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Author: Sovran Story: Meaning of One, Part Two: Chambers and Secrets Rating: Teens Setting: AU Status: Completed Reviews: 13 Words: 353,960
The morning after Ginny’s trip to The Burrow, Lavender and Parvati cornered Ginny and Hermione in their dormitory. “Ginny!” Lavender said. “Why didn’t you tell us?” Not entirely sure what they were referring to, Ginny said, “Tell you what?” “You know perfectly well what,” Parvati said, grinning. Ginny blushed. She had not planned on advertising that she was wearing a bra, and she had assumed that it would take a few days for anyone to notice. “Oh, that. It’s not a big deal,” she said, shrugging. Her smile broke through in spite of her intentions. I should have known they’d spot it instantly, even if I do get dressed in private. Lavender rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s a big deal! Perhaps not as big a deal as it is for Hermione…” she shot a wry look at the brunette, “… but still pretty big.” “Oh, stop it,” Hermione said, turning away and busying herself with her book bag. “Don’t worry, Lav,” Parvati said. “You’re not done yet, either. I’m sure of it.” “Anyway,” Lavender said, drawing the word out. Grinning, she stepped closer to Ginny and lowered her voice. “Do you think Harry’s noticed yet?” For once, Ginny found herself without a quick response. She picked up her brush and began running it through her hair to buy them a few moments to think. Err… would you have, do you suppose? Well… yeah, I would. But would you notice that I’d noticed? That’ll get us nowhere. “I think so,” Ginny said. “Hard to say, though, isn’t it?” Parvati nodded. “I bet he has, but he’s so polite you wouldn’t know it. Not like Seamus. Whenever I talk to him, he stares at my chest the whole time.” “You have no idea,” Hermione muttered. “Say, Ginny,” Parvati said, eyeing the brush in Ginny’s hand, “could I try something with your hair?” Ginny stopped and held her loose mane in one hand. “What kind of something?” “Oh, nothing serious. I found this charm, see…” She picked up an issue of Enchantment, a magazine which she and Lavender devoured each month, and opened it to a dog-eared page. “It’s a styling charm that’s supposed to make your hair curl and uncurl itself.” “How would that help?” Ginny asked. “If I curl it, I want it to stay that way.” “Not all of your hair at once. You cast it on a bit at a time, and then that bit curls and uncurls itself every few seconds. That way all of your hair is constantly curling and uncurling, so you get a really neat look. They call it the Mesmeriser.” She flipped the book around and showed Ginny the illustration. In the picture, individual locks of a witch’s hair were curling themselves loosely, holding for a few seconds, and then straightening again. Adjacent sections always moved at different times, creating a shimmering effect that reminded Ginny of the stream behind The Burrow. “It’s completely harmless,” Parvati said. “It only lasts for a few hours when professionals do it, so mine probably won’t work for even half that. But I can’t cast it on myself, of course, and Lavender’s hair isn’t long enough to get the full effect.” She turned to Hermione. “Sorry, Hermione, but yours is just too curly. I don’t think I could straighten it even with magic.” The brunette shrugged. Do you mind? Of course not. Harry busied himself in the common room with a stray issue of Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle. “All right,” Ginny said. Parvati clapped her hands once. “Great! Come here and sit.” She patted her bed, and Ginny sat down. Parvati took Ginny’s brush out of her hand and began pulling it through Ginny’s hair. “First, we do the Straightening Charm so we can apply the curling charms evenly.” Ginny sat still while Parvati worked. “I would kill for hair like this,” Parvati said, sighing. “You could have it,” Hermione said from her bed. “Colour-changing charms are easy, and with some Hair-Growth Tonic you could make yours as long as you wanted.” “Oh, I could get the length, and I could make it red, of course. But it’s not the same. It would all be one colour unless I did each hair individually. Mine would always look like I had charmed it that way, and this,” she tugged gently at Ginny’s hair, “would always look a million times better. I’ve never even heard of this colour.” “Err… sorry,” Ginny said. Lavender walked into Ginny’s line of vision, grinning. “At least you can get things off shelves without a stool, Parvati.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Ha ha. They just need lower shelves, that’s all.” “When was the last time you trimmed this, Ginny?” Parvati asked, disapproval in her voice. “Erm … a while before I started Hogwarts, I suppose.” “You need to have it cut, at least a little. Your split ends have split ends.” Parvati leaned over Ginny’s shoulder to see her. “I can do that, too, if you’d like.” “You can?” “Sure. Padma and I’ve been cutting each other’s hair for years. See?” She stepped off the bed and stood with her back to Ginny. Her ebony hair fell straight down her back and ended in a neat, curved line between her shoulder-blades. “Padma’s is just the same. We gave each other trims last month.” Parvati’s confidence reassured Ginny a bit, but she hesitated. No-one but her mother had ever cut her hair. “How much would you take off?” “Enough to get rid of the damage and even it out.” Parvati smiled. “Don’t worry, we all know how much you love your hair.” Grinning sheepishly, Ginny nodded. “Look,” Parvati continued. “Just this much.” She pulled Ginny’s hair over her shoulder and held her index finger across the end. “What’s that… four inches? Maybe five? That’s not much for you.” “Show me where it would stop,” Ginny said, straightening and tossing her hair behind her again. Parvati held the edge of her hand against Ginny’s spine a few inches above her waist. “Here, more or less.” “Well… okay,” Ginny said. “That should be fine.” “Great. It won’t take long, and then we can do the Mesmeriser.” Ginny felt her hair being tugged and rearranged again, and she carefully sat still. Catching Hermione’s eye, she raised her eyebrows, and Hermione smiled encouragingly. “So, has he kissed you yet?” Parvati asked. “What?” “You heard. Has he kissed you yet? On the lips, I mean.” Ginny’s cheeks pinkened. “Yes, actually.” The mattress heaved, and an excited Parvati appeared next to her. “Really?!” “Really.” Across the room, Hermione looked up, also. “Really?” Her voice was even warmer than Parvati’s, and she smiled widely. Ginny giggled. “Yes, really. On Valentine’s Day.” She could not think of any way to admit that she and Harry kissed every night before bed, but their first kiss seemed safe enough to mention. Did you have to tell them? Yes. Do you really mind? Well… it’s not my favourite thing to broadcast, but if you really want to talk about it, I suppose I won’t stop you. Sorry, Harry, Ginny said, giving him an internal smile. It’s what girls do. You’re not going to tell absolutely everyone, are you? Of course not. Just these three. And Luna. And maybe the other girls at the next Quidditch match. But no more than that, I think. “How many times do we have to say it, Ginny?” Lavender asked, drawing Ginny’s attention back to her room. “You have to tell us these things. Not wait a month for us to ask. Now dish the dirt.” “It was amazing,” Ginny said. “Beyond anything you can possibly imagine.” “Was he so sweet about it?” Parvati asked. “I bet he was.” Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. It’s wonderful, of course, but it’s just Harry.” “He may be ‘just Harry’ to you, Hermione, but we don’t spend all day, every day with him,” Lavender said. Parvati nodded. “To us, he’s… you know, Harry Potter.” Harry groaned, only barely managing to keep it inside their minds, and covered his ears with his hands. Hush. “I remember the first time I read The Bravest Boy,” Lavender said, staring at something none of the others could see. “We live in a Muggle neighbourhood, so my mum didn’t often bring home magical books and toys. That book was my very first one with moving pictures. I was five, and I hoped and hoped that one of the drawings of him would jump out of that book and talk to me.” “Me, too,” Parvati said. “Padma and I went through three copies. We tore the first one trying to turn the pages at different times, so our parents had to buy one for each of us after that.” Ginny smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I remember that one.” The Bravest Boy had started with Harry’s real story before delving into tales of his supposed adventures as a child, and she had loved those first few pages. “Really?” Parvati asked. “It’s so strange to think that you read that book and then actually became his girlfriend.” “It’s not that odd,” Hermione said. “It sounds like every witch our age read that book, so unless Harry went out with a Muggle-born, it’s entirely reasonable that his girlfriend would have read it.” Lavender turned to the brunette. “Jealous, are we, Hermione?” The question was pointed, but it did not hold any real malice. “No, of course not,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “It just makes sense.” Parvati moved back behind Ginny and resumed working on her hair. “Ginny…” she said before trailing off. “Yes?” “Do you know… do you know anything about what happened?” Parvati asked in a rush. “With his parents and You-Know-Who, I mean.” Ginny tensed. She was happy enough to discuss Harry as her boyfriend, but talking about his real past — their past — was another matter entirely. “Like what?” “You don’t have to tell me,” Parvati said. “We’ve just always wondered… How did he survive? How could anyone survive? It’s… it’s amazing.” They considered the question for a long moment, and in the end, they decided to give a partial answer. “No-one knows for sure,” Ginny said quietly. Her voice was the only sound in the room. “Dumbledore thinks that when Harry’s mum died to protect him, it created some sort of shield. Not like a Shield Charm or anything, but… something that made the Killing Curse bounce back. Dumbledore says it was her love that saved Harry.” Ginny turned to meet the eyes of each of her roommates. “You can’t go telling anyone that, though. Harry doesn’t like to talk about it, and I only told you because you’re all our friends. He’d hate it if you brought it up, okay?” “Of course, Ginny,” Hermione said, looking solemn. “We won’t say a word.” Parvati nodded, her eyes moist. “Yeah. That’s… that’s so sad. I couldn’t bear to talk about it, even if I wanted to. You can trust us.” “Good,” Ginny said, straightening. “Because if people start talking about that, I’ll know it was one of you, and I’ll set the twins on you.” “Easy now, Ginny,” Lavender said. “We won’t say anything. There’s no need for nasty threats like that.” Ginny sighed and relaxed her shoulders. “Sorry. It’s just… really personal.” “Tell us more about the kissing, then,” Parvati said, tugging at Ginny’s hair again. After twenty minutes and a lot of giggling, Ginny’s hair was done and the four girls were in high spirits once again. Examining herself in the mirror, Ginny was pleased with her hair. The bottom edge was in the right place and perfectly even, and Parvati’s charms made her hair look like a living, flowing thing without truly changing its shape or style. It was indeed mesmerising to watch. “This is beautiful, Parvati,” Ginny said. “I don’t think I’d do it often, but it’s really pretty.” “Thanks. I think it works really well for you because your hair is so long and it has so many shades of red in it.” Lavender sighed. “I might have to hate you for a while, though.” “Blondes don’t get to hate anyone,” Ginny said, pulling her hair over her shoulder and admiring the effect. “They’re blonde.” “You should go and show Harry,” Parvati said. She grinned and waggled her eyebrows. “I bet if he sees you like that, he’ll kiss you again.” Ginny giggled as she scrambled off the bed and towards the door. Think you’ll kiss me again because my hair’s charmed? Maybe. Maybe not. If you kiss me, I’ll kiss you back. It’s a deal. Ginny had always thought that starting to grow up would be a monumental event that no-one could possibly overlook. Part of her had felt that once she started wearing a bra, everyone around her would notice and somehow think differently of her. At the same time, she did not want anyone to think differently of her. Harry finally began to understand how truly awkward his encounter with Hermione had been on her birthday in their first year. He was very glad that he had never considered treating his friend differently after that. In reality, however, hardly anything went as Ginny or Harry had expected. She had one more garment to put on or take off, and that first day wearing it had led to a somewhat closer friendship with her dorm-mates. Other than that, the students treated her just as they always had. She was both disappointed and relieved, and she could not quite work out why. There were some new challenges, though. The bra fit snugly, which she knew was the point, and it was something that simply had not been there before. She found herself flexing her shoulders against the unfamiliar sensation, and sometimes she reached around to scratch at something her body was sure was an itch. During boring