Content Harry Potter
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It was nearly bedtime. The four friends sat in the library, finally having a bit of time without adults around so they could talk freely.

"Harry, are you all right now?" Hermione asked in concern.

"I’m fine," he said quietly.   He and Ginny were sitting side by side on the couch while Ron held Hermione in his lap in the big armchair.   Harry’s face was guarded, but he sighed and said, "So what did you want to know about the wandless magic?   I’ve already forgotten your question."

"I’ve got questions too, mate, but if it’s too soon, just tell us," Ron said, looking earnestly at Harry.

"Go on, then," Harry said cautiously.

"You did a lot of very difficult spells with no wand.   How did you do that?"   Ron watched Harry’s face carefully.   "I’ve always heard the Killing Curse was unblockable, yet you blocked it, and wandless.   How is that possible?"

"The blocking or the wandless part?" Harry said, his eyes wary.

"Either.   Both."

He sighed.   "OK.   The wandless bit is probably easier to explain," Harry said, taking a deep breath, sitting up straighter and doing his best to go into his "teaching D.A. mode."   "Wandless magic has a different . . . erm . . . feel than magic using a wand."   He took his arm from around Ginny’s shoulders and leaned forward, elbows on knees, using his hands expressively as he spoke.   "For a difficult or big spell, you have to use a lot more power than you would with a wand, since the magic is concentrated differently.   For simple things, once you learn how to do it, it’s easy, like flipping a light switch," he said, looking at Hermione, who nodded.   Ron’s and Ginny’s confused expressions told him they didn’t really understand his reference.   "Flipping a light switch in a Muggle house turns the light on.   It takes no effort to speak of on the person’s part, just flip," he demonstrated with a finger, "and the lights are on.   Wandless magic for simple spells is like that, just ‘flip’ and the spell is done.   It’s easier than doing a Lumos with your wand, once you are competent with it.   Learning how to do it is quite tricky, though.   Wandless magic is like. . . um. . . .   It’s like energy flowing out of your fingers.   Each finger has a. . .a stream of power flowing out of it.   You can point each finger in a different direction for some spells — sort of like casting a net or web type of thing — or curl your hand to create a. . .a vortex of power in your hand, I guess you’d say."   He was moving his hands as he spoke, demonstrating the positions he was discussing.   "Ron, you’ve seen the balls of energy I’ve cast."

Ron nodded.   Harry had done that when he was in a rage at Hogwarts and created a pond behind Hagrid’s hut.   The same spell had vaporized the three assailants at their first landing spot in France over Easter break and melted Voldemort’s feet at the top of the cliff.

"Those are created with this vortex of pure power I make when I curl my hand this way."   He held his hand like a claw, all the fingers pointed toward his palm.   "The power from my fingers feels like it . . . um. . .whirls around in the palm of my hand and gets stronger.  It’s more powerful if I’m really angry or scared."   He looked at his friends, seeing puzzled faces but nods as each of them struggled to understand his explanation.   "I have to build up a certain amount of rage to cast the big spells wandlessly — I can’t do them ‘cold.’   I have to be in an absolute flaming rage.   But without the wand, the control is vastly different, as is the feeling of the magic."  

He paused, trying to think of a better way to explain.   "Erm. . .OK, you know when I’m furious and things shake?"   They all nodded.   "If my anger gets past that, to the point where things just break on their own, I don’t have control of my magic.   But if I can capture the power of that rage just before it gets away from me, everything has a. . .a sharp focus, a crystal clarity, I guess you could say, so I can focus the magic with my hand and don’t need the wand.   I can gather the power into a . . .a surge?   Something like that.   And then I can focus it through my fingers and cast it in a . . .a wide ‘net’ if my fingers are spread," he demonstrated with a gesture of his hand, "or focus it to a fine point if I hold my hand differently."   He held his hand with the fingers curled toward his palm again, the palm pointed away from him.   "If I use both hands together, with them cupped like this, I can cast and hold a huge spell between them."   He shrugged.   "I don’t know how else to explain it.   And that vortex of power thing — I can’t do that as well with a wand as I can without one.   I honestly don’t know why."

"I’ve never managed anything wandless," Hermione said with a sigh.   "This vortex — it’s more powerful than anything you can do with a wand?   I don’t understand.   I just can’t see it."

"Hold your hand out, Hermione," Harry suggested, reaching toward her.   "Ron, you and Ginny put your hands next to Hermione’s."

They all looked at him in confusion.   "What are you going to do, mate?" Ron asked quietly.

"I’m going to build up power and let you feel its vibration.   It isn’t a particular spell and doesn’t require an incantation — it’s just power.   Maybe doing this will help you understand how different wandless magic feels from what we normally do.   Hold your hands next to each other."   When they complied, he grunted, his face seriously concentrated, then began to pant a bit.   A moment later, his face red with exertion, he quickly passed his claw-like hand over their grouped hands.   They drew their hands back quickly with exclamations of pain, shaking their hands as if they’d been burned.   Harry instantly dropped the spell.

"I’m sorry!   Did I hurt you?" he asked in alarm.   "I didn’t think it would be painful, or I wouldn’t have done it!"

"No, but it stung," Hermione said, staring at her palm.   "It was weird, as if my hand had been hit by . . . I don’t know, a hard smack with a strap or something, not like an electrical shock.   It was very powerful.   Does it sting you, Harry?"

Harry was busy kissing the palm of Ginny’s hand in apology.   When he looked up, he said, "No.   I feel a. . .what?   Um. . .a kind of rhythmic vibration.   It seems to match my heartbeat."   He cupped his hand and passed it over his other hand, shaking his head, his expression mystified.   "It doesn’t hurt my hand.   I don’t understand it."

"That rhythmic thing makes sense, since magic is in our blood," Ginny commented.

"Maybe it doesn’t hurt you because it’s part of you," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"It seemed to be hard for you to do that, Harry," Ron said, his face confused.   "When I saw you do those spells before, I didn’t think it required such an effort.   It certainly didn’t look like it did."

"The effort was partly because I did it without being angry or scared, and partly because I was working hard to hold back the power so it wouldn’t hurt you," Harry said quietly.   "That was a taste of it, just a taste.   If I poured on the power to create that vortex and didn’t hold it back the way I did just now, I don’t know what it would have done to your hands.   I just wanted to push your hands a bit, that’s all — that’s what I was trying to do, just a little push.   That’s why I passed my hand over yours so quickly, so it would be a little push, not a big one.   I don’t know why it stung."

Ron stood up and walked across the room.   "Maybe the problem was just that we were too close to you.   Send that ‘little push’ to me over here, mate.   I want to see how strong it really is."

"It may knock you down, Ron.   Are you sure?" Harry warned.   He stood up and faced his best friend.

"I know you won’t hurt me," Ron said confidently, spreading his feet wide in a braced stance.   "Let’s go."

"OK," Harry said.   "Just don’t stand so close to the fireplace.   I don’t want you to bang your head or anything."   After Ron moved, Harry built up his power and held his hand toward Ron for no longer than a heartbeat, knocking him back several feet.   Ron landed in a heap on a pouf, just barely managing to stay on it without hitting the floor.

"Bloody hell!   It felt as if Hagrid shoved me!" Ron said, grinning.

"Are you OK?" Harry asked, crossing to help Ron to his feet.

"Yeah!  That’s wicked, Harry.   We’re going to have to work on that one!"

"Yes, please, Harry, teach us how to do wandless spells!" Hermione asked fervently.

"OK, if you want.   No problem," Harry said.

"What about those shields that stopped the Killing Curse," Ron urged, glad Harry was willing to talk about how he did what he did without getting too upset.

"Those Dark Arts books belonged to Voldemort, you know," Harry replied, and saw his friends nod in reply.   "I found a shield charm in it that was very strong, but it wasn’t strong enough to block the major curses.   I’ve been working on it myself, trying to make it stronger, and apparently it’s working.   There’s a Sphere Shield Charm that’s even better.   You cast it around yourself when you need protection from all sides.   It’s not solid enough to withstand the Killing Curse either, but I’ve been working on that one as well.   It’s terribly difficult to do, a very fiddly charm.   If you waver the least bit, it dissolves, but if you hold it correctly, it’s brilliant."

"If those charms aren’t strong enough to withstand the Killing Curse, how did you block it, then?" Ron pressed.

Harry shrugged.   "I think it was mostly luck, and the timing and angle of the spell that deflected the Killing Curse.   Those spells shouldn’t be strong enough to block it yet, but I’m still working on them."

"How are you making these shields stronger?" Hermione asked, fascinated that Harry was developing existing charms into something far more effective.

"I can’t explain it.   It’s more of a ‘feel’ thing than anything else, but I’ve been doing research on spell creation, spell improvement, that kind of thing, as well.   To improve those spells, I’ve done a little bit of this and a little bit of that," he said, shrugging, "and then testing the spells on conjured rats.   Dumbledore showed me how to test spells without using actual Killing Curses so we wouldn’t hurt each other when we’re working together, but I’ve been working on these particular shields by myself.   Basically, I’ve just worked on concentrating the magic more, putting more power behind it, trying different incantations with them to help them last longer and be more impervious to spells."

"And they worked?" Hermione said, clearly impressed.

"Yeah," he said with a shrug.

"Amazing," Hermione breathed.

"Yeah, you should have seen him, ’Mione!   He was incredible!" Ron enthused.

"Ron?"   Harry said, his face suddenly very weary.

"Yeah?"

"Theory of magic is fine, but discussing the battle itself?   I just can’t deal with it right now, OK?"

"Yeah, Harry, sorry," Ron said, instantly abashed.

"It’s late, and you’re all exhausted," Hermione said, "Let’s go upstairs.   We can talk more another time."

"Sounds good to me," Ginny said, getting up and stretching.   "I’m knackered."

