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Author: Felix Felicis Story: Unbreakable Bonds Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 10 Words: 139,082
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stood in the afternoon sunlight, near the end of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. They watched expectantly as the Hogwarts Express squealed loudly to a stop, bringing their children home again. Mrs. Weasley smiled nervously at her husband, who gave her an encouraging nod and they began to walk briskly alongside the train. As they passed car after car, she became more and more nervous until her husband finally paused and touched her arm. “Molly, dear,” he said calmly, “do you recall where we sat on our last trip home from Hogwarts?” She smiled and blushed a little. “Yes, we had a compartment with the others in the very last – “ She squeezed his hand. “Do you really think so? The last car?” He nodded toward the last car and raised his hand in greeting to their youngest son, who had just stepped down onto the platform. Mrs. Weasley practically ran to him, gathering him up into a true Weasley hug. After putting her hands on his cheeks to see that it was really him, she immediately turned to Ginny, who groaned loudly. In the midst of the disembarking chaos, Harry could clearly hear her say, “Mum! I’m okay, really, I’m fine.” Her mother only squeezed her tighter and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Harry was suddenly reminded of the twins’ behavior when their mother tried to hug and kiss them, and he laughed a little. After saying hello to Hermione, Mrs. Weasley came to Harry, who had gone around to talk to Mr. Weasley. She pulled him into a loving hug and Harry couldn’t help but enjoy it. He was finally back with his family and there was nowhere he’d rather be. Glancing over Mrs. Weasley’s shoulder, he thought he saw a grin of approval from Ginny but the next second it was gone. She was just chatting away with her father and he thought perhaps he’d just imagined it. Finally, in one large group they made their way out of the station. With the Ministry now fully engaged in the war against Voldemort, it was in their best interest to provide protection for Harry in all respects. As the group stepped out of King’s Cross, two large black cars pulled up, seemingly out of nowhere. The Ministry drivers quickly took their belongings and in no time they were rolling down the road toward the Burrow. Against Mrs. Weasley’s pleas, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had all clambered into one car, while the others, including Order members Mad-Eye Moody, and a tired-looking Remus Lupin, whom Harry had greeted excitedly, rode in the other. The drive was long enough that they had some time to talk, and Harry knew something that needed to be talked about. “I think,” he said, sighing a bit, “we need to talk about last night.” Ron gave him a rude look and turned back to the window, while Ginny smiled a little, nodding encouragingly to him. Hermione, on the other hand, looked completely bewildered. “What happened last night?” she asked curiously. Ron’s head snapped back so fast, Harry swore he got whiplash just watching. “What happened last night!” he barked. “You mean you don’t remember?” Her expression instantly went from curious to fearful. “No, I… I don’t remember. Did someone get hurt?” Defying his normal lack of emotional depth, Ron replied coolly. “That depends on how you define hurt.” He crossed his arms and turned back to brood at the window. “Why don’t you ask Harry? I’m sure he remembers.” She looked back and forth between the two. “Okay, someone please tell me what happened. The last thing I remember was Harry telling a joke about Dudley and the Ton-Tongue Toffees. I had a bit more to drink last night than usual, but… oh no! Did I do something stupid?” She looked around fretfully. “Hermione,” Harry offered slowly, “do you remember anything about the walk back to the castle?” She put her hands over her face, massaging her forehead. “I don’t… not really… it seems like I had some help…” She growled in disgust. “I can’t remember anything!” “No?” Ron questioned from the window, “You don’t remember hanging yourself all over Harry, talking about how he said you were pretty, and then… and then… Argh!” Ron punched the door with his fist. “Hermione! You kissed him! You kissed Harry!” She paled instantly, “I didn’t… I don’t remember that –” “Well, you did.” He turned back to her, looking stricken. “And I suppose you don’t remember saying you heard him think you were pretty?” She raised her hands back to her face, muttering, “Oh no… oh no! I was never supposed to say that out loud!” “Ha!” he yelled. “So you admit it!” “I don’t remember anything!” she said, tears building in her eyes. “Ron!” Harry interjected. “That’s not her fault. I… I did think that, only I didn’t know she had heard me until last night.” “Humph,” he grunted at Harry, then muttered. “I don’t see how it’s any of your business anyway.” Harry laughed in spite of himself. “None of my business! I happen to think Hermione’s a pretty girl. I don’t see how you couldn’t!” She blushed and smiled. “But,” he continued, poking Ron in the chest and winking sideways at Ginny, “it doesn’t mean that I like her, or that she should be my girlfriend!” “You’re right!” Ron yelled. “She should be mine!” There was a collective intake of breath and Harry tried not to let his grin show. Ron froze, his eyes looking back and forth as if searching for an escape. “I… er… I…” “Ron,” Hermione said quickly, “whatever you say next, make it be right, or I’ll never forgive you.” Harry saw a very uncharacteristic softness in her eyes that made him want to look away, but he found he couldn’t. Ron closed his eyes, seemingly gathering his thoughts. “Hermione,” he said in a husky voice, “I… “ He reached out and took her hand, taking in another breath. “What I said just now, it was the truth. I’ve fancied you for a long time, and if you want to, I’d like to try making us into… well, us.” He looked hopefully into her eyes. There was a long pause while they simply looked into each other’s eyes. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Hermione jumped out of her seat and flung her arms around him “Oh, Ron! I’ve been waiting for so long…” She said, choked up with emotion. While Hermione held fast to Ron, Ginny moved quietly to the now-open seat by Harry. “It’s about time, isn’t it?” she whispered in his ear. Her breath sent shivers up his spine and he tried not to think about how close she was. “Yeah,” he said, “it’s about time.” Hermione turned and smiled at them, “Very subtle, Harry.” “Well,” he said, “you’re the one who kissed me!” Ron turned to Hermione, who was now sitting next to him with her hand in his. “Hermione, why did you kiss him?” For a moment Harry feared his friend was getting upset again, but his worry faded quickly when he saw the look on Ron’s face. He was still smiling as if nothing could stop him and he appeared genuinely curious. Hermione bit her lip, looking at Harry. “Well, I guess it was because of the letter… and maybe partly because of the wings.” Harry frowned. He wasn’t sure he wanted them all to know about what he had said to Hermione in that letter, but he realized that of the four of them, probably only Ron had not read it. He sighed and nodded for her to continue. There would be time to worry about Ginny’s reaction to it later. “He wrote me a letter,” she turned to Ron, “while you were gone, and gave it to me when we got to the Burrow. He said he loved me like a sister, but before I read the ‘sister’ part, I thought it was something else…” She blushed again but still looked at Ron, who appeared a bit shocked. “Well, I knew I fancied you,” she continued to look at Ron’s face, “but when I was done, I thought it would be funny to kiss him just once before I was, erm, taken off the market, as it were.” “Yeah, well, you did that,” Ron said. “Unfortunately, you were too drunk to remember, and now we get to tease you about it the rest of your life.” “I’d like that,” she said, and he immediately turned red, catching her meaning rather more quickly than usual. “I don’t know, I think it might be better just to forget it ever happened,” Harry muttered, seriously. Hermione turned to him with a look of genuine concern. “I’m sorry, Harry. I shouldn’t have done it and I’m sure I hurt everyone last night. I really didn’t mean to. Oh, please don’t be mad at me.” Harry knew he wasn’t mad at her but couldn’t keep himself from saying, “Yeah, well, I do think you may have hurt some of us.” He looked at Ginny. She was smiling a little but he was close enough to see that it didn’t reach her eyes. She was probably remembering their talk last night, he thought, noting that her eyes were still just a little red. Of course, he, too was still thinking about it, and remembering the feelings she had admitted to him. He thought about the tone of her voice when she opened her heart to him, and the way her face was profiled against the dying fire. At the time, he hadn’t even realized he didn’t give her any response to her feelings. “Harry,” someone whispered urgently. Suddenly he realized he was staring, and that the voice was Ginny’s. “Harry, snap out of it!” He blinked a few times, and turned back to the others. Ron and Hermione were too happily involved with each other to notice that they had lost his attention, and he was thankful for that. “Sorry,” he apologized, “my train of thought must have gone off track.” She merely nodded in acceptance and leaned her head against the seat, looking wearily out the window. They rode the rest of the way in silence, and upon reaching the Burrow, the boys and girls separated, two unwillingly, and two willingly, to unpack their things for the week ahead. ***** The feelings building in Harry were very foreign to him and the harder he tried to push them down, the more they grew, it seemed. When they exited the car, he felt Ginny’s eyes pleading with him to remember what she had said and how she felt. He gathered up his things as quickly as possible and escaped to Fred and George’s old room. He then took as long as humanly possible to unpack, fighting an inner battle with