lessons, in particular, Harry and Ginny were easily distracted by the strange feeling of wearing a bra. They did not realise quite how distracted they were until the first History of Magic lesson after their weekend trip to The Burrow. “Harry!” Hermione whispered sharply, fighting to contain a grin. “Let it be.” He realised that he had one arm flung over his shoulder, and the other hand was pushing on his elbow to help him reach further down his back. His fingers quested desperately between his shoulder blades, trying to scratch at the spot where the clasp of the bra pressed slightly into his skin. Except, of course, that Ginny was wearing the bra. They both flushed, and Ginny slid further down in her seat so that the back of the chair pressed against the phantom itch on his spine. “Thanks,” Harry muttered to Hermione. Hermione’s shoulders shook in silent laughter, but she nodded before turning back towards Professor Binns. By the end of that week, they had finally grown accustomed to the feeling, and Ginny’s new clothing had become a normal and mostly unnoticed part of their existence. She still checked every day or two to see if perhaps it was getting a bit small, but her intellect knew that it was much too soon for that. The following Wednesday, after another spectacularly pointless Defence lesson, Harry and Ginny spent a few minutes wrapping the present they had found for the twins’ birthday. When they got back to the common room, they spotted the two boys with their fourth-year friends. They were all gathered around a table and whispering urgently. When the older students abandoned their huddle, Ginny and Harry wandered over to their table. “Hi, twins,” Ginny said. “Hello, little sister,” Fred said. “What can we do for you?” Harry glanced around to make sure that no-one was close enough to overhear. “Well,” he said in a low voice, “we were just wondering if there was anything we might be able to do for you.” Ginny nodded. “You know, a favour. Perhaps tomorrow.” “A favour you could do for us…” “… on our birthday?” “Ah, you’re right, it is our birthday.” “It just happens to be April Fools’ Day, too.” “So you’re offering to help us out on April Fools’ Day, then?” Rolling her eyes, Ginny said, “Yes, that.” “Well, we do appreciate the offer,” George said. “But I think we’ll be all right.” “You’ve been an inspiration to us, though,” Fred added. “Don’t feel like you haven’t contributed in your own way.” “Okay. We just thought we’d ask,” Harry said. “Very kind of you, Harry. Very kind, indeed.” Fred grinned and lowered his voice even further. “Just make sure you’re on time for dinner tomorrow.” Harry and Ginny coaxed Ron and Hermione into leaving a bit early the next evening. They all sat in their usual places in the Great Hall, but Harry and Ginny twisted in their seats to scan the large room. Nothing looked amiss. We’ll know where to look, right? Definitely. Knowing the twins, there’ll be a giant arrow or something. A few minutes later, most of the students had arrived and food had appeared along the tables. Just as Harry was filling Ginny’s goblet with pumpkin juice, the twins strode into the Hall on either side of Professor Lockhart. This will either be really bad… … or really, really good. The professor and two students strolled up the centre aisle, deep in conversation. As they neared the front of the room, George raised his voice enough that the surrounding students could hear him. “I must say, Professor, you’re looking especially dapper today. What’s your secret?” Lockhart beamed at him. “Nothing but natural gifts and a healthy lifestyle, boys. That’s all you really need.” “Obviously it’s working,” Fred said, nodding hugely. He turned to a knot of girls at the Hufflepuff table. “Isn’t he looking especially splendid today?” The girls nodded and giggled. Lockhart straightened a bit more, puffed out his chest, and gave an elegant nod. His gait acquired a certain strutting quality, and he smiled and even winked at a few of the students as he walked up to the high table. The twins kept talking to each other a bit more loudly than necessary, saying how meticulously groomed Lockhart was, what panache he possessed, and wondering if they could ever possibly look so good. By the time the professor reached his seat, his own behaviour and the twins’ voluminous praise had attracted the attention of most of the students in the Hall. Lockhart nodded again and, with a grandiose wave, lowered himself gracefully into his chair. His appearance changed in an instant. His hair, which had been blond and wavy, was suddenly thin and streaked with grey. His eyes darkened from cornflower blue to a muddy shade of blue-grey, and the skin around them sagged. The smoothness of his cheeks vanished and was replaced with wrinkles, faint scars, and a scattering of liver spots. Deep lines appeared around his mouth, and his lips lost their colour even as they, too, gained obvious wrinkles. For a moment, Lockhart continued to smile. His teeth were still whole and straight, but they were not nearly as bright as they had been a moment before. He reached out to lift his goblet, and Ginny saw that his hands were just as lined and spotted as his cheeks. She and dozens of other students recoiled at the same moment. Hermione’s face twisted as though she had just eaten a raw lemon, and one girl at the next table actually squealed amid the gasps and laughter coming from many of the male students. At the same time, Lockhart noticed his own hand. He gasped and leapt up from his chair, staring at his fingers. Then he raised his hands to his face, feeling his cheeks, forehead and ears. Lockhart shoved his hands into his pockets, and a bang drew Harry’s attention. He turned his head to find Fred lowering a camera amid a cloud of purple smoke. The red-haired boy quickly removed the film from the camera, replaced it with a fresh roll, and tucked the original roll into his robes. At the high table, Lockhart pulled out his wand and waved it sharply a few times. His sparkling eyes, flawless skin, and shining hair all reappeared, and he produced a small mirror from his pocket to examine the results. After a few moments, he lowered the mirror and found everyone watching him. Most of the students were either laughing or looking at him with revulsion, and the laughter was quickly getting louder. He raised his arms, smiled, and shouted over the noise. “Ah, well done, well done! April Fools’ Day, isn’t it? That was a nice bit of magic, setting all of those glamours on me at the same time!” “Bugger that!” Fred said loudly. “All we did was remove the glamours.” “Didn’t know there’d be that many, though,” George said. Lockhart’s