him out of my head to prevent him from doing the same. In my fourth year
at Hogwarts, I managed to throw off the Imperius curse and in my third, Professor Lupin taught me how to
produce a Patronus to defend myself against Dementors,” Harry said.

By now, the room had gone silent. Auror Robards cleared his throat. ”Er..well, thank you Mr Potter. It is also
necessary for an Auror to be able to track his quarry, sometimes using disguise, concealment, and stealth. Have
you any experience there?”

”I successfully entered Hogwarts undetected by the Death Eaters who had a stranglehold on the school. Last
year before the Battle of Hogwarts, I broke into Gringotts and escaped with what I had gone there for. I have
also sneaked into the Ministry twice, in fifth year and again last year. Two very heavily guarded and protective
places, I must say. I have used Polyjuice potion for disguise on several occasions, and engaged in a lot tracking
last year in a search for several dark objects. I was the most wanted person last year, but stayed concealed. I
was captured once by Snatchers, but was still able to escape. I had managed a couple of narrow escapes before
and since then.”

”What about those dark objects you just told us about,” Smith asked.

”They were tracked down and disposed of. That's all I can tell you,” Harry replied.

”As Head of this Office, I order you to tell us about them,” Robards said forcefully.

”As far as I'm concerned, I don't work for this Office, so I am not obligated to obey that order. But even if I did
work for you, I am bound by orders from the Minister for Magic regarding those objects. Further questions about
them should be directed to him,” Harry said flatly after a moment's consideration.

Robards grinned slightly. ”Very well, Mr Potter. Have you any experience with dark creatures?”

”Apart from the ones I learned about at Hogwarts, I have faced a fully-grown mountain troll, a three-headed
dog, a nest of Acromantulas, a 60-foot Basilisk, a Werewolf, Tree Dragons—one a baby—Inferi, and Riddle's
snake, Nagini.”

Williamson looked at him, eyes glinting. ”Do you have a criminal record, Mr Potter?”

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That depends on what you define as a criminal record. ”I performed some unintentional underage magic at my
Aunt’s home, although it wasn’t actually me who did it. It was a house-elf. I had been accused of casting a
Patronus in the presence of my cousin, who is a Muggle. I was acquitted because it was a life-threatening
situation as the thing had been attempting to kiss him. I have never been prosecuted for breaking into Gringotts
or the Ministry. Finally, there had been warrant issued for my arrest last year, but I think it's safe to say wasn't
for any crime I committed. To answer your question, then: No, I don't have a criminal record.”

Robards seemed rather amused. ”Finally Mr Potter, why do you wish to become an Auror?”

”I’ve pretty much dedicated my life to the fight against the dark arts, and I wish to do so among the best there
are. I believe I can make a difference as an Auror.”

”Thank you, Mr Potter.” Robards said. ”That will be all.”

As they stood up as if to leave, a still, small voice told Harry to stun Auror Smith. Harry felt his hand go for his
wand, but quickly recognised the sensation of being Imperiused. Harry threw it off and looked at the Aurors.
Dawlish appeared to cover a wand in his robes, so Harry drew his wand and cast the Protego charm, followed by
an attempt at non-verbal Legilimens. He caught Dawlish off guard, receiving the image from his mind revealing
that it was he who had cast the curse. Harry waved his wand and stunned him. The other three looked at him in
shock and disbelief.

”Mr Robards, Dawlish cast the Imperius curse on me,” Harry said indignantly. ”He wanted me to stun Auror
Smith.”

”Calm down. How do you know it was Dawlish?”

”He was the only one using his wand and I read the actual casting from his own mind.”

Dawlish got up and looked at Harry. ”Good work. Did you use Legilimens non-verbally? I was taken altogether off
guard by it.”

”Well, yes. I did.”

The four men sat down again. ”Let me get this straight, Harry. You can perform Legilimency non-verbally,”
Robards asked him.

”Well, it was actually the first time I ever tried it. But I thought I might be able to because I can cast my
Patronus non-verbally.”

”Harry, I have never heard of such a thing! I thought you might be a good Legilimens and Occlumens considering
you were taught by Snape, the man who outsmarted Voldemort, whom you also managed you shut out, both of
whom were master Legilimens,” Gawain told him. ”But when did you master non-verbal magic on that level?”

Harry considered how he would keep his and Ginny's bond secret without telling an outright lie. ”It was after the
Battle of Hogwarts,” Harry replied. ”But I'm not sure how.”

”Do you have a theory,” Robards asked.

”All I can imagine is that very ancient magic, much like that which spared my life as a baby, came into play at
the battle. Further questions must be directed to the Minister for Magic.” No one else had anything more to ask
or add, so they broke for lunch. Harry met Arthur in the Ministry restaurant.

”Hello Harry! I didn't know you were here,” his surrogate father called.

”Hello Arthur. I'm here for an interview and tests at the Auror Office.”

”Really now? How is it coming?”

”They’re demanding tests, so I honestly don't know how I'm doing.”

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”I'm sure you're doing fine. How’s our Ginny,” Arthur asked.

”Right, we haven't sent you an owl yet, have we? Ginny’s fine, studying hard. We have a room together; that
helps us focus. On each other. I think she's planning Quidditch tryouts for next weekend.”

Over lunch, the two men chatted about school, the training program, and the visit with Ron and Hermione at
Hogsmeade. He also told Arthur about the Munchkins.

”They’re Prewetts, Arthur. Ginny and Ron seem to think you might be related,” Harry told him.

”Prewetts, eh? If they are related, they’re Molly’s people. The Prewetts and the Weasleys are very old Wizarding
families,” Arthur told him. ”Like the Potters, Harry.”

After lunch Harry returned to the Auror Office where he was shown to a room were Robards awaited him.
”Harry, we’re going to test your dueling skill this afternoon. As before, no lethal spells will be necessary. We all
want to be able to walk out of here in one piece today.”

Dawlish entered and he and Harry saluted one another. ”Duel,” Robards commanded, and Harry and Dawlish
began. Harry went easy at first, not certain how strong the magic his wand would produce might be. His shield
held back Dawlish's spells, and after a few minutes Harry felt he had managed to gain control over his increased
power. He ended the duel with a stun that sent Dawlish flying across the room, landing on his back on a mat
placed there for safety. Robards had been taking furious notes.

Next, Smith and Williamson entered. Two against one, is it? After the proprietary salutes, the duel began. Harry
felt less concerned about causing injuries, as he distracted Smith with a non-verbal Levicorpus, disarming
Williamson a split-second later. He released Smith onto the mat, summoning his wand as he fell. Clutched
tightly in his fist, Harry held the wands of the two defeated Aurors.

Next, three Aurors Harry didn't know entered. This time Harry felt a little nervous and decided to fight to his full
capability from the off. He put up a non-verbal shield at the same time as he confunded the first wizard to buy
some time. Stuns and curses flew against him. Harry Apparated to a point behind the Aurors and stunned both
of them. Harry chose to disarm the one he had confunded.

”Well done, Mr Potter, ”Robards complimented him, ushering him into a study. He told Harry to follow the
instructions inside. Outside the room, Kingsley approached the Head Auror and sat down.

”So, how is it coming,” Kingsley asked.

”Does he know this test is the actual Auror exam,” Robards asked.

”Of course not. We do this in order to see what he needs to learn. So, how is he doing so far?”

”He beat the record in the first room. And he stunned my Polyjuiced double without hesitation.”

Kingsley looked amused. ”Impressive.”

”A gross understatement, if you ask me. His record of achievement is of course outstanding. He has already
faced situations most Aurors never do. He also cast off the Imperius curse and revealed who cast it.
Furthermore, he used non-verbal magic not even Dumbledore was able to do—Legilimency and the Patronus.
And the dueling test was unlike anything I’ve ever seen! First, he seemed a bit uncertain and mostly defended
himself for a few minutes before taking out Dawlish with one attack.”

”Uncertain or cautious, Gawain. With Harry, it’s hard to tell sometimes,” Kingsley said.

”Judging from what I’ve seen, probably cautious might be the better word. Anyway, King. Next he took out two
of us in a mere flash. Finally, he defeated three Aurors in an instant and didn't even seemed to be pushed to his
limits. I’m telling you, the man never broke a sweat,” Gawain exclaimed. ”Aurors are supposed to be good at
dueling. We never stood a chance against Potter.”

”He was Dumbledore's apprentice. Don't you forget that. And he defeated Voldemort.”

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”There were a couple of questions he refused to answer and told us to direct them your way, Minister,” Gawain
said.

”Yes, and I can guess which ones. I can only say that proves his loyalty. I'm sorry, Gawain, but I can't tell you
what it’s about either.”

Inside the room, Harry had to sit a written exam and brew a complex potion. Then, he was transported by
Portkey to various rooms to face different creatures and get past them before he could Portkey back. He worked
diligently until Robards entered and stopped him. Harry was escorted to Kingsley's office and waited until
Robards entered and gave Kingsley a parchment.

”Harry,” Kinsley finally spoke. ”You are finished with your test. I will now let you know that you have taken the
Auror exam. In the first room, you set a new record. Your interview clears you as fit to be an Auror. Your
dueling skills have set new records, beating even Mad-Eye's. Your written test was fine except for the elements
concerning Ministry organisation, Magical Law, and Auror Field Manual.”

Harry looked at them, stunned. Had they put him through the actual Auror exam?

”Harry you have done far better than we ever imagined you would,” Robards confessed. ”The parts you failed
are those you possibly couldn't have had time to study. We didn't expect you to do this well on any of it.”

Kingsley continued. ”We have decided to appoint you an Auror Intern, which means that you are not yet a
licenced Auror, but you will have only to re-take the elements of the written exam you failed as soon as Gawain
decides you’re ready. It will also allow you to tag along on missions, allowing you to gain some field experience;
however, interns are unpaid.”

Harry had a hard time believing what he heard. Except for a few written elements, I’m a ruddy Auror! ”Thank
you, Sir. And it’s okay about the paycheck. I’m fine that way.”

”Harry, I also want to inform you about an international convention,” Kingsley continued. ”Several of my
colleagues around Europe seem eager to talk about further international law-enforcement co-operation. For that
reason, the convention will be held in three weeks. On the opening night, Friday, there's an Kick-off Ball and I
would really appreciate if you could come. Harry, I don't like asking you to participate in these sorts of things
because I know you like to keep a low profile, but it would mean a lot if you could be there. Ginny is welcome, of
course, and Ron, Hermione and Neville will be invited too.”

”It's all right, Kingsley...sorry, Minister,” Harry said. ”Ginny and I will be there. I appreciate what you have done
to give us some privacy, and I know you wouldn't ask this of us if it wasn't important. I can't escape publicity, I
need to learn how to handle it and keep it at a reasonable level.”

”Thank you Harry. Now I would advise you to prepare a speech, but I won't put you up as a featured speaker
unless you want me to. But then again, I suppose everyone will expect a speech,” Kingsley sighed. ”How is the
situation with owls, now that you're back at Hogwarts?”

”Fine, thank you. I don't know what you did with them, but all owls except the ones from people on my list come
to Lee Jordan's team. They sort them out and respond to a lot of them. We've been giving Lee instructions as to
what they can send on to us.”

”If I may ask, what do you respond to personally,” Gawain asked out of curiosity.

”I get a lot of requests for autographs, but I try to limit that to children who have suffered the loss of family
members during the war. Others write personal letters, which Lee responds to with answers I have already given
him regarding a number of frequently asked questions.”

”What questions are most common,” Kingsley asked.

”The most common right now is when Ginny and I are getting married. And before you ask, I promise you will
know when you get the invitation. We haven’t set a date yet.”

Kingsley laughed. ”Well, thank you Harry! Well, here's your and Ginny's official invitation to the ball, and of

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course, it’s dress robes,” Kingsley said and handed a parchment.

The meeting was over, Harry stepped into a Ministry Floo and returned to Hogwarts. It's was dinner time and the
Great Hall it was already full of people. He scanned the Gryffindor table and found Ginny sitting there. He strode
up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables and slid in next to her. He pulled her close and kissed
her soundly. ”Hey, Gorgeous Girl,” he said, kissing her again.

”Hey, Gorgeous Guy. How did it go today,” she asked.

”You're not going to believe this, but they put me through the actual Auror exam and I didn't know it until
afterwards.”

”The Auror exam, the one that takes three years of Auror training,” Ginny asked.

”That would be the one, but keep it down. The others aren't supposed to know,” Harry admonished her just
above a whisper.

”So how did it go?”


Harry blushed. ”I sort of passed... except for Magical Law, the Auror Field Manual and Ministry Organization,”
Harry said ”My practical results set some new records, though. Kingsley told me I’d beaten some of Mad-Eye’s.”

Ginny’s face broke out in a huge grin. ”Harry, that’s wonderful!”

Ginny read the parchment and then at Harry again. ”Are we going,” Ginny asked.

”I think we should. In fact I already told Kingsley that I’ll come and I would really like you to be my date, Gin. I
don’t want to do anything this public without you by my side. Kingsley wouldn't ask us if it wasn't important.”

”Of course I will come and you wouldn't dare take another date, Mister,” Ginny said. ”I'd put both you and the
wench in St Mungo's.”

”I’d like to buy you a new dress,” he said into her eyes.

”Permission granted,” Ginny smiled. ”Now tuck in before the food disappears!” She began to pile all the foods
she knew he liked best onto his plate as he grabbed the last piece of treacle tart. Harry didn’t realise how
hungry he really was until he began to eat.

Hermione appeared at the table just as supper was about to be cleared.

”Where in Merlin's name have you've been,” Harry asked.

”Oh, I lost time reading about the history of the Wizengamot,” Hermione replied.

”Lost time, as in fell asleep out of boredom, or as in pure fascination,” Harry asked sardonically.

”Ha, ha very funny, Potter. Actually there's a lot to learn from history.” Hermione said grabbing some food while
she still could.

”Are there anyone but you studying History of Magic at NEWT-level? I thought Professor Binns scared everyone
away after fourth year,” Harry grinned.

”Professor Binns is an excellent teacher, and he actually lived during many of those events.” Hermione said.

”Hermione, the man is dead! It’s a wonder no students have died in class and joined him,” Ginny said. Hermione
shook her head in mock disgust and let the subject drop. Harry told Hermione about his day and that she and
Ron should expect an invitation to the ball.

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When he and Ginny were finally alone in their room, he told her in detail about the magic he had performed and
the duels he had won. ”I seem to be able to do everything both verbally and non-verbally. Watch this,” Harry
said, waving his hand across the fireplace. It instantly burst into flame.

”Wow, Harry,” she cried. ”That’s...wow.”


”I did it yesterday when Ron and Hermione were here. I just did it while none of you were looking. It’s like
wandless magic has become second nature,” Harry said.

”I’ve noticed that too. Charms today was so easy. I think I could have done it non-verbally too, but that wasn't
our task and far be it from me to show off,” Ginny said.

”And it was almost scary that I defeated three veteran Aurors at the same time in a duel. My biggest concern
was to not hurt them because I’m not sure I’ve quite got a handle on this extra power yet. It never even
occurred to me that I was outnumbered by three of the best dueling wizards in Britain. I just did what I needed
to do and that was it.”

”Harry, don't worry. You know Dumbledore fought off the Aurors too when the DA was uncovered. I think this
bond of ours somehow lets us channel greater magical powers into our spells. Dumbledore knew that too. I
guess that's why he was so powerful. He not only spoke of love, but he believed in its power too.”

”Yeah, and guess I’m becoming a believer too,” he said, leaning over to kiss her. He drew in a hissing breath as
he leaned on his sore shoulder. Harry rotated that shoulder and winced. For all his excitement, he seemed
tense.

”A massage, Love?”

Harry removed his robes and shirt while Ginny stripped off to her bra and knickers. She began to work that bad
shoulder, gently at first, putting on more pressure as he adjusted to her ministrations. ”Ohh that feels
wonderful, Gin,” he groaned as she worked a knot out. She climbed up and straddled the small of his back to
gain a better angle at his neck, which she massaged in ever-increasing circular motions.

”Gin,” Harry began.

”Yes, love.”

”Could I ask you something. It’s kind of important to me,” Harry said.

She stopped massaging him. ”Anything, my love. What is thine heart’s desire?” They had taken to using courtly
language with one another from time to time in their private banter.

”Milady, I find that I am sorely out of shape as thou hast seen, hence thy ministrations. I would beg a boon of
thee: couldst thou find it in thine heart to allow me, a humble and devoted knight, to train with thee and the
Gryffindor team?”

”Good Sir Knight, it would be our pleasure for thee to train with us; however, I must ask that thou dost not
interfere with my methods lest thou find thyself face-to-face with my Bat-Bogey friends.” You know you could
never do that to him, don’t you?

”My beloved lady, I would not presume to be so bold as to impede thy progress with the team by forcing upon
thee my wretched opinions, nor would I presume to bar thy way by flying like a king’s fool.”

”Then yes, good knight. Thou mayest train with the team in order to return thy body to top form.”

”Thou art too kind. I shall remain forever in thy debt. Thy wish shall be my command.” I’ll dedicate the rest of
my life to your heart’s every desire. I love you so much.

She began to massage him again. ”Merlin, that feels good, love,” he moaned. She continued to knead him like
bread dough, Harry groaning as each knot in his aching muscles unraveled. ”That is so good, Gin.” I want you
now, Harry James Potter. She worked his back and shoulders until her hands ached.

”Sorry, Love, but my hands are aching and I have to stop,” she apologised.

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”Then it’s my turn,” he said as she climbed off him. ”You know the drill.”

Ginny lay down on her stomach in Harry’s place. He unhooked her bra and turned the straps aside. He straddled
her, but kept his weight mostly on his lower legs. He began to massage her, hoping that he was mimicking her
technique properly. At first, she winced when he put too much pressure on her, but with a little coaching, he got
the hang of it. ”Not so hard, love. You’re not making mud pies,” she teased. Harry let up a little and she began
to groan. ”That’s it, Harry. That’s...oh my...that’s wonderful.” No wonder she likes to do this. It’s amazing!

As Harry worked her neck and shoulders and continued down her spine, he could feel her relax under his hands.
He stared at her beautiful red hair thrown over her shoulder and her milky white back, flecked with tan freckles.
Her graceful neck screamed for him to kiss it. His libido kicked into overdrive. He leaned down and buried his
bespectacled face in her exposed neck, breathing in the familiar scent of her that drove him mad with desire.
”Ginny, I love you so much,” he breathed into her ear, as he nipped at her sensitive spot right behind it.

”Harry,” Ginny cried. ”Harry, please stop.”

”Ginny, baby, what’s wrong,” he asked, a little hurt, as he helped her roll onto her back.

”I... we can’t tonight,” she said, tears in her eyes.

”Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean...” Harry took her in his arms as though she were a china doll.

”No, no, my sweet Harry. You didn’t hurt me. It’s just that...well, it’s...um...that time of the month,” she said,
averting her eyes.

”Oh Gin, I’m so sorry. I... I didn’t know,” Harry apologised.

”Of course you didn’t know. How could you know if I didn’t tell you,” she said as she placed a warm palm against
his face.

”Um...does it hurt,” Harry asked a little embarrassed at his ignorance.

”No, except for a few muscle cramps, but Madame Pomfrey gave me a potion to take care of that,” she assured
him.
”Can we still snog each other senseless,” he asked coyly.

”That we can do! Let’s get to bed, though,” she said as she rose from the floor. ”It’s more comfortable.”

Harry picked her up and carried her across the room and laid her on the bed as if she were a tiny child. It just
seemed to him that a woman going through what Ginny was going through at that moment should be treated
with kid gloves. It was silly, he knew, but he wanted to do it because he loved her. More than life itself.

They snuggled down into the bedclothes facing one another. Harry held Ginny’s face in his hands and leaned in.
A warm something that began in his chest spread through his entire being as he pressed his lips to hers. It
wasn’t the volcanic fire that accompanied their lovemaking, but a sort of homey feeling. A loving respect for the
beauty he shared his bed with. ”I love you, my Ginny, my heart, my own.”

”I love you too, my sweet, noble Harry. You are my whole world, my every wish,” she declared in a whisper. She
snaked her arms around his neck and drew herself closer to him. She captured his lips in a sweet kiss, full of all
the love and longing for him that filled her heart. Lips parted and tongues entwined, but it wasn’t desperate, just
kind. They fell asleep in each other’s arms and dreamed.

The week passed quickly amid a flurry of lessons, homework, and dueling practice with the DA. Harry had
introduced a few new spells to the trainees and worked with them on strengthening their shields. He had hoped
to be able to teach them how to put up basic wards by Christmas break. Ginny had been swamped with
homework, so Harry stayed out of her way unless she approached him first. By Friday at supper, they could

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barely hold their heads up, so they retreated to their room and collapsed on their bed.

During the weekend, Ginny held tryouts. She needed a new Keeper and a new Seeker. Dennis Creevey made a
fair tryout and became the new Seeker. He could never be as good as Harry, but he had potential. Jessica
Spinnet was by far the best Keeper in the tryouts and made the team. For the rest of the positions, no one could
outstrip those still left from Harry's team.

Harry had been observing from the stands. At the end of tryouts, he asked her what she thought about her
team’s prospects, offering no opinions of his own, as promised.

”I feel pretty good about the team,” Ginny told Harry. ”Both the Keeper and the Seeker work mostly alone and
the rest of the team has already played together. I think we have a good chance to win the Cup.”

”Milady, I harbour no doubt that the Gryffindor team hath a merry chance at the Cup. Nor have I forgotten my
heart’s promise to thee that I would not presume to interfere, but if thou mightest accept, I offer thee my
assistance in the training of thy young Seeker. Then thou mayest work diligently with thy Chasers and thy
Beaters, giving them ample opportunity to hammer Miss Spinnet into a Keeper thou mayest be proud of. After
all, milady, I may not be a student, but I remain forever a Gryffindor,” Harry said in their favourite courtly
demeanor.

”Good Sir Knight, thine offer is bold, yet sensible. I can see that thy sincerest wish is to only aid me and the
team in our quest for the Cup. I accept thine assistance with our young Mr Creevey, for professional teams often
employ separate Seeker and Keeper coaches. Let me be the first to offer thee my favour, Sir Coach,” she said as
she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him passionately.

”And a lovely favour it is,” Harry smiled broadly as he snogged her senseless right there in the Gryffindor box.

Chapter 8: Ball and Quaffle


[View Online] [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Chapter 8 – Ball and Quaffle

The following three weeks passed in a blur. There wasn’t much time for fun and frivolity, what with Auror
training paperwork, dueling practice with the DA, teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Quidditch
training. They’d hardly seen Hermione at all, but when they did, she either had her nose buried in a book, or a
quill in her hand writing desperate teary love letters to Ron or lengthy essays for her professors. Ginny’s
schedule was just as full with Quidditch training and a pile of homework of her own. When Harry wasn’t just
working out to get in shape, he was grooming Dennis Creevey to become the next star Seeker for Gryffindor.

Dennis had a bad habit of wanting to be everything to everyone on the team. He wanted to make Ginny proud
that she had chosen him as the Seeker. He wanted to make Harry proud that he had trained him. He wanted the
Gryffindors to win the Cup. He wanted Colin to be proud of him.

Harry wanted Dennis to pay attention. He blew his coach’s whistle and play stopped. ”Sorry Gin, but I need to
coach my Seeker,” he said to his scowling fiancée.

”Take five, team,” Ginny called. The rest of the team descended to the grassy floor of the pitch while Harry
hovered aloft to rein Dennis in.

”Dennis, you’re too easily distracted,” Harry coached. ”Don’t worry about what the Chasers are doing. The only
thing you need to concern yourself is finding and catching the Snitch.”

”But Harry,” Dennis argued, ”shouldn’t I want to warn the Chasers if a Bludger is coming at them?”

”No. The Beaters’ll defend the Chasers. That’s their job,” Harry explained.

”But...”

”Dennis, the Beaters will cover you when you spot the Snitch and go after it! Now, let’s try again,” Harry

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insisted. He to the ground for Ginny to send everyone up for another go.

Harry led Dennis to his own favourite spot to Snitch-hunt. ”This is an excellent vantage point, Dennis. You can
see the whole pitch from here, and at this height, you stay well clear of the Bludgers... mostly...” Harry said,
pointing to the action below. ”Now watch for the Snitch.”

Dennis watched carefully. ”Um...when I watched you play, sometimes you’d fly around,” Dennis said. ”What
were you doing?

”Any number of things,” Harry replied. ”Usually just looking around or hoping to fake-out the opposing Seeker.”

”How do you do that,” Dennis asked.

”Pretend to spot the Snitch and then act on it. Perhaps we can get in some private practice—just you and
me—and I’ll teach you a few of my trade secrets,” Harry said. ”Now, watch the field. Pay attention.” Ginny had
released the Snitch and it was flitting around Jessica’s middle hoop.

”There it is,” Dennis cried. ”By our middle hoop!”

”Now go get it,” Harry called.

Dennis crouched down low against his broom handle and took off like a shot toward the middle hoop, weaving to
avoid Bludgers and Chasers. Harry gave him a head start and then raced after him. It was a merry chase for
Harry on his Firebolt. Dennis’ Cleansweep was really no match, but he still managed a right head of steam. It
helped that Dennis was relatively small for a fifth-year, so Harry’s greater size provided Dennis a slight
advantage. The Snitch still flitted around the middle hoop where he had first spied it. He reached out his hand
and was about to close his fingers over the Snitch when Harry edged by and snatched it first.

”You have to remember, Dennis, that the opposing Seeker will follow you if he or she notices you’ve seen it,”
Harry warned him. ”But that was some excellent flying. You’re learning to pay attention and that’s half the
battle.”

Ginny’s whistle blew, signaling the end of practice. ”Showers, Gryffindors!”

The team descended in a spiraling pattern to avoid slamming into each other in the air. Each player landed
safely and out of one another’s path. Harry and Ginny landed last and met in a quick kiss before they walked
arm-in-arm to the locker room. ”How did Dennis do up there today,” Ginny asked.

”The real battle for him is focus. It’s like he wants to be everything to everyone,” Harry said.

”Hmm. Sounds like someone else I know...and love,” Ginny said with a smirk.

”Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Harry teased. ”Anyway, with a little more work and maybe a private session or two, I can
mould our young Seeker into mine own image.”

”Right. Harry, when you popped out of the mould, they shattered it. You’re one of a kind,” she growled as she
kissed then end of his nose. ”Now shower, you!” She gave him a little pinch on his side.

”Ouch! Why dost thou abuse me, fair lady?”

”Because thou art a prat. Showers, Potter!” Care to join me?

Showered and dressed in their school uniforms and robes, the Gryffindor team trudged back toward the castle,
followed by Harry and Ginny, Firebolts on their shoulders.

”I’ve got loads of homework to do,” Ginny lamented. ”I maybe be buried in it for life.”

”I know what you mean, love,” Harry agreed. ”I’ve got a stack of Auror evaluations to study. Ministry paperwork
is... much...”

”It’s almost lunchtime. What say you we stow this gear and get some food in us before we think about tackling

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all of that,” Ginny suggested.

”I’m all for that,” Harry agreed. ”Tell you what. I’ll take this stuff up to our room and you go on in and save me a
seat. Deal,” Harry asked.

”Deal,” she replied. ”Hurry back.”

She watched as Harry took the stairs two at a time carrying both their brooms and Ginny’s sports bag. He calls
that out of shape? Her eyes followed his retreating behind until he disappeared into the shadows above, then
turned and entered the Great Hall.

”Damn, Creevey! Potter’s training you personally,” Ginny heard another fifth-year say to Dennis as she passed.
She didn’t slow down to hear the rest. Coach Potter. She just smiled to herself and kept on walking until she
found their usual places at the head end of the table. Hermione wasn’t there yet, so she decided she would wait
for Harry.

Soon, he came bounding up the aisle and slid in next to her. ”Hey, Captain Weasley,” he said, putting his arm
around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze.

”Hey, Coach Potter,” she replied. ”Let’s eat. I’m famished and we have work to do.” They tucked in to a lunch of
hot chicken noodle soup with crusty bread and salad, with mulled cider to wash it all down. When they finished,
they retired to their room to try and get a little work done.

Harry had been anxiously awaiting delivery of their formal attire for the Convention Ball since they ordered
them the previous week. It was to be held on Friday night, two days hence, and the robes and gown hadn’t
arrived yet. By lunchtime, Ginny was at the end of her rope with worry and Harry was fit to be tied with it. ”If
they’re not here by supper tonight, I’m going to raise some hell,” Harry promised her.

Just then, four owls swooped into the Great Hall with two large packages slung between them. They landed on
the table in front of Harry and Ginny.”They’re here,” Ginny squealed excitedly. ”Harry, they’re here!”

”Thank bloody Merlin,” Harry breathed with a sigh of relief. ”That’s a load off!”

Ginny rummaged around in her robes for her ever-present packet of owl treats. She handed them to Harry as he
poured some cider into a dish for them to drink. ”Here you go, mates,” Harry said, feeding them some treats.
The owls hooted their appreciation and flew back out of the Hall. ”We’d better take these upstairs so they don’t
get messy.”

Harry grabbed the packages and Ginny her satchel and they made for the stairs leading to the Defence Against
the Dark Arts classroom and their living quarters. As soon as they were inside, they began to unwrap their
packages. ”They’re magnificent,” Ginny said as she inspected Harry’s new dress robes. They were coal black with
deep green detailing that brought out the emerald of Harry’s eyes and set off Ginny’s flaming red hair. ”You’ll
turn all the witches’ heads.” But I get to bring you home.

”Let’s see that dress then,” Harry said, eyebrows raised. Ginny lifted it out of the box and held up the
emerald-green taffeta gown in front of her body for his approval. ”Wow, Gin! It’s beautiful,” he said, his breath
almost taken away. ”I can’t wait to see you in it.” And out of it.
By the end of classes Friday afternoon, Ginny’s excitement had built to fever pitch. She couldn’t wait to get into
that gorgeous gown for Harry. She arrived back at their room before him and took a quick shower. She removed
her gown from the wardrobe and laid it out across the bed. Then she went to the bureau and took out another
package she had hidden under her clean underclothes.

She opened it, revealing a delicate cream-coloured lace camisole and matching panties. She put them on and
then pulled a pair of jeans and a shirt over them. She picked up her dress, carefully draping it over her arm and
held her shoes in her hand underneath. She grabbed her kit with her free hand and left to meet Hermione in
Gryffindor Tower for the mutual beautification ritual before Harry returned.

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”Gin? Ginny, are you in here,” Harry asked as he closed the door behind him. He guessed she must be with
Hermione getting ready, because there was a wet towel hung over the chair at the table and Ginny’s satchel lay
next to the bed where she left it. ”I’ll just shower then, shall I,” he asked the room.

When he was finished, he tried to beat his unruly raven locks into submission using his brush and a drying
charm, but it still came out the same as always. He shook his head violently, hoping that might help, but it
really didn’t. He pulled on his fresh underclothes, chose an appropriate pair of black trousers and laid his new
dress robes out on the bed. “Not bad, Potter. Not bad at all.”

He felt her presence before she even came into the room. He felt her love and her nervousness through their
bond. As she crossed the room, her taffeta gown rustled as she moved. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath,
and turned around. He felt as though he’d been hit with a Bludger. His Light Goddess stood before him.

Her gown hugged every perfect curve as it gathered at her slender waist and hung luxuriously to the floor. Its
emerald green matched her engagement ring, the matching emerald earrings, and the delicate tiara she wore in
her gracefully upswept hair. Around her neck, she wore the locket he’d given her for her birthday. She looked
perfectly enchanting—exquisite in every way. He felt dizzy for a moment and even wavered a little, but caught
himself on the bedpost. ”Sorry. You’ve taken my breath away, you are so beautiful,” he said.

Ginny stared at the young man who stood before her in his robes of black and green. His eyes glowed bright
green as they conveyed the love she felt radiating toward her in waves. Her hero, her prince, her eternal love.
She approached him and took his hands. ”No, I felt it too. You look so very handsome. I won't be able to take
my eyes off you the entire evening. And when we get back here, I’m going to make love to you,” Ginny said with
a smile as she momentarily lost herself in his soft eyes.

Harry leaned in to kiss this vision of loveliness. Her scent was intoxicating and it was all he could do to restrain
himself from ravishing her on the spot. ”Milady, thy beauty surpasses none other. Take thou mine arm and I
shall escort thee safely to the ball,” he said offering his arm.

”Sir Knight, thou art most gallant,” she smiled and took it. They left for Professor McGonagall's office. Several
younger students stopped and gaped at them. They could have been royalty. When they entered the office, they
found Hermione there waiting anxiously for them. She looked stunning in a warm brown strapless gown that set
off her hair beautifully. The entire effect would match Ron’s ginger hair and fair complexion perfectly.

”I can’t wait to get there,” Hermione said excitedly. ”I haven't seen Ron in three weeks!”

They Flooed to the Ministry and were immediate escorted to one of its many banquet halls where the ball was to
be held. They met up with Neville, who had Hannah on his arm. ”We're making it official today,” he told them,
gazing lovingly at Hannah.

Arthur and Molly had already arrived with Percy, who had asked Fleur to be his date. The hall had been
magically enlarged as most of the Ministry staff and international guests were there. A number of reporters were
also in attendance, both from the Prophet and international press such as the French Magie Aujourd'hui, the
Danish Troldmand og Hekse, and a leading American paper called The Wisconsin Witchcraft Herald. As they
entered the hall, a Ministry herald announced their arrival.

”Mr Neville Longbottom and Miss Hannah Abbott!” The crowd went silent as a page ushered them to their table.

”Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger!” The crowd began to murmur as another page ushered them to
their table.

By this time, every reporter had shifted his or her attention towards the entrance. They all knew who would
enter next. ”Mr Harry Potter and Miss Ginevra Weasley!” The room fell silent as they crossed the floor. Everyone
in the hall seemed stunned for a moment by Ginny's beauty and the glowing love beaming from her and Harry.

Immediately cameras began to flash again as the crowd resumed its buzz of conversation. Kingsley approached
them and escorted them to a table where the prominent international guests were seated and introduced them
to several other Heads of Wizarding communities from abroad.

”I'm so happy you’re here with me,” Harry whispered to Ginny ”I wouldn't be able to do this without you.”

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”Whatever do you mean,” Ginny asked.

”Ever since I returned to the Wizarding world, I had to get used to everyone staring at me. Tonight, you are the
centre of attention.” Ginny held tighter to Harry and sent a short burst of her love through their bond. Harry
breathed deeply as he felt her love embrace him.

The ball started with a dinner, after which Kingsley declared the convention opened and expressed his hopes for
increased co-operation in the Wizarding world. After a while, Neville asked for everyone's attention.

”I have an announcement to make. In the spirit of co-operation, I witnessed the Triwizard Tournament as a
student at Hogwarts,” Neville said. ”In the same spirit, I earlier today accepted an invitation to become the new
Assistant Professor of Herbology at Beauxbatons Academy this coming year. This lovely lady here with me,”
Hannah stood, ”is Miss Hannah Abbott. Before we came here tonight, I asked her to accompany me to France as
Mrs Longbottom. We are happy to announce our engagement.”
Applause broke out all around the hall as the French representative shook their hands, welcoming them to
France.

An American head of state stood to address the assembly. In closing, he asked Harry to come forward. Harry got
up and with Ginny by his side, approached the American wizard. ”Mr Potter. Your deeds here in Britain echo
throughout America. I’d like take this opportunity to express the gratitude of the American Wizarding
community for freeing the world from a great evil. Without your steadfastness and diligent work, this convention
could never have been possible. On a personal note, I also wish to congratulate you and Miss Weasley. The news
of your engagement has also reached America. Therefore, I wish to propose a toast to this lovely couple, and to
Mr Longbottom and Miss Abbott. Congratulations! Cheers!” The American wizard raised his glass and the crowd
answered in kind. He stepped back and applauded and with a nod from Kingsley Harry understood he was
expected to speak.

”It's a great honour to be here tonight and my thanks to you, sir,” Harry said nodding to the American head of
state. ”If there is anything I learned from fighting Tom Riddle, it’s the value of friendship and of love.” Harry
couldn't help taking Ginny's hand and looking at her. ”During the Battle of Hogwarts, it wasn't skill in duel,
mastery of magic, or powerful spells that won the battle; It was friendship and love. I think that’s what this
convention is really about too—building friendships and strengthening relationships between the great Wizarding
communities around the world. I believe in this wholeheartedly and place my I trust in the wise leaders gathered
here and that they will strengthen their friendships and create a strong foundation for peace.”

Harry and Ginny returned to their seats under a round of applause. Following the program of speeches, an
orchestra began to play. Harry turned to Ginny and took her hand.”May I have this dance,” he asked her.

”Of course,” she said and he helped her to stand. She took his arm and he led her to the floor. Harry had never
enjoyed dancing, but this time it felt like floating. Harry had eyes only for Ginny and her scent once again
intoxicated him. He took her in his arms and they began to move in time with the music.

”Are you sure you didn't spike your perfume with a love potion, Ginny,” Harry asked coyly. ”This is all so new
tonight. It’s a new closeness—a new...something...but I love you more tonight than ever before.” Temptation,
thy name is Ginevra.

”No, but I feel it too. It's incredible,” she smiled dreamily.

Despite his wishes, he couldn't dance all evening with only Ginny. He had to dance with several international
guest-witches. Ginny, in her turn, danced with the several high-ranking wizards. When the two sat down to rest,
Kingsley approached them accompanied by a middle-aged wizard holding a clipboard and a quill.

”Harry, Ginny. Let me introduce Mr Douglas Sheldon of the Wisconsin Witchcraft Herald. He’s here all the way
from a small town in the states covering the convention,” Kingsley said.

”Mr Sheldon,” Harry said a little stiffly. Ginny gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. She knew Harry didn’t like to
do interviews.
”Mr Potter, Miss Weasley. Pleased to met you,” Sheldon said, shaking both their hands.

”Mr Sheldon has asked if you would give him a short interview, ten minutes at the most,” Kingsley said with a
look that said, please do it.

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Harry sought Ginny’s opinion with his eyes and she gave him a slight nod indicating that he should.

”All right, but Ginny stays,” Harry agreed.

”No problem, Mr Potter,” Sheldon replied. ”That’s quite all right.”

”Please,” Ginny said gesturing to an empty chair. ”Sit down.” Sheldon sat down and pulled out his list of
questions. It was indeed a short one. He looks honest enough and he’s been very polite. She could see that
Harry was still uncomfortable. Sheldon seemed to notice.

”Mr Sheldon,” Harry began.

”Doug, please. We Cheeseheads don’t hold with a lot of formalities,” he grinned.

”Cheeseheads? What does that mean,” Ginny asked, slightly amused.

”Wisconsin is known as America’s Dairyland. There are several hundred cheese factories all over the state, most
of which are family-owned. We just love our cheese,” he chuckled. Harry couldn’t help but laugh as he got a
mental picture of the people of Wisconsin wandering about with cheese on their heads.

”So Mr Potter,” Doug began.

”Harry, please,” he said.

”Okay, Harry then. This is going to be a human interest piece. We’ve heard all the hype and legend about your
life, but I think you’re just a regular guy in an irregular situation. Is that right?”

”Right in one, Doug,” Harry said letting out a sigh of relief. ”Right in one.”

”Well, let’s get this show on the road so you can get back to the party,” Doug said, taking out his quill. He asked
his questions, taking notes as Harry and Ginny spoke. The interview felt so comfortable, it went on for a good
half hour before Douglas Sheldon took his leave.

”Harry,” he said, extending his hand, ”it’s been a real pleasure. Ginny, thanks.”

”Sure, no problem,” Harry said. ”Enjoy the ball.” Doug rose and headed back toward the press table amid looks
of shock and awe from his colleagues.

”He seemed nice enough,” Ginny said. ”No embarrassing personal questions, no digging for dirt.”

”Yeah, that’s a nice change of pace, isn’t it,” Harry smiled. ”And he even took his own notes, with the quill in his
hand and everything!” The two of them laughed a little, but found themselves caught up in one another’s gaze.
They arose together and returned to the dance floor and held each other as they danced, stealing kisses as the
cameras flashed once more.

While Harry and Ginny talked with the reporter, Ron and Hermione slipped away from the ball and found an
unlocked room just off the main corridor. Ron pulled her into the room and cast Colloportus and Impervious
charms on it. He’d no sooner than turned back toward Hermione that she leapt into his arms and claimed his lips
in a scorching kiss.

At first, Ron had been taken by surprise, but a split-second later, he had her in a crushing embrace and his
tongue dancing around her mouth. ”’Mione,” he mumbled into her mouth. ”How I’ve missed you.” He felt his
stomach flip over as a warmth began to course through his body, filling him with that familiar primal need that
invaded every fibre of his being. ”I love you.”

Hermione had wrapped herself around her man the best she could in a formal gown. She just couldn’t get close

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enough to him. She longed for him every minute of every day, and after three weeks, her desire for him had
once again reached fever pitch. ”I want you now, Ronald Weasley. Right here, right now!” She began to
unfasten his robes.

”But ’Mione,” Ron said, not really protesting. ”Your hair, your makeup.”

”What about it,” she growled as she tore open his shirt and began unfastening his trousers. ”I’m a witch. I can
fix it.”

”It’ll...they’ll...” Ron stammered. ”You...”

”Ronald, shut up and help me out of this damned dress,” Hermione snarled as she continued to undress him.

”You don’t have to tell me twice,” he mumbled as he reached around and began to slowly lower the zipper that
held her gown on her body. He buried his face into her neck and took in her lavender and vanilla scent. It drove
him wild. Her dress dropped to the floor. She was stark naked having worn no knickers. ”You are quite the little
temptress tonight, aren’t you, Love,” he whispered as he ran his hands down her body and latched on to her
hips.

Hermione didn’t answer. She simply picked up her wand and conjured a huge fluffy pouf. Ron’s robes had long
since fallen to the floor with his trousers. She had only to get him out of the rest. She let go of him and climbed
seductively onto them. ”Coming,” she asked.
Not yet. Ron stared at the beauty sitting the pouf before him, one leg drawn up with her arms wrapped around
it. Her hair had been pinned up exposing her elegant neck and soft shoulders. Ron blinked as his head began to
spin. He kicked off his shoes and socks, then slipped off his boxers and crawled onto the pouf with Hermione. He
took her in his arms and cradled her against his chest. He gazed into her cinnamon brown eyes and leaned in,
claiming her lips with his own.

Hermione reached up her free arm and ran it across his broad chest and around his neck. She buried her fingers
in his thick ginger hair and began to moan under his kiss and hot caresses. Her body shuddered under the touch
she’d dreamed about those three lonely work-filled weeks and she began to whimper. ”Ron, please,” she cried
softly.

”Please what, Love,” Ron answered, teasing her as he placed tiny kisses down her neck and across her throat.

”Please take me. I need you to take me now,” she moaned arching in to him the best she could in her current
position. ”It’s been too long. Take me!”

His brain exploded with desire as he tore his lips from her neck lifted her out of his lap onto the pouf. She
adjusted her body to receive his. He positioned himself above her and locked his mesmerising blue eyes on hers.
They had gone cobalt with his passion. ”Ron,” she cried as he filled her. They became lost in their own world. No
Ministry. No ball. No crowd. Just them—Ron and Hermione. Their rhythm, at first frantic like a Baroque
symphony, settled into a romantic concerto of kisses, caresses, loving words of encouragement, and sensation.
”Ron I love you so much.”

”’Mione, love,” he breathed into her neck. ”I can’t hold out much longer.” He began to pick up the pace. ”I love
you so much. You’re so beautiful. I can’t...” His body stiffened as she cried out on the edge of the abyss. ”Oh
gods,” he groaned in release as a wave of ecstasy rolled over them, drowning them in the glow of their intense
love for one another. The abyss welcomed them home.

They lay there in a gentle embrace for only a little while, gazing contentedly into one another’s eyes. Ron kissed
Hermione’s flushed face over and over, stroking her hair. She’s just so beautiful—I can’t get enough of her.

”Ron,” whispered Hermione. ”We should get back.”

”Yeah, I know,” he replied, his voice reluctant. ”They’ll miss us if they haven’t already.”

They shared one last passionate kiss and then arose to dress. Hermione conjured a mirror and with a flick of her
wand, her hair redressed itself. With another flick, her makeup returned to order. Ron helped her back into her
gown. As he finished fastening his robes, she banished the pouf, leaving no evidence of their tryst. Ron released

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the charms on the door and they returned to the ball just in time to join Harry and Ginny in the last dance of
the evening.

The next morning Harry and Ginny awoke in their room at the Burrow. Professor McGonagall had granted
permission for Ginny to stay at the Burrow for the weekend. Following a brief morning snog, the two descended
the stairs to breakfast. Molly sat at the table, the Daily Prophet spread out on the table before her.

”You two...” Molly said, pointing at the paper. ”There's a convention to promote international Wizarding
cooperation, but you make the headlines.”

”What? We didn't do anything,” Harry protested. ”It was Neville who announced his engagement.”

”You didn't do anything? Look for yourselves,” Molly said and turned the paper so they could read it. There was a
big picture of him and Ginny dancing. Ginny looked absolutely stunning in the picture. Below it, the
accompanying article:

”The Brightest Star At the Convention Ball


The convention for International Wizarding Cooperation, hosted by the Ministry of Magic, opened with a ball last
evening. Those in attendance all agree that all activity in the hall came to a halt at the presentation of Mr Harry
Potter and Miss Ginevra Weasley. As they entered, we finally understood the meaning of Albus Dumbledore's
never-ending talk about love. The couple stunned the hall as love radiated from them. Miss Weasley's beauty can
only be compared in grandeur with Mr Potter's courage. Following a truly enchanted evening, there are high
hopes for the negotiations today.”

Next, Molly showed the front page of a special issue of Witch Weekly emblazoned with a picture of Ginny at the
ball. The headline said The Most Beautiful Witch In the Country.

”Well there's something,” Harry grinned his Harry grin. ”This is the first time I agree with Witch Weekly on
anything.” He put his arm around Ginny’s waist and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Ginny smiled. ”Thank you, Harry. But don't those reporters have any news to report?”

”They did. You are the news to them,” Molly said. ”Here, have some breakfast. What’s happening at school?”
Molly Weasley could change direction faster than the Golden Snitch at the Quidditch World Cup.

”Dumbledore's Army have been interviewed, so I'll keep working with them, while I try to schedule someone
from the Ministry to work with us on theory. And Ginny's first Quidditch match is coming up in a couple of
weeks.”

”Well then dears, focus on that and don't mind the press. Lee Jordan will take care of that,” she advised. ”Tea?”

On Monday afternoon, Harry met with the Auror trainees from the DA again. ”I have the evaluations from
everyone’s interviews and tests here,” Harry said, waving a packet of parchment. ”As you are aware by now,
they put us through the actual Auror exam. Overall, we scored high on the practical tests, but our scores were
weak on the theory. However, both Head Auror Robards and Minister Shacklebolt are impressed with our work
and report that we have exceeded their expectations.” There was a satisfied buzz among the trainees.

Since we are so lacking in the theoretical aspects of Ministry structure and Auror Office mandate—and when I
say we, I include myself—I’ve petitioned Head Auror Robards and Minister Shacklebolt to send us an instructor
from the Ministry to teach us. But until I get an answer, we’ll just continue drilling and dueling. Today, though,
we’re going to try something new—Occlumency and Legilimency.

”What is Occlu...Legi...what are those exactly,” Susan asked.

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”Legilimency is the act of entering the mind of another person to gain information. Occlumency is defense
against attempted Legilimency. Now, I must tell you I have never taught any of this, personally, but my teacher
for these disciplines was Professor Snape, and he was a master of both. So was Tom Riddle—Voldemort.” The
group winced slightly at the mention of that name.

”I had to practice these disciplines in order to keep Riddle out of my head, but also to find out about his own
plans and movements. For this exercise, you’ll team up. One of you must attempt to enter the other's mind. The
other must try to discipline his or her mind, clearing it and closing it to keep the partner out.” Fifteen minutes
later, Harry realised this wasn't working. No one was able to use Legilimency, and for that reason, it was
impossible to practice Occlumency. He decided he’d have to do this himself, at least until the others caught on.

”All right. You have made a great effort for the first time, and this takes time to learn and even longer to
master. I will perform Legilimency on each one of you and you will shut me out.” Harry said. ”While you wait
your turn, practice dueling with those new spells we learned last week.”

Harry worked them one by one until finally, it was Cho’s turn. He went into it with some trepidation because of
his failed relationship with her. He could tell she was feeling a bit awkward herself, so he encouraged her to
control her emotions and close her mind.

”Legilimens” Harry said and pointed his wand at her. He met no resistance as he entered her mind. ”Cho, fight
me. Shut me out. Control your emotions,” Harry told her.

As he drew images and feelings from her about their crush, it embarrassed him. Cho completely lost control as
images of Cedric lying dead emerged. When Harry's and Cho's first kiss played in her mind, Harry stopped.

”I'm sorry, Cho, but the only way to learn this is the hard way. If I had been your enemy, you would have been
putty in my hands at this point. I'm really sorry.”

”No Harry, don't be sorry. You’re right. I need to control this if I'm ever going to pass the test. It's just...” She
started to cry. ”I thought I was over the loss of Cedric and don't misunderstand me, but I thought I was over
you, too. I don't have those feelings for you anymore, but I think you just remind me of Cedric,” she sobbed.

”Cho, do you know what happened to Cedric,” Harry asked her sympathetically.

”I know that he was murdered with the killing curse on Voldemort's orders,” she replied shakily, wiping her
eyes.

”I think I can help you, but I have to do something first,” Harry said. ”I'll try to let you know at supper.” At the
end of class, Harry dismissed the DA and made a bee-line for Professor McGonagall’s office. ”Professor,” Harry
said as he stepped into her office. ”Could I have a word?”

”Certainly, Mr Potter. What can I do for you,” she replied over her square frames.
He explained what had happened during the Auror training class with Cho and asked her permission to use her
office for about an hour. Professor McGonagall considered Harry’s request and could think of no reason not to
allow it. Having secured permission, he hurried off to his and Ginny’s room.

”Hi, you look troubled,” Ginny said, as she rose to give him a kiss.”You okay?”

”Yes, I’m fine, but I started practice in Legilimency and Occlumency today. It's going to take time, and in order to
have them trained, I had used Legilimency all afternoon on all of them. It was exhausting,” He told her as he ran
his hands through his hair.

”I can imagine,” she nodded, ”but what’s the problem?”

”It's necessary to master both disciplines to become an Auror. Ginny, there's something I need to do...for Cho.”

Ginny glared at him. ”What,” she asked sharply ”You've been in Cho Chang's mind?”

”And in Seamus', and Lavender's, and Susan’s—the lot. But listen,” he said, sending his love through their
connection, calming Ginny down.

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”Cho has mourned Cedric, but working with me is a daily reminder of his death. She needs to let go and move
on.”

Ginny’s breathing evened as she calmed down. ”So what are you going to do to help her?”

”I want to take her into the Pensieve and show her what happened the night Cedric died. She needs to see, and
I need you there by my side to face it again. Professor McGonagall has already approved it, so will you please,”
he asked her hopefully. ”I can’t do this without you there.”

Ginny nodded and took Harry’s hand. ”Of course I will. I'm sorry I overreacted.”

”There's nothing to forgive, love. Neither the Pensieve nor Legilimency are anything like our connection. You’ll
understand when the time comes...and this really has nothing to do with Cho. I'd do the same for any one of the
others.”

”I know you would,” she replied softly, reaching up to place a warm hand on his face. He drew her into a tight
embrace and buried his face in her hair, breathing in her intoxicating scent.

”I love you, my sweet Ginny,” he whispered as he took her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly, pouring all
of his love into it. She responded and a warm tidal wave broke over them as they stood there holding one
another sending their deep love for one another through their bond. I can’t live without you.

They didn’t know how long they had stood there like that, but when they came to themselves again, they
realised it was time for supper. When they entered the Great Hall, they stopped by the Ravenclaw table to have
a word with Cho. She still looked weepy and shaken from the events of the afternoon.

”Cho, I need you to come to Professor McGonagall's office after dinner,” Harry said, holding fast to Ginny’s
hand.

Ginny gave his hand a gentle squeeze as she sent a shot of her love and support to him. He’s afraid. I can feel
his doubt. He doesn’t want to revisit that awful night. Be strong for him, Gin. He’s counting on you.

”Of course, Harry,” Cho replied a bit raggedly. ”Just let me know when you’re ready.” She turned sad eyes to the
plate in front of her. It looked as though she hadn’t touched a bite of food, instead just moving it around on her
plate until it was all jumbled together like a casserole.

”We’ll signal you as soon as we’ve finished eating,” Ginny said. ”Just watch for us to get up and leave, then
follow a minute or two later. We’ll be by the gargoyle waiting for you. Is that okay, Harry?”

”Works for me, and it won’t arouse suspicion or even curiosity,” Harry agreed.

”All right then,” Cho said, staring back down at her plate.

Harry and Ginny turned back to the Gryffindor table just as the Munchkins arrived with their new friend, Joseph,
in tow. ”Harry! Ginny,” Emma, Erica, and Patricia cried as they ran to greet their friends. Joseph brought up the
rear. ”’Ello ’Arry, ’ello Miss Ginny,” he said in his signature Cockney.

”Hey, Munchkins! Hey, Joseph,” Harry replied brightly, tousling his hair. ”What’s new in Firstieland?”

The girls began to giggle while Joseph blushed. Erica spoke up. ”We saw your pictures in the Daily Prophet and
on the cover of Witch Weekly,” Erica said with a big smile. ”You looked so beautiful, Ginny, and Harry, you
looked so handsome!”

”Just like Cinderella and Prince Charming,” Patricia added. ”Um...were Hermione and Ron at the ball too?”

”Yes, they were,” Ginny answered. ”She looked stunning. She had her hair all pinned up and everything. Ron
looked quite dashing in his dress robes.”

Emma leaned in to Ginny’s ear as if to tell her a secret. ”Joseph is carrying your picture from Witch Weekly in
his robes. He thinks you’re beautiful.”

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”We mustn’t tell Harry, then,” Ginny said conspiratorially as she stole a glance at Joseph. ”He might be jealous.”
Emma’s face fell a little. ”What is it, love? What’s wrong,” Ginny asked her little friend.

Emma’s eyes began to water and her bottom lip began to tremble. Harry happened to notice and took her little
hand and pulled her to him. ”What’s the matter, princess? Tell us.”

Emma kept her eyes firmly on her feet. ”It’s just that...that...” she couldn’t finish because she began to cry.
Harry looked at Ginny as if to ask if she knew what Emma could be crying about.
Ginny helped Harry comfort a sobbing Emma. ”Joseph’s carrying the picture of me from Witch Weekly in his
robes,” Ginny whispered.

”He has fine taste in women, then,” Harry smiled. Emma sobbed harder. ”Don’t cry, Em. It can’t be that...can
it?”

”Emma, do you fancy Joseph,” Ginny asked only loud enough for her and Harry to hear. She looked up at the
other three. They were busy eating and chattering away about their Potions homework. Emma nodded into
Harry’s chest and began to sob again.

”Does he know you fancy him,” Harry asked. ”Did you tell him?”

Emma shook her head, her face still hidden in Harry’s chest.

”Then you should tell him.”

Emma looked up at Harry, eyes wide with horror. ”I…I couldn’t!”

”Why not? He’ll never know if you don’t tell him,” Harry countered. The voice of experience.

”But he might laugh at me. I’d die,” she whimpered.

”Then write him a note to slip into his book bag when he isn’t looking,” Ginny suggested.

”Or she could take a leaf out of your book and...” Harry began, but Ginny cut across him.

”Don’t you dare, Harry James Potter,” Ginny said in mock horror, a grin spreading across her face. ”She’d be
mortified,” she added in a whisper.

”Do you think it’ll work,” Emma asked, wiping her eyes.

”It’s better than nothing at all. Then he’ll know how you feel and you’ll know how he feels,” Ginny assured her.
If the little git mans up and reads it.

”Thanks, Ginny. Thanks, Harry. I’ll try that,” Emma said, still a little weepy.

”Now, Miss Emma Prewett. Chin up and give us a smile,” Harry said, wiping the last of her tears away. Emma
smiled weakly. ”That’s more like it!” Emma went around the table to sit with her sister and her two friends to
eat.

Harry and Ginny sat at the table gazing into each other’s eyes. Harry held her hand to his lips and kept kissing it
as he admired her radiance. She gazed transfixed at the way his face shined as he watched her. His gorgeous
green eyes glittered like gems in the light from the floating candles above. The world had once again melted
away and there was only the two of them under the artificial night sky portrayed on the ceiling.

Finally, Ginny broke the reverie. ”We really should get this over with, Harry. It’s getting late.”

”I know. I’m just a little...I don’t know...worried,” he said sadly.

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”I know you are. I can feel it—I can feel how much just thinking about that night hurts you,” she said, sending
calm feelings through their bond. ”I’ll be right there, I promise.”

”I couldn’t do this without you, Gin. You’re my lifeline.” They stood up to leave. Ginny caught Cho’s eye and
gave her a slight nod. Harry took Ginny’s hand and they began to walk back down the aisle toward the Entrance
Hall. Just as they turned to climb the great stone staircase, Cho rose to follow.

Harry and Ginny were waiting at the gargoyle when Cho arrived. Harry gave the password, ”Tartan,” and the
gargoyle jumped aside allowing them to pass. The Pensieve was already prepared and waiting for them on the
headmistress’ desk.

”Cho,” Harry began, ”this might be difficult—this will be difficult, but I want you to see the events leading up to
Cedric's death.” He put his wand to his temple, extracting a fine silvery thread and then dropped it into the
stone vessel on the desk. It shimmered and swirled inside it. ”We’ll go into this Pensieve together into my
memory.”

”Does that hurt,” Cho asked with wide eyes.

”No, it doesn’t hurt,” Harry replied trying to keep his courage up. This is harder than I thought.

”Go on then,” Cho said as her hands began to shake.

”I think you need to see this. I have also asked Ginny to join us, simply because I need her to help me face this
again. We will see Tom Riddle return to life—it’s one of my worse memories—but I think it will give you what
you need to finally get on with your life,” Harry told her.

Cho nodded and followed him into the Pensieve. They landed on their feet as they watched the horrors of that
night in the graveyard unfold. They watched as Harry and Cedric appeared in the cemetery with the Triwizard
Cup clutched between them. They heard the snakelike voice of Voldemort give Wormtail the order to kill the
spare, followed by a flash of green light.. Cho began to shake and sob as Cedric’s lifeless body fell to the ground
with a dull thud, his soft eyes staring, but seeing nothing.

The scene shifted. A bleeding Harry sat pinned to Tom Riddle Sr’s gravestone as Wormtail severed his own hand
and dropped it into a giant cauldron. The liquid in the cauldron changed colour until it became blinding white. A
formless hominid mass erupted from it and began to take on the shape o a man—a man with a snake’s face and
glowering red snake’s eyes.

The scene shifted again. Harry and Cho watched as Harry and Voldemort were locked in a battle of wills. A ball
of light traveled between their wands, moving slowly toward Voldemort. All at once, ghostly figures seemed to
climb out of Voldemort’s wand—Cedric, an old man, a woman, a red-haired woman, and finally a man with
messy hair and glasses who bore an uncanny resemblance to Harry. Cho thought they must be his parents. They
stood beside the memory Harry and appeared to be talking to him. Each of the ghostly figures seemed to be
talking to him as Harry held off Voldemort while his Death Eaters hung back.

The scene shifted yet again. They watched as Harry pelted through the graveyard, dodging spell after spell,
Voldemort screaming for his Death Eaters to leave Harry to him. Cho watched in horror as the memory Harry
threw himself onto Cedric’s body and summoned the Triwizard Cup. The memory dissipated and Cho found
herself back in McGonagall’s office.

Harry lay on the floor, shivering in a cold sweat, his face grey as death. Ginny could feel Harry’s pain and
anguish. Her heart broke for him as her tears flowed like tiny rivers down her face. ”Ginny,” Harry moaned,
anguish clouding his handsome features. ”Please ho-hold me. S-so co-cold. C-can’t feel. I...I need your lo-love.”
She pulled his upper body into her lap and cradled him in her arms as a mother would a sick or frightened child.
She held his icy hand in hers and willed him all her love in great bursts and waves, placing comforting kisses on
his tormented brow until the colour returned to his pallid skin, while Cho looked on in wonder. The air around
them crackled, charged with some unknown power. As soon as strength returned to his body, Harry sat up and
took Ginny in a loving embrace, further comforted by her scent. ”I couldn’t have survived that without you.”

”He didn't stand a chance, did he,” Cho sobbed.

”No. He was just murdered in cold blood,” Harry replied regretfully.

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”In my mind, I’ve asked myself over and over if he could have made it, but there was no escape for him. I see
that now,” Cho said as if explaining it to herself. ”Thank you, Harry. I can only imagine what this must have
been like for you. Now that I understand what happened that night, I can let go of Cedric and let him rest,” she
said, brightening a little.”In class, I can focus on the good times we've had. The Quidditch games, training with
the DA, and, excuse me for saying this Ginny, but...our first kiss. I’ll be able to concentrate.” Harry felt gratified
that this exercise in terror had been worth it, at least for Cho.

”It's all right,” Ginny said. ”You should remember it as one of those good times. If you both decide to become
Aurors, you’ll work in the same office. I wouldn't want an old crush to make that awkward for either of you.”

”Thanks again, Harry,” Cho said as she stepped toward the door. ”And Ginny...look after him, okay?.” She
opened the door and was gone.

Harry extracted his memory from the Pensieve with his wand and placed it back into his mind, leaving the
Pensieve on the desk where he found it. Hand-in-hand, he and Ginny left the office quietly. They strolled to
their quarters in silence, both too tired to speak another word. Harry gave the password and the door clicked
open. They stepped inside, Harry started a fire with a wave of him hand, and they made ready for bed. They
nestled wearily under the covers, falling asleep in one another’s arms.

At breakfast on Monday, Kreacher Apparated with a letter for Harry. ”Master's Muggle cousin wanted you to
have this. As Kreacher is commanded by Master, he delivers it.” Kreacher turned to Ginny and bowed ”I am
most pleased to meet Mistress Ginny.”

”Kreacher, we have met before.”

”Certainly, Mistress. Kreacher wouldn't forget, but Mistress Ginny is Master's fiancée and Kreacher's new
mistress.”
”Kreacher, could you please call me Ginny?”

”Kreacher, I would rather like you to call us Harry and Ginny instead of Master and Mistress.”

”As you wish, Mast... Harry.” Kreacher had a hard time not using the title. Harry glanced at Hermione, who gave
him an approving smile.

”I'm not ordering you Kreacher, but it would please us,” Harry said.

”Yes Harry...and Ginny” Kreacher said, bowing. He Disapparated with a loud crack!

Harry opened the letter and read:

”Harry,
I can't believe it's almost two months ago we met. A lot has happened. First I must tell you I have moved out. My
new address is last in this letter. It's been a long time coming, but when I returned from your birthday, Dad
freaked out. I told him I wished Hermione had turned him into a toad and moved out that night. Mum has of
course visited me, but not Dad. He's becoming more and more paranoid and blames everything bad in the world
on your kind, at least that's what Mum tells me. He is totally unfair but he doesn't care. Enough about my dad, as
you probably don't care anyway.
Happier news is that I have met a girl. We met the day after your birthday. Her name is Penny and we met at
the supermarket, near my new place. Pathetic, isn't it? I was there to get the latest boxing magazines, and this
cute girl was there browsing them. I asked if she was interested in boxing. She said the liked a lot of sports, but
her dad was particularly interested in boxing. Anyway we started to talk about sports and then we went to a
coffee shop and continued talking about almost everything. Before I knew it, it was three hours later.
We’ve been dating ever since. I’ve met some of her friends and she has asked me about mine. Come to think of
it, I don't really have any friends. I told her I used to be this complete prat. In fact the only time I’ve felt halfway
decent lately, except for being with Penny, was at your party. I would really like to see you again, and you could
meet Penny. It would be great to introduce her to someone I know for once. Of course, she doesn't know about
your kind. She's a year younger than me and studying to become a sports reporter. I have weekends off, so I’ll
leave it up to you to set a date if you would like to meet me and Penny.
Dudley”

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”A girlfriend? I’ve got to meet her.” Harry said. ”Do you think it would be possible to invite them to the
Quidditch game?”

Ginny looked at him.”They don't usually invite Muggles, do they?”

”No, but Dudley already knows about us, and maybe it's all right for his girlfriend to know about us too. After all,
he agreed to stay in hiding last year. Maybe we can pull some strings.”

”You really care about Dudley, don’t you?”


”I didn't used to, but he has changed and he's the only family I have. Well, I don't really count Uncle Vernon or
Aunt Petunia. We will probably never be close, but it would be nice to see him from time to time. I think I'll
write Kingsley and find out if we can figure something out.” Harry scribbled out a quick answer and called for
Kreacher once again. When the old house-elf appeared, Harry handed him the reply to take to Dudley.

Kingsley owled Harry the next day saying that arrangements would be made for his cousin and his girlfriend to
attend the Quidditch match at Hogwarts. Harry scratched out the invitation to Dudley and sent it by school owl,
then hurried off to class with the DA.

Cho had gained a new confidence as she continued to train. Her dueling skills sharpened and she was the first in
the class to actually enter another’s mind. Kingsley sent Percy Weasley to teach Ministry Organisation. Percy’s
lectures were only slightly less-boring than Professor Binns’ History of Magic lessons, but they all paid attention
and took notes because they had to learn it to pass the Auror exam.

Ginny drilled the team five times per week, co-coordinating the Chasers with the Beaters and giving Jessica a
real workout. Harry worried that she would wear herself out between the grueling training sessions and piles of
homework.

”Gin, you’re going to kill yourself. You’re working five sessions a week with the team. On top of that, your
homework load is staggering. I’m worried about you, love,” Harry said one evening in their room.

’Harry, I’m fine. I’m keeping up...”

”Only just. You’re not getting enough rest...”

”I want that Cup, Harry, and it’ll take an act of Nature to stop me,” she said determinedly.

”That’s what I’m afraid of,” Harry replied darkly.

Ginny would not relent and Harry gave up arguing with her. He just kept sending her bursts of love and positive
energy through their bond when she looked as though she might falter. He continued to work with Dennis,
releasing a Snitch and then racing Dennis to catch it. Finally, during the last practice before their first game,
Dennis beat Harry to it fair and square. Harry decided it was time to teach Dennis the Wronski Feint.

”Well done, Dennis! You finally beat me to it,” Harry called in congratulations.

”Only once, though, and you have been using one of the school's Cleansweeps,” Dennis said.

”That’s beside the point. No one else will be flying a Firebolt, but even then, you nearly outstripped me. You’ll
make an excellent Seeker.”

”Thanks, Harry. Say, could you teach me that diving thing you do—where you nearly crash and then pull up
really quickly,” Dennis asked hopefully.

“That’s called the Wronski Feint. Now, when you see the Snitch...” Harry went on to explain how the Wronski
Feint worked and then demonstrated. ”The trick is all in knowing when to pull up. We’ll start with you pulling up
at twenty-five feet and then go from there. Deal?”

Dennis would have to gain some upper body strength to master this manoeuver, so he wouldn’t be using it in
the first game, but Harry assured him he’d do well without it. ”Don't worry. Ravenclaw has a new Seeker, too,
but you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ll be brilliant!”

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The rest of the practice, Harry watched Ginny and the rest of the team co-ordinate their flying and create a list
of plays. They looked strong and Ginny flew so fast. She was a brilliant Chaser, but with her flying skills, she
could be a great Seeker too.

On the day of the match, Harry gave Ginny a firm kiss for luck as she left the breakfast table to gather the
team. Harry checked the clock. It was still two hours until the match and half an hour before Penny would
arrive. They agreed it was better that Harry arrived before Penny as it might come as a bit of a shock to her if
he just popped in out of thin air. Harry left the grounds to Apparate to Dudley's flat. When he arrived, Dudley
was lying in his bed watching TV. He jumped when Harry Apparated in front of him.

”Hey there Harry! You scared me! Anyway, it’s good to see you again.”

”Good to see you too, Dud.”

”So, what’s going on? You sounded rather shady when you said you had a great plan. And where’s Ginny,”
Dudley asked.

”You'll see. I'll tell you all about it when that girlfriend of yours arrives,” Harry smiled.

”What have you've been up to so far,” Dudley asked.

”I'm leading a training program for future Aurors,” Harry said. ”Dark wizard catchers. And of course the best of
them all. I proposed to Ginny. What about you?”

”Really? You're getting married? Congratulations, Harry! Me, I didn't get around to study last year, so I'm
working on getting my grades up so I might get into police training. Muggle bad guys catchers,” Dudley grinned.
They continued talking and soon there was a knock at the door. ”Wait here, Harry.”

Dudley answered the door. Harry heard Dudley telling Penny he had a surprise for her. ”I want you to meet my
cousin. He made the plans for today but he said he didn't want to say anything before you got here,” Harry
heard him say. Dudley brought Penny into his only room from the small hallway. She was, as Dudley had
written, quite cute.

Harry stretched out his hand. ”Hello. I'm Harry Potter,” he greeted her.

”Hello, I'm Penny Taylor. It's nice to finally meet the only person Dudley ever really talks about.”

Harry shot a surprised look at Dudley. ”Really?”

”Yes, the two of you must be close, but he told me you attend a school in another part of the country.”

”Scotland, actually. I was raised by Dudley's parents after mine were killed.”

”Oh no,” Penny said sympathetically. ”I'm so sorry.”

Harry found it very strange and a bit refreshing to talk with someone who didn't knew everything about his past.
”It's all right.”

Penny changed the subject. ”Dudley tells me you have a surprise for us today.”

”Yeah, you could say that. He told me you want to be a sports reporter. I was planning on taking you to a match
and after that, dinner.”

”Lovely,” Penny said. ”Are we waiting for someone else?”

”No, we'll be meeting my friends at the match,” Harry said ”And my fiancée is captain of the team we are
cheering for...” Harry paused and thought about how he would go on. ”... and I can guarantee it will be the first
time you’ve ever seen this sport.”

”Now I’m curious,” Penny said.

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”We're going to a Quidditch match.”

Penny looked at Harry and then at Dudley. ”Never heard of it.” she said thoughtfully.

”It's the greatest sport there is. Imagine a seven-person team: One Keeper, three Chasers, two Beaters and a
Seeker. Chasers try to score, the Keeper protects the goal, and Beaters protect their team. The Seeker tries to
catch the Snitch.” Both Dudley and Penny listened, trying to memorize.

”I'll tell you all you need to know, because it's really fast and intense. ” Harry said getting really excited about
the match. ”You know, the fastest brooms accelerate from 0 to 100 in less than...”

”Whatdidyousay? Brooms,” Penny asked incredulously.

Harry looked at Dudley and they seemed to think the same thing. No going back now. ”Yes, didn't I mention?
Every team member flies on a broom. To score goals, the Chasers pass the Quaffle and throw it through any of
three rings. It’s sort of like a football. The Beaters mind the Bludgers by whacking them out of the way with
small clubs. Bludgers are really nasty charmed iron balls about the size of Cricket balls.”

”All right. Flying on brooms, charmed balls,” Penny laughed ”Dudley, one of the things I fell for was your sense
of humour. I already like Harry too, trying to pull a prank right away.”

”Penny,” Dudley said seriously. ”He’s not joking. Well, I’ve never seen Quidditch, but he's not joking, right
Harry?”

Penny was still convinced it was a prank and mounted a broom she found in a corner of the room.

”So you mean this will fly? Then show me,” she teased.

”You could make it fly all right, but compared to my Firebolt, I wouldn't really call it flying.” Harry drew his
wand. ”Wingardium Leviosa!”

The broom lifted off the ground and hovered. Penny screamed as Harry moved her carefully around the room
and then gently set her back down. She was speechless.”Wha-wha-what,” she said.

”Penny, it's all right,” Dudley assured her. Harry’s a wizard.”

”And Quidditch is the most popular sport among wizards. Trust me, you'll love it! I have a special permit from
the Minister for Magic himself to bring you along. We are wearing yellow and red and will cheer for Gryffindor,”
Harry said, waving his wand to conjure two Gryffindor mufflers.

”A wizard,” Penny asked draping her muffler around her neck.

”Yes, I'll tell you all about it, but we need to go. Dudley, you know the drill. Hang on tight and relax.”

”Hold on? What...” Penny said.

Harry held Dudley and Penny and spun. They emerged outside Hogwarts where Professor McGonagall stood
waiting for them. ”Welcome to Hogwarts,” she said cheerfully.

”Dudley, Penny, this is Professor Minerva McGonagall. She’s the Headmistress here at Hogwarts,” Harry said.

Dudley and Penny looked confused, for all they saw was a dilapidated crumbling ruin and a big sign warning
them not to enter. Penny also realised she had a book to read. Professor McGonagall waved her wand at both of
them and both of them saw the ruin turn into a castle, unlike any other they’d ever seen.

”Where are we,” Penny said.

”Scotland. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My fiancée's house team, Gryffindor, is playing against
Ravenclaw, another house in the school.”

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”You really are a wizard? We're not even in London anymore? You...brought us here,” Penny tried to collect her
thoughts ”And that ruin is gone. I... did you know about this Dudley?”

”I know Harry is a wizard, I knew he went to this school, but I've never been here,” Dudley replied.

”Come on,” Harry urged. ”My friends are already at the Quidditch pitch saving seats for us.”

As they walked towards the Quidditch pitch, Harry explained all about the game again, and Penny's genuine
interest in sports really showed. Penny shivered with anticipation as she first laid eyes on the Quidditch pitch
with its six towering rings and the spectator stands that looked like giant medieval siege towers decked out in
colourful banners. Harry led them to the Gryffindor section and met up with Ron, Hermione, and the elder
Weasleys.

”Ron,” Harry shouted, hugging his best friend. Molly quickly gave Harry a bone-crushing hug and Arthur shook
his hand. ”All right, everyone. You've all met Dudley, but this is his girlfriend, Penny. Kingsley gave me
permission to bring them here.” Harry turned to Penny. ”These are my best friends, Ron and Hermione, and this
is Molly and Arthur Weasley, Ginny’s and Ron's parents.

Molly gave them one of her signature warm smiles.” Are you all right dear,” she asked.

”It's a lot to take in, but this is really exciting,” Penny replied exuberantly.

”Really, Quidditch is thrilling, but as I watch, I find myself wondering how a Muggle aeroplane stays airbourne,”
Arthur said. Molly gave her husband a sharp look.

”Mr Weasley is very interested in Muggles—non-magical folk—and it makes Mrs Weasley a little crazy,” Harry
whispered to Penny and Dudley.

”Hush,” Molly said. ”It's time for the teams to take the field. I don't want to miss my only daughter's first
presentation as captain of the team.”

The Gryffindor team flew over the pitch in a V-formation, with Ginny at the centre. To show off her speed on her
Firebolt, she broke away and flew so fast and close to the audience. They ducked, even though they really didn’t
need to. ”Ginny,” they all cheered as she passed them.

The game announcer presented the team, Ginny last. ”Flying a Firebolt, the captain of the Gryffindor team and
Central Chaser...Ginny Weasley!”

The Gryffindor section roared and began to sing Weasley is Our Queen, a new version of the familiar song,
Weasley is Our King, first sang for Ron three years before. By now, Dudley and Penny were captivated. Following
presentation of the Ravenclaw team, Madame Hooch released the balls and blew her whistle to start the match.
The Snitch disappeared immediately. Ginny caught the Quaffle and raced toward the Ravenclaw goal. Peakes
whacked a Bludger perfectly towards the them as Ginny fired the Quaffle past the Keeper through the left ring.
The game announcer called, ”10-0 to Gryffindor!”

Only twenty minutes into the game, the score stood at 90-0. Ginny's team flew faster and with much more
co-ordination than the Ravenclaw team. Molly watched nervously every time a Bludger screamed too close to
Ginny or as she fought for control of the Quaffle. There were close calls, but Ginny was too fast and too skilled
to get into any serious trouble. Ten minutes later, the stood at 140-0. The Gryffindor section went wild,
especially after one of the Gryffindor beaters crashed into the goal post in a desperate act making a save. He fell
to the ground, knocked out.

”Oh my gosh,” Penny shouted. ”Will he be okay?”


”No problem. He'll be up in no time,” Harry said.

”Doesn't anyone get seriously injured,” Dudley asked.

”Not usually. A few broken bones, a cracked skull, nothing serious. Madam Pomfrey fixes that kind of thing in a
heartbeat,” Harry replied matter-of-factly.

”Unless Lockhart’s around,” Ron snorted. ”Harry broke his right arm once, and Lockhart tried to fix it with some

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nutty jinx that removed every bone in Harry’s arm. He spent a very long night in the hospital wing.” Penny and
Dudley looked at each other in mild horror.

”Don't remind me,” Harry groaned. ”That potion Madame Pomfrey made me drink to re-grow my bones tasted
awful! Skele-Gro has got to be the most-disgusting stuff on earth.” Harry focused on the game again. ”Anything
can still happen,” Harry yelled to Penny and Dudley ”If Ravenclaw catches the Snitch now they’ll win by a score
of 150-140.

Jessica Spinnet had not been really tested in this game. Ginny and her Chasers didn't allow Ravenclaw to attack.
Ginny’s co-ordination drills paid off as the accuracy of the Beaters made it necessary for the Ravenclaw team to
busy themselves dodging Bludgers, rather than going for the Quaffle. Suddenly, Dennis dropped into a dive,
followed by Ravenclaw Seeker.

”Dennis is faking. He hasn't seen the Snitch down there,” Harry said.

”How do you know,” Penny asked.

”Because it's right over Jessica's left ring,” Harry said, discreetly pointing it out.

The others looked and sure enough, Harry was right. The Snitch hovered around the very ring Harry pointed
out. The Ravenclaw Seeker passed Dennis and continued diving. Then Dennis immediately pulled up and shot off
against Jessica. The Ravenclaw seeker was twenty meters behind him, and in an instant, Dennis made an easy
catch in his first game.

”Gryffindor wins 290-0,” the game announcer shouted, while Gryffindor section exploded in red and gold.
Fireworks depicting the Gryffindor lion filled the sky over the pitch as the team flew celebratory victory laps.

”Come on, let's go down and meet them when they land,” Ron shouted. They made their way down to the pitch.

Ginny landed and threw herself into Harry’s arms, knocking him down and peppering his grinning face with
kisses. She was sweaty, her forehead bruised, her hair in a mess, and her smile breathtaking. I’ve never seen
her more beautiful.

”Hey, Coach,” she said breathlessly.

”Hey, Captain,” Harry replied as he kissed her soundly.

”All right get a room, you two. There are brothers and parents here,” Hermione said with mock disgust.
Harry and Ginny got up and he introduced their guests. ”You remember Dudley. And this is his girlfriend,
Penny,” he told her.

”Hello, Penny. It’s nice to meet you. How are you, Dudley,” Ginny said, still breathless.

Ginny hugged all of them, but Molly didn't want to let go. ”I'm so proud of you, you are so good, and I'm so very
happy you didn't end up in the hospital wing,” she gushed.

”Miss Weasley,” someone called. Ginny broke away from her mother.

”Yes,” Ginny said and turned around.

”I'm Gwenog Jones...of the Holyhead Harpies.”

Ginny screamed. Holyhead was her favourite Quidditch team.

”Yes. Pleased to meet you too, Miss Weasley. I was very impressed by your team, but even more by you. Few
Chasers are able to match the speed of a Seeker.”

”You watched us play?”

”Yes. Have you ever thought about playing professionally,” Gwenog asked.

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”I've only dreamed about it all my life, but I never thought I'd ever be good enough,” Ginny admitted.

”Miss Weasley, if you continue to play at this level, you’ll have your choice among many offers. Come and
practice with us anytime you have a chance. You could meet the team and get an idea what professional
Quidditch is about,” Gwenog said as she handed Ginny a parchment.

”I'm going to practice with the Harpies,” Ginny cried after Gwenog left, throwing herself at Harry again, hugging
him for all she was worth.

”Come on, I'm hungry,” Ron muttered.

”What else is new,” Hermione teased as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Half an hour later, they all sat around a huge table at the Three Broomsticks talking about the match and
Ginny's opportunity to practice with the Holyhead Harpies. ”Did you enjoy your first Quidditch match,” Arthur
asked their Muggle guests.

”It was amazing. As fast as Formula One, but a bit like rugby,” Penny said.

”Formula One? Rugby,” Arthur asked.

”As I told you before,” Harry whispered, ”Arthur is very interested in Muggles.”

Penny started to talk Muggle sports with Arthur, who sat transfixed.

”Formula One is a special auto racing series. The drivers drive very fast around a set course. They count laps
and whichever driver completes the designated number of laps first, wins. Rugby is a bit more complicated, so
maybe sometime Dudley and I can take you all to a match,” Penny offered.

”A Muggle sporting match. Sounds fascinating,” Arthur accepted in a sort of rapture.

Harry laughed. He just couldn’t help himself. His surrogate father and soon-to-be-father-in-law never ceased to
amaze him. Arthur Weasley was a brilliant man, a powerful wizard, and a kid in a candy shop when it came to
all things Muggle. When he finally collected himself, he turned to his fiancée. ”I'm so proud of you Ginny.” Harry
said ”The Holyhead Harpies. That must be like a dream come true.”

”It is. Oh Harry, I’m so excited,” she said again as she clutched his arm. He planted a little kiss on the top of her
head and nuzzled her hair with his cheek. They were interrupted by a flock of children who had been at the
match.

”Mr Potter, can I please have your autograph? And if it's not too much to ask, can I have all of yours too.” one of
them asked, looking hopefully at Ginny, Ron and Hermione. They stopped talking and Dudley and Penny stared
back and forth between the children and their friends, mouths agape.

Harry sighed heavily. He wasn’t in the practice of signing autographs in public because of his aversion to a load
of attention. But these were children and he just didn’t have the heart to turn them down.”Sure, no problem.
What’s your name,” Harry asked as he took the child’s quill.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny signed fan photos they figured must have been torn from Witch Weekly. Ron
especially enjoyed signing Chocolate Frog cards. Anyone can have their picture taken, but to have it plastered to
a Chocolate Frog card....

”What was that all about,” Penny asked when the children had left.

”There was a dark wizard we defeated last May,” Harry shrugged.

”Harry is always so modest. We were at war the last three years, and those three...” Molly pointed at Harry, Ron
and Hermione ”... made it possible to end it. Harry defeated the most evil dark wizard in centuries, while Ginny
led a resistance at the school. They, and another friend of theirs, were all awarded the Order of Merlin, the most
prestigious honour our world can bestow.”

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Penny gaped at them. They were her age, still in school, but had fought in a war, and obviously done great
things. ”Did you know about this, Dudley?”

”Only bits of it. Harry saved my life from a horrible soul-sucking monster, which makes you relive the worse
moments of your life. It was after that I started to change my attitudes about a lot of things. All last year, my
parents and I were in hiding so that dark wizard couldn't attack Harry's only family. My parents hated it. They
hate magic, Penny. In fact that's why I moved out. Thanks to that, I met you.” Dudley told her putting an arm
across her chair. ”You see, the day before I moved out and met you, I went to Harry's birthday party. My dad
wouldn't let me go, but this lot got me out. Hermione was great.”

Ron snorted. ”Great? Blowing up your parents’ door and threatening to turn your dad into a toad? She was
mental!” Hermione blushed at Dudley’s compliment and Ron’s outburst. You may be a prat, Ronald Bilius
Weasley, but you’re my prat and I love you.

”I haven't spoken to Dad since then. Mum’s visited me a couple of times. She's worried about Dad, that his
hatred of wizards finally got the best of him. He never thought it was necessary to go into hiding and when I
wanted to go to Harry's birthday party it was too much for him.”

”Doesn't he understand it saved his life when the Order had you hidden? Doesn't he know what Voldemort would
have done to you,” Molly asked. ”He would have come to your house on Harry's 17th birthday. With Harry gone,
he would either have tortured and killed you on the spot or kept you as prisoners, torturing you for his own
amusement until he saw no purpose for keeping you alive. Then he’d have tortured you until you begged him to
kill you.”

Penny stared at Molly in stunned silence. ”He doesn't want to understand and I've had it with him,” Dudley
stated flatly. ”Now, are we having any dessert?”

”Well said, Dudley,” Ron said. ”Madame Rosmerta, dessert please.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. ”Honestly, Ronald. Is that all you think about? Food?”

”No,” he smirked, putting his arm around Hermione’s waist, pulling her close to him. He gave her a wet kiss on
the forehead. ”I think about you most of the time,” he whispered, ”you’re so beautiful.”

Harry Apparated Dudley and Penny back to Dudley’s flat. Harry left them with tentative plans to get together
again. They sat cuddled together on Dudley’s sofa, trying to gather their thoughts about their magical day.
”Dudley, I understand now why you didn't tell me about all of this. It has been a truly amazing day. Quidditch
was so great, and Harry and his friends are wonderful,” Penny said as she snuggled into the crook of his arm.

”I guess after all the horrors they have been through they really value being alive,” answered Dudley.

”You mean that war they talked about?”

”I don't really know that much, only what Harry told me and the things I heard from the wizards looking after us
while we were in hiding. They don't fight wars like us—they use magic instead of bullets. Harry was hit by some
killing curse no one but him has ever survived. There are other horrible curses...and monsters like those
soul-suckers I told you about.”

”Still, they have wonderful things like Quidditch. Did you notice something...special or...unusual about Harry
and Ginny. How old are they anyway?”

Dudley had to think a minute. ”Harry’s my age, but Ginny’s a year younger, like you. What do you mean?”

”They seem older somehow, but I guess winning wars or leading resistance factions changes a person, but I like
them. And Ron seems to like food as much as you, Dud,” Penny smiled.

”Yeah, but you know what? I like you even better,” Dudley said as he leaned down to claim Penny’s lips. She
deepened his kiss by allowing Dudley’s tongue to meet hers in a right Muggle snog.

Arthur and Molly had said their goodbyes in Hogsmeade. Hermione decided she would stay at the Three
Broomsticks with Ron.

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”Are you allowed to stay here,” Ginny asked.

”If you and Harry were apart as much as we, you wouldn't care about the rules either. I’m staying here with Ron
tonight and if McGonagall or Hagrid want to slap me with detention, I'll gladly take it,” Hermione said
resolutely.

Ron’s sapphire eyes darkened to cobalt as he felt a mild shockwave pass through his body in anticipation of
impending possibilities. What a woman!

”Don't forget the silencing charms,” Ginny grinned, reading her brother’s expression.

Harry and Ginny bid them goodnight and headed for the castle arm-in-arm.”You told me about Dudley, about
when you were growing up. It's hard to imagine he’s the same person,” Ginny said.

”Yeah, and if I run into a Dementor, I'll be sure to have my stag thank it as he drives it off. Honestly Ginny, I'm
glad I can have some sort of contact with the last of my mum's family,” Harry said thoughtfully. ”I mean, it’s
been a long time coming, but it’s nice to know I have at least one blood relative.”

Harry and Ginny walked on in contemplative silence. They reached the castle gates and stopped. Harry took her
into his arms and leaned down for a passionate and long-overdue kiss. ”I love you, Captain Weasley.”

”And I love you, Coach Potter.”

They passed through the gates and made their way past the now-silent Quidditch pitch, Hagrid’s hut, and the
Herbology greenhouses, finally arriving at the great doors. Harry ushered her inside and they made for their
room.

Once inside, Harry waved his hand at the fireplace where a warming fire burst into the grate. They undressed
and climbed onto the bed, snuggling down together under the covers. They fell asleep in one another’s arms.

Chapter 9: The New Chaser


[View Online] [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Chapter 9 – The New Chaser

The following week Harry and Ginny received a letter from Fleur. She had studied the Veela magic and wrote to
them what she had learned about love and bonding.

”Dearest Harry and Ginny,


I apologise for not writing sooner. I had help from my mother learning more about Veela magic. Bill has been
kind enough to help me with this letter. A Veela has very strong feelings. Although I am but a quarter Veela I
remember the fury I felt when Molly thought I would not marry Bill after his injuries. In a Veela, that fury can be
very dangerous to provoke. The very strong feelings of a Veela also reflect in the way she loves. When she gives
her heart, she gives it completely. She will never love anyone again as long as her beloved is alive. My mother
was told by my grandmother that some Veela loved so much they died as their beloved died.
Veela magic is powerful because it is so based on emotions that it also makes it hard to control. From what Bill
tells me, there seem to be similarities between Veela magic and what happened to both of you. I believe my best
piece of advice is to explore this with caution. It will probably increase your magical abilities, but you may find it
harder to control, and if you ever act out of fury, your powers may do much more damage than you can possibly
imagine. Love is such a beautiful thing, and if you indeed develop this bond you seem to have, it will most likely
strengthen you both as long as you stay in control. I hope you will visit us again at Shell Cottage, so that we may
talk further.
Hugs to both of you,

Fleur”

”She’s pretty much confirmed what we already know,” Ginny said.

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”Yes, but we'll talk to her next time we meet. Actually, I'd love to go to Shell Cottage again,” Harry agreed.

The week passed quickly. Harry continued teaching the DA Legilimency and Occlumency, but he had also
managed to get his hands on a Boggart thanks to Mr Filch, so they were able to practise casting their
Patronuses. Harry let the Boggart face him and take the form of a Dementor, then the members of the DA had
something to practise with. It was demanding on all of them, but their skill and speed improved. But there was
something more he felt they needed to become the best team of Aurors the Ministry had ever seen. He wanted
his group to be elite—special—with unique talents. The ability to cast non-verbal spells was invaluable and they
were coming along with that. Wandless magic had proven to be a bit more difficult, as only Cho and Seamus had
been able to pull that off, but he wanted them all to be able to do something more, something he couldn’t quite
put his finger on.

On the following Monday morning, Harry watched as the DA warmed up with some dueling practise. They were
pretty fast, and could leap away from spells now, but Susan had managed some simple evasive tumbling
manoeuvers Harry decided he might have her teach the class, including himself. Since he had been training with
the Quidditch team, he had begun to tone up rather nicely, which helped him immensely in a duel because it
extended his endurance. He decided to include some physical exercise into the program for endurance and
stamina. The tumbling would certainly help with that.

As the group continued to duel, Harry got an idea. That’s it! Body language! Reading body language could give us
the edge we need! Harry clapped his hands and called the class to order. ”Nice work, DA,” Harry said
enthusiastically. ”We’ve really done well, but we still need to work on our reflexes. I’d like us to be able to react
a bit faster because it’s the best way to get the upper hand against an opponent.”

”What do you mean, Harry,” Seamus asked.

”Do you want to be the best,” Harry asked them slyly.

”Well...sure, Harry,” said Terry.

”We all do, I think,” added Anthony.

The others nodded in agreement, especially Cho. After her foray into Harry’s memories, she trained like a
woman on a mission. She worked herself to the limits learning everything she could and setting to master it in
the bargain.

”What more could ya want us to do, mate,” Seamus asked. ”Cho and I can do the wandless magic you’re so keen
about, Susan’s a bloody acrobat, and the rest of us have non-verbal spells down to a fine art.”

”Listen, you’re all doing a great job, but I think you...we...can do more. I’ve been thinking a lot about
dueling...”

”Yeah, it’s your favorite thing,” Lavender said chuckling. ”You’re the devil at it too.”

The rest of the class laughed at Lavender’s observation. Harry was, in fact, a champion-class dueler and
essentially unbeaten among the DA—the whole school, really. Nobody wanted to take him on, which was rather
hard for him because he needed to train too. He had humiliated his class, although not on purpose, so that was
part of his motivation for making them elite.

”Let Harry talk, you lot,” Cho shouted above the chatter. “What is it you’ve been thinking about, Harry. What do
you mean when you say we can do more?”

”I mean that we need to learn how to read body language. We need to pay attention to hand and arm
movements and watch our opponents’ mouths,” Harry replied. ”I also want us to do some physical training as
well.” The class let out a soft groan and Harry held up both of his hands as if to ward them off.

”As I said before, we need to work on our reflexes—our reaction time. We also need to be able to outlast the
”bad guys” in a fight. If we can exhibit physical as well as magical superiority over the criminal element, we
could become the most-elite fighting force the Auror Office,--hell, the Ministry—have ever seen. We could be
literally THE BEST.”

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Harry could see that he’d managed to get his team’s blood up. Seamus’ eyes flashed. Harry knew that the
scrappy Irishman would be the first to latch onto the best. Terry and Anthony looked conspiratorially at one
another, and the girls squared their shoulders and lifted their chins defiantly as if imagining their success as the
best.

”So how do we do this,” Lavender asked. ”Is it something you do?”

”It looks like it might be the thing that’s keeping you from besting me. It’s something I think I’ve done all along
and never really thought about until now,” Harry admitted. ”It just kind of came to me while you lot were
warming up.”

”I get it,” Susan said. ”If we can get a fix on what it looks like when our opponent is about to cast his or her
spell, we can maybe beat them to it, by either using a shield or a stronger spell.”

”We might even be able to side-step the Cruciatus curse or even the killing curse,” Cho said with a twinkle in
her eyes. ”Then we really could be the best.”

”That’s the idea, ladies,” Harry replied. ”Before someone speaks, he or she has to open their mouth slightly
before they can. That’s what you’ll be looking for. The only thing I can think of is that I’ve watched their faces as
well as their arms and hands without really realising it, so I have an idea as to how we might practise this.”

Harry conjured a conference-size table and some chairs. He instructed the group to pair off across the table from
one another and say the names of strong spells, slowly at first so as to learn to recognise how the mouth moves,
and then speed up. The first spell Harry chose for them to practise recognising was Crucio, since it was the spell
of choice among Death Eaters. After about half an hour, the group was saying it as a normal part of speech.

”Now the thing with the Unforgivables is that they’re spells cast in hate...at least the Cruciatus and killing curses
are. Imperio isn’t necessarily hate-motivated, but it usually is,” Harry explained. When the DEs...”

”The what,” Lavender asked.

”Oh, sorry. DEs—Death Eaters—when they cast it, they screw their faces up into a grotesque mask of pure
hatred. Here, I’ll try to show you,” Harry said, intending to show them the look Severus Snape had on his face
when he threw the killing curse at Dumbledore. That look burned itself into Harry’s memory and he’d never
forget it, although he knew now that it wasn’t hatred for Dumbledore, but hatred for what he was doing. He
imagined that perhaps Snape had poured his hatred for Voldemort into that look. So, that in mind, Harry
screwed his face up and scared the pants off his class.

”Damn, Potter,” Terry said jumping aside with a horrified look on his own face. ”You scared the shit out of me!”

”Yeah, I hope to hell I never find myself on the wrong end of your wand,” Anthony added, equally rattled.

”For a moment, there, I though ya were really goin’ ta curse us,” Seamus laughed nervously.

”Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you, but now you understand what goes into those nasty curses. Frankly, I doubt
there’s a soul in this room who could hate anyone enough to do it—not even to a DE,” Harry told them honestly.
”And that’s what’ll make us so different.”

”Different,” Cho said, a bit confused.

”Different. What did we agree to on Day One? We agreed that everything we do—everything the DA would ever
do—would be in the spirit of friendship and love, yeah? That’s been our mantra, as Parvati would put it, and our
credo. That being the case, we couldn’t do anything in the name of hate or revenge. We do what we do in the
name of justice.” Harry paused to allow that to sink in. He was about to say more, but the bell rang signaling the
end of that class period. ”Keep reading your manuals, and I’ll see you all on Wednesday.”

The DA picked up their gear and made for the door. Cho stopped and waited for the others to leave. ”Harry,
thanks again for the Pensieve thing. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me. I even sleep better now,” she
said.

”Then it was worth it. I’m glad you’re feeling better. It shows in your work,” Harry replied.

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”I can feel it myself,” she said. ”Now you’ve given me something else to focus on—watching people.”

”Watching people?”

”Of course,” she said slyly. ”I’m doing it right now. I’ve embarrassed you,” she giggled.

”How do you know that,” Harry asked nervously.

”Body language...and the fact that you’re red as beet-root,” Cho said with another giggle. ”See you
Wednesday.”

Cho left the room as Harry stood there chuckling to himself and rubbing the back of his neck. I’ve created a
monster. He banished the conjured table and chairs and set to tidying up. He still had some paperwork to finish
before he met Ginny for lunch.

Ginny had written Gwenog Jones to find out the best time to come to camp so she might ask Professor
McGonagall for permission to practise with the Harpies, but hadn’t received a reply yet. She was lamenting this
to Harry over lunch, when a large tawny owl flew into the Great Hall and dropped a rolled parcel in front of him,
looped back over the staff table and flew out.

”I wonder what this could be,” Harry said, untying the string.

”It looks like a newspaper of some kind, but not the Prophet,” Ginny observed. ”They never wrap it.”

Harry removed the brown paper from around the parcel and sure enough, it was a newspaper. The Wisconsin
Witch Herald the masthead read. Underneath the masthead, Whitewater, Wisconsin Established 1848. Harry let
out a laugh. ”It’s from Doug Sheldon, Gin. He sent us a copy of the article!”
”Really,” Gin said, obviously surprised. ”That was nice of him. What does it say?”

Harry read:

”Interview With a Hero by Douglas Sheldon, Staff WriterPhoto courtesy of The Quibbler
At the International Law-Enforcement Convention Ball held in London in September, I had the pleasure of
meeting Wizarding Britain’s greatest hero, Harry J. Potter and his lovely fiancée, Ginevra M. (Ginny) Weasley.
Thanks to his friend, Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, I was able to sit down with Mr Potter and Miss
Weasley for a chat.
Harry Potter defeated the darkest wizard in history last spring, saving the magical world from a most heinous
evil. For his efforts, Harry has received many awards and accolades, but he doesn’t really think he deserves
them. ’I did what I had to do—we all did,’ is how he sums up the entire affair. ’I didn’t do this alone. I couldn’t
have done,’ he says. ’Without the help of my two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, I could never
have done it. We simply wouldn’t be here if not for them.’

”It’s true, you know. I couldn’t...” Harry began.

”I know, Love. I know,” Ginny said. ”Go on, then.”


Mr Weasley (Ginny’s older brother) and Miss Granger are Harry’s best friends. They stuck together through thick
and thin at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Britain’s institution for magical study and learning.
According to Harry, they’d been involved in fighting the dark arts since their first year at Hogwarts and it all
culminated in a nine-month quest to defeat the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort, aka Tom Riddle. The
search ended with a final battle at the school on May 2 of this year, where Harry, through the use of a strong
personal shield and a simple disarming spell, Expelliarmus, managed to cause Ridde’s killing curse to rebound,
killing himself instantly.

”That was something else,” Ginny said. ”If you could’ve seen that from our point of view, Harry, it was...”

”Yeah, I can imagine,” Harry said. The memory pained him and Ginny knew it.

”You all right,” Ginny asked. ”I didn’t mean to...”

”I know, Love. Let’s read on, shall we?”

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In the midst of what our English cousins call The Second Wizarding War, Ginny led a student resistance effort at
the school alongside another close friend, Neville Longbottom. Their clandestine raids and rescue missions saved
the lives of several of their friends and classmates who dared defy Voldemort’s minions, brutal lunatics who had
taken control of the school. ’Again, we did what we had to do, but we did it the way we thought Harry would do
it,’ Ginny says. ’We always thought: What would Harry do, and that’s what we did.’

”We need to talk about that, Ginny,” Harry said pointedly. ”You still haven’t told me much about that.”

”There isn’t much to tell other than what I told Doug for this article,” she lied.

Harry knew better. He could feel her apprehension through their bond. He decided to let it go for now and read
on.
According to Ginny, the Death Eaters (Voldemort’s most fanatical followers), Amycus and Alecto Carrow, a
brother and sister team, brutalized any and all students who dared defy them. Miss Weasley and Mr Longbottom
suffered beatings, torture, and deprivation for their efforts, as did several others who aided them in the
resistance. For their bravery and valor, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Mr Longbottom
were awarded Wizarding Britain’s highest honor, The Order of Merlin.
One could imagine that all the glory and accolades heaped upon ones so young as Harry Potter and Ginny
Weasley might cause them to become full of themselves, but this is simply not the case at all. Harry is a kind,
honest young man who shies away from the spotlight and prefers to be just Harry. He doesn’t think of himself as
a hero at all. 'I had to do things that I’m not proud of,’ he says. ’Heroes do things they can be proud of.’ Ginny
disagrees.’ He’s annoyingly modest. Harry is a hero, whether he cares to admit it or not,’ she says of her fiancé.
’None of us could have done what he did, help or no help.’

”Annoyingly modest,” Harry asked with a Harry-grin. ”I thought my modesty was something you found...sexy.”

”It is sexy, Love, but you are a hero—you’re my hero,” she cooed, brushing a stray lock of raven from his eyes.
”Apart from the rest of the world, you saved my life, my father’s life, Ron’s life, and probably Bill’s life too. Dad
told you all of this. That qualifies you as a hero, Harry.”

”I suppose, but I was only doing...”

”...what you had to do. I know. Keep reading,” she said, pressing her fingers to his lips.
Harry’s personal ambitions involve the desire to become an Auror. He says he wants to fight the dark arts
wherever they are. ’I want to make a difference,’ he says resolutely.’ There are still Death Eaters on the loose
out there. There are still criminals out there. It’s never going to go away entirely, so we need to maintain
constant vigilance, as an old friend used to say.’ If and when evil rears its ugly head in Britain again, Harry Potter
will be there to rein it in, no doubt.

”Constant Vigilance! I can still hear Mad-Eye’s voice echoing through my mind,” Harry mused. ”Even though...”

”He was a grumpy old soul, but his heart was in the right place,” Ginny said. ”Is there more?”

”Yeah, just a couple more paragraphs,” Harry replied and read on.
If I were to attempt to sum up Harry James Potter, I would first have to say don’t believe the hype. Harry is a
regular guy thrust into some irregular circumstances. His life has been fraught with tragedy and pain, but he has
come through it all a better man. He values his friendships, reveres the power of love, believes in family, and
takes none of it for granted. He admits that he is hopelessly in love with Ginny, and they plan to marry once she
finished school at Hogwarts, but they haven’t set an exact date yet. ’Some time next summer,’ Harry says.
Good luck, Mr Potter, and on behalf of The Wisconsin Witch Herald, I’d like to extend our congratulations to you
and Ginny on your engagement. All the best to a couple who truly deserves it.”

”That was a really nice article,” Ginny said gratefully. ”I think I’ll send him a thank you note, both for the article
and the issue.”

”Good idea.” For the first time, Harry felt good about something written about him in the press that he didn’t
write himself. If Doug Sheldon ever wanted another interview with him, he’d sure get it. He and Ginny both
approved of the photograph of them that Luna took at Harry’s birthday party. Harry was glad they didn’t use any
photos from the Prophet, although lately, that publication had been rather good to them. But still, he was
grateful that Doug went to Xeno Lovegood for a photo, rather than the editors of the Daily Prophet.

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That weekend, as usual, Ron came to Hogsmeade and had lunch with Harry and Ginny at the Three Broomsticks.
Among the many familiar faces at the popular inn, Dean and Luna arrived together and came over to their table.
The first few minutes were tense as Harry became very protective of Ginny, his hand hovering near his wand.

”Hello, everyone,” called Luna in her usual airy manner.

”Hello, Ron. Hello, Hermione,” Dean called trying to hide his nervousness.

”Hello, Dean,” Hermione answered cordially.

”’Lo,” Ron grunted.

Dean began to shift on his feet. His eyes darted nervously to Harry and Ginny. He had a lot of explaining and
apologising to do and he wasn’t sure how to do it. He had said some truly awful things to and about them,
leading to a lot of bad blood. He wasn’t sure how to go about it, so he decided that maybe the best thing to do
was to dive in head first and hope for the best.

Harry narrowed his eyes and stared daggers at his former school dorm mate. ”Dean,” he said flatly.

”Erm...Harry, we never really talked after... that day in the common room... in sixth year...” Dean stammered.
He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets and took a deep breath.

”And...” Harry said, expressionless. Ginny squeezed his thigh and sent him the support of her love through their
bond.

” I just want to say that I'm over Ginny and wish you happiness. I was hurt that day, but we're friends, right?”

Harry hesitated as he considered Dean Thomas. He sounded hopeful—even remorseful. There was bad blood, but
they’d also been through a lot together during the war. They’d both been on the run all those months, though
not together or for the same reasons. They’d both survived capture and imprisonment at Malfoy Manor and
recovered at Shell Cottage. They’d fought on the same side at the Battle of Hogwarts. It’s time to forgive, Harry.
Time to heal.

Ginny squeezed his thigh again and he looked at her. Her eyes said it all—let go. He nodded and looked back up
at Dean. His eyes softened and he smiled. ”I admit I was jealous when you were together with Ginny, so I guess
we're even. We lived in the same dorm for six years and we’ve been through a lot. Of course we're still friends.”

Harry stood and shook hands with Dean, who pulled him into a man-hug. He went to hug Ginny, too, but
paused. Harry nodded his approval—as if it was necessary—and she hugged Dean. They all sat down together,
but Harry held Ginny as close as he could without pulling her into his lap.

”So Luna, what are you doing now,” Ron asked.

”I'm seeking out unknown plants and creatures. I'm soon off to South America, but I'll be back,” she replied. I
heard something about Harry and Ginny planning their wedding for next summer, so I'd like to be there if I'm
invited. And I wanted to see Dean again before I leave. We got to be really good friends last year.”

”Of course you’ll be invited Luna,” Harry promised.

Ginny sat with Harry for breakfast the next morning, and over their bacon and eggs, a large barn owl flew low
over the Gryffindor table and dropped a letter into Ginny’s plate. It was from Gwenog Jones, inviting her to
Harpies practise whenever she could get permission from Professor McGonagall to leave school. She had
enclosed the training schedule to make it easier to schedule the practises around her responsibilities and
academic obligations.

”Harry, it’s from Gwenog Jones! I really get to train with the Harpies,” she squealed. She leapt up and threw
herself into Harry’s arms in front of most of the student body. She landed on his lap and kissed him square on

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the mouth.

Harry felt her excitement and couldn’t help but return her kiss...and the world melted away again, if only for a
fleeting moment. They came to themselves amid wolf whistles and catcalls from the other students in the Great
Hall. ”Gin...erm...Gin,” Harry repeated between kisses. ”That’s really great and I’m proud of you, Love, but
you’re snogging me in the Great Hall in front of practically the whole school,” he said looking her straight in the
eye, trying not to laugh.

”Bloody hell,” Ginny said, blushing furiously amid a wave of light laughter rolling over the Ravenclaw and
Gryffindor tables. The Slytherins were neither impressed nor amused, while the Hufflepuffs were trying to figure
out what was so funny. She shot a panicked glance at the staff table, finding it devoid of Professor McGonagall.
She breathed a sigh of relief. ”I have to check with Professor McGonagall before I give the Harpies an answer,”
she said. ”Wish me luck.”

”Always. Do you want me to come with you,” Harry asked.

”No, Love. I need to do this myself.” Harry’s face fell a little and she felt his hurt through their bond and
returned it with a burst of her love. ”It’s not that I don’t want you to come with me, it’s just that I have to fight
my own battles sometimes. But I’ll take you with me here,” she said, placing his hand over her heart.

Harry had to admit that he did tend to want to be everything to her, but there were sure to be times in their life
together that she’d have to deal with things on her own. He was going to become an Auror. That meant he
might be in the field for days at a time. He couldn’t very well expect her to stop making day-to-day decisions
just because he wasn’t there. In addition, he was an Intern and would be expected to go on missions even now.
”All right, Love,” he agreed, placing her hand over his own heart. ”Now off with you.”

Ginny trotted down the aisle to the Entrance Hall and then literally sprinted through the castle on her way to
the headmistress’ office. ”Tartan,” she said to the gargoyle. It leapt aside and let her pass. She took a few deep
calming breaths and knocked.

”Enter, Miss Weasley,” she answered. ”What can I do for you?”

”H-how did you know it was me,” Ginny asked, bewildered.

”You’ve had a letter from Gwenog Jones, is that right,” she asked, looking over her spectacles. Taking amused
note of the surprise on Ginny’s face, she went on. ”I had such a letter myself about you.”

Ginny told her about meeting Gwenog Jones after the game and the invitation to practise. ”So...may I go,” she
asked, biting her bottom lip.

”I will permit you to practise any day you see fit this week.”

”Thank you, Professor. I’ll go this evening. Thank you,” Ginny cried, resisting the temptation to hug the stuffing
out of her headmistress.

Professor McGonagall looked at her sharply. ”I may be Headmistress, and I’m supposed to remain unbiased, but
I’m advising you to learn some good play strategies to make the House cup ours... Gryffindor's.”

Ginny smiled and eagerly promised to do her best. She met Harry back at their room. She was bursting with
excitement and anticipation. She wanted Harry to go with her, but she knew he couldn’t get away.

”That's great, Ginny! I’d love to come with you, but you know I can’t. I need to plan my upcoming lessons and
write a report to the Ministry. We need more theoretical instruction and some updated copies of the Auror Field
Manual to study. Plus, we’re working on some new dueling techniques that I’m hoping will make our team of
new Aurors a real force to be reckoned with. It's a lot easier getting those things done if you're not
around...commanding my...er...attention. I can work while you're gone so I won't miss you as much,” Harry said
looking up from a parchment on the desk.

”Mr Potter, am I distracting you?” Ginny said unbuttoning her blouse.

Harry hitched in a breath and stared at his beautiful fiancée. ”You’re evil, you know that,” he grinned, but he

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wasn’t complaining either. He watched transfixed as she picked up her wand. Staring into his darkening emerald
green eyes, she cast the contraceptive charm and began to walk seductively toward him. He gulped. She
launched herself onto him, wrapping her creamy legs around his waist and claiming his lips in a mind-blowing
kiss.

They never made the short distance to the bed. Before they knew it, their clothes lay on the floor and Harry had
Ginny pinned to the desk, kissing her lips, her neck, and her shoulders, leaving little nips here and there as he
breathed in the scent that drove him to real distraction. ”Gin, you drive me mad,” Harry moaned. ”I love you so
much.” Harry carried her to the bed, and as they kissed he was yet again stunned by her beauty. Gryffindor’s
Lion roared its approval from somewhere in Harry’s chest.

As they lay there in the semi darkness, they held each other closely, sending bursts of love and joy in the
moment through their bond. She snuggled up close, as if she couldn’t get close enough. He raised her face and
kissed her tenderly, then gazed into her eyes. They were glistening. ”Ginny, baby, you’re crying! Are you all
right? Did I...”

”No, my love. You didn’t hurt me. It’s just...that I...I love you, Harry. I can’t say it enough. Those three words,
beautiful as they are, just don’t seem adequate,” she said through her tears. ”While we were making love just
now, I could feel every little spark...every iota of your love for me. It was so overwhelming, it brought tears to
my eyes.”

”I know what you mean,” he said as propped his head on his hand wiped her tears with his free thumb. ”I felt
that too. There are no words to describe this and in a way, it’s frustrating. But since you feel it too, perhaps it’s
just one of those things we can let go unspoken, since there are no words...”

”No words,” Ginny murmured against his still-swollen lips. ”No words.” She pressed her lips to his once again as
he gathered her into his arms gently and lovingly. They lay there kissing and caressing until it was time for her
to go meet with the Harpies.

Ginny took a quick shower, dressed, and grabbed her equipment bag. ”I’ll be back later tonight,” she promised.
Harry had already dived under the bed to retrieve her broom for her.

”I’ll be here,” he promised, handing over her broom. ”Be careful and have a good time.”

”Thank you, love,” she said as she kissed Harry goodbye and Flooed from their room to the Holyhead Harpies
practise pitch. Gwenog Jones turned around as Ginny stepped out of the fireplace.

”Miss Weasley, how nice to see you. Are you joining us today?”

”If it's all right with you, Miss Jones, I'd love to. And please call me Ginny.”

”Sure, as long as you call me Gwen. Come, let's introduce you to the rest of the team. We were just getting
changed.”

Ginny followed Gwen to the dressing room where the rest of the team were dressing.
”Everybody, this is the talented Chaser from Hogwarts I told you about. I didn't tell you who it was, but I'm sure
you all recognise Miss Ginny Weasley.”

They looked at her. It was a strange feeling for Ginny. The members of her favourite team were looking at her
as if she was the celebrity.

”Hi,” Ginny said blushing.

”Ginny,” Gwen told her ”Meet the team, our Keeper Gwyneth Lee, my fellow Beater Grace Gordon, Chasers
Gabriella Brown, Griselda Rose, Glenda Stockwell and Seeker Geraldine Hill.

They all greeted her and Gwen ordered Quidditch robes for Ginny. Griselda stopped in front of Ginny.

”I'm the one retiring after this season. If you're given the chance it's me you'll be replacing,” Griselda told her.

”It's a bit overwhelming. I've been a Harpies fan forever. I can't believe I'm practicing with you!”

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”Don't worry,” Griselda encouraged her. ”I've seen many new players over the years. No one has commanded
more respect on their first visit. They all know what you did last year, they all know you're marrying Harry
Potter, and the way Gwen talked about the match at Hogwarts, they know you are a good player. Let's get
dressed.”

A while later, they emerged from the dressing room onto the pitch. Ginny brought her Firebolt. Everyone in the
team flew Firebolts, and they nodded their approval at Ginny’s. ”It was a present from the family when I came of
age,” she told them.

Gwen stepped to the front. ”Since we have four Chasers today, you begin by playing two on two. Ginny you're
with Glenda; Gabriella, you’re with Griselda. Ginny, I'll be your Keeper; Gwyneth, you're Keeper for Griselda
and Gab. Grace and Geraldine, take notes.” Ginny was impressed by the authoritative tone in Gwenog's voice,
and how the others paid her the strictest attention.

The six players would begin play using only the Quaffle. Ginny immediately understood this would be tough,
especially because she had to shoot against the real Keeper, and manoeuver with a Chaser she never played
with. Gwenog was tough but not accustomed to the Keeper position. She tried to think about the way Glenda
used to play.

Ginny had read all about the team and each of their individual playing styles. As soon as the Quaffle was thrown
off, the speed at which these women flew took Ginny’s breath away. She’d flown hard with Harry, who could
careen around a pitch like lightning, but these women could fly a Firebolt and make it worthy of its name, too.
Glenda caught the Quaffle just inches from crashing into Gabriella. After the brief hesitation, Ginny quickly tried
to position herself to allow Glenda to pass to her, but Griselda stuck to her like glue. Ginny did a rough break
almost falling off her broom, and shot off towards Gwyneth. Griselda was soon mere feet behind her when
Glenda passed forcing Gwyneth to move sideways. Ginny threw the Quaffle at the far ring. Gwyneth had to
move back making a desperate save.

Before Ginny could catch her breath, Gabriella took control of the Quaffle and raced back across the pitch. Ginny
still had Griselda right on top of her. Ignoring Griselda, Ginny flew after Gab. She saw Glenda coming in on the
left. The three of them were flying right at Gab. It appeared they would crash. Ginny gained a few feet in the
last second and made a roll, snatching the Quaffle. She took a blow to her shoulder, but remained on her broom.
Glenda flew straight for Griselda, who had to turn, while Gab still headed for Gwen's goal posts. Ginny made a
quick dive, pushing her Firebolt to its limits before racing up against Gwyneth. The other three were yards away,
so it was Ginny alone against a professional Keeper. Ginny maintained full speed until she was as close to the
Keeper as she dared. She tilted right making Gwyneth uncertain as to where the shot might come from. Ginny
made a full roll again, and coming back up, she let the shot go to the left goal. Gwyneth couldn't save a shot
coming from so close up at that speed. Ginny watched the Quaffle pass through the ring. It was like a dream.

They continued playing, but after a while, the better coordinated Chasers scored on Gwen, who was not a
Keeper. After thirty minutes, Ginny's team had lost 90 to 50, but Ginny had scored two goals against a
professional Keeper. She was excited, but exhausted. She learned very quickly that professional Quidditch
demanded speed, intensity and hard concentration. It was clear to her that this was Quidditch on a level far
beyond that of the Hogwarts matches. Gwenog let the Seeker practise and Grace along with Gwenog worked the
Bludgers, keeping their Seeker safe. This gave the Chasers a chance to catch their breath.

”How are you feeling,” Griselda asked Ginny.

”Exhausted, but happier than ever,” Ginny answered.

”That's exactly the way you should feel,” Gabriella told her. ”At my first practicse, I fell off my broom after just
five minutes. I was heartbroken, believing I'd never play professionally. It turned out that I only broken my
collarbone, and did get the contract.”

After a while, practise wrapped up with the practise of various flying skills. It took a lot of co-ordination from
each player, but Ginny gleaned loads of new ideas for her team at Hogwarts. After practise and a well-needed, if
not welcome shower where Ginny noticed a nasty bruise on her shoulder, the team gathered in the sitting room
of the club house.

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”So Ginny, how did you like your first practise,” Gwen asked.

”It was amazing—so fast and intense. I did my best, but I have so much to learn.”

”Ginny, we test the skill of every player we consider for the team. You played against two coordinated
professionals, and a professional Keeper. Still you scored twice. It's a great result. We don't expect Chasers to
score at all during the first practise. We want to see flying skill, focus, talent and understanding of the game.
You have it all. I want to see you a couple of more times, but I think I speak for the team when I say we have a
top candidate in you to replace Griselda.”

”You really think I'm that good?”

Gwyneth looked at her. ”I was lost the times you scored. You just about pushed me to my breaking point a
couple of times. I’ve met many Chasers in my time, but you are a natural talent. Sure, you need professional
training and more experience, but at your age, what experience you have coming only from playing at
Hogwarts, you are a great player.”

”Thanks for coming today, Ginny. You are welcome any time Professor McGonagall allows you to come,” Gwen
told her. ”And keep your robes until we either sign a contract or agree not to.”

Ginny Flooed back and Gwenog looked at the fire place, before turning to her team. ”I almost asked her to join
us right away,” she said. ”I don’t think we’ll ever find anyone better, so the board should be easy to convince.”
The others looked at her. ”First of all, skill-wise, the girl is a phenomenon. Secondly, she's the future Mrs Harry
Potter. The board will love the publicity that is sure to come with her on the team. Thirdly, she's the country's
most famous witch, and a stunning beauty. She'll earn the club a fortune. But most importantly, she’ll score a
lot for us. Merlin, now I'm talking as if the contract’s signed already.”

Ginny stepped out of the fireplace. Harry had fallen asleep at the desk, with his head resting on his stack of
reports for the Ministry. Ginny levitated him to the bed, undressed him, and tucked him in. She undressed,
climbed into the bed next to him and cuddled up.

Harry stirred. His eyes fluttered open sleepily. ”Mmm, I love your flowery scent,” he whispered ”How did it go?”
He buried his face in her neck and kissed her pulse point.

”I did okay, I think. Gwen said I'm...mmm...their top candidate, but I don't know how many there are and I don't
know how...mmm...many more they will try out. But she welcomed me back to practise again with them.
Mmm...” She involuntarily cocked her head aside to give him better access to her graceful neck.

Harry kissed her tenderly. ”I'm so proud of you.” You’re making me crazy, my Queen of the Quidditch pitch.
“What was it like, playing with them?” He began to rub her upper arm with the palm of his hand.

”Faster, more intense, more physical... don't touch my shoulder... and yes, I scored twice while playing two on
two,” she said with a hiss.

Harry looked at her shoulder, made wincing sound, and slipped out of bed. He padded into the bathroom.

”Harry, where are you going,” she asked him, half sitting up in the bed. ”What are you doing?”

I’m going to do something about that shoulder of yours. That’s a right nasty bruise you’ve got there and since
you don’t want me to touch it, I know it’s killing you, and when you hurt, I hurt,” he replied.

”Ah! Here it is!’ He returned to the bed with a dark blue jar in his hand. ”Here, let me see,” he said as she rolled
a little to expose her shoulder. Harry gingerly applied the ointment to the bruise. ”That should take care of it
overnight.” Then he kissed her neck again, setting the jar on the bedside table.

”You take such good care of me,” Ginny sighed contentedly.


”Just doing my job, Love,” Harry replied, still kissing her neck. ”So what else happened?”

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”They...mmm...now who’s a distraction? Harry, that feels heavenly, but...I’m trying to tell you...oh my...”

Harry stopped kissing her. ”All right, go on. I’ll behave.”

”They let me keep a set of Harpies robes during the try-out period. It's almost unreal wearing them,” she said,
beaming.

”I'm glad you’re happy. I can feel it, and I really need that after a boring but necessary evening of paperwork.”
He began to kiss her again. ”I missed you though. I missed your voice, your touch, your laugh, your...this...and
these...and...”

”I thought you were going to behave,” Ginny teased. ”In fact, you’re being very naughty and I think I like it.”

”Oh is that so,” Harry said cheekily. ”Do you like this too?” Harry rolled her over on top of him and twisted his
fist in her hair, a smouldering look on his face.

”So impetuous, Mr Potter. We are a bit randy this evening, aren’t we,” she teased some more. She gave him her
signature blazing gaze and then leaned down until her lips were mere millimetres from his. ”I do like it.” She
captured his lips in a mind-blowing kiss.

He ran his tongue along her lower lip, coaxing her mouth open. She obliged and his tongue slipped in and
engaged hers in a merry oral copulation. The world melted away as they embarked on a bender of kisses,
caresses, and manual exploration. The unspoken love they shared coursed through their bodies through their
bond. ”Merlin, you are just so beautiful, so fine,” Harry said, his voice quivering. ”I love you so much, Gin,
I...I...” He couldn’t finish, but he knew she understood. It came through the bond.

”Harry, I know. I love you too, but...” she couldn’t finish either. She felt his intensity through their bond, but it
also lay in his glorious emerald eyes, now darkened with desire. His kisses, though intense, still conveyed his
love, his ultimate respect, and the unspoken thing between them that only they could understand. They snogged
one another senseless until drained of energy, she slid off him onto the bed. They lay in one another’s arms,
tears born of the unspoken thing streaming down their faces as they gazed lovingly into one another’s eyes.
Soon, overcome with the intensity of that unspoken thing, they cuddled up and fell asleep.

Over the following month, Ginny practised once per week with the Harpies and got to know the girls on the
team. The practise was extremely demanding, but Ginny did feel she could make a professional career of
Quidditch with the Harpies.

The greatest difference between House Quidditch at Hogwarts and professional Quidditch lay with the
requirement to fly as close to top speed as possible at all times, still coordinating passes and avoiding Bludgers.
The other Harpies encouraged her, and Ginny's enthusiasm showed in the way the Gryffindor team played
during practise. During one practise that Harry wasn’t working with Dennis, he watched from the stands with
Hermione.

”Flying is not my thing, but she's getting better, right,” Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. ”She's faster, and she's coordinating her fellow Chasers better. She's also working her Beaters in
a new way. At this rate, Hufflepuff don’t stand a chance.”

Hermione spent a lot of her time studying, but Harry had forced her out to get some air. ”You're missing Ron,
aren’t you” Harry asked.

”Yes, and I also want to get my NEWTs. It's hard spending so much time apart. I really miss him, Harry.” They
continued watching the practise. ”Thanks Harry, for bringing me here. I needed the break.”

”Hey, that's what friends are for, yeah?”

Three days before the match against Hufflepuff, Professor McGonagall summoned Ginny to her office and bring
Harry with her. Upon arrival, they met Gwenog Jones, who was there with a woman Ginny didn't know.

”Good afternoon Ginny,” Gwenog greeted cheerfully. ”You must be Ginny's fiancé.”

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He greeted her, shaking her hand. ”Harry Potter, pleased to meet you, Miss Jones. Ginny has told me all about
you and about pratcising with the Harpies.”

”Pleased to meet you too, Mr Potter. I guess you're getting tired of people thanking you for winning the war, but
thanks. Let me introduce my friend, President of the Board of Directors for the Holyhead Harpies, Mrs Georgia
Carpenter.”

They all greeted one another cordially. ”Gwen has told me about your outstanding performance during practise.
So right to the point, Miss Weasley, we want you to play for us next season.”

Ginny couldn't find any words. Had she just been offered a place as professional player on her favourite team?
After meeting them a few times, she knew friendship was important to the club. Everyone was quickly on first
name basis in that organisation. It was a concept she understood well from her association with the DA.

”I want to play for you,” Ginny said. ”But...” She looked meaningfully at Harry. That was a decision she
definitely wanted his input on before she accepted.

”Is this what you want, love,” Harry asked her, sending love and support through their bond. ”I want only for
you to be happy, Gin.”

”It’s been my dream since I was little,” she said, ”but you’re my dream too. Our life together is my dream—our
dream.”

”If playing for the Harpies will make you happy, then I’m all for it,” he assured her. He sent another wave of
love and pride her way. ”You and the Harpies have my full support.”

”Great. Well, there will, of course, be detailed contract negotiations, but today we sign the parchment that
makes you a Holyhead Harpies Chaser,” Georgia told her, sliding the parchment across the desk toward Ginny.
”Please read it and feel free to ask any questions.”

Harry and Ginny read the parchment. It was a simple contract between Ginevra Molly Weasley and the Holyhead
Harpies. Ginny agreed to play for the club, and the club agreed to provide a salary to be negotiated, pay for
equipment, cover travel expenses and other benefits to be specified, such as so many complimentary tickets and
medical care in case of injury. Fees generated from product and services endorsements and personal
appearances on behalf of the club would be negotiated as well.

”It looks all right to me,” Ginny said and looked at Harry. ”How about you?”

He nodded his agreement.

”Yes, as you can see it's a National Quidditch League standard draft contract. The only thing it means right now
is that Ginny won't be able to accept any offers from another club for next season. The Harpies hire Ginny as a
Chaser for the coming season. All the details will be negotiated later,” Gwenog said.

Ginny trembled a little as she held the quill. After a look at a very proud Harry and a nod of encouragement, she
signed the two identical parchments. Georgia signed for the Harpies and gave one copy to Ginny.

”As President of the Board of Directors for the Holyhead Harpies, let me be the first to welcome you as our new
Chaser. Is it all right to call you Ginny?”

Ginny nodded. ”Thank you so much Ms. Carpenter.”

”Welcome to the Harpies, Ginny!” Gwenog gave her a brief hug. ”I knew you were our new Chaser when I saw
you playing here.”

”Congratulations, Gin,” Harry said as Ginny and she threw herself over him. ”I'm... so... proud... and... happy...
for.... you... love,” Harry said as he tried to get air between Ginny's kisses. Somebody’s getting lucky tonight.

They broke apart and Gwenog asked Ginny to talk to Professor McGonagall to see if there was a chance for
Ginny to practise every week with the Harpies. She promised to ask.

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The following morning, Hermione, Harry and Ginny entered the Great Hall for breakfast. Immediately the
Gryffindor table stood and cheered as her team ran toward her. They held up the Daily Prophet. Ginny had made
the headlines, again.

”Ginny Weasley Signs With the Harpies


Holyhead Harpies' President Georgia Carpenter confirmed last evening that they have signed a new Chaser
replacing Griselda Rose who is currently playing her last season. The new Harpies Chaser is none other than Miss
Ginny Weasley, currently finishing her studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and captaining the
Gryffindor House Quidditch team. Harpies captain Gwenog Jones tells us she spotted Miss Weasley at the first
Hogwarts match this season. Miss Weasley has practised with the Harpies for a tryout period. The draft contracts
are signed and negotiations for her player contract will begin soon.

”That’s pretty straightforward stuff,” Harry said.


Miss Weasley's contract will be an exciting one. She is a rookie player, but also this country’s most famous witch.
The Holyhead Harpies will certainly see an increase in its fan base, sponsorships, endorsements and merchandise
with the future Mrs Harry Potter on the team.

”I guess they had to slip that in, didn’t they,” Harry said with a resigned sigh.
'Miss Weasley is joining the Harpies because of her skill as player, not because she's a war hero or because she is
engaged to Mr Potter,' Mrs Carpenter clarifies. According to Gwenog Jones, Miss Weasley is a natural talent born
to fly. On the other hand, The Holyhead Harpies don't deny the benefits of having a famous player.”

”I think I like that Mrs Carpenter,” Harry said with a half-grin. ”At least she knows how to handle the media.”

”What do you mean,” Ginny asked.

”It means, my love, that she’s making it clear to the public that you made the team on talent and ability, not
because you’re the love of my life,” Harry said, putting an arm around her. ”She wants it understood that hiring
you wasn’t a publicity stunt.” He gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek.

”That’s right, Miss Ginny,” Joseph said, coming up behind her. ”You’re a good player, make no mistake. Ain’t she
Em?”

Ginny turned around to face two of her favorite firsties to find them holding hands. Emma stood their grinning
like the cat that ate the canary. ”You saw it for yourselves! Ginny, you flew circles around the Ravenclaw
team!”

”We’ll see how many circles I fly around Puddlemere United or the Montrose Magpies,” Ginny said.

”Or the Chudley Cannons,” Harry said with a snicker.

”Oh my gosh! Ron,” Ginny gasped. ”He’s going to flip!”

”Ginny! This is so awesome,” cried Patricia and Erica as they rushed up the aisle. Patricia and Erica each hugged
Ginny. Erica stepped forward and stood by Harry.

”Hey, cuteness,” Harry said to her.

”And I’ll make sure you four get tickets to my first game,” Ginny promised. ”You might be able to sit in a top box
with Harry and my family.