"Nope, you’re beautiful," Harry murmured as he wrapped his arms around her.   He bent his head down next to hers and whispered, "I love you, sweetheart."   It was still their secret, something he wasn’t ready to share even with his best friends.  

"I love you, too," she replied equally quietly, turning her face for his kiss and holding on to him for a long moment.

Hermione noticed a new glow on Ginny’s face, a truly surprising thing given what she’d been through and her state of exhaustion.   And Harry — in spite of everything he’d been through, his weariness, his heartache, the horrible memories of what he’d been through, he was holding Ginny so tenderly, and seemed truly content in her arms, his depression and weariness apparently lifting while he was in her embrace.   Hermione watched the two of them a moment more, then looked up at Ron.   "Something’s changed," she whispered.

"Yeah, I’ve noticed," Ron agreed quietly.   "We can talk about that later too."

* * * * *

"Harry, why won’t you go with us?" Ginny pleaded at breakfast the next morning.   "There won’t be anyone here but Dobby while we’re gone."

"That’s OK," he said, staring down into his bowl of porridge.   He was very withdrawn this morning.

"What are you going to do while we’re gone?" Ron asked, tilting his head to see under Harry’s fringe.

"Dunno.   Study, maybe," Harry replied. "N.E.W.T.’s wait for no wizard, right, Hermione?" he said with an attempt at a grin.

"Harry," she said adamantly.   "All work and no play makes Harry a dull boy.   If I’m willing to take a day off from studying to go shopping for your house — might I remind you, it’s for your house? — then you certainly can take the time off as well."

Harry bent his head, his clutching fingers tangled in his hair, his body tense.   "You don’t understand."

"What don’t we understand, mate?" Ron asked quietly.

"I just. . .I can’t. . . .   I just want to be alone."   He finally raised his head and looked at his friends.   His eyes were dark green pools of misery.   He hadn’t slept well and he’d been gloomy ever since he got up.

"To do what?   Brood?   Be depressed?   Come on, you need some ice cream and sunshine!" Ginny said, tugging on his arm.   When he ignored her, she squirmed her way under his arm and got in his lap, pulling his head down until he was nose to nose with her.   "You’re coming with us, and that’s final!"   She wiggled defiantly in his lap, nibbling on the end of his nose and his chin as she did so.

"You’re going to get your hair in my porridge," Harry said, the faintest hint of a smile starting to tickle the corner of his mouth as he lifted her long hair and pulled it in front of her shoulder, away from his porridge.  

Ginny noticed his smile and kissed that corner of his mouth.   "Ah, I’m beginning to get through to you!" she said, moving the kiss to the centre of his mouth and getting more serious for a moment, then taking his lower lip in her teeth and pulling on it.

"Ow!" he said in mild protest.   "You’re wounding me, woman!"

"Come shopping with us or I’ll do worse, and you know I can," she threatened, her eyes twinkling as she rubbed noses with him and then very deliberately smeared his glasses with the tip of her nose.

"Well, that was simply uncalled for," he said mildly, but that hint of a smile was growing.

"Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet, Mr. Potter," she vowed, tangling her fingers in his hair and rocking his head from side to side.   "Are you going to come quietly, or am I going to have to get rough with you?"

"Oh, please, get rough with me, it sounds like fun," he said, finally chuckling at her antics.

"Yeah, it does, actually," she said, leaning in for another kiss.   "Sorry about your glasses."

"They’ll clean," he said with a shrug.

"Please, Harry?   Come with us?" she said sweetly, all aggression forgotten for the moment.

He was quiet for a long moment, gazing steadily into her charming brown eyes.   He finally signed and capitulated.   "All right, I’ll come."

"Good," she said in satisfaction.   "I would have hated to have to hurt you."   She kissed him resoundingly, making him laugh again, then got out of his lap so he could finish his breakfast.   And she had, indeed, got her hair in the porridge and had to remove it with a Cleansing Charm, much to Harry’s amusement.

* * * * *

A couple of hours later, Molly, Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron were on Diagon Alley, going from shop to shop looking for ways to brighten up the Grimmauld Place house.   The first thing they did upon reaching Diagon Alley was to buy Ginny a new wand, since hers had been lost in the lake.   Then they went to a shop selling paint, wallpaper and curtain fabric, where they’d picked a soft buttercream colour for the walls and a beautiful rich burgundy fabric with a design worked in gold thread for the curtains.   They also chose golden sheer curtains to hang behind the heavy curtains so that, when the curtains were open, the rooms would be bright but the sunlight would be softened.   With those hard decisions out of the way, they were off to find decorative items such as pictures, paintings, posters, tapestries, anything bright and cheerful to hang on the walls of Harry’s house.   The boys favoured Quidditch posters, the girls favoured paintings of flowers and animals, and Molly favoured country scenes.   Harry bought some of each, to have a variety of things in his house.

"I never knew shopping could be so much fun," he said as he paid for the last paintings they were planning to buy on this trip.   His mood had brightened considerably once they started finding things he liked for the house.   "Who’s ready for some ice cream?"

"Me!" everyone cried.

"Next stop, Florian Fortescue’s!" Harry cried, acting like a train conductor.   His friends were being determinedly jolly, trying to draw him into a lighter mood.   He knew Ron and Ginny had bad memories to overcome just as he did, so for their sakes he was doing his best to be upbeat and cheerful.  

Harry had noticed people staring and pointing at him at various times during the day, but he’d done his best to ignore it, concentrating instead on his friends and their shopping discoveries.   Once they were seated in Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour, however, he could clearly hear what strangers were saying.

"Killed fifty men with his bare hands!   Read it in the paper, I did!" one old woman seated at a nearby table said, pointing with her warty chin at Harry.

"Melted You-Know-Who’s feet, he did," her friend replied.   "Ain’t it amazing?   And he’s right fair to look at too."  

The two old women stared lasciviously at Harry, their eyes running up and down his frame, obviously inspecting every inch of him that they could see, and speculating raucously about the rest of him.  

"Lookit the shoulders on ’im!   And wouldn’t you love to have him hold you against that chest of his?   Oooo!"   At this, the woman stopped speaking and fanned herself dramatically, laughing raucously as she did so.  

"Tall, dark and handsome, that’s the way heroes should be made!" the other woman said merrily.   "Wonder if he’d stand up and turn around so we could see his bum?   Don’t ya love it when they wear them Muggle blue jeans instead of robes?   Especially if they’re tight!   His could stand to be a bit tighter, but they’re not too bad as they are!"  

They cackled and elbowed each other, whispering — and none to quietly — more things about his anatomy that made Harry’s cheeks flame.

"Lookit the size of his feet!   You know what they say about THAT!" the first old crone guffawed.   "Whoooo!   What I wouldn’t give to be forty years younger!   HA!"  

"Forty?" her friend retorted with a snort of laughter.   "Try fifty!   HA!"

By this time, all of Harry’s friends had heard enough of the conversation to know why he was blushing so badly and squirming so miserably.   Molly got up and stormed over to the old women’s table.

"Do you have any idea how uncomfortable you’re making that boy?" she demanded.

"So what?   He can take it."

"He’s a person with feelings.   You should be ashamed of yourselves!   Don’t you have children?"

"Nope, never had any," the first old woman said.

"Me neither," said the second.   "Never wanted none either.   I’d take that ’un, though!" she said, cackling toothlessly.

"Well, I have several, and you’ve insulted their best friend.   He’s a good and decent boy and you have no right to say such awful things about him.   Now stop it!" Molly demanded, and then whirled around, heading back for her own table.  

"Mrs. Weasley, look out!"   "Mum!" cried Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Ron as the crones both raised their wands to hex Molly.   Harry threw a shield behind Molly and the spells bounced back on the old women.   Both of them leaped screaming to their feet, cursing loudly as their own jinxes were joined by Ginny’s Bat-Bogey Hex.   A spell from Hermione caused their ears to sprout rhubarb.   Ron’s jinx had them tap-dancing down the street, still cursing loudly.   Harry and his friends collapsed in laughter.

"Well!" Molly said, laughing as she sat down.   "Those old biddies deserved that!   Well done, you lot!"

"But, Mum, they were talking about what happened as if they knew," Ginny said uneasily.   "I mean, none of us who were there have talked to anyone but you, Dumbledore, Hermione and Dobby.   How do they know?"

"I know how they found out," Hermione said, her expression gloomy.   "I was trying to keep it from you so it wouldn’t spoil your day, Harry."

"What is it?" he snapped, preparing himself for the worst.

"The Daily Prophet ran a word-for-word transcription of your testimony yesterday in today’s paper," she said, pulling the paper out of her bag and handing it to him.

"Oh no," Harry said, his heart sinking while his stomach boiled nervously.   His eyes raced down the page, picking up titbits here and there, Ginny reading over his shoulder.   "That explains why we’ve been stared at so much today," he said glumly, handing the paper to Ron.  

"How did they get this information, though?" Ron asked as he looked through the article.

"It sounds like something Rita Skeeter would write," Hermione grumbled.   "I thought I’d taken care of that problem."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

Hermione looked cautiously at Harry.   Seeing only curiosity there, not anger, she took a deep breath and explained.   "When her articles came out about Harry and, um," she glanced uneasily at Harry again, "and Casey, I contacted Professor Dumbledore and told him she’s an illegal Animagus."

"What did he do about it?" Harry asked.

"He turned her in to the Ministry.   I don’t know what happened after that," Hermione said, "except that we haven’t seen any articles by her since then."

"You lot haven’t heard what happened to that woman?" Molly asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"After those stories she did on Harry and Casey last summer?   The Ministry decided that she hadn’t broken any laws except for being an illegal Animagus," Molly explained.

"Casey and her family and a lot of other people died because of what she wrote, and she didn’t break any other laws?" Harry growled in sudden rage.

"Harry, dear, please — calm down.   That’s the way the law is written.   I didn’t say I agreed with it, or that it was right," Molly said in a placating voice.   "She’s being punished for being an unregistered Animagus.   That’s all they could charge her with."

