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

Author: Felix Felicis

Story: Unbreakable Bonds

Part: 6: A Safe Place

Rating: Young Teens

Setting: Pre-HBP

Status: WIP

Reviews: 10

Words: 11,198

Updated: September 5, 2008, 6:57pm

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6: A Safe Place

B/N: Yeah… sorry about this chapter's tardiness. I will stop make predictions of future postings. I hope you'll find this worth the wait!

The landing was rough, even for a Portkey, and as Harry got to his feet he shook his head to clear the shock. The stones of the bridge beneath him surely hadn't helped any. As he got his bearings, he noticed Ginny still on the ground and offered her a hand. She gratefully accepted and together they took in the view across the water. As Ron and Hermione got their own bearings, Harry turned toward the peninsula, searching for the house he was so familiar with.

In the distance, at the end of a long lane, was a low-built house with white walls and brilliantly green grass. The vivid gardens made Harry smile as he picked up his bag, grabbed Ginny's hand and started off down the well-worn path toward the Teacher's house, motioning for Ron and Hermione to follow. They grasped hands and quickly fell in step beside Ginny.

"The bridge crosses over here from the mainland," Harry said. "If you go right, the lane takes you down to the Teacher's house at the end of the peninsula. If you go left or straight, it takes you into the forest and on the other side is the lake. Let's go up to the house first, we can explore later. I want you to meet the Teacher."

Ginny watched him out of the corner of her eye and was surprised at how comfortable he appeared as they walked down the lane hand-in-hand. His whole persona was different, from the gait of his walk to the slope of his shoulders. After several minutes it finally hit her. He was truly relaxed. She realized, sadly, that she couldn't remember a time when he had been so truly, completely at ease.

"Do you like it?" he asked, rather close to her ear.

"I love it," she answered, not entirely trusting her voice with him so close, "it's… wonderful!"

They followed the lane along the river to their right, watching the sailboats go silently by. The river was so wide, in fact, that it almost looked like a lake, and on the far shore the bustle of the local town could just be seen. As they got closer to the house, the trees on the left thinned out until there were only those planted purposely to frame the lane and the brick garden wall, which was now appearing to that side under a heavy growth of ivy.

Finally they reached the house itself, and Harry, dropping his bags on the ground, sat down in the grass and started untying his shoes. The others looked on curiously until Ginny started to giggle, then plopped down beside him and unlaced her own shoes. A moment later, all four of them were walking the rest of the way up to the house, enjoying the soft feel of the grass under their bare feet.

At the front door, Harry paused and knocked, grinning contently, though by the time the door opened, he was positively beaming. The man at the door smiled broadly and reached around Harry, pulling him into a one-armed hug. He had the look of someone you could instantly trust, with the aura of a father and teacher. His hair was salt and pepper, with more salt than pepper, and his eyes were alight with life and contentment. He was well-built and perhaps a few inches taller than Harry. His age was rather hard to determine. His clothes were functional: jeans and a pastel pink shirt. Harry had to smile at that. This man didn't care what anyone thought of him, although Harry did have to wonder if he really knew that many people around town.

"Come on in out of the sun," he said to the others, "your bags will find their own way inside, never fear."

They stepped across the threshold into an open room where the air was cooler and a mild lake breeze drifted through the open windows.

"Now," he said, "let me have a look at you." He looked around at them all, as if summing them up. For a moment Ginny felt as if she were back in Dumbledore's office. He had the same penetrating gaze, as if he could sense everything about you but would never betray your trust by telling you he could.

"You must be Ginny, I've heard a lot about you," he chuckled, offering his hand. She took it and felt a bit of warmth in her cheeks at the inference, but nodded easily.

"And you're certainly Ron." They shook hands firmly while Ron nodded and said, "Yes, sir."

"Oh," the Teacher laughed, "there'll be none of that here, but we'll get to that later. And you must be the famous Hermione Granger," he said, turning to her.

They grasped hands and Harry smiled at the blush that spread quickly across Hermione's face.

"Why don't you have a seat?" he offered warmly, gesturing to the many chairs and sofas spread around the room.

"Sure," they answered tentatively, still in the process of sizing up the man in front of them.

"Uh, sir?" Hermione asked. "What should we call you, if you don't like 'sir', and you don't mind my asking?"

"Well, for starters, let me say that you're allowed to ask anything you please. You are here to learn, after all. For my part, I'll try to give you the most honest answers I can. There's no sense in beating around the bush and wasting time with half-answers and such, is there? Now," he winked at Harry, "I can also tell you that sometimes I find that a question is the best answer to a question. I imagine Harry, here, can tell you all about that and how frustrating it can be. As for what to call me, Teacher is fine, or you may call me John if you wish." He leaned back in his chair and smiled pleasantly at them. The room was quiet for a moment before Ron broke the tension.

"John it is then," he said, "Er, just…where are we staying?"

"Let me show you," John said, getting to his feet and motioning for them to follow. They walked out through a side door and into a beautiful garden, though they hardly had time to look at it trying to keep up. He led them along a path right through the densest part of the garden toward the high brick wall at the far end. As they approached, an arched opening became visible between two tulip trees and they passed under it. On the other side was a comfortable-looking guest house with a large porch and white-washed shingle walls.

John stopped and motioned toward the house. "You'll be staying here in the guest house. Four bedrooms upstairs, two on each side, a decent kitchen and a very comfortable sun room. I've watched the sun rise and set many times from that room."

The look of excitement on their faces was hardly disguised and he smiled as he turned away.

"I'll leave you to it for a while then. Dinner's at six. Most of the time I'll make dinner for you but you'll have to take care of breakfast and lunch. We'll work that out later. See you in a bit." With that, he disappeared back into the garden.

"See, what'd I tell you about this place!" Harry exclaimed.

"Oh, Harry, this is incredible!" said Hermione, looking around and trying to take in everything at once.

Harry led them up the steps onto the porch and laughed out loud at the four rocking chairs grouped around a small table off to one side.

"Looks like he knew all four of us were coming! And here're our bags," he added, peering through the screened front door. "I never have figured out how he does that…" He stroked his chin thoughtfully until Ron appeared next to him, waiting to get inside. Harry opened the door and let them all enter, feeling his heart skip a beat as Ginny caught his eye and stepped inside, brushing against his arm as she passed. He could have been mistaken but it almost seemed that she did it on purpose.

