PhoenixSong.net :: A Harry/Ginny Fanfic and Fanart Archive

Author: MyGinevra

Story: The Hog's Head

Part: 18: Veela Magic

Rating: Teens

Setting: Post-DH

Status: WIP

Warning: Extreme Language, Sexual Situations

Reviews: 6

Words: 7,435

Updated: May 16, 2008, 9:04pm

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18: Veela Magic

Harry sat in the love seat in front of a cold fireplace and re–read Ginny's note. McPherson had just flown in the open window with it, and was now sitting on his perch, preening and cleaning the downy feathers on his chest. Harry didn't know why, but his owl looked very pleased with himself.

Despite the open window, the room was permeated with the flowery scent of Ginny's Bouquedelle. Harry tried not to use it too often, since it sometimes made him yearn for her so much that he couldn't function; in fact, once, over the past weekend before Ginny had arrived on the Hogwarts Express, Stan had knocked on the door with some business about the inn right after Harry had received a particularly hot owl from Ginny and had used the Bouquedelle. Stan couldn't help but notice Harry's condition; he thought that his boss was drunk.

But tonight, when McPherson returned with Ginny's reply, Harry had given in when he read "Your dessert." He kissed the Bouquedelle, and let the essence of Ginny engulf him.

It wasn't only the provocative salutation that drove him to use the heirloom, though. He was feeling very alone, facing another night in the inn by himself. He didn't like it when it was this quiet and he, McPherson, and Winky were the only creatures in the building. Ginny was in her bed in the Gryffindor tower — the Marauders Map lay open on the love seat next to him — but Harry was sitting by himself in front of an unlit fire. The Bouquedelle was the only answer he had.

When the scent had finally dissipated, he waved his wand — carefully — and three sticks of wood floated from a bin next to the door and into the fireplace. He flicked the wand and the logs burst into flame. He watched the fire crackle and dance. But then he saw Ginny's red hair waving and swirling in the flames; he jerked the wand and the fire went out with a loud pop.

He got up and went to McPherson's perch. The owl stopped preening while Harry stroked his back. "You know what I think?" Harry said. "I think you went to see Bailey tonight. I'll bet you had a date." He sighed. "Lucky bird."

He wandered aimlessly around the room, adjusting pictures on the wall, peering at the old photos of his parents and the Order that were sitting on the mantel, looking into the kitchen for no particular reason. He sat back down in the love seat and tried to read The Portable Spellery which he had ordered that afternoon from Flourish and Blotts, but he put it down after reading the same sentence about micro–weather charms four times.

He stared at the wall and wondered how he was going to last until Friday evening, let alone until the end of the school year. Now he wasn't worried just about missing Ginny, but how he would pass the time when he was stuck here by himself week after week. Maybe it would be different after the inn opened to the public, which was supposed to happen this Saturday evening. Then he could spend his evenings sitting in the dining room, sharing cheer and conversation with Stan and Tony, Ron and Hermione, and all the members of Dumbledore's Army who had been so enthusiastic about the inn when they helped him meet the train.

Cheered somewhat by these thoughts, Harry lit the fire again and opened his new Charms book. He read for an hour and finally dozed off in the love seat. He awoke when the sun came in the picture window the next morning, feeling stiff and not well rested. McPherson's perch was empty.

In the Gryffindor girls' dormitory, Ginny bounced out of bed with a feeling of great anticipation. She had enjoyed all of her classes yesterday, and she was looking forward to more of the same today, including double Defense Against the Dark Arts. If nothing else, there was the hope of more entertainment courtesy of Professor Pester's inability to get the better of Luna; Ginny was sure that a self–important prat like Pester would not be satisfied until he had gotten the upper hand, and Ginny didn't think that very likely. And her dreams had once again been filled with Harry, but this time they didn't leave her with the almost desperate yearning for him that the dreams of the night before had. This time she felt only a tingly expectation of what would happen when they saw each other again.

She decided to go up to the Owlery first and send a note to Harry, so after getting dressed she wrote out a quick love letter, telling him what she could remember of her dreams. She paused and thought for a moment. She grinned wickedly to herself, then wrote in delicious detail all the different kinds of desserts Harry could expect after their private dinner tomorrow. Feeling a little more tingly, she took the note to the Owlery. There, perched side by side on a ledge about half way up the wall, were Bailey and McPherson. Bailey's head was tucked under her wing, while McPherson looked benignly down at Ginny. She laughed with delight. "You don't waste any time, do you?" she called. "I have a letter for Harry. Who wants to take it to him?"