"What’s her punishment?" Hermione asked.

"She was sent to Azkaban for several months, and then she has to do a year of community service, teaching reading to handicapped Muggles.   And she’s had a spell put on her to keep her from ever transforming again," Molly replied.

"That’s not enough," Ron snapped, glancing at Harry’s stony face.   "Mate, you all right?"

"Yeah," Harry replied in a low voice. "It’s not fair.   So many innocent people died. . . ."   His voice broke and he stopped speaking.  

Ginny wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly.   Ron put a companionable hand on his friend’s shoulder, and Hermione reached across the table and held his hand, hoping to comfort him.   Molly looked at Harry with her heart in her eyes.

"I know it doesn’t seem just," Molly said, "but it’s more punishment than she would normally have received.   Tutoring the Muggles was added on because of all the harm her articles have done."

"Why didn’t you tell us about this earlier?" Ron asked.

"I didn’t want to bring up bad memories," she said, shrugging her shoulders helplessly.   "I knew Harry was trying to put all those things behind him, and I didn’t want to . . . ."   She quieted, seemingly at a loss for words.  

Harry looked up at her, then sighed.   "It’s OK, Mrs. Weasley," he told her.   "I’ve been thinking about how to stop her for quite a while.   I suppose the Ministry’s punishment is probably as good as I could hope for. . .although I was hoping she’d get a lifetime in Azkaban."   He shrugged, kissed Ginny on top of her head as he hugged her, and glanced around at his friends.   "At least she’s out of business now.   That’s a relief."

"Why didn’t the paper run a story on her capture and punishment?" Hermione asked.   "I’ve been reading it every day looking for information on what happened to her."

"The paper wouldn’t want such information to get out, would they?" Ginny said wisely.

"That’s right, dear.   I suspect they worked hard to keep that story quiet.   I only know about it because Arthur told me." Molly replied.   "Word did get round the Ministry about it.   I thought Professor Dumbledore would have told you lot before now."

"Maybe he thought it would upset Harry to be reminded about all that," Hermione suggested.   "So how did the paper get this article, if she didn’t do it?"

"I don’t know," Harry replied, but in his heart he said, Percy.  

No sooner had he thought it than Ron said, "Percy!"

"What?" Molly said.

"Percy is the leak.   It says this is the ‘transcript by Minister Bones’ Clerk, Percival Weasley.’"

Molly gasped.   "Percy wouldn’t do anything like that. . . ."

"Wouldn’t he?" Ron snapped.   "Harry, you said you saw him there, right?"

Harry nodded, hoping he wouldn’t have to say much more.

"How did he act?"

"He, um, he acted very, um, professional," Harry said lamely.

"Did he smile or wave or even act as if he knew you?" Ron pressed.

"Erm. . .no."

Ron turned to his mum.   "There.   See?   What a prat!"

* * * * *

It was a much less joyful group that arrived back at Number 12 Grimmauld Place later that afternoon.   Winky answered the door.

"Hello, Winky," Harry said, fighting his bad mood so he could welcome her kindly.   "How are you?"

"Winky isn’t quite certain, Master," the house elf said nervously.

"Why is that?" Harry said, leading her into the living room and dropping his packages on the couch.   He sighed and tried to clear his mind of the messy situation the article in the paper was causing, so he could deal with Winky and her problems.   The others followed him in, finding seats around the room.

"Professor Dumbledore told Winky she would be working here now, and that Harry Potter was Winky’s new master," she said.   "Is I in service again?   Or is I free?"

"You’re free, Winky.   I don’t want any slaves," Harry said, sitting down so he was on her eye level.

"But Dobby is a slave now.   Winky wants to belong to someone too!" she wailed.

"Winky, don’t you want to be free?" Harry asked gravely.

"No!   Winky has never wanted to be free.   Winky wants a home!"

"You have a home here now.   Don’t you like it here?   You can go back to Hogwarts if you’d rather be there," he replied, not certain how to respond.   "Professor Dumbledore and I thought you might enjoy working here with Dobby, but you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.   I want you to be happy."

"Winky doesn’t belong at Hogwarts!   Winky doesn’t belong anywhere!" she wailed, pulling her skirt up over her face and bawling so hard her tiny shoulders shook.

Harry glanced around at his friends.   He saw sympathy but no help there.   Even Hermione was sitting in shocked silence.   "Hermione?   Do you have any ideas?"

"No.   I’ve talked to her about how wonderful it is to be free many times.   So has Dobby.   It hasn’t helped at all," Hermione said sadly.

"Will you understand, then, if I do something you don’t believe in?" Harry asked in a quiet voice, looking at her quite seriously.   She grasped his meaning and, after a moment’s hesitation, nodded slowly.   "Thanks," he replied.   He took a deep breath, steeling himself for something he honestly did not want to do.   "Winky?   Do you want to work here?"

"No, sir."

"What do you want?"

"Winky wants to belong to somebody."

"You mean to be married to somebody?   To belong that way?"

"No, sir.   To belong, as Winky did to the Crouch household."

"To be someone’s slave."

"Yes sir.   That is a house elf’s place."

Harry sighed and was silent a few minutes.   Finally, he looked around at his friends and saw no disapproval in their eyes.   "OK, Winky.   Do you want to be my slave, and work for me along with Dobby?   You’ll work wherever I live, or wherever I tell you, either here, or at Hogwarts, or at my aunt and uncle’s place on Privet Drive in Surrey, or other places I may live, for the rest of your life.   Is that what you want?"

"You is willing to take a disgraced house elf into your household?"   Winky asked slowly, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"I don’t see you as a disgraced house elf, but yes, I’m willing to take you into my household," Harry agreed.

"YES!   Oh, YES, Master!   Winky will work hard!   Winky is a good cook!   Winky does laundry ever so well!   Winky will clean this house until it shines!"   Her face was happy for the first time that any of them had ever seen.   Her eyes gleamed with delight, her posture straightened and suddenly, she was a very pretty house elf.

"Great.   I’m glad that’s settled.   Now, I do have a few house rules," Harry said in a serious tone.

"Yes, Master.   Winky is listening.   Winky will remember."   She stared at him earnestly.

"First, you will not call me or anyone else ‘Master’ or ‘Mistress.’   You will not bow to anyone.   I will give you wages, clothes and days off — don’t start crying, Winky, the clothes won’t mean you’re not part of my household!" he exclaimed as she burst into tears.   He waited until she was calm again and then went on.   "I don’t want you wearing tea towels or pillow cases.   I want you in comfortable clothes that make you happy.   I consider you and Dobby to be my friends, not my slaves, but you both belong to my household now.   I will take good care of you.   In return, I’d like you to keep my house clean, and do whatever else house elves normally do."   He watched her take in this information and begin to understand it.   "And there’s something else.   You must keep my secrets, and the secrets of anyone I allow in this house.   This is my house, but there are meetings of a group here, and that group and what goes on here must remain secret.   Can you do that for me?"

"Of course!   It is a house elf’s duty to keep her master’s secrets!   Winky will do as Master. . ."

"Ah-ah-ah — no ‘master,’" Harry reminded her, shaking his head at her but smiling.

"What shall Winky call M. . .erm. . .sir?"

"My name is Harry Potter.   Dobby calls me that.   It works just fine.   Call everyone here by their name.   If you don’t know their names, you can call them ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ until you find out their names.   OK?"

"Yes, Harry Potter sir!   Thank you, Harry Potter sir!"   Winky was beaming.  

Harry glanced up and noticed Hermione was smiling too.   Whew, I’m glad she’s taking this situation so well.   She could’ve made my life miserable, and I never asked to have house elves in the first place!, Harry thought as he gave her a small smile in return.

"All right, Winky.   First order of business.   I want all the portraits off the walls, including the ones that are stuck to the wall with Permanent Sticking Charms, like the one of Mrs. Black.   Can you and Dobby undo that charm?"  

Winky nodded, her eyes bright.     "Oh yes, Ma. . . Harry Potter, that is a house elf charm, we knows how to undo it."

He grinned.   "That’s great!   Remove Mrs. Black’s portrait straightaway, OK?   That’s the one in the front hall that has curtains across it.   She’ll scream at you a lot, but just ignore her."

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir!   Does Harry Potter want her to be quiet?"

"Absolutely!   Can you do that?" he said in pleased surprise.

"I believe so.   There are certain charms house elves use on portraits that are to be stored so the people in the paintings don’t get upset by being in the dark.   One of those spells should take care of it.   Dobby and Winky will work on it," she promised.

"That would be brilliant!" Harry said sincerely.   "I’d like you and Dobby to make taking the portraits down your first job, other than cooking and basic cleaning.   We’re going to repaint the inside of this house and do some renovations, and hang different pictures and curtains.   There’s a portrait of a wizard named Phineas Nigellus in the room Ron and I use.   That portrait needs to be put in. . .um. . .which room?" he asked his friends, looking up at them.

"How about the formal dining room?   We don’t use it often, but he’ll be close at hand for messages if we need him," Molly suggested.

"That’s a good idea.   Thanks."   He turned back to Winky.   "OK, that’s where to put him.   The others need to be wrapped up for storage and put in the basement or attic, unless Professor Dumbledore tells you to save some others to keep on the walls.   If he says anything like that, then don’t put those paintings away.   We’ll just find some room that isn’t used much to hang them in."   He glanced at his friends.   "I don’t know about you lot, but I’m tired of all those Slytherins glaring at me."

"Too right!" Ron agreed.

Harry turned back to Winky.   "The Black Family Tree that’s upstairs?   Get that off the wall, roll it up and put it in the attic, too.   When the walls are clear, they’ll need to be cleaned so we can paint them.   That should keep you two busy for a while, right?"   Harry smiled at the house elf.

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir!   Winky and Dobby will get to work right away!"

"Fantastic!   Thank you."

Winky stood waiting for something.