”Wicked,” Joseph said, awestruck. ”Top box at an ’Arpies game!”

The whole of Gryffindor House congratulated their team captain and even the Hufflepuff captain congratulated
her. Soon after, an owl from Lee Jordan delivered a note asking for statements from her, and instructions how
to handle Quidditch-related owls. She wrote a statement for Harry to check over before she sent it.
I have loved playing Quidditch from the day I first broke into the shed back home where the family’s ancient
Comets were stored. I enjoy playing for Gryffindor and it's been a dream to play professionally. My favourite
team has always been the Harpies and as I’ve been practising with the them, they have all made me feel
welcome and part of the team. I am proud and happy to have my dream come true—playing for the Holyhead
Harpies next season.

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Ginny Weasley

”Looks good to me, love,” Harry told her, handing the note back. ”It’s short and sweet—like you—and to the
point.”

That November Friday, Harry worked in his office while Ginny and Hermione were still in class. He would be less
strained the next few weeks, since the other DA members were to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry
only had a few lessons with the sixth- and seventh-years. The DA still had lecture periods with Ministry
instructors, namely, Percy Weasley, but now a couple of other officials would be teaching from the Auror Field
Manual. He was engrossed in paperwork when he heard a knock on his door.

”Enter at your own risk,” he said, turning to welcome his unexpected visitor.

The door opened and Draco Malfoy stepped through.

”Malfoy,” Harry asked, with a voice as neutral as possible.

”Potter,” Draco replied.

”I assume this isn't a social visit, but can I offer you some tea or something,” Harry asked.

”Actually some tea would be great. I walked from Hogsmeade and it's really cold,” Draco replied.

Harry conjured a tea service and made tea. He poured a cup for each of them. ”So what brings you to Hogwarts,
Malfoy,” Harry asked not unkindly.

”Let me get straight to the point. First of all my mother asked me to thank you for telling the truth about the
forest. You had no reason to,” Draco said.

”Of course I had a reason to. She was as entitled to a fair trial as anyone. I told them the truth.”

”I’m sure you understand I didn’t enjoy coming here, but you are in fact the only one I can turn to...or trust,”
Draco sighed.

”All right, Draco, what's on your mind?”


”Since the trial and my father’s imprisonment, I'm the head of the Malfoy family. Some of the former followers
of... Tom Riddle... still consider the Malfoys loyal. I was approached yesterday by some middle-hand,
representing some Death Eaters still on the run.”

Harry looked at Draco. He was trying to determine if Draco was lying or not. Draco noticed.

”You can scan me with Legilimency if you don't trust me,” he said. ”I have nothing to hide.”

Harry did and he found no lie in Draco's mind. ”All right, I’m satisfied...unless you're blocking me,” Harry
admitted.

”I was approached to learn about the new Minister and take part in a plot to overthrow him.”

”I can understand your reluctance going to the Ministry to tell them about this,” Harry said. ”But let's say I
believe you. I might be able to convince the Auror Office to look into this. Perhaps you might agree to be a
spy.”

”I might, but my assistance comes with a price.”

”Of course,” Harry said.

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”I want a job. Nothing fancy, but something within the Ministry, so I might have a chance to build a decent
reputation, independent of my father. I realise that I only can do that through hard work.”

”I'll talk to Gawain Robards and Kingsley Shacklebolt and see what can be done,” Harry promised, ”but
ultimately, the decision is theirs.”

”I never believed I would ever tell you this, but thank you, Potter.”

”I'll be in touch...or someone from the Ministry will.”

They nodded to each other, Draco emptied his cup of tea and left. Harry waited until he was sure Draco was
gone. He scribbled a note for Ginny and then headed for Professor McGonagall’s office.
Ginny,
Something really odd happened today. I’m in McGonagall’s office. I’ll explain when I get back.
I love you,
Harry

Harry was soon sitting with Professor McGonagall, telling her about Draco's visit. She suggested they report this
to Kingsley in person, so they Flooed to the Ministry. After waiting a short while, the Minister’s secretary
ushered them in. Harry asked that Gawain Robards be privy to this meeting, so Kingsley sent for him
immediately.

”Harry, you have some important news for us,” Kingsley said.

”Yes, I had a visit today,” Harry said and explained about his visit with Draco Malfoy.

Kingsley and Gawain listened carefully to him. ”You've been at Hogwarts for six years with him. What is your
feeling about this,” Gawain asked Harry.

”Usually, there’s an ulterior motive or a catch when Draco’s acting friendly. He wouldn't settle for a simple job
unless there was something else on his mind. But whether he wants to gain our trust and spy on us, or act as a
double-agent working for us, I can't say for sure. The Draco I know would join the side he considers the
strongest.”

Professor McGonagall agreed with Harry's opinion.

”All right, that leaves us to decide what to do. Let's play along for a while. I think we could offer him a simple
desk job in a low-ranking office. If there indeed is a plot, we need to learn as much as possible. Right now, our
young Mr Malfoy seems to be our only connection. The first thing we need to learn is if there really is a plot. I
will ask to watch his memory of when he was approached in a Pensieve.” Kingsley said. ”I can’t force him, of
course, but if he co-operates, that’s our first clue that his is in earnest.”

”It's maybe best if Harry delivers the message to Draco for us,” Gawain suggested. ”He appears to trust Harry.”

”Yes, it's good if we make it look like Harry's influence made us accept Draco,” Kingsley said.

”If he’s sincere, Harry will look good. If he isn’t, we'll state that Harry was working with us as an operative to
apprehend him,” Kingsley said.

Everyone seemed comfortable with this agreement and Harry soon returned with the headmistress to Hogwarts.
When Harry returned to his room, Ginny was sprawled across the bed reading a Charms book.

”Hi, hot stuff. I got your note. Why were you at the Ministry,” Ginny asked, receiving a kiss. ”Mmm, can I have
some more of that?”

Harry obliged and then told her about the Draco’s visit. Ginny looked at him and Harry got lost in her warm
brown eyes for a moment. The most beautiful witch in the country was Witch Weekly's headline about her. He
couldn't agree more but when he looked at her he also saw her irresistible personality. Her willpower, her
loyalty, her courage. He stroke her cheek and took her hand.

”Did I tell you that I love you today?”

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Ginny smiled and kissed him passionately. ”Oh, a couple of times, but I never tire of hearing it,” she replied.
Even though the words were inadequate, the unspoken something passed through their bond. They couldn’t get
enough.

Harry told her about the resolution to go along with Draco's plan for now. ”So it’s a bit of a game, now,” he
finished. This was a dangerous game he was about to play and he knew she was afraid. A shot of her
apprehension coursed through their bond. ”Don’t worry, love,” Harry said, stroking her cheek with a crooked
finger. ”We’re playing this very close to the vest so nobody, including Malfoy, gets hurt.”

”I know. I guess I need to get used to this, yeah?”

”I’m afraid so, Gin. It goes with Auror territory,” he replied. ”So...did I miss dinner?”

”Yes, but I waited for you. I asked Kreacher to prepare something for us here,” she said and called for him.

”Ginny,” Kreacher said bowing. ”How may I serve you?”

”You can serve our dinner, please,” Ginny said politely.

”Of course, Mis—Ginny,” Kreacher replied and snapped his long crooked fingers. A lovely candlelit dinner of Beef
Wellington and all the trimmings appeared on the table, with a bottle of Sangria wine.

”Thanks, Kreacher, old friend,” Harry said as he held a chair out for Ginny to sit.

”It is nothing, Harry,” Kreacher said. ”Anything for such a good and kind mas—friend, sir.” Kreacher bowed
again and disappeared with a crack!

”Thanks for waiting for me,” Harry said, leaning over to kiss his fiancée. ”I enjoy sharing dinner with you, and
not always eating in the Great Hall.”

”Of course I waited. By the way—I got this letter from Mum today. You read it too.”

”Dear Ginny,
I'm so proud of you. Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies! Of course I'll be nervous every time you play, but I'm so
proud and Dad as well. I would like to ask you and Harry to start talking about your wedding, if you haven't done
so yet. You need to set a date, dear. I want to arrange it for you, and to do so I want to know what kind of
wedding you are thinking of. Big, small, where you want it to be, and so on. Also start to consider your guest list
and what how to handle the publicity. The press will go nuts about your wedding. Do you want a wedding in
Wizarding tradition or does Harry wish some Muggle traditions? It's no hurry, but it would be great to have a plan
formed by Christmas in order to pull off the wedding next summer.
All my love to both of you
Mum”

”Wow, there's really a lot to consider,” Harry said. ”What do you think? For me, getting married to you is quite
enough., but of course I'd enjoy sharing our wedding with our friends and family.”

”Do you want to ask Kingsley to cast the wedding charm,” Ginny asked.

”That would be great if he would agree. What about guests? The Weasleys of course, and that includes
Hermione, your relatives. I guess we'll be murdered if we don't invite Aunt Muriel. I want to invite Dudley and
Penny...and Hagrid of course. And our friends like Neville, Hannah, Luna... But apart from those, the DA? Our
Quidditch team? The Harpies? Representatives from the Auror Office? Hogwarts staff,” Harry said ticking off each
one on his fingers. ”I guess this could get huge. Do we want that? If not, can we avoid it?”

Ginny looked at Harry, thinking about what he said. ”I think we should have the kind of wedding we want. I
guess we must arrange for some kind of representation from the press, but let's give the exclusive rights to The
Quibbler.”

”I like that. I don't want anyone from the Prophet or the Witch Weekly there. Why not Doug Sheldon? By the
way, where is there,” Harry asked.

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”We can invite Doug, I suppose. It’ll give him another story for the Herald. I can only think of two places,
Hogwarts or the Burrow.”

Harry nodded. ”Either would be fine. Hogwarts is bigger and safer, but there's really no place I love more than
the Burrow. Maybe the professors or the Ministry would be willing to provide some stronger wards for the
Burrow? Being Harry ruddy Potter must be good for something.”

Ginny smiled and cuddled up close to Harry. ”And the guest list?” she said ”I'd really like all our friends to be
there.”

”Me too.”

The weekend meant Quidditch against Hufflepuff, a match by whose end Hufflepuff wanted to forget. Ginny and
her Chasers scored a lot. The weather was horrid, with poor visibility, which made it hard for the Seekers. The
match lasted for three hours, but three humiliating hours for Hufflepuff.

When Dennis Creevey finally caught the Snitch, the final score was an astonishing 540 – 30. It was the greatest
margin of victory in House Cup for decades. Harry felt so amazed by the team effort and so proud of Ginny, he
engaged her in a short celebratory snog right there in the center of the pitch, amid cheers and catcalls from the
student body.

After the match, Harry left for the Three Broomsticks, where he met with Draco. The two of them found a quiet
table. ”Nice match today,” Draco said as they sat down.

”Oh, you were there,” Harry asked, mildly surprised.

”I do love the game,” Draco admitted. ”And I thought that since I had to meet with you here in Hogsmeade, I
might as well take in the game beforehand. She’s good, you know.”

Harry had not really thought about Draco being the one to watch a game of Quidditch for fun. ”You know,
Slytherin will probably lose against Gryffindor too. Ginny's team is by far the best this year,” Harry said. ”And
yes, she is good.”
Draco nodded. ”I agree. Please tell her I wish her luck with the Harpies.”

”Blimey, what happened to the arrogant prat I used to know, Malfoy,” Harry smirked.

”Don't push it, Potter,” Draco smirked in return.

”All right, I'll tell her.”

”So I take it you have talked to the Minister,” Draco asked.

”Yes. You’ll be offered a job at the Ministry, probably a pretty boring desk job without any security clearance.”

”I expected something like that. I also suspect they'll keep a close eye on me, trying to decide whether I'm really
on their side.”

”Would you blame them,” Harry asked.

”No, my family name is tainted. I hope learning about this plot and assisting the Ministry in taking it down will
build some trust. I have nothing to gain by the Ministry being overthrown,” Draco concluded.

”All right, let's not waste more of each other’s time. I'm sure we both have things we’d rather be doing right
now. Report to the ministry on Monday,” Harry said. They shook hands and parted.

One of her servants entered her room and she glared at him. ”Well?”

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”The Malfoy boy got a job in the Ministry,” the servant told her.

”That's good..very good.”

”Do you trust him?” he dared ask.

”Of course I don't! Do you take me for a fool,” she snapped. ”He's probably trying to decide which side to support
for now. I don't need his loyalty and I don't care if he's a double-agent loyal to the Ministry. I don't intend to
give him any vital information. He thinks I'm planning to overthrow the Ministry.”

She thought about her own cleverness for a while and then glared at her servant once again. ”If I can feed the
Ministry false information through him, it's good. If they don't believe him, it doesn't really matter. I admit it
would be good having the Ministry focusing on their own safety, but we will pull this off anyway,” she
continued.

”So Malfoy is bait?”

”Bait, misinformation or, a rather interesting Muggle expression I came across, cannon fodder. He'll do as any of
those,” she said coldly.

”Cannon fodder?”

”Yes, in Muggle warfare, they have a device called a cannon that shoots exploding projectiles over great
distances. When you want to hide your true intention, you can send out people to draw fire and let your main
force defeat the enemy, clear of opposition. The ones you send out are cannon fodder.”

”He won't be satisfied meeting our lower-ranking people for long. He is a Malfoy and he will ask to meet you,
whatever his true intentions are.”

”I know. Let me know when he does.”

Chapter 10: A Very Weasley Chistmas


[View Online] [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Chapter 10 – A Very Weasley Christmas

December passed uneventfully, other than the frantic revising Ginny and Hermione had to engage in for their
term finals. Harry had been drilling the DA on their reflexes and finally had to resort to using the Room of
Requirement as a sort of gymnasium for weight training and tumbling exercises. When Harry wasn’t training the
DA, he was training himself while Ginny studied. That way he wasn’t as much of a distraction to her and he
could work off some of his ”nervous energy.” Ginny wasn’t complaining—the workouts were doing him a world of
good and they were looking really good on him. She loved to run her hands over his developing pectoral muscles
and tight abdominals. She considered joining him after the holidays since she was to become a professional
athlete.

Ginny began negotiating her contract a couple of weeks before Christmas. Salary seemed to be the Harpies’
biggest concern. Money meant very little to Ginny, since Harry was comfortably well-off, and since her name
had been added to his accounts, she was more concerned about just playing the game for the sheer love and fun
of it. Her only real concern was time spent with the team versus time spent with Harry. When she wasn’t playing
or practising, she wanted as much time with Harry as she could get. In the middle of the third week,
negotiations were called to a halt until after Christmas. There were no big issues left other than merely
finalising the agreements and signing off on them.

Harry had never felt more relaxed this close to Christmas. There had been less than usual for him to do and the
dueling practice he always had with the DA was mostly fun. The last week before Christmas break, Kingsley
visited unannounced to dueling practice to observe their progress. He asked to speak with Harry privately.
”Harry, how are Occlumency and Legilimency developing?”

”Improving,” Harry said.

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”I guess you are aware of the next task to work on,” Kingsley said gravely.

Harry nodded. ”The Unforgivables. I know. I don’t like it, Kingsley.”

”I know you don’t, Harry, but knowledge, understanding and practical use of them is required. This is, of course,
for Aurors only. There are regulations governing an Auror’s use of them.”

”All three of them?”

”Within very specific regulations all three can be used by Aurors,” Kingsley said.

”You have to mean it, Potter.” Harry heard Bellatrix’s voice in his mind. Harry felt a shudder of despair and
dislike. He had fought for seven years, and yes, he had used two of them, but he had never actually cast the
killing curse. Now the Ministry would teach him how to do it.
But we don’t work for vengeance or hate, we work for justice and right. ”Knowledge and understanding I can
appreciate, but we must learn to cast them with the intention to kill, cause pain, and exert control as well,”
Harry said with an empty voice.

Kingsley nodded. ”Don't worry. It's not as bad as it sounds. Here's your manual concerning them. The text is
under a Fidelius Charm, and since I’ve told you about it, you’ll be able to read it. I know the concept of using the
Unforgivables troubles you, but I must insist that you read that section and learn it. It may come in handy some
day.”

Harry looked at Kingsley and nodded. ”I did use them in the war, Imperio and Crucio, but not the killing curse...
and Merlin knows I’ve had them cast at me,” Harry said and added with a sad grin. ”But those curses are cast in
hatred. I don’t think we could hate enough to want to hurt someone that badly, Death Eater or not. It’s just not
our credo, Kingsley. We’ll gladly learn about them, but I don’t think you could pay any of us enough to use
them.”

Kingsley looked at Harry almost fatherly. ”Maybe this is the wrong time, but on the other hand, I don't think
there's a right time. The Department of Mysteries would like you to write a report about your exact feelings and
sensations getting hit by the killing curse. They want to research the possibility that they might be able to
create a counter-curse.”

”Well, that’s something to hope for anyway,” Harry sighed, slowly shaking his head. ”The thing is, a true desire
and lust to kill can't be countered any other way than with unconditional and selfless love. The only way I can
see someone survive being hit by the killing curse is a total acceptance of death and unconditional love. My
mum had the unconditional love, but feared dying. That killed her but protected me. It's true my mother's
sacrifice still protected me in the forest, but I had also accepted death. I don't know what the Department of
Mysteries can do with that, but you can tell them about it. And yes, afterwards I had a really pounding pain
where I got hit.”

”I'll tell them, Harry. Thank you.”

”How is Draco settling in?” Harry asked.

”Very well, actually. No complaints from his colleagues, he's hard-working, performs his tasks perfectly without
complaint. I'm still trying to decide whether I should be glad or worried.”

Harry grinned. He felt the same way. Was there a new nameless enemy and a plot against the Ministry? Would
some supporter of Riddle still be seeking revenge? His thoughts were interrupted by a crashing sound and he
spun to his feet in an instant with his wand ready. Ginny entered the room with her wand raised. She seemed to
relax when she saw Harry.

”Are you all right, Harry,” she panted.


She must have run all the way from our room. ”Of course I am. I'm just finishing a little chat with the Minister,
love,” Harry sighed and put his wand away.

Ginny realised she had her wand pointed at him. She put it away and threw herself into Harry's embrace. ”What
is it, baby,” Harry asked her.

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”I felt despair...from you...I was afraid something horrible had happened.”

”You felt that? And knew I was still here,” Harry asked.

Ginny nodded and then realised what just had happened. They had never connected to each other at a distance
unintentionally before. They had ended up with Madame Pomfrey as a result of diving into each other’s minds,
but this was something entirely new. Harry felt so many things at once because Ginny had come running top
speed to his rescue, he sent a wave of all of it to her.

”And that too,” she smiled.

”You two are amazing,” Kingsley smiled. ”Well Harry, we’re finished here anyway, so I won't keep you away
from your lovely fiancée any longer.”

Ginny gave Harry a kiss and whispered something into his ear. Harry turned to Kingsley. ”There's one thing we
want to ask you,” Harry said.

”I'm listening.”

”Would you cast the wedding charm for us,” Ginny asked.

”I'm honoured and I would be happy to,” Kingsley replied with a wide grin. He thought for a moment and then
added, ”in your unique case I will allow you, Harry, to share the knowledge concerning Auror usage of the
Unforgivables with Ginny, but only under the strictest of confidence.”

”It will go no further, Minster,” Ginny said. ”I promise.” Ginny didn’t like the sound of it and figured out that that
might be the cause of Harry’s despair. She knew he was going to brood tonight and it was going to take all the
TLC should could muster to bring him out of it.

Harry and Ginny returned to their room talking about the new discovery with their bond. ”Do you think we can
learn to know each other's minds all the time,” Harry asked.

”Maybe,” Ginny said kissing the corners of his mouth and massaging his chest. ”I'd like that.”

”I love being close to you,” Harry said just above a whisper and looking deep into Ginny's eyes ”Emotionally,
mentally, and physically.”

Ginny put one of her warm hands on his cheek. ”I love being close to you too, Harry, but I’m worried,” Ginny
said, biting her bottom lip.

”Worried about what, Love,” Harry replied.

”This business with the Unforgivable curses. That’s what caused you to despair when you were talking to
Kingsley, isn’t it?”

”Yeah. Gin, I don’t like it. He just the same as told me that Aurors can use them legally under certain
circumstances,” Harry said, shaking his head. ”I don’t want my team using them at all, legal or not” Harry’s eyes
darkened and began to glisten.
This isn’t good. ”Did you tell Kingsley that,” she asked. She could tell through their bond that he was headed for
a first-class brood. Her chest hurt with the heaviness of it.

”Of course I did,” Harry snapped. ”I’m sorry, Gin. I didn’t mean...”
”I know, I know,” she soothed him, caressing his raven locks. ”But you can’t let this get to you. If it’s part of the
training program...”

”It is. He gave me this book to read. It’s all about the rules and regulations concerning controlled use of the
Unforgivable curses.” Harry slammed his fist into his own thigh. ”Dammit, Ginny, I already told the DA that
those curses are cast in hate. We don’t hate, Gin! We just don’t...”

There it was. The brood and now the tears. Harry tried to fight back the pain that transferred through their bond
into Ginny. ”Don’t hold it back, my love. Let the frustration out. I can take it,” she said as her heart broke for

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him again.

”Oh gods, Gin! How am I going to teach this to them,” Harry cried into her shoulder. ”I’m going to look like a
hypocrite!”

”No, love. You’re not a hypocrite and your friends all know that. The DA are your friends, Harry. They know you
too well,” she said. ”Harry, look at me.”

Harry ran his hands frantically through his hair. He couldn’t bring himself to look into her loving eyes. She was
so good, so kind, so loving. How could he, a man about to teach his team to cast Unforgivable curses—curses
used to torture, maim, and kill—face such an angel? ”Gin, I...”

”Harry, look at me,” she said louder. ”Torturing yourself isn’t going to make this any easier or make it go away.
You’re going to have to face the Dragon head on and do what you know you have to do. I’ll not think less of you
for it and neither will they. It’s part of the ruddy curriculum so there’s nothing for it. You’ll have to teach it. You
don’t have to like it—hell, you don’t even have to agree with it. You...”

”Gin, I don’t know if I can. I hated Bellatrix for what she did to Sirius and Hermione and Neville’s parents...and
Remus and Tonks. I hated Voldemort for murdering my parents. I hated Barty Crouch Jr for turning that damned
trophy into a Portkey, causing Cedric’s death. I hated Wormtail for his betrayal of my parents and the Order and
sent Sirius to Azkaban. I hated Amycus Carrow for nearly killing Professor McGonagall in Ravenclaw tower the
night of the battle. I crucioed him to keep him from killing her and torturing a lot of innocent students…and I felt
good about it at the time! I even said that…that Bellatrix was right!” Harry began to sob, with the shame he
harboured for that hatred coursing through the bond into Ginny.

”But they’re all gone, my darling Harry,” Ginny reasoned. ”That part of your life is over.”

”Exactly, Ginny. They’re all gone and the hate’s gone with them. All that’s left is...regret, emptiness—emptiness
that only your love can fill,” he sobbed. ”I can’t stand the thought of you being so disgusted with me over even
knowing how to use those curses that you’ll walk away. Ginny, I couldn’t live...”

Ginny placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled it up so she could look straight into his red and
swollen eyes. ”Now you listen to me, Mr Chosen Boy-Who-Lived Harry James Potter! I will never walk away from
you. I will never be disgusted with you. I know you and I know your heart. You are nothing like Bellatrix or
Voldemort or bloody Barty Crouch Jr. You are Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter. You are full of their
love and bravery and goodness and I love you. The anguish you’re going through right now—the anguish that
I’m feeling right along with you—tells me that even though you will learn and know those horrible curses inside
and out, you would never—NEVER—use them!”

”But Gin, I did use...”

”You tried to use the Cruciatus curse. Harry, I know that, but you couldn’t make it work. Why is that?”

”Bellatrix said I had to mean it,” Harry sniffed. ”Merlin, Gin! How can anyone mean something like that? I can’t
imagine...”

”Exactly, Harry. And there’s the answer to your dilemma. You can’t perform those curses because you can’t
imagine hating that much, but above all...you have a conscience. Who you are won’t allow you to use those
curses. You’re just too damned noble—and that’s something I always loved about you,” Ginny confessed, tears
streaming down her face. ”When you rescued me from the Chamber of Secrets, you became—for good and
all—my Knight in Shining Armor. You could have followed school rules and left my fate in the hands of Tom
Riddle. But no! You and my hard-nosed brother broke every bloody rule in the book—risking expulsion, let alone
your lives—and came looking for me. You, and you alone fought off a 60-foot monster to save my life, damn
near dying in the process, while Ron had to babysit Lockhart. No one with that kind of noble courage could ever
cast an Unforgivable curse on another creature, human or otherwise, because it’s just not who you are.”

”It always sounds better than it is,” Harry said darkly. ”Gin, I’m not sinless. I make mistakes. Look at the whole
Department of Mysteries fiasco...”

”Harry, you were led to believe that Sirius was under torture. Your love for him and your hatred for Voldemort
drove you to want to save him,” Ginny said forcefully. ”Our decision to come with you was just that...our

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decision. As I remember it, you tried to talk us all into staying at Hogwarts while you went alone. I loved you so
much then, I couldn’t let you go alone. Ron and Hermione sure as hell weren’t going to let you go alone—you’d
been through too much together. Neville and Luna were firmly ensconced in the DA and they weren’t going to
let you go alone. Teamwork means a lot to him, Harry. We went with you because we wanted to—because we
knew before you did that you needed us.”

Harry and Ginny broke down together and cried until there were no tears left. ”Ginny, what would I do without
you? How could I get through this stuff without you there acting as my conscience and giving me your strength?
I love you so much...” Harry held her in a tight embrace and buried his tear-stained face in her hair. Her scent
comforted him as she wrapped him in her love. They sat there like that for what seemed like hours, but only
minutes had passed.

”All right now, love. Let’s get ready for bed. We’ve both had a very long day,” Ginny cooed, rubbing his back.

”I don’t want to let go,” Harry mumbled. ”I’m afraid, Gin.”

”It’ll just be long enough to get undressed and into the bed. Then you can hold on to me all night, okay?”

”Okay,” Harry sniffed again, reluctantly letting go.


He’s still that scared little boy looking for the platform at King’s Cross Station. Ginny helped him undress and
they climbed into bed together. ”Come here, my raven boy,” she said softly. ”Rest your head, now. That’s right.
Just relax and go to sleep. I’m here and I’ll never leave you.” She sent a gentle burst of love through their bond
and kissed his furrowed brow. He returned her love and wrapped his arm around her waist. They were both
asleep in a matter of minutes.

”Harry.” There was that voice again, cutting through the fog. ”Harry, wake up, you!” A musical laugh, a warm
touch. ”Harry, we’re going to be late and you know how Hermione hates to be late.”
Bollocks. ”Okay, ’M up, ’m up,” Harry protested, covered his head with his pillow and mumbled something
completely incoherent.

”Harry James Pot...”

”All right, already,” Harry groaned and rolled over.”You spoiled a wonderful dr...dream.” Harry sat up and
stretched, the developing muscles of his chest and torso rippling as he reached for the ceiling while Ginny stood
there smirking.”There was this beautiful redhead with the most glorious chocolate brown eyes...oh wait, it’s not
a dream. She’s right here,” he laughed and pulled her onto the bed with him.

Ginny shrieked as he pulled her off balance, giggling. ”Flattery will get you everywhere,” she said as he pinned
her to himself in his embrace. ”But we don’t have time right now. We’re...”

”I know. We’re going to be late and Hermione hates to be late,” Harry said with mock disappointment.
”Especially where your youngest big brother is concerned.”

”C’mon then, love. Mum’s liable to have kittens if we don’t arrive at the exact moment she expects us. Besides,
Professor McGonagall has graciously given us leave...”

”To leave...by Floo...from...her office,” Harry finished between kisses. ”Now get off me, woman, so I can shower
and get dressed. We mustn’t keep Her Anxiousness waiting.”

Ginny slid off him and set to finalising the packing. ”I’ve packed for you,” she shouted over the water. ”All you
need to grab is your kit!”

”What?”

Ginny sighed and walked into the bathroom. ”I said I’ve packed for you and that all you’ll need to grab is your
kit.”

Harry finished rinsing his hair. ”Oh okay, great. Did you pack my black trousers and jacket?”

”Yes. I kind of thought you might like something a little dressy...just in case. I also packed our matching
nightshirt and pajama bottoms. Mum ought to get a charge out of that on Christmas morning,” Ginny said with a

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wicked grin.

”Oh yeah, she’ll love it,” Harry laughed, turning off the water. ”Me, bare-chested and you in an oversized
pajama shirt and your knickers. I can hear it all now.” Harry launched into a mock impersonisation of his
surrogate mother. ”Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley! What do you mean coming down those stairs
in that state! For crying out loud, cover yourselves!”

”Who knows? She might like what she sees,” Ginny smirked. ”I know I do!” The two of them stood there in the
bathroom, laughing like hyenas when a knock came at the door. ”Uh oh...” Ginny said, collecting herself. ”It’s
Her Anxiousness.”

”You better get it. I’ll be ready in a tick,” Harry warned.

”You’re not ready yet,” Hermione all but shrieked. ”We’re due in Professor McGonagall’s office in fifteen
minutes.”

”Harry’s just getting dressed. I’d suggest you stay right here until he gives the all clear. He’s not wearing
anything but a towel and that’s going to have to come off. I’ll be right back,” Ginny said with a wicked smile as
she turned back toward to bedchamber.

”Hurry up,” Hermione called, bouncing on the balls of her feet. I haven’t seen Ron for more than a week.

Soon, Harry and Ginny reappeared, trunks and brooms in hand. ”It’s about time,” Hermione huffed. ”We’ve got
five minutes, so let’s move it.”

”Your every wish is my command, Your Anxiousness,” Harry laughed.

”Stuff it, Potter. If we’re late, you can deal with Molly...not to mention Professor McGonagall.”

”My, my. Someone got up surly this morning,” Ginny teased. ”Oh wait. She hasn’t seen Won-Won in over a
week. I think we’re more than anxious.”

”Just come on,” Hermione said in mock indignation. ”And stop calling him that! Besides...you’re right...but I
wasn’t surly until I had to deal with you two this morning.”

The good-natured banter continued as Harry, Ginny, and Hermione made their way to the headmistress’ office,
dragging their trunks behind them. ”Tartan,” Harry said to the gargoyle. It leapt aside, revealing the steps
leading to the office.

Hermione knocked on the door. ”Professor?”

”Good morning, Miss Granger, Mr Potter, Miss Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said once they had all come into
the office. ”You’re ready to Floo to the Burrow, are you?”

”Yes, Professor,” Ginny replied. ”Mum’s probably about to have kittens. We’re running a bit late this morning
because waking Harry is like waking the dead.”

The headmistress looked at Harry and smiled. ”Having a lie-in, Mr Potter?”

”Well...er...I was...” Harry stammered.

”A nice dream, was it,” Professor McGonagall giggled uncharacteristically. Ginny and Hermione joined the
headmistress in a good chuckle at Harry’s expense.Women. Harry shot a narrow glance at his fiancée and her
best friend. ”Shut it, you two! Don’t you think we should be off? We wouldn’t want Molly to drop a litter right in
the kitchen,” Harry smirked.

They were all laughing as they bid the headmistress, ”Happy Christmas.” Harry stepped in first with the two
trunks and disappeared in a whoosh of green flame. Hermione followed with her trunk, with Ginny bringing up
the rear with the Firebolts. ”The Burrow!”

”Welcome dears,” Molly cried and squeezed the air out of their lungs with bone-shattering hugs.

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Arthur welcomed them heartily, giving Ginny and Hermione hugs and shaking Harry's hand before giving him
the pat-on-the-back kind of hug men are allowed to give one another.

”It's been so empty here. Of course, Ron visits every now and then, George has been here with Katie, Bill and
Fleur of course too, and Percy, but you know... it's not the same as having you all here together.” Molly said,
dabbing at tear with her apron. ”Now dears, brunch is ready. Tuck in!”

”Mum,” Ginny protested. ”They do feed us at Hogwarts, you know.”

”I know they do, but this is just some scones with jam and tea.”

”Enough to feed a starving army,” Ginny snickered under her breath.

Harry dragged his and Ginny’s trunks toward the stairs. ”I’ll just take these to our room, shall I?”

”Nonsense, my boy. Eat first. The trunks can wait. In fact, I’ll help you with those—and Hermione’s—after we’ve
eaten,” Arthur said, steering Harry back toward the table by the shoulder. He patted his future son-in-law and
made to push him down onto a seat at the table, when he squeezed the younger man’s shoulder. ”Harry, son.
Are you putting on weight?

A grin stole across Harry’s face as he looked up at Ginny and winked. ”Some, sir. Yes. I’ve gotten a bit out of
shape, so I train with the Gryffindors...with Ginny’s permission, that is.”

”And he’s working out with the DA—weights and everything,” Ginny added proudly. Growl.

”Really! And just what are you doing? I’ve gone a little soft...”

”Arthur Weasley, don’t even think about it! All you’d need is to pick up one of those things and
pull...something,” Molly scolded, reddening. The others seated at the table buried their faces in their hands,
shaking with silent laughter. ”But Harry, dear, you really look much healthier than I’ve seen you in a long time,”
she added with an appreciative glint in her eyes.
Oh my gods, my mum’s flirting. ”Thanks, Molly,” Harry said, stealing a glance at the woman’s husband.
”Um...er...I could show Arthur how to do it right so he doesn’t hurt himself.”

”See, Mollywobbles? I’ll be fine, and when I’m through, I’ll be fit and fine,” Arthur boomed, flexing a slightly
flabby bicep and putting on airs as if he were Mr Universe.
”Well, sir, that would take some time, you see. You have to start off slowly, a little at a time...” Harry stopped
talking when thunder seemed to rumble from the staircase. ”Morning, mate!”

Ron, who had arrived a few hours earlier, bounded down the stairs and strode quickly into the kitchen, having
heard the noise and Harry’s voice. Halfway to the scones, he stopped. Lavender and vanilla. Hermione. He
turned and locked his blue eyes on the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

”Hey you,” she said softly and shyly.

”I've missed you,” he said and took her in a firm embrace. The Burrow and everyone in it disappeared as he
claimed her lips in a passionate kiss.

”So I am more important than food,” Hermione grinned dizzily, a bit weak in the knees.

Ron looked at her. ”Harry, what do you reckon? Surely the girlfriend tops some tea and scones, but a full dinner,
like the one on Christmas Day...”

”I prefer to share that dinner with Ginny,” Harry said taking her hand and raising it to his lips.

”Ronald Weasley,” Hermione sighed. ”If your brain were as big as your appetite you'd be the smartest wizard in
the world. At this point, you’re just the smarmiest wizard in the world.”

”Ah yes, but you love me anyway and...”

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”And I wouldn’t have you any other way,” she finished, kissing his cheek. And I will have you, Ronald Bilius
Weasley. Just you wait.

Over scones and jam, Ron told them about the Christmas specials at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. He presented a
colorfully-wrapped piece of candy. ”This is Carol's Candy,” Ron said showing off different sorts. ”Eat one and you
can sing a Christmas carol with a remarkable singing voice. It took a while to make them last the entire song,
though. Our first attempts were a disaster. In the middle of the song the voice died and you sang with your own
voice again.”

”It couldn’t have been too bad for you, though, Ron,” Hermione interjected. ”You have a fine...”

”What’s this,” Harry asked, suddenly interested in his surrogate sister. ”Ron sings?”

”’Mione...” Ron groaned.

”Yes, he does, and he has a beautiful voice,” Hermione answered in Ron’s defense.

”Is that so,” Harry smirked.

”Yes, Harry. Ron can sing,” Ginny said, coming to her brother’s rescue. ”I was sworn to secrecy, but since
Hermione let the Kneazle out of the bag...”

”Ginny, no,” Ron said, giving her a warning leer. ”I...”

”Ron, it’s all right. From all I’ve ever heard, women melt when men sing to them,” Harry said, still snickering.
He turned to Ginny, just in time to catch her ogling him. ”Forget it, Love. It’s horrible. I can’t sing. You’ll just
have to settle for my dashing good looks.”

”I don’t settle. And I like your dashing good looks, your disarming Potter charm, your...” she smiled wickedly,
walking two fingers up his arm to his shoulder.

”Uh...since Kneazles have been escaping bags,” Ron began slyly, staring at his sister. ”Ginny’s been heard to
warble a bit herself, eh Harry?”

Harry fixed his gleaming emerald eyes on his fiancée. ”So that wasn’t the wireless playing when you were in the
shower the other night?”

Ginny’s face went crimson. ”I didn’t know you were there! You didn’t say anything...”

”Because I thought it was the wireless, Love. If I’d known that was you, I’d have had you singing me to
sleep...and waking up...and every possible moment in between,” he confessed looking around the table. ”I had
no idea until then.”

”Well, I don’t know what you’re so embarrassed about. I’d give anything to be able to sing,” Hermione said
pointedly. ”I have absolutely no artistic talent whatsoever.”

”No, but you’re only the smartest witch on the planet,” Ron complimented her as he put his arm around the back
of her chair. ”But since you want to sing so much, try one of these out.” Ron handed her a Carol’s Candy and
she took it. As soon as she swallowed it, she began to sing Deck the Halls as though she were born to it..

”Wow, that was beautiful,” Ginny said.

”We’ve sold a lot of Carol's Candy,” Ron said. ”And this,” he continued, ”is one of our top-selling gift items for
Christmas.” He showed them a labyrinth game. It was like the Muggle hand-held game, at which the player rolls
a little ball through a maze by tilting the game back and forth. But the maze changed every now and then in
this version. In addition, there were spells that transfigured the ball into a cube and small monsters, like the
ones in wizards chess, lurked about trying to eat the ball.

”It looks like fun, son,” Arthur said, reaching for the game. ”May I?”

”Go ahead, Dad. Let’s see what you can do with it,” Ron replied handing it over. ”And it has a anti-cheating

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charm on it. If you try to use magic to improve your game a Weasley version of the dungbomb goes off and
those little monsters will yell, Cheater! at you until you figure out how to reveal the hidden text in the
instructions to reset the game.”

”That thing will haunt Mr Filch’s every nightmare next term,” Ginny laughed.

”We can always hope,” Ron grinned. ”But our real masterpiece is this Funny Floo Powder.” He showed them
containers of something that looked like Floo powder.

”What does that do,” Harry asked dubiously.


”It's just for harmless pranks. You add this to real Floo powder, so when you Floo, one of several interesting
effects might...er...affect you. The tickling effect gives you or your victim the sensation of being mercilessly
tickled during the trip. Somebody’s laughter is guaranteed.”

”Don’t even think about it, Potter,” Ginny warned. She could feel his impish nature through their bond, even
though he tried to look innocent.

”What,” Harry asked in mock surprise. ”I was actually thinking about leaving some of that in Kingsley’s Floo
powder supply.”

”Don’t you dare, young man,” Molly scolded good-naturedly.

”Oh I don’t know, Molly,” Arthur said, coming to Harry’s defense. ”Kingsley’s a good sport and he’s got an
infectious laugh.”

”That’s what I’m afraid of. Infection,” she muttered. ”Go on, Ron.”

”Another one is the arse kick effect. When you exit the Floo, you get a friendly kick in the pants sending you out
of the Floo a little quicker than normal.”

”Harry could appreciate that one,” Hermione giggled.

”Thanks, Hermione. I love you too,” Harry replied with mock hurt on his face.

”George's favourite is the spinning effect. Once out of the Floo, you feel quite dizzy, but the funniest by far is
the clothes transfiguration effect. You enter the Floo dressed normally, but you exit with your clothes
transfigured into something much more fun.”

”Ron, this one wasn’t inspired by...” Harry began.

”Neville, yes. Remember the Boggart lesson third year,” Ron asked Harry.

”Oh yeah!” Harry was already doubled-up laughing.

”So let us in on the joke,” Ginny demanded.

”Go ahead, Harry. You tell it better,” Ron urged.

”Okay,” Harry began, trying to collect himself. ”Remus was our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor that
year and one of the first things he taught us about was Boggarts. He had managed to trap one in an old
wardrobe and hid it in an empty classroom. One day, he took us all in there to teach us Riddikulus,” Harry began
to break up again. Hermione had to bury her face in Ron’s shoulder as she shook with mirth. ”Anyway, Remus
called on Neville first. Now, you know Neville—at least then—so shy and all. He asked Neville what he was most
afraid of.”

”Snape,” Ron said, trying to contain himself. ”Neville was terrified of Professor Snape.”

”So Remus told him that that’s the shape the Boggart would take when it came at him out of the wardrobe. Then
he asked Neville to think about his gran,” Harry began to howl.
”Wait, Neville’s gran...is she that old biddy with the vulture hat and the huge handbag,” Ginny asked.

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”That’s Augusta Longbottom,” Arthur cottoned on and joined in the laughter. ”He didn’t...” he said looking at
Ron, who, by now had tears rolling down his face.

”He did!” Ron and Hermione had fallen all over one another.

”He did what,” Molly demanded, looking at an equally clueless Ginny.

”Remus opened the wardrobe and...” Harry snickered again. ”And...Snape climbed out. Neville looked like he
was going to faint. Remus coached him about Riddikulus while the Boggart-Snape came nearer and nearer to
Neville. All at once, Neville raised his wand, shaking like a leaf on the Whomping Willow, and cast the charm.”
Harry couldn’t contain himself, he was so caught up in the gales of laughter issuing from Arthur, Ron, and
Hermione.

”So what happened,” Ginny cried in frustration. ”Harry, tell us what’s so funny!” She sent a burst of mild
frustration through their bond, even though she had begun to giggle a bit at Harry’s mirth as it flowed to her.

”Okay, Love, okay. Hold your Hippogriffs,” Harry said, calming. ”When Neville cast that charm, the
Boggart-Snape spun around...” Harry choked on the laughter that he had to hold back for a few more seconds.
”The Boggart-Snape spun around and found itself dressed in Mrs Longbottom’s lacy old dress and that god-awful
hat, holding that stupid handbag. I’d never seen Neville laugh so hard!”

Molly began to scream with laughter. ”You mean to tell me that that Boggart looked like Severus Snape in
Augusta Longbottom’s clothes?”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione could only nod because they couldn’t breathe for the laughter. ”Oh. My. Gods,” Ginny
cried. ”No way! Now every time I see that painting in McGonagall’s office, I’m going to see...to see...” She
collapsed on Harry’s shoulder, giddy with laughter.

”I’ll bet Remus got a right charge of out that,” Arthur said, wiping tears from his eyes. ”Eh, Molly?”

”I think Sirius would have enjoyed it immensely,” she said. Then she looked apprehensively at Harry. Oops.

Harry seemed to notice Molly’s embarrassed gaze. ”I wish I’d thought to hell him about that,” Harry said, still
chuckling. ”He would have loved it! Hell, he’d have tried to pin a medal on Neville just for the glory if it!” Harry
broke into fits of laughter again
Way to go, my raven boy. You’re going to be all right after all. ”I can see it all now—Neville Longbottom, for your
meritorious service against foul gits, I award you the Distinguished Pranksters’ Cross,” Ginny proclaimed on
Sirius’ behalf. Ron saluted and they broke into new gales of laughter.

Once the howls and screams of laughter faded and they’d all collected themselves, Molly’s eyes went stern, but
twinkling. ”Let me tell you,” Molly said.”If one of you adds that to our Floo powder, you will see what an arse
kick effect is really about.”

After brunch, Arthur and the boys hauled trunks and brooms upstairs and deposited them in their proper rooms.
Harry and Ginny set to moving themselves in for the couple of weeks they’d be there and then collapsed on the
bed for a quick nap. The laughter had worn them out and they wanted to be alert when the rest of the family
arrived.

”It always feels good to laugh,” Harry said, taking Ginny in his arms. ”After our discussion the other night, I feel
like I can begin to let go a bit.”

”I’ll have to admit I was a little worried there for a moment when Mum mentioned Sirius,” Ginny said, tracing
circles on Harry’s chest. ”I thought you might break.”

”I almost did, but I felt the burst you sent to me and I just...” Harry couldn’t find the words. ”She’d just sent him
another wave of the unspoken thing.

”You handled it beautifully, my love. Sirius would want you to remember him as the sly old dog he was,” she
said smirking.

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”Good old Snuffles,” Harry said as he pulled her closer for a kiss. ”Sweet dreams, my only love.”

”They’re the only dreams I have when I’m in your arms.”

”Ron,” Hermione giggled when they were finally alone in his room. ”Can a girl get settled first?”

”Let me settle you,” Ron said, burying his face in her bushy brown hair. ”You’re all I’ve thought about all week.
Your hair, your lips, your eyes, your...”

”I get the picture, you,” Hermione giggled again. ”Just let me finish putting my things away and you can...how
did you say it...settle me?”

”Can I help,” he asked, his sapphire eyes already turning cobalt as he gazed at her greedily. ”Where does this
go,” he asked, holding up several pairs of her knickers.

”Prat,” she said cheekily. ”In the bottom drawer with yours, you loon.”

Ron about collapsed on the spot. She wanted to store her lacy little knickers with his boxers. That’s so hot,
’Mione. He couldn’t wait until she was finished unpacking. He crossed over to his dresser and slid open the
bottom drawer. Wow. He looked back at the pile of lace in his hands and then shoved his cotton boxers aside to
make room for Hermione’s delicates.

”Here Ron,” she said breaking his reverie. ”Put these in there with them.”

Ron turned around to find Hermione handing him the matching bras and a couple of camisoles. He gulped.
”Uh...erm...right. Sure,” he said as he glanced southward. Damn, I’ll bet she noticed, too. He turned to place the
delicate garments into the drawer with the others, closed the drawer, and stood up straight. ”’Mione, is that...”

A pair of gentle hands wrapped around his waist and a soft cheek nuzzled against his back. ”I’m ready to
be...settled now,” Hermione purred, running her hands across his tight stomach. All that lifting and carrying has
certainly paid off.

Ron growled and turned to face her, crushing her in his arms. He captured her lips and tongue in a searing kiss.
”You drive me mad,” he growled into her mouth. He pulled his wand from his back pocket and cast an
imperturbable charm on his bedroom door. ”I love you. I must have you.”

”Take me, my ginger god,” she moaned. ”I’m yours.” She wrapped her legs around Ron’s waist as he lifted her
lithe body off the floor and deposited her on the bed. ”I love you, Ronald Bilius Weasley. I’ve missed you so
much,” she whimpered as his hands began to wander.

”’Mione,” he whispered. Their passion exploded all around them and the world melted into nothingness.

Shortly before dinner, the fireplace erupted in a whoosh of green flames as Bill stepped out. He and Fleur were
the last to arrive, since George, Percy, and Charlie Flooed in at various times throughout the afternoon while
their younger siblings napped.

”Bill,” Molly cried, attacking her eldest son with hugs and kisses. ”I haven't seen you in well over a month!” The
others shouted out their greetings, some hugging, some backslapping.

Bill raised his hands to silence the din. ”That's right, Mum. We have something to tell you all, but let's just wait
for Fleur. I’m sure that when she does everything will explain itself.”

Less than a minute of total silence later, Fleur arrived in another whoosh of green flame.

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”So,” Molly said looking around for the promised explanation.

Hermione had her eyes on Fleur. ”Fleur, you're not...”

Now everyone looked at Fleur and noticed a hint of a expanding belly under her loose dress.

”Oui. I am,” she replied, her beautiful face splitting into a toothy smile.

Molly still didn't understand and a dangerous look set into her eyes.

”Mum, you'll be a grandmother in May,” Bill said, realising his mother hadn’t caught on. The Weasley
assemblage broke into a cacophony of cheers and congratulations.

”So when did you know,” Molly asked Fleur.

”We were sure zee end of October, but we decided to keep it to ourselves until today so we could tell you all
togezzer.”

Arthur produced a bottle of Firewhiskey and poured everyone but Fleur a glass. Fleur accepted a cold glass of
fresh pumpkin juice. ”To Bill, Fleur, and my first grandchild,” Arthur said beaming with pride. ”Slaínte!” They all
replied and drank, exhaling the mandatory aaahhh, afterward.

”We have so much to look forward to in 1999! You two becoming parents,” Molly said and turned to Harry and
Ginny. ”And you two getting married...to each other!” Molly sighed happily.

Bill looked at his sister. ”By the way, congratulations on your contract, Sis. Chaser for the Harpies! I'm so proud
of you, Pumpkin.”

”Thanks, Bill,” Ginny said, hugging her big brother around the waist.

Arthur poured another round of Firewhiskey. ”We are all very proud of you, Ginny. We know you’ve supported
the Harpies since you were small. So now, to their new Chaser—Slaínte!” The family returned the toast and they
all emptied their glasses.

”Congratulations, Gorgeous Girl,” Harry whispered, kissing her temple.

Molly walked over to her husband and gave him a kiss on the cheek. ”We are truly blessed, aren’t we, Arty,” she
whispered.

”That we are, Mollywobbles. That we are,” he replied as his wife took the bottle out of his hand. She banished it
to its proper cabinet muttering something about it being the best thing before Arthur became toast-happy and
began to invent things to drink to and have them all properly pissed on their first evening together as a family
in a very long time.

Harry gazed stupidly at Ginny, as he began to feel the effects of the Firewhiskey. Yes, two toasts were definitely
enough, thank you. Without paying attention, he took a piece of candy from a dish that he’d been passed. He
opened it and popped it into his mouth. He no sooner than swallowed it when he burst into song, singing some
Christmas carol he’d never heard before. When he finished, the entire clan stared at him in utter disbelief,
except for Ron and George who were literally dying of laughter.

”Zat was amazing,” Fleur said.

”I didn't know you sang, Harry” Charlie said.

Harry looked at George and Ron, his eyes telling them that he could really spill the beans if they didn’t clam up.
”Ask those two about it,” Harry said, having made himself abundantly clear to at least Ron. ”And I hope you
enjoyed it, because you’ll never hear it again.”

George explained to his family about Carol's Candy. The love and laughter of the opening night of the annual
Weasley Christmas Celebration continued well into the evening. Charlie played with the Labyrinth game and

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soon became hooked on it, but complained that there were no Dragons.

”We did have a couple in an earlier version, but they kept setting fire to the game. Somehow we couldn't
combine a fire-resisting spell with all the others, because when we cast it, it always backfired and reduced the
whole thing to ashes in an instant,” George explained.

Late that night, the Weasley assemblage began to feel the effects of a very long enjoyable day. Amid stretches
and yawns, the family hugged one another goodnight filtered into their assigned sleeping quarters. Harry and
Ginny, cuddled up in her yet-again enlarged bed, decided to read from Lily's diary again. They hadn't read from
it for a while, but this night seemed the perfect night to resume their old ritual. Harry opened the diary to read
the next entry.

”24 June 1978


Today James did it! He proposed! Of course in a very James-esque way, but I wouldn't have had it any other
way. James Apparated me to a beautiful spot for a picnic. I must remember to ask him where we were. Anyway,
after lunch, he handed me a locked box. It had a jumble of letters that made no sense on top of it.

’It's a puzzle, Lils. To open it, you must arrange the letters in the proper order,’ James told me. So I stared at
them, hoping that if I stared long enough, the letters might rearrange themselves for me. But no. I turned the
box around in my hands, thinking I might make some sense of out those blasted letters that way. No. It still
made no sense to me at all. Of course, James was enjoying every minute of my frustration. But I could also tell
he was dying for me to solve the puzzle.
'YLMRULIROIEMWALYY?' it said. He let me work it for an hour before I finally got it to 'WILL YOU MARRY ME
LILY?' I was dumbstruck. He looked so hopeful. I took his handsome face in my hands and kissed him soundly on
the mouth. ”I’d love to marry you,” I told him. When I said that, the tiny lock clicked and the box opened. Inside
was this beautiful ring—a gold ring with a flawless deep green emerald. He picked it up and put it on my finger as
he kissed me. I’m engaged to James Potter! I don't know what else to write today, I'm so happy.”

Ginny sighed and studied the ring Harry had placed on her finger much the same way his father had placed it on
his mother’s. It was incredible to learn a little about its history. As Lily had done, she took Harry’s face in her
hands and kissed him passionately. ”Your dad really was a prankster. He couldn't even propose without making a
bit of a joke of it,” Ginny smiled.

”It seems to be pretty much the way he did things,” Harry said. ”Let's read on.”

”25 June 1978


Today we broke the news to our parents. We Apparated to my parent’s first. To our surprise, Petunia was there
and she had a boyfriend with her. We gave them quite a scare popping into the living room out of nothing. My
mum told me they had been together for a couple of months, but Petunia didn't want me to know about it until
she could tell me in person. Her boyfriend is called Vernon Dursley. I must confess I didn't really like him. My dad
explained to Vernon that James and I are magical people and that is why we showed up the way we did.
Mum and dad are overjoyed about our engagement. We all had lunch together before we left for James' parents’.
Sirius was there too, of course, and when we told them about the engagement, they wanted to know all the
details. Mr Potter was delighted to see the ring on my finger. 'You gave her my mother's ring I see,' he said to
James. I looked at James and he told me the ring was an old Potter family heirloom.
Somewhere along the line of Potter men, one had given this ring to his bride. For centuries, it had stayed in the
family. I couldn't begin to express what I felt then and how wearing it makes me feel now, but I’ll try. I love the
way James didn't make a big deal about the ring being this unique heirloom. I can't think of a better way for him
to propose, even though I should curse him for letting me work that puzzle for a solid hour. Hearing his dad tell
me about the ring made my knees shake. I asked James if he'd ever planned on telling me about it himself. He
shrugged 'If you hadn't learned before the wedding I would have, but I knew dad would tell you.' I absolutely love
James and I'll treasure this ring every day for the rest of our lives.
Sirius and James left for a few hours in the evening 'having urgent business to discuss'. That probably meant
browsing the Firewhiskey assortment at the Three Broomsticks because their collective breath would wake the
dead when they returned. I asked what urgent business they had discussed. 'My stag night, engagement
celebration party, Sirius-being-my-best-man-party, cheering-up-Moony-and-Wormtail-not-being-my-best-
man-party...' They were both obviously smashed, so I told them to shut up. And by the way, Remus and Peter
would probably expect Sirius to be James' best man anyway. Both of them totally agreed, but also thought it was
a good idea to throw a party. I shook my head. They are such little... boys... sometimes.”

”Merlin, I didn't know the ring was that old,” Harry said, his eyes fixed on Ginny’s. ”It just makes me value you

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all the more.”

”I love reading this diary,” Ginny said. ”I'm looking forward to reading about their wedding, when Lily finds out
she's expecting you, and what she writes after giving birth.”

”Me too. Do you think we'll have a family one day,” Harry asked, swallowing back new tears.

”I hope so Harry. I grew up in a big family. Maybe seven children is a little more than I imagine for myself,
though. I'm not my mum, but I do want a couple of children.”

”Me too, love. Me too,” Harry whispered as they kissed each other softly and faded off to sleep.

The next day found Harry and Ron headed for Diagon Alley. Hermione and Ginny had gone earlier to do some
holiday shopping without them, which was fine with the boys because they needed to do the same.

”First stop, Gringotts,” Harry told Ron as they walked up the crowded street.

”Need more money,” Ron asked.

”No, but I need to go through all my stuff in the Potter vault, and since I'm here... You don't have to come with
me if you don’t want to, but I'd sure appreciate the company,” Harry replied.

”Of course I'll come with you,” Ron agreed as they ascended the white stone steps to the bank. Ron gasped
when he saw the contents of Harry's vault. Harry's wealth had increased by several percent over the last six
months. Peace had increased business and the goblins invested Harry's money wisely, making a tidy profit for
him. It was a good business for the goblins too, since they earned a small percentage of whatever profits they
made for him.

”I know, Ron. It's a ridiculous amount of money. And I make more money than I spend. But I was going to look
at my estates today. I want to have some idea of exactly what buildings and what land I own.”

They started to read through the deeds and contracts covering the Potter family estate. All of the Black estates
were added too but lay in a different file on a different set of parchments.

”You are disgustingly rich, Harry,” Ron grinned.

”Half of this is Ginny's. After our engagement, I added her name to the vault,” Harry replied.

”Making her the richest ever in the Weasley family,” Ron said looking over a parchment. ”Bloody hell!”

”What is it Ron?”

”Did you know you own the Burrow?”

”What? Don't your parents own it,” Harry asked in a near-panic.

”Well, the house is theirs, but you own the land it's on. Read the deed for yourself, along with the contract my
parents signed renting the land,” Ron said, handing Harry the parchment he’d been reading.

Harry read the deed and the contract. Bloody hell was right. The Potter family owned a lot of land in the
Ottery-St Catchpole area. Before Bill was born, Arthur and Molly Weasley had rented a piece of land and built
the Burrow. The owner of the Burrow had the right to rent the land for as long as they lived there. Harry felt
ashamed. Arthur and Molly Weasley have been paying rent to me every month and I never knew. Ron seemed to
read Harry's mind, but the glistening in Harry’s eyes and the slight quiver of his bottom lip said it all.

”Hey there, brother, don't feel bad about it. You couldn't possibly have known you owned it,” Ron said putting
one of his large hands on his friend’s shoulder. ”And I'm sure Mum and Dad don't know either. They told us they
rent the land, but they have always dealt with the goblins. All they know is that the owners of the land are a
Wizarding family. They have always been happy to rent the land for a low price, and there hasn't been a raise in
rent since Fred and George were born.”

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”About the time my grandparents died, I think. James never had any real chance to deal with family business,”
Harry said. ”Well, it's time for some changes, my friend.” Harry called the Goblin who assisted them. ”Look, I
want to transfer the deed to this of land to Arthur and Molly Weasley, but I'd like the transfer to occur the
moment Mr and Mrs Weasley open the deed.”

”Certainly, Mr Potter” the goblin said, asking Harry to sign a parchment. Harry signed it and the goblin
performed a series of spells before handing an envelope to Harry. ”There you go, Mr Potter. Everything is
prepared. The moment Mr and Mrs Weasley open this envelope, the land is irrevocably theirs.”

Ron stared at his friend in amazement. ”I can't believe you just did that.”

”Why not? It's not exactly like I need their rent to survive. Now that I know about this, I can’t and I won't accept
another Galleon from them. In fact I'd like to return all money they paid me,” Harry declared. ”They’ve...you’ve
all been so good to me. I feel like I owe it to them.”

Ron began to protest, but Harry raised his hands to silence him. ”Ron, I want to do this. I have to. To me, it’s
only right. Please support me in this because I know there’s going to be a tirade when they open that envelope,”
Harry said, almost pleading with his friend.

”All right, all right, Harry. And my lips are sealed. I promise,” Ron said, shaking Harry’s hand. ”And
Harry...thanks. Once the shock wears off and the tirade is over, they’ll be overjoyed. It’ll be the best Christmas
present you could ever give them, mate.” Ron hugged him like a brother and patted his back.

After the business with the Burrow, neither Harry nor Ron had any more ambition or motivation to read through
any more deeds and contracts. The conclusion of the deed transfer had been too emotional for both of them.
They left Gringotts and headed for the shops for Christmas presents.

On Christmas Day, Harry awoke and received his first present—a very intense snog from and with Ginny. They
reluctantly got up and headed downstairs to the living room, she in the pajama top and he in the bottoms. She
had, however, slipped a pair of red shorts on under it to allay her mother’s wrath. Ron and Hermione were
already up, as were the elder Weasleys. The pile of presents under the tree appeared bigger this year as they
splayed out from under it in all directions reaching halfway across the room to the sofa. After all, there were
eleven people in the house this Christmas. When his daughter and surrogate son appeared at the bottom of the
stairs, Arthur rose to pull Molly from the kitchen. ”Dearest Molly, we won't die if we have breakfast an hour
later. It's Christmas after all. It's time to open presents.” Molly knew her husband was right. Ron volunteered to
act as distributor, with Hermione as his able assistant. He and Hermione began to sort out gifts as the rest of the
Weasley clan joined them.

Once all the presents had been distributed to their rightful owners, Harry plucked up his Gryffindor courage and
handed an envelope to Arthur and Molly. Ginny looked at him, clearly curious and sent a burst of that curiosity
through their bond. He hadn't told her about the discovery at Gringotts. ”Just wait, love,” he told her, wrapping
an arm around her shoulders. ”Just wait and see.”

Arthur opened the envelope and read the contents together with his wife. They both looked at one another
stunned and read the parchments again.

”What is it, Dad,” George asked, not a little concerned.

Molly looked at Harry with tears in her eyes and broke into a big smile. She grabbed him and gave him a hug.
By now everyone looked at Arthur, Harry and Molly.

”Mum! Harry's going purple,” Charlie said, prising Harry free so he could breathe. ”Dad, what's this all about?”
Arthur, clearly emotional too, cleared his throat. ”Weasleys, you all know your mother and I built the Burrow as
our home. We couldn't afford to buy this land, so we rented it from an unknown Wizarding family. We’d always
dealt with the goblins and never knew who the family was. Before Ron was born—right after you and Fred were
born, actually, George—our rent stopped going up every year. The goblins told us everything was in order, and
that there had been no oversight. The continued low rent we’ve paid for this land has really helped us over the
years. Well, it seems Harry is the owner of the land.”

All of them looked at Harry. ”Was. Actually, I didn't know the Potter family owned this land until a few days ago.
Anyway, the moment you opened that envelope, this deed to this land was transferred to Arthur and Molly

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Weasley.” Harry looked at them, a huge grin stealing across his face. ”It’s my present to you. Happy Christmas.”

”We absolutely can't accept this Harry,” Molly said.

”Molly, I couldn’t go on accepting rent from you. Besides, you don’t have any choice. The ownership is already
irrevocably transferred, so if you don't want to keep this land, you'll have to sell it and I won't buy it back.”

With that, Molly had nothing more to say. Arthur gathered Harry up in a bear hug much like one a father would
give a son who’d returned after a years-long absence. ”Harry, I don't know how to thank you,” Arthur said.

”You don't need to thank me. I'd have done this ages ago if I had only known. In fact in a very small way I want
you to consider my gift to you as a token of my gratitude for taking me in as a part of your family, Arthur,”
Harry explained. ”There are no words to describe what that has meant to me over the years.”

Bill read over the deed and contract. ”Harry, this is a fantastic gift.”

”And I'm glad your Mum and Dad accepted it before I had to threaten them with paying back every Galleon they
ever paid me.”

”Harry, don't you have to worry about your finances,” George asked.

Harry blushed.

”Harry doesn't have to worry about money, George,” Ginny said. She stole a glance at Harry, who nodded for
her to continue. ”He inherited both the Potter and the Black vaults. Harry is a millionaire.” Everyone gasped at
this revelation.

”Please don't tell anyone, but mine and Ginny's vault contain the Potter and Black fortunes. The goblins handle
the investments and I learned a few days ago that our wealth has increased by nearly ten percent the last six
months, and I didn't have to do anything.”

”Harry, I don't mean to intrude on your privacy, and you don’t have to answer if you’d rather not, but just how
much money do you have in that vault,” Arthur asked.

”A little over thirty million Galleons,” Harry said, clearly embarrassed.


”And you added Ginny to that vault after you got engaged,” Molly asked.

”Yes, of course I did. All that’s mine is hers,” Harry replied.

”How do you handle that kind of money,” Molly said.

”Trying not to think about it. Ginny is negotiating her salary and I'm trying to become an Auror. To tell you the
truth we wouldn't have to work if we didn't want to, but we don’t want to live like that.” We are not going to
become high-class snobs like the Malfoys.

The family still hadn’t recovered. They’d known for a long time that Harry had more money than the Weasley
family, but the fact that he was among the wealthiest wizards in Britain was news to them. That he, without a
doubt, had shared it all with Ginny was also news to everyone but Bill, though he didn't know the amount of
gold involved.

”I don't want to appear... superior... but I've learned one thing becoming part of this family, and that is that we
help one another. If any one of you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to come to me...us,” Harry said. ”I
actually feel a bit awkward having all that gold. I'd rather share it with you, my family.” With that, the talk
about gold was finished and everyone returned to their presents.

Eleven Weasleys, including Harry and Hermione, tore into their individual mountains of gifts, wrapping paper
flying in all directions and thank yous filling the air. Hermione received books from everyone for which she was
very happy.

Harry received a photo album from Ginny that was filled with pictures of their time together. Ron gave him a set
of experimental stunning bombs. He explained that they contained a stunning spell and could be thrown at a

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victim. It might be handy in that Auror training. Arthur and Molly had given him a book called Household Magic
For Every Wizard, by Epstein Ebenhart. It covered all kinds of repair spells for a house, Firewhiskey odour
vanishing spells after a boys’ night out, smell-reducing charms for nappy changes, and even a section covering
Upset Wife Reducing spells, useful for forgotten anniversaries, birthdays, mood-enhancing spells against PMS
and other situations an unsuspecting husband may encounter.

”It covers everything a family man needs,” Arthur explained.

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione chipped in together to present Ron with an all-season ticket to the Chudley
Cannons matches. He was speechless.

”So I expect you to be there when the Harpies humiliate the Cannons next season,” Ginny teased.

”Of course I'll be there to see you lose, Ginny,” Ron grinned.

Charlie had dragon products for everyone and Molly had knitted scarves and pullovers for the entire family.
Ginny had, of course, given them all tickets for the first Harpies match next season, but the big surprise came
from Percy. The pompous git maybe felt he had to do something in return after his family forgave him. He gave
everyone a one-week’s stay at a Hotel in Normandy next summer.
”Harry and Ginny, please let me know if this interferes with your honeymoon plans.”

Ginny saved her present from Harry. She opened it last. It was a dinner reservation for one of the finest Muggle
restaurants in London.

”I hope this is for two.” Ginny said looking at Harry, who just smiled at her.

Christmas Day continued with the extended Weasley family enjoying just being together in the same place at
the same time, since it was such a rare occurrence. Molly had prepared an unhealthy amount of food that had
even Ron waving the white flag of surrender. That evening Harry, Ron, George and Charlie sat in the living
room over Butterbeers and man-chat.

”Harry, you need to set a date for the wedding,” Ron said. ”I need to plan the stag night.”

The others nodded. ”I wouldn’t miss that for the world,” George said.

”I have an idea, but I need to check with Ginny first,” Harry said. ”I also thought about getting all our friends
together at Grimmauld Place for New Year.”

”That would be great, Harry,” Ron said excitedly.

”Yes, and Kreacher would have all of next term to get the place back in order,” Harry grinned.

”Well then, you great prat. She’s out in the kitchen. Go talk to her,” Charlie said nudging Harry off the sofa.

Harry heaved himself off the sofa with a mock groan and pretended to drag himself to the kitchen as though he
were going to his execution. His ”brothers” urged him on. ”G’on, Harry. She’s waiting,” George said with an
impish grin.

Sure enough, Ginny stood in the kitchen, nibbling on a biscuit with a glass of milk next to her on the counter.
Harry approached her, saying nothing. He stepped right up in front of her, pressed her against the counter, put
his arms around her and crushed his mouth to hers in a mind-numbing kiss. Her hands stole up his chest and
around his neck, twining themselves in his messy black hair, their love for one another coursing through their
bond. Reluctantly, they came up for air, both of them weak in the knees and dizzy.

”Wow,” Ginny breathed, dazed. ”Got any more like that?”

”I do, but I’m saving them for later, love,” Harry said slyly, running his fingers through her fire-red locks. ”But
there’s something I need to talk to you about. Something we’ve got to decide.”

”What’s that,” Ginny asked suspiciously.

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”Love, after reading the diary the other night, I thought June twenty-fourth would be a great date for our
wedding, since it was the date my dad proposed to my mum.”

”It's perfect, and a sweet tribute to them,” Ginny replied, her arms still wrapped around his neck. I want you
now, Potter.
”You know Ron is planning a Stag night,” Harry told her cautiously.

”I don't want to know what Hermione has in mind for my Hen night,” Ginny replied with a smirk. ”With her, you
can never tell.”

”They'll try to get us pissed and embarrassed us, no doubt.”

Ginny nodded. ”You know, there’s a potion that increases your tolerance for alcohol. Maybe we should brew that
one.”

”Ginny, you are so brilliant. I love you for that,” Harry laughed, hugging her tightly. ”That puts you one step
ahead of Hermione, you know.”

”Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? Imagine that,” Ginny giggled and rested her head against his chest. She loved to listen
to his heartbeat. It was like being truly home.

Harry and Ginny felt as though a weight they had no idea they were carrying had been lifted from their
shoulders, having finally set a date for their wedding. On a lark, Harry picked her up in his arms and carried her
back to the living room where everyone else had gathered. Harry set her down carefully and they asked for
attention.

”All right, Weasleys,” Ginny said. ”You’d better make sure you’re free on June 24th, because that's the day I
marry Harry!” Christmas Day could hardly have passed on a happier note as the Weasley assemblage drank one
more toast. ”To June 24th,” Arthur announced. ”Slaínte!”

”Slaínte!” Ten glasses of Firewhiskey and one glass of pumpkin juice disappeared into the Weasleys, and they all
bade each other ”Sweet Dreams” as they ascended the stairs to bed.

Harry and Ginny, though completely exhausted after the events of the day, weren’t quite ready to go to sleep
yet. ”So...what about those mind-bending kisses you’ve been saving for me,” Ginny asked coyly.

”Ah yes, I did promise you those, didn’t I,” Harry answered, pulling her closer.

”Yes, you did and I’m holding you to your promises, Mr Potter.”

”Never has man been so eager to keep his word to woman, Miss Weasley. Come here, Beautiful.” Harry crushed
his lips against hers just as he had done in the kitchen earlier that evening, only this time he rolled himself over
and pinned her to the mattress, engaging her in another all-out Christmas snog-fest.

”Harry, you handsome devil,” Ginny sighed, once again weak. ”I want you now!” Before he knew it, she had
slipped out of her pajama top and had them both stark naked. They made love and finished just as Christmas
Day passed into Boxing Day. Spent, they fell asleep once again in one another’s arms, dreaming of wedding
rings and Sealing charms.

The week until New Year’s passed quickly. Harry and Ginny had sent out party invitations to all their friends.
Molly managed to sit them down and talk about wedding plans, but with so many people at the Burrow, it was
like everything happened everywhere constantly. Ron and George were working on new products, more than
once creating utter chaos in the house. It was exactly the way it should be at the Burrow, and despite her
outbursts, Molly loved every minute of it.

On December twenty-ninth, Harry presented Ginny with a beautiful Muggle evening dress and put on a dressy
sports jacket. This was the night Harry had planned for Ginny's present. They Apparated into London and walked
the short way to the restaurant. At the entrance, the Maître d' eyed the young couple with suspicion.

”Harry Potter, table for two,” Harry said, slipping the Maître d' a ten-pound note.

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The Maître d' looked at the guest list and found the Potters.

”Certainment, Monsieur,” he bowed slightly and turned to Ginny. ”Mademoiselle, please follow me.”

He showed them a table and helped them get seated. With a wave of his hand, a waiter approached. Another
wave and the sommelier joined them, too. The Maître d' left them and the waiter gave them the menu.

”What would you recommend tonight,” Harry asked.

”We have a lovely halibut Bougionne served with pommes château with herbs. I can recommend blue mussels
boiled in white wine as a starter and our own apple ice cream with cardamom sauce for dessert.”

They nodded in agreement at the suggested menu and the sommelier asked if they had any preferences. ”We
trust your judgment,” Harry said.

”Harry, this is...it’s...wow,” Ginny stammered, staring deeply into her fiancé’s eyes. ”Thank you so much for all
of this.”

Harry decided it was time for courtly speech. ”Ah, fair lady, it suiteth thee well. Thy beauty but enhanceth the
ambiance of so plain a setting,” he said as he kissed her hand.

”Good Sir, thou hast hung the moon and the stars on this magical night,” she replied dreamily. ”It is thy noble
goodness that suiteth me well.”

”If I have hung the moon and stars, it was only for thee, my love. For only thou art worthy of their glory,” Harry
replied, still kissing her hand and gazing into her eyes.

”Then let the sun be worthy of thine, my love. For in it thou shineth brighter than all the stars together in the
heavens,” she said, caressing his cheek.

Harry and Ginny were so locked up in one another’s love, they didn’t notice the other restaurant patrons
watching them with wistful smiles on their faces. An elderly man suddenly took his wife’s hand as it rested on
the table, a young couple slid closer together in their booth, and a middle-aged couple looked on as they felt
their love for one another rekindle.

The waiter didn’t want to interrupt this beautiful scene. ”Your mussels,” he said as he set the dish down between
them. ”Bon appétit.” He backed away with a wistful smile of his own. These lovely young people just made his
night.

The sommelier brought their wine, a lovely white to accompany the seafood, and poured some into each of their
glasses. Harry and Ginny fed one another, still gazing into one another’s eyes. Soon, the waiter reappeared with
the halibut and refilled their wine glasses. ”I drink to thee, Milady, the most beautiful witch in all the land,”
Harry whispered, raising his glass to hers. ”Thou takest my very breath away and givest it back with thy love.”
He sent his devotion through their bond and she drew in a breath.

”My own love, thy love is my very breath, the very beat of my heart which sustaineth me. For thou completest
me,” she replied as she sent a burst of the unspoken thing through their bond. ”I so love thee, Sir Knight.”

They drank to one another and then, without as second thought, joined their lips in a tender kiss. ”I love thee,
dear lady, more than thou couldst ever know and more that I could ever tell thee,” Harry whispered again, and
returned the unspoken thing through their bond.

The dinner was outstanding. The combination of flavours enhanced by the choice of wine made by the sommelier
made this dinner unforgettable. Harry left a generous tip to the staff. They walked together hand-in-hand to the
place where they had Apparated. Harry took her in his arms, kissed her, and turned to Disapparate to the
Burrow. ”You know,” Harry said as they made their way to the door, ”I really need to get my Apparition
licence.”

Ginny laughed. ”That would be something, the great Harry Potter fined for illegal Apparition.”

”Maybe Percy could help me out. I can't bother Kingsley with that.”

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”I think he would love that,” Ginny said. ”Ask him tomorrow. Harry, I loved my present tonight.”

Harry could see how happy Ginny was and there was nothing Harry liked more than making Ginny happy. ”I’m
glad. I liked your present too.”

Chapter 11: A New Year


[View Online] [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Chapter 11 – A New Year

Ron and Hermione helped Harry and Ginny plan and prepare their New Year’s Eve party at Grimmauld Place,
despite Molly’s concerns. Kreacher was delighted about having so much to do. Harry's original Quidditch team
was coming, including the winning team from his sixth year. Almost all of the members of the original DA were
coming, including all six in Harry's current Auror Training class. Harry had also invited several Hogwarts friends.
The Weasley brothers had all accepted the invitation, which placated Molly. She calmed down quite a bit when
she learned that nothing stronger than Butterbeer would be served.

By eight o'clock, about thirty people had arrived. It was great having so many friends gathered in his home. One
of the first to approach Harry and Ginny was Oliver Wood. ”Ginny, congratulations making that contract. I guess
I'll have to watch out for you next season,” Oliver smiled. He was the Keeper for Puddlemere United.

”All you’ll see is the Quaffle passing through your rings,” Ginny grinned.

”Is that so,” Oliver replied, casting a look at Harry. ”I guess I’d better come and watch a game at Hogwarts to
learn your playing style, then.”

”It won't help you, but you're of course welcome to come cheer on Gryffindor,” Ginny said confidently.

Oliver grinned and turned to Harry. ”She's a feisty one.”

”And with good reason,” Harry nodded, kissing her hand. ”Be sure to come and watch her play. She's brilliant,”
Harry said proudly.

Harry and Ginny continued walking around greeting their guests. ”Angelina! Hi, great seeing you,” Harry said as
he gave her a quick hug. ”I'm dead chuffed that all of you from my first Quidditch team could make it.”

Angelina seemed distracted, but turned her attention to Harry and Ginny. ”Sorry... yes, I haven't seen some of
them for some time. Thank you for inviting me, though.”

”Hey, no problem,” Harry replied.

”Erm...excuse me Harry, but are Katie and George a couple?”

Harry shrugged. ”The Weasley boys are hopeless. Ron finally got it together with Hermione, but I have no idea
about George. Last I heard, they’re just spending time together for the most part. I don't know if either of them
wants a relationship.”

”I just wanted to know so I don't make an arse of myself when I greet them,” Angelina said and excused
herself.

Harry and Ginny exchanged a surprised look. Angelina seemed a little more eager than just avoiding
embarrassment. However there were more guests to greet, including Neville and Hannah. They were leaving for
France the next week. Neville was starting his job at Beauxbatons and Hannah had found a job at a nearby pub.

”We haven't set a date for our wedding yet.” Hannah told them. ”But you'll get an invitation.”

”You’ll have one to our wedding too, of course,” Ginny said. ”June 24th.”

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”We'll be back in England for the summer holiday, so we'll be there,” Neville promised ”Wouldn't miss it for the
world!”

Both Harry and Ginny considered Neville among their closest friends. They hadn't seen each other much lately,
but living in the same dorm for six years had built a firm friendship between Harry and Neville. Ginny had been
good friends with Neville after the Yule ball, but it was especially leading Dumbledore's Army at Hogwarts last
year that had formed the kind of friendship in which they could trust one another with their lives.

”Listen Neville, could I have a word,” Harry asked pulling him away from their women. ”I need to talk to you.”

”Um...sure, Harry,” Neville replied, taking a swig from his Butterbeer. ”What can I do for you?”

”It’s not what you can do, but what you’ve done,” Harry said, guiding him to a corner. ”I’m just not sure how to
say this, but I’m going to anyway.”

”Okay...” Neville said, a bit confused. ”Go on, I’m listening.”

”Neville, I... I've been meaning to thank you...” Harry began. ”I want to thank you for looking after Ginny last
year.”

”Harry, I...”

”Neville, I know you and Ginny led the resistance against the Carrows and I know some horrible things
happened to the both of you,” Harry explained. ”I don’t know any specifics, but I know it’s affected both of you.”

”Harry, Ginny and I looked after each other. She was the real foundation for that whole thing. I just did what I
could to help her. She’s a tough little lady, but there were times...”

”I know, Nev. She hasn’t told me anything about it and I won’t press her,” Harry cut across him. ”And I’m not
asking you to tell me for her, but I just want to thank you for all you’d done for her. I believe that she wouldn’t
have survived it without you by her side.”

”If I’m honest, Harry, none of us would have survived without her. It was Ginny that kept us going. She was the
one who learned all the healing...”

”Healing? Neville, what do you mean,” Harry asked, eyes narrowing. What did those bastards do to you?

”There were loads of nasty injuries to a lot of us, Harry. Ginny included. Seamus had his skull cracked at least
once, and Corner and MacMillan suffered burns and a few broken bones—all kinds of horrible stuff,” Neville
recalled, his brow furrowing. ”When we weren’t allowed to go to Madame Pomfrey anymore, Ginny would nick up
to the hospital wing for potions, bandages, and instructions for spells to fix us all up, herself included.”

”Herself?” Not my Ginny. Not my heart and soul.

”Yeah, mostly cuts and bruises. They went a little easier on the girls. Sometimes, though, she’d have to bring
Madame Pomfrey back with her—sometimes to the common rooms, but usually the Room of Requirement. You
saw it, Harry. You saw how we lived in there.”

Harry felt himself beginning to seethe and tried to fight it back. He didn’t want Ginny to know he was becoming
angry during this party. Easy, Potter. ”Neville, thanks for telling me this, but I think we should to leave it here
for now. Again, though, thank you for keeping her safe and...alive. You’re a good friend.”

”You’re a good friend, too, Harry...and you’re good for Ginny. She did it all for you, you know,” Neville replied,
shaking his friend’s hand. They gave each other a man-hug.

”Good luck in France, Nev. Keep in touch, yeah?”

”Absolutely.”
Ginny! My sweet Ginny! What happened to you? I can’t bear the thought of those sick animals touching
you...hurting you. I thought you’d be safe at Hogwarts. If I’d have known you were in danger, I would have come

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and taken you away from there myself. I want—I need to know what exactly earned you your Order of Merlin.
Ginny, baby, as long as I live, I swear to you that nobody—and I mean NOBODY—will ever hurt you again!

Before he could find Ginny and make further rounds, he had to collect himself. He closed his eyes against the
sting of tears forming behind them and took deep cleansing breaths. Easy, Harry. It’s over and she’s safe now.
His fists began to unclench and he checked his palms for blood. Good. No blood, no evidence, no questions. He
turned his thoughts to his love for Ginny and the joy of the moment.

Kreacher had outdone himself. He had prepared a variety of courses served buffet-style, perfect for a social
evening. Everyone had been able to find a seat to eat, and were free to get up to get more and move around.
Almost everyone at the party knew everyone else, and since many hadn't met for a while, it was a great evening
for catching up with old friends. The clock had long-before chimed ten when Harry finally met Ron again.

”Having a good time, mate,” Harry asked him.

”Yeah, but it seems my dear brother is having an even better time,” Ron said nodding into a room.

George and Angelina sat together in deep conversation. It looked quite romantic.

”What about Katie,” Harry asked.

”George and Katie have never been a couple. Sure, they cheered each other up with a bit of snogging, but that
was months ago. But that over there looks serious.”

”I see Katie over there by herself. I’d better see if she's all right,” Harry said. Harry strode across the room
where Katie sat, sipping her Butterbeer. ”Hi K,” Harry said.

”Oh, hello Harry. Wonderful party. Thanks for the invitation. The buffet is in the same league with the Hogwarts
feasts.”

”Yes, Kreacher has certainly shined tonight. You look a bit lonely. I just wanted to see that you’re all right,
Katie.”

”Are you referring to George pulling Angelina off?”

Harry nodded. ”I know you and George have spent a lot of time together,” Harry said ”Molly said you've been at
the Burrow too.”

”Harry, thank you for being concerned, but I'm not interested in George that way, and he's not interested in me
that way either. We're just friends who shared some really well-needed snogs, getting through our losses in the
war. I lost a brother too...” Her voice trailed off as if caught in a memory.

”I'm sorry I didn't know,” Harry replied.

”Thanks. He was older than me and had left Hogwarts before you started. He was killed before the Battle of
Hogwarts. Anyway, George has meant a lot to me during this time of mourning and if you worry about me,
seeing him flirting with Angelina, you don't have to. I'd be happy for him, and Angelina is a great girl. George
will remain one of my closest friends, in any case,” Katie assured him. ”Oh, you know what? I don’t think I
congratulated you and Ginny on your engagement!”

”Thank you, Katie,” Harry said. ”She’s the best.” Speaking of the best, she’s having a good time tonight.

”Thanks again for your concern, Harry. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go and catch up with Oliver. It’s been a
long time,” she said as she stood up.

”Anytime, K,” Harry replied, relieved that she was all right.

Katie walked over to Oliver Wood and he hugged her enthusiastically. Harry returned to the sitting room, but on
the way back he noticed that George and Angelina had left. Harry found Ginny and before he knew it, it was
almost midnight. Everyone gathered in the living room as Harry clanged a spoon against his bottle of
Butterbeer. He and Ginny stood and he wrapped his arm around her waist, sending a burst of his love through

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their bond. She snuggled into his shoulder.

”Thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate with us. 1998 has been the worst and the best year of our lives.
Tom Riddle did his best to trash this year for all of us, but Ginny made this year the best so far in my life. We’re
glad to share this evening with all of our friends. Is there someone keeping track of time who can tell me when
it's midnight?”

”Two minutes, Harry,” Hermione called.

”Thanks Hermione, I can always count on you,” Harry grinned as the others snickered. ”Well, it should be
enough time for everyone to make sure they have a something in their glasses, yeah?”

”Countdown, everyone,” Ron called. ”10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Happy New Year!” The friends
began to make the rounds, hugging one another and clinking their glasses and bottles together. They could hear
fireworks and cheers from celebrants outside in the streets welcoming in 1999.

Harry put down his bottle and wrapped his arms around Ginny, holding her tightly in his embrace. ”Happy new
year, Ginny,” he said, and gave her one of his newly-patented mind-blowing kisses.

”Mmm...happy new year, my love. Been saving that one up?”

”Since last year,” he murmured into her mouth. ”And there’s a few more left, I think.”

Ginny could see Hermione and Fleur approaching from behind Harry. ”Hold that thought, love. We have
company.”

Hermione wrapped her arms around her surrogate brother and planted a wet kiss on his cheek. ”Happy new
year, Harry. We all sure deserve one,” she said a little tearfully as he hugged her tightly.

”Happy new year, Hermione.”

”’Arry! ’'Appy new year,” Fleur cried as she kissed Harry on both cheeks. ”I would ’ug you, but...”

”Happy new year, Fleur,” Harry replied, chuckling. ”I understand.”

Harry noticed George and Angelina were still kissing, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the party. He thought
the kisses looked rather intense. Harry elbowed Ron in the side. ”Look, it seems like there's sparks from
somewhere other than fireworks tonight.”

”George and Angelina. Did that happen tonight,” Ron asked.

”As far as I know.” Harry said. ”Well, good for him. Katie was all right with it too.”

Ron shrugged and put his arm around Hermione. After midnight, the guests began to leave one by one, and
Harry decided to come back after a good night’s sleep to clear the mess. He told Kreacher to leave it until they
returned and they Flooed back to the Burrow.

Harry exited the Floo laughing madly. Someone had added Funny Floo Powder during the party. Ginny got arse
kicked and landed on top of a still laughing Harry. Ron came out of the Floo with clothes that looked like
Professor Trelawney's and finally Hermione had encountered the shrinking effect, now standing about two feet
tall.

”Very funny,” she said with a high-pitched voice reminding of the way someone sounded after inhaling helium.
Hermione cast a spell on herself returning to normal size. Harry pushed of Ginny gasping for air.

”Can't stop... laughing... please... stop... it!” Harry cried as tears flowed down his face.

”Finite incantatem,” Hermione said and Harry breathed deeply, catching his breath.

”Bloody hell, I can't find my wand among these... clothes,” Ron moaned.

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”Well, you invented that stuff, so I won't help you,” Hermione said firmly.

Harry drew his wand and summoned Ron's wand. ”Accio, Ron’s wand!”

”I won't help you transfigure your clothes back though, but here's your wand,” Harry snickered at his friend’s
appearance. Ron looked like a cross-dressing imbecile in Sybil Trelawney’s clothes.

”That kick really hurt,” Ginny whined and turned to Harry to kiss him. ”But I enjoyed my landing.”

”I can massage it and make it all better,” Harry offered with a wicked Harry-grin.

”Promises, promises,” Ginny giggled. ”Is that a promise?”

”If you so desire it, my love. It will be my pleasure,” Harry replied picking her up off the floor. ”Goodnight, Ron.
Goodnight, Hermione. Happy new year.” They began to climb the stairs to their room, yawning and stretching.

”Night, Harry. Night, Ginny.” Ron and Hermione yawned and started up the stairs behind them.

Arthur and Molly had spent New Year’s Eve with Aunt Muriel. Arthur said that it hadn’t been optional, but didn’t
elaborate. They sat at the breakfast table with Bill, Fleur, Charlie and Percy when Harry and Ginny came down
the stairs.

”Morning, family,” Ginny yawned. ”Harry new year...I think.”

Harry dropped down onto the seat next to Ginny and poured a cup of tea for her and then for himself. ”What do
you mean you think? It’s not like you had anything alcoholic to drink last night.”

”I know that, O Wise Arse. It was just a late night and I’m still foggy, that’s all,” she retorted, shoving him. ”I’m
still waking up.” Ginny yawned again and laid her head on Harry’s shoulder.

”If you still tired, Gin, go back to bed,” Harry suggested. ”Nobody forced you to get up with me.”

”Harry, you’re a good old soul, but we have work to do at Grimmauld, remember? It’s trashed and you told
Kreacher...” Ginny heard the sound of feet tromping down the stairs. She looked up to find Ron just appearing in
the doorway and burst into laughter, Harry snickering into his tea. Hermione followed at his heels.

”Did you change clothes Ron,” she teased, thinking about his horribly transfigured robes.

”Of course. I really shouldn't wear out your wedding dress,” Ron retorted.

Hermione giggled. ”I'm sorry, I just pictured Harry watching Ginny walk up the aisle wearing... whatever that
was.”

Prompted by the quizzical looks from his parents and older siblings, Ron told them about the Floo Powder
incident. ”George better tell me how to return my clothes to normal. It was a rather nice set of robes, rather
than a ghastly heap of rags, Ron said.

”Well, the way I see it you had it coming,” Molly said looking quite amused. ”Bitten by your own dog!” She
began to laugh.

Charlie, Bill, Fleur and Percy snickered into their breakfast as they formed a mental picture of their brother in
Sybil Trelawney’s loose clothes.

”Where is George anyway” Arthur asked.

The youngsters of the family blushed and smirked at each other. Molly looked sharply at each one of them.

”He...” Ron said, wide-eyed and looking at Harry.

”... is probably still...” Harry said looking at Ginny with pleading eyes.

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”... dreaming,” she added.

Bill shook his head and cleared his throat. ”He met a girl at the party, it looked serious.”

”A girl,” Molly asked. ”What about Katie?”

”Katie and I are very good friends,” George's voice drifted down from the stairwell. ”She was the first one to
congratulate me yesterday.”

George went to the table and sat. Everyone was quiet. ”All right you pack of vultures, you want the details,”
George asked.

”I want to know how to transfigure my new robes back from rags,” Ron said irritably.

Hermione looked at him. ”If you haven't figured it out by noon, I'll do it for you.”

”You know how to do it,” Ron asked in surprise.

”Yes, of course I do, but if you don't shut it and let George tell us about last night, I won't help you,” Hermione
said.

Everyone stared at George in anticipation now. ”Well, I think we got together like falling in love at first sight,
even though we’ve known each other for years.”

”WHO,” Molly demanded, sounding like a Howler.

”Angelina,” George said dreamily.

”Angelina who,” Molly repeated, snapping George out of his daydream.

”Angelina Johnson, of course. She was at the party last night...and I was too,” George said, slipping back into his
dreamlike state. ”... and she was so wonderful, and we talked, and we connected, and we looked into each
other's eyes, and we talked about Quidditch, and we talked about feelings, and we hugged and by midnight...”

”Basically, you are pathetically in love,” Charlie finished for him.

George nodded, looking happy. No one had seen him like this since Fred's death. ”Did you know Angelina means
messenger from an angel,” George asked.

”Congratulations brother,” Bill said. ”But for all of our sakes, pull yourself together, mate. Write her a love
letter, anything.”

”I'll do that,” George replied with a distant voice as he rose from the table and headed toward the stairs again.
They watched his back as he mounted the stairs in a haze.

”Did someone give him a love potion,” Molly asked.

”He did spend the entire evening with Angelina,” Ron said. ”But he can't go on like that for long.”

”It's nothing a good Bat-Bogey hex won't fix,” Ginny grinned wickedly.

”Sadist,” Harry smirked.

”Yes, I am,” Ginny said as she leaned into Harry, her mouth less than an inch from his ear. ”And nobody knows
that better than you, my love...do they?” She sent him a burst of the unspoken thing.

”I have seen you in action, yes,” Harry whispered, returning her burst.

”All right. Give it a rest, you two. Some of us are still eating,” Percy said glaring at them.

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”Somebody didn’t get...” Ginny began a rude comment, but a little kick from Harry stopped her.

”...enough sleep,” Harry finished.

”I got plenty of sleep, thank you,” Percy retorted.


”I tried to rescue you,” Harry said. ”You’re on your own now, mate.” I will deal with your sister later.

”So, George seems to have fallen in love with Angelina Johnson,” Arthur concluded. They all nodded.

An hour later, Ron heard a grunt from George's room. He knocked and entered at George’s invitation. There
were about twenty parchments lying all over the floor.

”What do I tell her? Everything sounds ridiculous. I mean... it's Angelina. I know her, I called her Chaser girl, for
Merlin's sake. And now what? Love? Dear? Sweetheart? Help me, Ron! You got together with Hermione after all
these years, you must know what I'm going through.”

Ron sighed and sat down. ”You really lost your heart and fell for her yesterday?”

”I did. I’ve never felt like this, ever. I'm lost, you know? I can't even crack a joke about it,” George lamented.

”That's troubling. All right, I'll try to help you, if you tell me how to fix my clothes.”

George grinned. ”Deal, brother.”

”So what’s your situation? I mean, I saw that snog at midnight...” Ron said.

George got that dreamy look for a moment. ”We... told each other we've fallen in love.”

”You are so... in trouble...” Ron snickered. ”Well then, let's write your letter.”

Another hour later George read his letter. ”This is crap, you know that.” he said.

”Yes, but it's unique because it expresses your true feelings for Angelina in a very honest way, in a glorious
attempt to create a romantic letter with no skill at it at all. She'll love it,” Ron promised.

”You're sure of that,” George asked.

”How did a pathetic know-nothing-about-girls prat like me end up with a goddess like Hermione?” Ron’s belly did
a little flip-flop as the taste of Hermione’s kisses blossomed in his head. I can’t keep her off my mind.
You’ve got it bad, little brother. ”Of course you're sure. Stupid question.”

George sealed the letter and handed it shakily to Ron asking him to send it before he changed his mind. Ron
captured Pig and sent him off. ”Take this to straight to Angelina. George’s mind is at stake.”

Draco Malfoy slept fitfully, his dreams punctuated with scenes of his family’s trials before the Wizengamot.
Again, he relived the shame he felt as his father was sentenced to ten years in Azkaban, his ”wand” snapped. He
had dutifully promised to look after his mother, even though he’d long ago lost respect for the once-proud Lucius
Malfoy. He was ever haunted by the defeated look in Narcissa’s eyes during those horrible last months of the
war, and how empty her life had become since the trial, holed up in that mausoleum they called a home. He
promised himself that he would do everything in his power to restore some degree of honour to his family name
and make a life for himself.

”Psst…Draco!” Draco got up and looked into the fire. Someone was there. ”Leaky Cauldron, one hour,” the voice
hissed and disappeared.

Draco thought about the message. He’d been working at the Ministry gaining confidence, but he was nowhere
near having established a good reputation. Was it possible at all? Meeting with this representative for the

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mysterious Death Eater seemed harmless. He was supposed to be spying on the Death Eaters for the Ministry,
and the Death Eater would of course expect to get reports from the Ministry.

He considered the facts. He knew nothing about this Death Eater, although he did know a lot about the Ministry.
Despite a somewhat strained situation, Kingsley Shacklebolt's administration was gaining strength. His future
lay with the Ministry, there was no doubt about that, which meant he needed justified motivation to support the
Death Eater. He needed to stand to gain more than he’d lost, whichever side he chose. He certainly couldn't
afford the losing side again. Tom Riddle had destroyed the family he’d already promised himself he would
restore. To thine own self be true, Draco.

At the appointed time, Draco Malfoy entered the Leaky Cauldron and was immediately approached by a hooded
man. ”Come, Mr Malfoy,” he hissed. Draco followed him and was given an empty Butterbeer bottle. ”It's a
Portkey. It will activate in a minute. Hold on.”

Draco felt the customary tug behind his navel and found himself transported to a cottage in some forest. ”No
need trying to find out where we are. This place will be deserted after our meeting,” the unknown man
whispered.

”Why am I here,” Draco asked.

”I'm the closest to our leader. I'm here to give you answers.”

After breakfast the day after New Year, Harry received an owl from Kingsley asking him for an instant meeting.
Harry Flooed right to the Ministry and hurried through the atrium so quickly that the wizards there hardly had
time to notice him. He had learned from Percy that his Auror internship granted him access to the Ministry and
he didn't have to check in at the Guest Desk. Harry was on the lift before long, heading for Kingsley's office. He
didn't have to wait but a few minutes to be shown in. Kingsley and Gawain were already there waiting for him.

”Harry, it's good to see you. I'm sorry to ask you to come on such short notice,” Kingsley greeted him.

”Kingsley, it's good to see you, and you too, Auror Robards,” Harry answered, shaking both their hands.
”Potter,” Robards replied.

Kingsley invited them to sit down. ”I’ve had a report from Mr Malfoy yesterday. He met with his contact and it
appears that it’s quite a situation we’re in. Both the Ministry and the Death Eaters are aware of the fact that Mr
Malfoy is a double-agent, and I suppose we’re all trying to decide how trustworthy he really is.”

”And both sides know that the other side knows that we both, in fact, know what we know,” Gawain stated
emphatically, mentally making sure of his own statement. ”Right.”

”Yeah? Know what,” Harry asked trying not to smirk.

”That we know Draco is a double-agent with questionable loyalties, and are using that fact to mislead each
other,” Kingsley said.

”So, you count on Draco betraying information to the enemy?”

Kingsley looked troubled. "We know that they know what we know, knowing that we know that they don't know
who to trust—Draco least of all,” Kingsley said with an air of confidence and then continued without pausing.
”But I must point out that we don't know with absolute certainty that they don't necessarily know anything more
than we already know that they know." This time, Kingsley made a show of ascertaining that what he’d just said
made some modicum of sense. ”Yes. Right.”

For his part, Harry seriously tried to follow this line of Ministry double-talk, but he hadn’t had much luck so far.
He decided the best he could do at this point was to pay attention and hope for the best...and possibly stave off
a pounding headache.

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”Exactly,” Gawain said, while Harry blinked his eyes in thought, still trying to decipher what the hell his
colleagues were talking about. ”As no side really knows where Draco's loyalties lie, or even if he has any, we
can't be absolutely certain that he does anything for either side, and both sides know that. So we try to learn
what we can based on the facts.”

”And the fact is you don't know anything,” Harry concluded, trying to make it sound as though he followed their
line of reasoning. Mental, this is.

”At least we're certain of that,” Gawain smiled nodding his head. ”Harry, it's a game of tactics. Both sides try to
set traps for the other. Play your hand in the right moment and you win, otherwise you lose.” What? Mixed
metaphors now? Bloody hell!

”So what do we do,” Harry asked dubiously. This ought to be good...

”Reviewing Mr Malfoy's memories in a Pensieve convinced us that there is a Death Eater. How great the threat
might be, we don't know, but at the very least we want this Death Eater arrested and put to trial. If there indeed
is a plot against us we must stop it immediately,” Gawain said.

”The problem is we don't know who we’re dealing with. We don't know where to start searching. Mr Malfoy isn't
much help, because he was port-keyed to a deserted cottage in a forest somewhere for the meeting. Yet, he is
our only lead,” Kingsley said.
”We want to make him more interesting to the Death Eaters. He must be seen with you, Harry. Everyone knows
you're not friends, so if you're seen together, observers’ll think there's a good reason. A few hints in a comment
from the Ministry, and Mr Malfoy just might be a lot more interesting to the enemy,” Gawain told him.

”Any instructions as to how I should handle this,” Harry asked, almost regretting doing so.

”We have to remember that Mr Malfoy might be truly working for the enemy, so use Legilimency to detect lies.
Officially, he’s a Ministry employee. The official reason you meet is that he is handling some files you need for
the DA that you’d planned to get during the holidays,” Kingsley said. ”Contact him in any way you see fit,
making dead sure you are seen together before you return to Hogwarts.”

Harry nodded. There was something really disturbing about this situation, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
With the Horcruxes, at least he knew what to do. His thoughts swirling, Harry left the Ministry and Flooed back
to the Burrow thinking about the best way to contact Malfoy. What a mess! He had to co-operate with Malfoy to
uncover a supposedly existing plot against the Ministry. At least being close to Ginny made him feel better.

Harry sent an owl to Draco, asking to meet with him at the Leaky Cauldron on DA business. He wrote that
Kingsley suggested that he'd turn to Draco. A couple of hours later, he received Draco’s reply that they could
meet for lunch the next day.

”Auror work can sure be strange. I'd prefer a straight duel over tactical mind games,” Harry told Ginny.

”I know, love. I can feel your frustration. Talk to Ron if you need tactical advice. He's brilliant at Wizard's Chess
you know.”

”That's right. I think I will,” Harry replied thoughtfully. ”You’re one smart witch, Gin. Have I told you lately that I
love you?”

”Not in so many words,” she replied.

”I love you, Gin,” Harry said softly, brushing her lips with his as he sent a burst of the unspoken thing through
their bond. Instinctively, he took her into his arms and pressed her to him, burying his face in her hair and
neck. The intoxicating scent of wildflowers and strawberries filled his senses and set his brain whirling.

”Mmmm... I love you, Harry,” she replied, returning his love. She tilted her head back to allow him better access
to her neck and shoulders. ”Oooh, that’s nice,” she purred, running her hands across his chest and around to his
back. She reached for her wand and flicked it at the door, imperturbing it. He’s free to do anything he wants.

Gryffindor’s lion began to awaken deep in Harry’s chest. His heartbeat increased as he continued to kiss Ginny’s
neck and shoulders. He lingered at her pulse point and then nipped at her throat. Her moans of pleasure spurred

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him on and the lion began to growl. ”Ginny... my Ginny,” he whispered as he kissed. After all these months, he
still couldn’t believe that this exquisite creature was his completely. She had given herself to him over and over,
but he just couldn’t wrap his head around the wonder of it all.

Ginny’s breathing became ragged. ”Kiss me, Harry,” she moaned. She pulled his face away from her neck and
stared into his eyes. They had already gone dark green with desire. ”Kiss me hard.” She wanted mind-blowing
kisses like the ones he’d first given her in the kitchen at Christmas. She’d become addicted to Harry, but now
that addiction had become an obsession. She needed him desperately. She set her hands on his shoulders
anticipating the crushing embrace preceding the kiss. She was not disappointed.

Harry set his hands behind her—one flat against her back and the other full of her thick hair. He growled
wantonly as he crushed his mouth against hers. Gryffindor’s lion roared his approval as Ginny parted her lips to
admit his tongue. Any awareness of a world outside their room faded away as Harry lost himself in the warmth
of her mouth and the heat of the white-hot passion flowing through their bond. ”I want you, Ginny,” Harry
growled into her mouth. ”I need you.” He tore his lips from hers and buried them once again in her neck.

”Harry,” she cried. ”The heat—it’s too much,” she whimpered into his shoulder. Mad waves of the unspoken
thing crashed into them like the tides breaking on the shore. She tore his shirt off him and began to kiss the
moist skin of his muscular chest and belly. The salt-taste of his pheromone-laced sweat drove her wild. ”I can’t
hold out much longer,” she moaned into his sternum. Volcanic fire ripped through her being and across the
bridge of their bond into Harry.

Suddenly, their clothes disappeared and they found themselves naked in their embrace. When Harry realised
what had happened, he threw her into the mattress and attacked her neck and breasts with renewed ardour.
”Now, Gin,” he growled again. ”Now, my love!” Nature took its course and Harry plowed into her with a hissing
intake of breath. She cried out his name as the lion took over the man. Their rhythm had long-since become
natural, automatic—so much so that there was no longer any need for conscious thought.

Their breathing became more ragged and laboured as they approached an explosive climax. ”Harry, oh gods,
Harry,” Ginny cried, tightening her legs’ grip around his waist, pulling him in deeper. She couldn’t get enough of
him. She couldn’t get close enough. She clung to him as tears of ecstasy coursed down her face. ”I love you so
much, Harry!” She shot a blast of the unspoken thing through their bond as she teetered on the edge of the
abyss and allowed herself to fall.

At the same moment the abyss claimed the love of his life, Harry stiffened and called out her name as he
plunged over the edge. He felt his muscles begin to relax as his body melted into hers. He caressed her face and
hair as he gazed into her blazing eyes. The unspoken thing passed between them in a gentle stream as they
basked in the afterglow of their reaffirmation of their love for one another. He kissed her gently—her face, her
now-swollen lips, her eyes, her hair. How he loved this woman!

”... so basically you don't know anything,” Ron summarized Harry's story.

Harry nodded and Ron thought about what Harry had told him. How could you get more reliable information
without any trustworthy sources?

”Do you have any ideas? I'm meeting Malfoy tomorrow,” Harry said hopefully.
”He knows you don't trust him, Harry, so do what you're supposed to do—be polite. The real game begins when
the Daily Prophet reports about the two of you meeting in public. That's when you declare that you had Ministry
business with Mr Malfoy. Say nothing more. If you're right, that Death Eater doesn't trust Malfoy either. They’ll
be tempted to confirm whatever he reports. If you meet him a couple of times, you can drop some worthless
information later on.”

”And if it contains a location the Death Eater might check it out...” Harry said.

”...they might suspect a trap. But if it's interesting enough, they might check it out anyway. It’s like a game of
chess. You’re always more willing to sacrifice a man to take out a Queen than a Knight,” Ron said.

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”But what if we don't set a trap?” Harry said.

”That would be either stupid or very smart,” Ron answered.

”Et tu, Weasley? You sound like Kingsley and Robards! What the hell is that supposed to mean,” Harry replied,
thoroughly frustrated.

”Think about it, Harry. Muggles hide cameras for security purposes in all kinds of places. It would be easy to
confund those Muggles in charge of the recorded information and check it for ourselves,” Ron explained. ”So the
trap is that there is no trap, and you're relying on Muggle devices to get information. I don't think the Death
Eaters would think you'd do that even if they are aware of those cameras.”

”Thanks, Ron. You should consider becoming an Auror, you know,” Harry hinted with a slight grin.

”I know, Harry. I’ve thought a lot about it. I couldn't do it after the summer. There was too much to work out.
Fred's death, getting together with Hermione, her parents, George needing help. Now it's different. George has
Angelina, and even if he still mourns Fred, he’s pretty much good old George again. The shop is doing great, and
we could still help him with ideas for new products. Harry, do you think it's too late to get into your DA training
program?”

”Well, for most people. You'd have a lot of Occlumency and Legilimency training to catch up with, but I think we
can work together one on one outside classes. And I hate to say this, Ron, but I think you'll lose a lot of duels
the first weeks, but if you really wanted to do it, you'd make it. Again, we can work together outside class to
catch you up,” Harry explained. ”Now, if Hermione agrees to help you with Ministry orientation that’ll help a lot
too. It's everything about how it's organized, internal procedures, which forms to fill out for different situations,
and so on. It's only slightly more tolerable than History of Magic with Professor Binns, but you'll manage. I'll talk
to Gawain when I report my meeting with Malfoy,” Harry promised.

”Thanks, mate,” Ron said gratefully. ”I’d really appreciate it.”


Anytime...partner. ”I guess Hermione would love it if you stayed at Hogwarts,” Harry mused, casting a sidelong
glance at his friend.

Ron didn't answer, he just smiled. Weasley, you’re a lucky bastard.

By lunchtime the next day, Harry Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron. He felt a lot better about this meeting after his
discussion with Ron. And the fact that his friend might join the DA training had lifted Harry's spirits
exponentially. Despite meeting Malfoy, Harry felt buoyant. As soon as he stepped through the fireplace, the
patrons recognised him immediately. Harry made his way straight for Tom, who was, as usual, working the bar.

”Mr Potter, it's an honour,” he heard someone say.

”Thank you, but really, I'm not all that special,” Harry replied as he reached Tom.

”Hello Tom. I'd like a table and lunch for two.”

”Certainly, Mr Potter.” Tom led him to a table by the wall. It was a good table to talk without being overheard,
but still very public. Harry ordered a Butterbeer and waited for Malfoy. The wizards and witches in the tavern
kept stealing glances at him, as if they couldn't believe that the person they've heard and read about so much
was truly real. Five minutes later, Malfoy arrived and sat opposite Harry.

”Potter,” Malfoy said.

”Malfoy,” Harry replied.

Both of them exchanged glances. Clearly, neither of them liked the idea of being seen together. Tom served
their lunch.

”All right, let's get straight to business,” Harry suggested.

”Good. I’m not keen on this little lunch date,” Malfoy sneered.

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”The DA will study Auror Field work among Muggles. The office you're working in stores files where the
Muggleworthy Excuse team had to assist the Auror Office. Gawain has authorized me to get those files and I
want you to dig them out of the archive.”

”That will be so much fun,” Malfoy said ironically. ”But I'll get you those files, Potter.”

”Thanks. I know you will.”

”I'll send an owl when I have them so we can decide how to deliver them.”

Harry nodded and finished his meal. ”I think our business is finished for now.”

”Yes.”

With a handshake, they parted and left the Leaky Cauldron. Harry headed straight for the Ministry and Gawain
Robards, who expected him. ”Come in, Potter,” he said in answer to Harry’s knock. ”Well?”

”Mission accomplished. We were definitely seen, but we left before any reporters caught up to us.”
”Great work, Harry,” Gawain said.

”If anyone heard us they won't be able to tell the reporters anything other than that there was a polite hostility
in our conversation, and that we met on official DA business.”

”This is a good start. Kingsley can use his influence at the Prophet to make sure there's a small article about
your meeting.”

”Good. Gawain, I have a question for you concerning another matter,” Harry said.

”I'm listening.”

”Ron Weasley wants to join the DA Auror Training Program. May I accept him?”

Robards smiled broadly. ”I wondered how long he’d hold out. He’ll have a lot to catch up with, but if he's willing
to work hard, he is a most welcome addition.”

”Thanks, Gawain. He’s eager to get started.”

Harry left the ministry and Flooed back to the Burrow. He, Ginny, Ron and Hermione headed to Ron's room.
”Ron, Gawain said it was all right,” Harry told him on the way up.

Once inside the room, Ron grinned and kissed Hermione soundly as Harry closed the door. ”What’s all right,” she
asked.

”I'm joining the DA Auror Training Program, love,” he told her. ”I'll be at Hogwarts full-time.” His sapphire eyes
danced as he watched Hermione’s reaction.

Her eyes opened wide with delight. ”Really? Honest? Oh Ron, this is wonderful,” she gushed. ”I'm so happy they
accepted you! I missed you so much last semester.” She threw herself into his arms and planted kisses all over
his face. ”I love you!” I want you. I need you.

Harry and Ginny looked on with twinkles in their eyes. ”We’ll be together again at Hogwarts,” Ginny said
excitedly. Oh, the possibilities!

”Ron, we better practice duel every day until we get back to school. You haven't dueled since the battle. In class
the DA duel several times per week, and they're really good.”

”Right. Hermione, will you help me with all that Ministry stuff,” Ron asked hopefully. ”I have loads to catch up
on without loads of time to do it in.”

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Hermione sighed. ”You know I will, but it’ll cost you... I'm prepared to negotiate how much snogging you'll have
to do,” she grinned.

”In that case, money is no object,” Ron said, embracing her again.

”So, Ron and I are becoming Aurors and Ginny is a Chaser on a professional Quidditch team. What will you do
after graduation Hermione,” Harry asked.

”I'll apply to work for increased rights for magical creatures,” she said.

”Taking up SPEW again,” Ginny asked.

”Not exactly. I'll work on behalf of all magical creatures, not just house-elves.”

”With your grades and your fame, you can get any job you want,” Ron assured her.

The morning Prophet had indeed printed a small article about the meeting between Harry and Draco. In an
”official” statement, Robards commented that their meeting had to do with the DA. Since the DA was not part of
the Ministry, there was nothing strange about them meeting at the Leaky Cauldron.

”Old Enemies Meet at the Leaky Cauldron


Yesterday afternoon, Harry Potter was seen having lunch with none other than his schooldays arch-nemesis,
Draco Malfoy. What would bring these two drastically opposed young men together over lunch at the Leaky
Cauldron? Upon further inquiry with the Auror Office, Head Auror Gawain Robards made this statement:

’Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy did, in fact, have a lunch meeting at the Leaky Cauldron on official DA business.
The DA is independent of the Ministry and having no affiliation, it is therefore our opinion that there is nothing
untoward about them meeting there,’ says Mr Robards.
We can safely assume, then, that Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter have formed a working relationship, strained as it may
be, and that Mr Potter, for whatever reason, has placed his trust in Mr Malfoy.

”Nothing like stating the obvious,” Ginny said, handing the paper to Ron.

”Ya think? Ginny, that’s exactly what the Ministry wants,” Ron replied. ”They’re putting up a front for the
investigation, hoping to keep Malfoy honest and this Death Eater person interested.”

”Harry, did Draco say or do anything that would make you not want to trust him,” Ginny asked.

”No, not really. He was definitely nervous, but so was I. So far, though, he’s been up front with us. He even let
me use Legilimency on him once to prove he wasn’t hiding anything,” He told her.

”We’re talking about Draco Malfoy—The Platinum Prince of Slytherin, right,” Hermione said, disbelieving.
”Moody’s—er—Crouch’s pet ferret?”

”The same, Hermione. I know it’s hard to believe, but from all I’ve seen, he’s trying to turn over a new leaf since
his dad’s safely tucked up at Azkaban,” Harry confirmed. ”I guess the prospect of becoming a guest at that little
country club and then avoiding it might’ve adjusted Malfoy’s attitude. But only time will tell.”

”Yeah, but we have to be careful, mate. This cloak-and-wand stuff is pretty dangerous,” Ron said darkly. ”Just go
with your instincts, Harry. They’re usually right.”

Harry and Ron had taken to practice dueling for a couple of hours every day before they returned to Hogwarts.
Harry beat him soundly every time, but it wasn’t for Ron’s lack of skill; he was merely a little rusty and
definitely out of shape, even though he’d buffed up with all the heavy lifting he’d done for George at the shop.
His reflexes definitely needed work.

Ron also dueled at a distinct disadvantage. Harry wasn’t rusty, but the surge in his powers and all that practice
with the DA last term made him virtually unbeatable. To Ron’s credit, though, he’d improved over a short period
of time as his stamina increased.

”You are getting back into shape,” Harry encouraged him, out of breath himself.

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”Yeah? Are the rest of the DA this good too,” Ron gasped, bending over with his palms on his slightly bent
knees.

”I usually beat them, but not easily. You'll be amazed at how much they’ve learned,” Harry said. ”Ready for
some more?”

”Bring it on, mate!”

Harry and Ron dueled for another hour out in the orchard before lunch. As Ron fired spell after spell, Harry
demonstrated how Susan’s tumbling manoeuvres greatly improved one’s chances of avoiding a deadly curse
allowing for a return volley at the same time.

”Blimey, that’s wicked! You say Susan Bones came up with that,” Ron asked, once again out of breath.

”Impressive, yeah? When we first saw her doing it, we were stunned, Ron. Stunned! I immediately implemented
it into our training regimen,” Harry replied. ”You should be able to catch on pretty quickly, though. It’s not really
that hard. We also do weight training, so you’ll be in top physical condition in no time. Besides, we can work out
outside of class, too. Ginny even wants to get herself into better shape before she goes off to Holyhead.” That’s
going to be hell.

”Where do you work out? Hogwarts doesn’t exactly have a weight room,” Ron asked.

”Where do you think? The Room of Requirement serves as an excellent gym. When the weather breaks, we can
run laps around the Quidditch pitch before breakfast,” Harry suggested.

”Hey, that’s not a bad idea. We ought to be quite fit when we take our exams, yeah?”

”That’s the idea, mate. That’s the idea,” Harry laughed. ”Those practicals are brutal!”

They were just about to launch into another series of hexes and jinxes when Molly called from the house,
”Lunch, boys!” She had to have cast Sonorus for her voice to have reached them that clearly all the way down
to the orchard. But if she did, they heard her in London.

”Great! I’m starved,” Ron said rubbing his now-hardening stomach. ”I could eat a hippogriff!”
”Same here, mate,” Harry replied as his own stomach growled. ”I think we need to remember to bring
refreshments down here with us when we train—especially something to drink. In fact...”

”What? In fact, what,” Ron asked as they trudged toward the kitchen door.

”I was just thinking. There are Muggle sports shops that sell equipment for athletes—workout clothes, special
trainers, canvas equipment bags, water bottles, stuff like that,” Harry said.

”Okay, so...what,” Ron asked, not catching on yet.

”I was thinking that maybe, since we’re all so hell-bent on getting fit and fast, I might present the DA with an
after-Christmas Christmas present. Stuff exclusive to the DA in Auror Office colors—maroon and gold, I think.”

”Oh I get it. Like we’re our own sports team, yeah? I mean, we are a team and all...”

”Exactly. Let me think on it for a bit and then you and I can Apparate to London and order it all to be
delivered...bollocks! Where,” Harry exclaimed.

”Why not your cousin’s place? Just owl him and tell him to expect the stuff and then we’ll go pick it up... a
shrinking charm... a rucksack... all done” Ron suggested.

”You’re a genius, mate. Let’s eat!”

Molly was bustling about in the kitchen making sure there was enough food to feed her hungry sons. Ginny and
Hermione had just started eating when their men came through the door. ”There you are, dears. I was just
about to send out a search party for you two,” she scolded good-naturedly. ”Now wash up, quickly now! Your

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lunch is ready.”

Ron and Harry washed their hands and splashed water on their sweating faces before they returned to the table.
Molly had made them all some hot chocolate, since they’d been out training in the cold. Harry sighed
contentedly as the smooth chocolate slid down his throat. ”Molly, this is fantastic! Hot chocolate never tasted so
good,” he said.

”Yeah, Mum. Great idea,” Ron agreed as he shoved a third sandwich into his mouth.

”Gods, Ron! Are you eating those sandwiches or inhaling them,” his sister teased.

”Oh leave him be, Ginny,” Molly said in her youngest son’s defense. ”He’s a growing boy!”

Hermione looked over at the ginger-haired man seated next to her. ”Yes, he is growing isn’t he,” she said silkily.
”Just look at those...”

”Okay, okay. Forget I said anything,” Ginny giggled. ”And speaking of growing boys...” She cast an appreciative
look at Harry. ”Hermione, have you noticed...”

”Enough, you two. Our men are quite handsome, but let’s not go overboard,” Molly chided them. ”At least... not
in front of them!”

Ron and Harry blushed crimson as Molly, Hermione, and Ginny had a good laugh at their expense. ”She wouldn’t
do that if Dad was here,” Ron muttered to Harry. ”Feckless hens.”

”Erm...Molly? Is there any more hot chocolate in that pot,” Harry asked. He didn’t want to stand up unless he
had to. At his fiancée’s silent appreciation of his body, the lion began to stir.

Molly smiled knowingly as she smirked privately at her daughter. She waved her wand over the pot. ”Of course,
Harry dear. Help yourself,” she replied and began to snicker.

Ginny, finally cottoning on, stole a look at Harry’s lap and fell over in fits of laughter.

”Sadist,” Harry grumbled. ”I’ll get you for this, my girl.”

”Is that so,” Ginny teased. ”Then I shall be on my guard.”

Harry grabbed her and began to tickle her mercilessly. Ron had just reached for a fifth sandwich when his best
mate began to take revenge on his snot of a sister. Hermione and Molly held each other as they howled. ”So you
thought you had me, is that right,” Harry teased as he tickled her.

”Harry! Stop! I can’t breathe,” Ginny protested amid screams of laughter. ”You’re in big trouble, Potter!”

”Hmmm, that’s odd. It seems to me that the one in trouble is a certain beautiful redhead screaming for mercy,”
Harry countered, giving her a chance to catch her breath. ”Do you give?”

”Never!”

”Well, if you’re sure...” He resumed his attack on her ribs and belly.

”Harry... J-jame... James... P-potter, stop it... this... inst... instant,” she cried trying to fight him off.

”Do you give,” Harry repeated.

”Yes! Yes! Anything, just please stop,” she begged.

”All right then,” he said calmly and let her breathe again. He returned to his lunch.

”I’ll get you for this, Harry James Potter. I will get you for this,” she said determinedly. I’ve been doing some
reading and I have a big surprise for you, mister!

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”All right, children,” Molly said, wiping her eyes with her apron. Let’s clear away so Harry and Ron can get back
to work.”

Ginny and Hermione arose and began to clear the table and wash up. Molly had asked them to help her with
supper, but the real motivation was to keep the girls from distracting Harry and Ron while they worked to catch
Ron up the best they could before the beginning of term. Hermione would work with Ron on the theoretical and
manual-related material after supper each night.
When they weren’t dueling, Harry had begun to teach Ron Occlumency. Harry had lately tried only to break into
the minds of DA members, but he had scanned Malfoy's mind under consent. He noticed how much easier it was
to enter Ron's mind than those of the members of the DA, but over those last days at the Burrow before the new
term began, Ron had begun to get the hang of it, making it more and more difficult for Harry to break through.

”Good job, mate. You’re getting better. You made me work for it this time,” Harry complimented Ron. ”With a
little more practice, you should be able to shut me out completely.”

”Yeah, I’m just beginning to understand what it feels like to have someone in your head. It’s like having a little
snake wiggling through your brain,” Ron observed.

”Creepy as that sounds, that’s about the best description of the sensation I’ve heard yet,” Harry said. ”You need
to bring that up to the rest of the DA in class. If they teach someone else, they can tell them what to look for.”

Ron’s skill at Wizard's Chess came in handy. His prowess at the game honed his tactical skills to a fine point.
Harry knew his friend’s sharp wit would be invaluable in planning raids and executing manoeuvres. Harry also
guessed that Hermione inspired Ron to become more organised during their study periods after supper. Ron had
a talk with George, telling him why he was leaving his job at the shop.

Ron knocked on his brother’s bedroom door. ”Uh...George? Could I have a word,” Ron asked.

”Sure, little bro,” George said. ”Sit. What’s on your mind?” George thought he knew what his younger brother
was going to say. He’d often watched as he trained with Harry in the orchard and he knew he’d been studying
something with Hermione after supper every night.

”Erm... well... I... uh. I’m quitting,” he said nervously. ”I have to, George. I want to be an Auror like Harry. It’s
what we’ve wanted to do since fifth year when Umbridge told Harry he’d never make it. That’s when we both
decided that’s what we wanted to do.”

”So... you’re going back to Hogwarts then,” George asked. ”You’re joining the DA trainees?”

”Yeah, Harry worked it out with Gawain Robards. He’s the Head Auror at the Ministry,” Ron replied, relaxing a
little. ”I’m a bit behind, but Harry’s been training with me in the orchard every morning, and Hemione’s been
helping me study the theory every night after supper.”

”You’re really keen on this, aren’t you,” George asked with a slight grin. ”I saw this coming, you know.”

”Yeah? How’d you know,” Ron asked.

”Simple. Ever since Harry and the girls came home for Christmas break, you’ve all but interrogated him about
the DA class,” George said.

”You’re right, I guess. But I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you or...”

”No worries, brother. I'll manage. And this way I can offer your job to Angelina.”
”Speaking of Angelina, whatever happened after you wrote that letter,” Ron asked.

”She wrote back, we met, and we're together now,” George smiled.

”I do hope you plan on helping her with the stocking chores,” Ron grinned. ”She’s a bit smaller than me.”

”Again, no worries. Looks like I’ll be bulking up now,” George laughed.

The last day at the Burrow found Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione packing their trunks for their last term at

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Hogwarts. While he was emptying his dresser drawers, he came across the manual on the legal use of
Unforgivable curses by an Auror. He had completely forgotten about it, so he sat down to read it. Kingsley had
told him it wasn't as bad as he thought, but Harry couldn’t imagine how casting an Unforgivable curse couldn’t
be as bad as he knew.

The killing curse could be used as a last resort against a criminal in order to save innocent lives. It was never to
be used in a duel under any circumstances.

The Cruciatus curse could be used very much under the same pretenses as Veritaserum. If lives depended on
getting immediate information, Veritaserum could be administered or the Cruciatus curse could be
implemented.

Finally, the Imperius curse was authorized for use only as a planned part of an operation. This meant the Head
of the Auror Office had to approve the use of Imperius curse beforehand and had to be aware of what the Auror
intended to coerce the Imperiused person to do. This was important because Imperiused persons could not be
held over for trial for their actions under an Imperius cast by Aurors, because that person would not be
responsible for his or her own actions.

It was recommended that the use of Unforgivable must include at least two Aurors. All Aurors involved had to
agree to having their memories scrutinised in a Pensieve or submit to questioning under Veritaserum, should
there be any doubt as to the propriety of the use of an Unforgivable. Still, Harry didn't like that he had to learn
to cast them and then teach the DA to do so as well. I don’t want this for my team. We don’t hate. He was
interrupted by Molly who demanded his and Ginny's presence in the kitchen immediately.

”All right. Here is the guest list for the wedding, but you must add your friends,” Molly said. ”And here is a long
list of suggestions for the feast. Please look at it.”

There was no doubt that Molly was going to give them a grand wedding, and she probably wanted to make up for
Bill's and Fleur's interrupted one. Harry read the guest list and stopped at Vernon and Petunia Dursley. ”Is she
going to invite them?”

”I think she put them on the list for us to consider. It’s our wedding after all. What do you think about it,” Ginny
asked him. She knew he was torn between mercy and justice. His turmoil coursed through their bond.

”Well, they are my aunt and uncle...but they treated me worse than a house-elf. I guess the proper thing is to
invite them. They probably won't come anyway,” Harry said.
”And we have to invite Aunt Muriel,” Ginny added, rolling her eyes.

”But isn't it a good thing that the famous Quidditch star marries the famous Chosen One,” Harry asked
ironically.

”You never know anything for certain with aunt Muriel. She's quite good at being rude and mean to everyone.”

The next name on the list was Dudley Dursley. ”I actually want to invite him,...and Penny,” Harry said. ”I guess
that’s it for family.”

”Pretty much,” Ginny agreed. ”What about our friends?”

”Well, I think the guest list from the New Year’s party sums it up rather nicely, don’t you,” Harry asked.

”I’ll be Hermione still has it. I’ll be right back,” Ginny said as she sprinted up the stairs to Ron’s door. She
knocked. No answer. She knocked again. No answer. Realising what was happening, she crept away from the
door and back down the stairs.

”Did she have the list,” Harry asked.

”Uh...well, I don’t know yet,” she replied, reddening. ”They...uh...didn’t answer the door when I knocked.”

Harry was about to get up and go see for himself when dawn broke over his horizon once again. ”Oh...oh...uh...I
guess we’ll have to just add names and check them against Hermione’s list after supper.”

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Once they’d added their friends’ names to the list, they realised it was shaping up to be a big event. Perusing
Molly’s suggestions for the menu turned out to be lot more fun. Molly had included all of their favourite foods on
the list.

”Molly, are you really going to be able to pull this off? It's a huge undertaking,” Harry said with a worried look.

”Nonsense, Harry. I want to do this.”

”At least let Kreacher help then. He’ll feel bad if he isn’t included in the preparations.”

Molly sighed and looked at them. ”All right. I suppose you’re right. I could use his help. House-elves are efficient
little creatures, that’s for sure,” Molly admitted.

”Kreacher,” Harry called.


Crack! ”Yes Mas—Harry. You called Kreacher?”

”Yes, I did. Listen, Ginny and I want to invite you to the wedding. Would you like to come,” Harry asked the old
elf.
”Kreacher is honoured to serve... invite...Wizards doesn't invite house-elves, ” he said with his house-elf smile.

"This wizard does," Harry said. "And I would also like to ask you to assist Molly with the preparations."

"Kreacher, this is going to be a big job. Would you mind helping me with the preparations," Molly asked him
kindly.

”Kreacher looked at Harry. "Kreacher is honoured to attend...Kreacher is glad to assist Madame Weasley in any
way he can,” he said with a huge elf-grin. ”Madame Weasley has only to ask.”

”It’s settled then. Kreacher, when Madame Weasley calls, you answer her, all right,” Harry said.

”Kreacher will answer,” he said, bowing.

”Thanks, old friend. You may return to Grimmauld Place or join us at Hogwarts. Whichever you prefer,” Harry
told him.

”Kreacher shall return home, Mas—Harry.”

”Very well. Goodnight, Kreacher.” The House-elf disappeared with a crack!

Since it was her last chance to stuff her children before they returned to school, she prepared a veritable feast
for supper that night, including as many of their favorite foods as the old scrubbed oak table could hold. She
dabbed at her eyes with her napkin throughout the entire meal, her eyes especially falling on Ron and Harry.
Her two youngest boys were training to become Aurors—the elite of the Ministry’s Law Enforcement Division.
She couldn’t be prouder...or more worried.

After supper, Ginny asked Hermione for her guest list from the party so they could finalise the one for the
wedding. She and Harry sat at the table and made whatever adjustments needed to be made while Hermione
and Ron studied Ministry infrastructure. George had gone out for the evening, presumably with Angelina and
wouldn’t be home until late. Molly and Arthur had repaired to the living room where they listened to the wireless
while Molly knitted baby things for their unborn grandchild.

As if no time had passed at all, the old clock struck ten. ”All right, dears,” Molly called from the living room.
”Bed. You’ve got a long day ahead of you tomorrow.” Hermione and Ron closed their books and Harry and Ginny
handed Molly their finalised guest list.

”Here it is, Mum,” Ginny said. ”It’s all ready to go.”

”Molly, are you sure about this? There’ve got to be two-hundred-fifty people on that list at least.”

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”I’m sure Kreacher and I will manage just fine, dear,” Molly replied patting his cheek. ”Don’t you worry about a
thing.”

”Come on, Harry. There’s no point in arguing,” Ginny sighed, pulling him toward the stairs.

”Good girl,” Molly said, shepherding them toward the stairs behind Ron and Hermione. ”Goodnight.”

”Night,” they all chimed in chorus as they disappeared into their respective rooms.

Harry and Ginny undressed and climbed into bed to cuddle a bit before they went to sleep. Ginny lay her head
on Harry’s bare chest and listened to his heartbeat. She could still feel a little bit of conflict through their bond.

”Harry, Love.”

”Yeah, Gin.”

”What’s bothering you?”

”Why do you think something’s bothering me?”

”I can feel it. I could feel it while we were working on the guest list, too.”

”Is it that obvious?”

”I’m afraid so, Love.”

Harry sighed. ”I found that manual today while I was packing.”

”What manual...oh. That manual.”