Immediately inside the door was a staircase going up to the second floor. On their right was the lounge and to the left was the study. Harry passed through the study and led them out into the sun room. A small gasp from Hermione summed up their thoughts as they turned in place trying to capture the whole view in their minds. The room faced south, and as the Teacher had said, the windows on either end offered a wide-open view to the east and to the west where the sun would be setting in a few hours' time.

From the sun room they went into the kitchen, which was large enough to work in comfortably and held a table for four, but still had the cozy feeling of a cottage. The kitchen passed them into the lounge and then back to the front door where they picked up their bags and climbed the steep steps to the bedrooms. After a moment of awkwardness and a great deal of blushing, Harry and Ron turned left, while the girls turned right. Just as the Teacher had said, there were two bedrooms on each side. A door between the rooms allowed Harry to close out Ron's snores, while another door led to a connected bathroom for them to share. Harry guessed the girls had a similar arrangement.

As soon as Harry dropped his bag on the floor, he sat on the bed and let out a contented sigh. Swearing he heard three similar sounds coming from the other rooms, he laughed a little and opened his bag with his wand. His clothes he sent sailing smoothly into the closet, while a few quills and some parchment landed in a pile on the desk. His prized photo album came to rest on the table next to the bed. Opening the window, he let Hedwig out to explore and then went downstairs and outside to sit on the porch. Ron came down a few minutes later and the two boys waited quite some time for the girls to show.

"What took you so long?" Ron asked when the screen door squeaked shut behind them.

"Well," replied Hermione, "we had to put away our things and then change clothes. Since we know what the weather here is like now, we could dress more appropriately." She flashed a smile at Ron, who, from the look on his face, had instantly forgotten what they were talking about. Harry on the other hand, was still incredulous.

"I don't see what takes so long. I mean, I didn't change clothes, but if I'd wanted to it wouldn't have taken me half an hour."

"Yes," said Ginny matter-of-factly, "but you're not a girl."

"Oh," said Harry, "well, if that's the case, then – "

"It's almost dinnertime, I think," laughed Hermione. "Why don't we go? I don't want to be late."

Harry had to relent but decided it was for the best anyway. Ginny attracted him far too much and he would have had a hard time letting the subject drop. Suddenly he understood a little of why Ron and Hermione had fought for so long – mostly just to keep each other's attention, even if in a negative way.

They made their way back to the main house through the garden, stopping a few times to admire its many benches, walkways, and fountains. Harry led them around to the back entrance and then inside, where John was waiting for them, reading a newspaper. He smiled at the bemused look on Ron's face on seeing the paper.

"I find," John said, "as I believe your illustrious Headmaster does, that keeping up with the Muggle news can be very insightful, although here we get very little news about what's happening in Britain, so I don't hear much about Voldemort."

They all paused for a moment at such a casual mention of the name. Sensing their hesitation, he asked, "Now, why do you think I can say his name so easily?"

He looked around at them and seeing no reaction, added, "Oh, come on, you must have some answer. Didn't Harry tell you how much I like to ask questions?"

"Well," said Ron, "maybe it's because you're so far away?"

"Maybe because you've never met him," Ginny added.

"Because you're not scared of him?" said Hermione.

The Teacher seemed to ponder all of their answers. "I think you are all correct. I have never met him, I only know about him through what I hear from others. I do live far away, although I travel occasionally to places you're quite familiar with, including Hogwarts. And… I am not afraid of him. Now, shall we eat? Dinner's waiting on the patio."

Talk was sporadic while they ate. Everyone was too busy enjoying the barbequed chicken, baked potatoes, and sweet corn to engage in any serious conversation. When they were finished, John sent their dishes away with a quick wave of his hand and asked if they might enjoy a bonfire on the beach. Harry could see that Ron's smile nearly reached his ears and figured his own was the same.

Ten minutes later, having changed into shorts and t-shirts, the boys met the girls on the front porch of their house. Even if Harry would have had time to think about what the girls were bringing for the beach, it still wouldn't have prepared him for the sight that awaited him.

Both girls had their hair pulled back into ponytails, and while he was used to Ginny sporting the look, Harry noticed how different Hermione looked. She appeared much more relaxed and casual than normal. Harry laughed at Ron, who seemed quite struck by the new look. Both girls wore tank-tops and shorts, with open sandals on their feet. Harry tried hard not to look at the spread of freckles reaching over Ginny's shoulders and felt his ears getting warm. He quietly wondered if he'd ever seen that much of her body before.

Following the path that Harry led them on, they reached the beach in a few minutes and found John already hard at work stacking wood. Two large logs sat in an 'L' shape far enough back from where the fire would be that they could sit in the sand and lean back without getting too hot.

Harry pulled off his shoes and socks and set them by the end of the path on the sand. He stepped out into the sand and was happy to find it still warm from the fading sun. He looked back over the dune grass inland, but couldn't see either house from the beach. The soft wash of the waves called his name and he walked down to the water to let it cool his feet. The sun was resting on the horizon now, casting brilliant arcs of reds and oranges through the few clouds scattered about. Harry found himself quite at peace. Only a tiny fraction of his brain still realized that nothing in the outside world had changed. For now, there was only sunset, beach, and friends.

John had a comfortable fire burning before long and Harry picked a log and sat down in front of it, hoping that Ron would choose the spot next to him. By a fortunate stroke of luck, John sat down on the log by Harry, handing him a long, straight stick. Ron and Hermione took the other log, while Ginny stood close to the fire warming herself.

"That's to poke the fire, Harry," John said, indicating the stick, "and you know where the wood is, right?" Harry smiled and nodded, while John leaned back a little and looked out at the sunset. "Beautiful, isn't it? There's nothing like the view across the water." His eyes fell on Ginny, "Oh, I'm sorry, Ginny. Please, take my seat. I'm going up to the house now, anyway." He glanced at Harry, "send me a message if you need anything, all right?" Harry nodded.

John stood up, leaving the only open seat for Ginny next to Harry. Even in the light of dusk, the blush in her cheeks was obvious and she stammered as she spoke.