Neither owl moved. Then Bailey stepped sideways toward McPherson and gave him a butt with her head. He clucked loudly, but after another head butt he flew down to Ginny and extended his leg.

"Thanks for the enthusiasm," she said. "I guess it is a little early, but this should make my sweetie happy." He flew out a window, and Ginny went to breakfast.

Emma and Claire had saved her a seat and as soon as she sat down they began pelting her with questions about their upcoming Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

"It's the most important subject you'll take here," Ginny told them as she began eating a large stack of hotcakes drenched in butter and maple syrup. "You have to study hard, and you have to pay attention. Things out in the world are much better than they used to be, but —"

"You mean Voldemort," said Emma. "We heard about him, but Harry killed him."

"Yes, but there are still people out there who think like him. You saw those prats on the train? Why do you think Keesha and I pulled our wands on them? It wasn't to tickle them."

The girls nodded soberly. "Would they have done something to you?" Claire asked.

Ginny shrugged. "Yes, if they thought they could get away with it. They're bullies and cowards, and if they think you'll fight back, they'll probably leave you alone." She speared a sausage with her fork. "But there are a lot fewer wizards and witches like them than there used to be, and nobody's scared of them like it was before Harry killed Volde— I mean, Riddle."

"Why do you call him Riddle?" Emma asked.

"Because that was his name. He gave himself the name Voldemort because he hated his father and he thought his new name would frighten people." She smiled. "But we don't have to worry about him anymore, thanks to Harry."

The twins nodded, then Claire got a mischievous look. "So, are there really tickling spells?"

Ginny laughed. "There sure are. Do you want me to teach you some? It wouldn't have anything to do with two certain Hufflepuff boys, would it?" They blushed and started eating again.

Soon it was time for the twins' class, and Ginny went back to her room. She was free until her Charms class at ten o'clock, and was hoping for a reply from Harry. But there was none, so she packed her book bag and went to the library to finish her parchment for Professor Pester.

Harry was in the dining room of the inn when McPherson arrived with Ginny's letter. He heard the owl hooting and opened the front door; McPherson was perched on the new sign hanging above the doorway. Harriet Smythe had painted a smiling pig with an oversized head, the same picture that the crew meeting the train had worn on their tee shirts. Harry held out his arm and the owl flapped down. "Thanks," Harry said as he took the parchment; he raised his arm and McPherson flew back up to the sign. He flexed his wings and peered down at Harry. "I can't write an answer right now," Harry started to open the note, "so why don't you wait upstairs. When I'm done with Stan I'll be up."

McPherson flew up to the open casement window and Harry walked slowly back inside, reading the letter and smiling at Ginny's description of her dreams, but he stopped when he got to her list of "desserts," and looked at Stan who was working on a column of numbers in a large ledger; it was a list of groceries, meats, and vegetables that Winky would need for the inn's first week. Harry jammed the note into his pocket. He would have to wait until he got upstairs to finish it; from the little he had read, though, it seemed that Ginny's remarkable imagination had been working overtime.

He managed to concentrate on the task at hand for another hour, but the letter was burning a hole in his pocket, so as soon as they had totaled up the last column and Harry had written out the order for Stan to take to the post office, he closed the ledger and hurried upstairs.

Ginny had outdone herself in provocation, and Harry wondered where she had gotten all these spectacular ideas. He wrote a single line in reply: "I'll lay in a large supply of chocolate syrup." He sealed the parchment and tied it to McPherson's leg. "Try to give this to her when she's alone," he told the owl. McPherson ducked his head once and flew out the window.

Harry leaned on the sill and watched the bird as it became a speck and then disappeared. He could see the Astronomy Tower in the distance above the rooftops of Hogsmeade. Over there was Ginny, and over there was the only place, until now, where he had felt at home, even if it was only a bed in a room he shared with four other boys. As much as he was welcome at the Burrow, he was really only a guest there, if a well–loved guest. He looked back into the parlor and wondered if this was now his home. He loved the way Ginny had decorated and furnished it, but he had to admit that it was Ginny that made it feel like a home; would any place he lived be a home without her?