reply was drowned out by the students talking even more loudly. At last, Professor McGonagall stood up and pointed her wand at her throat. “Be quiet!” Her voice boomed in the enclosed space. The students settled, but it took a few moments. When the Hall was reasonably calm, McGonagall lowered her wand and spoke in a loud but normal voice. “Messrs Fred and George Weasley, come with me. And bring that camera.” The twins bowed to the professor and then to the rest of the students. With their heads held high, they marched into an anteroom with the Deputy Headmistress. Voices rose again all around the Hall, and Harry looked towards the Headmaster to see what he might do. Dumbledore, however, was eating his dinner and apparently ignoring everything around him. Ginny turned back to Hermione. The older girl stared at Lockhart, who was grinning and still trying to pass the whole thing off as an illusion. She sighed and faced Ginny. “It fits, doesn’t it?” she asked in a sad voice. “Yeah.” Hermione shrugged. “Still, what sort of person would I be if I only admired someone for their appearance?” “I think you’d be him, Hermione,” Harry said in the gentlest voice he could manage. “You don’t know that,” she replied, her eyes showing her desperation. “It seems likely, but you don’t know. And that doesn’t change the amazing things he’s done.” She used to say that like she meant it, Harry said. I’m glad she’s coming around, but I hate to see her like this. The prank was still being rehashed and discussed among the other students as Harry and Ginny climbed back to Gryffindor tower. There, they found Fred and George lounging in front of the fire. After a few minutes of confusion whilst everyone bombarded the twins with questions, the second-years managed to claim seats nearby along with Lee, Alicia, and Angelina. “What’s the damage, Fred?” Lee asked. “McGonagall hit us where it hurts, but it’s nothing too awful,” Fred said. “We’re to spend four hours in detention every day of the Easter hols.” George nodded casually. “She says that since we went to so much trouble to make a professor look his worst, we could spend that time making the castle look its best. Starting with the Defence room, I think.” “Nobody’s said anything to us,” Alicia said. “Told you we’d keep you out of it.” Lee shuddered. “Glad you did. Who wants to spend the hols cleaning the castle?” “Did Professor McGonagall get the film?” Ginny asked. All five of the conspirators grinned. “Nah,” Angelina said. She reached into her robes and pulled out a small canister. “Angie summoned it out of my pocket during all the commotion,” Fred said, smiling at his friend. “Nicely done, by the way.” “It was nothing.” “How did you do it?” Hermione asked. “I didn’t see a spell or anything.” George glanced at his twin, and they both shrugged. “I suppose it can’t hurt to tell you. Nobody’s going to be able to repeat that trick for a long while.” He leaned back on the sofa. “We were at Zonko’s last Hogsmeade weekend, and we got a few minutes to talk to Zonko himself. He’s an old codger, but he’s sharp as a tack.” “We told him about a few things we’ve tried to make that didn’t work, and that got him talking about some of his experiments,” Fred said. “He says that he has a lot of good ideas that he can’t really use. The time and effort required to make the item is worth a lot more than he can possibly sell it for.” “What does that have to do with anything?” Ron asked. “Everything, brother mine. Absolutely everything.” George turned back to Hermione. “So sometimes he makes a prototype, and then he realises it’s not something he’ll be able to sell. The jokes that people could do wouldn’t be worth the Galleons they’d have to pay, see?” “I suppose that makes sense,” Hermione said. “So he showed us a little disc he’d made. Did you manage to get it back, Ali?” Alicia dug into her pocket and pulled out something that Harry and Ginny could not quite see. She placed her hand in Fred’s, and then Fred was holding whatever it was. “See?” he said. “It’s not actually invisible. Just clear.” He turned his fingers, and Harry and Ginny saw that he was holding a very thin, perfectly clear disc of what looked like plastic. The wafer was perhaps three inches in diameter. “That little beauty,” George said, waving at the disc, “is just big enough to hold a moderate Dispelling Charm. Zonko said it was a real stretch to fit the charm on something this small, but he knew that if he made it much bigger it would be completely useless. Anyone would spot something the size of a dinner plate, even if it was transparent.” “We saw the potential immediately,” Fred said. “For a one-time thing, we were willing to pay close to what it cost him to make, and he was happy to sell it to us.” “Alicia smuggled it onto Lockhart’s chair…” “… and the rest is history.” “Seriously ancient history, no less.” Ginny grinned. “So what you’re telling me is that Alicia planted the disc, Angelina hid the film, and Lee supplied the camera. What exactly did you two do?” “You wound me,” George said dryly. “The idea was at least partially ours, and we procured the disc.” “And, of course, we took the credit.” “And the detention.” “So, really, we did almost everything important.” “Well,” Angelina said, “since it actually did work out the way you said it would, I suppose you can have your birthday present after all. Hang on.” From there, the evening turned into a drawn-out celebration of both the twins’ birthdays and Lockhart’s misfortune. Just before Harry and Ginny went to bed, Lee Jordan appeared with a copy of the photograph Fred had taken. He propped the picture up on a table, and the aged Lockhart could be heard muttering darkly from where he cowered behind his chair in the Great Hall. The following day, the whole castle buzzed with talk of the celebrated professor’s appearance. Some students debated whether the twins were telling the truth about the effect of their prank. Others seemed confident that the twins were telling the truth, and they spent their time speculating about just how ancient Lockhart might actually be. Hermione was among the first to find the answer to that question. “He’s sixty-eight,” she said morosely as she joined the others halfway through lunch. “He’s said he was a prefect, so I went to the school records. I can’t believe I never thought to do that before.” Harry shrugged. “Everything there is to know about him was right there in his books. Why bother?” “I checked those books,” Hermione said, scowling. “He talks about being a prefect, and he mentions some of his classmates, but he says he’s changed their names out of respect for their privacy. Nowhere does he actually say what years