"I don't… I can stand. The fire's nice."

"Oh, go on and sit down, it's just Harry," Ron grumbled.

Harry swore he could almost see the steam pouring out of her ears as she glared at her brother. Then, still looking at Ron, she sat down next to Harry, rather closer than normal, and looked pointedly at Ron. For his part, Harry tried to keep his composure, as she was now so close he had an easy view of the freckles he had been trying to ignore earlier. He forced himself to look at the fire and it seemed as if its heat had suddenly increased.

The sparks in it were mesmerizing. The swirls and furls of smoke and flame seemed to excite the imagination and before long they were engaged in a deep conversation about the very core of magic. It was leading to something Harry had wanted to tell them for a long time but was still trying to figure out how.

"So the school uses some of the most ancient wards known to wizard-kind," Hermione was in the middle of saying, "I'd be surprised if even Dumbledore understood them all. The founders were really powerful and each one put up his or her own layers, above and below each other, so in the end, it's nearly impenetrable. I imagine they even added their own special protections to their houses and common rooms. I heard Dumbledore say one day, when he was talking to—"

Harry had been listening intently but suddenly his world was turned upside-down in the most unexpected way. Ginny, who was still sitting rather close to him, had moved her hand and slipped it into his, her smooth fingers fitting perfectly between his and her thumb rubbing the back of his slowly. The sensations it sent through his body were exhilarating. Suddenly it seemed as if Ron and Hermione were gone and they were all alone together on the beach. Nothing else mattered, and even if Voldemort himself had appeared, Harry wouldn't have noticed.

He glanced down at their hands resting gently together and allowed himself a contented smile. He flicked his eyes past Ginny's and saw, to his amazement, the same cautious smile on her face as she gazed at the fire. A small shiver ran down his back and he wondered if anyone else in the world could be as happy as he was right now. It just didn't seem possible. They were holding hands! He was holding hands with Ginny! It wasn't just a passing run-down-the-lane-pulling-her thing either. There was something he felt in her presence, but couldn't explain. It was a peace, a healing, a comfort that he'd never properly felt until her cautious touch in this quiet moment.

Just then his thoughts were interrupted by a small voice.

"Harry looks like he wants to tell us something. I wonder if I should interrupt Hermione?"

"No," Harry said.

"No what?" Ron asked, looking confused.

Just then, Harry realized what had happened. "Sorry, just… just talking to myself."

"But, Harry," said Hermione, "you never talk to yourself." She looked at him curiously.

"I - I guess I just got wrapped up in my head. Sorry to interrupt. Er, go ahead. Wards, right?"

"So, anyway," she said, still eyeing him suspiciously, "I imagine it's a lot like the protections around the Sorcerer's Stone, remember? There were different levels and tests and things that you had to get through, only around the castle it's probably a hundred times more complicated."

"But," said Ron, "it's still possible for someone to get through. I mean, we did it, and we were only in first year."

"Right," she replied, "but the school's magic is so much older and more complex. And I bet that the Headmasters have each added their own layers too. Can you imagine? There must be hundreds of layers by now." She looked at the fire in awe, while Ron just smiled at her, letting her enjoy her moment.

Then the small voice was back. This time, Harry recognized it inside his mind. It touched him that the voice sounded concerned.

"Thanks, Hermione, but it really feels like Harry wants to tell us something."

Harry continued to look straight ahead into the fire, but focused his mind on Ginny and spoke the words in his head. "How… how did you know? I haven't said a word."

He turned to look and met her gaze. They were filled with such emotion and compassion that for a moment, Harry was completely lost in them. Green mingled with brown until he drew his gaze aside once again.

"Harry?" her voice came again, "Are you… in my head?"

"Erm, well, yes. I didn't mean to pry, and I'll stop now if you want." He turned his head away, but felt her other hand on his arm. He turned back to her and met her eyes, seeing the pleading in them.

"Don't go," she said, "I like you… I mean, I don't mind you here."

"Okay, just make sure you don't have any, er, weird thoughts - I might hear them."

She just smiled, so he continued, "I did have something I wanted to say, but it's not really important. I… I can tell you later. It's just about the magic of this place."

The next moment, to Harry's amusement, she picked up Hermione's conversation as if she hadn't missed a word.

"So what you're wondering is this: can the same thing be built around a person? If it's possible, we might want to look into magical wards used around other places, not just Hogwarts. We can see what they have in common and what they do differently. Maybe look into entrapment spells as well. They're meant to be used to hold someone in one place, but what if we could turn it around and hold everyone else out. Of course, it would be much more difficult to build it around a person, but still worth looking into."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Only it's going to be really hard to find these things out, they're secret for a reason. We'll have to spend some time asking around. Maybe the Teacher knows some places to look."

"He does," Harry said suddenly. "I mean, I know he knows of at least one because… it's here, this place. We're protected right now. You probably figured that out because no one minded us coming here, but it's deeper than you can imagine. This is a place that Dark Wizards can't touch, even if they did know about it. This whole peninsula was created by magic. Not magic like Wizard's magic, but by real magic, all by itself. The Teacher, er, John, told me a little about it. That's why I came here so often. This place is safer than Hogwarts. We can't be touched here."

He looked at his friends and smiled. Their awe was evident, and the effect was just as he'd been hoping for.

"I don't know all the details but he told me that it's been this way for a really long time, maybe thousands of years. The native people used to use this land for ancient magical rituals."

"But how did John end up here then?" Hermione asked.

"Hmm," Harry thought out loud, "I don't know. He's never told me. Maybe when we work on layered protections he'll tell us, but I don't know. I've been coming here for a long time and he's never really talked about it."

Hermione smiled at him, "Did you ask?"

"Well, no." He grinned and they all laughed.

Their talk continued late into the night. By the time the fire burned down to coals, Ron and Ginny were asleep, while Harry and Hermione's discussion had lost most of its fervor. Eventually, the cool of the night and the lack of firelight sent a shiver around the group and they trudged slowly back up to the house. After a bit of stumbling and helping each other up the stairs, they separated to their rooms and fell straight to sleep.

****

At the time when the sun would normally be peering over the horizon the next morning, Harry made his way down the creaky stairs toward the kitchen, annoyed at the rain that had absconded with his plans for another perfect day.