He looked at the parchment in his hand and couldn't help smiling. How had he come so far so fast with this bewitching girl? He had never thought that he could be so incandescently happy, that making her happy would be such a consuming passion, a need really. And everything that Ginny did told him that she wanted only the same thing for him. He read the letter once more with its scandalous suggestions, and laughed. He had never imagined, while out hunting Horcruxes and Hallows, that life could go so quickly from terror and misery to peace and joy.

Back in the Hogwarts library, Ginny finished her parchment and looked around to see if Luna or Keesha had come in. She found them back in a corner also working on Defense Against the Dark Arts. They went up to the classroom together, and by the looks everyone gave Luna, they were all hoping for more entertainment. Luna was completely unaware of it, and when Professor Pester walked in he collected the homework, told them to pair up again, and ignored Luna.

Ruth was getting better at non–verbal spells, and Ginny had to concentrate to keep from being disarmed. When the hour was up, Pester made some general remarks about their progress, then immediately launched into the lecture he had begun yesterday on Unforgivable Curses. He never even looked at Luna, and she once again sat placidly gazing up at the ceiling.

After about fifteen minutes, Ginny began wondering what the point of the lecture was. Pester was describing Tom Riddle's use of the Imperius Curse, which everyone already knew about. Ginny glanced at Keesha who rolled her eyes and mouthed "Boooring." Ginny nodded in bleary agreement and started drawing little hearts with arrows through them on her parchment.

Pester droned on. By the time the hour was almost over, Ginny was struggling to keep her eyes open, as were most of the class. Only Luna looked wide awake as she continued to stare at the ceiling, blinking every few minutes.

"So!" Professor Pester picked up a copy of their textbook from his desk and dropped it from about two feet up. Everyone jumped at the loud noise — except Luna — and several students looked around as though they had just woken up. "Today's homework is another twelve inches on the topic we've been discussing: should Unforgivable Curses be made Traceable? I expect you to use at least two of the cases I mentioned today as support for your arguments." He gave them his best sardonic smile. "Dismissed."

"Well, that wasn't very fair," Keesha complained as they left the classroom. "How am I supposed to use his examples when I was sound asleep when he gave them?"

"I can help," said Luna. "I think I was the only one listening, although Jace Kleinhead was snoring so loudly I had trouble hearing sometimes."

"That would be a life–saver," Keesha took Luna's arm. "Can we get together after dinner?"

"I loved the way he said we were discussing it," Ginny said sarcastically. "If that was a discussion then I'm Merlin. He just likes to hear himself talk." They all chuckled, then agreed to meet in the entrance hall at eight o'clock and find someplace they could study together.

Ginny returned to her room and found McPherson perched outside on the gargoyle. She opened the window and took Harry's message. She laughed when she read it, and quickly wrote out a reply: "Don't forget the cherries and whipped cream." McPherson dutifully took it and flew off.

The rest of Ginny's day was spent in Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies classes. All students were required to take Muggle Studies for the first semester; Headmistress McGonagall was determined that every student should learn about the persecutions that had taken place. The course was being taught by Professor Samantha Sweetwater, a pureblood witch who had been thrown into Azkaban by the Death Eaters when she refused to renounce her Muggle husband.

Ginny also spent a good amount of time sending and receiving messages from Harry. She enlisted Bailey in the operation, and by late evening, after Ginny had returned from studying with Keesha and Luna, the two owls were flying between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade every fifteen minutes. Harry started making his own suggestions for desserts, and then for the other courses, too, and Ginny had to closet herself inside her bed hangings to hide her mirth from her roommates; they had become more and more curious about the amount of owl traffic in and out of their room, and some of Harry's suggestions were making Ginny howl with laughter.

His last message of the night was not another dessert recipe, but another little package from Honeydukes with a good night note inside. Ginny sampled one of the toffees and decided that she would eat only one of the candies every night and save the rest for the next day. She fell asleep with a smile on her face and feelings of anticipation in the rest of her; tomorrow was Friday.

* * * *

Harry slept well that night — in his bed — and as soon as he awoke the next morning he looked at the Marauders Map and located Ginny in the common room. She didn't stay there long, but soon left with Dennis Creevey and went to breakfast. Harry went downstairs for his own breakfast, which was waiting on the counter in the kitchen. He greeted Winky, who was bent over with her head in the oven, shifting something around inside.

"What's in the oven?" Harry asked, sitting on a stool and pulling a bowl of cornflakes to him.

