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Author: jadzialove Story: The Art of Healing Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 27 Words: 47,842
Disclaimer – I do not own nor would I presume to lay claim to anything in any way associated with the wonderful world of Harry Potter. It's all Jo's. (I do presume however to refer to her as Jo.) ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The Portkey Remus had activated deposited them in the lounge at the Burrow. As per usual it was a rough landing for Harry, who nearly fell onto his backside. Remus reached out with a steadying hand and helped Harry right himself before he toppled over completely. He looked sheepishly at Moony. "Thanks. I hate Portkeys almost as much as I hate traveling by Floo." Moony grinned and said, "Hopefully you'll not need either by the end of the month." Harry just smiled in response as he put Hedwig's cage down on the trunk at his feet. In all actuality his head was still spinning. Not from the Portkey though that didn't help matters. The information he'd been flooded with today was causing this sensation. It had been a very long and strange day so far and the Portkey traveling, which reminded him of his last few horrifying journeys in that manner, did not add anything good to it other than the destination. "Hullo?" Remus called. "Molly?" There was no one in the room to greet them so Harry took the opportunity to look around and received a wonderfully comforting sense of home. Everything looked just the same as he'd remembered. He hadn't been there in nearly two years and he'd only spent about a month there two years prior to that; yet this place felt more like home than the house he'd lived in with the Dursleys every single day for nearly ten years. He heard a rush of footsteps, a rustling of robes and then Mrs. Weasley's sharp voice, "There you are Remus! I was beginning to worry something had gone wrong." "I'm terribly sorry Molly. I didn't mean for you to worry. Harry and I had something to take care of and it took longer than expected." He looked truly contrite and Molly melted, "No matter, you're here now and just in time for tea." She turned her attention to Harry putting her hands on his forearms and lifting both of his arms out to the side in order to do an inspection of him. She beamed at him. "Harry dear, you look wonderful! Remus has been taking good care of you I see. We're so glad you're here." She pulled Harry into a warm motherly hug, which he received with much appreciation. He was afraid that he was starting to enjoy this hugging business a little too much. He reckoned he might be in danger of turning into some mad hugging bloke that people crossed the street in order to avoid. He could see Rita Skeeter's Daily Prophet story now: "Has the Boy-Who-Lived gone barmy?" And people would talk about him: "Hear about that Harry Potter? Sure he got rid of You-Know-Who for us, but don't stand too close. He's a mad hugger, he is." He snickered silently over Mrs. Weasley's head. That's when he realized that he was now almost a full head taller than she was. When had that happened? He'd seen her just a little over a week ago and even though he was certain she'd hugged him at Kings Cross he apparently had been in no shape to really notice at the time. "Thank you for inviting me Mrs. Weasley." She released him, gently laid a hand on his cheek and said very sincerely, "You are always welcome here, dear." Harry was overwhelmed with gratitude knowing that she'd meant it. He choked out another thank you over the tricky lump that seemed to have recently taken up permanent residence in his throat. She removed her hand and broke the tension. "Why don't we go into the kitchen, I've got some biscuits, just baked this morning and tea's all set. Just leave your things here for now, Harry. We'll get Ron to help you up to his room with them later." Harry made to follow Remus and Mrs. Weasley as they passed through the doorway but was stopped in his tracks. He heard "Harry!" just before he received a face full of chestnut curls. "Oh, Harry! You look really good! How are you feeling?" He hugged her back happily, truly glad to see her. "Hermione! I'm feeling all right, thanks. I'm glad to be here anyway. How are you feeling? Are your ribs better, then?" "Much better, thank you." He remembered what Sirius had said about them putting up with him and once again felt the need to apologize. "Hermione I'm so sorry about how I treated you and Ron both this past year. I was awful, shirty on the best of days, and you still stuck by me." She pulled back for a moment to look into his face. There were tears forming in her eyes. He didn't know what she was looking for but she must have found it. She pulled him back into another hug and he felt rather than heard her crying softly into his shoulder. He experienced that flood of emotion again when she tearfully said, "Oh Harry! It's okay! We just love you so much and we didn't know what to do to help you." There it was. Hermione had finally given a name to that feeling, the one that had driven Voldemort out of him when he'd thought of Sirius. Love. He'd loved Sirius and he loved Hermione. She was his best friend, his sister of sorts. He squeezed a little tighter in response to her statement, not anywhere near ready to return the sentiment verbally, but feeling it all the same. Acknowledging the emotion seemed to make it grow exponentially. He vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to keep her and Ron both from any harm that might befall them for just knowing him. He couldn't keep them from harm by pushing them away. Dumbledore had been right. It was too late for that. He knew it was selfish but he just couldn't fathom existing without these two people in his life. The rush of emotion was threatening to overwhelm him again so he gave Hermione one more squeeze for good measure before he released her. The sounds of throat clearing and impatient foot-shuffling broke the silence and Harry knew Ron had joined them in the lounge. Harry let Hermione go, and found an unexpected look on Ron's face, a look that Harry had been graced with before – though for different reasons. He knew at once that Ginny had been correct about his two best friends, and it now appeared that Ron was a bit jealous that Harry had had such a grip on his girl. The look was fleeting though – Ron's face cleared and then split into a wide accepting grin. One look at that grin, and Harry knew it wasn't necessary to voice the same apology to Ron that he'd just given to Hermione. Although Harry had this new fondness for hugging he didn't know if it should extend to Ron or how he would take it, or really if he even had it in him to initiate it without the spontaneity he'd had the first two times he'd started one. So instead, he grinned and stuck his hand out in an offer of a handshake. "Ron, good to see you." "You too. Welcome home, mate." Ron took the proffered hand but instead of shaking it, he used it to haul Harry to him into a brotherly hug. It was somewhat awkward at first but Harry decided that the hugging did indeed extend to Ron and that he was most likely becoming a danger to everyone around him in a most un-Voldemort like way. The Mad Hugger strikes again! He clapped Ron on the back with his free hand in a manly sort of way, and then they broke apart with some throat clearing and only a touch of embarrassment. Hermione had, at witnessing this unexpected affection between the two boys, promptly burst into a fresh round of tears and hugged them both simultaneously. They shared an indulgent look over her head and Harry thought about how lucky he was to have these two people as friends. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Ginny hated herself. Okay, that wasn't entirely true. She actually very much liked herself but for the fact that she was spying. Stealth was one of her many talents and it had served her well over the years. Nobody had more dirt on her brothers and since it was difficult to get any important information directly out of her parents, it was often a necessary evil. In this case, however, when she would have been welcome to participate, she'd chosen instead to peek in the window, the coward's way – thus tainting the usually entertaining game of espionage. She'd gone for a fly, nicking Ron's broom after briefly, but seriously, considering Harry's Firebolt, which Dumbledore had sent over the other day. The last two hours had been spent perfecting some of the Chaser maneuvers she'd been working on, albeit at breakneck speed. Although hardly regulation, the daredevil stunts, which required her full attention, had allowed her an all too brief respite from the madness of this day. She thought she might be ready to see Harry now though and wondered if he'd arrived yet. She'd carefully replaced Ron's broom in the cupboard just the way he'd left it and made her way past the lounge window. That's when she saw them. Harry was obscured by Hermione's hair as she clutched him. She couldn't hear what was said but Hermione appeared to be crying softly on his shoulder. She looked at Ron, trying to discern what had caused Hermione's tears. Her poor, insecure brother looked torn between joy and envy. Ginny could not understand why Ron had such low self-confidence. He was easily the tallest of her brothers and he was just as good looking as Bill. In fact maybe better looking because he had lovely deep blue eyes while Bill shared her golden brown ones. He was brilliant at chess, outrageously funny and even though he acted clueless most of the time, he was also surprisingly thoughtful and sometimes even sweet; which he'd proven as she watched him pull his best mate into a brotherly hug. She sincerely hoped that winning Hermione's heart would give him a deserved boost in confidence. When Ron released Harry, Ginny's breath caught. Merlin! Look at him! Neither her memory nor her imagination had done him justice while she'd been writing to him. She felt flush as her heart hammered loudly in her chest. What have I done? She couldn't possibly go in there. She might have been ready to face the boy she'd seen just over a week ago, the boy that she'd been writing to for most of that week. She was not anywhere near ready to face this beautiful stranger. She turned to flee, to give herself more time to think and perhaps compose herself, when she heard a soft voice, "What are you looking for, Ginevra?" Other than the use of her given name, there was no threat in her mother's voice. Ginny blushed crimson, she'd been caught! She'd never been caught. What in the blazes was wrong with her today? She was caught doing something that she'd claimed mastery over long ago. Her world was truly in a state of barking madness. Her mother looked at her, warm and expectant. "I…" She didn't know what to say. She put a hand to her mouth and finally gave in to the slightly hysterical feeling that was bubbling inside of her. It was a risk because she wasn't certain if it would manifest itself in laughter or tears, but it needed to be released. It came out a sort of strangled giggle. "Oh Mum! I think I've gone completely round the bend. Nothing is right today. I'm not myself. I can't make even the simplest decision. Then he has the nerve to come here looking like that? How is that fair?" Her mother seemed to understand Ginny's frantic rambling. She put a comforting arm around her and led her to the garden. "Let's have a chat. Shall we? We can sort this out, love – don't you worry." Ten minutes passed and for the second time in the last twenty-four hours Ginny discovered that her mother was a surprising and invaluable resource. She felt infinitely better after they'd chatted in the garden. Given some good and sensible advice about taking it slowly with Harry, she no longer felt like she was making a life or death decision. The answer really was an easy one, but the stakes had felt so enormous that she'd panicked. It was as simple as that: the hard part would be explaining her behavior to Harry. Her mother had suggested that Ginny should go up to her room and put a cool cloth on the back of neck to help her settle down. Ginny took this advice as well, thinking that her mum had been full of sound advice and that she needed to start paying more attention to her. She really seemed to know what she was talking about. Molly, for her part, was feeling rather settled herself. Finding her daughter in a state of panic had helped her realize something she'd forgotten. Her boys often came back for things such as home cooked meals, darned socks and laundry; all disguising a need to feel the mothering touch they would swear they don't need anymore. A girl on the other hand, would return to her mother for camaraderie, for advice and the kinship of womanhood. Acknowledging her daughter's crossing out of childhood had left her feeling quite bereft, but this new aspect of their relationship had her thrilled. She'd gotten her ally in a house full of men after all. Waiting fifteen years seemed a small price to pay. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Once Hermione's composure was well in hand, the trio moved their little party to the kitchen where they found Remus sitting at the table alone, reading the Daily Prophet. Harry's hopes to find Ginny there were instantly dashed. He sighed and looked around. Once again he found an overwhelming sense of familiarity and home in this room. Mrs. Weasley had spoken a bit of an understatement when she'd told them about the biscuits. The spread included not only the biscuits, of which there were several varieties, but also cakes and sandwiches. When she'd mentioned it a short time ago he'd thought he was too nervous to eat anything. Now, seeing all the food set his stomach gnawing at his backbone. He hadn't actually eaten those sandwiches he'd prepared this morning just before Dumbledore arrived. It seemed like days ago rather than just hours. He filled a plate, and then chose a seat at the table that afforded him a view of the staircase and the door to the back garden. He didn't want to miss Ginny if she came downstairs or in from the garden. He munched on the sandwiches and stared out the door, the top portion of which was open wide, allowing the soft breeze to fill the room with the fragrance of summer. That scent took him back to many different places in time but none as strongly as the days during summer holidays, when he'd successfully elude Dudley and his gang. He'd hide, lying in the grass looking up at the bright blue sky, trying to distinguish recognizable shapes in the clouds. The smell of summer, the feel of soft grass and thunderstorms were things that he could cherish and never have to worry about the Dursleys taking away from him. A sharp poke in the side brought him back to the present. "You okay, mate?" Ron had apparently lost interest in the conversation that Remus and Hermione were having about the lessons they were to start in the morning. "Yeah." He thought for a moment then finally decided to ask the question he'd wanted to ask since he'd arrived. "Ron, where's Ginny?" He'd tried to make it sound nonchalant but a bit of his desperation must have come through: Ron was looking at him in a strange way. "Dunno. She's around here somewhere." Extremely disappointed at having worked up the courage to ask the question, only to be no further along with the answer, Harry gave his attention to the plate in front of him with much less enthusiasm. Where was she? And what in the world could he have possibly said to her that had her so hacked off she wouldn't even greet him? He wished that he could get Hermione alone to get her take on the situation. That didn't appear to be an option at