"Good morning," he yawned and waved to the girls sipping coffee at the table. Between them a stack of toast and a stick of butter lay untouched.

"Ron's still asleep, I think," he continued, glancing at the uneaten food and lifting an eyebrow. "Not hungry this morning?"

They shook their heads sleepily while he turned to look out the window.

"Great weather," he said sarcastically, watching the rain fall in sheets, "at least we can Apparate to the main house without getting wet – thank goodness for that."

He poured himself some coffee absentmindedly, then took a sip and nearly spit it back out.

"Sometimes I forget I don't like coffee." He looked at his mug critically and poured it down the sink, frowning. "Don't we have anything else?" He set the mug down and started rummaging through the cupboards.

"I think there's some m-milk," Ginny stifled a yawn, "in the fridge, and some orange juice. You like orange juice."

Harry absently pulled the pitcher of juice out and poured himself a glass. As he sat down at the table, he crinkled his eyebrows at Hermione, who seemed to be enjoying her own private joke.

"What is it?" he asked.

She just giggled more. "Honestly, don't you see it?"

"No," they said in unison.

"Oh, well, too bad." She got up, smiled smugly at them and took her mug of coffee upstairs.

"What's up with her?" Harry asked.

"No idea," Ginny said, taking a sip from her mug and turning to watch the rain.

Harry marveled for a moment at how pretty she was with her red hair falling down around her face, and how her white pajamas with little red hearts made her seem more like the little girl he remembered from so many years ago. And yet, she wasn't that girl, and she hadn't been for a long time…

"Do you remember the first time we met?" he asked, drawing his words out carefully.

Her cheeks blushed a little and she turned away.

"Yes," she sighed, "I was just a stupid little girl, watching my hero get on the train without me. Ha! Can you believe I used to think of you like that – like my knight in shining armor? I was so jealous of Ron, getting to be friends with you that year and always writing home about it." She tried to mimic Ron's voice. "Guess what Harry and I did today? We knocked out a troll! Can you believe it? A troll!"

She shook her head and laughed a little, "I used to idolize you. I even had a Harry Potter doll. It didn't look anything like you, come to think of it."

Harry cast his eyes down at the table. Something in what she said seemed to drain the happiness from him and he suddenly wished he were back in bed.

A touch on his arm and he jerked his head up to see the concern in her eyes.

"Harry," she said softly, "I didn't mean for it to sound like that. I mean I don't think of you as a prince anymore because the real you is so much better. The hero I imagined doesn't exist. The real person is you, and you are a hero, but you're human as well. You're someone whose life's been harder than I can even imagine, and you have strengths and weaknesses. If I could have the hero I used to imagine, or the real you, I would always choose you."

She blushed again but didn't try to hide it. It was worth it to see the trace of a smile cross his face. Any bit of happiness she could give him was worth its weight in gold.

"You know," she smiled sadly, "Tom called me a silly little girl once, right before he took me into the Chamber in first year. I guess he wasn't too far off the mark."

Harry wasn't quite sure how to respond. He felt a strange ache inside thinking about the pain and guilt she must have felt. It was something they'd never really talked about and he secretly wondered if she'd ever talked to anyone about it.

"You're not, you know… a silly little girl. I mean. In fact, I think you're great. If it were the same thing all over again, I'd fight for you again. Looking back on it, my only mistake was not getting to know you sooner. I regret that now."

Her face flushed again and even though she could meet his eyes now, all she could say was a small "thank you."

He marveled for a moment at the passion in her eyes and reprimanded himself again for never allowing their friendship to grow properly.

"I… I think I'm going to go take a shower now. See you in a bit?" He paused for a moment. "I, uh, if you like, maybe we could talk about it more sometime?"

"I'd like that," she nodded, taking another sip of her coffee and turning again to watch the rain with a very contented smile.

In an hour's time they sat with John in the same room where he had greeted them the day before. He was nearing the end of a piece of toast and finishing a story from the local newspaper. He laughed out loud as he finished.

"Ha! These Muggles think of everything, don't they?" He folded the paper and tossed it over his shoulder where it disappeared into the air. Harry smiled, reminded once again of why he loved magic so much.

"Well, I trust you had a good night's sleep and a good breakfast. Tonight you'll find the cupboards and refrigerator fully stocked for the rest of your week. Like I said yesterday, you'll take care of your own meals, except for dinner, which will be here every night. Whatever food you like, just make a list, and it'll be delivered once a week. Also, you're free to use magic to clean your clothes and such, but if you're interested, there's a Muggle washer and dryer in your house. Now, are we ready to get started?"

He rose and motioned for them to follow him. They walked along a hallway through the house, admiring the photos and paintings on the wall, until they reached the end where a tall, richly-stained wood door stood before them.

"This is one of the places we'll be working," he said as he turned the handle, leading them inside.

The room reminded Harry a bit of the Apparition practice room at the Ministry. It was very large with a high, sloped ceiling, and it appeared very bright, but he couldn't quite figure out where the light was coming from, perhaps the walls themselves. Inset to the left side, in the wall they had just come through, was a darkened room with bookshelves covered floor to ceiling in books, and several deep leather armchairs spread around. On the other side of the entry door was a stairway, cut into the wall and winding away below the floor. The room in front of them was empty, but Harry had a feeling it would be easy enough to conjure whatever they needed for training.

"I suppose you're wondering why we never worked in this room before, Harry? Well, I just finished it. When Dumbledore wrote to me about you coming to stay this summer with your friends, I thought we might need a more adequate place to work. Of course, like I said, we won't limit ourselves to this room. The library in the corner is entirely for your use, if you choose, and the stairs by the door lead down to the catacombs. We'll be making good use of them as well.

"Have a seat," he added, twisting his wand so that five mats dropped onto the floor. They gathered together in a small circle and he dimmed the mysterious lights with a flick of his hand. To Harry it felt like the walls had suddenly moved in closer to them.

The Teacher's voice was now deeper and quieter but Harry heard every word. His interest was growing by leaps and bounds.