himself to get her out of his mind for her own protection. It left him drained and in a bad mood. When he finally came down to dinner, he ended up seated at the farthest end of the table from her, and whether on purpose or not, he decided it was for the best and ate his dinner in relative silence. Mrs. Weasley was too preoccupied to notice, what with the new couple to laugh with and congratulate, and Moody and Lupin were too deeply engaged in conversation even if Harry had wanted to talk to them. When they were all done eating, he slipped off to the family room and eased into the sofa by the fire, closing his eyes against the throbbing of his scar. He’d got used to it for the most part but it never helped matters when it hurt. He sat this way for a few minutes, only opening his eyes again when Hermione showed up, alone. “Hi,” she said, sitting down next to him. “Ron’s going to be talking with them for a while, so I decided to let them have some family time.” She hesitated, “How are you?” “I’m fine.” She looked at him as if she didn’t believe that for a second. He tried again, rolling his eyes, “Okay, I’m really worried about what happened last night. You and Ron seem to have things worked out but it still feels like there’s something unresolved. I just can’t figure it out.” He sighed in frustration and ran his hand through his bedraggled hair. “Harry,” she touched his arm and he jumped a little. “I’m sorry. I should never have kissed you, and I certainly should never have repeated… See, this thing we can do, it’s going to take some practice, and some discipline. I feel so bad for letting that slip last night, and I’m mad at myself for getting into the situation in the first place. Maybe… maybe we can work on it this summer.” She smiled half-heartedly. Harry nodded. “Thanks. I wish it hadn’t happened but I’m glad that something good came out of it.” She only nodded back, seeing that his heart was in his words but that he was still upset. She leaned back and turned to watch the fire. “Was Ginny upset when she read the letter?” he blurted out. Hermione was startled by the change of topic and her words were rushed as she answered. “Harry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think you would mind if she read it, and she asked to, and I didn’t want to tell her no. I was just so happy right then, from what you said. I didn’t realize what she might think of it.” She paused to take a breath, then continued more slowly, “She was… upset. She cried and… oh, Harry, I shouldn’t be telling you this. It’s not really my business.” A look of intense pain crossed his face and he shut his eyes for a moment. “No, I’m glad you told me. I shouldn’t have any secrets from you anyway.” He paused and looked down at the floor, “You know what I wrote in that letter? I really do… I really, er… “ “I know,” she said, “and I wish you’d realize that we’re not going anywhere. I know you’ve tried to trust people before but you still haven’t learned that we can love you, and do.” “Yeah, well, it never seems to work out very well for people who do that, does it?” His words were full of bitterness, and a sudden darkness crossed his face. Memories of Sirius crept over him, and of darkness and pain. He felt his throat getting tight and tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. Sirius had loved him, no doubt, but because he loved him, he had paid with his life. His parents loved him and they didn’t live to see his second birthday. Cedric… well, he and Cedric had developed a mutual trust and he had been killed without a second thought, just because he was near Harry. Even though it had been years, he still felt the pain and guilt as if it were yesterday. And there were so many innocent, nameless others who had died at the hands of Voldemort, chalked up on an unwritten tally that he always kept in the back of his mind. He felt himself getting angry with Hermione. He knew it was unjustified, but she – well, none of them – would back down. Their determination to be his friends meant a lot to him but the thought of any one of them dying because of him was more than he could take. He looked up with a dark fire in his eyes. “You can’t do it!” he hissed quietly. “If you stay with me, you’ll end up dead, too!” His breath was starting to come more rapidly now, and his ears were filled with a dull ringing. He knew she was talking to him but he couldn’t hear half of her words. “Harry?” her voice was quivering and her own eyes shown with tears. “You’re not going to push us away. Please don’t do it! We’ve been in this together for seven years now, and you still don’t realize it, do you? We’re not going anywhere!” Her last words were spoken so loud that it brought his hearing back. The fire still burned in his eyes though, and he had no intention of letting her get her way. “I’ve… I’ve been thinking, Harry. About ways we can help you, and I think… I think I’ve found something. Please just listen.” He turned his head away but she could tell he was listening. “Now this could be really hard, not just actually doing it, but letting yourself do it. I know you’re strong Harry, and I know if you set your mind against it, you’ll never let us in, but this could really work. I mean, we found Ron after all, why can’t we use this to help you deal with some things too?” “Spit it out,” he snapped, “what’s your idea?” “Well, now I want you to really think about this, okay? It could help you a lot. I was thinking that maybe you could let us into your feelings. Maybe… maybe we could use Memoria Acies to let us feel your feelings. Imagine spreading your pain across four people, and how much better you’d feel after that. Then we could truly understand your pain and try to help you.” He turned back to face her, seething in anger and not even knowing why. “Why would I want to do that? Why should you have to feel my pain? I’m the guilty one! I’m the one who’s responsible for all these people getting killed. You shouldn’t have any part in it. Let me handle my own problems, my own way!” “And what’s that way, Harry? By going off and brooding, bottling it all up inside! You should learn to let it go sometimes. Let us help you, it’s why we’re here. We love you, and we want to help you. As for it being your fault, it’s not. How many times do we have to tell you that? It’s not your fault, Harry. It’s not! Voldemort is so full of hate and greed, he’d be killing people whether you were here or not. It’s his fault, not yours. If there were no prophecy, you wouldn’t have to fight him. It’s not your fault that this is happening to you and to those around you. We chose to stand by you and we’re not backing down.” She was now red in the face and almost as angry as he was. “I don’t have to fight him,” he said quietly. “It’s just the way it’s going to be. The prophecy doesn’t really mean anything.” Hermione looked at him completely dumbfounded. “But… but I thought – “ “No,” he said, “the prophecy doesn’t force me to do anything. Dumbledore finally made me see it in a clearer way. I do have to fight Voldemort but not because of the prophecy.” He paused for a moment, suddenly realizing that he needed to explain this to all of them. “Hermione, I don’t want to say this three times, can you get Ron and Ginny?” He pulled his glasses off and rubbed his hands across his face. Hermione was startled slightly by the dark lines under his eyes, and immediately felt a little guilty for having yelled at him. She got up from the sofa and went back into the kitchen, leaving Harry to work out how he was going to explain the intricacies of the prophecy to his three best friends. When she reached the kitchen, a sea of redheads turned to watch her come in. She felt her face get a little warm, wondering what they were all thinking, and stopped at the end of the table. She hesitated for a moment. “Harry wants to talk to us, Ron, and you too, Ginny.” She watched as Ginny blushed at being included in whatever it was they were about to discuss, and smiled a little at her friend’s pleasure. She’d felt like that about Ron for a long time. She promised herself to talk to Ginny about it later. Everyone watched curiously as they left the room but thankfully no one asked any questions. When they all arrived back in the family room, Harry had left his seat and was pacing back and forth in front of the fire. The look on his face betrayed a mix of both anxiety and exhaustion and Hermione hoped this wouldn’t take long so they could let him get some rest. She knew that he only showed his emotions when he was tired, and he would probably be mad at himself tomorrow. Harry stopped pacing briefly as they sat down. Ron and Hermione sat together on the sofa, and he noticed the pink tinge of both their ears as they reached out to hold hands. Ginny took a seat in the armchair closest to the fire, looking up at Harry as if nothing mattered in the world but what he was about to say. It shook his resolve slightly, seeing her willingness to listen and help. He wondered briefly if what Hermione said could really work, but pushed that away, returning to the prophecy and what he needed to tell them. “Okay,” he began, “Hermione and I were talking a few minutes ago and I realized that you all might be under the wrong impression regarding the prophecy.” He steadied himself as their eyes widened in concern. “I’m sure you know that the wording of the prophecy makes it sound like Voldemort and I have to fight each other because it’s our destiny. But what’s more important is… is the idea behind the prophecy. It boils down to the fact that I don’t have to fight Voldemort.” The collective gasp in the room made him second guess why he was telling this to them. What if they tried to convince him not to fight? What if they gave up on him when he told them he was still going to? “Then why do it?” Ginny asked. Harry was concerned to see her trembling but he had to give them an honest answer, no matter what the result. “Because I have to,” he said. “But, but you just said – “ Ron sputtered. “I know what I just said,” he sighed. This was going to be harder than he had thought. “I don’t have to fight Voldemort. It’s possible I could survive without ever facing him, by just running away and hiding… forever. The prophecy says