the moment. She was currently engrossed in her conversation with Remus and judging by the way Ron reacted to the hug they'd shared, he wasn't about to leave him alone with her for any length of time. He pushed his plate away in frustration. Mrs. Weasley came bustling in from the garden and to Harry's disappointment she was alone. Ron grinned broadly at him and with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Mum, where's Ginny? Harry here's been looking for her." Harry stared daggers at Ron and tried desperately to control the blush that was working its way over his face. Mrs. Weasley smiled at him in a knowing way and said, "She wasn't quite feeling herself today and she went to lay down for a bit." Harry didn't know if he should feel relieved or not. She had another smile for Harry though, and a look of such encouragement that he took it to mean she knew exactly why he was looking for Ginny and just maybe he shouldn't be too overly worried – although, he couldn't entirely relax about it. After everyone had had their fill they helped Mrs. Weasley set the kitchen to rights. Harry saw Hermione look significantly at Ron and tilt her head in Harry's direction. Ron looked pained but turned to Harry. "C'mon, Harry. I'll help you carry your trunk up to my room." This seemed slightly suspicious. "Sure. You coming, Hermione?" "Oh, I'll be along in a moment," she said vaguely. Suspicions confirmed, Harry made to follow Ron but Remus stopped him. "Harry I've some things to take care of so I'm going to take off in just a bit." Harry hated the tiny flutter of anxiety the words brought him. Remus had assured him he wasn't going to disappear, but a little part of him was still uncertain. This must have shown on his face because Remus put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder and said, "Molly's invited me for supper. I'll see you when I get back, okay?" Relieved Harry said, "Okay." He couldn't help wondering if he'd always been so transparent or if this was a new affliction. People seemed to be reading his mind lately. Another great incentive to learn Occlumency. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Ron's room was the same violent orange and a comfortable mess. Leading the way, Harry picked the clearest path to the bed that was his while staying there. They dropped the trunk by the wall next to it and Harry lowered himself down onto the camp bed. Ron seemed to be working himself up to something and was currently pacing as the littered floor would allow. "Harry, it's like this..." He stammered a bit until Harry took pity on him. "Ron, if this is about you and Hermione, I already know." Ron blinked owlishly. "You do? But how? We haven't told anyone yet." This was very nearly a whine and Harry had to hide the smirk that was trying to form on his lips. "Well, Ginny had a feeling you might've taken the plunge and really Ron, anyone with eyes could see it coming. How come Hermione didn't want to be here for this?" Ron had blushed bright red at Harry's easy acceptance but now smiled proudly. "That was my idea," he answered. "I thought it'd be easier bloke to bloke." That seemed reasonable enough to Harry but he also felt duty bound to say, "You realize I'll have to kill you if you hurt her, right?" Ron just smiled sardonically and said, "I reckon you'd have to beat Hermione to it, mate." He sobered and said, "I don't want to hurt her. I'll do my best not to. She's brilliant, y'know? I don't deserve her, I know that, and I always thought she was mental but now I'm certain of it – she picked me." His voice held a note of wonder and perhaps even awe. Harry couldn't believe what Ron was sharing with him. He really had it bad for Hermione, didn't he? Harry silently renewed his oath never to tell Ron of the very few occasions he'd allowed his deviant mind to have impure thoughts of Hermione. "Why d'you think you don't deserve her? Hermione's brilliant and she picked you, so there must be something there." He paused before adding, "I don't see it, but there's no accounting for taste." Harry's attempt to lighten the mood earned him a pillow in the face. "Ha. Ha. You're bloody hilarious. Wanker." Ron was smiling though, rather evilly, in fact. "I was going to spare you the lengthy speech Hermione prepared for me to deliver about ground rules and promises to you and whatnot, but now you'll bloody well sit there and listen to every bleedin' word of it." And deliver it, he did. Harry never realized how long winded Hermione could be. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ When Hermione finally joined them, she told him about the research she'd done for him on Post Owls and Apparation. She was unable to find anything in what she'd called her 'limited resources,' though Harry had an idea that her personal library probably rivaled Hogwarts'. "I'll look into it some more when we get back to school. Perhaps you should ask Dumbledore, didn't you say that you thought it was his phoenix that taught it to her?" Harry nodded. "Yeah, but it's only a guess really. Fawkes is the only bird I've ever seen do it, but it can't hurt to ask Dumbledore." "I never realized how little is known about Post Owls," Hermione added in a somewhat frustrated tone. "They're so common and yet there aren't any written studies explaining how they're able to do what they do. It's rather a mystery and people just take it for granted that their post will be delivered." He thanked her for trying but felt bad about sparking her interest in a mystery that might never be solved. Harry also found out that she wasn't actually staying at the Burrow with them. "My parents were not happy when I finally told them all that's been going on." It was clear, by the look on her face, that that was something of an understatement. "Dumbledore arranged for my parents' house to be connected to the Floo Network. It was a compromise with my parents so I could take the lessons. I'll be at headquarters with everyone else though in a few weeks." He felt a familiar stab of guilt that Hermione had trouble with her parents about the things they'd done over the years. Hermione, knowing him as she did, was there immediately with a response to his unspoken guilt, "Harry it's not your fault my parents were angry. I haven't been telling them anything that's happening. I chose to keep them in the dark because it was easier for me. I'm seventeen in September and they of course know that I'll be of age. We've come to an agreement that I can live with, which includes my going home each night and staying home on Sundays when they don't have office hours. We've made an exception today so that I could come to see you." She said this in a tone that left no room for argument. Harry just nodded, though he was looking at the network of scars that ran the exposed length of Ron's arms. He wasn't completely convinced that he shouldn't feel badly when his friends were inconvenienced, or nearly killed, because of him but he wasn't going to make an issue of it. Something had struck him as odd when they were in the kitchen and Harry brought it up now out of curiosity and in an effort to change the subject. "Hermione, you called Moony 'Remus' instead of Professor Lupin. When did you start doing that?" She blushed slightly. "He's been asking us to call him Remus since last summer, hasn't he? I admit I had trouble with it, but it occurred to me at the station that it might hurt him for us to call him Professor. He was rather well suited for it, wasn't he? He seemed to love teaching and most everyone enjoyed his classes. I thought it would only remind him of what he can't have if we kept calling him Professor." Ron just beamed at her. Harry was truly touched by his friend's thoughtfulness. "Hermione, you really are brilliant," he said with great affection. She blushed a deeper pink but seemed pleased by his assessment. "He's