he attended Hogwarts.” “What house was he in?” Ron asked. Hermione looked down at her plate and said, “Slytherin.” Her head snapped up. “And before you say anything, yes, that fits, too.” “Sorry, Hermione,” Ginny said. By the end of lessons that day, the rest of the students had discovered Lockhart’s true age. The man himself, however, acted as if nothing had changed. He spent his entire lesson on Friday reaffirming that the twins had simply charmed him to look horrible rather than removing his own cosmetic charms. Saturday was relatively warm but rainy, so the students spent the day in the castle avoiding their homework as much as possible. Ginny wore the “My Brother Did It” t-shirt that Hermione had given her for her last birthday, and within an hour she got used to students guffawing as they passed in front of her. It was a welcome change from watching her housemates try to avoid Harry at all times. Harry and Ginny spent the afternoon with Luna riding the moving staircases to see some of the more distant paintings in the main stairwell. They talked about many inconsequential things, but as they started back up towards their towers, Ginny could not resist asking Luna about the twins’ antics. “Well, I’m not sure it was very polite,” Luna said, “but I have to admit that it was most informative.” “Err… how?” Harry asked. “If he’s that old, it explains how he’s had time to do all of the things in his books. It would be a very busy schedule for a younger man.” Ginny nodded, somewhat surprised. “I hadn’t thought of that. Don’t you think he’s horribly vain, though?” “Lots of people care about their appearances,” Luna said, shaking her unkempt blonde head. “You spend a lot of time on your hair, but I don’t think any less of you for that.” She has an uncanny knack for making us feel like we’re five, Harry said. “Well, I see your point, but I still think it was funny,” Ginny said. And it’s not the same to use charms like that to hide your age. Luna nodded. “Oh, yes. It was quite funny, also.” Ginny and Harry bade Luna farewell and went back up to the common room, where most of the Gryffindors were perfectly happy to laugh about Lockhart’s deception. Professor McGonagall ended the last Transfiguration lesson of the term a few minutes early, instructing the students to put away their books, wands, and the spoons they had been attempting to transfigure into door handles. “After the holiday,” she said, “we will begin a long-term project. You will be attempting to transform small vertebrates into water goblets. We will work on this project each week, and by the end of the year I expect you all to be able to perform the complete Transfiguration. “You will work in groups, and each group will share a small animal. If you have a pet toad or rat, please bring it to lessons with you. I assure you that no harm will come to the creatures. However, please do not bring your cat or owl, as those animals do not respond well to Transfiguration. I will have a limited number of creatures available for groups who do not have a rat or toad. Are there any questions?” Hermione’s hand shot into the air. “Yes, Miss Granger?” “Professor, what do you mean about cats and owls not responding well to Transfiguration? What does that mean?” McGonagall nodded. “A good question. Certain types of animals, including cats and magical owls, exhibit behaviour changes after being transfigured into objects. Before you ask, we do not know precisely why this phenomenon occurs in some animals and not others. It is nonetheless well-documented.” “But Professor,” Hermione said as she raised her hand again, “at the N.E.W.T. level, don’t we practice human transfiguration on ourselves? Even complete Transfiguration? Would that have the same result?” “It would if you were incautious in your spell-work, yes. One of the keys to human transfiguration is learning to modify your shape and appearance without truly and completely changing yourself into an object. If you wish to look like a stone, then you must ensure that your stone still retains some humanity, even if it is not visible from the outside. But, as you say, that is N.E.W.T-level material, and we need not discuss it now. Are there other questions?” No one spoke, and Harry and Ginny shuddered as they recalled the more detailed lessons that Bill and Professor McGonagall had given them on living Transfiguration the previous year. “Moving on, then,” the professor said. “As you may know, you must soon select the subjects that you will study in your third year and beyond.” She waved her wand, and a stack of papers began distributing themselves to the students. “You will select your subjects using these forms. On the back of each is a collection of information which you may find helpful as you consider your choices. You will return the completed forms to me at the beginning of the first Transfiguration lesson of the summer term. If you have any questions, feel free to approach any of your teachers or your Head of House. Older students may also be a valuable source of information.” Harry and Ginny skimmed over the sheets of parchment that landed in front of each of them. The form provided a brief description of all of the third-year courses they could choose from and listed which ones could be taken at the same time. At the very bottom were a few lines where each student was to enter their name and their chosen subjects. On the opposite side of the parchment, the magical world’s major career paths were listed along with which electives were mandatory or suggested for each. “I ask you to think carefully about your choices, as they are not readily changed after your third year begins. Class is now dismissed. Enjoy your holiday.” Most of the second-year Gryffindors spent Saturday in conversation with any older students they could find. Percy had been rather subdued since Penelope’s Petrification, but when he was in the common room he added his opinion to any discussion taking place in his vicinity. Lavender and Parvati sought counsel from a handful of third-years, while Seamus and Dean tried to get advice from a pair of pretty but indifferent fifth-year girls. Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron gravitated to the twins and their friends, who were among the few Gryffindors who still tolerated Harry’s presence. Between the five fourth-years, they were taking all of the subjects except Ancient Runes. Harry and Ginny had already decided against taking Runes because Percy constantly lauded it as his favourite subject. “Muggle Studies isn’t bad,” George said, shrugging. “Burbage is a softie, and most of the lessons are pretty interesting. Might not be worth it for you two, though.” He nodded at Hermione and Harry. Alicia shook her head. “I’ve seen what you two have to do sometimes for Muggle Studies, and I still say that Divination’s easier. Trelawney’s barmy, but she’s dead entertaining. You do most of the real work outside of class, where it’s easy to look things up if you have to.” “What about Arithmancy?” Hermione asked. “Total nightmare,” Lee said. “Some of it’s fascinating, really, but it’s hard as anything.” “Not too many essays, though, it seems like,” Fred said. “True,” Lee said, shrugging. “Most of the actual coursework is done in class. You have to spend time outside of class working out what Vector’s talking about so that you can keep up next lesson, though.” “The one you’ve simply got to take is Care of Magical Creatures,” George said. The other fourth-years nodded. “You’re all in it?” Harry asked. George nodded. “Yep. It’s one of the largest subjects. Think about it… you’re studying animals, right, so there can’t possibly be as much book work as in Arithmancy.” “There is some, though,” Angelina said. “And it gets you out of the castle,” Fred continued. “That’s priceless, if you ask me.” “There are plenty of boring creatures, of course, but I’d say there are at least as many cool ones,” Lee said. Alicia leaned forward and smiled as she looked back and forth between Hermione and Ginny. “Unicorns,” she said in a soft voice. “You’ll love the unicorns.” “She hasn’t shut up about them for months,” George muttered. “Don’t blame me because they don’t like boys, Georgie,” Alicia said. “Let me get this straight,” Ron said, scowling intently at the floor. “It’d be stupid not to take Care of Magical Creatures, right? And aside from that, the easiest ones are Divination and Muggle Studies?” “That’s about it, little brother, if you’re looking for the soft option,” Fred said. “Since we don’t get to drop any of the subjects we already have, I don’t think any of it’s very soft,” Ron said. “But don’t you want to be a nurse, Ron?” George asked, blinking hugely. “You’ll need an O.W.L. in Arithmancy for that.” “Bugger off,” Ron said. Fred waved a hand airily. “Don’t worry, George. He can always read up and sit for the test without the class.” “Follow in Percy’s footsteps, eh, Ron? Mum’ll be so proud.” “Stop talking rubbish! I’m not doing any Arithmancy, and I’m not going to be a nurse,” Ron said. He got up and stomped away towards the dormitories. George looked around the table. “Is it my fault he wants to be a nurse?” After dinner that evening, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry broke away from the other students to discuss their options. “For starters, Harry and I aren’t taking Runes or Muggle Studies,” Ginny said. “Runes sounds dead boring, and Muggle Studies seems a little pointless.” “I’m not taking it either, then,” Ron said. “I don’t want to be the only one in there.” He consulted a scrap of paper he had been carrying around. “Looks like Creatures and Divination are my picks. I’m not touching Arithmancy.” Harry nodded. “Yeah, it sounds rough. What about you, Hermione?” “I’m not sure. I think I might like Arithmancy.” She shrugged. “I’m glad we’ve got started thinking about our subjects, but we have plenty of time to decide. I’m going to sleep on it for now.” By the following afternoon, Harry and Ginny had more-or-less decided to follow Ron’s lead in taking Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. They were not quite sure about Divination, but they liked the idea of having a relatively easy subject. It felt like a balance for the fact that Potions could never, under any circumstances, be easy for them. In the first few minutes of their weekly meeting with Professor McGonagall, they worked on the duration of their throw-dough conjurations. When that was done, the professor sat them down with tea and biscuits. “Have you given any thought to your courses for next year?” she asked without preamble. “A bit. We’re sort of leaning towards Care of Magical Creatures and Divination,” Ginny said. “What do you think?” The tall woman was quiet for a few moments as she toyed with a biscuit. “I am of two minds. Normally, I advise students to take whatever interests them, because they are much more likely to do well in something they enjoy.” I don’t like the sound of that. “In your case, however, I can see certain practical advantages in your choices.” She paused and sipped her tea. “What do you know about Arithmancy, I wonder?” Harry and Ginny stifled a groan. “Err… it’s maths for magic,” he said. “Yes, it is,” McGonagall agreed. “But that is only part of it. At its core, Arithmancy is the study of how magic works. Arithmancers study different categories of magic, how to measure magic, and the structure of spells. Maths is simply a tool which they use in that endeavour.” That doesn’t make it any easier, Ginny said. “So, ahh… you think we should take Arithmancy, then?” Harry asked. McGonagall nodded and put down her teacup. “I think you should at least consider it. Studying Arithmancy might well help you to understand the basis of your problems with magic. For instance, beginning Arithmancy defines the different types of what we call ‘accidental magic’ and how they work. Arithmancy also teaches students about the three types of spells I have already explained to you. I’m sure you can see how those topics are particularly relevant in your case.” Ginny nodded. “So if we took Arithmancy, we’d be able to control magic more easily?” “Not necessarily. You’ve shown that you can learn control without understanding the underlying principles of the magic you are using. However, I believe that having such an understanding might help you to hone that control.” She looked at them for a few moments. “You are concerned about the maths?” “Well… yes, Professor,” Harry said. “Have you had trouble with maths in the past?” “Yes, but…” Harry and Ginny rarely spoke about the fundamental changes they had experienced, and they hesitated to explain their thoughts. Still, they once again decided that McGonagall would try to understand. “Things were… different before we met.” “How so?” “Mum taught me enough to get along in the world,” Ginny said. “I can do that just fine, but I’ve never needed to know anything more. Harry took maths at his primary school, but…” “I wasn’t very good at it,” he finished. “I could just about do the basics, too, but I couldn’t get past that without a lot of help.” The professor nodded encouragingly. “And now?” “That’s the problem, Professor,” Harry said. “We don’t know. Loads of things have changed… almost everything, really. We have no idea if we can do maths now or not.” Ginny frowned at the floor. “It’s a really strange