”Yeah. That manual. I read it.”

”And...”

”Well...there are some pretty strict rules and guidelines that go with using them, but I still don’t want my team
to resort to it.”

”So you learn them and then forbid them to use them. That simple. That way, you satisfy the training
requirements and still maintain control of your team, keeping your conscience at bay.”

”But you’re my conscience and I certainly don’t want to keep you at bay,” Harry said with his Harry-grin.

”You’re feeling better. The conflict is gone, but you’re feeling a bit randy...”

”Gin, I’m always feeling a bit randy. I’m a bloke, remember?”

”This is true. You know what? I owe you for lunchtime the other day, you know.”

”Uh oh. Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?”

”Because you are. She drew her wand and imperturbed the bedroom door. Then she turned it on Harry.
”Incarcerus.”

Invisible bonds held Harry immobile. ”Gin, what are you doing?”

”You’ll see. Payback is a bitch, Potter,” she purred as she began to kiss him from his lips to his chin and around
his throat. She began to run her hands over Harry’s chest and belly as she moved further south with her kisses.
She took her wand in hand once again. ”Evanesca!” He was naked and at her mercy.

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Chapter 12: Silence Is Golden


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Chapter 12 – Silence Is Golden

She read the Daily Prophet, thinking about a small notice about Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter meeting at The
Leaky Cauldron.

”I thought those two hated each other,” her servant said.

”Yes, this is troubling. Is it something to catch our attention and a ministry trap, or is it a possibility,” she
mumbled mostly to herself.

Everything depended on her true goal being kept secret. The longer the Ministry thought she was planning to
take over the Ministry of Magic, the better. That meant she had to play along with Malfoy. Yes, he was important
to causing the Ministry to focus on the wrong objective, but apart from that, he was expendable. On the other
hand, she couldn't deny that Malfoy might serve another purpose if he had access to Harry Potter. Of all the
people she knew who had contact with Harry Potter, Malfoy was the only one who ever expressed sharing Death
Eater values.

Potter was too well-protected to Imperius someone close to him. They would notice. Potter spent a lot of time
with the Aurors, and that filthy Mudblood Granger girl was too intelligent to miss even the tiniest detail. Potter
was the one she wanted to hurt more than anyone else, so any knowledge she might glean about him might
help to make his suffering greater.

She glared at her servant. ”We can't risk doing anything hasty. Ask Malfoy for details about his meeting with
Potter, but don't make him any promises,” she ordered.

Harry stared out the window from his and Ginny's room at Hogwarts. Despite a warm fire he felt chilly. He
thought a lot about the plot and the mysterious Death Eater. At this point, the best thing he could do was to
wait for Draco to find those reports, and work harder with DA. Harry felt loads better now that Ron was back at
Hogwarts. His absence last term left Harry often feeling as though a part of him was missing, like an arm.
Hogwarts just wasn’t Hogwarts without Ron Weasley. Seamus had been happy too, because he had been living
alone in the Gryffindor DA boys' dorm. With Ron back, they shared that dorm again, just like old times. Harry
had promised to visit them later on. But no one was happier with the return of R.B. Weasley than a certain H.J.
Granger, who beamed with happiness almost constantly.

Following the Beginning of Term feast, the DA gathered around Harry, Ginny and Hermione included, as Harry
took stock of his team.

Seamus had learned so much control—he had become much more focused and less cocky.

Terry had made great strides with the theoretical subjects, being a Ravenclaw, but he had really become quite
good at dueling too. However, Auror work demanded a lot more than skill at duel. Terry still needed to focus.

Anthony had proven why he’d been a good prefect, displaying outstanding leadership qualities.

Susan was a very down-to-earth girl, and it seemed nothing rattled her. She was one of the best at Occlumency
and her fighting skills had improved a lot, much of it owing to the expert tumbling skills she had been able to
implement into her duelling style.

Lavender, such a girly-girl, was now so different from the ditzy blonde who had constantly wrapped herself
around Ron in their sixth year. It had taken a long time for her to recover from her wartime injuries, but she
was a seasoned veteran now. Yes, Lavender was still girly, but very dangerous if underestimated.

Cho was the one who’d come the farthest since the program began. Once she was finally able to come to terms
with Cedric Diggory’s death, she had found the emotional control needed to train with focus. She was among the

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best in both Legilimency and Occlumency and in a duel, her spells were powerful because of her strong emotion.

Finally Ron, his best friend, was still a bit out of shape, but added strength to the group. His size alone was
intimidating, but he was also a seasoned veteran. Except for Harry, no one had faced more dark arts than Ron.
Harry trusted him more than any other in the DA. Ron was his best mate, and eventually, he would become his
partner if he, Harry, had anything to say about it.

”We resume training tomorrow morning,” Harry told them. ”We’ll continue dueling as usual, but there's a lot
more to cover in the Field Manual. We’ll begin with a special section covering the Unforgivables.”

”What,” Susan asked in shock.

”I know, I know. I don’t like it either, especially after the discussion we had about the Cruciatus and killing
curses last term. But there are circumstances in which an Auror is authorized to use the Unforgivables. The
upside is that there are very strict rules as to their use and strong repercussions for not adhering to those
rules,” Harry explained.

”Merlin, I didn't know that,” Anthony said, shaking his head.

”The rules are very strict.” Harry added. ”And just between you lot and me, I’d rather not use them at all. In
fact, on my team they are...as the Germans would say...strictly verboten! This team does not operate like that.
However, we still have to learn them. It’s part of the training curriculum and we’re stuck with it.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. All of them had seen, many been targets of, the Unforgivables in use and
knew perfectly well why they were classified as Unforgivable curses. Cho looked around and smiled. ”It's so good
to be back at Hogwarts. I missed dueling practice,” she said, changing the subject.

”Me too,” Lavender agreed.

”One more thing: I think Professor McGonagall has our teaching schedule for Defence Against the Dark Arts. I
expect she’ll give it to me tomorrow so I can give you your teaching assignments,” Harry said. ”Now, if anyone
has no further questions, comments, or observations, we’re done for tonight.” With that the informal meeting
ended.

Harry, Ginny and Hermione joined Ron and Seamus in their dorm. ”Did they somehow add the dorm this year,”
Ginny asked.
”Yes. Haven’t you read Hogwarts: A History,” Hermione asked with a sigh.

”No, ’Mione love,” Ron said patting her hand. ”You’re the only one who ever has.”

”Judging by you lot, that’s probably true. The basic layout of the castle can't be changed, but additional dorms or
classrooms can always be added...or removed,” she explained, looking flattered rather than intimidated by Ron's
remark.

”It looks like a smaller version of our old dorm,” Harry said.

”And it will be so much better with Ron living here, too. You sure you don't want to join us, Harry,” Seamus
grinned, the familiar impish twinkle in his eyes.

”If you could convince Ginny.” Harry said ironically. ”Which I can guarantee you won’t.”

Ginny looked at Seamus. ”Madame Pomfrey would have to brew something stronger than Skele-Gro to put you
back together, Finnegan,” Ginny said.

”So do you think you could defeat an almost-Auror in a duel,” Seamus challenged, half-joking, half-serious.
Bollocks. Both Harry and Ron tried to hide, seeing the fire in Ginny's eyes.

”I don't have a lesson tomorrow morning, Seamus. I could join the DA class and wipe the floor with you if you
like,” Ginny said accepting the smarmy Irishman’s challenge.

Harry looked at Seamus and shook his head in warning. To voluntarily place oneself at the receiving end of any

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one of Ginny's curses was not wise, almost-Auror or not. Ron’s face was screwed up in an expression like an
Acromantula had appeared in the room.

”All right,” Seamus said disregarding Harry's and Ron's warnings. ”You’re on, Miss Weasley.”

Harry smiled. ”This’ll be fun. But to be clear about this: I'd never leave Ginny's and my room.”

”Good, Harry, because you'd find yourself in the bed next to Seamus' in the hospital wing hoping for your bits to
grow back if you did,” Ginny said snarkily.

A while later, Ron walked Hermione to her dorm while Harry and Ginny headed back to their room.

”I’m going to miss you tonight, love,” Ron whispered to Hermione in front of the huge fireplace in the Gryffindor
common room. ”I got used to holding you all night.”

”I got used to being held,” she confessed laying her head against his chest, ”among other things.”

”Well let’s see...” Ron replied, looking around. ”Ah! A sofa—a rather large sofa. Shall we?”

They sat down together on the sofa. The common room was all but deserted, since everyone else had either
turned in for the night. Ron pulled Hermione into his lap to stare into her eyes. The firelight played on his red
hair, creating the illusion that he glowed. He is Apollo, my ginger god.

”What are you thinking, ’Mione,” Ron asked her. ”You’ve got the most peculiar look on that lovely face of
yours.”

”I was thinking about how handsome you are,” she said softly. ”And how much I love you.”

His blue eyes sparkled in the firelight. ”And what else?”

”How fascinated I am that you’ve competed with your brothers since birth, but there’s really no contest,” she
said, stroking his hair. ”You are an absolute god, Ronald Weasley. You put them all to shame. You’re kind,
loving, brave, gallant, strong, gorgeous...all the qualities of a god. And when the firelight plays off your hair,
you shine like a god.” She pulled his head down and pressed her lips to his. ”And I am your most humble
devotee.”

Ron didn’t know what to make of this. He recalled how, in the throes of passion, Hermione had called him her
ginger god. This beautiful creature in my arms—a goddess in her own right—really thinks of me as a god. ”Gods
need goddesses, ’Mione, and if I’m a god, then you’re my goddess.

”Oh Ron, I’m not...”

”What do you mean, you’re not. You’re smart, funny, beautiful, kind, sexy...” He leaned in and claimed her lips
with his own. She whimpered softly and arched into him, twisting her fist into his flaming locks. He ran his
tongue along her bottom lip and then slipped it into her eager mouth. ”I love you so much,” he said, his voice
becoming raspy with emotion.

Hermione moaned as Ron nibbled at her pulse point, kissing and biting. She threw back her head, tossing her
curly mane over his arms as they held her. ”Ron...that feels so good,” she groaned. She slid her hands under his
jumper and tee-shirt. She could feel his defined chest muscles ripple under her touch. She growled softly and
crushed her mouth to his and all conscious thought left her.

Ron moaned like distant rolling thunder and grabbed a fistful of her brown locks, returning her kiss with the
fierceness of a great, roaring beast. ”’Mione, my ’Mione,” he groaned as he slipped his free hand under her
blouse and caressed her stomach. ”So beautiful...so mine.”

They were firmly ensconced in a full-out snog, both knowing they dare not go any further. The Prefects would be
returning from rounds soon and they both needed to get to bed. Hermione would be diving headlong into her
studies to prepare for her N.E.W.T.s and Ron had vigourous training in the morning with Harry and the DA.
Besides, Seamus was upstairs and if he didn’t hear Ron come up sometime soon, he’d be sure to come down and
investigate.

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Hermione lay in Ron’s arms on the sofa. They shared a few kisses and caresses as they came back to themselves
and grim reality. ”I suppose you should get to bed,” Ron said kissing her forehead. ”You’ve got a lot of work
coming on.”

”And you’ve got some very physical training ahead of you,” Hermione replied as she reluctantly slid off his lap.

He stood and escorted her to the staircase that led to the girls’ dorm. ”Then this is goodnight then, my goddess,”
Ron said as he leaned in for a goodnight kiss.

”Goodnight, my ginger god,” she whispered and returned his kiss. ”I love you.”

”I love you too, ’Mione. See you in the morning,” he whispered as he let her go.

Ron watched as she climbed the stairs and disappeared from view. He crossed the room and ascended the stairs
to his own dorm. He entered quietly so as not to disturb Seamus, who was sleeping in the other bed. He looked
around. It was good to be back. It had been a lot of fun working with George, but Hogwarts was Hogwarts,
Hermione was here, and becoming an Auror his dream.

When Harry and Ginny opened the door to their room, Ginny felt a chill in the air. She shivered and ran her
hands up and down her goose-pimply arms. Harry drew her into the warmth of his embrace.

”Allow me, dear lady,” Harry said as he waved his hand in front of the fireplace. A blazing fire erupted in the
grate.

”Thou are most gallant, kind sir,” she replied as she rested her head on his chest. ”’Tis wondrous well that thou
wouldst do such magic as to remove the chill from these wearied bones.”

”Perhaps a kneading then,” Harry suggested. ”My hands could warm thee.”

Ginny smiled slightly and shook her head.”Actually, Harry, I’d like to just talk a bit...if you don’t mind.”

”Sure, Gin,” Harry said as he sat down with her before the fire. ”What would you like to talk about?”

”I’ve been thinking about how you broke the news about the Unforgivables to the DA,” she replied.

”All through supper, I could tell you were struggling with it, but I didn’t say anything.”

”I just kept thinking about what you said to me that night. You were right and I knew it,” Harry declared. ”So I
just decided to tell it like it is and hope for the best.”

”And it worked out. No explosions, no shouted protests,” she said, stroking his cheek. ”In fact, I was surprised
you didn’t get a little argument...especially from Ron, with Hermione there.” She felt a surge of panic through
their bond. ”Harry, I know what happened to her. She told me.”

Harry’s emerald eyes flashed and darkened. ”Ginny, that night was horrible. Hermione’s screams...” He choked
up a little. ”I hated Bellatrix Lestrange for what she was doing to Hermione and it tore me apart that I couldn’t
stop it. Ron was in his own private hell. Ginny, he literally tried to tear that cell apart with his bare hands to get
to her...he was like a caged animal.”

Harry began to shake. He hadn’t shaken like that in months. Ginny sent the unspoken thing through the bond to
calm him. ”It’s all right, love. It’s over.” Me and my big mouth.

”I’d never seen Ron like that, Gin,” Harry said a bit calmer. ”I had never heard a human being cry like that... it
chilled me to the bone. It sounded as though his heart and soul were being torn from his chest with every
scream. When we finally got to her—I’ll tell you how that happened another time—When we were freed from
that dungeon, Bellatrix was still torturing Hermione, but that was just play. They were going to toss her to

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Grayback.”

”Grayback! Harry, tell me you’re joking,” Ginny gasped. ”They couldn’t!”

”Ginny, Ron went ballistic—mean-angry-mad. What happened next happened so fast, I can’t quite remember
anymore, but spells and wands flew, Ron had Hermione in his arms, throwing spells and shouting invective like a
madman...and then we found ourselves in the garden at Shell. That’s when...when Dobby...”

”I know...I know,” Ginny cooed as she brushed a lock of hair from his dampened brow. Tears began to well for
his friend, the dear house-elf who had taken Bellatrix’s knife in the chest to save Harry and his Wheezy.

”Looking back—way back, something occurred to me. When they brought us into Malfoy Manor that night, they
wanted Draco to identify us,” Harry said slowly shaking his head. ”He couldn’t...or wouldn’t. It was obvious he
didn’t want to be there, Gin. It’s like he was just realising that the whole Death Eater thing wasn’t quite the fun
and games he thought it would be.”

”And this is relevant because...” she asked, truly puzzled as to why Harry would bring Malfoy’s name into the
conversation.

”Because of mine and Ron’s first ride on the Hogwarts Express,” he said. ”I had met Draco in Diagon Alley when
Hagrid took me there on my eleventh birthday. It was at Madame Malkin’s. When I walked in there to be fitted
for my first school robes, he was there being fitted for his. He was cordial enough to me, but the things he said
weren’t very nice. He ran Hufflepuff House down miserably. Of course, I didn’t have the first clue what he was
talking about, so I just let him talk, but I knew already I didn’t like him.”

”And so what happened on the train,” Ginny asked.

”Well, I’d already met your family, obviously. I was sitting alone in a compartment when Ron asked if he could
sit with me because the other compartments were full, so I invited him in. We began to talk. He had to get over
the famous Harry Potter wicked scar thing, but after that it was like we’d been friends for ages. I bought a bunch
of stuff off the trolley I’d never seen before, let alone heard of. Ron was explaining it all, especially about
Chocolate Frog cards, when Malfoy and his goons invaded our space,” Harry recalled.

”Ron told us about this! Didn’t Malfoy say something about associating with the right Wizarding families or
something,” Ginny asked.

”Yeah. He said that some Wizarding families were better than others and that he could help me there. He offered
me his hand. Just to be polite, I almost shook it...but something stopped me. I could never put my finger on it
until just now,” Harry said, looking into her eyes.

”What, Harry?”

”Your family. Ron. I told Malfoy and his goons that I could choose my own friends, thanks. Ginny, I had never
had any real friends before. Dudley chased anyone off who even tried, but for the first time, I had made a friend
Dudley couldn’t do anything about and I wasn’t going to screw that up,” Harry confessed. ”Gin, your mum’s
kindness...and Ron...got to me first! Everything I am I owe to your family. I shudder to think what I’d be if I’d
shaken Malfoy’s hand that day on the train. I could have become...a Death Eater. And then Kingsley handed me
that manual...that’s why I felt like a hypocrite. Everything I’d fought for, the values I’d embraced, your...our
family—Ginny, I was afraid that accepting that manual and what it taught was going to blow it all away. I
couldn’t bear it.”

”But Harry, we’ve been over this...” Ginny protested.

”I know, Gin. That’s why I was able to tell them,” Harry said. ”I was able to confidently tell them what we had to
learn and why, because you straightened me out...because no matter what, you would still love me and never
leave me.”

Ginny’s eyes began to glisten. She could feel the love Harry sent through their bond. ”Do you remember what
you said to them...us? You said that even though they...we had to learn those curses and be able to cast them,
you forbade them...us to ever use them on your team,” she said. ”That told them what Ron, Hermione, and I
already knew. Harry, it told them where you stand and that what you say is more than just words—it’s who you

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are.”

”I meant it, Gin. I will not allow it for any reason. There’s always a better way...always a choice. Professor
Dumbledore taught me that,” Harry said thoughtfully. ”But if I had to use one of those curses, Merlin forbid, it’d
be Imperio. I could coerce the person into spilling his or her guts. If that didn’t work, I’d use Veritaserum. No
pain, no maiming, no death. And if confessing or passing information might put that person’s life in danger, then
I could petition the Ministry to take him or her into protective custody.”

”What does that mean,” Ginny asked.

”There’s something I read a few years ago about the criminal justice system. Muggle America has something
called the Witness Protection Program. It’s meant to protect witnesses for super-high-profile court cases.
Sometimes, they have to give the witness a new identity and everything. Muggle Britain has something like it,
but I’m not sure about Wizarding Britain.”

”And protective custody is...”

”It depends. If the witness is also a suspect, he or she is placed in a gaol cell or prison cell apart from the
general inmate population and guarded twenty-four seven,” Harry explained. ”If the witness is not a suspect, he
or she is placed into a lesser form of the Witness Protection Program and taken to a safe house where that
person—and sometimes his or her family—are protected twenty-four seven by plain-clothes law enforcement
officers. Sometimes they pose as family members, but usually they work in shifts. That one’s a bit more
complicated because sometimes the safe house is in another city, but sometimes it isn’t.”

”Isn’t that what the Order was doing with you, in a way,” Ginny asked.

”Pretty much, yeah. The difference is that the Order of the Phoenix aren’t associated with the Magical Law
Enforcement Department, even though a few of them, like Tonks and Kingsley, were Aurors.”

”So you want to start something like this through the Ministry,” Ginny concluded.

”Yes. It might preclude us from ever having to use the Unforgivables,” Harry said. ”Someday, when I’m a fully-
fledged Auror and in a position to do so, Ginny, I’m going to propose this to Kingsley and Robards.”

”You’ve really given this a lot of thought, haven’t you? You care so much...sometimes too much for your own
good, but I love you for it anyway,” she said as she sent a wave of devotion through their bond.

”I love you too, Gin,” he whispered and pulled her close, sending the unspoken thing through their bond.

”Harry.”

”Yes.”

”Will you marry me?”

”I thought you’d never ask.”

They held one another in front of the fireplace, teasing and laughing between kisses and caresses, until the fire
began to die and it was time for bed. There would be classes tomorrow and for Ginny, the workload was sure to
intensify. She would need every ounce of love and support Harry could give her to get her through her studies
and the Quidditch season. He picked her up and carried her to bed as a loving parent would carry a sleeping
child.

”Come on, Gin. Let’s get you ready for bed. You’re all in,” Harry urged softly. He helped her out of her jumper
and jeans, dressed her in one of his old tee-shirts and tucked her into bed. He changed into his flannel pajama
bottoms and slipped in beside her. She cuddled up to him as he wrapped his arm around her waist. ”Goodnight,
Gin. I love you.”

”Goodnight, Harry. I love you,” she murmured into his chest. They were both fast asleep in a matter of minutes.

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Harry called the DA class to order. ”All right, people! We had a little challenge issued in Gryffindor Tower last
night. It seems that Seamus, here, thinks he can defeat Ginny in a duel. So to settle this, they’ll begin today's
class with a friendly duel,” Harry announced. Ginny stepped forward to meet Seamus now-intense glare.”You
know the rules. No spells that’ll keep either of you in the hospital wing longer than a few hours.”

Ginny and Seamus nodded in agreement, then turned to each other, bowed, and saluted. Seamus took a side
stance, knees slightly bent, with his wand at the ready. Ginny, however, stood like a warrior. She took a side
stance like Seamus, but she drew her wand back over her head, with her left arm straight out in front of her,
her knees slightly bend. Her eyes blazed as she focused all concentration on her opponent. Seamus stared back
at her with equal ferocity.

”Duel!” On Harry’s command, the duel began. Despite not having as much practice as Seamus, Ginny proved she
could hold her own in a fight. What’s the matter, Irish? Not what you expected?

They fired hexes and jinxes at one another in rapid succession, leaping and spinning to dodge one another’s
volleys. Seamus' shielding charm held off any of her curses that might have hit him, but the raw power behind
them shook the room.

Seamus began to get nervous. What the bloody hell have I got myself into? He continued to spin, leap, and
sidestep Ginny’s volleys, but having to move around so fast kept him from maintaining his shield as efficiently as
he would have liked. His classmates shouted encouragement at him as he continued to hold off Ginny’s
advances, but he couldn’t help but marvel at her speed and grace.

As he watched, seemingly emotionless, betraying none of his thoughts or feelings to the class, Harry homed in
on Ginny's emotions. She was calm and focused, and there was a power growing within her that felt much like
his own surges several months before. He also had to admit that that warrior stance she took at the beginning
seriously turned him on.

Jets of red and blue light flew across the room as Ginny and Seamus battled on. The shouting from the sidelines
had stopped as the class—Ron included—looked on in stunned silence, their mouths agape. Blimey! When did my
sister become a warrior queen?

”Stupefy!” Ron was snapped from his thoughts as Seamus flew backward a few metres and landed on his arse,
vigourously shaking his head. The force of Ginny’s spell shattered Seamus’ shield. In the next instant, Ginny
cast a non-verbal Expelliarmus, deftly caught Seamus wand in her free hand, and raised it in triumph. She’d
beaten an almost-Auror in a fair duel, much to her fiancé’s—and her brother’s—delight.

”All right there, Irish,” Ginny asked as she extended her hand to help him up.

”Great duel, Ginny,” Seamus said, his eyes still a little out of focus. Then he stepped closer to her and said, ”You
ruddy well kicked my arse.”

”Yes, it was a lot of fun,” Ginny replied and returned his wand. The two shook hands and parted.

”Good fighting, both of you,” Harry said and turned to the class. ”Now, why did Ginny win?”

Everyone kept silent for a few moments as they analyzed the duel. Harry could see they wanted to discuss it
amongst themselves, but that wasn’t the exercise here and they knew it.

Terry raised his hand. ”I think they’re evenly-matched skill-wise...and they do have impressive skills...but I
think Ginny won on raw power in the end. I have never felt a charm shake a room like that.”

”I agree,” Cho said. ”Seamus and Ginny are equally matched in skill and agility, but Ginny’s more powerful.”

”I know my sister is powerful; my brothers and I learned it the hard way,” Ron confessed. ”Seamus didn't know,
though, so I think Ginny beat him because he underestimated her.” Bet you’ll never do that again.

Harry nodded. Ron, ever the tactician. ”Right in one, Ron. This is a very important lesson, people. Just because

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we fought Death Eaters and are in Auror training, we are not invincible. We must never underestimate an
opponent in a duel because there’s always somebody out there better and more experienced than any one of
us.”

”I did underestimate Ginny,” Seamus admitted and turned to her. ”Ya beat me, but quite honestly, I don't know
if I could beat you even if I hadn't. And where did ya learn that pose, if ya don’t mind me askin’?”

”Thank you, Seamus. I learned that from Tonks a couple of years ago,” Ginny said with a slight smile. ”I was
watching her drill with Moody and Remus at Grimmauld Place, so I practiced it in front of my mirror in my room
at the Burrow. I figured this would be a great opportunity to try it out.”

Ginny gathered up her things and headed for the door. Harry stopped her before she opened it to leave. ”You
were brilliant, you know that don’t you? That warrior-like stance of yours... well...we’ll discuss it after classes
before dinner.” He leaned in and kissed her. ”See you at lunch, Love.”

”I’ll be counting the moments,” she whispered and walked out the door.

Harry turned back into the classroom where he was met with wolf-whistles and howls from his team. Ron stood
there with his arms crossed on his chest just snickering. ”Honestly, mate. You’ll snog her anywhere, won’t you?”

”Okay, fun’s over. Time to get back to work. Pair off and start dueling.” Ron squared off opposite Harry. Since
Harry had been training Ron himself over the past two weeks to catch him up, he decided that he should
continue that until he was sure Ron was polished enough to take on the others. Actually, he had few doubts, but
he wanted everyone to be safe.

About a half hour into the drill, Robards arrived. He couldn’t believe his eyes. If he didn’t know better, he’d
swear the eight people in that classroom were fighting a full-scale war against one another. Robards watched in
utter disbelief at the speed and agility these young people displayed. They fired spells in rapid-fire and dodged
them ably, leaping, spinning, and rolling when they weren’t using shields. This Potter kid is bloody fantastic! He
let them go on for a short bit, but decided it was time to get down to business.
BANG!

All activity ceased as Robards fired a cannon blast from his wand. ”Now that I have your attention...” he said
with a hint of amusement in his tone. ”Potter, call the class to order, will you?”

”DA, you heard the man,” Harry called. Once they settled into their seats, Harry introduced them. ”This is
Gawain Robards, Head Auror—our boss. Gawain, this is the DA. Seamus Finnegan, Lavender Brown, Terry Boot,
Anthony Goldstein, Susan Bones, Cho Chang, and Ron Weasley,” Harry pointed out each one as he called his or
her name. Each raised a hand in reply.

”This is the supplement to your Auror Field Manual Potter should have told you about,” he looked at Harry, who
nodded. ”Before we go any further, I want you to read it. Now.” Harry levitated one to each of them and they
settled down to read. Harry leaned against the desk with his arms crossed and stared at the floor.

”Kingsley said you didn’t like this,” Robards said to him just over a whisper. ”What do the DA think?”

”They don’t like it either, but they’re willing to learn it since it’s required,” Harry answered. ”Gawain, you have
to understand what this lot has been through. Most of them have been Imperiused and Crucioed. The thought of
using these on another...”

”I know. It turns their stomachs. I understand, Harry. Nobody who’s trained to be an Auror yet likes it. It’s
nothing new,” Robards explained. ”Call it a necessary evil.”

”Evil is never necessary, sir,” Harry snapped. ”We’ve agreed to learn them and understand them, but we’ll be
hard-pressed to ever resort to using them.”

”Good man,” Robards said, slapping Harry’s back. ”That’s why the rules are as strict as they are, but be careful,
Potter. That noble nature of yours might get you killed.”

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”I have Ron Weasley on my team, sir,” Harry said confidently. ”He’s one helluva tactician. With a good plan and
a good team to execute it, there won’t be much need for necessary evils.”

Soon there was a rustling of parchment and a shuffling of feet. ”Uh...Harry? Auror Robards,” Ron called. ”We’re
all finished, sir.”

”Very good, very good. Thank you, Weasley.” He took a stack of parchments from a file folder and distributed
them among the class, including Harry. ”First of all I want you to read and sign these documents.” Harry and the
others read their individual parchments. They were the permit that allowed the DA members to cast the
Cruciatus and the Imperius curse at each other in class, while supervised by the Auror office.

”This is the most difficult and most arduous part of Auror training and it is taking place now, so we have a lot of
time to discuss and deal with it afterwards,” Robards told them. ”I know this is hard for you. I don't think we’ve
ever had so many in one Auror training group who’ve seen and experienced the Unforgivables as much as you
have. I know what some of you endured here last year, but believe me, this is a necessary part of your training.
We’re not asking you to like it or even agree with it. You just have to learn it.” Gawain paused for effect.

Ron thought about Ginny. What did Ginny endure? ”Excuse me, Auror Robards. But why do we have to be able
to cast these curses? Aren’t they Unforgivable for a reason? I mean, wizards and witches have been handed life
sentences in Azkaban for using them. Isn’t our use of them rather...uh...hypocritical?”

”Good points, Weasley,” Robards replied. ”And we’ve had those exact points raised in every training group for as
long as I’ve been with the Office.” He surveyed the class. Harry had moved across the room next to Ron, both of
them leaning against the wall with their arms crossed over their chests with identical facial expressions—like
brothers. Those two are natural partners.

”We learned the hard way that, in some cases, we had to fight fire with fire. I can’t tell you how many good
people we lost to the Unforgivables—some killed, some driven mad...some driven to commit suicide or murder
under the Imperius curse. You must understand that there are situations where the lack of time and the
ultimate protection of the innocent collide and require desperate measures, and sometimes, although rarely, it
involves the use of these curses. As Aurors, our main objective is to provide and maintain the safety of our
community from the dark arts. That might involve setting personal feelings aside and doing what must be
done."
To protect and to serve. Harry thought of Frank and Alice Longbottom, his parents, Remus and Tonks, Ginny’s
and Ron’s uncles, and all the people he knew who had been lost to those horrible curses. It just strengthened his
resolve to never use them—at least if he could help it. Ron noticed Harry’s reflective mood. ”You all right, mate,”
he whispered as they signed the permit.

”Yeah, I was just thinking, that’s all—about Neville’s parents.”

Robards collected the signed parchments and piled them on the desk. He tapped them with his wand and
muttered, ”Geminio.” Another pile of identical parchments appeared next to them, copies of the parchments
they’d all just signed. ”I'll be back tomorrow with another Auror. There will always be two of us for this class,
just as it’s stated in the regs,” he said as he distributed the copies. ”Keep these copies with you at all times.
Now, Potter, if you have nothing to add...”

”No, nothing, sir,” Harry said unfolding his arms.

”Well then,” Robards announced. ”Class dismissed.”

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione met together at lunch. Harry and Ron told the girls about Robards’ speech
designed to convince the DA that use of the Unforgivables in some situations and under certain guidelines was
acceptable.

”It's horrible that you have to cast them at each other,” Hermione said angrily as tears began to glisten in her
cinnamon eyes. ”There has to be another way!”

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Ron drew her close to his side. She had kept quiet the night before when Harry explained to the DA, but Ron
knew she was going to break at some point and that point was now. ”Love, I know this is bringing back some
ugly memories. I’ve thought of little else today,” Ron said ”But Gawain is right. I was dying inside knowing that
that evil bitch was torturing you like that. If just knowing how those curses work would help me—and Harry—
prevent another twisted bastard from ever doing that to you or Ginny or anyone else...”

”Look, Hermione. I know what this must be like for you. I’ve taken all three of those curses, but the regulations
limiting Auror usage of those curses are very strict, very explicit,” Harry explained. ”None of us relishes the idea,
I promise you, but we know it must be. Casting the Cruciatus against Ron or any of our friends is both horrible
and necessary. We must be able to cast those curses without hesitation, and if you can do that against a friend,
it's easier to do it against an enemy.”

Hermione sobbed softly into Ron’s chest. She understood but still didn't want to admit it. Bellatrix Lestrange had
tortured her mercilessly. That lunatic had an exceptional skill for inflicting pain. There was no one in the DA
class nearly capable of that kind of torture. She knew that, but the concept terrified her. ”Ron, Harry—promise
me you’ll be careful. Promise me!”

”Of course, Love. We’ll be under close supervision, so nothing horrible is going to happen. We’ll get through it,”
Ron assured her. Then he leaned over to whisper in her ear. ”We gods are quite resilient.” I hate to see her cry.

”Hermione, you know us,” Harry said. ”We’ll be safe, honest. We might be a bit sore when it’s all over, but we’ll
get over it. A hot shower and maybe a shot of Old Ogden’s and we’ll be right as rain.”

”I'm a bit worried about how we’ll deal with it—you and me, I mean,” Ginny interjected. ”We feel each other's
emotions, Harry. I don't really like the idea of feeling you taking the Cruciatus curse. I mean, I know what it
feels like...” Oops. Shut it, Ginevra.

Harry caught her slip, but he let it go because he got an idea at the same time. Ron’s so busy with Hermione, he
didn’t hear Ginny’s comment. Good. ”Gin, what if you send all your love through our bond when you feel it? You
should feel it a split second after I do. What if I might be able to withstand the curse that way?”

Both Ron and Hermione looked up at Harry as if they hadn’t heard him right. But almost immediately, Hermione
cottoned on. ”Yes, it might work. Professor Dumbledore was always on about how love is the greatest power in
the universe,” Hermione said.

”I don’t know, Harry. This all sounds rather dodgy to me. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt—especially you
and Ron,” Ginny said as she began to tremble.

”Gin, I’ll be fine—we’ll be fine,” Harry promised and then leaned down to kiss her cheek. ”It’s your love that
keeps me safe,” he whispered.

Ginny looked at him and smiled weakly. ”If you say so, Love. I’ll do what I can.”

”You know what? I haven’t seen the Munchkins since we’ve been back! Hermione, have you seen them,” Harry
asked.

”I saw them for a few minutes this morning as they were climbing out of the portrait hole on their way to class.
I don’t know where...”

”Ron! Ron,” a voice cried, cutting through the din in the Great Hall. ”What are you doing here,” Erica asked,
breathless. As soon as she had spied Ron’s red head above the crowd, she knew who it was. ”Emma, Patricia,
Joseph—Ron’s here!”

”Hello, Little Love,” Ron grinned, pulling her into a big-brother hug. ”How was your Christmas?”

”It was wonderful! Emmy and I told Mum and Dad all about you,” she said.

”Yeah, and they were really impressed that you signed our Chocolate Frog cards and that we’re friends with
Harry and Ginny,” Emma said, her fingers entwined with Joseph’s.

”Patricia, you’re awfully quiet,” Hermione said. ”Didn’t you have a nice Christmas?”

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”Oh Christmas was all right, but...” Patricia looked a little sad.

”But what, sweetie,” Hermione asked, trying to look into her face.

”I couldn’t tell anyone about you—about Hogwarts—except Mum and Dad, but they don’t really understand any
of this,” she replied.”

”Yeah, that’s pretty tough, isn’t it.” Hermione completely understood. Muggleborns almost never have anyone at
home to talk with about the magical world, since secrecy had to be maintained.

”You know what, though,” Ginny began. ”We’re all back together now, so we have plenty to talk about and loads
of people to talk about it with. Now tuck in before all the food disappears!”

The Munchkins dropped into seats at the table and began to eat. Harry noticed that Emma and Joseph ate
one-handed and he was able to guess why. It looked as though Joseph wouldn’t be carrying Ginny’s picture
around anymore...at least not exclusively.

”So...Joseph,” Harry called to his first-year friend. ”What’s the good word, mate?”

”Oh...well...we spent the ’olidays with my grandparents in Cambridge. Mum’s from there,” Joseph replied
between bites of sandwich. ”It was fun enough, but I missed...”

Harry gave him his signature Harry-grin. ”...Emma.” He began to chuckle. Soon all of them were laughing as
Joseph and Emma blushed and stole glances at each other.

”Well...I don’t know about you lot, but I’d say our good mate, Joseph, has fine taste in women,” Ron said, raising
his glass of pumpkin juice toward the Cockney first year. ”Good on ya, mate!”

The eight Gryffindors chatted and laughed and caught up on all the news they could until the bells sounded the
end of lunch. The food disappeared and the tables stood empty and shiny. ”Well, that’s our cue, mates,” Harry
called, rising from his seat. ”See you all at supper, yeah?”
Ginny and Hermione had Transfiguration right after lunch, so Ron and Harry walked them to class. Outside the
door, the respective couples kissed goodbye and Hermione and Ginny disappeared through the door. Since Harry
and Ron had the afternoon free, Harry decided to the opportunity to show Ron the ”gym” in the Room of
Requirement. ”So... Ron,” Harry said. ”Would you like to see the gym?”

”Oh yeah, great,” Ron replied, though obviously distracted.

”Can’t get enough, eh mate,” Harry asked with a sly grin.

”Is it that obvious,” Ron groaned. ”How do you do it, Harry?”

They stopped outside the place in the wall where the door to the Room of Requirement was hidden. Harry
concentrated while he paced in front of it three times until the door appeared. He opened the door and they
walked in. ”Bloody hell,” Ron exclaimed. ”What is this stuff?”

”Exercise equipment,” Harry replied. He took Ron around the ”gym” and explained each apparatus and what it
was for. ”This is the one that’s the most fun, though—if that’s what you’d call it. It’s a weight machine. It works
your upper body and your legs, but not at the same time. But you’ll want to change into something appropriate.
If you look over there, you’ll find something interesting.”

Ron strode over to the lockers and found one with his name on it. R.Weasley, AIT. Inside, he found a surprise.
At the bottom of the locker was a canvas bag. He took it out and looked at it. It was maroon with gold straps. On
either side, it read R. WEASLEY. He opened it and found tee-shirts, shorts, socks, sweat bands, a water
bottle—also with his name on it—and a pair of brand-new trainers.”Harry, is this...”

”Happy belated Christmas, Ron,” he grinned. ”As you can see, everyone has a locker and gear.” They moved
along the row, inspecting the lockers: S. Bones, T. Boot, L. Brown, C. Chang, S. Finnegan, A. Goldstein, H.
Granger, H. Potter, G. Weasley, R. Weasley. ”I owled Dudley from the Burrow. I sent him a thousand pounds and
told him what we needed and where I wanted him to get it. I picked it up at his place, like you suggested, and

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brought it here a couple of days before the beginning of term.”

They came out of the changing room in tee-shirts and shorts bearing their first initial and last name with Auror
in Training underneath. Harry and Ron spent the afternoon in the weight room working with the various
equipment before retiring to the dressing rooms to shower before they met their women at Harry’s and Ginny’s
room. They tossed their sweaty clothes and towels into the hamper on their way out. ”Who...” Ron began.

”Kreacher,” Harry replied. ”Kreacher cleans DA laundry and towels. I set that up the same day I owled Dudley.”

”Brilliant,” Ron exclaimed. ”Now let’s go see to those lovely women of ours, shall we?”

”You’re on, mate,” Harry agreed, and they made for the Defence Against the Dark Arts office. The corridors were
crowded as classes had just let out for the day. When Harry and Ron arrived, Ginny and Hermione were waiting
for them. ”So what were you two up to this afternoon,” Hermione asked Ron.

”Erm...Harry showed me the gym. We had a workout,” Ron replied. ”It was fun, really.”

Hermione felt his biceps. ”I’m impressed, Mr Hardbody,” she teased as she reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him.
He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the floor. ”My ginger god is pumping up,” she whispered into
his ear.
Desire, thy name is Hermione. ”Listen, Ginny,” Ron began as he set Hermione down. ”Since we’re on about
working out, would it be okay if...erm...I workedoutwithyouandtheteam?”

”You want to work out with the team? Is that what you said,” Ginny asked, eyeing her brother.

”Uh...yeah. That’s right,” Ron answered, reddening at the ears. ”I...er...I’m out of shape and...”

Ginny looked up at Harry and raised her eyebrows. ”Harry, was this your idea?”

”Well...yes, sort of. But I told him it was up to you,” he replied defensively.

”So...can I,” Ron asked hopefully. ”Please, Gin?”

Ginny sighed heavily. ”Oh all right, but don’t get in the...hang on! You’re a ruddy Keeper, right?”

”Uh...well...not anymore. Why,” Ron asked, as if he didn’t know what she was driving at.

”Harry’s the Seeker Coach and professional teams have Seeker coaches...but they also have Keeper coaches,”
Ginny muttered, thinking out loud. ”Tell you what, brother-of-mine. You can work out with the team on one
condition.”

”And that is...” Ron asked, knowing exactly what that condition was going to be.

”You can work out with the team if you agree to be my Keeper Coach. Deal,” she asked.

”Keeper Coach? Me,” Ron asked, pretending to be surprised. ”Uh...sure, Gin. If you really want me to.”

”Want you to? This is going to take a load off! I’ll be able to concentrate on my Chasers and teach them more of
the brilliant stuff I learned from the Harpies,” she exclaimed. ”We’ll be unstoppable! The House Quidditch Cup is
as good as ours! Oh thanks, Ron! You’re the best big brother in the world!”

Ginny hugged him tightly around the waist as if to squeeze the life out of him. Ron looked over her head at
Harry, blue eyes twinkling, and winked.

Next morning, Harry and Ginny met Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione was already in
a right state, with Ron trying to calm her down. ”I’ll be all right, ’Mione, I promise,” he said gently, stroking her
hair.

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”Don’t worry, Hermione,” Ginny said. ”They’ll be all right. I’m sure Madame Pomfrey is standing by just in case,
but really...”

”We’ll be fine, Hermione,” Harry promised. ”Besides, you need to buck up unless you want to explain to the
Munchkins.”

Harry pointed toward the great oak doors of the Great Hall. Emma, Joseph, Erica, and Patricia were bounding up
the aisle to join their housemates at the Gryffindor table. ” Miss ’Ermione! Woss all this abou’ then,” Joseph
asked in thick Cockney. ”Woss she cryin’ for, Ron?”

”Joseph, that’s none of our business,” Emma scolded him.

”Why ain’t it our business, Em? They’re our friends, ain’t they?”

Ron and Harry couldn’t very well be offended by Joseph’s straightforwardness because real concern was written
all over the boy’s face, and the other three girls appeared to agree with him. Ron cleared his throat as he ran a
large hand up and down Hermione’s back. ”You see, kids... Hermione’s worried about Harry and me. We have
some specialised training exercises this morning and they’re a bit...well...tough. She’s afraid we’re going to get
hurt.”

Hermione began to sob again.

”Oh now thass not goin’ to ’appen, Miss ’Ermione! Not to ’Arry an’ Ron! They’re ’eroes, ain’t they? I’ll wager
there ain’t nuffin’ too ’ard for the likes o’ them,” Joseph declared. ”They ain’t come up wif nuffin’ yet tha’ll put
’Arry Potter an’ Ron Weasley down. Make no mistake!”

Hermione couldn’t help but snicker into Ron’s shoulder. Joseph’s Cockney seemed to become thicker when he
got on about something, and he was definitely on about something. ”Don’t you worry none, Miss ’Ermione.
They’ll come out of it wif ’ardly a scratch!”

”Th-thank you, Joseph,” Hermione stammered, wiping her eyes. Whether they were tears of worry or
amusement was anyone’s guess. ”That’s very k-kind of you.”

When the bell rang, Harry and Ron walked Ginny and Hermione to the dungeons for their Potions lesson with
Professor Slughorn. They kissed them goodbye, promising a full report at the end of the day.

Harry and Ron arrived at their classroom to find the other six members of the DA already there with looks of
trepidation on their faces. They got about as much sleep as Harry and Ron and that wasn’t much. There weren’t
many words exchanged between them beyond one- or two-word acknowledgements.

”You know why we’re here today,” Robards called. They all jumped, including Harry and Ron. ”We’ll will start
with the Cruciatus curse and get it over with. After a short break, we’ll work with the Imperius curse. After
lunch, you’ll practice the killing curse on our special targets,” Gawain told them. ”Now, what can you tell me
about the Cruciatus curse?”

”It leaves no physical marks, but causes an unendurable pain,” Cho answered. The others winced and stole
dubious looks at one another.
Harry raised his hand and Gawain nodded towards him. ”You have to mean it to cause pain. I guess that’s the
real trick today, as none of us here has any desire whatsoever to inflict pain on any of the others.” Even though
Harry had made peace with the necessity to learn and understand these necessary evils, he just couldn’t help
resenting it. The other seven members of this class were his friends. His noble heart couldn’t accept abusing
them for any reason, especially his best friend and surrogate brother, Ron Weasley.

”Correct,” Gawain said. ”You will try casting it at each other, but stop after a few seconds. That’ll be enough.
Now, Mr Dawlish, here, has been kind enough to let me show you what I want you to achieve.” Gawain raised
his wand and pointed it to Dawlish. ”Crucio” Gawain said and Dawlish yelled out in agonizing pain, falling to the
floor.

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After only a few seconds, Gawain stopped and a sweating Dawlish took a few deep breaths before getting up
again. ”If you can hold it for a few seconds, you can hold it longer. Remember, it's used only in extreme
situations when lives depend on retrieving information. The pain must be so severe that you will extract
whatever information you need quickly. We can never use the Cruciatus curse for extensive interrogations. The
risk of causing mental illness is too great.”

Everyone was well aware of the seriousness of this particular situation as they all paired up. Harry and Ron
started. They cast the curse on each other in turn, but all they felt was a weak tingling sensation. There was no
pain. It seemed it was like that for all of them.

”You must forget who you're casting it at,” Dawlish told them. ”But don't worry. It's always like this in the
beginning. I'd have been quite worried if any of you actually cast it successfully on your first attempt.”

Harry focused again and tried to forget it was Ron he was about to torture, and thought about Tom Riddle, the
murders of his parents, Sirius, and Lupin instead. He tried to channel that anger into his spell.

”Ow,” Ron cried. ”That actually hurt a bit!” I’m glad Hermione can’t feel this like Ginny can with Harry. She’d be
catatonic...or hysterical.

Ron tried imagine Harry was Bellatrix Lestrange and managed to give Harry a little twinge. The drill continued
and, as time passed, they did manage to inflict real discomfort to one another, but they still had a long way to
go.

After an hour, Gawain stopped them. ”You’ve done well. We’ll leave it here for your first lesson.”
First lesson! We have to do this again? Ron shuddered and looked over at an equally-horrified Harry, who
shrugged in resigned defeat. His best friend’s eyes told Ron that, like it or not, they would have to tell the girls
that this was not the only lesson for this part of the course.

After a short break, they continued with the Imperius curse. Harry threw it off every time, and after about half a
dozen tries, both Susan and Cho were able to as well. The others made good progress, but needed more
practice. After lunch, they returned to their classroom, where Gawain and Dawlish had prepared person-size
white blocks.

”These blocks are magically-charged. If struck by the killing curse, they will darken. If you cast a proper killing
curse, the block will go black,” Gawain explained. ”The trick is summoning the willpower to kill the block.”

Jets of green light shot across the room into the blocks with shouts of ”Avada Kedavra!” Gradually, the blocks
grew a little darker as the horrible spell struck them. Harry tried to recapture the anger and horror he felt when
Bellatrix almost hit Ginny with it. He channeled those emotions full into his spell. The block turned pitch black
and heaved as if it might blow apart.

”How did you do that,” Ron asked.

”I thought of how I felt when Bellatrix almost killed Ginny,” Harry replied, breathing heavily.

Ron took Harry’s advice and thought of how angry he was as he had to listen helplessly to Hermione's screams
as Bellatrix tortured her. Summoning the memory of Hermione's agony and painful screams, Ron cast the curse.
His block turned jet black and smoked a little in the bargain. The other DA members took a leaf out of Harry’s
and Ron’s book and summoned their most horrid memories of the war to strengthen their killing curse.

”It's scary that it's so much easier to cast than the Cruciatus curse,” Susan said. ”I mean, both are terrible
curses, but this one kills people.”

”Miss Bones is right,” Dawlish said. ”The killing curse is easier to cast than the Cruciatus. You’d better remember
that, because that alone makes it a great temptation.”

After class, Ron and Harry headed for their dorms. They were both exhausted and wanted to rest for a while
before dinner. Hermione was waiting for Ron in the common room when he stepped through the portrait hole.
”Ron! Oh gods, Ron, are you all right?” She ran at him and threw herself into his open arms.

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”Yes, Love. I’m fine. We barely got a sting out of each other this time,” he assured her.

”This time? This time,” she demanded. ”You mean there’s going to be another time?”

”Probably a few other times. ’Mione, the Cruciatus curse is not something you master overnight,” he explained.
”I mean, the Imperius curse is pretty easy, since you can use it without actually hurting someone. The killing
curse, though. That one is so easy to do if you can summon the right memories...’Mione, it’s too easy. It’s
scary.”

”How did you practice the killing curse, Ron,” she asked as tears spilled down her face. ”How? Did you kill
spiders like Mood—er—Crouch?”

”No Love, nothing like that. Robards and Dawlish brought in tall white blocks that were charmed to turn black
when a successful killing curse struck them.”

”So how did you do it,” she asked a bit calmer. ”How did you summon hatred?”

” I thought of that night at Malfoy Manor when that evil bitch was torturing you,” he said. ”I summoned all the
anger and frustration I felt as you suffered and I couldn’t stop it. I aimed my wand at my block and shouted the
curse at it. ’Mione, the damned thing not only turned black, it smoked!”

Hermione was flush with admiration and a little lust at the thought of her man coming to her defence in so
powerful a fashion. ”That silly block should never have incurred the wrath of a god,” she purred.

”Speak not too soon, my goddess, because you should have seen what Harry did to his block,” Ron said with a
shudder.

”Really? What happened,” she asked, planting little kisses across his chest.

”He said he summoned the memory of Bellatrix almost having killed Ginny at the final battle,” Ron said, as his
heart began to race. ”’Mione, that’s nice, but if you don’t slow down...’Mione, please, Love.”

”All right, you have one minute,” she purred again. ”Then you’re mine.”

”He...he glared daggers at the thing. It scared the hell out of me. I’d never seen Harry become that...intensely
angry, not even at Malfoy. His eyes went all dark, then he literally threw the curse at it. It turned black as pitch
and sort of expanded—like it was going to blow up! It was...” Ron never got to finish because his minute had
expired and his girlfriend’s tongue was snaking its way down his throat.

By the second week, the Cruciatus curse was becoming painful when the DA cast it at one another. Ginny did
feel when Harry was in pain and, as agreed, she immediately tried to send him all her love to protect him. When
Harry received her love through their bond, the pain did, in fact, diminish to a point that it didn't bother him.

Gawain noticed that each trainee’s Cruciatus curse produced the desired results, except when Harry was their
victim. ”Why doesn't the Cruciatus curse work as well on you as it does on the others,” he asked Harry after
class one day.

”Ginny is helping me to block it. We're trying to counter it,” Harry said. ”I didn't want to tell you until I was
certain it would work.”

Gawain was intrigued. A way to block the Cruciatus curse? Extraordinary! If that was indeed what was
happening, Harry was the only wizard ever to have countered all three Unforgivables. ”If you like, I can cast a
powerful Cruciatus on you to see if you're able to block it.”

”Let's try it,” Harry said.

”I'll stop after a few seconds if it doesn't work.” Gawain promised.

Harry nodded. He did feel a bit nervous taking a full blow of the Cruciatus, since he knew Ginny would feel it
too. As soon as the Head Auror cast it at him, he felt the unbearable pain at first, but apparently Ginny
responded immediately. He felt her love surrounding him and he imagined it as a shield, protecting him from the

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pain. The pain disappeared and Harry turned to Gawain. ”Expelliarmus,” Harry said, and disarmed his boss.

Both Gawain and Harry looked at each other in surprise. Gawain was outright gob smacked. ”You countered it!”

”Yes, Ginny's love shielded me. The curse became thoroughly ineffective,” Harry replied.

”Harry, this must remain a secret at all costs. You may be able to save lives with this skill. No Death Eater would
even consider that the Cruciatus curse could be ineffective. Should any one of those mad bastards attack you,
they’ll be in for a big surprise,” Gawain laughed.

The first week of February, Harry received an owl from Draco. He let Ginny read it:
Potter,
I dug through the archive and gathered all the files I could find about Muggleworthy Excuse Office co-operation
with the Auror Office. I know Valentine’s Day falls over a Hogsmeade weekend, so could we meet at the Three
Broomsticks in the morning? I’ll have more for you then.
DM

”All right. Let's make your meeting with him the first thing we do. Then we can spend the rest of the day
together,” she said, knowing the importance of that meeting.

”Good idea,” Harry said and sent an affirmative reply with a specific time.

”What are your plans for Valentine’s Day,” Ginny asked Ron and Hermione.

”I have something planned,” Ron said mysteriously.

Hermione gazed romantically at her boyfriend with a very un-Hermione-ish look. She was a lot happier now that
Ron was back at school. Of course, she still studied like a madwoman and as usual, carried a book around with
her, but she didn’t bury herself in her studies as she'd done last term.

Harry woke up next to Ginny on Valentine's day with a special kiss on his lips he’d saved up just for her—one of
her favorite mind-blowers. After breakfast, they headed to Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks to meet with
Draco. There were loads of people in the tavern. That was good. Harry hoped they would be spotted and with
Kingsley's influence, have a blurb in the Daily Prophet again.

Draco had already arrived and was waiting for them at a table. They nodded warily to each other and sat down.
Draco looked at Harry and then at Ginny.

”I have no secrets from Ginny,” Harry told him. ”She can be trusted.”

Draco shrugged and placed a pile of files on the table. ”Here are the files you requested, Potter. I think you’ll
find that they’re well worth the effort it took to dig them out of the archive,” Draco said.

”Something interesting come to light,” Harry asked.

Draco slipped Harry a phial containing one of his own memories under the table as he nodded to the files. ”Yes, I
think you'll find the Muggleworthy Excuse Office’s co-operation with the Auror Office more interesting than you
might hope for.”

Harry received the vial and hid it in his robes. He pulled his wand and shrunk the files, putting them away too.
”So, is our business for today concluded,” Harry asked.

”Yes” Draco said and nodded to Ginny ”I’m sure there are loads of things you’d much rather be doing. And as a
matter of fact, I have something planned today too.”

Harry was stunned for a moment. Was Draco sharing something other than strict business? ”You have a date,”
Harry asked.

”Believe it or not Potter, but yes, I do.” Draco shook both their hands and made ready to leave. ”Have a Happy
Valentine’s Day, you two.”

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Harry looked at Ginny in disbelief. ”What was that all about? Why would he tell us he's going on a date?”

”Maybe he's in love,” Ginny said, ”And just wanted to tell someone about it.”

”Well, I know I’m in love and right now, I want to spend this day with you,” Harry said kissing his beautiful
fiancée tenderly.

Ron left the dorm with a stomach full of butterflies. This was his first Valentine's Day as Hermione's boyfriend.
He had planned the day carefully and wanted everything to be perfect. Still, he knew he had a knack for
messing things up, especially when he was nervous.

He headed downstairs to the Great Hall to have breakfast with Hermione. Harry and Ginny wouldn't be there,
because they would have eaten in their room before heading off to meet Draco. Hermione stood waiting for him
outside the Great Hall, dressed for Valentine's Day. Ron was perfectly enchanted. How could he have needed all
those years to understand what he felt for her? ”Good morning, Beautiful,” Ron said softly and kissed her.

”I'm so happy you’re back at Hogwarts, did I tell you that,” Hermione asked silkily.

”Almost every day, but I don't mind,” Ron replied with his heart-melting lopsided grin. ”Come on, let’s get some
breakfast, yeah?”

After breakfast, Ron and Hermione left for Hogsmeade. It was still early and the sun had just barely peeked over
the mountains. It was rather cold, but it was an otherwise perfect winter day. Outside the gates, Ron took
Hermione's hand and spun. They Apparated to a hill outside Hogsmeade with a breathtaking view of both
Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.

Hermione gazed curiously at Ron. She was about to say something, but Ron put a gentle finger to her lips to
silence her. Hermione understood Ron had something planned and she could see he was nervous. It was so
romantic. This vulnerable insecurity of Ron’s was a wonderful part of him, so long as it didn't turn him into the
greatest prat on earth. She gasped a little when he gave her a red rose with a note attached.

”Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

Ron smiled lovingly at her and she felt a wave of affection and anticipation. What is he playing at? He flicked his
wand and conjured a second rose with another note.

”Hermione, my love, I have a way of messing up important things when I'm nervous, but I have something very
important to ask you.”

Hermione was intrigued by Ron’s air of mystery. He still didn't say anything, but pointed behind her. She turned
around as he waved his wand. An ancient-looking quill and parchment appeared in mid-air before her eyes and
wrote a third note with gothic letters in red ink.

”Thou, fair Hermione, hast captured my heart with beauty and wit.
Now, please answer my question: Wilt thou marry this insufferable git?”

Hermione read the note as it wrote itself, and then once more to really be sure of what it said. Great Merlin, he’s
proposing! She had no idea Ron could be such an incredible romantic. The surroundings, the beautiful
Valentine's morning, the intellectual touch with the notes and the quill—Hermione’s heart began to flutter and
then skip a beat.

She slowly turned around to face Ron. He had dropped to one knee, holding a tiny box containing a ring in one
hand and a third rose in the other. She melted. He looked so hopeful, his blue eyes shining with love and
devotion. A tear stole down her cheek as she took up the quill and the parchment still floating in mid-air, and
wrote her reply. She looked sweetly down at him and held it so he could read it.

”Thou brave Ronald, my love, I write thee my answer with this quill.

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This intolerable know-it-all loveth thee. Marry thee? Of course I will.”

Hermione rolled the parchment with the quill inside and hid it in her robes. She was going to keep that forever.
Then she accepted the third rose. Ron stood and slid the ring onto her finger, kissing her soft lips tenderly and
warmly. Tears streamed down both their faces and into their kiss. When they finally had to break the kiss to
breathe, Hermione took a closer look at her engagement ring. It was a beautiful gold band set with a single
diamond. It felt like it belonged on her finger from the moment Ron had placed it there.

Neither of them had yet spoken a single word, for there were simply no words for this moment. Of all the ways
she’d ever imagined a man might propose to her, nothing like this had ever crossed her mind. She took Ron's
hand and gazed into those hypnotising blue eyes. ”Ron,” she whispered ”I love you. This is perfect.”

Ron breathed his relief. He hadn't shared his plan with anyone, not even Harry. He knew he would be even
more nervous if he had. He wanted the proposal to be something romantic to remember for the rest of their
lives, rather than one of him making an arse of himself. He gazed at Hermione, first at her hand with the ring,
and then into her eyes. It was true, he and Hermione were actually engaged to be married. ”I will treasure this
moment every day of my life,” he told her softly, holding her in a firm embrace. ”Are you ready to walk down to
Hogsmeade now?”

Hermione nodded and they headed downhill towards the village. As they approached, they could see other
couples walking through the streets. ”This won't be a secret for long, will it,” Ron asked Hermione with a nod
toward the ring.

”It’ll be so well-kept that it’ll be all over Hogwarts by noon,” Hermione laughed.

”Maybe we should find Harry and Ginny. I'd like to tell them in person, rather than have them hear it as
gossip.”

Hermione nodded. They knew Harry and Ginny were meeting Draco Malfoy at the Three Broomsticks before
starting their Valentine’s Day date. As they approached the pub, they saw Draco leaving. ”I guess Harry and
Ginny might still be there. Come,” Hermione said, dragging Ron along by the hand.

They entered and immediately found Harry and Ginny sitting at a table, making eyes at one another. Ron and
Hermione approached them hand in hand. ”You look happy today,” Ginny said. ”Please, join us.”

Hermione smiled and looked at her two best friends. ”We are happy. Very happy, in fact I've never been
happier.”

Harry looked at her and then at Ron. Ginny suspected what had happened but was still surprised when
Hermione showed them her hand with the ring. ”Did you pull yourself together and propose,” Harry asked Ron.

”That I did,” Ron replied, beaming and blushing.

Hermione told them how he had planned it all.

”Ron, since when were you such a romantic,” Ginny asked with a sly smirk.

”Ron has a lot of qualities his sister wouldn't notice,” Hermione told her. Like he’s incredibly hot.

”Congratulations to both of you,” Harry said. ”This calls for celebration. Rosmerta!”

Madame Rosmerta brought them Butterbeers, since they couldn't have a Firewhiskey because Mr Filch would go
mental if he caught them smelling of Old Ogden's. The four of them toasted and enjoyed their Butterbeers.
Rather than having separate dates, they decided to spend this day together without thinking about school,
NEWTs, Unforgivable curses, or unnamed Death Eaters.

They felt like everyday people for once. They had spent enough time in Hogsmeade recently, that people didn't
feel the need to mob them anymore. On their way back to Hogwarts, they stopped by Hagrid’s hut. They visited
him as often as they could, but on this day they really wanted to tell them Ron’s and Hermione’s happy news.

It was already dark as they approached Hagrid's hut. Light shone warmly through the windows and smoke puffed

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from the chimney. They knocked on the door and Hagrid opened it. ”Can we come in Hagrid,” Harry asked.

”O' course, yer always welcome,” the big man replied as he ushered them in. ”Let me get yer all a cuppa. Had a
good Valentine's Day, did yer?”

Hagrid put a kettle on the fire and set the table with cups. Unfortunately, he seemed to be out of the homemade
biscuits Madame Maxime had taught him to bake. ” I've never had a better Valentine's Day,” Hermione said with
a tone that even Hagrid understood meant something special.

”Oh,” he asked. ”Why’s ’at?”

”Ron proposed today,” she said, showing him her ring.

”We wanted you to hear it from us, because at dinner, I think everyone else’ll know already,” Ron added.

Hagrid was an emotional man, even though he was half-giant. He’d never doubted their friendship, he was still
amazed sometimes that they wanted to be friends with him. They reminded him a lot of Professor Dumbledore,
who’d befriended and trusted people and creatures the rest of the Wizarding world would not.

”Tha's wonderful! Congratulations ter yer both,” Hagrid said, wiping a huge tear from his beetle eyes. He served
them tea as Hermione told him how Ron proposed.

”What have you been doing today, Hagrid? Have you seen Madame Maxime,” Ginny asked.

Hagrid shook his head. ”Nah, Olympe’s in France. A ruddy meeting or summat. It’s been me an' Fang today,”
Hagrid said and patted his dog. They chatted together about the old days over their tea, but soon it was time for
supper at the school and they needed to get back. Hagrid decided to trudge on up with them, since he was now
Head of Gryffindor House. He liked being about the castle because it enabled his students to contact him
regularly without having to troop down to his hut.

When Hagrid, Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall, it became quite evident that news of the
engagement had made the rounds of the student body. The hall went silent as the five of them headed for their
seats.

When Hagrid was seated at the head table, Professor McGonagall rose and tapped her goblet. ”I heard a rumour
today, a very happy piece of news. Seeing Miss Granger entering the Great Hall I noticed the rumour was true,”
She said pausing. Nothing escaped professor McGonagall's sharp eyes. Hermione had been walking as casually
as possible, but still the professor noticed the ring on her finger. ”Let me propose a toast to Mr Weasley and Miss
Granger,” Professor McGonagall said raising her cup.

Everyone rose from their seats, including many of the Slytherins, and raised their cups too. Ron blushed
crimson. He just wasn’t used to so much positive attention. ”To the newly-engaged couple and their happiness,”
she called. Once the hall was seated, Professor McGonagall clapped her hands and the food appeared. This
turned the attention from Ron and Hermione, and Ron's face returned to its normal colour at the sight of all the
food.

After supper, a crowd of girls gathered around Hermione, who showed them her ring and told the story
numerous times. They all sighed and gasped in all the right places as friends congratulated Ron with handshakes
and backslaps. The Munchkin girls hugged him tightly around his waist and neck, while Joseph pumped his hand
furiously. ”Good on ya, mate,” he said, smiling up into the tall man’s face.

”Merlin,” Ron gasped.”I’d better send an owl to Mum! She'll never forgive me if I don't tell her today.” Everyone
within earshot laughed at his respect for his mother, but if they had known Molly Weasley, they’d understand
the urgency. Ron sat down and wrote a quick letter to his parents. At the same time, Hermione composed a
press release for Lee Jordan to feed the press. Hermione also wrote a letter to her parents, telling them her
happy news.

The next morning, Harry and Ginny found Ron busy with his breakfast in the Great Hall, but Hermione was
conspicuously absent. ”Hey there mate,” Harry called. ”Where's your fiancée?”

Ron looked up from his eggs and bacon. ”I don't know—probably in the library. She didn't get any studying done

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yesterday,” Ron replied. ”You know how she can be.” It was a guess as good as any other, but ten minutes
before the seventh-years’ first class Hermione still hadn't shown for breakfast. Ginny headed towards Gryffindor
tower to see if she might be in the dorm.

Ron leaned in toward Harry. ”Professor McGonagall told me that Hermione and I will have our own room, similar
to yours,” he said conspiratorially.

”That's great news Ron,” Harry agreed. ”But Seamus won’t be too thrilled.” Harry was so used to living with
Ginny that he couldn't imagine being without her. Cuddling up together every evening, waking up in her arms
every morning, gazing at her in the soft morning light, feeling her close to him, all those little things in
everyday life meant so much to him.

Ginny knocked on the door to their dorm and stepped in. She found Hermione crying on her bed. ”Hermione,
what’s wrong? Are you all right?”

Hermione didn't answer; she didn't even look at Ginny, but handed her a letter.

”Dearest Hermione,
It's wonderful that you and Ron are engaged. Your father and I are very happy for you. We know how deeply
you love each other. We can't wait to see you. There is one thing we must tell you. Since returning to England,
we have found work, but we haven't enough savings to give you and Ron the wedding we wish our only daughter
to have. However, your father and I will give you the wedding of your dreams somehow, even if it means taking
out a loan. Again, sorry for telling you this, and congratulations to both of you from the bottom of our
hearts.Mum and Dad”

”Oh dear,” Ginny said giving Hermione a hug. ”Hermione, I’m really sorry, but Ron’s worried about you.” Why
the bloody hell would they tell her something like this?

”Just give me a moment,” Hermione said. ”Tell him I’m all right and I’ll be along.”

Ginny nodded. As she returned to the Great Hall she got an idea. When she reached Harry, she whispered
something in his ear. He nodded in agreement. ”That's a great idea, Gin! Let's talk to her at lunch. Now you
better hurry to class, love,” Harry said kissing her.

Following morning classes Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny had lunch together. Harry winked at Ginny and
then looked at Hermione. ”Ginny and I are investing some money in a new business,” Harry said, catching Ron's
and Hermione's attention. ”We're opening a dental clinic.” Hermione looked at him as though he’d grown a
second head.

”There's only one problem. We need two dentists to run it for us,” Ginny added and turned to Hermione. ”Do you
know any who might be interested?”

Hermione stared at them in astonishment. ”You want my parents to run a dental clinic for you?”

”Yes, they can open it anywhere they like, and after expenses, they keep everything they make.” Harry said.

”You mean they could have a clinic in central London,” Hermione asked.

”Anywhere they like,” Harry repeated.

Hermione was suddenly speechless. She understood they did this to give her parents the means to make more
money to afford the wedding, and this way, it couldn’t be construed as charity. Her parents would still have to
work hard to build a patient base, but with Harry's and Ginny's resources, they’d have the best possible start.

She couldn't get a word across her lips, but hugged both Harry and Ginny for all she was worth. She kissed Ron
soundly and headed for Professor McGonagall’s office, returning about twenty minutes later. ”I'll be gone for a
few hours, but I’ll be back for afternoon classes,” she said. ”Ron, you don't have a class until later. Do you want
to come along? I need to see my parents.”

Harry headed back to their room after lunch. Ginny needed to go to the library to write a Potions essay. When
he walked through the door, he spied Draco’s phial on the table.

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Chapter 13: Preparations


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Chapter 13 - Preparations

”Arthur!” His wife shouted to him in a way that he, from experience, knew meant something drastic had
happened. Still, after all their years together, it was hard to determine whether she was happy or angry about
it. His guess—or hope—was that whatever it might be was good news. But there was some anger in her voice,
too, so all he could do was drop everything and go to her.

”Coming dear,” he answered and put away the spark plug he was studying. It served some kind of function in
the motorcycle on which he still had some repairs left to finish. He sighed resignedly and headed for the kitchen
where Molly stood waiting with a bit of parchment clutched in her hand.

”We must get a new owl! Clearly, Errol is getting senile. Ron sent this letter yesterday and he’s only just arrived
with it today,” she complained, looking disgustedly down at the pile of heaving feathers and bird feet lying on
the scrubbed oak table.

”I guess you're right, Molly dear. Errol’s been in our family as long as we’ve been married. He’s pretty worn out,
isn’t he,” Arthur answered as he gently gathered up the rugged old owl and stroked his ruffled feathers. The
poor bird looked more dead than alive.

”Well, what are you standing there for? Read the letter,” Molly demanded, shaking the letter at him.

Arthur took the letter and slid his reading glasses onto his face. He cleared his throat and began to read:

”Dear Mum and Dad,


I have some wonderful news. Yesterday, for Valentine's Day, I asked Hermione to marry me. She said yes and
we are now engaged. I'm still trying to understand that she, the most talented, wisest and wonderful witch of our
age will marry me. We haven't talked to Hermione's parents yet, but will do that as soon as possible. We got
permission from Professor McGonagall to leave the school next weekend to see both you and the Grangers.
Love from your son,

Ron”

”So he actually did it! Oh Arthur, this is wonderful,” she cried. ”Both of our babies are getting married! I can't
wait to hear all about it,” Molly said wiping proud tears from her eyes with her apron.

”This is great news! And Ron chose well when he chose Hermione,” Arthur said with pride in his voice. ”She’s a
fine young lady who can keep him in line!” He took his wife in his arms and rested his chin on her head. ”Now,
there-there, my lovely,” he said softly. ”We knew this was coming someday. Ron and Ginny’ll be very happy
with their chosen ones. We have nothing to worry about. Harry’ll take good care of Ginny and Hermione’ll take
good care of Ronnie.”
”Our children are all grown up,” Molly wept into her husband’s chest. ”Bill’s soon to be a father, Ginny’s
marrying Harry next summer, and Ron’s marrying Hermione. I don’t know anything about Charlie or Percy, but
George seems serious about Angelina...” Molly sniffed as Arthur handed her his handkerchief.

”Yes, it’s all rather a blur, isn’t it, Mollywobbles, but with the new grandchild, and Harry and Hermione officially
joining the family, the Weasleys may soon take over the world,” Arthur joked.

”Arthur, you have such an interesting view of the world,” Molly laughed. ”That’s what made me fall in love with
you!”

”Is that all,” he smirked, kissing her nose. ”Just my views? It wasn’t my dynamic personality or my stunning
good looks, or...”

”That will do, Mr Weasley,” she chided. ”You know all the reasons very well—especially that night in the
Astronomy tower when we...”

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”That will do, Mrs Weasley. I still have a trace of the scars on my wrists,” he chuckled, pulling up a sleeve. ”But
it was worth every minute and if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

”Oh Arty,” Molly sighed. She raised her face to her husband’s and pressed her lips to his in a kiss filled with love
and nostalgia for their younger days.

”Damn! I almost forgot about this,” Harry muttered to himself. I can nick up to Professor McGonagall’s while
Ginny’s in the library. He snatched the phial from the table and hurried off to the Headmistress’ Office. ”Tartan,”
he said to the gargoyle. It leapt aside and he ascended the stairs to her office and knocked.

”Come,” she answered. She brightened when she saw her visitor. ”Harry, it’s good to see you. How are the DA
coming along?”

”Very well, Professor,” he replied. ”It’s hard work, what with all the tough physical training and the—er
—advanced magic. But we’re learning a lot in quite a short time.”

”Very good, Harry. Very good,” she said nodding thoughtfully. ”So what brings you?”

”Well, Professor,” Harry began, ”I had a meeting with Draco Malfoy and...”

”Indeed,” she said, her eyebrows raised. ”You and Mr Malfoy aren’t exactly the best of friends...”

”No, we’re not, but the meeting had to do with an investigation. He gave me this memory,” he told her, holding
up the phial.

”So you would like to view it, is that right,” she asked.

”If you don’t mind, Professor,” Harry said respectfully.

”You may use the Pensieve. I trust you know where it is,” she said, gesturing toward the cabinet where he’d first
found it by accident in his fourth year.

”I do. Thank you,” he said as he strode over to the cabinet and carefully removed it to the desk. He poured the
memory into it and it shimmered and swirled in the stone vessel. ”I’ll be just a moment,” he assured the
headmistress. Harry leaned forward, touching his nose to the surface of the silvery substance lying in the
Pensieve, allowing himself to be drawn into Draco Malfoy’s memory.

The memory was not very long. Harry found himself at Malfoy manor in what appeared to be a formal dining
room because there was a highly-polished mahogany table twice the size of the Weasley’s scrubbed oak one.
Around the table sat a core group of Death Eaters, many of whom Harry recognised, including Lucius Malfoy, a
very nervous Narcissa, and a sullen Draco seated between his parents. With a jolt of anger, Harry also
recognised Bellatrix Lestrange, Yaxley, Mulciber, McNair, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott. Snape was absent from this
meeting. At the head of the table Voldemort presided over the dark assembly.

There was a knock on a door and Voldemort arose from the table and opened the door and exchanged silent
words with someone who appeared to be a woman. He had a feeling she wasn't elderly, but he wasn't sure.
Voldemort closed the door and after that Harry returned to the office.

Harry thought about what he had seen as he collected the memory and returned the Pensieve to its place in the
cabinet. ”Thanks again, Professor,” Harry said as he made to leave.

”You seem concerned, Harry,” Professor McGonagall said, stopping him mid-stride.

”Yes, Professor. I am,” Harry replied. ”The memory revealed a dangerous possibility. But I don't know if I can
trust Malfoy or not.” Harry turned to Snape's portrait.” Professor Snape, can you offer any advice as to Malfoy's
trustworthiness?”

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”Malfoy is a gifted Occlumens, Potter. I taught him myself. It's likely he might play a role similar to mine. As for
his trustworthiness, I don't doubt it, but I honestly don't know about his loyalties,” Snape sneered.

”Thank you, Professor.” Harry said respectfully, for he truly respected his former Potions Master even though he
hadn’t ever been on good terms with him over the years. He turned his attention to Dumbledore's portrait.
”Professor?”

”All I can say, Harry, is that he obviously wanted you to see this memory, but why? To give you a clue to defeat
the enemy or to set a trap? Or to confuse you and focus on non-essential matters?”

Harry carefully considered the two former headmasters' words. Their thoughts might be relevant, but provided
no answers; however, he was able to learn a most important fact—Malfoy was indeed a talented Occlumens.
That could be a very good thing or a very bad thing, depending on his loyalties. Had he been able to shut me
out? Bollocks! He turned to Professor McGonagall again. ”Thanks again, Professor, for allowing me to use the
Pensieve and talk with Professors Snape and Dumbledore.”

”You're more than welcome, Harry. And could you please ask Mr Weasley and Miss Granger to come to my office
when you see them?”

”Of course, Professor,” Harry replied and exited the office.

On the way back to the quarters he shared with Ginny, Harry continued to turn Draco’s evidence over in his
mind. Draco must think this might be the mysterious enemy. If he was right, it was a woman. Had Voldemort had
any other disciples besides Bellatrix? Was there a reason she was taught things none of the male Death Eaters
were? Harry turned all he knew of Voldemort's life over in his mind. He thought it might be possible that men
reminded Voldemort of his Muggle father, so he tended to be quicker to anger with them.

Voldemort also had the habit of treating even his most devoted Death Eaters like servants rather than equals,
and as far as Harry knew, Voldemort didn't consider Bellatrix an equal either. But perhaps women somehow
represented something uniquely special because his mother was a witch. However, Harry could never be certain
what Voldemort could be thinking about anything like that because he’d been an evil, self-centered nutter most
of his life.

Whatever the case, he knew he needed to talk with Ginny, Ron and Hermione about the little bit he’d found out
from Draco’s memory. If there could be another Bellatrix roaming about, they needed to know about it. Bellatrix
was a powerful and brilliant witch, but evil and completely insane. Another one like her would throw their world
into another nightmare and he intended to stop it one way or another. No one will ever threaten my family’s
safety again.

He continued to wonder who the mysterious woman might be and what she was up to, if anything at all. Harry
had a feeling that the rumours about some dark force seeking to take over the Ministry were false. After all, if
Voldemort, couldn't stay in power, Harry highly doubted anyone else could. But without proof, it would be
pointless to try and make a case out of it because he’d have to convince his superiors first. He would share these
concerns as well when he spoke with Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

Still, Harry realised he would need someone outside Hogwarts to keep his eyes and ears open. Could he trust
Malfoy? He was, after all, the only one in touch with the enemy and he was willing to talk. But before letting
Malfoy in on anything, he had to clear that with Robards. That was it. If his friends couldn’t come up with a
better idea, he would talk to Gawain about using Malfoy.

If the Death Eaters learned that the Aurors weren’t buying into the notion of an attack on the Ministry, they
might do something hasty and inadvertently reveal some pertinent information about their leader and her
intentions—if in fact their leader was the woman in Draco’s memory. On the other hand, if they did plan to
attack and were convinced that the Ministry considered it a false alarm, they might also do something hasty. No
matter Malfoy's loyalties, he might still serve their purposes. Bloody hell! This cloak and-wand-crap lies in Ron’s
area of expertise.

Gawain allowed Harry to continue working with Malfoy as he saw fit. Harry sent an owl to Malfoy requesting a
meeting with him at the Auror Office the following week. Harry planned to returned Draco’s memory to him and
discuss the mysterious woman while the Aurors read Malfoy's mind minimizing the risk for deceit. They also

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needed to decide what Malfoy's next step should be, so they might learn more without putting him in
unnecessary danger. Maybe he did know more, but wanted Harry to watch the memory first and talk about it in
a more appropriate place than the Three Broomsticks.

The week passed quickly with classes, homework, and for Ginny, Quidditch. Harry and Ron worked with Dennis
Creevey and Jessica Spinnet respectively and worked out with the weights when they had the opportunity. Much
of the working out was designed not only to get into and stay in shape, but to take Ron’s mind off meeting with
his parents and future in-laws about his engagement to Hermione. There wasn’t any doubt that both sets of
parents would be happy for the couple, it was just the enormity of it all that made Ron more and more nervous
with each passing day.

”But you know Hermione's parents,” Harry encouraged him.

”Yes, but then I was just the boyfriend. Now I'm the future son-in-law. They're going to be stuck with me.”

”But I thought they liked you,” Ginny asked. Like you should care.

”They liked the boyfriend, but will they accept me as Hermione's husband, the father of their grandchildren... as
a part of their family,” Ron speculated.

”They know Hermione is happy, that should be enough.” Harry calmed him.

”I suppose,” Ron said slowly shaking his ginger head and wishing he could believe that. He had to admit, though,
that he had calmed down considerably since his and Hermione’s meeting with Professor McGonagall. The
headmistress informed them that, as an engaged couple, and with Ron’s status with the DA as a sort-of Defence
Against the Dark Arts instructor, they would have their own private quarters together. Not even Seamus'
remarks about being alone again would detract from that happy development. Friday morning, an owl arrived
with a letter for Harry from Percy. Somewhat surprised, Harry opened it.
Harry,
You asked me during the holidays about a discreet way to test for your Apparition license. I assume you have
been Apparating without it, and although I don't approve of that I realise it wouldn't look good if it reached the
press even if I did. I have procured an appointment with Wilie Twycross for your for tomorrow morning
(Saturday) at 9.00 AM.
Sincerely,
Percy Weasley

Harry passed it around to Ginny, Ron and Hermione to read as well. ”Well, I guess I’d better get it over with and
face Percy’s pompous diatribe about illegal Apparition,” Harry sighed.

”Oh yeah,” Ron snickered and drew himself up to impersonate his stuffy older brother’s snooty demeanor,
pursed lips and all. ”I can see it all now: Harry, the Ministry has very strict regulations concerning Apparition.
You really shouldn’t be doing that because you could splinch yourself. Accidental Magical Reversal Squads are
stretched to their limits every day, blah, blah, blah...”

Even Hermione had to laugh. ”That was really good, Ron. I didn’t know you were a mimic!”

”I can only do Percy well, Love. And Dad a bit, but Fred and George are...were better at it,” Ron said. ”You
should ask George to put them on sometime. It’s hysterical.”

The four of them had a good laugh at Percy’s and Arthur’s unwitting expense. ”Well, good luck,” Ginny offered,
kissing his cheek. ”But you’ll pass. You’ve been doing it almost daily for over a year. You’ll have no trouble
earning your licence.”

After classes that Friday, Ron and Hermione headed into Hogsmeade to Apparate to the Burrow. Harry and
Ginny watched their friends walk hand in hand towards the gates. ”They are so perfect for each other,” Ginny
said wistfully.

”Who would have known that when she asked us if we had seen Neville's toad on the Hogwarts Express, they’d
end up this way,” Harry asked rhetorically.

”Or argued about everything,” Ginny grinned.

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Harry looked lovingly at Ginny. ”And who would have thought you and I would ever be where we are now when
I first saw you on King's Cross that day?”

Ginny remembered Harry having been lost at the station without knowing how to get to Platform 9¾ on that
September morning seven-plus years ago. Of course Ginny had been telling her family she would marry Harry
Potter since she was four years old. ”Or me messing up everything and losing the ability to speak whenever you
were close?”

”It seems like a million years ago and only yesterday at the same time. As I remember, you were a cute little
girl. I thought so even then. I just didn’t know what to do about it or if I should have back then,” Harry said,
kissing her hand as they walked. ”I remember that morning at the Burrow after Ron and the twins rescued me
from the Dursleys. You came down the stairs looking for your jumper...”

”Yes, and the moment I saw you sitting there eating breakfast with my brothers, I froze. I was glad to see you
there, but horrified at the same time. I felt so embarrassed. I was still in my pajamas—I was a mess,” Ginny
laughed. ”But there you were—good-looking even at twelve—and you spoke to me as kindly as...” She broke off
because she began to choke up at the fond memory.

”But you’ve grown into an extraordinarily beautiful young woman and I can’t keep my eyes off you. I love you so
much, Ginny.” Since there were no words to describe his love for her, he sent her a wave of the unspoken thing
through their bond to convey it. ”And you were not a mess.”

Ginny sucked in a deep breath at the magnitude of Harry’s emotion, stopped, and stepped into his arms. ”Yes, I
was. When I first saw you with your wide eyes, baggy clothes and all-around polite nervousness at King’s Cross
the year before, I fell in love with you,” she said, brushing his unruly hair away from his eyes. ”I had been
enthralled by all the stories about you when I was little, but when I saw you there that day, I truly fell in love
with you—with Harry Potter, not the mythical Boy-Who-Lived I’d dreamed about since I was four years old. You
were just a skinny kid with the most alluring green eyes and hauntingly tragic smile I had ever seen.” She
reached up and pulled his head down for a kiss. ”But you’ve grown into my devilishly handsome green-eyed god
who earned legendary status for your intense ability to love and be loved.”

”You know when I fell in love with you,” Harry asked her, tightening his embrace.

”When? In the common room after the game,” she asked. ”Or when I sent you that god-awful Valentine?”

Harry began to chuckle. ”Actually, the Valentine was kind of nice even though I wasn’t smart enough to say so.
It was the winged dwarf sitting on my chest singing it for all the world to hear that I wanted to kill Lockhart for,”
he snarled in mock indignation.

”I fell in love with you when I saw you lying on that cold stone floor in the Chamber of Secrets. Your hands were
so cold and your sweet face was deathly pale, but you were still the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. I was just too
much of a prat to recognise it as the need to rescue the girl I loved rather than Ron’s little sister.” Harry’s eyes,
even now, held a look of desperation and fear for her life as he relived those horrible moments.

”Harry, love,” Ginny cooed. ” All that stuff, horrible as it was, has made us the people we are today. We have
each other and our love and our precious bond forged in that love. No one can ever hurt us or drive us apart
again. It’s all in the past.”

”I know, love,” Harry agreed, resting his chin on her head, breathing in her intoxicating wildflowers and
strawberries scent. ”Um...since we’re on the subject of the past, how about reading from Mum's diary in front of
the fire again tonight? It's been a while and I'm curious to find out what happened after the engagement part.”

Ginny gave Harry another kiss and laid her head on his chest. ”Mmm...I'd love to.” His spicy woodsy scent filled
her head as she listened to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. Reluctantly, she broke from his embrace and
took his hand. ”Come on. Ron and Hermione are probably already in London by now.”

Hermione and Ron enjoyed walking together and didn't Apparate to the Burrow until they reached Hogsmeade.
”How are you feeling,” Hermione asked, before entering the Burrow.

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”Well, this is my home and my parents, your future in-laws. It's meeting Mr and Mrs Granger I'm nervous about.
Aren't you nervous?”

”Ron, sweetheart, your parents have always been so wonderful to me. I couldn't wish for better in-laws,”
Hermione said matter-of-factly.

”And I hardly know your parents. No wonder I'm nervous.”

”But I know them. And trust me, they like you, Ron,” she assured him, touching his face. Hermione hugged him
tightly around his waist. She wasn’t tiny like Ginny, but Ron stood 6-feet 5-inches tall, so it was a stretch,
literally, for Hermione to get her arms around his neck.

Ron wrapped his strong arms around her and kissed the top of her head. In addition, the smell of his mother's
cooking wafting through the door certainly improved his mood. ”Come on, let's not be late for dinner,” he said. I
hope you’re right, ’Mione.

Hermione couldn't help smiling as they headed for the kitchen. ”Ron! Hermione!” Molly greeted them with her
signature bone-crushing hugs. ”It's so wonderful! Hermione, let me see that ring first and then tell me all about
the proposal.”

Arthur joined them and hugged his son and surrogate daughter. Hermione told them how Ron proposed to her.
Molly beamed at her son’s creativity, but still blubbered into her apron.

”Ron, when did you become such a romantic,” Molly asked.

”Romantic? Is that what that was? I just didn't want to make an arse of myself with nerves,” Ron grinned.

”It was very romantic, love,” Hermione said thinking back at the proposal. Merlin, but I love this man.

They had, as usual, stuffed themselves with Molly’s excellent cooking, and a little later that evening, George and
Angelina dropped by. ”I heard you'd be here. Congratulations, my not-so-little brother. Welcome to the family,
Hermione,” George said, giving her a firm hug.

While their parents chatted with Hermione and Angelina, Ron took George aside. ”So, you and Angelina are
serious?”

”Yes. She's been here and met Mum and Dad a couple of times. I've met her family, too,” George said. Ron was
glad to hear that George was truly moving on. Fred’s death had been hard on him, but Angelina appeared to be
filling the void.

George gave Ron a brotherly hug. ”Thanks. I'm glad we came here first. We're going to the Grangers’
tomorrow,” Ron said with a dubious tone.

”Nervous?”

”Yeah. I mean, I’ve met them several times, it’s just that this time they're stuck with me, I'm not just the
boyfriend anymore, but a part of the family, father to their grandchildren...”

”The one most certainly shagging their only baby girl,” George added bluntly with his familiar mischievous
smirk.

Ron blushed. ”That too... I know Mum and Dad were uncharacteristically calm about Harry and Ginny, but they
have that bond of theirs, making the idea of them shagging... less disturbing. Mum and Dad have considered him
family for years. To the Grangers, I was that bad influence Weasley boy, until I became the boyfriend.”

George laughed. ”I'm sorry, but this time you are quite the pathetic prat. After New Year, you saved me by
helping me write that uniquely crappy letter to Angelina. Let me save you this time.”

Ron looked at George with an element of surprise. More than once, George had taken Ron off-guard by offering

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an occasional pearl of wisdom one would never expect from him. ”Hermione chose you, but she didn’t choose her
parents.”

Ron seemed to relax a bit. ”I never thought of it like that,” Ron admitted.

”The idea was born out of pure survival instinct when Angelina introduced me to her father. The man stands
nearly seven feet tall and he’s very fit with a low voice—very scary at first. But really, he’s a very friendly sort
and easy to get on with once I got to know him.”

Ron went to bed that night feeling better about meeting with the Grangers the next day. He did like Hermione's
parents, he just couldn't help being nervous.

Harry and Ginny decided to forgo the fireplace, opting to cuddle up in their bed to read Lily's diary instead. The
last entry they read was about James' proposal and the day after when they told their parents. Because of the
intensity of their studies, they hadn't read any more since then, but now it felt right.

”28 July 1978


Today James and I met with Professor Dumbledore for the first time after our exams. We are now members of
the Order of the Phoenix. Sirius, Remus and Peter have joined too. I see no alternative but to fight. Evil must be
defeated. We learned that the situation is far worse than the reports in the Prophet. Professor Dumbledore told
us that You-Know-Who has Imperiused people in almost every Department and Office at the Ministry (lovely).
Over the last several years he has slowly and methodically strengthened his grip and more or less controls the
Ministry now. The Order has a few members we know and others we only heard of, but it's very encouraging to
know that not only is Professor Dumbledore in the fight, but also Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom. James and
Sirius wanted to attack You-Know-Who as soon as possible, but Professor Dumbledore stopped them.
My first mission for the Order is to brew loads of Polyjuice potion. Clearly, Professor Dumbledore is planning
something that calls for a complex potion like Polyjuice. James drew patrol duty because of his skill on a
broomstick. He is quite a good flyer. Whenever there is suspected Death Eater activity, a group of Order
members cover the area from above.
Despite the seriousness of the Order meeting, Professor Dumbledore was his usual self. He congratulated me and
James on our engagement. It felt good and right joining the Order. We’re at least trying to do something about
the Death Eaters. Personally, I'm more motivated than ever before as I’m learning about the power
You-Know-Who has been amassing. James and Sirius are quite keen to put him away immediately, which is giving
Professor Dumbledore fits. James is so impetuous and Sirius is just plain reckless sometimes (bless him), so
Dumbledore’s assigned Remus and Peter to keep them grounded. I wish them—Remus and Peter that is—all the
luck in the world.”

Harry thought seriously about this particular entry because in a way that day led to his parents’ deaths. On the
other hand they might have died anyway. But Harry could understand his mother's reasoning, feeling good
about at least doing something, rather than hiding her head in the sand. ”They knew what they were getting
themselves into, just like we did last year,” Harry said, thinking about both his and Ginny's last year during the
war.

”You did, and both Ron and Hermione knew too.”

Harry looked at her, into her eyes. ”I meant us, Gin—you and me. I knew I had to face the Horcruxes and finally
Tom himself. You knew that Hogwarts would be in the hands of Death Eaters.” Harry took Ginny's hand. ”You
knew it would be hell for you, because the Weasleys were blood traitors in the eyes of the Death Eaters.”

”Honestly, Harry, we didn’t know what to expect,” she said guardedly. ”I mean, we had all assumed that
Professor McGonagall would be Headmistress, not Snape. We didn’t know about Death Eaters having anything to
do with Hogwarts until we got here.”

Ginny's memories began to surface. Harry felt her emotional battle as her eyes filled with tears. He knew she’d
become uncomfortable, but Harry sent a wave of his love and strength and she felt it wash over her. She
relaxed a bit but still remained guarded. ”Let it out, Gin. You're not a leaky hosepipe. There are things and
situations worthy of a good cry.”

With that, Ginny’s emotional dam broke and she burst into pitiful tears, sobbing and wailing much like Harry had
done in her arms in the dorm after the battle. She hated crying, but she had to admit it felt good. ”You don't
have to tell me, love, if you're not ready, but I'm here for you. I know you went through hell. I can feel it

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through the bond.”

Ginny smiled a little through her tears. ”I know you are... I just...I just didn't want to burden you.”

”Ginny, you could never be a burden to me, ever,” Harry said emphasising his promise in every syllable.
”Besides, part of loving someone is sharing their pain as well as their joy.”

She began to tremble as she tried to snuggle even closer into the safety of her fiancé’s arms. ”I...I don't know
where to begin...” She just couldn’t get close enough to Harry. She lay her head on his muscular chest in order
to hear his heartbeat.

Harry rubbed her arm as he held her. ”I know it was horrific, Ginny. I know they used the Cruciatus on
students... and I suppose both you and Neville got your share of it,” Harry said to calm her down.

”How did you know,” Ginny asked him, jerking her head up to search his face.

”Neville told me a little bit at the party,” Harry admitted. ”I didn’t ask him or anything. It just came out while we
were talking about something else.”

Ginny nodded and lay her head back down on his chest. She knew Harry was well aware of how it felt to take
the force of a hate-induced Cruciatus. After all, Voldemort himself had thrown it at him.
”Yes, Alecto Carrow and her Slytherin goon squad cast it at me as punishment several times,” Ginny sighed.
Harry suppressed a surge of anger, instead focusing on sending Ginny all his love instead. Right now she needed
him, and his love, not his anger.

”You know, it happened immediately in September. On the train, Neville, Luna, and I could tell already that
something was up. The usual activity and chatter were non-existent, Harry. I was like riding in rolling morgue,”
Ginny recalled, eerily calm. ”In our compartment, we talked about resurrecting Dumbledore’s Army. When we
got here, there was no more need for talk. It had to be done, especially once we found out Snape would be
Headmaster with the likes of Amycus and Alecto Carrow teaching the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies.”

Ginny shuddered at that recollection while Harry stroked her hair and held her as tightly as he could without
crushing the wind out of her. He’d been sending a continuous wave of love and support through their bond as
she talked. He loved her so very much.

”We took it upon ourselves to look after the younger students—they were easy targets for the Carrows’ and
their henchmen,” she continued. ”We did all we could to keep them safe—to tell them how not to give the
Carrows any reason to harm them. I just couldn’t let those kids be hurt for even the slightest of infractions.”

”What do you mean, love,” Harry asked for clarification. ”What infractions?”

”You know how first-years are, Harry,” she began to explain. ”They almost always get lost on their way to class
during the first month or so, right?”

Harry remembered how he and Ron had arrived late to Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration class and her
threat to turn one of them into a pocket watch. ”Yeah, especially when those ruddy staircases take a notion to
change. Ron and I got lost loads of times.”

”Harry, they were punished for that,” she cried. ”There were horrible detentions...” Ginny began to cry again.
”Beaten up and locked in the dungeons without food...chains...”

Harry recalled his life with the Dursleys and how he was often locked in his cupboard and denied meals when he
performed uncontrolled magic he couldn’t explain or if he breathed too much. A disturbing mental picture of
their beloved Munchkins chained to the slimy wall of some filthy dungeon filled his mind and his heart broke. A
tear slid down his face as he pulled Ginny into his lap so he could hold her closer.

”Neville, Luna, and I had the first DA meeting amongst ourselves to decide how we were going to call everyone
together without alerting the Carrows or the good squad. Luna volunteered to make the rounds by talking to
people on the sly. At that point, she was less suspect because of her reputation as...well Loony Lovegood,” Ginny
said, trying to add levity to her gruesome tale. ”She started in her own house with Michael Corner and a few
others and then word just spread from there. Soon, Hufflepuff House had been contacted through Ernie

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MacMillan. I was surprised that so many still had their fake Galleons so we used them. We had our first meeting
in a week. Of course, neither of the Creeveys were there...”

”Why not, Gin,” Harry asked, confused. ”They were two of our most enthusiastic members!”

”Because they were never allowed on the Hogwarts Express, Harry. When we arrived at King’s Cross, there
were Ministry people checking the students’ names against a list. If a student’s name wasn’t on the list, namely
Muggleborns, they were taken away to...who-knows-where. Colin...well, you know Colin. He had an idea
something wasn’t right, so he and Dennis scarpered off. Neville saw them sneak back through the barrier,”
Ginny explained.

”Then how did he get to the battle,” Harry asked, still confused. ”How...”

”Through the Hog’s Head. Neville told him through the coin to get to Hogsmeade and come in that way,” Ginny
said. ”We hid him and Dennis the Room of Requirement. The Carrows didn’t notice them and Snape...well, you
know.”

Harry had begun to seethe again and had to fight it back. He hated injustice and intolerance. He recalled the day
that he, Ron, and Hermione had broken into the Ministry and watched Umbridge’s inquisitorial tactics against
Muggleborns, accusing them of ”stealing” magic and throwing them in Azkaban for it. He sent another wave of
love through their bond to help Ginny go on.

”At first, we did things to drive the Carrows—and Filch—crazy. Nothing of real note other than hiding students at
risk and leaving graffiti on the walls. But as time went on, we realised we were going to have to do more. In the
Dark Arts class, we were taught the Unforgivables and forced to cast the Cruciatus curse on one another for
practice. Some of us refused and paid for it,” Ginny began to shake again. ”The main targets for retribution were
the Gryffindors—namely, Neville and me.”

Ginny stole a look up at Harry’s face. It appeared to have turned to stone. ”Go on, Gin. I’m listening,” Harry told
her.

”Harry, I swear to you that Neville and I never cast that curse on anyone. We couldn’t do it. So one night while
we sat in the common room—just he and I—we plotted our next moves. At Luna’s suggestion and in your
absence, the DA decided that Neville and I should be the leaders...but Neville often acted as though I was in
charge since most of the plans for the raids were my idea,” she said. ”And because none of them bought the
story that you and I...”

At that, Harry began to sob. He couldn’t hold it anymore. ”Oh Gin, baby, I’m so sorry. I broke it off with you to
keep you safe, but a fat lot of good that did,” he cried ”I should have been there...”

”No, my love. You did what you thought was right. You had a job to do. You couldn’t have known this would
happen,” Ginny soothed, stroking his agonised face while they cried together. The just lay there and held one
another for a short while. ”You all right now, Harry?”

”Never mind me. Are you all right to go on,” he asked. ”I won’t interrupt anymore.”

”Yes. I can go on,” she took a couple of cleansing breaths and allowed a new wave of Harry’s love to wash over
her. ”It got worse and worse. By Christmas break, people were disappearing left, right, and center. I went home
with a couple of bruises, but nothing too severe. I’d managed to heal the worst of them thanks to Madame
Pomfrey’s help. I told Mum and Dad that I’d slipped on the stairs leading into the Entrance Hall on the way to
supper one night. I could’ve told them the truth, but I knew the DA needed me and I had to go back.

After Christmas break, the Carrows turned up the heat, so we did too. We found out from a couple of students
we had to hide that the ones who were disappearing had been taken to the dungeons and beaten severely.
That’s how we found out about the firsties,” Ginny began to sob. She had been thinking about the Munchkins
too. ”So that’s when we began the raids.

One Muggle Studies class—we all had to take it, you know—Ernie MacMillan and Hannah Abbott argued with
Amycus about something he’d said about Muggles being inferior and fit only to serve wizards, or something
ridiculous like that. He held them after class and called for his sister. They hit them over and over with the
Cruciatus curse until they could barely move. Then they called in Crabbe and Goyle to drag them to the

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dungeons. They were gone for several days and that’s when Neville and I formulated a plan. We had to get them
out of there.

We knew we were going to need a team of trustworthy people to pull this off. We were down to only a core
group because so many had fled the DA out of fear. We couldn’t blame them, really. We were all taking quite a
beating, but Neville, Seamus, Michael Corner, Terry Boot, Luna, the Creeveys, and I held fast because we knew
you would have. We always considered what you would do, Harry.

We set the Creeveys as lookouts and set to break Ernie and Hannah out of the dungeons. By this time, we had a
regular hospital set up in our headquarters in the Room of Requirement. Neville had such a way with that room.
It was uncanny the way he could get it to produce whatever we needed with little more than a thought.

Anyway, we sneaked down to the dungeons where Pansy Parkinson and another member of the Slytherin goon
squad were guarding the cells. They’re so stupid and slow, we were able to stun them without any noise at all.
Luna Incarcerused them for good measure and we blew the cell open. Of course, that made noise, so we had to
work fast. Neville broke their chains and Michael and Seamus picked them up and carried them out, with Luna
and I blasting hexes at the Carrows and Crabbe and Goyle on our heels. We just managed to get away from
them into the Room of Requirement, but we had still been caught. The Carrows knew who their chief
troublemakers were now.

Seamus and Michael were taken and worked over pretty badly, but they were released. Luna got tortured and
released, but Neville and I...well, we ended up like Ernie and Hannah. I couldn’t tell you how long we were down
there in the dark, but we kept talking to each other between beatings and torture, swearing to Merlin we’d
never give up. ’Harry wouldn’t give up,’ Neville always said. ’Harry would keep on fighting.’ Harry, my love for
you burned just as strong then as it ever did and I wanted you to be proud of me,” she confessed.

Harry’s heart broke again. His sweet Ginny had been beaten and tortured and still wouldn’t give up her fight
because she wanted him to be proud of her. He was more than proud of her—he now worshipped her. His
beloved Light Goddess was a true warrior and he loved her more now than he’d ever thought possible. The
unspoken thing he sent to her through their bond became holy to him, sacred and pure because blood—each of
their blood—had been shed in the forging.

”I could take it,” Ginny went on. ”I could take it because I knew what I was doing was right. I knew that we were
saving lives and that that’s what we were all fighting for—what you and Ron and Hermione were fighting for.
The miracle in all of this was that no matter how evil the Carrows were or how brutally they beat us, nobody
was killed. I know now that it was thanks to Professor Snape. He’d know about us all along and supported us...
in his own way...”

Harry held her even tighter and shed a few more tears for her pain and for Severus Snape, the unsung hero in
all of this. But he knew there was something else that she held back. ”Ginny. I can feel there's something you're
holding back, worse than the hardship and the pain.” That feeling slammed into him through the bond and she
knew she couldn’t deny it.

Ginny took a deep breath. ”They used the Imperius curse... and forced me to...” Ginny's voice broke. ”Oh gods!
Harry, I had to torture... Muggle... child...” She broke into new and more pitiful sobs, almost screaming as she
cried.

Harry couldn't hide the anger that dwelled inside him. Those inhuman Death Eater monsters! ”The Carrows?” He
couldn’t say anymore for fear he’d break out in a rage and Ginny surely didn’t need that..

Ginny nodded. ”They all but d-dragged me to a classroom and Amycus was there holding...holding a
frightened...Muggle child a Snatcher had t-taken from somewhere,” Ginny said with a weak voice. ”I...I wasn't
prepared when Alecto sneaked up from behind, Imp...Imperiusing me. She had me cast the Cruci...Cruciatus
curse at that child for an hour. I...I don't know who that little g-girl was or wh-what happened to her. All I know
is that they stunned me and I woke up the next morning in my bed.” Ginny cried out her agony and desperation.
Her tiny body shook in Harry's arms and he held her tight, sending his love—all his love to her. ”That little girl...
she wasn’t a human being to them...just an object they used to torture me...Harry, I’m so sorry! I let them...”

She continued to sob into his chest as he held her tightly to himself, his own tears coursing down his face as he
felt her pain through their bond. She clung to him as if she were clinging to life itself. Harry couldn’t seem to
hold her close enough. He nuzzled the top of her head with his moist cheeks, drenching her hair. He rubbed her

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arms and planted kisses everywhere he could reach. ”Ginny, you may not want to or be able to believe me, but
it wasn't your fault... it wasn't your fault, baby...” Harry meant every word of it, as he finally accepted that he
wasn't responsible for all those killed before he was able to defeat Tom Riddle. ”It’ll take time, love, but you’ll
make peace with it. It wasn’t your fault.” I’m going to teach her to throw that damnable Imperius curse off if it’s
the last bloody thing I do. And that goes for the DA and Hermione too!

”I want to believe that, Harry. I'm even glad I told you,” she said between her tears. ”I... I want to tell you
more, but I don't have the strength right now... exhausted...” Ginny breathed a sleepy sigh and fell asleep in his
arms, still taking deep ragged breaths. Harry lay awake, feeling closer to her than ever, consciously hoping to
shield her against any nightmare that might plague her rest. He finally fell asleep as Ginny still lay sprawled out
between his legs, her beautiful head over his heart.

Ron woke up feeling surprisingly good about his impending visit with the Grangers. After a hearty breakfast, he
and Hermione left the Burrow to Apparate to the Grangers.

”Ready,” she asked, squeezing his hand.

”Ready, love,” he replied, steeling himself against his own nerves. ”Let’s do this.”

As they entered the house, Ron had to fight back rising panic, but one look at Hermione's parents and he
relaxed. He could plainly see that they were happy, very happy indeed. Mrs Granger hugged her daughter and
her fiancé warmly, exclaiming her joy at their engagement. Mr Granger beamed and shook Ron’s hand firmly.

”Welcome to the family, Ron,” he boomed, slapping his future son-in-law on the back. ”You’ve made my baby
girl very happy, and if she’s happy, I’m happy!”

”Now let’s see that ring, Hermione,” Mrs Granger said, reaching for her daughter’s left hand. ”Hermione, it’s
beautiful! Ron this is just so perfect,” she said almost breathlessly. ”Look, Daddy. Isn’t it lovely?” And to think
we accused him of having a bad influence on Hermione. She’s beaming.

”Yes, it is,” Mr Granger said, turning to Ron. ”You’ve done well, son.” This young man truly loves our Hermione.

”Thank you, sir,” Ron said, flashing his blue eyes at Hermione and giving her his heart-melting lopsided grin.
”It’s almost as perfect as she is.”

Hermione blushed and mouthed, I love you. She and Ron told her parents about how he proposed to her with
the roses, the notes, and the floating quill and parchment.

”Oh how perfectly romantic, Ron,” Mrs Granger exclaimed, her eyes glistening with tears. ”How ever did you
come up with such a sweet idea?”

”Well...erm...I had to come up with something that didn’t involve opening my mouth,” Ron said with a chuckle.
”I tend to stick my foot in it a lot.” The Grangers began to laugh. ”It’s true though. I get a case of the nerves at
important moments in my life. Ask Hermione, she’ll tell you.”

”It’s true, Mum. I think it’s actually cute, though, considering he doesn’t look like someone who’d be nervous
about anything,” she smiled as she ran her eyes over his gorgeous physique. ”I kept the quill and parchment.”
And I will have this cute one tonight.

”I wondered what happened to them,” Ron said, taken aback. ”You’re going to keep that?”

”Of course, Ronald, and I’m going to put them in a scrapbook to show our children,” she replied. ”I want to
remember that moment for the rest of my days.”

Ron blushed scarlet, and mouthed I love you. She’s barking, but still my goddess.

”So what’s for lunch, dear,” Mr Granger said to his wife. ”I find myself a big peckish, eh Ron?”

”Uh...yeah. I could do with a nosh,” he replied, grinning at his future father-in-law.

”All right then,” Mrs Granger said as she rose from the sofa. ”Come, Hermione. Let’s see what we can find to

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feed these hungry men of ours.” She stepped over and kissed her husband. ”We’ll have lunch ready in a tick.”

Hermione stepped over to Ron and kissed him tenderly, then followed her mother into the kitchen. Within
fifteen minutes, lunch was spread on the table and Mrs Granger called the men in to eat. ”Lunch, you two!”

Mr Granger and Ron all but leapt out of their chairs and made for the kitchen, where Mrs Granger and Hermione
had prepared a lunch of green salad, ham and cheese sandwiches, and potato soup. ”This looks wonderful, Mrs
Granger,” Ron exclaimed, his stomach growling.

”Tuck in,” she replied and they began to eat. While they ate, Hermione breached the subject of Harry’s
proposal.

”Of course opening our own clinic would be a dream come true, Hermione, but I’m not sure how I feel about
allowing Harry to subsidise it,” Mr Granger said.

”Dad, I think Harry offered you this for two reasons. He feels responsible for you ending up in Australia last year
and there’s nothing within his power he won’t do for his friends. Plus, for him, this is a way of helping Ron and
me as well.”

Mrs Granger looked questioningly at her daughter. ”Why would Harry feel responsible?”

”Harry would say that I was a major target for the Death Eaters because I’m his friend. Also, there have even
been rumours for years that Harry and I had a more than friendly relationship, which they might have believed.
And because of that, I had to send you away, making it ultimately Harry's fault. At least that’s his line of
reasoning.”

”You know him a lot better than we do. Does he really mean it, about the clinic? Can he afford it,” Mr Granger
asked.

”Yes, he means it all right. And can he afford it? Harry is a very wealthy wizard, but he doesn't care too much
about it. In fact, it makes him kind of uncomfortable to have all that gold, so he wants to use it to help people.
That’s just how Harry is, Dad.”

”He was like that before he even knew he was rich,” Ron added. ”It’s just the way Harry is. When I first met
him, he bought a bunch of sweets from the trolley on the Hogwarts Express and shared it all with me. He had
only known me for about an hour.”

”Should we even consider accepting his offer,” Mr Granger continued and Ron opened his mouth.

”He won't stop offering you this until you accept.” Ron told them.

Mr Granger nodded. ”All right. It does feel strange, but I can't deny that I’m thrilled. Every dentist dreams of
opening his or her own practice, so my dream as a dentist is coming true. And at the same time, I learn that my
daughter is marrying a fine young man from a fine family. What more could a man ask for?”

Mrs Granger took their hands and looked at them. ”Have the two of you talked about your wedding?”

”Not really,” Hermione admitted ”I guess we're focusing on Harry’s and Ginny’s wedding first. They’ve set their
date for the twenty-fourth of June.”

Mr Granger looked at his wife, who nodded. ”We’ll accept Harry's offer.” he declared. ”And we will give you a
great wedding.”

”Oh, Daddy,” Hermione cried. ”Harry’ll be so happy! This means so much to him!”

Ron shook Mr Granger’s hand vigourously. ”You won’t’ regret this, sir. I promise you.”

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Harry left the school after breakfast to Floo to Ministry atrium. It stood mostly empty because today was a
Saturday and most of the departments and offices were closed. Harry hurried towards the Office for Magical
Transportation and found Percy waiting for him. Percy lead him to a room were an Apparition instructor waited
for him.

”Harry, this is Wilie Twycross. He’s going to test you today,” Percy said, introducing him to the merry-looking old
wizard.

”A pleasure to meet you, Mr Potter,” Twycross said merrily, extending his hand.

”A pleasure to meet you too, sir,” Harry said, taking Twycross’ hand. ”And please—call me Harry.”

”Well, I must be off. Good luck,” Percy said as he left.

”All right, Harry. There's a room on the other side of that wall,” Twycross told him. ”Please Apparate there.”

”Yes, sir,” Harry replied. He turned and spun down. He Apparated into the designated room and to his surprise,
found Draco Malfoy waiting there for him.

”Potter, I have the honour of presenting you with this,” he said with a smirk and handed Harry a wallet-size bit
of parchment.

”My Apparition license,” Harry said, staring down on it as if it were his passport to the heavens.

”Yeah. You’re supposed to keep it on you at all times,” Draco reminded him.

”Thanks,” Harry replied tucking it into his wallet. Now, why are you really here, Malfoy? Certainly not for the
sole purpose of handing me my Apparition licence.”

”You’re so smart, Potter. Nothing gets past you, does it,” Malfoy said ironically.

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle a bit a Draco’s attempt at humor. ”All right, so what’s this all about, Draco,”
Harry asked again.

”I trust you’ve checked out the memory,” Draco said tentatively, his gray eyes on Harry.

”Yes, and I did. And speaking of that, I thought you might like it back,” Harry said, handing Draco the phial.

”Thanks,” Draco replied and tucked it into his robes.

”So you think that woman is the enemy, then,” Harry asked him point-blank.

”She’s the only one I can think of. You see, she's the only Death Eater the Dar...Voldemort never allowed into
the room with the rest of us. He kept her secret and there must have been a reason for that because he never
did or didn’t do anything without a reason.”

Harry knew he needed more leads on this and remembered the plan to get them. ”Malfoy, I would like a report
on everything you can remember about this instant. Can we meet at... King's Cross? You can owl me when you
have it ready.”

”Sure, if you think it'll help,” Malfoy said without any enthusiasm. He didn’t ask why he’d want to meet at King’s
Cross, which surprised Harry. He isn’t asking for particulars. That’s a good sign that he very well might be trusted
after all.

He thought about his plan to use the Muggle surveillance cameras. He hoped that the Death Eaters would follow
Malfoy and be caught on camera. With Aurors stationed in the Muggle security office, they might be able to nail
one of them and get him or her to talk. ”I think it might. You can remember things I didn't notice.”

”Of that I'm certain, Potter,” Malfoy said flatly.

Appealing to Malfoy's sense superiority seemed to be a good move. He would have to file that tactic for future

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reference. Harry reached out his hand and Malfoy shook it. Without another word, Harry left, feeling really good
about his plan to get more and better leads.

Harry returned to his and Ginny's room at Hogwarts in a good mood. He had his Apparition license, a plan to
learn more about the mysterious female Death Eater, and he could feel Ginny’s good mood too. They could feel
each other most of the time now, and for Harry, that was an amazing feeling. Ginny was already there when he
stepped into the room. She ran to him and welcomed him with a deep kiss. She understood from the way Harry
felt that he’d earned his Apparition licence.

”Congratulations, Harry,” she breathed into his mouth. She caught a hint of wood and spice on his robes, the
scent so undeniably Harry that it drove her wild. ”We’ve had a message from Hermione. Her parents have
accepted your offer, Harry.”

”Our offer, Gin,” Harry said smiling.

”Right, I keep forgetting you added me to the vaults...or rather, I try not to think about it... it's so much gold.
I’m just not used to...” Ginny said with forced levity.

”I know. That's why we need good jobs, yeah,” Harry agreed.


”Anyway. Hermione's parents want to meet us. They want to work out some kind of contract.”

”Of course,” Harry said.

Harry told Ginny about the Apparition test and meeting Malfoy. Ginny agreed it was a good idea, provided
Malfoy would be followed. ”He can't be trusted, so it makes sense that the Death Eaters would have him
followed. Let's just hope the one who follows him knows anything of value,” Ginny said.

”Or ones. Death Eaters generally don’t work alone,” Harry reminded her. ”It’ll be the first mission for the DA,”
Harry said only just realising. I hope we’re ready.

”You’ll do fine,” Ginny assured him. She could feel the trepidation he held for his team mixed with a smidgen of
doubt. ”Just make sure everyone is straight about their part.”

On Sunday evening Ron and Hermione returned to Hogwarts. Harry and Ginny sat together with them to talk
about the plan to catch any minor Death Eaters. ”So, Malfoy doesn't know,” Ron asked.

”No. At this point, his loyalty doesn't matter. We're just hoping he’ll be followed, that's all,” Harry explained.

”It seems like a good plan,” Ron agreed. ”I don't think they’ll even consider that we might be using the Muggle
cameras, the smug bastards.”

”We need to talk to Robards tomorrow...and the DA. We’ll need people stationed all over the area, covering our
every move,” Harry said and then turned to Hermione ”Can anti-Apparition wards be set up without the Death
Eaters noticing it when they arrive at the station?”

”Yes. They wouldn't notice until they try to Disapparate,” Hermione explained.

”Great. We'll get Robards and the Aurors to care of that, since we'll need Ministry approval to cast any type of
wards around a Muggle-infested public place.”

Hermione nodded and was about to launch into a lecture regarding the use of magic in areas where there were
lots of Muggles, but Ron noticed and saved everyone a headache by adding ideas to the plan. ”We’d better have
a back-up plan to protect any Muggles who may get in the way or see something they shouldn’t. And of course,
we’ll want to have our arses covered if there's a fight.” Ron pointed out.
Ron, you’re a treasure. I’m sure as hell glad you’re on my side. Harry realised the risks involved in this operation
and the value of an expert tactician. ”I want someone ready to get Malfoy out of there if things get dodgy. He
won't be prepared for an attack, and even if I don't like him, we have to follow Auror procedure and do our best
to keep him safe. Besides, he trusts us and he's likely to get caught in the crossfire if there’s a fight,” Harry said
pointedly.

”You're right, Harry,” Ron agreed. ”You know, I never thought I'd agree that it's necessary to keep Malfoy safe.”

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They all grinned and snickered at the irony of it all.

The coming week was intense, to say the least. Harry explained the plan to the DA, coordinating with Robards
and the Auror Office to finalise the plan. Harry was very clear in pointing out that there were no guarantees that
anyone would follow Malfoy and that, it was a guess, because they didn't think the Death Eaters trusted him. All
they could do now was continue to train while they waited for a message from their contact. One day Ginny
came rushing into a DA meeting, waving a parchment.

”What's that Ginny,” Harry asked.

”It's my contract with the Harpies! They're finally signed and complete!”

”Ginny! That's great, love” Harry said hugging her.

The DA offered there congratulations with hugs and exclamations of ”well done” and ”good one, Ginny!”

”I'm sorry, but I’ve just had enough time to tell you all the good news. Hermione is expecting me in the library.
We have an important essay to write,” Ginny said.

”NEWT classes must be pretty demanding,” Harry sighed.

”We'll celebrate my contracts tonight in our room,” Ginny whispered, touching her fingers to Harry’s lips, leaving
Harry with his mind on something other than NEWT essays.

”I’ll see you all later.” She rushed out of the classroom and turned toward the library.

With all the working out with Harry and the grueling duelling drills with the DA, Ron was back in top form and
just as good as the rest of the DA in a duel and his agility. The work on the Unforgivables was paying off, and
taking the Cruciatus was getting really painful, except for Harry who continued to counter it through his and
Ginny's bond.

Hermione, however, wasn’t taking it at all well. She knew when Ron was taking the curse. She knew because he
paired with Harry and if Ginny wasn’t concentrating on Harry, it must be Ron’s turn to take it. During
Transfiguration, she broke down. Ginny had just helped Harry throw Ron’s assault off and relaxed. She felt
Hermione stiffen next to her as she began to shake and cry.

”Miss Granger,” Professor Bones said softly. ”Is there something wrong?” When Hermione couldn’t answer
because of her sobs, Professor Bones looked to Ginny for answers.

Ginny knew what was wrong, but didn’t feel she should tell Professor Bones and run the risk of being overheard
by the rest of the class. ”I do know, Professor, but all I can tell you is that it has to do with something Harry and
Ron are doing with the DA.” Hermione began to sob outwardly. ”I’ll just take her out, shall I?”

”Of course, Miss Weasley,” Professor Bones replied. ”Miss Granger, Miss Weasley is going to take you out so you
can calm yourself, dear. Collect your things and go with her.” Professor Bones continued the class as Ginny and
Hermione left the room.

”Hermione,” Ginny said, steering her friend toward the room she shared with Harry. ”Ron’s okay. Harry’s not
going to let anything bad happen. You know that.”

”I...I know,” Hermione wailed, ”but I know what that feels like and it just kills me that Ron...that Ron...” She
couldn’t speak anymore. Her knees gave way and she slumped to the floor in a sobbing heap in the middle of the
corridor. Ginny let her lie there for a few minutes and then helped her to her feet.

”Up you get, now. We’ll go to our room and you can lie down for a while. When this class period is over, Harry
and Ron’ll come straight here,” she assured her. ”I’ll make sure Harry knows there’s something wrong.” It was
very likely Harry already knew, since Ginny had already sent worry through their bond. Ginny helped Hermione
onto the bed and conjured a tea tray. She handed a cup to Hermione, who could barely hold it steady. ”Just
drink your tea, Hermione. It’ll calm your nerves.”

”Thanks, Ginny,” Hermione sniffed. ”You’re a good friend.” Hermione began to sob again. ”I know he’s in horrible

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pain, Ginny! I know how it feels,” she cried, handing the cup back to Ginny. ”I love him so much, it just kills me
to know...to know...” She fell over on the bed to sob into Ginny’s pillow.

Ginny climbed up on Harry’s side of the bed to hold her friend while she cried. ”They’ll be all right, Hermione. I
promise,” Ginny said as a tear slid down her cheek for her brother. She knew what he was feeling too.

On Ron's initiative, the DA had engaged in tactical theory and practice, coming together as a precision team.
”You know, in Wizard's Chess, every piece by itself is basically useless, even the powerful Queen. You need
cover, diversion, coordinated attacks, and the entire group looking after each other for protection. I know we all
understand that, but we need to improve on it and make it second nature.” Ron’s training regimen included
coordinated Apparition, and the casting of a varying series of spells to shield, attack, and stun in order to create
cover for any number of battle scenarios.

When Robards got an eyeful of their intense precision training, he stood nothing short of amazed. He took Ron
and Harry aside after class. ”You know, we do practice some co-ordination in normal Auror training, but by
Merlin, this is outstanding!”

Ron blushed. ”I used a lot of ideas from Wizard's Chess strategy,” he admitted.

”Well, it seems to work very well,” Robards said. ”And if it goes bonkers at King's Cross, this tactical ability
you’ve instilled in your team will be quite helpful.”

”Is everything set up at the Auror Office,” Harry asked.

”Yes, we’re all set. Harry, you meet Malfoy. The rest of the DA will be covering you in various modes of disguise.
The Aurors will be looking after the Muggles and will move in at any sign of trouble. I might add that Kingsley is
most eager about this operation, as it is the first time the DA are put into action.”

”No pressure, eh, Harry,” Ron said nervously, hoping a little levity might calm his friend. But in reality, it was
his own nerves he was trying to calm.

”Oh yeah. No pressure, mate,” Harry replied, equally unnerved. ”If that’s all then...”

”That’s all I’ve got,” Robards said. ”Dismiss the class.”

”All right, you lot. Class dismissed,” Ron called. ”Sorry, Harry. I got carried away.”

”It’s all right. They listen to you anyway. Let’s meet the girls at Transfiguration,” Harry said. ”They should be
letting out about now.” Harry and Ron hurried to the Transfiguration classroom where they found Professor
Bones waiting for them.

”Mr Potter, Mr Weasley. Miss Weasley took Miss Granger out of the classroom about half an hour ago. She
seemed upset about your DA activities,” she told them.

”What happened? Is Hermione all right? Where did they go,” Ron asked in a panic.

”Probably to our room, mate. And I think we both know why,” Harry said, pulling Ron toward the Defence
Against the Dark Arts office. ”Come on!” They headed to Harry’s and Ginny’s room at a dead run, skidding to a
stop in front of the cabinet. ”Lawnmower,” Harry shouted, tapping it. The door clicked open and they charged
inside to find Ginny holding a sobbing Hermione on the bed.

”’Mione! ”Mione, Love, what’s wrong,” Ron cried as he sped to her side. Ginny let go of her so Ron could take her
in his arms. ”'Mione, talk to me.”

”Ron! Oh gods, Ron,” Hermione cried. ”You’re all right. I was so scared for you, I...”

”Shhh. I’m a little sore, but I’m all right,” he whispered. He lifted her up into his lap and held her, pressing light
kisses onto her tear-stained face. ”Don’t cry—it’s s all over. We’ve pretty well mastered it now.”

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”I couldn’t take it, knowing what you were going through. It..I...oh gods, I couldn’t bear it!” Hermione buried her
face in Ron’s neck and held on to him for dear life. His warm scent of spice and chocolate filled her head and
comforted her.

Harry and Ginny stood holding one another while Ron calmed Hermione down. Now they were all bound by
common ground—they’d all suffered torture under the Cruciatus curse at some point in their lives.

Since preparations for the mission were all in order, there was nothing more to be done but to wait. Harry and
Ginny did indeed celebrate her contracts in a most pleasing way on the rug in front of the fire.

Apart from school work, Harry talked to Hermione about meeting her parents to get started on the dental clinic.
First of all, Harry, Ginny, and the Grangers would meet and plan and draw up a proposal. The next step was to
have a contract prepared by Gringotts allowing the Grangers whatever resources they would need to start their
business. The first meeting was decided to take place over the coming weekend. Hermione and Ron would
accompany them and this time, Ron felt relaxed about meeting the Grangers.

Hermione knew she needed to talk to Ginny and Harry before they went to meet her parents. She knew Ginny
wasn’t pleased about the letter they’d written about her engagement to Ron and the lack of funds to give her a
landmark wedding, and she also knew Ginny would have told Harry about it, since they keep no secrets from
one another. She needed her friends to understand that her parents loved her, but were very career-minded.
Her mind wandered off, back to the summer before she turned twelve years old.
July was one of the best months of the year. Holiday! Her parents worked so much, holidays were the only time
Hermione felt they really were there for her. Of course they were there every day, but sometimes Hermione
thought that they were more comfortable if she stayed in her room reading her books. Not that Hermione didn't
like to read—in fact, she loved to. So much so that her parents always provided her with books. She loved them
for that, always concerned about her schooling, encouraging her to study and read.
But still, sometimes they seemed perfectly satisfied if Hermione didn't leave her room at all. Was she a mistake,
and the reason she never had a brother or sister that her parents never intended to have a child at all?
Hermione shook off the unpleasant thought. Later this day, they would go to the beach. Dad and she would swim
together for an hour and then join Mum for lunch. Mum had made her all favourite food. Yes, July was a good
month. Hermione was about to return to her book when her dad called to her from downstairs.

"Coming, Dad," Hermione returned, closing her book and placing it carefully on her nightstand.
Hermione entered the living room to join her parents and a very odd-looking guest she never had seen before.

"Hermione, this is Professor Dumbledore. He has asked to see all three of us," her father told her.
Professor Dumbledore looked at her. "Good day, Miss Granger," he said politely.

Miss Granger. Hermione blushed, he sounded friendly. "Good day, sir."

"Please, I’m Professor Dumbledore," he said. "May I get straight to the point?"
Hermione and her parents nodded.

"I am the headmaster of a school called Hogwarts—a school for students with special…gifts."
Both Hermione and her parents were intrigued by his introduction, and he continued talking directly to Hermione.
"I am here because of your gifts, Miss Granger."
For a moment Hermione imagined she heard professor Dumbledore's voice in her head. Do you know what gifts I
am talking about?

"Sir? I mean Professor Dumbledore," Hermione began.

"Mr and Mrs Granger, your daughter has very special talents."

"She is very gifted and studies hard, but I wasn't aware of..." her father began, but Professor Dumbledore raised
his hand.

"Have you ever noticed anything unexplainable happening around Hermione? When she is angry, sad or
frightened, perhaps?"
Both the Grangers kept silent. They did know what he was referring to, but those events were accidents, and not
any gift... weren’t they?
Hermione also understood what he was talking about. Strange things had happened every now and then from

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about the time she turned seven years old. Once she had been so angry with her bushy hair, the mirror in her
room shattered. She hadn't done anything to it, it just broke into a thousand pieces. There was a bully at school
who had teased her about her teeth. He had somehow been knocked out without her ever having touched him.
Fortunately, no one knew about that. Hermione didn't want anyone to think she had hit him, and the bully didn't
want anyone to know a girl, a bookworm nonetheless, had knocked him out. There were at least a dozen similar
events, all unexplainable.
Professor Dumbledore looked at Hermione again. "Miss Granger. You're a witch. Hogwarts is a school for
witchcraft and wizardry." Mr Granger seemed to want to say something, but a single look from the old professor
changed his mind. "What you have seen is unintentional magic," Professor Dumbledore continued. "Oh, it's
nothing to worry about. All young wizards and witches do that. At Hogwarts a young witch like Miss Granger will
learn to perform legitimate magic and control her powers."
Mr and Mrs Granger began to understand that this Professor Dumbledore fellow was quite serious about being
headmaster for this school of witchcraft and wizardry. Their daughter was a witch. To Hermione, it all made
sense. Once or twice, there could have been a reasonable explanation, but all the times together she, according
to the professor, had performed unintentional magic, and had no logical explanation other than the one provided
by Professor Dumbledore.

"You see, most wizards and witches are born in families in which at least one parent is magical. But in every year,
there are those born without magical parents, children like your Hermione," Professor Dumbledore explained.
"Where is this school, and what would it cost to send Hermione there," Mr Granger asked.
"Typical Dad, always thinking about money."

"Hogwarts is a boarding school, and there are funds at the Ministry of Magic assisting families like yours. You see
Mr Granger, we live in secret and it is only after a child turns eleven years old can he or she start at Hogwarts.
Because we haven't prepared you to fund schooling for Hermione at Hogwarts it is also our Ministry's
responsibility to assist you. Are there any more questions so far? If not, I shall leave you for a few minutes."
Professor Dumbledore strolled through the Granger's garden with his hands clasped behind his back, seemingly
fascinated by the lawnmower standing on the lawn.

"What do you think about this," Mr Granger asked his wife.

"It does explain one or two things," she replied thoughtfully.

"What about sending Hermione away to that school?"


Hermione looked at her parents. "Are you interested in my opinion?"

"Sorry dear. Of course we are, it's just... overwhelming," her mother said, stroking her cheek.

"I... I want to go," Hermione said in her typical matter-of-fact way. She knew it meant leaving her school, her
class, her friends, and her parents, but what Professor Dumbledore had told her made more sense than anything
else.
The Grangers began to make preparations for Hermione to board the Hogwarts Express on the first of
September, 1991. A new world had opened to Hermione, but part of felt was sad as she got seated alone on the
train, because she felt that her parents were relieved to send her away to a boarding school. She had no idea
how her life would change when she decided to help a chubby boy her age search for his missing toad. She had
no idea how special she was when she slid open the compartment door and met two boys, one a redhead and the
other raven-haired with round glasses.

Hermione knocked on Harry’s and Ginny’s door. Harry answered. “Hermione. Ron. What’s up?”

“Harry, could we have a word with you and Ginny? It’s about the letter my parents sent when I told them about
our engagement. Ginny didn’t like it and…” Hermione stammered.

“I know about the letter. Ginny told me. C’mon in,” Harry said as he ushered them in. “Gin, Hermione and Ron
would like a word.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there,” Ginny called from the bathroom. She came out with a towel on her head, having just
washed her hair. “Tea?”

Harry conjured a tea service with a few biscuits and they all sat down to the table, where Ginny poured out.
“Thanks, love. So what’s up,” Ginny asked.