Winky peered back at him. "Winky's head," said the elf, and Harry laughed. She backed out and straightened up. "Winky is just cleaning. Winky's oven must be ready for tomorrow."

"Right," Harry nodded. "Our first night. I'm a little nervous"

Winky's large eyes twinkled. "Harry Potter must not worry about anything. When Winky was at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she was learning how to make meals for hundreds of students. Besides, she has done something last night which Harry Potter must not be angry about."

"You did something?" This was an interesting confession; Winky wasn't exactly a passive creature, but he had never known her to do anything out of the ordinary on her own.

Winky nodded. "Winky is asking Kreacher to come help her."

"Kreacher! Winky, that's a great idea. Why didn't I think of it?"

"Yes, Winky is wondering the same thing. But Harry Potter's mind is on other things."

"You're right." It was true, and he knew it, and he wasn't sorry for it; Ginny was usually on his mind. "I'm glad you asked Kreacher to come. How would you feel if he stayed here and helped with things?"

Winky shrugged. "Kreacher is Harry Potter's house–elf, so Harry Potter can do that." She smiled again. "Kreacher is a nice elf. He treats Winky like his daughter. He helped Winky when she was drinking too much butterbeer." She filled a bucket of water at the sink and went to the oven and started cleaning the burners on top.

"Why don't you use magic to do that?" Harry asked. "It would be faster."

"Sometimes Winky is wanting to do it herself," was all the elf would say.

Harry took his dishes to the sink and went out into the dining room. Today he would meet Stan at The Three Broomsticks to look at two paintings that Harriet had done for him. Before he left, though, he took out the map and looked for Ginny; she was in the library, and he saw Keesha Baker and Luna sitting at a table with her. He tucked the map in his pocket and headed out the door.

He walked down the High Street, waving to people he knew in Honeydukes, Scrivenshaft's, and the other shops along the way. It was a pleasantly cool morning, slightly overcast. He passed the post office and someone looked at him through a window. He knew who it was, and picked up his pace; he did not want to encounter Turquoise Southeby. He hurried on to The Three Broomsticks. Stan was in the back of the room talking to Harriet, and Harry could see the two paintings propped against the wall behind the bar. As he walked toward Stan and Harriet, the door that led to the field behind the building opened, and Turquoise came in.

Harry thought it was a little strange. She had entered no more than a few seconds after him, but she was not breathing fast, and did not look as though she had been running. She smiled at him, but he ignored her and joined Stan and Harriet in front of the large paintings. One was a picture of The Hog's Head itself, viewed from the side but with the new sign visible, and the other was a view of Hogsmeade Station and the crowded platform with porters and other witches and wizards standing there; Harry could even see Hagrid back in the shadows.

"These are beautiful, Harriet!" he exclaimed. "They'll be perfect in the dining room. You're a genius!"

"Oh," she turned red, "they're nothing really. But I'm glad you like them."

"I love them." He stepped back to get a better look and bumped into someone. He turned and saw Turquoise standing inches from him, smiling. "Excuse me," he said, "I didn't see you." He turned back.

She moved to stand next to him. "Oh, Harriet," she gushed, "how do you do something like this? I could never be so creative. Don't you think she's creative, Harry?"

Harry glanced at her. At least she wasn't dressed like a whore, probably because she had been working in the post office when she saw him. But she made up for it with the simpering look on her face and little swaying movements of her hips and shoulders. Harry looked at Stan, then at Harriet. "We'll take them up to the inn now," he said to Stan, ignoring Turquoise. "Do we have something to wrap them in?"

Harriet disappeared into a back room, and Harry waited, irritably conscious of Southeby only a foot away. He put his hands on the bar and tapped his fingers until Harriet returned with a large cloth. Stan placed the two painting against each other back–to–back, and Harriet slung the cloth over them. Harry took out his wand and the paintings rose a few feet into the air.

As he directed them toward the door, Turquoise ran ahead. "Here, let me get the door, Harry." She held it open while the paintings, then Harry, then Stan and Harriet went through. Harry nodded curtly to Turquoise, then began walking quickly back up the High Street with the covered paintings floating in front of him. The door closed, and Harry heard Turquoise following them. He gritted his teeth; if she tried to follow them into the inn, he would just tell her to leave. But she turned off at the post office. "Goodbye, Harry!" she called; Harry ignored her again.