been coming round fairly often and I've enjoyed some excellent conversations with him. He's very well read – did you know? He's read all the Muggle classics, English and American, and he's given me titles to some Wizard works that I'd never heard of. I love all of our classes at Hogwarts of course, but I do miss discussing literature. I took an advanced class at University once- learning what others find in the same string of words is fascinating and he's got a particularly interesting perspective." Her eyes were lit up with excitement and she seemed about to delve deeper into the subject so Harry took the opportunity to head her off and told them about Remus' guardianship and, to some very small degree, about their visits of the last few days. That eventually led to a subject that Harry knew was inevitable – Sirius. He found though as much as he'd been dreading it, when Hermione hesitantly broached the subject Harry actually wanted to talk about him. Hermione eventually offered a comforting hug and Harry accepted it thankfully. "Oy, mate. You're gonna have to get a girl of your own. That one there is mine." They both stared down at Ron in complete incredulity. Although Ron had made the astonishing statement with a nervous laugh and somewhat less confidence than it demanded, Harry wasn't going to let him get away with it. He turned to Hermione, who appeared to have been rendered speechless. "Are you sure you want to attach yourself to a prat who can't even recognize when a bloke is hugging a girl that he considers his sister?" "It does demand some reconsidering, doesn't it?" Hermione responded acerbically. Only then did Harry's question seem to fully penetrate the fog of outrage Ron's statement had created in her brain. A quiet "Oh!" was all he heard before she launched herself at him again. Ron had enough sense to look ashamed, though it was clear Hermione wasn't going to let him get away with it. After she'd released Harry and wiped the tears from her eyes she folded her hands together in front of her primly and addressed her thickheaded boyfriend. "Ronald, I think we need to discuss this misconception you seem to have regarding ownership – and how it relates to human beings." Harry sat back down on the camp bed and watched them bicker back and forth. This was the sixth or seventh time since he'd arrived but it hadn't bothered him nearly as much as it had during the course of the last year. There was something different in it. It struck him that they seemed to enjoy the bickering, though not as much with this current argument. Harry was wondering if he should leave them alone, still uncertain about the new protocol, when he witnessed something that made him regret not thinking of it sooner. They kissed. They kissed! Right in front of him! It wasn't a great sloppy kiss, just a quick one, but it was unexpected. Knowing they were together was one thing, but to see such a display between these two people, without warning, was just ... weird. It had him somewhat at odds, actually. He was slightly jealous that they now had something they couldn't and, by rights, shouldn't share with him. On the other hand, there was a solidness about them that was sort of comforting. That was why the fights hadn't bothered him today. Each fight no longer felt like it might be the one that drove a wedge in between them forever, or at the very least, require his getting in the middle of it. He wouldn't be doing that anymore. He'd taken Ron at his word, spoken for Hermione as well; they wouldn't put him in the middle and they'd remain friends should something unforeseen break down their couple status. They seemed to remember he was in the room with them. Ron blushed to the tips of his ears and Hermione looked a bit dismayed. "Oh, Harry! Did that make you uncomfortable?" she said. He blushed lightly himself. "No, it's okay. It was just a shock really. I'll get used to it." He hoped they could move the topic of conversation along and not dwell on this. "Listen, I have something important to tell you both about, but I wanted to tell Ginny too." Hermione looked at him searchingly then asked, "Is it about the prophecy, then?" What? How did she always do that? Harry looked to Ron for a clue, but he wasn't paying any attention. He was on his bed sitting next to and slightly behind Hermione and he was currently gazing at her like she was made out of chocolate mousse. No help there. "It's okay Harry, you don't have to answer me. I can tell by the look on your face that I'm right. I've been thinking about it, and I was sure there just had to be another record of it somewhere. I was fairly certain those were Dumbledore's initials on the label, they're quite distinctive, aren't they? We can wait until Ginny is here. Can't we Ron? Ron? Ron, are you listening?" Ron's only reply was a distracted, "hmmm?" Hermione huffed in frustration. "Oh never mind." Harry could see Ron moving his arm behind Hermione, though he couldn't see what he was doing with it. Then he said, "I'm sorry 'Mione. My mind wandered." Whatever that hand was doing had an incredible and bewildering effect on Hermione. "It's okay," she said, looking affectionately at Ron. "Harry was just telling us that he had something important to share with us but he wanted to wait to tell Ginny as well." Harry didn't know which was worse, Ron calling her ''Mione' or Hermione's ire being completely tamed by it and the unseen something at her back. He felt once again like he should leave them alone, and was about to do just that, when he heard a noise at the door. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ After taking her mother's advice and resting quietly in her room for a bit, Ginny felt much calmer. She took a chance on being seen and slipped quietly from her room into the nearby bathroom. Harry had the nerve to show up here looking so beautiful, she was going to have to pull out all the stops in order to compete. The shower, along with the sweet, soothing fragrance of bergamot in the shampoo, had helped her nerves even further. She returned to her room with some of her normal control and confidence. Taking advantage of the loosened restrictions on underage magic, she cast a drying spell to help her heavy tresses along. Perhaps it wasn't exactly what Dumbledore had in mind when he spoke of emergencies, but it certainly qualified in Ginny's opinion. If left on its own to dry, her long hair would take hours. She further pushed the limits by doing a glamour charm that she had slowly perfected during last term. The result of the charm left her eyelashes darker, thicker and longer, and her skin radiant – but neither so much that it didn't look natural. Looking natural was the tricky part, and the reason it had to be perfected slowly, but it was well worth the time it took to learn. Ginny looked through the Muggle clothes that Hermione had brought to her this summer. She did not suffer the affliction of pride that her brother Ron did. Each summer, without fail, Hermione brought Ginny the clothes she'd outgrown. They, in fact, comprised the bulk of Ginny's wardrobe – school robes and Muggle clothes alike. She accepted the hand-me-downs graciously and with enthusiasm. Hermione was a bit taller but they had similar proportions, and the quality and quantity of the items far surpassed anything her parents could afford. Her earlier indecisiveness made a momentary return when she finally settled on two distinctly different outfits. What kind of message did she want to send? She wanted to knock his socks off, and maybe a little air out of his lungs, as he'd unwittingly done to her earlier. She also wanted it to appear as if she'd put little or no effort into it. The dressier of the two outfits, a flirty light green skirt and darker green shirt looked lovely on her but she decided it would look as if she was trying too hard. Casual was better. The simple style of the clothes allowed everything else to shine. After adding a clip to hold back just some of her hair, she inspected herself in the mirror. The white v-neck tee shirt had cap sleeves and hugged her curves just enough. The neckline had little, embroidered purple-and-green flowers that subtly drew the eye downward, and the light colored shorts accentuated her slim waist and the gentle flair of her hips. The strappy white sandals she'd chosen, finished the effortless look. Finally satisfied, she took a deep calming breath, opened the door and went in search of Harry. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The noise at the door had Harry searching for the source. Ginny! He stood but was rooted to the spot on the floor. How the hell was it that she could look better than he remembered, than he imagined? She was beautiful and curvy and undeniably female. Her long copper hair was pulled back from her face on top, but the length of it swung freely behind her. About a million different emotions assailed Harry at once and left him slightly breathless. Mostly though he was nervous, relieved and a touch put out that she'd kept him in suspense for so long. It was too bad his brilliant and suave first move was to croak, "Ginny!" in a voice that he thought he'd shed over a year and a half ago. He tried again in his real voice, "Ginny. Hiya. Hi." Bloody brilliant you are, real smooth. It's a wonder you don't have women falling at your feet. She moved into the room to stand in front of him. "Hi Harry. I'm sorry I didn't come to greet you sooner." Harry wanted desperately to hug her but didn't dare move. She took the decision out of his hands though. She moved towards him and suddenly he was hugging her. Willing himself not to think about how right it felt, he found himself saying, "Ginny I'm so sorry. I don't know what I said or did but I—" "—No Harry, it's okay. It was all me. We do need to talk though." He hugged her tighter then released her – though he kept hold of one of her hands. She was smiling at him so beautifully and her lovely brown eyes were lit from within. They stood there gazing at one another until he heard, "Ahem". Bugger! He'd forgotten they were in the room. Hermione was beaming at them, clearly in the know. Ron, on the other hand, looked momentarily perplexed and then, like the Kneazle that swallowed the canary. He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Well, my condolences mate. This one here is a handful," he said, motioning towards Ginny with his thumb. "Sure, she looks tichy, but she really packs a wallop when she wants to, and if you catch her in a bad mood she can be downright mean. She'll talk your ear off if you let her and of all of us, she's got the quickest and hottest temper." He leaned in conspiratorially. "And whatever you do, don't hack her off unless you want bogeys flying out of your nose and flapping mad all over your face. She can throw a Bat-Bogey Hex like nobody's business. I wish you luck." Though Ron had said this with an innocent smile and – technically – the Bat-Bogey comment was a compliment, Harry cringed because he'd felt Ginny stiffen at his words. Ginny's sweet voiced response belied the daggers in her eyes. "Ronnie, why don't you go into the kitchen and pull a book up to the tree and eat some of the wands Mum made for tea?" Harry laughed, recognizing the story Ginny had told him about the twins, at four years old, undermining their Mum's efforts in teaching a toddler Ron to speak. Ron, turning crimson, looked piercingly first at Harry then back at Ginny. "You told him?!" he said indignantly. "Yes, and I'll tell other people as well," Ginny replied in the same sweet voice. Ron turned to Hermione, who only looked confused by the entire exchange, and then back at his sister. "You wouldn't." Harry could see her eyes soften toward him but her response was laced with ice. "Try me." Ron threw up his hands. "Fine! I'm sorry! Can't take a bloody joke! You all think I'm clueless half the time, but I've been plotting to set you two up for months!" He turned to Harry. "I noticed the way you were looking at Ginny all spring, mate. That's why I said what I said on the train – I'd hoped you'd take the hint!" He swallowed and went slightly pink. "I reckoned if you were to fall for Ginny then…then we'd be brothers for real – you could be a Weasley for real. And I knew you still loved him," he said, glowering at Ginny, "even though you were seeing that Ravenclaw tosser. When you mentioned Dean Thomas I'd thought the whole thing was doomed, but I wasn't going to give up on it. This is a fine thank you for my efforts." He glared at her once more before his shoulders sagged. "C'mon, Hermione…" Harry was astounded, and he could tell Ginny was too. She laid a hand on her brother's arm as he made to follow Hermione out the door. "Ron, wait. I'm sorry I lost my temper," she said apologetically, "Just tell her the story – trust me, you tell brilliant stories. She'll think you're adorable and sweet, and she'll be up in arms for you by what Fred and George did. I promise." Ron didn't respond. He looked at Ginny searchingly for a moment then nodded, and as he moved out the door he didn't look nearly as downtrodden. Harry looked at their entwined hands. He couldn't believe he was finally in the same room with her, let alone holding her hand. Feeling bold he moved his thumb gently across hers and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and her cool calm seemed to crack a bit. Harry was immensely relieved that she wasn't as composed as she had first appeared. "It's rather stuffy in here, isn't it? D'you want to go for a walk, Harry?" She made to pull away from his grip but he tightened it gently, conveying his desire to remain linked but leaving it loose enough that if she really wanted to escape him she could do so without any real effort. She didn't pull away again, but did pull him toward the door. His heart was hammering in his chest as he marveled at the feel of her small hand in his larger one. He'd never held hands with anyone before, not like this. It was an insanely wonderful feeling. They made their way down the stairs and through the kitchen. As they passed through that room, Harry saw Ron and Hermione at the table and Ron seemed to be regaling her with the story Ginny had exposed up in his room. Just as Ginny had promised, Hermione seemed properly appalled at the twins' prank at the age of four and she smiled adoringly at Ron as he spoke. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Ginny seemed to relax a bit once they were outside. "We can't go too far because of the new wards." She was leading him to the paddock and the makeshift Quidditch pitch. Once there, she stopped dead in her tracks and abruptly sat down bringing Harry with her. He caught himself and sat down hard in front of her thinking maybe Mad-Eye had a point about protecting one's buttocks when he felt his wand poke him sharply in the back of the leg. He looked around at his surroundings. A line of trees to his left and the field in front of him stretched as far as his eye could see. It made him long for his Firebolt and he said so to Ginny, who informed him that his broom was actually there in the broom cupboard. Dumbledore had sent it over from school the other day with Remus. "I was sorely tempted to use it too, when I went for a fly this morning but I used Ron's instead." He was thrilled. He was going for a fly! He and Ginny had some talking to do, but eventually, he was hitting the air. He finally looked at her. He wished fervently that he hadn't noticed the round fullness of her bosom or even that she had one at all, but his eyes kept being drawn down to the little flowers around the neck. It was all he could do to keep from looking again. He concentrated on her face. Merlin, how could you not have