neither of us can live while the other survives. It took me a long time to figure out what that really means, and I only did when Dumbledore helped explain it. It’s like this: I can’t really live while he’s alive because he’s always going to come after me. I can’t live, not that I can’t survive, but I can’t live. I can’t do the things I want and lead the life I want. So, in a way, I have to fight him if I want to live, if I want to live my own life.” He stopped to give them a chance to think about it. It felt like several minutes before anyone spoke. “Well,” said Ron, “why don’t you just run away? It’s not like you’d have to be alone, I mean, we’d all go with you.” Harry had to smile at his friend’s show of loyalty, but he shook his head. “No, Voldemort would just pursue me. He knows part of the prophecy, the part that says I’m a danger to him. And… well, I can’t just let him win. If there’s a possibility that I can destroy him, then I have to do it. If he’s going to keep killing and causing pain, I can’t just let him do it. I have to fight. The prophecy says we have to fight, because I say we have to, not because it’s my destiny or something.” He paused again but not long enough for anyone else to speak. “I know you’re all thinking I should just run away, but I’m not going to. I have to stand up to Voldemort so that I can have the chance for a real life,” he sighed and looked at the floor, “whether I get it or not. Now, if you want to leave, I won’t blame you. You might not understand why I have to do this, and I certainly don’t want any of you to get hurt, because it would be my fault. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now, and I’ve made my decision. I have to go against him.” He turned and stared into the fire, hugging himself tightly. It was a long time before anyone said anything. “You prat!” Ron exclaimed, getting up from his seat and stalking toward Harry, who cowered a bit. “We’re not going anywhere, so stop trying to push us away!” Ron pointed a finger at him and jabbed him in the chest to emphasize each word. “We. Are. Not. Going. Anywhere.” Hermione joined him in an instant, her resolve clearly stated in her eyes. They stood next to each other holding hands and looking at him defiantly. He turned toward Ginny to relieve the pressure and felt a cold chill run down his spine. She was crying. Half of him was trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his heart, wanting to pull her close and comfort her, the other half strangely angry because she was the only holdout. Suddenly, without warning, she jumped up and flung her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. He put his arms loosely on her back, not knowing quite what to do with her outburst, and enjoying holding her a little more than he ought to. “Harry,” she sniffed, “when are you going to learn? We love you and we’re going to stay by you until the end… and I mean growing old together, all of us.” She pulled away as suddenly as she had sprung at him, and he was surprised by the fierce look in her eye. She put one hand on her hip and pointed the other at his face. “We are not going to leave you, and I for one would like to see you stop trying to make us! Next time, we might not take it so well, and you’ll find yourself hexed into next Tuesday.” She huffed and sat down again. Harry was so shocked by her reaction that he couldn’t control himself and burst out in chuckles. “Ginny, you just looked so much like your mum. I love you!” The silence that suddenly filled the room was so deafening he thought his ears had been hexed off. “I mean, I think you’re great,” he sputtered, “it’s funny when you do that.” He sighed, “Look, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that… well, I just didn’t mean it like that.” He looked away. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “I know what you meant. It’s fine.” They all looked at each other uncomfortably for a few moments. Finally, Ron called Harry to go upstairs with him, trying to convince him to get some rest. Harry followed, glad for an excuse to leave the room. When they reached the landing at Harry’s room, they paused as if they felt there were something that needed to be said, but weren’t sure what it was. Harry’s head was spinning, and he could barely hold himself up. He gripped the doorknob, leaning on it slightly, and rubbed his other hand roughly across his forehead. Ron only stared at him, clearly uncertain of what to say. Harry just shook his head, said goodnight, and disappeared into the room behind him. When the door finally clicked shut, Ron was alone. He shook his head in wonder at his friend but then smiled as he thought of the other events of the day and of the happy dreams he would have of the girl he could now call his. He was both nervous and excited as he climbed the rest of the stairs to his room. Hermione, the girl he’d secretly watched from afar, the most beautiful girl in his year, was now his girlfriend. The smile on his face broadened a little bit. It was still hard to believe, and even as he sat down on his flaming-orange bed, he questioned why she had chosen him. But then, in the end, she had chosen him, so maybe it didn’t matter. He changed into his pajamas and laid back onto his bed, not even bothering to get under the covers. His eyes trailed around the room but never focused on anything. His brain was busy imagining her sitting downstairs with Ginny, talking and laughing. He could almost see the smile on her face and hear the warmth in her voice. It was a warmth that he’d never truly heard until today. He’d always loved her voice, whether it was whispering in his ear, or yelling at him from across the room. But now, it had an added facet, one that was just for him, a softness, an under-layer exposing her real feelings. It gave him a wonderful warm feeling knowing that that voice was just for him. It was his alone. Of course, he knew there were many things that would change now. It was going to be like getting to know her all over again. His nerves jumped at the thought and a tiny voice wondered what would happen if either of them were hurt during the war. He shoved that aside with force, and concentrated on the future. Not knowing what their future might bring, and worried about making any little mistake with her, he vowed to take his time and begin their new relationship slowly. That’s what his dad had always taught him, right? He thought back to the many talks he had shared with his dad about girls, and he remembered learning how much more conservative the wizarding world was than the Muggle world. Of course it seemed obvious now: the sovereignty of the teachers, the common school robes, the caution that most new couples showed toward each other. He recalled even hearing that many boys still asked permission from a girl’s parents before asking for her hand in marriage. He knew he didn’t want to make any mistakes with Hermione, and that no matter what it took, he would always give her whatever she wanted, because she was his girl. ***** Back downstairs, that girl sat with Ginny in front of the comfortable fire where they were talking quietly. “It just hurts,” Ginny said, “when he says things like that, is all. Especially in front of everyone,” Ginny said dully. She wasn’t crying, nor was she happy. She just felt numb. “I know,” replied Hermione, “and I’m not even going to say he’s got a lot on his mind. That may be true but it’s no excuse for treating you like that.” Then a small smile spread across her face, “Still… he did say he loves you.” Ginny shrugged her shoulders. “Yes, but he didn’t really mean it.” “Of course he did,” Hermione shot back. “He does love you. The problem is he still thinks that it’s the love of a sister.” Ginny sighed, her face was turned to the fire, but her eyes were focused elsewhere. “I don’t know why I do this to myself. I should just get over him and move on, date somebody normal, like you said. But I’ve hurt for so long, I don’t even know what normal is. Hermione, he’s a part of my life, more than ever. I can’t give him up… I mean I can’t give up on him… Argh! I can’t even say it right! We’re closer now than we’ve ever been, and he needs friendship now more than he ever has. I wish I could give him everything he needs, and get over him at the same time. I guess I’m just doomed to spend my whole life being his friend, and never really anything else.” Hermione looked at her sympathetically. Ginny continued, “I’ve tried getting over him before. I’ve dated other guys, it’s just…” “None of them compare to him,” Hermione added softly. It wasn’t a question. Ginny turned away from the fire, “Ron?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Hermione blushed and nodded slowly. Ginny reached out to her, showing her first genuine smile. “I’m glad you finally worked things out. He may be my brother, and the world’s biggest prat, but he likes you.” She paused and looked down for a moment. “How long have you liked him?” “Well, it’s been coming on so gradually, I hardly know. I suppose I would have to say since first year.” Ginny’s eyes widened. “Since first year?” “Well, he did save me from the troll… He was really brave, knocking it out with its own club…” Now it was Hermione’s turn to look far-off, with a silly grin and goggly eyes. Ginny tried not to laugh at the new Hermione sitting next to her, “Ron? Brave? I always thought he was a bit of a git myself.” She bit her lip, realizing that it was far easier to laugh about Ron than it was to face the truth about Harry. “Maybe so but I like him anyway. And now I know he’s liked me for ages, too, but never could pluck up the courage to do something about it. So, that means there’s still hope for Harry, who’s an even bigger prat than Ron.” Hermione tried to look serious when she said this but couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from twitching a little. Ginny could only smile and try to steer the conversation away from herself and Harry. When she finally went up to bed nearly an hour later, the joys of her friend had completely driven Harry from her thoughts, until the darkness of her room brought back the old feelings. She gave a long, depressed sigh as she climbed into bed. She knew she’d never date