"What is it, Winky?   That’s all I had to tell you," Harry said, perplexed.

"Winky is waiting to be dismissed," she said simply.

"Oh, OK.   You’re dismissed," he said with a shrug.   When she was gone, he smiled ruefully.   "I had no idea it would be so hard to manage house elves!"

"You did wonderfully, Harry.   And although you know how I feel about house elf slavery, you did Winky a kindness by taking her into your household.   I’ve never seen her so happy," Hermione said.

"Thanks," Harry replied.   "I was most worried about your reaction, honestly.   I knew what I needed to do with her and with Dobby, given Dobby’s situation, but I didn’t know how you’d react."

"Well done, mate!" Ron said, clapping Harry on the shoulder as he headed for the kitchen. "I’m off to see what kind of goodies they’ve whipped up for us!   Coming, Hermione?"  He reached for her hand and she took it, then pulled it around her shoulders.   They walked with their arms around each other to the kitchen.

"Harry, Ginny, why don’t we take these pictures to the rooms we bought them for and see how they look?" Molly said as she poked through their purchases.  

"You two go ahead," Harry said, his eyes hardening for some reason.   "I have some other things to do."

"Can I help?" Ginny said eagerly.

"No, thanks.   You and your mum can have fun decorating the house," he said, kissing her briefly on the forehead and leaving the room.

Ginny could see his shoulders slumping as he left the room.   "Something’s wrong with him," she worried aloud as he walked away.

"Yes, but I think right now he wants to be alone, or he wouldn’t have sent you off with me," Molly said wisely.   "He really didn’t want to go with us today, either.   He has something on his mind.   He probably needs time to sort it out."

Harry went into the library, closed the door behind him, and plopped down in a big leather chair with wide arms.   He pulled his feet up onto the seat, resting his chin on his upraised knees, his face growing sadder by the minute.   Before long, he’d placed his glasses on the table by his chair, and pressed his face against his knees, his body shaking with suppressed sorrow.   I can’t go back to Hogwarts, he thought.   I can’t go back to Hogwarts.   I can’t go back to Hogwarts.   He felt as though his heart were breaking in a million pieces.   His world was collapsing around him.   He could not go back to school.

Passing the library door on her way upstairs with another armload of pictures, Ginny heard a small, odd sound in the room.   She set the pictures down and knocked hesitantly on the door.  

"Who’s in there?   Are you all right?" she murmured.   When she got no answer, she timidly cracked open the door.   There with its back to her was a large leather chair.   Just past the edge of its back, she could see a shock of tousled black hair shaking with Harry’s anguish.   "Oh, baby, what’s wrong?" she cried, running to him.   She sat on the wide arm of the chair and wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head on the back of his, her long red hair trailing down his back and across his shoulder.  

He didn’t react to her presence at first, but then he glanced up at her and pulled her into his lap, not crying, but trembling all over.  

"Harry, what happened?   What’s wrong?"

"I can’t go back to school," he said in a dark, low voice.

"Why not?"

"Everybody. . .all those kids. . .they know I . . . killed their parents now.   The paper listed all of the names.   Everybody knows.   I can’t face that," he said miserably.  

She could think of nothing to say.   She held him close and stroked his hair and back, comforting him the only way she could think of.     After a while, she said, "You know, Ron’s and my names were in that article too.   They’ll be treating us the same way.   You aren’t alone in this."

"You didn’t kill anyone.   I did."

"But because of Ron and me and the others who were there, some of these kids’ parents are in Azkaban.   They’ll be furious with us for that, too," Ginny said, getting a bit tense about returning to Hogwarts herself.   She took a deep, steadying breath.   "But you know what?   Dumbledore will find some way to fix it.   He always does."

"He doesn’t see everything that goes on.   You know that."

"He sees nearly everything, and the rest we’ll tell him.   It will work out.   It may be a bit rough at first, but we’ll get through it," she assured him.

"Ginny?   Ginny?" Molly’s voice called in the hall.   "Where are you?"

"In here, Mum," she replied.  

Harry’s shoulders tensed up.   Ginny remembered her mum saying he wanted to be by himself.   "I’m sorry, Harry.   I guess I should leave," she said, realizing why he’d suddenly become tense.

"No, it’s OK," he muttered, straightening up and composing his face as well as he could. "Hi," he said, attempting his normal cheerful voice and failing miserably.

"Oh dear.   What’s wrong?   Or shall I just leave you alone?" Molly said uncomfortably.

"Harry says he can’t go back to Hogwarts and I just realized he’s right — Ron and I are going to have problems there too," Ginny said, growing more nervous about the situation the longer she thought about it.

"What are you talking about?"

"The paper named all three of us.   The kids at school will know their parents are in jail or dead because of us.   We have enough trouble with the Slytherins as it is.   Now it will be really dangerous for us to be at Hogwarts," Ginny said.

"Don’t you worry about it, either of you.   Albus and Minerva are already making plans for dealing with the situation.   I had an owl from them just a few minutes ago," Molly assured them.

"Really?   What did they say?" Ginny asked, her eyes lighting with hope.   Trust Dumbledore to know how to fix things!

"They said they knew the three of you, and Remus, as well, would have that very worry, and with good reason.   But Harry saved Severus Snape’s life with his vision — did you know that, Harry?   And Severus has already spoken with Professor Dumbledore about the little talk he’s going to have with the Slytherins.   He knows he has several in his house who have already become Death Eaters.   He’s going to find a way to deal with them and protect you, as well."

"But won’t that blow his cover with Voldemort, if he’s suddenly protecting Harry?" Ginny asked, confused.

"They’re working it out.   Don’t you worry about it.   That’s exactly what Albus said, as well — he said to tell you three not to worry about it, that that’s his job, and he’s doing a masterful job of it — that’s exactly what he said, too," she said with a smile.

Harry rubbed Ginny’s back comfortingly.   "Yeah," he said.   "Dumbledore can take care of things.   Let’s get this house cleaned up and decorated, OK?"   He was doing his best to act cheerful again.

"Staying busy is usually best in such situations," Molly said with an encouraging smile.   "Come on, then.   Let’s see where you want your pictures, Harry, shall we?"  

* * * * *

Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Molly, Winky and Dobby had worked hard all day on re-organizing the house, moving furniture, deciding what would be sold, what would go into storage, and what could be left to deal with another time.   Phineas Nigellus and the other portraits in the bedrooms had all been removed, Phineas Nigellis being rehung in the dining room.   Harry didn’t like having portraits in his bedroom — it made him feel as though they were spying on him, especially Phineas Nigellis.   He thought everyone else probably felt the same way, so he had all the sleeping quarters cleared of portraits, to be replaced by posters or paintings of animals or country scenes — anything that couldn’t talk back to the occupants.   By tea time, everyone was tired but happy with the progress they’d made.   Dinner was fun, with Remus and Tonks joining them.   The kitchen was full of the smell of good food and the sound of laughter and friendly banter.

"I’m knackered," Ron said, stretching and yawning hugely.   "I’m off to bed.   Good night, all."

"Me, too," Harry and Ginny said at the same time, then laughed.   Hermione stood up when they did, saying she still had some studying to do before bed.

After everyone exchanged good nights and Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione had worked out a schedule of who got the shower first, since they’d become rather dirty working in the house, they all headed upstairs.   After a while, Harry, who’d insisted on being last one to shower, came into his and Ron’s room and plopped on his bed.  

"All right there, Harry?" Ron said with a grin as Harry threw back his covers, climbed into bed and settled down to sleep.

"Yeah.  Thanks for the help, Ron.   The house is going to look so much better soon," he said.   A jaw-cracking yawn escaped him.   "Good night."

"Yeah," Ron said, a chuckle in his voice for some reason as he settled into bed.   "Good night."

Harry was soon sound asleep.   He was fighting his way through bad dreams about being back at Hogwarts and being called a murderer over and over when something started tickling his nose.   He brushed at it, thinking there must be a moth in the room.   "G’way," he muttered grumpily, keeping his eyes closed and staying asleep as well as possible while rubbing his itchy nose.   He relaxed again, his breathing deepening, his muscles slack and comfortable as he searched for a pleasant dream.   There was that maddening itch on his nose again.   "Stupid moth.   G’way!" he grumbled, rubbing at his nose again.   He turned over on his side, hoping his nose being buried in the pillow would discourage the annoying insect.   Nope.   Now it was after his ear.   With the swiftness of his Seeker’s skills, he grabbed at the moth, only to discover a giggling girl attached to it.   Opening his eyes a crack, he saw Ginny sitting on the edge of his bed, tickling him with a strand of her long hair.  

"Ginny!   What are you doing here?" he asked in panicked confusion, rolling onto his back and rubbing his eyes to make certain he was actually awake now.

She just giggled, tickling his nose with her hair, then rubbing the ends of that glossy red strand tantalizingly all over his face, around and in his ear and then down his neck, tracing the strong V at his collarbone, then circling his Adam’s apple as she trailed her ticklish lock back up the other side of his neck to his other ear.

As she was doing these very enticing things to him, Harry glanced over at Ron’s bed.   "Where’s Ron?"

"Waking Hermione up in some similar fashion, I imagine," she said, giggling again.

"Huh?"   Harry half sat up, propping himself up on one elbow and studying her face.   "What’s going on?"

"You, Mr. Potter, are the victim, erm, I mean ‘lucky recipient,’ of a Weasley Plot," she said, a huge grin on her face.

"A what?"   Harry was feeling stupider by the minute.

"A Weasley Plot.  You should feel honoured.   We don’t often spring Weasley Plots on non-family members, and certainly not plots as nice as this one is."

He lay back down, throwing his arm over his eyes.   "I’m dreaming, that’s what it is.   It’s just a weird dream. Yeah," he said, rolling back onto his side.   "Nice dream, but a bit odd.   Hmm," he sighed contentedly as he snuggled back into his pillow trying to get back to sleep.   "I wouldn’t mind having more like it."