"I have a lot of things in mind for us to study this summer," John began, "not the least of which is your amazing ability to connect your minds together. Dumbledore and I are very interested in learning more about that skill and helping you develop it. I'm certain it will be a powerful ally in your fight against Voldemort. We're also going to work on battle tactics and strategies, including wards, hexes, curses, and other means of disarming your attackers. You must also be able to turn a fight your way. If you are in a forest, use the trees; if it is dark, create a helpful light. At the same time, you must have a good defense and you must know how to hide and disappear. If you are wounded, you must also have a working knowledge of the healing arts."

Harry noticed John's eyes fall on Ginny as he said this.

"And finally, Harry, you must have a way to destroy Voldemort. This will be your most difficult challenge. Neither Dumbledore nor I have the answer. It lies within you and you must discover it for yourself."

Harry felt that all eyes were on him and he swallowed thickly. "I know, or at least I figured that," he said darkly.

"Don't be concerned with it right now. When the time comes, you'll understand what you need to do. Now, where would you like to begin?"

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated his efforts, stilling his thoughts and focusing on the small group surrounding him.

I want to begin by talking without words, he thought, opening his mouth and gasping for breath from the effort. Ron's strong hand gripped his shoulder and held him up.

"Harry wants us to… work on talking without words."

"I agree," said the Teacher, "now let's see just how far Harry can take this."

"No," cried Ginny, "don't let him hurt himself! You saw how hard that was!"

Harry looked at her in surprise but was even more astonished at the smile on his mentor's face.

"Very good, Ginny," the Teacher said, "that was exactly the response I was hoping for. I had no intention of going further, I only wanted to test your feelings. It seems you have a good gauge of Harry's strength and I'm going to trust you to help keep him from hurting himself. Even though I know Harry would never go too far."

The sarcastic comment and the smile would normally have irked Harry, but today he felt oddly comfortable with it. In the presence of friends it was nice to have people who knew him so well looking out for him.

"You two," he added, indicating Ron and Hermione, "have known Harry for a long time and you've seen him in difficult and dangerous situation, so I'll also ask you to keep an eye on him. Harry, for your part, I only ask that you give your friends your ear and promise to consider what they have to say."

Harry nodded.

"Okay. Now, Harry, would you mind explaining for us your experiences so far? Tell us everything – how you worked it out, your emotional strength, your physical strength… the more we know the more we can learn to control it."

Harry looked around at them and exhaled deeply. "Sure, right… well… it started with Ron. You know, when those bastards – sorry – had him locked up. I was sitting up in the common room and Dumbledore had forbidden us from leaving the castle to search for Ron. I remembered what we had worked on here. I don't know, I guess I'd never had that much focus before, or purpose, because I found him that morning and told him we were coming to bring him back.

"Then, with Dumbledore… and Hermione," his face colored, "I, well, I used their magic with mine and it made me stronger. Strong enough to find him again and stay long enough for Dumbledore to bring him back. Then there were two… no, three other times. The first was when we went to visit Ron's family. It was only just across the room, but again, with Hermione's help, I talked to Ron… well, kind of took the mickey out of him for not sitting with us.

"Then, the next morning, Ginny helped me wake him up. That was the easiest time I've ever had of it." He felt his cheeks getting warm again. "The last time was last night on the beach. I was going to tell everyone about the protections of the land, which we want to know more about by the way, and Ginny somehow recognized that I wanted to say something. We only talked for a few seconds, but it wasn't as hard as before.

"One thing I've noticed is that, besides being able to talk to people, I can hear their thoughts sometimes. I think it's only when they're directed at me, and only when we have an especially close connection… friendship or something.

"That reminds me, there was another time. The first day I was back at Hogwarts after Ron was kidnapped - that was the first time I heard someone's thoughts. It was with Hermione, when we were down by the lake… that was when she heard me thinking… well, she told you all about it over butterbeers in Hogsmeade, so I won't repeat it now.

"And then… and then last night I heard Ginny thinking about interrupting Hermione to tell her I had something to say. That was… wait a minute, Ginny, how did you know I wanted to say something anyway?" He turned to look at her.

For her part, Ginny seemed as confused about it as the rest of them.

"I don't know," she said. "I was sitting there next to you and… I could just feel it. I can't explain."

Harry felt all their eyes drilling into himself and Ginny and he hoped they wouldn't read too much into it. He was especially concerned about the Teacher, whom he knew he could never hide anything from. However, that man only looked at them keenly for a moment and then asked Harry to continue his explanation.

"The only thing," Harry added, "that seems consistent is that it's really tiring. The first time I found Ron I was so exhausted I slept for another few hours. I don't know if it's been getting easier after that, or if it's just easier over shorter distances."

John looked thoughtful, "I think it's probably a case of both being true. As you master this skill it will probably get easier, but also as your subject is closer, it will probably take less effort. I think it's something worth examining more closely."

"I've got an idea," announced Hermione, "let's set up a trial for Harry. We could have him try it over different distances and with different subjects. If he keeps the contact short enough, each trial shouldn't be that tiring, although there would be a general trend downward." She bit her lip and for a moment Harry was sure she was going to add something, but she stayed silent.

"Is that all, Hermione?" asked John kindly, "you're allowed to say anything you like here, you know."

"Well, it's just… I can't help but wonder if Harry is the only one who can do this. Can it really help us if we can't all do it?"

"I think that's an excellent question and one I don't truly have an answer for right now. Harry may very well have some abilities that are solely his. However, I'm inclined to say that this isn't one of them. I'll spend some time with all of you working on this skill. It's not an unknown magic, and I believe with better training than sitting on the sofa at Ron's house, you'll all be able to achieve some level of proficiency. As to your idea for a test, I think that's exactly what we need to do, so let's do it."

"You mean, right now?" she asked, surprised.

"Sure, there's no time like the present. You can all Apparate, right? I think that will give us enough distance to make it a reasonable test, and… yes, I believe you should all try it. How about Ron, then Hermione, then Ginny? Yes?"

They all nodded, eager to get started. Harry could barely contain his excitement. This was so different from how he had learned at school. This was the real thing, this was chasing after the very essence of magic. And best of all, he was surrounded by friends.

The Teacher took Ron, Hermione, and Ginny aside and gave them instructions on where they were to go. It would work best, he decided, if Harry didn't know how far away they were, a blind test. Harry would judge his effort on two trials with each person, and in the end they would uncover how far away they were for each trial and how much effort was required for each person.