another boy without comparing him to Harry. It was such a fruitless cause even trying that she suddenly came to a realization – Harry was really all that mattered. Even if he never did feel the same way about her, it didn’t matter. He still needed her, still needed her support. There was no one besides her who could give to him so completely of her emotions and support. If they were going to get through this war, they had to stick together, no matter what, and she would be right by his side. Even if it would be better to be with him as more than just his friend, it was still the best choice just to be with him. An ironic smile crept onto her face as she drifted off to sleep: it had been seven years, what was another one or two? *** The next morning they all converged on the Weasley kitchen at mid-morning to share some breakfast. Harry sat in the same seat he had the night before, and upon examining his plate, was surprised to find a piece of toast with butter and jam. He looked up quickly and saw Ginny at the other end of the table, giving her eggs much more attention than one normally attributes to such things. He could have sworn she had been looking at him but dismissed it as his imagination. As much as he wanted to keep his feelings for her under wraps, he appreciated the gesture she made every morning with a simple piece of toast. Strangely, it was probably the best gift anyone had ever given to him, and he hadn’t even asked for it. After having a bit of a lie-in that morning, Harry felt much better than he had the day before, though he still carefully avoided Ginny the rest of the day. For her part, she managed to keep her eyes away from him most of the time. Even when Mrs. Weasley sent them into the garden for a bit of de-gnoming, she stayed as far from him as possible. In fact, she was so intent on it, she didn’t even realize he was doing the same. After a brief lunch, during which no one said much of anything, they all grudgingly agreed to start studying for their Apparition training, which would begin the next day. Hermione spread their books out on the floor in front of them and handed out schedules for the week ahead. She claimed that without them, they would have no chance of passing at all. Ginny was too happy about learning Apparition a year early to care, Ron was gladly doing anything Hermione asked of him now, and Harry just went along with it because it gave him something to focus his mind on. When they entered the Ministry the next day, it was under the heavy guard of members of the Order and Ministry Aurors. They were led to the same guard Harry had met in fifth year for wand inspection but this time Harry had no intention of giving his up. Fortunately, the power of being famous helped him today, and Harry grumbled quietly as the wizard gazed transfixed at his scar, and let him pass without question. When the others had passed their inspections, they proceeded to one of the open lifts, and with almost no interruption at all, arrived at level six, the Department of Magical Transportation. They were greeted at the desk by a young woman who was both cheerful and efficient. Their paperwork was quickly completed, their trainer was assigned, and before they knew what had happened, they stood in a large room and a man entered holding a clipboard. He was about identical in height to Harry, with a round face and a short black mustache. His robes were crisp and he walked with a decidedly quick step, although he didn’t appear to be in a hurry. Harry looked around and noticed that other than a few portable walls, the room appeared quite empty. The floor was thickly padded, as were the walls. The light pouring in through the many skylights scattered stars all around the high ceiling. “Same as the rest of the Ministry: magical weather. Though with the new Minister, we’ve been getting pretty much the same weather as outdoors lately. There was a time once when we got nothing but rain for weeks on end. Magical maintenance was angling for a raise that year.” Harry looked around and saw that the speaker was none other than the man who had entered behind them, whom he assumed was their trainer. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Harry muttered. The man walked over to them and offered his hand. “My name is Sir Andrew Catskill, Director of Introductory Apparition Training.” They introduced themselves and shook his hand while he proceeded to explain their training. “Due to your special circumstances, we have accepted you into the extremely condensed one-week Apparition class. You will live and breathe Apparition for the next five days, culminating with your examination on Saturday. Each morning you will arrive here no later than eight-thirty a.m. We will then discuss theory until ten, after which you will have a short break. Practical training will go until one in the afternoon, then you are free to leave. You are responsible for your own transportation to and from the Ministry, and I trust you have already arranged such. When you leave, you will spend the rest of your day studying. I do not recommend practicing away from the eyes of a licensed trainer. However, I believe that one may already be scheduled to assist you in the afternoons and evenings, if required. “I expect your full cooperation in this endeavor, otherwise you will not be successful. Apparition training usually lasts 12 weeks, and we only offer this condensed version in very unusual situations. I have not been apprised of your situation, and I will not ask you questions about it. I have been assigned to your class by my superior, and I plan to teach it as I would any other class. Are there any questions before we begin?” Harry looked around and was slightly surprised by Hermione’s lack of questions. As no one else had any either, they began. They started by studying the history of Apparition and then moved on to its appropriate uses and courtesies. Harry wasn’t surprised to find out that it was improper to simply appear inside someone’s house without first notifying them. He almost laughed out loud imagining a wizard suddenly appearing dramatically in the lounge of the Dursleys’ home with no forewarning. Of course it would have been nearly as funny even if they had informed his uncle first! Harry found himself deeply engrossed in the subject and wished all of his classes at Hogwarts had been as interesting. Sir Andrew was an excellent teacher, extremely knowledgeable, but able to put things on the level of his pupils. Before Harry knew it, their theoretical lessons were over, the break had ended, and the time had come for their first practical lesson. Sir Andrew spread the four of them out in a simple line, leaving enough room between that they might have been able to touch each other had they stretched out their arms. Harry was a little worried to find himself standing next to Ginny, because he didn’t want her to see his embarrassment if he made a mistake. Ginny only smiled briefly at him, then turned her attention back to Sir Andrew while making sure her hair was tight behind her head. Their teacher stood in front of them at an angle, and with his wand, drew boxes on the floor about four feet away from each of them. “Your goal,” he explained, “is to Apparate into your box quickly and cleanly. You will not need your wands, so please pocket them. “Now, I want you to look into the square I have drawn in front of you. In your mind’s eye, picture yourself standing in it, as if it were where you have always longed to be. It is your own place, a location set up just for you. With this idea in your head, close your eyes and imagine stepping into empty space and reappearing inside the box. Apparating is simply a matter of will. The strong minded often find this easier than the weak minded, and I believe you all fall into the first category. Your magic will carry you there if it is where you truly want to be. If you are distracted by thoughts of lunch or an afternoon nap on the lawn, you may very well find yourself suddenly standing in your mother’s kitchen, or in the grass by the garden. Of course you can’t do that from here because of the wards, but that’s a topic for another day. “Let’s try it now. Remember, close your eyes, picture yourself stepping into space, and appearing where it is you really want to be – the box drawn on the floor in front of you. Ready? Proceed.” Harry felt silly standing there with his eyes closed, picturing himself appearing inside the box. But he had to give Sir Andrew the benefit of the doubt and try his hardest. He imagined that the box held his favorite chair from the Gryffindor common room, and that it was waiting there just for him, beckoning him to it. He felt himself slipping into its comfortable grasp and leaning back into its soft depths. He quietly pushed aside the thought of a red-haired girl peacefully reading her favorite book in it. Summoning up his strength, he did as instructed and imagined stepping out into space, focused entirely on where he wanted to end up. The feeling of what happened next was difficult for him to describe later on. It was as if a door were closing in front of him, and he needed to jump through it quickly before it did. The fear of missing the opening, or getting his arm stuck nearly made him lose his concentration, but when he opened his eyes, he was suddenly filled with the greatest feeling of exhilaration, nearly as good as flying. He had done it. He had actually done it! And he had also managed, at the same time, to conjure up the chair from the common room and find himself seated in it. He quickly tucked down beside him the small book that sat resting on the arm. Sir Andrew looked at him wide-eyed and a grin spread across his face as he hurried over. “Mr. Potter! That was very remarkable indeed. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen it done quite that way but I must say I’m very impressed. On the first try, too!” He scribbled notes furiously on his clipboard, then nodded to Harry before stepping back to the side. Harry looked at the others and felt his face go red at their looks of surprise. He thought he even detected a disgruntled snort from Ron at the far end of the line. As comfortable as the chair was, he climbed out of it, and with a wave of his wand, banished it to the side of the room – it could still come in handy later, he thought. In the minutes that followed, only Ron was able to make the leap as Harry had, though without the comfortable landing. After some twenty minutes of the girls trying, Sir Andrew called them all back together. “I see that we are about halfway there, and I would like to take a few moments to have you regroup. It may be helpful for you to learn from each other. Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, if you would please explain how it was that you managed to Apparate your first time, while the others listen, it might help them. When they are done, Ms. Weasley and Ms. Granger, would you please try to explain your block to them. Sometimes trying to find the words to explain it will help you to achieve it.” He ushered them into a group, then walked away to inspect the chair Harry had accidentally conjured. Once huddled together, they mostly just looked at each other for a few moments, too nervous to speak. Finally, Ron broke out with, “Gosh, that was hard!” He ran his hand through his hair and let out a sigh of relief. It was just what the others needed, because they all laughed and then started talking. “I guess,” Harry began, blushing just a little, “I just pictured what he said. I imagined the box holding something that I really wanted. It was sort of comfortable to me, and I could see myself ending up there very easily. I don’t know… it’s like,” he looked down, his ears turning more pink, “it’s like smelling your mum’s cooking, and knowing that I get to eat it in a few minutes.” The others laughed, and Ginny added, “Well, don’t get too caught up in that, you might just beat us home, and then there’d be no food left for the rest of us!” Harry gave her a little shove, and she pushed him back, smacking him playfully on the arm. “Hey, now,” said Ron, “no fighting, we’re here to learn, remember?” Hermione beamed at him, and nodded quickly in agreement. They all took their places again. Another hour later and frustration was setting in from all sides. The girls hadn’t been able to move an inch, and neither Harry nor Ron had been able to do it again. Sir Andrew finally blew his whistle sharply and they all gathered near the chair Harry had conjured earlier. “Well now, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Sir Andrew smiled around at them. Harry couldn’t understand his happiness about their trying but wasn’t about to argue. Ron sat down on the floor and closed his eyes, while Ginny looked out the window dejectedly. Hermione appeared near tears and took a seat next to Ron. “Why all the long faces? You can’t really have expected to do this on the first try, can you?” He walked around them, motioning with his arms. “Apparition is a difficult thing, and rarely do I ever see anyone do it right on the first day,” he smiled at Harry and Ron, “What I’d like you to do is this: go home, take a break and eat a healthy lunch, then get out your books and study what we’ve covered this morning. Remember, it’s all about focus. Studying helps to focus the mind, and you may find that by immersing yourself in the material, you are better suited to actually perform tomorrow.” Hermione was the only one who looked at all excited about going home to study, and the others followed her quietly out of the room and down the lift. No one spoke much as they met their escorts and left the Ministry. Even the ride home was fairly uneventful, except for the occasional grumbling of Ron’s stomach, at which they all had to laugh. Only when they finally reached the Burrow did any of them start to show signs of life again. Harry started to feel better the moment they walked through the door, although he partly attributed it to having bumped into Ginny on the way in and sharing a small smile with her. After a lunch of roast beef sandwiches, they grudgingly picked up their books and settled down to study. After their teaching in the morning, Harry almost found the subject matter interesting and was mildly eager to finish the first two chapters on the magical creation of Apparition and its modern day uses. He ended up so wrapped up in it that by the time dinner rolled around, he hardly noticed that he was now reading by candlelight. As they sat around the kitchen table, a strange owl landed gracefully on the window sill. Mrs. Weasley let it in and they all watched as she untied a rather sizeable letter from it and released it back into the warm evening air. “Who could that be for?” Ron asked with a mouth full of mashed potatoes. A small bit slipped out onto his chin, and Hermione dabbed it off with her napkin, laughing at his reddening face. “Why, it’s for Hermione!” Mrs. Weasley said, surprised. “Who could be sending you something this size, dear?” Hermione looked up, her eyes ablaze with curiosity, and accepted the heavy scrolls. She slid her wand smoothly across the seal and unrolled it on the table in front of her. Ron leaned in close to read over her shoulder and she didn’t bother to shoo him off. As she read on, her face lit up with pride, while his took on lighter and lighter shades of gray. Finally she rolled it back up and put her hands on the table, as if to steady them. Ron leaned back in his chair, looking deathly pale, and Hermione began to explain. “It’s a letter from the Wellshanter League,” she said quietly, clearly struggling to hold back the awe in her voice. “They want me to become a member.” Harry watched everyone’s reactions curiously, unsure of exactly what she was talking about. Mr. Weasley smiled broadly and nodded his head slowly while Mrs. Weasley held her hand over her gaping mouth. Ron continued to look like stone, while Ginny looked genuinely happy and touched Hermione’s shoulder with her hand. “Are you going to accept?” she asked quietly. Hermione turned to her with an obvious gleam in her eye. “No,” she replied, “I’m not. I’m just amazed they even want me.” Almost before she could finish, a cacophony of sounds burst forth in the room. “Hermione, dear, are you certain that’s what you want to do?” “Hermione, think of all of the wonderful things you would get to study. Why, I bet they do all kinds of research on Muggles.” “But… but it’s what you’ve always wanted…” “Are you sure?” one voice asked quietly, coming from a very hesitant-looking Ron. “Yes, I am sure,” she replied, looking him in the eye. He let a small smile tug at one side of his mouth. Mr. Weasley reached across the table and put his hand on hers. “Hermione, this is the opportunity of a lifetime. You’re talking about the most respected magical research group in the world. Are you positive you want to pass that up?” His voice wasn’t lecturing, but kind and curious. “Yes,” she said softly, “I do.” She took a deep breath then looked across the table, directly into Harry’s eyes. “I have my reasons for staying, one of whom is sitting across from me.” She turned to Ron. “Ron is another,” she turned to Ginny, “and Ginny is another.” “Oh fine, just put me second,” Ron teased, unable to contain his smile any longer. “Well… “ she paused, “Harry is the most important man in my life, you know.” She fluttered her eyelashes across at him, as Ginny nearly collapsed onto the floor in laughter, while Ron shot daggers at her. Hermione took Ron’s hand in her own and immediately he forgot why he was mad. She turned to everyone and explained herself. “You see, I’ve got a list of priorities. You can see it if you want.” She bit her lip and turned to Ron. “Should I go get it, so everyone can see?” “No,” he laughed, “I’m sure they can imagine.” Harry tried his hardest to contain his laughter, and in the process managed to choke. Mr. Weasley had to pound his back several times before he could breathe again. “Sorry,” he croaked. “It’s quite all right,” Hermione replied airily, “As I was saying, there are things in life that are more important than a job. We’ve all,” she motioned to herself, Ron, and Ginny, “promised to stand by Harry’s side through this war. I’m not trying to say he’s weak, it’s just what friends do.” She raised her voice and looked directly at him, “There are some risks worth taking!” Harry felt her eyes drilling into him again and looked up, a guilty smile on his face. “There are things more important,” she continued, “like eating this pudding, and defeating Voldemort.” She pulled back at their reactions, looking scandalized, “What, it’s not like I’m going to leave it for Ron to eat!” Then she looked around at them, proud of her joke. Everyone rolled their eyes. “Well, I am a Gryffindor after all,” she added, “and we have to work together to do what’s right, even if it means giving up… other things.” She looked down at the scrolls in her hands. “Hermione,” Ron said, “I… I don’t… You should go. Really.” “No,” she answered softly, “I’m not going to go. I knew that a few job offers might come in, and I knew I wasn’t going to take them. I want to stay. That’s that.” Harry saw Ron’s smile and he glanced at Ginny. She was watching Hermione proudly, clearly approving of her decision. He looked away quickly when her gaze turned on him. Later, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat by the fire – Ginny had been roped into washing dishes – Harry decided it was time to bring up his plans for the summer. He watched his friends talking quietly on the sofa before deciding to interrupt them. “So I’ve been thinking about what we should do this summer.” They turned to look at him. “And I was just wondering what your plans are.” He looked from one to the other. “Well,” Ron began, “I didn’t have anything. I guess I just thought we’d be helping you.” Hermione nodded and said, “Right, we’re going to help you. We can study defense, and practice hexes. I can come up with a list of everything we should be trying to learn!” Harry smiled at her reaction. It was just as he expected. “Well, what if I already had someone to do that for us?” Ron cocked his head to one side looking curious, while Hermione looked a bit disappointed. “Who?” they asked together. “Before we left school, Dumbledore told me that he’d received an invitation for us. It asked if we’d like to go and study for the summer… with the Teacher.” Ron’s eyes opened wide