"It’s no dream, Potter," Ginny teased, poking him in the ribs.   "Wake up!"

Harry turned onto his back and squinted up at her.   "Password?"

"Cat in jumper.   It’s really me."

"So what’s this plot, then?" he asked, a bemused smile on his face.   The moonlight through the window haloed her in red-gold flame.   She looked even more beautiful than usual.

"I’ve brought you a present," she teased, trying in vain to stifle her giggles.

"But it’s not my birthday or anything," he said cautiously.   He was finally awake enough to realize what was going on, but that didn’t mean he believed it was really happening.   It had to be a dream.   These things just didn’t happen in real life.   Did they?

"That’s OK.   It’s something you need, I think.   I certainly hope you like it."   She seemed to be getting nervous now.

"What is it?"

She hesitated, then blushed and said, "You have to unwrap it."   She handed him the end of the belt of her tatty old dressing gown.   "Pull here."

A dazed smile spread across Harry’s face.   "You’re not. . .you don’t mean. . .you. . ."

"Don’t you ever follow directions, Potter?" she said in a dead-on impression of Snape.

A loud snort of laughter escaped Harry before he could stifle the sound.   He looked at the door nervously.

"Don’t worry — I’ve put a Colloportus charm on the door and a Silencio on the room."

Harry looked at her in amazement.   "You’re serious, aren’t you?"

"Yes."   She sat nervously, almost humbly before him, waiting for him to make the next move.   She’d made a brave offer.   Now it was up to him to make a choice.

He tugged gently on the belt of her dressing gown and it fell open, revealing a Ginny he’d seen before only once — when Parvati showed up Polyjuiced to look like her.   "Oh, baby.   Are you certain?" he breathed.   His heart was hammering in his chest.   It seemed as if all the air had gone out of the room — it was hard to breathe.   Harry felt his face flame in a blush and his body quiver with nerves — and an unbelievable excitement.

"Yes.   And I’m ready.   I told you, I have been for months.   I took that potion back in October, so I’m fine until next October," she said seriously.   She trembled a little, glancing shyly at Harry.   "Um. . .do you like your present?"

Harry swallowed, his throat suddenly dry as a desert.   "Do I like it?" he breathed, pulling her down into his arms on top of him.   Her hair spilled around them in a glorious red curtain, the moonlight filtering through it making its gossamer strands glow with a soft inner fire.   "I love it!   I love you."   He kissed her, feeling her sigh in relief and pleasure as his hands glided deliciously over her skin, sliding the dressing gown off her shoulders and tossing it on the floor.   "Lumos," he muttered, and his wand on the bedside table lit softly.

"Why’d you do that?" she asked.

"I want to see you.   Do you mind?" he asked, gazing seriously into her eyes.

"No.   I want to see you too," she said, smiling as she slid her hands under the t-shirt he’d worn to bed and ran her hands over his muscular chest.   "You’re beautiful."

"I’m a bloke.   I can’t be beautiful," he protested mildly, nipping her neck playfully.

"You are, though.   Inside and out.   You’re gorgeous.   And I love you."

"You’re the one who’s gorgeous.   Look at you," he said admiringly, laying her beside him and sitting up to study her from top to bottom.   "Wait a second," he said suddenly.

She gasped, startled at his sudden change in attitude.   "What?"

"Turn over.   I have to see if it’s real," he said earnestly.   She gave him an odd look, but obediently rolled over onto her stomach.   He sighed in delight.   "It is real," he chuckled, then leaned down to kiss the tiny heart-shaped strawberry birthmark on the back of her hip just below her narrow waist.   "Mmmm, I knew it would taste good," he murmured as he savoured the pretty little mark.  

Ginny giggled.   "That tickles."

"Serves you right for tickling me awake," he replied, rolling her onto her back and kissing her soundly.

"You have too many clothes on," she murmured between kisses as she started tugging at his t-shirt.

"That’s easy enough to fix," he breathed as he kissed her more deeply.   Her hands ran up his back, shoving the shirt out of the way, leaving tremors of pleasure on his skin.   "Oh, sweetheart," he sighed.   "I do love you so."   He sat up and pulled the shirt off the rest of the way, then slid off his boxers self-consciously.   He shivered a bit, nervous, but excited; scared, but filled with soaring courage.   She loved him.   She was giving him the best gift she could possibly give.   He slowly smoothed her long hair off of her shoulders, exposing her lustrous white breasts to the soft glow of the wandlight.   He’d touched their bare skin before, even kissed them through her clothes, but never seen them completely uncovered except when Parvati was posing as Ginny.   There had never been the chance for such intimacy.   He hesitantly touched the edge of her breast, cupping it as if weighing it, sliding his hand around to feel the contours.   He watched the soft mound move in response to the gentle examination of his hand.   As his hand continued to explore her breast, he sat quietly studying her in wonder for a while, then felt her eyes on him doing the same thing.   "Do I pass inspection?" he asked nervously.

She smiled and nodded, raising her arms to pull him to her.   The feeling of her skin against his was more delicious than anything he’d ever imagined.   His hands and mouth took on a life of their own, exploring the lovely body next to his.  

"I love you too," she whispered as she nibbled the shell of his ear and licked his neck while her hands slid down to investigate the shape of his well-muscled bum.  

* * * * *

Across the hall, Ron was still rocking from foot to foot nervously.   Yeah, he was sure Harry would welcome Ginny to his bed, but would Hermione welcome him?   He’d never been so scared in his whole life, and that included facing all those Death Eaters in France.   A board creaked under his foot as he wavered in indecision.   He couldn’t go back.   He had nowhere to go but the loo if he left here.   What should he do?

"Mmm," Hermione murmured in her sleep, moving around sensuously.   She giggled a bit, "Yes, right there, sweetheart.   Mmmm."  

Ron’s eyes widened in surprise.   She was having an interesting dream, from the sound of it.   Maybe that would be a help to him.   He leaned over her as she lay sleeping, and blew gently in her ear.   Her face furrowed a bit as the feeling bothered her, but she soon relaxed.   He blew in her ear again, then slid her hair away from her neck and kissed her there, just under her ear, where he knew she liked it.   She rolled over on her back and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down into the bed with her.

"It’s about time you made up your mind," she chuckled just before lacing her fingers in his hair and kissing him seriously.

"You were awake?   You were pretending?" he said, surprised, when she let him up for air.

Hermione just giggled.   "You can’t sneak up on me, Ronnie.   Your feet go ‘clomp clomp’ even when you tiptoe in slippers."   She glanced across the room.   "Where’s Ginny?"

"Doing something similar with Harry," he replied as he nuzzled her neck, making her gasp with pleasure.   "Erm, by the way?   You have taken that potion, haven’t you?   Ginny said you had."

"Yes, ages ago.   You boys are so slow," she said with a grin, pulling him down to kiss her again.   Her hands slid inside his dressing gown and both of them gasped as she hit bare skin.   "Are you naked under there?"

"I thought that was how you were supposed to dress for such things," he said, laughing and tossing his dressing gown aside.   He was blushing all over his body, but he didn’t care.   She was welcoming him to her bed.   Life just couldn’t get much sweeter, could it?

"Hush!   You’ll get us caught!" she warned.

"Nah, I Colloportused the door and Silencioed the room," he replied, his hands busily undoing the buttons of her pyjama top.

"Mmmmm.  Sounds like you planned this out rather carefully," she said, shivering with the delicious sensations he was arousing.

"Um-hmm.  Now stop talking and kiss me," he said, sliding her top off her shoulders and revelling in the feeling of her skin against his.   "By the way, Hermione?"

"I thought you said to stop talking," she protested with a laugh.

"I just wanted to say. . .I love you, baby."

"Oh, Ron!   I love you, too!" she cried, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him to her.   They kissed deeply, breathing each others breath, their hands starting to explore.   They stopped and giggled when they realized Ron was just too tall for Hermione’s bed.   She grabbed her wand and enlarged the bed with a simple spell.   Hermione had to keep reminding Ron that she was happy when she moaned "that way."   He kept thinking he was hurting her.   Ron finally got over being nervous and began enjoying himself, much to their mutual delight.

* * * * *

Harry was awakened by the chiming of Ginny’s watch.   "Whassat?" he said blearily.   There was a warm, comfortable weight nestled against his side and partly spread over his body.   His nose was tickled by her hair when he turned his head to the side.   "Sweetheart?   Your watch is going off."   He slid his hand down her arm and lifted her hand from his flat belly, kissing her palm tenderly.   His other hand relished the feel of the bare skin of her back and the side of her breast, gliding over the satiny surfaces with tremendous pleasure, her hair lying across his arm like a warm silken shawl.

"Mmmm?"

"Your watch.   Did you set an alarm?"   He kissed her palm again, then nibbled on her fingers, finally biting just hard enough to wake her up a bit more.

"That felt quite nice until you bit me," she grumbled, chewing on his shoulder a bit in retaliation, but stroking his chest and arm lovingly at the same time.

"The alarm?"

"Oh, yeah.   Ron and I need to swap rooms before the house elves get up," she said sleepily, pushing herself up and sitting on the side of bed, looking around for her dressing gown on the floor.  

He lay there watching her, the wandlight casting soft glowing highlights across the contours of her body.   He leaned over and kissed her bum as she bent to retrieve her dressing gown.   She giggled.  

"What was that for?" she asked as she turned toward him.

"It just needed to be done," he replied, a goofy grin on his face.

"You look like that in the morning and everyone will know," she teased.

"And the same to you, m’lady."   He grew more serious.   "How are we going to hide this?   And how are we going to manage this when we get back to Hogwarts?"

"We’ll think of something, sweetheart," she assured him.

"By the way," he said as she did up her robe.   "How did you know . . .?"