feeling. How can we not know if we can do something that we’ve both done before?” “I don’t think I can begin to understand that feeling,” McGonagall said softly. She stared at the wall above them for a few moments and then shook her head. “It is beyond me. But I can accept that it must be troubling for you.” “So we just don’t know,” Harry said. McGonagall’s gaze sharpened into a more typical focus. “Well, so be it. Will you allow me to offer my thoughts?” Ginny blinked, startled by the older witch’s request. “Of course.” The professor stood and began walking back and forth in front of her chair. “I am a teacher, Harry and Ginny. I have spent my life trying to enable young people to do things that they could not do before they entered my classroom. In that time, I have learned one incredibly valuable lesson for myself. It is not what a student already knows that determines her ability. It is how well she can learn. “Someone who is a good learner can achieve almost anything with sufficient time and instruction, even if she has no particular knowledge or skill to start with. Learning is the skill. Everything else is just an application thereof.” McGonagall stopped and faced them. “I have often wished that I could have known you before you met each other. Not simply to have helped you, Harry, but also to satisfy my own curiosity about who you were. Yet I did not know those two children, and I believe that they no longer exist. You are who you have become since then, and I think I have come to know you quite well.” Harry and Ginny had not entirely followed McGonagall’s logic, but they decided that she was speaking as much to herself as to them. It was strange, in a way, to see their favourite professor so clearly enraptured by a topic. They nodded at her expectant look. “I feel quite certain that now, being as you are, you have a delightful capacity to learn. I have presented you with concepts and skills that older students never master simply because they do not try. Yet you have mastered them, whether it took you five minutes or five months. That is what I see in you.” Her eyes shining with intensity, McGonagall sat back down on her chair. “If you take Arithmancy, Professor Vector can teach you the maths required. I am quite confident that you are capable of learning anything she presents to you.” The young pair felt a surge of pleasure. Professor McGonagall had praised them often enough, but she had never been so openly approving of them as she was in that moment. Ginny and Harry suddenly felt, for the first time, that someone was truly proud of them for being what and who they were. “Okay, Professor,” Harry said. “We’ll think about taking Arithmancy rather than Divination.” They could not find any better words to express their feelings. McGonagall’s posture relaxed slightly, and she smiled. “I’m sorry, Harry. I am not pressuring you to take Arithmancy, though I do think it might be beneficial to you. You are welcome to choose any subjects you like, and I will support you in that decision.” The professor’s advice and confidence affected Harry and Ginny deeply, and their thinking changed in an instant. “Do you… err… do have any thoughts about Care of Magical Creatures?” Ginny asked. “Nothing so profound,” McGonagall said, her lips twitching. “It is an excellent subject for anyone who finds it interesting. Hogwarts is very likely the best place in Europe to study it.” “Thanks, Professor,” Harry said. “We’ll think about everything.” McGonagall smiled again. “That is all I will ever ask of you. Remember, by the way, that you can still pursue a particular career without taking one of the prerequisite subjects. It is not at all unusual for students to study independently for extra O.W.L.s, and a few have also done so for N.E.W.T.s. The subjects you choose for your third year do not necessarily restrict your choices in the long term.” “We’ll remember,” Ginny said, nodding. “Bill and Percy got all twelve O.W.L.s, but they didn’t take all of the subjects.” “Ah, of course you’re familiar with the practice.” McGonagall stood and nodded towards the far end of the room. “Your conjuration has not yet faded, so I will be sure to note when it does. Enjoy the rest of the day, and by all means enjoy your holidays. Do not spend too much time fretting about your subjects.” April in Scotland was never an idyllic time to be outdoors. After the long winter, however, Harry and Ginny were happy to be outside in jumpers and jackets rather than their winter cloaks. The sun usually came out for an hour or so each day, and during that time they and the other students lounged on the brittle grass or cast Warming Charms on large stones by the lake. Most of the second-years talked incessantly about what subjects they might take the following year. Ron, however, had made his decision, and Hermione was strangely quiet on the matter. She chose to spend her time revising for the end-of-year exams and disregarding the others’ protests that it was much too early for such things. Ginny and Harry felt comfortable with taking Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy, and they followed Professor McGonagall’s advice not to dwell on alternatives. Instead, the four of them — and Hermione’s textbooks — passed the time with the twins and their friends. Fred and George spent the bulk of each afternoon cleaning the castle, starting with a thorough hand-scrubbing of the Defence classroom and all of the portraits inside. Angelina, Alicia, and Lee did not interact with the younger students as much when the twins were busy, but they were pleasant enough company regardless. A few times, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry drifted away from the fourth-years to spend time with Parvati and Lavender, but they could only really do that when none of Parvati’s other friends were nearby. Most of the girls still were not comfortable in Harry’s presence. Thursday afternoon was relatively warm and surprisingly sunny, so dozens of students were still outside when the twins finished their daily detention. Grinning merrily, the two boys strolled across the grounds and settled in the shade of a beech tree, which many of the second- and fourth-years had claimed for the day. Harry and Ginny ignored the fact that most of their fellow students were clustered on the opposite side of the tree from him. “Finished polishing the armour?” Lee asked. “Oh, yeah,” Fred said. “That didn’t take too long. We’ve moved on to scrubbing the mortar between the flagstones in the Great Hall.” “Thrill a minute, that,” George said. “You meet interesting people, though.” Fred pulled a small scroll out of his pocket and leaned over to