They arrived at the inn and Harry directed the paintings inside. He had already decided where to hang them. The picture of the Hog's Head would be at the end of the dining room facing the bar, and Hogsmeade Station would hang on the wall opposite the door, so customers could see it as soon as they entered. He had Stan and Harriet hold them and adjust their positions one at a time while he readied his wand, and when he was satisfied he applied a sticking charm.

Winky came out of the kitchen and they all admired Harriet's work, watching people moving about on the platform in the one painting, and going in and out of the inn in the other. Harriet left, and Harry went upstairs. He sent an owl off to Ginny about the paintings — but not about Turquoise Southeby — then he checked the Marauders Map. Ginny was in her Potions class — Professor Slughorn was standing next to the desk at the front of the room — and three other girls were at the same table with her: Keesha, Luna, and Ruth Madison, a Hufflepuff who Harry barely knew. The class was not very large; the only other table with students was next to Ginny's, and there were three boys there: Salvador Chambers, a Ravenclaw; Hector Freeman; and Jace Kleinhead.

Harry scowled when he saw the labeled dot of the Slytherin. Ginny had told him in one of her notes about her confrontation with him on the train and in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Harry did not like seeing him so near her while they were all handling potion ingredients that could be dangerous. There was nothing he could do about it though, so he decided to keep the map out and check it more often.

With the map tucked into his belt, he went back to the dining room and helped Stan set places on the tables in preparation for tomorrow's first public dinner. Harry couldn't get the hang of magically folding a linen napkin so that it stood up like a tent, so he moved bottles of butterbeer, firewhisky, and Potio Vitae from the storeroom into their racks under and behind the bar. Every few minutes he checked the map, but nothing happened.

He was in the storeroom when the class ended. He saw Ginny move out of the dungeon classroom with Luna and Keesha; a few yards behind them came Jace Kleinhead. They passed a corridor that led to the Slytherin common room, and there three more Slytherins joined Jace: Serpens Lestrange, Olbert Schmidt, and Tiberius Rookwood. Harry felt his stomach muscles tighten.

The three girls walked on, and when they got to the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room, they paused for a moment and Keesha went inside. Ginny and Luna continued down the corridor, apparently unaware of the four boys, who stayed far enough behind them to remain unnoticed.

Ginny and Luna rounded a corner and the boys stopped. For a moment, as Lestrange and Schmidt turned off down a side corridor, Harry thought that they were going to stop following the girls. But then their dots sped up, and Harry saw what they were doing. They were taking a short cut to the end of the curving corridor that Ginny and Luna were walking down. They were going to surround them in a neat little trap, deep in the cellars of Hogwarts.

Harry ran out of the storeroom, banging against the bar, and tore outside. "'Arry!" Stan called in astonishment. "What's wrong?"

Harry didn't answer; he stood in front of the inn, just outside the door, unsure what to do. He could Apparate to the castle gates, but then he would still have to run up the drive, up the stairs to the entrance, and then descend at least one flight of stairs to the corridor in the basement. By the time he got there, anything might have happened.

He stood stock still for a moment, then he drew his wand. "Expecto patronum!" he shouted, and his stag burst from the end of his wand. It glanced back at him once, then rose like a shot and was gone, a silver streak flashing across the sky.

Stan was standing next to Harry, watching the patronus disappear over the rooftops. "What the hell! Is that your patronus?" He sounded awe–struck.

Harry nodded; he was breathing hard, even though he had been standing still for a minute. "Something's happening down in the basement of the castle. Ginny's being stalked by four Slytherins." He started to open the map, but hesitated when Stan looked at it curiously. "It's nothing, just an old map of Hogwarts. I'll be back as soon as — I'll be back later!" Stan jumped back as Harry Disapparated with a loud crack!

He Apparated in front of the open gates of Hogwarts. He fumbled with the map, and it took him a moment until he found Ginny and Luna, apparently back to back, each facing two Slytherins. He had no way of telling whether his stag was there. He crumpled the map in his hand and started to run. He was out of breath by the time he got to the castle, and he had an agonizing stitch in his side as he plunged down the stairs to the dungeons, jumping down the last five steps. He flew down the corridor trying desperately to remember which turns Ginny and Luna had taken. He skidded around a corner and came to a sudden halt, his heart pounding and his breath coming in labored gasps.