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Hermione decided the best thing to do was to dive right on in. “Ginny, my parents didn’t mean any harm when
they sent that letter,” Hermione tried to explain. “They really love me, it’s just that they’ve been career-
oriented most of their lives and they felt bad because of everything that’s happened that kept them from
building a savings for a wedding for me.”

“Well, I suppose. I just didn’t like that it upset you so much, that’s all,” Ginny said shaking her head. “I mean,
was that really necessary?”

"Their focus on their careers combined with the Granger matter-of-fact... -ness is sometimes very blunt, even
insensitive," Hermione explained. “Tact and diplomacy have never been my parents’ long suit. I think they just
panicked, that’s all.”

“Yeah, Gin-Gin. They’re really nice people,” Ron said in the Grangers’ defence. “They’re really happy for us.”

“Ginny, love, not all families are Weasleys,” Harry said with a smirk. “You’re just used to people taking
everything in stride. Some people struggle with that, am I right, Hermione?”

“Right in one, Harry. To professionals like my parents, money is a really big issue,” Hermione said. “It’s a status
thing for people like them to be able to throw lavish weddings for their daughters.”

“Just give them a chance, Ginny,” Ron said to his sister. “You’ll see. They’re really all right.”

”Something strange is going on. I learned of a secret meeting between Mr Malfoy and Potter at the Ministry,” he
reported.

”So,” she asked.

”There was no one else present. We don't know what they talked about.”

She considered the significance of this information. Malfoy was the only person she could use to get close to
Harry Potter if it need be. But it was unacceptable not knowing what he was doing. There could be no mistakes.

”Have him followed,” she ordered.

”Yes, my lady,” he bowed. ”And if he encounters Potter?”

”Gather information. Take no action for now. Report back to me when you learn something.”

He bowed again and left the room.

She thought about Malfoy again. She had visited Malfoy manor a couple of times while the Dark Lord was there.
Malfoy couldn't have seen her. If he knew her identity, it would either be in the Prophet if Malfoy was loyal to
the Ministry, or he would have used his knowledge to demand a meeting with her. No, Malfoy didn't know about
her.

Her plan was slowly coming to fruition and she hoped to have the element of total surprise on her side. But
Dumbledore's Army needed to be attacked, coordinated with other attacks, simply to be kept busy. That is, when
she would reveal herself to Potter, so that he might know who destroyed his world.

Chapter 14: Surprises


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Chapter 14 - Surprises

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At noon that Saturday, there was a knock on the door. Mr Granger opened to find his daughter, her fiancé, and
two others he assumed to be Harry and Ginny on his doorstep. Mr Granger had learned about the
accomplishments of these remarkable young people, and it was hard to imagine that these four teenagers were
war veterans and the greatest heroes in the Wizarding world. He looked at Harry, the famous Chosen One, who
was reputedly one of the richest wizards in the land. He remembered how Hermione had told him that Harry
didn't feel comfortable being treated like a hero, so he would do his best to remain cordial.

”Hello! Welcome, all of you. Hermione and Ron, lovely to see you...and you must be Harry and Ginny,” Mr
Granger greeted them, shaking their hands and hugging his daughter. He gave Ron a fatherly pat on his
shoulder. Harry and Ginny also shook his hand. He showed them into the living room where Mrs Granger served
lunch. ”Is everything well at Hogwarts,” Mrs Granger asked.

”It's a lot of work,” Ginny said, ”but we really learn a lot.”

”And you Harry, I understand it you're teaching,” Mr Granger asked.

”Actually, I lead a group known as Dumbledore's Army, or at least the eight of us becoming Aurors,” Harry told
him.”We teach Defence Against the Dark Arts sometimes too, but none of us are actual professors.”

The conversation continued for a while before shifting over to business. Mr Granger seemed to feel a bit
awkward. ”I admit starting our own clinic has been our dream, but still it feels a bit strange accepting your
money to do it.”

”Ginny and I quite uncomfortable having all that gold in our vault as it is. We decided we should use some of it
to help others. Besides, if it hadn’t been for me, you wouldn't have ended up in Australia last year. We are
happy to invest some money in your dental clinic,” Harry said pointedly.

”We know. Hermione explained it all, and it isn’t because of you. We know why you kids had to go on the run.
We know it was because of that evil Voldemort all of that happened,” Mrs Granger said. She handed Harry a
paper with figures written on it. ”This is a draft of what kind of investment we’re talking about.”

The paper listed equipment, rent, supplies, and everything needed to run a clinic. The Grangers had found
perfect premises in central London. Mr Granger blushed a little as Harry read the paper and took note of the
amount of funds necessary to start the clinic. ”Are you sure this is enough,” Harry asked. ”I could add some
more, just in case.”

Before the Grangers had a chance to protest, Harry looked at Ginny. ”Well, we'll take this to the goblins at
Gringotts,” Ginny explained. ”They’ll prepare a contract and once signed, you will have the funds at your
disposal.”

”I don't quite know what to say,” Mr Granger said.

”You don’t have to say anything. I'm just glad we could help you,” Harry said matter-of-factly.

Harry never ceased to amaze Ron with his almost-flippant attitude toward money and how he suddenly became
so confident and sure of himself. The final year of the war had changed them all. Harry seemed more secure and
had emerged a confident leader figure. He had always been a leader, but over this past year, what with leading
the DA and facing his fame, Harry seemed to accept the role more readily, but still held on to that kind and
generous nature that had endeared him to so many all these years.

What Ron didn’t know, though, was that Harry’s relationship with Ginny made him more comfortable with
situations he used to consider awkward, if not frustratingly annoying. Since he was able to constantly feel
Ginny's love, and knowing that she constantly felt his, Harry knew he could face anything. The meeting
concluded with Harry promising to get in touch with the Grangers once he had the contracts ready.

When the Grangers were alone together again, their thoughts and conversation turned back to the day Professor
Dumbledore knocked on their door to explain that Hermione was a witch. Hermione’s was not the only life that
changed that day. The Grangers hadn't bothered to learn much about the Wizarding world, but now they
realised it was necessary that they did. Their daughter was marrying Ron, who's family were wizards and
witches, so they couldn’t very well arrange a proper wedding for Hermione and Ron without some understanding
of their world and its customs.

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Hermione had to modify their memories and send them to Australia because of her part in the war, and that
made them more interested in understanding it. They wanted to be able to answer the most basic questions
about Hermione's war experiences and understand the significance of their daughter having been awarded the
Order of Merlin, First Class. It wouldn’t be proper for Wizarding people they’d never met to know more about
Hermione's life than they did. Harry's and Ginny's generous offer to fund a dental clinic for them was the icing
on a very many-layered cake. The Grangers still felt a bit dubious about accepting money from such young
people, but they had to admit that it was a sound business investment, so that relieved much of the
awkwardness. They couldn’t be happier. After all, Hermione was becoming part of the Weasley clan, as was
Harry, and for some reason, that, in itself, seemed significant enough.

During the first week of March, Harry received an owl from Malfoy. He had written his report and was ready to
meet Harry at King's Cross Station. Following some discussion with Ron as to the best day to meet with him,
they agreed that noon that coming Friday would be perfect. The Auror Office and DA were notified, and duelling
training became more intense than ever all that week. Harry had to settle the DA down after sending Cho and
Lavender to Madame Pomfrey with cracked ribs and bruises, and Ron with a broken leg resulting from a
tumbling mishap. They all recovered practically overnight, good as new, and focused intently on their first
mission. They were all cautiously eager prove themselves a precision team of crack crime-fighters.

Early Friday morning, the DA gathered in their classroom for a quick briefing before they reported to the
Ministry. ”All right, people. This is our first mission,” Harry said, surveying his team for one last time. ”What we
do today could make or break this program.”

”Is there anything special we need to know over and beyond what we’ve already been told,” Anthony Goldstein
asked.

”Not that I know of, Tony. I just want to stress that no one is to engage in any reckless heroics. That gets people
killed,” Harry said pointedly.

”Yeah, that sort of recklessness is reserved for Harry,” Ron snorted, trying to dispel some of the nervous tension
in the room.

”Stuff it, Weasley,” Harry smirked. ”You’ve been known to engage in a bit of recklessness yourself. Just do your
job, that’s all we ask.” Harry thought back over the years to the night during their first year at Hogwarts when
he, Ron, and Hermione went through the trapdoor. One of the obstacles in their quest for the Philosopher’s
Stone was a giant chessboard designed by Professor McGonagall. Ron, sacrificed himself as a Knight in a violent
game in order to allow his friends to advance to the next step, ultimately resulting in Harry thwarting
Voldemort’s plan to use the stone to revive himself.

”Are there any more questions,” Harry asked his team as he studied each of their faces. ”No? Then let’s move
out. Be safe, people!” The eight future Aurors left their classroom and made for the headmistress’ office to Floo
to the Ministry for further briefing and instructions.

No one seemed to notice the black-haired boy shuffling through the station. He stopped, looked at something,
and continued. He was an ordinary-looking teenager, except for a strange scar in his forehead, but his out-of-
control hair mostly covered that. Harry surveyed the chosen location for the rendezvous with Malfoy. It would be
possible to cut this area off with the wards, if necessary, and deal with Muggle memories later. With the Aurors
controlling the surveillance cameras, there was no risk of revealing themselves to the Muggles at all.

Robards busied himself with setting up the anti-Apparition wards. He was impressed with this plan that Potter
and Weasley had dreamed up, considering that the worst case scenario would be that no one would follow
Malfoy. However, if he was tailed by a Death Eater, they would nab him or her—he felt sure of that.

Ron sat in a Muggle coffee shop overlooking the area. From his table, he could see the other DA members
disguised as Muggles milling about. He felt reassured knowing they and the Aurors were nearby to cover Harry
and Draco. It was still some time before Malfoy would arrive, so Ron let his mind wander a bit. He thought about
he and Harry leaving Hogwarts this morning. Hermione had been really nervous kissing him goodbye, for the

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first time not joining him and Harry in the fight against darkness. She was weepy and a bit clingy—he knew she
would be.

Of course, Ginny didn't like it either, but accepted it more readily. After all, she had the luxury of being able to
feel Harry's state of mind, whereas Hermione wouldn’t have a clue as to his own. Ron imagined his sister having
a hard time keeping her focus on lessons today, and by Merlin, he could consider the possibility that studies
wouldn’t be foremost in Hermione's mind today either.

Ron smiled nostalgically as he licked dry lips. He could still feel and taste her kiss lingering faintly there.
Hermione was, beyond her logic and wit, a warm-hearted, passionate, and impulsive woman. Breaking Malfoy's
nose in their third year or blowing up the Dursleys’ front door last summer had more than made that clear as
well water. Anyone who dared cross her today might very well regret it. Yes, he loved that part of Hermione as
well as her wit and logic.

Harry had sat down on a bench prepared with a Muggle-repelling charm. Any Muggle sitting down there would
suddenly remember that they really needed to check which train was scheduled to leave Platform Three, to
double-check their reservation with British Rail, to buy a newspaper, or something else that would cause them
to leave immediately. The bench needed to be empty for Harry and Malfoy to have their conversation.

Right on time, Malfoy approached Harry’s bench and sat down. He looked at Harry conspiratorially and neither
said a word to the other. Malfoy handed over a file and Harry opened it. It seemed as if Malfoy was waiting for
Harry's approval. In fact, Harry was merely trying to make this meeting last for a couple of minutes, giving his
team a chance to spot any Death Eaters who may have followed Draco into the station.

Suddenly, Harry and Draco heard the sounds of Apparition. Harry supposed it was Aurors Apparating in, because
Disapparition wouldn’t be possible with Robards’ wards in place. They must have seen someone and Harry's
concentration spiked a warning through his bond with Ginny. He felt calm, though, from her instant response.
Ron noticed his friend's focused face but hadn't heard the Apparition pops from the coffee shop. The next
moment all hell broke loose.

The Aurors sprang into action, sealing all the exits with magical walls and anti-Muggle charms. Everyone outside
this area of the station would not be aware of anything strange goings-on inside this hall of King's Cross Station.
A small battle had begun. Harry watched as the Aurors closed in, with the DA members prepared for battle,
looking after panicked Muggles who had no idea what was happening.

”Stupefy!” The first spell originated from the wand of a person disguised as a Muggle. Harry remembered the
experimental stunning bombs Ron had given him. He threw one into a group of Muggles and they collapsed to
the floor. He threw a few more at a spot where he knew none his team would be. Knocking out the Muggles was
the best way to deal with them until the situation could be brought under control. Harry had to duck to avoid
another Stupefy, but found himself engaged in a duel a split-second later.

Ron dashed out of the coffee shop to cover Harry, and heard Malfoy swear. He had probably tried to Disapparate.
Ron stunned him from behind for his own safety as well as because Ron couldn't be certain whose side Draco
was on. Ron evaded an attack directed at Harry's back with a shield charm, and began to duel the attacker.
There seemed to be at least five of the enemy. This should be a rather short fight because there eleven of us and
only five of them.

Gawain Robards moved towards the stunned Malfoy. He needed to cover him to keep him safe. Spells and curses
flew everywhere in rapid succession, and there were still Muggles in the line of fire, despite Harry's great idea to
stun them all collectively.

Cho observed the battle from her position. She wasn't under attack, but awaited in disguise to assist whenever
and wherever needed. She identified a Death Eater making his way towards Harry, who couldn’t see him. The
wizard raised his wand and Cho called out. ”Harry, on your right.” Cho threw a badly-aimed stunner as a
distraction. Harry heard her warning followed by an unpleasant voice hissing, ”Avada Kedavra.” Harry avoided
the curse as he spun to his right and stunned his attacker.
”No,” he heard someone yell in agony and moments later, the spellfire ceased, followed by the popping sounds
of Disapparition. Harry had a hard time understanding what had happened until he turned his head in seemingly
slow motion. Dawlish held the lifeless body of his boss in his arms. Gawain Robards was dead, struck by the
killing curse meant for Harry. Gawain couldn’t have seen it coming because his attention was fixed on the
unconscious Malfoy.

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Harry took stock of the aftermath. Everything had happened so fast. The Head of the Auror Office was dead and
two of the enemy had been able to Disapparate because Gawain's restrictive wards lifted when he died. Three of
the attackers were stunned and arrested. Seamus was bleeding but standing on his own. The rest appeared to
be unhurt.

Harry sent a Patronus to the Muggleworthy Excuse Office to come and deal with the fifty or so Muggles who had
witnessed the fight. That meant some overtime and a lot of paperwork, but they had handled worse. Harry
immediately tried to get a grip on the situation. They had arrested three Death Eaters and would use every
means available at the Auror Office to find out what they could from them.

The isolation of the area minimizing exposure to Muggles had worked perfectly. Cho had saved his life, but they
had lost Gawain Robards in the bargain, and in a meaningless way. All that was left was for Harry to check on
and debrief his team. ”Are you all right,” he asked with a tremble in his voice. ”Seamus? Anyone else hurt?”

”I'm fine. I guess I look like shit though. I’d better get to Madame Pomfrey. I took a Sectumsempra in me
chest.”

Harry gave him leave and went to check with the others, who confirmed that they were fit and fine. Harry
breathed deeply making his way to Dawlish.

”He took it straight in the chest, Harry,” Dawlish said bitterly. ”Those filthy Death Eaters we arrested better be
worth it.”

Harry didn't know what to say, but he patted Dawlish’s shoulder reassuringly, which Dawlish seemed to
appreciate. Clearly the Aurors were in varying stages of shock, more so than the DA. The Aurors looked for
someone to take charge after losing their leader and they seemed to be looking to Harry. ”All right. Get the
Death Eaters locked up at the Ministry, let the Muggleworthy Excuse Office do their job, and we’ll meet at the
Auror Office as soon as possible,” Harry said.

He didn't like stepping up as the leader, but someone had to do it. Dawlish certainly wasn’t in any shape at that
point. The Aurors left with the prisoners. Ron ennervated Malfoy and explained truthfully that he had taken a
stunner in the back, omitting the fact that it was Ron himself who’d cast it. Harry had an idea and turned to
Malfoy. ”We’ve arrested three people,” Harry said, casting a silent Legilimens. ”But Gawain Robards took the
killing curse in the chest.”

Malfoy didn't show any hint of emotion and Harry couldn't get anything through Legilimency either. He had
hoped for some kind of emotional response strong enough for him to feel something that might have revealed
Malfoy's loyalties.

An hour later, the DA, sans Seamus ”Irish” Finnegan, and the Aurors met in a conference room at the Ministry
for debriefing by Kingsley Shacklebolt himself. Dawlish was the last one to report. ”... and once Chief Robards
was dead, two of the Death Eaters escaped,” he concluded.

Kingsley tried to perform a quick evaluation. The loss of Gawain Robards hit him hard because no one he knew
would be a natural replacement for the fallen Head. It was good news the DA had performed flawlessly, and they
did manage to apprehend three suspects. This was the most significant arrest of Death Eaters in months, and
the first major step in uncovering a mysterious plot.

Kingsley looked at the team. ”The Aurors will this weekend off, except for Dawlish and Smith, who I want to
interrogate the prisoners. The rest of you, your only task is to write your reports and meet back here Monday
morning. I’ll have a decision on a replacement for Chief Robards.” Kingsley decided. ”Dumbledore's Army will
return to Hogwarts. Mr Potter and Mr Weasley will collect your reports on Monday morning and represent you
here at the meeting.”

After the meeting, Harry took Cho aside. ”Thank you. Your warning saved my life,” Harry said.

”But resulted in Chief Robards’ death,” Cho said.

”That wasn't your fault, Cho. But it does hurt that a great wizard like Robards died because of a stray killing
curse. You did well today—all of you did.” It meant a lot to Cho that Harry was pleased with her part, and not

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only for saving his life.

”Thanks, Harry. See you back at Hogwarts then,” Cho said.

Harry gave her a quick hug and then hurried to join Ron in the atrium to Floo back to Hogwarts. They stepped
out of the fireplace in Professor McGonagall's office. The instant they arrived, she could see that something
terrible had happened. ”Gawain Robards was killed,” Harry told her. ”But we arrested three Death Eaters.”

Harry and Ron looked at their former Head of House. She simply nodded. It seemed only yesterday that
innocent eleven-year-old Harry Potter set foot in Hogwarts castle for the first time. Now, over seven years later,
he returned from a joint operation with Aurors fighting the dark arts. It didn't seem that long ago that Gawain
Robards was a student at Hogwarts himself. ”He was a good man and a great Auror,” Professor McGonagall said,
dabbing at her bespectacled eyes with her handkerchief. ”He was one of my Gryffindors, you know.”

Harry and Ron left the headmistress to find their fiancées. They were in Hermione's and Ron's room, already
aware that something bad had happened because Ginny felt it through her bond with Harry. She had sent Harry
as much strength as she could muster, and maybe it was that strength Harry had felt when he took charge of
the situation at King's Cross Station. They sat down on the rug in front of the fireplace to talk.

”Robards was killed,” Ron said flatly. ”He took a killing curse meant for Harry.”

”What? Harry, is that true,” Ginny asked in panic. ”What about the others? Seamus...”

”Yes, Gin, it’s true. Cho managed to warn me just in time. I spun and it missed me, but Gawain... Gawain was
busy covering Malfoy and didn’t see it coming,” Harry told her, his voice full of regret. ”Malfoy was stunned, but
in the open. Seamus took Sectumsempra to the chest. He should be with Madame Pomfrey right now, if she
hasn’t released him already. The others are fine.”

”I’m sorry about Mr Robards, love,” she said softly, taking his larger hand in her smaller one. ”Seamus’ll be in
the hospital wing for the night. I know for a fact that Madame Pomfrey won’t let him go until morning, at least.”

”I was worried sick, but Ginny assured me everything was fine until she felt... it must have been Gawain's
death... ” Hermione said cuddling up close to Ron. ”But we knew you would have sent a Patronus if... you know,
either of you were hurt.”

Ron gave her a squeeze as he leaned down toward her ear. ”I thought of you before the fight, love. It kept my
head screwed on straight in all that chaos.”

”So what happens now,” Ginny asked.

”Dawlish and Smith’ll interrogate the prisoners, we’ll write our reports and then go back to the Ministry on
Monday. I can just about guarantee that there’ll be something about this in the Prophet,” Harry sighed.

Harry was right. Gawain Robards’ death was front-page news the next day. Harry was interested in reading what
the paper had to say about the mission. He knew Kingsley was on good terms with the Editor-in-Chief, but this
was big news.

”Head of Auror Office Killed in Action


Gawain Robards, Head of the Auror Office was killed in battle yesterday. The Ministry reports that a joint
operation between Harry Potter's DA and the Auror Office led to the arrest of three Death Eaters. In the turmoil,
a battle started and Mr Robards was hit by the killing curse. The Death Eaters are in custody under
interrogation.
There has been no news as to who shall replace Chief Robards, and none of his Aurors wished to speculate. The
loss of Gawain Robards is a heavy one, but according to the Ministry, there are several candidates under
consideration.”

”Imagine that,” Harry said tossing the paper to Ron and Hermione. ”No mention of Malfoy or King’s Cross
Station.”

”Yeah, it looks like Kingsley truly does have friends at the Prophet,” Ron replied. ”They actually let Robards go
with dignity.”

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”Careful, big brother. You might give someone the impression you—shall we say—endorse that rag,” Ginny
teased.

”As if,” Ron sneered. ”I’m not ready for the psych wards yet, little sister.”

”Well, you do have to admit that the Prophet has been good to us since...well, you know,” Hermione reminded
them.

”Hermione, really. Do you think the Prophet would leave us be if Kingsley didn’t have any influence,” Harry
reasoned. ”I wouldn’t trust this ridiculous publication if my life depended on it!”

”So you’re Xeno Lovegood’s man then,” Ginny teased. ”All the way?”

”All the way,” Harry laughed.

”Here comes the rest of the team,” Ron said, jerking his thumb toward the entrance. ”Looks like Madame
Pomfrey turned Seamus loose after all.”

As soon as the DA sat down with their respective houses, they were surrounded by curious students asking all
about the joint operation, however, the war veterans were not among them. They knew too well that these elite
didn't need nosey students asking them a lot of curious questions. When Seamus entered the Great Hall, the
students without battle experience immediately understood that they’d do well to back off and leave the Auror
DA alone.

Despite Madame Pomfrey's expert care, Seamus’ Sectumsempra cut still had not healed. A nasty gash ran from
his ear downward, disappearing under his shirt. Harry knew it extended across his friend’s chest. Once the
bleeding stopped, Seamus was cleared to leave the hospital wing, so long as he took a number of repulsive-
smelling potions. His neck and throat were swollen and purple, his voice gravelly.

The sight of the injured Seamus seemed to hit the students harder than the news of Gawain Robards’ death. The
horrors of battle became reality. The Prewett twins, Patricia, and Joseph had only just arrived as the DA made
their way into the hall. They stared at Seamus with eyes wide and mouths agape. They were among the
students who hadn't asked questions, mostly out of respect for their part-time instructors, but when Seamus sat
down next to them they couldn't resist.

”Are you all right Mr Finnegan,” Emma asked with a quietly concerned voice.
Mr Finnegan. Seamus jerked around as if he thought his dad had suddenly appeared, but then he remembered
that the younger students called him that. Since he’d been teaching Defence against the Dark Arts, Mr Finnegan,
was the compromise between his own preference, Seamus, and the students' choice, Professor Finnegan.

”Thanks to Madame Pomfey I'm fine, Emma darlin’...unless these Potions kill me,” he grinned.

”You haven't lost your humour,” Harry laughed. ”You'll live.”

Patricia caught the smell from the Potions. ”Ew, it smells like one of my disasters,” she cried, wrinkling her
nose.

”It's s’posed to heal this accursed wound,” Seamus told her. ”But sometimes I think Madame Pomfrey adds
somethin’ to her potions to make ’em taste like dragon dung—to torture us.”

Harry agreed with Seamus’ assessment and told the Munchkins about the various potions he had taken over the
years. Of all the horrible stuff he’d ever had to drink, Skele-Gro still topped the list as the worst.

”In my second year,” Harry began, ”we had a perfectly useless Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.”

”Gilderoy Lockhart,” Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Seamus all laughed together.

”He was really into himself,” Harry continued. ”He’d written books about all kinds of stuff he was supposed to
have done, but he really didn’t do...”

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”Yeah. He was a real nutter,” Ron said. ”Thought he could smile us all into liking him.”

”Hey, he had a nice smile,” Hermione said.

”Yes, but he was useless, really,” Ginny said. ”And those stupid dwarves in Cupid’s wings on Valentine’s Day
delivering singing Valentines all over the school..”

”Right in the middle of class—or outside it, eh Harry,” Seamus added with a pained chuckle as she held his
chest. ”Laughin’ through the pain, laughin’ through the pain.”

Harry and Ginny blushed scarlet. ”Let’s not go there, Irish,” Harry warned.

”I was just sayin’. That’s all,” Seamus said in mock penitence. ”It was funny, though.”

”Shut it, you,” Ginny said, throwing a piece of toast at him. ”Let Harry finish!”

”As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by my crack crime-fighting team...” Harry began again.
”Lockhart was a useless fraud. He claimed credit for stuff other wizards did so he could sell his ruddy books.”

”You mean his those books about Werewolves and Banshees are rubbish,” Erica asked, crestfallen.

”Yes and no. The events in them are true, it’s just that Gilderoy Lockhart had nothing to do with them, Love,”
Harry replied.

”Gryffindor had a big Quidditch match against Slytherin. I played Seeker opposite a fellow called Draco Malfoy.
He and I didn’t like each other very much.”

”Didn’t like each other? Harry, you two bloody well hated each other,” Ron exclaimed. ”The ruddy git.”

”Give the man a break, mate,” Harry chided his best friend. ”He’s trying to turn over a new leaf.”

”I’ll believe it when I see it,” Ron muttered.

”Malfoy and I were both looking for the Snitch. We’d been chasing each other all over the pitch when a rogue
Bludger took after me. The Gryffindor beaters spent so much time keeping that one Bludger away from me, our
Chasers took a beating from the Slytherin beaters bashing them about with the other one,” Harry explained.
”Finally our Keeper and team captain, Oliver Wood, called a time-out. I told the Beaters, Ron’s and Ginny’s older
brothers, Fred and George, to let me worry about the bad Bludger while they looked after our Chasers.”

Harry had to stop to take a drink of orange juice before he could go on. By this time, a crowd had gathered
around the Gryffindors, comprised of students from other Houses, including a few from Slytherin. Harry looked
around, threw his hands in their air and continued his story as his audience urged him on.

”All right, all right! So I headed back up to my favorite place about fifty feet above the action to watch for the
Snitch and dodge that crazy Bludger. Finally, I saw it! I dived after it, but Malfoy was watching me and
followed...and so did that ruddy Bludger. That thing chased after me and Malfoy as we chased the Snitch. It
careened around the pitch, crashing through everything in its path to get to me.”

”But ’Arry,” Joseph said. ”Ain’t it illegal to mess with Quidditch equipment?”

”It is, Joseph, but this one hadn’t been tampered with by a wizard. It had been charmed by a House-elf out to
save my life.”

A buzz passed through Harry’s now-substantial audience. ”Harry, why would a House-elf out to save your life
charm a Bludger to attack you,” Patricia asked. ”And what’s a House-elf?” The crowd erupted with laughter, as
did the elder Gryffindors at the table, including Seamus, who once again had to hold his chest.

”That’s another story, Patricia dear,” Hermione said. ”Please go on, Harry.” The others nodded to each other,
prompting Harry to continue.

”Where was I? Oh yes, Snitch... Bludger. Malfoy and I raced closer and closer to the Snitch as the Bludger came

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at me from all different directions—left to right, then back to front, all around us. Finally, Draco crashed and I
caught the Snitch, giving Gryffindor the win.” The Gryffindors erupted in cheers and applause, but Harry quieted
them so he could finish his story. ”But there’s more. You see, when I caught the Snitch, the rogue Bludger
slammed into my right arm and shattered it.”

”Yeah. Harry sat there on the ground holding his broken arm while a bunch of us gathered round,” Ron
continued. ”Hermione got to him first, then me, then a few others.”

”And then Lockhart,” Harry said with a snarl. ”The bloody fool insisted that I let him fix my arm when I really
wanted to go to the hospital wing. Somehow I knew that idiot was going to foul this up, especially after the
Cornish Pixie Incident.”

”I remember that! They hung Neville by his ears on the giant candle holder,” Seamus exclaimed, snickering and
holding his chest. ”Lockhart panicked and left us to clean up his mess!”

”Hermione was the one that contained them,” Ron said. ”But that’s another story too!”

”I tried to tell him I didn’t want him to touch me, but he wouldn’t listen. He pointed his wand at my arm and
shouted something like brachia immendo or some such nonsense,” Harry stopped to take another sip of orange
juice.

”So what happened,” Emma cried in frustration. ”Did he fix it?”

”Oh he fixed it alright,” Harry laughed. ”He removed every single bone in my right arm and hand! It just flopped
around like a rubber chicken.” The audience burst into fits of laughter, including those who’d witnessed the
entire affair. Some of them could barely breathe for laughing so hard.

”Professor McGonagall was furious and Madame Pomfrey wanted Lockhart’s head on a platter,” Hermione
laughed. The audience began to laugh anew, clutching at their sides and falling all over one another.

”So they took me up to the hospital wing, leaving Lockhart on the pitch muttering to himself,” Harry continued.
”Madam Pomfrey took one look at me and...”

”...screamed bloody murder,” Ginny said. ”I was standing outside the ward while she was examining Harry. I was
crying my eyes out with worry, so I stayed back while Ron, Hermione, and the team went in. I didn’t want Harry
to see me blubbering over him.”

”You were blubbering over me,” Harry asked, rubbing her back. ”Really?”

”Of course, you silly prat! I was in love with you, but you didn’t notice,” Ginny confessed sticking out her lip. The
audience let out a collective Awwww.

”I was a silly prat, wasn’t I?”

”Finish your story, Silly Prat-boy,” Ginny laughed, nudging him. ”You’re finally at the point as to why you’re
telling it in the first place!” The audience laughed again and pressed Harry to finish his story.

”Madame Pomfrey was fit to be tied, bustling about between me and Malfoy. He was lying in another bed,
moaning and groaning when there was nothing wrong with him. She threw him and his friends out while she
fussed over me. I’m her favourite patient, you know,” Harry said taking a swig from his orange juice.

”She produced this bottle of potion that looked like a skeleton called Skele-Gro.” Harry winced and made a face
at the mere thought. ”She fussed that she could mend broken bones in a heartbeat, but re-growing them would
take all night, and the that process would be painful.” Harry paused again for effect. The audience winced and
groaned together as they held their respective right arms and tried to imagine Harry’s painful ordeal.

”I had to drink a shot of that stuff every couple of hours all night long until my bones grew back. If you think
what you’re taking is disgusting, Irish, you haven’t tasted anything yet! Polyjuice potion tastes like Butterbeer
compared to Skele-Gro. I was good as new come morning, but it hurt like hell all night! On top of that, the
House-elf that charmed that Bludger had the audacity to visit me that night to confess and justify himself! I
wanted to strangle the little bastard.” The crowd gasped.

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”So what happened to the House-elf, Harry,” Patricia asked meekly. ”Does he still work here?”

”He didn’t work here at that time, Patricia. He belonged to...a family. He finally did save my life one
night—mine, Ron’s, and Hermione’s…and few others—but he died doing it. His name was Dobby,” Harry said
sadly. ”He was a good friend.”

Ron raised his glass of orange juice and called, ”to Dobby! A free Elf! Slaínte!”

”To Dobby,” the Gryffindors replied. ”Slaínte!” None of the Gryffindors outside the Weasley assemblage had the
slightest clue what Slaínte meant, but they repeated it anyway. If Ron Weasley said it, it must be right. The
Gryffindors drank to Dobby’s memory, the crowd applauded, and then dispersed.

Ginny rubbed Harry’s back as he sat there staring down at his empty orange juice glass. ”You miss him, don’t
you, Love?”

”Yeah, I...”

”Harry, I’m sorry,” Patricia said. ”I didn’t mean to make you sad.” Tears welled up and began to steal down her
smooth little face. Her bottom lip trembled as she fixed her gaze on the floor.

”Oh hey, Patricia, Love. Don’t cry,” Harry said drawing her into a hug. ”You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m all
right.” He let her sob into his shirt until she felt better. ”Now, chin up and give us a smile.”

Patricia lifted her head up gave him a teary smile.

”That’s it. Now run along and we’ll see you later, okay?”

”Okay, Harry,” she said as she turned and skipped away. ”Hey, wait for me, you lot!”

Hermione and Ginny left their men to finish their essays, reminding them about the reports they were supposed
to write for Monday. ”She's right, and she knows it,” Ron said about Hermione. ”We’d better write our reports,”
Harry sighed. ”I know Ginny and if I don’t get it done...”

”Yeah, I know,” Ron snickered knowingly.

The reports took several hours to finish, and by supper on Sunday evening, Harry had collected all the reports
from the DA. He was looking forward to hearing the results of the questioning, but anxious about who the new
Head of the Auror Office might be. He had built a trust with Gawain Robards, but now there were only two
people left in the Ministry he really trusted—Arthur Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Percy still had a long way
to go before he could gain Harry's trust, despite being his future brother-in-law. Of course, there were a number
of other Ministry workers Harry considered good people, but he didn't know them well enough to trust them as
he had trusted Gawain Robards.

Harry and Ron had just headed down to the Great Hall to meet the girls for supper. They had finished their
reports, so they knew the meal would be pleasant. The rest of the student body had just about filled the Great
Hall and were eating already when Hermione and Ginny appeared and made their way to the Gryffindor table.

”Hey, Gorgeous Guy,” Ginny said silkily, giving Harry a moderately lingering kiss. ”Have you finished your
report?” She gave him her signature blazing I want you look making Harry gulp.

”Hey, Gorgeous Girl,” he said huskily and sent a wave of love and desire through their bond. She blushed hotly
as she slid into the seat next to him. His arm immediately snaked its way around her waist while her hand slid
up his thigh. ”Yes, they’re ready to turn in tomorrow morning.”

Across the table, Hermione hugged Ron from behind and whispered something in his ear that made him grin,
blush, and then chuckle. She slid in next to him and raised her face for a kiss. ”Mmmm, tasty,” she cooed.

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in tight, whispering into her ear. ”Careful, Love. I might have to
ravage you right here in front of the entire school.”

”Promises, promises,” Hermione laughed as she served herself some mashed potatoes and ham. ”Have you

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finished your report?”

”Mate,” Ron said to Harry, ”I believe we have been sabotaged by two very beautiful operatives.”

”Nice undercover work,” Harry said, looking down at Ginny. ”Perhaps we’ll just have to surrender, yeah?”

”Just try to escape,” Ginny purred, moving her hand a little further up Harry’s thigh. Harry hitched in a ragged
breath as his emerald green eyes darkened as she sent flames through their bond.

”We might have to restrain you for the interrogation,” Hermione said, licking butter off Ron’s fingers as she
stared into his eyes. Ron about passed out right there at the table. His sapphire eyes had already gone cobalt
with desire.

Harry and Ron had never eaten so fast in their lives. When they were finished, Ron practically picked Hermione
up and carried her out of the Great Hall to their room while Harry all but dragged Ginny out.

”So does this mean I’m under arrest,” Ron teased as they closed their door behind them.

Hermione threw herself into his arms and wrapped her legs around his hips. ”You are, Mr Weasley.” She crushed
her lips to his and grabbed a fistful of his flaming locks. ”You are accused of impersonating a god,” she growled
into his mouth, allowing him to claim her tongue.

”Oh? Well, if this is an interrogation, I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he groaned as he carried her
toward the bed. ”What’s your first question, Auror Granger,” Ron said as he lowered her to the mattress and
began to bite at her neck.

”You’ve been seen driving a chariot across...oh my, Ron,” Hermione moaned as he began to unbutton her blouse
while he continued to kiss and nip at her pulse point. His scent of spice and chocolate was driving her wild and
she arched in to him. She reached down for the hem of his jumper and pulled it over his head, exposing his
muscular chest and bulging biceps that still bore the scars from the tentacled brain attack in the Department of
Mysteries three years before. ”You are a god,” she groaned as she ran her hands across his hips and up his
rippling back. ”No further questions. You’re free to...”

”...ravage you, Auror Granger?” Ron continued to tease her as he fumbled with the button of her jeans. When
the button came loose, he began to slowly pull down the zipper. ”Has the physical evidence spoken for itself?”
He continued to kiss her neck and shoulders as he slowly slid her jeans off her perfect legs, taking her shoes and
socks off as they dropped to the floor.

”Mmm, yesss,” she hissed as she fumbled with his belt. She could feel his arousal as she unfastened his jeans.
”My ginger god has enjoyed this line of questioning,” she cooed. She set her thumbs into the waistband of his
jeans and his boxers and tugged them both down together, freeing him from his cotton and denim prison. This
sight never ceased to amaze her.

”When the interrogator is a goddess, the god always enjoys the interrogation,” he began to chuckle. ”But let me
continue the line of questioning, my goddess. What is it that I may do to worship you?” Ron helped Hermione sit
up long enough to discard her blouse and bra before he carefully removed her lace bikini knickers and pressed
his fingers into the soft globes of her arse.

”So beautiful,” he breathed into her ear. Lavender and vanilla—nectar of the gods. ”I love you so much.” He
heaved himself over her to the other side of the bed, so as not to crush her. He couldn’t get his head around the
fact that this lovely creature, this true goddess could be in love with him.

She pulled his head down into a searing kiss, full of love and desire. Her hands worked their way up and down
his back as she adjusted her hips to receive him. ”Now, my ginger god. Now,” she moaned. ”If you want to
worship me, take me to your Olympus!”

White hot desire filled his already addled head and all reason escaped him as he positioned himself at her
entrance. He growled that animal growl that drove Hermione into a frenzy. ”You drive me mad!” Ron grabbed
her hips and thrust forward, crying out her name as his brain exploded with the heat rolling off her. She
wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him in deeper. ”Sweet Merlin,” Ron cried. ”That’s so good!”

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Hermione soon matched his rhythm as they began to build into an earth-shattering climax. The abyss yawned
ever closer as the tension grew ever tighter. ”RON,” Hermione screamed as her body began to shudder with
ecstasy. ”Oh gods, Ron,” she cried as she found release.

Ron kissed her deeply, just on the edge of his own release into the abyss. Wave after wave of pleasure washed
over them as he worked his way to climax, their tongues lashing furiously at one another. ”HERMIONE,” he
howled as he tore his mouth away from hers, his release filling her to the brim. They fell together into ecstatic
nothingness until their bodies recovered.

Ron rolled off Hermione as their chests heaved for breath. They were covered in sweat, but filled with
everlasting fulfillment. They gazed into one another’s eyes, kissing and caressing and sharing in the afterglow of
their love. ”I love you, Hermione Jean Granger,” Ron said as he caressed her skin, making laps around and
across her perfect breasts. ”I love you so much.” His blue eyes blazed with unquenched desire.

Hermione stared back into his blazing eyes and lost herself in them. ”I love you, Ronald Bilius Weasley,” she
whispered. She wrapped her arms around his neck and grabbed a handful of his hair as he leaned in for another
blockbuster kiss. She found herself melting into his arms at the touch of his lips to hers. Electricity shot through
her body as she wrapped one leg around his thigh. She couldn’t get enough and wanted more. She rolled over
on top of him and began a new ascent into the heavens until they collapsed, spent, and fell asleep, their arms
and legs entwined in a sweet embrace.

Harry waved his hand at the fireplace as he and Ginny hurried through the door to their room. A blazing fire
burst forth from the grate and began to heat their chilled quarters. Ginny opened the dresser and pulled out a
flimsy something Harry assumed was a nightgown. ”Be right out,” she called as she sashayed into the bathroom.
Harry could hear the water running as she brushed her teeth.

Harry undressed to his boxers and cast a warming charm over the bed. ”No reason we can’t have a warm bed to
climb into,” he muttered to himself.

”What did you say, Love,” Ginny asked as she padded out of the bathroom.

”Uh... I...” Harry gulped and stammered. Ginny stood before him in the flimsiest green nightgown he’d ever
seen. It just barely covered her curvaceous bum and reached only to the middle of her thighs. It was held up by
only two thin strips of ribbon that lay over her milky shoulders. ”I... Ginny, that’s beautiful.”

His Light Goddess stood before him as though a dream, her eyes blazing with desire. ”What’s the matter, Harry?
Kneazle got your tongue,” she asked him as she slowly walked toward him, her hips rotating with each step. She
pressed her body against his, marveling as she always did at how well they fit together. She slid her warm
hands up his defined chest and wrapped them around his neck. She pressed her lips to his in a seductive kiss.
She pulled away and stared into his darkened eyes.

Harry leaned in for another of her sweet kisses as he snaked his arms around her waist and gently pulled her in
tighter, his arousal pressing into her belly. She twisted her fingers into the band tying back his still-growing
raven locks. She pulled gently and it slid off, releasing his hair into her hands. ”Mmm, I love your hair, Harry.
It’s so sexy this way.” She let him claim her mouth again.

There was something about this that spurred him to deepen the kiss. He moaned and ran his tongue along her
bottom lip until she opened her mouth, but beat him to the tongue war. The moment his tongue entered her
mouth, she latched on and held it for a few seconds as the heat of their passion blazed into a flame. He growled
and grabbed a fistful of her fiery tresses. ”I want you, Gin. I want you now!”

”Then take me,” she snarled and pulled herself up until her face was buried in his woodsy, spicy scent. ”Take me
now, Harry!”
Harry picked Ginny up and carried her to their bed. He silently cast another wandless warming charm on it and
laid her down gently, pressing her into the mattress with his own body, careful not to crush her tiny frame. His
unruly hair fell into his face, but she took great pains to smooth it away as she ran her hands through it. He
captured her lips once again in one of his mind-blowing super-kisses that drove Ginny wild. In a trice, the

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remainder of their clothing was gone. ”My sweet, sweet Ginny,” Harry moaned as he entered her with another
searing kiss.

”Harry! Oh gods, that feels so...” Ginny cried as she matched his rhythm. Extraordinary emotions passed
through their bond as they experienced one another’s experience in a way they’d only done once before in an
experiment several months before. But this time it was different—they were able to do it in the actual moment.

Harry’s head spun as they thundered on. There were again no words to describe this experience as wave after
wave of a new brand of their unspoken thing passed between them. It was more intense, more precious, more
sacred than it had ever been before. Her wildflowers and strawberry scent intoxicated him in a whole new way,
or so it seemed to him. ”Gin, my gods, what you do to me!”

The familiar molten lava coursed through their veins and erupted through their bond. Gryffindor’s lion roared in
Harry’s chest as his climax began to build to dizzying heights. Their breathing became more and more ragged
with each passing moment until their tears of joy and ecstasy began to flow onto each other’s faces and into
their kisses. Ginny moaned and whimpered as her own climax welled up in her like a tidal wave ready to crash
on to the shore. They shouted one another’s names as they reached their pinnacle and exploded together in
release.

They lay there motionless for what seemed like hours as their bodies trembled and shuddered as they
recovered. They held each other in a desperate embrace until the last wave ebbed away and they could move
again. Harry raised up on his elbows and gazed into Ginny’s chocolate eyes. ”I love you, Gin. I love you so
much.”

Ginny couldn’t speak. Her heart was so full and her body’s energy spent, that all she could do was stare back
into his emerald green depths and him and hope he could feel her reply. He rolled off her and held her trembling
body, while he stroked her hair. They lay together, still shedding tears of ecstasy until she was able to collect
herself. She lay her head on his chest to listen once again to Harry’s heartbeat.

”Harry.”

”Yes, love.”

”Could you feel that?”

”Feel what, Gin?”

”It was like I could feel you feeling me,” Ginny said tentatively. ”Like when we did the experiment that second
time here in front of the fire. Remember?”

”You felt that too? I thought I was losing my mind,” Harry confessed. ”That was bloody fantastic!”

”It was. I felt closer to you than ever before, and I didn’t think that was possible,” she said, snuggling in tighter.

”It reminded me of the way I felt that night that you told me about your... year.”

”How do you mean,” she asked.

”Well...after you fell asleep, I laid here for a bit holding you, thinking about how you’d been so brave and how I
loved you so much. After you told me that, I... I felt more like a part of you and you more a part of me,” he said,
haltingly. ”I can’t explain it, really.”

”Harry, do you think this might be another phase of our... connection?”

”I don’t know for sure, Gin, but it sure looks like it is,” Harry said. ”It just seems to me that whenever something
momentous or important happens between us or we learn something new about one another, something
happens with the bond.”

”Yeah, you’re right. Do you realise how this thing has progressed and where from,” she asked.

”What do you mean, Gin?”

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”Well, I’ve given a lot of thought to what you told me Dad and Bill said about this bond and how it came to be.
Our hearts were bound in the common room when you kissed me for the first time after that Ravenclaw game.
Our souls were bound when you walked into the forest to die for me,” Ginny explained.

”Go on, I’m with you,” Harry urged.

”Our bodies were bound when we made love for the first time after you proposed to me on my birthday,” she
said. ”All that’s left is our minds. What do you think that means?”

”I’m not sure, but I can only guess that, at some point, it’s going to be more than just emotions and shared
feelings we’ll be able to pass between us,” Harry speculated.

”Something more? Like what, Harry,” Ginny asked.

”Like we’ll be able to literally talk to one another through the bond and that’s when our minds will be bound,
completing the...I don’t know...circle, I guess.”

”That’d be bloody brilliant, Harry! Imagine being able to talk to one another even if we’re miles apart,” Ginny
exclaimed with a renewed energy. ”Harry, we’ll never be lonely for each other again...at least not completely!”

”I don’t know, Gin. We’ll just have to wait and see,” he said. ”But for now...” He rolled her back over and claimed
her still-swollen lips for a goodnight snog. If it progressed further, that was just fine with him, but he’d be
content to just fall asleep in one another’s arms. And they did.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was worried. He couldn't decide who should be the next Head of the Auror Office. There
was talk after the King's Cross operation about the Ministry of Magic yet again failing, and depending on Harry
Potter to save the day. Those who disliked the way Kingsley tried to run the Ministry made the most about the
death of Gawain Robards. The Minister for Magic looked at John Dawlish, the Auror he had called for a meeting
in his office to brief him before meeting all the Aurors, Harry, and Ron.

”John, what is the situation in the Auror Office?”

”Chaotic. Honestly it's a big mess. Losing Robards has dealt a low blow to morale.”

”Who would you like to see appointed as the new Head,” Kingsley asked. Dawlish looked at Kingsley, to see if it
was a question or a hidden offer to make him the Head. Kingsley seemed to ask him, expecting only an honest
answer. ”Have you considered Harry Potter,” Dawlish asked.

Kingsley was surprised by this answer. Kingsley was hoping that Harry would one day become Head of the Auror
Office, but now? He wasn't even an Auror yet.

”He's not an Auror,” Kingsley said. ”He’s just barely an Intern.”

”No, but he beat three of us in a duel, and he is the leader of DA, a much better organization than the current
Auror Office, as much as I hate to admit it.”

Kingsley looked at Dawlish to encourage a further explanation. ”Miss Chang and I both saw what was about to
happen. She warned Harry and saved his life, but Gawain had no one to warn him. I didn't think about it until
later, but if I had warned him, he might have lived,” Dawlish admitted.

”Sure. The DA has an outstanding record,” Kingsley said.

”Also, Harry is the Saviour. He would inspire the entire office. Many of our people watched him duel Voldemort.
They didn't see a wizard who just became of age, but the disciple of Albus Dumbledore becoming the new
Master,” Dawlish added.

”Are you speaking for all the Aurors?”

Dawlish nodded.

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”Harry doesn't like things like the Saviour,” Kingsley said.

”I know, but that's what people think no matter what Potter wants them to,” Dawlish replied.

Kingsley was relieved in a way, knowing Harry had the trust and support of the Aurors. But he couldn't make
him Head of the Auror Office. Not yet, anyway.

”I'll make you Head, John. Concerning Harry, appoint him Auror if he pass the exam, make him your Assistant
Head if you wish, get as many DA members as possible through the exam. We need a strong Auror Office.”

Dawlish nodded. Kingsley knew John Dawlish wasn't the most skilled in a duel, at least not by Auror standards,
but he had good ideas, he was able to see new ways to work, and could possibly bridge the gap between the
”old” Auror Office and the new one.

”I'll do my best, sir.” Dawlish replied, accepting the position. ”Any other directives for the Auror Office?”

Kingsley thought about it. ”Let's get those reports together and go to the meeting. We need to get to the bottom
of this Death Eater plot. I'm curious about your interrogation of our prisoners.”

Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped into the conference room where Harry, Ron, and the Aurors all met. His
countenance was grave and broad shoulders a little slumped as he sat down with a heavy sigh. He surveyed the
people around the table, folded his hands and rested his forehead on them as if in prayer. ”Gawain Robards’
death is a tragic loss for this Office, and you need a new Head,” the Minister for Magic said, raising his head.”
Therefore, after much consideration, I have decided to appoint John Dawlish as the new Head of the Auror
Office. I’m sure you’re all aware of Dawlish’s qualifications.”

Kingsley scanned the room again. Some of the Aurors nodded in outright agreement, but others chose to offer a
supporting glance to their new chief. ”Since it appears that there are no objections, there is no need for
discussion, so we’ll just get on with the meeting, shall we?”

The Aurors and the two trainees nodded their assent and Kingsley continued. ”All written reports of Friday’s
operation shall be turned in to Chief Dawlish. In the meantime, what have we learned from interrogations? Chief
Dawlish?”

”The leader of this plot is a young woman, still in her teens,” Dawlish began. The group looked around at one
another, while Harry and Ron sat stunned. ”She is described as a brilliant, but frightening witch, cold and
calculating. One of them said he’d met both Bellatrix Lestrange and this young witch and told us he has never
been more afraid in his life than when he was introduced to the two of them. Unfortunately, none of them know
her name or what her plans are. All they knew for sure is that they were ordered by a man they describe as her
right hand to follow our Mr Malfoy.”

Ron gasped and Dawlish paused to address him. ”Mr Weasley?”

”I had a scary hunch. You wouldn't happen to have the prisoner's memory of meeting this young witch, would
you,” Ron asked shadily.

”Of course we do,” Dawlish said. ”Why do you ask?”

”Can I see it,” Ron asked darkly.

Harry didn't know what Ron was thinking, but he could see he was really worried. Harry watched him leave the
room with Dawlish to watch the memory in a Pensieve. A few minutes later they returned and Ron looked like
he’d seen the ghost of Bellatrix Lestrange.

”We have an identity, thanks to young Weasley, here,” Dawlish announced almost giddily, turning to Ron.
”All right. Here goes,” he said turning red, blushing because he was not used to being the center of attention,
and in this room, everyone was looking at him with great interest. ”My mum, Molly Weasley—well, Prewett
before she married dad... but that's beside the point—she has something like a second cousin who’s a Squib. She
told me about him before the war started. She said he’s the only one in our family who wouldn't be considered a
blood traitor by Tom Riddle. He always hated his pure-blood relatives, he hated half-bloods even more and
Muggleborns most of all, as they have magical powers without being born in a Wizarding family.” Ron paused as

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thoughts of his best friends and his Hermione filled his mind.

”Anyway, he isolated himself from the Wizarding world and married a Muggle. Although he hated his own, the
Prewetts and the Weasleys, he was a big fan of other worthy pure-blood families, such as the Blacks, the
Malfoys, and the Lestranges. You get the picture. He and his wife had a witch-daughter, Mafalda. She’s a few
years younger than me. Mum’s cousin didn't want her manipulated by Albus Dumbledore, so she never attended
Hogwarts.”

”Excuse me,” Harry interjected.

”Go ahead, Potter,” Dawlish allowed.

”What makes you think it’s her?” Harry couldn’t fathom that any member of that family could conceive of such a
thing as to plot to overthrow the Ministry or commit murder.

”Mum showed me a picture of her once, and told me that Dad had seen her hanging around with known Death
Eaters. It’s her all right, because she's the one in the memory I watched. Mafalda Prewett’s as crazy and evil as
Bellatrix Lestrange.”

The room fell deathly silent. ”Are you saying a teenager filled with hatred towards our world, possibly taught
magic by Death Eaters, is the one behind this plot,” Kingsley asked.

Ron nodded and sat down. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table. He blew out a long
puff of air and ran his hands through his shaggy hair. Harry felt bad for him. Ron looked positively sick. It was
hard to imagine that a member of Ginny’s and Ron’s family, no matter how distant, could be so closely
associated with the evil of Tom Riddle.

”But she can't be...she's only...fifteen or so...” one Auror argued.

Harry snorted at the comment. ”As I’m sure you are all well aware, in my fourth year at Hogwarts, I participated
in the Triwizard Tournament, not by choice, you understand. By a sick twist of fate, I ended up duelling
Voldemort to a draw in a graveyard at the age of fourteen. In my fifth year, I organised and led the original
Dumbledore's Army—the DA, as you now know it—with Ron, here, and Hermione Granger. We were fifteen and
sixteen years old, and some of our members were as young as twelve.”

Harry’s face began to take on an urgently earnest look not often present in that of a mere eighteen-year-old. He
had the attention of the entire room now, and he knew it. ”We were six teenagers—in the exact same age group
as Miss Prewett—who broke into this very building, lured here by Voldemort on a mission to rescue my
godfather, Sirius Black. Remember him?” Harry’s tone had become sarcastic in his desire to make his colleagues
understand what he was driving at.
Harry raised his voice a little, almost shouting. ”We ran into Voldemort’s most powerful and trusted Death
Eaters, one of whom murdered Sirius Black that night. We fought them off in a running duel all over the
Department of Mysteries, and lived to tell the tale. When the Order of the Phoenix arrived, we fought alongside
them and captured several of them and severely injuring at least one,” Harry said with a quick glance toward
Kingsley, who nodded.

”So what’s your point, Potter,” Smith asked, a bit agitated.

”My point, Auror Smith, is that young people are capable of just about anything we set our minds to, and should
never be underestimated. I don’t think I need to go into last year, do I? Mafalda Prewett could very well be the
one behind all of this, but the most frightening thing is that, Death Eaters aside, she was very likely trained by
Voldemort himself!”

Harry’s words hung in the air for a few moments as the Aurors and the Minister sat in contemplative silence.
They all knew Harry was right and that there was no need to confirm anything. Once Chief Dawlish recovered
his own rattled composure, he continued to read the reports, but little that mattered much to Harry came out of
them.

”Who are you and what have you done with the silent and brooding Harry Potter,” Ron snickered quietly as he
nudged his best friend and partner-in-crime-fighting.

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”He’s seething on a back burner,” Harry snorted, trying not to smirk because what actually ran through his mind
was not something he cared to discuss with his future brother-in-law.

Following the adjournment of the meeting, Dawlish asked to see Ron and Harry, so they followed him into the
office that now belonged to their new chief. ”Ron, how did you come to think of your distant relative,” Dawlish
asked. ”I'm just interested, because it's our best lead so far.”

”Well, you said she was in her teens. Most likely a Slytherin if she’d studied at Hogwarts. Because she’s still in
her teens we should know her, but I couldn't picture any Slytherin girl we know leading a Death Eater plot.
Harry, could you see...Pansy? Or Millicent...leading something like this?”

Harry was amazed by Ron's ability to draw conclusions. Most certainly this girl had to be a Slytherin if she’d ever
been sorted into a house at Hogwarts. Like Ron said, neither Pansy nor Millicent, nor any other Slytherin girl
they knew of had the brains...or the stones to lead anything like this. So any teen girl sharing Voldemort's ideas
would have to be someone relatively unknown who had not studied at Hogwarts.

That narrowed the list considerably, leaving only one girl—this Mafalda that Ron, by some lucky twist of fate,
knew about because of his unfortunate distant relation to her. Well, Ron was distantly related to Bellatrix too.
And Harry knew the Potter family also was related to the other pure blood families, so he could very well have
some distant familial link to her too. Harry cringed at the very notion. ”Hermione must have had a good
influence on your wits, Ron,” Harry grinned. ”That's really sharp thinking.”

”How do we proceed? Any ideas,” Dawlish asked. These two kids are brilliant and I’m going to make the best use
of them I can. I know better than to look a gift Gryffindor in the mouth.
”We should check on Mafalda's mother. If Mafalda wants to follow in the footsteps of Tom Riddle, she might try
to kill her Muggle parent, just like he murdered his own Muggle father,” Harry suggested.

”If she hasn’t already. I don't think she’ll kill her dad, though, but maybe we should try and get in touch with
him, anyway,” Ron added.

”All right, I'll get some people on that. You’d better have a talk with Mrs Weasley. She might know more than
she already told you,” Dawlish told them.

Harry and Ron nodded. Dawlish looked at the two of them. ”I also want you and the rest of the DA to take the
Auror exams as soon as possible—that is, the parts you failed in September. We really need to strengthen the
Auror Office and the Ministry, and if your performance last Friday is any indication, we need you desperately.
Those opposing Minister Shacklebolt’s administration are using Chief Robards' death as a means to undermine
his position.

With you and the rest of the DA joining the ranks, Mr Shacklebolt's position could become infinitely more secure.
Like it or not, Potter, your opinion carries a lot of weight inside the Ministry and out. Weasley, yours too. You
have no idea how valuable you are to this Office. Your skills have proven you as outstanding Aurors, but your
fame precedes you,” Dawlish told them honestly. ”And just so you’re aware, most of those opposing this
administration are people who were sympathetic to Voldemort's agenda, but who never took an active part as
Death Eaters.”

”How bad is it, sir,” Harry asked.

”Well..the Aurors support our Minister, and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is loyal too. But even
with our combined power, another war will most assuredly tear our community apart. Basically, we’re almost
through with our internal investigation of ministry employees and their actions during the war, but we suspect
there are still many who are loyal to the Death Eaters, or at least their ideals, still wandering about this building
on a daily basis just laying low and biding their time. Gentlemen, there is a silent unrest that’s been growing
after Mr Robard's death. The situation could become volatile just that quickly,” Dawlish said, snapping his
fingers.

Harry and Ron thought about what the new boss had told them. Harry had expected to feel happy about taking
the Auror exam, but the situation at the Ministry drained his happiness but strengthened his resolve. ”I'll take
the exam,” Harry declared. ”I’m ready.”

Neither Harry nor Ron had much use for politics or politicians other than Kingsley Shacklebolt, but they wanted

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to become an Aurors so badly they could taste it. They both realised, especially Harry, that as soon as they
became licenced Aurors, the Ministry would use that and their Fellowship in the Order of Merlin to gain support.
So now was as good a time as any to take the exam since Kingsley needed them more than ever before.

”I'll take it too,” Ron said, uncertain if he would even pass, since he hadn't been in training as long as the rest of
the DA.

”I think the rest of the DA is ready to take the exam as well,” Harry claimed.
Dawlish seemed to relax. ”I have one request, Harry. I would like to make you my Assistant Head of the Auror
Office once you've passed the exam.”

Harry's jaw dropped. ”What? Chief, that’s not possible! I haven’t...there are certainly more...” Harry looked to
Ron for support. Run just shrugged, equally gob smacked.

”There's no one more skilled in duel, no one more experienced against the dark arts. My battle experience is
limited, since I’ve spent most of my career behind a damned desk. Hell, I’m liable to die behind a desk! This
administration needs your experience and I need you in a position where you can use that experience to do
better things than make speeches and push parchment. As Assistant Head, you would be authorized to give
orders that will very likely save a lot of lives in a battle situation.”

Dawlish's idea made sense, although it alarmed Harry. But Harry nodded his acceptance anyway, still stunned by
this surprising revelation. He and Ron left the office and made their way to the bank of lifts.

”Blimey, Harry! Assistant Head! If anything mental happens, it happens to you, mate,” Ron said in awe of his
friend. ”Should I call you ”sir?”

”Shut it, you,” Harry said shaking his head, still disbelieving. ”My name is Harry.”

”All right. Sir Harry, then,” Ron snickered as they boarded the lift that would take them back to the atrium to
Apparate back to the school gates.

”Sod off,” Harry snickered and Disapparated.

Ron landed right next to him and they began their trek across the grounds to the castle. The delicious smells of
the noonday meal reached their nostrils as they pushed open the great oak and iron doors and stepped into the
Entrance Hall. ”Perfect, we're just in time for lunch.” Ron said. Nothing seemed to diminish Ron's appetite.

Harry and Ron spied Ginny and Hermione already eating lunch. But they also noticed the Prewett twins sitting
further down the Gryffindor table with Patricia. Harry had a hunch and moved over to them after getting a
much-needed kiss from Ginny. Erica, Emma and Patricia looked surprised when Harry asked if he could sit with
them for a moment. They nodded.

”Erica, Emma, do you know of a relative of yours, Mafalda? She's about fifteen...”

”Mafalda... stay clear of her, Harry. She’s really mean. I've only met her once, but she scared me when she
pointed her wand at a bird in our garden...and it died. That was two years ago, before the war. All Mum would
tell us is that she and her daddy are distant relatives and didn't have anything to do with the family unless they
wanted something,” Erica said shakily.

Harry was more worried than ever by the little girl’s story. A thirteen-year-old witch capable of casting the
killing curse was beyond even Harry’s imagination for a teenager.

”Do you know anything else about her?”

“Only that she's evil,” Emma said with narrowed eyes. She cocked her strawberry head to one side quizzically.
”Why do you ask, Harry?”

”Oh, she might know things about Death Eaters, but please don't tell anyone else about her, okay? It’s really
important,” Harry told them gravely.

”We won't,” Erica and Emma promised in unison.

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Harry returned to Ginny, Hermione and Ron. Ron had already filled his plate to overflowing and was shoveling
the food into his mouth when he looked up at Harry questioningly.

”Later, all right,” Harry said, grabbing a plate.

That afternoon, Harry and Ron told Ginny and Hermione parts of what had been said at the meeting, including
the part about Harry becoming Assistant Head.

”It's great that you're taking the exam,” Hermione said. ”You’ve all worked really hard and you’re ready as you’ll
ever be.”

”Assistant Head Harry Potter, that's quite a first job, love,” Ginny said proudly.

”Well Holyhead Harpies Chaser is quite all right too,” Harry replied, winking at his fiancée.

”I found a job I’ll apply for,” Hermione revealed.

”Whatever it is you'll get it,” Ron said confidently. ”What is it, love?”

”It's a junior position in the Beings Division at the Department For the Regulation and Control of Magical
Creatures,” she said very fast looking very happy.

”Uh huh!?” Ron said knowingly. ”And what exactly would you be doing?” As if I didn’t know.

”House-elf rights for starters.” Hermione said.

”Oh dear! SPEW invades the Ministry,” Harry thought out loud. Ginny elbowed him in his ribs. ”Ow! Such
abuse!” He laughed and put his arm around Ginny.

Hermione stared half-amused and half-patronisingly at her friend and surrogate brother, a House-elf owner, no
less. ”Well, you’re not my top priority among slave-owners, because I know for a fact you treat Kreacher fairly,”
she said.

”Slave owner,” Harry sputtered, immediately regretting it because it was just what Hermione needed to get
started on one of her House-elf rights diatribes. ”I inherited Kreacher, I didn’t buy him or however one gets
house-elves. Besides...”

”Harry, I know about how you feel about Kreacher and how you felt about Dobby, but house-elves are slaves.
And don't tell me they like being slaves...they just don't know anything else.”

”Hermione, you know I would free Kreacher if it wouldn't break his heart and kill him. I can't do that to him,”
Harry said, still on the defensive. ”Honestly, you know I'm all for better treatment of house-elves and you’ll
probably do wonders for them,” Harry said, hoping to placate his surrogate sister.

Hermione knew that Harry, Ron and Ginny supported her, even if they did tease her by telling her she was a bit
mental about the house-elves. She didn't think about it as anything stranger than their collective obsession with
Quidditch.

Before the House-elf discussion heated up, Harry decided to steer the conversation back to topic. ”I’m going to
the Burrow on official business—to talk with Molly.”

”I hope you're not arresting Mum,” Ginny grinned.

Ron laughed. ”Even if Mum would do something illegal, who would be suicidal enough to arrest her? No, we need
to see if she knows any more about Mafalda and her dad,” he said.

”Did you send an owl to warn her we were coming and what about,” Harry asked.

”Of course I did. She needs a decent chance to prepare a meal worthy of a discussion like that,” Ron smiled.

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”Always thinking with your stomach,” Hermione sighed. And a fine stomach it is.

”Ron. Do you think Aunt Muriel might know anything? She is a Prewett and seems to know almost everything
about everyone,” Harry suggested.

Ron looked at Harry with an unreadable expression. Of course Aunt Muriel knew anything worth knowing, but to
actually go there and take the insults to get the information from her didn’t appeal to him at all, especially since
he knew food would definitely not be involved.

”We’d better see her too...but I'd rather have Ginny Bat-Bogey me,” Ron said starting another letter to his
mother’s paternal aunt.

The next day, Harry wanted to read the Prophet just to see what it would have to say about Dawlish having
been appointed Head of the Auror Office. He and Ginny had breakfast in their room, where they read the paper
together.

”John Dawlish Appointed New Head Of the Auror Office


In a decisive move yesterday, Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt appointed John Dawlish as the new Head of
the Auror Office. He replaces Gawain Robards, who was killed this past Friday in a battle against a small group of
Death Eaters. John Dawlish worked with Kingsley Shacklebolt during his own time as Head. His position among
the leading Aurors continued with Gawain Robards, who took over the position when Shacklebolt was appointed
by the Wizengamot as Minister for Magic following the death of Rufus Scrimgeour and the arrest of his dubious
successor, Pius Thicknesse. No one is surprised that Mr Dawlish was appointed and he has the full support of his
colleagues.
There are unconfirmed rumours that Harry Potter and Dumbledore's Army's involvement in the operation on
King's Cross Station had been a final test designed to determine if they were ready to take the Auror exam. The
loss of Aurors like Mr Robards, Mr Moody and Mrs Lupin (Miss Tonks during her time as an Auror) have weakened
the force. Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Mr Boot, Mr Goldstein, Mr Finnegan, Miss Brown, Miss Bones and Miss Chang
are, despite their young age, all among this nation's most experienced witches and wizards when it comes to
fighting the dark arts. They would add competence, reputation, and skill to the Auror Office. The only official
comment we have been able to procure comes from the newly-appointed Head, John Dawlish himself,
'Dumbledore's Army will take the exam when they are ready.'
Gawain Robards will be buried privately following a ceremony officiated by Kingsley Shacklebolt.”

”It could have been worse,” Ginny commented.

Harry nodded. It was for the most part reporting facts and didn't single Harry out for once, but credited the
entire group. ”I'm glad they haven't announced I'll be the new Assistant Head,” Harry said. ”That could have
created a whole new set of problems.”

”Me too. They will, though, when it happens. You do realise that, don’t you? But I'm glad for Dawlish's sake that
he got the headlines today. It would have looked bad if the Assistant overshadowed the Head in the Prophet,”
Ginny said ironically.

Ginny was right. Instead of reporting the replacement for Gawain, the Prophet would have focused on Harry, as
he probably would be the youngest Assistant Head ever or something like that. He tried not to think about it,
and felt the need to send Lee Jordan an owl, instructing him about how to deal with the press once his
appointment to that august office was made official. Harry hoped that they would wait until he passed his exam
and received his Auror licence before anything like that leaked out.

After breakfast, Harry kissed his beautiful soon-to-be wife and inhaled the intoxicating flowery scent he never
grew tired of. He sent a wave of the unspoken thing through their bond and then left their room to meet Ron for
their official visit with their beloved matriarch.

Chapter 15: The Aurors


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Chapter 15 – The Aurors

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”I should have sent Gnomes,” Mafalda Prewett hissed glaring at the two men.

”But we killed Robards,” one of them whinged.

”Did I tell you I wanted Robards dead,” she snapped raising her wand.

She pointed it on the one being silent. ”Can't you speak,” Mafalda asked and without waiting for an answer
pointed her wand. ”Crucio!”

The man cried out from indescribable pain. He felt as though he was being slowly torn apart, burned alive, and
stabbed by countless knives all at once.

Mafalda sighed. ”You apparently still have a voice,” she said, lifting the curse.

”My lady, we have no excuses. We were outsmarted, attacked, and surrounded by the Aurors and Potter's
group,” the other one claimed.

”And three of you were arrested, one of whom knows my identity,” Mafalda said. She thought about the events.
Robards death could maybe be used to further make the Ministry believe she was attacking them. It was unlikely
her identity would have stayed secret forever. What was her next move? After thinking about her options, she
knew. Oh yes, she knew.

Ron and Harry appeared at the Apparition point just outside the Burrow’s protective wards. They trudged up the
path to the gate, finalising their strategy as to how they would broach the subject with Molly. Ron had already
begun to have second thoughts about visiting his batty old Great-aunt Muriel and told Harry as much.

”But we’ve already sent her the owl, Ron. She's expecting us this afternoon,” Harry argued.

”I know. It's just that Aunt Muriel... you know...” Ron sighed, knowing there was no escape.

Harry smiled. Aunt Muriel was indeed a very unpleasant person, but very sharp, and she knew a lot of things.
Things that might be useful in their investigation.

”Mum, it’s us! Ron and Harry,” Ron called.

”Come on in, dears! How are my...fine...Aurors this morning,” she asked brightly, hugging and kissing them
both. ”No need to shout.”

”We didn’t want to startle you, Molly,” Harry said in Ron’s defense. ”Ginny sends her love.”

”Of course she does. And don’t be silly,” she replied waving her hand at them. ”I was expecting you, after all.
I’m sorry you just missed Arthur. Tea?”

”Sure, Mum. Thanks,” Ron said, reaching for one of his mother’s famous breakfast biscuits. ”Are these...”
”Of course, dear. I baked just for you because you and Harry like them so much. I have some ready to take back
to school for Ginny and Hermione, too,” Molly said, nodding to a basket on the counter. ”And make sure they get
at least one, young man.”

Ron blushed. ”Mum! I wouldn’t...”

”Yes you would,” Harry chuckled. ”Unless I got to them first.” Harry snorted, reaching for his second biscuit as
Ron bit into his third.

”Harry James Potter, don’t you dare,” Molly admonished her surrogate son.

They shared a few laughs and some small talk over their tea at the scrubbed oak table. Harry looked around the

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unusually quiet kitchen in the jumbled house that had become a home to him. Most of the time Harry spent at
the Burrow, it was full of people and activity, but now it was just the three of them. He wished this scene had
been taking place under different circumstances.

”You needed to talk to me,” Molly said, breaking the moment of quiet serenity.

”Yes, it's actually Auror business,” Ron said.

”You know that Gawain Robards was killed and that we were there. It was not only an operation to arrest those
Death Eaters. It was an attempt to gain information. Those DEs—sorry, Death Eaters—have been interrogated
and they’ve given us enough information to identify their leader,” Harry said. He looked up at his surrogate
mother. ”Mafalda Prewett.”

Molly looked like someone had hit her. Harry and Ron winced and waited for the explosion.
”Molly, I understand you might not want to talk about this, but it's really important we learn everything we can
about her,” Harry explained, still trying to impress the necessity of learning what she knew about Mafalda.

Molly sighed. ”Her father is my second cousin, but he's a Squib,” she began. ”He hates everything about the
Wizarding world except the pure-blood families who followed... Voldemort. He actually believes he wouldn't be a
Squib if it weren't for blood-traitors like us, half-bloods like you, Harry, and Mudbloods like Hermione.”

”Yes, but he married a Muggle and they had Mafalda,” Ron said.

Molly nodded. ”I haven't met them many times because of his hatred for all of us, but I remember Mafalda
appearing to be a very gifted witch. You could probably get the record of her underage magic, but I think she
managed to find a way to lift the Trace since refusing to attend Hogwarts.”

”Lift the Trace? Can it be done,” Harry asked.

”She convinced her father to agree to let her marry. Arthur heard about this at the Ministry. She was registered
as married and that lifted the Trace. I would imagine she killed her husband immediately after the wedding
charm had been cast,” Molly told them in hushed tones.

”That's terrible,” Ron said. He thought about his impending marriage to Hermione and how he could never hurt
her, let alone kill her in cold blood. ”That’d be like...”

”Yes, but in the eyes of the law, she would have automatically come of age. Her views are identical to
Voldemort's and she if she met him, he might have accepted her. She is probably as gifted as Hermione, but evil
in every way,” Molly finished. Harry and Ron exchanged dubious looks. A mental girl in her teens as smart as
Hermione wasn’t exactly the enemy of their dreams.

Not even Molly's lunch could distract Ron about their impending visit with crazy Aunt Muriel that afternoon.
Molly noticed that Ron was eating less than usual. ”Are you ill, Ron dear?” She reached over and touched her
son’s forehead with the back of her hand.

”No, we're going to see Aunt Muriel after this,” he moped, playing with his fork.

”Oh. I see,” she said, patting her son’s hand sympathetically. ”Yes, she might know things I don't. Good luck,”
Molly said, both amused and empathetic. There wasn’t much she could say to allay her son’s fears. Aunt Muriel
was a formidable old woman and very difficult to get along with. Molly often found herself at odds with the
elderly witch, but had determined to let a lot of her blustering go and think of it as senility.

Sighing resignedly, Molly turned to Harry. ”The wedding plans are progressing, dear. We are starting to receive
answers from the invited guests. Kreacher has been most helpful in every way. He's really excited about his
master getting married. I think deep down he's proud of you, Harry, and Ginny coming from a pure-blood family
certainly does the trick too.”

Dear old Kreacher. Despite all the change in him, of course it mattered to him that Harry was marrying a
pure-blood and not a Muggleborn. But Harry knew that Kreacher would have accepted his wife no matter what
her blood status.

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Ron looked up at the old clock that told the time and where various members of the family happened to be.
”Harry, it’s time,” Ron said as though they were going to their executions. ”We’re due at the old...er...Aunt
Muriel’s at three. It’s quarter of now.”

”Oh yeah, right. Okay. Well, thanks Molly. Thanks for the information and tea and lunch,” Harry gushed.

”Oh not at all, dear. Anything to help the Auror Office, you know,” she said brightly patting his cheeks. ”Ron,
dear, don’t forget these biscuits for Hermione and your sister. Hermione and your sister, young man.” The stern
look on his mother’s face told him that those biscuits had better find their way to Ginny and Hermione as there
would be an owl checking on them.

”Yes, Mum. You heard her, Harry. Hands off,” he smirked. ”See you later, Mum.” Ron and Harry kissed their
mum goodbye and walked out the door.

At three o'clock, Ron knocked on Aunt Muriel's door. She opened it and looked at them. ”Ronald Weasley! And...
Harry Potter,” she said sharply, ushering them in. Harry thought at that moment that if Aunt Muriel had been
covered with feathers, she look like one of Molly’s fluttery old hens. ”It took you this long to come here and tell
me about your engagements in person?”

Both of them blushed scarlet. They hadn't told Aunt Muriel about the engagements. They’d assumed Molly would
have told her. She already had the invitation to Harry's and Ginny's wedding, which actually gave Harry a crazy
idea. That could be the segway to getting this rude grapevine hag to talk about Molly's Squib cousin and his mad
evil daughter.

”And Ronald, why did you let me believe you knocked up that Granger girl? You shouldn’t lie to an old woman,
young man” Muriel raved.

”But...I...you said...” Ron sputtered, obviously caught off-guard by his Great-aunt’s ranting. ”I never...”

”Balderdash! How could you let me believe that that sweet girl was a scarlet woman trying to trap my grand-
nephew into marriage,” she accused.

”But Aunt Muriel, I never said she was pregnant, you did,” Ron protested. ”I never said...”

Harry shook with silent mirth. He knew there was no way he could bail his friend out of this, but even if there
was, he wouldn’t. This was far too entertaining for one thing, and he wasn’t going to open himself up to the old
biddy’s abuse when he had come for the express purpose of extracting information from her.

”Apologise, young man,” the old woman demanded. ”I thought your mother taught you some manners!” Muriel’s
steely glare put the fear of Merlin into Ron, who looked as though he’d been kissed by a spider.

”But...I didn’t...oh bloody hell! I’m sorry to have mislead you, Aunt Muriel,” Ron said, defeated.

”That’s better, Ronald. You may kiss me,” she said sweetly as she leaned forward for Ron to kiss her cheek. He
looked sick, but obliged her. ”And mind your language.” Weasley, you’re going to have to brush your teeth and
wash your mouth out before you even look at Hermione.

Harry had to hold his breath to keep from bursting forth with laughter. Poor sod. When he was finally able to
compose himself, he addressed the old witch. ”As you already know I'm marrying Ginevra, and my best friend
Ronald told me there's no one that knows the Prewett and Weasley families better than you. I’m here in the
hopes of learning about the family I'm joining.”

Aunt Muriel looked at him suspiciously for a while. ”Trying to flatter me, eh? Well, it just might work. Come on
into the parlor.” Harry and Ron followed the old woman as she waddled down a dim hallway and turned left into
a room decorated in the old Victorian style. The windows were decorated with dark fringed curtains with braided
satin ties. The mahogany furniture with burgundy velvet upholstery, and bead-draped gas fixtures hanging from
heavily-papered walls gave the room an air of obsolescence. The air felt dry and a little dusty, causing both
young men to pull at their collars and rub their eyes.

”Sit down, boys. Sit down,” she barked, gesturing to a couple of fancy, but ugly chairs. ”Now, then,” she said
adjusting her ample bum onto a settee. ”You want to know about Ginevra’s ancestors, is that right?” Aunt Muriel

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talked about the Prewetts and the Weasleys for an hour straight. Harry wondered when or if she needed to
breathe, or if there was a charm doing it for her. She was at least more boring than rude. Harry listened for an
opportunity to ask an innocent question about Mafalda. Finally, Aunt Muriel got to her nieces and nephews. One
of them should be Mafalda's father.

”How many nephews do you have,” Harry asked, pretending to be completely enthralled.

Aunt Muriel looked at him and huffed. ”Technically, six.”

”Technically?”

”I only count five of them,” she said, jerking her numerous chins.

Harry thought he was getting closer. ”What happened to the sixth?”

”Oh, that's the family Squib,” Aunt Muriel spat as if she was referring to the family dog. It was plain that Muriel
Prewett held her own unsavory prejudices in the magical world.

Harry thought carefully about the next question. ”That must be the one Molly is too ashamed to talk about,”
Harry said to Ron, who nodded.

”Too ashamed? Well she should be! He's a disgrace, let me tell you that, Potter,” she said, happy to enlighten
Harry with family gossip. ”That idiot Squib married a Muggle—a Muggle—and produced a witch daughter, and
then had the gall to tell us we were impure! How else would he be a Squib, he asked! Have you ever heard a
bigger load of rubbish, Potter? We, the Prewetts, impure? Not jolly likely! He’s a Squib because he’s a Squib, for
goodness’ sake! He left the family with his Muggle wife and that brat of theirs! Nobody forced him!”

Harry looked at Ron who was listening, for the first time, with great interest. Barmy and prejudiced. Wonderful.
”They left to live in some ruddy place called Little Hangleton,” Muriel added with a huff of indignation.

Harry almost fell off his chair at this revelation. Clearly Aunt Muriel had no idea what she just had revealed.
Mafalda had grown up in the home town of Tom Riddle's family. During Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts,
Wormtail and Voldemort had lived there. Most certainly Voldemort, or possibly Nagini, would have discovered
the talented Mafalda and learned about her views concerning blood status.

Following his return, he probably recruited her into his ranks as soon as he could get his slimy hands on her.
After all, Bellatrix was still in Azkaban at that time, and maybe the newly-returned Voldemort thought he
needed a back-up apprentice. But because she was so young, he opted to keep her a closely-guarded secret.
Mafalda had been waiting for news somewhere when she learned about Voldemort's death. Harry guessed his
death had been for her what Professor Dumbledore's death had been for him. He was guessing, of course, but it
made sense. Harry wanted to talk to Professor Dumbledore's portrait as soon as he returned to the school, but
first, he had to listen to another hour of lecture about the Prewetts.

”Young man! I say, Potter! Are you quite well,” Muriel demanded, shaking him from his thoughts. ”Is there a
history of madness in your family?”

”Er...no, Aunt Muriel. I was just...” Harry stammered.


”Well, I should certainly hope not. You had a tell-tale vacancy about you just now. I don’t want our Ginevra
marrying a potential lunatic,” Muriel blustered on.

”Oh. No, ma’am,” Harry said, squaring his shoulders. ”I was just thinking about what you’d said about your
Squib nephew, that’s all.” She actually thinks I’m a nutter. Takes one to know one.

”And think you should, Potter. You don’t want to go mucking about with his kind, let me tell you,” she said
pointedly. ’Him and that good-for-nothing Argus Filch up at that ruddy school of Dumbledore’s.” Now Ron was
trying to hide his laughter.

Finally it was over and they looked at Aunt Muriel. ”Will Ginny and I see you at our wedding,” Harry asked.

”Of course you will, and Ginevra is wearing my tiara,” she said proudly, gesturing toward a velvet box on the
mantle.

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Harry sighed silently. He guessed there was no point arguing about it. At least not today. Meeting with Aunt
Muriel this day had been utterly boring, except for the revelation about Mafalda growing up in Little Hangleton.
At least Aunt Muriel hadn't been rude today, much, even if she had all but called him a nutter and his best
friend a liar.

”I'll tell Molly,” Harry promised dubiously.

”Good boy. I like men who have the balls to decide such things without consulting their women. That's the
problem with Arthur. He depends too much on Molly's opinion,” she said with a pert nod.

Ron was tempted to ask how Aunt Muriel might tolerate a man with the desired balls, but decided against it. A
few minutes later, they had managed to say goodbye and escape before the old biddy launched into a diatribe
about Ron’s and Ginny’s parents.

Ron looked at Harry with a smirk. ”So Harry, you decided that Ginny’ll wear her damned tiara. I would like to
see when you tell Ginny about that. I’m willing to be she Bat-Bogeys you,” Ron said, looking his friend straight
in the eyes.

”Why would she do that? Doesn’t she want to wear it? Don’t all the women in and joining this family want to
wear it? Fleur did,” Harry reasoned.

”No, Harry. She hates the bloody thing. You’re in for a row, mate,” Ron assured him with a smirk.

Harry knew that if what Ron told him was true, he was indeed in for a row with Ginny. He sighed and rubbed his
eyes behind his glasses. ”Ginny probably already knows Aunt Muriel expects her to wear it. I’ll bet she sighs and
agrees to wear it.”

”All right, you’re on, mate. The loser takes the next first-year Defence against the Dark Arts class for the
winner.”

”You’re on, mate,” Harry said. I’m not worried about losing to Ron. It’s those Bat-Bogeys I’m worried about.

Ron got a more serious look in his face. ”Little Hangleton! Of all places, they had to move there?”

”Yes, and that could be really bad. Instead of Hogwarts, she no doubt had Tom Riddle as her teacher, and we
know he wanted to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts at one time. A talented evil witch like
Mafalda might have been exactly what he was looking for,” Harry said gloomily.

As soon as Ron and Harry left, Muriel sat down at her writing desk and began a letter to her niece about her
youngest son. When she finished, she rolled up the parchment and called for her owl to deliver the letter to
Molly posthaste.

”Honestly. I thought that girl knew what she was doing with all those children. Long hair, dragons, pomposity,
explosions, no manners, and precociousness! Disappointing, the lot of them. Must be that fool Weasley blood,”
she muttered as she set to preparing her evening meal.

Molly had set to preparing supper for Arthur and George and Angelina when Aunt Muriel’s owl appeared at the
window. She let the bird in. ”Ave, Caesar,” she laughed. He held out his leg for her to remove his burden before
he settled on Errol’s perch for a snack and a drink of water. As soon as he was satisfied, Caesar took flight and
disappeared through the window.

”I wonder what she’s on about now. Probably Ronnie, since he and Harry had been there today,” she thought out
loud. Molly sat down at the table to read the letter.
Molly,
Ronald is out of control. Do you know that that boy led me to believe he had made that Granger girl pregnant? I
had been expecting a baby announcement instead of an engagement announcement from him. Of course, I made
him apologise, but you and Arthur need to sit him down and remind him to respect his elders before he corrupts
young Potter. And for Merlin’s sake, teach that woman of his to charm his clothes properly. He’s a disgrace!
I hope this has found you and Arthur well,
Aunt Muriel

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”Bloody hell,” she shrieked.

Just then, her husband appeared at the door. ”What is it, Molly? Is something wrong with one of the children?
Has the baby come early? Has Charlie been eaten? Has Percy eloped? Has George finally blown himself up,”
Arthur asked in a half-panic. He never worried about Ron or Ginny anymore. Hermione and Harry looked after
them.

”Just look at this,” Molly demanded, thrusting the letter at him. ”Muriel seems to think Ron got Hermione
pregnant or some such nonsense!”

Arthur started and then broke into fits of laughter. He removed his reading glasses without even looking at
Muriel’s note. Tears streamed down his face as he howled and waved the parchment.

”Arthur, what on earth are you laughing at? You haven’t even read her note and you’re hysterical,” Molly
huffed, her hands on her hips. ”What’s gotten into you!”

”Molly, dear. Sit down and I’ll try to explain,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her into the seat next to him.
”This is all a big misunderstanding. It started at the funeral.” Arthur explained about rescuing Harry and Ginny
from Aunt Muriel during the wake following Fred’s funeral. ”So you see, Molly, it was Muriel who accused Ron.
Ron never said...”

”Do you mean to tell me, Arthur Weasley, that you sicced that mad cow on Ronnie and that sweet girl and let
her belittle them like that,” Molly demanded. ”Poor Hermione! Ron must’ve been mortified!”

”I’m sorry, Mollywobbles,” Arthur pleaded, ”but she was terrorising Harry and Ginny and I had to do something!
I knew she’d take the mickey out of Ron, but I never dreamed she’d go that far.”

”And I suppose you thought it was great fun, didn’t you,” she said, as tears began to fall. ”You allowed that old
bat to embarrass Ronnie in front of his best friend and girl!”

”I told you, Molly,” he said become a bit annoyed now. ”As soon as it went that far, I steered her off to
embar...talk to Charlie about his dragons!” Arthur had steeled himself for a full-out row with his wife. It didn’t
happen often, but when it did, it was loud and sometimes messy. He decided to make one last-ditch effort for
peace. ”Come now, Molly. Don’t get your knickers in such a twist. There’s no need to cry, my beauty,” Arthur
soothed her, taking her in his arms.

”Oh Arthur,” she sniffled into his robes. ”Aunt Muriel is going to be the very death of us all! I don’t know how
much more of her blustering and rudeness I can take.” Molly began to sob in earnest. She sobbed for her
husband and for her youngest son. Ron was her pride and joy and the thought of that barmy old battle axe
hurting him or embarrassing him needlessly drove her to distraction. ”I think I’m going to have to write her a
letter of my own,” she said determinedly. ”This is going to stop right here and right now!”

”You do that, Mols. You have my unyielding support,” Arthur said, mentally wiping his brow. That was close.
Dear Aunt Muriel,
I received your note this evening concerning my Ron and Hermione. HOW DARE YOU???? Ronnie is a good boy
and a dutiful son.
You know very well that Ronnie didn’t lead you to believe she was pregnant. That was your idea of a very sick
joke at his expense. You humiliated him in front of his best friend, his sister, his father, and his future wife! If
anyone owes anybody an apology, it’s you who owes one to Ronnie. And this escapade this afternoon, again in
front of his best friend and now professional partner is unacceptable.
Aunt Muriel, I love you very much, but this disruptive and downright malicious behaviour of yours is going to stop
right now! Don’t you ever humiliate or attempt to humiliate me or mine in public ever again, and that goes for
Fleur, Angelina, Hermione, Harry, and any other significant other my children might bring home.
As for Ron’s appearance, there is no charm on this planet that will keep his clothes proper—at least proper
enough for you. It’s just who he is and if Hermione loves him for it, we can love him for it too. As for Charlie’s
profession, that’s his business. If he wants to chase Dragons, we will support him in it.

Furthermore, the subject of the length Bill’s hair now and forever shall be closed! Did you notice Harry’s? If you
have a problem with it, I dare you to take it up with Ginny. As for George...he is a very successful businessman
and that is fine with us. You ought to be well-pleased with Percy. He’s just like YOU—pompous, overbearing, and

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perfectly tactless, but we love him anyway.


Lastly, Arthur is a good husband and father. His children, including Harry and Hermione, love him dearly and
value his opinion and counsel. I adore him now more than ever and all of your threats of disowning and
disinheiriting won’t change it. The Arthur Weasley family is strong and will continue on long after the Prewetts die
out.
I hope this finds you well,
Molly

”Errol,” Molly called. ”Errol! Where are you?”

A flapping of wings descended the stairs as faithful old Errol skidded to a landing on the table.

”Oh there you are, you dear sweet bird,” Molly cooed as she stroked his feathers. ”Could you take this to Aunt
Muriel for me?”

Errol hooted and blinked his round eyes in assent.

”Now there’s no big hurry, so take your time. Stop to rest if you get tired, all right? Good. Now, off you go,” she
said as she opened the window so he could fly out. ”Poor old fellow. We really need to retire him.”

Harry and Ron returned to Hogwarts, but, as Ron pointed out, it was another hour before supper. He and Harry
decided to settle their bet on a full stomach and retired to their classroom to get in a little one-on-one duelling
practice until it was time to meet the girls for the evening meal.

”Still got the biscuits,” Harry asked Ron with a smile.

”Right here, completely unmolested,” he replied, holding up the basket.

”Good. You know your mum’ll be checking with Ginny to make sure they got them,” Harry said. ”You wouldn’t
want another one of Molly Weasley’s howlers...”

”Sod off, Potter,” Ron snickered. ”I may be a bit slow, but I’m not stupid!”
”Oh yeah, you’re slow. You only planned that whole operation almost single-handedly,” Harry said, putting off
his friend’s self-deprecation. ”You’re a brilliant tactician. We couldn’t have done that without you.”

”Yeah well, I have my moments, I guess,” Ron said. ”You’re the real...”

”Ron, I don’t want to hear any more of that,” Harry snapped. ”I didn’t request you for a partner for nothing, you
know.”

”Partner? I’m your partner,” Ron said, his blue eyes brightening. ”Honestly?”

”Well who else would you expect, mate? We’ve been through bloody hell together. I wouldn’t trust anybody
else,” Harry almost shouted. ”You’re my best friend and my brother!”

”Blimey, Harry! I had no idea. I don’t know what to say,” Ron replied, trying to hold back the tears stinging his
eyes. ”This is brilliant!”

”I wouldn’t have anyone else. Dawlish and Kingsley already knew that,” Harry admitted. ”That’s why we were
assigned to attend the meeting together yesterday and why we were sent on this fact-finding tour today.”

”Bloody hell,” was all Ron could say. He had never been chosen above any other for anything in his life, save
Hermione. Of course, he knew that he was Harry’s best mate, but to be chosen professionally was something
truly monumental. It was then that Ron realised how much he truly loved his sister’s soon-to-be husband—how
much of a brother Harry truly was.

Later that evening, Harry and Ron were relaxing with Ginny and Hermione. Ginny had been in a foul mood
today. She dropped a heaping spoonful of dried slug phlegm into her cauldron while she had been brewing a
protective paste to be used on gloves for Herbology. If brewed properly, it would protect the gloves against
caustic substances such as Bubotuber Pus, preventing burns and other nasty injuries to the hands. It was
probably when Harry learned about Mafalda growing up in Little Hangleton that she had felt him, resulting in the

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mistake.

The result was immediate and devastating. Green smoke from her botched potion soon covered the dungeon in a
fog that smelled like rotten meat, resulting in a full-scale evacuation of the dungeons.

The potion in her cauldron had solidified harder than stone, and her attempts to crumble it to clean her cauldron
had ended with a shattered cauldron.

Ron looked smugly at Harry, confident he had won the bet. Ginny was certainly in a mood to Bat-Bogey
someone. ”So, that was my day. How was yours,” she asked sulkily.

Ron took the chance to get her even more annoyed. ”Well, Harry and I had to withstand one of Mum's
home-cooked lunches. As you can imagine, it was delicious. And after that, we had to see Aunt Muriel. Harry has
some very happy news for you.”

Harry looked at Ron, clearly aware of Ron's attempt to increase his chances to win the bet. ”Well, first of all,
Gin, your mum sent this basket of her famous tea biscuits for you and Hermione to share. I made sure
Ronnikins stayed out of them.”

”Oh wow,” Ginny cried, reaching greedily for the basket. ”These are the best! Oh thank you, Harry! Thank you!”
She leaned up and kissed Harry full on the mouth. ”Hermione, you’ve got to try these. They’re wonderful. You’re
going to love them,” she gushed as she passed the basket to Hermione.

Ginny had one in each hand and was munching away happily as Harry looked up at Ron and mouthed, Gotcha!
Then for good measure, he conjured a tea service so Ginny and Hermione could have some tea to go with their
biscuits. ”Oh you’re so thoughtful, love,” Ginny cooed as she poured out and handed a cup to Hermione.

Harry knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet and he certainly hadn’t won the bet. He cleared his throat and
plunged in head first. Time to get it over with, Potter. ”Ginny, love,” he began.

”Yes, Harry,” she replied, her mouth covered in crumbs. She’s so beautiful. ”Er...um...dear old Muriel has
honoured you by letting you borrow her goblin-made tiara for the wedding.” Ginny’s eyes darkened to almost
black and narrowed as she wiped the crumbs away from her lips. ”And I... sort of...you know Aunt
Muriel...agreed that you would wear it.” He steeled himself for the onslaught of Bat-Bogeys.

”I would rather feed that damned thing to your Hungarian Horntail, Harry, than have it on my head,” Ginny
stated emphatically. Ron had a look of triumph on his face that soon faded as his sister continued. ”But...” Ginny
sighed, ”I expected she'd force me...or Mum would. No worries Harry...but it’s going to have to be cleaned.”

Ron moaned, knowing he'd lost and had to teach an extra lesson. He thought sure Ginny was going to hex her
fiancé.

”What,” Hermione asked.

”I bet Harry that Ginny would Bat-Bogey him for agreeing with Aunt Muriel that Ginny would wear the tiara,”
Ron admitted.

”You... prat,” Ginny spat at Ron.

”But... Harry was on, he made a counter-bet...” Ron protested.

Ginny's eyes flashed as they nailed Harry to the armchair he was sitting in. ”I... I told Ron I thought you'd sigh,”
Harry said in a full-scale panic.

Ginny pulled her wand and cast a charm at Ron. Moments later bats were orbiting his face attacking him. ”You
wanted to see the Bat-Bogey hex, you can have a taste of it yourself,” Ginny told her brother and turned to
Hermione and Harry. ”Don't either of you even think of helping him to counter it. He can figure that out for
himself!”

They nodded and one look at Ron was enough to discourage them from helping him. Harry felt really bad
because it was just a friendly bet. He truly believed Ginny overreacted, but that it was probably due to her bad

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day in Potions. He had to admit that that might have been his fault for sending that jolt to her through their
bond, even from that distance.

The discussion slowly shifted to what they had learned about Mafalda, interrupted by Ron's various attempts to
break the curse. Both Ginny and Hermione giggled at his failed attempts. ”This blasted curse, nothing counters
it.” Ron grunted.

”You had it coming,” Hermione said with a grin. I’m sorry, my love. If you don’t figure it out by bedtime, I’ll
un-hex you.

Harry told Ginny and Hermione everything they’d learned from Molly and Muriel about Mafalda and her father,
including the part about them having moved to Little Hangleton after they left the family for good. They pieced
that information together with what Emma and Erica had told Harry the day before and drew their conclusions.

”From what we learned about Tom Riddle and what we know about Mafalda, I think it's very likely she might
have been his replacement apprentice for Bellatrix. Between a half-blood like him, and she hating the Wizarding
world, her father keeping her out of Hogwarts to distance her from Professor Dumbledore, and sharing the ideas
about blood purity, it’s a lead-pipe cinch,” Hermione said, nodding.

”She's supposedly as brilliant as she is evil too,” Harry added.

The four of them were very concerned. No one actually said it, but they knew this conflict had come in parallel
to Harry's and Ginny's wedding plans. Ron and Hermione were only waiting until after that wedding before
setting a date for their own.

”Finally,” Ron barked when he finally managed to banish the Bat-Bogeys.

”So, you did it,” Hermione said proudly. ”I knew you could.”

”Yes, but there's only one problem,” Ron replied with a painful look. ”I cast like five different charms at the same
time, and I have no idea which one countered it.”

The four of them laughed at Ron’s new predicament. ”If you want, I can curse you again and let you find out,”
Ginny offered.

”Thanks, but no thanks,” Ron answered with a sneer.

”And Harry, there was another letter from Andromeda,” Ginny told him and handed it to him. Andromeda Tonks
had been writing Harry and Ginny on a regular basis telling them all the news about little Teddy. In a little over
a month, he have his first birthday. Harry and Ginny were invited to his birthday party, since they were his legal
guardians as Godparents after all. Harry felt bad about not being able to see Teddy more often, but Andromeda
had told him that she understood he had to finish his studies.

”Shall I owl her that we’ll be there,” Ginny asked with raised eyebrows.

”Of course. I wouldn’t miss Teddy’s birthday for the world,” Harry replied with a grin. And I know just what to
get the little tyke too.
”Well, it’s been fun, you lot, but I’m knackered,” Ron announced, yawning and stretching his long arms over his
head. If he were standing, he could just about reach the ceiling. ”You about ready, love?” He finished his stretch
and rubbed Hermione’s back.

”I’ve been ready. I’m about to fall asleep right here at this table,” she admitted as she rose. ”Good night, you
two. See you in the mor...mor...morning.” She yawned and leaned over onto Ron. ”Thanks for the tea and
biscuits.”

”Good night,” Harry and Ginny said. They exchanged hugs. ”And thank Molly. She sent them,” Harry said, giving
Hermione a brotherly kiss on the cheek.

After Ron and Hermione left, Harry and Ginny undressed and climbed into bed for a goodnight snog before they
drifted off to sleep. ”I love you, Harry,” Ginny yawned, sending a wave of the unspoken thing through their
bond.

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”Love you too, Gin,” Harry replied, returning her wave. They fell asleep almost immediately.

John Dawlish surveyed the group of eight people, all teenagers who appeared to be just like any other their age.
But this group wasn’t like any other; they were the new elite force of specially-trained Aurors dedicated to
fighting the dark arts. ”DA, as you know, I’ve been appointed the new Head of the Auror Office. Because of the
recent events and your development and skill, it's time for you to take the parts of the Auror exam you failed
last September. If you pass, you will be fully-fledged licenced Aurors. You will continue training and living here
at Hogwarts, at least until school ends in June. If any one of you fails your test, you will simply continue your
work and training until you do. Those of you who pass will join the Auror Office and help us defeat and bring in
Mafalda Prewett. Any questions so far?”

They all shook their heads, so Dawlish continued. ”We will be merging Dumbledore's Army and the Auror Office.
Once Harry passes his exam, he will become Assistant Head of the Auror Office. It seems reasonable that the
leader of Dumbledore's Army also takes a leadership position at the Auror Office.”

The DA enthusiastically welcomed this arrangement. They were used to following Harry's lead, so they felt
comfortable knowing that, once part of the Auror Office, Harry would still be a leader. Soon all the members,
except Ron, were sitting their written exams on the Auror Field Manual and Ministry Organisation. Ron was off
to perform his practical Auror test at the Ministry first. After lunch, Ron had returned to Hogwarts to sit his
written exam, while those who had failed parts of the test at the Ministry had took those tests again.

Harry was waiting for Ron outside the classroom. Ron looked surprisingly calm, considering he’d just sat a
demanding written exam. Ron had always been apprehensive about written exams, but Hermione had studied
hard with him. She would probably pass the test, if she'd taken it. Late in the afternoon, Dawlish gathered the
DA again, this time in the company of Professor McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

”We have your results,” Kingsley declared. ”Susan Bones, come forward, please.” Susan blushed and stepped
forward to face the Minister. ”You passed your exam with grade E,” Kingsley declared.

Dawlish handed her a parchment with her grade and Auror licence. ”Congratulations, Auror Bones,” he said and
shook her hand.

”Terry Boot, come forward, please.” Terry stepped forward. ”You have passed your exam with grade A,” Kingsley
declared. Dawlish handed him a parchment with his grade and Auror licence. ”Congratulations, Auror Boot,” he
said and shook his hand.

Lavender, Cho, Seamus, and Anthony also passed and received their licences. Cho had earned an O and looked
very surprised. Harry wasn't. Cho had developed more than anyone else.

”Harry Potter, come forward, please,” Kingsley boomed. Harry approached him. ”You passed with grade O,”
Kingsley declared with a wide grin. Harry sent a wave of pure euphoria through the bond to Ginny, letting her
know he had passed with flying colors. Dawlish gave him a parchment with his grade and Auror licence.
”Congratulations, Assistant Head Auror Potter,” he said, shaking his hand. Harry’s dream of becoming an Auror
had come true, and with top marks to boot.

Finally it was Ron's turn. He felt a bit nervous. Despite Hermione's help, he wasn't sure if he had passed the
written exam all the others had. He did feel confident he'd passed the test at the Ministry, though, thinking it
had been rather easy, all told.

”Ronald Weasley, you have achieved something truly amazing, something never before done in any Auror class
in recent history. You pass with grade A, having successfully completed the course in less time than any of your
comrades or predecessors. Congratulations to you, Auror Weasley.” Dawlish handed him his grade and licence
and shook his hand.”Congratulations, Aurors. Well done!” Kingsley, Dawlish, and Professor McGonagall beamed
and applauded the new Aurors and soon, they joined in applauding one another.

Ron was stunned. He, Ronald Bilius Weasley, youngest of the Weasley brothers, had made history. He had a
beautiful fiancé, a good job, the best partner any Auror could ever have, and now a place in Ministry history. It’s
all down to Hermione. I’m going to do something special for her.

Minerva McGonagall was so very proud of her students, and surprised them all with hugs. ”It's almost time for

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supper, my Aurors,” she told them. ”And the Minister has kindly offered to present you to the rest of the school.
Congratulations, everyone!” She left them to their own celebration, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
These eight, especially Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, had been among her and Albus’ favorite students, and
now they were grown men and women with bright futures ahead of them. We’ve done it, Albus. We got them
through.

”Party time,” Harry shouted. ”Kreacher!”


Crack! ”Mas—Harry has called Kreacher?”

”Yes, Kreacher. Congratulate us, old man! We all passed! We’re officially Aurors,” Harry told him.

Kreacher bowed to the DA Aurors. ”Congratulations, sirs and misses,” he croaked. ”Kreacher is wishing you all
his best.”
”Kreacher, I was wondering if...” Harry began.

”Say no more, Harry. Kreacher is knowing what his Mas—friend desires,” the old House-elf said with a sly grin.
”I shall return.” He bowed low again and disappeared with a crack.

”I think I’ve become entirely too dependent on him,” Harry confessed to his team.

A few minutes later, Kreacher reappeared. He snapped his bony fingers and a long table, laden with bottles of
Butterbeer and all manner of snacks appeared on one side of the room. ”Congratulations again, sirs and misses.
Mas—Harry if you are needing anything else, you need only call for Kreacher. He will come.” He bowed again.

”Thank you, Kreacher,” the DA said to the old elf. ”Thanks, Harry!” Kreacher bowed low again and then
disappeared with a crack once more.

”You have quite a way with house-elves, Harry,” Lavender said, helping herself to a Butterbeer. ”How do you get
them to do anything you want?”

”It’s not hard, really. If you don't take advantage of their need to serve, but treat them fairly, they’re very loyal
friends,” Harry told her. ”If you get a chance sometime, nick down to the kitchens. You’ll find a painting of a
bowl of fruit down there. Just tickle the pear and...”

”Yeah, I remember the first time Harry, Hermione, and I sneaked down there. Fred and George had told us what
to do,” Ron added.

”You mean all the food for those sudden Gryffindor parties...” Seamus began.

”Fred and George, mate,” Ron confirmed Seamus’ suspicions. ”They knew how to get to the kitchens to nick
food. They did it all the time.”

”Brilliant,” Seamus chuckled. ”Bloody brilliant!”

”It is, really. I can’t quite remember why it was we went down there, but when we got there, there were about a
hundred of them, bowing and offering us anything we wanted. They even packed a load of food up and sent it
with us,” Ron told them.

”Snuffles,” Harry said under his breath. ”We needed to bring something for Snuffles, remember?”

”Oh yeah. Snuffles. Good old Snuffles,” Ron said quietly.

”You’re joking, right” Terry asked. ”They’ll really feed us any time?”

”They will,” Harry said. ”Ron and I have been down there loads of times since our fourth year.”

”I say we raid the kitchens tonight as a kind of extra celebration, now that we know how to do it,” Anthony said
with a mischievous glint in his eye. ”Who’s in? Potter? Weasley? Finnegan?”

”Ah...not us,” Ron replied. ”We have women who have probably planned something ahead of time.”

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”Aye, and I’ll wager it doesn’t involve food,” Seamus snickered. ”Or does it?”

”You’ll never know, Irish,” Harry laughed. ”But feel free. You won’t have to worry about Filch because you’re
basically teachers. He can’t do anything to you.”

”I’m in,” said Susan.

”Me too,” said Lavender.

”Count me in,” added Seamus.

”And me,” chimed Terry. ”Cho? How about you?”

”No, thanks. I promised my parents I’d celebrate with them. They’re very proud of me...of all of us,” she said
with a slight smile. ”Maybe another time, yeah?”

”Blimey! With you lot going down there at one time, the house-elves will be in seventh heaven. They might
roast you a hippogriff if you’re that peckish,” Ron laughed.

Harry tapped his wand on his bottle. ”DA! Attention for a minute?” They all gathered around their friend and
leader. ”Um...when we started this organisation over two years ago, we started it to learn to defend ourselves in
the face of some pretty long odds. We promised to defend one another and anyone else in trouble. Never, in my
wildest dreams, did I imagine we’d come to this. That we’d progress from a bunch of rag-tag students to a team
of elite Aurors. I’m so damned proud of all of you—all of us and I’m greatly honoured to have each of you on my
team. To the DA! Slaínte!”

They all raise their bottles and repeated the toast in chorus. ”And now, I’d like to take some time out to
remember two of our number who fell last spring in the final battle. I know this has been done dozens of times,
but not by us—just us. Last year, we lost Colin Creevey and Fred Weasley. I’d like us all to drink to their
memories as well. To Colin and Fred, wherever you are—good on you, mates! Slaínte!”

The DA again repeated the toast. All of a sudden, Ron’s voice barked from the back of the room. ”DA! Salute!”
Instinctively, they all snapped to attention, drew their wands, and as one, saluted the memory of their fallen
comrades and friends as though preparing to duel. ”Thanks, you lot. Ever since Neville gave that order at the
memorial service, I’ve wanted to,” Ron said a little embarrassed.

”Not at all, mate,” Seamus said with a few unshed tears burning his eyes. ”It was the right thing to do for Colin
and Fred.”

The newly-licenced Aurors continued their little celebration until Professor McGonagall and the Minister
reappeared to call them to supper. The Great Hall fell dead silent as the Minister for Magic, flanked by the
Headmistress and the Head of the Auror Office led the DA to the front of the room. Harry winked at Ginny, who,
through their bond already understood what had happened. Hermione gazed dreamily at Ron, who gave her his
signature lopsided grin and mouthed thank you, love to her.

Kingsley faced the students. ”I have the great pleasure and honour to present our community's eight newest
Aurors. Susan Bones, Terry Boot, Lavender Brown, Cho Chang, Seamus Finnegan, Anthony Goldstein, Harry
Potter, and Ronald Weasley!”

The Hall exploded in cheers and wild applause. Kingsley allowed them a few moments and then held up both
hands so as to silence the students.

”As you all know, we arrested three Death Eaters recently. I can tell you all that based on their performance in
that operation last Friday, these eight joining the Auror Office will surely help bring in the last few Death Eaters
at large in very short order. Please join me in a round of applause for this very outstanding new class of
Aurors!”

The great ceiling shook with the cheers and applause of everyone in the Great Hall. Hagrid’s tears flowed like
rivers as he beamed with pride at his four Gryffindors in the group. Ginny and Hermione hugged one another
and the Munchkins as they jumped up and down, screaming with glee. Both young women had plans for their

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men tonight.

After supper, Harry asked to speak with Kingsley and Chief Dawlish. He kissed Ginny soundly and promised he
would join her soon. Ron decided he would tag along, kissing Hermione and sending her on with Ginny. The four
of them found an empty classroom and Kingsley looked questioningly at Harry. ”What’s on your mind, Harry?”

”I have this nagging thought I can't get out of my head,” Harry said. ”There's something that’s not right. I don't
think Mafalda wants to take over the Ministry.” Ron nodded his agreement with Harry.

”Despite killing Chief Robards,” Kingsley asked, taken aback.

”I know how that looks, but the killing curse that hit him was meant for me. Malfoy might be a spy, and I'm
certain there are spies at the Ministry, but the Ministry stands for everything she hates. Ron and I have talked
about this and we think it would make much more sense if she simply wanted it destroyed.” Ron again nodded in
agreement. He allowed Harry to relate to them what they had learned about Mafalda from Molly Weasley and
Muriel Prewett.

”I agree with you, Harry, but we can't dismiss the fact that she might consider it necessary to take over the
Ministry in order to use its power to create the world she wants.” Harry and Ron shrugged doubtfully. That idea
makes sense too.

”Yes, I think so too. I have confirmed her mother was killed. Her father is alive, but I don't know where,”
Dawlish reported.

”Could you check and find out if she's been married? We think she got married in order to have the Trace lifted.
And look for her underage magic report too,” Harry said.

”That's a brilliant idea,” Dawlish said. ”I'll look into it.”

Kingsley put his hand on Harry's shoulder. ”I'm really happy to finally have you officially in the Auror Office,
Harry.” He extended his hand to Ron and said, ”You too, Ron.”

”Thank you Kingsley,” Harry said. He noticed Dawlish's surprised look that Harry was on a first name basis with
the Minister. Of course, Chief Dawlish had no way of knowing about Harry’s or Ron’s personal relationship with
the Minister. He hardly knew either one of them.

”If you'll excuse me, I have to write a statement. I'm afraid you'll be on the front page tomorrow, Harry,”
Kingsley said apologetically.

Harry sighed. ”I guess so. Please try to see that all of the DA receive credit,” Harry said pleadingly, thinking
about his best friend and partner.

”You know I will, but I think the Prophet will make the most of your appointment as Assistant Head.” With that
Kingsley and Dawlish bid them goodnight and left Hogwarts.

Harry and Ron made for Harry's and Ginny's room. Upon their arrival, they were overwhelmed by Ginny’s and
Hermione’s joint attacks on their bodies. ”You made it,” Ginny yelled, throwing herself at Harry. ”Assistant Head
of the Auror Office! By Merlin!” She planted a very passionate kiss on his mouth, intimating in his ear as to what
would come later. He wrapped his arms around her and returned her kiss, deepening it unashamedly.

”Ron, I'm so proud of you,” Hermione cried as she reached up to kiss him. ”In so little time, you did it!” Ron
picked her up off the floor to make it easier for her to reach and more comfortable for her to snog and be
snogged. ”I have a surprise for you tonight, my ginger god,” she whispered in his ear, his scent of spice and
chocolate mingling with her lavender and vanilla. He hugged her tighter and kissed her neck in response.

Following a spontaneous celebration, with refreshments provided by a very proud Kreacher, Harry told them
about his talk with Dawlish and Kingsley. Ron agreed, and after thinking it through, Hermione did too. From
what they knew about Mafalda, it made sense if she indeed wanted to destroy the Ministry of Magic.

Ginny furrowed her brow in concern. ”But if she's as smart as they say, why would she be stupid enough to
attack the Ministry?”

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Even Hermione was surprised. She hadn't thought about that, but Ginny's remark made a lot of sense too. It
was an awful lot of trouble to go to just to attack and destroy the Ministry of Magic. Mafalda also knew that
Harry, along with the entire DA, would aid the Ministry and very likely take her and her people down.

”So, if she wants to destroy the Ministry, and our community, but in a smarter way than attacking the Ministry,
what is her plan,” Ron asked.

They all turned to Hermione. ”What are you all looking at me for,” she asked.

”Come on, don't be so modest. You are the brightest witch alive. If you wanted to destroy the Ministry in the
most simple way, what would you do,” Harry asked.

“I don't know. Maybe cause mayhem among the Muggles by leaving cursed objects all over the country for them
to find, therefore flooding the Ministry with emergencies and burying it in its own paperwork,” Hermione
suggested with a little trepidation. They sat in thoughtful silence. Yes, it would be a much safer way, but it didn't
seem efficient enough. ”I'm not much of a Death Eater,” Hermione said excusing herself. ”I can't think like
them.

”Well, we’d better keep our eyes open anyway,” Harry said.

The evening ended with Harry and Ron writing Molly and Arthur a letter with the news of their exams, while
Ginny wrote a letter to Andromeda accepting her invitation to Teddy's birthday party. She finished first and Ron
and Hermione left for their room. Harry got up from the desk and turned around to tell Ginny he was going to
take the letters to the owlery. But the inviting sight before him caused him to drop the letters and gape. Ginny
lay on her belly on the bed wearing... well Harry didn't know what it was called, but he did know what it made
him feel. Ginny invited him to bed.

”I think you earned some private commendations, love,” she cooed.

Harry was speechless as he moved over to the bed and allowed himself to melt into Ginny's embrace, filled with
her love and intoxicated by her wonderful, flowery scent. Her fervent kiss sent shockwaves through his body and
into her. ”Gin, you are so wonderful,” he moaned as she began to undress him.

The flimsy garment Ginny wore came off easily. All Harry had to do was untie a couple of laces and it fell away,
revealing her perfect form. For a moment he stared transfixed at the beauty in his hands and silently
worshipped her. ”Merlin, Gin, but you are beautiful,” he whispered reverently as he caressed her shoulders and
arms. ”It amazes me that a woman as breathtakingly magnificent as you could love a brooding git like me. I
can’t tell you how grateful I am.” His voice broke a little as he adored her.

”Harry, my Harry,” she answered with equal reverence. ” The moments we share in one another’s arms are so
precious to me. You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen and I can’t get enough of you. Your very touch
sets me on fire and breathes such life into me. I can’t describe it and I can’t live without it—without you.” Tears
rolled down her face as she caressed his scarred and muscular chest in her own worship of the man she loved.

They lay there in one another’s embrace exchanging kisses and caresses as they stared longingly in one
another’s eyes. ”I can’t wait until you’re my wife,” Harry said as he kissed her lips softly and tenderly. ”Only
then will I be truly complete. You are my every breath, every beat of my heart. Without you, I’m an empty
shell.” He pulled her into a tighter embrace and buried his face in her luxurious hair. ”Merlin, how I love you.”

Ginny snuggled into his neck and breathed in that comforting woodsy-spicy aroma that was so undeniably Harry,
basking in its warmth. ”I can’t wait until you’re my husband forever. Together, we’ll be whole—one complete
being, joined in every way. We’ll breathe for each other, our hearts will beat for each other.” She ran her hands
through his unruly raven locks. ”I love you so.”

The words no sooner than left her lips when a trickle of Harry's apprehension passed through their bond. Ginny
raised her head and looked into Harry's face. She knew he was worried about something he was trying to mask.
She knew him only too well and wasn't buying it.

"Harry, what is it, love?"

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"Hmm? What is what, Gin?"

"I felt it, Harry James Potter. You're worried about something. What is it?

Harry sighed resignedly. "You're right, Gin. I'm worried about...about this whole Assistant Head thing."

”Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” she agreed. ”So tell me.” She lay her head on Harry’s chest to listen once
again to his heartbeat.

”It’s all moving too fast, Gin. When we got back to Hogwarts, I was an Auror Trainee leading the DA. Yesterday,
I was an Auror Intern. Today, I’m an Auror,” Harry rambled. ”But not just any Auror, Gin. Not a Junior Auror
like Ron or the others, but instant Assistant Head of the Auror Office! I haven’t been on the force twenty-four
hours and I’m practically the bloody chief!”

”It has been a whirlwind for you, hasn’t it,” she agreed. She took his hand, brushing her lips across his fingers.
”But if they didn’t think you were equal to it...”

”But am I ready,” Harry groaned. ”I mean, I can lead a load of teenagers, but seasoned veterans old enough to
be my parents? Gin, I just don’t know if I can...”

Ginny sent a short burst of her confidence through their bond. ”Harry, you can. People respect you. You’ve done
some mighty things—things most wizards only dream of...or dread.”

”Becoming an Auror is a dream come true for me. I just didn’t bargain for this...at least not for about ten or
fifteen years,” Harry said with a doubtful tone.

”Kingsley and Chief Dawlish trust you and your judgment. You heard what Kingsley has said to you time and
again. The Office needs new blood and you’re it—the whole DA is new blood,” Ginny argued, trying to instill
some modicum of confidence in him. ”Your team knows you, Harry, and you know them. It’s only natural that
the Minister and the Chief wouldn’t want to fix something that isn’t broken. By appointing you Assistant Head,
your team stays intact.”

”But...”

”Harry, I love you, but you can be a stubborn git sometimes,” Ginny scolded mildly. ”Just give it time. You’ll find
that everything we’ve been telling you all along is true.”

”Remind me. What’s true,” Harry asked dubiously.

”That you’re a natural leader who has the respect of practically the entire Wizarding world. I know you don’t like
to hear that or even think about it, but it’s the way it is. Here’s your chance to make that difference you’re
always on about. Take it and run with it.”
”Ginny?”

”Yes.”

”I love you.”

”I know. Now stop fussing and go to sleep, Auror Potter.”

”Goodnight, my heart,” Harry said, kissing the top of her head.

”Goodnight, my own,” Ginny replied with a sleepy sigh.

They fell asleep in one another’s arms.

Ron and Hermione cuddled up on the rug in front of their fireplace dressed in nothing but a quilt. Since they had
been assigned to their own private room, this had become a nightly ritual before bed. But tonight would be
different. Hermione had promised Ron a surprise and she meant to deliver it.

”Ron,” Hermione cooed.

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”Yes, Love.”

”Do me a favor.”

”Anything you want.”

”Lie down on your back.”

”Here? In front of the fireplace?”

”Here. In front of the fireplace.” She conjured a firm pillow.

Ron lay back, slipping the pillow under his head. Hermione crawled seductively toward his face and began to
caress it. She kissed him every so lightly, brushing his lips again and again with her own. Her brown hair fell in
cascades of wild curls around her face as she climbed aboard his sculptured body. Hermione gazed with wonder
into his eyes as she manually worshipped him as though she were blind, following every curve of his defined
muscles. ”My gods, you are magnificent,” she whispered.

Ron closed his eyes and swallowed hard. She had never done anything like this before and he liked it. In fact, he
liked it a lot. She was so excruciatingly beautiful, her body a work of art. He couldn’t keep his hands off her.
”’Mione. My ’Mione,” he whispered, pulling her forward to kiss her. He claimed her lips softly and tenderly as
though they might shatter if he pressed too hard. He twined his long fingers into her curls and carefully
deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between her full lips.

She placed her hands flat against his chest and pushed away, shaking her head and smiling that wicked I want
you smile of hers that drove him wild. ”I promised you a surprise, remember,” she purred as she slid herself
seductively off him and crawled backward toward his feet. ”Special delivery,” she teased as she began to kiss her
way down and across his belly, pausing to take a few laps around his navel.

Ron moaned in anticipation as she kissed further and further southward until...his brain exploded. ”Oh Merlin,
’Mione!” The sensations that washed over him were nothing like he’d ever felt before. Electrical impulses raced
throughout his body with each touch, each kiss. ”That’s...it’s...you’re... gods almighty,” he moaned. His heart
began to pound in his ears as his breath came in ragged gasps.

Hermione continued to work him into a frenzy. He wanted her, but he didn’t want her to stop either. He
shuddered as his climax threatened to take over. He wasn’t ready for this to end, yet he had no desire to stop
her. ”’Mione, that’s bloody fantastic,” he panted. Ron saw stars as he reached the pinnacle of ultimate ecstasy
and then plunged into the familiar abyss as all rational thought escaped him.

When he finally returned to himself, Hermione lay next to him, tracing the lines of his mouth with her fingers.
He leaned up on his elbow and gazed down into her sparkling cinnamon eyes, his lopsided grin spread across his
gorgeous face. She reached up and brushed his shaggy red locks out of his magnificent blue eyes. ”Surprise,
Auror Weasley,” she whispered. ”Surprise.”

They lay together, kissing and caressing, exchanging vows of eternal love and devotion. Ron pulled Hermione
over on top of him so she could reach his lips with no discomfort to her graceful neck. ”My goddess has many
skills,” Ron whispered conspiratorially. ”But one must wonder where she acquired such skills.” He of course knew
where she’d learned it. Books. Hermione learned everything from books—well, almost everything. Her kiss was
pure dynamite and that didn’t come from any ruddy book.

”I read about it in a magazine at my parents’...it's apparently quite common among Muggles,” she cooed, her
eyes dancing. ”Did you like it?”

”Like it? Why don't they teach about this in Muggle studies?”

”Good. Then I’ll add that to my repertoire,” she giggled.

”That’ll be a favourite among favourites, I think. But what about you?”

”What about me?”

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”This,” he said and rolled her over onto her back.’’

”Ron, what are you...” She didn’t get a chance to finish. He had crushed his lips against hers in one of his
blockbuster kisses. Without the least prompting, she parted her lips and allowed him access. He snogged her
until she couldn’t breathe and then began his own descent southward, kissing breasts, belly, navel and... “RON!
Oh my gods!”

Mafalda read the Daily Prophet. The news was not unexpected, but still not what she had hoped for.
”Harry Potter Joins Ministry of Magic
Harry Potter needs no further introduction. Despite his young age, he has accomplished more than most of us do
in a lifetime. Yesterday, Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt announced that the members of Dumbledore's
Army trained by Mr Potter sat their Auror exam. 'It's a historical exam in many ways. Never before has anyone
this young sat it.' the Minister said.
Eight young wizards and witches, 18 and 19 years old, sat the exam and they all passed. Mr Potter and Miss Cho
Chang passed with an O. Miss Susan Bones and Mr Anthony Goldstein passed with an E, while Mr Terry Boot,
Miss Lavender Brown, Mr Seamus Finnegan and Mr Ronald Weasley passed with an A. Amazingly enough, this
entire class has studied less than a year, whereas the customary time is three years.
Most amazing of all, Mr Weasley's A is historic. He studied only three months, making him the first to successfully
complete Auror training in the shortest time ever. Mr Weasley’s accomplishments include serving as Keeper on
the winning Gryffindor Quidditch Team in 1995-96 and 1996-97, co-founding and organising Dumbledore’s Army
in 1995-96, and leading several counter-assaults against Death Eaters at the Battle of Hogwarts last May. Mr
Weasley is best-known for his exceptional skill at chess, which has led to his uncanny abilities as a tactician.
Mr Potter is appointed new Assistant Head of the Auror Office. According to Head Auror John Dawlish, ’it's the
natural way to merge Dumbledore's Army into the Auror Office.’ Minister Shacklebolt added that 'Mr Potter is the
perhaps the most experienced wizard in history, when it comes to fighting the dark arts.' He also points out that
Mr Potter has proven his leadership several times in the past, having served as Captain of the winning Gryffindor
Quidditch Team in 1996-97, co-founding and leading Dumbledore's Army in 1995-96, and taking command at the
Battle of Hogwarts.
The arrested Death Eaters have been interrogated and Mr Dawlish states that the Auror Office has gained
valuable information that will lead to further arrests of the last Death Eaters still fugitives from justice.”

A/N So Harry is an Auror. Is it unbelievable that he and the DA pass the test in this time? Harry has already been
fighting the Dark Arts on a level far beyond "normal" from the day he reentered the wizarding world. It's to that
standard DA was founded, to survive Voldemort and his DEs... that's not your every day Dark Arts follower. I
think Harry and his friends fight in a new way, the Dumbledore way. It's something monumental, something
never seen before in wizarding history. It's the wizarding version of Blietzkrieg, but in the hands of the good
guys. At least this is how I think, and find it reasonable that Harry would pass the test. I also use my experience
from Martial Arts. I can defeat a lower ranked opponent without much effort, but I am defeated with the same
ease by someone higher ranked... there are so many tiny details that make someone with a superior technique
superior... and in fighting the Dark Arts Harry and the DA are superior, they are the new elite. You don't have to
agree with me on this, but it's my reasoning for letting Harry, Ron and the DA becoming Aurors this fast.

Thank you Ghost Chicken for proofreading and editing. Please post a review, it's much appreciated.

Chapter 16: Plotting and planning


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Chapter 16 - Plotting and Planning

For Harry, Ron, and the other newly-licenced Aurors, life went on with little change in their routine. They
continued to train and practice their dueling and tumbling techniques, working tactics and execution into their
regimen. They had come together almost flawlessly as a precise and coordinated unit. The more-senior Aurors
frequently paid interested visits to Hogwarts to observe their training regimen, and even made strides toward
learning some of their exercises.

In reality, the teenage Aurors constituted almost half the force, and the older Aurors were happy to welcome
them among their ranks without any nauseating patronisation about them being new or so young. After all, two
of these remarkable young Aurors were Fellows of the Order of Merlin, and their astounding accomplishments
couldn't be denied.

Harry had been nervous about meeting his senior colleagues for the first time after exams. Naturally, he was
worried that they wouldn't accept him as Assistant Head. His fears had been unfounded, as the Aurors seemed to
be rather proud of having the famous Harry Potter as their second in command. Ginny was right—but then
again, Ginny usually is.

Harry and Ron attended Chief Robards’ funeral, accompanied by Ginny and Hermione. The entire force attended
as well, including the DA Aurors. The Minister for Magic offered the eulogy, having been a friend and colleague
in the Auror Office for many years. ”Gawain Robards dedicated his life to the fight against dark forces. He never
married and has no surviving family, save his mother. During the war, he was instrumental in the investigation
and subsequent removal of people within the Ministry who hoped to escape justice and attempt to undermine
our efforts to recover from that terrible war. He was a loyal friend and a trusted member of my staff and he will
be greatly missed.”

Following the service and burial, the four of them paid their respects to Mrs Robards. Harry told her how much
he had admired her son. Mrs Robards, of course, mourned her son, but she had accepted that he died doing
what he loved to do and she was proud of him.

Dawlish rifled through the archives of the Improper Use of Magic Office, searching for the record of Mafalda's
underage magic, which he found. He also found the registration of her marriage and that she had become a
widow shortly thereafter. It appeared she had married a Muggle, most likely confunded, imperiused, or both, and
then killed only hours later.

Dawlish hoped she murdered him while he slept, at least, but somehow, he doubted it. That unfortunate man
died tragically, his last hours serving no purpose other than as the means to lift the Trace from Mafalda,
allowing her to practice her dark brand of magic without restraint or penalty. Chief Dawlish decided at that
moment that that young man, would be avenged.

The list of Mafalda’s underage magic was morbidly impressive. Both Dawlish and Harry were amazed that no one
had done anything about it, since such a fuss had been made over Harry conjuring a Patronus in the act of
saving his and his cousin’s lives. He’d been placed on trial before the entire Wizengamot and nearly expelled...or
worse.

Mafalda’s transgressions began at a young age, most of which had probably been disregarded as accidental
magic, but from the age of eight, Mafalda was showing nasty signs of becoming a powerfully evil witch. Two
incidents involving Mafalda and the killing curse appeared on the list, and Harry was sure that one of them was
the one the twins had told him about. It seemed that the Improper Use of Magic Office thought the girl would
get straightened out as soon as she came to Hogwarts, but before Mafalda turned twelve, the list of underage
magic ended.

”That would be in the summer of 1994,” Dawlish said.

”About the time Riddle resurfaced...in Little Hangleton,” Harry said, looking up at his boss.

”Harry, are you sure? We could really be onto something,” Dawlish said. ”But the question is what are we on
to?”

”If we’ve any hope of getting any real answers, we need to find her father. My guess is that he lives in the
Muggle world—it’s easier to hide, especially for a Squib. Arabella Figg’s been living undetected among Muggles

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for years. Maybe we can use the Muggle police to locate him,” Harry said.

Dawlish was surprised and even a little appalled at the idea of dealing with Muggles, but remembering how
valuable the electronic surveillance system had been to their mission at King's Cross Station, he couldn’t help
being curious about Harry's suggestion. ”Explain please.”

”Muggles have computers where they keep their records. The death of Mafalda's mother should be listed in the
obituary notices of local newspapers kept in electronic archives. Perhaps we might discover her husband’s
last-known address and go from there. Whatever the case, we won't find him in any Ministry records. I’d like to
bring Hermione Granger in on this, sir.”

”You might have something there,” Dawlish said thoughtfully ”Right. See what you can find out. Go ahead and
ask Hermione to help you. Working with Muggles and civilian witches is unorthodox, but your methods have
worked in the past.”

”Thanks, Chief,” Harry said, shaking his boss’ hand. ”I’ll keep you posted.”

Harry's respect for the new Head Auror had begun to grow by leaps and bounds. Trusting Harry, although he
didn't quite understand every aspect of the plan, showed fine leadership. Dawlish, on the other hand, had no
reason not to trust Harry's judgment. As long as they agreed on the general strategy, Harry had liberty to
conduct his investigation in unorthodox ways if that got the job done.