hand it to Harry. “Dumbledore asked me to give this to you, Harry.” “Dumbledore?” Harry said. “Yes. You know… old, tall, quite barmy? Dumbledore.” Lee’s eyes widened. “Blimey, Harry. What’d you do?” “Err… nothing.” Nothing recent, anyway. Harry unrolled the parchment and found a brief note inviting them to visit the Headmaster in his office after dinner. What does he want? Maybe he finally caught Dobby. That’d be a relief. It’s been quiet for a while, hasn’t it? “Well, what’s it say?” Angelina asked, eyeing the parchment with a respectful expression. “Oh…” Harry and Ginny debated making something up, but they could not think of anything more innocent than the basic truth. There was, however, no need to make the request sound more unusual than it already was. “He wants me to go up to his office after dinner. He doesn’t say why.” He turned to Ginny. “Would you come along, Gin? I don’t want to lose any points.” “Sure,” she said. “I can wait on the steps if he wants me to.” When they finished eating that evening, they waited until Dumbledore left the Great Hall. Then, after giving him a few minutes out of courtesy, they climbed up to the seventh floor and made their way to the Headmaster’s office. “Sherbet lemon,” Harry said. The gargoyle leapt aside, and Ginny and Harry rode the moving staircase up to the office. Inside, they found Dumbledore sitting behind his desk sipping from a bottle of Butterbeer. “Ah, hello, Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley. Thank you very much for accepting my invitation.” As though we really had an option. “Err… what would you have done if we’d said no?” Harry asked. The old man smiled. “Invited you again, of course. Repeatedly, and with what I’m sure would have been vast creativity.” He waved them into two chairs. “May I offer you a Butterbeer? I acquired a taste for it decades ago, and I haven’t been able to completely give it up since.” Harry and Ginny nodded. They could not imagine turning down Butterbeer when it was offered. Dumbledore pulled two more bottles out of a drawer in his desk and tapped each one with his wand. The bottles were pleasantly warm when he handed them to Harry and Ginny, and the liquid inside was every bit as good as they remembered from the few times Ginny had tasted it. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you here this evening,” Dumbledore said. They nodded. “I wonder if you’ve given any thought to the future.” Harry and Ginny blinked. “Which bit?” he asked. The Headmaster smiled again. “Oh, nothing much past next year. Have you thought about which subjects you will add for your third year?” Well, that’s refreshingly direct. Harry nodded. “Oh. Yes, a bit.” “And, if I may be so bold, have you considered Divination?” “What?” Ginny asked, nonplussed. “Divination?” “Yes, Miss Weasley. Have you considered it?” Why on earth would he want us to take Divination? “We thought about it,” Harry said. “But…” “Go on, Mr. Potter. I’m happy to hear any thoughts you may have on the matter.” “Well, everyone says it’s not entirely… ahh… practical.” Dumbledore’s beard shook as he chuckled. “By which you mean to say that it is known to be a relatively easy subject which can be quite entertaining, even if it is not intended to be.” “You said that, not us,” Ginny said, shrugging. “So I did.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the desk between them. “It may surprise you to learn that I agree with that basic assessment. Divination is often less demanding than the other options, and it can indeed be quite entertaining for a variety of reasons. However, that does not mean that it is without merit of its own. “Divination is, by nature, a very imprecise and subjective craft. But it is a craft, with an ancient body of knowledge and a history of significant influences on wizarding society. Divination has quite literally guided the progress of our world.” “So you want us to take it?” Harry asked. Dumbledore shrugged. “I am far past the age when I expected anyone to do what I wanted them to do. The choice is yours. However, I do believe that given your unique existence, it is possible that you might find answers or guidance through Divination. You might not, of course, but the potential is there.” “Answers? You mean… how we got this way?” “How. Or, more importantly, why.” They thought for a moment and then shook their heads. “I don’t understand,” Harry said. “Nor do I, Mr. Potter. But Divination might be a path towards that understanding.” The Headmaster stood up, and they rose as he rounded the desk. “And now, I think it is time for you to return to your dormitories. I am certain you have more interesting things to do than to listen to an old man’s ramblings.” As Harry and Ginny turned back towards the door, they belatedly noticed Fawkes on his perch. Unlike the last time they had seen him, the phoenix was in his full glory. His feathers were shiny and smooth, and he looked much stronger than the feeble bird which had burst into flames a few months earlier. “Hi, Fawkes,” Ginny said. “Feeling better?” Fawkes trilled briefly, and Harry and Ginny felt their spirits lift. Moments before, they had felt burdened by the information Dumbledore had given them and the choices they had to make. Suddenly, however, they felt joyful and optimistic. They would find an answer to the puzzle of their subjects in due time, and it would be a good answer. Even the familiar ache of their months-long ostracism faded away, leaving only happiness in its wake. “Ahh,” Dumbledore breathed. “Fawkes’ gift is an incredible feeling, is it not? I think perhaps he is grateful for your company on his Burning Day.” “It’s wonderful,” Harry said, nodding. “Thank you, Fawkes.” “Hurry back to your dormitories,” the Headmaster said. “Curfew is very soon, and I should not like to be blamed for any rule-breaking.” Harry and Ginny nodded. “Goodnight, Headmaster,” he said. “Goodnight.” They descended the stairs with Fawkes’ song still echoing in their minds. Just as they stepped out from behind the gargoyle and into the corridor, they heard a distant clock chime the hour. Curfew, Ginny said. Harry eyed the long corridor. He did say to hurry, and there’s nobody around. Grinning, Ginny Shifted several yards down the corridor, arriving so that she faced Harry. C’mon, slowcoach. Hey! Harry shifted beyond her, and they began leapfrogging their way towards the Fat Lady’s portrait. When they reached the first turn in the corridor, Harry Shifted as close as he could to the corner and then darted around it to see if anyone was in the next section. A flash of yellow caught his eye, and Ginny was alone.
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