But what he saw almost made him laugh. His stag was standing in the middle of the corridor between Ginny and Luna. Two of the Slytherins lay on the floor in front of Ginny, clearly having been hit with full body binding curses. A third one, also bound, was floating in the air a foot above the floor, moving slowly to join the other two; Luna placed it on the floor next to them with her wand — Harry thought she was entirely too gentle — and then she smiled at Harry. She turned and began to move the last one. Harry watched, bent over with his hands on his knees, as he tried to catch his breath. "Are you all right?" he managed to gasp.

Ginny grinned at him. "The situation is well in hand, love. They never stood a chance." She stepped over Jace Kleinhead and, still holding her wand, put her arms around Harry and looked into his sweaty face. He finally caught his breath and straightened up, and she kissed him. "It's all thanks to the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher I ever had." She glanced at the stag. "And thanks for looking out for us," she whispered.

Harry pulled her into another kiss, and he suddenly did not want to wait until this evening to be alone with her. It felt as though she didn't, either, but then there were footsteps and voices behind him. Professor McGonagall was hurrying down the corridor with Professor Pester at her side and Professor Slughorn huffing after them. Harry touched the map with his wand and muttered, "Mischief managed," then jammed it into his pocket.

"What is going on here!" the Headmistress stopped and glared at the four boys lying on the floor; they all looked up at her, fury, bewilderment, and humiliation in their eyes. "Mr. Potter, that is indubitably your patronus. What is it doing here?" she fixed an eye on Harry, and he noticed that she, Pester, and Slughorn all had their wands out.

Harry pointed to the bodies on the floor. "They were stalking Ginny and Luna. Two of them came up this way and the other two got behind them. I guess it wasn't much of a surprise, though." He grinned at Ginny; she simply nodded.

"Mr. Potter." Professor Pester stepped past McGonagall. "You didn't exactly answer the question. Why is your patronus here?" He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, but Harry looked at him steadily. Ginny had taken his hand and she squeezed it.

"I thought they might need help," he answered. The professor gazed at him without expression, but McGonagall and Slughorn had quizzical looks.

"And how did you know that?" Pester asked quietly.

"I had a feeling," Harry answered promptly. He looked at the stag and it vanished; Luna blinked and lifted her hand, as though to touch the empty space where it had been. "But you need to ask these chaps a few questions," he indicated the Slytherins. "They tried to attack two students."

Professor McGonagall pushed in front of Pester. "Thank you, Professor," she was tight–lipped. "For the present we will handle this as a school disciplinary issue. If we need further assistance, I will not hesitate to speak to you. Professor," she turned to Slughorn, "I leave it to you to decide the best punishment for these four."

She waved her wand and the bound boys began to move their limbs. They slowly stood, but none of them raised his eyes from the floor.

"Let's go," Professor Slughorn said roughly, and took Jace Kleinhead's arm and shoved him down the corridor. He waved the others along with his wand, and they shuffled away. Harry could hear Slughorn muttering curses under his breath as he kept pushing the four boys along. He watched with the others until they disappeared around a corner.

"Are you two all right?" McGonagall asked Ginny and Luna.

They both nodded. "We heard them coming," said Ginny. "Two of them were running down this corridor —" she pointed to an opening a few yards from where they were standing "— and then we saw Jace and Tiberius coming behind us. So," she smiled at Harry, "we just used some of the skills you taught us three years ago. I know we've gotten some practice since, but somehow the way you taught always seemed the best." She shot a quick glance at Professor Pester as Harry grinned.

"They ran right into our curses," Luna said. "Still, it was nice to see your stag, Harry. It's beautiful." She looked at her wand thoughtfully.

"Miss Lovegood," the Headmistress said quickly, "if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you didn't produce your own patronus right now. We've had enough excitement for one morning."

"That's a very interesting patronus you have, Mr. Potter," Professor Pester said. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me how you knew where to send it?"

"I told you, I had a feeling," Harry answered evenly. "By the way, Professor, you never answered the owl I sent to you three days ago. Someone put another Dark Mark up on my building."

A puzzled look appeared on Pester's face. "That's very strange, Potter. Are you sure? I've never had an owl not find me. I was right here at the castle on Tuesday, setting up my classroom. Even if the owl first went to the Ministry, it should have known to come here." He stared at Harry for a moment, then abruptly turned on his heel and strode away.