Harry returned to Hogwarts and over supper, he and Ron discussed ways to break into a Muggle police station
and obtain records from their computers. They decided that the Great Hall was not the place to discuss such
sensitive material, so they would meet in either couple’s private room.

Ginny joined the meetings whenever she didn't have Quidditch practice with the Gryffindor team or the Harpies.
Having Ginny in and out of the plans turned out to be very helpful in the long run. She was aware of the general
plan, but could provide a fresh perspective on the details. Harry noted this and decided to bring it up with
Dawlish. Whenever they made plans for a major operation at the Auror Office, there should be someone
officially taking Ginny's role.

The plan was ready to execute the week of Teddy’s birthday. It had taken a lot of effort because they had to
consider every aspect of the Secrecy Act. Operations among Muggles meant loads of paperwork, including
notification of various offices, procurement of the right permits, clearance from every involved office's
administration to take out overtime for Ministry employees in case something went awry. The Muggleworthy
Excuse Office had to read and comment on the plan, the comment had to be considered, commented upon, and
then returned to the Muggleworthy Excuse Office. The revised plan would then be sent back to the Auror Office
and either approved or returned with yet another comment, or denied altogether.

It was quite obvious to the trio how Riddle got hold of the Ministry. If the alarm went off at the Ministry,
someone probably had to check that it really was the alarm and confirm that in a written report sent to the
various offices, who had to draft a plan of action, get it approved, and revise it if necessary. It was maddening.

”No wonder there are so many internal memos flying all over the Ministry. It’s mental! How in Merlin's name is
anyone supposed to get anything done,” Ron asked rhetorically with a heavy sigh.

After weeks of planning, or being at war with bureaucracy, as Ron called it, the quartet were relieved to leave
Hogwarts that Friday. They would go to the Burrow and then the next day to Andromeda’s for Teddy's birthday
party.

Stepping out of the fireplace, Harry and Ron were welcomed by an extremely proud Molly with signature
bone-crushing hugs. ”My Aurors,” she said proudly. ”Supper’s ready, dears. All your favourite foods.”

”How is that even possible,” Ginny asked. ”Ron's favourite food is... food.” Everyone laughed and took their
places at the scrubbed oak table.

”I can live with whatever Mum made us,” Ron replied. ”And it looks great, Mum. I’m starved.”

”Of course you are,” snickered Hermione.

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Over a delicious supper, Molly reminded everyone of the schedule for the weekend. ”Tomorrow morning, I'm
taking Ginny to Diagon Alley for a fitting. In the afternoon, it's Teddy's birthday party. By the way, Aunt Muriel
will be there. She learned that we consider Teddy a part of our family now, and my dear aunt never misses a
family gathering, more’s the pity. Harry, whatever did you do to her last time you saw her?”

”I didn't do anything other than listen to her go on about Prewett family history for two hours, desperately
trying to stay awake. Snoring would not have been taken kindly to, I’m thinking,” he smirked.

Ron snorted. ”What makes you think Harry did anything, Mum?”

Molly handed Harry a letter, which he read aloud:


My little niece Molly,
I am saddened by your last letter. You were not raised to treat your elders with such disrespect. Your father
would be appalled and your dear mother horrified. If you weren’t my favourite niece, I would surely disinherit you
for your insolence.

”Oh there’s a surprise,” Arthur chuckled.

”I’m shaking in my shoes,” Molly said sarcastically. ”Read on, dear.”

Harry had to admire Molly Weasley. The threat of disinheiriting meant nothing to her. It never meant anything.
The Weasleys didn’t have much money, but they were happy. He read on.
Molly, those children of yours, with the possible exception of Percival, are a collective disgrace to the Prewett
name. They are Arthur’s through and through. Disrespectful, tactless, obsessive, and irresponsible, just like their
father.

”Excuse me? Did I read that right,” Harry exclaimed indignantly. ”Who is this woman talking about?” Arthur
Weasley was anything but irresponsible he was far from tactless. Harry could always turn to his surrogate father
for sound advice and the man had yet to steer him wrong.

”It’s all right, son,” Arthur said with eyes twinkling. ”We get that from her sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything.
Go on.”

”Yes, sir.”
What possessed you to allow William to work with goblins, of all creatures, and then marry a French Veela? She
could take leave of her senses and murder him in his sleep! And like it or not, his hair is entirely too long.

”I told her that subject was closed,” Molly ground through now-gritted teeth. ”He has a fine, respectable job with
Gringotts and Fleur has been a good wife to him. Murder him in his sleep, indeed!”

”There, there, my beauty. Consider the source. Read on, Harry,” Arthur said, still with twinkling eyes.

Harry realised that Arthur found his all quite amusing and thought how typical it was of the man. Virtually
nothing rattled him.
You allowed Charles to run off and chase Dragons, for Merlin’s sake. Dragons! In Romania! Molly, those people
seldom bathe. The boy is scarred beyond recognition, and it’s a wonder he hasn’t been eaten.

”She knows ruddy well that Charlie’s name is not and never has been Charles,” Ron fumed.”What is she playing
at, anyway. It’s like she’s out to rename us all!”

”Ron...” Hermione said softly, stroking his hair. ”She’s just a silly old woman who...”

”She’s a bloody nightmare, Hermione! If she starts on you...” Ron stopped mid-sentence. Hermione’s cinnamon
eyes were trained intently on his, begging him to hold his temper. ”Sorry, ’Mione. Keep reading, Harry.”
Percival is not a Weasley. I’m convinced he is all Prewett. You say he’s exactly like me? Of course he is, He’s
proper, reserved, polite, and respectful and nothing like his father or brothers at all. He’s a real treasure. You can
be proud of him.

”Percy has never been Percival,” Molly shouted. ”The very idea!”

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”Has she lost her mind,” Ginny cried. ”Percy certainly is a Weasley. He’s just....different, that’s all.”

”Different? Gin-Gin, he’s just like Muriel—opinionated, pompous, and...and constipated,” Ron said beginning to
laugh.

”Constipated? Ron, what is that supposed to mean,” Hermione asked incredulously amid peals of laughter from
around the table.

”Well...wouldn’t you be if you had a cast-iron wand shoved up your...?”

”That will do, Ronald,” his father interjected, chuckling. ”We get the picture. Harry?” Arthur gestured for Harry
to read on as soon as he composed himself. The mental picture of Percy trying to walk about with a rod stuffed
somewhere wouldn’t leave his mind.
George is a successful businessman, you say? The only thing he’s done successfully is to make a lot of money
encouraging children to terrorise their elders. It’s a wonder that boy and his twin never blew up that ramshackle
house of yours.

”WWW jokes are harmless! What does she know? She wouldn’t know a Canary Cream from a dungbomb,” Ron
grumbled.

”And there’s nothing wrong with this house either,” Harry said firmly. ”There’s love here and that’s what really
matters.” He turned to look into Ginny’s beaming face.

”Too right! The old cow,” Ginny replied. ”Is there more?”

”Erm...yeah. There’s more.” Harry read on.


I’ve said all I’m going to say about Ronald, other than that his table manners are atrocious, he uses the foulest
language, and he’s sullen as a Centaur. His appearance is a constant disgrace—shirt untucked, tie askew, hair a
shaggy mess. He and William could do nicely with a haircut. When he and that remarkable Potter boy were here,
I couldn’t believe the state of him. You’d better do something before he drives that sweet Granger girl away for
good, even if she is a Muggleborn.

Harry burst into laughter and Ron snatched the letter. ”Bad table manners,” Ron exclaimed with his mouth full
of food, spitting bits all over. Clearly realising the irony, Ron blushed as he handed it back to Harry.

Hermione almost choked with laughter as she digested Aunt Muriel's account of Ron. ”Honestly!”

”Honestly? Is that all you can say,” Ron shouted, banging the side of his fist on the table. Everyone jumped,
including Harry. ’Mione, she just made a issue of your blood status. She can say anything she wants about me,
but she’ll do well to keep her acid tongue and her poison quill off you,” Ron thundered as he drew his wand.
”Scourgify.” The food he’d spat all over himself and the table disappeared.

”Ron, it’s okay. It doesn’t matter to me. You’re all that matters to me,” Hermione spoke softly to him to calm
him down. ”Our family is all that matters.” She covered his clenched fist and massaged it until it relaxed. ”Go
on, Harry. I assume there’s more?”

”There is.” Harry began to read and his eyes grew wide. This paragraph was about him and Ginny.
Mr Potter is perfectly charming and Ginevra could never find a better man. He shows all proper respect for the
elderly, and is eager to learn about the family. I'm very happy that he appreciates the value of a family heirloom
like my tiara, and I think even a mediocre-looking girl like Ginevra will carry such a masterpiece with honour.

”What? Medio...this is a load of rubbish,” Harry snarled. ”My Ginny? Mediocre-looking? No way in heaven, hell,
or middle-earth!” How dare that this doddering old fishwife insult the beautiful woman he loved.

”Harry, it’s nothing new,” Ginny said. ”When I was little, she insisted I had a mild case of Spattergroit because of
all my freckles.”

”You’re not...you’re...”

”I know. Keep reading, love,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder. She’d long gotten over showing her

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affection for Harry in front of her family.


However, I do suggest you keep a close eye on her wedding dress. Her clothes are often too tight or too short,
and sometimes both. To save Harry any disgrace, I do have a very proper Victorian wedding gown that I might
consider allowing Ginevra to wear.
Your loving aunt,
Muriel

”That old hag,” Ginny shouted. ”She thinks I'm a...tart. I’ll be hanged if I wear that moth-eaten shroud covered
in mouldy lace when I marry Harry! I’ll burn it, I swear I will!” Tears streaked down her cheeks as she began to
cry with hurt and indignation.

If she was beautiful when she was angry, she was drop-dead gorgeous now, even with her face all red and
tear-stained. ”Gin, take it easy, love,” Harry said putting his arm around her waist and kissing her head. ”She’s
just jealous because you’re so stunningly beautiful.” A tart? Nay, but a banquet set only for mine eyes and
partaking. Harry sent a calming wave of his love through their bond.

The twinkle left Arthur Weasley’s eyes. That woman had insulted his one and only daughter. Mediocre?
Preposterous. A tart? Never! Arthur Weasley was perfectly incensed. Muriel had gone too far by just the same as
calling Ginny’s honour into question. The look on Harry’s face summed up both of their feelings. Good man.

Molly seethed. It wasn’t enough that that old curmudgeon had the audacity to question her and Arthur’s
parenting skills, but to turn her malicious tirade against her Ginny was completely unacceptable. Ginny was
anything but mediocre-looking and certainly did not dress inappropriately or conduct herself in any manner
other than as the well-brought-up young witch she was. Loving aunt, indeed!

”So, Harry has first Muriel-duty tomorrow,” Arthur grinned, twining his fingers behind his graying red head.

”I daresay it's the rest of you who should spend time with her, working on your manners,” Harry smirked. ”And
Gin, you have to decide whether you’ll go to Diagon Alley or to Aunt Muriel for your wedding gown tomorrow.”

”A Victorian wedding dress. Would anyone know there's actually a bride somewhere inside it,” Ginny asked,
wiping her eyes.

”So after careful consideration, it’s Diagon Alley,” Hermione grinned.

”Yes. You can ask Aunt Muriel about that satin-and-lace horror for your wedding,” Ginny retorted.

”I doubt the Muggleborn future bride of the sloppy, bad-mannered groom-to-be would be considered even
remotely worthy of it,” Hermione concluded. They all broke into fits of laughter.

”Ginny.” A soft kiss. A caress. ”Gin, it’s time you woke up, Love.” Another kiss, more insistent. A gentle hand on
her shoulder. ”If you don’t wake up for me, your mum’s going to come in here,” Harry teased as she began to
stir.

”Mmm...I want to stay here with you,” she mumbled and rolled over. ”You’re so warm and...dressed! Harry!”

”Sorry, Gin, but there’s no time for snogging,” Harry chuckled. ”You have a fitting today, remember? You’re
going to marry me in a few months...”

Ginny grabbed Harry’s shirt in both fists and pulled him into a passionate kiss. ”I am going to marry you in a few
months, aren’t I? Sounds like fun.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled into him.

”Gin, c’mon. If you don’t get out of this bed, Molly’s going to come up here and drag you out herself,” Harry
warned. ”And I don’t want to know...”

”Ginevra Molly Weasley,” Molly’s voice flew up the stairs like a Howler. ”Get up!”

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”See,” he said. ”She’s already in a right state. C’mon, let’s go.” Harry began to nudge her out of the bed, but she
nudged back until they were both laughing and nudging one another into the snog there was no time for.

”But I don’t want to get up. It’s chilly,” she whined. ”You’re all warm and sweet and...mine.”

”Ginevra, if you don’t get up I’m going to have to resort to interrogation tactics.”

”What...oh don’t you dare, Harry James Potter,” she warned, already starting to fight him off. ”If you do it, you’ll
regret it.” She squealed as Harry began to tickle her. He started with her sides and then moved to her belly,
back and forth until she yielded.

”Oh-okay, all ri-right, Ha-harry, stop,” she cried, trying to catch her breath.

”Are you going to get up?”

”Yes! But only if you stop,” Ginny cried.

Harry stopped and looked into her eyes. ”Love me?”

”Forever.”

Harry slid off the bed and lifted her up, carrying her out of the bedroom. ”I’ve got her, Molly! What should I do
with her now,” Harry called down the stairs.

”Oh just drop her in a chair at the table. Get some breakfast into her so we can go,” Molly said, directing him to
a seat to deposit Ginny into.

”Right you are,” Harry replied with a mischievous grin, but instead of just dropping her into a chair, he dropped
himself into a chair with Ginny on his lap. ”Thy throne, my queen.”

”Then thou wouldst feed me by thine own hand, Sir Knight,” she asked, leaning into his shoulder.

”If thou wishest, I will feed thee. What is thine heart’s desire, for thy mother has taken great pains to provide
thee with the finest delicacies,” Harry said, kissing her hand.

”Harry, for Merlin’s sake,” Molly clucked. ”Has she taught you that nonsense, too?”

”Mum, it’s not nonsense...and he’s very good at it,” Ginny pouted. ”Art thou not well-learn-ed in the tongue of
thine ancestors?”

”Aye, milady, for thou hast taught me well. But what other hast thou taught,” Harry asked her, genuinely
curious.

”I have taught none other but mine own dear brother, Ronald of the Burrow, brave Knight of the Chessboard. He
is a noble man who loveth thy surrogate sister, the fair Hermione, Lady of the Library,” Ginny answered him,
taking a bite of toast he offered her.

”Aye, and I have no doubt that he hath charmed her with...”

”Enough, already! Ginny, hurry up. The shops will be opening soon and I want to get in and out before the
streets fill up with nosy riff-raff,” Molly said, chiding them. Molly honestly thought their banter was very sweet,
but there was just no time.

Harry and Ginny knew very well what she was talking about. It was one thing being in Hogsmeade where they
could move around like normal people, but Diagon Alley...there, they attracted attention and there were always
those willing to alert reporters. There were still some unscrupulous rags on the market that would gladly print
any dirt, real—really twisted—or imagined, just to sell copies. "She's right, Gin. I don't want you exposed..."

”Harry, I can take care of myself,” Ginny snapped. ”I’m a big girl.”

”Love, I have no doubts about your ability to take care of yourself. I just don’t want you and your mum to get

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caught up in a media circus. It’s best that you go early do what you need to do before any reporters find out
you’re in Diagon Alley,” Harry explained. ”I just don’t want you and Molly hurt, that’s all.”

”Harry, I think you’re overreacting, but all right. Mum, let’s get this over with,” Ginny sighed as she made for
the stairs to get ready to go. ”Oh Merlin! Teddy’s party!” Ginny raced up the stairs to her room for some clean
clothes and then sprinted into the bathroom for a shower.

”Woss up with Ginny,” Ron yawned, scratching his head. He’d just come down the stairs for breakfast. ”Woss she
got her knickers in a twist about?”

”Harry had to fight her to get her out of bed. She has a fitting appointment today at Madame Malkin’s. She
wouldn’t move until she remembered the party. Now she’s in a rush,” Molly told him. ”Where’s Hermione?”

”Still asleep. She’s been studying rather hard and she’s exhausted. She’s going to sit ten NEWT exams,” Ron
said.

”Ten! Ron, you can’t let her do that,” Harry exclaimed. ”She’ll...she’ll go round the twist before it’s all over! I’m
going to...”

”No, Harry. Been there—done that. Leave her to it,” Ron retorted. ”She’s determined, and you know how
Hermione is when she gets her head around something.”

Ginny bounded down the stairs in a pair of jeans and a jumper with her thick hair pulled back into a very heavy
ponytail. ”Ready, Mum!”

”Finally! Ginny dear, don’t forget your jacket! You two,” Molly said pointedly, gesturing to Ron and Harry. ”Keep
your father out of trouble,” Molly said as she kissed Ron and Harry on the cheeks. Molly and Ginny stepped into
the fireplace and Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron.

”What was all the noise,” Hermione asked, bustling down the stairs with a pile of books in her arms.

”Mum and Ginny just left for Diagon Alley,” Ron replied. Hermione leaned down for a good morning kiss.
”Morning, love.”

”Mmm...morning. Morning, Harry,” Hermione said brightly, taking her seat at the table. ”Any tea in the pot?”

”Um...er...I think so,” Harry replied. ”If not, I’ll fix some more. No problem.” Harry poured her a cup of tea, but
noticed to his distaste that she had the bottom of the pot. It was more dregs than drinkable tea, so he offered to
make her some more.

”Thanks, Harry,” she said, buttering some toast. ”So... Teddy’s party today, yeah?” She looked at Ron for
confirmation, but he appeared to be in another world. That wasn’t the first good-morning kiss he’d received
today and he was reliving the past hour in his head. ”Ronald!”

”What? Oh, sorry ’Mione. I was thinking...” Ron stammered. ”You were saying?”

”I know what you were thinking...” Hermione began, but Harry cut her off.

”Thinking,” he asked, pouring Hermione a fresh cup of tea. ”Who’s thinking?”

”Nobody, I...” Hermione began, but decided better of it and let it go.

The door opened suddenly and the Weasley patriarch stepped through it, very obviously pleased with himself.
”Good morning, children,” he called. ”Has Molly left yet?” Arthur Weasley liked to keep the peace in his home
and he wanted to make sure his wife wasn’t within earshot.

”She and Ginny left about ten minutes ago,” Harry replied. ”Why?”

”I’ve finally repaired that motorcycle, but I haven't tried to start the engine. I wanted you to do that, Harry,”
Arthur said proudly. They pushed the motorcycle out of the shed and into the garden. Arthur had done a great
job and it was shining beautifully. ”It still needs some further charm work, but I think the flying one is intact,”

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Arthur said.

Harry straddled the bike and turned the key. He jammed his foot down on the starter, but it didn’t start. ”Hang
on. They don’t always start on the first try.” Harry tried again, but all the engine did was cough and sputter.
”Third time’s the trick,” he said confidently and used his entire body weight on the starter. The engine roared to
life. The vibration of the engine and the smell of petrol drove straight into Harry’s soul. Sirius Black lives and
rides again.

”I charmed the fuel tank so it never runs out of petrol,” Arthur shouted above the noise.

”This is great, Arthur. But I think I'll have to ask Hagrid to teach me how to ride, since I’ve only ever ridden in
the old sidecar,” Harry shouted back.

”That's probably a good idea. Molly wouldn't like it if we... had an accident. She's not that fond of this bike...or
any other,” Arthur shouted again.

”I don’t suppose so, considering the last time this thing flew, it crashed in the Tonks’ garden with Harry and
Hagrid! They were nearly killed,” Hermione said with her hands on her hips. ”Honestly. Boys and their toys!”
She would never admit it out loud, but chills ran down her spine when Harry started Sirius’ old Triumph.

She imagined Ron with a huge, powerful bike between his long, muscular legs, and her astride it, clutching his
hard chest, her head laying firm against him. She stole a glance at Ron, who stared at the machine with pure
rapture showing on his face. You would look so hot on a motorcycle, Ronald Weasley.

Harry switched off the engine and they rolled the bike back into the shed. ”Arthur, thanks. It would have meant
so much to Sirius.”

”Not at all, Harry. Not at all, but it was a lot of fun. I learned loads about Muggles while I was working on it,”
Arthur said, wiping his hands on a rag.

Harry had no sooner than stepped back into the kitchen, when he felt as though he’d been hit in the gut with
that old rogue Bludger. Anger, frustration, disgust...Ginny was severely stressed. A dress fitting can’t be that
stressful, can it? He stumbled backward, but Ron followed right behind and caught him before he fell.

”What’s wrong, mate? You all right,” Ron asked, instantly on guard, his hand over his wand. ”You look sick!”

”I’m all right, Ron, but it doesn’t feel as though Ginny is,” Harry told his friend. ”I hope...” All at once, the
feeling passed and all Harry felt was a sort of release from Ginny. He relaxed. ”She’s all right now.”

”Harry, I think you need to find out what happened just now, because I have a sneaking suspicion she doesn’t
plan to tell you about it,” Hermione said warily.

”I don’t want to go interrogating her at every turn, Hermione. It didn’t last more than a minute, so it isn’t a
problem. She doesn’t seem to be upset now at all.” Harry wanted to know what happened, but he wasn’t going
to press her. If Ginny wanted to tell him, she would.

Arthur came into the house after locking up the shed and imperturbing it against the prying eyes of his
wife.”Molly and Ginny should be back soon and we’ve got a party to go to.”

Arthur hadn’t been in the house when Ginny’s emotions slammed into Harry, so he gave his friends a warning
look conveying that the subject of Ginny’s distress was now closed.

”I suppose we should get cleaned up,” Arthur said, washing his hands at the kitchen sink.

Harry had risen just after Molly, so all he really needed to do was change his clothes. ”The shower’s yours,”
Harry said to Ron and Hermione. ”I’ve had one this morning.” The three of them trooped up the stairs to make
themselves presentable. He stepped into the bedroom and waved his hand at the bed. It tidied itself while he
pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a green polo shirt.

Harry caught a glimpse of his own image in Ginny’s full-length mirror. This particular shirt fit him well when he
bought it, but now it seemed a bit snug around his chest and shoulders. Since he wore school robes or tee shirts

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and jeans most of the time, he hadn’t paid much attention to changes in his physique.

He was no contender for body-building trophies, but he had managed to sculpt and define his abdominals,
pectorals, and biceps. Since his legs were covered by his jeans, he could only imagine how tight his thigh and
calf muscles must be now. He hadn’t taken any notice of it before, other than increased stamina during dueling
practice, but he was quite sure Ginny had.

”So you’ve finally noticed it, have you,” a sultry voice asked from behind. ”I was wondering how long it would be
before you realised your shirts and jeans have become a bit...tight.”

Harry about jumped out of his skin. ”Ginny! You’re back,” Harry said with a squeak in his voice. ”How was
the...uh...fitting?”

”The fitting went fine, but Madame Malkin poked me a few times,” she said rubbing her sides. ”I’ll live. I see
you’ve had a fitting of your own there, Assistant Chief Potter.” Ginny smiled wickedly and wrapped her arms
around him from behind. Last spring, Harry came home practically emaciated from months of deprivation on the
run, so she could clasp her hands at his navel. But now, after plenty of Molly’s good cooking, the fine meals at
Hogwarts, and all the training exercise with the DA and the Quidditch team, her fingers barely touched. ”Didn’t
realise you’re such a hottie, did you?”
You’re a right hottie yourself, Miss Weasley. ”Me? Nah,” Harry snickered, turning around to take her in his arms.
” I just have to keep myself in condition to keep equal to your...shall we say...energy?”

She giggled as he leaned in to give her one of his signature mind-blowing kisses. He’d always thought of her as
too beautiful to ever understand what she saw in him, but she must’ve seen something he didn’t notice. He did
notice, though, that his jeans were feeling a bit tight all of a sudden.

Harry reluctantly broke their kiss, sending a wave of his love and desire through their bond. ”I hate to say this,
love, but we need to be going soon.” He continued to hold her and nuzzle her neck.

Ginny laid her head against his chest and held him closer. ”But just standing here with you, like this, is so
nice...” She sighed as she nestled her head further into his defined chest and listened to the comforting beat of
his heart. She returned his wave and he kissed the top of her head.

”Come on. Get changed if you’re going to so we can go,” Harry said. It was quite obvious that Ginny didn’t want
them to leave this room and wondered what had gotten into her. She loved the few times they visited Teddy
before school started again in September, but today, she didn’t seem to want to go. ”Ginny, did something
happen in Diagon Alley today,” Harry asked her. ”You don’t seem to want to leave the house.”

She didn’t answer, but chose a lighter blouse from her closet and changed out of her jumper. She didn’t look
angry, but when he asked his question, her eyes went dull. ”I’m ready,” she said, a little shaken. ”Let’s go
then.”

”Not so fast, Ginevra Molly Weasley. I asked you a question,” he said a little too insistently. ”What happened?”

”Nothing,” Ginny said. ”We Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron like we always do, said hello to Tom and a few...”

”A few...what, Ginny. Tell me,” Harry demanded. ”What happened!”

"We were recognised by the people in Diagon Alley, but most of them were nice. Some asked for autographs,
others congratulated me on my Harpies contract...nothing that we couldn't have expected, " Ginny told him.
"But someone must have alerted the press, because when we stepped out from Madame Malkin's, there were a
group of them waiting for us..." Ginny stopped talking, uncertain as how to continue.

”Did they hurt you,” Harry asked, clearly annoyed. ”Did they...”

”No, they didn’t, but it really upset Mum. If nothing else, she got a clear understanding of what it’s like for
you...for us. But we’re all right,” Ginny assured him, hoping he’d let the thing drop.

”So why are you so evasive? Why don’t you want to go anywhere now? You’ve been looking forward to this
party,” Harry quizzed her. ”This isn’t you, Gin. I can feel your nervousness. Please tell me what happened.”

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”Harry, it’s just been a very stressful morning. I’ve been poked, prodded, and mobbed...” she began to cry.

”Ginny? Baby? What the ruddy hell happened out there,” Harry asked, becoming angry now. ”Was Rita Skeeter
among them?

Ginny burst into new tears, answering Harry’s question without a word. ”Oh Harry, she was horrible. She...she
asked my mum...she asked my mum how I...Oh Harry!”
Molly and Ginny Apparated just inside the Leaky Cauldron. It was busy as usual, but no one seem to take much
notice. Ginny thought perhaps a lot of the fervor had died down about herself and Harry, since Lee had been
quite diligent in his occasional releases to the Prophet and due to Xeno Lovegood’s well-written articles in The
Quibbler.

”Hello, Mrs Weasley! Miss Ginny! Out for some shopping today,” Tom called from the bar. He paused from
polishing the highly-lacquered surface and leaned over. ”Wedding shopping, is it?”

”Hello, Tom. Yes, Ginny has a fitting for her wedding gown this morning with Madame Malkin,” Molly replied
proudly.

”Well then, have a good day in Diagon Alley, ladies. Lovely as ever, Molly,” Tom winked as they made for the rear
of the pub.
"Mum, Tom fancies you," Ginny teased as her mother tapped the appropriate bricks with her wand. The bricks
rearranged themselves and created an opening into Diagon Alley.
“Oh no, dear,” Molly said, blushing. “He’s just got a warped sense of humour. He’s been friends with your father
and me for years. We were in the same year at Hogwarts, you know.”
Molly and Ginny realised they had been running a bit behind already, since Ginny didn’t want to get out of bed,
but now they were almost late. They walked as fast as they could toward Madame Malkin’s shop, reaching it
without drawing too much attention. Ginny did stop to sign a photo from Witch Weekly for a seven-year-old girl
who looked like she had met Merlin himself. It was one thing to politely excuse or ignore the adult "fans," but
children were another matter.
Once inside Madame Malkin's, Ginny relaxed. She felt like a princess in her wedding dress. Madame Malkin
adjusted it to fit her perfectly, accidentally poking her a few times. ”Oh! I’m so sorry, dear,” she said each time.
Once alterations were noted, Ginny changed back into her street clothes and she and Molly left the shop. They
hadn't taken three steps before a mob of reporters converged on them. The rumour of their presence had clearly
spread faster than a secret at Hogwarts.
An unpleasantly familiar voice rang out above the din. “Mrs Weasley! Miss Weasley! A word, if you please.” Rita
Skeeter slinked toward them, trapping them against the wall of another shop.

“Well, if it isn’t a mule hiding in a herd of unicorns,” Molly sneered. She knew all about Rita’s horrible treatment
of Harry and Hermione in her… work. Back in Ron’s, Harry’s, and Hermione’s fourth year at Hogwarts when
Harry had been roped into the Triwizard Tournament, Molly had allowed herself to be taken in by it when Rita
reported for Witch Weekly that Hermione was playing Harry for a fool with “the Bulgarian bon-bon,” Viktor
Krum.
She felt a wave of shame wash over her as she recalled how shabbily she had treated her future daughter-in-law
that year at Easter, and just before the last Triwizard task. Molly decided she would not allow this woman to twist
anything she or Ginny might say, so she decided to make herself perfectly clear. “Just give me a reason, Rita,”
Molly finally said, pointing her wand at the other woman’s nose. “Back off.”
Rita stepped back, her eyes on Molly's wand. "Now, now. I'm just doing my job, after all. Just one or two teensy
questions?" Before Molly could turn away, Rita blurted out her questions without leave. "Mrs Weasley, how does
it feel to know you have a torrid love triangle going on right under your own roof, and how does your daughter
remain friends with Miss Granger while they share Mr Potter? And that tall, handsome youngest son of yours
caught in the middle..." Rita pretended sympathy, but her eyes were full of pure venom. Her colleagues fell silent,
quills and parchment at the ready for anything Molly or Ginny might say.

Does she really believe her own lies? All of a sudden, the air began to crackle and Ginny’s breathing became
ragged. Molly turned to usher her daughter away from this band of cutthroats, but froze mid-action. Ginny’s hair
had begun to fly about her head and shoulders. Her hands had turned out at the end of stock-straight arms, as a
shriek from seemingly nowhere cut through the street causing the ground to tremble.

“Ginny, dear. Calm down,” she said softly, putting her arm protectively around her daughter’s shoulders. “She
isn’t worth losing your temper…Ginevra Weasley!”

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Ginny shrugged off her mother’s arm, but spoke not a word. She drew in a deep, sweeping breath and
screamed, “No!” Before anyone could register Ginny’s cry, there was a blinding white light, a shout, and then
silence. The air continued to crackle as Ginny collapsed against her mother, panting and sobbing.
All around them lay the herd of reporters, stunned unconscious, but otherwise unharmed. The only one still
standing was Rita Skeeter, her hair singed, her robes tattered, her glassed cracked, and her ever-present
acid-green Quick Quotes Quill and pad of parchment incinerated. The remnants of the quill hung loosely from her
shaking fingers.
Molly sized her up and then began to laugh as her eyes rested at Rita’s feet. There was a small puddle under the
disgraced journalist, and a smell Molly associated with diaper changes soon filled the air around her. Molly allowed
herself a moment of sadistic glee, but then collected herself and drew her wand again. “Don’t you ever come
anywhere near or write another word about me or mine again, Rita Skeeter, for the day you do will be the day
you will wish you were dead. And mark me, you malicious pixie—that includes Harry Potter and Hermione
Granger.”
In a state of shock, Rita nodded absently and backed away, stumbling over the still unconscious forms of her
colleagues. Rita landed on her bum with a revealing ploof!
There was a round of cheers and applause as a few onlookers came over to Molly, asking if they could help her
with her daughter. “Allow me to congratulate you,” one middle-aged witch said. “You finally put that vile woman
in her place!”

“It’s a dirty job, but somebody had to do it,” Ginny said weakly, pulling herself up straight.
"I think the manure that woman shovels finally revealed its origin..." one wizard grinned as he sniffed in Rita
Skeeter's direction and pulled a face. Without another word, Rita Skeeter Disapparated, too scared and too
embarrassed to speak.

“And it looks as though you and your mother were the ones to have broken her story,” the congratulating witch
said. “And all our best to you and your young Auror, Miss Weasley. Well done, ladies!”
The crowd began to disperse, but a few wizards remained with Molly and Ginny, escorting them safely to the
Leaky Cauldron, where they could Floo home.

“That certainly explains the hit I took earlier,” Harry said. “I felt this massive jolt of mixed emotion from you not
too long ago—it must’ve been during your…ah…power surge,” Harry said thoughtfully. “It nearly knocked me
down, and would have if Ron hadn’t been right behind me to catch…Ginny, baby, I’m sorry.”

Ginny began to cry again. “Oh, no! Harry, are you hurt?” Ginny’s face filled with pure horror. “This is…Harry!”
She slumped against him with a new series of pitiful sobs, clutching his now-soaked shirt, her shoulders
shaking.

“Hurt? Me? Not at all. It only felt like Dobby’s Bludger had slammed into my stomach, but otherwise, I’m fine,
love,” Harry said with a soothing tone as he planted little kisses onto the top of her head.
”Harry, I just know this is going to be in the Prophet tomorrow morning,” Ginny sobbed. “And you’re going to be
in trouble with Chief Dawlish, and… I can see the headlines now: Harry Potter’s Fiancée Unstable. Ginny Weasley
Out of Control in Diagon Alley—Mother Outraged.”

Harry began to laugh. “Ginny, you performed a great public service today! You put that Skeeter cow in her
place, and it sounds like you left her sitting in her laurels as well,” Harry said, his eyes twinkling. “And you have
appreciative witnesses, so if anything comes of it, you’ll have plenty of support. And to be honest, I think John’s
going to love it. Rita’s been known to run down the Auror Office in her day.”

“But Harry, what about the Prophet,” Ginny sniffled.

“Oh the Prophet’ll definitely eat this up, but not in the way you think. Gin, you’re a hero. The headlines should
read Harry Potter’s Fiancée Takes Out the Trash. Ginny Weasley Dishes the Dirt on Rita Skeeter—Mother
Proud.”

“You really think so,” Ginny asked him hopefully.

Harry laughed again, pulling away to look into Ginny’s moist eyes. “Absolutely. Listen, if it makes you feel any
better, you have my full support and I’m sure your brothers and Hermione will stand with us. If we have to, we’ll
send a press release through Lee, okay?”

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“O-okay. I-if you say so,” Ginny agreed wiping her eyes. “Harry, your shirt…”

“I have other shirts. Besides, I may never wash this one again. In fact, I might frame it,” he said, his green eyes
twinkling.

“Frame it? Whatever for,” Ginny asked, wiping her face on a towel.

“It’s been rinsed with the tears of the most beautiful witch in the world. It’s now priceless.” Harry turned her
face up to his and kissed the rest of her tears away. “Your tears are precious to me, Gin. And if I can help it,
there won’t be many, unless they’re happy ones. Your tears’ll be a rare commodity.” He began to chuckle at her
as an embarrassed smile crept across her face.

“You are a rare commodity—one of a kind,” she said, pulling his messy raven head down for a kiss. “And I might
frame you myself. I love you, Harry James Potter.”

”I know. Now let’s go celebrate Teddy’s first birthday.”

”Harry, Ginny! Welcome! I'm so happy the Weasleys have come, too,” Andromeda welcomed them cordially.

Moments later, Teddy came running into the hallway, if running is what one might call it. It looked more like
competitive waddling.

”Oh, he's walking and running already,” Molly exclaimed, clapping her hands to her face. ”And so soon, too!”

”Oh yes,” Andromeda said proudly. ”Dora walked early too, you know.”

”Did she really,” Molly said in awe. ”Like mother, like son.”

Harry looked at Teddy. He had grown quite a lot. The last time Harry had seen him, he was little more than a
newborn, but now he was a growing toddler. Harry got down on his knees and Teddy stopped in front of him,
holding Mrs Tonks’ skirts.

”Hello Teddy, remember me? I’m Harry, your godfather.” He has Remus’ eyes...at least he does right now.

”Pa,” Teddy asked looking at Harry before turning to Mrs Tonks.

She smiled and nodded, noticing Harry’s alarm. ”He calls every man Pa and every woman Ma,” she assured him.

Teddy changed his hair to messy, black, and long, and his eyes to emerald green. Ginny crouched down next to
Harry. ”Ma,” Teddy said. Ginny nodded while Teddy changed his hair to match Ginny's.

Just as Teddy began to open his presents, there was another knock on the door. It was Bill and Fleur, whose
belly was getting really big. Their baby was due in early May.

”Fleur, you’re perfectly radiant,” Molly beamed, carefully hugging her daughter-in-law. ”Andy, isn’t she lovely?”

”You look beautiful, Fleur. You must be very excited,” Andromeda said, hugging her.

”We are very excited. Beel has found ze most beautiful cradle in a Muggle antique shop. ’Ee ’as sharmed eet to
rock on eet’s own when ze baby is laid in eet,” Fleur told him. ”Beel is very clever.”

Teddy charmed the entire assembly, reveling in all the love and attention he received, especially from his
godfather. The others gathered round when it was time for Teddy to open his birthday presents. Ginny held the
present he and Ginny had chosen for last. They sat holding hands and exchanging anticipatory glances with one
another.

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Teddy ripped the paper off the box and Andromeda helped him open it. Inside was a toy flying broom just like
the one Sirius had given Harry on his first birthday, but this one had been manufactured by the same company
that built Ginny’s Firebolt.

It wasn't long before Teddy knew how it worked, and with Harry’s help, guidance, and attention, he coasted
about the room with his little toes dragging along the floor as though he were born to it. ”Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa,”
Teddy cried as he drifted through the room. Ginny watched as he held onto Teddy while the little boy glided only
about a foot off the floor. She smiled to herself at the sight of her beloved Harry working so well with a small
child. He had been robbed of this part of his life, yet he was such a natural with a toddler nonetheless. The rest
of the company chuckled and cheered as Teddy buzzed by, squealing with laughter.

”Harry, he’s a natural,” Arthur called from the doorway. ”He’ll be a champion Seeker one day, just wait and
see!”

” Chaser,” Ginny added, jerked from her reverie.

”Beater,” called George.

”Keeper,” called Ron.

”At this rate, he’s a one-man championship Quidditch team,” Harry replied, chuckling. ”How ’bout that, Teddy?
You’ll be indispensible!” Everyone laughed at the joke as they watched Harry play with the little boy. Even Molly
had a few tears in her eyes as she looked on.

Harry gazed at Ginny briefly as he guided Teddy in for a landing. She smiled and sent a wave through their
bond, mouthing I love you. Harry winked at her, glanced down at Teddy, and then back at her. I know, he
mouthed and lifted his mildly protesting godson off the broom.

”Off we go, now, Champ. We’ll fly again later.” Holding a squirming Teddy, he returned her wave and walked
over to deposit him in her lap. His hair immediate changed from black to red and his eyes from green to brown,
as he began to giggle and pull her hair.

”Ma!”

”You had to give him a broom,” Molly asked trying to sound sharp, but smiling at the happy boy now pulling on
her daughter’s necklace with one fist and her hair with the other.

”I can't wait to take him on a real broom.” Harry said. ”But not ’til next summer, when he’s a bit steadier.”

Hermione sighed. Of all things in the Wizarding world, she never understood the big deal about flying about on
brooms. Her gift was a children's edition of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, a book she considered essential to any
child’s beginning library. This edition was printed in English as opposed to the precious one Dumbledore had
willed her, which was printed in Ancient Runes.

”There’s a surprise,” Harry snorted good-naturedly. ”Guess what? Hermione got Teddy a book!”

”Hey,” Ron shouted, shooting a wary look at his older brother. ”What’s wrong with a book?”

”Just joking, Hermione. No offense intended,” Harry said in mock shame.

”None taken,” Hermione said airily as she gazed at Ron. I love it when he defends me.

”Thank you. Hermione. Teddy loves bedtime stories, even if he doesn’t quite understand them yet,” Mrs Tonks
said. ”And that particular volume is a classic!”

Much to just about everyone’s chagrin, Aunt Muriel arrived, blustering her way into the room. Harry almost
regretted having left his invisibility cloak at Hogwarts.”Ah, William,” she began as she stared at Fleur, ”you’d
better keep an eye on your missus. She's growing fat as a cow, you know. And Fleur,” she continued unchecked,
”soon it’ll be you giving a birthday party.”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned to Arthur and Molly. ”And how are you, Arthur? Have you brought

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home any interesting cursed Muggle items lately,” she asked snidely. Arthur appeared to ignore her, but Molly
leered angrily at her rude aunt.

Andromeda had heard plenty of stories about Mad Muriel Prewett. She already knew how unpopular she was
with the Weasleys, so she had prepared herself to get the drop on the old biddy. ”I'm Andromeda Black Tonks,
sister of the psychotic murderess, Bellatrix Black Lestrange and grandmother of the half-werewolf, Teddy Lupin.”
She had beaten Muriel Prewett to the punch and felt gratified at the snickers and giggles of those within
earshot. She had rendered Muriel Prewett speechless!

”Harry,” Aunt Muriel called cordially to get away from Andromeda as soon as possible. He shook her hand and
tried not to laugh. Andromeda’s self-introduction was perfect and Harry silently applauded her for it. One word
about Ginny’s honour or the way she dresses and I’ll nail you to the wall, you wicked old hag. I won’t be so
perfectly charming then, will I?

Soon, more guests arrived and the party began in earnest. Andromeda baked a gorgeous chocolate cake and
placed a single candle in its center. Harry held him and tried to teach Teddy to blow the candle out.

”Okay, Champ. Blow out the candle,” Harry said to Teddy, showing him what to do. Teddy just wiggled and
giggled while Harry made a complete fool of himself in front of the entire clan and their friends. Finally, the
candle burned too short, so Harry had to help the small boy blow out his candle.

”Now, as I understand it,” Harry began, jouncing Teddy on his hip. ”The birthday boy gets the first piece. Am I
right?”

”That’s right,” Hermione said. “That’s the way I was taught. Ron?”

”That’s how we always do it, right, Gin-Gin,” Ron agreed, passing the question to his sister.

”Absolutely. And no one else can eat their cake until he’s had his first bite,” Ginny said with a single nod at
Teddy.

”Well, if you’re going to volunteer to clean him up...” Andromeda said with a twinkle.

”We’ll clean him up, Andromeda,” Harry agreed. ”Won’t we, Gin?”

”Of course,” she said curtly. ”But ah...no magic.”

Harry looked up quickly at his fiancée. ”What? No ma...”

”No magic. That’s cheating,” she teased. ”Tub, water, naked baby, soap, towel, nappy, and clean pajamas.”

The assembly laughed at Harry’s new predicament, but he took it all in stride. ”Well, I guess I’ll have to learn
eventually, but I'll scourgify.” Harry sat down with Teddy in his lap. ”Okay, Teddy. Let’s see if we can keep the
mess to a minimum,” he pleaded with the child as his grandmother served him a sliver of cake. ”Here we go.”

Teddy dropped his right fist slam into the cake. ”Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa!” In minutes, the boy had covered himself and
his godfather in chocolate.

”Thanks, Teddy. You’re a real mate,” Harry said, now resigning himself to the task he agreed to.

”Care for some ice cream, Teddy,” Andromeda asked the child sadistically.

”Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma,” Teddy cried, reaching for the bowl.

”Sorry, Champ. It’s a spoon for this stuff. It’s too cold for hands,” Harry said, scooping some of the frozen
dessert onto Teddy’s little spoon. ”Open wide. Here it comes!” Teddy watched as Harry pretended to fly the ice
cream to his mouth on the spoon, and opened his mouth. Harry shoveled it in successfully. The onlookers
cheered.

”Good one, Teddy,” Ron laughed. ”You got it right the first time.”

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”Spoken like a true glutton,” Hermione giggled. ”Try again, Harry!”

”Okay, here it comes again, Ted.” Harry repeated the flying manouevre with the next bite. Teddy opened his
mouth, but just before Harry got the spoon all the way in, the little boy shut his mouth over the bowl of the
spoon and blew a raspberry. Ice cream flew all over, splattering Harry and Ginny.

”Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma,” Teddy laughed. ”Pththththt.....!”

”All right, that’s it. You’re finished,” Ginny said resignedly. ”Bath time for you, mister.” She and Harry rose from
the table with a very chocolatey little boy in Harry’s arms.

”His bath things are in the bathroom at the end of that hall, Ginny. You’ll find some nappies in there too,”
Andromeda told her.

”We’ll be back,” Harry said confidently. ”Let’s go, Champ.”

As soon as Harry and Ginny disappeared down the hall with the baby, Aunt Muriel excused herself to return
home early, citing her advanced age. Everyone knew the real truth. With that baby around, she had lost a
potential audience for her audacity. Conversation became much more relaxed Andromeda’s reports of Teddy’s
progress from infancy to toddlerhood, and advice offered to Fleur.

Harry and Ginny reappeared about half an hour later, duly scourgified, with a clean Teddy on Ginny’s hip. The
elder adults regaled them all with tales of their children as babies and toddlers, much to the chagrin of most of
the Weasley children.

Following the promised second fly around the room for the benefit of those who had missed Teddy’s first flight,
the very tired little boy, replete with messy black hair, fell asleep on the sofa with Molly's pullover as a pillow.
The toy broom lay next to him with his little fist clutched around the handle. Molly smoothed his hair and
caressed his cheek. This could easily be Harry at this age.

”How are the plans progressing? Are my Muggle targets under surveillance,” Mafalda asked her two Death Eater
servants.

”Yes, my lady. However, tailing them is more difficult than we anticipated,” the first one answered.

”Why?”

”Well...there are those Muggle photographers. Rastafaris or something like that...”

”No, stupid! Rapapazzis. That's what they call them,” the second one claimed.

”Is it really important whatever the Muggles call them,” Mafalda asked sarcastically.

Both of them looked at their leader. ”No, ma'am, it's not. I'm sorry. However, they take pictures for the Muggle
tabloids and are able to do so at a great distance. It's very difficult to keep track of them so they won't get any
pictures of us.”

”Does it affect our plan?”

”No my lady, once you give us the go-ahead, we move in, snatch our Muggle, Apparate to our target location,
and carry out your orders,” the first one said.

”If one of the Zapparappers get a picture, they won't publish it until we’ve already finished our task...and then it
won't matter.” The second servant sighed again. Sure, Muggle words were confusing, but how hard could it be?

”Good. I'm awaiting the right time to strike. With all the new Aurors together at Hogwarts, they can probably

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mount a counterstrike rather quickly. We can't move in until after Hogwarts lets out in June. In the meantime, I
will continue to confuse the Ministry. I have another plan that involves Mr Malfoy. I think it's time to for me to
see him in person. See to it. Use Hermione Granger’s plan this time. Set up a tent in a random forest. I must
admit, it was actually a brilliant way to stay hidden.”

Hermione found the constabulary that had investigated Mafalda's mother's death, since the information was all
now part of public record. With any luck, the constables and detectives in charge of the case still worked out of
there, and with a Confundus and Legilimency, they just might learn a few things not stored in the computers.
Harry, Hermione and Ron dressed in Muggle clothes and planned to head out right after breakfast Monday
morning. Even if it was early in April, it felt very much like spring. Winter didn’t have a strong foothold this
year.

Professor McGonagall had allowed Hermione the day off, and that worried Hermione more than going on a
mission. ”How will I get a NEWT if I don't study, and even worse, miss my classes?”

Ron sighed. ”I'll help you study, all right?”

Hermione laughed. ”Exactly how will you help me with Ancient Runes and History of Magic? That's what I miss
today.”

”What a loss that is,” Ron sighed. ”I’m going with Harry to see Hagrid. Ginny might join us too. Harry wants to
ask him if he will teach him to drive the motorcycle. That way, I'll help you loads on your studies by staying out
of your way.”

Hermione smiled. ”I'll give you lesson one right now, Ron. It's called riding a bike, not driving a motorcycle.”

After breakfast, Harry, Ron and Hermione headed for the gate in order to escape the wards. They Apparated to a
small town and soon found the police station. Hermione entered with Harry and Ron two steps behind her.

”Hello, sir,” Hermione greeted a young policeman, most certainly never addressed as sir, and gave him a sweet
smile.

”Ma'am,” he replied.

Hermione scanned the list of policemen working at the station. Homicide listed only one name, an inspector.

”I would like to see Inspector Brown,” she said. In the same moment Harry cast a non verbal Confundus at the
policeman.

”Second floor, third office to the right,” he replied and answered the phone that hadn’t rung.

It was a pleasure to watch Hermione pull this act off. Even if she considered herself a bookworm, she was
brilliant at operations like this. She never got nervous, or if she did, she never showed it. They headed for the
second floor and found Inspector Brown. ”Good morning, sir. We need a few minutes of your time,” Hermione
said politely.

He invited them in and closed the door. Harry was amazed at how smoothly the ruse had played out so far.
Harry had been tempted to use the Imperius curse to comply with the Secrecy Act, but he had forbidden his
team to use it, so he wasn’t going to either. A strong Confundus charm would do just as well and there would be
no paperwork involved.

”Confundo,” Harry muttered, casting the charm. The inspector’s eyes slipped out of focus, so there would be no
problem getting him to do what they needed him to do. He nodded to Hermione to confirm the inspector was
hers.

”All right, Inspector Brown. I need to see everything you have on the murder of a Mrs Prewett a few years ago,”
Hermione ordered.

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”I remember that one. I handled the investigation myself. We never found a single trace of evidence and no
cause of death. It's the biggest mystery this town has ever seen.”

Inspector Brown tapped at the keyboard and printed a few pages and handed them over to Hermione. Next, she
asked him to look for Mr Prewett. He gave them a last-known address, but it was listed three years before. After
that, she told him to log out of the system. She, Harry and Ron read the report. It was an obvious case of a
victim murdered by use of the killing curse. Mrs Prewett’s remains showed no signs of trauma, no toxins in her
blood or tissue, no evidence of sexual abuse, no evidence whatsoever that she should be dead.

Her wedding ring was still on her finger, her pocketbook contained a fair amount of cash, her home had not
been ransacked, nothing appeared to be missing, she had no outstanding debts, and no criminal record. There
was no motive and no reason that this woman should have ended up dead. That was all the file contained. For a
wizard, this was an obvious case of murder by the killing curse. Of course, Mafalda and the Death Eaters
involved would have no interest in Muggle valuables, so it stood to reason that nothing was taken.

While Harry still held Inspector Brown Confunded, Ron cast Legilimens to find out what Brown had experienced
while he investigated the murder.
Inspector Brown swore. He had been on his way home to his wife's wonderful cooking, when he was called to a
crime scene, a suspected murder no less. Brown couldn't remember when there was a murder last in this town.
He had worked on the force in London and was the only one here who had ever actually investigated a murder
case. Thinking of it, he remembered being told there had been a murder here during the war, some nutter who
was convinced his neighbour was a German spy. Well, at least that was the story at first, until the police broke
into the suspect's house and found him in bed with the neighbour's wife. Yes, that was the last murder. Of all the
times for another one, it had to be now. Bloody hell!
Inspector Brown stopped at the address he'd been given and stepped out of his car. Surely they could have
gotten the people on duty to follow the field manual and conduct a proper crime scene investigation. But the chief
had been very specific when he ordered him to report to the place on the double. Bollocks!
After a few minutes at the scene, Brown started to understand his chief. Normally when someone was murdered
in their home, there was some kind of evidence of violence. In this case, there wasn't. It was like she had fallen
asleep on the floor. Clearly the murderer must be a friend or a relative because there were no signs of a
break-in. Even though it was the doctor's task to determine the cause of death, one could usually get a good idea
at the scene. Someone shot in the head, strangled, beaten to death, or whatever showed evidence of it. A doctor
would use other expressions, 'shot in the head' was called 'severe trauma to the brain.”
Mrs Prewett’s body showed no signs of violence of any kind. Mr Brown wondered why they suspected a murder.
Wasn't it more likely she was stoned and killed herself with an overdose? No, some neighbours had heard raised
voices and seen some shady people leave the place. That's when they called the police.
The murder of Mrs Prewett hit dead ends everywhere. All substance tests came back negative. The doctors were
gob smacked, and even an ambitious expert brought in from London had to confess his defeat on this one. It was
with a lot of frustration that Inspector Brown finally closed the file and called off the investigation. The only thing
he could do now was put out an alert for the daughter and the husband. They were both missing, and of course
he wanted to interrogate them. But they weren't suspects so he couldn't issue a warrant for their arrest either.
Bugger!

Ron left Inspector Brown's mind and Harry lifted his Confundus charm. Hermione cast a memory charm to erase
the inspector’s memory of them ever having visited. They left before Inspector Brown startled back to reality
from what he thought was his mind drifting away. He took a sip of the coffee on his desk. It was cold. Didn't he
just pour it a minute ago? His mind must have drifted longer than he thought. He smiled as he looked at the
warm spring day outside and got up to get another cup of hot coffee.

Harry, Ron and Hermione left the police station with the report and Apparated to the Ministry of Magic. They
changed into robes and for the first time, Harry and Ron put on the Auror insignia. They headed for the Auror
office to talk about what they had learned along with Chief Dawlish.

”Obviously, Mafalda killed her own mother using the killing curse,” Ron claimed.

”Or Tom had a Death Eater do it for her, but it does seem fitting that she did it herself, with Riddle encouraging
her to do it,” Hermione agreed.

”However we don't have any evidence,” Harry sighed.

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”True, but if necessary, it's enough to bring her in for questioning,” Dawlish said. ”I'll issue the orders just in
case. Any luck finding her father?”

”All we got on him was a three-year-old address, but we’ll check it out,” Ron said.

”Good work. What the Muggle police report doesn't say really says it all, doesn’t it,” Dawlish said sighing down at
the documents.

After lunch with Arthur and Percy at the Ministry, they returned to Hogwarts. Hermione was overjoyed to be
back in time for her History of Magic class, while Harry and Ron had to write their mission report. They didn't
look forward to it, but they could think of changing places with Hermione and listen to Professor Binns for three
hours, instead of sitting in the Hogwarts grounds enjoying the sun. They chose to write their reports outside in
the sun.

”Mr Malfoy, you have a visitor,” a secretary told him. She was the one person making his very boring work at
the Muggleworthy Excuse Office worth getting up for every morning. Her name was Astoria Greengrass and she
was two years younger than he. She was one of the Slytherins who chose not to return to Hogwarts. Instead,
she had got crappy employment at the Ministry. Draco had not known her very well at Hogwarts, because she
was two years behind him. He knew of her sister, Daphne because she was in his year, also a Slytherin.

Being the only Slytherins in the office, they had started to talk during breaks and over lunch together. They
both knew being assigned to the Muggleworthy Excuse Office was an inviolable way of insulting them. No
Slytherin wanted to work with Muggle business. Despite their hard work, neither of them were really trusted by
their colleagues. On the other hand, no one treated them badly in any way.
Draco had asked her out on Valentine's Day, more out of friendship than any other reason. That date had
nonetheless made both of them consider the other as more just colleagues or friends. He had, however, not
asked her for a date.

The visitor was unknown to Malfoy. ”I'm here on behalf of my lady,” he said plainly, ”and I bring a gift.” The
unknown visitor placed a rock on the desk. ”This rock is from Azkaban. I suggest you take it as a reminder,” he
hissed and nodded towards the rock.

Malfoy had a bad feeling about this, but had no choice but to accept the rock. Not too surprised, he felt a jerk
from behind his navel. The rock had been a Portkey that landed him in the main room of a tent. ”There's no
need trying to escape Mr Malfoy,” a female voice said behind him. ”The wards around this tent are in place. Of
course, there's no need trying to figure out where we are. Once you leave, we will take down the tent and be
gone.”

Draco slowly turned around and looked upon a girl about the same age as Astoria. But this one he didn't
recognise from Hogwarts. He was certain of that. Of course there were a lot of girls in the other houses, but
there was something about this girl. He would have remembered meeting her before, but still there was
something familiar about her. ”Have we met before,” he asked.

”No, but I've visited your family's manor,” she replied.

Malfoy realised who she was. This was the mysterious guest Voldemort had chose never to bring into the room,
the unknown Death Eater. ”Who are you?”

”I'm Mafalda Prewett.”

”You knew the Dark Lord,” Malfoy partially asked, partially concluded.

”Yes, I knew the Dark Lord very well. He was my tutor.”

Malfoy evaluated his situation. He couldn't do anything but play along. He was most certainly in a remote area
in a tent protected by every ward. ”Why have you brought me here?”

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So, this was the one. The Death Eater supposedly interested in taking over the Ministry. ”Look Miss Prewett. I
can't get you into the Ministry.”

”I don't need your help to get into the Ministry. I want you to deliver a letter. To Harry Potter. Don't worry, it's
not cursed. I merely wanted to congratulate him as we're becoming family. Yes, I'm a relative of Ginny
Weasley.”

Malfoy didn't believe a word of what she said. But he had no options. ”So why don't use an owl? I'm sure Lee
Jordan would send a letter from you on to Potter.”

”You are of course right. But I wanted to meet you. There's one thing I wanted to ask you face to face.”

Malfoy looked at her for a while. ”Mafalda. I do sense your attempts to break into my mind.”

She showed no sign of being offended. ”Good. I wanted to be sure you did. I also sense you trying to read my
mind.”

”Worth a try,” Malfoy shrugged.

”I was taught by the Dark Lord himself.”

”Well, I was taught by Professor Snape, who deceived the Dark Lord for many years,” Malfoy challenged. ”Was
there anything else on your mind than asking me to serve as your owl?”

”There is one more thing. Potter is trying to interfere with my plans. I need you to stop him.”

”I won't kill him. Not that I'd mourn his death, but I can't afford any crimes.”

”No, of course not. All I need is the date of his wedding. I know he'll be busy that day. Will you help me,”
Mafalda asked.

Malfoy thought about it. ”What would I gain from helping you?”

”A better job.”

”You know, Mafalda, Potter's wedding is probably one of the most secure arrangements in the country. I'm not a
person anyone would tell.”

Mafalda had thought of that. Malfoy could see it in her smile. ”Then you'll have to ask someone who has surely
been invited, who is not a person. That oaf, Hagrid, is notorious for his inability to keep a secret.”

”I'll see what I can do, because Hagrid is protected too. I'm not exactly welcome at Hogwarts and breaking in
there is as difficult as breaking into Gringotts.”

Mafalda seemed pleased and nodded towards a rubber glove. ”That glove is your port key out of here. Someone
will contact you.”

Malfoy grabbed the glove and was returned to London. A while later, he returned to the Ministry, his mind
wandering as he headed for his desk. What had he learned? Mafalda was very intelligent. Clearly her identity
was already known by Potter. Nothing she told him would probably matter to her if he told Potter. She would
most certainly suspect a false date and a trap. Was that was she was hoping for? Emptying the Ministry to
mount an attack? Malfoy came to a conclusion. Mafalda wanted to put him to the test. Where did his loyalties
lie? So far he had been able to balance between them. Could he keep that up or did he have to decide?

His thought were interrupted by Astoria. ”Mr Malfoy. I never saw you leave.”

He looked at her. He had to think about his next cause of action concerning Mafalda, but now it was time to do
something about Astoria. ”Please, it's Draco, at least when it's just the two of us. Mr Malfoy still makes me think
someone is talking to my father.”

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”Draco,” she smiled. ”I like that. Very forceful. Very...”

”Astoria,” Draco began nervously, his hands jammed in his pockets. We’ve shared a lot of lunches together,
but... I... I wanted to ask you if you'd like to have dinner with me tonight... as a date... a dinner date... unless
you...”

Astoria looked at Draco and nodded. ”I'd like that very much.”

”You would? I mean... thanks,” Draco stammered.

”Draco?”

”Yes?”

”What time should I expect you and do you know where I live?” She had one of those smiles—the kind that says
I know you’re nervous and I think it’s cute.

”Oh, right. Uh...I can get your address from your file, but I’d rather you gave it to me yourself,” he replied,
regaining some of his Malfoy confidence. ”How about seven?”

”Seven is fine.” She wrote on a bit of parchment and handed it to him. ”You can Floo in if you like or...Apparate.
Whichever you like. My sister won’t be home this evening.”

Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione knocked at Hagrid's door that evening.

”Oh, it's you. Come on in, you lot.” The big man ushered them in. Hagrid pushed Fang away to make room for
them at his table. Soon he served a cup of tea. ”Ginny, I watched yer practice with the team. We’ll win the
ruddy House Cup. Me firs’ year as Head o' Gryffindor an' all,” Hagrid beamed, his beetle eyes shining.

”We'll do our best,” Ginny promised.

”All you need to do is beat Slytherin in the next game. You have a chance to beat the record as the best team
ever,” Harry said. He was right. Slytherin had only lost against Gryffindor. If Gryffindor beat Slytherin, the
House Cup would be theirs. The final game against Ravenclaw wouldn't matter. However, Ginny and her Chasers
had scored a lot, in fact, so many goals that they had a chance to break the record.

Harry turned to Hagrid. ”You know Sirius’ bike. Arthur repaired it and gave it to me. However I can't drive... ride
it... and you're the only one I know who can. Would you teach me, Hagrid?”

Hagrid looked at Harry. He reminded him of Professor Dumbledore more and more. Who else would ask someone
like Hagrid for help, other than someone like Harry Potter or Albus Dumbledore?

”O' course I'll teach yer,” Hagrid promised.

”Great! Thanks! Do you think we can hide it in the Forest?”

”Sure. No problem,” Hagrid said, encouraged by the idea. There had been very little rule-breaking lately. It felt
rather refreshing to sneak an enchanted motorcycle into the forest.

”Why don't you just ask Professor McGonagall for permission,” Hermione asked.

”Because it's an illegal cursed object she'd have to hand over to the Ministry,” Harry explained.

”And as such, it would end up at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office where Dad used to work,” Ron continued,
considering the possibility that there might be another such object locked up there. No way, Weasley. Even if
there was, you couldn’t get at it...or could you?

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”All right. I'll help you,” Hermione sighed.

”Thanks love,” Ron said, kissing her cheek. ”I know I can always count on you.”

On the way back to the castle, Harry decided to put the Aurors to work. He would send them out to gather
information about Mafalda's father. Whatever he might know could be very useful in the apprehension of his
daughter.

Chapter 17: Perspectives


[View Online] [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Chapter 17 - Perspectives

Harry Potter stared at the Elder Wand. It had been a long time since he’d taken it out. As far as he was
concerned, it was dangerous—but he was its master, like it or not. He turned it over in his fingers, studying it’s
texture and odd shape. A slight tingle ran up his arms as he contemplated it, trying to decide what he should do
with it. He’d planned to return it to the one he considered its rightful owner, but he hadn’t. He knew now that it
had little or nothing to do with his increased power, but its sordid history bothered him.

He hadn’t heard Ginny come into the room, so when she stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around
his chest, he startled a little, but didn’t say anything. Harry just kept gazing at the object in his hands. Ginny
knew that wand—possessing it—bothered him, so she was curious as to why he toyed with it now.

”A Sickle for your thoughts, my love,” she said, kissing his cheek. When she saw the physical embodiment of
those thoughts, she sighed. ”I thought you'd get rid of that thing, especially after...”

”I know. I think it's dangerous to use, but I'm tempted, Gin,” Harry almost whispered. He felt a little ashamed at
the very thought of using the Elder Wand—the Deathstick.

She moved from behind him and sat down. She took his hand and began to massage it gently. Then she looked
up into his eyes. ”Tell me.”

”I can't pinpoint what's wrong with the idea that Mafalda would attack the Ministry. I just feel that her plan is
something else. However, I have no proof,” he said like a lament.

”Could you get your proof if you used the Elder Wand,” Ginny asked. She had a way of helping him answer
many of his own questions and face his own fear and doubt by asking just the right questions in just the right
order. She had such a grasp on reason, Harry couldn’t help but marvel at her.

”I don't know. Our magic has become more powerful after that bond formed between us. I just thought I might
be able to perform even more powerful magic with the Elder wand,” Harry said. ”I thought I might be able to use
Legilimency to enter Mafalda's mind, even if I don’t know where she is.”

Ginny looked worried. ”Isn't that dangerous?”

”I did it against Riddle, but that was different.” Harry admitted. ”But yes, it could be dangerous. He was able to
use Legilimency to deceive me by luring me...us...to the Department of Mysteries that night, but he also allowed
me to know that he had sent Nagini to kill your dad. It saved his life. I’m thinking that I might be able to take
Mafalda by surprise, much the same way.”

”What other options are there?” Ginny continued to massage Harry’s hand and question him through his
dilemma.

”Hope that we locate Mafalda's father and learn something valuable from him. And we still might be able to use
Malfoy, since he has connections with the Death Eaters. The problem is that there are too many unknowns. Both
the Auror Office and the Death Eaters are trying to outsmart each other, and in between stands Malfoy serving
as some kind of double-agent, with both sides aware of that.

”What a mess,” Ginny said. ”So that’s the real problem, isn’t it? So many possibilities with no absolute leads.”

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”Yes, it really is. That's why this ruddy wand is so tempting. What if it’s a simple, quick, and safe way to uncover
Mafalda's plans and finally bring her in? I may have the power to end this now, without anyone getting hurt. If
we continue the game and end up outsmarted and outmanoeuvred, we could all be killed.”

The thought of losing any more of the people he cared about to the evil influence of Voldemort nauseated Harry.
He’d had enough bloodshed. Another slide show played through his mind. James and Lily. Cedric. Sirius.
Dumbledore. Hedwig. Moody. Dobby. Fred. Remus and Tonks. Colin. Even the traitorous coward, Peter
Pettigrew.

Ginny leaned over and put her arms around her beloved Harry and hugged him. ”What does your heart tell
you,” she asked.
Damn, she’s good. Harry didn’t have to think too hard on Ginny’s ultimate question, because he’d long ago
realised that he needed only to search his heart for the answers. His mind had far too often betrayed him. ”That
the Elder Wand is a last resort, I'm not there quite yet...and that I love you very much.”

Ginny smiled. ”Well, then. You’ve solved your own dilemma. Your noble heart tells you to exhaust any and all
conventional means before you resort to...drastic measures,” she summarized, nodding at the oddly-shaped
wand. ”And I love you very much.” She gave him a sweet kiss and Harry put the Elder Wand away.

Harry headed to his office at the Ministry the next day. He found a letter addressed to him in unknown
handwriting laying on his desk. He was just about to pick it up and open it, when he stopped, his fingers barely
an inch from it. He had a bad feeling about it, so he stepped back out into the corridor to find someone who
might have some idea where the letter came from and how it got there. He stopped Williamson as he was
coming out of the men’s loo.

”Williamson,” Harry called.

”Potter. What can I do for you,” Williamson answered as he walked toward Harry.

”There's a letter on my desk addressed simply, Harry Potter. Someone must have delivered it personally there.
You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it would you?”

”Blimey, Potter, you didn't open it...or even touch it, did you?”

”No, I got a really bad feeling about it.”


”Good call! A couple of years ago, there was an accident in another department with a cursed letter. St Mungo's
had a lot to do to get that mess sorted out.” Williamson shook his head, but chuckled a little bit. ”We’d better
have it checked.”

Chief Dawlish, Harry, and Williamson performed all kinds of curse-breaking spells and detection charms on the
letter and after an hour, they concluded it was an ordinary letter, free of any dark magic or dangerous
substances.

”Sure,” Harry asked as he made to pick it up. ”If it doesn't kill me, Ginny certainly will if I end up at St
Mungo's.” Dawlish and Williamson laughed as Harry opened it. Nothing happened, so he read the fairly short
letter.

”Dear Harry,
As your future wife is my third cousin, I thought it would be proper, if a bit late, to welcome you to the family. I
know you have heard about me, although we haven't had the pleasure to be properly introduced. I'm Mafalda
Prewett. We have something in common, you and I, Harry. We are probably the only two people alive who knew
the Dark Lord best. I also think we can agree that his goals were wrong.
I learned that you became an Auror. It surprises me that you would work for the very organization that
discredited you, even incriminated you. I think there is a lot we could talk about and learn from each other, but I
find it hard to believe that such a discussion should ever take place by any other means than one of us as the
other's prisoner. Regretfully, I might add.

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I am not your enemy. I have no wish to harm you or anyone dear to you. I'm mot the Dark Lord, and I'm not
Bellatrix Lestrange. As you probably suspect, though, I do have an agenda. To avoid unnecessary confrontation, I
would advise you to resign and live the way a wealthy man like you should, instead of risking your life. After you
and Cousin Ginny are married, I’m sure you plan to start a family. I know you wouldn’t want to leave a widow
and orphaned children behind.
Yours sincerely,
Mafalda”

”Is this a joke,” Dawlish asked angrily, after Harry finished reading. ”The ponce who wrote this letter will be
permanently removed from this office!”

Harry read the letter again. Friendly but threatening. Why would she write such a letter? “Malfoy,” Harry said,
grabbing a quill and memorandum form. He sent Draco an internal memo that he was coming to see him on the
double. ”I think he might know about that letter. In fact, I’ll just about bet that he delivered it.”

Harry hurried toward the Muggleworthy Excuse Office with Dawlish on his heels. ”Harry, talk to me. I don't get
it. It's insane.”

Harry stopped and looked pointedly at his boss. ”Yes, it might seem insane to you, but Mafalda seems to be the
kind of person who has a reason for everything she does. She would have learned that from her mentor. There
is a reason she wrote me this letter, how she wrote it, and how she had it delivered.”

Harry and Dawlish continued to Malfoy’s office. The staff were startled when the two leading Aurors stormed in
at full tilt. One member’s eyes bugged out of his head when Harry approached him. ”I need to see Mr Malfoy,”
Harry demanded, although politely.

The frightened man swallowed hard and pointed toward a desk. ”R-right over there, A-assistant Head, s-sir,” the
man stammered and backed away. If that’s a kid, I’m a ruddy Grindylow.

”Thank you,” Harry said with a polite nod and strode purposefully to the desk the bug-eyed man pointed toward,
with the Head still behind him.

Harry approached Draco’s desk and without a greeting, began to question him. ”Malfoy, did you meet with
Mafalda Prewett and drop a letter from her on my desk?”

”Yes, Potter, I did,” Draco answered, sounding a bit annoyed.

”Tell me. What kind of person is she?”

”To tell you the truth Potter, there's only one person I would compare her with. No matter how much it pains me
to admit it, I must confess that Mafalda reminds me of Granger. Brilliant, organized, powerful—but very evil. I
wasn't exactly in a position to refuse that letter.”

It took about half an hour, but Malfoy reported everything he knew about the meeting in the tent to Harry and
Chief Dawlish.

”Hmm. The question is...is this Mafalda's plan? To have you tell us this,” Harry pondered out loud.

”She’s out of your league,” Malfoy said with his characteristic sneer. ”Your mum protected you against the
Dar—Voldemort, otherwise you'd be dead already. This time you're on your own against someone much smarter
than you, Potter.”
So that's what she's after. She wants to make us think we can't get to her. ”Well, she might have been tutored
by Tom Riddle, Malfoy, but I was tutored by the only wizard he ever feared, Albus Dumbledore.”

Tension hung in the air in the Muggleworthy Excuse Office, but at the mere mention of the former headmaster's
name, relief flooded over the office and someone began to applaud Harry. Soon the entire staff joined in, except
for Malfoy and Dawlish. Dawlish was affected by the moment too, although more awed by Harry’s bold statement
than Malfoy’s dismay with it.

”Come on, Harry. Let's bring her down and then to justice,” the Head Auror said, slapping Harry on the back.

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Harry turned back to Malfoy. ”I expect a report at my desk before you leave this building today.” As an Assistant
Head of the Auror Office, Harry held the authority to demand reports from any Ministry employee if said reports
concerned a working case. Without another word, he and Dawlish strode out of the department, not
acknowledging any accolades the staff still offered. He still didn’t like Draco Malfoy, but he had no intention of
humiliating him or undermining any authority he may have over that office.
Harry and Dawlish returned to the Auror Office, where they found Ron waiting for them. They wanted to meet
with the Minister before they made their next move.

”You went to see Malfoy about a letter,” Ron asked. ”What did the letter say?”

”It was from Mafalda Prewett. It was friendly enough—congratulations on my engagement to Ginny, welcomes to
the family, blah, blah, blah,” Harry replied, rolling his eyes. ”Then she tried to tell me she isn’t my enemy, but
at the same time told me I should resign before I leave a widow and orphans behind.” Harry shook his head at
his partner and they both shared a snicker.

”Potter. Weasley. The Minister’s waiting for us,” Chief Dawlish said, urging them into the conference room. ”Let’s
get going.”

”Right, sir,” Ron said, raising his tall frame off the chair he’d been lounging in. ”After you, partner.”

The Head Auror, the Assistant Head Auror, and their best tactician sat down at the conference table with the
Minister, each shaking his hand in turn.

”So Harry, what did you find out from our friend, Mr Malfoy,” Kingsley asked as he conjured a pitcher of cold
water and four glasses. ”Anything helpful?”

”Well, first of all, Malfoy compared Mafalda with Hermione. He does know that Hermione is by far the brightest
witch of our age, and I must tell you he didn't like admitting that,” Harry said, shooting a quick glance at Ron,
who muttered something that sounded like slimy git under his breath. ”Kingsley, I would like to get Hermione's
perspective on that letter. If there are any clues to be found lurking between the lines, Hermione can find
them.”

Dawlish nodded in agreement. ”I only wish that she was an Auror too,” he sighed. ”I heard she's going to the
Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. A noble work, but a waste of talent, if you ask
me.” Dawlish looked at Ron as if he could change it.

”Hey, don't look at me. I'm not stupid enough to question her career choice,” Ron said defensively with his
hands up as though warding his boss off.

”Harry, go ahead and have Hermione take a look at the letter,” Kingsley smiled, noting the fear and awe
Hermione's brilliance caused even her fiancé. ”Where do we stand otherwise?”

”We have people looking for anything they can find on Mafalda's father. It's a long shot, but if we do find him,
we might learn something useful,” Dawlish said with a modicum of doubt.

”I have this annoying thought I can't get out of my head,” Harry interjected. ”Why would Mafalda try to take
over the Ministry? Surely she doesn't have the resources or manpower Riddle had, because so many of those
who might support her are locked up or dead. She can't have rallied that many people to a lost cause.”

Kingsley considered Harry's question. It seemed reasonable that the whole idea of taking over the Ministry
might be a ruse after all. ”Then what do you think her goal is?”

”We talked about it recently with Hermione. Her idea was that Mafalda would work to undermine us rather than
attack us, using the our own system against us, by... let's say flooding the Muggles with cursed objects to keep
us busy until we collapse. I know it sounds crazy but...”

Kingsley interrupted Harry. ”The Muggles. They are surely much safer targets to hit. And she probably knows
about every action the Ministry would take. I agree. With limited resources, she probably will use Muggles to
destroy our infrastructure while we drown in our own excessive paperwork and strangle on the red tape.”

”One little problem. Where will she strike, when, and to achieve exactly what? We're getting nowhere,” Dawlish

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said.

”Tabloids,” Harry said flatly. ”Gossip magazines and newspapers.”

”What,” Kingsley asked, taken off-guard.

”Our weakness is Muggles, but it’s hers is too. She doesn't give them any credit at all. My Aunt Petunia used to
enjoy reading tabloids. They’re full of celebrity gossip columns and outrageous articles about all kinds of weird
things written by people like Rita Skeeter. Surely Mafalda must have sent people into the Muggle community to
study it in order to formulate her plans. If there's one place we can find any loose ends, I’d bet Merlin’s blaze-
orange socks it's in the tabloids,” Harry said animatedly.

”But we don’t have the time...” Dawlish began.

”Just hear me out, Chief. We dig up as many of the past year's issues of the major Muggle tabloids as we can
find and bring them in to the Auror Office. Since my aunt read just about every one of them, I know their titles
and I can make a list. We can assign a team of those not looking for Mafalda's father to read them and glean as
much information from them as they can—no matter how outrageous it appears.”

”You know, Harry, that’s crazy enough to be something a genius like Mafalda might not have thought of,” Ron
said snickering again. ”Ratted out by the Muggle press!”

”Are you saying that I outsmarted her by being stupid,” Harry asked mockingly with his Harry-grin.

”Well, let's not jump to conclusions, but sure,” Ron replied in mock sarcasm with his own signature lopsided
grin.

”I honestly don't know whether I should thank you for your support or curse you, Weasley,” Harry laughed,
flicking some water from his glass at his partner.

”Hey,” Ron said, wiping his face. ”That’s just wrong, Potter.”

Harry's plan seemed to be a good one. The tabloids from the end of the war were chock-full of unexplained
mysteries. Comparing the Muggle tabloid reports with what they knew truly happened in the Wizarding world,
the tabloids unwittingly had the goings-on in the Wizarding world well-covered. Of course, without a clue what
they actually were writing about, it all appeared as qualified rubbish.
After classes, Hermione and Ginny arrived at the Ministry bearing food for their super-sleuths.

”You're a lifesaver, ’Mione,” Ron said gratefully, giving her a sound kiss. He dug in, while he perused the Muggle
tabloids.

Harry took Ginny in his arms and gave her a welcome kiss as soon as she unburdened herself. ”Mm...you’re
beautiful today,” he said. ”And thanks. We haven’t had much time to eat.”

”Eat then,” Ginny said, breaking his embrace. ”Save the romance for later.”

”Hmm...food, Ginny, food, Ginny,” Harry teased.

”Food! Eat,” she ordered him, shoving him into a chair.

”Okay, okay. I’m eating,” Harry laughed as he took a bit of a sandwich. ”See?”

”Harry...” Ginny said, pointing her finger. She looked a lot like her mother at that moment.

Harry handed the letter to Hermione. ”If we ever needed your wits, it's now.”

”Why, Harry? What’s going on,” Hermione asked, taking a sip of the pumpkin juice they’d brought along. She
began to scan Mafalda’s letter.

”Malfoy met Mafalda. He said she's an evil version of you—intelligent and organized.”

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”Draco said that,” Hermione asked with raised eyebrows and a shocked expression.

Harry nodded. He returned to the tabloids.

”Harry, Love, why are you reading these piles of Muggle newspapers,” Ginny asked, flipping through one of
them. ”They’re mental!”

”They’re mental on the surface, Gin, but read a little closer. You’ll find that they’re full of stuff about the
war—disappearances, mysterious deaths, unexplained phenomena, odd sightings, that kind of stuff. The Muggles
call it tabloid journalism because it’s supposedly far-fetched nonsense, but the tabloid press don’t realise they
were covering a Wizarding war,” Harry explained. ”We’re hoping to find out Mafalda’s plans based on what we
find here. So far, it’s panned out a bit.”

”Really,” Ginny said, knitting her eyebrows. ”It just looks like a load of rubbish to me.” She continued to leaf
through a few of them just to see what Muggles write about.

”For Muggles, it’s entertainment,” Harry said sarcastically.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny continued to read the tabloids while Hermione studied the letter. The only sounds were
those of eating, drinking, flipping pages, and the occasional scratch of quill on parchment. The four of them were
intent on the work when the door opened and a voice startled them all. ”What is it, Smith,” Harry asked as he
re-swallowed his heart.

”Sorry to have startled you all, sir, but we have Mr Prewett.”

Draco Malfoy decided he couldn’t go straight home. He needed to think. He had a lousy job that was far beneath
him as a Malfoy and as a wizard. He found himself accountable to Harry Potter, for crying out loud. Is this the
kind of life he wanted for himself? The only good thing that appeared to have come from all of this was Astoria
Greengrass. His dinner date with her the night before was nothing short of amazing. She was the only good
thing in his life now, since the war.

The alternative was mildly tempting, but he still knew nothing of Mafalda’s plans or goals, or even if her world
could be any better. She all but promised him a better job, but she was the apprentice to Voldemort and he
promised a lot of things too. But what of those promises? Lies. All lies. His family had been essentially
destroyed, their name rubbish. His father sat rotting in Azkaban, his mother was a broken woman, and he,
Draco, found himself awash in mindless paperwork in a mindless dead-end job at the mindless freaking Ministry.

The upside, if there was one, was that he was free to make his own choices—his own decisions. Nobody thrusting
their agenda at him. He had taken charge of his life for the first time and, dammit, he liked it that way. He knew
what he wanted and he was going after it. Anyone who disagreed could go straight to hell, for all he cared.
He knew he needed to see her. He walked on, beginning to feel a little better about himself. He found the house
and approached the door. He picked up the heavy brass knocker and rapped it against the door. He could hear
someone coming from the other side. Please let her be home.

”Draco?”
Thank Merlin! May I come in, please?”

”Of course.” Astoria smiled as he entered her home. She closed the door behind him and invited him to the
living room. ”Please, sit down.” She gestured to a loveseat in front of the fire, he on one end, she on the other.

”I have to sort my thoughts. Is that all right,” he asked nervously.

”Of course it is. My parents aren't at home, and Daphne’s out with friends, so we won't be disturbed.” Astoria
watched him as he tried to make himself comfortable. She knew Draco Malfoy had had a rough time. He wanted
so hard to fit in, she could tell that. He needed peace—something she wondered if he’d ever really known before.
He hurt so much and needed a friend so desperately. She wanted to be that friend and was willing to listen to
anything he had to say and even comfort him if need be.

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Draco leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and his chin resting on his clasped hands. ”My parents,
especially my father, raised me on the whole Pureblood supremacy thing. I guess I still believe in that, but I’ve
learned that sometimes there are exceptions to every rule,” he admitted. ”With my father’s blind devotion to
Voldemort, there were no gray areas, no room for anything but absolutes. In the end...” Draco shook his head,
at a loss for further thought and dropped him forehead onto his hands, as if praying for the strength to go on.

Astoria didn’t offer any comment. He needed a sounding board right now, not a mentor, so she just listened. She
knew enough about the Malfoys to know that humility wasn’t their long suit. She watched him as he struggled
with his thoughts. How could a man as gorgeous as Draco Malfoy be so sad?

Draco rested his chin once more on his hands and continued. ”I always thought Professor Dumbledore was weak,
constantly talking about love. But during and after the war, I learned a thing or two. When my mother lied to
Voldemort about Potter being dead that night, she did that out of her love for me. Snape, the man I had admired
for his strength, had done everything he did out of love for a woman he could never have,” Draco said
regretfully. ”It took me a while to realise, but Potter placed a lily on Snape's coffin for a good reason. His
mother's name was Lily—Potter’s, I mean. I found out Snape had been in love with her since they were
children.”

Draco paused again and took a deep, if ragged, breath. He stared into the fireplace for a few moments, again to
collect his thoughts. Astoria wasn’t sure where he was going with all of this, but it tore at her heart. She had all
she could do to keep from reaching out to touch him, to take his hands in hers. She blinked back tears that
stung her eyes.

”Astoria, I was dragged into a horrible mess and I have tried for months to make the right choices. I'm trapped
between Mafalda and Potter, but this afternoon, I realised I don't have to choose between those two. I... choose
you.” Draco looked over at her, his gray eyes bright and sincere.

Astoria was overwhelmed, but gave him a smile as a stray tear escaped down her cheek. ”Draco, I...” she began.
”I don’t know what to say. I...I’d dreamed that...that we could be more than friends, but I didn’t dare hope...”

Draco gently took her hand. ”I’ve felt so empty, but now...since last night... You fill that emptiness, Astoria. I
feel whole when I’m with you. I have no idea where my life is headed right now, but I know that I want to share
that journey with you.” Draco kissed the hand he held. ”Do you know that I actually look forward to coming to
work because I know you’re going to be there?”

”You do? So do I,” she said with a tearful little laugh. ”Draco, I’ll be at your side as long as you want me to be.
I’ll be your friend, your confidant, your...”

”Love,” Draco finished, pulling her over next to him, gazing intently into her eyes. She’s got to be the most
beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

”If you wish,” she said, blushing, as tears began to flow. He loves me?

”I wish,” he said softly. Slowly, ever so slowly, they leaned into another, each of them willing prisoners of the
other’s gaze. They paused, their lips barely an inch apart. ”I wish.” Draco took her face in his hands and pressed
his lips to hers.
Astoria let out a quiet sob and melted into his embrace. She held him close, stroking his platinum blond hair,
meeting his desperate kisses, as if to draw out all the pain and despair he’d been carrying for so long. She pulled
back for a moment to gaze into his gray depths. ”You’ll never be alone again, Draco Abraxas Malfoy. Never.” She
captured his lips again.

Draco pulled away. ”Hang on. How did you know my middle name?”

”How do I know your middle name? How do I know your first name is really Draconius,” she giggled. ”Draco, I’m
your secretary. I know loads of things about you. You have a personnel file, you know.”

He began to laugh and it felt so liberating. ”Please don’t ever call me Draconius. I hate it—almost as much as I

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hate Abraxas. My git of a paternal grandfather carried that name all his life.”

”Your secret’s safe with me. Besides, I think Draco is much sexier,” she purred.

”Oh do you? What’s your middle name then,” he asked playfully. This is fun.

She demurred, her blue eyes falling into her lap. ”Helene,” she whispered.

He lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger. ”Astoria Helene Greengrass. Lovely,” he said almost dreamily.
Astoria Helene Malfoy. Even lovelier. He leaned in once again for another kiss, but stopped. ”So what else do you
know about me?”

”Well, let’s see...your birthday falls on the fifth of June and you’re an only child. Your father’s name is Lucius
Malfoy and your mother’s name is Narcissa Black Malfoy.”

”Uh-huh. What else?”

”Oh the juicy stuff? You’re tall, handsome, magnificently blond, talented...and hot.”

”I’m hot,” he asked, intrigued. ”How hot?” He was teasing her now.

”This hot,” she said with a snarl. She shoved him onto his back and covered him with her own body. Her eyes
glowed with a fire like Draco had never seen—and he liked it. She tore open his shirt and slid her hands across
his bare chest. He was so surprised by the boldness of her move that his mouth lay slack—just enough for her
crush hers to it and slip her tongue in. If this man had any idea how much daydreaming I’ve done since last
fall...

Draco Malfoy was stunned by a female for the first time in his life. It took a second or two for him to register
what Astoria was doing to him, but when he finally did, his tongue joined hers in a slippery waltz. Slytherin’s
serpent uncoiled somewhere deep in his stomach and began to undulate slowly into his chest. He returned her
kiss and squeezed her tight against his body, her warmth filling cold places and making him feel alive again. ”If
I’m hot, you’re the flame.” Draco Malfoy had fallen in love. Professor Dumbledore had been right all along. His
choice was made.

Prewett was terrified. He had been taken by surprise when a squad of Aurors had Apparated into his home. They
declared that as a subject to Wizarding law, they were there to accompany him to the Ministry of Magic, but that
he was in no way under arrest. It sure felt like an arrest. He wasn’t asked to come—oh no! He was forced to
come, and that meant arrest to him.

They brought him to a plain room and told him that the Assistant Head would be with him in a few moments. He
wanted to ask him some questions. Had this something to do with Mafalda? Was she all right? By Merlin’s
crooked quarterstaff... The door opened and two young men entered, one black-haired and the other ginger.

Harry understood that having been dragged in here all of a sudden might have upset Mr Prewett, and the look
on the man’s face confirmed it. He was shaking and muttering to himself, his eyes darting and full of mistrust.
He’d even jumped when he opened the door. He decided that the best approach was to set them man at ease.
”Good evening, Mr Prewett. My name is Harry Potter. Please allow me to apologize for the abrupt way you were
brought here, but we're having a bit of an emergency.”

”I may be a Squib, but I’ve heard of Harry Potter,” Prewett said abruptly and then turned to Ron. ”And you must
be a Weasley. One of my cousins married one of them. Would she be your mother?”

”Yes, sir,” Ron said not unkindly. ”I’m Ron Weasley. Your cousin, Molly, is my mother.”

”Mr Prewett, I know you have every reason to mistrust the Wizarding community, and I know you did your best
to stay away from us. But we really need to know about your daughter,” Harry told him. ”Why did you leave her

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three years ago?”


So this is about Mafalda. Damn. ”It wasn't exactly voluntary,” he spat out.

”Please. Tell us.”

”I used to hate wizards,” Mr Prewett said with a provocative tone.

”I can understand. My aunt does too, having grown up with her gifted witch sister,” Harry said, nodding.
Common ground. This is good. ”We know Mafalda met Tom Riddle in Little Hangleton. What we don't know is
how that happened.”

Mr Prewett was fighting his disgust for wizards and his anger about being brought here against his will.
”They...took her. He said she was talented and told me to leave.”

”I know you must feel a lot of hate and anger,” Harry said sympathetically. ”But could you tell us anything that
might help us find her?”

Mr Prewett’s eyes narrowed and he fixed a piercing glare on Harry. ”What do you want with her?”

”I want to stop her before she does something really stupid,” Harry admitted.

”And kill her,” Prewett asked sarcastically.


”No, we don't want her dead. We believe she’s a danger to herself and other people. We want to help her,” Harry
told him with a fixed gaze.

Ron nodded in agreement. ”We want to bring her in before she hurts herself...or someone else. We know she’s
had the influence of dark wizards and that she..”
They want to help her? For some reason, Prewett found himself trusting these two young men. They had honest
faces and this Potter kid—there was just something about him he couldn’t put his finger on. Perhaps it was the
influence of all the stories he’d heard or that Harry Potter is a hero of some kind. He wanted his Mafalda back
and if these two young Aurors could return her to him, then by all that’s holy, he’d trust them. ”Mafalda was
eleven. I didn't want her anywhere near Hogwarts, and that's when he showed up. He seemed to have the right
ideas. He...”

”... flattered you, made you feel good about your gifted daughter, and ended up deceiving you?” Ron assumed.

”Yes...” Mr Prewett admitted and started to cry. ”He took her from me, and it's my own fault, because I raised
her to believe that the disregard of blood purity had put us in our situation, and if our so called Pureblood family
had really been pure, I wouldn't have been born a Squib.” Mr Prewett sobbed piteously. ”He had her marry a
man she didn’t know, and forced me to approve of it. Then he sent me away. He took her and told me never to
come looking for her. What was I supposed to do? Me—a Squib.”

”The marriage was designed to lift the Trace so Riddle could teach her magic...dark magic,” Harry said.

”Riddle,” Mr Prewett asked, blinking in confusion.

”His real name. Tom Riddle,” Harry clarified. ”Soon after the wedding ceremony, Mafalda's husband was
murdered. We know almost nothing after that.”

Mr Prewett appeared to be a broken man. He had raised his daughter with a belief that seemed to be fulfilled by
meeting Voldemort. However Voldemort had done what he did with everyone else. He used them. ”You may find
it hard to believe, but I love my daughter. Can you save her, Mr Potter,” Mr Prewett asked desperately.

Harry knew he couldn't answer truthfully. ”We'll do what we can.”

”May I have a quill and a parchment,” Prewett asked, almost hopeful. He knew she had done some terrible
things, but he was still Mafalda’s father and she was all he had left in the world. ”There are a few places Mafalda
used to love as a child and she might use one or more of them as hiding-places. There's little more I can help
you with.”

Ron left the room to find writing materials for his mother’s cousin. Harry conjured a tea service and poured the

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man a cuppa to steady his nerves. ”Sugar?”

”No, just plain, thanks,” Prewett shook his head sadly. ”This is all my fault. I taught her to hate and now
she’s...she’s not quite right, Mr Potter. She needs professional help. He...”

Harry didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say. He had an hunch that Mafalda might be mentally
unstable, and her own father just confirmed it. This could be bad. If she was unstable and full of Voldemort’s
violent tendencies, taking her alive presented a real challenge. On the other hand, unstable people made
mistakes, didn’t they?

Her first mistake already had been to align herself with leftover Death Eaters, none of which had been in
Voldemort’s inner circle, and for obvious reasons. That elite group were all either dead or rotting in Azkaban.
Since Mafalda had been trained by Voldemort, her own fatal mistake might turn out to be the one Voldemort
himself made—underestimating an opponent, namely Harry. Judging by her letter, she underestimated the
Auror Office, half of which consisted of Harry and a few choice members of the DA. Fatal to her cause, yes, but if
Harry could help it, not necessarily to her life.

A few minutes later, Ron reappeared with a quill, a bottle of ink, and a sheet of parchment. He set them down in
front of Mafalda’s shaken father. ”Here you go, sir,” Ron said respectfully. While he drank his tea, Prewett
quickly scratched out a list of all of Mafalda’s favourite places and handed it to Harry.

”Thank you, Mr Prewett,” Harry said kindly. ”We’ll do all we can to bring her in safely. You’re free to go, unless
Head Auror Dawlish has any further questions.”

Harry and Ron exited the room with the list. They walked along the corridor back to Harry’s office, each of them
turning over Prewett’s verbal deposition in their minds. ”Despite everything, I feel sorry for him,” Ron admitted.

”Yeah, me too. All he wanted was the very best for his daughter in a world he didn’t think welcomed him. The
one part of our world he had hopes for, the supporters of blood purity, betrayed him. Like everyone else who
had the misfortune of falling under Riddle’s spell, he was used and discarded. He’s lucky to be alive,” Harry said
in mild amusement. ”As a result he's been subjected to interrogation by the Aurors because we hunt his
daughter like an animal.”

”Bloody Riddle took all Mr Prewett had in the world and warped her already unstable mind until she became the
female embodiment of his own hate. A junior Bellatrix Lestrange.” Ron shuddered at his own conclusion. The last
thing their recovering community needed was another Bellatrix on the rampage. ”Let's see what Hermione got
from Mafalda’s letter, mate. We can compare that and this list with whatever we got out of the tabloids.”

”Great idea. If there are strange reports in the tabloids in or near one of these locations, it might indicate that
Mafalda has at least been there.” Harry opened the door to his office, where they found Hermione and Ginny
waiting for them.

Ginny rose from behind Harry’s desk and leapt into his arms, while Hermione stood and walked straight into
Ron’s.

”So how’re the NEWT studies coming along,” Harry asked, giving Ginny a fierce hug.

”Brutal,” Ginny replied, laying her head on Harry’s chest for a moment. ”My head still hurts.”

Harry kissed the top of her head. ”Perhaps a kneading this night, Milady?”

”’Twould be most welcome, sire,” Ginny replied in kind. ”And your meeting?”

”Well...you know we spoke with Mr Prewett,” Harry began. ”He gave us a back story on Mafalda and how she
ended up where she is now.” Harry sighed heavily and rested his chin on her head.

”And...?”

”Let’s sit down. As soon as Romeo and Juliet over there come down from their balcony, we’ll fill you in.”

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”Hey, we heard that,” Ron said, tearing his lips from Hermione’s. ”It’s been a long day already, and this beautiful
witch I have the pleasure of holding in my arms...”

”Yeah, whatever. You have a room back at Hogwarts. Take it up there,” Ginny teased. ”I want to know what you
two found out from cousin Prewett. And besides, Hermione has something to tell you about Mafalda’s letter.”

”All right, all right,” Ron said snarkily. He turned his attention back to Hermione. ”Later, love. Business before
pleasure.” He pulled out a chair for Hermione and then sat down beside her, his arm across the back of her
chair.

”So what do you reckon, Hermione,” Harry asked.

Hermione put the letter on the desk and looked at them. ”There are the obvious facts in the letter. Threats,
however very politely presented. She points out her similarities with you, Harry, and your connection to Riddle.
But the interesting thing is that she declares that she doesn't consider Harry her enemy,” Hermione said
pointedly.

Ron snorted with frustration. ”Even I could get that from the letter.”

”The question is why,” Hermione continued as though she didn't hear Ron's remark ”Did Harry ever tell her he
considered her his enemy? No. She's jumping to conclusions. I think that's a mistake—a mark of immaturity.
What would give her that idea in the first place?”

”Hang on,” Ron said. ”We used to jump to conclusions and we were usually right.”

”Ronald,” Hermione sighed. ”Remember first year? We assumed Snape was after the stone, when it was really
Quirrel. It even took us most of the year to realise that it was Voldemort who wanted it in the first place.”

”Oh yeah. And second year, we thought Harry was some seriously evil wizard because he could talk to snakes,”
Ron continued as Ginny stiffened. ”What?”

”Think about it, mate,” Harry said softly. ”Second year.”

”Oh right. Sorry, Gin-Gin. I forgot,” Ron said, reaching over to stroke his sister’s hair. ”You all right?”

”Yeah, I’m good, Ronnie. No harm done,” she assured her older brother. She leaned onto Harry’s shoulder and
held fast to his arm. This man saved my life when we were just kids, and I’ll love him forever.

”Anyway,” Hermione interjected. ”What would lead Mafalda to believe she’s Harry’s enemy without ever having
met him?”

No one said anything for a few moments, then Ginny broke the silence. ”She thinks Harry went after Voldemort
to avenge his parents?”

”Most likely. That means she has no real clue about Harry’s and Riddle’s...er...relationship at all. And judging
from what we know about him, he didn't tell her. We’re probably the only ones who know much about Riddle's
life.”

There was a short space of silence until Hermione asked another question. ”She also says she wants Harry to
live. Why do you suppose that is?”

This time Harry answered. ”To kill me herself?” It made sense to him. Somebody had been trying to kill him all
his life, why should now be any different?

”I rather think she believes it would be worse for you to be alive than dead after her plan takes effect,”
Hermione said pointedly. ”She wants you to suffer, Harry.”

Harry’s first thought was that Ginny was in danger. Without thinking, he pulled his arm out of her grasp and
wrapped it protectively around her shoulders. His jaw clenched and his eyes went dark behind his round
glasses.

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”Harry? Harry,” Ginny said. Damn. Brood coming on.

”What’s with him,” Ron asked, looking at Harry.

”I don’t know, Ron,” Ginny replied, ”but he’s got that I’ve-got-to-protect-Ginny look about him again.”

”Bloody hell. He’s brooding, isn’t he? He used to do that when we...” Ron shook his head.

”While we were on the run,” Hermione finished. ”He’d go quiet and stare into space. It was pretty frightening.
There were times...”

”I’m still here, you know,” Harry grumbled. ”And yes, I do need to protect you, Gin. Mafalda may be immature,
but she’s almost as crazy as Bellatrix Lestrange and just as evil,” Harry explained, his tone less peevish, but his
eyes still dark.

Ginny sighed. Tell me we’re not doing this again. ”Harry, I know you love me and want me to keep me safe. I get
that—I have always gotten that. But I know how to defend myself. I learned from the best,” she cooed, stroking
his face.

”Besides, Harry, it’s not any of us she’s after,” Ron reminded him. ”Remember our brainstorming meeting back
at Hogwarts?”
”What are you talking about,” Harry growled.
How soon they forget. ”You asked me what I might do if I had wanted to bring down the Ministry, remember?
What did I say?”

Harry had to think a moment, and as he did, his eyes began to brighten again. ”Oh yeah. Cursed objects for
Muggles to find, bury the Ministry in its own paperwork...”
”Precisely, mate. Ginny’s a witch, so she doesn’t qualify as a target,” Ron said in hopes of setting his partner’s
mind at ease. ”If what Hermione says is true, and you know it probably is, the way she wants to make you suffer
is to create havoc by killing and maiming Muggles.”

”That’s right, Harry. Mafalda believes, and she’s right in this, that the best way to get to you—to destroy you—is
to put you in a position to have to watch, presumably helpless. That’s a pearl of wisdom she very likely learned
from Riddle,” Hermione hypothesised. ”The trouble with her plot as I see it, Harry, is that she underestimates
you and your team’s ability to stop her before she can make her plans reality.”
How does she do that? ”Are you are sure you read the same letter as we did,” Ron asked with a snicker.
”Honestly, ’Mione. Your powers of deduction are...bloody uncanny!”

Hermione gave Ron her best matter-of-fact look and waved the letter. ”The same.”

”Blimey. With your powers of deduction, my tactical skill, Harry’s leadership, Ginny’s level head, and the DA’s
drive, we’ll bring her down in very short order,” Ron said with an air of rapture.

Harry began to laugh. “Ron, you have an active imagination! But perhaps you’ve got something there. These
Q&A-slash-brainstorming sessions have produced some plausible, if not spot-on, theories. Let’s put those level-
headed tactical powers of deduction to work and see if we can make something of the tabloids.”

”And then you can lead the hell out of the driven DA and fulfill the fantasies in Ron’s active imagination,” Ginny
said with a grin.

The four of them sat in Harry’s office exchanging puns and laughing uproariously as the jokes became lamer by
the moment. It felt like old times in the Gryffindor common room, puzzling out mysteries and laughing at one
another’s theories. Only this time, there were four in the mix and they not only loved one another, but they had
become two couples very deeply in love, each with his and her own. Their love bound them now as never before
and that made their laughter all the more purgatory—all the more precious.

”Feeling better now, Harry,” Ginny asked softly into his ear.

”Mmm...much,” he replied intimately. ”I don’t know what I’d do without any of you—especially you, Love.” Harry
leaned in to claim Ginny’s lips with his own, giving her a kiss full of longing and promise. The unspoken thing
passed through their bond in a gentle wave.

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”Oi! A little dignity,” Ron called as Hermione giggled.


”Yeah, Hamlet and Ophelia. You have a room back at Hogwarts. Take it up there,” Hermione mocked them. They
laughed at her joke, but then she went quiet. Neither couple initially paid much attention as they teased one
another, but both of those Shakespearean love stories ended in tragedy and death.

”’Mione, what’s wrong?” Ron noticed she had stopped laughing and took on a far-away look. ”Hermione?”

”What? Oh nothing. I was just thinking,” she said quickly.

”Newsflash! Hermione Granger thinks,” Ron said with a snicker. ”We’ll alert the media.”

”Oh touché,” Hermione said, slapping his arm. ”Let’s get to work with those tabloids.”

Mr Prewett's list turned out to be the puzzle piece they needed to make heads and tails of the tabloids. It had
been fairly simple to sort out the articles most likely dealing with magic, but that was only half the battle. They
would have to investigate hundreds of cases all over the country. With Mr Prewett's list, they could narrow their
search.

Hermione’s and Ginny’s organisational skills proved invaluable in their endeavour. They sorted the articles into
several categories according to headlines, including the actual places on Mr Prewett’s list, places near the actual
places on Mr Prewett’s list, unexplained natural phenomena, strange sightings, and mysterious deaths or
disappearances. They chucked everything else. There were still many issues to peruse, but less than half of the
lot they started with.
The Mysterious Blackout Night was an article claiming an entire community lost its collective memory in
Mafalda’s pre-Little Hangleton home town. Hermione determined a super-strong memory charm.
Drop Dead was an article about a young Muggle couple found dead of unknown causes outside another of the
places on Mr Prewett's list. Harry immediately suspected the killing curse—no marks on the bodies, no signs of
disease, and most chilling—no motive.
Anglo-Saxon god, Tiw, Spotted was perhaps the most striking of all the headlines. A man claimed he had seen
Tiw, the mythological god of warfare. The proof was a vivid tale of red bolts of lightning shooting from the arms
and the fact that it happened on a Tuesday, the very day named for that deity. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny
instantly recognised that a wizard fired a stunner despite the colourful Muggle tale.

”We need to report to the Chief right away, Ron. You two,” Harry said pointing between Hermione and Ginny,
”go on back to Hogwarts. I don’t know how long this is going to take and we all know you have studying to do.”

”But...” Ginny began.

”Gin-Gin, you can’t come to this briefing meeting. Strict Auror business,” Ron said forcefully.

”Come on, Ginny. It’d be boring anyway. They’re just going to tell the rest of the team what we already know,
since we helped ferret it out,” Hermione said. ”We’ll see you two at supper.” Hermione and Ginny kissed their
men and left the office.

”Hermione, I’m worried,” Ginny said as they waiting for the lift. ”I mean, this is bigger than I imagined. All that
stuff in the tabloids and then the whole Shakespeare thing...”

”What Shakespeare thing,” Hermione asked as their lift opened. They stepped inside and Ginny pressed the
button marked Atrium.

”Hermione, I may have grown up in a Wizarding home, but I’ve read a bit of Shakespeare. I even like Muggle
classical music,” Ginny confessed. ”I’ve read Romeo and Juliet and Hamlet.”

”Atrium,” a sickeningly-sweet female lift voice announced.

Hermione and Ginny stepped off the lift and walked over to a vacant fireplace to Floo back to Hogwarts. ”Ginny,
what does Shakespeare have to do with the tabloids? Why...oh.” Dawn broke over Hermione’s horizon. ”The
jokes, right?”

”Yes. Hermione, have you read Romeo and Juliet and Hamlet?” Ginny already knew the answer.

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”Of course I have. They’re love stories,” Hermione replied.

”Hermione, they’re tragedies! They end in madness and death! Romeo and Juliet commit suicide for love of one
another, and Hamlet and Ophelia lose their minds and are either killed or commit suicide,” Ginny cried. ”We
can’t joke about them anymore. We...”

Hermione didn’t want to admit that she had had the same disturbing epiphany back in Harry’s office after her
own joke about Hamlet. ”Ginny, that’s not going to happen to us. They’re fictional characters in four-hundred-
fifty-plus-year-old plays characteristic of their time,” Hermione said. ”Listen, let’s get back to Hogwarts and we’ll
talk about it some more, okay?”

”Right. Okay,” Ginny sniffed and grabbed a handful of Floo powder. She stepped into the grate and called,
”Headmistress’ Office! She tossed the powder and in a whoosh of green flames, she spun out of sight. Hermione
immediately followed.

”Miss Weasley. Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall said over her square spectacles. ”How are our two Aurors
coming along in their investigation?”

”Quite well, actually,” Hermione answered.”A team of Aurors located Mr Prewett and Harry and Ron interviewed
him. Harry said he gave them a little back story on Mafalda and then he jotted down a list of some of her
favourite places.”

”And to what purpose,” the headmistress asked, removing her spectacles. ”Do they plan to search these
places?”

”Yes, but not right away,” Ginny told her. ”Harry thinks that Muggle tabloids might hold the key to her plan. We
compared Mr Prewett’s list to the relevant tabloid articles we gleaned from a pile of them from all last year and
sussed out some possibilities.”

”Tabloids. You mean those Muggle gossip papers and magazines,” McGonagall asked in surprise. ”They’re utter
nonsense. I’ve read a few of them.”

”At first glance, they’re certainly rubbish, but to a Muggle, they’re entertainment. To an Auror, they’re clues,”
Hermione said. ”If you read them closely, you’ll find that the tabloids did a marvelous job of reporting the war,
Professor.”

”So they have a plan then,” Professor McGonagall asked.


”They’re having a briefing meeting right now,” Ginny replied. ”I guess they’ll have one hammered out by
suppertime, at least Harry and Ron hope so.”

”Growing boys, yes?” Minerva McGonagall made it a point to know her Gryffindors and she knew Harry Potter
and Ronald Weasley well. Those two could both tuck in a big way when they were peckish, especially Ron.

”Exactly,” Hermione laughed. ”See you at supper, Professor.”

”Right. Good afternoon,” Ginny said.

”Good afternoon.”

Hermione and Ginny left the office and made their way to Harry’s and Ginny’s room. Ginny shrunk back into her
Shakespearean stupor while Hermione tried to concoct arguments to bring her out of it. They arrived in the
Defence Against the Dark Arts office and approached the appropriate cabinet. ”Lawnmower,” Ginny said and
tapped it. The door appeared and clicked open.

”Incendio,” Hermione said, flicking her wand at the cold grate. A warm fire erupted from the empty grate and
began to warm the immediate space in front of it. ”Ginny, about Shakespeare...”

”Hermione, we cannot joke about that anymore. It hits too close to home. Harry’s life has been madness and
this war made life madness for all of us. You were nearly killed at Malfoy Manor, Ron was nearly killed by
poisoned mead, Harry’s been nearly killed more times than I care to count—in fact, he actually died once—and I

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was nearly killed in the Chamber of Secrets and then again last year,” Ginny gushed. ”We can never joke about
Romeo and Juliet or Hamlet and Ophelia ever, ever again!” Ginny began to cry in earnest.

Hermione couldn’t deny Ginny was upset, nor could she deny the terror Ginny’s reasons resurrected in herself.
She closed her eyes to blink back hot tears stinging her own eyes as her mind took her back in time, back to
almost exactly a year ago. That horrible night that they and Dean Thomas had been taken by Snatchers and
delivered to Malfoy Manor, Hermione had been tortured mercilessly by Bellatrix Lestrange while Harry, Ron,
Dean, Luna, and Mr Ollivander lay in a cell in the manse’s dungeons.

The pain had been excruciating—like none she’d ever experienced in her young life, and like she hoped she
never would again. She had wanted it to end, she wanted Bellatrix to just kill her and get it over with, but no.
When her time came, it would have been at the hands...or paws...of Fenrir Grayback. But somehow, Ron and
Harry managed to get everyone to safety with the help of Dobby the House-elf, who lost his life saving hers.

And what of those who had been lost...or nearly lost? What of all the Capulets and Montagues lost in the war
and their devastated families? The Rosencrantzes and Guildensterns? Just how closely did Harry’s state of mind
on the run parallel that of the tormented Danish prince, with Ron as his Yorik? Hermione had come up with a
dozen arguments against Ginny’s fears, but none of them seemed remotely valid anymore.

Hermione drew Ginny into a sisterly hug. ”None of us are Romeos and Juliets nor Hamlets and Ophelias. We’re
still here, and whole, and none of us are going anywhere. But Ginny,” she paused to conjure handkerchiefs for
both of them to wipe streaming tears from their eyes.

”Yes, Hermione,” Ginny said, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.

”We have to be strong for Harry and Ron. They have a very dangerous job and right now, they’re planning a
very dangerous mission,” she explained. ”They’re going to need us when it’s over. We need to be there with our
arms open to receive them when they return to us. And they will.”

Hermione wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince at this point—herself or her future sister-in-law. She was
terrified for Ron and for Harry. She knew as well as Ginny that they could be killed at any moment chasing
Mafalda and her rag-tag band of Death Eaters.

”Not a word of this to either of them, deal,” Ginny asked, offering Hermione her hand. ”Strong, supportive,
yeah?”

”Yeah. Deal,” Hermione agreed and shook her hand.

The two girls waited by the fire and cried out their fears, comforting each other as they wept. They both realised
that there would be many a lonely moment just like this one as their men patrolled the night, protecting them
and their world from darkness.

Harry knocked on the Head Auror’s door, marked J DAWLISH, HEAD AUROR.

”Enter,” Dawlish called from the other side. Harry and Ron entered. ”Potter. Weasley. To what do I owe the
pleasure?”

”Chief, we have some leads,” Harry said, handing the list to his boss.

”From Prewett?”

”Yes sir,” Ron replied.

”And what’s this list all about,” Dawlish asked, tapping it with his wand. ”Geminio.” He returned Harry’s original
copy.

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”Mr Prewett said this is a list of all of Mafalda’s favourite places. He thought perhaps we might find her lurking
about in any one of them,” Harry told him.
”Anything else?”

”He gave us a little background on Mafalda’s descent into Voldemort’s...er...madness,” Ron replied.

”He mostly blames himself for instilling some pretty unhealthy philosophies in her, but he insists Voldemort
turned her into the twisted wretch she is today,” Harry said.

”Anything on the husband?”


”Only that she was just eleven when Riddle took her away and orchestrated that mockery of a marriage in order
to remove the Trace. That jives with her underage magic report. Prewett says he never saw her again after that.
Riddle had sent him away,” Harry said, summarising the finer points of the interview. ”He’s lucky to be alive,
really.”

”What about the Muggle tabloids?”

Ron handed Dawlish another stack of parchments containing the notes they had taken comparing Prewett’s list
with the articles in the tabloids. ”You’ll find that quite interesting, sir,” Ron said. ”Harry was right about the
tabloids. They’re loaded with clues and that list confirms many of them. The rest of the articles reveal obvious
stunning spells and killing curses being thrown all over Britain, with Muggles making the reports...and dying
mysterious deaths.”

”Does Hermione have any opinions about that letter?”

”She does. Several actually,” Harry replied. ”Mafalda believes that I killed Voldemort out of revenge. She
assumes I considered her an enemy and she thinks I’m an idiot. Essentially, she’s an immature little brat—an
evil one—who has underestimated the Auror Office, namely me.”

”And she wants Harry to suffer,” Ron cut in. ”Hermione says Mafalda clearly believes that if she can create
enough havoc to bury us in our own paperwork, the Ministry will fall, the Wizarding community will be thrown
into utter chaos, and Harry will somehow be blamed for it. What was it she said about getting to you, Harry?”

”Getting to me...oh yeah. Hermione says that Mafalda probably learned about my noble nature from Voldemort
and that the easiest way to torture me is to hurt innocent people while I’m in no position to stop it. Chief, she
doesn’t want to take over the Ministry—she wants to destroy it.”

”It all makes sense,” Dawlish said thoughtfully, ”in a twisted sort of way. Do you have a plan, Weasley?”

”Uh...yeah, we do,” Ron replied.

”Then let’s call everyone in and put it into action,” Dawlish said

The call went out for the meeting. Within the hour, every Auror in the field and off-duty arrived, including
Harry’s DA elite. Dawlish called the meeting to order and surrendered the floor to his Assistant Head and chief
tactician.

Harry and Ron moved to the front of the room and sat on a table facing their fellow Aurors. ”All right, people.
This is phase one. Our interview with Mr Prewett and all the work we’ve done with the Muggle tabloids has given
us some leads. The purpose of this mission is to locate Miss Prewett and her DEs, if we can, and report back. You
will be divided up into teams and given a short list of places to investigate. The first name on each team is your
leader.

Team A: Chang, Boot, Goldstein.” Cho nodded and gestured for Terry and Tony to join her.

”Team B: Finnegan, Brown, Bones.” Seamus nodded and gestured for Lavender and Susan to join him.

”All right, Love,” Seamus asked Lavender under his breath.

”All right,” she whispered with a sly grin. ”Good as new.”

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”Team C: Potter, Weasley, Williamson.” Williamson joined Harry and Ron at the front of the room.

”Team D: Dawlish, Smith, Richards.” Dawlish gestured for his team to join him.

Harry handed Ron the lists to distribute to the team leaders. ”Again, the purpose of this mission is to locate, not
engage. Use caution. These locations may be loaded with curses and covered by strong protective wards. Any of
these may be hideouts—perhaps several, if not all of them. Keep an eye out for sentries. I must stress that you
are not to go in or engage unless you’re attacked. Any questions?”

”Wha’ aboot the rrest of us, sirr,” an unassigned Auror asked with a heavy brogue, gesturing to his colleagues.
”Any orrders for oss?”

”Oh yes. Sorry,” Harry apologised. ”Your job is administrative. You will co-ordinate the incoming reports and
create a document for the debriefing meeting to follow. Please be accurate. In fact, since you seem so keen,
you’re in charge...er...”

”Thompson, sirr. Andrroo Thompson,” the Auror replied, offering his hand. ”Jus’ call me Jock, sirr. Everryone
else does.”
A Scotsman. They’re tough buggers. ”Right. Thompson--Jock. You’re in charge then,” Harry said, shaking it.
”And please, call me Harry.”

”Aye, sirr. Thank ye, sirr...er...Harry,” Thompson replied. He sat down with a satisfied grin on his face.

”Anything you’d like to add, Chief?” Harry relinquished the floor to his boss. I’ve got a scrappy Irishman leading
a team in the field, and a hardscrabble Scot running the operation here. This ought to be fun.

Dawlish rose from his chair. ”Go home. Get some rest. Good hunting tomorrow. Dismissed.”

”What do you reckon, mate,” Harry asked Ron as they made their way to the lifts. ”I’m sure those lovely ladies
of ours are wondering what’s become of us.”

Ron looked at his watch. ”I reckon they are because it’s almost supper time and I reckon I’m starved.” For food
and Hermione. Ron grinned wickedly to himself.

”If it’s that late,” Harry said, ”we should probably not try to Floo back. Professor McGonagall’s probably already
headed down to the Great Hall and I wouldn’t feel right barging into her office when she’s out.”

”Then we Apparate, yeah?”

Harry and Ron boarded the lift and pressed the button that would direct their car to the atrium. ”Atrium,” the
female voice said softly. They stepped out and made their way past the new memorial to those who died to make
the Wizarding world a better place. Sirius Black, Colin Creevey, Cedric Diggory, Albus Dumbledore, Remus and
Nymphadora Lupin, Alastor Moody, James and Lily Potter, Fabian and Gideon Prewett, Severus Snape, Fred
Weasley, the list went on. Would they add Gawain Robards to that monument? Probably not.

Harry contemplated the centaurs, who usually stayed out of Wizarding business, suddenly—almost miraculously
—appearing in organised ranks at the edge the Forbidden Forest, sending volley after volley of arrows into the
mass of advancing Death Eaters, and how they took curse after curse as they charged and joined the fight
hand-to-hand.

He thought of Kreacher, who valiantly led the Hogwarts house-elves, kitchen knives and cleavers in hand, in an
all-out assault against the legs of the Death Eaters who managed to curse their way into the castle. Kreacher
had survived, but Dobby didn’t. If Dobby hadn’t rescued him and the others from Malfoy Manor, they couldn’t
have completed their mission and Voldemort would still have a stranglehold on the Wizarding world.

Harry ran his fingers across the names of his parents, Sirius, the Lupins, Dumbledore, and Snape, as Ron ran his
own fingers across those of his brother and their uncles, twins themselves. ”I notice that there’s no mention of
the centaurs or house-elves that joined the fight, not to mention the Thestrals,” Harry said dejectedly. ”They
still don’t get it, do they?”

”Harry, it’s going to take time if it happens at all,” Ron said, placing a large hand on his friend’s shoulder. ”But if

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and when it does happen, you’ll know Hermione will have had something to do with it.” Ron guided Harry away
from the monument and pushed him toward the Apparition point. ”Now how about those lovely ladies and a hot
supper?”

”Sounds good to me,” Harry replied. They turned, spun downward and were gone with a pop!

Hermione and Ginny had finished their cry. They still sat on the rug in front of the fire, just talking, when they
heard a noise outside. The door opened and Harry and Ron stepped through. ”Where have you been,” Hermione
cried, leaping into Ron’s strong arms. ”We were getting worried!”

”Tactical meeting...Love. We’re...moving out...tomorrow,” Ron replied between kisses.

“Tomorrow,” Ginny cried, now clinging desperately to Harry. ”S-so soon?” Tears began to well up in her
chocolate eyes. ”H-harry?”

”It’s just a fact-finding mission, Gin. We don’t plan to engage the DEs or anything. We just want to pinpoint their
hideouts, that’s all,” Harry explained as Ginny sobbed into his chest.

”That’s right. We have four teams of the best of our lot checking out the locations we sussed out this afternoon,”
Ron added, stroking a now-sobbing Hermione’s hair. ”What’s with all the waterworks anyway?”

”It...it’s nothing. We’re just a little knackered and a lot hungry,” Hermione lied as Ron wiped her eyes for her.
She stole a sidelong glance at Ginny, who had just received a wave of the unspoken thing from Harry. She was
already smiling a little while Harry brushed her tears away with his thumbs.

”Well we’re a lot knackered and a lot hungry, so what say you,” Harry smiled and drew himself up with all of
Percy’s pomposity. ”Shall we dine?” He offered Ginny his arm and she took it.

”Good show,” Ron said in his worst upper-crust accent. ”I say, Hermione. Spiffing, wot?”

Hermione took his arm and raised her nose to the air. ”Indubitably, Ronald,” she replied in a hideous
high-pitched clip. ”Harry, Ginevra. Come along.”

Ginny would have none of it. She decided to drag them all back down into the gutter with her. ”Less go, then,
mytes. Toim’s a-wystin’, toim’s a-wystin’.” The others joined her in a round of laughter for her horrid Cockney.
Harry extinguished the fire in the grate and they trooped out, still laughing at one another’s bad impressions,
and headed to the Great Hall to indulge in another of Hogwarts’ wonderful feasts. For a few hours, their
apprehension about tomorrow’s mission was temporarily forgotten.

After a very satisfying meal, the four friends bade one another ”Goodnight,” and made for their rooms. Ron and
Hermione couldn’t get out of the Great Hall fast enough, but Harry and Ginny took a leisurely stroll
hand-in-hand.

”You’re awfully quiet,” Ginny said, nudging him as they walked. ”Sickle for your thoughts.”

”I’m just thinking about tomorrow,” Harry said. ”Running it over in my mind. No worries.”

”Are you sure you’re not going to be in...danger,” Ginny asked with a gulp.

”Gin, in my line of work, there’s always some degree of danger. You know that,” Harry said, squeezing her hand.
”But I promise you: there will be no fight tomorrow if we can help it. It’s just a little snooping about, that’s all.”

”If you can help it,” Ginny repeated warily. ”What if...”

”We’ll have to cross that bridge if we come to it, Gin. There are no guarantees that this will come off without a
hitch,” Harry said, letting go of her hand and wrapping his arm around her waist. ”But if everyone does their job
as he or she should, we should all be fine. Don’t worry, okay?”

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As they walked on, Ginny thought about what Hermione had said to her about being strong for Harry. We need
to be there with our arms open to receive them when they return to us. And they will.

”Now, Milady,” Harry said, tapping on the appropriate cupboard door. ”I believe I promised thee a kneading. Dost
thou still desire it?”

”Aye, my brave and handsome knight. I do so desire,” she replied with a giggle. ”I glory in thy ministrations.”
”Come then, dear lady,” Harry laughed as he swept her off her feet and carried her into the room. ”I shall see
thee safely to thy glory.” He kicked the door closed. It latched behind them as Harry waved his hand at the
fireplace, bringing it back to life. He carried her to the bed and laid her on it. ”Allow me, fair Ginevra,” Harry
said, undressing her.

”Thou art most kind,” she replied.

The next morning, Harry rose early. He kissed his sleepy fiancée and left their room to report to the Auror Office
at the Ministry. He wanted to make sure he was prepared for this mission. The operation at King's Cross had
been a major task to plan, mostly because of the paperwork. Slipping into the police station had been child’s
play, but this operation might result in the people he commanded ending up in St Mungo's or—Merlin forbid—the
morgue. He wanted to look over the plan again to make sure he hadn't missed anything. He hadn’t.

An hour later, Ron had finished his breakfast and joined him. ”Morning, mate. No breakfast this morning?”

”Nah. Too wound up, I guess. I expect you’ve had a hearty one, though. You’ve got egg or something on your
nose,” Harry laughed, pointing at his friend’s face.
You’ve got dirt on your nose, did you know? Just there. ”Bloody hell,” Ron grumbled. That was one of the first
things Hermione had ever said to him...back on that first day on the Hogwarts Express, when he considered her
a nightmare. She was a dream come true last night.

Within a few minutes, Williamson showed up. ”Morning, gents.”

”Morning, Will,” Harry and Ron replied together. The three looked at each other as if waiting for one or another
to speak. ”Ready to check our first location then, mates,” Harry asked.

”I had the Portkey Office equip us with Portkeys that will transport us to a safe distance from our individual
target locations in a specific order,” Harry said, holding out the hubcap from an old Ford Anglia. He smirked at
Ron, who began to chuckle.

”What’s so funny,” Williamson asked. ”It’s just an old hubcap off a...oh! You two did the thing with the flying car
several years ago! The Prophet had a field day with that, and we thought Fudge was going to drop one right in
his office!”
”Right in one,” Ron laughed. ”That was us! We were in so much trouble! Snape was in a right snit, threatening
us with expulsion! For detention, I had to polish trophies, but Harry had to help Professor Lockhart with his
ruddy fan mail.”

”Gilderoy Lockhart? That fraud,” Williamson laughed. ”You got stuck with him?”

”Yeah, but Ron had to polish trophies, but under the watchful eyes of Filch and his demonic cat,” Harry laughed.
”And all the time, Ron was coughing up slugs and getting the trophies all slimy!”

Williamson was in stitches. ”Coughing up... Why the hell were you coughing up slugs, Weasley?”
”Broken wand. We crashed the car into the Whomping Willow. We’re lucky to be alive,” Harry said, wiping tears
of mirth from his eyes.

”It wasn’t funny then, Harry,” Ron said, elbowing his partner. “I tried to repair my old wand with Spellotape, but

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it didn’t work. I cast a spell and it backfired. Slugs. It took ages to bring them all up.”

Williamson had to excuse himself to go to the loo before they Portkeyed to their first location. He was still
howling as he disappeared into the men’s. When he returned, Harry held the hubcap out and activated it.
”Portus,” he murmured, tapping it with his wand.

”Let's go,” Ron said, as he and Williamson took hold of the hubcap. Moments later, they felt the familiar tug
behind their navels as Team C were transported out of the Auror Office to their first location.

”My Lady,” the servant called, breathlessly stumbling into the room.

”What is it,” Mafalda asked, annoyed.

”One of our teams was forced to act,” the man said.

”What do you mean? Explain,” Mafalda demanded.

”The Muggle you were planning to snatch was leaving England, or so a rumour said... a Muggle rumour.” He
clutched a stitch in his side as he gave her his report.

Mafalda shrieked. Someone had acted without her order. ”Who is it they snatched?”

”It's a Muggle sportsman, a David Heckbam...or something like that. He's like one of our Quidditch stars. Our
team learned that he and his club weren't on the best of terms, despite winning some major Muggle titles. So
they heard he was leaving for Spain.”

”And on that basis, without orders, they moved in,” she asked calmly. ”Where is he now,” she demanded.

”In one of our safe houses,” the servant declared proudly.

”Fools!” Mafalda raged as the servant cowered under his mistress’ wrath. ”Those bloody idiots need to be taught
what pain is really about. And that Muggle, David Heck... whatever the hell his name is... We’ll have to alter his
memory and return him to his home. Hopefully we can do some damage control and salvage our plan!” The
servant cowered under his mistress’ wrath. In a trice, she had donned her cloak and Disapparated to the safe
house.

Chapter 18: The Village


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Chapter 18 – The Village

Harry, Ron and Williamson landed in a small clearing on the outskirts of a village. They looked around. It was
obviously a Muggle village. They had expected that, since Mr Prewett had been so intent on distancing himself
from the Wizarding world. According to his list, there was a house here that Mr Prewett used to rent every
summer during Mafalda's childhood, and she had loved being here. The village was small enough so that they
could clearly see a lake on one side and a forest on the other.

”Okay, we need to get to the other end. There's only one street leading through this village and we’re looking
for the last house on the left side,” Harry told them.

They walked slowly through the village, trying to act as inconspicuous as they could, but a man of Ron’s height
and build with flaming red hair is about as conspicuous as they come. He drew stares from people on the street,
especially women, but he pretended not to notice. It was a bright morning, almost cloudless, and quite warm for
the time of year. Muggle husbands all up and down the main street kissed their wives goodbye and hugged their
children as they left their porches and climbed into their cars to leave for work. They stopped in front of the last

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house on the left. ”There's a light on.” Ron said.

”Yes, it might be a Muggle living there, but it might be a DE, too,” Williamson speculated.

”There are probably wards if it's a hideout. We’d better be careful,” Harry warned, approaching with caution.

A Muggle neighbour two houses away, with a slight spring in his step and a whistle strode down the front walk to
his car parked on the street. Ron approached him. ”Good morning, sir,” he greeted the Muggle politely.

The man was at first a bit intimidated by Ron’s stature, but his polite demeanor set the neighbour at ease. ”Good
morning, young man,” the Muggle replied. ”What can I do for you?”

”My mum's cousin used to live in that house over there,” Ron said, pointing to the target house. ”Would you
happen to know anything about the current owner?”

The Muggle looked over at the house Ron pointed at. ”Hmph. Shady lot, if you ask me. I don’t know them. They
keep to themselves,” the Muggle said darkly. ”If you’ll excuse me,” he grunted, stooping to slide into his car.

”Oh. Right. Thank you,” Ron said, smiling. ”Good day, sir.” He watched as the man drove away and then
returned to his teammates.

Harry and Williamson looked at Ron. ”That was bloody brilliant, Ron,” Harry exclaimed, although not too loudly.

”Mum's cousin did use to live there,” Ron shrugged. ”What do we do?”

”Let's stay for a while and see if we can indentify who's inside,” Harry decided. ”Muggle policemen call it a
stakeout.”
”So where’re the steaks,” Ron snickered. ”I’m starved.”

”Git,” Harry snickered back. ”You’re always starved.”

”Blimey, Weasley,” Williamson mused. ”You’re always stuffing yourself. How come you’re not as big as that
ruddy house?”

”Weights, punching bags, dueling practice, running...” Harry said, ticking each item off on his fingers.

”Damn! No wonder you eat so much,” Williamson laughed. ”Remind me not to hack you off.”

”Yeah, well don’t hack Potter off either,” Ron said, winking at Harry. ”He’s been at it longer than I have.”

”All right, you prats,” Harry urged under his breath. ”Shut it.”

”Sorry, Dad,” Ron snorted. When did Harry become so authoritarian?

The Ravenclaw team, led by Cho Chang, moved in on the neighbourhood where their target address was located.
It was a small flat in a London suburb. According to Mr Prewett, they had lived there for a couple of years. His
job at that time was dead-end and low-paying, but it's where Mafalda lived when she was old enough to
understand she was a witch. Most certainly that place could be important to her.

”Merlin's beard,” Goldstein whispered after less than twenty minutes waiting.

”What is it Tony,” Cho asked.

”Mafalda has left the building,” he said, pointing toward a little person, obviously female, in a cloak. Cho and
Boot followed his finger with their eyes. It was Mafalda. They started to tail her, but she quickly turned into an
alley and Disapparated. ”What do we do,” Goldstein asked.

”Our orders are to report back to the Ministry,” Cho said. ”Tony, you go back and report to Thompson. Terry and
I will remain here in case she returns.”

”Right, Cho,” he said. ”See you later.” Tony Goldstein strode into the same alley and Disapparted to the

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Ministry.