"Teen Witch Weekly," she said with a laugh.   "They have a section in each issue on ‘How to Get What You Want’ and ‘How to Please Your Wizard’ and things like that.   But you can’t see that section unless you’re a certain age and have the code.   Parvati showed them to me and gave me the code so I could read them."

"As much grief as that stupid rag has caused me," Harry mused, "I never thought I’d find anything about it to appreciate."   He laughed.   "I guess I’ll have to revise my opinion now."

Ginny smiled at him, her eyes soft and dreamy.   "You look so cute with your hair standing up all over."

"That’s pretty much normal for me, though, isn’t it?" he said with a chuckle.

"And I’ve always thought you were as cute as a guy could be."   She studied his face for a long moment.   "And I was right.   Cute and gorgeous and sexy, that’s you."

"The feeling’s mutual," he said with a smile, his eyes following the curves of her body, knowing now how beautiful she was underneath her tatty dressing gown, even more beautiful than he’d dreamed.

"Good night, sweetie. Sleep well," she said, leaning down to kiss him.

"You too, baby. I love you."

"I love you, too," she said, sliding her fingers through his hair and down his cheek, then taking the spells off the room and leaving.

In the hall, Ron was waiting nervously.   "I was worried.   You’re late coming out," he began.

"Sorry," she said, not looking the least bit repentant.   "How did it go with Hermione?   Everything OK?"

Ron blushed crimson but grinned widely.   "Brilliant, that’s all.   Simply brilliant!   You?"

"Whatever is the very best there possibly could be — it wouldn’t hold a candle to this," she said, her eyes dreamy.   "Thanks for helping, Ron."

"Thank you!   You come up with the best Weasley Plots," he murmured, giving her a quick squeeze around the shoulders and kissing her on top of her head. "You’re such a brilliant little witch.   Good night."

She chuckled at his comment.   "’Night."

Each went into their rooms.   Harry was still awake, having just put his t-shirt and boxers back on.   "Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, mate."

"Yeah."

"Did Hermione. . .um. . .was it. . .um," Harry began uncertainly.   "Never mind."

"She was glad to see me.   It was brilliant," Ron said, a huge grin on his face as he pulled on his pyjamas and settled into bed.   "You?"

"Yeah.   Brilliant."   Harry sighed happily as he lay back, his hands behind his head, remembering the night’s events.

Hermione was sitting up when Ginny entered the room.   "Well?"

"Well what?" Ginny replied, confused.

"How was it?"

"How was it for you?" Ginny countered with a grin.

"Amazing.   Brilliant.   Wonderful," Hermione said, smiling so hard she was glowing.

"Yeah, same here," Ginny agreed.

"Ginny — thanks.   I mean that.   What a fantastic plan," Hermione said earnestly.

"No problem.   We definitely will have to do this again!" Ginny giggled, then fell over in her bed laughing.   When she settled down, she got up and pulled on her pyjamas then crawled into bed, yawning hugely.   "What an excellent way to lose sleep," she murmured.

"Right," Hermione agreed with a chuckle.

* * * * *

The next morning, the four teenagers met in the hall and went downstairs in pairs, Ron and Hermione, Harry and Ginny.   They did their best not to look too goofy, which resulted in them playing like little children, poking each other and giggling a lot.   The adults noticed the change in atmosphere but decided to take it at face value — the kids had found some way to laugh in the face of all the problems waiting for them at Hogwarts.  

Let them have their fun, Molly thought, smiling at their bright, happy faces.   They have enough trouble ahead, they should enjoy themselves while they can.

Dobby and Winky had created a breakfast worthy of Hogwarts, with a huge variety of food in large quantities.   Harry tipped some bacon onto his plate, then reached for the scrambled eggs at the same time Ginny was reaching for the toast.   Their arms brushed and they both blushed hugely, smiling and saying "Sorry" in the same breath.   Ron and Hermione had a similar incident over the sausage platter.   Molly, Arthur and Remus looked on in amusement as the kids exchanged blushing glances and sudden smiles.

"Why are you four so happy this morning?" Molly asked innocently.   "It’s a pleasure to see all of you smiling so much."

"Erm. . ." Ron began, then looked to Hermione, Harry and Ginny for help.

"Well. . .," Hermione said,   "um, we uh. . ."

Harry took a deep breath. "We decided not to let all this stuff mess up our lives," he said brightly.   "Life is too short not to enjoy yourself as much as you can, right?"   He looked around for support.   His three schoolmates and Remus all nodded, Remus with a knowing twinkle in his eye.   "So. . .we made a pact.   We’re going to have as much fun as we can and if we’re the only friends we have, that’s OK.   We’ll be fine."   He blew his breath out sharply, hoping he’d settled things in the adults’ minds.   Remus caught his eye and winked, and Harry gulped, doing his best to stop the blush he could feel starting to flare on his face.

"I think that’s a grand idea," Molly said serenely, smiling at Winky as she poured tea in Molly’s cup.   "Winky, Dobby, this is a wonderful breakfast!"

All the others chorused their agreement.   Winky ducked her head in embarrassment, mumbling her thanks as she curtsied.

Harry smiled.   "Winky, didn’t I say no bowing?"

"Winky did not bow, Harry Potter, sir.   She curtsied," the elf said with great dignity.

Harry stifled a laugh.   "As long as there are no bows involved."

"No, Harry Potter, sir, no bows!" she said brightly.

The rest of the day was spent by Molly, Dobby and Winky continuing the cleaning and rearranging of the house, while the four students sat in the library, their noses buried in books, catching up on studying they should have done over the holiday, but hadn’t had time to get to.   Despite having to dig through many huge books and write long essays with quills and ink bottles, each couple managed to find a way to hold hands, rub knees, tickle each other’s ankles with their toes, and otherwise distract each other.   Despite all the distractions, when they finally stopped working in order to eat their evening meal and pack for the trip back to school the next day, all their homework was done, which amazed all four of them.   By the time everyone gathered for the evening meal, Mrs. Black’s portrait and the Black Family Tree were off the walls and stored, as were the majority of the other portraits in the house, and the massive job of scrubbing the walls clean was well in hand.

"Mrs. Weasley, Dobby, Winky, the house looks so much better.   Thank you!" Harry said with a smile as the elves set dinner on the table, Molly following them around trying to help.   She simply wasn’t used to having other people do the work in the kitchen.

"We will have the walls painted and the curtains made and hung very soon, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said with a huge smile.   "It makes Dobby very happy to serve Harry Potter, sir.   What else can Dobby do for Harry Potter and his friends?"

"I don’t know right now, Dobby," Harry replied.   "This meal looks fantastic.   I don’t know how you managed it with all the work you were doing in the house."

"House elves is very efficient, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said as he finished serving the meal.   As he backed away, he almost bowed, but stopped himself just in time.  

Harry grinned at him.   "Well done, Dobby."

* * * * *

Harry wandered back into the library, running his fingers over the backs of the books there, then turned and surveyed the room.   They hadn’t done much with it beyond basic cleaning since the Order had started using the house, but Harry found it to be a very comfortable room.   Hermione was seated in a corner reading some book that had caught her eye, Ron snoozing in the chair beside her.   Harry sat down at the library table in a straight wooden chair, his chin in his hand as he considered how they were going to brighten this room.  

Ginny came bounding in, full of energy as usual, and, pushing him back from the table, sat on his lap, her legs straddling his.   "Got your conk!" she said as her tongue flicked out and barely dampened the tip of his nose.

"And so you do," he chuckled as he tightened his arms around her and nuzzled her nose in return.   "You’re silly."

"Last chance to be silly before going back to school," she said brightly.   "What shall we do that’s absolutely, utterly silly?"

"I have no idea.   Silly seems to be your department," he said, resting his hands on her slim waist and smiling into her dancing brown eyes.

"Ron, I. . ." Molly said as she came into the room.   "Ginevra Weasley!   What do you think you’re doing?" she snapped.

"Nothing," Ginny said innocently.

"Get off him this instant," her mother ordered.

"Why?   I sit on his lap all the time," Ginny protested.   Seeing the steely glint in her mother’s eye, she got off Harry’s lap and stood next to him, her hand on his shoulder, his still on her waist.

"Ladies do not straddle men’s laps," Molly barked.   "Come with me."   She turned on her heel and stormed out of the library, Ginny following slowly behind her.   "Hurry up!" her mother commanded.  

Ginny turned and looked nervously at her friends and brother one last time before quietly closing the door.

"She’s in for it now," Ron said ominously.

"D’you suppose your mum. . ." Hermione said, her eyes wide with horror.

"Found out about last night?" Ron finished for her.   "Nah.   If she had, she would have said something earlier.   She just blew up because of the way Ginny was sitting on Harry’s lap."   He looked at Harry’s face, which was beet red.   "You OK, mate?"

"Yeah.   I hate it that she has to deal with that alone," he said, gazing at the closed door.

"Ginny’s tough.   She’ll be OK," Ron said bracingly.

"Yeah, but will ‘we’ be OK?" Harry muttered uneasily.

* * * * *

"I never thought I’d see the day my daughter was acting like a brazen hussy!" Molly snarled when she got Ginny alone in the sitting room.   "What were you thinking?"

"I was just playing with Harry," Ginny said quietly.   "You’ve seen me sit on his lap a lot."

"I’ve never seen you straddle him before.   That’s a compromising position, that is," Molly growled.   "You mustn’t get him all excited that way."

"He wasn’t excited," Ginny replied.   "He was just laughing because . . ."

Molly was fighting to control her temper.   "I can see I didn’t explain things to you thoroughly enough, my girl," she said.   "Sit down."

"What things?"

"About men and women," Molly said uneasily.   She sat down facing her daughter, then spent several minutes studying her hands as she gathered her thoughts.   "Your dad said he had a talk with Harry."

"Yes.   Harry told me about it."

"He said Harry and your brother compared notes on the ‘little wizards’ talk’ Remus and Sirius had with him."   Ginny nodded.   "Do you remember the ‘little witches’ talk’ I had with you?"   Ginny nodded again.   "Did you understand everything we discussed?"   Another nod.   "Then why would you put yourself in such a compromising position?"