They walked down to the beach, where Harry sat with the Teacher on the sand, just where they had sat the night before. He was relaxed and smiled at them all as they walked away. On the walk down to the beach, they had decided on the addition – not today but on another day – of a similar trial, but with the help of someone else's magic. In this way they could begin to feel and learn each other's magic, to become comfortable in it and trust it. In time it would become an everyday practice. For now, though, Harry sat by himself with only the Teacher nearby to observe. Having left his shoes behind somewhere – Harry wondered where – he ran his toes through the sun-warmed sand and closed his eyes. Beginning by relaxing his warm feet, he began to calm his mind and prepare for the adventure ahead of him. This was real magic.

****

The next week passed in a comfortable blur. Each morning, the Teacher led them through mental and physical exercises to help them focus. The days were filled with activities varying from studying books, to practicing hexes, to deep discussions about magic. They entertained themselves by watching the sun set on the beach or from the comfort of their sunroom, and by learning to work their Muggle outdoor barbeque. It was only by Hermione's quick thinking that Ron didn't completely loose his eyebrows in a particularly large fireball one evening.

They were learning to work alone, but more importantly, they were learning to work together. Though in many ways their friendship had given them trust in each other, they now began to depend on that trust in deeper ways. After the incident with the barbeque and Hermione's quick thinking, the Teacher started incorporating trust exercises into their daily work. He began small, with minor spells and hexes that required the effort of two people, but, as he explained, one day it would eventually lead to putting their lives in each other's hands.

"As you are well aware," he said, "Voldemort has many followers, each of whom is unique and each of whom is vicious. They'll stop at nothing, once the word is given, to take your life from you. While I have every faith that you'll be powerful enough when you meet them to destroy them, it's impossible for one person to watch all directions at once. You will have to depend on each other. Have you heard the phrase 'divide and conquer'? Well, it means exactly what it says. You must learn to depend on each other and distribute the enemy amongst you. This is especially true if Voldemort is present. He will most likely focus all of his energy on Harry, which will require all of Harry's energy in return. This will leave you three," he gestured to them, "with the task of taking on the Death Eaters while also defending Harry from them, thereby giving him a chance to focus properly on Voldemort.

"In addition to fighting, I think we will also start working on observing each other's stress level. Remember the first day when I wanted Harry to show us all how far he could take his thoughts, and to see if he could talk to us all at once? Remember how Ginny stopped me before he even had a chance to think about it? That's what I'm talking about. It's generally easier with romantic involvements like you have here, but I'd also like Harry and Ron, and Hermione and Ginny to work together. You need to be able to determine not only how much further you can go, but also how much further everyone else can go."

Harry opened his mouth to protest. "But Ginny and I aren't – "

"Oh, yes," John added, "sorry, I was referring to Ron and Hermione."

John's smile was plain, and from the blush on Ginny's cheek, Harry knew she had taken it just as he had. In his mind, he wondered if she was a little disappointed by the fact that John's comment hadn't applied to them, too. He didn't bother to investigate his own feelings on the subject, knowing all too well what they would be. Learning new and complex spells was hard enough without the distraction of the most beautiful girl he had ever known working beside him, stopping now and then to tie back her entrancing red hair and smiling sideways at him.

On one perfectly cloudless afternoon, with a bright blue sky above, Harry pulled his hands from the dirt of the garden and wiped his brow on his sleeve. He smiled in spite of the dirty work, marveling at how different he felt about working in this garden versus working in the Dursleys garden. This was enjoyable, that had been torture. On the other hand, a warm summer's day full of hard work generally makes a teenaged boy's thoughts turn to taking a swim in the lake, and Harry was no exception. As they hadn't yet had a chance to really swim – their time on the beach had so far only allowed for dipping feet – Harry laid down his tools and sat back on the grass, squinting up at the sky.

"I think I'm going to go down to the lake for a swim," he announced. They all looked up from their work. Harry could see the wheels turning in their minds, creating images of relaxing in the warm water and diving into the surf. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, sharing I'll-go-if-you-will grins, then nodded to Harry, saying "We'll come, too." Ginny, on the other hand, looked slightly concerned.

"D'you want to come, Ginny?" Harry asked.

"Well… maybe I'll just bring a book and sit on the beach. I don't… I don't know if I feel like swimming," she answered noncommittally, without looking at him.

"Suit yourself," he said, standing and moving closer to her, "but I know I'd have more fun if you came." He flashed her a small, nervous smile, wondering briefly why it bothered him so much that she didn't want to come.

Finally she stood, looked at her dirty hands, then wiped them on Harry's shirt. Though the day was warm, he felt a coolness on his skin where her hands had touched him, as if a mark had been left behind.

"I guess I'll come," she said, "but I still reserve the right to sit and read if I want to."

"All right, see you in bit?"

They all nodded and made for the house. Harry and Ron were changed and back on the porch in only a few minutes, while the girls took somewhat longer.

****

Sitting on her bed, Ginny picked up her swimsuit from beside her and looked at it, turning it over in her fingers. It wasn't the condition of it that bothered her – it was actually brand new – what bothered her was what it might look like in Harry's eyes. She jerked her head up at Hermione's voice as she stepped into the room.

"Ginny?" her friend asked.

She didn't reply, instead looking back at the suit in her hands.

"Ginny, are you all right?" she asked again.

"Fine," she finally answered, "I just… What if it doesn't look good on me? I'm not… I know I won't look as good as you… and… I know I'm being stupid, but what if Harry doesn't like it?" She tossed the suit on her bed and propped herself up with her hands on the side of the bed. The words had come out very fast but that didn't make them any less true. She had just admitted to Hermione that she still liked Harry. Her friend came and sat down beside her.

"You're going to look fine, you know. I think you'll look better than me. After all, you've got all that Quidditch practice on you, while I just sit around and study. I bet you're in a lot better shape than I am. Besides, I'm sure Harry will think you look good, no matter what you're wearing. He's not like he used to be. He… well, he notices you now." She looked away with a smile. "He looks at you like Ron looks at me…"

"Okay, enough talk about how my brother looks at you," Ginny laughed. "I just… I don't have what you have, and even though you're Ron's girlfriend, Harry's still going to notice you first."