Harry, Ron and Williamson hadn't waited long before someone approached the house. It was a young woman in
a cloak. ”Mafalda,” Ron said nodding.

”Are you sure,” Harry asked, still watching her.

”Wizarding robes, teenage girl, at this very location. If we arrest her and it's not Mafalda, I'll personally
apologise to her, but who else would it be,” Ron said as if explaining that Pig was an owl and not a Kneazle.
Hermione’s had a positive influence on him. ”All right. Let's move quickly. Williamson, prepare an anti-Apparition
charm around that house. Ron, send a Patronus to teams A and B. I'll send one to the Auror office and team D.
Tell them to get here immediately. We move in five minutes.”

”But Harry...” Ron began.

”Do it! We’ve got a shot right now,” Harry insisted.

Within minutes, the other eight Aurors gathered at Harry's location. They had a chance and by Merlin, they were
going to take it. ”Here's the situation. In that house are an unknown number of DEs. One of them is Mafalda
Prewett herself. We have the element of surprise. Williamson is preparing an anti-Apparition charm, so no one
can escape. Try only to stun your targets; we want them taken alive and brought to justice,” Harry commanded.
The Aurors nodded and got their orders which entrance to take. They attacked immediately after everyone was
in place and with a perfect coordination.

Mafalda glared at her disobedient team; four very frightened masked wizards stared at her. ”So, can any of you
explain why you acted without orders,” Mafalda demanded sharply.

”Uh... he was leaving...” one stammered.

”Do any of you morons speak and understand English,” she sneered, scoffing at their nods ”Do any of you think
Attack only if given the order has the same meaning as Attack if we think the target is leaving?”

They all shook their heads.

”So why in the name of Merlin is that Muggle boffer player tied up in this house and not tucked safely in his
home?”

One of the wizards raised his hand.

”Yes?”

”Football player... he's a football player... not a boffer player,” he corrected her, shaking in fear.

Mafalda pulled her wand. ”I guess I'll have to punish you, and then adjust his and his family's memories...”
Crash! Bang! Slam! The house shook as every door on the house flew open. Mafalda reacted immediately.
”Guard the door,” Mafalda ordered, realising that her situation was bad in the back room with only one door in
or out. She tried to Disapparate but couldn't. ”Bloody hell! Wards! Freaking Aurors,” she screeched.

Harry crept into the house, followed by Cho’s team, Seamus, and Ron. Goldstein had only just returned. He cast
Homenum revelio to locate any potentially disillusioned DEs. He signaled Seamus to open the door to the back
room. Seamus opened the door and then turned and stood next to the door in case anyone cast a Reducto or
other unhealthy spell on it. Harry pulled three Stunning bombs from his robes and threw into the room, they
went off.

”Bombarda!” Ron blew the door and frame out of the wall. They found four men in the room, all shaking their
heads and beating at their temples, disorientated. Behind them stood Mafalda, protected by a shield. It had
clearly been strong enough, since the stunning bombs Ron and George had invented couldn’t penetrate it. In
fact, they weren’t very strong at all. Three of them like this gave the Aurors the upper hand against the four
men, which was a good start. They were in no condition to duel.

”You are all under arrest,” Dawlish declared. ”Slowly put your wands on the floor.” The four men all obeyed, but

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Mafalda threw herself out of the window. On instinct, Harry caught her with a Levicorpus, suspending her
mid-jump. He could hear her swearing, but there was very little time before she could free herself and escape.
Cho and Seamus dove after her and a duel ensued.

”Potter,” Dawlish called. ”We’ll take care of these men. You and Weasley assist Chang and Finnegan! Boot!
Goldstein! Check the cellar.”

Harry and Ron rushed out of the house. Seamus stood alone against Mafalda. Harry rushed to his assistance and
Ron noticed a body on the ground close to the window and hurried over to it.

”So, if it isn’t the famous Harry Potter. Finally we meet,” Mafalda drawled as she shot off a curse at Seamus.

”Give it up Mafalda,” Harry warned, raising his wand.

She focused for a second and Seamus collapsed. ”Now it's you and me,” she said dangerously.

Harry focused on Mafalda. He was worried about Seamus and Cho, but he had to stay focused. Williamson, who
had stayed behind, approached to assist when he saw Seamus fall to the ground.

”No,” Harry yelled. ”Williamson, stay put! Stay safe!” The next second, Harry realised that call was a mistake.

”Avada Kedavra,” Mafalda hissed and struck Williamson in the hip as he tried to parry. The next moment,
Mafalda Disapparated just a millisecond before Harry's stunner would have connected.

Harry ran to Seamus, who had sat up shaking his head. ”What happened? Little wench could’ve killed me!”

”I think she took you off guard and broke into your mind,” Harry said.

”Where is she,” Seamus asked as Harry pulled him to his feet.

”Mafalda killed Williamson and left as soon as the anti-Apparition ward lifted,” Harry told him. Harry then
hurried toward Ron and Cho. ”How is she, mate,” Harry asked breathlessly.

”She's alive, just knocked out. But we’d better get her to St Mungo's. Looks like she took a Reducto to the chest,
but judging from the damage—or lack of it, she must have had a shield in front of her. Still, there might be
internal bleeding and I suspect a few broken ribs,” Ron replied, applying pressure to her bleeding chest.
Harry fought the urge to be sick. His heart and mind raced at breakneck speed. At this point, all he could think
of was that his choice to move in cost him one man dead, one woman seriously injured. Damn! Harry stepped
over to where Williamson had fallen. He lay sprawled on his back, surprised eyes open, seeing nothing. It’s my
fault. I should have stuck with the original plan. If I hadn’t shouted at him, he’d be going home to his wife
tonight. Damn! Damn! Damn! Suddenly, he felt something warm spread into his chest. Ginny.

Mafalda had realised that the one left outside had cast the wards. Kill that one and the wards lift. He could just
as well have told Mafalda that Williamson was the one keeping the wards up. Damn it all!

Inside, the four men they’d apprehended were bound and shipped off to the Ministry for interrogation. No one
inside had been hurt. After an initial report to Dawlish, Harry and Ron Apparated Cho to St Mungo's. Ron carried
her unconscious form to the fourth floor. ”Emergency! Auror down,” Harry barked.

Three Healers appeared instantly with a gurney. ”What do you got?”

”She had a shield charm up but took a Reducto to the chest,” Ron grunted, laying her on it.

”All right. We'll take care of her immediately. Take a seat and we will give you a report after our first
examination.

Ron and Harry sat in silence, contemplating their thumbs. They slouched in a couple of chairs waiting for their
adrenaline levels to even out and return to normal. Harry turned the morning’s events over and over in his
mind. Williamson dead, Cho busted up. Seamus knocked out. Four minor Death Eaters arrested, but Mafalda got
away. I should’ve have stuck to the plan! Another warm wave coursed through his body. He let his head fall
backward onto the cushion and let Ginny’s love consume him. He was going to need all the strength he could get

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to make it through this day and it wasn’t nine o’clock yet.

Ron tried to figure out what they might have done wrong, but couldn’t come up with a single flaw in their
execution of their altered plan. Bloody hell. Harry’s blaming himself. There’s a full-scale brood written all over his
face. Ginny’s got her work cut out for her tonight. But he remained silent, not wanting to set off his best mate
and partner right there in the hospital.

By the time the Healer returned, they still hadn't said a word because they were both too lost in their thoughts.
”Miss Chang has five broken ribs, one of them punctured her right lung.” The two young Aurors started at the
sound of the Healer’s voice.

”Will she be all right,” Harry asked insistently.

”There's some minor bleeding and a dislocated shoulder. We managed to stop the bleeding so we could mend her
ribs and reset her shoulder, but she’ll fully healed within a few days. Auror Chang is on a series of potions to
restore the blood she lost. We’d like to keep her here—for now—just for observation. We’ve put off sedating her
so you may have a word if you need to. We will allow you a few minutes in case she has anything she needs to
tell you.”

Harry and Ron were led into a private room. ”Thank you, Healer...”
”Wyatt, Leonard Wyatt. My friends call me Leo,” he replied, shaking both their hands.

”Harry Potter. And this is my partner, Ron Weasley,” Harry told him.

”Ah yes. I’ve heard of you two, of course. Fine work you did last year,” Wyatt said genuinely. ”And please let me
congratulate you on your engagements.”

”Thanks, Leo,” Harry and Ron said in unison. Ron went pink about the ears at the mention of his fortuitous
engagement to such a smart, beautiful, and talented witch such as Hermione Granger. Harry had long-since
come to the point where he took most of that in stride, but he was still proud of his Ginny, Witch Weekly’s Most
Beautiful Witch honouree for the zillionth week in a row.

”Not at all. I’ll leave you to it, then. But please don’t keep her long. She needs to rest,” Healer Wyatt turned to
leave them alone with their wounded comrade.

”Right. Of course. Thanks,” Ron said, as he and Harry approached her bedside.

Cho moved her head slowly. ”Harry? Ron? What happened?”

”You took a Reducto to the chest. Good thing you had a shield up; it saved your life,” Harry told her.

Cho smiled but it was obviously painful trying to laugh. ”It was a stupid thing to do. I should have covered
Seamus better.”

”Don't worry, Cho. Mafalda is just good at what she does and she got away. But you just rest and get well. Do
you want us to tell your family anything,” Harry asked her, taking her hand.

Cho nodded. ”Please tell them I’m okay and that I’d like them to come to St Mungo's,” she said with a wince.

”We will, Cho,” Harry said, giving her hand a squeeze. ”We’re going to go now, so you can get some
well-deserved sleep.” They left her room and the Healers entered to sedate her.

David was confused to say the least. He had been kidnapped, and then his kidnappers were attacked and he was
kidnapped again. No one even cared to explain what was going on. The oddest thing to him was that no one
seemed to know who he was, despite the fact he was one of the most famous football players in the country,
playing for a team that had been riding the crest of a pretty good season with hopes of winning a Treble. Did
they want money? He looked up, blinking, as a young black haired man entered his room.

”Mr... Beckham,” Harry asked, checking a parchment to be sure about his name.

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”Yes. What do you want? Money,” David asked back.

”No, we just wanted to check you over to make sure you weren't injured or cursed. I'm happy to tell you that
our team arrested the four men who kidnapped you. Could you follow me please? We’d like you to identify the
men if you can.”

Beckham looked quizzically at the young man in the strange uniform. He acted like some kind of police officer.
”Just who are you?”

”Oh sorry. I'm Harry Potter, Assistant Head of the Auror Office. After you’ve identified the four men we’ll return
you to your home.”

Beckham was surprised. Mighty damned young to be Assistant Head of anything beyond a student organisation, if
you ask me.” All right, then.” He followed Harry into another room, where the four suspects had been
quarantined. ”Yes. These are them,” David told Harry. ”What happens now. Do I need an attorney?”

”No, that won't be necessary. They’ll be tried according to Wizarding law before the Wizengamot. They were
caught red-handed, so your positive identification and oral deposition will be quite enough.”

Harry escorted him out of the room. Wizarding law? What was that all about? The Assistant Head Order—or
whatever this kid was—took something from another man in a like uniform. A hammer? Strange.

”Mr Beckham, Please hold this hammer.” Too confused to protest he automatically grasped the hammer, as
Harry held it out to him. Next thing David knew, he stood safely outside his own house. Harry pulled his wand
and waved it. David didn't know Harry had just done the very same thing the kidnappers had. He put up one of
the many spells for a ward, effectively making any kind of electronics useless, including any alarm. Next he
opened the door. ”Are your fiancée and son at home?”

”I believe so,” David replied tentatively. What the hell did this kid just do with the stick? This is a dream. It’s
bloody got to be a dream. I’m going to wake up with Vicky in bed next to me and this will all have been a very
bizarre dream. He remembered that he had been about to leave his house last evening to meet some friends.
His fiancée would not have been surprised that he didn't come home until now.

”I would like to ask her a few routine questions, if I may,” Harry said politely.

”Uh, could we...” David started, meaning to ask Harry if they might avoid telling his fiancée about the
kidnapping.

”David, Love, you’re back,” a woman carrying an infant said. ”Who's your friend?”

”I'm Harry Potter, Miss Adams.” Harry introduced himself, grateful to the Muggleworthy Excuse Office that, for
some reason, seemed to know all about this particular Muggle couple and were able to tell him her name. He
pulled his wand and muttered, ”Obliviate,” twice in very rapid succession. He still thought Hermione was much
better at it, but it seemed to work. He cast another spell and altered David's memory to recall his having been at
home the whole time. He altered Miss Adams' memory to match. Harry dismantled the ward and Disapparated
before the couple regained consciousness.

Harry had two more visits to make before heading back to the Auror Office for debriefing. The first was to meet
up with Dawlish and visit Williamson's family. I am not looking forward to this. Two missions, two fatalities.
Damn.

”I’ve never done this before,” Dawlish admitted. ”Kingsley took care of visiting Mrs Robards.” It was a fairly short
and simple procedure. They knocked on Mrs Williamson’s door and nervously introduced themselves.”Mrs
Williamson,” Dawlish asked.

”Yes? I’m Mrs Williamson. Is something wrong,” she asked, bringing her right hand to her heart. ”Is my husband
hurt?”

”I’m Head Auror John Dawlish. This is Assistant Head Auror Harry Potter,” Dawlish said, humbly.

”May we come in?”

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”Of course. Please. Come in and sit down,” she said, ushering them into a tidy little bungalow. ”Can I get you
something to drink? Tea, perhaps?”

”Oh no, thank you. We won’t be long.” Dawlish and Harry looked at each other and tried to put on brave faces.
Since neither had ever really done anything like this before, they weren’t quite sure how to go about it. For
Harry, it was like going to all of those funerals last summer and trying to make sense of all the deaths. For
Dawlish, he was just at a loss. He decided to just forge ahead and let the tears fall where they may.

”Mrs Williamson, your husband has been...killed.” Very smooth, Johnny-boy.

”No! Oh my, no,” she said, raising both hands to cover her mouth. ”What...what happened?” Her eyes brimmed
over with tears as she began to cry.

”We raided a nest of Death Eaters this morning, ma’am,” Harry continued. ”One of them struck him with the
killing curse before she escaped.”

”Oh no! Oh my poor...” Mrs Williamson began to sob in earnest. Harry conjured a handkerchief for her and gave
it to her. It was the least he could do. For a moment, he imagined Ginny in her place learning about his
unfortunate demise. It broke his heart.

”I really appreciate that you came to tell me personally. My husband spoke very highly of both of you,” she
sobbed. ”I know he put himself in danger. He thrived on it. Was he in any pain?”

Harry shook his head. ”The killing curse is painless.”

”Are you sure,” she asked him.

”Yes, I’m very sure,” Harry assured her. ”It was thrown at me less than a year ago. I caught it in the chest.
There's no pain at all... unless you survive it. It left a painful bruise. Your husband died painlessly, I promise.”

Mrs Williamson gasped at Harry, suddenly realising who she was talking to. ”Sorry, Mr Potter, that was a stupid
question to ask you.”

”Don't be sorry. We’re sorry to have to meet like this,” Harry replied kindly.

”Is there someone we should contact,” Dawlish asked lamely. ”Another family member, perhaps?”

”No, thank you. He...he has a brother in Essex, but I can owl him myself. You must have loads of reports to
make. I’m all right, really,” she sniffed.

”If there’s anything we can do, anything we can help with, please don’t hesitate to contact us,” Dawlish offered.
”He will, of course, be buried with the full honours worthy of a Senior Auror such as your husband.”

”Again, Mrs Williamson. We’re very sorry,” Harry said, as he rose to leave.

The left Mrs Williamson with her thoughts and her grief and prepared to Apparate to the Chang home. Harry felt
a little awkward about meeting Cho's parents. After all, he was an ex-boyfriend. Cho told him once that her
parents were proud that their daughter had actually been in a relationship with him, however brief it may have
been. Now he had to tell her she was lying in a St Mungo's hospital bed with an ugly wound in her chest, broken
ribs, and a dislocated shoulder.

They knocked on the door and an Asian man, obviously Cho's father, opened it. He jumped back with a fearful
look on his face when he found his daughter’s superiors on his doorstep.

”Please, may we come in,” Harry asked softly. Harry and Dawlish had agreed that Harry should do the talking
with the Changs, since he knew Cho best.

”Is Cho all right?” Mr Chang’s voice took on a slight waver. ”Is she hurt?”

”Cho’s all right, but on restorative potions at St Mungo's,” Harry told him. ”She was injured on a mission this

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morning. There were a few broken ribs, a punctured a lung, and had some minor bleeding. The Healers have
done a fine job of patching her up and resetting her dislocated shoulder.”

Cho's father seemed to relax, for the most part. ”For a moment I was afraid... that she was dead.”

Harry repeated the information for Mrs Chang as soon as she appeared from the kitchen. ”Cho covered Auror
Finnegan while they tried to catch a Death Eater. But don't worry, she's been busted up worse playing Quidditch
at Hogwarts,” Harry chuckled lightly. ”Comes with being a Seeker.”

”I'm glad you came to tell us, Mr Potter, and that you came too, Mr Dawlish,” Mr Chang said and turned to
Harry, ”Can you promise me one thing?”

”What? Sure, I guess,” Harry asked.

”I know about your history with Cho. If anything happens to her, will you please tell me in person—and what
really happened?”

Harry nodded. ”Before they sedated her, she told us she covered Auror Finnegan in a stupid way. It will probably
be a couple of hours before she's awake.”

”That's our Cho.” her father answered with a pasted-on grin.

”She also asked for you to visit her. She's on Level Four at St Mungo's, but they’ve got her sedated right now.”

”Harry, we need to go back to the Ministry. There’s a mountain of parchment waiting for us, you know,” Dawlish
reminded him. ”And the debriefing.”

”Right, then. We’ll just go,” Harry said, rising from the sofa. ”We’ll check in with her later.”

”Thank you again. And we shall go to St Mungo's right away. Thank you for coming here in person.”

”No problem. Good day, Mr and Mrs Chang.”

Harry and Chief Dawlish left the house and Apparated to the Ministry. ”That went well,” Harry said with a heavy
sigh. They stood waiting for the lift to take them to their floor, little parchment airplanes floating over their
heads. ”At least as well as could be expected.”

”I hope I never have to do that again,” Dawlish said. ”I just don’t have the nerves for that kind of thing. I’m a
ruddy bachelor! I can’t imagine what it might be like for a married man to do this job.”

Their lift arrived and the female voice said, ”Atrium.” Harry and Dawlish stepped in followed by the little
parchment airplanes, and pressed the button for their floor.

”Well, I’m an almost-married man and I can tell you that Ginny is a very brave girl. She handles this pretty
well,” Harry said. ”It takes a very special kind of woman to be an Auror’s wife.”

”Auror Office, Magical Law Enforcement, Muggleworthy Excuse Office, Accidental Magic Reversal Office,” the
female voice said. The lift door opened and the little parchment airplanes darted out ahead of them, scattering
in all directions.

”More power to her,” Dawlish said, slapping Harry on the back. ”Let’s get this over with.”

At the debriefing, each team leader gave his report as Thompson handed hard copies on parchment to Dawlish
and Harry. Terry Boot represented Team A in Cho’s absence with his report about having spotted Mafalda
without being seen. That hideout would be kept under guard in case she returned.

”Team B,” Dawlish called.

Seamus stood. ”We got nothin’, sir. We were called ta Harry’s location before we could move in.”

”Very good, Finnegan. Team C,” Dawlish called again as Seamus sat down with his team.

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Harry summarised their investigation and how they’d seen Mafalda arrive. They pieced together the events
during the battle, as each team arrived. Finally, Harry reported that the Muggle hostage had been rescued and
returned to his family after having identified his kidnappers and then he and his fiancée were obliviated.

”How did we end up with one dead and one in St Mungo's,” Dawlish asked.

”I exposed Auror Williamson,” Harry admitted. ”I shouted for him to take cover, which helped Mafalda figure out
that he'd cast the wards.”

”I think she knows enough about Ministry operations to know there's someone stationed outside keeping the
wards up,” Ron said so as to defend his partner. ”She knew that if she killed him, she could escape.”

”You tried to save him, Harry,” Smith agreed. ”Williamson should have known better than to step out into the
open like that.”

Dawlish agreed with Smith. It was a difficult thing to be the one keeping the wards on a mission. The
ward-keeper had to stay under cover and was not to risk exposure to save another Auror.

”Our main task now is to learn what we can from our suspects. However, I doubt they know very much,” Dawlish
speculated.

”One thing we learned is that Mafalda is definitely after Muggles,” Ron concluded.

Harry and Ron joined Arthur and Percy in the Ministry restaurant for lunch. Harry and Ron were still a bit
awkward eating there because many people still looked at the two celebrity employees. Having a chocolate frog
with the coffee was also embarrassing, especially if they got their own cards. They walked into the restaurant to
find Arthur and Percy waving them to their table.

”Hello, how is work at the Auror Office,” Arthur asked them. ”You two look rather grim.”

”We had an operation this morning. It started out simple enough, but then it got...messy. Four arrests, one
Muggle hostage returned home, Cho injured, but all right,” Harry said, staring at his hands.

”Williamson took the killing curse, Dad,” Ron continued. ”He was the ward-keeper, but he exposed himself.
Mafalda got him.”

”First Mr Robards, now Mr Williamson. Soon, the old Aurors will be gone entirely,” Percy said with a sigh.

Arthur just shook his head slowly. ”I’d known them both for years.”

Harry and Ron nodded. There were not many of the old ones left. ”What are you doing today,” Ron asked them.

”I'm going through the Wizengamot archive,” Percy revealed enthusiastically.

”That sounds... boring,” Ron replied with a snort.

”There are a lot of interesting parchments stuffed in there,” Percy protested. ”It’s loaded with history,
precedence, all kinds of useful information.”

”Well, have your...fun,” Ron said ironically and looked up at his father.

”With the war over and most of the Death Eaters taken into custody, my office might have outlived its purpose. I
just finished and posted a report to Kingsley. I suggested that we allow the staff to be transferred to the Magical
Law Enforcements Squads, where they can continue this work, but also do a lot of other work.”

”What will you do, Dad?”

”I'll let Kingsley worry about that. I'll gladly return to my old office.”

”Dad, I think Kingsley will need you for a better job. He does need everyone he can trust,” Percy claimed.

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Lunch continued with talk about the wedding. It was now only just over two months away. Harry asked Arthur
how Molly was coming along with the arrangements.

”She's like a general planning her greatest campaign. She's coordinating everything. By the way, you have to
decide on either Hogwarts or the Burrow. Molly has been promised every ward and protective spell there is
around the Burrow by Kingsley himself. She and Lee have also taken care of an exclusive press contract with Mr
Lovegood for you. She and Kreacher are finished with the menu,” Arthur said proudly and not a little amused.

”Isn’t this a bit much for one woman and a house-elf? Isn’t there something we can do,” Harry asked a little
alarmed. ”She’s going to do herself in at this rate!”

”Not at all, son! Not at all! She loves every minute of it,” Arthur smiled. ”Don't feel bad about Molly doing a lot
of work on your wedding. Ever since our Ginny was born, arranging her wedding has been her dream. It keeps
her busy, what with an empty nest and all.”

Lunch hour passed quickly as Harry capped it off with a cup of coffee and chocolate frog. Luncheon of champions,
Harry! ”Another Hermione...” Harry sighed as he picture grinned and waved at him before she left the card.

”Do you want it,” he asked Ron.

”I prefer the live version,” Ron grinned. ”And I do have twenty of her cards already.”

”Why do you have twenty,” Percy asked incredulously.

”I can't ruddy well throw away my own fiancée’s card, can I,” Ron said defensively.

Harry blushed. ”I know what you mean. I have eighteen of Ginny’s...so far.”

”You two eat far too many chocolate frogs,” Percy said with a huff.

Arthur blushed.

”Dad?”

”I have twelve Harry, fifteen Ginny, eight Hermione and ten Ron...I can't bring myself to throw any of them
away... it’d be like chucking out my children.”

After lunch, Harry and Ron returned to the Auror Office. They still had paperwork to finish and they had to start
with the interrogations. Seamus, Lavender, and Susan were already away taking the first shift at the London
flat. The rest were at the office drowning in their own paperwork.

Harry and Ron took one prisoner in one holding cell, Boot and Goldstein the second, Dawlish and Smith the third
and Richards and Thompson handled the fourth. Initial interrogations were scheduled for this afternoon. A
summary was to be turned in at the day's end, with further questioning tomorrow. Harry and Ron entered the
cell where their prisoner was kept and imperturbed it.

”Potty an’ ‘is Weasel,” the Death Eater sneered.

Harry wasn't provoked. ”Ron, don't you appreciate the rare occurrence when someone who doesn't know who we
are?”

”Oh yes, it's very nice,” Ron answered sarcastically, turning to the prisoner. ”I'm Ronald Weasley.”

”And I’m Harry Potter.”

The prisoner looked at them and spat at their feet. ”I know ’oo you are.”

”And who might you be,” Ron asked in an even tone.

”Bugger off. You, Weasel, go and taint yourself by shaggin’ that filthy Mudblood of yours. Couldn’t get a decent

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shag, could you? Bet you Imperiused that wench of yours.” Ron turned red and made a move for his wand. Harry
stopped him.

”And you, Potty, son of a Mudblood ’ore. Yer daddy was just as disgustin’ as yer Weasel friend,” the prisoner
continued to rant.

”You...” Harry started, ”... should be very happy that we have to follow Auror procedure. But don't imagine
that’ll be pleasant, unless you tell us what we want to know. The Magical Law Enforcement Squads hold very
limited authority. We Aurors hold nearly-unlimited authority to get the answers we need,” Harry warned him
with a fixed glare.

”Veritaserum, the Cruciatus curse, Legilimency... we won't hesitate for a second to get it approved. You were
apprehended while guarding a kidnapped Muggle and are under arrest for crimes against the Secrecy Act. As
you know, that is one of the constitutional laws of our community and the punishment for breaking it is very
harsh.
If you cooperate, you might get out of it with a lighter sentence and won't spend the rest of your life in prison.
And if you’re really lucky, Minister Shacklebolt might have the Dementor's Kiss outlawed. But as you know,
proceedings in the Wizengamot can take years to work out.”

The prisoner paled whiter by a second. ”I don't know anything.”

”I wish I could believe you,” Harry said coldly.

”I won't tell you anything.” The man tried to maintain his mask of false bravado, but neither Harry nor Ron were
buying it.

”Ron,” Harry said. ”We’d better take a break in order to have that Cruciatus curse approved.”

Harry and Ron didn't listen to the prisoner's pleas for mercy and left. Outside the cell, Ron turned to Harry.
”You’re Assistant Head. You can authorize anything.”

”I know. I just want to make him nervous enough to spill his guts. Hopefully we won't have to use anything on
him. You know how I feel about that.”

”Yeah, but he doesn’t,” Ron chuckled conspiratorially.

”Precisely.”

After half an hour, a spot of tea, and a good laugh, they returned. The prisoner was a lot more cooperative this
time. Harry had a parchment that the prisoner thought was the permission to torture him. In reality, it was the
first internal memo Harry had gotten his hands on, simply alerting Ministry personnel that Funny Floo Powder
had been found in several of the Floo powder pots near the fireplaces in the Atrium.

”Puh-please... don't ’urt me,” the prisoner begged.

”What? No more insults? Whether we hurt you or not is entirely up to you,” Ron growled into the man’s face.

The prisoner sighed, sweat pouring off his pasty brow. ”I...I didn't even want to work for ’er!”

Harry and Ron sat down and looked at him with raised eyebrows, ready to listen. “Go on,” Harry said
emotionless.

”Look, I ’ad this friend who got me in with a lot o’ Snatchers during the war, see. I didn't care too much about
the Death Eaters, but as the war went on, I was forced to do more and more of their...stuff...and it just ruddy
snowballed,” the man claimed, his voice taking on a higher pitch. He darted his eyes back and forth between
Harry and Ron, subliminally begging them to believe him.

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”After the war, I couldn't ruddy well quit, so I ended up with ’er. At...at first I was proud to be called a Death
Eater, but after a while, I got nervous. I wanted out, but I stayed out o’ fear. That mad bint is bleedin’ vicious!”
He’d begun to shake, wild-eyed and sweating.

Harry looked at the man. He seemed to be telling the truth. How many other lesser DEs hung on for the same
reason?

”What was your function in the organization,” Ron asked.

”I was with them three other blokes you got when you got me. We watched that Muggle's ’ouse, and we moved
in to snatch ’im, see. She got all bent out o’ shape, because she ’adn’t ordered it.” The man sneered at the
thought.

”Why were you watching his home,” Ron asked, his voice even and devoid of sympathy.

”Well, I ’onestly don't know that, do I? She wanted us to take ’im if she ordered us, but for what, I’m sure I don't
know.” The man slumped down in the chair he’d been magically bound to and hung his shaggy head.

Harry considered him and then handed him a quill and a parchment. ”Please, write down everything you know. I
can't make you any promises, but your cooperation so far will certainly influence your trial in a positive way.”

The prisoner shakily accepted the quill and parchment, giving the two young Aurors a baleful look. He
understood he stood at the mercy of the two men at whom he’d just hurled epithets less than an hour before. He
would end up in prison, that much he knew. Staying loyal to her wouldn't help him, but on the other hand he
didn't know very much at all. She had used him and involved him in severe crimes. The thanks would be to
spend perhaps the rest of his life in prison. All he could do was to cooperate and hope these two Aurors stand up
for him at his trial. That way, he might be out in twenty or thirty years.

Dawlish gathered the Aurors to collect their reports. All of them had learned just as much as Harry and Ron. The
four arrested were former Snatchers. They didn't know anything but the order to guard the Muggle home and
move in if ordered to. At least that confirmed their suspicion that Mafalda was targeting Muggles, and at least
this one was famous among the Muggles.

”Why would she be interested in famous Muggles,” Smith asked.

”She obviously doesn't care about them as celebrities, but she must think she can make some use of them,” Ron
said, examining his fingernails, his feet propped on a table.

Ron Weasley cut quite a figure among the other Aurors. At six-feet five-inches tall and weighing in at nearly
seventeen stone, he towered above all of them and outweighed them handily. Even though he held no official
authority over any of them, he had a way of commanding their respect with a single flash of his blue eyes, but
he could just as easily disarm them with a lopsided grin and a joke.

”I think we need to bring in a Muggle on this case,” Harry said abruptly.

”Are you mental,” Ron roared, dropping his feet from the table and sitting up straight in his chair, his fingernails
promptly forgotten. The other Aurors jumped as their huge colleague reacted to their Assistant Chief’s
statement. They were further awed that Ron had the stones to talk to Harry Potter that way.

”I was thinking about Dudley, you prat,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. ”He could give us a Muggle perspective. We
also need to keep Hermione up-to-date on this case. If we miss anything, she’ll find it.”

”Oh. Right. Cousin Dudders.” Ron felt very proud that Harry had spoken so highly of his Hermione in front of the
other Aurors. Harry spoke the truth, but it didn't stop him from sticking his barrel-size chest out with pride.

”All right,” Dawlish decided. ” Potter, you get that Muggle perspective. Weasley, I assume you can talk to that
brilliant fiancée of yours. Smith and Richards, you’re the lucky bastards who get to take the graveyard shift at
the flat.” Smith and Richards moaned, but nodded their assent. ”Dismissed, people.” Dawlish had adopted
Harry’s term for the Aurors as a group. It was intimate, but casual at the same time and really gave the Aurors
a sense of belonging—almost like a family.

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Harry and Ron felt very tired when they got back to Hogwarts that evening. He and Ron parted at the top of the
stone staircase, each heading for his own room and fiancée. Harry stumbled into their room, exhausted and on
the verge of a healthy brood. Ginny was at Quidditch practice, so he thought he’d get some rest before she
returned.

A very dirty Ginny returned an hour later only to find a snoring Harry sprawled out on the bed. Even though he
was asleep, she could tell something bothered him because his arm was thrown over his forehead. She knew
something ugly had happened that morning when she felt his surge of alarm and then worry. Still, she didn’t
have the heart to wake him yet, so she just took a shower and cuddled up next to him.

”Ginny love,” he mumbled.

”Yes. I’m here,” she whispered.

Harry opened his eyes and beheld a dream. He was amazed how after all this time, he still could feel as though
he’d been struck by her beauty for the very first time. Her warm chocolate eyes and beautiful red hair dazzled
him.

She leaned down and kissed him tenderly, allowing her love to flow into him. He was troubled and she knew it.
She could feel it coursing through their bond like a river.

Reluctantly, she broke the kiss and gazed into his darkened emerald eyes. ”I saw that man die this morning,
Harry. Who was he?”

He noticed she was fresh from the shower and her flowery strawberry scent was stronger than usual and it
invigourated him while it intoxicated him. ”You saw that,” Harry asked snapping out of his reverie.

”Yes. I felt a despair from you and then the image flashed before my eyes,” Ginny said stroking his cheek with
her soft hand.

”His name was Williamson. He was one of the senior Aurors. In fact, he was on the panel that tested me. He
kept our anti-Apparition ward up, but Mafalda killed him and escaped,” Harry said as his eyes darkened some
more. ”Cho was hurt too. No worse than in a Quidditch match, but she has to stay at St Mungo's for observation.
But she probably saved Seamus from ending up there. I don’t think he had a shield charm up.”

”She might saved his life,” Ginny asked.

Harry nodded. ”We got four former Snatchers. They didn't know too much about Mafalda’s plans, only their little
part in it. Ron’ll talk to Hermione and I am going to see Dudley tomorrow, to get a Muggle perspective. You see,
they had kidnapped a famous Muggle.”

”I'm sorry I can't be of much help there. I don't know much about the Muggles,” Ginny said.

”Let's hope Hermione can help us. After all she knows the Muggle world pretty well. By the way, Ron and I had
lunch with your dad and Percy today.”

”Did you? What did you talk about,” she asked. I’ll let him prattle on until he prattles himself into his ruddy
brood. Then I’ll get him to talk about what’s really bothering him.

The mission, the wedding...Chocolate Frog cards. He has fifteen of you, you know,” Harry said with a half-smile.
”They’re the limited-editions, too. He’ll make a fortune on them...if he can ever bring himself to part with
them.”

”Dad really has fifteen of my cards,” Ginny giggled. ”Unbe-freakin-lievable!”

”He's so proud of you, you know,” Harry said, sobering. ”He asked us to settle the location for the wedding. He
says Kingsley’s promised the Burrow all the wards the Ministry can provide.”

”I really would love to get married at the Burrow,” Ginny confessed.

”Me too,” Harry agreed, running his fingers through her soft and slightly-damp mane.

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”It's the one place I’ve always been happy. Hogwarts means a lot to me, but there’re too many bad memories
here,” Ginny sighed. ”I want to get married at home.”

”Mmm...sounds like a wonderful idea to me,” Harry agreed, pulling her into a kiss. ”I’m so glad you’re marrying
me, Gin.” Though his kiss was passionate and full of his love, there was melancholy in it. She could feel it and it
nearly broke her heart.

”Harry.”

”Yes, Gin.”

”What’s troubling you?”

”Shows, does it?”

”I’m afraid so. Your heartache is flowing through me like bad mead,” she said. ”You’re blaming yourself, aren’t
you? About Cho and Williamson.”

”Gin, it was my fault Williamson was killed. I exposed him,” Harry said as tears began to trickle from his eyes
down the side of his face.

”Tell me why you think you exposed him,” she said, stroking his messy hair.

”I don’t know how to explain this to you,” he moaned.

”Try.”

”This was supposed to just be a snooping mission, like I told you last night. Cho’s team spotted Mafalda leaving
one of their assigned locations. Tony Goldstein reported it,” Harry explained.

”Okay, so far, so good,” Ginny said. ”Go on.”

”At the same time, Ron, Williamson, and I were watching a house in a Muggle village Mafalda and her father
used to summer in. She Apparated right in the yard,” he said.

”And...?”

”I notified Dawlish’s team and they came. Then he called in the others to our location. We changed the plan,”
Harry said guiltily. ”We changed the bloody plan and went in. They had a hostage, Gin. Some Muggle footballer
called Beckham.”

”And then what?”

”We sneaked up on the house. Williamson put up the wards, like I told you, and then we blasted our way into
the place.” Harry began to shake. Ginny pulled him up to rest his head on her breast as she continued to stroke
his hair and place little kisses on his furrowed brow. Harry shuddered.

”Okay. Go on.”

”There were only two doors on the house, front and back and we had them covered. Nobody could get in or out
magically. Williamson was the ward-keeper, so he was to remain outside and mind the wards, but stay out of
sight. Ron, Cho, Seamus, Tony Goldstein, and I found Mafalda and four DEs in a back room with the hostage.
Seamus opened the door a little and I tossed in a few of the stunning bombs George and Ron invented, then Ron
blew the damned door out of the wall, frame and all. He throws one helluva Bombarda,” Harry chuckled.

”He’s at least enthusiastic, yeah?” Ginny giggled and then said, ”go on, then.”

”The stunners dazed the four DEs, but they weren’t strong enough to penetrate Mafalda’s shield. She threw
herself out a window, but I caught her with a quick Levicorpus mid-flight. Seamus and Cho dove out after her.
Dawlish tended to the prisoners and sent Ron and me to help them,” Harry said, his voice beginning to quiver as

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he shook.

”Take a few deep breaths, love. Calm down. I’m not going anywhere,” Ginny cooed, kissing his sweating
forehead and holding him close.
”By the time Ron and I got out there, Cho was already down. Ron said she’d taken a Reducto to the chest, but
must’ve had a shield up because the damage was nothing like it could have been. Seamus had been dueling her
alone and not having an easy time of it,” he told her. ”Seamus went down with Legilimency from Mafalda. I
turned on Mafalda and gave her the chance to surrender. I was about to stun her. Then, the next thing I knew,
Williamson stepped out of his cover, I’m guessing to help Seamus, so I... I shouted at him to get back and stay
safe.” Harry began to sob.

Ginny continued to hold him and kiss him and stroke his hair. ”Shh, Harry, love. Shhh.” She sent a gentle wave
of her love through their bond to calm him and mend his breaking heart.

”Then...then she fired the killing curse at Williamson. It caught him in the hip. I tried to stop her, Gin, I tried!
But once she’d taken out Williamson, the wards fell and she Disapparated. Williamson’s dead, Cho’s busted up
and the little bitch got away! And it’s all my fault,” Harry wailed. ”First Robards and now Williamson!”

”Harry, my sweet, sweet Harry. This wasn’t your fault. Williamson didn’t follow procedure by stepping out into
the open like that. He made himself vulnerable. You gave him an order, nothing more. She must’ve known...”

”She knew. Too right, she knew. That’s why she killed him. But if we hadn’t changed the plan. If I’d kept my
mouth shut...” He turned his face into her breast and cried, soaking her shirt. He held on to her waist like a
frightened child.
There, there, my darling raven boy. ”Whose idea was it to move in,” Ginny asked, holding him tightly to her
breast. ”Who decided to take a golden opportunity to trap Mafalda and bring her in?”

”Mine, but Dawlish went along with it. We had a shot, Gin. I felt like we had to...we had to...”

”You had to try, Harry. The odds were in your favour. You had to try and you set it up beautifully,” she reminded
him. ”But all it takes is one mistake, one deviation, and accidents can happen. Harry, Williamson’s death was an
accident, an unfortunate twist of fate, just like Robards’. Mafalda killed Williamson and a DE killed Robards, not
you.”

”But if I hadn’t shouted at him...”

”Harry, if he hadn’t stepped out of his cover—an act contrary to solid procedure—you wouldn’t have needed to
shout at him.”

”But...”

”But nothing, Harry. Williamson was murdered by my third cousin because he didn’t do what he was supposed
to. Am I saying Williamson’s death is his own fault? Partially, yes. Mafalda still made the choice to murder him
rather than surrender. You tried to prevent that by shouting him back to his cover. Unfortunately, she knew the
rules too and used them to her advantage,” Ginny explained.

”I suppose. Dawlish and the rest said the same thing,” Harry admitted. ”Even Ron...”

”Ron’s a smart man...sometimes. Harry, if Dawlish and the others agree it’s not your fault, then you need to
stop blaming yourself right now! If you go on like this and torture yourself, she’s won. She’s achieved her goal
to make you suffer because she knows you have a noble heart and that you love so intensely, so desperately...”
Ginny’s own voice began to falter as tears coursed down her cheeks. ”Harry, please don’t do this to yourself.
You’re a good man, a good Auror. Mourn Robards. Mourn Williamson. But please stop blaming yourself.”

Harry turned and sat up. He propped himself against the pillows and the headboard and pulled her into his lap.
”Ginny, baby, please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I...I love you and I hate to see you cry. I promise I’ll try harder not to
blame myself for stuff, but old habits die hard.” He placed tearful kisses into her hair.

”Just don’t just let them win, Harry,” Ginny said between clenched teeth. ”Don’t let her win!”

”We’ll beat them. Together,” Harry promised, tears still flowing down his face and into her hair. They lay there

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for several moments, passing the unspoken thing between them. ”Gin?”

”Yes?” There was still a hint of tears in her voice.

”Have I told you how lucky I am that you’re marrying me?”

”At least a dozen times. Can you believe it’s less than three months away,” Ginny asked him rubbing her face
into his shirt to dry her tears.

”I can’t wait until you’re really my wife,” Harry said, stroking her soft tresses. ”Shall I see if Kreacher’ll bring us
some supper right here?”

”I’d like that. I really don’t want to be with a load of people right now. I just want to lay here in your arms
tonight,” Ginny said, raising her face to kiss him. ”No people...no homework...mmm, that’s nice.” Harry drew his
tongue across her throat and began to nip at her pulse point, gently stroking her neck.

”Is this nice, too,” he whispered into her ear, nibbling at her ear lobe.

”Mmm...yes...no Quidditch...no Ministry. Just you and me and...chocolate-dipped...mmm... strawberries.” She


raised up and crushed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his neck. He slipped his hands under her shirt
and pulled her in closer to his chest.
Chocolate-dipped strawberries? Potter, you’re a very lucky man. He tore his lips away from hers. ”Kreacher!”

Her quill danced furiously across the parchment while she concentrated. Ron had been standing there watching
her for several minutes. She hadn’t heard him come in. She was so beautiful with her head bent over her work
as she bit her bottom lip. She’s so hot when she does that lip thing. He had to do it. He had to interrupt her, so
he strode over behind her and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

”Dear,” Ron asked quietly, in case it was an important essay Hermione was writing. Any essay is important to
her.

”Yes,” Hermione said without looking at him.

”Whenever you're ready,” Ron said.

He let go of her, crossed the room, and stretched out on their bed with his hands clasped behind his shaggy red
head. He lay there and just watched her. His eyes danced as he grinned at her. Merlin, she’s gorgeous. She was
sitting at their desk, or rather her desk, still concentrating, still writing. Ron had a desk at the Ministry now, and
he hardly used that one. So far, he worked with Harry all the time, and since he had his own office, it was far
more practical to dump everything there rather on his own desk.

Hermione was focused and concentrating. In Ron's eyes, she could hardly be more beautiful than she was right
there, right now. It was so much Hermione sitting like that; he knew she absolutely loved studying and writing
and he loved to watch her do it. She’s so intense. Lucky for him, she also had a complete mental side. It was the
only explanation, as least for Ron, as to why she had fallen in love with him. A quarter of an hour later, Ron still
stared with a Cheshire grin across his freckled face, feeling like the luckiest bloke in the world. Hermione put the
quill away and turned to Ron.

”What are you looking at,” she asked.

”You,” Ron answered. ”You look so beautiful when you sit there like that and write.”

Hermione blushed. She appreciated that Ron considered her beautiful, and even though she knew he meant it,
she would never think of herself as beautiful—not even cute or good-looking. The fact that she was number
three on Witch Weekly’s “Most Beautiful Witch” list was something she completely disregarded. Ginny was
Number One on that list, and Hermione had supported that, despite Ron's vomiting grimace.

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Cho was number two. Hermione understood completely that Ron wouldn't think of his own sister as the country's
most beautiful witch, but she had fruitlessly tried to get him to admit that Cho looked better than her and
deserved the Number Two spot. The four of them had often talked about it, but Ginny only sighed about being
Number One.

Harry had agreed wholeheartedly with Witch Weekly, however, he blushed when Cho was mentioned, something
both Ginny and Hermione had a lot of fun with him about. Harry had commented Hermione being Number
Three. ”Hermione, you’re a girl...” he started imitating Ron from fourth year.

”Yeah, ’Mione. You’re a girl,” Ron said, pulling her up from her chair at the desk. ”How about we let that go for
now, yeah?”

”Ronald, what are you...”

”This,” Ron whispered as he pressed his lips to hers and unclasped her robes. ”Only this, love.” Her robes fell to
the floor and he began to run his hands up under her jumper to fumble with the buttons of her blouse
underneath.
”Ron, I’ve got this essay for...” Hermione protested weakly. ”I...”

”What’s an essay,” he murmured into her neck. ”I want to study you.” Ron finished with the buttons and set to
pulling the blouse free from the waistband of her skirt.

Hermione began to sigh and keen, raising her arms over her head so Ron could pull her jumper off.
”Umm...Ron.” She plucked at the clasp on his maroon and gold Auror’s robes and let it fall free. She slipped it off
and let it drop to the floor. His well-developed biceps rippled under his tight tee shirt.

”Who is this god standing before me?” She pulled the shirt from the waistband of his khaki trousers and drew it
over his muscular chest. He pulled back enough to help her pull it over his head. She began to plant kisses
across his chest as he released the clasps holding her bra together.

Ron found the zipper on the left side of her skirt and slowly eased it down as she kissed his chest. ”’Mione,” he
moaned. Her skirt fell to the floor, leaving her standing there in nothing but her lace knickers and her
knee-socks. ”My goddess, my love,” he growled as he attacked her pulse point. ”So beautiful.”

She pressed up against him and felt the full force of his arousal straining against the metal zipper holding it
back against its will. She eased the zipper down and reached inside. ”Ron, it’s magnificent,” she moaned, and
knelt before him. He threw his head back and closed his eyes.

”Ronald Weasley! What on earth are you doing?”

”What? ’Mione? Bloody hell,” Ron dropped his eyes to his lap and then looked up into the horrified, but amused
face of his fiancée.

”I just told you I was finished with my essay. You didn’t answer, so I thought you’d fallen asleep. I guess not.”
She began to giggle seductively at his predicament.

There he sat, having taken matters in hand. His mind had wandered as he watched her work. He wanted the
floor to open up and swallow him—no, not swallow. Bloody hell!

”Crookshanks got your tongue, Ronald?” Hermione crawled up on the bed, her eyes glued to his lap. ”Or are you
just...happy to see me?”

”’Mione, I...”

”Shhh. Let me help,” she said quietly as she took his hand away and kissed it. ”Was it something like this?”

”Uh...yeah...no! Oh gods...” Whatever it was Ron had wanted to talk to Hermione about had escaped him
entirely. He was too caught up in this moment for any coherent thought to worm its way through. ”Merlin, but I
love you,” he sighed.

”I know,” she said and he was gone again.

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They lay in one another’s arms, completely spent. ”Ron?”

”Yes, ’Mione?”

”What did you want to talk to me about before...you know,” she asked playing with the fine ginger hairs around
his navel.

He jumped. ”That tickles, Love,” he snickered. ”I can’t tell you if you keep doing that.” His hypnotising blue eyes
danced as he laughed. Hermione loved to hear him laugh.

”Okay,” she said, sliding her hand up to his chest to draw little circles. ”This better?” His eyes. His glorious blue
eyes. She lay her head down on his chest and snuggled under his chin.

Ron tightened his grip around her shoulders and ran his hand up and down her arm. ”Much. We lost another of
the older ones today,” Ron said.

”What? How,” Hermione asked, looking up into his face. ”Who?”

”Williamson. He took a killing curse from Mafalda. Harry’s blaming himself, but it was an accident. Cho took a
Reducto to the chest, but her shield kept the damage to a minimum. Seamus dueled Mafalda alone after Cho
went down and got knocked out too, but he’s all right. None of it was Harry’s fault,” Ron explained.

”But...I thought there wasn’t supposed to be a fight. You and Harry told us this was just snooping,” Hermione
said, now shaking.

”Shh, Love. It was supposed to be that way, but we had an opportunity and we had to try. Dawlish went along
with it.” Ron held her close and told her the whole story. ”So Harry’s brooding again and Ginny’s got her work
cut out for her.”

”She’ll bring him round, Ron. She has a way with him we never had,” Hermione assured him, snuggling into his
neck.

”Merlin’s pants,” Ron cried.

”What? What is it, Ron?” Hermione sat up with a start, reaching for her wand.

”We’re missing supper!” He threw himself off the bed and began to dress, nearly tripping over his trousers as he
hopped around the room trying to pull them on as he hunted for a shirt.

”You ravenous git,” she laughed. ”Slow down before you hurt yourself!” She had pulled a shirt and a pair of
jeans out of the closet.

Soon they were both dressed. They extinguished the fireplace and sprinted out the door hand-in-hand, laughing
all the way to the staircase that led to the Great Hall.

Mafalda swore. She was so angry that she did unintentional magic. She had Apparated to a location no one but
she knew of. The Aurors had invaded one of her safe houses. And what lousy timing, too. Fortunately the four
men they took didn't know anything important, but they had escaped their punishment.

First of all, she had to do damage control. How would this incident affect her plan? Secondly, she had to
Imperius Malfoy. He was the only one she could get to that could reach Potter and learn something about what
was going on at the Ministry and in the Auror Office. She also needed to check her other teams and remind
them to act only on her orders.

This had been a major setback. She was lucky to have escaped. If that Auror who was keeping the wards had
followed procedure and stayed hidden, she would probably have been caught. There had been three Aurors and

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two of them were Potter and Weasley. She didn't overestimate her powers, or dare to underestimate theirs. In a
duel one on one, she might win, but against the two of them, not a chance.

After a damage control and a close evaluation of her situation, she would have to decide when to go ahead with
her plan. If she acted now, the Aurors might have more attention on the Muggles than usual. But if she waited,
they could learn about her plan. If they could get to one safe house, there was a risk they could get to the
others. If they took her servant while he was doing her bidding... Mafalda thought about it for a while and called
for him.

He opened the door. ”Yes, my lady,” he said bowing.

”You have been a loyal servant. Unfortunately there is something I need you to do right now and it will be you
final task as my servant. Petrificus Totalis!”

He looked in surprise at her as she caught him in a full body bind hex. ”You know too much and I can't afford
having anyone with your knowledge wandering about waiting to be captured by that damnable Harry Potter and
my equally damnable third cousin.” Mafalda growled, as she pointed her wand at him again.

He stared back at her, his eyes filled with terror. Yes, he had promised to serve her until he died doing so, he
never imagined that being killed by her would be necessary. ”Avada Kedavra,” Mafalda snarled and a green bolt
hit the servant square in the sternum. She sighed, thinking about how hard it would be to find a new servant.

A/N As you probably understand the climax of this story will be the final confrontation between Harry with the
Aurors and Mafalda with her Death Eaters. We are now in April 1999. As a Manchester United fan I couldn't resist
mentioning the Treble they won this year.

Chapter 19: New Alliances


[View Online] [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Chapter 19 – New Alliances

Dudley and Penny had a lie-in this morning. Neither of them had any classes today and exams were still a
month off, so they decided to lounge around and enjoy a free day together. They lay in one another’s arms,
chatting between kisses and caresses. Penny had more or less moved into Dudley’s flat with him, since she’d
spent so many nights there over the past few months. If they could have afforded it, they would have found a
larger place, but that would have to wait until they finished their studies.

They had just finished a healthy snog when a knock came at the door. ”Yeah, coming,” Dudley yelled. He
reluctantly slid out of bed and went to the door and opened it to find his cousin standing there. ”Harry,” he said
a bit surprised. ”Please, come in.”

”Dudley, good to see you,” Harry said as he walked through the door. ”Oh... H-hello, Penny! I'm not intruding,
am I?”

”Blimey, no. We're just having a day off. Soon we'll have to focus on exams,” Dudley replied. ”They’re going to
be brutal. All those ruddy manuals.”

”Tell me about it. Hermione and Ginny are already planning their studies schedules to survive their NEWTs,”
Harry said. ”So much to remember, plus practical application. Ron and I are ready to do what we can to support
them.”

”NEWTs? What newt,” Dudley asked, scratching his head. ”And don’t tell me it’s a ruddy lizard.”

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Harry laughed at his cousin’s jab. ”Okay, I won’t tell you it’s a ruddy lizard; it’s a ruddy salamander,” Harry
teased. ”No, seriously. It stands for Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test, the final exam after seven years at
Hogwarts.”

Dudley laughed. ”You’ve always been a bit of a smart arse, Harry. Is that the official name?”
Me? A smart arse? Dad would be proud. ”Sure,” Harry replied. ”At the end of fifth year, we had to sit our OWLs.
Ordinary Wizarding Levels. The students just call them owls and newts.”

”At least they don't try to hide the fact that NEWT is a demanding exam. How are you Harry, apart from getting
married soon?”

”Well...I'm an Auror now, so I certainly understand about having to learn a library of manuals and all the laws
and stuff. I’ve been with the Auror Office only a short time and I’ve already got my hands full,” Harry said.

”What’s going on,” Penny asked, opening the refrigerator. ”Dudley, Love. Put some tea on, yeah?”

”Right. So...a tough case, then?” Dudley put the kettle on while Penny rattled skillets and pots around.

”Yeah. We're up against a very nasty Death Eater. We’ve lost two veteran Aurors so far. That’s why I’m here,”
Harry said.

”What can we do,” Dudley asked, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. ”I mean, this is a Wizarding case,
isn’t it?”

”It is, but she’s targeting Muggles, Dud, and we could use a Muggle perspective.”

Penny made scrambled eggs and toast, and insisted that Harry have some whether he’d eaten already or not.
They sat down to breakfast and Harry began to unravel Mafalda’s story. ”... and yesterday, we arrested four of
her Death Eaters who’d kidnapped a famous Muggle. But we can't piece together what she might have wanted
with him. Basically, she doesn't care a fig about Muggles, but there must be a reason why she wanted this one.”

”Who was it,” Penny asked, taking a bite of toast.”We haven't heard anything in the news about any celebrity
kidnappings.”

”It was a football player. A David Beckham,” Harry told them.

Dudley spit tea and egg across the table onto the wall. ”You rescued David Beckham?”

”Do you know him?” Harry’d been so ensconced in the Wizarding community, he had never heard of the man
until the day he rescued him.

”Of course! Well, not personally...” the sports-interested Penny and Dudley answered in chorus. ”He's playing for
Manchester United and for the national team. How come it's nowhere in our news that he was kidnapped?”

”After we got him out, I returned him to his home and removed any memory of his ordeal and then altered both
his and his fiancée's memories. They both think they spent a quiet night at home.”

Both Dudley and Penny started at Harry and then at each other. ”You met him, and were in his home, and you
met Posh,” Penny asked, completely awed.

Harry looked confused. ”Posh?”

”Victoria Adams, soon to be Mrs Beckham, his fiancée...” Penny clarified as if it was the most natural thing in the
world.

”Yes, I suppose I met Posh, but all I really did to her was wipe her memory and give her an altered one. Are you
saying those two are famous in the Muggle world?” Harry was really out of the Muggle loop, although he’d lived
most of his life in the Muggle world. But then again, what access did he have to the media? He hadn’t been
allowed to watch television, nor had been allowed to listen to Dudley’s stereo. How could he have know about

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singers and sports figures?

”Harry, my dear cousin,” Dudley began. ”David Beckham is one of this country's most famous football players.”

”And his fiancée is a famous singer with The Spice Girls, whom I absolutely love, by the way,” Penny offered.
”Posh is her nickname.”

”I can tell you that most people in the Wizarding world have never heard of them. And that’s our big mystery,
Dud,” Harry sighed, running his hands through his raven locks. ”What would Mafalda Prewett gain by kidnapping
them? What effect would it have on the Muggle world, and how would it be a threat to the Wizarding world?”

Dudley and Penny thought about it for a while. ”One thing is certain. There would be a lot of publicity in our
media about it,” Penny stated.

”Every bloody police department from here to Iceland and back would be working round the clock,” Dudley filled
in. ”They’d be all over it.”

”But that wouldn't concern you, would it,” Penny asked Harry.

”No, not as long as it wasn’t a witch or wizard committed the crime,” Harry replied. ”But if we knew one of our
lot was involved, then it would concern us.”

”Because...” Penny said.

”... kidnapping is as illegal in the Wizarding world as it is in the Muggle. But, Penny, kidnapping a Muggle is also
a crime against the Secrecy Act.”

”What is the Secrecy Act,” Dudley asked, thoroughly intrigued.

Harry took a sip of his tea, while he thought how to explain it all. ”It's a constitutional law saying that the
Wizarding community must live in secret parallel to the Muggle community. We can interact with you, live
among you and so on, but we are not allowed to reveal ourselves.”

”But I know about you. Penny knows about you,” Dudley reminded him.

”You know about us because you’re related to me. Hermione’s a Muggleborn, so her parents know about us too,”
Harry explained. ”But the Secrecy Act is also a very powerful Ministry-controlled Fidelius charm, only much more
complex.”

”There's a magical part of the law,” Dudley asked, surprised. After all, he was studying to become a police
officer.

”Yes, there is a magical part to many laws, as you will see at the wedding when the charm is cast. Hermione can
explain this stuff a lot better, but basically a Fidelius charm keeps something secret, unless divulged by a Secret-
keeper. The Secrecy Act is a bit more advanced. Only Wizarding people can reveal the magical world to a
Muggle. If either of you should try to tell another Muggle about us who doesn't already know about us, you
wouldn't be able to. That's how we keep our secret safe.”

”What would happen if there wasn't a Secrecy Act,” Dudley asked. ”I mean, there had to be a time...”

”Before it existed, there was a lot of fear among Muggles, most of it driven by superstition. There was a price on
our heads—and the death penalty. On the rare and often unlikely occasion that mobs might have apprehended a
real witch or wizard, their disciplinary methods would have no effect. A cooling charm could be cast to render fire
harmless, or the witch or wizard could Disapparate and escape. Unfortunately, loads of innocent Muggles were
tortured, hanged, beheaded, or burned out of fear of us.” Harry shook his head in shame and disgust for the
intolerance of the past. What bothered Harry even more was that they’d just fought a war over the same warped
philosophies.

”Considering dad, I'd say there's still a lot of fear for magic,” Dudley concluded.

”How did the Wizarding world live before the Secrecy Act, Harry,” Penny asked, pouring him another cup of tea.

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”In greater uncertainty,” Harry began, his eyes watering with the heat of the tea. ”If a Muggle community were
struck by fear of some curse, a mob could go to a suspected wizard's home and drag him away. If the home
belonged to a Muggle, they arrested and executed the poor bloke, but if it was a Wizarding home, the family
simply Disapparated and relocated.”

”So basically the Secrecy Act gives both worlds a form of stability,” Penny concluded thoughtfully.

”I guess so.”

Nothing more was said for a while, as they finished eating, mulling over what had been said. Dudley voiced his
confusion. ”Maybe this is a mental idea because I don't quite understand your world, Harry, but as I see it, the
Secrecy Act pretty much holds your community together. This Mafalda... she can't be crazy enough to have it
cancelled, can she?”

”Why? You got a hunch,” Harry asked.

”Maybe. Kidnapping Beckham would only create headlines in our media, but what if kidnapping him was only the
start, what if she killed him?” Dudley’s face had a serious look on it and his eyes seemed darker than normal.
”The public would go mental!”

”Even if she did, what would that do to us,” Harry asked, encouraging his cousin to tell him more. ”She’d cast
the killing curse, and your coroners would be baffled. It leaves no mark and no evidence of internal trauma
behind. It would be reported in your media as a death by unknown causes.” He didn't know what Dudley was
thinking, but this was exactly the perspective he desperately needed.

”What if she had it filmed,” Penny suggested. ”Or in front of Muggle witnesses. You said it yourself. She can
reveal your world to Muggles.” Penny stole a glance at Dudley, who seemed to be processing all the possibilities
as they discussed them. He’ll make a fine detective one day.

”Sure, that would make them pretty scared, but they still wouldn’t be able to tell anyone. The authorities could
pass the film off as fake to hide the real cause of death.” Harry had learned in all his years sleuthing about
Hogwarts and fighting the war that even the most improbable of solutions can be actual. But there were too
many ”ifs” involved now. Too many undermining factors.

”Live telly,” Penny said flatly, looking over in the corner at Dudley’s tiny set.

”What? Live...” Harry asked her.

”Harry, think about it,” Penny said excitedly, gesturing with her hands. ”If you wanted to reveal your world to
millions of Muggles, there's nothing like live telly. What if she planned to do that apparatus-thing into Old
Trafford, with 50,000 people in attendance, and a live broadcast reaching all over Britain and onto the
Continent?”

”That's a scary thought,” Harry admitted, realising that it would reveal their world to millions of Muggles, and
the Secrecy Act would fail, sending both worlds into utter chaos. ”That way she would defeat us and create
widespread havoc. Of course it would lead to countless Muggle deaths, but that doesn't concern her.”

”But isn’t that what she’s after,” Dudley asked.

”No, Dud. She doesn’t care about Muggles at all, one way or the other, but she knows we do. The chaos she
could create would undermine authority and bring the Ministry down. With the Ministry of Magic out of the way,
she could try to create a new Wizarding community, shaped after her ideas. Blimey, it makes sense,” Harry
exclaimed.

”Harry, you’re talking anarchy, here,” Dudley exclaimed. ”Complete and utter anarchy!”

”Exactly. That’s why I must talk to our Minister immediately. Maybe he can convince the Muggle Prime Minister
to petition the Muggle police to look for Mafalda, and keep a closer watch on your celebrities. By Merlin, this is
the best theory we have so far. Thanks, you two!” Harry rose.

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”For what, being stupid Muggles,” Dudley grinned.

”No,” Harry laughed. ”For having a perspective I didn’t. Listen, it's great seeing you again and I really would like
to stay longer, but I have to see what Hermione has come up with and then see our Minister. You two are
geniuses. Thanks for breakfast, Penny.” Harry shook Dudley’s hand and gave Penny a peck on the cheek.

”Say hello to Ginny,” Dudley said. ”And Ron and Hermione of course.”

”Will do. Say hello to Aunt Petunia when you see her!” Harry Apparated just outside the Hogwarts main gates. It
was almost lunch time, so Harry would be able to speak to Hermione, Ron and Ginny. He was on to something,
but he wanted to seek their input before dragging Ron off to see Kingsley.

Draco had once again found himself Portkeyed somewhere to meet Mafalda. He wasn't particularly looking
forward to this meeting, not that he looked forward to any of them. If something went wrong, he surely couldn't
duel her because there were Death Eaters who would come to her aid instantly. He didn't want to join her,
either. He knew what she wanted with him this time, but he still had no idea what to say about Potter's wedding.
He hadn't done anything to find out the date because he knew the effort would be wasted. He just wasn’t privy
to that kind of information.

Draco looked around and guessed he was in the same tent as last time, but he was certain it stood in another
place. There were probably silencing charms around it because he couldn’t hear a sound from the outside, giving
him virtually no chance to figure out where he was. He hadn't waited for very long before Mafalda entered the
sitting room from a back room, presumably her bedroom, provided she actually lived in this tent, which he
doubted.

”Mr Malfoy,” Mafalda greeted him.

”Miss Prewett,” he returned.

”Have you anything to report?”

”As I told you last time, the Potter wedding is the best-kept secret in this country. It's not the kind of
information I can get my hands on. I’ll bet that Granger girl put a Fidelius charm on the invitation so the only
way to find out would be to capture Potter or his Weaselette.” Draco tried to sound as cold as he could to avoid
rousing Mafalda’s suspicion.

”I hear a rumour that you’ve got yourself a woman too Mr Malfoy.” Mafalda said. Malfoy found it strange for a
girl to speak that way, as if ”a woman” was something one ”got,” as though she might be a prize for winning a
contest or a gift one received for one’s birthday. He certainly considered Astoria a prize, but never an object,
and Merlin help the bastard who ever treated her as such.

His relationship with her had developed from the friendship based on their school house affiliation into a serious
love affair. Malfoy had introduced Astoria to his mother last weekend, and they were planning to visit the
Greengrass family the following. Malfoy felt good about it all, but a little awkward meeting his former classmate
Daphne again. There had been a short dalliance, but nothing ever came of it. Most of the time, he’d dated Pansy
Parkinson, but that was over long ago. Thank Merlin. All Astoria had told her family she was bringing her
boyfriend to meet them but that it was Draco was still a surprise.

”Yes, Astoria Greengrass. She's from a good Pureblood family,” Malfoy answered, trying to swallow the bile that
rose in his throat. His attitudes had softened a little concerning blood status, but he didn’t think he could ever
marry a woman of less than Pureblood. Some things were just ingrained and couldn’t be helped. Still and all,
he’d had a bellyful of hatred and prejudice and he really didn’t relish standing here before the living embodiment
of it.

”I can't afford for you to be distracted by a woman right now. You must break it off,” Mafalda told him. Malfoy
felt a tingling sensation in his brain. He knew she’d cast the Imperius curse at him and realised Mafalda must be
able to cast it non-verbally.

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Malfoy considered his options. If he made Mafalda aware of her attempt to Imperius him, she might kill him on
the spot. On the other hand, he couldn't let his defenses down and let her curse him. No. He would never break
up with Astoria. Not when she was everything good in his life. He loved her. He needed her. She had become his
very breath and there was no way in hell he would ever let her go.

Malfoy chose an alternative he had never tried. Professor Snape had taught him about it. He knew now it was
the way Snape had deceived Voldemort, even if he hadn't revealed that part to Malfoy himself. Draco closed his
mind, but left a thin surface of a fake awareness remain outside his mental walls. This way, Mafalda might
believe she had bent his will with her dark magic. He could be aware of her instructions through the Imperius
curse, but his mind and will would remain unaltered.

”You will leave Astoria Greengrass. You will be my loyal servant. I will send you written instructions shortly. As a
token of your loyalty, you will now bow to me and swear your allegiance.” Draco heard Mafalda’s voice in his
mind, but his mental blocks held. He had managed to defend himself against the Imperius curse.

”I swear my allegiance to my lady.” Draco said thinking of Astoria as he swore his oath, but added a bow. ”I will
be faithful to her.” She’s the only woman I’d pledge my life and heart to.

Mafalda smiled. ”Now, go and do your Lady's bidding.” she said and pointed to a tea cup, which was apparently a
Portkey.

As Malfoy turned away from Mafalda, he smiled. He had no problems swearing his allegiance to his Lady, to his
beloved Astoria. My pleasure, you mad bint. He picked up the teacup and was transported back to the Ministry.

He felt a little off-center, off-balance. The Imperius was somehow still active but had not and could not
penetrate his mind. Draco could see how this method had fooled Voldemort. If he ever tried to Imperius
Professor Snape or read his mind, all he would have seen was a loyal Death Eater’s mind and not the true place
where Severus Snape lived. Mafalda must have been convinced she had successfully cast the curse, otherwise
he would not be here. ”I will never serve her,” Malfoy thought. ”And I won't abandon Astoria.” He was confused
how to act and needed to speak with her immediately. He needed her in his arms.

Harry met Ron and the girls at the Gryffindor table for lunch. His visit with Dudley and Penny had proven to be
fortuitous and he couldn’t wait to hear their opinions. ”Hey, all! Hello, Gorgeous Girl,” Harry said, sliding into a
seat next to Ginny. ”I’ve missed you this morning. How’s the studying?”

Ginny leaned over for a lingering kiss. ”Mmm...hello, Gorgeous Guy. It’s tough, but I’m muddling through,” she
said as she fed him a bit of sandwich.

”Are you okay, Harry? I heard about...yesterday,” Hermione said, biting her lip. ”I’m really sorry.”

”I’m good, Hermione. I’ll get through it all right. It was just a shock, that’s all,” Harry assured her. ”By the way,
I went to see Dudley and Penny today.”

”How’s life among the Muggles,” Ron asked, picking his fourth sandwich from the tray. ”Pmfn jsh?” Ron picked
up a pitcher and pointed to Harry’s glass.
”What? Oh. Pumpkin juice. Yeah, sure. Thanks,” Harry replied with a chuckle. ”You really must stop talking with
your mouth full, Ron. It’s disgusting and we can’t understand you anyway. Remember what Aunt Muriel said...”

”Sod Aunt Muriel,” Ron grumbled.

”Pass. She’s not my type,” Harry laughed.

”Too right, she’s not,” Ginny snickered. Soon all four of them were in stitches.

”Can’t you be serious, if only for a moment, Ron,” Hermione scolded between giggles.

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”No, Hermione. I’m Ron. I can’t be Sirius!” Harry spewed pumpkin juice across the table, just missing Hermione
by millimetres.

Hermione didn’t get the joke at first. In fact, she was a bit perturbed at the mess Harry made thanks to Ron’s
joking. ”Scourgify,” she muttered, cleaning it up. A few moments later, she began to laugh. ”Oh I get it! Sirius!”
They broke out into another round of laughter, some for Ron’s very clever joke and some for Hermione’s delayed
reaction. ”He would have loved that.”

Harry gave up trying to have a straightforward conversation until the giddiness passed, so he decided to just eat
first and talk later. He and Ginny fed each other bits of sandwich, pieces of fruit and an occasional crisp. They’d
tried to feed one another some soup much to the glee of their fellow Gryffindors, but decided their food didn’t
look good on them, so they gave it up as a solo act. Harry couldn’t help but think about those lovely chocolate-
covered strawberries Kreacher had brought them last night. He sent a wave through their bond, causing Ginny
to blush. Perhaps we might experiment tonight.

”So,” Ron began again as the laughter died down and he was able to catch his breath. ”You said you’d been to
Dudley’s. What did you find out?”

”Well, he’ll make a damned good policeman when he finished his training,” Harry said.

”Hmm. Looks like law enforcement runs in the family,” Hermione said matter-of-factly.

”Yeah, I suppose it does, but I don’t think he’ll make Assistant Chief of Police right out of the gate. I mean,
Dudley’s great and all, but the Muggle police departments aren’t as desperate as the Auror Office was when we
came in,” Harry told him with a smirk. ”Anyway, he and Penny had some great insights.”

”Such as...” Ginny interjected.

”Well, we couldn’t get a fix on why Mafalda would want to kidnap a Muggle, even a celebrity and expect it to
have a major impact on our world,” Harry began to explain.

”Yeah, so...” Ron said, taking a gulp of pumpkin juice.

”They botched her plan when they took Beckham, Ron. She hadn’t given them the order to take him because
she wasn’t ready and Penny and Dudley came up with a theory as to why,” Harry explained.

”And that is...” asked Hermione.

Harry gestured to the others to lean in until their heads almost touched. ” Live television,” Harry explained.
”More specifically, a live television broadcast of a major event...say...a football game. Hence, David Beckham.
Penny says he’s the most-popular football player in Britain.”

”So what does that have to do with anything. We rescued him and returned him to his home,” Ron argued.

”That’s the part that was botched. Dudley and Penny suggested that she might put some crazy operation into
motion to actually attend a game. The stadium holds some 50,000 people. Imagine marching out onto the field
in front of all those Muggles, international broadcast cameras rolling, grabbing somebody like Beckham and
firing the killing curse at him for all the world to see,” Harry said. ”It would expose our world to the Muggles and
lead to chaos.”

”We would of course survive, but all the blame would fall on the Ministry of Magic. That would render Mafalda a
lot of support, and the ability to recruit wizards and witches to build a new Wizarding community,” Hermione
concluded.

”Blimey, that’s...that’s anarchy,” Ron said aloud.

”Shhh! Exactly. That’s what Dudley said. Ron, we’ve got to get to Dawlish and Kingsley—yesterday,” Harry said
resolutely.

”Then Hermione and I shall leave you to it. It’s time to head for class,” Ginny said with a heavy sigh. ”Ready,
Hermione?”

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”As I’m ever going to be, I suppose.” She turned to Ron and gave him a sweet kiss before she gathered her
books and stood up. ”I love you.”

”Love you too, ’Mione. See you at supper.” Ron kissed her again and let her go.

”I love you, Harry Potter,” Ginny said as she reluctantly broke their kiss and again and joined Hermione as they
left for class.

Ron stood and pulled his long legs free of the bench. ”Shall we, Auror Potter,” Ron asked. ”We’ll need to make
some kind of report if you’re wanting to see the Chief and the Minister this afternoon.”

”After you, Auror Weasley.” Harry and Ron strode confidently between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables
toward the great oak doors leading from the Great Hall. The held their heads high and carried an air of
authority—a trait rarely found in young men their age.

They’d become quite accustomed to the whispers and stares of the other students, including a few Slytherins.
They were war heroes, but that was only part of their mystique. They had already gained a minor reputation as
major arse-kickers with the Auror Office, thanks to the Prophet. Anyone who knew them, though, knew them to
be kind and gentle, loving men who happened to be engaged to two of the three most-beautiful witches in the
country.

They represented Wizarding Britain’s hope for a bright future, but the hero-worship and delusions of grandeur
were overshadowed by a grim reality. Law enforcement was just as dangerous and filthy a business as war, and
few young people knew that better than this elite generation of Aurors led by Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
Had that fact been truly understood by their adoring public, it would serve only add another layer of bricks to
their pedestals.

Harry and Ron sat in Harry’s office poring over their notes and discussing them in tandem with Dudley’s and
Penny’s hypotheses. There was no hard evidence, but the implications alone were strong enough to cause great
concern. It wasn’t much, true, but it still gave them something to go on, so they began their report, hoping to
get in with Dawlish and Kingsley before the day was out. What Harry and Ron hoped for was a way to stop
Mafalda’s freight train before it reached the station. They hadn’t written a foot of parchment before there was a
knock at the door.

”Come,” Harry called as he and Ron looked expectantly at the door. Harry’s voice had become authoritative and
commanding, but never unkind or intimidating—unless he happened to be conducting an interrogation.

The door opened and Malfoy entered. ”Potter, I'd need a few minutes with you—privately. It's important.”

Ron threw Harry a suspicious glare. Harry appeared to be considering and Ron prepared himself to stand fast
with his partner. ”Sure. Ron, it’s okay.”

”Just call me if you need me, all right.” Ron reluctantly left, eyeing Malfoy with mistrust and not a little malice.

”Get yourself another chocolate frog, will you,” Harry grinned as Ron closed the door. Overprotective git. But I
have to love the man anyway.

Harry turned to Malfoy, who looked troubled. ”Please. Sit down.”

Draco sat down and rested his elbows on his knees. ”This will probably make you laugh, Potter,” he began, ”but I
need your help.”

Harry didn't laugh. There was a seriousness in Malfoy's words he never heard before. ”Go on.”

”I might be able to help you too, but basically I'm in deep trouble and without help, I might be killed,” Malfoy
told him.

”I guess this has something to do with your dealings with Mafalda.”

Malfoy nodded. ”She knows I've been a sort of double-agent. I was taken by Portkey today, and this time, she

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demanded my absolute loyalty.”

”And I guess you somehow fooled her, because you got away alive and now you’re here asking for help. Am I
right?”

”Yes. She...tried to Imperius me. But I used a method of deception Professor Snape taught me. I let a false
awareness stay outside my mental defense. That awareness is now Imperiused. I can hear any instruction she
gives me, but my mind is safe behind my mental wall. I can choose to obey or not. I choose not.”

”That’s bloody brilliant,” Harry exclaimed spontaneously. ”It must have been Professor Snape's own device. It
has to be how he kept Voldemort certain that he was a Death Eater.”

Malfoy nodded. ”That's what I think too. At the time, I thought it was the way he made Dumbledore believe he
was his man. But I’ve managed to figure professor Snape out and I think it’s something you know too. His
loyalty was determined not by Professor Dumbledore or Voldemort, but by love... for your mother.”

Harry was taken aback by Malfoy’s astuteness. How could he have known that? Professor Snape would surely not
have told him. And he hadn't seen the memory Harry had. ”What makes you think that?”

”You placed a lily on his coffin. And ever since the war ended, you have spoken about him with respect. You
haven’t called him a greasy git or any of the other...ah...clever names you and Weasley had for him.” Malfoy
concluded. ”Now... I do need your help Potter, but not because I support your cause. My motives are my own. I
must confess that the only side I’m on in this is mine.”

”Come on Malfoy, you want to save your own neck. There’s something you’re not telling me,” Harry retorted.
Harry could see Malfoy fighting his emotions.

”Believe it or not, but I have a girlfriend, Potter. Mafalda ordered me to break it off. I won't do that, but as long
as Mafalda is free, I can't reveal that she failed to Imperius me, that makes Astoria a potential target. I fear for
her safety rather than my own,” Draco confessed, his eyes bright and determined. ”Once Mafalda is arrested, I’ll
simply cast off the Imperius curse. But for now, I need to keep it up to know what she wants me to do. Apart
from breaking up, I'm supposed to wait for written instructions.”

Harry could almost hear Professor Dumbledore's voice speaking about love after hearing Malfoy's revelation.
Again, a Death Eater underestimated love. Harry knew he didn't need Malfoy's loyalty, since the one he’d
obviously already sworn to Astoria was enough.

”I’ll help you, Malfoy. Report any instructions she gives you to me or Ron only. We have a good lead on her plan
and the information you provide might be the decisive piece of information we need to arrest her,” Harry said,
setting the blond man at ease.

Malfoy nodded, a bit surprised Potter seemed to trust him. There was no gloating or telling him he got the
trouble he deserved by supporting the wrong people. No, Potter was fair, but was most important to Draco is
that he knew Harry Potter was an honest man and could be trusted implicitly. Still, he had to be sure. Astoria’s
safety was on the line.

”I hope I can count on some discretion,” Malfoy said.

”You can,” Harry promised.


Malfoy left the office and walked past Ron. ”Weasley.”

”Malfoy,” Ron answered as he watched him leave.

”What was that all about,” Ron said as he sat back down and propped his feet up on Harry’s desk.

”The turning point I believe,” Harry smiled mysteriously ”DEs just don't learn anything.”

”What’s that supposed to mean,” Ron asked.

”Ron, Mafalda has made her big mistake. Ironically, it’s the very same mistake her former master made. As luck
would have it, Malfoy has some skills that might come in handy.”

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”Are we trusting that slimy git now,” Ron asked.

”We don't have to, mate,” Harry smiled.

”You know, I’m inclined to agree more and more with those who claim you’re the new Professor Dumbledore.
You're becoming just as annoyingly weird with your answers as he was,” Ron grunted.

”Ron, let's just finish this sodding report. We need to give it to Kingsley, but we need to talk to him too.”

Dawlish sat at his desk reading the Prophet. There was a piece about the four Death Eaters they’d apprehended
and the Prophet was positive about the new Auror leadership so far. Since Potter joined the Auror Office, they’d
made seven arrests.

Gawain Robard's death had been described as a result of the heat of battle. Tragic yes, but hard to avoid.
Williamson's death had been explained as an accident due to error in judgment based on great loyalty to his
colleagues. The Prophet had taken great pains to illustrate the difficult dilemma of a ward-keeper. A knock on
the door interrupted Dawlish’s perusal of the Prophet.

”Enter!” Harry and Ron stepped into his office and sat down. ”So,” Dawlish asked them. ”Good news or bad
news?”

”A little of both, I guess,” Harry answered vaguely.

”Start with the bad news.”

”Malfoy is Imperiused. We have a very strong indication that Mafalda is preparing to destroy the Ministry of
Magic.”

Dawlish nodded. He wasn't surprised to hear this. ”And what's the good news?”

”Mafalda is deceived by Malfoy. We can trust he will support us,” Harry said, giving his boss a serious look.

”And why is that?”

”Exactly,” Ron grumbled ”That’s what I want to know.”

”He used the same method Professor Snape used against Voldemort. This means he can hear what Mafalda
orders him to do, but is free to act as he wishes. Malfoy can't cast off the Imperius until Mafalda is arrested. He
has... personal reasons for wanting Mafalda brought to justice.”

”Do you trust him?”

”Malfoy? No, but it's not necessary either. His personal interest is deep enough to tell me he won't let us down,”
Harry replied.

Dawlish shook his head. ”Far be it for me to question any device of yours, Potter. What do we need to do to stop
Mafalda?”

”We need to talk to the Minister as soon as possible,” Harry said flatly.

”Of course,” Dawlish said. ”I'll see to it immediately.”

On his way to the Minister's office, Dawlish had the very same thought Ron had. Harry Potter acted more and
more like Albus Dumbledore. Dawlish trusted Harry and for whatever reason, Harry knew he could count on
Malfoy no matter his true loyalties.

The Minister for Magic rifled through the stack of memos in his inbox. There were requests for personal
appearances, including the grand openings of new shops in Diagon Alley. The place was still recovering from the
ravages of Voldemort’s reign of terror and every new shop opening or re-opening boded well for Shacklebolt’s
administration. Most of the time, he was happy to participate, but the grind got old quickly for the former Auror.

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He had just dropped a stack of rejections into the bin when a knock came at the door.

”Come in,” he called.

Dawlish opened the door and stepped in. ”King, could I have a word?”

”Of course. What’s on your mind, Johnny,” Kingsley smiled as Dawlish scowled. ”Sorry. What is it, John?”

”Potter and Weasley are waiting in my office. They said they need to meet with you immediately,” he said.

”You wouldn’t happen to know what this is about, would you,” Kingsley asked.

”I would, but I’ll leave it to Potter and Weasley to explain, if you don’t mind,” Dawlish said.

Kingsley thought a moment. If Potter wants to see me, it must be important. ”John, tell them to meet me for
afternoon tea. I expect you’ll join us,” Kingsley decided.

”Fair enough,” Dawlish said as he left the office.


A dozen or so parchment airplanes flew through the door as Dawlish left. The Minister sighed as he rifled
through the seemingly endless pile on his desk, silently cursing the ones flying around his head, seemingly
vying for attention. ”Bloody hell,” Shacklebolt muttered as he resumed his sorting.

Kingsley's secretary had just finished setting the conference room table for four when Kingsley, Dawlish, Harry
and Ron arrived and seated themselves. She served them tea before leaving the room. Over tea, Harry and Ron
gave their report, handing over hard copies to Kingsley and Dawlish.

”I want to request that the Muggle Prime Minister be notified and that the Muggle police search for Mafalda, but
under strict orders to report without taking further action. This may sound rude, but they’re literally defenseless
against her and I’m not going to allow her and her minions to take another human life.”

Kingsley agreed there was too much evidence, speculative as it was, supporting the possibility of a massive
breach of the Secrecy Act to ignore it. Malfoy provided a certain amount of hope, but far from enough, given the
lack of hard evidence, or any clue as to Mafalda's current whereabouts. ”We’ll go to the Muggle Prime and brief
him. I'm certain he will co-operate,” Kingsley said. ”Anything else?”

Dawlish cleared his throat. ”Minister, I'm not cut out to be the Head,” he said abruptly. He held his hands up to
stave off any protests before they began. ”Please. Hear me out. All I’ve done since Robards death is approve our
true leader's tactics and strategy,” Dawlish said, turning to Harry. ”Please. Let me finish. the DA consider you
their true leader, Harry, despite the fact that they would never question my authority. The old Aurors, the few
of us who are left, think of you as the new Albus Dumbledore. There's no point denying it, Harry. There's no one
more cut out to lead us than you... in my humble opinion.”

Kingsley stared in stunned silence at Harry, then Ron and Dawlish. ”Are you telling us that you’re resigning as
Head of the Auror Office, John?”

”Yes, I am. And as my final act as Head, I recommend Potter as my successor.”

Kingsley looked at Harry, who slumped back in his chair, gob smacked. ”What do you have to say about this,
Harry?”

”I...don't really know.” Harry said, feeling obligated to say something, but at a loss for words.

Ron came to his friend’s rescue. ”He’d be the best ruddy Head the Aurors ever had. No shadow on your
leadership sir,” he continued, nodding at Dawlish, ”but Harry is bloody brilliant.”

Harry blushed at Ron's support. ”Thanks, mate.”

Dawlish turned to Harry. ”Look, I'm only in your way. You led the fight against Voldemort after Albus
Dumbledore was killed. He prepared you for it the entire year leading up to his death. This time, you’ve been

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the real leader in the fight against Mafalda Prewett.”

Harry nodded dumbly, still saying nothing.


”It's settled then. Harry, I hereby appoint you Head of the Auror Office. Dawlish, you will resume your work as a
Senior Auror. Harry, who would you appoint as your Assistant Head?”

”Sir, there are really only two people I would consider, but only one of them is an Auror.” Harry looked straight
at Ron.

”Mr Weasley,” Kingsley began, ”would you consider the post as Assistant Head?”

Ron blushed and simply nodded his reply, dumbstruck himself. Under the table, he bumped fists with his best
mate and partner. There’s no stopping us now, Mafalda. The party’s over.

”That's settled then,” Kingsley smiled, rubbing his hand together. Kingsley never disapproved of Dawlish. He’d
appointed the man himself, but having Harry and Ron running the Auror Office was in many ways, a dream
come true. This would have a great positive effect on his wishes to bring good people into the Ministry. A lot of
young and talented wizards and witches would apply for work after this announcement. And it’d look good to the
Wizarding public. These two are heroes, for Merlin’s sake, and now they’re in full legal charge of the fight
against evil.

”By the way, will you deliver this letter to your father,” Kingsley asked Ron, handing him an official letter. ”It's
my reply to his report. After all, you are in the same department.”

”Of course, sir. I’ll be happy to take it to him,” Ron said, still reeling from his promotion. He took the letter and
tucked it in his robes, but he paused when he noticed something amazing. His silver badge had changed to gold.
It once read R.B. Weasley, Auror Office, but it now read R.B. Weasley, Assistant Head, Auror Office. He stole a
look at Harry’s. His gold badge read H.J. Potter, Head, Auror Office. Wait until Hermione gets a load of this! A sly
grin stole across his face as his blue eyes glittered with the possibilities.

Harry still couldn’t wrap his head around this news. Eighteen years old and Head of the Auror Office. That had to
be some kind of record. Of course, Harry’s broken all kinds of age records. The youngest ever to have played on
a school Quidditch team in a century his first year, the youngest ever to have mastered the Patronus charm his
third year, the youngest ever winner of the Triwizard Tournament his fourth year, the youngest ever to have
been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class just last summer, the youngest ever Assistant Head of the Auror
Office, and now the youngest ever Head.

It was a load of responsibility, but he was no stranger to that either. The fate of the Wizarding world rested on
his shoulders from the time he was fifteen months old. He just didn’t know it until just three short years ago.
He’d even taken on teaching a rag-tag lot of school-age witches and wizards Defence Against the Dark Arts
because their sadistic nutter of a teacher didn’t teach them. Harry smiled. He was proud of the DA and what it
had accomplished. He was proud to have them with him in the Auror Office.

At that moment, Harry James Potter rededicated his life and resources, magical and otherwise, to the defeat of
the dark arts. With his wife and best friends by his side, there would be no stopping him. Ginny, love, have I got
a surprise for you. He sent a wave of the unspoken thing mingled with threads of desire and excitement through
their bond. Almost immediately, she sent a response awakening Gryffindor’s lion.

”Harry. Harry. You in there mate?” Harry was shaken from his reverie. ”Harry, you all right, mate,” Ron said
waving his palm in front of his eyes.

”What? Oh yeah, I’m fine. I was just...thinking, that’s all,” He replied, adjusting his robes over his lap.

”We have to drop by Dad’s office and deliver this,” Ron reminded him, waving the letter.

”Oh right. Sorry. I just...”

”No worries, Harry,” Kingsley said. ”It’s overwhelming, I know. But you’ll settle in.”

”I... er... yeah. I suppose so. I’m still trying to get my head around it, that’s all,” Harry replied, pushing away
from the table.

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He and Ron shook the Minister’s hand and joined Dawlish at the door. ”After you... Chief,” Dawlish said with a
grin, ushering him into the corridor, with Ron taking up the rear.

”It’s Harry, John. Just Harry.” The three of them stood in front of the lifts with more little parchment airplanes
floating about above their heads. Their car arrived and the female voice lilted, ”Minister of Magic,
Administration.”

Harry, Dawlish, and Ron stepped into the car, as an assault of flying parchment darted out into the corridor.
Then the ones that had floated over their heads flew in and performed an airbourne ballet around the light.

”You planned this ahead, didn't you,” Harry asked, looking John Dawlish square in the eye.

”I decided earlier today,” Dawlish told him. ”You’re a much better leader than I'll ever be. I'm not trying to
imagine anything else.”

”I appreciate your confidence, John, but I...” Harry stammered.

”Harry, you’re the best man for the job. I think even Kingsley knew that when he appointed me, but you weren’t
in the office yet. As Assistant Head, I was the logical choice,” Dawlish told him. ”But not necessarily the right
one. You’ve proven that.”

”I never meant...” Harry began, but Dawlish cut him off.

”You’re a natural leader and people respect you, and that includes me. I’m pleased to be on your team.” Dawlish
slapped Harry lightly on the back and turned to Ron. ”Ron, watch Harry’s back. That’s your job as his partner
and his Assistant Head.”

”Yes sir. I will, sir,” Ron replied solemnly.

The lift door opened and the voice announced their floor. The three men exiting the car ignored it. They knew
very well where they were. Another parchment air raid materialised above their heads, tangling in Ron’s hair as
they rushed in and out of the lift. ”Ruddy memos! They’re thick as Glumbumbles on nettles!”
”Harry, I’m going to clean out your desk and then I’m taking the rest of the day off...that is if you have no
objections,” Dawlish said with a conspiratorial grin.

”Not at all, John. The rest of the day’s yours. Enjoy,” Harry replied, shaking his hand again. ”We’re just going to
nick down to Arthur’s office and deliver the news.”

Dawlish took an amused look at the door to his former office, which now read H. POTTER, HEAD AUROR. Next
door, Harry’s former office door read R. WEASLEY, ASSISTANT HEAD AUROR. He chuckled to himself and opened
the door. They don’t waste any time, do they? His files had been magically arranged and all of his belongings
packed into boxes, which rested on the now-empty desk. ”Depulso,” Dawlish muttered, and with a flick of his
wand, he banished the boxes to his flat. He took one last look around and sighed. ”Good luck, Harry. We’re
counting on you.” He left the office and strode back to the lifts, whistling a tune only he knew.

Harry and Ron strode through the corridors of the Ministry of Magic, headed for Arthur Weasley’s office. They
hadn’t spoken a word after they left Dawlish at the Auror Office. They’d both been lost in thought, each
unbeknownst to the other, turning over the events that led them from King’s Cross Station nearly eight years
before to this point in their lives. So much had happened, so many adventures—and misadventures—so much
laughter, so many tears; so much...everything. They’d hung together through thick and thin and soon they’d be
brothers in name as well as in deed. Head Auror Potter and Assistant Head Auror Weasley had no idea at that
moment that they would one day become legends of magical law enforcement.

When they arrived, Ron knocked on the door and opened it. ”Dad?”

”Ron! Harry! Come on in, boys. Come on in,” he said with a wide grin, his eyes twinkling. ”What brings you to
our humble nook, then?”

”Uh... Kingsley gave us this to give to you,” Ron said, stealing side glances at Harry. Ron wondered how long it
would take his father to notice their new badges pinned to their Auror’s robes.

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”Ah yes. I’ve been waiting for this,” Arthur said as he opened the envelope. He took his reading glasses out of
his breast pocket and put them on. ”Now, let’s see here.” He adjusted his spectacles until they sat his face
properly and began to read.

”Dear Arthur,
I agree with your assessment. Your office has outlived its purpose. On your recommendation, I am transferring
your staff to the Magical Law Enforcement Squads. In addition, I hereby appoint you, Arthur Weasley, Head of
the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The current Head shall join my staff as Minister of Magical Law
Enforcement.
Congratulations,
Kingsley”

“Merlin's knickers,” Ron yelled. ”Head of Magical Law Enforcement! Dad, this is... this is... bloody hell!
Congratulations, Dad!” Ron took his blushing father up in a bear hug, nearly lifting him off the floor. ”Wait until
Mum finds out!”

Harry collapsed into a chair laughing at Ron’s exclamation. When he finally pulled himself together under the
gaze of his surrogate father and brother, he stood again and shook Arthur’s hand. ”Congratulations, Arthur.
You're my new boss.”

”What?” Arthur gazed back and forth at the two young men before him. ”What are you on about, Harry?”

”We’ve just come from a meeting with Kingsley. Dawlish resigned,” Harry told him. ”And I... uh...”

Ron sighed heavily. Self-conscious git. ”Kingsley appointed our Harrykins Head of the Auror Office.” Ron put his
arm around his friend’s shoulders and gave him a shake. ”And I'm the new Assistant Head.”

“Git,” Harry murmured.

Arthur’s eyes nearly bugged out at the news. ”I'm... so proud,” he said, taking out his handkerchief. ”My boys...
Aurors... Heads. I don’t know what to say!” He hugged both of them. ”Your mother will so proud, Ronnie. Harry,
I know the Marauders would be proud, son.”

”Thank you, sir,” Harry said, forcing a smile. The Marauders. Prongs, his father; Padfoot, his godfather; Moony,
his teacher and friend; and Wormtail, the traitor. Sirius and Remus must have regaled Arthur and the others
with tales of their exploits with the irrepressible James Potter. They had been cooped up a Grimmauld Place that
summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts, so the stories were sure to have flown over Butterbeer and
Firewhiskey.

”Make sure you, Ginny, and Hermione come to the Burrow this weekend. We must celebrate with the family,”
Arthur beamed. ”This is a great day for the Weasleys! A great day!”

”Well, mate, I suppose it’s time we moved into our offices,” Harry said, slapping Ron on the back. ”Then I think
we check in with the teams and call it a day.”

”Sounds good to me... Chief,” Ron snickered, eyes twinkling. ”And we need to let those women of ours in on the
news.”

”Tell them your news, boys,” Arthur said in mock sternness. ”I shall tell them my news on Saturday night with
the rest of the family.”

”Right, Dad. Your secret’s safe with us,” Ron promised. ”Congratulations again.” Ron had always loved and
respected his father, even though there hadn’t been much money and times were tough growing up. But one
thing he did have with his father was a loving parent-child relationship. While many young men and their
fathers were practically strangers, Ron and his father were friends in every sense.

”I know it is. All right, boys. Off you go. I need to owl Molly,” Arthur said, showing them to the door. ”Do give

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our love to our girls.”

”Will do, Arthur. Thanks,” Harry said.

Harry and Ron made their way back to their offices. ”I wonder if we could remove the wall,” Harry said
thoughtfully.

”Remove what wall,” Ron asked.

”The one between our offices. We’re always working together anyway, usually in my office, so why not just
remove the ruddy wall and have one big office we can share. We can plant a conference table right in the center
and still have loads of room to work.”

”Brilliant,” Ron exclaimed. ”But who do we ask?”

”Your dad,” Harry laughed. ”He’s the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. He has authority as the head of a
department!”

”Blimey, your right! We’ll have to ask him about that this weekend,” Ron said excitedly.

”This weekend? Are you mental,” Harry asked. ”We can send him a ruddy parchment aeroplane!” The two of
them laughed their way to Ron’s office in order to clean Harry’s gear out. Ron’s was already there. When they
arrived, Harry’s belongings were neatly packed in a box, with his workout bag next to it. He banished them to
his own office, but decided to leave the unpacking until tomorrow, since he was anxious to get back to Hogwarts
and Ginny.

There was no point in hanging about anymore. Thompson and his team had arrived for their shift and they
would monitor the teams in the field. Otherwise, the Auror Office were essentially playing a waiting game,
waiting for Malfoy to report, waiting for Kingsley to set up a meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister, and
waiting for Mafalda to possibly make another move.

Ron and Harry prepared to leave for the day. As they closed the door, Harry released his parchment airplane to
Arthur and watched it zip along the ceiling to his office. He and Ron had a chuckle. ”The ruddy things remind me
of Pig,” Ron said. ”Flighty and overeager.”

Ron and Harry Apparated outside the wards of Hogwarts castle. They passed through the gates to the grunting
of the winged boars and trudged across the lawn. Since the last lessons of the day had just begun, Hagrid was
likely off with a Care of Magical Creatures class, since there were no signs of life around his hut. Even Fang the
boarhound was nowhere to be seen.

”How about we have dinner together, just the four of us in our room tonight, Ron? We can tell the girls and
have our own little celebration before the story hits the Prophet and all hell breaks loose in the Great Hall,”
Harry suggested as they climbed the great stone staircase.

”Sounds good to me, mate. But right now, I’m for a shower and a nap,” Ron replied with a yawn.

”Six, then,” Harry asked, pausing by the Defence Against the Dark Arts door.

”Right. See you in a bit.” Ron continued down the corridor toward the private room he shared with Hermione.
Weasley, you’re getting lucky tonight, mate.

Harry waved his hand at the fireplace and a warming fire appeared in the grate with a whoosh. He undressed
and padded to the shower to clean up before he lay down for a cat nap. Ginny’s last class ended at four-thirty,
so that gave him an hour. He let the warm water run over his body while he stood there and turned the day’s
events over in his mind.

Harry finished his shower and grabbed a fluffy towel. He dried himself off, wrapped the towel around his waist
and brushed his teeth and hair. It hung past his shoulders now. You’re fighting a losing battle there, dear. Where
had heard that before? Chuckling, he padded out to the dresser, where he pulled a fresh pair of boxers and tee
shirt. The fire had warmed the room nicely. He lay back on the bed and fell asleep.

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”Harry...” A soft voice. Warm breath in his hear. ”Harry, Love...” Something soft and sweet across his lips.
”Gorgeous Guy...” A caress along his jaw.

He awoke and gave her a contended smile. ”I think I’m in love,” he groaned as he stretched his arms around
Ginny and pulled her over onto himself.

”You are in love,” she cooed. ”And you’re back early. What’s going on?”

”I can’t tell you that,” he teased. ”At least not for...oh...about two hours.”

”Oh is that so? And why not,” she asked brushing his unruly locks off his brow. She traced his scar with her
finger. She was the only one he’d ever allowed to touch it.

”Because it’s a surprise and I want Ron and Hermione to be with us when I tell you,” Harry said with a
mischievous grin. ”And that reminds me. Kreacher!”
Crack! ”Harry has called for Kreacher and Kreacher comes.” The old House-elf bowed so low his nose touched
the floor.

”Kreacher, would it be possible to have a supper for four served up here tonight? We have something to talk
about and we don’t want to have all of Hogwarts listening in.”

”Of course,” Kreacher said. ”Would you be liking something special or...”

”No, no. Just whatever is being served, just in smaller amounts,” Harry said. ”And would it be possible to sneak
in some red wine?”

”Of course, Harry. Kreacher will bring it from Grimmauld Place. Our cellars are well-stocked.”

”And not a word to anyone about the wine? That’ll be our little secret.”

”Kreacher is not revealing Harry’s secrets,” Kreacher said, shaking his head slowly. ”What time should Kreacher
bring supper, sir?”

”Oh...uh...quarter-past-six,” Harry decided. Kreacher bowed and disappeared with another crack!
”Wine? You asked for wine,” Ginny asked Harry, her brow furrowed. ”This must be something big.” She’d begun
to wheedle and he wasn’t falling for it.

”Ron and Hermione are going to be here at six. You might want to change out of your school things and into
something more comfortable.”

”I think I want to shower first. It’s been a long day for me too. A shower might feel really good right now,” she
said, sliding off the bed. ”While I shower, you can nap for a bit more if you wish.”

”I wish,” Harry said, grabbing her hand to kiss it. ”Just wake me when you’re ready.”

Ron and Hermione arrived right on schedule and the four of them sat down to supper. Just before dessert, Harry
and Ron stole a conspiratorial glance at one another. ”Sir Ronald, wouldst thou care to do the honours?” Harry
slid the bottle of wine to Ron to open.

”With pleasure, Sir Harry,” he replied. He tapped the cork with his wand and muttered, ”Alohamora.” The cork
slid out of the bottle with a quiet pop. Ron poured some into each of their glasses. ”Go ahead, Sir Harry. Let the
Kneazle out of the bag.”

Harry stood holding his wine glass in the air. ”Fair ladies, we, thy devoted knights, have an announcement to
make unto thee. However, we must ask thee that thou dost not divulge it. It shall be widely-known soon
enough,” Harry said. ”So, allow me to present unto thee the new Head of the Auror Office...me! But,” Harry said
holding up his hand. ”Please hold thine applause, for there be icing for this cake. Allow me to present unto thee
the new Assistant Head of the Auror Office...Sir Ron!”

”Thou art now free to snog these two valiant knights,” Ron said with a sweeping, but wobbly, fool’s bow.

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Hermione and Ginny jumped to their feet with screams and squeals, hugging each other and then throwing
themselves at their men. ”Oh, congratulations, Ron... my love... my hero... I’m so... proud of you!” Ron picked
her up off the floor in a voracious hug and returned her ardent kisses.

”Harry! This is fantastic! Oh congratulations, Love! I’m... so... proud... of you.” Ginny leapt into Harry’s arms and
wrapped her legs around his waist as he held her tightly against him as he devoured her lips. Over more wine
and dessert, Ron and Harry told Hermione and Ginny about the afternoon’s events and how their promotions
came about.

”So Dawlish resigned,” Hermione asked, still caught up in the excitement of the moment. ”Just like that?”

”I would say it was just like that, Hermione. He said he’d planned it,” Harry replied. ”He said something about
the logical choice not always being the best one.”

”And then, if you please,” Ron continued, ”as soon as Kingsley appointed Harry Head of the Auror Office, Harry
took me on as Assistant Head.”

”Harry, do you realise that you’re the youngest ever Head of any Ministry Office in history,” Hermione asked,
realisation dawning on her face.

”Did we need to know that,” Ron asked with a smirk.

”She’s right, you know,” Harry said thoughtfully. He’d been thinking about his firsts and youngest all afternoon.
He still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

”Does Dad know yet,” Ginny asked Ron, also still excited. ”I mean, he’s on the same floor...”

”Dad knows, Gin. He wants the whole family to gather at the Burrow this weekend for a celebration,” Ron said.
”Harry, we’ll need to see Professor McGonagall. Mum’ll go spare if...”

”She’ll give in,” Harry said. ”I don’t think even Minerva McGonagall wants to tangle with Molly Weasley.”

The four of them finished their wine and dessert, talking about all the possibilities for their future and the future
of their world. Soon, they began to yawn and stretch with fatigue and a light buzz from the wine. ”Well mates,
I’m about ready to call it a day. I’m knackered to the bone and we’ve got to go in early tomorrow,” Ron said with
a yawn and a stretch. ”Ready, love?” He stood and offered his hand to Hermione, who seemed to be a little
off-center. She nodded and leaned into him.

”Good night, Har... Harry,” Hermione said through her yawn. ”Congrad... congrat... well done.” She gave Harry a
sisterly hug and a peck on the cheek.

”Way to go... R-ron,” Ginny whispered into her brother’s face. ”Mum’s going to flip, you know.”

Ron picked his sister up in a bear hug and gave her a peck on the forehead. ”I know. I can’t wait to see her
face.”

The following morning, Harry and Ron did indeed rise early. Ginny and Hermione joined them for an early
breakfast. The food hadn’t even been served yet when they reached the Great Hall. They’d planned to eat and
be gone before the post owls arrived with the Daily Prophet clutched in their talons.

”Gin, we’re going to be gone when the Post Owls arrive,” Harry said. More students, mostly fifth and seventh
years began to file in to the hall. ”You’re going to be bombarded with questions.”

”Oh I think we can handle it,” Ginny said, fingering her wand. ”I’m pretty good with a silencing charm.”

”Or a Bat-Bogey hex,” Ron added with a smirk.

”Or a full body-bind,” Hermione laughed. She was thinking about what she had done to Neville for his own good
the night they went through the trapdoor to rescue the Philosopher’s Stone. The others howled with laughter as
the food appeared on the table.

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As soon as they finished breakfast, Harry and Ron kissed their women goodbye and left the school for the
Ministry. They found the latest issue of the Daily Prophet on Harry’s desk. Ron checked his office and found a
copy on his own. He picked it up and joined Harry back in his office. He sat down and stretched his long legs out
and began to read.

”Potter Takes Charge Of the Auror Office


In a bold move yesterday afternoon, Head Auror pro tempore John Dawlish resigned his leadership position in
favor of none other than Harry Potter. Mr Dawlish is the first one to congratulate Mr Potter. 'Mr Potter is a skilled
and experienced leader who knows more about fighting the dark arts than anyone else alive. I have had the
honour and privilege of working with him and he has been a real asset to the upper-echelon of our law
enforcement staff.'
Reaction from the Wizarding community is primarily positive, but the few doubtful voices cite Mr Potter’s youth as
a concern. However, following review of his official record and his known accomplishments, the Daily Prophet has
compared him with his predecessors. Rest assured that Mr Potter is far more experienced than any of them at
their appointment.
The new Assistant Head is Mr Potter's long time friend and ally, Ronald Weasley, known for his strategical and
tactical skills. The Weasley family also celebrates the appointment of Arthur Weasley as Head of the Department
of Magical Law Enforcement.” The Daily Prophet offers its heartfelt congratulations.

”Well, the Kneazle’s out of the bag now,” Ron snickered. ”And Dad wanted to keep it quiet.”

”What was he thinking,” Harry replied, rolling his eyes with mock indignity. ”I expect the rest of the family’s
gone mental by now.”

After classes Friday afternoon, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione packed their rucksacks and left the castle amid
congratulations and exclamations from the students. They Apparated to the Burrow, before the rest of the family
arrived. Molly greeted her boys with her patented Molly Weasley bone-crushers, exclaiming her pride and wiping
her eyes with her apron.

”We’re so proud of you two,” she sniffled. ”Just so proud!” She hugged her girls and then sent them all upstairs
to settle in. They all trooped up the stairs to their respective rooms.

Less than an hour later, Arthur Flooed in, followed immediately by Percy. ”Molly! We’re home!”

”Arthur, dear” Molly said, kissing her husband’s cheek. ”Percy!” She hugged her middle son and husband and
then herded them into the living room. ”The Hogwarts contingent is upstairs settling in. Oh Arthur! Head and
Assistant Heads in the Weasley family!” She broke down in her husband’s arms.

”What’s wrong with Mum,” Ginny asked Percy.

”Nothing. She’s just emotional,” Percy replied. ”You must be really thrilled about Harry and Ron.”

”We’re still trying to get our heads around it. So what are your plans, Perce? Are you thinking about transferring
out to work with Dad,” Ginny asked.

”Hardly,” Percy sniffed. ”I’m needed right where I am, thanks.”


Whoosh! The fire in the grate turned bright green as Bill and Fleur stepped through. Bill had to support his wife
due to her condition. She had to hold her belly and looked a little green as she stepped out. Bill escorted her to
the sofa and helped her lower herself into as comfortable a sitting position as possible.

”Zis eez most eenconvenient. I am beeg as zee ’ouse,” she groaned.

”Do you need a pillow, dear,” Molly asked, wand at the ready. ”It’ll help support your back.”

”Ooh sank you, Muzzer Weasley. Zat would be most kind,” Fleur replied gratefully. Molly conjured a fluffy pillow
that Bill placed behind her.

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”Thanks, Mum,” Bill said, kissing his mother on the cheek. ”So where are our super-sleuths?”

”Right here,” Ron called as he, Harry, and Hermione entered the room. Molly burst into tears again just as the
fireplace spewed Charlie into the room.

”Charlie,” Ginny cried and ran to her older brother. ”You’re here!”

”Hey, baby sister,” Charlie said as he scooped her up in his arms as if she were still a little girl. ”Hey, family!”

A few minutes later, George arrived with Angelina and the party began. Molly herded her brood to the scrubbed
oak table for a veritable feast including all of Harry’s, Ron’s, and Arthur’s favorites. There was a selection of
puddings including treacle tart, double-chocolate cake, and strawberry pie.

Charlie produced a bottle of the finest Romanian ice-vodka and showed it to Bill. ”Since Dad’s an honouree, the
job falls to you, big brother.”

”Right you are, Charlie,” Bill replied. ”Please. Share the wealth.” Charlie opened the bottle, conjured eleven
glasses and poured a half glass each. Once each member of the Weasley assemblage had a glass, Bill stood.
”Weasleys, this is a momentous occasion. Tonight, we celebrate three esteemed members of our ever-growing
clan—Arthur Weasley, the best dad the world has ever known; Ronald Weasley, our gallant and brave little
brother; and Harry Potter, a ballsy little bastard if I ever knew one!”

”William Arthur Weasley,” Molly scolded. ”We did not raise you to use such language!”

Her shouts were met with gales of laughter. ”Oh come on, Mum. It’s true, you know,” George said with a wink
toward Harry. ”He’s taking our Ginny on, isn’t he?” The table erupted in more laughter and even Molly couldn’t
contain herself. Harry merely pulled Ginny closer to him and kissed her temple.

”All right, all right. Can we shut it so I can finish,” Bill asked peevishly.

”Sorry, son. Go on,” Arthur said authoritatively. ”You lot. Listen to your brother now.”

”Thanks, Dad. Now, where was I? Oh yes. Ballsy little bastard,” Bill said thoughtfully while the table snickered.
”These three, in one fell swoop, have taken control of the highest levels of magical law enforcement. Who would
have ever dreamed that our father and little brothers would become what the Muggles call top cops.”

”Just get on with it, Bill,” Percy grumbled. ”Do you have to be so pompous?” The table erupted once again into
howls of laughter. ”What?”

”Never mind, Perce,” Charlie said, wiping his eyes. ”Go on, Bill.”

”So... to Ron: I have to admit we were a bit worried about you for a while there. We didn’t know what was to
become of you, a gangly kid with a penchant for chess, but not much else,” Bill said. The table snickered,
including Ron himself. ”When you returned after your first year at Hogwarts, Mum and Dad noticed a change in
you they couldn’t quite figure out. With each passing year, you grew into a solid and relatively focused young
man. I like to think that’s all down to the company you chose to keep. Tonight, we congratulate you, Assistant
Head Auror Ronald Bilius Weasley. Slaínte!”

”Slaínte,” the table replied in chorus and took a gulp of the icy drink.

”Now, now. We’re not through yet,” Bill boomed over his chattering family. He waited for them to quiet down
before he continued. ”To Harry: Mate, you’ve had an uncanny effect on this family over the years. Your
friendship with our little brother has helped make him the man he is today. You’ve shown us how rich we really
are—not in money, but in love. We might have taken that all for granted, had our three youngest brothers not
flown that wretched car to Surrey that night to rescue you. Tonight, we congratulate you, Head Auror Harry
James Potter. Slaínte!”

”Slaínte,” the table replied again and drained their glasses.

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Molly made a move to protest as Charlie refilled everyone’s glasses. She sighed, but still accepted a refill herself.
Bill then cleared his throat to address his father. ”Dad,” he began, tears welling up in his blue eyes, ”Dad, we’re
all so proud tonight. We’re proud to be your sons, your daughters, your wife, and your friends. You’ve always
taught us what’s really important in life—friends, family, and personal honour. None of that ever brought
material wealth, but we’re so much richer than most because of those values you and Mum instilled in us.”

Bill had to stop to collect himself and wipe away the tears that coursed down his scarred cheeks before he could
continue. ”We all know you’ll make a fine department head. You didn't ask for this promotion. You never asked
for any recognition--not at work nor at home. But I think I speak for all of us when I say you deserve this
position, and like it or not, it's a testament to the good and honourable man you are. Tonight, we congratulate
you, Head of Magical Law Enforcement Arthur Weasley. Slaínte!”

”Slaínte!” The family drained their glasses and stood to applaud and cheer. The celebration continued around the
table late into the night with stories and laughter, and even a few tears. Following a soothing cup of chamomile
tea, they Weasley assemblage said their goodnights and drifted upstairs to bed.

A condition of Professor McGonagall’s permission for Hermione and Ginny to spend the weekend at the Burrow
was that they had to return by the Sunday evening meal. Following one of Molly’s scrumptious midday meals,
the Weasley assemblage bid one another goodbye.

”My fireplace is connected to the Muggle Prime's,” Kingsley said, ”so we can Floo in.” Moments later, Kingsley
and Harry stepped out in an office he vaguely recalled having seen in the Muggle news years ago at Privet
Drive.

The Muggle Prime Minister had been expecting them, and welcomed them cordially. Harry realised he'd been
neglecting Muggle news, because there must have been a election because he didn’t recognise this Prime
Minister.

”Minister, this is Mr Harry Potter. He is the Head of our Auror Office, a new elite force against the dark arts.”

”Excuse me for asking, but are you not a bit young, Mr Potter,” the Muggle Prime asked more surprised than
impolitely.

Harry was uncertain how to reply after shaking hands. Kingsley noticed and came to the rescue. ”Mr Potter is
the wizard who personally ended both the first and second Wizarding wars, by defeating the most evil dark
wizard in our history. Despite his age, there's no one better for the job.”

Harry blushed. What Kingsley said was of course in essence true, but Harry always found it hard to be presented
as some kind of hero.

”Of course, Minister,” the Muggle Prime replied, looking at Harry with a mix of fear and astonishment. ”Please sit
down.”

They sat down and Kingsley turned to Harry after a few minutes of polite small talk. ”Harry, would you please
tell my Muggle colleague why we are here?”

”Of course, sir,” Harry said and turned to face the Muggle Prime. ”Last week, we rescued the football player,
David Beckham, from kidnappers, wizard kidnappers.”

The Muggle Prime looked surprised. ”We would have known...”

”Yes, if we hadn’t rescued him after only one night. We altered Mr Beckham’s and Miss Adams’ memories when
we returned him to his home. The kidnappers were arrested and now await trial. Nothing leaked out to media,
sir,” Harry told him. ”We’ve learned that a Death Eater, Mafalda Prewett, is targeting Muggle celebrities. We
have reason to believe she is planning to destroy our community by killing or torturing them in a public Muggle
arena, possibly in front of television cameras. That would reveal our world to the general Muggle public.”

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The Muggle Prime remained silent as he digested Harry’s words.


”Do you understand what that might do, to both of our worlds,” Kingsley asked him.

”From what I know of your world, it would cause mass hysteria among my people,” he answered.

”And it would destroy our community. However, I believe the death toll would be mostly Muggles.” Kingsley
added.

”Do you need our assistance to avoid this situation?”

”Yes,” Harry replied. ”We would need your police to be on the lookout for Mafalda, but not to arrest her if they
find her.”

”We can do that.”

”This is very important, sir. She will kill any Muggle who tries to arrest her,” Harry clarified. ”And it would also
be a good idea to keep a close eye on your celebrities.”

The Muggle Prime nodded, thinking of the Royal Family. ”Minister Shacklebolt, Mr Potter, I shall put my people
on this right away. If we should happen to find your Miss Prewett, we’ll certainly be in touch.”

”Thank you, Minister,” Kingsley said. ”If you have no questions, we’ll take our leave.”

”No, no. I’m perfectly clear on it all,” the Muggle Prime assured him. ”Good day to you gentlemen.”

Harry and Kingsley Flooed back to the Ministry. ”Well done, Harry.”

Astoria stared in shock at Draco. ”You did what?”

”I asked Potter for help to have Mafalda arrested.”

”Why would you ask him for help?”

Draco took Astoria's hand. ”Because she tried to Imperius me, commanding me to break up with you,” he said
urgently. ”But I won't do that. I... I can’t.” He told her how Professor Snape had taught him to defend his mind
while still presenting the illusion of compliance. ”We’d better Floo to your family this weekend. I can't be seen
outside your family's home in case someone’s watching it.”

Astoria had been uncertain as to what exactly what he wanted from their relationship, although it had become
quite serious since that night in front of the fire. But the sincerity in his clear gray eyes wiped away any doubts.
He was serious about their relationship and she knew that now. She had no intention of letting him go for
anything. ”I'll tell them. They’re very curious about my boyfriend,” Astoria smiled. ”And I can't wait to see my
sister's face.” That weekend, Draco was well received by the Greengrass family that weekend, and Daphne's face
was well worth the anticipation Astoria had for it.
As the days passed, Draco had no word from Mafalda through the Imperius or otherwise. For some reason, she
was keeping a low profile. Draco felt uneasy about that, because he had no way of knowing what she was up to.
There had been no word from the Auror Office either, although Draco felt a modicum of relief to know that
Potter and Weasley were in charge of it now, but the waiting had become excruciating. It seemed as though both
sides were waiting for the other to make a move.

By the end of April, Harry had settled in as Head Auror. His days had become routine, what with regular reports
from his teams in the field and the endless paperwork that plagued any department in the Ministry of Magic.
Wedding plans had picked up momentum. He’d been to Madam Malkin’s for final fittings for his robes for the
wedding, while Ron ordered matching ones as best man. Despite the total lack of other events, tension hung in
the air like a pall. Harry was tired every day from the constant strain of maintaining full alert, so both he and

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Ginny fell into bed exhausted every night. She was studying harder than ever for her upcoming NEWTs.

On the last day of the month, a Muggle police officer was sent to investigate a suspected break in. The next
series of events would change the monotony to non-stop activity for the new elite of the Auror Office.

Chapter 20: The game is on...


[View Online] [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Chapter 20 – The Game Is On

Sergeant Atkins hung up the phone with a sigh, shaking his head. She was at it again. Mrs O'Donnell was
ninety-nine years old and lived in the village of Wellingshire her entire life. She was, for the most part, very
respected in the local community. During the Great War, she worked in a munitions factory. During the Second
World War, she served with the Women's Auxiliary Air Force during the Battle of Britain, among other
campaigns. However, over the past three or four years, she had repeatedly called the police a couple of times
every month to report various crimes she claimed to have witnessed.

”I fear old Mrs O'Donnell is ready for the House of Pancakes, Otterburne,” he said.

”What is it this time,” he asked with a snort. ”Has she seen Hitler in her garden? Last week, it was Nazi spies in
the old mill.”

”That surely was one of her best so far, but today's report is amazing,” Sgt Atkins assured him with a chuckle.

”What? She did find Hitler in her garden,” Otterburne snickered.

”No, you ridiculous berk. Listen to this. In the abandoned manor, where the Earl of Wellingshire used to live, she
reports two people popping out of thin air and breaking into the manor. One of them is a shady big fellow and
the other a typical sloppy teen girl, wearing too short a skirt. What do you make of that?”

They both laughed, but stopped when the Chief Superintendent snapped his head up at them. ”What did she say
about that girl,” he asked, slightly alarmed.

”A normal British girl, by the description. In her teens, seemed quite normal except for popping out of thin air.”

The Chief left in a hurry and Sgt Atkins looked after him. ”What's wrong with him?”

”I’m sure I don’t know. Care for a cuppa,” Otterburne sighed as he rose. ”Neat for you, yeah?”

”Yeah, thanks,” Atkins replied.

A few minutes later the Chief Superintendent returned with a paper. ”Sgt Atkins, you will see if Mrs O'Donnell
can identify this young woman,” he said, handing him a photo. ”If she does, do not—under any
circumstances—go near the old manor. Ring me and wait at O'Donnell's.”

Sgt Atkins noticed Otterburne’s sarcastic smile, but was surprised as the photo came from MI5. The photo had
originally been made Draco Malfoy’s memory of his meeting with Mafalda.

”MI5?” Atkins paled. ”Are we considering Mrs O'Donnell a threat to national security now? Chief, this is daft!”

”Look, this smells of Top Secret all over. The instructions are that any report on any teen girl behaving oddly or
supernaturally must have her location confirmed. She's not to be contacted or approached. If she's there, ring
me and stay put. Understand?”

A quarter of an hour later, Atkins showed the photo of Mafalda Prewett to Mrs O'Donnell, who confirmed that the
girl in the photo was indeed the one she had seen popping out of thin air. Atkins rang the Chief Superintendent,
feeling rather dubious, to make the most bizarre report of his career.

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”This is Sgt Atkins, sir. I have confirmation on the girl’s identity. Mrs O'Donnell confirms it's the girl in the MI5
photo that... behaved supernaturally by appearing out of nowhere. She also repeated that there was a break in
at the manor. Shall I investigate?”

”No. Sit tight. Don't do anything,” the Chief insisted.

”Right sir. Sitting tight, then,” Atkins replied and hung up the phone.

The Chief reported in and his report was in the Prime Minister's office less than an hour later. Once the Muggle
Prime Minister was alone in his office, he opened the drawer and fetched a jar with a strange powder. The other
Minister had explained it all and it seemed simple enough. Throw some powder in the fireplace, speak the name
and destination, and then stick your head into the green fire. Sticking his head into some magical fire seemed
beyond stupidity—something a Tory might do.

The Prime Minister chuckled at his political sarcasm, sighed heavily, and threw the powder into the grate.
”Minister for Magic's Office,” he called and the green fire appeared. After some hesitation, he stuck his head into
the fire. Feeling rather dizzy, he could see another office and the only person there was the other Minister.
”Minister,” he asked.

Kingsley started and turned to his fireplace. ”Yes?”

”This is the... Muggle... Prime Minister. I have a report of a teen girl popping out of thin air.”

Kingsley drew his wand and dispatched his Patronus immediately. ”I'll be there shortly. Mr Potter will join me.”

The Prime Minister pulled himself out of the fire place and the green fire vanished. ”Why can't they have
phones, like normal people,” he mumbled as he dusted ashes from his suit.

One of Harry’s first initiatives as Head of the Auror Office was to work his people into shape. The DA were on
their game, but the veteran Aurors were not. Harry refused to lose any more Aurors to slow reflexes or
deviances from certain procedures. Most important for him, though, was their reflexes and dueling skills.

Harry and Ron developed a training regimen not unlike the one the DA followed during their accelerated
program. Physical and mental exercise were important, including sharpening Occlumency and Legilimency skills.
Harry had pushed through a proposal for an updated Auror locker area and weight room, upgrades to the
dueling rooms, and some classroom tactical and procedural training, courtesy of Ron and himself.

For the most part, his initiatives were met with very little resistance. The physical part was a bit challenging for
the older Aurors, and even Smith and Dawlish had to admit that over the past several weeks, they’d noticed a
change for the better. Next to Ron, Andy Thompson was Harry’s most enthusiastic advocate and encouraged the
others to ”sook it up!”

Today, Harry paired with Cho. She wanted to get in some extra training time following her recovery and wanted
to be back in shape as soon as possible. It was a chance to test both their reflexes and reaction times. He
concentrated on Cho’s every possible move. He stood opposite her as she stood with her wand out. Her left foot
moved a little, indicating she was about to cast a spell. Since she would have to focus on that spell, he was able
to push a non-verbal Legilimens. Cho was taken by surprise, but managed to raise a defense.

Just before Harry could cast a stunner, Kingsley’s Patronus appeared, catching him off-guard. ”Harry, come
immediately,” the Minister’s voice said.

Cho used the distraction to her advantage, hitting Harry with a forceful Stupefy to the chest. Harry swore under
his breath, more for the annoying way he lost to her than for the physical pain from crashing to the floor. She
grinned wickedly. ”Oh, I'm so sorry, Harry,” she said with mock sympathy.

”Sure you are,” Harry replied rubbing his back. ”And I’m a ruddy centaur in disguise. Well, I’d better get going.
You lot! Another hour and you’re done here for today.”

Harry left practice, took a quick shower and put on some clean robes. He pinned on his badge with the Ministry
Auror Emblem emblazoned on it along with his name and rank, although in Harry's case, no one needed to look
at his badge to know who he was. He stepped out of the lift on the first floor and made for the Minister’s office.

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”Hello Harry,” Kingsley said gravely. ”We have a Muggle report of a possible sighting. We are going to visit the
Muggle Prime.”

They Flooed and once more Harry found himself in the Muggle Prime Minister's office. They were given copies of
the report and read it. Kingsley turned to the Muggle Prime. So she’s Apparating in plain sight. Perhaps this is
just the beginning. ”All right, the Aurors will handle this,” he said and turned back to Harry. ”Mr Potter?”

”We'll go to Wellingshire and at least save this...Sgt Atkins... from waiting at Mrs O'Donnell's home longer than
necessary,” Harry said as he leaned into Kingsley. He lowered his voice and added, ”Sounds like she’s a bit like
Molly’s Aunt Muriel.” Harry snickered.

Kingsley chuckled at Harry's comparison. He had met Muriel Prewett briefly while the Weasleys hid at her house
during the war, and then again at Fred’s funeral. ”I'll go back to the Ministry and arrange your Portkeys,”
Kingsley said.

”I’ll send for Weasley and Chang,” Harry declared purposefully.

”I'm just curious,” Kingsley said, cocking his head. ”Any particular reason for choosing those two?”

”Weasley’s a master strategist and Chang is our top dueller...if it comes to that,” Harry said. ”I wouldn’t trust
this potentially sticky situation to anyone else.”

”You’ll only have to hold out for a short time, if you find yourselves in a battle,” Kingsley promised. ”Minister,
we’ll advise you when we can.”

”Thank you,” the Muggle Prime Minister replied as they took their leave through the green flames in his
fireplace.

”Phones wouldn't hurt, but they seem to have better and more extraordinary ways of travel than we have,” he
said smiling a bit.

Less than twenty minutes later, Ron and Cho had arrived at Harry’s office, accompanied by at least a dozen
parchment airplanes concerning the justification for tearing out the wall between his and Ron’s offices. ”Ruddy
parchment Glumbumbles,” Ron growled as a few bounced off his head. ”This is Percy’s doing, I know it.”

”Sorry, mate,” Harry said. ”That’s the third attack since I sent the request to Arthur. We’ll deal with Percy later.

"Can't we hex the ruddy planes to attack the wall, doing some good while they're at it," Ron asked.

"We’ve got more annoying fish to fry.” Harry sighed.

”Right. Mafalda,” Ron said darkly, as he sat on the edge of Harry’s desk. Cho took a chair across from them.

Following a short discussion as to how to approach the manor house, they agreed on a plan and set it into
motion. They dressed in Muggle clothes and grabbed hold of the Portkey and were pulled off. They landed in a
back yard behind the Wellingshire pub just across the street from the police station.

Their first task was to find the Chief Superintendent who’d called in the report so they could get Mrs O'Donnell's
address. They entered the police station and found only one policeman at the reception desk. Harry confunded
him and then sent Cho to retrieve Mrs O'Donnell's address. She returned after only a few minutes with a slip of
paper in her hand.

”Did you get it,” Harry asked.

”Oh, it was no problem. He gave me the address and won’t remember I’d ever been there,” Cho said cheerily.

No wonder Mafalda was targeting Muggles. They’re easy to manipulate. However, once they arrived at Mrs
O'Donnell's home they would need to be more careful. If there were Death Eaters in the area, they had to be
taken by surprise in order to avoid any injuries.

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Harry knocked on the door and a policeman opened. ”Yes?”

”Sgt Atkins, I presume? We are here because of Mrs O'Donnell's report,” Harry said.
”You? Are you MI5,” he asked a bit taken aback. ”I... expected someone older.”

Sgt Atkins ushered them into the living room with Mrs O'Donnell. ”More people coming, eh?” she said without
further greeting ”You're probably some secret police or possibly military. I saw and heard enough during the war
to know things. Popping out of thin air... I guess they stole some secret gadgets of yours...”

Ron felt goose bumps all over his body. Harry hadn’t been kidding. This woman was a lot like Aunt Muriel.

”Mrs O'Donnell, I believe an experienced lady like yourself understands that we can't provide those kinds of
answers. You have also been of great assistance to our national security, and for that, we thank you. Now we’ll
take control of this situation,” Harry said, buttering her up as he could Muriel Prewett.

The old woman smiled warmly at Harry, as his words worked like a charm. They left the room and signaled for
Sgt Atkins to come outside.

”Thank you. I've had to listen to her prattle on for better than two hours now,” Sgt Atkins said, rolling his eyes
and mopping his brow.

Harry considered the options for a moment and decided to use his invisibility cloak. He turned to the policeman.
”I will accompany you to the manor. Knock on the door and tell them anything as to why you are there. If it's
the ones we are looking for, we'll take action. If not, finish your business and return here,” Harry told him.

Sgt Atkins nodded as Harry pulled out his cloak. ”You two. Stay alert and move in if there's... trouble.”

”Right...uh, sir,” they answered in chorus. They had to remember they were in the field in front of other people.
In this case, Muggles. They had to make a professional showing even if they were laughing inside, knowing
Harry hated to be called ”sir.” Harry threw them a glare and a smirk as he swept the cloak around himself,
disappearing beneath it.

Sgt Atkins turned to say something to Harry, but he was gone. ”Bloody wicked, that is,” Sgt Atkins gasped,
believing he'd witnessed some new high tech invention. He lowered his voice to just above a whisper and leaned
toward Ron and Cho. ”I suppose it’s classified, yeah?” Ron nodded and signaled for him to approach the manor.
Cho just smiled to herself and said nothing.

Sgt Atkins felt nervous when he knocked on the door. MI5, the orders not to go near the manor, the mysterious
young specialists. There was no answer at the door. He didn't understand what this was all about. He knocked
again and still no one answered and he could hear no sounds from inside.

Under his cloak, Harry cast a non verbal Alohomora and the door creaked open. Harry then cast Homenum
revelio, but apart from him and Sgt Atkins, no one else appeared to be there. Harry took off the cloak and
signaled Ron and Cho. ”Hold this position Sgt Atkins. We'll check the manor,” Harry said. He didn't want a
Muggle inside, in case there were any Portkeys, traps, or curses.
”Right you are,” Atkins replied with an air of relief in his voice.