"I didn’t think . . ."

"That’s right, you didn’t think," Molly snapped.  

"I’m sorry, Mum," Ginny said desperately.   "I wasn’t trying to upset Harry.   Or you."

"What you were doing was arousing Harry.   You mustn’t do that," her mother warned seriously.   "There are consequences to such things, you know."

Ginny sighed.   "Mum, I work in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey whenever I can.   I’ve heard her counsel girls about such things, and talked to her about it myself.   I know how to take care of myself."

"You do, do you?   And how is that?" Molly demanded.

Ginny looked her mother in the eye.   "Number one, abstinence.   Number two, the Anti-Fertility Potion."

"The what?"

"The Anti-Fertility Potion.   Haven’t you heard of it?"

Molly shook her head.   "Never.   What is it?"

"You take it once a year and it keeps you from having babies.   It also protects you from sexually transmitted diseases," Ginny explained.

"How do you know about this?" Molly asked suspiciously.

"I told you!   I work with Madam Pomfrey a lot.   I’ve heard her counsel girls, and I’ve asked her questions myself."

"There really is a potion that keeps you from getting pregnant?" Molly asked a bit wistfully.

"Yes.   I can’t believe you hadn’t heard about it.   It’s been around for ages, apparently."

"If I’d known. . ." Molly murmured.

"You didn’t really want seven children, then?" Ginny asked in surprise.

Molly smiled fondly at her.   "I love each and every one of you.   I wouldn’t send any of you back. . .well, at times I wouldn’t mind sending Percy back."   She sighed.   "He was such a lovely boy, but he’s turned into a right prat as a man."

Ginny smiled.   "Yeah.   But six out of seven isn’t a bad average, is it?"

"No, not at all."   She sat and studied her daughter’s face for several long moments.   Ginny was so bright, so beautiful, so level-headed and had such a sunny disposition.   She had been a joy to rear and was a pleasure to be around now as a young woman.   She’d always been a responsible child.   Even when she played tricks worthy of the twins, she’d made certain that nobody was really hurt by them, which was a lot more than you could say about the twins and their pranks.  

"There are things a woman can do that drives a man mad, makes it impossible for him to. . .to maintain his control," Molly said seriously.   "Sitting on his lap that way is one of them."

"I’ll be more careful in the future, Mum," Ginny replied, equally serious.

"It’s not fair to lead a man on, make him think you’re interested in having sexual relations with him when you’re not.   There are some forms of play that are just not appropriate.   Do you understand me?"   Ginny nodded, her eyes on her mother’s.   "You mustn’t lead him on, letting him think you’re offering things you’re not."

"I know."

Molly sighed, accepting the fact that she was going to have to trust her daughter to make wise choices since she was away from home so many months of the year.  

"I just want you to be safe.   We had all of our babies during the last war, and it wasn’t the best idea we ever had, but there you lot were, just popping out of me without even asking!" she said with a laugh, throwing her hands in the air.   Her expression grew serious again.   "I don’t want you to have a baby during the war, or during school, or before you’ve been married over a year or two," she told her daughter, her heart in her eyes.   "Once you have children, your time is no longer your own.   Once you get married, you should have a few years together first to build your marriage before the babies start popping out.   That’s important, Ginny.   You’ll regret that lost time if you start having babies too soon."

"Do you regret it, Mum?" Ginny asked quietly, knowing that Bill had been born just a year and a half after her parents had married.

"No, I don’t regret it, but I wish your father and I had been allowed more time alone.   Still, with you and Ron nearly grown, we’ll be alone again soon."   She sighed and looked a bit sad.

"You won’t be lonely, though, Mum.   We’ll all come and see you loads," Ginny assured her.

"Oh, I know you will, dear," Molly said, smoothing her daughter’s fiery red hair away from her face.   "Are you and Harry serious, then?"

"I think so," Ginny said, her face glowing with pleasure before she could stifle it.

"Just remember how young you both are.   It could be a first love, you know," Molly cautioned her.

"I’ll remember.   But Mum, I’ve had loads of boyfriends.   None of them made me feel the way Harry does."   She was reluctant to tell her mother they’d already declared their love for each other.   That was still too private to share with anyone.

"You make him happy, and he certainly deserves that.   And anyone can see that he makes you happy as well.   Just be careful, all right?"

"We will," Ginny promised.

Molly hesitated.   There was still one more issue to address, and it was a delicate one.   "Ginny. . .your body is your own.   You mustn’t give it away lightly.   The first time should be special, and with a very special man.   Promise me you’ll be careful in your choices, all right?"

"I promise," Ginny said sincerely, knowing in her heart that she’d made the right choice.

* * * * *

"What happened?" Ron asked as soon as Ginny rejoined them in the library.

"She had the ‘little witches’ talk’ with me," Ginny said, blushing as she sat down determinedly next to Harry rather than on his lap.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said.   "What did you say?"

"We talked it through.   Turns out she didn’t know there was an Anti-Fertility Potion.   I suppose if she’d known about it, there might be fewer Weasleys," she said with a shrug, "although she did say the only one she’s ever really wanted to send back was Percy."   She smiled and snuggled next to Harry.   "She said I was tormenting you, sitting on you that way.   Were you tormented, Harry?"

"If you’d wiggled there much longer, yeah, I would’ve been," he admitted with a grin.

"I honestly didn’t think it would be a problem, but I won’t do that again," she said solemnly.   Then a wicked gleam appeared in her eye as she continued, "at least when we might get caught!"   She and her friends all blushed and laughed at her cheek.

* * * * *

After the house quieted, Ron and Ginny switched rooms as they had the night before.   A Colloportus and Silencio later, each room was filled with quiet laughter, sighs and moans of pleasure.  

"You make me so happy," Harry murmured, holding Ginny close.   "I wish we never had to leave this room."

"Mmm, me too," she sighed happily.   "Harry?"

"Mmm?"

"Take your beard off for me?"

"I thought you liked it?" he teased, already starting to remove it.

"I love it, but it tickles and scratches.   Sometimes that’s good!   Sometimes I’d rather it wasn’t doing that," she said apologetically.

"You tell me when you want it back, and it’s there," he said good-naturedly.   "How’s this?" he murmured, rolling her onto her back and kissing her soundly, then trailing kisses down her neck.

"Oh, much better," she sighed.   She giggled as Harry rolled her onto her stomach and planted soft, warm kisses all down her spine, ending with a loving examination of her heart-shaped birthmark.   She turned over and pulled him to her, whispering "I love you, I love you, I love you" as they revelled in the joy of being alive and in love.

* * * * *

Tired but very happy, the four students set off the next morning for Hogwarts via Portkey.   The boys and Hermione could have Apparated, but they didn’t want to leave Ginny behind.   As they walked through the dragon-guarded gates to Hogwarts, the boys looked over the heads of their girlfriends and both broke into huge grins.

"I have to say, mate, this has been the worst and the best holiday ever," Ron mused, tightening his arm around Hermione’s shoulders and kissing the top of her curly head.

"Yeah, that about sums it up," Harry said with a laugh, pulling a strand of Ginny’s hair up onto his upper lip.   "Do you like my moustache, sweetie?" he teased.

"I like your black pirate’s beard better," she said with a smile, pulling another lock of her hair up to his chin to create a goatee.   "Hmm.   Red’s not your colour."

"Yes, it is!" Harry protested.   "I’m quite fond of redheads!"

"And it’s a good thing, too!" she said playfully.

Suddenly they passed a turn in the lane and there was Hogwarts spread out before them.   Harry stopped, his face suddenly ashen.

"What is it?" Ginny asked.   "Are you all right?"

"Erm. . .," was all Harry could say.  

"Still worried about . . .?" she murmured.

"Uh. . .yeah."

"We’ll take care of each other," Ron said stoutly.   "What you said yesterday was true, mate.   We’ve got each other and we can get along fine without anyone else."

Harry gulped.   "Yeah."   He took a deep breath and started moving again.   One step at a time, Potter, he told himself.  

Soon, the marble steps loomed before them.   The four of them walked up the steps abreast, the couples holding tightly to each other.   Hermione was the only one not facing condemnation from a lot of the students, since she hadn’t been with them.   Ron suddenly seemed to realize that.

"Um, ‘Mione?"

"Yes?"

"If things get ugly — you weren’t involved, you don’t have to. . ."

She stopped, pulled away from him and turned to face him, her face livid.   "If I had been allowed to go along, I would’ve fought right alongside you," she said sternly.   "I’m standing with you now.   Don’t you dare try to push me away."

Ron looked abashed for a moment, then a grin split his face and he pulled her to him, kissing her quite thoroughly.   "Thanks, luv.   You’re my girl."

"Don’t you forget it, either!" she said, her voice serious but laughter in her eyes.

"Hey, Harry," Ron said over her head.   "We’re safe now."

"Yeah?" Harry replied, his eyebrows raised in amusement.

"Yeah.   Nobody wants to mess with my ‘Mione.   She knows more hexes than anybody," Ron said proudly, rocking her in his arms.

When they walked into the Entrance Hall, they found it full of students who had arrived earlier since they had to ride the Hogwarts Express.   A shout rang out — "They’re back!   Harry’s back!" and students thronged around them, excitedly asking questions about their adventures.   This was not the welcome Harry had expected, nor was it one he wanted.   Ginny could feel the tension in his body.   Ron was doing fine — he loved being the centre of this kind of attention.   Harry honestly did not enjoy such interest and was getting more uncomfortable by the second.

"Tell Ron we’re going up to the Common Room," Ginny whispered to Hermione, then turned to Harry and said loudly enough for many of the enthusiastic crowd to hear, "Can we go upstairs?   I have a headache."