Harry looked at Ginny, then at Professor McGonagall; she was frowning. She glanced around and lowered her voice. "I'm also wondering, Harry, how you knew what was happening down here, but I don't mind that you did. However, I would like all of you to keep this incident quiet, and also not to talk to anyone about what Professor Pester just said. Obviously he is here at Hogwarts to do more than teach, but please, keep it amongst yourselves. Can you do that?" They all nodded. "Thank you," she took a breath. "Well, I can't see any more use in standing here. Good day." She turned and walked off down the corridor.

Harry, Ginny, and Luna stood for a moment. Finally Luna spoke. "This is interesting. First we get attacked but by people who seem to be pretty stupid about what they're doing, then Harry's stag jumps out of the wall, then Professor Pester can't answer a simple question. I'm beginning to wonder about his competence. He asks some pretty silly questions in class, too."

"Where were you two going?" Harry asked.

"Keesha told us about a short cut to the library," Ginny said. "It's supposed to be along this way."

"Wait a sec," Harry turned to Luna. "Can you wait up ahead? Ginny'll be right along."

"Sure," Luna said; she stared at them for a moment with her large, unblinking eyes, then walked off.

Harry waited until Luna was out of sight, then he kissed Ginny; he held her tightly, and their bodies moved against each other. Finally Ginny gasped. "Love, I have classes this afternoon, and... and I need to start a parchment for Potions."

Harry took a deep breath. "I just wanted to say hello properly. Okay, go do your work, it'll give us more time over the weekend."

"It was wonderful to see your stag," she rubbed her hands slowly over his chest. "I didn't mind at all that you sent him."

"I saw them following you on the map. I knew I couldn't get here quick enough, and the patronus was the first thing I thought of."

"It was perfect." Ginny kissed him again.

"How about if I meet you in the entrance hall this afternoon?" he suggested. " We'll walk back to the inn together."

Ginny shook her head. "No, what I want is for you to be waiting for me there. I want to fly to you, and I want you to sweep me off my feet when I get there."

"Oh." Harry thought for a moment, then he smiled. "Okay, but don't be surprised if something happens before, during, and after you're off your feet."

"That sounds very interesting," Ginny kissed him quickly. "Go home and think about it until I get there." She laughed and pushed him away. "I love you," she called over her shoulder as she trotted off.

Harry's eyes stayed riveted on her retreating figure, then he sighed and turned the other away. But as he walked upstairs and through the castle and back to Hogsmeade, he felt light on his feet and the world seemed lit up in glorious colors. He had been afraid that Ginny would be angry again because he had tried to protect her, just as she had been on the beach at Shell Cottage. But her gratitude had made his spirits soar, and doubled his anticipation of tonight and the rest of the weekend. People smiled at him as he walked, and at first he didn't understand why, until he realized that he had a huge grin on his face. The thought made him laugh, and as he passed up the High Street he didn't even mind when Turquoise poked her head out the post office door and waved at him.

Stan had finished setting up the dining room. He was sitting at the bar with Tony Trostle, and he looked questioningly at Harry. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Four Slytherin prats tried to ambush Ginny and Luna, but their odds weren't very good. I don't think they'll try it again."

Tony handed Harry a bottle of Potio Vitae. "Glad to hear it. Don't they know the war's over and they lost?"

Harry shook his head. "Some people will never change. But forget about it. Here's to the inn." He raised his bottle and Tony clinked his against it; Stan opened a butterbeer and toasted with them.

"This stuff's not bad," said Tony. "You'll sell lots of it."

Harry chugged his down. "It's weird, Ginny and Ron don't like it, but Hermione and I do. Maybe you have to have Muggle grandparents to like it."

"Maybe. I have a Muggle grandmother. How about you, Stan?"

"Nope, no Muggles as far back as I know. And I don't like it, either."

"Maybe we'll do a study," Harry mused. "I can ask Hermione, she'd love something like that."

Tony laughed. "But maybe it's red hair. Stan's hair's a little red." He grinned at Harry. "You can test it on your kids."

It was almost noon, so Harry went into the kitchen and asked Winky to make lunch for three, and a few minutes later she appeared with a tray of cold meats and cheeses, bread, pickles, and apples. Afterward, Tony and Stan left and Harry went up to the flat.

Bailey was there, sitting on the perch next to McPherson, a note on her leg.