”What's the situation,” Ron asked as soon as they were inside.

”It seems to be empty, but there might be a shielded room, curses, anything. We’d better check this out,” Harry
said.

”Shall I call for backup,” Cho asked.

”There's no indication anyone’s here, so hold off on that. For now, let’s just be careful,” Harry instructed. They
moved stealthily through the manor, carefully checking for any clues. As soon as they stepped into the dining
hall, the trouble began. From a shielded corner of the room, four persons appeared and without a fight, Ron and
Cho, who were the first two to enter the room, were taken and Portkeyed away. Harry cast a stunner at one of
the two remaining persons, but he had a shield up and was able to deflect it.

”Go,” A female voice commanded and the others Disapparated.

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With a flick of his wand Harry opened the curtains covering the windows. He found himself eye to eye with
Mafalda.

”Harry Potter,” she greeted with acid in her tone.

Both held their wands raised. ”Mafalda Prewett,” Harry replied in kind while considering his options.

”Before you try to capture me, let me tell you that unless I'm back with my people in five minutes, your friends
will be killed.”

Harry had no doubt she meant it. ”What will you do to them?”

”Two Aurors? I think I might trade them for something valuable,” Mafalda answered.

”It's beyond my authority to release the men we’ve arrested.”

”Potter, please. I said I might trade them for something valuable,” she said sarcastically. ”I will let you know
soon enough.”

Harry followed Mafalda's every move. He couldn't risk a duel that might lead to Ron's and Cho's demise.

”You’d better return them because you're only making things worse for yourself,” Harry shouted.

Mafalda smiled at him evilly and Disapparated. Harry was left alone in the manor, cursing Mafalda and cursing
himself. That little bitch! Ron and Cho were captured. Why didn’t I cast the revealing charm? What the hell was I
thinking? Harry left the manor at full steam and sent off Sgt Atkins, before returning to the Ministry.

Burdened with his thoughts as he entered the Auror office, Harry had begun to work himself up into a rolling
boil with a full-scale brood to match. I should’ve seen this coming. A simple charm would have prevented Ron
and Cho being taken. No matter. I have to get them back, but first I have to notify...Damn! Hermione’s going to
kill me, the Changs are going to be after my blood, and the Weasleys...bloody hell!

”Chief Potter,” Dawlish greeted him.

Harry stopped and looked at him. ”Dawlish. Gather the others. Weasley and Chang have been taken by
Mafalda’s people,” he growled through gritted teeth.

Minutes later, Harry surveyed his team of Aurors with brood-darkened eyes. He could see they all understood
the gravity of the situation and were hell-bent for leather to rescue Ron and Cho from their captors.

”What happened, Harry,” Thompson asked.

”Mafalda tricked us. She took Ron and Cho by Portkey. I have no idea where. She said she would contact us, so I
don’t believe she plans to kill them, at least not right away, but I have little doubt she might have them roughed
up a bit. We need a plan to locate Ron and Cho and bring them back safely. Report back in one hour. By then I
want ideas,” Harry snarled. ”In the mean time, I must speak with their families.” Again.

”Well then, lads and lassies,” Thompson boomed. ”Tae the brainstormin’ then!” The Aurors arranged themselves
into groups of threes and fours and began to discuss possible strategies for freeing their associates and doing it
safely. Despite the pall that hung in the air, they were optimistic. Most of them had gotten to know Ron enough
to be able to strategise as they thought he would.

Andrew Thompson was a natural leader and damned organised. Since the stakeout operation several weeks
before, the Aurors gravitated to Thompson in Harry’s or Ron’s absence. As ideas were hashed out, a
representative from the groups would report to him for his input. For years following, Harry would find Auror
Thompson invaluable in endeavours that required his skills in temporary field headquarters as well as at the
office.

Harry went straight to his surrogate father’s office. The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement
answered his knock. ”Come,” Arthur called in his typical jovial fashion.

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Harry opened the door and stepped in, his countenance grave and his heart pounding. ”Arthur... Mafalda
captured Ron and Cho. They should be safe for now. We’ll do everything we can to get them back safely.”

Arthur looked at Harry and nodded. ”I know you will Harry. Can you tell me anything about what happened?”

”We checked a possible hideout for Death Eaters and were fooled. Ron and Cho were Portkeyed out of there. It
happened very fast,” Harry said, still berating himself. ”I should’ve...”

”Now don’t you go blaming yourself, Harry. It goes with the territory,” Arthur chided, putting his arm around his
surrogate son.

”I need to see Molly,” Harry said with a heavy sigh. ”And after that, I'll go to Hogwarts and tell Hermione and
Ginny.”

”Of course. I’ll go to the Burrow with you. It’ll be easier for her to hear if I’m there,” Arthur said.

”I’d sure appreciate it, sir,” Harry said, trying to hold back the tears that began to sting his eyes. It broke his
heart to have to tell the kindest woman in the world that her son is in danger because of him.

Harry and Arthur Flooed to the Burrow to break the news to Molly. Harry was grateful Arthur had accompanied
him. He kept calm, assuring Molly that he had the greatest confidence in Harry’s abilities and that he would
move heaven and earth to bring Ron back safe and sound. Through her tears, Molly assured Harry that this
wasn’t his fault and that she trusted him with her son’s life. For the most part, Harry felt better about himself,
but there was still a nagging bit of guilt that bit at his heart.

”Harry, you've done your here duty for now. You’d better get to Hogwarts to see Hermione and Ginny,” Arthur
told him ”Tell Hermione she's welcome to come here after classes. In light of the circumstances, I'm sure
Professor McGonagall will allow her and Ginny come home if they want to.”

Harry Flooed to his and Ginny's room. They had decided to connect their fireplace with the one at the Burrow so
they wouldn’t have to burden the headmistress. Ginny was still in class, so the room was empty. Harry checked
her schedule and headed for the Potions classroom in the dungeons. Ginny and Hermione sat that class
together. At least I don’t have to go chasing all over the castle. Harry quietly stepped into Professor Slughorn’s
classroom and approached his desk.

”Harry Potter, my dear boy,” the professor greeted him. ”What brings you?”

”Ministry business, Professor. I need to see Miss Granger and Miss Weasley,” Harry told him in an official tone.

”Miss Weasley and Miss Granger, please go with the Head Auror,” Professor Slughorn told them in an official
tone. ”And take your things with you.”

Hermione and Ginny stood in stunned silence, tears glistening in their eyes as they listened to Harry's story.
They held to each other, trembling at the news. "Are they hurt," Hermione asked as her tears began to fall. "Is
Ron..."

”I'm sure they're fine,” Harry reassured them. ”If her plan was to kill any of us, she'd done that right there
at the manor.

Hermione relaxed a bit. It made sense. Instead of using Portkeys it would have been killing curses if that had
been Mafalda's intention.

Harry put his arms around his surrogate sister and placed a kiss on her head. "We'll bring him back safe and
sound, Hermione. I promise.”

”Harry,” Ginny said softly when it was time for him to leave for the Changs. ”Please careful. And don't blame
yourself, okay?”

"Gin, I..." He wanted to argue, but the pleading in Ginny's eyes put him off. "I won't, love. At least I'm trying not
to." But I can't help it. Harry kissed her tenderly and pulled her into an embrace. ”I'll see you at the Burrow

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later. I love you.”

"Love you," Ginny said, choking back a sob. She put her arm protectively around Hermione's shoulders as they
watched him walk away, Auror's robes and raven ponytail streaming behind him.

His visit with the Changs turned out to be less harrowing than Harry originally thought. The Changs were
concerned, but their confidence in Harry was quite evident in their manner. ”Cho is a very powerful witch and
has learned so much this year. I also know of Mr Weasley's talents and drive. I'm sure they'll be fine,” Mr Chang
said. ”And again, Harry, thank you so much for coming to us personally.”

”I’ll let you know as soon as we have news,” Harry promised.

His official duty completed, Harry returned to the Ministry, eager to hear whatever ideas the Aurors had. He was
just about to Apparate when an Otter Patronus appeared. ”I'm coming to the Ministry. I have an idea,”
Hermione's voice said.

That was music to Harry’s ears. Even though he had great confidence in his fellow Aurors, he trusted Hermione
more than anyone else with matters like this. Even more than Ginny, he realised. After facing death together so
many times and being saved by Hermione's wit, it was no wonder he had every confidence in her.

Harry strode confidently into the conference room. ”What have you got,” he asked.

Seamus looked up as Harry strode toward him. ”I have plenty of ideas about what to do once we locate ’em. The
only problem is... the locatin’ part...”

”I talked to people at the Portkey Office, but they can't trace Portkeys people make themselves,” Goldstein said,
frustrated.

”Aye, lads. We’ve got lot of ideas aboot what tae do once we get therre, Harry,” Thompson said, summing up the
brainstorming session. ”We just canna come up wi’ any ideas as to where therre is.”

Following this report, there was a knock at the door and Hermione was stepped in. All of the former DA
members greeted Hermione with a new spark of hope in their eyes. If she was there, it must mean she’s had
one of her brilliant ideas.

”So Hermione,” Seamus called with a glint in his eyes. ”What brilliant scheme have ya come with?”
”I have an idea, but it involves unauthorized magic. I'm not sure if it's dangerous or not, and there's no
guarantee it’ll work.”

”Well Hermione, we got nothin’. I'm willin’ to bet a Galleon that your plan works, but not me DA Galleon. That's
me own treasure,” Seamus chuckled, causing the others to do the same, even though they hadn't the slightest
clue what a DA Galleon might be. Hermione blushed and smiled.

”Aye, Irrish. Tha’s true,” Thompson agreed. ”We’rre willin’ tae hearr ye out, lassie.” The Aurors, many sporting
splitting headaches, all agreed.

”Pipe down, you lot. What's your plan Hermione,” Harry asked.

”I think we can put the Trace on a Patronus,” she said thoughtfully. ”Well...a simple form of the Trace, anyway.
But if it works, we should be able to discover where it goes. If it does, we can send another to give Ron and Cho
a message.”

”What's so unauthorized about that,” Susan asked, looking around at the others.

”First of all, we'll need to modify the Trace charm. Secondly, it has never been put on a Patronus. Thirdly,
there’s no telling what kind of effects it might have if it backfires, or what it might do to the one producing the
Patronus,” Hermione replied.

Harry looked at her with his signature Harry-grin. ”So we have a possible solution with a laundry list of
unknowns, is that right?”

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”That’s about it, yes,” Hermione replied with a sigh. She then realised why Harry grinned at her that way.

Since they were eleven years old, all of their adventures started out that way. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had no
idea what they would find through the trapdoor their first year when they went in search of the Philosopher’s
Stone. They found a magical obstacle course it took all three of them to best, but Harry kept Voldemort from
stealing the stone. In their second year, Harry and Ron had no idea what they’d find in the Chamber of Secrets
when they went to rescue Ginny. They found an almost-living memory of a young Tom Riddle and a sixty-foot
long basilisk, but Harry saved Ginny’s life.

In their third year, the three of them had no idea what would happen when they followed Ron and a huge dog
into the tunnel under the Whomping Willow. They discovered their Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was
a Werewolf and that the man convicted of murdering Harry’s parents was innocent and Harry’s godfather. In
their fourth year, they had no idea which spells Harry would need to survive the Triwizard Tournament—let
alone win it—so they researched and practiced every spell they could find. Harry won the tournament, but at a
terrible cost. Cedric Diggory was murdered and Voldemort returned.

In their fifth year, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna had no idea what they would find the night
they broke into the Ministry to rescue Sirius or how they’d even get there. They rode Thestrals that only Harry,
Neville, and Luna could see. They found that Harry had been deceived and lured there for the prophecy. They
had to fight off Voldemort’s top Death Eaters until the Order arrived and arrested many of them. In their sixth
year, they suspected Malfoy was trying to kill Dumbledore, but they had no evidence, but they followed and
monitored him anyway. Dumbledore was killed, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sent on a quest to defeat
Voldemort.

They missed their seventh year entirely as the three of them went on the lam, hunting for Tom Riddle’s
Horcruxes. They hadn’t been exactly sure what or where they were, but they did find and destroy them, which
led to the downfall and demise of the most evil dark wizard in history. They were used to dealing with plans
based on little or no information.

”Sounds like business as usual,” Harry snickered. ”And it sounds like a plan. I guess you'll do the Trace,
Hermione, and I'll produce the Patronus.”

”Sorry sir, be we can't allow that. You're the Head of the Auror Office,” Auror Smith called abruptly.

Harry's first impulse was to protest, but he recalled that the Auror manual clearly stated that the Head Auror
was not to endanger himself in a case like this. ”You’re right, Smith. Thank you. And please don’t call me sir,”
Harry said.

”Right. Sorry sir...er...Harry,” Smith said automatically.

”Volunteer,” he called.

”I'll do it,” Lavender said, showing her Gryffindor courage.

”Hermione and Lavender cooperating to rescue Ron? Who would have imagined that in sixth year,” Seamus
laughed, receiving a very sharp look from Hermione.

”You're not off the hook yet, Finnegan,” Lavender replied. ”Locating them is only the first part. Next is actually
getting them out from a Death Eater stronghold. Up to the challenge?” The look in Lavender’s eye revealed more
than friendly banter. There was more there but neither was letting on.

”Bring it on,” Seamus replied. ”I’m up for it.”

”All right, all right. Let’s get to work,” Harry scolded. ”LB, you’re with Hermione. Now.”

The next few days passed in a hectic blur. Harry, Ginny and Hermione stayed at the Burrow, not because it was
necessary, but because it felt right that they should be together as a family. George and Angelina dropped by,

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Percy stayed one night, and Bill and Charlie each wrote letters offering their support. Hermione was so focused
on adapting the Trace from a complex Ministry-controlled charm to a localized one to be cast on a Patronus, that
she didn't even complain about missing classes at Hogwarts this close to NEWTs.

”Have you considered using your other wand to locate them,” Ginny asked Harry as they lay in bed on night.

”The thought has crossed my mind. If Hermione's plan fails, I won't have a choice,” Harry said darkly, shaking
his head. ”I just hope it does, because I really don’t want to have that thing out in the open. It’s too
dangerous.”

”I know, Love, but desperate times...” Ginny didn’t need to finish. She just stroked his hair and kissed his brow
as she held him in her arms. ”Whatever you decide, you have my full support, you know.” She sent a wave of
the unspoken thing through their bond as she held him.

”I appreciate that, Gin,” Harry said with a sigh. ”I just can’t help but think...”

”Harry, we’ve been through this with Mum and Dad, and Hermione, too,” Ginny gently scolded. She turned his
face and gazed deeply into his stubbled face. Already, she could tell he wasn’t getting much sleep. Dark circles
began to form under his glassy eyes. ”Nobody blames you, Harry. That’s not even what’s important. What’s
important is doing what you do best to bring Ron and Cho home safely.”

A wave of distress hit her through the bond. ”What I do best, Ginny? So far, all I’ve done best is get two Aurors
killed, a couple more injured, and now Ron and Cho kidnapped,” Harry growled.

”Harry James Potter, you stop it this instant,” Ginny scolded, poking his chest. ”You didn’t get Ron and Cho
captured and you sure as hell didn’t get anyone killed. Harry, you and I both know very well that things like this
happen in your line of work. Mum and Dad know it, my brothers know it, and Hermione knows it; and what’s
more, we all accept it.”

”But Gin...” Harry started to argue, but Ginny cut across him.

”Let me finish,” she said less sharply. ”We all accept it because we love you and Ron, and it comes with the job.
We’re a law enforcement family now. We’re Aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix...well, Hermione
and I aren’t yet, but you know what I’m talking about.”

Harry gazed at his fiancée in utter awe. How does she do that? How did she get to be so wise at seventeen? As
she pulled him down against her breast and stroked his face, he fell in love with her all over again.

”Hush now, my love. Rest. You’ll need all your strength when you go to bring Ron home to us,” she cooed,
kissing his messy head. ”He and Cho are all right, Harry. I just know it.” Like hell you do, Ginevra.

”Gin,” Harry began, drawing concentric circles around her navel.

”Yes, Harry.”

”Thanks.”

”Anytime. Harry?”

”Yes, Gin.”

”I love you, but that tickles,” she giggled, holding his hand still.
”I love you too. Goodnight.”

”Goodnight.”

”You always have to have the last word, don’t you?”

”Not always. Just usually,” she smirked. Ginny snuggled down bedside him and turned her back against his
chest.

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Harry laid his arm across her waist and pulled her close, kissing her shoulder. He waited for her to fall asleep
and then said, ”not this time, Beautiful. Sleep well.”

He laid his head on the pillow, but just before he dropped off, Ginny rolled over and kissed his nose. ”Dream on,
Potter.”

Harry couldn’t help himself. His face broke into a grin. He coaxed her up against him and began kissing her
face—her, forehead, her eyes, her nose, her lips. ”As long as you’re dreaming with me,” he said and captured
her lips in a goodnight snog before she could reply.

Harry and Ginny agreed that she should continue to attend classes, so she left for Hogwarts every day, giving
Hermione copies of her notes so she wouldn’t fall behind. Late on the first of May, Hermione told Harry she felt
confident that she would be able to cast a Trace charm on a Patronus.

Despite her wishes to try it that same evening, they were interrupted by a Patronus from Bill. ”Fleur is in labour.
We’re on our way to St Mungo's” it said.

Everyone stopped doing what they were doing and the Burrow fell uncharacteristically silent, except for the
thump of Molly dropping down into a seat at the table. ”I'm becoming a grandmother,” she said. ”Bill and Fleur's
baby.”

They agreed that Molly and Arthur should go to St Mungo's while Harry, Ginny and Hermione would remain at
the Burrow in case other members of the Weasley family might show up. Harry looked at Ginny and broke into a
smile. She knew what he was thinking because she could feel the mischief through their bond.

”Don't... you... if you say it, tonight's snogging is off,” Ginny warned him.

”Say what,” Hermione asked.

”Harry finds Aunt Ginny immensely amusing,” Ginny said with a simper.

”Aunt Ginny?” Hermione turned bright red trying to hold back, but she couldn’t hold it back, so she exploded
with laughter.

”I hope you realise my dear brother will be Uncle Ron.”

Hermione stopped laughing as tears began to well up in her eyes. ”I'll be sure to remind him of that...
when...when he comes home.” She found herself torn between the joy of a new baby on the way and the
emptiness and uncertainty of Ron’s absence. Please let him be all right.

Ron and Cho were blindfolded upon arrival and led into a locked room. Their wands were taken away and the
walls, window, door, ceiling and floor were all prepared with wards. A wandless witch or wizard had no easy way
out. Once the door was shut and locked, Ron and Cho took off their blindfolds, a bit surprised that they had been
left unbound.

”Where are we,” Ron asked.

”I don't know,” Cho said going to the window. ”All I see outside is a forest. We could be anywhere.”

”Well then,” Ron said. ”All we can do is wait, yeah?”

”I suppose so,” Cho said a little shakily. ”You all right?”

”Yeah. You,” Ron asked.

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”I’m fine. Just a bit shaken,” she said, walking away from the window.

”Come and sit down, Cho,” Ron said, patting the floor next to him. ”Standing at the window won’t bring Harry
here any faster.”

”So you think he’ll find us,” Cho asked a little uncertain.

”Are you joking? Of course he will, and if I know Harry, he’s got Hermione on this too,” he said. ”Between Harry,
Hermione, and the others, they’ll have us out of here in no time.” At least I hope so.

For the next few days nothing happened. They were fed well, but no one came to interrogate them, no one told
them anything. They were unmolested. The only really hard part was the strain of being locked up waiting for...
rescue, torture, execution, interrogations? Talking about it seemed to help keep them sane. They had already
evaluated the chances of escape and came up with a definite maybe.

Finally, after days of waiting, the door opened and Mafalda entered. ”My dear third cousin, Ronald,” she greeted
him. ”And of course, Miss Chang.”

”What do you want from us, Mafalda,” Ron asked bluntly.

”I wanted to apologise for neglecting you these past few days, but I promise you’ll see a lot of me from now on,”
Mafalda replied in a sickeningly sweet tone. Without another word, she turned on her heel and left them.

Ron waited for the sound of the key in the lock. ”Honestly, Voldy was scarier,” Ron said trying to cheer them up.

Cho smiled a little. ”I guess she wanted to make us feel more uncertain. I’m guessing that their next move will
be to separate us. We've had each other for support for a few days. I’m sure Mafalda thinks that we depend on
that support by now, and will try to break us by isolating us. If she does, Ron, don’t buy a word they tell you
about me. I won't tell them anything.”

”I know Harry’s working on getting us out of here, and like I told you before, Cho, I'm willing to bet that
Hermione’s helping them figure a way to locate us,” Ron assured her once again. Only this time, he felt the need
to assure himself of it.

”You know. Hermione would have made a great Ravenclaw,” Cho said with a smile.

”She's a pretty fair Gryffindor. I’ve never seen a girl...er...woman with so much moxie,” Ron replied proudly.
She’s a damned good Gryffindor and that’s part of why you’re so madly in love with her, isn’t it Weasley?

Cho had been right. The next day, the first of May, she was dragged away. Ron tried to remind himself that it
was all a game designed to break him. Cho would be fine and Harry and Hermione wouldn't rest until they got
them out.

At St Mungo's, Bill paced back and forth in the waiting room like a caged lion. His wife was giving birth, but
overshadowing that was the fact that his youngest brother was missing. He was glad his parents were there,
even though his mother was an emotional wreck.

”I was never this nervous giving birth myself,” Molly moaned.

Bill looked at his mother. ”How much longer will this take,” he groaned. He resumed his pacing.

”Bill dear, it's only been an hour,” Molly said, trying to calm her eldest son’s nerves. Bill sat down, got up, and
resumed pacing again. Molly’s apprehension turned to mild amusement. ”Were you like that Arthur,” she asked
her husband.

”Nervous? Yes indeed, especially with Bill, being our first,” he said with mock gravity.

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Bill stopped and glared at his parents before returning to his routine. ”Just an hour? Are you sure,” he asked.
He’d been running his hands over his head so much that his hair had all but fallen loose from its ponytail.

”I am very sure, Bill. Now sit down and relax. Everything's fine,” Molly said. Bill sat down and she rubbed his
back. ”These things just take time.” Bill made to stand up again, but his mother held him down.

Arthur glanced at his watch. ”She's right, it hasn't been more than an hour,” he said with a wink. First-
time-father jitters. Better him than me.

Molly shook her head. ”Men... thank Merlin your only direct involvement in this process is the very act,” she
sighed.

Bill blushed. He had The Talk from his father while he was still in his teens, but he didn’t remember his mother
ever mentioning sex. With his wife giving birth and his mother making comments about the very act made him
feel literally caught with his pants down. He also had the very disturbing thought in his mind that his
parents...did it... and he was fighting back the mental picture that kept trying to form.

”William Arthur Weasley, sit down,” Molly told him firmly.

Bill sat down and tried to relax, but he still kept pacing in his mind. He took the rest of his hair out of the band
and let it fall around his face. ”Mum, this is maddening. Is Fleur all right in there?”

”Of course she is, dear. Women have babies every day,” Molly assured him. ”Besides, the first one usually takes
a bit longer.”

At the Burrow Harry was rather nervous too. ”Shouldn't we have heard something by now?” Hermione opened
her mouth to speak, but Harry cut across her to avoid one of her hours-long lectures. ”Gin,” Harry added.

”We might not hear anything until morning, Harry.” she replied. ”Sometimes labour can go on for hours or even
days on end.”

”You know what? It's close to midnight and tomorrow is the second of May,” Hermione observed.

”That is usually the day after first of May, Hermione,” Harry pointed out. ”What’s your point?”

Hermione gave him a sharp look. ”Don't you remember what we did on the second of May last year?”

”Oh Merlin! The Battle of Hogwarts,” Ginny remembered. ”It’s been a year since...”

”If you say so. I don't really remember the exact dates of those events,” Harry said. He didn’t want to
remember. As far as he was concerned, that part of his life was over and he wanted it left in the past where it
belonged.

At three o’clock on the morning of May second, a Healer walked out of the delivery room with a clipboard in her
hand. ”Mr Weasley? Is there a William Weasley here?”

At first Bill seemed paralyzed. In his parents’ presence Mr Weasley still applied to his dad. The Goblins at work
didn't use titles, but simply the name. Bill wasn't called Mr Weasley very often. Once he had let the words sink
in he realized the Healer was talking to him. Bill just about flew out of his seat. ”I’m Bill Weasley! Is she... is the
baby...?”

”Mr Weasley, you are the father of a beautiful baby girl,” she told him. ”Please follow me.”

He had a daughter. He was a father. He seemed rooted to the spot. ”Go,” Molly ordered.

Bill followed the Healer in a daze. The Healer led him to Fleur’s room. She looked exhausted, but never more
beautiful to him than she did this moment. Wrapped in a pink receiving blanket lay a tiny baby, his daughter.
Bill was surprised how small she was. Fleur's big belly was gone and instead, this gorgeous baby girl lay in her
arms.

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”Fleur, my love,” he said, taking Fleur's hand and kissing her forehead. He couldn’t say anything more as tears
filled his eyes and ran down his cheeks in tiny rivers.

”'Ere is our child, our daughter. ”’Ere...you must ’old ’er,” Fleur said giving her to Bill. ”Watch ’er ’ead. Zat’s
eet.”

Bill gently and gingerly took the tiny miracle in his strong arms. He had learned how to hold a baby, but the last
baby he had held was Ginny, and that was almost eighteen years ago. Bill gazed down in wonder at the little girl
as she slept. A flood of emotion, especially those of joy and love like nothing he's ever felt before filled him.
Fleur looked up at him and smiled.

”I sought of calling 'er Victoire.” Fleur said.

”Victoire,” Bill repeated and in that moment she opened her eyes ”I think she likes it.”

”Eet means veectory. Eet is only feeting, since eet eez zee second of May today.” Fleur reminded him.

”Of course,” Bill whispered. ”It's perfect. How are you feeling, Love?”

”Tired but 'appy. And a little woozy from a potion to get zee breast-meelk flowing.”

”Are you up to visitors? Mum and Dad are just outside,” Bill asked her.

”Of course. Victoire must meet ’er grandparents,” Fleur replied with a weak smile. ”Show zem een, Papa.”

Moments later, Molly and Arthur came into the room. Bill handed Victoire off to Molly first. She beamed into the
face of her first grandchild, as Arthur looked on with pride in his eyes. Grandparents. Molly knew from the very
first moment she saw Victoire that she would love being a grandmother. She handed the baby off to her
grandfather, who tickled a cooed at the baby. ”She’s a Weasley, all right. Red hair and blue eyes!”

”Oh, but Fazzer Weasley,” Fleur said with a giggle, ”all babies ’ave blue eyes.”

”Blue they are and blue they shall say, eh son,” Arthur countered with a wink.

”If you say so, Dad,” Bill replied. ”But remember that Ginny’s and the twins’...George’s eyes are chocolate
brown.”

”Yes, yes. Quite right,” Arthur allowed. ”Blue eyes or brown eyes, she’s beautiful, son. Congratulations,” He
handed the baby back to her father, who placed her in her mother’s waiting arms. Exactly one year to the day
after one Weasley left the world, another came into it.

Harry, Ginny and Hermione had gone to bed, but were awakened early when they heard someone in the house.
They headed downstairs, wands at the ready, to find Arthur making tea in the kitchen. He absentmindedly
whistled a tune as he worked, not realising three people stood there staring at him.

Ginny rushed to her father’s side and grabbed hold of his arm. ”Dad! Is it...is Fleur...?”

”It’s a Weasley,” Arthur announced. ”A beautiful little girl with red fuzz and blue eyes. They named her Victoire
to commemorate...well, you know.”

”That’s wonderful...Granddad,” Ginny said slyly.

”Yes it is...Aunt Ginny,” Harry teased.

”Uh...remember that you’re Uncle Harry now,” Hermione reminded him.

”How could I ever forget...Aunt Hermione,” Harry teased again. Harry turned his attention back to Arthur.
”How’s Fleur?”

”Fleur is just fine and she’s resting comfortably,” Arthur told them. ”You can come and visit later today. Bill,
Fleur and the baby are sleeping now and Molly’s keeping watch.”

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”Yes...of course we will, but we must try to locate Ron and Cho first,” Hermione said, trying not to cry again.
”Ron’ll be so excited...”

”Yes, we must focus on Ron and Cho,” Harry agreed. ”Then we’ll all come and see the new baby together.”

Arthur stared at his future son-in-law and daughter-in-law. He expected nothing but a highly professional
attitude from the Head of the Auror Office and there was no one better to lead the ”new” Aurors than Harry. But
still, Arthur was not used to dealing with Harry on this level, but they had to work out a professional relationship
now that he was Harry's supervisor and Department Head.

Harry and Hermione left the Burrow for the Auror Office where Seamus and Dawlish were waiting with
Lavender, helping her deal with her case of nerves.

”Are you up for this Lavender,” Harry asked.

”Let's get this over with. Seamus arranged for a Portkey to St Mungo's and he'll take me there in an instant
should something go bonkers.”

It was hard to believe that this was the same Lavender who, only two or so years before had been a gossipy,
giggling all-over-Ron girl; however, during this year, she and all of the former DA members had astounded him
with their maturity and dedication. Innocence and teenage frivolity had been further casualties of the war.

”All right. Let's do this, then,” Hermione said resolutely. ”Lavender, I explained the risks involved, didn't I?”

”For crying out loud, Hermione. Can we get on with it? I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't do
this if you thought it’d hurt me,” Lavender said.

Lavender drew her wand and the others followed suit. Hermione took final are-you-ready glances at Seamus,
Dawlish and Harry. ”It feels... right...” Harry shrugged.

”Expecto Patronum!” Lavender produced her Spider-monkey Patronus with confidence. Her feeble fifth-year
attempts were from another era and long forgotten.

Hermione took a deep breath and focused. ”I'm not sure I'll get it right the first time,” she said as flicked her
wand in a complicated series of patterns while she muttered the incantation. The monkey turned more yellow
than usual before it disappeared with a flash of bright light. ”Are you okay, Lavender?” Hermione asked.

”A bit dizzy, but...I’m fine,” she replied.

”I over-compensated for the difference between Tracing a physical person and a Patronus. That caused the
Patronus to dissolve, I’m afraid.”

”Then we do it again.” Lavender said with her jaw set and her head held high. She closed her eyes, smiled, and
took a deep breath. ”Expecto Patronum!” The silvery Spider-monkey appeared again, crouched down with its
head cocked as though waiting for instructions.

Hermione looked at her notes to figure out exactly what to adjust. Unauthorized magic was not an exact art.
She decided to go a little easier on her wand and emphasize one of the words in the incantation a bit softer.
Harry watched Hermione work. He was so proud of his friend who was more than friend; she was his sister.

Some wizards and witches far beyond Hermione’s years found authorised charm work difficult, but not
Hermione. Charms and spells always came easy to her. In fact, magic in general came easy to her, except flying.
That’s one thing Ron and Harry had on her. She wasn’t a flyer. But more importantly, she could re-forge highly
complex Ministry-controlled charms and manipulate them to her purposes.

Only a handful wizards and witches had that useful ability. Anyone could meddle with the Jelly-legs jinx to affect
other body parts, but this was something completely different. Harry didn't quite understand it, but basically, the
Trace was some kind of wide-ranged magic, which had to be very difficult and very powerful. Professor
Dumbledore had used that kind of magic to enable the food appear on the tables at Hogwarts. Harry watched as
Lavender's Patronus glowed purple this time and did not de-materialise or disappear in a flash of light.

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”I think we did it,” Hermione said. ”It’s ready.”

”You’re on, then, LB. Please instruct your Patronus to give Ron and Cho a message,” Harry said.

Ron sat alone in the room he and Cho had been left in for the past three days. The Death Eaters had taken Cho
the night before and hadn’t returned her. They told him how they had tortured her until she broke and told
them all she knew.
”We won't torture you for information,” a Death Eater claimed with a maniacal grin. ”We'll do you just for fun.”

Ron recalled Cho's and his agreement Don't believe a word they say. For all he knew, Cho could have been told
the same thing, but there was still the nagging possibility that she may actually have been tortured or even
killed. It didn't matter much which right now because whatever had happened to Cho, if anything at all, didn't
help Ron. Of course he hoped she was all right.

His wandering mind snapped back to reality with the sudden appearance of a bright light. He turned towards it.
It was a Patronus, or at least he thought it was. Ron had never seen a purple Patronus before, but purple or
orange with green polka-dots, this one bore a very welcome resemblance to a spider monkey.

”Ron and Cho,” Lavender's voice said, ”Hermione has managed to put a Trace on my monkey. If you receive this,
please know that we'll get to you. Don't give up hope.”

Ron's jaw dropped and a wave of love and affection ran through his body. Ron knew enough about Ministry-
controlled charms to know it was dangerous enough just to handle them, let alone manipulate them. Hermione,
his wonderful, bright, and courageous Hermione.”She's mental, but I really hope it worked,” he mumbled to
himself with a chuckle. I’ll let her know how bright and wonderful she is when I get home.

Harry watched Hermione and Lavender with puzzled interest. Hermione seemed to be reading Lavender's mind,
as if there was something similar to Legilimency at work. The Patronus was connected to Lavender, and through
her mind, Hermione tried to follow its movements.

”I know where the Patronus went,” Hermione said, reaching for a map.”

Within minutes, Harry’s team were ready. ”Irish, LB, JD...you’re with me.” Harry handed each of them a couple
of stunning grenades. ”Wands out, people.”

”Shouldn't there be more of us,” Seamus asked with raised eyebrows. Harry, Dawlish and Lavender looked back
at Harry.

”Four of us taking them by surprise should be quite enough,” Harry said. ”We don’t want to be tripping over
each other in a fight. Besides, if we have to fight our way out, Ron and Cho’ll make six.”

”Five...or seven,” Hermione said with a blazing stare at Harry. ”I know I'm not an Auror, but you'll have to fight
me before I let you leave me behind. I’ve got a stake in this too.”

Harry smiled his knowing smile. ”I wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind if you’re so hell-bent come along.
Hermione, you're most welcome.” Dawlish didn’t argue and Seamus and Lavender knew Hermione's capabilities
only too well.

Hermione placed a few objects on the table, and waved her wand over each of them, muttering Portus. ”I have a
Portkey here for each of us,” Hermione explained. ”In case someone gets hurt, we can get away from there
quickly.”

”Good thinking, Sis” Harry replied with a sly grin. ”Now listen up. We move in. Use the grenades. Don't worry if
you happen to stun Ron or Cho. Avoid it if possible, but we need the element of surprise, and those stunners’ll
do just that.” Harry turned to the others. ”Thompson, you lot know the drill!”

”Aye, Harry. That we do,” Thompson said with a curt nod. ”Good luck!”

The five of them held onto the Portkey as Hermione activated it. They felt the familiar tug behind their navels as
they were swept away to the place Ron and Cho were held. They landed in a forest in front of a manor house.

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”It's a pretty big place, but we need to search it quickly,” Harry said. ”Remember, if you see Mafalda, try to
knock her out, but our main objective is to rescue Ron and Cho.”

The Auror team and Hermione quickly took up their positions as Harry deployed them. There were three
entrances. Harry and Hermione would go in through the main entrance, Lavender and Seamus through the back
door, and Dawlish through the kitchen door. As soon as Harry gave them the signal, they attacked.

”Bombarda maxima,” Hermione shouted and cast her spell with fervor. Harry threw a stunning bomb through
what was left of the doorway. They moved in quickly. A Death Eater guard had been knocked out, taken by
complete surprise. The five of them quickly cleared the ground floor and met up with Harry and Hermione
covering the staircase.

”Is there a cellar,” Harry asked.

Dawlish nodded. ”Looks like it, yes.”

”Irish, LB... secure the cellar,” Harry ordered.

”Right,” Lavender said. ”C’mon, Finnegan.” Harry watched as Seamus and Lavender stealthily moved off to the
cellar door and disappeared through it. Their training in coordinated attack was about to pay off.

Hermione hadn’t trained with the others, but all of their adventures together, including having embarked on a
nine-month life-threatening quest, she had long-ago learned to read Harry's body language and facial
expressions so she knew what to do without explanation. She was impressed by Harry's way of taking charge.
During the Horcrux hunt, he had reluctantly been thrust into leadership of the trio, but now he developed his
nature leadership abilities. Harry nodded to Dawlish and threw another stunning bomb. As soon as it detonated,
they pounded up the stairs.

A door opened and a Death Eater appeared. ”My Lady,” he managed to shout before Hermione hit him with a
stunner.

Further down the hallway, they heard a noise. ”It's Ron.” Hermione cried. ”He's here and he's alive.” Hermione
lost concentration for a brief moment when her worry for Ron turned into pure joy. Suddenly, another door flew
open, and before anyone could think, someone cast a curse from the darkness. Hermione just barely caught it
out in the corner of her eye and attempted to throw a shield up to cover herself.

Unfortunately, the shield and the curse collided and caused an explosion. On pure reflex, Harry and Dawlish had
managed to throw their own shields up, leaving them unharmed, but Hermione was caught in the blast and
thrown backwards several feet. She lay motionless on the floor, covered with bits of dust and debris.

”Damn! JD, check on Hermione!” Harry threw his last stunning bomb through the offending door. It detonated,
but Harry choose to hit the door with a stunner of his own to swing it wide open against the possibility that the
attacker hid behind it.

Harry entered the room carefully, and all he found was that it was empty. Returning to the corridor he saw
Seamus and Lavender supporting a very weakened Cho between them. ”Cellar’s clear, Harry. There was one DE
there, but he Apparated off,” Lavender reported.

Harry nodded and turned to Cho. ”You all right?”

”Fine, under the circumstances. They tortured me with the Cruciatus curse for several hours,” Cho replied with a
weak voice. ”But I’ll live. They have our wands.”

”We’ll find your wands. I’m sure they’re here somewhere,” Harry assured her. ”Meanwhile, we'll have you
checked out at St Mungo's...just to be sure there’s no internal damage.” Cho nodded without argument.

Next he turned to Dawlish, his face full of concern and shock. ”How’s Hermione?”

”Unconscious. She took a blow to the head in the blast. I don't dare try to wake her up,” Dawlish answered
gravely. ”I’m not even sure I want to move her.”

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Harry cursed himself for letting her come along. Now he had to go down to the room where she’d found Ron and
tell him she’d been injured. ”St Mungo's...” Harry concluded. ”Cho, can you take her with you?”

Cho nodded. ”Of course.”

”And Cho...” Harry added, ”there are probably members of the Weasley family there. Bill and Fleur had their
baby this morning. Irish, you're with me. JD, cover us.”

Seamus and Harry carefully checked the other rooms on that floor, but they were all empty. Finally, they
unlocked and opened the room Ron was held in. ”What in Merlin's name...” he started, but the brooding in
Harry’s face made Ron stop.

”Ron, Hermione took a blow to the head. Cho's taken her to St Mungo's,” Harry said darkly.

Ron forgot all about being released. ”Why did you bring her along? What the bloody hell were you thinking,” Ron
thundered in an explosion of fury. The frustration of having been locked up against his will had broken forth and
poured itself out over Harry.

”Actually, she insisted,” Seamus said in defense of his Chief.

”She had no business being here! If anything happened to her, I'll personally beat the crap out of you, Potter,”
Ron screamed half out of anger and half out of desperation.
And I’ll let you do it too, mate. ”Ron, we'll go to St Mungo's,” Harry said in a calm tone. ”I'm sure she'll be fine.
She’s a tough lady.” Ron calmed down considerably, but underneath, his blood simmered. ”And I might as well
tell you now...you're an uncle,” Harry added.

Ron walked out of the room and turned to Harry and Seamus. ”What are you waiting for?”

”Irish, you and JD get Jock and a few others to search the manor properly,” Harry said. ”Then go back to
headquarters and start on the bloody damned paperwork. I’ll...”

”Harry, go. Ron and Hermione need you. You should be with them and your family,” Seamus said softly, clapping
a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

”Thanks mate. I'll leave you in charge then,” Harry said as he caught up with Ron. ”Let’s go, brother.”

Harry and Ron Apparated to St Mungo’s and approached a very bored-looking receptionist. ”Harry Potter and
Ron Weasley. We are here to see Hermione Granger, Cho Chang and Fleur Weasley.”

The receptionist’s first reaction was to treat them with the indifference she usually treated visitors with, but
when she got an eyeful of these two fit young men in Auror’s robes, she decided it would be best to be at least
co-operative, if not polite.

”Take those lifts to the fourth floor, gentlemen,” she said pointing to their right.

”Thank you,” Harry said. He guided a now-brooding Ron toward the lifts.

The receptionist followed them appreciatively with her eyes as they strode away like men on a mission. I’ve just
met Harry Potter and Ron Weasley...and they’re much hotter in person!

They stepped out on fourth floor and headed for Hermione’s room. They met an elderly Healer who reminded
Harry of Madame Pomfey. She recognised them immediately. ”Mr Weasley, come with me please.”

Harry nodded to his friend. ”I'll be right here,” Harry said taking a seat on the sofa.

”Thanks, mate,” Ron said shakily.

Harry noticed a woman and a boy of about nine years old seated nearby. They stared at him as though they
couldn't believe Harry Potter was real and in the same room with them. They had seen photos of him in the
Prophet, but now he sat there in the same waiting room, a living, breathing person.

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Ron followed the Healer into the room where Hermione lay, still and unconscious. Cho was with her. ”How is
she,” Ron asked, hurrying to Hermione’s bedside.

”It's too soon to tell,” the Healer replied kindly. ”We were able to repair her fractured skull and her life isn’t in
any real danger. But for the moment, she remains unconscious.”

”Can you wake her? Is she...” Ron tried to ask more, but a sob threatened to escape his constricting throat.

”We can wake her up, sure, but that might damage her brain. We’ve given her several restorative potions to
help stabilise her. If they work properly, we will know more soon, but it may take a week before we can be
certain.”

”Certain of what,” Ron asked, himself uncertain if he wanted to hear the answer.

”Of permanent brain damage,” the Healer said with a sigh. ”Or...if she's simply unconscious as a result of the
impact.”

”I'll be right here. I want to be by her side when she wakes,” Ron said pulling out a chair.

The Healer nodded as Ron's eyes filled with tears. Her heart went out to this lovely young couple as he took his
fiancée’s hand. ”Is there anything I can do, sir?”

Ron looked up at her with red eyes, puffy from lack of a decent night’s sleep and red from the burning tears he
fought to hold back. ”Just get her well.” Ron sobbed. ”And please update Harry. She’s like a sister to him.”

She nodded. ”Of course I will, Mr Weasley. If you need anything, just let me know.” The Healer turned and
walked out the door to speak with Harry.

”Are you all right, Cho,” Ron asked as he pulled himself together.

”I'm fine. I waited for you to get here. I'll leave you now,” she said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
”If there’s anything I can do, please just tell me. I owe her my life.” Cho left quietly, and stepped out of the
room.

The Healer returned to Harry, who stood up expectantly. ”Mr Potter...I think it's safe to say Mr Weasley will
remain here. I assume you wish to join your family. New of your arrival here spread like wildfire and I
understand your fiancée is visiting her new niece on the maternity ward.”

Harry nodded his head smiling. ”And Hermione?” The Healer related everything to Harry that she had told Ron
about Hermione's condition. ”...and so it’s just a waiting game, now.”

”Thank you, Healer. I think I’ll go update the family and...see the baby,” Harry said with a heavy sigh. Tears for
his beloved surrogate sister stung his eyes and he tried to blink them back, but it was no use. They began to
fall. He sat back down for a moment and hid his face in his hands until he could collect himself before he faced
Ginny and the family.

Harry appeared at the maternity waiting area. Molly, Arthur and Ginny were there, and by the look on his face,
they could tell immediately that something had happened. ”It's Hermione isn't it,” Ginny asked, trusting the
flashes and emotions she had caught from Harry's mind through their bond.
Harry nodded and buried his face in Ginny’s hair. He breathed in her wildflowers and strawberry scent and
began to sob. Ginny held him to her and stroked his hair, whispering comfort into his ears. They stood there in
their embrace for several minutes until Harry could collect himself again. ”She has a head injury, but they’re not
sure how severe. She’ll live, but...they can’t say if there’s going to be any permanent...damage,” Harry said,
wiping his eyes.

He told them about the mission and how Hermione had insisted upon tagging along. He told them about the
explosion and how Cho brought her to the hospital. Molly and Ginny gasped in shock and desperation, holding
their hands to their mouths as tears welled up in their wide eyes.

”And how’s Ron,” Arthur asked.

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”Worried. He wasn’t hurt. He's with her right now. He won’t leave her,” Harry said, shaking his head.

Bill came out of the room he and Fleur shared and stopped in his tracks at the looks on the faces of his parents
and his sister and her fiancé. ”Hey, it's a birthday,” he said cheerfully.

”Bill, Hermione's been seriously injured,” Molly said, her brown eyes glistening.

”No,” Bill gasped. ”How? What happened?”

Harry once again explained about the Patronus, the mission, and the explosion. With each telling, his heart beat
heavier and heavier in his chest. He still blamed himself because he should never have allowed her, a civilian, to
come along on such a potentially dangerous mission. I should’ve argued. I shouldn’t have let her come. He chose
to ignore a still, small voice in the back of his mind that told him all the arguing in the world wouldn’t have
stopped her. His best friend—his sister—lay comatose in a hospital bed with her brilliant mind on the line.

The rest of the day passed in a fog of surrealism. The joy over the new addition to the family was overshadowed
by Hermione’s condition. It was difficult to focus on the joy of new life while Hermione lay unconscious with a
grieving Ron by her side.

That afternoon, Fleur got out of bed with Victoire in her arms.”I will see Ron and 'Ermione,” she said flatly.
Ginny accompanied Fleur to Hermione's room, where they found Ron asleep in his chair with his head resting
against Hermione's arm. He held Hermione’s hand clasped in his as he dozed. He awoke when his sister and his
brother’s wife walked in.

”Ron, how are you,” Ginny asked, giving him a loving hug. ”Are you...?”

”I'm as well as can be expected, I guess. Given the situation, there's no other place I'd rather be right now than
here... with her.” Ron gazed with loving sadness at the sleeping face of his beloved Hermione.

Ginny gave her brother another bracing hug as Fleur stepped forward. ”Ron,” she said softly, ”zis eez your
niece, Victoire.”

Ron gently released Hermione’s hand and took Victoire in his arms. ”Hey, little one. I'm your Uncle Ron,” he
said. ”And that beautiful lady right there is your Aunt Hermione.” He gazed at the bundle in his arms and
stroked her little face with the back of his long index finger. ”Blimey. Uncle... it sounded ridiculous until I took
her in my arms.” Ron smiled wanly at Ginny, before he handed Victoire back to her mother.

Sensing that Ron wasn’t really in the mood to chat, Ginny and Fleur left him with hugs and pecks on the cheek
to return to the family. As soon as they left the room, he took Hermione's hand firmly in his again as he allowed
his tears to flow freely and unashamedly down his freckled face.

The Assistant Head of the Auror Office never thought too much about the existence of higher powers, even at
the most frightening hours in his life. But this moment held more terror for him than the hunt for the Horcruxes
or any battle he’d ever fought in the war. In desperation, he uttered what he thought might pass as a prayer.

”I know I have no right to ask, since I really don’t know if you exist, but if you’re there, please hear me. I love
this woman with all my heart, so much that I’d gladly give my life for her. I can’t...I don’t want to live without
her; she’s life to me. Everything I am is because of her; without her, I’m nothing. I beg of you—please don’t
take my sweet Hermione where I can’t follow.”

He kissed her forehead and brushed her lips with his own. He kissed her hand and held it to his face as he
whispered to her. ”I love you so much, Hermione.” He lay his shaggy red head on her chest, massaging her
hand. ”Please come back to me,” he sobbed. ”I can’t live without you.” He fell asleep against her breast, his big
heart breaking with love for her.

Draco awoke to a tapping sound against his bedroom window the morning of May third. Astoria lay next to him,
still asleep. He carefully slipped out of the bed so as not to disturb her. She looked like an angel to him as she

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lay there with her blonde hair spread across her pillow. He padded over to the window to open it. The owl stuck
out its leg so he could remove the scroll tied around it. He sat down in an easy chair in the corner and opened
the letter. His heart sank; it was from Mafalda.

”This is your lady. I will need a diversion. You will release Fiendfyre at the Ministry by noon on 5 May.”
She’s got to be ruddy joking! Fiendfyre at the Ministry? In two days? ”Bloody hell,” Draco muttered to himself
and dropped his face into his hands.

Chapter 21: Full circle


[View Online] [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Chapter 21 – Full Circle

This was the moment he dreaded. Harry had to break the news to Hermione’s parents. How am I going to tell
them that their daughter is lying comatose in hospital and nobody has any idea whether or not she’ll come out of
it with her mind intact? He couldn’t help but blame himself, although everyone kept telling him it wasn’t his
fault. But, dammit, this time it hit too close to home. Wasn’t my fault? I could have made her stay at the office
with Jock and the others. Way to go, Potter.

Harry took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Mr Granger answered it and broke into a warm smile to find
Harry Potter on his doorstep. ”Ah Harry. I'm most pleased to see you. Our clinic is doing great and...”

Harry’s grave expression gave Mr Granger pause. ”Mr Granger, is your wife here with you?”

”Well...yes, of course. Please. Come in. Has something happened,” he asked as he ushered Harry to the living
room. Mrs Granger sat on the sofa. She had been reading about a new procedure in a dental journal, but put it
down when she heard voices in the hall. ”Dear, Harry’s here.”

”Harry. How nice to see you again,” she said with a perfect smile. ”What brings you...”

”Mrs Granger,” Harry cut across her. ”I'm here on official business. Hermione’s been seriously injured.” Harry
said it as calmly as possible. His experience carrying dour news to the families of his colleagues the past couple
of months made him feel a little more confident.

”Is it... bad,” Mrs Granger asked. ”Is she going to be all right?” Mrs Granger’s eyes held all the terror that grips a
mother’s heart when her child is in danger, whether that child is an adult or not.

”What happened,” Mr Granger asked urgently as he put a comforting arm around his wife.

Harry took another deep breath and told them the whole story—the modified spell, the mission, Hermione’s
insistence upon coming along on the mission.”The Healers say there's no risk to her life, but they say it's too
soon to tell if there's any permanent... brain damage.”

Tears streamed down Mrs Granger’s face as Mr Granger attempted to pull her in closer to him as she wept.
”Head injury. Can they handle this at your hospital or should we transfer her to one of ours?” Mr Granger
swallowed hard, trying to choke back his own tears. Hermione was his only child—a brilliant girl—with a serious
head injury. He could scarcely take it all in.

Harry thought about it. ”I'm not a Healer, but I think we treat injuries a lot better. Head injuries are common in
Quidditch matches and are usually taken care of quickly. The Healers know what they’re doing.”

Mrs Granger relaxed a bit. ”C-can we see her?” She blew her nose into a tissue from a box on the end table and
then dabbed at her eyes with a fresh one.

Harry nodded. ”I'll take you there immediately.”

When he heard the door open, Ron looked up from Hermione’s bedside where she still lay unconscious. Mr and
Mrs Granger entered the room and stepped quietly toward him. ”Ron,” Mrs Granger said, cupping his stubbly
face in her hand. ”You look tired. You need to get some rest—we’ll sit with her for a while.”

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”Thank you, Mrs Granger. I'm not exactly comfortable here, but I can't leave her.” Ron said, sadly shaking his
head. ”I won’t leave her.” He held fast to her hand with his jaw set and his bleary eyes fixed on her face.

”Son, you need to get some rest,” Mr Granger said. ”Wearing yourself out and making yourself sick isn’t going to
help her. She wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.”

More and more, the Grangers had come to understand what their daughter saw in Ron Weasley. He had
appeared to be a prankster, a mediocre student at best, and not an intellectual counterweight for their gifted
daughter. He often came across as jealous and hot-tempered, but now they knew him a lot better. Ron had a
sharp mind, something Mr Granger had learned the hard way on the chessboard. Ron had a wonderful sense of
humour and a strong loyalty to friends and family.

Now, Ron’s fight was with his emotions. He was worried sick about Hermione, but he proved his love for her as
he sat there hour after hour, unwavering, holding her hand, talking to her, beseeching whatever god or gods to
allow her to return to him, whole and intact. This kept him sane. Fundamental in that sense was his
immeasurable devotion to his family, and as far as he was concerned, Hermione was the closet family he had.

Rather than argue with her daughter’s fiancé, she turned to conversation. After all, he’d been sitting there since
just after Hermione had been admitted and knew more than Harry could have. ”How is she,” Mr Granger asked
tearfully.

”The Healers say that the potions they keep giving her are working. I hope they work better than they smell.
They don't want to wake her up before they’re sure it’s safe.”

”We'll stay here too, then. At least one of us will be here,” Mrs Granger promised. ”There’s no sense in you
sitting here alone.” Mrs Granger put a motherly hand to his face and gave him a bracing smile. Ron was grateful
to have some company as he kept his vigil at Hermione's side.

Harry had to return to the Auror Office. He still had a job to do and he couldn’t blow it off to sit at St Mungo’s.
Besides, he’d been rather avoiding Hermione’s room. He just couldn’t bring himself to watch as his best friend
agonised over her because he, Harry, had used poor judgment in allowing Hermione to go on that mission with
him. You can’t avoid it forever, Harry. Ron needs you to help him through this.

Harry stepped into his office to find Draco waiting for him. ”Malfoy,” Harry said.

”Potter. Have you seen the Prophet yet today?” Draco held out the Daily Prophet for him to look at. ”This doesn’t
look good.”

Harry shook his head. He took the paper and began to read.

”Hermione Granger in St Mungo's


It is reported that Hermione Granger was rushed unconscious to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and
Injuries. Healers would not comment, but The Ministry of Magic confirmed that Miss Granger participated in an
Auror mission to arrest fugitive Death Eaters. Her condition is stable and non-life-threatening.”

Harry looked at Draco. ”What this article doesn’t say is what doesn’t look good.”

”I honestly hope she'll be all right,” Draco said. ”How’s Weasley holding up?”

”About as well as can be expected. He won’t leave her side,” Harry said. Who are you what have you done with
Draco Malfoy? ”So, I know this isn’t a social call. What’s going on?”

Draco fished in his robes and pulled out a bit of parchment. ”This,” he said, tossing it onto Harry’s desk.

”Fiendfyre? Here?” This was just about the last straw for Harry. First the kidnapping, then the explosion that put
Hermione in St Mungo’s, and now Malfoy tells him he has to unleash Fiendfyre in the Ministry by noon on the
fifth! Could this nightmare get any worse?

”If I don't do it, she’ll know I'm not under her control,” Draco said, wiping his face with his hands. ”I'm... not
keen on the idea, trust me. I’ve seen what it can do, and I sure as bloody hell can’t control it! I’m good, but not

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that good.” The truth was that Draco Malfoy was a rather talented wizard, but he was no Hermione Granger and
he was never a match for Harry.

”Yes, I understand,” Harry said thoughtfully. ”I must talk to the Minister about this. I'll get back to you.”

Draco nodded but didn't get up. ”There was one more thing. Of a personal nature.”

”Yes,” Harry asked feeling rather surprised by Draco's almost humble tone.

”I haven't been together with Astoria for very long, but I know she's the girl,” Draco mumbled, clearly
uncomfortable sharing this kind of thing with Harry Potter.

”I'm happy you found love, Draco,” Harry said feeling very awkward.

”The thing is...I...I’ve thought of proposing...but getting married means Ministry involvement with the Wedding
charm and I resent this Ministry.” It was obvious to Harry that Draco struggling to get to the point, but said
nothing. ”In fact, there's only one person I would even consider allowing to cast the Wedding charm over us.”

”Well...I'll put in a good word for you if you're afraid this person might hesitate,” Harry offered, wondering why
on earth Draco had come to him with this.

”You don't understand, do you, Potter? I want you to do it,” Draco said with a mild snort. He raised his head and
looked Harry straight in the eye.

Harry's jaw dropped. ”Me? I’ve never cast the Wedding charm, and they won't allow me do it only because I'm
Harry Potter,” Harry gasped.

”They’ll allow it because you're Head Auror. Any Head is authorized to cast the Wedding charm. I thought you
knew that,” Draco explained, clearly more comfortable in the position of lecturing Harry.

”Let me get this straight. You want me to marry you and Astoria,” Harry said more in a way as if I was thinking
out loud rather than speaking to Draco.

”It's a mental world, right? But yeah. I don't like you, but for some bloody reason I respect you, Potter. Maybe
because of what you did—witnessing on my mother's behalf. I don't know.”

Harry was stunned. Cast the Wedding charm for Draco Malfoy, of all people. That sounded downright bizarre—to
say the least.

”Yeah, mental... I’ll have to discuss that with the Minister as well...and get back to you,” was all Harry was able
to tell him at that moment.

Harry shook his head all the way to the minister’s office. If someone tried to tell Harry even two years ago that
he would have a working relationship with Draco Malfoy, he’d have laughed uproariously in his or her face. And
then to have this same Draco Malfoy ask him, Harry Potter, his arch nemesis, to cast the Wedding charm over
himself and his fiancée—impossible. Unthinkable. This day couldn’t get any weirder! Could it?

When Harry arrived at Kingsley’s office, he was in a meeting. Harry waited in the antechamber allowing his mind
to wander once again. Fiendfyre. Kingsley would certainly like to know about that. And this whole Wedding
charm thing. He had no idea he held the power to marry people. Unreal. Soon, the door opened and several
witches and wizards, department heads, filed out.

The Minster welcomed his Head Auror into his office with a firm handshake and a clap on the back As soon as
the door closed, Kingsley’s countenance turned sympathetic. ”Harry, I heard about Hermione. I hope she’ll
recover,” Kingsley said. ”How’s Ron doing?”

”She’s tough, Kingsley. Ron’s holding up, but he won’t leave her side,” Harry told him. ”Her parents are with
him. I took them there before I came here. I felt it was my responsibility to...”

”It's the place he should be right now,” Kingsley said with a nod. ”Harry, I hope you’re not blaming yourself for

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this. In their report, Finnegan and Dawlish state that she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Harry smiled and gave a soft chuckle. ”You’ve got the measure of our Hermione, that’s for sure, but I still wish I
would have made her stay here...or go right back to Hogwarts.”

”Harry, she’d never let you do this without her, especially since it was her brilliant charm work that located Ron
and Auror Chang.”

”Yeah, I know,” Harry said with a sigh. ”But that’s not why I’m here.”

”Oh? What's on your mind, then, Harry?”

”Draco Malfoy came to see me. He got this note from Mafalda.” Harry handed him the parchment and waited for
the Minister’s reaction.

”Mafalda probably knows, as Draco does, that he won't be able to control it. The Ministry could be devastated.
But what's the bigger picture here,” he wondered.

”What do you mean?”

”Does Mafalda want us kept busy here, while she implements her plan. Or is she guessing that Malfoy won't
obey her?” Kingsley began to tap his tented fingers together in deep thought.

”Would she suspect he’s thrown off the Imperius,” Harry asked.

”Good question. After all, Voldemort hadn’t detected Severus Snape’s ruse, but on the other hand, Mafalda
knows that Voldemort was deceived somehow.”

”I have one idea,” Harry said. ”I thought of a way to enter her mind. If we do that by noon that day, we may be
able to learn something.”

”What’s your plan, Harry?”

”Draco is connected to her mind. I think we can use that connection to our advantage. I'm not sure how legal it
would be, though,” Harry warned. ”It involves a bit of strong Legilimency.”

Kingsley looked at Harry thoughtfully. ” Sweet Merlin, Harry! What borders do we cross and which ones don't
we, if we’re to come out of this with a clear conscience?”

”Ginny’s constantly telling me that desperate times call for desperate measures,” Harry said, rubbing his aching
forehead. ”Must be all that Shakespeare she reads.”

”Shakespeare? Who’s...”

”A sixteenth-century Muggle playwright. Never mind,” Harry said with a snort. ”Anyway, we can safely assume
that now is one of those desperate times?”

”I’d say so. Do whatever you need to do,” Kingsley conceded. ”I want this matter resolved as soon as possible.”

Harry explained his plan. He would connect with Draco's false mind and, through it, cast Legilimency to break
into Mafalda's mind. If it worked perfectly, he might be able to gain control of her and gain the upper hand by
convincing her to give herself up. But if nothing else, he’d hoped to at least learn her plan. Harry was confident
it would work, but wished Hermione could be there to support him.

”Minister, there's another thing,” Harry said, still in a state of amused bewilderment.

”There’s more?”
”No, this is something different...really different. Malfoy told me he’s going to propose to Astoria Greengrass. He
asked me to cast the Wedding charm.”

Kingsley looked astonished and then began to laugh. ”How do you feel about that?”

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”I'm not really sure, but if I have the proper assistance to prepare me for it, I’ll do it. I’m honoured in a bizarre
sort of way.”

”All right, Harry. I guessed long ago that you'd receive requests to cast the Wedding charm sooner or later. Once
this business with Mafalda is finished, I'll assign you an instructor.”

”Thank you. Now what about the Fiendfyre?”

”In case you can't break into Mafalda's mind, I’ll cast it myself, set the fire alarm, and then see what happens.
We must make her believe he's co-operating with her and that her plan is a success. We will of course need
every Auror and Squad from MLE on highest alert.”

Harry arrived at Hogwarts castle late in the afternoon. Ginny had decided to return full-time, and Harry just
wanted to be wherever she was. Since Ron and Cho had been kidnapped, he hadn’t had much time for her and it
was wearing on his nerves. He had her love through their bond, but he just needed to hold her and be held by
her. And now with his worry over Hermione, he needed the comfort Ginny’s touch offered him. ”Any news about
Hermione,” he asked hopefully. He melted into Ginny’s arms and immediately felt at home there.

”No. Still the same,” Ginny replied. ”I heard you brought Mr and Mrs Granger to St Mungo's. It must’ve been
hard for you to tell them.”

”I think you know pretty well what I felt,” Harry said referring to their bond.

”I know, Love,” she said, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. ”You’re exhausted. Come and lie down
for a bit.” Ginny unclasped his robes and tossed them over a chair. She led him to the bed and coaxed him to lie
down. Then she climbed up and cuddled him against her breast.

It was good being back in their room together, despite their worries about Hermione and the Fiendfyre. Just
lying here in her arms allowing Ginny’s love to flow between them cleared Harry’s head and chased away the
guilt that gnawed at his heart. Her every caress eased the pain and relaxed his tense and aching muscles,
allowing him to relax.

”What's your plan,” Ginny asked, kissing his furrowed brow. She knew Harry needed her most at times like this.
She knew he still harboured some guilt about Hermione’s present condition, but at least he wasn’t brooding.
She’d made sure of that.

”We’re going to try to break into Mafalda's mind,” Harry said.

Ginny gazed at her Harry as she held him. He’d biome a strong leader. He had taken over the Auror Office from
Dawlish shortly after Gawain Robard's death. He currently faced an enemy just as evil and almost as powerful as
Voldemort. Hermione lay seriously injured with Ron by her side, but even in his heartache for them, Harry still
stood strong. He seemed to trust his own abilities a lot more than he ever had done before, but remained the
humble and gentle person he’d always been. Ginny loved his strength, his determination, and his heart. She had
seen these qualities in him when he led the Gryffindor Quidditch team, so she wasn't surprised to see them
bloom now.

”You know I'll support you any way I can,” Ginny promised.

”I know, Gin. It's not that I want to shut you out, but I'd prefer to use the Aurors. We have trained so much
together to become an effective fighting force and I can’t have another incident like this thing with Hermione.”

Ginny understood what he meant. One thought about Hermione explained a lot of Harry's opinion too. A while
later, they undressed for bed, but neither could sleep.

”Gin, you still awake,” Harry asked just above a whisper.

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”What kind of a rat-arsed question is that? Really, Auror Potter,” Ginny smirked, rolling over to face him.

”Huh? What’s that supposed to mean, Miss Weasley,” Harry grunted, expecting a more romantic answer.

”How the bloody hell would I answer if I were asleep?”

Harry thought about it for a few moments. ”I guess you're right. It's a pretty silly question to ask,” Harry
agreed. ”I just thought if you were awake, we could read a bit from Mum’s diary.”

Ginny liked the idea. It had been a while again, and thinking about something other than Harry's task and
Hermione's situation felt right. They had already read about James’ and Lily’s induction into the Order of the
Phoenix and how James and Sirius had been dispatched on several missions to gather information while Lily
brewed potions for the organisation. One autumn evening in 1978, Professor Dumbledore had called an
important meeting. This was the event Lily wrote about:

”15 October 1978,


Professor Dumbledore called a meeting of the Order today. The situation is a lot worse than we knew.
You-know-who is virtually running the Ministry; however, there is hope. Professor Dumbledore has learned that
the chairman of the Wizengamot is Imperiused. We’ll put an end to that. Regaining control of the Wizengamot is
essential. This will be mine and James' first mission together to take on the Death Eaters. Oddly enough, calm
about it, but James is restless. I think he’s worried that I might be hurt, but he’ll settle once we’re under way.
Our plan is to take the chairman from his home and bring him to Professor Dumbledore so he can try to lift the
Imperius curse.”

”Blimey, Ginny,” Harry exclaimed. ”This is the first time they're going up against Riddle.” Harry referred to the
Prophecy claiming his parents, as well as the Longbottoms, had defied Voldemort three times. Harry knew that
much. This was the first hint at what Lily and James had done for the Order. Bringing the chairman of the
Wizengamot to Dumbledore was a big task and Harry was proud that his parents were chosen and entrusted
with this very delicate operation. Harry read on.

”I feel a bit uneasy, despite the success of our mission. That slime, Crabbe, saw us and that's what worries me.
James and I are now known enemies of You-know-who. There have been so many disappearances, deaths,
threats... I don't really see any choice but to fight, and neither does James. I'm so glad I have James by my side.
I love him so.”

The entry was short. Harry and Ginny could sense that Lily felt they had passed a point of no return. Part of
their lives was now out of their control and in the hands of fate. ”They did what had to be done, but they were
eventually killed for it,” Harry said.

”You know perfectly well why they were killed. It had very little to do with them being in the Order,” Ginny said,
kissing the hand she held.

”If they hadn't been, they wouldn't have opposed Tom three times,” Harry retorted.

”Harry, you don't know that.” Ginny was, of course, right.

”Divination...” Harry sighed. Saying no more, they drifted off and finally fell asleep.

After seeing Ginny off to class on the fifth of May, Harry left Hogwarts for the Ministry. The first order of
business was a mandatory staff meeting in Arthur's office. Ron had been excused for obvious reasons. Kingsley
and the Heads of the Department of Magical Transportation Floo Network Division and the Muggleworthy Excuse
Office attended as well.

”As you know we might have a panic at noon,” Kingsley began. ”We’ll limit the Floo Network for a time, giving
us maximum control in case we need to evacuate quickly.”

Harry had no idea how the Floo Network functioned or how the Department of Magical Transportation monitored

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it, but he did understand that said limitation would increase capacity and allow Ministry personnel to escape
quickly and safely it the situation called for it. After all, the Minister for Magic was about to take part in a highly-
orchestrated ruse by releasing controlled Fiendfyre in the building. More than that, though, Harry didn't feel that
it was necessary for him to understand.

”We have our squads at full alert,” Arthur declared.

”Our plan is set and my people are ready to move in immediately,” Harry added.

Kingsley looked pleased. ”We’re truly whipping the Ministry into shape, I think,” he told them.

”Let's hope it still exists tomorrow,” Arthur said under his breath. ”We’re really going through with this?”

”The stakes are high, but in case Harry's plan fails, we have to play along. I'm confident I can control a
Fiendfyre. I can let it rage through the Ministry without causing too much devastation or injury.”

The others relaxed in light of Kingsley's strength. He was an experienced Auror, one of the few great ones left.
With a nod and wishes for luck, Harry left to prepare himself to attempt to infiltrate Mafalda's mind.

”Malfoy, are you sure about this,” Harry asked, once they had finished their preparations.

Malfoy looked at Harry and then his beloved Astoria, who had come along. ”I am,” Draco confirmed.

”And you know this is...”

”I know we're dealing with unauthorized magic. There's a risk that both of us might end up with fried brains next
to Professor Lockhart at St Mungo's. And for the record, I am aware that that risk applies to Mafalda too if we
manage to connect with her.”

Harry shook his head. He couldn't believe he'd ever co-operate with Draco like this. Neither could say he trusted
the other, but Harry trusted that Draco's love for Astoria was sincere and that he acted on that love. Malfoy
trusted Harry would rather take any backlash or danger upon himself rather than leave Draco, or even Mafalda,
to suffer the full consequences of magic gone awry.

Harry checked the clock in his office. Two minutes before noon. It was time. Unless they managed to make
immediate contact, they had to signal Kingsley to cast the Fiendfyre. Law Enforcement Squads were on full alert
to help the rest of the Ministry workers to evacuate, because it was necessary to give the illusion of an all-out,
but somewhat controlled, panic.

”Legilimens,” Harry muttered as he flicked his wand. Harry entered the false awareness outside Draco's mental
wall. He had never entered an Imperiused mind before, but he soon found something he perceived as a pipeline
leading away from Draco. Harry instinctively thought that was the connection to Mafalda's mind. Harry pushed
through the pipeline. It felt similar to Apparition.

Emerging from the pipeline, he realised he had been successful. He didn't waste any time. Mafalda was probably
aware of something happening, but with any luck he might conquer her mind before she knew what hit her.
Harry pushed hard and after an initial success, he could feel Mafalda launch a counter-attack. The pain in
Harry's head was almost as strong as a Cruciatus curse.

”So much for getting the job done without much effort,” Harry sighed. He struck back and tried to turn the
Imperius back on Mafalda. The pain decreased as though both Harry and Mafalda had taken a step back to
reposition for the next attack.

”Harry Potter, I don't know how you did this, but I must say that I’m impressed. You are a worthy opponent,”
Mafalda spoke to his mind.

Harry didn't want to waste focus or power on idle chatter. He wanted to break Mafalda’s defenses and learn
whatever he could, or if possible take control over Mafalda altogether. He pushed again and he could feel
Mafalda buckle under his pressure. She had underestimated his strength and sending her message to him
opened up a small window of opportunity. However, the pain returned. Somewhere Harry was aware that Draco
felt that pain too. He could only hope he had pushed Mafalda to her limits, too. He couldn't let go now, he was so

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close. Suddenly Mafalda surprised him, letting all her walls down. Overwhelmed, Harry fell without control into
Mafalda's mind.

Ginny was listening to Transfiguration lecture when she suddenly felt Harry's mind disappear. She was so used
to being aware of his presence and general state of mind. The intensity would fade in and out, but he’d never
completely disappeared from her. It left and empty ache that chilled her soul. ”Harry,” she screamed,
interrupting Professor Bones’ lecture, and then everything went black.

Draco was aware of what was happening outside his wall. He felt a jerk when Harry fell. He could see Mafalda
raise her defenses again, trapping Harry in her mind. That can’t be good. From outside the office, he could hear
screams of panic as the Fiendfyre began to rage through the corridor. They hadn't called that off.

Harry felt like he was locked up in a dark room. “You are trapped in my mind, Harry.” Mafalda's voice called to
him, dripping with venom. Fear was poison. Harry knew that, but his situation was far from good. He wasn't
keen on staying locked inside Mafalda's mind. He gathered all his strength and struck, but Mafalda's walls held.

Professor Bones gasped as Ginny fell to the floor, seemingly lifeless. She flew to her side in an instant. ”Madame
Pomfrey! Go! Bring Madame Pomfrey,” she shouted with desperation in her voice. Two of Ginny’s classmates
hurried out the door and made for the hospital wing at a sprint.

Madame Pomfrey arrived quickly and examined Ginny. She shook her head. ”She appears to be dead,” Madame
Pomfrey declared. Professor Bones and the other students froze in horror, as though they’d been petrified.

Draco watched as the battle raged behind Mafalda's defenses. He realised Harry's dilemma and made his choice.
Draco cast off the Imperius and with his fake awareness gone, he launched himself into the battle, throwing all
his mindpower against Mafalda’s walls. He struck from the outside as Harry fought her from within.

Mafalda was taken by complete surprise from the forceful attack on two fronts. She lost control and Harry's mind
broke free. Her mental walls seemed to dissolve in a tornado and in the whirlwind, a mess of pictures and
memories flew around. Harry gathered as much as he could before retreating to safety.

Harry and Draco fell to the floor, panting and gasping for breath, the sweat pouring off them as they lay there.
Astoria flew out of her chair in a mild panic, rushing to Draco’s side first and then Harry’s. Harry looked at them
as he caught his breath and picked himself off the floor. He offered Draco a hand up and pulled him to his feet.

Astoria breathed a heavy sigh of relief as Draco took her in his arms. ”I’m all right, Stori. Don’t cry,” he
whispered as she sobbed into his chest. He kissed the top of her head and ran his hands up and down her back.
”Potter? You all right?”

Awareness returned to reality. Harry felt like he’d been trampled by a herd of hippogriffs, but he felt fine. ”I’m
good. You?”

”I’m good.”

Ginny’s eyes fluttered open. Her head felt heavy and fuzzy and there was a buzzing sound around her. She
couldn’t quite make out the blurry shapes above her, but after a few seconds, her vision cleared. Madame
Pomfrey was kneeling beside her, with Professor Bones and her classmates looking on in horror.

”What,” Ginny asked with a weak voice. ”What am I doing on the floor?”

Madame Pomfrey gave her a surprised look and began to re-examine her. ”I don't know what happened,”
Madame Pomfrey said. ”Professor Bones tells me you screamed for Mr Potter and then fell to the floor
unconscious.”

Ginny recalled the empty ache she felt before everything went black. Harry. She focused her mind on Harry and
could feel him again. He was there. What had happened? He was gone, and then back again. He better have a
really good explanation for causing her to black out during class. Still and all, she couldn't help sending him a
massive wave of love and relief. Whatever happened to him, I’m sure he needed that.

Harry felt Ginny's emotions add more strength to him, quieting his shaking body. He returned the favour with a
smile in his heart as Gryffindor’s lion began to stir. Coming to his senses, he looked at Draco again, studying his

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expression as he recalled the battle of minds. Draco had most likely saved his life—or at least his sanity. If he
hadn’t been able to escape Mafalda's mind trap, she could have killed him or tortured him until he was lost in his
own delusions, never again to recognise anyone or anything from his life.

Draco looked back at him with raised eyebrows. ”Was it worth it?” Astoria had calmed down, but still sat next to
him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Harry became aware of the pieces from Mafalda's mind he brought back. ”I think so. I need a few minutes to sort
this out. Did you get anything?”

Draco nodded. They began to compare mental notes, and after sorting through the images they’d collected, both
Harry and Draco were able to discern a couple of locations. Harry sent his stag Patronus to his superior’s office.
”Arthur! Come quickly! My office! We’ve got something,” Harry’s voice said urgently.

Arthur arrived after only a few minutes, just as Harry and Draco had completed a list on a sheet of parchment.

”What’s the situation, Arthur,” Harry asked his breathless surrogate father.

”Chaotic. It seemed the Fiendfyre was the signal for an attack. The attackers, mostly former Snatchers Mafalda
hired, were taken into custody immediately. Kingsley extinguished the curse before anyone was hurt, but not
before an all-out panic had spread and a few Snatchers got away. We have Squads searching the Ministry floor
by floor. Thank goodness no one was killed, but we had to send a number of employees to St Mungo's with
scrapes and minor burns.”

”We managed to get a few locations from Mafalda's mind. We must send everything we have to those locations. I
fear today’s events have set her plan in motion.”

Arthur took the parchment and with a flick of his wand and a muttered Geminio, he made several copies.

”Arthur, have your Squads report any problems to Auror Thompson. He and his team are standing by in the
inner office. We’ll co-ordinate a strike force and move in. Make sure the Squad leaders understand that they are
not to challenge Mafalda. Just have them put up wards to detain her. We'll need a precisely-executed Auror
attack to bring her down,” Harry instructed him. ”Also, tell them to Stupefy any Muggles in the hands of her
DEs, and bring them in too. We'll worry about modifying their memories later. Our objective today is to surround
Mafalda and bring her and her plot down once and for all.”

Arthur nodded and hurried away. Still feeling a bit weak, Harry withdrew into the inner offices to brief his
Aurors. ”Friends, you’re the best of the best and you are hereby on alert—all of you. It appears we’re about to
corner Miss Mafalda Prewett and her people. Law Enforcement Squads have been deployed to target locations
now. When the time is right, we move in. Any questions? Good.”

Harry instructed his Aurors as to what each of their responsibilities would be for this mission and how they were
to go about fulfilling them. This was a very dangerous operation and would require precise movements with no
deviation from orders. ”Unless lives are in danger, civilian or otherwise, I want her brought in alive.
Understood?”

Mafalda blasted every piece of furniture in her room with spells and curses. Draco Malfoy had deceived her. She
had Imperiused him. What had gone wrong? Even worse, her plan was already set in motion, there was no way
of stopping it now. Would it succeed? How much vital information did Draco and Harry steal? She decided what
course of action to take and Disapparated. All she needed to do was stay out of sight for a few hours. Even if her
men failed, she would succeed by herself.

The Aurors waited on pins and needles for their call. This was it. They were taking Mafalda Prewett and her
henchmen down once and for all. Their Chief had taken great pains to plan this just right so as to avoid any
harm to the thousands of Muggles gathered at their target destination. They all knew there was fighting going
on, and all the waiting had them on a controlled edge. But they knew why they had been held back. They were
the cream of the crop, the elite.

Harry held them back so as to send them in full-force rather than have them spread out all over the country
assisting the Squads. They couldn’t help thinking that lives might be lost, but many more would be saved. But if
Mafalda's plan succeeded, there would be no quality of life for anyone.

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”Blimey this is frustrating,” Seamus bouncing his legs.


”I know, Love,” Lavender said quietly, taking his hand. ”But we have to be patient. This is what Harry trained us
for. You heard what he said.”

The others looked on with snickers and amused smirks. There had been talk that Irish and LB had something
going on, but never breached the subject with either of them. However, what they saw going on right then
confirmed all the rumours and speculation. Finnegan and Brown were an item.

”What? Can't a man hold his ruddy girlfriend's hand,” Seamus asked incredulously, his dark eyes flashing.

”Let the laddie be, ye bloody tosserrs,” Jock boomed. ”Auror Brown’s a right bonny lassie and Finnegan’s a
damned lucky man, says I!” He winked at the scrappy Irishman and his girlfriend, raising his cuppa to them. The
other Aurors shrugged and snickered again as they returned to their nervous chatter.

”So, you and Lavender,” Harry asked, thinking about the first meeting of the DA class at Hogwarts where
Seamus supported Lavender with an arm around her waist. She had been badly busted up at the Battle of
Hogwarts and was still a patient at St Mungo’s. The more he thought about it, Harry recalled them having
attended the Yule Ball together in fourth year.

”Yeah, mate. It has kind of just happened,” Seamus confessed, slightly embarrassed. ”And then after that last
mission, well...” He winked at Lavender and gave her peck on the cheek. Their cohorts wolf-whistled and made
cat-calls at them.

”You're a true romantic,” Lavender cooed with a hint of playful sarcasm.

Moments later, a Patronus appeared. ”Three DEs trapped with a Muggle hostage! Baker Squad needs
assistance.”

Harry reviewed the list of Squads. ”Terry. You, Tony, and Sue, go! Remember. Just stun them if possible. And
don't forget to protect that Muggle.” Harry tossed them a Portkey to Baker Squad's position.

Harry couldn’t help his nervous pacing as he sent three of his friends out to assist Baker Squad. The last mission
had put Hermione in her current condition and two previous ones cost lives. Now Boot, Goldstein, and Bones
were off to fight those three Death Eaters and rescue their Muggle hostage. They were certainly at the top of
their game, having had more intense training that afforded them uncanny co-ordination. But all it would take
would be a stray curse, or a moment’s hesitation and lives could be lost.

Harry carried the weight of full command, knowing the risks to his people in a fight. And like a great
commander, he valued every life and took none of his responsibility to them lightly. These people were his
friends and he loved them all. Years later, legend would declare Harry Potter’s incredible power and capacity to
love as his greatest attribute.

”Don't worry, Harry. They know and accept the dangers. We all do, and so did Hermione...” Seamus assured him
as if he could read his Chief’s mind. It wasn’t so much that Seamus could read his mind, but that he could read
Harry. Seamus had bunked with the man for the better part of six years at Hogwarts, attended classes with him,
watched him, and studied and trained intensely with him over the past eight months. ”They’ll be mighty, as me
granddad used ta say.”

”Thanks, Irish. That means a lot to me, mate,” Harry said, bumping fists with his scrappy friend.

More calls for assistance came in over the next few hours until the only ones left in the office were Harry, Cho,
and John Dawlish. They were startled as Susan Bones rushed into the office with a horror on her face.

”Okay, Sue,” Harry said ushering her to a chair. ”Catch your breath and tell me what happened. Cho, get her
some water.”

”Terry took the Muggle and Tony to St Mungo's,” she reported, gulping for air. Cho handed her a cup of water
and she drank it eagerly. She handed the cup back to Cho who made to refill it. ”The Muggle’s unharmed, but
will need his memory modified.” Cho handed her the cup again and Susan drank. ”Tony took a stunner and
wanted his ribs checked. However, Baker Squad... they were under attack when we arrived. Two of them went

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down to the killing curse before we could mount our counter-attack. After that things turned our way, though.”
Susan took another gulp of water.

”The rest of us spent the last hour clearing the curses the DEs had placed on their hiding place and reporting to
the Muggleworthy Excuse Office. The DEs are in the hands of Law Enforcement as we speak.”

Harry was pleased with Susan’s report and with the relative success of Baker Squad’s efforts, but he was not
pleased that two more lives had been snuffed out by Death Eaters. It hurt Harry badly, but he remembered what
Arthur and Ginny had reminded him about the possibility of dying in the line of duty came with the job. It could
have been worse, Chief. Hang in there.

”Thanks, Bonesy. You did good today,” Harry replied. ”Hit the showers, then fill out your official report. I think
I’m going to have some food brought in. Kreacher!”
Crack! John and Cho jumped as a little old House-elf appeared in their midst. ”Yes, Harry. Kreacher has heard
your call and he comes.”

”Hello, Kreacher,” Harry said. ”Could I ask a favour of you?”

”Harry Potter needs only to ask and Kreacher does,” the elf said in his scratchy voice. ”What can Kreacher do for
you?”

”We need food—and a lot of it. I have hungry Aurors and Law Enforcement Squads in the field and they’re
beginning to report in.”

Kreacher raised a long bony finger to his brow and tapped it with a smile. ”Kreacher is knowing just the thing for
hungry Aurors and Squads.” The elf bowed and disappeared with a crack! before Harry could say another word.

”What the hell was that,” John asked in amazement. ”Was that a House-elf? Since when did you own a
House-elf?”
”Kreacher is a House-elf, and I do own him, but I don’t treat him like a slave. He’s been a real friend and there’s
nothing he won’t do for me,” Harry explained. I inherited him with the Black estates after Sirius was killed. I
wanted to free the old boy, but that would have broken his heart, so...yes, I have a House-elf.”

”Bloody hell, Chief. You’re full of surprises aren’t you?” Dawlish stared at his shoes as he shook his head. ”Never
a dull moment, hey Harry?”

”You have no idea, JD. You have no idea,” Harry replied with a twinkle in his emerald eyes.
Crack! Harry, John, and Cho jumped again as Kreacher re-appeared. ”Where would Harry Potter like Kreacher to
serve the food,” he asked.

”Um...well, we have several tables in here. Why not just distribute it amongst them and then replenish as
needed,” Harry suggested.

”Of course,” Kreacher agreed. ”Harry Potter is very wise.” Kreacher snapped his long fingers again and plates of
sandwiches, packets of crisps, bottles of Butterbeer, and tins of biscuits appeared on each of the tables.

Just then, Susan emerged from the locker room, clean and prepared to write her report. ”Where did all this
come from,” she asked in wide-eyed surprise.

”Harry’s House-elf brought it, Sue,” Cho replied. ”We were just about to indulge. Join us, then?”

”I’m starved. Thanks, Harry,” Susan said brightly as she slid in to a chair at their table. ”I didn’t know you
owned a House-elf.”

Harry sighed, ready to explain again. ”I don’t own a House-elf, I have a House-elf. I inherited him. He’s a friend,
not a slave.”

Susan began to giggle. ”Um...is Hermione aware of this?” Susan remembered Hermione’s obsession with the
rights of house-elves when she tried to sell her a SPEW badge in fourth year.

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Harry laughed, knowing what Susan was thinking about. ”Yes, she’s aware of it. She doesn’t like it, but she also
understands that if I freed Kreacher, it would kill him, so she let me off the hook.”

After another thirty minutes of nervous waiting, Terry and Tony returned too. Tony had taken quite a beating
from the stunner and would be sore for a few days, but his ribs were all right.

”So what’s with all the food,” Terry asked, taking a sandwich from one of the trays. ”What?”

Harry, Cho, John, and Susan had broken into laughter because Harry was going to have to tell the story again.
”The short version, okay? I inherited a House-elf named Kreacher. He’s not a slave, he’s a friend. I called on him
for a favour and here it is.”

”Okay. Thanks...uh...Kreacher...wherever you are,” Terry said as he uncorked a Butterbeer.


”Any word on Hermione,” Tony asked as he bit into his sandwich. ”What about Ron? Is he with her?”

”Hermione’s still unconscious. They don’t want to wake until they think it’s safe. Ron and her parents are with
her,” Harry said. ”She took a blast to the head in that explosion. They’re not sure if there’ll be permanent
damage or not.” No brooding, Potter. Remember, it’s not your fault.

”Can she have visitors,” Susan asked.

”Yes, but I wouldn’t advise it,” Harry replied. ”Ron’s taking this pretty hard and the family’s close by, but I’ll be
sure to keep you all posted. If we can finish up this mission at a decent hour, I plan on dropping in to check on
them. Ron won’t leave her side.”

”We’ll keep her in our thoughts, Harry. We know how much you care about her,” Cho said sympathetically.

”She’s like a sister to me, you know?” Harry blinked back hot tears that stung his eyes. ”Excuse me. Loo,” he
choked as he strode off toward the locker rooms.

Reports began to filter in from Delta, Fox and George Squads as Aurors and Squad Troopers alike shuffled in,
exhausted from their days’ work. They all welcomed a hot shower and a bite to eat as they wrote their reports.
The Aurors proved to be more than efficient and saved many Law Enforcers' lives. Seamus returned to the Auror
Office freshly healed and smelling of that disgusting Potion for cursed wounds.

”Seamus Finnegan, you’re a magnet for that ruddy curse,” Lavender complained. ”I'm not snogging you today.
That stuff reeks!”

Seamus had taken a Sectumsempra to his chest again, and apart from a blood replenishing potion and a charm
to heal the wound, he had to take another potion to continue the healing of that cursed injury. That potion had
a notoriously disgusting smell. ”We got the job done,” Seamus replied, munching on crisps. ”I'll be like new in a
few days.”

Harry smiled to himself. Seamus was a scrappy bastard and a damned good fighter. Harry valued his leadership
qualities and was proud to have the fun-loving Irishman on his team. Knowing Seamus as he did, Harry didn’t
doubt that if the smell of the potion wouldn't have been a dead giveaway, the git would probably have insisted
on returning to the fight. Seamus Finnegan seemed to thrive in the heat of battle.

By four o'clock, it seemed as though the Ministry had won a overwhelming victory over Mafalda’s Death Eaters.
The list provided actual locations where Muggles were to be kidnapped from or taken to for execution. Squads
that reported in latest had a difficult time securing their target locations because they were public places
crawling with loads of Muggles. Secrecy had been maintained, but the Muggleworthy Excuse Office had an
overwhelming workload ahead of them.

Harry relaxed a little when he received an owl from Ginny.


Love,
What happened today? I lost our connection and fell to the floor and then appeared to be dead for a few minutes,
according to Madame Pomfrey. She released me from the hospital wing a few minutes ago, so I wrote you
immediately. I know you have a job to do and I want you to know I’m very proud of you. I love you and I hope
you can feel that I'm thinking of you.
All my love,

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Ginny

Harry gasped. If must have been when he fell into Mafalda's mind. It must have overwhelmed his and Ginny's
connection. He thought of her and could feel her love and support. Harry owled a short message about the
events and promised to tell her in greater detail when he got back.
My Love,
I’ll explain what happened to me today when I fell into Mafalda’s mind. I expect your collapse had something to
do with that. Don’t worry. I’m fine and I can feel your love. I’m sending mine right now. I’m going to stop by St
Mungo’s to check on Ron and Hermione and then I’ll fly straight to you. I love you.
Yours forever,
Harry

With all the Aurors and Squad Troopers showered, fed, and accounted for, Harry began the debriefing meeting.
”Break into your squads and teams. We’re going to check the list and compare it to the places we took action
today.”

Chairs scraped the floor and bottles clanked as Aurors an Squad Troopers re-assembled with their teams and
squads. There was a quiet buzz of discussion as they compared one another’s reports and turned their results
over to Thompson, who had all but become their spokesman.

”Chief Potter, sirr,” Jock called. ”We’ve been able tae accoont fer all but one on the list!”

” Which one, Jock?”

”Anfield, sirr!”

”What's Anfield,” Seamus asked, scratching his head.

Harry closed his eyes and sifted through the stolen memories. ”Damn! It's a Muggle sports arena in Liverpool!
Cho, Irish, LB—let’s go,” Harry called, grabbing a Portkey. ”You lot sit tight. We’ll call you if and when we need
you!”

They landed near the arena to the sounds of a cheering crowd. ”Bloody hell! There’s a ruddy match in there
today. If Mafalda is here with thousands of Muggles, she can do a lot of damage. I’m calling in the others and
any available LE Squads.”
Harry sent a Patronus to the Auror Office and another to Arthur Weasley requesting Squads and the Aurors to
surround and invade Anfield to look for Mafalda. The group of four average-looking teens approached the
entrance.

”Shit, Harry, we'll need Muggle money to get in here,” Seamus hissed.

An official mission to protect the Secrecy Act authorized the use of magic against Muggles, so Harry cast a
Confundus charm at the entrance and they all walked through unmolested. Harry about choked when they
entered the arena. There were almost 45,000 Muggles gathered to watch the game. On a big screen, Harry
immediately spied the player in shirt number seven.

”Look, Cho” he said as he pointed to the Jumbo-tron. ”That's Beckham. He’s the one we pulled out of that house
the day Williamson was killed.”

”How in the name of Merlin's discoloured laundry are we going to find a single female here,” Seamus asked,
running his hands through his hair. He usually wore it close-cropped, but he rather liked Harry’s wilder ponytail
style and Ron’s shaggy over-the-eyes look, so he decided to let his sandy locks grow out too. Another motivating
factor for avoiding the barbers was that Lavender had told him on several intimate occasions that she thought it
made him look sexier.

Before anyone answered him parts of the crowd exploded into deafening cheers. Apparently Beckham's team
scored. ”I'm not sure I understand this game,” Cho began, ”but it seems they have been playing for twenty-two
minutes and this is their first goal. What a dull game! If we wouldn't score for twenty-two minutes during a
Quidditch match, the crowd would curse us off the pitch, yeah?” They all agreed. But the game seemed to be
very popular among the Muggles.

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”Liverpool playin’ Manchester United, huh? All I know about this game is that Dean supports West Ham...”
Seamus commented. ”But we won’t find the little chit standin’ around here gawkin’ will we?”

They agreed that Mafalda would probably be targeting one of the players, very likely Beckham. They thought
she might be lurking closer to the pitch, rather than hiding high up in the stands. Seamus and Lavender
deployed the arriving Aurors and Squads in a search pattern, while Harry and Cho began their own search. The
search gave up nothing, but after a while, there was a break in the match. Spectators left their seats to visit the
lavatory or get something to eat and drink.

”Maybe Mafalda’s seen us or some of the other teams and already left,” Cho suggested hopefully as the match
resumed.

”I don't think so.” Harry tried to think. If I were a fifteen-year-old Death Eater with designs on kidnapping a
famous football player right under everyone’s noses, where would I hide?

Cho had been partially correct. Mafalda had spotted the Wizarding authorities searching the stadium. She
thought about her options. Potter’s people had very likely put up anti-Apparition charms, so she didn't dare try
that because it would set off the wards. She could still carry out her plan, but she would not escape if she did.
On the other hand, the Ministry had every exit covered. Would she get away even if she didn't carry out her
plan? Not jolly likely. What had she to lose? She’d be captured, but the damage would be done.

Harry felt sure it was the football pitch itself that needed the wards, rather than the entire arena. The match
was coming up on a full hour when it suddenly happened. Mafalda Apparated onto the pitch and 45,000 Muggles
gasped in surprise. Harry acted out of desperation and pulled out the Elder wand. This was certainly a time to
disregard his personal secrecy and think of that of his world. All eyes had locked on Mafalda anyway.

Harry cast an anti-Muggle charm with all the might he could muster from his love for Ginny and the power
within the Elder wand. The result proved far beyond anything he could imagine. Within the wards already in
place, all the Muggles were collectively Confunded, thinking about their summer holidays, how to celebrate
today's win or loss, or the report they had to finish at work the coming week, among other mundane things. He
knew he had only a few moments to act.

”Bring in the Muggleworthy Excuse people. I'm going after Mafalda,” Harry told Cho as he sprinted toward the
cloaked figure on the field. He dropped the Anti-apparition charm so he could Apparate outside the stadium. He
Apparated to a spot behind Mafalda, grabbed her and Disapparated.

Cho Apparated to the entrance and quickly grabbed a worker from the Muggleworthy Excuse Office. ”All right,
let's handle this mess... 45,000... that's got to be a department record...” he said with a Cheshire grin.

The anti-Muggle charm had effectively blacked out all Muggle electronics. The Muggleworthy Excuse Office
people knew they had to have everyone's attention focused on the game when they dropped the wards. That
way, no one would notice anything odd. They placed the players and hit one of them with a Jelly Leg jinx. After
that, they retreated and dropped the wards.

The spectators' minds suddenly returned to the match, and the first thing that happened on the pitch was a
Manchester United player falling in the penalty area. The referee was slightly confused and blew his whistle for a
penalty kick. The Wizarding teams left Anfield as the match announcer declared that a Denis Irwin had scored.
The team scored only two goals in fifty-seven minutes. What a drag. Cho was shaken from her reverie when
Seamus tapped her on the shoulder.

”What about Harry,” Seamus asked.

”He...he never told me where he would take her,” Cho replied.

”Blimey, Harry’s facing down Mafalda all alone,” Lavender asked with a tremble in her voice.

”Nah, it’s more like Mafalda’s facing down Harry Potter all alone,” Seamus chuckled and winked.

Ginny picked at her supper in the Great Hall as she felt Harry’s emotions consisting of mixed jolts of joy and
worry.

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”Come, Gin.” She heard his voice in her head and saw an image as his love surged through her.

She rose up and approached Professor McGonagall at the staff table. ”I'll need to leave the grounds, Professor.”

The headmistress simply nodded. She knew Ginny wouldn't say something like that without good reason.

Harry ended up in the first place he had thought of—a place he would be out of sight, Little Hangleton
graveyard. Exactly why he Apparated there he wasn’t completely sure. Maybe he considered it the place it all
had begun and now he could hopefully put Tom Riddle and his reign of terror to rest.

Mafalda had broken free and turned to him with her wand drawn. ”Potter, I never intended to kill you, but I will
have to change my mind on that.”

”Give it up, Mafalda. You’ve failed. As we speak, the Muggleworthy Excuse Office are handling the situation at
Anfield. It’s over.”

”I will fight you until one of us is dead, and unless you defend yourself, it will be a very short fight,” Mafalda
threatened.

”I don't want to fight you, Mafalda,” Harry said. ”Your lot never learns, do you?”

Mafalda hesitated for a moment. ”My lot never learns what?”

”Why Severus Snape was loyal to Professor Dumbledore...why you never had Malfoy's loyalty.”

”Malfoy was weak, too weak,” the girl spat.

”Quite the opposite, Mafalda,” Harry sighed.

”Stupefy,” Mafalda hissed in anger.

”Protego,” Harry countered in a conversational tone.

Soon they were engaged in a fierce duel. Curses, counter-curses and charms flew and were dodged. Harry
fought calmly. He could feel Ginny's love surrounding him, and all he needed to do was beware the
Unforgivables. Try as she might, Mafalda could not penetrate Harry’s shields. Mafalda fought with all the anger
and hatred she could muster. Those emotions surged and grew inside her as her spells repeatedly ricocheted off
his defenses.

After what might have been a few minutes or several hours, Harry relaxed. Mafalda misinterpreted it as a sign
of exhaustion. ”You are weakening, Potter. Give up and I’ll spare your life. I must admit I haven't ever duelled a
better opponent.”

Harry simply smiled, which confused Mafalda even more. ”It is over now, Mafalda.”

”Stupefy,” a second voice spoke and Mafalda crumpled to the ground.

Harry's eyes met Ginny's. They lowered their wands and smiled lovingly at one another. Ginny ran to him and
leapt into his waiting arms. ”Death Eaters just don't understand love,” Harry said, claiming her lips in one of his
patented mind-blowing kisses.

”I heard you,” Ginny said with a bemused smile. Her head spun when he kissed her like that. She found herself
bereft and wanting more.

”I know you did,” Harry replied. ”Shall we deposit your dear third cousin into a cosy holding cell?”

Harry and Ginny returned to a battered Ministry building. Harry and Ginny had Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron
and Flooed into the Atrium from there. The panic and the destruction the much-controlled Fiendfyre had caused
could have been disastrous, but inflicted only minor damage. But Kingsley's hard work reforming the Ministry
had paid off.

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Ministry workers, reporters, and curiosity-seekers crowded the Atrium. When Harry and Ginny arrived with their
stunned prisoner the entire atrium fell silent. All eyes locked on the Head Auror, his fiancée, and the mad
teenager who’d set out to rule their world. The crowd parted, making an open path to the lifts, with cameras
flashing nearly every step of the way. Once inside the lift car, they pressed the button that would take them to
the Auror Office, little parchment airplanes and all.

Upon arrival at the office, they were met with cheers and applause by Harry’s entire team of Aurors, Arthur
Weasley, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. ”Well done, Chief Potter! Well done!”

”I only wish Ron and Hermione could be here,” Harry whispered to Ginny.
Even now, in his time of triumph, he thinks of others before himself. Ginny had many reasons for loving Harry
Potter, but his kind generosity was one of the primary ones. She gazed into his eyes and sent a wave of desire
through their bond.

He sucked in a breath and left a lingering kiss at her temple. Maybe tonight, my love.

Mafalda was taken into custody and processed while Harry briefed his Aurors. As they prepared to leave, Ginny
took his arm, but Kingsley moved to stop them. ”Harry, we have to face the press. They are asking questions
about the fire and evacuation here. They want to know about your prisoner.”

Harry sighed and took Ginny’s face in his hands. ”Sorry, Love. I have to do this.”

”I know, Harry. It’s part of the job, remember?” Ginny gave him a kiss and released his arm. I’ll be right here.”

”Let's get it over with,” Harry allowed and followed Arthur, an Enforcer, and the Minister to a makeshift dais to
face the press.

The first question was about the events of the day, about which Kingsley gave a brief summary. ”Most important
is that the last of Tom Riddle's Death Eaters now are imprisoned, and or awaiting trial,” he concluded.

”What about that fire? And the rumours about battles around the country. Any losses?”

”We had every Law Enforcement Squad Trooper and Auror on alert. Despite numerous duels, casualties are
minimal. There were, to my knowledge, three killed and several requiring treatment at St Mungo's,” Arthur
declared.

”Three killed? I only knew of two from Baker,” Harry whispered to Arthur.

”One from Alpha died about an hour ago. He was a mess, Harry. They got him before your people arrived.”

”Damn,” Harry cursed, trying to keep his cool. I thought the ruddy war was over.

The Law Enforcer took over. ”The reason we didn't lose more people is down to the Aurors. They came in teams
of three. I have never seen wizards or witches fight like that. If I hadn't known for sure, I'd say there were at
least ten of them on each team.”

This account shifted focus to Harry, and a statement about the Aurors. ”We have worked hard to improve on
what we learned as Dumbledore's Army,” he said. ”We have lived and trained together all this year at Hogwarts,
and we are all close friends. Our strength lies in that there's no one in the group who would hesitate to take the
full blast of a curse to shield a friend. We don't let our comrades down.”

Harry had to answer more questions about the Aurors’ performance until Kingsley finally summed it all up. ”The
last remnants of Tom Riddle's hordes were brought to justice today. It's been a year-long struggle, and a huge
group effort involving several Departments. We will have more details as reports are completed and compiled.
Thank you.”

Cameras flashed and reporters shouted more questions as the four men stepped down from the dais and
disappeared into the Minister’s office. When the clatter died down, Harry left with Arthur and Ginny for the
Burrow, where Molly fed them a very well-deserved supper. Harry was too exhausted to stay awake afterwards
and crashed into Ginny's bed. She was disappointed that there would be no snogging or other activity tonight,
but she cuddled up next to him anyway. She understood what he’d been through that day and didn’t begrudge

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him on wink of sleep.

The next few days passed quickly with a heavy workload. Harry had to work on his report and speak to the press
on a daily basis. Accounts of the Aurors’ prowess in a duel sold out copy after copy of every magazine and
newspaper. He and Ginny also visited St Mungo's every day to check on Ron and Hermione. The joy from
defeating Mafalda was dampened by Hermione’s unchanged condition.

Ron was a wreck. He barely slept, subsisting on coffee and whatever food Molly brought to him. The Healers,
primarily Leo Wyatt, had become quite concerned with his health, but they couldn’t budge him. By the ninth of
May, he had practically lived in that chair for a week. The Healers had disregarded every rule about visiting
hours and regulations, and even offered him a bed, hoping to at least get him to rest, but Ron had refused. He
believed he deserved the discomfort of that hard chair because he had been such a git, not realising his feelings
for Hermione sooner.

”They’re going to wake her up today,” Ron said hoarsely. ”They have no ruddy way of knowing if that’s a good or
bad thing to do.”

”What do you think about it,” Harry asked.

”I... I just want her back, Harry. I c-can’t... I won’t live without her,” Ron croaked, his eyes filling with tears. His
emotions were bottled up and now he sprang a leak. That's when the Healers arrived, and he snapped. ”Don’t
you dare touch her,” Ron yelled, drawing himself up to his full height. Even in his exhausted state, he managed
to sum up the energy to intimidate an entire team of Healers. ”You might cause more damage than you can
heal.”

The Healers hesitated because of Ron's raging anger. Leo stepped forward and took hold of Ron’s forearm. ”We
can't keep her like this much longer, Ron.”

”I don't care... I don't care... I can't lose her,” Ron cried and threw himself back down onto his chair, breathing
heavily as he shook with rage.

Harry had never seen Ron like this, but he also trusted that the Healers really meant that the wisest course of
action was to revive her. He took hold of Ron’s shoulders and looked into his eyes. It was heartbreaking. His
best friend had been eaten alive by fear, agony, anger... Harry could only hope he could reach through all that.
”Ron, do you trust me?”

Ron’s eyes looked empty, but he listened to Harry's words, as if he heard from a distance.

”Do you trust me,” Harry asked again, shaking him.

Everyone in the room was amazed to see the raging lunatic calm down. Ginny could feel Harry being so calm,
despite feeling very worried. Ron nodded once, and then again as if he had to convince himself that he did trust
Harry.

”Harry,” Ron said in a shaky voice, ”I trust you. Of course I do.”

”Then follow the Healers out,” Harry ordered and then turned to Leo. ”Take him outside and calm him down.
Knock him out if you have to. This has got to stop right now.”

The Healers didn't quite know what to do, since they weren't used to taking orders from visitors. But his
authority and leadership qualities worked like a charm, affecting them all. This was not just a visitor; this was
Harry Potter, war hero and Head of the Auror Office.

Reluctantly, Ron left the room, looking over his shoulder. He stopped at the door. ”Only for a minute, right?”
Tears streamed down the tall man’s face, his eyes like those of a child awakened from a nightmare.

”Yes, only for a minute. I promise,” Harry confirmed.

Once he and Ginny were alone in the room, Ginny looked up at him. ”What's your plan, Harry?”

”I know I can wake her up,” Harry said. ”Please send me all your love now. I need it, for Hermione's sake.”

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He drew the Elder wand for the second time this week. He had to consider the temptation of just having it in his
possession, but right now he wanted to use it. He closed his eyes and concentrated on Ginny's love for him and
for Hermione. He focused that love onto his friend and sister, then cast a Healing spell. Harry hadn't cast many,
but he felt a warmth leaving his arm through the Elder Wand. Immediately, Hermione seemed to regain some
colour. He glanced at his lovely Ginny, encouraged by her smile. Then returned his focus to Hermione.
”Ennervate.”

A slow shudder passed through Hermione's body.

”I think she'll be coming round in a minute. Let's get Ron back inside now,” Harry said tucking the Elder wand
back into his robes.

Ginny opened the door with a flick of her wand and Ron stepped back inside, hurrying to Hermione’s side. He
gazed at Hermione, then looked at Harry and Ginny, and then back at Hermione again. He was considerably
calmer, but still very emotional.

Slowly, Hermione's eyes fluttered open and fixed on Ron. She smiled. ”Ron,” she whispered. Then turned her
eyes to Harry and Ginny. ”My dearest friends.”

”We'll give you a moment, all right,” Ginny said nudging Harry toward the door. ”We’ll be right outside.”

Ron nodded but had eyes only for his fiancée. Harry left the room with Ginny, meeting a very puzzled group of
Healers. ”She's waking up now.”

”What did you do, Harry,” Leo asked, staring at the door to Hermione’s room.

”Magic,” he shrugged. ”Please give them a moment before you examine her. They need to get re-acquainted.”
Harry's request sounded more like a suggestion, but no one questioned it.

”My 'Mione. My sweet, sweet ’Mione. You came back to me,” Ron sobbed as he kissed her hand over and over
again. ” I've been so worried. I was afraid that... that...” He had to fight back the urge to scoop her up in his
arms and squeeze the stuffing out of her. He wanted to bathe her face in kisses and never let go. But out of
concern that he might hurt her and set her back, he controlled himself until the Healers could examine her.

”I... I could hear you, everything you said, but...” Tears began to leak and fall into her pillow. ”I tried to answer
you, I wanted to touch you and look into your eyes, but I couldn’t... I couldn’t...”

”Shhh, Love...” Ron said, caressing her brow and wiping her tears away with a tissue from her bedside table.
”You heard everything?”

”Y-yes. Your…your…prayer,” she sniffed. ”It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. I love you so much,
Ronald. I-I don’t know how to say it. I... your prayer... it...” She began to sob. He scooted the chair closer to her
bed so he could lay his upper half next to her on the bed and slip his arm under her shoulders to hold her as she
wept.

”I meant every word, ’Mione. I was so afraid you were going to leave me. I... I couldn’t live without you. You’re
my whole world. I owe everything I am to you,” he confessed, burying his face in her neck.

Ron and Hermione lay there for several minutes holding on to one another, whispering their love for each other
as they calmed one another’s fears.

”Ron?”

”Yes, Love.”

”What happened?”

Ron raised his shaggy head and told her about the fight, the explosion, and the week. ”I've missed a week's
worth of classes,” Hermione moaned.

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Ron relaxed. This was his Hermione and she was back, whole and healthy. Having her brain all but blasted into
oblivion requiring advanced potion treatment didn’t matter a whit. Her studies were the foremost thing in her
mind. He chuckled. ”Now I know you’re all right.”

Hermione’s eyes opened wide as she got her first really good look at him. ”Ron, you look bloody awful,”
Hermione said, looking around the room. Her eyes settled on the lonely chair by her bedside. ”You didn't...spend
the week here? On that chair?”

Ron nodded with a blush. ”I rarely left your side. I wouldn’t have at all, except... well, you know.”

”You, Ronald Bilius Weasley, are the most thick-headed and stubborn wizard I know,” she cried as her eyes filled
with tears, overwhelmed by the love and devotion Ron demonstrated. ”And I love you!”

”I know” Ron said. ”But I... I just couldn't leave you here all alone.” He leaned in and kissed her softly, wanting
more, but not daring to press her. He continued to hold her hand to his face as he kissed and massaged it.

He had a week’s worth of ginger growth on his face and looked rather scruffy, but Hermione didn’t mind. All that
mattered to her was that this handsome rogue holding her hand loved her so much that he kept a constant vigil
at her bedside, protecting her at the expense of his own comfort.

As they broke apart, Hermione looked at him again. ”Were Harry and Ginny here, or was that my imagination?”

”They’re right outside with a mob of Healers. Your parents are here too, but they left to get something to eat
just a while ago.”

”Harry... he did something. Did he wake me up?”

”Yes, but I don’t know how. All I know is that I went spare because the Healers were going to, but somehow
Harry managed to run me and the Healers out of your room,” Ron explained. ”Only Ginny stayed.”
”I want to see them, Ron. Please let them in,” she said, trying to sit up.

”Okay, but you stay down until the Healers have a look at you,” he said gently pushing her back down onto the
mattress. ”I want to take you home soon.”

Ron opened the door and let Harry and Ginny in. ”One more minute,” he asked the Healers.

Harry and Ginny approached Hermione's bed. She held her arms out, inviting each of them into her embrace.
”Welcome back, Hermione,” Harry said, kissing her forehead. ”You gave us quite a fright.”

”Thank you, Harry.” Hermione said ”I don't know what you did, but I feel right as rain. I don’t even have a
headache.”

Harry drew the Elder wand and showed it to them.

”You didn't,” Ron said in astonishment. ”You hate that thing!”

”I did... I saw no other choice... and I don’t hate it, exactly,” Harry said as he examined it. ”I just... I don’t know.
I don’t really feel comfortable waving it about. I don’t want anyone to know I have it.”

The four friends chatted a while, with Ginny promising copies of her class notes. ”I have copies for each class
arranged in a file folder so they don’t get mussed. They’re yours when you’re ready.”

”Thanks, Ginny. I really appreciate it,” she said.

Harry and Ginny bade them goodnight and turned to leave. ”Ron, you might want to send your Patronus to the
Burrow and give them the news,” Harry suggested.

”Bloody hell! Mum’ll go spare if I don’t tell her,” Ron exclaimed.

”Ron, Love,” Hermione said softly. ”Why don’t you go on back to Hogwarts and owl her from there. You’re a
mess and you need some rest.”

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”But ’Mione...”

”Ron, please? You said Mum and Dad are here, so I won’t be alone. Besides, I’m a bit knackered myself,” she
said. ”Do this for me, if not for yourself. Your whiskers are scratchy and I want to snog you tomorrow.” Her lips
broke out into a bright smile and her cinnamon eyes sparkled.

As soon as they left, Hermione’s team of Healers slipped into her room to give her a quick check up. They were
amazed at her recovery. They tucked her in as she slept and walked away, whispering about her case.

As Harry, Ginny, and Ron walked to the lifts, they met Mr and Mrs Granger returning from the commissary.
”Ron, is she...?”

”She’s fine. She was awake for a bit, but she’s pretty tired. She just fell back to sleep,” Ron assured them.
”She‘s sent me back to Hogwarts, telling me I look awful.”

”We’ve been telling you that for the better part of a week,” Mr Granger said. ”Thank you for looking out for her.
We’ll stay with her tonight and see you in the morning.”

The Grangers continued on to Hermione’s room just as the lift arrived to take them all back to the lobby, where
they Apparated to the Hogwarts gates. The prospect of a night’s sleep in a bed hit Ron like a stampeding unicorn
and he collapsed on the bed fully clothed and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The following morning, Ron got out of bed and padded to the bathroom for a hot shower. He stood there and
flexed his neck, back and shoulder muscles as the water cascaded over his head and down his aching body. He
quickly washed himself and turned off the tap. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his
waist, drying his shaggy red mop with another. He wiped the steam from the mirror and gasped at what he saw.
I look like a bloody geezer!

He carefully shaved the offending growth from his face, revealing the smooth youthful skin underneath. He still
looked a little drawn, but more like nineteen than ninety. A hearty breakfast and you’ll be good as new, but your
first order of business is to owl the Burrow before your mum has your head. "Right," he said absentmindedly, not
realising he was answering the mirror.

Ron dressed and climbed the steps to the owlery, where he found Pig hanging about with the school owls. ”Pig,
come down here, you screwy git.” Pig flew down and landed on Ron’s shoulder. ”Take this to Mum at the Burrow
and no showing off, got it?” The tiny scops owl hooted his enthusiasm as Ron tied the note to his leg. ”Off you
get, now. Go!” Pig hooted again and flew out the window.

The next day Hermione was discharged from St Mungo's with a clean bill of health and the admonition to take it
easy for a couple of day.

”Easy? I’m so far behind,” she moaned. ”This is going to be anything but easy.”

Ron had arrived to collect her and the Grangers to head for the Burrow. Molly wouldn't have it any other way.
There was a much over-due celebration for Victoire's birth, for Arthur's, Ron’s, and Harry's promotions, for the
victory against Mafalda, and Hermione's return to health. As the Grangers had hardly been home for the entire
week it didn't take much to get them to accept the Weasleys’ hospitality.

Harry felt more relaxed than he had in months. The only thing niggling him was the question of the Elder Wand.
Should he keep it hidden and never use it again? If he'd done that already, would Hermione have still come
through with her mind intact? The delicious feast Molly prepared took his mind off it, at least for the moment as
he tucked in a joined in the celebrations.

Chapter 22: N.E.W.T.


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Chapter 22 - NEWT

Once the family were seated around the scrubbed oak table, Molly opened a special cupboard and pulled out a
very special bottle of Old Ogden’s. Arthur smiled in amusement because Molly was the one who usually returned
the very special bottle to the special cupboard. She produced glasses for everyone and poured some Firewhiskey
in to each one. Fleur gave her a puzzled expression as Molly flicked her wand at her glass. ”Now it's harmless,
but the flavor’s intact. You can't very well have pumpkin juice on this occasion, now can you?” Molly winked at
her daughter-in-law and then raised her glass to the entire Weasley assemblage.

”My dear family, I’m so happy that we’re all here together,” she said, beaming at Hermione and little Victoire.
”We have so much to celebrate today. Our darling Victoire was born just a week ago making Arthur and me
grandparents for the first time, Arthur, Harry, and Ron have all been promoted to the top three jobs in magical
law enforcement, the capture of our less-than-dear relative, Mafalda, Hermione returning to us, and the great
joy of our being together after...” Molly began to falter. She stood stock still for a moment and gathered her
thoughts. ”After the horrors of Tom Riddle’s regime came crashing to a halt just one year ago. To the Weasley
clan! Slaínte!”

”Slaínte!” a chorus of voices replied and they drained their glasses.

”Now, Weasleys,” Molly said arranging herself in her seat. ”Tuck in!”

Everyone dug into the mouthwatering spread Molly had prepared in much the way Ron used to do. Harry found
himself just watching them all, thinking about how far they’d come since the Battle of Hogwarts. It seemed like a
lifetime and no time at all.

Ginny was about to carve out a mint roasted lamb chop when she sensed Harry’s reverie and turned to him.
”You look like the Kneazle that ate the Snidget,” Ginny whispered. ”Sickle for your thoughts.”

Harry looked at her and smiled in a very relaxed way. ”You know, if I took a Sickle from you every time you
offered one for my thoughts, I’d be a very wealthy man,” Harry whispered with his Harry-grin. ”No, it's just that
when I'm with your family, I'm just me, and not... I mean I'm just plain Harry.”

Ginny’s heart melted. He could say the simplest and sweetest things. She always loved his lack of pretention, his
humility, and shyness. They were all things that made Harry Harry. She leaned into him and caught a hint of his
woodsy-spicy scent and sent a gentle wave of her love and desire to him. ”And we all love you, just plain Harry.”
She kissed his cheek and resumed carving the lamb chop.

Harry had by now, without ever intending it, convinced the entire Wizarding world that he was the new Albus
Dumbledore. This moniker had become the latest in the line of epithets attributed to him: the Boy-Who-Lived,
the Chosen One, Undesirable Number One, the Saviour, the New Dumbledore. It was used in every magical
newspaper and magazine in print.

The week following the arrest of Mafalda Prewett had been a nervous one for the entire clan and none of the
Weasleys took much time out to read the papers properly. Earlier that day, Harry and Ginny had decided to
catch up a bit on the news and gossip. Kingsley, Harry and Arthur were the ones the journalists turned into
heroes. The Aurors were praised as better and stronger than ever thanks to the fine leadership of Harry Potter
and Ron Weasley. Some columnists demanded a seat instantly on the Wizengamot for Harry, while others
merely pointed out that after the next elections and change of members he would probably be offered one.

There were a few articles that were nothing but pure rot, the work of tabloid writers and sensationalists the
calibre of Rita Skeeter, which the euphoric opinion of the Wizarding community recognised it as less than
legitimate journalism. Lee Jordan had his hands full with the new influx of fan mail. Replies from Harry and
Ginny had been short during the week, mostly due to Hermione's predicament. Few reporters could imagine
Harry like this—relaxed, just one of the family and not so blasted special.

”But you know you’re special...to me,” Ginny said, breathing deeply of his scent again, as she felt his affection
flow into her like the draught of life itself. And if you’re a good boy, I’ll show you later just how special I think
you are.

”That I can live with,” Harry replied with a smile.

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”I know what you mean, though, Love. I get my share of it too,” Ginny said with a sigh. Witch Weekly had voted
her the most beautiful witch in the country for forty weeks straight. No one in the history of that publication had
ever held that position for so long. Others who steadily sat on the list of top ten magical beauties included
Hermione, climbing to second place after gaining sympathy because of her injury, followed by Cho, Lavender,
and Hannah (Abbott) Longbottom. In Hannah's case, some jealous readers argued that she in fact wasn't in the
country, but in France with Neville.

”Don't complain about facts, Gin,” Harry mocked her lovingly. ”You are the most beautiful, list or no list.”

Ginny didn't care to reply, but stroked his cheek instead and gave him a quick kiss. ”Hmm, I think my brother
might have something to say about that,” she said, nodding across the table. ”Look at him, will you? He's eating
so slowly tonight.”

That was true. Ron didn't let go of Hermione all evening, even at the supper table. He held her with one arm at
all times, leaving only one hand to shove food in with. A failed attempt to charm his tableware to feed him had
earned him a sharp look from his mother, so Ron accepted the slow pace of eating. He couldn’t bring himself to
let go of his beloved ’Mione.

Harry continued to take in each face at the table, feeling at peace. Molly and Arthur were the only parents he
ever really knew—at least they came as close as any couple could.

Bill was just plain cool, with his ponytail, fang earring, and scruffy dragon-skin boots. He was the go-to big
brother Harry never had, and his wife, Fleur, a friend from the Triwizard Tournament, was easy to like too.

Charlie was the fairest-minded of the Weasley brethren, as he called himself and the others. He was the first of
the six—well, five—brothers to accept his and Ginny's relationship the day they declared it official to the
Weasley clan.
Percy had been hard for Harry to relate to for a couple of reasons. Percy was a pompous git most of the time and
had turned his back on his family in favour of a seriously corrupt Ministry. But Percy had gone through some
changes over the past two years. He realised that family came before government and took his family
responsibilities to heart after Fred was killed, availing himself to George as he mourned his twin. Percy’s attitude
may also have changed due to the high-ranking law enforcement positions he—Harry—and Ron held with the
Auror Office. Percy was still pompous, but more relaxed.

George—and Fred—had always looked out for him during his first years at Hogwarts, and steadfastly supported
him during the darkest times of his life, especially during his fifth year at Hogwarts when he had been
persecuted as a liar and a nutter by the Prophet and the Ministry. The twins were enthusiastic members of the
fledgling DA and did their level best to make Delores Umbridge’s tyrannical tenure as Headmistress as living hell
for her. Harry played Quidditch on the Gryffindor team with him and Angelina, who had always treated him
kindly and with respect.

Harry’s eyes settled on Ron, the youngest of the Weasley brothers and his best mate. Ron was his partner in
crime-fighting, his Assistant Head, and his brother. He had stood by Harry’s side through thick and thin, and
even the occasional disagreement couldn’t break their friendship. He loved Ron and that was all there was to it.

Harry looked at Mr and Mrs Granger. He didn't know them very well, other than through a business deal
surrounding the dental clinic. Harry liked them just the same, and the way they raised Hermione spoke volumes
about their character.

His eyes followed the faces to Hermione, his best friend and surrogate sister. Ron still held her close to him as
they ate, but she didn't seem to mind. She was the brightest witch of their age. If it hadn’t been for her wit and
ability to puzzle a problem out, he and Ron would never have survived their many adventures at Hogwarts and
on the run searching for the Horcruxes. He loved Hermione as much as he loved Ron.

Next to Harry sat the most beautiful woman in the world—his Ginny. One look from her alone swept him off his
feet. Her flowery scent intoxicated him and her straightforward and compassionate personality captivated his
imagination. The closer they got, the more he loved her, but there were no words to describe that love. Their
bond, forged in love and sacrifice, tied them closely together for eternity, and never had that commitment or its
meaning ever alarmed him. Even if he had wished to break that bond, a concept inconceivable to him, he didn't
have the first clue as to how to go about it. I love her more than life itself.

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Molly noticed her surrogate son gazing around the table and misunderstood his reasons. ”Harry dear, have some
more,” Molly said, piling more food on his plate. Molly took great pride in stuffing them all, for she was a
wonderful cook.

Harry realised it must have looked to her like he was trying to decide what to eat next. Ginny gave him a earth-
shaking smile, because she knew Harry appreciated the mothering.

After dinner, Harry and Ginny were saddled with kitchen duty while just about everyone else disappeared to
somewhere else in the house or outside. The only ones left at the table were the Grangers and they looked very
confused.
”No worries, Mr and Mrs Granger. They're probably just off planning our Stag and Hen nights,” Ginny said as she
cleared the table.

”Planning our what nights?” Harry had never heard of such things as Stag and Hen nights.

”Didn't you notice their mischievous grins?” Some Auror, not noticing that. Ginny turned to the Grangers.
”Hermione told you she's my maid of honour, didn't she?”

”Yes, she did. We know what close friends you are,” Mrs Granger answered.

Ginny smiled. ”She’s like a sister to me. I grew up with a bunch of brothers,” she said and flicked her wand at a
pile of plates, magically cleaning them.

Harry cast freezing charms over the leftovers and stashed them in a cupboard. The shock on the Grangers’ faces
reminded him of his own surprise when he saw Professor McGonagall transform into her Animagus cat form for
the first time.

Harry and Ginny finished cleaning up the kitchen in just a few minutes, so they joined the Grangers at the table
to continue their conversation. They took their seats across from Hermione’s parents with Harry’s arm stretched
across the back of Ginny’s chair. ”Hasn’t Hermione used common household spells,” Harry asked, making himself
comfortable.

”Hermione hasn't been around much since she came of age. We honestly haven't seen her perform very much
magic at all,” Mr Granger confessed.

”In fact, we know precious little about her world, but we’d like to learn more since Hermione will live as a witch
rather than a Muggle. After all, she is going to marry Ron,” Mrs Granger explained.

”Of course, Hermione has told us about the parts you, she, and Ron played in the war and all the things you had
to do, but the everyday life part...that’s all rather new,” Mr Granger admitted.

”You’ll learn quite a bit over the next few weeks,” Harry assured them. ”Molly will insist on celebrating Ginny's
and Hermione's graduation here, and shortly after that is the wedding. I guess you'll have been staying here for
a while by then.”

”Yes, that’s true. Arthur insisted we should stay here,” Mr Granger replied. Arthur would jump at the chance to
have Muggles living at the Burrow, and these Muggles were becoming a part of the family, to boot.

Harry and Ginny continued to play unaware and let the others make their plans, but a couple of days later, it
was time for Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione to return to Hogwarts. It was a beautiful Sunday evening, so they
decided to Apparate to Hogsmeade and walk to the school from there.

Halfway to the castle, Hermione pulled herself away from Ron. She stopped Harry and stood in front of him,
taking his hand in hers. She gazed up into her surrogate brother’s eyes as her own began to tear up. ”Harry, I...
I never really thanked you.”

”Thanked me for what? Allowing you to come along so you could lie in a coma for a week in St Mungo's? Really
Hermione, you don't need to thank me for that.” Harry said with a hint of sarcasm. Guilt over his lack of
judgment on that issue still gnawed at the back of his brain.

Hermione stomped her foot in frustration. She knew then that Harry still had a case of the guilts and she was

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not going to allow him to launch into brood mode. ”By Merlin's pink thong Harry! I knew very well what I was
getting myself into!” Harry and Ginny had begun to laugh.

”Merlin’s pink thong,” Ginny howled. ”Where did you get that? It’s hysterical!”

Harry had a pretty good idea what a thong was, and the picture that had begun to form in his mind was that of
Dumbledore almost starkers with a very revealing pink ladies’ undergarment strapped across his hips. He fell to
his knees, clutching his sides before he fell to the ground barely able to breathe.

Ron just stood there looking around at his fiancée, his sister, and his best friend, wondering what was so funny.
”Er...’Mione, what’s a pink thong?”

Hermione couldn’t help herself. She had been a bit put out that Harry and Ginny were laughing at her, but Ron’s
ignorance of certain things often made her laugh and love him all the more. He was a adept lover, but so
innocent in so many ways. Once she’d been able to catch her breath, she stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his
ear.

Ron’s eyes grew wide and his face turned red as beetroot. It took a few moments for a mental picture to flash
through his own mind before he began to chuckle. Harry and Ginny had only just began to collect themselves
when they saw the look on Ron’s face. Harry explained what he saw in his mind’s eye. Ginny said something
about dancing, and they all began to literally scream as they fell all over one another, laughing so hard, they
could barely stand.

After several minutes, their mirth spent, they began to settle down, wiping tears from their faces, still giggling
and chuckling as they caught their breath. Hermione was the first to calm down. ”All right, you three! I’m trying
to be serious here.”

”But you...”

”Don’t you dare say it, Harry Potter. Don’t even say it,” Hermione warned with a smirk. She knew what joke he
was about to make. ”Listen to me now, Harry. I really need to say this.”

”Okay, Hermione. Okay. I’m listening. We’re listening,” Harry said, trying to keep his composure.

”Harry, you know very well I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. We’d been through too much. You two had
always been there for me. I can’t help but think back to that horrible night at Malfoy Manor,” she began to tear
up again as her bottom lip quivered. ”Ron carried me a little way before Dobby...”

”Take your time, ’Mione,” Ron said, putting a protective arm around her waist. He’d had nightmares about that
night himself. He and Harry were trapped in that dungeon cell, but they could hear every scream of anguish and
pain that passed through Hermione’s lips as Bellatrix tortured her. He remembered the anger that gripped his
very soul and the heartache of being unable to get to her as he clawed at the stone walls of that cell, screaming
her name.

”Know... knowing Ron was there and might be hurt...hurting, I had to come...I had to be there for him. It wasn't
your fault, Harry,” she said as tears flowed. ”But what I’m thanking you for is healing me so I could come back
to... to Ron... to all of you.”

Ginny had said pretty much the same thing to him, but hearing it from Hermione eased his mind and banished
the leftover guilt altogether. ”I... I just... oh, bloody hell...” Harry said, pulling Hermione into a tight hug. ”I'm
just glad you're back.” They cried on one another in that embrace for a few minutes before they separated and
wiped each other’s tears away.

Soon the two couples resumed their leisurely walk to the castle. Once inside the gates, they met up with Hagrid,
who was stumping back toward his hut from the Forbidden Forest.

”Hi, Hagrid,” Ginny called.

”Evenin',” he grunted.

”Hagrid,” Harry said.

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”Yer back. All right there, ’Ermione?”

”I'm fine thanks,” she said, leaning into Ron.

There was a look on Hagrid’s face that told them that he was harbouring a secret he was dying to tell them.
”What's up Hagrid,” Ron asked. ”You got some Quintapeds something?” He thought back to the day that he,
Harry, and Hermione sat in the gamekeeper’s hut and watched an illegal dragon’s egg hatch on his table their
first year. They’d kept Hagrid’s secret and even helped feed it, but Ron had been bitten and the pain was
excruciating. Norbert. He named a ruddy Norwegian Ridgeback Norbert.

”Very funny. No. While yer were off fightin' the ruddy Death Eaters and lookin’ after our ’Ermione ’ere all week,
well...I made an arrangement.” They were all curious. Hagrid's plans had a way of leading to some unhealthy
situations, despite every good intention. ”I got yer bike 'ere. It's in the forest.”

”Hagrid! That’s great.” Harry exclaimed.

”I couldn't let you bring it 'ere, could I? Would be nice 'eadlines in the curs-ed Prophet. The Head an' Assistant
Head flyin' all over Englan’ on an cursed illegal Muggle motorcycle. Nah, I took it aff Arthur’s ’ands meself
instead. ’Ope yer don't mind?” Hagrid confessed, looking for approval.

”You and Mr Weasley set this up,” Hermione asked.

”Right.”

”So it would look better if you, the Head of Gryffindor House, were caught with Mr Weasley, the Head of the
Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Hermione asked.