in anticipation and Hermione started fidgeting nervously. “We’ll have to get permission from your parents of course but he’s already invited us to go. He wants us to spend the whole summer there, studying and practicing. I’ve got to warn you though,” he smiled, “it’s hard. I mean, he can be tough. We’ve been working on some things for a long time that I still can’t – “ “What can’t you do, Harry?” Ginny asked from the doorway, drying her hands on a towel. Harry just stared back at her. “Harry’s just asked us to go study with the Teacher for the summer,” Hermione said in awe. Harry watched as Ginny’s smile faded slowly away. “Harry,” she asked quietly, “why couldn’t you ask me, too? You know I want to help. I could… no, never mind. It’s fine.” She turned and walked back through the door. Harry watched her go, his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyes showing nothing but concern. “But, but,” he stammered, “she’s invited too! Dumbledore all but told me to invite her and we need her help!” He put his face in his hands, “Well, that was good.” Ron just shook his head. “It’ll be fine, Harry, really. She’s like this all the time. Just give her a bit, she’ll be back, and she’ll be happy again. You can tell her then.” Hermione punched him in the arm, looking quite angry. “We can’t do that,” she said, “Ginny’s hurt, she thinks we didn’t include her.” “Yeah, but she’s always like that,” Ron tried to reason. “No, you just think she’s always like that. I swear, Ron, just because you finally realized you like me apparently doesn’t mean you’ve developed any actual emotions yet.” Ron looked scathed, “Of course I have! It’s just, she really is like this. Harry, you know what she’s like, don’t you?” He turned to Harry but his head kept turning. Harry was gone. “Humph,” Hermione grunted, “at least he knows what to do.” As Harry walked through the kitchen, he could still hear the voices of his friends arguing over what should be done. For him, though, there was only one thing that could be done. He had to find her and try to explain. He looked around the kitchen but found only Mrs. Weasley. She indicated the back door and smiled knowingly at him. He smiled back weakly, then stepped outside. It was still warm but a stiff breeze blew by him, messing his hair up even more than usual. He looked around but she wasn’t on the back porch. Walking out into the garden, he paused for a moment, straining his ears to hear something fleeting on the voice of the wind. It sounded like a sniff and a sob. He turned in circles with his eyes closed, feeling, rather than looking for the source of the sound. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and started walking. The sound became stronger, and the sheer pain of it made his heart ache. She was hurt, and he had hurt her. Turning a corner, he spotted her small form sitting on a carved stone bench. Her head was down in her hands and he could see her shoulders shake with each quaking breath. He walked toward her, and she lifted her head at the sound of his footfalls. “Harry, go away,” she said. He unconsciously reached out to her and rested his hand on her shoulder, taking a seat by her side. “Ginny,” he said, surprised by the depth of his voice, “I’m sorry. I should have waited. That wasn’t how you were meant to hear that.” She turned her head further from him. “Please?” he asked, shocked by the sudden feelings that accompanied that word. It was pleading, and trusting, and wholly unobstructed. His entire heart went into that single word, and she turned her head. “You were meant to hear it like this,” he took her hand. “Ginny, it would be an honor for me if you would come with me this summer. Will you, please? I can’t go without you.” There was a great pause while she searched his eyes, then the smallest of nods and a twitch of her mouth told him yes. It was several quiet minutes before her tears subsided. She laid her head on his shoulder, periodically wiping at her face. He didn’t know why, but for some reason, he wasn’t uncomfortable. He remembered her hugging him after Ron’s dramatic return home but none of the same feelings were present now, so he held her just as close, willing her to feel some of his comforting thoughts but still too afraid to say them out loud. Finally, she rose from her seat and grasped his hand. Together they walked back up to the house in silence. ***** The next two days passed in a blur. Apparating seemed to be all they talked about and Hermione was on a roll, writing to, or asking every witch or wizard she knew for advice and for descriptions of their first time learning to Apparate. The events of Monday night passed apparently unnoticed. Harry never brought them back up until it was time to avail Mr. and Mrs. Weasley of their plans for the summer. “Mr. Weasley,” he said after dinner one night, “I don’t think Dumbledore ever mentioned that I’ve been studying with a man named John. Well, I usually just call him the Teacher. I used to go every few weeks during school for a couple of days to learn, er… defense.” Harry felt his ears redden a bit, he was still uncomfortable getting special attention, even if it was to teach him how to defend himself against Voldemort. “I see,” said Mr. Weasley, “and where do you go for this… training?” “Well, you see, er, it’s not… well, I don’t know,” he raised his shoulders in a shrug. “I think it might be somewhere in the States but I’ve always Portkeyed there from Dumbledore’s office. Anyway, he invited the four of us to go there this summer, after we take our Apparition tests. He wants to work with all of us.” “Well,” Mr. Weasley replied evenly, “I think that would be a very good thing to do.” They all stared at him. “But, Dad, don’t you even want to hear what Harry’s learned?” Ron asked. “Yes, I would like to hear about it, but I can agree first, can’t I?” He smiled at Harry, “Harry, I trust you, and I trust Dumbledore, and if you would like to tell me more about it, I’d love to hear it.” Over the next half-hour, Harry explained in detail the sorts of things he had been learning from the Teacher. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all equally eager to listen given that Harry had never properly explained his training to them either. Sometimes they nodded in approval, other times they smirked at his embarrassment, and they always gasped appropriately at the right points in his stories. It felt good to tell them everything, he realized, knowing that it was long overdue. When he finally reached the end, they decided to talk to the Grangers the next day to ask their permission for Hermione to go. She assured them that it would be fine and they shouldn’t worry about making it sound too dangerous. As Harry lay in bed that night, his mind kept wandering back to the look on Ginny’s face as he told story after story around the dinner table. She had been so truly happy, he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her smile like that, or look at him like that. In a way it reminded him of how she had once behaved around him; shy and removed, blushing at the slightest glance from him. Tonight, though, had been something different. A hint of pride was mixed in with her excitement, and Harry felt almost giddy about it. She was proud of him. It was a different feeling than he remembered from years past. It felt good, and right. He remembered always feeling slightly embarrassed by her… well, not really by her, rather for her, when she would run from the room or put her elbow in the butter. But now it was somehow different. She was so much more herself than she had ever been. She had the confidence to smile at him and look at him, while he now had the trust to want her with him while they stood side-by-side and learned from the Teacher. Harry tried to hide a smile at the thought of her standing next to him, learning the same magic, trying the same spells, practicing day after day. Oh yes, it was going to be a wonderful summer! With that thought he drifted off to sleep and pleasant dreams. As they entered the Ministry the next day, thoughts of a certain book flitted across Harry’s mind. It was, in fact, the same image he’d used the past two days to Apparate successfully, the book that he had seen in Ginny’s lap in his memories. He felt his face grow just a little warm at the thought and hoped that the others didn’t notice. Ginny’s book. He’d watched her without even realizing it, for so long, sitting quietly, peacefully, reading it. It was a safety net for her and he knew that anytime she was feeling sad or upset about something, she’d end up in that chair with that book. It must have given her such comfort, and Harry was glad for it. Fortunately for him, his friends were too engrossed in their own practice to notice that every time Harry conjured a chair, a small book also appeared on its arm. Once or twice he thought he saw a strange look on Ginny’s face, but it was gone just as quickly and he dismissed it as nothing. Sir Andrew continued to praise Harry for his aptitude but as the others were coming along well with their own skills, his time was becoming more evenly split with them. Their studies in the morning continued to hold Harry’s attention, covering everything from Apparition distance to comparing the internal magic of Apparition to that of Portkeys and other magical transportation. As their lessons concluded Wednesday afternoon, Sir Andrew explained their topics of study for the following days. “Tomorrow we’ll begin discussing approved Apparition locations and international Apparition laws. These are both critical to your being able to move about without breaking any laws or regulations, as well as planning your travel appropriately. On Friday we’ll go over some more advanced subjects including Anti-Apparition wards and Side-Along Apparition. Finally we’ll conclude with a brief review of this week’s material and information about the licensing procedure. Are there any questions?” Hermione looked for a moment like she wanted to ask something but appeared to decide against it on seeing Ron’s face. He grimaced and rubbed a hand over his stomach. Ordinarily, Harry wouldn’t have expected her to go along with it, but she merely turned her head away, hiding a small grin, and