My love,

It felt so good when your stag appeared. I wanted to hug it. Instead I'll hug you.
I will leave the castle as soon as my last class is over at 5:00. I'm already packed.
I sent an owl to the Ministry, and Wilkie Twycross can give me another
Apparition lesson tomorrow, so let's go into London in the morning. I think I am
pretty close to being able to pass the test and get my license. Once I can
Apparate, I can get to the inn much quicker; I thought you'd like that.

It's only a few hours until I see you again, and when I do give you that hug, I'm
never letting you go.

I love you so much.

Ginny

Harry wrote back:

Ginny love,

You drive me crazy with what you write. My stag and everything else I have is for you.

I love you so much.

Harry

Harry sent Bailey back with his note, then flopped down on the love seat. It wasn't even one o'clock yet. He knew he would have to find some way to preoccupy himself, so he took The Portable Spellery outside and practiced combinations of wand movements with Proeido. After an hour he finally thought he had it tuned so that only writing on the wall would set off his wand. He looked around, again wondering what to do with himself for three hours.

He went into the kitchen; he might as well talk to Winky now about dinner arrangements, but before he could open his mouth, the elf raised her hand. "Harry Potter must not worry about dinner," she said firmly. "He and Ginny Pott— Ginny Weasley will eat upstairs in the parlor, and Winky will serve them from downstairs, just like she used to do at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry Potter should not bother poor Winky anymore, or else his dinner will not be ready on time."

Harry obediently left the kitchen and went into the dining room. He looked around, and then thought of something he could do. He went out the front door and up the lane to Dervish and Banges. The proprietor, Monitor Twohill, a very nearsighted wizard with a bushy head of white hair and a nervous habit of constantly licking his lips, squinted up as Harry came in, and after a moment he recognized him.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, how are you?" His tongue flitted in and out. "What can I do for you this afternoon?"

"Do you have any Veela candelabras?" Harry asked, looking around. "I saw one last summer at Bill's house, Bill Weasley, I mean. It was very nice."

"Ah, Veela silver is very special, very special indeed. They say it has romantic, perhaps even aphrodisiac qualities. Hmm..." he wrinkled his brow and licked his lower lip. "I don't think I have any candelabras, but let me just look over here..." He came from behind the counter and opened a large cabinet standing to Harry's right. Inside were several shelves of candlesticks and sconces. He picked up two silver candlesticks and turned to Harry with a smile. "Yes, two Veela candlesticks. They were sold to me almost ten yeas ago by a love–stricken seventh–year who probably stole them from his dear beloved. But the lady in question never returned for them."

He handed them to Harry. They were very solid and felt warm to the touch, and they shimmered as they caught a beam of sunlight coming in a window. He stared at them, and Ginny's face seemed to be looking back at him from the curved surfaces. He blinked, and her face was gone. He smiled at Mr. Twohill. "I'll take them. I need some candles, too."

The proprietor took four candles from a wooden box next to the cabinet, then went back behind the counter and put the whole order in a cardboard box and secured it with Spellotape. "Ah, you'll deposit one hundred thirty-five Galleons in my account at Gringotts?" he said, and his tongue flicked several times.

"One hundred thirty-five? Oh." Harry hadn't thought about the price, and it seemed a little steep, but then he thought about sitting with Ginny at a table with the candlesticks set in the middle, or lying in the four–poster with her as they cast a low glow in the bedroom. "Okay, that's fine. I'll send an owl right away."

The wizard thanked him, and Harry took his purchase back to the flat. He thought for a moment, then took the candlesticks to the bedroom, and put one on each of the night stands.

He sent McPherson to Gringotts with his draft and spent the next two hours walking around the flat and trying to read again — he would have to buy more books tomorrow in Diagon Alley — and, finally, at ten minutes after five o'clock, as he looked out the casement window, he saw a small figure running up the High Street from the train station, red hair billowing behind her. He raced downstairs and stood outside in front of the door. Ginny came around the corner of the lane, dropped the satchel she was carrying, and threw herself at him. He caught her and twirled her around like he used to do all summer whenever he came back to the Burrow from Hogsmeade.

He kissed her while her feet were still off the ground, then he put her down and they held each other in a crushing embrace. Harry moved his hands well below her back, and she whispered breathlessly, "Upstairs! Dessert first!" He picked up her bag, and they went around to the back door and up to the flat. In seconds there was a trail of clothes into the bedroom and they were in the bed with the hangings pulled closed. The flickering candles made dancing shapes and shadows on the fabric. Veela magic and the soft yellow glow of the flames suffused the room.

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