At first, Harry, Ginny and Ron stared at Hermione, then at a blushing Hagrid. ”Are you saying Dad came with
you,” Ginny asked him.

Hagrid nodded.

”Of course he wouldn't miss that opportunity,” Hermione concluded.

”He's mental. What if they'd been caught by the Squads? Would he arrest himself? And his old Office would
report the incident to the Department Head... him...” Ron yelled, adding the worst for last. ”What if Mum finds
out?”

That broke the dam. Harry, Ginny and Hermione burst into laughter. Gasping for breath, Hagrid tried to look
serious. ”Well 'Arry, yer still want ter learn ter ride that ruddy bike,” he asked.

”Of course I do,” Harry said, looking forward to do something fun after hunting Death Eaters.

He looked up at Ron's expectant face and smirked. ”And so does Ron.”

”Boys...” Hermione sighed, crossing her arms over her chest with a snort. Flying objects, whether brooms or
cursed bikes didn't agree with her. However, she had to admit she’d had several fantasies involving Ron on a
motorcycle, with her seated behind him, tucked up close against his back as the powerful machine rumbled
beneath them. But none of those fantasies involved flying.

Ginny, on the other hand, smiled wickedly at the possibilities. She whispered something into Harry’s ear and
winked at him. ”You’ll get to ride it too,” Harry promised. He closed his eyes momentarily, trying to temper the
heat building in his belly as he imagined his Ginny dressed in a form-fitting midriff top, a black leather fringed
jacket with matching leather slacks hugging her hips, and high-heel boots. He could almost feel her body
pressed against his, her arms around his waist with her hands clutching his stomach and chest as the wind blew
through her fiery tresses. Gryffindor’s lion had awakened and roared its approval.

”Erm...shouldn’t we get back to the castle,” Ginny asked, passing her hand over Harry’s back. ”I’m plain
knackered after all the celebrating this weekend.” Harry’s having a hard time holding it together. Excellent.

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”Uh...yeah. That’s right, Gin-Gin,” Ron agreed. Gryffindor’s lion roared in more than one alumnus this night. ”I
could do with a kip myself.”

”Goodnight, then, you four,” Hagrid said, opening the door. ”Good luck on them NEWTs, ’Ermione and Ginny.
You’ll do great.”

”Thanks Hagrid,” Hermione said as Ron tugged her away toward the castle. ”See you later then.”

The two couples hurried into the castle and tore up the stone stairs. They couldn’t wait to get to their rooms.
They hadn’t had much time to themselves over the past couple of weeks and they fully intended to take this
opportunity to enjoy some private time before the occupational and academic chaos that would rule the next
several weeks took hold of their every waking moment.

As much as he would have loved to, Harry wasn’t able to ride his bike at all that following week. He had fallen
behind with his daily reports due to the Mafalda Prewett and Hermione situations, so his primary objective was
to finish them. Arthur was also behind, so that took some of the pressure off Harry, since his reports went to
him as Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Nepotism did have its advantages sometimes.

Harry’s schedule was full of interviews and pre-trial meetings. Ron found himself up to his neck in the workload
as well, since he had been the tactical advisor in two of the four missions and a kidnapping victim in the whole
affair as well. As a result of their occupational obligations, they returned to Hogwarts late every day.

For their part, Hermione and Ginny had turned their rooms into miniature libraries. They had a lot of missed
class work to catch up on and loads of revising for the NEWT.s to add to the workload. Both rooms looked like
academic refuse dumps with broken quills, bits of torn and crumpled parchment, and books strewn hither and
yon all over the place. In addition to the homework clutter, Harry’s and Ginny’s room had Quidditch robes and
gear lying about on any piece of furniture that didn’t have academia piled on it.

Ginny had managed to arrange for the Gryffindor team to practice with the Harpies the last week before the
Quidditch final. Gryffindor had already won the House Cup, but Ginny wanted her team to go out in a blaze of
glory. If they managed to score 430 points, that would be a school record for the most points scored by a single
team in a year, so Ginny constantly reminded Dennis to avoid catching the Snitch until the Chasers had scored
at least 280 points. She allowed him to use any means possible to keep the Ravenclaw Seeker from catching it
first, so long as his methods were legal and not too nasty.

What little time the couples had together was spent either eating or sleeping, although for Harry and Ron, the
workload had eased up a bit. They were able to work out at the Aurors’ gym and resume regular dueling practice
with the other Aurors. They were able to work shorter days and spend the rest of their waking hours offering as
much moral support to their women.

On the sunnier days, Hermione and Ginny preferred studying outside on the grounds. The fresh air invigourated
them and helped them stay focused on their revision. Harry and Ron kept them supplied with fresh pumpkin
juice and snacks the kitchen house-elves gladly gave them. Occasionally, they would make mad dashes to the
library to retrieve necessary books or to look up a particular item the girls needed for one subject or another.
Madame Pince had tried to tell Harry and Ron that they weren't allowed to come to the library because they
were not students.

In a way, that was true, but the former DA class, now fully-fledged Aurors and sort-of- professors, still held
student status until the end of the academic year. Madame Pince only wished for less running in and out of her
library. Even though she could be cantankerous, Harry was rather grateful that his name meant nothing to her.
She treated him no differently than any other student.

That weekend brought the House Quidditch final. Ginny had gone ahead with her team for a final closed meeting
and to get ready to play. Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way across the castle grounds to the pitch. They
were on their way to the Gryffindor section when their heard a familiar voice calling to them from the direction
of the pitch.

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”Luna!” Harry recognised their friend as she walked swiftly toward them. He picked her up in a hug and twirled
her around. ”Luna, it’s so good to see you again!” He put her down so she could hug Ron and Hermione as well.

”Ginny's preparing for her grand finale as captain? I'm quite at a loss here,” she said breathlessly. ”Do I cheer
for my former house or for my friend's team?”

Hermione made the decision for her. ”Today you're one of us,” she declared, draping a Gryffindor scarf around
her neck.

Luna examined the gold and red scarf with two Gs on it. She pulled her wand and changed the second G into a
W. ”Now it stands for Ginny Weasley.” Luna smiled her airy smile, quite satisfied with the solution to her
dilemma.

On the way to their seats, they made Luna promise to tell them all about her year in South America after the
game. Seamus and Lavender had saved them seats in the Gryffindor section, and across the pitch, they could
see Cho, Terry and Tony Goldstein in the Ravenclaw section.

The booming of the game announcer’s voice drew their attention away from the crowd as the teams flew on to
the pitch. ”Wearing jersey number six for the last time as the Gryffindor team captain and star Chaser, I give
you Ginny Weasley,” the announcer cried. She soared onto the pitch on her beloved Firebolt, the crowd greeting
her with a roar of applause and cheers.” She buzzed the Gryffindor box, blowing a kiss and flashing her thick
fiery ponytail at Harry as he sat there and beamed his love for her.

That this was Ginny’s last game as a Gryffindor Chaser was probably all the Ravenclaws wanted to remember
when it was all over. Her Gryffindors trampled them like a herd of wild Erumpents with a record-smashing score
of 850-40. Ginny's team set a new record for winning by a margin of 810 points, another record for scoring 850
points in a game, and yet another record for scoring more goals than any other house team in one season in
history. Ginny set an new individual record for most goals scored by a Chaser in a single year.

The Gryffindors’ week with the Harpies had paid off. The Ravenclaw team could only concede and congratulate a
worthy winner for a game well-played. Professor McGonagall didn't even bother to hide her bias for Gryffindor
House, proudly accepting a Gryffindor scarf from a student as Hagrid cried huge tears of joy and pride, wiping
his face with his tablecloth-sized handkerchief.

The student body, led by a swarm of Gryffindors, flooded the pitch to welcome the winning team as they landed.
Ginny landed close to Harry, exhausted but exhilarated, yet a bit sad. A few tears had stolen down her cheeks as
Harry picked her up in a crushing hug. He heard a little sob escape her throat as he set her back down. ”Are you
all right, Gin,” Harry asked.

”I guess I couldn't ask for more, but still it's a bit strange,” she sniffed. ”I'll never play for Gryffindor again,”
Ginny said as she buried her face in Harry’s chest.

”Gin, it’ll be fine, Love. You're a Harpy now and you're damned good.” He wiped her tears away with his thumbs
and gave her a very hot and passionate kiss. He pressed his forehead to hers as he held her by her shoulders.
”Amazing game today. Congratulations.” Ginny smiled as she melted into his embrace. She had probably made
the next edition of Hogwarts: A History.

After the game Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Luna joined Seamus, Lavender, Cho, Tony and Terry at the
Three Broomsticks for a little celebration. Everyone was happy for Ginny for having defended the House Cup in
the record breaking way, reuniting with Luna, and having a general break from NEWT studies. The group of
Hogwarts students and alumni seated at their table had a great time replaying the game in their conversation,
but what they really wanted to hear about was Luna's year in South America with the Scamanders.

”I can’t say too much about the whole thing because I’ve written about it for the next issue of The Quibbler,”
Luna said. ”By the way, Harry and Ginny. Dad is so pleased you chose him to cover your wedding. The exclusive
rights will help him rebuild The Quibbler.”

”We’d never sell those rights to the ruddy Prophet,” Harry said with a hint of disgust. ”Tell your father it was our
pleasure. Now, Luna, what can you tell us?”

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”South America is amazing...” Luna said, and seemed to drift off all the way back to South America and said
nothing more.

”Yes? So...” Hermione asked with a slightly annoyed tone.

Luna looked at Hermione as if she silently wondered why Hermione had interrupted her. ”There are interesting
plants that don’t grow here. In fact, I doubt British wizards and witches have ever heard of them. I bought a
couple of them back for Neville. I left them in Professor Sprout's good care until he returns to England,” she
said, twirling her hair. ”Did you know that the Tentacula Australe is a very friendly and harmless cousin to our
Venomous Tentacula? It can be used to hang your laundry on, always pointing it to the sun. But that’s all I will
tell you. You can read the rest in the next issue of The Quibbler.”

”What's wrong with a cleaning charm,” Ron asked rather grumpy. Ever since his less-than-pleasant introduction
to an acquaintance with Devil's Snare in his first year, he decided he disliked all moving plants.

”Does it actually do your laundry too,” Seamus asked with a twinkle and a wink.

”No, Seamus. I thought you knew a plant can't do complex things like that,” Luna answered in a surprisingly
Hermione-ish way.

Seamus opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He looked rather like a guppy than an elite Auror and
the others burst into laughter. Neither Seamus nor Luna understood what it was they were laughing about,
making the others laugh even harder. ”Was it somethin’ I said,” Seamus finally asked, feeling pretty stupid.

This made the rest of them literally howl. Hermione finally tried to answer as she gasped for breath. ”Quite the
opposite Finnegan...” This sent the others into gut-busting screams of laughter, drawing the curious attention of
the other patrons in the pub. Their infectious laughter spilled over to other tables, and soon the whole pub had
erupted into laughter without having heard the joke. Madame Rosmerta giggled to herself as she served her
customers. She knew where the mirth radiated from. For her, having Harry Potter and his friends in her
establishment was a pleasure. It brought back the old days when his father, James, and his partner-in-crime,
Sirius Black, would come in with their other friends and raise cut up on Hogwarts weekends so long ago. Harry is
truly his father’s son.

”What are your plans now that you’re back in England,” Ginny asked as the group finally pulled themselves
together.

”I might return to South America, or visit Africa first... but I will go back to South America again. But first I'm
looking forward to your wedding. Ginny, you’re so lucky. Harry’s really a great person.”

”Yeah, I am lucky. He doesn’t understand sometimes how special he is,” Ginny said as she absentmindedly
reached over an slid a hand up Harry’s thigh. ”I mean, as a person, not as a legendary hero. He’s so Harry that
he doesn’t understand how different he is.”

Had Harry been paying attention to Ginny and Luna rather than engaging in shop talk with the other Aurors
seated at his table, Hermione included, he might have blushed at Luna’s assessment and Ginny’s praise of him.
Harry and the others regaled Ron and Hermione with the full story about the capture of Mafalda Prewett at
Anfield.

”Where did you Apparate to once you had Mafalda, Harry,” Cho asked cocking her head. ”You never told us.”

”Little Hangleton. I’m not sure why; I just did,” Harry replied. ”I tried to talk her into giving up without a fight,
but she wanted a duel, so I gave her one. She lost.”

”So how come Ginny was with you when you brought Mafalda in,” Terry asked, taking a sip of Butterbeer.
”Shouldn’t Ginny have been at Hogwarts?”

”Ah. Well...” Harry hesitated. Ginny’s hand on his thigh caused his stomach to flip over. ”You know how
Dumbledore was always on about love as the power the Dark Lord knows not? I decided that perhaps Mafalda
needed a demonstration. I sent a message to Ginny asking her to Apparate there. As soon as she arrived, she
nailed Mafalda with a stunner and taught her a lesson.”

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Ron and Hermione knew there was more to it than that, but they didn’t press Harry for more. The bond he
shared with Ginny was very private and not to be discussed in public. They just sat there with knowing smiles on
their faces, as Ron pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

”So...you didn’t really need any help,” Tony said.

”Not at all. I had her, but she didn’t understand that. DEs don’t know when to quit, Tony. You know that,” Harry
said with a grin.

The following week, Harry and Hagrid were able to begin Harry’s driving lessons, with Ron joining them once in
a while. Hagrid had cleared a large spot in the Forbidden Forest for their lessons so as not to invite suspicion or
the attention of the students and faculty at the school. Their first lesson involved learning how to balance the
heavy bike. After all, it was not a broomstick, so it was a bit unwieldy and took a bit of upper-body strength to
steady it. Hagrid taught them how to plant their feet flat on the ground to hold it upright while the bike was not
moving. That could be done magically, but if they any designs on riding it among Muggles, they had to learn the
Muggle way.

The next series of lessons involved the more mechanical aspects of motorcycling, which involved Arthur’s
assistance. Hagrid taught them how to start it by turning the key and then throwing their weight onto the
starter. After several tries, both Harry and Ron were able to start it in one go. Then they learned how and when
to shift, where the brakes were and how they worked, and how to adjust the seat for their individual comfort.

It wasn’t long before Harry and Ron could guide it slowly around the clearing. As they were able to pick up
speed, shift, and make smooth turns around the makeshift course Hagrid set up, they became more confident
and became accustomed to the vibrating of the engine rumbling under them. But it would be a while before they
could learn to use the charms that Arthur had put on it, including the flying charm. Harry couldn’t wait until he
felt sure enough about his skills to take Ginny for a ride. Ron decided he wanted one of his own so he could take
Hermione riding.

NEWTs began the last few day of May and ran into the first two weeks of June. Harry and Ron hardly ever had to
set foot at the Auror Office other than for meetings, training sessions, and other minor official business. Since
there was little else to do and most of the Aurors still lived at Hogwarts, there was really no other need for them
to leave the grounds. Right now, their mission was to support their fiancées.

Ginny had five exams while Hermione ten. Following her first exam, Ginny looked pale and shaken, but
Hermione looked confident, as though this was the highlight of her years at Hogwarts—the very point of
studying at all. Following her second exam, Ginny shuffled out of the classroom as though she’d been through
the roughest Quidditch match of her entire life, but Hermione remained energetic. After the fourth exam,
Hermione's increasing enthusiasm finally seemed to have begun to wane.”Aren't your exams demanding,” Ginny
asked her.

”Of course they are,” Hermione smiled.

”I'm up for three more and then I’m finished,” Ginny said, checking her exam schedule. ”Our next one is
Defence Against the Dark Arts. I’m not really worried about that one. Harry’s been really good about working
with me.”

”I am,” Hermione said. ”Ron’s been helping me, of course, but I didn’t do as well as I wanted to with my OWL, so
it’s got me a little concerned.” I must earn an O. I can’t settle for less.

They had the weekend to prepare, so both Ron and Harry worked hard with them in dueling and theory. ”I
wonder who will be the one the Ministry sends to hold the exam. Wouldn't either of you know,” Hermione asked
Harry and Ron, batting her eyes at them. Harry and Ron blushed.

”Now what,” Ginny demanded with fire in her eyes.


“Well... it is the Auror Office who helps give the exam in Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Harry confessed,
stealing guilty looks at Ron.

”Ah...” Hermione said, nodding. ”But... it can't be...”

”No, it’s not Ron or me.” Harry admitted. ”For you two, there would be a conflict of interest, but we did make the

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decision as to who to send.”

”And we can't tell you,” Ron added before the girls could ask the obvious question.

After breakfast Monday morning, Hermione and Ginny left for their exam. Harry and Ron grabbed a second
round of breakfast. Unbeknownst to the girls, their men would be present at their exam. Hermione and Ginny
felt a bit nervous as they entered the examination classroom. John Dawlish was there to greet them.

As it turned out, the exam work was actually lighter than their practices with Harry and Ron. Both Hermione and
Ginny produced corporeal Patronuses, with Ginny producing hers non-verbally. Ginny gazed at her doe with a
smile, thinking of Harry, before it disappeared in a vapour of silver mist.

The next part of the exam was the duel. For this part of the exam, Dawlish bought in Seamus, Cho, Harry and
Ron. Ginny and Hermione shot narrow-eyed glares at their men, who just smirked back at them and winked.

”You will duel one of these Aurors. I'm aware you know them, but make no mistake. They will fight to their full
capacity and will not let you win,” Dawlish explained. He paused and then added, ”and because of the personal
nature of some relationships in this group, we have assigned your opponents. Miss Granger and Miss Weasley
will not duel their respective fiancés.”

Dawlish paired Ginny with Seamus. ”I hope you've improved since out last duel,” Ginny purred, reminding
Seamus about the loss he had suffered a few months back.

”Do yer best, Weasley darlin’. I know that I will...” Seamus answered in a friendly but challenging tone, his voice
dripping with his sly Irish brogue.

Dawlish paired Hermione with Cho. She knew from what Harry and Ron told her that Cho had become one of the
best duelers in the Auror Office. Harry and Ron were paired up with a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff they hardly
knew at all. Those poor students looked devastated, if not terrified, facing the nation's two most famous wizards.
Following the customary dueling proprieties, Dawlish shouted, ”duel,” and the exam began. Both Ginny and
Hermione performed admirably and were really grateful for the practice they had with Harry and Ron.

Ginny considered taking the dueling stance she’d learned from Tonks, but decided against it since this was an
official examination. As she worked the duel against Seamus, she noticed that he performed a lot better this
time. He respected her and dueled her as an equal. Harry defeated his opponent with relative ease, and so did
Ron. However, they offered encouraging words to those students and didn’t gloat over them or make them feel
inferior.

Hermione held on as long as possible, but in the end, Cho had a few tricks up her sleeve, finally slipping a
stunner through Hermione's Protego. Disoriented, Hermione cast a stunner back in the Cho’s general direction at
the same time Cho cast her disarming spell. The duel ended in a draw, when Cho was thrown across the room
and Hermione lost her wand.

Ginny and Seamus fought on even after the others were finished. Dawlish made a move to break it up, but
Harry halted him. ”Don’t stop them, JD. I don’t want to deal with Ginny if you do, and this is a bit of a friendly
grudge match between them anyway. Irish lost to her last time they dueled. Just let them go,” Harry said with a
chuckle.

As they continued to watch Ginny and Seamus duel on, Harry began to feel more and more what Ginny was
feeling. It was like the experiment. He was able to see the duel from both his perspective and Ginny’s. It was a
peculiar, yet familiar feeling. Harry knew when Ginny wanted to end the duel. He could feel a power surge from
her as she cast one of her scary stunners. She had done so with the same force she had before, making the
room shake. No matter how strong Seamus' shield might have been, it wasn't enough. He was hurled backwards
and next thing he knew, Ginny finished him by disarming him and then binding him with a non-verbal
Incarcerus. Seamus had lost to Ginny Weasley again.

The room fell silent. Ginny's power still crackled through the air like static electricity, her emotions pouring over
Harry like a flash flood.

”Very good, Miss Weasley,” Dawlish felt compelled to say. He fired a look at Harry as if to say what the hell have

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you been teaching her? Harry just grinned back at him in his Harry-like way.

She lifted her curse and Seamus got up again. ”Ya beat me fair ’n’ square, Ginny darlin’. I gave ya all I had. Well
done,” he said, shaking her hand.

They took a few minutes break before Dawlish administered the written and final portion of the Defence Against
the Dark Arts NEWT. Harry and Ron waited for their warrior queens outside the class room. Harry beamed with
pride as he scooped Ginny up in his arms, giving her a passionate kiss.

”You beat him again, Love,” Harry declared. ”And he dueled you as an equal.”

”Yes, I know,” Ginny shrugged. ”I didn’t think he’d be so foolish as to underestimate me again. I really
appreciated that.”

”How strong can your stunner actually get, Gin? I think that if you hit someone with that while he or she was
unshielded, it would put them in St Mungo’s,” Harry said.

”I don't know, Harry.” Ginny shrugged. ”But I think some of that comes from you somehow.”

”How did we do,” Hermione asked.

”How did we do?” Ron repeated imitating her. ”'Mione, you managed a draw against Cho and Ginny beat
Seamus... all the others lost in more or less embarrassing ways. You were brilliant, Love.” He took her in his
arms and kissed her hard. He couldn’t get enough of her, especially since the explosion.

Harry took Ginny's hand. ”You know... I had a strange feeling during the duel... it was like...like I could see
through your eyes, too.” Ginny continued. ”It was like the experiment.”

Harry nodded. ”Yeah, I could too. It was an amazing feeling, but strange.”

”Perhaps we can explore that a bit more when we have the time, Head Auror Potter,” Ginny suggested with a
wicked grin.

”I would like that very much, Miss Weasley. I’m ready when you are,” Harry replied as he put his arm around
her waist and walked her to lunch.

The next day, Ginny had a bit of a lie-in since she had no exams scheduled for that day. She’d had a glorious
night with Harry experimenting with their bond some more and engaging in other rather enjoyable activities.
She lay there thinking about her love for Harry and sent a wave of her love to him through their bond before
she rose to take a shower.

Hermione, on the other hand, had been up for quite a while revising for another exam. Ron stayed home with
her to help in any way he could. ”What might I do to serve Your Worship best, today,” Ron asked as he
embraced her from behind and kissed her neck.

”Mmm...you’re very sweet, my love, but keeping me company for lunch followed by a good neck massage would
be a fantastic start,” Hermione said. ”It's History of Magic today.”

”Honestly 'Mione, does anyone else take that exam beside you?” Ron couldn’t imagine what was so fascinating
about magical history, especially as presented by dry old Professor Binns’ ghost. That old bag of hot air couldn’t
even get our names right.

”No.” Hermione had to giggle a bit to herself because she knew Ron couldn’t fathom it. He’d always slept through
Professor Binns’ lectures. He even snored, but since everyone else in the class had been in their own torpor, no
one noticed. Not even Professor Binns. No one except her, of course. She’d noticed everything Ron did since
they were eleven years old.

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”So, you and professor Binns will do this,” Ron stated rather than asked. He turned her around to face him so he
could gaze into her beautiful face.

”Yes. He was actually very pleased. I’m the first witch in decades to have taken his class at this level. The last
one who took this exam was Professor Dumbledore.” Hermione’s face broke into a shy smile. She gazed into
Ron’s sapphire eyes. ”He even called me Miss Granger instead of Miss Grant.” Ron just shook his head, and took
her in his arms. He leaned in to wish her luck with a passionate promise-filled kiss.

Following her History of Magic NEWT, Hermione sat her Ancient Runes exam. That seemed to take the wind out
of her sails, for she tackled off as the extensive workload began to take its toll even on her. Ron’s massaging
hands on her neck and back felt marvelous and relieved a lot of the tension and staved off a mind-bending
headache. She rewarded his efforts handsomely before they went to sleep.

Ginny sat her fourth exam, but didn't know how she’d manage her last one. She was exhausted and decided to
ask Harry to give her a full body massage that night. Over the past several months, he’d become quite adept at
manipulating her aching muscles, especially after grueling practices with the Harpies and the Gryffindor team.
She had no idea how Hermione could keep up such a pace, having sat six NEWTs with four still to go. ”Tomorrow
is my last exam. Potions,” Ginny sighed, while Hermione was off taking her seventh exam. ”It's worse than a
rough game of Quidditch.”

”Ginny, look on the bright side. After Potions you're done,” Ron encouraged her.

”Harry dear, could you please Bat-Bogey Ron for me? I don't have the strength to lift my arm right now,” Ginny
grinned, kissing at her brother.

Harry laughed, watching his Ginny as she rested her head in his lap. ”Honestly, you never taught me how to
cast it.”

Ginny shrugged. ”Bollocks. I'll just have to have you drink my Potion tomorrow, whatever it is...” Ginny
yawned.

”If you brew as well as you cook, it’ll be brilliant,” Harry said, kissing two fingers and pressing them to her lips.

”Perhaps it’ll be a powerful love potion that’ll keep you devoted to me for life,” she teased, flashing her chocolate
brown eyes.

”Then I’m a willing test subject,” he said. ”I love you forever already.”

Following their Potions exam, Hermione continued to her Arithmancy NEWT. Ginny was finished, so she could
help her friend with the last of her revision for her final battery of tests. By the time Hermione was finished, she
felt as though she’d run a dozen marathons. Ron pampered her, even bringing food up to their room so she
wouldn’t have to climb stairs. ”Here, ’Mione, Love,” Ron said softly. ”No, no. Don’t get up. I’ll feed you.”

”Ronald, really,” Hermione said with a giggle. ”You’re spoiling me.”

”You’re worth it,” Ron insisted, kissing her forehead. ”Besides, I want to.”

”Ron...” Hermione began, ”I can feed myself. I’m not that knackered.”

Before she could say another word, Ron shoveled a bit of mashed potato into her mouth. Ron had such a kind
heart even if he was a bit blustery and temperamental. She decided that if he wanted to baby her, she’d let him,
if only for today. Hermione had all she could do to keep it there while they snickered at one another as he fed
her. He even insisted upon wiping her mouth when necessary. You’re a barmy devil, Ronald Bilius Weasley, but I
love you anyway.

A few nervous days followed before the seventh-years gathered in the Great Hall. Friends and family had been
invited for the ceremony. The following day the entire student body would gather for the final feast and House
Cup awards. But today was for the seventh-years to receive their NEWT results.

Hermione, who had kept relaxed through most of her examination schedule was jumping out of her skin the
hour before the ceremony. ”I’ve got a T in Ancient Runes,” she whimpered. ”I just know it.”

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”Why in the name of Merlin's navel fluff would you get a T,” Ron asked in pure amazement over Hermione's
sudden lack of confidence. ”You’re brilliant with Ancient Runes!” Hermione looked very seriously at him, clearly
wondering if he really wanted to know. ”Yeah, yeah, I get it, you mixed up your words here and there...” Ron
sighed. ”You’ll have great grades. You know that, don't you?”

Before she could answer, he captured her lips in a smouldering kiss as he pressed her body against him. She
calmed and melted into his arms.”Mmm...how do you do that, Weasley,” she whispered as he tucked a few wild
curls behind her ear. ”Do it again.” Ron obliged, only this time she ran her hands under his shirt as a promise of
things to come.

Ten minutes before the ceremony would begin, they left their room and met Molly and Arthur talking with the
Grangers in the Entrance Hall. ”Mum! Dad! I'm so glad you're finally here,” Hermione squealed. She launched
herself into her father’s arms, enormously happy her parents finally got to see the place she had lived and
studied in all those years. Hermione hugged her parents before Molly and Arthur hugged her in turn.

”How are you, son,” Mr Granger asked, shaking Ron’s hand.

”I'm fine, sir. It's pretty easygoing at the moment for the Aurors. Some legal expert in the Wizengamot is
preparing the trial for Mafalda. We might have to testify during that trial, but after her defeat, I guess dark
wizards are keeping a low profile.”

The Grangers had had the opportunity to learn more about the Wizarding world, thanks to the Weasleys, so
none of what Ron told them was entirely unfamiliar. Once all the pleasantries had been exchanged, Ron
shepherded them all into the Great Hall, past the Ravenclaw table, and to the Gryffindor table where they found
Harry and Ginny already waiting for them. After another round of hugs and handshakes, the hall began to settle
as Professor McGonagall stood to address the assembly.

”My dear students, family and friends. For seven years, you have studied here within the walls of this castle.
With your NEWT exams, your days at Hogwarts are coming to an end. Your years at this school have been
dramatic and turbulent, but I dare say that few have shown this school greater loyalty than you, and that
includes our DA Auror class. It is my firm belief that you are well-prepared for future endeavours, whatever they
may be. Some of you have already chosen and set out on your paths, but others are still considering. In any
case, although we, the staff and professor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are no long your
teachers, we are your friends. If there is anything we’ve learned over that past few years, it’s the value of
friendship.”

The assembly nodded at one another as they applauded the headmistress’ words. When the crowd quieted again,
Professor McGonagall, signaled for the Heads of Houses to stand. ”And now for the NEWTs.”

Professors Sprout, Flitwick, Slughorn and Hagrid stood, each with official-looking parchments in their hands.
Professor McGonagall began calling the seventh-years alphabetically to receive their results and diplomas from
their Heads of House and a handshake from the headmistress. Hermione fidgeted as she became more and more
nervous. Ginny, on the other hand, was quite relaxed, due in part from the waves of calm from Harry, and from
knowing that W fell at the end of the alphabet.

”Granger, Hermione,” Professor McGonagall called.

Hermione stood and walked tentatively toward the dais, with Ron whispering words of encouragement to her.
Behind the Heads stood the rest of the professors and staff, including Mr Filch and his cat, Mrs Norris. Was that a
smile Hermione noticed on Professor McGonagall's face? Hermione felt confused. As she reached Hagrid, he
cleared his throat.

”Err...'Ermione, Perfessor McGonagall asked ter say somethin' before I give yer this.”

Hermione turned to Professor McGonagall. Oh no, I'm the only one getting a T. ”There are many students in the
academic history of this school who have achieved amazing results. Miss Hermione Granger, you have taken
more classes than any other student this year, in fact than any student in many years. Coping with the strain of
attempting ten NEWT classes is something this school hasn't seen more than twice the last 100 years. Hermione,
you are the third. Your result equals what only one wizard ever has achieved. That wizard was our former
headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.”

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What? But didn't Professor Dumbledore earn... Professor McGonagall signaled for Hagrid, who had tears in his
eyes when he gave Hermione her diploma. Professor McGonagall spoke again.

”Hermione Granger earned herself no less than 10 NEWTs, with a top mark of Outstanding in every single one of
them,” the headmistress said with a tremble of emotion in her voice.

With that, Hagrid picked her up and placed her on his massive shoulder as the assembly broke out in wild
applause and cheers, rising in a standing ovation for Hermione’s rare academic success. Ron pumped the air with
his fist as he sprinted forward, tears flowing down his freckled face. Still seated on Hagrid’s shoulder, she opened
her diploma to gaze through her tears at her ten Os. She only just registered the applause and cheers of her
classmates, including Slytherin House, as Hagrid carefully put her down on the floor.

”I'm so proud of you Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall whispered to her.

Breathless and shocked, Hermione felt a physical jolt that turned out to be Ron embracing her. He carried her
back to the family in his strong arms, kissing her and saying, ”I told you so. I told you you’d be brilliant!” Rather
than put her down so she could take a seat, he sat down himself with her in his lap, his arms around her waist.

Their tablemates continued to applaud, but she was only partially aware of them congratulating her because she
was still caught up in the excitement of having achieved something only one other—a wizard—had ever
achieved. Mr and Mrs Granger and the Weasleys were crying from pride as they repeated their accolades over
and over.

”Way to go, Sis,” Harry called over the din. ”We knew if anyone could do something like that, you could!”
As Professor McGonagall proceeded through the roster of seventh-years, W came closer and closer. Ginny’s
nerves began to take hold, but Harry sensed it and sent her another wave of calm. Finally Professor McGonagall
called her name. ”Weasley, Ginevra!”

Ginny felt Harry give her a last gentle squeeze before letting go of her hand. She stepped forward to receive her
diploma from Hagrid. As he had done with Hermione, he picked Ginny up and placed her on his shoulder as the
assembly applauded her success as record breaking captain. When he put her down, Harry was waiting just as
Ron had been for Hermione. He took her in his arms and hugged her. Not to be outdone, Harry carried Ginny
back to the table too, and set her in his lap.

”Well, open it,” Molly urged her daughter. ”We want to see too!”

”Okay, Mum,” she said, fumbling with the ribbon. ”Don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Ginny finally unrolled the
scroll and looked at the parchment.

The first grade was an O in Defence Against the Dark Arts. In Potions, she was surprised to receive an E. The
rest of her NEWTs were As. Ginny had landed five NEWTs with a passing grade—a miracle beyond her dreams as
far as she was concerned. She passed her diploma to Harry first, and then both girls’ diplomas circulated through
the gathered family. Harry proudly kissed Ginny tenderly and passionately, knowing how hard she worked to
earn those marks.

”I’m so proud of you, Gin,” Harry whispered into her ear. ”I love you so much.”

”I love you too, Harry,” she replied. ”I couldn’t have done this without all your love and support. Thank you, my
one and only love.” Ginny leaned down to show him her appreciation in the form of a passionate kiss and a
massive wave of desire through the bond.

Between Hermione and Ron, it was hard to say who was the prouder of the two. Hermione at least seemed to
return to reality, but Ron continued to glow with pride and happiness for his beloved Hermione.

Once the last of the diplomas had been awarded, everyone's attention turned again to Professor McGonagall. ”To
friends and family, thank you for joining us today. You are welcome to stay for supper, which shall be served at
six o’clock. In the meantime, please feel free to tour the castle and grounds with your students.” She took her
seat amid the applause of the assembly, still beaming at her favourite students: Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley,
Hermione Granger, and Ginevra Weasley. Soon, these four would be married—Harry to Ginevra and Ron to
Hermione. Severus, Albus: they’ve come a long way, but they’ve arrived. By Merlin, they’ve arrived!

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Hermione and Ron spent the rest of the afternoon giving her parents the grand tour of Hogwarts castle and
grounds. They showed them the Gryffindor common room and the dormitories they slept in for six years. They
showed them Hagrid’s hut, the pumpkin patch, the greenhouses, and the Whomping Willow. Hermione even
goaded Ron into telling her parents the story about how he and Harry flew that old Ford Anglia to school and
crashed it into the massive tree at the beginning of their second year. It might not have been humourous at the
time, but as Ron told it, even he had to laugh at his and Harry’s adventures in flying.

Harry and Ginny relaxed in the grounds with Arthur and Molly. There was no need to give them a tour. They
were alumni. So they just sat by the lake and talked.

”How are your nerves with the wedding coming up,” Arthur asked them.

”So far, so good,” Ginny assured him. ”Since we’re already bonded, the wedding seems like more of a
confirmation of our bond. I don't think I can tell how much I want it to be the twenty-fourth.”

Harry agreed. He was already Ginny's for life. ”You know that’s less than two weeks away.”

”Harry, you’re right! Less than two weeks...” Ginny cuddled into him on the bench with her eyes twinkling.

”You are so sweet, dears,” Molly smiled.

”Molly, how are the plans for the wedding coming,” Harry asked.

”We’re all set, thank you,” Molly replied. Arranging Ginny's wedding had been a dream for Molly for many years.
Now, just a little more than two weeks before the big day, she had it all planned and most of it already
prepared.

The day passed quickly. After Arthur and Molly left, Harry and Ginny stayed up late staring into the fire on the
rug just talking and snuggling. When they finally climbed into their bed, they were the last awake in Hogwarts
castle. After a good snog, they lay in one another’s arms, too tired to do anything more. Ginny’s head rested on
Harry’s bare chest as she listened to his heartbeat. ”Harry, we haven't quite decided... where will we live?”

”Your mum’d curse us if we didn’t stay at the Burrow until the wedding. After that, we're going on our
honeymoon. After that...have your pick. We do own quite a number of places, you know,” Harry replied softly.”

”Where do you want to live?”

Harry had given that some thought. ”Not in Godric's Hollow. After visiting it, I don't really feel at home there,”
he said thoughtfully. ”Actually I had one idea. Remember all that land we own around Ottery-St Catchpole?
What if we build a home right there, not too far from the Burrow?”

Ginny felt a jolt in her body. Even if her parents wouldn't be more than a Floo or an Apparition away, wherever
they would live, she immediately felt she would love to remain in Ottery-St Catchpole. ”That would be...a
dream,” Ginny said kissing her wonderful Harry on his chest.

”It would be our home, Ginny. We can build it the way we want and make sure we can add more rooms
whenever we need them. I don't want to live in an inherited Potter or Black residence,” he said resolutely. ”I
want our home to be completely ours, lived in only by us.”

”Me either. Our own home. I love that, Harry, and I love you.”

Harry glanced down at Ginny. ”Do you think we could live at the Burrow until our home is ready?”
”Harry, both Mum and Dad would love having us there, you know that. It would probably only be for the summer
anyway.”

”All right then. We build,” he said, giving her a squeeze. ”Goodnight, Ginny Love.”

”Goodnight, my darling Harry.”

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When Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione arrived in the Great Hall for the feast, their favourite first-years were
there waiting for them. They hadn’t had much time with them since Harry and Ron went to work at the Ministry
and Ginny and Hermione had thrown themselves headlong into their NEWT studies.

”Munchkins,” Harry called, as Emma, Erica, and Patricia flew into his open arms. ”How’s my girls?”

”We missed you, Harry,” Emma cried. ”But we’ve been reading all about you in the Prophet. Everyone has!”

”Hey, where’s my hugs,” Ron asked with mock sadness on his face. ”Don’t I count?”

”Ron,” Erica cried and threw herself into his arms. ”We were so worried about you,” she said, holding on to his
waist for all she was worth.

”Well, I’m fine now,” he said. ”No worries. Nothing bad happened to me.”

”But Hermione...” Patricia said, hugging her favourite of the four. ”We thought you were going to...to...”

”Oh no, sweetheart,” Hermione said. ”I was just having a good sleep.” She winked at Ron.

”That’s right, Pat,” Ron said. ”She’d had a rough day one day, so she decided to take a long nap.”

”Mr Ron,” said a cracking Cockney voice. ”We ain’t babies. We know Miss ’Ermione was sick. It was in the ruddy
Prophet. But we’re glad she’s all righ’. We knew in our ’eart of ’earts that she would be, but we was worried jus’
the same.” Joseph turned to Harry. ”Are you really the ’Ead Auror, ’Arry?”

”Yes, I am. And Ron’s the Assistant ’Ead...er... Head,” Harry replied. ”His father’s our boss now too.”

”That’s keeping it all in the family, isn’t it,” Hermione said with a smirk.

”I think I’d like to be an Auror someday, meself,” Joseph said. ”Jus’ like you lot. You really did somethin’ when
you caught that Mafalda person. Right chuffed I am!”

Emma gazed at Joseph with pure adoration on her face. Even at the tender age of eleven, she knew she’d found
the man of her dreams. ”You really want to be an Auror like Harry, Ron, and Mr Finnegan, Joseph?”

”I do, Emma. I’d be the first in me ’ole family to go inta law enforcement,” he said, puffing out his chest.

”Then ye’ll need ta study hard, mate,” Seamus cut in. ”Ye’ll need to earn top marks in all yer classes, especially
Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions.”

”Then that’s wha’ I’ll do, Mr Finnegan, sir. An’ I’ll be catchin’ dark wizards righ’ along wif ya someday, I will,”
Joseph promised.

”Then we’re looking forward to having you on our team, Joseph,” Lavender declared. ”Right Harry?”

”Absolutely!”

The Aurors and the Munchkins chatted and caught up on all the news, congratulating Ginny on her Quidditch
victory with all the new records and exclaiming over Hermione’s NEWT. scores. Patricia had worked very hard to
make top grades so Hermione could be proud of her. She had earned Os in Defence Against the Dark Arts,
Potions, and Muggle Studies and Es in History of Magic, Charms, and Herbology.

”Well done, Patricia,” Hermione declared, hugging her. ”We Muggleborns can show them how it’s done, can’t
we?”

”Yes, but I have three Es I have to bring up so I can be like you, Hermione,” she said.

”I didn’t earn all Os my first year either. In fact, my Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL was an E,” Hermione

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reassured her.

”Yeah, and it was the end of the world as she knew it,” Ginny snorted. ”She cried.”

”Shut it, you,” Hermione said. ”You’ll do it. Just keep at it.”

”I will, Hermione. I’ll read up all summer and be ready for next term,” Patricia promised. ”Maybe I’ll be an Auror
too, like Lavender!”

”I’ve created a collection of monsters,” Harry said, slapping his palm to his forehead as they all had another
laugh.

The Hall had filled up as the students assembled one last time. Professor McGonagall called the student body to
order to award House points. ”In fourth place, with 350 points, Slytherin House; in third place with 360 points,
Hufflepuff House; in second place, with 400 points, Ravenclaw House; in first place with 500 points and the
House Quidditch Cup, Gryffindor House! Well done, Gryffindors! Well done!” She clapped her hands twice as
Professor Dumbledore had always done and the Great Hall was suddenly festooned with banners and draperies
in the Gryffindor colours of red and gold. Gryffindor’s lion roared from the banners overhead, as the student
body applauded the winning house.

Ginny’s heart swelled with enormous pride as she led her team forward to receive the House Quidditch Cup.
They had been given individual trophies the day they won the last game, but tonight’s was the formal
presentation. Lifting it over her head, facing the Gryffindor table filled her with joy and a bit of sadness knowing
this part of her life was coming to an end. One look at Harry cleared that right away. Her new life was going to
be even better, she knew that. Getting married, building a home, and playing Quidditch with her beloved
Harpies. What could be better?

Soon all the awards had been presented and Professor McGonagall called for quiet. ”Another year at Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has come to an end. This has been a remarkable year in many ways. For me
personally, it was my first as headmistress; for this school, its rebirth after the destruction of the war; for some
of you, the last one; and others the first of a seven-year journey.” Professor McGonagall paused to allow the
student body their applause.

”We have also had the pleasure of hosting Dumbledore's Army as they trained here in a rather unique
arrangement. These eight students are now trained and fully-fledge Aurors, led by Head Auror Harry Potter and
Assistant Head Auror Ronald Weasley.” She paused again to allow the student body to applaud. But before she
could continue, the DA stood and assembled together in front of the dais, intending to honour their
headmistress. Unbeknownst to Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Dennis Creevey, and a few of the other original
members stood and sneaked up behind them to wait for the command.

”DA,” Harry barked. They all snapped to attention. ”Salute!” As one, they raised their wands to their faces and
dropped them to their sides in one precision movement. The student body went wild, while tears streamed down
Professor McGonagall’s face.

”Face,” Harry barked again. They all made an about face to the assembly. Harry about fell over at the sight of
Ginny, Hermione, Dennis, and the others standing there with them. ”Salute!” They repeated the salute.
”Dis-missed,” Harry barked and they returned to their places at their house tables. That sneaky little minx. I
wish Neville could’ve been here...and Colin...and Fred.

Once the applause died down again, Professor McGonagall rose once more, still dabbing at her eyes with a lace
handkerchief. ”And now, let us end this year with a glorious feast prepared by our loyal house elves.”

Ron looked at all the food that had appeared on the table. ”This I will miss the most,” he said digging in.

Harry smiled, enjoying the delicious dishes, including his favourite treacle tart.

The next morning, it was with mixed emotions that Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione walked out of the Entrance
Hall toward the main gate for the last time as students. To their surprise the centaurs, the house elves, and the
staff were all standing there, waiting to act as a sort of Honour Guard to accompany the four of them to
Hogsmeade Station. Harry and his friends were perfectly speechless and not a word was spoken among them or
their entourage. The only sound was the sweet twitter of a songbird somewhere in the trees.

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Slowly, they walked out towards the gates hand-in-hand, nodding at those they knew. The silent homage
touched them deeply, for they never expected anything like it. The line of people and magical creatures
continued and behind them, the staff followed the students and Aurors, trailing out half way between the castle
and the gates. This was a final tribute to the four of them in recognition of their great accomplishments and
loyalty to the school.

The procession arrived at Hogsmeade to a throng of townspeople waiting on the platform. There were no
cheers—just silent tears of gratitude. Aurors Dawlish, Thompson, Smith, and Collins—all who were left of the
Senior Auror staff—saw to their trunks, Crookshanks’ basket, and Pig’s cage. They escorted their Chief, their
Assistant Chief, and their ladies onto the scarlet and black train and into a compartment before the other
students were allowed to board. Except for muttered thank yous, still not a word had passed anyone’s lips.

Ginny and Hermione cried softly into Harry’s and Ron’s shoulders. Harry and Ron tried to blink back their own
tears, but the solemnity of the entire affair touched them too deeply. Finally, Ron broke the silence as he
sniffled and wiped his eyes. ”That was... emotional.” The other three nodded, wiping at their eyes.

Once the Aurors left the train, the other students began to climb aboard, dragging trunks and animal cages in
tow. The four honourees in the compartment slowly began to realise how quiet it still was. It should have been a
cacophony of students passing between the cars, stowing their gear, and settling into compartments. Theirs had
been sealed against noise and intrusion and it was just too surreal for them. Hermione drew her wand and
whispered, ”Finite,” and their compartment filled with the muffled sounds of the chaos that would punctuate the
end of their magical education.

”So,” Harry said brightly, reaching into the a pocket of his Auror’s robes. ”Anyone up for a game of Exploding
Snap?” The four of them burst into laughter as Ron conjured a table between their seats. Harry shuffled the
deck and distributed the cards to begin the game that they had made part of their year-end tradition on the
homeward-bound Hogwarts Express.

”I’m going to miss this,” Ginny said, snuggling into Harry’s shoulder. ”This train... Hogwarts... our friends...” The
nostalgia had stricken all of them, but Ginny gave it voice. She choked down a sob and blinked back stinging
tears. She hated to cry, especially in front of Harry.

”Yeah,” Ron agreed. ”This is really ’it’ for us, isn’t it?”

Hermione had begun to sniffle again as she climbed into Ron’s lap and began to sob. She realised, as did the
others, that this was just one more rite of passage in their lives, and in less than a week, Harry and Ginny would
pass through another. Soon Ginny crawled into Harry’s lap and they all sat there for the last hour of their
journey back to King’s Cross Station just holding one another as their emotions washed over them.

Soon, the Hogwarts Express began to slow and their tears began to come again in earnest. Finally, the train
came to a stop at Platform 9 ¾. The Senior Aurors escorted the four friends off the train and into the waiting
arms of their family.

”Welcome home, dears,” Molly said with tears glistening in her eyes. ”We’re all so proud of you.” She drew them
all into tearful hugs as she and her husband helped them with their trunks and animals. This was the last time
Molly and Arthur Weasley would meet the Hogwarts Express for any of their seven-plus-two children, and, it
would be many years before they would see another of their own flesh and blood onto that train to Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

A/N I hope you enjoy. A teaser for the next chapter: It will be about the wedding.

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Chapter 23: Old Ogden's opened


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Chapter 23 - Old Ogden’s Opened

On the twenty-first of June, Harry and Ron returned to the Ministry and their offices. They had rarely made an
appearance during the NEWT weeks, so there was a considerable pile of little parchment airplanes all over the
place to organise and either answer, file, or bin. They’d managed to remove the wall that separated their offices.
Although not part of their plan, an accordion divider had been built into the wall in case they needed it. All they
would need to do is pull the divider closed and cast a silencing charm.

”I was afraid of this,” Harry sighed, surveying the heap of wrecked parchment aeroplanes.

”Most of it is probably rubbish,” Ron said, choosing one to read. ”This one notifies all Ministry employees that
Form 42-A-47 had been replaced with Form 42-B-47.

”Is there another one informing all Ministry employees what the ruddy form is for,” Harry asked as he began to
sort through the litter.

”Probably somewhere...” Ron grinned, tossing crumpled aircraft into piles.

They both sighed and set to the boring task of sorting through the mess, creating two parchment mountains.
The job had become so wretchedly tedious that they created their own low-level dogfight reminiscent of the
Battle of Britain. They were laughing like schoolboys before their fun was interrupted when Arthur stuck his
head in.

”Harry, I really hate to impose, what with the wedding on Thursday and all, but there’s an emergency. You and
Ron are the only Aurors in the office right now, so this falls to the two of you,” he said, darting his eyes back
and forth between them.

”What’s going on,” Harry asked. Harry couldn’t imagine what all the fuss could be about. Since Mafalda had been
taken into custody, life had been rather quiet.

”One of my Squads reported activity at Mafalda’s London flat. Check it out, but be careful,” Arthur said gravely.

”No worries, Dad. We'll be careful,” Ron promised. ” Let’s check it out.” Harry and Ron left their shared office
and jogged to the lifts, pursued by another airbourne armada. Once they reached the atrium, they Disapparated
to the flat.

”Ron, we're taking no chances on this one, all right?” Harry’s question sounded more like a statement than a
question. He’d already lost two of his best men and had seen a few more seriously injured. He couldn’t afford to
lose any more, especially his best friend.

Ron nodded his agreement but looked pale when Harry produced several stunbombs. ”How many of those did I
give you,” Ron asked.

”I get them from George when I need them,” Harry explained. ”Seven in one throw should have a potent and
lasting effect.” Seven in one throw, seven in one blow. Why does that sound familiar?

”Harry...” Ron hesitated.

”Don't worry. We stun whoever’s in there and if it's Muggles, we modify their memories later on.”

”Sure... but there are Muggles in other flats too,” Ron argued.

”Oh, right,” Harry said, casting a silencing charm.

”Bombarda!” Harry blew the door off its hinges and tossed a handful of the stunning bombs into the flat.
Moments after they detonated, Harry and Ron charged through with wands drawn. The stunners had the desired
effect, but also stirred up a heavy cloud of dust. Suspects lay on the floor.

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”Aurors! You’re all under arrest,” Harry commanded. ”Don’t move!”

No one moved. ”Harry,” Ron began nervously, ”what if those stunners were too strong?”

Harry kicked the first body lightly and it moaned. ”They're alive. Let's see if it's anyone we know.” Harry was
quite satisfied with the effect seven stunners had, but stared in shock as he turned the first suspect over.

”Percy? What in Merlin's most Boggart-infested broom closet are you doing here?” Ron looked stiffly at Harry.
”Ron, what is it? I'm sure Percy isn't a Death Eater,” Harry reasoned, moving carefully to the next suspect, his
wand still tightly gripped in his fist. ”Ron, move, dammit! Disarm them! This stunner won't last much longer.”

Harry turned the next one over. ”Finnegan?” Harry again stared at Ron whose face had turned red as beet-root,
causing Harry’s hackles to rise. ”Ron? What’s wrong with you?”

Ron could no longer contain himself. ”I'm sorry, Harry. We’ll haunt you forever with this... for Merlin's sake,
wake those poor bastards up.”

”Ron?” Has the man finally gone round the twist?

”Harry, you overzealous prat! This is your ruddy Stag night!” Ron had doubled over with laughter trying not to
wet himself at the look on his best friend’s face.

Harry checked on the next ”suspect,” and found a very disoriented Neville Longbottom, who lay next to an
equally disoriented George Weasley.

”But it’s only ten-thirty...” Harry said mostly to himself, realising that he'd been set up. ”Arthur was in on this
wasn't he? Sending us here…”

”… where all your friends waited for you, but Dad’s act appears to have been a bit too convincing, I’m afraid,”
Ron said, still snickering and wiping his eyes.

Harry blushed so red, he glowed. Ron had set this up to get his Stag night off with a bang, but it had gone up in
smoke when Harry barged in and stunned them all. Harry burst into laughter and set to waking them all up,
apologising profusely.

Soon, the stunned stags consisting of Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, Neville, Seamus, Tony, Terry, and Oliver
Wood, had been ennervated and helped to their feet. Harry had to explain his and Ron's arrival, and despite that
they were pretty shook up from the stunners, everyone assured Harry that no harm had been done and they all
had a good laugh.

”How many of those damned things did you throw at us, Harry,” George moaned.

”Uh... seven,” Harry mumbled, blushing hot pink.

”Remind me never to take an Auror by surprise,” Neville grinned, rubbing his forehead, ”especially if that Auror
is Harry bles-sed Potter!”

”Neville, mate, I'm so sorry, but I thought you were Death Eaters. It's so great to see you. Been back long,”
Harry gushed apologetically.

”Nah, got back yesterday, just for this,” Neville replied. ”Wait ’til I tell Hannah! She’ll die laughing!”

Bill checked on the case of Firewhiskey in the middle of the room. ”Thank Merlin your bombs didn't blast Ogden's
Old,” he said with a wink as he raised a bottle and opened it. ”Charlie, do the honors.”

”My pleasure, Big Bro,” Charlie said, conjuring eleven glasses and filling each one.

”Harry, as the oldest one here, I propose a toast for the most stunning beginning a Stag night ever had.
Slaínte!”

Everyone laughed and repeated, ”Slaínte!”

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”Pardon my ignorance,” Oliver said directly to Bill, ”but what the bloody hell is Slaínte?”

”It’s Gaelic for health,” Bill replied. ”It can also be paired with Mhath, which means good. Slaínte Mhath!”

This was all news to Harry. He’d just never had the nerve to really ask what it meant because if it was a
Weasley tradition, it was a good thing and it just didn’t matter. Still, it was nice to know what he was saying.

Ginny had gone back to bed after Harry left for the Ministry, but she rose at nine o’clock to have breakfast with
her mother. At ten-thirty, there was a knock at the door and Hermione stepped through. ”There you are, Gin!”

”Good morning Hermione,” Ginny smiled ”What's up?”

”I have fitting appointment today at Madame Malkin’s. With all the fuss and fury with NEWTs, I’d almost
forgotten about it,” Hermione told her, biting her lip. She wasn’t good at lying, although she’d pulled off some
real whoppers in her day. ”I really wish you’d come along. After all, it's your wedding.”

Ginny hesitated for a few moments and then looked back up at her friend. ”Sure. I have nothing planned and
Harry had to go to the Ministry to excavate his desk. He fears it's buried in internal memos.”

Hermione smiled. ”I know. Ron's there too. He’s always grousing that those ruddy memos are like Glumbumbles
on nettles.” She puffed out her chest and tried to imitate his rumbling chest-voice, which melted her like a hot
knife through butter. But the real turn-on for her was when they’d have one of their signature rows and his
shouts would roll like thunder through the air as his sapphire eyes flashed lightning. Chills ran down her spine
just thinking about it.

”That’s my Ronnie, all right,” Molly said with a giggle. ”He, Bill, and Charlie are my booming blusterers. Go on,
Ginny. Get dressed so you can go. You don’t want to make Hermione late!”

Ginny rose from the table and ran up the stairs while her mother and her friends watched her. As soon as she
heard the shower running, Hermione leaned in toward her future mother-in-law and the two chatted in low
voices until Ginny came bounding down the stairs about thirty minutes later.

”Ginny, Madame Malkin was kind enough to drop her wards so we could Apparate right into the shop. She felt
bad about what happened to you and Molly that day with Rita Skeeter and the reporters. You can side-along
with me.”
I have got to set and appointment for my license. ”That’s fine, Hermione,” Ginny said turning to Molly. ”I guess
we'll be gone for a few hours, Mum. Do you need us to pick anything up while we’re in Diagon Alley?”

”No, dear. I’m fine. Have fun,” Molly said, winking at Hermione.

”We’re off then,” Hermione said as Ginny took her arm. Crack! They were gone.

Instead of in a fitting room at Madame Malkin’s, Ginny found herself standing at the centre of the Harpies home
Quidditch pitch. Luna, Angelina, Fleur, Hannah, Gwenog, and Harpies keeper Gwyneth stood around her in a
circle.

”Wha...” Ginny began, turning to Hermione, who stood there laughing with the others. ”You convincingly lying
prat-woman! I ought to Bat-Bogey you!” Ginny grinned, realising this was her Hen night.

”I know it's not exactly night, but we thought it would fun to begin with a friendly game of Quidditch,” Gwenog
said, hugging her newest Chaser.

Angelina provided them all with a glass of Firewhiskey. ”I know it's not exactly the rule to have a toast before a
game, but today we toast Ginny...and dare I say, our victory?”

”Of course!” Gwenog raised her glass. ”As we say here in Wales...Iechyd da!”

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”Iechyd da!” they all replied and drank.

Ginny looked around. ”What’s Iechyd da? Our family say Slaínte.”

”Same thing, Ginny,” Gwenog replied.

”Oh. So...uh...just who exactly are we playing,” Ginny asked. ”There aren’t enough of us...”

Hermione checked her watch. ”Oh, they should be arriving just about...now!”
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! The tell-tale sound of Apparition filled the air not three seconds after Hermione's countdown.
It was the boys with a blindfolded Harry. ”Is that really necessary,” Ginny asked, looking at Harry with a stab of
sympathy.

”Oh yes,” George said. ”And there's a silencing charm on him too. Your mental fiancée almost put us all in St
Mungo's! Payback, this is!” George told the Hens the story of how Harry had blown the door off the flat they had
been waiting in and stunned them all. The others exploded into fits of laughter, but Ginny held her head high
and proud.

”What did you expect, sending Harry against potential Death Eaters? I say you had it coming! Ron, was this your
insanely whacked-out idea?”

Ron blushed. ”Partially. But Dad and Bill were willing participants.”

The boys decided that it was time for Harry to return to the sensory world, so Ron lifted the silencing charm and
removed the blindfold. Harry blinked, and once he had adjusted to the light and had his glasses returned to him,
not even being on a Quidditch pitch seemed to distract him from Ginny. In two strides, he captured her in an
embrace, pulling her tight against him. ”Hey, Gorgeous Girl,” he said into her mouth as he claimed her lips in a
mind-blowing kiss that left her stunned a bit herself.

”Oi, you two! Save it for the honeymoon,” Gewnog snorted, pulling them apart.

”Too right! This is strictly business,” Ron agreed. Harry and Ginny looked quizzically and not a little dubiously at
Ron and Hermione as they clung to one another. ”As we all know, both Harry and Ginny love Quidditch. We
have all had one for the game, and the rules are simple. The team scoring the most points wins. Hens against
Stags,” Ron declared.

”The Holyhead Harpies have been kind enough to lend us their pitch and a load of Nimbus 2001s still in pretty
fair shape, or so I'm told,” Hermione added. Despite her vast general knowledge of the sport, Hermione made it
no secret that Quidditch was not her thing. ”Ginny and Harry are the team captains. Each team has thirty
minutes to prepare.”

Harry was thrilled to play Quidditch again. It had been too long. A Nimbus 2001 was a good broom, although
compared to his Firebolt, it was slower and less manoeuvreable, but since all the players would fly one, the
match would be interesting, to say the least.

Ginny mentally evaluated the boys. Oliver was a professional Keeper and Harry, Ron, George, Charlie and Bill
were all good players by Hogwarts standards. Neville's, Seamus', Terry's and Tony's skills were unknown. That
added up to a team of six former Gryffindor players with a seventh relatively inexperienced.

Harry had done some sizing-up of his own and considered the possibilities based on his conclusions. ”All right,
mates,” Harry said to his team. ”Ginny’ll play Seeker. She’ll want the other two professionals in their usual
spots—Gwyneth as Keeper and Gwenog as Beater. Angelina will have to do the hard work as Chaser, trying to
work with...Luna and Hannah. Hermione’s sure to be the second Beater.”

”Are you sure,” Ron asked.

”Yes, Ron. You, of all people, know how Hermione flies. Ginny’ll count on Gwenog, and she is among the best
Beaters in the league, so watch out for her. Ginny knows I'm out of shape, but there's no one else she’ll think
has a chance as Seeker.” I’ll be seeking all right.

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”Harry will, of course, play Seeker,” Ginny said to her team. ”Oliver’s a professional Keeper, so Harry’ll have him
guarding the rings. Charlie’s out of shape, but like Harry, he’s a natural talent, so stay on him. He’ll play Chaser
with Seamus and Terry. Ron and George’ll be the Beaters.” And I’ll keep Harry busy...one way or another.

Soon the teams were set and both Harry and Ginny had guessed right. With professional Keepers, both teams
would be strong in that position. None of the boys had ever played Chaser, but with a talented Charlie among
them and an ever-tenacious Seamus, it was hard to say whether or not they’d be stronger than the girls.
Angelina had experience, but she had two unproven players beside her. For Beaters, Gwen was as good as
Hermione was bad. The girls’ team had, in reality, one Beater, but an extremely good one. The boys had George
and Ron, both good, but George was the better of the two since Ron usually played Keeper, and both of them
were out of shape. Overall, it would be an even game, as most of them believed the real fight would come down
to Harry and Ginny to settle the score.

To Harry's and Ginny's surprise, their family and friends had arrived and sat in the grandstands, with Hagrid
towering above everyone else. Fleur, Neville and Tony joined them there, as they both declined reserve spots
since neither was fond of flying. Hermione looked longingly at them and wished she could join them. She really
hated flying, but this game was for Harry and Ginny.

Madame Hooch had agreed to referee the match and had a merry gleam in her ice blue hawk-like eyes. ”All
right, I want a nice clean game from all of you—and no messing up your wedding, Seekers. Remember, it's just
a game,” Madame Hooch told them.

”Sure,” Ginny said grinning seductively at Harry. She licked her lips and blew him a kiss. He gave her wicked
grin and snapped at her with his teeth as if to bite her. ”You’re going down, Potter,” Ginny snarled playfully.

”You wish, Weasley,” Harry growled back.

Madame Hooch blew a short blast on her whistle and released the Snitch. Moments later, fourteen players
kicked off and rose into the air as the referee tossed the Quaffle. The Chasers soon found it difficult to play.
They faced good Beaters in Gwenog and George, and the Keepers played masterfully. Despite her limited flying
skills, Hermione proved to be a fair Beater once she got the hang of flying and swinging her bat. The biggest
surprise was Luna, who flew like the wind around the Stags. Harry enjoyed every second of this game. He really
missed Quidditch, but he knew that once Ginny got started with the Harpies, he would be able watch many of
her games.

An hour into the game, the score stood at a mere 40-30 to the Hens. The Snitch was nowhere to be found.
Ginny and Harry each tried to sucker one other in, but to no avail. ”Gin, don't even bother. I can feel that you
haven't seen the Snitch,” Harry called. The bond made it impossible for them to trick each other. After almost
another hour, the score had shifted to a tight 80-100 to the Stags. All of a sudden, Ginny saw a hint of gold
flitting around the middle ring. Harry saw it too, and a moment later, they both dove toward it at full speed.

Side by side, the lovers gained on the Snitch, but as Harry stretched out his arm to close his fingers around it,
he saw something approaching at a high rate of speed—a Bludger. Harry hesitated for a second, giving Ginny
the advantage. She took the opportunity and caught the Snitch. She looked up to see who had sent the Bludger
Harry’s way, to find a whooping Hermione waving her bat. The Hens won the match by a score of 230-100. After
a victory lap, the Hens landed at the center of the pitch to join the Stags.

”Congratulations, Hens,” a sweaty Harry said.

”Stags, better luck next time,” Ginny said, grinning devilishly.

The Hen team celebrated Hermione’s great shot, carrying her on their shoulders. None of the boys was upset
about having lost, at least not much, and thanked the girls for a good game. Ron beamed proudly at Hermione
for distracting Harry with that Bludger, despite the fact that she’d whacked the ruddy thing in self-defence. That
woman never ceases to amaze me.

As the teams moved off toward the locker rooms, Harry and Ginny took the opportunity to engage in a brief
snog. ”Hmm... I love getting sweaty with you,” Harry said, nibbling at her sensitive spot behind her ear.

”Uh huh. Me too... umm, Harry,” Ginny said breathily into his ear.

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”Mmm hmm...” he answered, kissing his way up her neck to her mouth. Before she could speak, his tongue had
slipped between her partially opened lips.

”I love you... but aren’t we being a bit rude,” she asked, breathing in his scent.

”How are we being... ummm... rude, Gin,” Harry whispered as the heat began to build between them.

”Ummm... well, our friends... oh that’s... mmm... have planned this... special... day and...” she couldn’t finish.
Her head spun as her knees began to buckle under his caresses.

”...and we... should be... joining them,” Harry finished.

Ginny pulled away, albeit reluctantly. ”Yes, Love. We can pick this up later, okay?”

”Is that a promise,” Harry asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

”Well... the losing captain must have his consolation prize…if he’s a good boy,” Ginny purred.

”Oh? And what’s my consolation prize,” Harry asked suggestively.

”You’ll see,” she cooed, tracing his lips with her fingers.

”And if I’m a bad boy?”

“I’d have to…punish you,” she said, flicking her tongue across his lips.

”Hmm...I’ll have to consider my options then, won’t I,” Harry mused, brushing her lips with his.

”Yes, you will. Now, we have friends waiting for us,” she said pulling away. They made their way to the locker
rooms and stopped for one more kiss before they parted for the evening.

After all of them had showered, including Harry, Ron gathered the Stags together. ”Since I’m the bloke who
planned this day, does anybody have any doubt as to what’s next on the agenda?”

”Food,” George asked hopefully.

”Of course,” Ron smiled. ”But first, another round of Old Ogden’s, to drown our sorrows.” I’ll be drowning my
sorrows with Hermione later on.

”Good a reason as any,” Harry shrugged. ”Bottoms up!”

The boys ended up on the first floor above George's shop in Diagon Alley. When they arrived, Kreacher was just
finishing up dinner preparations.

”Kreacher, I never told you to help Ron with my Stag night.”

”No, Master Harry did not. But Kreacher is wanting to help Master Ron,” the Elf replied with a bow.

”You did this because you wanted to,” Harry asked. Kreacher nodded tentatively with a grin pasted across his
wrinkled face. ” Doing what you want, Kreacher. That’s good.”

”Kreacher serves Harry Potter and his Ginny gladly, since they is being so kind to old Kreacher, sir,” he said with
another bow. ”You is Kreacher’s friends.”

The dinner was magnificent and with it, several rounds of Firewhiskey were served. The Stags were feeling the
effects of the copious amounts of alcohol they had ingested by now. Still another round would be poured as Ron
rose in his inebriated state to toast the groom for at least the fiftieth time that night.

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”Harry, m’friend ’n' brother,” Ron began. He wobbled a bit and would have toppled over if Seamus and Terry
hadn’t held him up. ” You’re puh-prinches anumm... agunn... Thanksh. Ha-Harry, you proved yourself a worthy
Error... Auror...knocking all of our distingersh... distin... honoured guesht out with the stunning buh-bombs. You
proved to be a gent-gentleman by letting the girls win today...” Ron belched loudly, sending the Stags into fits of
drunken merriment.

”Ge-get on with it, We-weasley so you-you can sit down before-before you fa-fall down,” Neville cried, spilling
his drink on his shirt. ”Bollucks!”

”No worries, mate,” Charlie shouted as he staggered over to Neville to refill his glass. ”There’s more where this
came from!”

”Thanksh, Chuck,” Neville said. ”You’re a real-real mate, you kno-know that?”

”Anytime, Nevvy, ol’ man. Anytime!”

”Hey, you ruddy toss-tossers,” Harry called. ”Ron-Ron’s singin’ my bloody pra-praises. Let-let the man speak!”

Ron raised his glass toward his friend and continued. ”... and now you’ll have the op... pop... chance to prove
yerself a poten...topen...a good husband by clearing this ruddy mess. Slaínte Mhath!”

They all threw back their heads and emptied their glasses. Harry had to take care of the table while the others
headed downstairs for perusal and demonstrations of the latest additions to George's stock. One he was able to
steady himself, Harry surveyed the table. This looks like a bloody battlefield! He had no desire to clean all of it up
by himself, at least not tonight, and not in his present condition.

Against his better judgment, which was at best impaired, Harry tried a new way of cleaning. He planted his feet
shoulder-width apart—mostly for balance—and flicked his wand at the table and everything on it, muttering
something that sounded like Reducio, shrinking it all. Then he cast a few random transfiguration and shrinking
charms on it. Carefully as he could, he levitated the mess to the sink and dropped it in, and then splashed it
with water and cast a few cleaning charms. Satisfied with his work, he left it where it was to dry. He stumbled
into the sitting room just as the others returned.

”Where in Merlin's curs-ed mother-in-law's name is my table,” George asked in alarm.

Harry nodded towards the kitchen. George staggered into the kitchen for a look and soon returned.

”Harry, did you transfinger my table?”

”I shrunk it, but I might be a little off... I could have made a mistake,” Harry confessed. ”I’ve had a few drinks
tonight. It’s all Ickle Ronnikins’ fault, you know.” Harry wavered and collapsed into a chair with a sheepish grin.

”Too right you did! You turned it all into soap! It's all melted in the water. I can probably have a bubble bath
every day for a month,” George said trying to sound offended.

”C'mon George. Take them baths with Angelina and you’ll prob’ly thank Harry for it,” Bill said with a belch.
Everyone laughed and the evening continued with more Firewhiskey getting them all, for the occasion, properly
pissed.

After the game, Hermione brought Ginny and the girls to Shell Cottage. Molly had agreed to take care of
Victoire, allowing Fleur to join in the Hen night festivities. After a few rounds of Firewhiskey and Fleur's cooking,
the girls were giggling about everything as they swam in a couple bottles of French wine.

”All right you girls. It's time for spin the bottle, Hen style,” Hermione declared, waving a bottle of Firewhiskey.

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”What the ruddy hell is that,” Ginny asked.

”Does it include getting pissed,” Gwen asked with a snort.

”Gwen, yes...” Hermione answered.

”Fair 'nough, less do it...” Gwen said with glee.

”So I have this bottle of dear Ogden's Old,” Hermione explained. ”I spin it and the one it points at takes a sip
and then answers a question truthfully. Got it?”

”Spin, drink, answer...” Hannah repeated. ”Got it.”

Hermione nodded and spun the bottle and it pointed at herself. Hermione pulled out the cork with her teeth and
spat it away, earning really surprised gasps from them all. Hermione had never been known as a party girl, and
certainly could never be accused of being particularly crude, but tonight, she was in rare form. She took a really
big gulp, coughed, and put back the cork.

”I must know this, 'Mione. Did you really think you would get a T,” Ginny asked.

Hermione looked at her still feeling the immediate effect of the Firewhiskey. ”I did... walking up to receive that
diploma, I really did.”

The bottle spun several more times, and before long it was empty. By the third bottle, everyone was properly
smashed. They were also happy because no matter the question, few, if any of them, would remember the
answer tomorrow. The bottle spun and stopped in front of Fleur. She uncorked it and took a very unladylike
slug.

”Flewer,” Ginny slurred, ”'bout French...kisshing...yer that shexual...really? The French, I mean.”

Fleur blushed a little. ”Oui, ze ones I know...” she answered. ”Very pash’nate...” Fleur gave a heavy nod and
giggle.

The bottle spun again, this time pointing to Ginny, who uncorked it and took a huge gulp, wiping her lips with
her sleeve.
”Gin... how-how many boysh di' yer ever kiss,” Luna asked, her head wobbling on her long neck.

Ginny looked at her, raising a number of fingers. ”Mikey... Corner... Dean... Thomas... Harry... Potter...” she
counted. Ginny held up six fingers. She stared mistrusting them, trying to focus. ”When d' I get twelve fin'rsh,”
she wondered aloud. ”Hermy. Fix my fin'rsh.”

Hermy,” Hermione asked. ”My name is Hermy'nee!”

All the others looked at Hermione who tried to hold up an air of propriety in her best insufferable know-it-all
way. Fleur collapsed on the floor, soon after Gwen, and then the rest, all of them clutching their sides. ”Oh what
was eet Veektor called you,” Fleur cried, fanning herself. “’Er... ’Erm...own...”

Ginny began to wave her hands around and attempt to knit her brows together. ”I...I know! It...it
wash...um...Her-mee-own-ninny!”

”Oui! Zat was eet, Geeny! ’Er-mee-own-neenee,” Fleur shrieked and the women fell all over themselves. Even
Hermione had to laugh. She’d tried almost their entire fourth year to teach him to say it right, but his thick
Slavic accent wouldn’t allow it.

Harry head spun. Trying to stand up straight, he cast his blurry eyes at Bill, who had clanged his glass for their
attention. ”Boysh. We...need... revenge...”

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”Huh,” Charlie grunted. ”Whaffor? ’Gainsh who?”

”For losing that game, ya ruddy sod,” Bill clarified. ”An' I know where them galsh are.”

Bill stood—or rather wavered—in silence. He seemed to expect cheering, while the others seemed eager to learn
where the girls were.

”Yeah? Where ish that nest of Quiddish-play-playing birdsh?”

”Schnell Cottage!”

”Ha-Harry... d' ya have more o' them bombsh? I'm out o’ shtock...” George asked hopefully.

”Only two...” Harry said, fishing through his robes, now stained with food and alcohol. ”Here they are.” Harry
triumphantly held up the stunners as though they were Snitches he had caught in a Quidditch World Cup game.

”Less throw 'em through the Floo,” Ron suggested. I can ravish ’Mione while she’s stunned.

Everyone cheered except Neville. ”Won' the galsh sushpect us,” he asked, blinking innocently.

”It'll be fun... c'monarry,” Ron encouraged him.

Harry took another manly gulp of Firewhiskey and stumbled to the fireplace. He threw a handful of Floo powder
in and called, ”Swell Cottage!”

A green fire lit and Harry threw the two stunbombs in and then ran for it, snorting and chuckling, toward his
by-now Neanderthal-like friends. The green fire vanished.

Seamus watched the fireplace, trying to focus on it. ”Thass all,” he said in a disappointed tone.

”We bett'r go there...” Bill chuckled, ”ta wash the show!”

Luna was blushing from her question when suddenly, green fire whooshed in the grate and moments later, two
objects came through, detonating with a sharp bang! All the girls were stunned and momentarily disoriented. In
their general state, they lost their balance and fell to the floor.

The bunch of inebriated human primates Flooed to Shell Cottage laughing like hyenas, where they found the
girls on the floor. ”Shhh, lads,” Seamus yelled. ”We might su'prise 'em.”

”Smooth, Irish. Very smooth. And so quiet too...” Ron snorted, nudging him.

They noticed the full body of Hens staring at them cross-eyed from too much Firewhiskey, wine and stunning
bombs. ”Havin' a blast, ladies,” Charlie grinned.

Hermione stood up on shaky legs with her wand drawn. ”What brainless Logtrodyte... Godlotryte...” Hermione
took a deep breath, regaining her balance.”Troglodyte... threw that blasted thing in here?”

”That would be Harry, the Boy-Who-Heaved,” Percy confessed, while the rest of the Troglodytes nodded in
agreement, applauding him appreciatively.

”Well done, mate,” Tony called.

”Right spiffing, old chap,” George added.

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”Ruddy well brilliant, Harry,” Neville cried.

Harry made a sweeping bow like an actor taking his curtain-call, proud of his grand achievement. ”Thank you,
thank you. Thank you.”

”’Mione, Love,” Ron asked. ”Are you drunk?”

”I am not drunk...” she started, having to side-step to remain upright. She stared fixedly at her wand, trying to
remember why she drew it. Tucking it away clumsily, she declared, ”I... my dear Weanald Rolius Bilsey...am
smashed.” With that, Hermione fell right back into the sofa smiling lovingly up at her fiancé. She held her arms
open inviting Ron to join her.

”Why Hermione Jean Granger, you little witch!” He leaned down and picked her up, giggling, and plopped down
with her in his lap. She threw her arms around his neck and they engaged in a very inebriated snog right there
on the sofa.

Ginny had eyes only for Harry and threw herself onto him with very uninhibited French kisses.

”Oi... there'd be brothers here, Ginny...” Neville observed.

”They're free to leave...” Ginny said and kissed him again. ”I love you, Harry.”

”Thass right, Nev,” Hannah said, snaking her arms around her husband’s neck. ”We’re free to... leave.” Hannah
raised up on her tiptoes and drew Neville into a very hot kiss as he ran his hands down her sides, grabbing on to
her hips and pulling her close.

”Lucky me,” Harry replied, smiling into Ginny’s mouth. ”I guess I’ve been a... uh... bad boy... tonight, yeah?”

”Yes, you have, Harry James Potter. I warned you I’d have to punish you,” Ginny purred, drawing his bottom lip
into her mouth and biting it.

”C'mon you two, save it for the ruddy honeymoon,” Gwenog told them. ”There'd be singles 'ere too, who are not
getting shagged tonight.” That made the two lovebirds break apart sheepishly.

Soon, the long day and heavy drinking made them all head for a bed. Fleur was sober enough, or rather not too
drunk, to give everyone a potion. ”Eet will eez zee 'angover, an' meeneemize ze vomiting.”

Harry and Ginny were more or less shoved into one of the spare rooms, while Fleur and Bill headed for their
bedroom. The others made themselves as comfortable as possible in the quite overcrowded cottage. Hermione
conjured a mattress for Ron and herself. The sofa, the floor, and the kitchen table were other refuges for the
night.

”Are you ready for your punishment, you naughty boy,” Ginny asked, straddling Harry’s legs.

”I’m at your mercy, Milady,” he replied.

Ginny tore open his shirt and broken buttons flew everywhere. She began to trace tiny kisses across his chest
and down his torso, nipping at his navel. He moaned her name and passed out.

Next morning, everyone was rudely awakened as soon as Seamus regained consciousness. ”Ruddy hell, what
curs-ed Garden Gnome took a dump in me mouth last night?”

”Shut it, Finnegan,” Ron protested and threw a pillow in the Irishman’s general direction. He lay back down and
buried his face in Hermione’s neck, about to start waking her up her favourite way. He had just begun kissing
his way toward her chest when reality burst through the fog in his brain. ”Bloody hell,” Ron said with a start and
made sure his fiancée’s body was fully covered.

Slowly they all woke up and stretched. Thanks to Fleur, they suffered only mild headaches and were only mildly
nauseous.

Fleur prepared a continental breakfast, which was much appreciated, as it agreed with their stomachs better

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than a full English meal would have. Harry and Ginny offered to help clean up, but Fleur would have none of it
and all but pushed them through the Floo. By noon, everyone but Ron and Hermione had left. ”Ready, Love,”
Ron asked, offering her his arm. ”We should get back to the Burrow before Mum goes spare.”

”Could you ask Mum to wait for an hour or so to return Victoire,” Bill asked. ”We need to do some damage
control.”

”You mean remove the bottles,” Ron asked with a smirk.

Bill grinned. ”Among other things.”

”I'm sure she understands. I’ll bet Molly’s been smashed at a Hen night, too,” Hermione declared.

The following days flew by while the Burrow bustled with activity. Molly took great pride in keeping Harry and
Ginny free from duties, but Ron complained regularly about his task list, even if he was very happy for his sister
and his best friend. The day before the wedding, Harry was sent to George’s with Ron, and Ginny to Shell
Cottage with Hermione. Molly had to set up the decorations for the garden and she wanted it to be a surprise for
the bride and groom.

Harry held Ginny’s face in his hands and drank in her beauty, committing it to memory. He pressed his lips to
hers and held her close as though he wouldn’t see her again for a very long time. ”On the morrow, my love,” he
said. ”And then we shall be together forever.”

”I cannot wait, my knight,” Ginny whispered. ”Thou art my fondest dream come true.”

”I shall be happy in any wise, so long as I am with thee, sweet Ginevra.” He leaned in for another kiss. ”I love
thee so. Thou art my very life and breath. Mine heart belongeth only to thee.”

”I love thee, my Harry. Thou hast held mine heart since we were but children,” Ginny replied. ”Until the
morrow, Love.”

”Until the morrow.” Harry kissed his fiancée one last time, for the next time he kissed her, she would be his
wife.

Ron, George, and Harry spent the evening in George’s flat drinking mulled mead and reminiscing about their
Hogwarts days, laughing about the day George and Fred had escaped Toadface Umbridge and turned the entire
school upside-down. Ron observed that it was the only time the obnoxious school poltergeist obeyed any student
when the twins told him, ”give her hell, Peeves,” as they flew off on their broomsticks amid a blaze of fireworks.

At Shell Cottage, Fleur and Hermione kept Ginny company—and sane—with champagne, chocolate-covered
strawberries, and a fair amount of girl talk. Harry and Ginny, although generally unused to being separated from
one another, managed to sleep well because they could still pass their love for one another and the excitement
of their wedding day through their bond. The remainder of the Weasley assemblage took up temporary residence
at the Burrow under Field Marshal Molly Weasley's command.

Ginny woke early on the appointed day. The sun was still on the rise and it pleased Ginny that a lovely summer
day had broken for her wedding. She remained in her bed in the room she had shared with Harry the night the
Stags crashed the Hen party. In the other bed, Hermione still lay asleep. Today. I marry my Harry! Ginny
giggled quietly at the thought and her emotions bubbled like Amortentia inside her.

In one of the many conversations with her mother since Harry proposed, Molly reminded her of an incident
involving Harry when Ginny was just a little girl.”I’m going marry Harry Potter someday, Mummy!” Like so many
other Wizarding children, Ginny grew up with the story of the Boy-Who-Lived. She had been so worried about

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him because he had no family and no parents. For little Ginny, that was unthinkable.

Some seven years later, Harry Potter had been symbolically adopted into the Weasley family. He could just as
well have been Merlin himself. Ginny hadn't been able to talk to him, afraid of making an arse of herself, forever
labeled Ron's little sister. She had a crush on him that literally paralyzed her, but it wasn’t Harry she had the
crush on; it was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived—an idea, rather than a real person. She didn't know Harry,
her brother’s best friend.

In the Chamber of Secrets, she woke up to a new life. It was there, at that moment, that her bond with Harry
began to form. She knew that. He had risked his own life for her—for her. Ginny knew that even if the love
between them was unspoken back in her first year, Harry had feelings for her that far transcended the reality of
her status as Ron's little sister. The way he looked at her—so intense even then—as the Basilisk venom sapped
his very breath told her that.

However, it had taken a while to get together. She attended the Triwizard Tournament Yule Ball with Neville
Longbottom, but just as friends. She dated Michael Corner during her fourth year, but dumped him because he
couldn’t handle Ravenclaw House losing to Gryffindor in a Quidditch match. She dated Dean Thomas for most of
her fifth year, but she didn’t love him and it ended.

Harry had been secretly jealous of her relationship with Dean, finally making him realise his feelings for her.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and conjured the memory of the first kiss she shared with Harry. It
was like no kiss she’d ever shared with Michael or Dean. It was something special—something so undeniably
right—and she knew then that he was her Harry.

”Are we happy today,” Hermione asked, sitting up in the other bed.

Ginny turned to her best friend. ”I was just thinking about some of the events leading up to this day. Hermione,
I'm getting married, can you believe it?”

Hermione smiled at the happiness on Ginny’s face. ”Yes, I can,” she said. ”I’ve seen this coming for a long time,
you know.” Hermione said it so matter-of-factly, but she wouldn't have been Hermione if she hadn't.

”We’d better get up. I think I hear Fleur banging about in the kitchen,” Ginny said with a stretch. ”By the way, I
didn't hear a peep out of Victoire last night.”

”Duh...silencing charm, Gin,” Hermione teased her. ”Do we have our mind on something in particular today?”

Ginny grinned. I have my mind on a certain raven-haired Adonis with a body like a... She shook herself. ”I just
might. Come on, let's help Fleur with breakfast.”

Harry had a cup of tea and a slice of buttered toast with strawberry jam in front of him, but his mind was far
away at a little cottage by the sea. She was awake—he could feel her love and desire through their bond and he
sent her his. He had a very stupid grin on his face as he sipped at the tea and ignored the toast. ”Harry, snap
out of it! The wedding isn't until three this afternoon that's...six hours,” Ron told him.

”Did you know I'm marrying the most wonderful... beautiful... loving... passionate... arousing...” Harry rambled
on as though in a dream.

”Stop it, please. She's still my sister,” Ron said, squeezing his eyes closed and covering his ears.

”And mine, mate,” George added with a grimace.

”Eat, Harry. If you don’t, you’ll pass out at your own wedding,” Ron warned, gesturing toward the food.

Harry ate his toast and drank the rest of his tea. ”I love her so much,” Harry said, drifting off again.

”I surely hope so. As I said, she is my sister,” George said. ”Ron, was I this bad after New Year?”

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”You were a lot worse. You were pathetic.”

”My brothers,” Harry said. ”I'm sorry, my mind is wandering. What's the order of business today?”

”Getting showered and dressed, attempting to tame your mop, picking up the rings, arriving at the Burrow on
time...” Ron said. ”And most importantly, Harry, saying I do at the right point.”

”Ron, that part you don't have to worry about,” Harry smiled. ”I have no intention of bollixing that up.”

After breakfast, they showered and changed into robes. ”I thought it would be too warm to wear those robes,”
Ron said, pointing at their wedding attire.

”I hired a very skilled wizard to make those, Ron,” Harry assured him. ”They’ve been imbued with cooling and
warming charms. No matter the weather, your body will be kept at a comfortable temperature.”
The robes were masterpieces. Harry didn't know this tailor had been hired by British and other European wizards
who could afford him. Harry's robes had come at a very fair price. The tailor knew it was worth a lot of Galleons
to be able to brag that he had sewn Harry Potter's wedding robes. After a fight with his hair that resulted in little
change, Harry gave it up as an impossible job. He and Ron went out to pick up the rings and then returned to
the flat to relax before it was time to go.

At two o'clock, Hermione, Fleur, and Ginny arrived at the Burrow. They had spent several hours perfecting
Ginny's hair, makeup, dress, and flowers. Molly, who had her hands full of Butterbeers, dropped them at the
sight of her daughter. ”Oh, Ginny!” Tears welled up in Molly Weasley’s eyes.”Come dear, you must stay in your
room until it's time. The tiara is already up there. Please let Hermione help you with it. How are you feeling?”

”Mum, I've never felt better in my whole life!” Ginny blinked back tears so as to avoid smudging her makeup
that Fleur had worked so hard to apply.

Molly smiled. ”Enjoy every moment.”

The Goblin-made tiara sat on Ginny’s side-table. Hermione set it and anchored it in Ginny’s flaming tresses.

”There. It should hold now,” Hermione assured her. ”Oh Ginny, you are absolutely beautiful beyond words.
Harry’s not going to know what hit him!”

”Do you think so, Hermione,” Ginny asked, admiring her look in her peeling full-length mirror.

”I know so.” She and Ginny hugged each other, both blinking back the tears that threatened their perfect make
up.

”For what it’s worth, Hermione,” Ginny began. ”I’m so glad you and Ron are together. You’ve been so good for
him and I’m so glad you’re going to be my sister.”

”Me too, Gin. I love him so,” Hermione said.

”And Hermione?”

”Yes, Ginny?”

”You’re a bloody knockout. Ron’s going to have all he can do to hold it together himself,” Ginny laughed. The
two girls continued to primp and adjust while they giggled and talked about their men.

By two-thirty, Harry, Ron, and George arrived. Many of the guests had already gathered in the garden to mingle
on that beautiful sunny day. Old friends caught up with one another while new friends were introduced.

Harry didn't feel very nervous while he waited in Ron's room, because he was already bonded to Ginny. The
wedding atmosphere felt very natural, something he had been looking forward to for quite some time, but
nothing to be nervous about. He smiled as a wave of Ginny’s love passed through him, which he returned with a
wistful smile.

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At ten minutes to three, a most-certainly-nervous Arthur appeared. ”Harry, it's almost time. You’d better get out
there.”

”Right. Okay,” Harry said.

”Ready, mate,” Ron said with a gulp. ”This is it.”

”I’m ready, Ron, but you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Harry laughed.

”I... I’m fine,” Ron lied. He was nervous because he knew Hermione was going to look positively gorgeous and
he wasn’t sure he’d be able to take it in and remain upright.

”Let’s go then,” Harry said. They checked their look one last time. Harry had remembered to tie his overly-long
hair back into a slick ponytail with a deep green ribbon. Ron opened the door to the landing and they headed
downstairs and out into the garden. It was amazing.

He couldn't imagine the amount of work the Weasleys, especially Molly, had put into all of this. It was
breathtaking. The garden was an explosion of flowers. Someone must have cast a scent-enhancing spell because
there was a fruity-flowery scent all over the garden—Ginny’s exact scent, and it intoxicated Harry.

Harry walked with Ron towards Kingsley and they took their positions. Harry turned around and watched as the
people gathered. There were a lot of Weasley relatives including Aunt Muriel. Professor McGonagall and Hagrid
represented Hogwarts, the entire Auror team were there, and his old Quidditch team.

Angelina stood close to George who had his arm around her waist, while members of the original Dumbledore's
Army stood together with Neville and Hannah. Next to them stood Dudley, Penny, and to Harry's surprise, Aunt
Petunia. The Grangers stood with Molly, who openly wept while Mrs Granger patted her back.

”What is she doing here,” Harry asked Ron, nodding toward his aunt.

”I don't know,” Ron shrugged. ”Imperiused?”

”Can’t you ever be serious,” Harry asked him between snickers.

”No, I can’t ever be Sirius. I’m Ron,” he replied, causing Harry to snicker some more.

”Prat,” Harry said through his teeth.

”Git,” Ron replied, also through his teeth.

”Ponce.”

”Yeah, but you still love me,” Ron snorted.

”Shut it, you,” Harry retorted. The two friends snickered and nudged one another as they continued to survey
the congregation.

On the other side of Kingsley, Luna stood with her camera. She had insisted upon representing The Quibbler, a
gesture Harry thoroughly appreciated. Her father still felt bad about the incident at his now-rebuilt house, where
he’d betrayed the Trio to Death Eaters and had nearly gotten them captured. Harry didn’t hold any grudges, for
he knew that it was Mr Lovegood’s initial support of him that had led to Luna’s kidnapping and imprisonment at
Malfoy Manor. In order to reinforce goodwill between himself and Xeno Lovegood, Harry granted exclusive
coverage of the wedding to his magazine. The Weasley-Potter Wedding Issue should make a strong enough
profit to put the Lovegoods safely back in the black.

Harry and Ron continued to survey the crowd. About halfway back, just behind the Aurors, stood Seamus with
Patricia and the Prewett twins, and Joseph, holding Emma’s hand. Next to Patricia stood a woman who very
much resembled her, so Harry assumed she must be the girl’s mother. Harry nudged Ron and gestured toward
the Munchkins. They smiled and waved shyly as Harry and Ron winked at them. Just then, the village clock
struck three and silence fell over the assembly. It was time and Harry’s heart began to pound. In just a few
minutes, his Ginny would walk down the aisle to him, escorted by her father.

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A haunting soprano voice drifted over the garden singing of love. It turned out to be Fleur. Her song went
straight to Harry's heart and everyone could feel the romance in the air. Harry guessed Fleur was singing in
French, but he understood her words anyway. It must be that Veela magic.

Hermione appeared at the back of the gathering and began her slow, graceful advance to the front. She was
stunningly beautiful in her elegant light-green dress that set off the emeralds in Ginny’s ring and the detail in
Harry’s robes. Her hair was done up with flowers, her wild curls cascading like a waterfall down her back. Harry
had never seen her look so lovely, not even at the Yule Ball. Ron stared at his fiancée and gulped hard, falling in
love with her all over again. He couldn’t help but flash his lopsided grin as she smiled up at him with her shining
cinnamon eyes. She took her place and turned to face the rear as Ginny appeared on her father’s arm.

Harry had to restrain himself from running to her. Merlin, she looked like an angel, more beautiful than he could
have ever imagined. The elegant simplicity of the single voice singing gripped them all while Harry’s eyes fixed
on his bride, his Light Goddess. His world, his entire universe in that moment, was Ginny. For a brief moment
that could have been an aeon, she was all that existed for him. This image of Ginny would stay with him for the
rest of his life. A tear escaped and slid down his cheek. Potter, you have struck gold, mate.

Her gown was timelessly elegant in its simplicity, enhancing Ginny's already stunning figure. Everyone would
remember how lovely Ginny looked, rather than the dress she wore. It was form-fitting, accentuating Ginny's
perfect curves. It had been imbued with the same climate charms as Harry’s robes, regulating a pleasant
temperature, and another charm that emphasized the lustre of the fabric yet dampening the blinding white in
the bright summer sun.

Ginny's hair was arranged in a style similar to Hermione’s, only more elaborate, and crowned with the newly-
cleaned and polished tiara. Around her slender neck, she wore the locket Harry had given her on her birthday.
She wore specially-crafted earrings that matched the locket and tiara. Hermione and Ron had given them to her
as an early wedding present.
She carried a bouquet of wildflowers, strawberries, roses, and lilies. Each element carried a significance for
Harry. The wildflowers and the strawberries represented Ginny’s signature scent that Harry loved so much, the
roses represented their love for one another, and the lilies stood as a tribute to his mother, whose ring she
wore.

As Arthur and Ginny advanced, the assembly drew a collective breath. Ginny's appearance and Fleur's voice held
them in a sort of suspended animation, captivating their consciousness in a way the strongest love potion could
never do. The moment was intensely magical, and years later, attendees would still marvel at the wonder of it
all.

Molly sobbed as her husband escorted her baby, her one and only daughter, toward her destiny. Arthur couldn’t
be prouder of his daughter. Her brothers all seemed to wonder who this enchanting creature that Harry was
about to marry could possibly be. Hermione beamed as father and daughter arrived at the dais. Arthur released
Ginny to Harry's arm, kissed her cheek, and retreated to Molly's side.

Harry's and Ginny's eyes met and locked upon one another as they opened up their bond to share this moment.
They were glowing again like they never had before. Fleur's song faded into thin air, leaving not a sound but the
soft sigh of the breeze through the treetops and the song of birds in their branches. Kingsley paused a few
moments before he began the ceremony.

”Harry and Ginny,” Kingsley said looking at both of them, ”and family and friends gathered here today, we
celebrate a most wonderful occasion. I daresay that rarely has there been as strong a love between two people
as the love Harry and Ginny share. Their love transcends mortal life and conquers death itself.”

At this, Harry noticed a surprised look on the faces of Dudley, Penny and Petunia. They knew bits and pieces
about what had happened at the end of the war, but none of the details surrounding Harry’s sacrifice for Ginny
and what it meant.

”It is therefore, both humbly and proudly, that I accepted the invitation to officiate and cast the Wedding charm
over them.” Kingsley flicked his wand, initiating the charm. ”Harry, you may recite your vows to Ginevra.”

He gazed into Ginny’s chocolate brown eyes and took both of her trembling hands in his. He took a deep breath,
hoping for enough air to speak. ”Ginny, there's a saying, at least among Muggles, that love is blind.” Harry

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shook his head slowly. ”It's not. Love opened my eyes...and I saw you. My life was already yours, but I give it to
you again, Ginny, today and every day with my undying love and devotion. I promise to be your faithful and
loving husband, to cherish you each moment of every day for the rest of my life. I love you.”

Kingsley turned to Ginny. ”Ginevra, you may recite your vows to Harry.”

Ginny sighed and blinked back her tears. Harry’s words had touched her so deeply that she could barely breathe.
He sensed her struggle and sent a wave of calm through their bond. Thusly fortified, she gazed back into his
emerald green eyes. ”Harry, my life is yours. My heart beats only for you, for you are every breath I take, and
you are always in my thoughts. I promise to be your faithful and loving wife from this day on, for the rest of my
life. I love you.”

A golden cord appeared between Harry and Ginny and wrapped itself around their joined hands. Kingsley flicked
his wand again and the cord flashed for a moment, signifying the couple’s promises of love and faith to one
another.

Kingsley looked at Harry. ”Do you, Harry James Potter, take Ginevra Molly Weasley to be your wife according to
British Wizarding Law?”

Harry gazed into Ginny’s eyes once again. ”I do.” Another tear stole down his cheek.

”And do you, Ginevra Molly Weasley, take Harry James Potter to be your husband according to British Wizarding
Law?”

Ginny returned Harry’s gaze. ”I do.” Ginny shed her own tears as she made her promise.

How many times had she spoken those very words in her fantasies since she was four years old? Now her
fantasies had become reality. A second golden cord appeared and wrapped itself around their joined hands,
signifying the legality of their marriage. Kingsley again flicked his wand and it flashed.

Kingsley smiled and nodded to Ron and Hermione, who took a step closer to Harry and Ginny. Ron held Ginny’s
ring on his pinky, while Hermione held Harry’s on her index finger. The last part of the wedding charm was the
tangible symbol of their union, the exchanging of rings. Ron held out Ginny’s ring to Harry, who took Ginny’s
left hand in his and gazed into her eyes.”With this ring, I thee wed.” Harry slowly slid the ring onto Ginny's
finger.

They were both trembling with anticipation, feeling each other's love, knowing that within minutes they would
be husband and wife. Hermione held out Harry's ring to Ginny, who took Harry’s left hand into hers, gazing back
into his eyes.”With this ring, I thee wed.” Ginny slid the ring onto Harry's finger.

At this, a third golden cord appeared and wrapped itself around their joined hands. Kingsley flicked his wand
three times, and all three cords flashed simultaneously and disappeared. A wave of emotion overwhelmed the
couple, and for a moment, they melded into one entity, looking at each other through one another’s eyes. Soon
they returned to themselves, feeling one another more intensely than ever before.

Kingsley raised his arms over them, grinning broadly. ”You have spoken your vows before these witnesses,
according to our law and tradition. It is my great pleasure to declare you husband and wife. Mr and Mrs Potter,
you may kiss each other,” Kingsley boomed as the congregation burst into cheers and applause.
I must restrain myself from snogging him senseless right here and right now. Harry took a step closer to Ginny,
her scent enchanting his senses. He gazed into her chocolate brown eyes allowing himself drown in them. Mr
and Mrs Potter, we're married. Of all the things I've ever done, I must have done something good to deserve the
love and devotion of my wonderful Ginny, my wife. Harry took her into his arms and their lips met in their first
kiss as husband and wife. They embraced and gave each other a soft nibble at the ear and then kissed again
with open mouths in a very sweet, yet uninhibited way.

As they broke apart, Fleur began to sing once again, her song conveying the joy following the sobriety of the
ceremony. Harry offered Ginny his arm and they walked back up the aisle formed by the assembly. There were
tears in everyone’s eyes as the happy couple passed. Ron offered Hermione his arm and they followed the bride
and groom, with Kingsley bringing up the rear.

”’Mione, Love, you look... you look... bloody amazing,” Ron said with a gulp. ”I mean, you’re beautiful, but today,

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you’re... I can’t describe it.”

”Thank you, Ronald. You’re very sweet,” Hermione said. ”And you look quite handsome yourself.”

”When I saw you walking up the aisle, I... I stopped breathing. I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he confessed.
”I... I fell in love with you all over again.”

”I know. It was all over your face,” she said with a slight blush. ”I love you.”

They continued to the other side of the Burrow where the feast would be served. There was a tent-like ceiling
magically levitated, dispersing the bright sunlight to a inviting shade. Under the ceiling tables had been set,
decorated with the same flowers as in Ginny's bouquet, replete with strawberries dipped in chocolate.

Harry and Ginny stood with Ron and Hermione, the Minister for Magic, and Arthur and Molly Weasley at the
entrance to welcome their guests. It took more than an hour, because every witch and wizard in attendance
wanted to congratulate the happy couple. Among the first were Professors McGonagall and Hagrid. Hagrid was
still wiping his tears with a tablecloth-size handkerchief. Even stoic Professor McGonagall was clearly emotional.
Oh Albus, I wish you were here to see this. ”Harry... Ginny...” she said, without a trace of her normal strict
formality, and kissed them both on their cheeks. ”Lily and James would be so proud.”

Hagrid looked at them with watery eyes. ”Ginny an' 'Arry. Me best wishes... Sorry, can't help me ruddy tears...
yer weddin' was so beau’iful.”

”Thank you, Hagrid,” Harry said and turned to the headmistress.”Professor, I'm so glad you’re here.” Professor
McGonagall gave them both a smile before they moved on allowing the next in line to greet the newlyweds.

Next in line came the Munchkins, accompanied by Seamus and Patricia’s mother. ”Harry!”

”Hey Pat,” Harry said as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

”You look so handsome today,” she beamed. ”And Ginny, you look like a fairy princess.”

”Thank you, Patricia. Is this your mum?”

”Oh... yes. Sorry. Mum, this is Harry and Ginny Potter,” Patricia said, introducing her mother to the bride and
groom. ”And this is my mum, Diana Murray-Templeton.”

”Mrs Templeton, thank you so much for bringing Patricia,” Harry said. ”She’s quite the young lady and scholar.”
”We’re very proud of her, but I must admit...”

”I know,” Ginny said. ”Hermione’s parents are Muggles and it’s been quite an adjustment for them, too. But
don’t worry, you’ll get used to it all. In fact, the Grangers are here today. I’ll have her introduce you to them.
You’ll have much to talk about.”

”C’mon, Mum! You must meet Hermione and Ron,” Patricia said excitedly. ”Hermione’s my best friend... after
Emma, Erica, and Joseph.”

”All right, dear,” Mrs Templeton said, allowing herself to be dragged along by her daughter. ”It was wonderful
meeting the two of you. Congratulations.”

”Hurry up, Emma,” Erica cried as they approached the bride and groom. ”You and Joseph can snog on the dance
floor later on!”

Harry and Ginny about choked. ”Emma and Joseph? Snogging,” Harry asked incredulously. ”Aren’t they a little
young for that?”

”Hey, Erica,” Ginny cried, squeezing her in a tight hug. ”How’s my girl?”

”Ginny, you’re so beautiful! And Harry looks...wow,” she gushed.

”Whoa there, little one,” Harry laughed. ”You’re looking quite lovely this fine afternoon.”

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”Not as lovely as Ginny,” Erica said, looking back at the bride. ”She’s really pretty today.”

”Yes, she is,” Harry laughed. ”Very pretty.”

”And you’re really handsome, Harry,” Erica said shyly. ”I think she likes you.”

”That... that’s a good thing,” Harry chuckled. ”Because she’s stuck with me for life! Now, Erica, Ron’s just over
there and he’s looking pretty jealous. His favourite Munchkin hasn’t given him a hug yet today.”

”Oh! I’d better get over there, then,” Erica giggled. ”I don’t want him to be jealous.”

Emma and Joseph approached together, holding hands. ”Miss Ginny, you look right loverly,” Joseph said. ”No
other lady was ever lovelier...exceptin’ maybe Emma, here!”

”Why thank you Joseph,” Ginny smiled. ”Emma, you’ve got yourself quite a sweet-talker here.”

”I know. He says the most wonderful things sometimes,” Emma replied dreamily. ”But gosh, Ginny! You look like
a queen!”

”Gin, you’ve been promoted,” Harry laughed. ”You’ve risen from Princess to Queen in less than ten minutes!”

”Harry,” Emma began as she began to blush. ”Can I... um... give you a kiss on the cheek?”

”Gin?”

”Oh I think that’d be all right, but only if Joseph gives me one,” Ginny said with a twinkle in her eye.

”Blimey, Miss Ginny,” Joseph gulped. ”You... you’d let me... uh...”

”Why not? You’re a dashing young man who’s going to be an Auror someday, and she goes spare for a man in
uniform,” Harry said. ”On three, all right, mate?”

”Right,” Joseph agreed.

”One... two... three,” Harry counted and both Munchkins gave the bride and groom a kiss on their cheeks,
clasped hands, and scurried off to talk with Ron and Hermione.

”They are so cute,” Ginny cried softly as she captured Harry’s lips in a passionate kiss of their own. ”I see so
much of us in them.”

”Yeah, except Joseph got a clue a helluva lot sooner,” Harry said, kissing her again. ”Good on him.”

A while later, Dudley, Penny, and Aunt Petunia approached. Aunt Petunia looked troubled. ”Thank you for the
invitation. I must say I didn't expect one,” she said.

Ginny felt Harry's discomfort through the bond. “You’re Harry's family.”

”As you can understand, Vernon wouldn't even consider coming here. I'm here mostly out of respect for my
sister, as a final act of my promise to care for Harry. I know your kind are considered adults at seventeen, and
now, Harry, you and Ginny are married and starting your own family.”
Care for me... some way she did that... Harry had all he could do to hold his tongue and let Ginny do the
talking.

”Mrs Dursley, Harry gave me your sister's ring when he proposed to me and I'm very proud to wear it,” Ginny
said. He was glad to give his wife the lead, since he wasn’t sure what he should say to his aunt.

Aunt Petunia looked at them with a slight smile. ”I do wish you happiness, and it really was a beautiful wedding.
Thank you for allowing me to come.”

Harry nodded and met his aunt's eyes. With that she left them. ”Dudley,” Harry greeted his cousin with a warm

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smile. ”Good to have you and Penny here.”

”Harry and Ginny, that wedding was so...wicked,” Dudley said. ”I’ve never seen anything like that before. It was
brilliant!”

”It was unlike anything I'd ever imagined,” Penny said, hugging Ginny. ”It was so romantic, I couldn't help but
cry,” Penny agreed.
After an exchange of hugs, Dudley led Penny through the receiving line, exchanging greetings with Ron and
Hermione while Harry and Ginny greeted more guests. Among the last were the Weasley brothers, who
congratulated them and gave Harry a man-hug each.

”Welcome to the family, Little Bro,” Charlie said. ”You’re officially a Weasley now!”

”You’ve got a good man, there, Gin-Gin,” Bill said, draping his arm over his brother-in-law’s shoulders. ”Be good
to him.”

”I will, Billy. I promise,” Ginny said, kissing her eldest brother’s scarred face.

Aunt Muriel came along, escorted by Percy and George, and followed by Angelina. Aunt Muriel showed no sign of
tears. ”Harry, you are a most handsome and well-mannered young man. Remember not to go too soft on your
wife. She can be a handful,” she told him sternly. ”Ginevra, quite a catch you’ve made for yourself, eh? I must
say that you bear the tiara with a surprising amount of grace, despite your much-too-revealing dress.”

Neither Harry nor Ginny dared say anything other than Yes, Aunt Muriel or No, Aunt Muriel, wishing it would
soon be over. As soon as she waddled safely out of earshot, they put their heads together and laughed privately
before they greeted their next guest.

”What the hell was that all about,” Harry asked, trying to contain himself. ”I don’t think she knows what a
handful you are.” He kissed her hand, his lips lingering on her wedding band. ”I love you so much, Gin.” I wish
to Merlin this line would end so I can take you off for a snog.

Arthur and Molly were next. Like Hagrid, Molly continued to weep while her husband blinked back his own tears.
”Son, I know you'll take good care of her,” Arthur said, hugging Harry before turning to Ginny. ”My little girl,
you’re so beautiful today. I know you’ll be very happy.” He kissed her cheeks.

Molly had temporarily lost her ability to speak and simply gathered the two of them into a big hug. She tried to
say something, but nothing came out.

”Molly, I don't know how I’ll be able to thank you for all of this,” Harry said.

”Mum, it's beyond every dream,” Ginny agreed.

Still speechless, Molly hugged them again.

”Harry,” Arthur began in a fatherly tone. ”I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: I want you to know we have
considered you our son for a long time. Please call Molly and me Mum and Dad if you want to.”

Harry had, despite the strong and overwhelming emotions, not shed but a few tears so far, but now he felt them
run down his cheeks. ”I've never known any parents other than you... Dad,” Harry said and thought about
something he wanted to tell them.

Ginny sensed it and knew instinctively what it was. She silently sent her assent.”Mum and Dad,” Harry said,
”you know how much Ginny and I love the Burrow and this area. We want to build a house not far from here on
some land we own about a mile up the road, by that little brook.”

Molly looked up at them and found her voice. ”You mean... you'll live... a short walk from here?”

Ginny nodded.

”If you wouldn't mind having your son-in-law that close,” Harry said with a smirk.

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”It would be just...” Molly started.

”... splendid.” Arthur finished.

Before they left for the feast, Luna took the customary pictures of the wedding party and the bride and groom.
”I’ll arrange all the photographs in an album for you,” Luna promised. ”That’s the Lovegoods’ wedding present to
you. When I bring it, we can choose the best of them for the spread in The Quibbler.”

”That sounds like a plan, Luna,” Harry agreed. ”Thank you.” Harry and Ginny hugged her like a sister before she
wandered off too snap candid shots of the festivities.

The feast began. Molly seemed to have prepared every kind of food imaginable. She and Arthur remained
standing before their seats on either side of Harry and Ginny. ”Welcome, and thank you for coming today to
share this occasion with Harry and Ginny. I won't say much more right now other than... tuck in,” Molly said,
trying not to burst into tears again.

Despite personal tastes, every guest would leave the feast saying that their absolute favourite food had been
served. It was phenomenal. Harry knew Kreacher had done a lot of the cooking too, very proudly assisted with
the food and drink. The din of conversation was interrupted by a clanking of a spoon on a glass. Ron and
Hermione had risen to propose a toast to their two best friends.

”Harry and Ginny,” Hermione began, ”you are the brother and sister I never had. I love you both, and being
here today, sharing in your happiness is an honour, as well as a pleasure.” She deferred to Ron, who took up
the tribute.

”Me, I have a mob of brothers and one sister.” He paused to allow a wave of light laughter to pass through the
crowd. ”Harry, you’ve been my best mate for seven years, and now you’re my brother-in-law, Merlin help you.
Ginny, you're my only sister and how you stood it, I’ll never know. I think anyone with eyes can see that you’re
meant for each other.”

”Ron and I want to propose a toast,” Hermione continued. ”To Harry and Ginny!”

”Slaínte,” Ron called, raising his glass and slamming it back.

”Slaínte,” the crowd replied and drained their own glasses of whatever they contained.

Harry and Ginny spent much of the feast gazing at each other and exchanging kisses whenever the crowd
clanked their glasses with their spoons. They fed chocolate-covered strawberries to one another as a prelude to
later activities. After the feast, tables were shifted aside and a dance floor appeared in the center of the canopy.
Harry and Ginny danced every dance they could together, as well as a few with the Munchkins.

”Gin, once Luna's pictures make the press, you will most certainly spend another 40 weeks as the most beautiful
witch in the country, but no matter what the ruddy Witch Weekly says, you are always the most beautiful to
me.”

Ginny felt her heart beat faster and she whispered to Harry. ”And you haven't even seen what I’m wearing
under this dress yet...”

Harry looked at her pretending to be offended. ”And you tell me this now, at the feast?”

”I want you to have something to look forward to... tonight... Mr Potter.”

”I already am looking forward to it. I plan to spend it with... Mrs Potter.”

Ginny's heart melted. Mrs Potter. That was who she was now. She had thought about her name changing, and
now that it was a fact, it felt perfectly natural. She was Ginevra Molly Potter. She was married to Harry and
about to leave for her wedding night, the first night of their new life together, and the first night of their
honeymoon.

Harry buried his face in her neck and kissed her pulse point. Her scent captivated his imagination as readily as it
ever had. ”This day, Ginny, is the happiest of my life.”

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”I know, Love. Mine too,” she whispered. ”And if you don’t stop that, I’m going to have to give myself over to
you right here on the dance floor!”

Their hands found each other and they kissed again. They both felt each other's love through their bond as they
danced.

”Gin,” Harry said seriously, ”I'm truly happy. You make me happy.”

Those simple words went straight to Ginny's heart. After all Harry had been through, she made him happy.
”Harry, we'll always have each other and we’ll always be together,” Ginny promised him.

Harry smiled as he held her closer in his arms. Yes, we’ll always be together.

A/N With this chapter all that remains of the Death Eaters Quest is one last chapter wrapping it all up. However,
by now the sequel "Harry Potter and the Right of Justice" is written and posted.

Some readers have been pointing out the young age (18 and 17) of Harry and Ginny. From JKR canon we know
that it's quite common in the wizarding world to get married right out of Hogwarts. James and Lily, Molly and
Arthur, Frank and Alice to mention a few. Remember that cronologically Harry and Ginny are teenagers, but they
have been forced to mature beyond their years. In this story they also have a very deep bond of love forging
their lives together in a way known, even to the wizarding world, from myths. Based on this I find it very likely
that Harry and Ginny get married while they're still in their teens.

As always I appreciate reviews of any length.

Chapter 24: Epilogue


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Chapter 24 – Epilogue

"Give me five, my love," Harry said, taking his wife in his arms and giving her a passionate kiss.

”Of course, my darling,” Ginny replied, kissing her husband on the cheek. She knew this was a moment he
wanted to be alone. Alone. That word held a different meaning for Harry and Ginny Potter than for everyone
else, for neither was ever completely alone—a promise each made to the other at the end of a terrible war.
Their bond had grown so strong over the years that they shared one another’s minds completely.

”Mars bars.” The gargoyle stepped aside to reveal the spiral staircase leading to the headmaster’s office. Harry
climbed the stairs with the agility of youth, while the text from the Daily Prophet article ran through his mind.
Harry Potter Appointed Headmaster
Harry James Potter, 58, has been appointed headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry following
the death of Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. Like his mentor, the legendary Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter
has never shown any interest in the office of Minister for Magic. ”The New Dumbledore” has instead followed in
his mentor’s footsteps as headmaster following his retirement as Head Auror.
Harry Potter hardly needs introduction. Today, he is considered the greatest wizard alive by most of the
Wizarding community. He was first famous as "The-Boy-Who-Lived" since the age of fifteen months, and was
tutored and trained by Dumbledore during his time at Hogwarts in the years before the Second Wizarding War.
During the war, Potter emerged as the leader opposing the dark wizard, Tom Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort. In the
historic Battle of Hogwarts, he defeated Voldemort, having survived the killing curse for a second time.
In the year that followed, Harry Potter became an Auror and was soon after appointed the youngest Head of the

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Auror Office in history. He married his childhood sweetheart, Ginevra ”Ginny” (Weasley), who after a successful
career as a Chaser with the Holyhead Harpies, became mother to the couple's two sons and one daughter. She
will join her husband on the staff as Hogwarts’ flying instructor and as Head of the school’s Quidditch
department.
As head of the Auror Office, Harry Potter made the dark arts nearly extinct along with his longtime friend and
assistant, master strategist Ronald Weasley. Harry Potter has written several books with his friend and ally,
Hermione Weasley, combining unique practical experience with outstanding wit. Harry Potter concludes his long
career with the Ministry of Magic to lead Hogwarts and pass his wisdom to future generations of Britain’s wizards
and witches. The Daily Prophet would like to offer its congratulations to the Potters and wish them all the best in
their new endeavours.

Harry opened the door and stepped into his office. Even after all these years, he still thought of it as Professor
Dumbledore’s office, and still held it in reverence after the old man. He sought out two particular paintings
before anything else, his lips curling into a nostalgic smile and his eyes, still a brilliant emerald green, twinkled.

Dumbledore nodded and smiled. "Finally, Harry. I’d hoped you would return to us some day."

”Professor, there's really no position I would have considered other than that as an Auror.” Harry looked at
Dumbledore, who gave him an encouraging smile, and then faced professor Snape.

"Professor Snape. I trust you know my second son is named Albus Severus."

"I heard," Snape answered. "And that he has Lily's eyes." Snape looked at Harry and smiled for a moment.

Harry hadn't been in the headmaster's office for many years. He looked around and nodded to Professor
McGonagall's portrait. The former headmistress nodded back with a thin smile. ”So Mr Potter, you’re back with
us once again. I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

Harry had made many visits to Hogwarts to give lectures, but this was the first time he returned to the school to
stay, to live, since the year following the Second Wizarding War forty years ago.

”How could I stay away from my first home,” Harry replied. ”I am who I am because of my time here. You had a
lot to do with that, Minerva.”

Professor McGonagall looked over her square spectacles at the new headmaster. ”You are who you are because
of you, Harry. You know that,” she said with mock sternness. ”We just gave you a shove in right direction.”

”That’s right, young man,” another portrait said in a pinched tone. ”Not still brooding are we, Mr Potter?”

”No Professor Nigellus,” Harry replied with a chuckle. ”I got over that long ago, thanks for asking.”

”Really, Potter,” Snape’s voice half-sneered. ”You need to get over something else.”

”Oh? What’s that, Professor,” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

”We’re colleagues. Drop the formalities.”

”All right, then. I’ll drop the formalities if you stop calling me Potter and start calling me Harry instead,” Harry
smirked.

”Don’t push it...Harry,” Snape said with a very-badly concealed smirk. The portraits of the other former
headmasters and headmistresses who had been faking slumber all began to chuckle and snort at the exchange
between Harry and his former Potions Master.

”Right...Severus.” After a few moments, Harry became serious again. ”I’ll never forget what you did, you know. I
stand by the statement I made years ago.”

”I thank you,” Severus said with a slight bow. ”I guess I owe you my reputation.”

”You don’t owe me anything, Severus,” Harry said, shaking his head. ”I owe you my life. You made sacrifices
that...”

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”Spare me the sentimentality, Harry,” Snape cut in. ”I did what I had to do as did you and Albus and everyone
else who helped to save our world. It was worth it.”

”I think, for once, we agree,” Harry said with a grin.

”Indeed,” Snape said with a nod.

”It’s about time,” another portrait said with glee. ”We shan’t be subjected to your bickering?”

”No, Professor Dippet... er... Armando,” Harry said. ”No bickering... well, not much anyway. Albus?”

”Harry, as former headmasters and headmistresses, we are bound to be of as much assistance to the current
headmaster as we can,” Dumbledore said. ”But remember that we can only answer specific questions and offer
counsel on specific issues. After all, we’re just paint and canvas.”

”No, you’re more than that,” Harry said, looking around at his predecessors. ”Much more than that.”

He and Ginny had been married forty years just over two months ago. They’d had a rough start, rougher than
any teenagers should have had. Before they could be completely happy, a prophecy had to be fulfilled. Harry
had to rid their world of Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, and then his mad apprentice, Mafalda
Prewett. In another ten years, Mafalda will have her first chance for permission to do magic again.

Her trial had been major news back then. The horrible Dementor's Kiss hadn't been outlawed yet and there was
strong support to use the opportunity to sentence Mafalda before it was banned. Harry had been among those
who had spoken openly against condemning Mafalda to the kiss. He, as Head Auror, and Minister for Magic,
Kingsley Shacklebolt, had managed to convince the Wizengamot to snap Mafalda’s wand and incur a lifetime ban
from ever doing magic, but fifteen years ago, it had been decided that after fifty years, she could be
re-evaluated for the possibility for the ban to be lifted.

Harry set a picture on the desk and gazed at it. His family was so precious to him. Harry and Ginny sat on a
leather loveseat in a room that looked somewhat like a library. His beloved Ginny played three seasons for the
Holyhead Harpies before turning in her broom for a baby blanket. Later on, she chose journalism and became
the senior Quidditch correspondent for the Daily Prophet. Now she would take on the role of Flying professor and
Quidditch referee at Hogwarts. She was still so beautiful, and gave him a smile that melted him. Even after all
these years, she could still awaken Gryffindor’s lion.

James Sirius, the eldest of the Potter children, stood at the center behind his parents, his flaming red hair and
brown eyes inherited from his mother. At Hogwarts, he played Chaser for Gryffindor like his paternal
grandfather, but he joined the national team as a Seeker like his father, and was now coaching. In school, he
was a prankster like his brother. Ginny had told them stories about her own brothers, Fred and George, and
their exploits at school. James was all too eager to work at the Diagon Alley shop with his Uncle George, coming
away with pocketfuls of new jokes to drive Professor McGonagall mad. Always the athlete, though, he was very
fit and had won the World Cup three times as a player and once, so far, as a coach. At the age of thirty-six, he
was the most available, and certainly the most hopeless bachelor in the country. He exuded the Weasley charm,
also a gift from his mother, and used it to play the field. Finnegan’s had a very bad influence on you, boy, but
James and Sirius would be proud.

Albus Severus, second of the Potter children, stood to his brother’s right. He bore an uncanny resemblance to
Harry himself, complete with messy black hair, emerald green eyes, and poor eyesight—but mercifully, scarless.
He’d even inherited the habit of messing up his hair when he was up to mischief. Al was a fun-loving boy who
loved Quidditch and played with his brother and sister on the Gryffindor team as Seeker, like his father. He and
James pranked their way through school, earning both of them their share of time in detention, but Al’s
reputation for fairness and tolerance earned him the respect of his classmates and professors. As a man, those
qualities earned him the respect of the entire Wizarding community and he eventually took his place on the
Wizengamot. His opinion was so valued that he was able to help push through a lot of legislation authored by his
Aunt Hermione in the RCMC. He was married and had given Harry and Ginny their first grandchild. Yes, Potter,
he can be trusted with it.

Lily Luna, the youngest of the Potter children, stood to James’ left. She was all Weasley, as stunningly beautiful

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as her mother, but with sapphire blue eyes instead of chocolate brown. She had to be tough like Ginny, too,
growing up with two older brothers and Teddy Lupin, who was several years older than the Potter children. She
was a good student and a talented witch, having inherited some of her father’s talents, but her mother’s
disposition. Ginny had made sure her daughter could protect herself and taught her the infamous Bat-Bogey
hex, which Lily used with relish. She was athletic like her heroic oldest brother, James, but more studious like
Al. She played with her brothers on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a Chaser, but unlike her mother, had no
desire to make a career of it. Lily worshipped her father, though, and from a very young age, declared that she
would become an Auror. ”I’m going to wipe the floor with dark magic, Daddy,” she would say. ”I’ll make you
proud of me!” Now, as a Senior Auror, she would very likely take her place as Assistant Head of the Auror Office
under ”Irish” Finnegan. That’s my girl, my princess.

Ted Lupin, his and Ginny’s godson, stood to Lily’s right. He was tall like Remus and had light brown eyes and
hair. To Harry and Ginny, he was as much a son to them as James or Albus, and they loved him equally as
much. He was a Metamorphmagus like his mother, Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, and loved to display his hair in his
favourite color, turquoise blue. At his surrogate mother’s request, he agreed to maintain Remus’ hair color, but
stuck in a little shock of turquoise in the front just before the picture had been snapped. Harry remembered
Ginny had initially been livid, but he talked her down in the end. It’s just part of who Teddy was. He had been
on a brief visit to England when the picture had been taken, only to return to his and Victoire's home in Lyon,
France a few hours later.

Next to the Potter family photo was the Ron Weasley family photo. Ron held his dear Hermione close. He still
can’t keep his hands off her. Ron, Harry’s best friend, brother, and fellow Auror, had saved his life more times
than he could count, and he had returned the favour as often. Ron had to hang up his maroon Auror’s robes a
couple of years before Harry because of a shattered pelvis resulting from a nasty motorcycle crash with a
drunken Muggle driver some years ago. The Healers had been able to patch him up well enough, but the damage
was done. He walked with a slight limp ever since, but was still an able Auror and Assistant Head. Now Ron lived
in early retirement, enjoying it just a little bit too much, judging by his new paunch. Maybe I’ll need a Defence
Against the Dark Arts professor. Who better than Ron?

Hermione was still the brightest witch he ever had known, having had a remarkable career with the Ministry.
After improving rights for magical creatures with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical
Creatures, she had transferred to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as an assistant to their mutual
father-in-law. By the time Arthur retired, Hermione had taken over as Head of that department.
The Golden Trio, as they were called, ran the DMLE and worked the Auror Office for a long time, making the
Wizarding community more stable and safe than at any other time in history. They won many awards and
accolades for their work, through Hermione’s brilliant use of logic coupled with Ron’s strategic genius and
Harry’s fierce determination. Of course, when Harry called on her, Hermione gladly accepted the position as
Head of Gryffindor House and Professor of Ancient Runes, leaving Cho as Head of Magical Law Enforcement.
Thanks, Hermione. You’re the best.

Their two children, Rose and Hugo, stood on either side of their parents with their hands on their shoulders.
They were, in looks and in essence, their father’s children. Hugo, though, was studious like Hermione and hoped
to be Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts after his career as a high-powered Hit-wizard with
the DMLE. Both were able Quidditch players and joined their Potter cousins on the Gryffindor team as Beaters,
following in their uncles’ footsteps. Both were now married with children of their own, some of whom currently
attend Hogwarts with their second cousins. Harry chuckled and shook his head. Merlin help us all. This school will
once again be overrun with Weasleys.

Another photo showed his wife’s parents, the only parents Harry ever really knew—Arthur and Molly Weasley.
Harry had called them Mum and Dad for decades, although at work, Harry called him Mr Weasley, since Arthur
was his supervisor at the Ministry. Both he and Molly were crowding 100 years old, now, and lived happily in
retirement at the Burrow. Arthur still tinkered and mucked about with Muggle artifacts like never before, despite
Molly's protests. She still swore he would blow himself and that shed to smithereens one day.

On the other side of the Potter family photo stood a wedding picture that was not his own. The bride and groom
were his own parents, James and Lily Evans Potter, standing with their friend and Harry’s godfather, Sirius
Black. Whenever Harry examined this particular photograph, he couldn’t help but touch his fingers to his lips,
kiss them, and then press them to the faces in the frame. He did this now and whispered ”I love you. I miss
you.”

He wiped his eyes and let them travel to a very large landscape photograph that hung in a gilded frame above

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the fireplace. The Weasley assemblage, some thirty or so strong, smiled and waved. It had been taken at Molly’s
and Arthur’s fiftieth wedding anniversary bash twenty years ago. Arthur and Molly sat front and center, flanked
by Ginny and Hermione, their children at their feet, with all the brothers standing behind them. Bill stood
behind them at center, flanked on either side by a still-unmarried Charlie and Percy, then George and Ron and
Harry. Fleur, Audrey, and Angelina sat on the ground with their respective children, including the newly-
engaged Teddy and Victoire. All but Teddy and Victoire were still in school back then, and a couple of them, like
his Lily, had only just started. Where did it all go?

Harry gazed out the window at Hagrid's hut. Harry was glad his old friend and former Gamekeeper still lived on
the Hogwarts grounds. Hagrid still held the keys to the gate, the last of his responsibilities, and the old
half-Giant, now one-hundred- ten years old, claimed they would have to pry the keys from his cold dead fingers
before he’d relinquish the them to the current Gamekeeper. It often fell to Neville Longbottom, Harry’s old
friend and Hogwarts’ current Herbology professor, to keep the peace between Hagrid and his successor. Note to
self: duplicate gate keys. Harry and Ginny had decided to keep their beloved house in Ottery-St Catchpole, but
would live at Hogwarts during the school-year.

Harry’s office door opened. Harry didn't need to look up, he knew it was Ginny. ”Art thou well, love,” she asked.

”Yea, but ’tis rather emotional, for it shall be some time before I can ever think of this office as mine own,”
Harry said looking up at the portrait of his mentor. ”But it is wondrous well to be back at Hogwarts. After all, it is
the first true home I ever knew.”

Ginny smiled. ”Love, we must hie to the Great Hall.”

”It is the appointed time?” Harry made a slight bow and offered his arm to his wife. ”Milady, I offer thee mine
arm and my wand. Wouldst thou grant me the honour of escorting thee to the feast?”

”Yea, Good Sir Knight,” Ginny said with a slight curtsy. ”Tonight and every night. Forever.”

Together they headed downstairs, each lost in his or her thoughts as they passed their love and nostalgia
through their bond. They entered the Great Hall together and all conversation stopped. Students were still
coming in and taking their seats at their house tables. Harry could see Hermione had a handle on the first-
years, waiting to lead them into the hall to be sorted. While he and Ginny made their way toward the Head table
he heard whispers among the students.

”That’s Professor Potter! He's the greatest wizard alive.”

”Did you know that Professor Potter can do almost any magic wandlessly?”

”I heard he stunned three fully-grown Trolls. Aren't they supposed to be quite resistant to magic?”

”He’s still quite handsome, isn’t he?”

”Look, that's Mrs Potter! There's nothing worth knowing about Quidditch that she doesn't know.”

”Yeah. I heard she’s going to be the flying instructor this year and she’s going to referee all the House
matches!”

”They’re so in love, can’t you tell?”

Finally, they reached the Headmaster's place at the table. Harry helped Ginny to the seat at his right hand and
then sat down himself and surveyed the student body, his eyes pausing at the Gryffindor table. Harry smiled and
whispered to his beloved wife. ”Gin, It's great to be home.”

”Yes, Harry. It is great to be home,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. ”I love you so... Gorgeous Guy.”

”I love you too... Gorgeous Girl,” Harry said, kissing her hand. Harry gazed into her eyes for a few moments and
then called, ”Professor Weasley, if you please.”

Harry blinked back a few tears as the great oak and iron doors swept open and Hermione led in the first-years.
Another academic year was about to begin at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

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FINIS / THE END / SLUT

A/N Ok, that's it. The end of Harry Potter and the Death Eaters Quest.

FYI the "slut" in the finishing line has nothing to do with a promiscuous woman. It's Swedish for
"The End"

It has been quite a journey for me, being the first novel length project I've ever written in English. I hope you
have enjoyed this story. My intention has been to stay true to known JKR canon and "fill the gaps".

The story has dealt with love more than anything else, and the love between Harry and Ginny most of all. JKR
left us with many questions after DH and all the Harry Potter books are basically about love. Professor
Dumbledore tells Harry this already during his first year. Love is what defeats Voldemort in the end. I couldn't
think of any other main theme for my "Book 8" than love.

It was also Harry's and Ginny's relationship I wanted to focus on. Their love seemed the most interesting to
develop because it's so strong. I also needed a new bad guy, and it turned out to be a "bad gal". Thanks to Harry
Potter wiki I found Mafalda, a JKR character never used in the books. She turned out to be ideal.

For those of you who enjoyed this story, I will write more. I'm working with Ghost Chicken (siledubhghlase) who
helps me with language and editing. There have been extended versions of this story posted as the edit
progressed.

There is a sequel to this story, "Harry Potter and the Right of Justice", taking up the story in the summer of
1999. That story will be posted as the chapters are finished.

Thank you for reading and I hope you posted a review.

http://www.harrypotterfanfiction.com

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