shook her head. They partook of another full lunch provided by Mrs. Weasley and then spent the afternoon studying. Harry was starting to find the study of Apparition quite enjoyable now, although he couldn’t deny that some of that enjoyment came from the proximity of Ginny and the satisfaction of finally having a common class with her. He often found himself seated next to her, engaged in deep magical theory discussion, while Ron and Hermione formed their own study group. He found he didn’t mind at all. Ginny’s depth of knowledge in many areas impressed Harry and the two of them were a perfect complement to each other in studying. After dinner, Harry began to feel the telltale prickling of his nerves, which only increased after the quick trip through the fireplace flue to the Granger’s house. He swiped his hands on his pants and greeted Hermione’s parents cordially, trying to hide his concern through a forced smile. Only when Ginny purposely took a seat by his side and threaded her fingers into his did he begin to relax a little. His nerves now had something else to busy themselves with: the sensation of her hand in his. It was nearly enough for him to forget why they were there at all. Apparently it was also nearly enough to make Hermione forget why they were there, as she kept watching them, and smiled to herself so often that she missed some questions from her parents. It turned out that the Grangers were rather concerned about their plans for studying with the Teacher. Hermione had not told them about the letter she received from the Wellshanter League, but they inquired about other prospects until she finally informed them, politely but firmly, that she was going to help Harry before doing anything else. In the end, they were more worried about why their daughter needed to learn such advanced magic than the actual teaching of it, but they grudgingly agreed to let her go. After promising to visit again soon, Hermione hugged and kissed her parents, collected a few things from her bedroom, and they left. Back at the Burrow, she explained her thoughts to them all, now well out of hearing range of her parents. “Of course they’re going to be worried. I know it’s not safe, but honestly, I am of age now and asking them is really only a courtesy. I mean, I love them, I really do, but sometime I have to start leading my own life.” “Hermione,” said Ron thoughtfully, “I think you’ve been doing that for some time now.” She smiled sweetly at him and took his hand, blushing pink. “Oh how sweet, Ron,” Ginny said, screwing up her face and pretending to gag, while Harry fell out of his seat laughing. Ron’s ears turned red, but instead of being angry, he stuck his tongue out at her. “You’re just jealous,” he said, “because you don’t have a boyfriend.” In an instant, Ginny’s wand was drawn, she flew across the room and carefully aimed it at Ron’s nose, all faster than he could blink. “You can’t do that,” Ron said cheerfully. “Oh yeah, who’s going to stop me?” she snarled. “Well, besides Mum, you’re underage. You can’t do magic at home.” Ginny swayed slightly on the spot, then pocketed her wand and huffed out of the room. Harry frowned at Ron. “Nice going, now I’ve got to go straighten that out, too. Way to make her feel wanted.” Ron at least had the decency to look sorry as Harry pushed open the door and walked out. As soon as he was gone, Hermione’s voice sounded behind him, scolding Ron. Ginny wasn’t hard to find this time, as she had only gone as far as the fireplace. She stood facing the stone hearth, and Harry walked up behind her feeling a strange desire to reach around her and pull her close. He shook it off and instead contented himself with his hand on her arm. She jumped a little at his touch but then half-smiled at him. “All right, Ginny?” he asked. “All right,” she replied. “I just don’t know why he has to do that, to rub it in like that.” “Well, that’s Ron, the emotional range of a teaspoon.” She laughed, and Harry watched as her shoulders relaxed a little. “Sometimes he just makes me feel… like I’m still not one of the group,” she said quietly. “Even without what he said, I still feel that way sometimes.” She sighed deeply, then added, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this…” “No,” he said firmly, “you’re as important as any of us. I know I don’t help matters that much myself. It was just stupid of me the other night not to wait for you before asking about the Teacher. I’m sorry, I really am, but… please believe me, you’re important to us… to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you, with those two together now.” He kicked the floor a little. “It’d be awful lonely without you around.” “Thanks,” she said shyly, and he could see a bit of pink in her ears. “I’d better be going to bed now anyhow, but…” She turned a little on the spot, with a small gleam in her eye, then pounced, hugging him fiercely before going upstairs. He could only watch her go, smiling, as her ponytail brushed back and forth across her neck. Get a hold of yourself, he thought, she’s still off-limits. His smile faded away, and then he, too, went upstairs for bed. Once again, time sped by in a blur, and Harry found himself lying awake in bed on Saturday morning with one thought in his head; would he pass his exam? The Apparition exams were to take place at noon, in the same hall they had practiced in all week. Sir Andrew was to meet them there and promised to stay for moral support, but a different examiner would actually proctor the test. At breakfast, Harry looked around the table and was relieved to see he wasn’t the only one who looked nervous. Ron sat idly picking at his food while Hermione fretted in her seat, alternately taking a bite and then turning to check an answer in her book. Ginny hadn’t even bothered to get any food and just sat leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. Before they knew it, a knock at the door signaled the arrival of their Ministry escorts and they filed out and into the waiting car. The drive to the Ministry was as fast as ever, considering just how far it really was, and they talked very little. A few remarks about the weather and some musings about where they would have to Apparate to was all they could muster. At the Ministry, Sir Andrew greeted them as normally as ever, his wide smile and energetic pace helping to ease their fears somewhat as he led them into the familiar hall. It appeared much as ever, except for the addition of a small table to one side where two people sat, looking over four file folders. “Mr. Worthington and Ms. Kingsbury will actually be observing your exams today. I’ll be around, in and out and that sort of thing. Not to worry,” he added, winking sideways at them, “you’ll do fine. I’ve never had a better class.” For a moment Harry thought nothing of his statement but his curiosity began to get the better of him. “Uh, sir? Is that true?” Sir Andrew clasped his hand on Harry’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Well, yes it is. I’ve been teaching this class for twenty-three years and you’ve impressed me more than any class I’ve had. Make no mistake, there’s something unique about the four of you. You share a common heart, a desire, if you will, to prove yourselves. Yes, I have no doubt you’ll do fine today. Good luck.” He tipped his hat at them and disappeared back through the door again. “Well, shall we get started then?” a voice asked. Mr. Worthington had risen and came around to the front of the table. “I understand from Sir Andrew that you all have grasped the technique very well. That should make our testing easier, no Splinching to repair – always nice not to have to reassemble people. Now, as there are two of us presiding over your test, this should go nice and fast.” He turned back to the table for a moment, studied their files and then faced them again. “I believe we’ll start with Ms. Granger and Ms. Weasley. Let the ladies go first, eh?” His partner rolled her eyes but got up and came around the table as well. “Miss Granger?” she asked, “If you’ll come with me.” “And I’ll take Miss Weasley,” he said. Harry and Ron watched in concern as the girls were led off through a side door that seemed to have just appeared. Turning to each other, they shrugged and walked over to a window. The sun was shining and a few clouds drifted lazily by. Harry pulled his wand and spun it between his fingers, smiling as a pair of comfy chairs appeared neatly next to him. Taking a seat, he tipped his head back and closed his eyes, wondering nervously what kinds of testing the girls were going through right now. While they waited, the two boys talked of Quidditch and school and studying, never staying on one subject too long. The chairs were comfortable and the sun was warm. Harry found himself becoming quite relaxed and noticed that Ron also was looking rather content. Over the course of an hour or so they alternately chatted and were quiet. The room was just starting to get a little too warm when two figures appeared running full speed toward them. Before Harry knew what hit him, a short red-head was wrapped around him, laughing and smiling with a happiness that warmed him through. He looked over at Ron and saw that Hermione had buried her head in his shoulder. Harry nearly choked with laughter as he heard very un-Hermione-like squeals muffled in Ron’s shirt. Ginny pulled away from him suddenly, with a blush that spread across her whole face. Harry he could almost feel the heat but pretended not to notice. “We passed!” she screamed. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. We only had to go just county to county and then once cross-country.” “You’ll be fine,” Hermione added, seeing the look of fear on Ron’s face. “Really, you will, it wasn’t any harder than doing it right here. You just have to concentrate.” “Yeah, easy for you to say, you’re done.” “Well, I still think you’ll – “ “Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley,” a voice interrupted. Harry turned and saw the examiners standing by their table again. He turned to Ron and nodded. “Well then, shall we?” Ron nodded grimly back and they walked across the room and through the door. Oddly, what waited on the other side was no different than the room they had just left. They stepped in and Mr. Worthington held up a photo for them both to look at. It showed a room again very similar to the one they were in but with bright yellow walls instead of plain white. “You are both to Apparate to this room. It is located just on the other side of the building, to the west. Please proceed when you’re ready, one of us will be waiting there to greet you.” Harry turned to Ron but saw that his attention was already being drawn to the task at hand. He closed his eyes and focused on the room in the photo. A chair pushed its way into his vision, with a small book sitting on the arm and he felt his face go red. Hoping that if anyone noticed his color they would attribute it to concentration, he took a deep breath and squeezed his way into space, appearing the next instant in the bright yellow room. To his side was the chair and book, which he quickly hid in the cushions. He let out a sigh of relief and watched as Ms. Kingsbury scribbled something on her clipboard. Only a few moments later a popping sound announced the arrival of Ron, who, when he realized he had made it, let out a whoop and punched his hand into the air. “Maybe that wasn’t so bad after all,” Ron said, suddenly trying to sound quite casual. “That was just the beginning,” said Mr. Worthington, who had just appeared next to them. He handed them each a small, worn book. “These books show the locations to which you must travel. There are pictures and descriptions at each check point, as well as a journal that you must sign – that way there’s no skipping a stop. Periodically you will find one or the other of us scoring you at a check point, pay no attention but keep your mind focused on where you’re going. Take your time and don’t get ahead, keep your attention on where you are trying to go next, and nowhere else. Oh, and make sure you spend at least a few minutes resting at each check point. Any questions?” They each thought, then shook their heads. “Okay then, this shouldn’t take long. When you end up back here, there will be a short debriefing and then you’ll be done. Let’s go.” Harry opened his book, studied the next location, and closed his eyes. The sensation of long distance Apparating was similar to traveling short distances but seemed to require more energy. Glad for the advice of resting, Harry made sure to spend at least a few minutes at each stop catching his breath. He always felt like his chest was being compressed during the actual move and it was starting to take its toll. The rests became longer the farther he went. He saw boring white rooms, colorful, entertaining rooms, a field, the top of a building, and a tall, grassy knoll. As the test continued, he gradually became more and more comfortable with the actions to take, though not any more energetic. It also seemed that each time he landed he noticed a small book lying nearby. Before he moved on to the next check point, he always made sure to vanish the book first, lest any uncomfortable questions should be asked. At the last check point, he sat down for a full ten minutes on the ground before proceeding back to the Ministry, and when he arrived, he was glad to take a seat in the chair offered to him by Ms. Kingsbury. “Well done, Mr. Potter. You passed with no mistakes, a feat rarely achieved.” She smiled. “You should be proud of your work. Now, normally I would spend some time discussing your mistakes but you’ve done so well, I don’t have anything to discuss.” She read her notes again, and made a few marks at the bottom. “That looks all well and good,” she handed him a piece of paper. “There you are, all done. Now go celebrate with your girlfriend.” Harry’s face burned and his brain seemed to disconnect from his mouth. “She’s, erm, she’s not… she’s Ron’s sister, not my…girlfriend,” he stammered. “Oh, well, my mistake,” she smiled cheekily at him, then waved him toward the door. On the other side, the hug that was waiting for him made him never want the day to end. When Ginny let go, Hermione hugged him just as tight. “I won’t kiss you,” she promised, “well, not on the lips.” She pecked him on the cheek, while Ginny giggled at Harry’s squirming. “Honestly, Harry, you’re getting better, but you’ve still got a long way to go.” Ginny stood on her toes and pecked him on the other cheek, while Hermione stood back and laughed. This time though, Harry wished she’d been a little off-mark and hit his lips instead. They waited a few minutes and performed the same greeting on Ron, who was grinning ear-to-ear and holding his certificate up proudly. “We made it!” he said. “We made it!” they all echoed. That evening, after a full day of celebrations and a full meal of roast beef, chicken, potatoes, and a large treacle tart, the four sat down by the fire, tired but happy. Harry felt his eyes closing more than once, and struggled to keep them open, while Ron and Hermione talked quietly next to him about how they had gone about Apparating. “I just used the book that Ginny always read in the common room,” Harry said absently, his eyes still closed. “She always sat in that chair and read it. That’s what I imagined reaching out to.” His head tilted back against the cushions and his mouth dropped open slightly while the others just looked on. Ron’s look was collected and resolved, and Hermione was grinning madly, but Ginny only looked off into the flames of the fireplace. Even after a statement like that, she was still waiting for him to remember her midnight confession to him and give some offering in return. A bit later in the evening – and after rubbing the shoulder Ron had punched to wake him up – Harry made his way upstairs to start packing. Since he had only been a visitor there for a week, his belongings were all still nearby and didn’t take long to gather. When he finished, he wandered upstairs to see how the others were getting on. He stopped at Ginny’s room and smiled at the sounds of frustration slipping under the door, imagining the look on her mother’s face if she could hear. Unable to resist, he opened the door and stood in it, watching the spectacle before him. Ginny was storming about her room, picking up piles and piles of clothes and trying to fit them into a bag on her bed. Only when Harry openly laughed did she turn. He ducked quickly as her wand appeared in front of his face, though he couldn’t hold back his smile. “What?” he asked. “Are you going to hex me because I found you in all this state?” The laughter was evident in his voice. “No,” she answered with an evil grin, “worse, I’m going to make you help. It’s your fault, after all, that I don’t know what to pack because I don’t know where I’m going.” “Oh, well, that’s easy.” He stepped grandly into the center of her room and held out his wand dramatically, saying “Pack!” What happened next was only slightly better than what his belongings had done when he witnessed Tonks using the spell. Most of Ginny’s belongings leapt into the air and piled themselves into her bag. When the storm was over, Harry still felt something amiss, and his embarrassment could hardly be described when he reached up and gingerly removed a pair of Ginny’s knickers from his head. Somehow he didn’t find it quite as amusing as she did, and in running out of the room he nearly tripped over his own feet. Ginny actually fell off her bed laughing and her stomach still hurt when she went to bed that night. The next morning Harry entered the kitchen with the full belief that the incident would be completely forgotten, or at least kept just between them. He was wrong. With only one foot through the door, a storm of giggles burst out from not only Ginny, but Hermione, too. Thankful that at least Ron had not yet heard of his graceful packing skills, Harry held his head high and proceeded into the room. He glanced at Mrs. Weasley and was even more horrified by the almost-entirely-but-not-quite-concealed smile on her face. His steps became even more forced but he was still determined to salvage what was left of his pride. The two girls were sitting side-by-side at the table and at least had the decency to feign innocence as he approached. Only when he put his plate down did they burst into laughter once again. He pulled his wand and took careful aim. “Harry,” Ginny said between laughs, “it’s hopeless you know, there’s no way you can avenge this one.” “Want to bet?” he said quietly. “Abiungo brassieres!” The effect was instant. Both girls screamed and threw their arms around their backs, frantically trying to fix their now unhooked undergarments. “Harry!” screamed Hermione, “what did you do?” He just leaned back and smiled, “Amazing, the things you learn, sharing a dormitory with Dean and Seamus. Never thought I’d actually get to use that one.” About then, Ron entered. In the midst of the chaos and explanations, the girls escaped, while Harry, leaving out the details from the night before, gave a full account of the last few minutes. It was hard for them both to eat, they were laughing so hard. Late that afternoon, Mrs. Weasley collected them to begin the ritual goodbye hugs and kisses. She dabbed her eyes so many times that her handkerchief was quite wet by the time Harry found himself in her embrace. Then they all moved outside in a tight circle. Mrs. Weasley patted each of them gently on the back before stepping away to her husband’s waiting arms. On the ground between them was an old scrap of parchment for a Portkey. Faded writing was still visible on one corner but Harry recognized the author. It was writing he knew, it was the writing of a friend, it was the writing of the Teacher. He smiled to himself and let the warmth flood over him. It was finally time, they were leaving to spend the whole summer there, in a place with no distractions, just freedom with his friends, and a bit of learning to survive. Distantly he heard the voice of Mr. Weasley counting down the time until the Portkey took them away. His finger was pressed into a corner of the page and he couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting to a narrow finger opposite his. Just as his eyes rose to meet hers, he felt the familiar tug behind his naval, and they were off.
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