expected her to be so pretty? He reckoned he'd been so focused on talking to her and how it made him feel that he hadn't really thought about her appearance in great detail. Yes, he'd had an image of her in his mind, but that image paled in comparison to the real thing. It should have been uncomfortable the way they were sort of gazing at one another but it wasn't – at first. After a bit though, Harry wished she would say something. She'd said they needed to talk and initially she'd tried to pull her hand away. Maybe he had misconstrued her intentions. The longer she didn't speak the more urgent it became for him to break the silence. If she didn't want to be more than friends then that would have to be okay with him because he did not want to lose her friendship. He started to say as much. "Ginny listen, if you're, I mean if you just want to be... it's just that I thought we... that is-" Damn! What was wrong with his brain? "If you just want to be friends, it's okay, I understand." He said it in a rush, and it was painful. It was not at all okay but it would have to be if that's what she wanted. She narrowed her eyes at him, untangled her hand from his and crossed her arms in front of her. He wished she hadn't done that as it once again brought his attention to, and accentuated, the lovely round mounds by pushing them up slightly. He shook his head and forced himself to look at her face and found her eyes were blazing. He had less than a second to brace himself for whatever she was going to unleash. "I'm that easily put aside, am I?" she said in a quiet, icy voice. Harry had finally had enough. He'd still been slightly miffed about being held in suspense all day while she'd had a refreshing kip and now she was hacked off again for no apparent reason. "No Gin, actually you're not at all easily put aside. In fact I'd be fairly devastated but I don't want to lose your friendship on top of everything else. Although at the moment I'm having a bit of trouble remembering why." He said this all rather crossly, his frustration getting the better of him. He moved to get up, to get away from her. He'd get that fly in sooner than he thought. "No! Harry, please wait." She looked panicked "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me today! I can't believe I'm messing this up so completely!" She grabbed his hand. "Please, come back." There were tears forming in her eyes. Harry thought he gave in a little too easily but he couldn't stand seeing her so upset. Not to mention it was the tiniest bit gratifying to see her as off balance as he felt. He sat down in front of her again this time with his legs crossed, Indian style, like hers so that their knees were almost touching. He didn't let go of her hand, but he did let the hurt and frustration he was feeling, show on his face. Not that he'd been able to stop his emotions from being displayed loud and clear on his face in the last week anyway. "Honestly Harry, I never act like this. I'm all jumbled up inside and I've been doing and saying the maddest things all day. I'm truly sorry." The threatening tears had dissipated from her eyes, but the plea in them was equally as hard to resist. "It's okay. I've been out of sorts too." He picked at the grass with his free hand. "Did you mean what you said? About being devastated?" He looked up. He had said that, hadn't he? Well, he'd already decided to be honest with her. "Yeah, I meant it." He looked away again not wanting to see her reaction. "I reckon I thought maybe we were starting to get…er… closer, and I thought maybe you could, I mean I know – Hermione said you gave up on me. I guess I just hoped maybe you could change your mind. I mean give me a chance to do it properly. I think I might have developed a…er…that is I might sort of…erm…fancy you?" You are one smooth talker Potter. You'd best keep hold of her hand so she doesn't run away screaming. He wondered if it was possible for a blush to set one's hair ablaze – his face felt hot enough to start a fire. Ginny sort of gaped at him, seemingly gobsmacked by his inept declaration. She didn't try to get away from him though so either she was okay with what he'd said or she was too stunned to flee in terror. Then she beamed at him. Okay, good sign that. "Harry, you know I had a, well a crush on you when I was little, right?" He blushed again then nodded. "I never thanked you properly did I? You were always so sweet to me whenever our paths crossed. You never made fun of me for it. Thank you." Oh no, what is she saying? She's going to let me down easy because I was nice to her when the tables were turned? "Sure, no problem." "When you first wrote back to me last week, I was really surprised when you asked about Dean. I thought – hoped, actually, if I'm honest about it – that you were trying to find out if I was seeing him or not. I was pleased when that's what it was. I became nervous though, because the notes we were sending each other started making me feel like I did when I had that crush. But it was so much fun to talk with you like that. We have so much more in common than I ever imagined and I really like being your friend. I pushed my worries away. Then when you told me about how you felt – about Sirius I mean – I got scared." Once again Harry's face betrayed his thoughts. "No, no Harry not what you said but rather that you'd chosen to tell me of all people. I know it was probably really hard for you to reveal that and that you chose me, I..." She faltered closed her eyes momentarily then continued, "Harry, am I mad, or does this feel somehow really…important? What's happening between us, I mean." Harry thought for a moment and nodded, realizing that word summed up how he was feeling about it. "Yeah, important is a good word for it. Vital is a good one too." All week he'd been feeling as if there was an unseen force pushing him toward her and her toward him so the word he really wanted to use was destined, but if she was in any way uncertain about how she wanted to proceed, that would surely send her running. Hell, he'd only thought the word and he felt like running away. He certainly had no cause to assume the inevitability of it. "Yes! Vital. Harry it's hard for me to admit that I'm – scared – about things. I hate being coddled and I want people to think I'm strong and capable. I want to be strong and capable. This," she motioned with her free hand to their linked ones, "scares me because it feels so important and I hate being scared even more than I hate being coddled." Harry didn't say anything; he was rather at a loss as to what she was getting at. She sighed and tried again. "When you wrote to me about keeping me safe, about shielding me from what's happening in the world, I… Harry, I spend an awful lot of energy fighting my mother's efforts to keep me ignorant of the bad things in the world. It's really very much too late for that, isn't it? I don't want to be protected, I don't want to be shielded, I want to do the right thing and fight like everyone else. So when you said nearly the same thing Mum is always saying, it set me off. The truth is I used that to lash out at you because I was scared. Scared because for some reason, this," she motioned with her hand back and forth between them, "feels so bloody important, like the whole world depends on it. I wasn't angry with you, I was angry with me and I should never have taken it out on you. I am so sorry." Harry nodded, accepting her apology. She hadn't been angry with him after all, though she'd taken exception to his instinct to protect her. He made a mental note to remember that about her but he didn't know how he'd overcome his own natural inclination to do so. He supposed he'd worry about it if it should come up again. The important thing was that she wasn't angry with him. He wanted to feel relieved, but the turmoil he'd been in most of the day had him cautious about their status. "So what does this mean, for…er…us? I mean do you want to, you know, be more than friends?" He lifted their hands up as he looked at her with uncertainty. "I had a talk about this with Mum and believe it or not, she made some sense. Basically she told me that we should take it slow." Harry smiled, having received the very same advice. "She said that if we take it slow we won't feel overwhelmed and we can enjoy it. I agree, although I imagine her idea of slow is probably a lot slower than mine." She tossed him a cheeky grin and he was truly glad he was already on the ground. That sounded like a 'yes' to him. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest. "So we'll give it a go then?" "Yes, please." She grinned at him again. He wanted desperately to kiss those pretty pink lips off of her face but he wasn't sure if that was allowed or even how to go about such a thing. She was sitting there, looking so lovely and doing to his hand what he'd done to hers earlier: her thumb was gently running over his, then across his palm and it was going directly to the center of him. He added his own movement to hers and it intensified the effect. Suddenly he realized that their faces were mere inches apart. They had been unconsciously leaning in closer together. He could feel her warm sweet breath on his face and he couldn't take it a moment longer. He closed the distance; although he'd managed to hit his mark, it was a clumsy kiss that had them both giggling. He wanted another taste and a chance to do it better. He started to move in for it but Ginny beat him to it. She let go of his hand, reached up and pulled his glasses off and put them on his legs between them. Then she placed a hand on either side of his face tilting his head to one side. He saw her blurry image come closer to him and closed his eyes when he felt her warm, soft lips touch his own. Now this…this was a kiss. And no one was crying. Feeling her lips moving over his in such a way, he'd thought he'd found heaven; until he felt what he assumed was her tongue gently slide across his lips. He opened his mouth in surprise and realized that was what she was after. She seemed to know what she was doing, and it felt bloody fantastic, so he did his best to just follow her lead. He gave his full attention back to her lips and the lovely things she was doing with her tongue. He experimented with his own and was rewarded with some of the most incredible sounds he'd ever heard. Each new sensation quickly became his favorite one ever. He didn't know what to do with his hands. Of course he knew what he wanted to do with them, or at least had an idea, but he knew that was a line they wouldn't be crossing today. He left them safely on the ground where he'd planted them to support himself and gain a little leverage as he leaned forward. He was supporting Ginny as well since she was leaning very much into him and both of her hands were currently busy running through the hair on the back of his head and neck, which was causing an incredible tingling feeling up and down his spine. Her thumb found a spot on his neck that he never knew existed, at the same time she gently nipped at his bottom lip with a little bit of suction to finish it off. This sent every drop of blood in Harry's body racing for a single destination. He released a moan involuntarily. His entire body was throbbing with pleasure that was threatening to consume him. "Gin, we have to stop." No! You idiot! Don't ever stop! Ginny opened her eyes slowly and pouted sweetly. "Why? That was brilliant!" He groaned, put his glasses back on and fell back onto the grass, careful to raise his knees up in order to maintain some semblance of dignity. Ginny crawled over to lie next to him. He shifted so he was on his side and propped his head on his hand. "Yeah a little too brilliant; I…er…need to…erm…calm down a bit." He was once again blushing deeply. Realization dawned across her face. "Oh!" she said, giggling. Mimicking his position, she propped her head on her hand so that their faces were once again within inches. "I like it when you call me Gin," she murmured, looking at him sweetly. "I got a little thrill whenever I read it in our notes." Harry had written it once as an experiment and found he really liked the familiarity of it. She hadn't objected so he'd continued to do it. She hadn't mentioned it at all actually so he didn't think it had affected her as it had him. "Doesn't anyone else call you Gin?" "Not really. Fred sometimes calls me Gin-Gin and Bill calls me Ginger Lee. You know like – gingerly? It's a left over nickname from when I was little but really, Ginny is already a nickname, isn't it?" This surprised him. He'd always assumed that was her name. "So what is your full name then?" "Ginevra," she said, and sounded none too pleased about it. "You don't like it? It's pretty, sort of exotic-sounding." "Well, I don't know. Maybe it's because I usually only hear it when I'm in trouble with Mum." She grinned at him but he had a feeling she was only half kidding. There was that fascinating single dimple that appears every time she smiled. Feeling daring, he leaned forward and kissed it gently. She looked at him questioningly, though with a smile. "Sorry I couldn't resist." "No need to be sorry, that was lovely." He brushed some of the hair that had come loose from her clip away from her face and replied, "Not as lovely as you." Wow! Where did that come from? "Why Mr. Potter, that was rather smooth. I didn't know you had that in you." He feigned a hurt look, but the happiness bubbling inside of him prevented him from holding on to it long. "Actually neither did I," he snorted. "I may not be able to do it again, so don't get used to it." She snorted in return and pushed at his shoulder. Knitting her eyebrows together in curiosity, she lifted her hand to his face and traced her finger along his jaw. "Harry you've shaved!" He blushed again but was also pleased that she'd noticed. "Remus taught me to do it the Muggle way until I can do the charm. How do you know about shaving?" Ginny, perhaps thinking the less that Harry knew about what underage witches resorted to, the better, answered, "Do I need to remind you that I have six older brothers? Dad prefers the Muggle way of course and he taught all my brothers though I don't know how many of them still do it that way." Something she'd said struck a chord of fear in him. Six older brothers! Oh, he was in for it. "Ginny, are any of those older brothers going to kill me?" "Don't you worry about it, I can handle them. The only one who's ever given me trouble about boys is Ron. And I have enough dirt to keep the lot of them at bay for decades if need be." She smiled at him and he raised an eyebrow wondering just what he'd gotten himself into. The dimple appeared again but instead of kissing it he leaned in and kissed her lips softly and sweetly. He delivered this one without hesitation and she returned it in earnest. It was full of promise, full of hope. He reluctantly broke off the kiss, sighed contently and rolled onto his back. The sky had turned soft shades of red, orange and purple. Though he was reluctant to break the spell, he supposed they ought to be getting back. The fleeting thought of being pummeled by any or all of her older brothers had successfully chased away any lingering tightness in his trousers. "I guess we should head back to the house." "Yes, we should. Mum's preparing a feast and she'll need our help. There's supposed to be quite a crowd here this evening." As they walked back to the Burrow at a leisurely pace, he reached down and took her hand in his, relishing the feel of it and the fact that it was okay for him to do that. The day was ending much better than it had started. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Just as Ginny had promised, there was indeed a crowd. All of the Weasleys were there, with the exception of Charlie, who was in Romania, and of course Percy. Remus had come back wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt of all things, and he'd brought Tonks with him. Harry had seen Mrs. Weasley looking at the new couple with pure delight and approval, even as Tonks knocked over a glass with her elbow and Remus' hand darted out to save it. That's when he realized he wasn't the only one Mrs. Weasley had taken in to her extended family and it pleased him to no end that Remus also had her loving attention. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were there as well as Mad-Eye and various other Order members. It occurred to Harry that there would likely be an impromptu Order meeting here this evening. As little as three weeks ago this would have had him chomping at the bit for information but Dumbledore had promised to keep him informed and he'd decided to trust him. Later in the evening, he feigned a need for the loo and slipped into the house for moment, seeking the quiet within. He was unaccustomed to the chaos that reigned over the Weasley household and he'd had what felt like a hundred important conversations today with little time to reflect on them. All of the conversations, but most especially with Dumbledore and Remus, had been buzzing in the back of his head creating a sort of constant background noise that was starting to make his head ache slightly. He found himself in the lounge and wandered over to the fireplace. There were family photos all along the mantelpiece and on the walls surrounding the stone hearth and chimney. He watched as toddler Ginny ran through the grass and stirred up butterflies all around her. Another showed Ginny and Ron, maybe six and seven years old, covered in mud and slime. They were each grinning proudly and Ginny was trying to contain an enormous frog in her small hands as it struggled to get away. It looked like Ron kept trying to help her and she kept resisting his efforts. There was a photo of the twins who waved at Harry just before they abandoned their frame. They turned up in a photo of Percy who was posturing and showing off his Head Boy badge. He watched for a bit as they gave Percy a hard time, before moving on to the next photo. As he looked at all of the happy smiling Weasleys at different ages, the things that Dumbledore and Moony had said seemed to coalesce into something solid: his mum had made this possible. Her sacrifice had not only saved his life, it had given the people of his world over a decade of peace, free of the threat of Voldemort and his lackeys. He shuddered to think what these photos would depict if Voldemort had been around. His mum was the real hero in all of this. He felt sad and, at the same time, immensely proud to be her son. He went back outside but instead of rejoining the party, he stood apart from the group and observed them gathered around the picnic tables, candles flickering merrily in the breeze. Every single person he cared about on this planet was right here. Though most of them did not know it, their futures rested squarely on his shoulders. Ron and Hermione had their heads bent together and were in deep discussion about something that had them both smiling. Tonks and Ginny were having an animated conversation that both Fred and George joined, each saying something that had both ladies whooping with laughter. The other end of the table was somewhat more somber. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Bill and Mr. Weasley and most of the other Order members were discussing something that seemed quite grave. Bad news was likely on the way but Harry refused to dwell on it right now. It'll still be bad news in the morning. Tonight was for enjoying and he planned to get as much enjoyment out of life as he possibly could. Apart from the brief mention in Ron's room earlier, he hadn't spoken to his friends about the prophecy just yet. He only hoped that Ginny wouldn't change her mind after finding out about it. He needed to tell her though, so she would know what she's getting herself into. He was frightened beyond measure at the thought of facing Voldemort and at the thought of dying. He now knew, though, he would willingly make the same sacrifice his mother had made if that's what it came to. He could finally understand what Sirius had tried to tell him last year – there are some things worth dying for. He could almost feel the approval of Sirius and his parents' surround him even before the thought was fully formed. Harry was just wondering where Remus had got to when the man appeared at his side. "Skulking in the shadows, Harry?" Without looking at him Harry replied, "Nah, just taking a breather." Remus followed Harry's line of sight. "They're amazing aren't they?" Moony was clearly talking about Ginny and Tonks but Harry took in the group before him and agreed. They, along with the man standing beside him, really were amazing and he thanked whatever forces of nature made it possible for him to have them all in his life. "Yeah, amazing." Harry looked at Ginny. She'd changed into a light-green colored dress that was held up by thin straps over her shoulders. He knew nothing about fashion or even what the material was, but he did know that it was flattering to her figure and her coloring. Quite frankly she looked like a dream. Remus clapped him on the shoulder and led him back to the table. Harry retook his seat next to Ginny and she smiled widely at him, without losing the thread of her conversation with Tonks. He didn't know what the future held for them, or if she'd decide to chuck it all out the window when she found out about the prophecy, but where they were at the moment certainly felt right enough. If he could get the blushing and the butterflies under control it would be perfect. He'd assumed that they would have gone away after they'd talked, after they'd come to a decision, but he was still blushing and fluttering madly in is belly whenever she looked at him. Ron, who was sitting across from him, leaned in and asked motioning toward the other end of the table. "What d'you reckon is going on down there?" "Looks like bad news," Hermione added. "Should we grab some Extendable Ears?" Ron encouraged. "Find out what's going on?" Harry shook his head. "Nah, I don't even want to know tonight." Ron looked stunned by this. "It'll still be bad news in the morning," Harry and Ginny said this in unison. They grinned at each other in surprise. Harry blushed. Ginny said, "Hi." and Harry responded in kind. "How are you?" she asked, still smiling. He smiled at her. "I'm fine." She grinned in understanding, and then looked at him shrewdly. "How'd I do?" he asked. "Passed. With flying colors." Harry wanted very much to kiss her but didn't dare in front of everyone. He took her hand instead and realized as he joined in the conversations around him – he was a lot more than fine. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ A/N – Words cannot properly convey my thanks to Musings. I don't know what I did right to draw you as my beta, but something lovely was smiling on me that day. Working with you has been an unbelievably pleasing and gratifying experience, and I am eagerly anticipating the next one! Thanks, as always, to my good friend Casey. He refused any credit, but a simple 'thank you' doesn't seem like enough. If you like this story, even a little bit, then it's owed in part to his efforts in shaping it. Thank you to SiblingCreature for the sharp-eyed reviews that kept me on my toes and made me think. Thank you to Checkmated's Kjirstyn for her contributions toward making a better story. A big 'Thank you' to all who took the time to read the story, and especially to those who leave a review. I appreciate any feedback!
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