Hermione was slightly affronted, but tried not to show it. "That's not true! He's like a brother to me, and brothers don't look at sisters like that. Anyway, you're all he's interested in. You could show up wearing your school robes and he would think you look great."

Ginny still didn't look entirely convinced but when Hermione stood up to go, she picked up the suit again and promised to be down in a few minutes.

"Wearing it?" Hermione asked commandingly.

"Yes, wearing it," she admitted grudgingly.

****

A few minutes later, after Hermione had explained to the boys that Ginny was still getting ready, she did in fact come down wearing her suit. Like Hermione, she was wearing shorts and a t-shirt over it, so neither Ron nor Harry thought much of it. If truth be told though, Harry was having an amazingly hard time walking without tripping over his feet because he was so caught up with wondering what she looked like in a bathing suit. He'd been swimming before, but only at the Weasleys' house, and only with Ron and his brothers. This was entirely different.

The sun was warm and by the time they reached the beach, Harry and Ron both quickly stripped off their t-shirts and ran across the blazing hot sand down to the water. When they realized the girls weren't with them, they turned back to wait.

Had their mouths not been open from their run moments before, they would have dropped open now. The girls had pulled their t-shirts off and were now folding their shorts in neat little piles with their sandals. Harry was sure his heart had stopped beating, and, glancing at Ron, was fairly sure he was in the same condition.

The girls turned and motioned for them to walk back to them. They trudged back up through the sand, oblivious to the heat, and mesmerized by what they saw. Both girls wore one-piece suits. Hermione's was solid blue, while Ginny's was all black. As they walked, Ron turned to Harry, and seeing the look on his face, spoke quietly so the girls couldn't hear.

"Harry, mate, that's my girlfriend and my sister, which are you looking at?"

"Sorry, but she… I mean they look good." Harry shrugged his shoulders and turned back to stare at Ginny. He'd never seen her look so beautiful before, and had Ron not been there, the look on his face would surely have destroyed all of her earlier worries. The feelings he had buried down deep were struggling up inside him. At the moment, he was making no effort to hold them back.

"H-Hi," he choked out as they met up again. It wasn't much, but it was more than Ron could muster.

"Hi, boys," Hermione said, as if about to scold them for not doing their homework. "You'd better put on something to block the sun, otherwise you'll get burned to a crisp. Turn around so we can work the charm on you."

They didn't move.

"Turn around," she said again.

Not wanting to arouse her anger, they grudgingly turned around.

"Umbra," both girls said, pointing their wands at the boys' backs.

Immediately, Harry felt as if his skin was being covered over with a smooth layer of cool oil, and then the feeling was gone.

"Did it work?" he asked, looking over his shoulder and touching his back with his hand.

"Of course it worked," Hermione said. "Now it's your turn. The spell is umbra, with the emphasis on the 'um'."

Harry moved to stand behind Ginny, picking up his wand from his clothes. He paused when he reached her back.

"Harry?" she said nervously, "What is it, is there something wrong?"

"No, no. Er, what's the incantation again?"

"Umbra," she said, giggling a little. Perhaps Hermione had been right about him after all…

Harry said the word and she shivered a little. It wasn't so much the feeling of the magic, as it was the way he said it so close behind her. The feeling of him doing something so personal for her gave her goosebumps and made her heart skip. That familiar old feeling was returning again, but for some reason it didn't bother her at all.

They walked down to the water together not so much as a group but as two pairs, and then the two boys waded out to their knees.

"Is it warm?" Hermione asked with concern.

"It'll be warmer in July but it feels good now," Harry answered.

Finally the girls started wading into the water, surprised that it was warmer than they expected.

After a bit of splashing around during which everybody got very wet, Harry reached his hand just under the water, curling it into a fist. Having worked with the Teacher on some wandless magic, he wondered if he might be able to make this work. To his surprise, a moment later a spout of water sprayed upwards several feet above his head.

"Harry! What was that?" Ron shouted from behind Ginny, whom he was trying unsuccessfully to dunk.

"I don't know. I was just trying to spray water without my wand, and it worked!" Beginning to get a little excited about it, he turned toward them, keeping his hand just under the water. Suddenly a powerful jet launched over Ginny right onto Ron's head. Hermione was laughing so hard that she nearly fell over herself.

"Ron!" she laughed. "You should see your hairstyle - it's classic!"

Harry nearly hurt himself laughing as Ron made his way over, wiping water from his face.

"Okay," he said, "if you're going to do that, at least play fair and show us, too."

"All right, you put your hand just under the water and make a fist." He paused to watch them all try. "No," he added, "you have to leave it open. Like you're holding a broomstick. Then just force the water to make a spray."

"What's the charm?" Hermione asked.

"There isn't any. I don't know, I just did it by… well, I just did it. If you can feel the magic in the water, it's not hard at all. Focus your mind on the water, that's all there is to it."

After several minutes, Ginny was the only other person to master the skill, and she took great pleasure in spraying Ron every time he tried to concentrate.

While the others practiced, Harry swam, jumping into the waves and diving to stand on his hands with his feet above water. He hadn't felt so free in a long time. He knew just how he would be spending a lot of his time this summer.

An hour later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way back up the house together. Ginny, who wanted to swim a while longer, stayed in the water. Harry would never have let her stay by herself had she not allowed them to put an anti-drowning spell on her. Harry was still amazed sometimes by the things that Hermione knew, and by the look on Ron's face, he felt exactly the same.

When they reached the house, Hermione sat down on the porch and gave Harry a significant look. With a foul face, Ron went inside alone while Harry sat down.

"Nice day, isn't it?" she asked conversationally.

"Sure."

They rocked in silence for a while.

"Hermione? Why did Ginny… why didn't she want to come down to the beach with us? Did I do something to make her mad? She seemed to have fun once we got there."

Hermione sighed. She was happy enough to give advice and comfort to Ginny, but she had to think about what to say to Harry. She wasn't sure how much to tell him without giving away all of Ginny's secrets.

"Well, she's a little shy. You know she's always been the only girl in the house, besides her mum, and she just wasn't sure how she'd look in her new swimsuit."

She worried for a moment that she'd said too much, but Harry's face told her otherwise. Perhaps she'd been right about him after all.

"I thought she looked great," he said into his shirt, "but she always looks great. I kind of figured she knew that… She's so pretty… not that you're not, but…"

"It's okay, Harry," she laughed. "I'm not worried about what you think of me. How long have you felt like this?" It was a simple enough question, not asking directly if he liked her, but inferring it somewhat.

"Like what?" he asked, without really needing an answer. "I…" he rubbed his hands over his face. What was the harm in being honest?

"I've liked Ginny for a long time, I've just never let myself feel that way about her… until now."

Hermione tried to hide her glee, allowing only a wide smile to come across her face.

"How long has… I mean… does she feel… the same?" he asked.

"Harry, I can't tell you that. Only, think about what you feel when you're around her, and what her magic feels like in the air around you. Next time you work with her using memoria acies, talk to her. The more you know her, the better you'll know the answer to your question."

He sat deep in thought for a while, then stood up.

"Thanks," he said, "I'll do that, and if she needs more time, I'll wait, if she hasn't totally given up on me. She's worth the wait, no matter how long it takes." He sighed and then went inside, suddenly feeling the effects of spending a day in the hot sun followed by a long swim.

It was a little warm in the house and Harry had only enough energy to crank the windows half open before collapsing wearily on the sofa in the lounge. He grabbed a cherry crunch from the table and popped it in his mouth, letting the sweet flavor overcome his drowsy senses. It seemed he couldn't get enough of the little red candy that Hermione had introduced them to this summer. Now he understood why Dumbledore had liked lemon drops so much. There was something so simple about Muggle treats.

He lifted a hand slowly and sighed at the scars on it, trying to remember where they all came from. Try as he might, though, his mind was more tired than he could ever remember and he soon gave up. Soft music from the WWN radio in the corner played with his senses and he felt his eyes closing, taking him off to comfortable sleep. The cushions of the sofa were soft, and he propped his head up on the one remaining pillow within reach, thankful that they hadn't lost them all around the house yet. Throwing his feet up on the far arm rest and his laying his hands on his chest, he finally gave in to the darkness behind closed eyes, knowing even though he was tired, sleep would not come quickly.

****

A little while later, Ginny's small form slowly crossed the grass in the evening sunlight, still damp from her swim. Her eyes were bright and an easy smile played on her face from the warm water and the soft green grass. She tossed one sandy towel over the porch railing and opened the squeaky back door, pausing just long enough to glance out over the shimmering water and watch a flock of gulls making their way down the beach. Stepping inside, she let the door slam shut behind her.

Once inside, she threw her other wet towel with the rest of the dirty laundry. Seeing one of Harry's t-shirts folded up with a stack of clean laundry, she giggled silently to herself and snatched it from the pile, pulling it quickly over her wet hair and swimsuit. She lifted a corner of the sleeve to her face and sniffed deeply from the white cotton. It was clean, but smelled faintly of warm grass, and something else… something just… Harry. She knew it at once, but couldn't describe it in words. It was simply him, and she reveled in it. It seemed to summon up her best memories and diminish her worries. She felt more like herself than ever when she was around him. There was no pretending, no competing to impress. She could just be herself… and if only he would be himself, it would be a lot easier.

She was worried about him. Of course, she'd been worrying about Harry ever since she met him so many years ago, and she wasn't about to stop. She couldn't even put her finger on why. Of course she knew she loved him, that much was clear, but there was always a certain pain in her heart when she imagined what he must have gone through in his life, and what he must still go through. That was why she'd agreed to come here after all, but it didn't make it any easier. She thought that perhaps she could make a difference in some small way, being around to help. Just to see him smile, that was all she wanted. Even though it pierced her heart, she only wanted him to be happy, to have a life he enjoyed… even if it wasn't with her.

With a mix of emotions confusing even to her, she whipped her wet hair quickly up in a ponytail and started toward the stairs. Halfway through the archway into the lounge she stopped with a jerk, as she saw him asleep on the sofa. Something in her cried out to go to him, to watch over him until he woke up, to make sure no one bothered him. But then, as always, she turned away toward the stairs, realizing the best way to help him was to let him be. She was startled then when she heard her name.

"Ginny?" he asked quietly.

She turned back quickly. "Harry?" her voice quivered a little, wondering what might be wrong and what she could possibly do to help. "What do you need?"

He still didn't open his eyes, even when she crossed the room and knelt by his head, resting her hand on the arm of the sofa, even when it cried out to touch his.

"Nothing, I'm fine," he yawned. "I was just wondering if you wanted to join me lying about for a bit. I was trying to go to sleep, but nothing…" he waved his hands aimlessly.

"If you're going to sleep, I'll go upstairs. You need to rest."

He opened his eyes and touched her arm softly. "No, please stay. I'm so tired, I don't even know…" His eyes closed again, but his hand still rested on hers.

"What don't you know?"

"What?"

"You said 'I don't even know' and then just drifted off."

"Oh, I don't know. I'm just so tired, but please don't go." He managed to open his eyes a little and lifted his hand to touch her hair with his fingers. "It's brown when it's wet," he said dreamily. "I've always liked it red. It's so pretty."

Ginny blushed but reminded herself that he wasn't really himself right now, he was probably just speaking nonsense. Still, a small part of her soaked up his words and stored them away in her heart. She moved and sat down in the large, cushy armchair. It was situated at a right angle to the sofa, close to him. She reached out one slender hand and slowly ran it through his hair. After the work and water his hair was a little rough, but it was still more him than anything else. Somehow it was suddenly easy to forget herself. Her thoughts were focused only on him and she smiled as she felt him relax.

She continued to run her fingers slowly through his hair, finally settling down and laying her own head on the arm of the chair. It was softly stuffed and just the right fit for someone her size. She stretched out her legs against the other arm and sighed deeply. A warm, contented feeling began to build in her, filling her slowly from head to toe. She knew he was asleep, and somehow, she could also feel that his sleep was devoid of dreams. He seemed more relaxed than she had seen him, even in the last few weeks, and that thought carried her off to sleep.

When Hermione came down a little later, she quietly got some juice from the kitchen and made her way back upstairs, smiling happily to herself. Perhaps she was right after all.

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