Harry bent over her solicitously.   "Are you all right?"   Then he saw her wink.   "Oh.   Yeah.   Come on, then, let’s get you some headache potion," he said, excusing the two of them, shaking hands and accepting pats on the back and congratulations as he made a path through the crowd, pulling Ginny by the hand along behind him.   "See you later, guys!" Harry called to Ron and Hermione.   When the crowd was well behind them, Ginny giggled.   Harry stopped and turned her to face him.   "You are quite the little actress, aren’t you?"

"It worked, didn’t it?" she said, acting quite pleased with herself.

"Yes, it did.   Thanks!" he said sincerely, lifting her in his arms and kissing her soundly before setting her back on her feet.  

Ginny’s ruse in the Entrance Hall, combined with Ron’s pleasure in story-telling, made the friends’ transition back into the school much easier than anyone expected.  

Dumbledore announced at the first evening’s dinner that Harry, Ron and Ginny were not to be bothered in the halls, classrooms, school grounds or anywhere else to tell their story.   It had been written up in the paper and answering questions would just make them relive it.   He also would not tolerate anyone seeking vengeance of any kind on them or Professor Lupin.   Such acts would result in instant expulsion and a possible stay in Azkaban.   He made it clear the boys were attacked with no provocation, and they merely defended themselves, and quite admirably.   Harry saw some burning looks cast his way from time to time, but the awful recriminations he’d expected didn’t come, which was a huge relief to him.

* * * * *

In the first D.A. meeting after the holiday, the group was obviously bursting with questions, but doing their best to abide by Dumbledore’s edict.   Harry tried to teach them some new spells, but they were simply too distracted.   He finally gave up.  

"All right, you lot.   Your minds are not on your work.   Where are they?" he asked after getting the attention of both groups.

"We’re not allowed to say," piped up Colin Creevey.

"So it’s about our battle in France, is it?" Harry said with a sigh.

"Yeah," Colin replied.   "I mean, we’re here learning how to do this stuff, and you’ve just been in a battle where you did use this stuff and we want to know what worked, how it worked, and all that!"

Harry looked at Ron, then at Ginny.   He saw agreement in their eyes.   "All right.   Sit down, get comfortable.   What do you want to know?   Raise your hands and wait to be called on so it isn’t mayhem in here, OK?"   Dozens of hands flew up in the air.

"Hermione, would you get Professor Lupin?" Harry asked.   "He was there.   He may as well handle some of these questions."   She took off at a run to find Remus.   They had an unspoken agreement to not use Adferos at Hogwarts unless absolutely necessary.   The fewer people who saw the silvery spells flying between them, the better.

"Colin, you started this.   What’s your question?" Harry asked.

"Can you tell us which spells worked and which didn’t?"

Harry looked at Ron and Ginny.   "All of them worked for me.   Ron?   Ginny?"

"Yeah.   I used a lot of different spells, and they all worked.   Some had more effect than others, but a lot depended on how well-aimed the spell was," Ron replied.

"Same here," Ginny said.

Harry called on Ernie McMillian.   "Ron, did you use any of the battle plans we’ve been working on?   If so, how did they work?"

"That’s an excellent question, Ernie," Ron said with satisfaction.   "I wasn’t able to use them because I was injured before the battle and got to it late.   And there were so few of us against a much larger force, there was no way to divide into squads or anything, even if there had been time.   There was absolutely no organization to the battle.   Everyone was just fighting one to one, or three to one, or five to one or whatever, surviving the best they could.   If we’d been able to use the strategies, I think the battle would have been over much sooner.   I could see places where, if I’d had a squad I could’ve sent in to sweep in from behind a group, for instance, it would’ve turned the tide much sooner.   I think the strategies will be a great help in winning battles."

"You still haven’t said which spells you used," Colin called out.

"Oh, sorry, Colin," Harry replied.   "I dunno.   Let’s see.   I used Expelliarmus, Aresto Momentum, several spells we haven’t taught you lot yet, Impedimenta, um. . .I can’t think.   Ron?   Ginny?"   Harry was trying to avoid admitting he’d used the Killing Curse and several other Dark spells.

"What good is Expelliarmus!   You make them drop their wand, big deal," snapped Terry Boot.  

Harry became very still, his face like stone.   The group saw it and held their breath.  

"Erm, Harry?" Ron began, "do you want me to. . ."

Harry shook himself a bit, as if coming out of a trance.   "No, thanks, mate.   I’ll deal with it."   He took a deep, calming breath and said, "I killed someone with it."

The gathered students gasped as one voice.   The papers said Harry had killed a lot of people, but reading it wasn’t the same as having him say it out loud, right to their faces.  

Colin raised his hand hesitantly.   "How. . .how did it kill him?"

"It was a woman, actually.   Bellatrix Lestrange.   If you cast the spell strongly enough, it doesn’t just disarm your opponent.   It can throw them back several feet, or more, depending on how strongly you cast the spell.   When I did it, the spell threw Bellatrix back against a stone wall and cracked her skull open," he said tonelessly, his face still hard.

"So you didn’t . . . mean. . .to kill her, then?" Colin said carefully.

"I had every intention of killing her.   She killed my godfather.   She tortured Neville’s parents.   She’s been sending people to kill me repeatedly this year.   I have no regrets about killing her.   She deserved to die.   I was ready to throw more spells at her, but she died with the Expelliarmus."   When he finished speaking, he sat quietly, looking down at his shoes for a while.  

No one spoke.   The room was utterly silent, as if every person there was holding his breath.   Finally, Harry lifted his head and looked around at them.   "We are at war.   I don’t know how to get that idea through to you if you haven’t got it already, but We. Are.   At. War.   They will kill you as soon as they see you, no questions asked, if they get the chance.   They shot Ginny out of the air for no reason except that they thought it would be some kind of ‘fun’ in their sick minds.   They shot at Ron and me and the hippogriff we were riding for no good reason, other than wanting to kill me.   Ron didn’t need to be hurt, it was me they were after.   But they did their best to kill him anyway.   They torture and kill Muggles for sport.   They’ll be doing that to wizard families before long, the way things are going — unless we stop them."   He stopped and studied their faces a moment before going on.  

"I’m not proud of a lot of things I did that day.   I am glad I killed Bellatrix Lestrange.   She needed to die.   She was evil through and through.   Voldemort is far worse than she was.   There are many other Death Eaters who are as bad as she was.   We have to be ready.   We have to be determined.   We have to kill them before they kill us if it comes to that.   You can’t say, ‘Oh, I don’t want to kill anyone.’   I used to say that.   Sometimes killing your enemy is the only way to survive."   He was panting and angry by the time he finished speaking.   He glared around at them, then dropped his eyes, studying his fingers picking at the laces on his trainers.   "I don’t mean to scare you," he said quietly, then lifted his head and looked at all of them seriously.   "I want to equip you, so you’ll be ready.   That’s why we’re here."  

Remus had arrived during Harry’s tirade.   He sat down next to him, clapped him gently on the back and said, "All right, Harry?"

He sighed.   "Yeah," he said darkly.   "Thanks for coming."   He sighed, rolled his shoulders a bit and shook his head as if he was a dog shaking off water.   "OK.   More questions?   I’ll try not to sound off like that again.   You have to understand, this just happened recently and we’re still trying to . . . I don’t know. . .understand it all, I guess."

The listening group breathed a bit easier, seeing Harry trying to be helpful and get past his anger.   More hands were raised, more questions asked.   Remus, Ron and Ginny took as many of them as they could.   Finally, their hour was up and Harry dismissed the group.

"Wait," Neville said as the group started to get up.

"What is it, Neville?" Harry said, confused.

Quiet Neville, who was always helpful but never deliberately put himself in a position where he had to speak in front of a group, stood and faced the gathering.   He wrung his hands nervously, then straightened his spine, a determined look on his face.  

"Harry said Bellatrix Lestrange tortured my parents.   Most of you know I was raised by my gran.   My parents were. . ." he gulped, then went on determinedly, "tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange not long after Harry defeated V-V-Voldemort the first time."   He looked from face to face in the crowd.   "I don’t know how many of you have been affected by the Death Eaters or V-Voldemort, but I have to spend every holiday in St. Mungo’s visiting parents who don’t really know who I am.   Yes, Harry killed people.   That’s a horrible thing, especially for him.   But I, for one, am grateful he stood up to Voldemort and the Death Eaters.   I, for one, am glad he killed Bellatrix Lestrange."   He turned and faced Harry, his eyes earnest, his face quite serious.   "I want to thank you, Harry, for what you’ve done for the wizarding world, but mostly, what you’ve done for me.   Thank you, Harry."

A stunned silence met his words, then a tumult of "Hear, hear!" and applause rang through the crowd.   Harry sat still, stunned.   Some of those in the crowd who had sat listening with angry expressions from time to time were among those cheering him now.   Somehow, Neville had touched a nerve that needed to be touched.  

Harry stood up and shook Neville’s hand.   "Thanks, Neville. That means a lot to me."

"No more than you deserve, mate," Neville replied, shaking Harry’s hand solemnly, then shaking Ron’s, Ginny’s and Remus’s hand in turn, thanking each of them for their part in the battle.   Soon a receiving line, of sorts, had formed, with D.A. members murmuring words of gratitude or admiration as they filed past the four battle survivors and filed out the door.   Harry noticed there were some who held back and slid out of the door without speaking to him or the others.   Their actions made Harry uneasy.

"That went well," Ron said, rubbing his hands in satisfaction.

"You think?" Harry said in disbelief.   "Some of them think we’re mad murderers now."

"No, they don’t," Ron insisted.   "Honestly, Harry, you’re too close to it.   You can’t see it.   They finally understand how battle strategies can help win battles.   They understand that they may have to kill people, but that you do what you have to do to win the war.   They didn’t get that before, not really.   I think now they do understand it.   They seemed a lot more serious, more committed by the end."

"Some of them sneaked out at the end," Harry retorted.

"It will take some of them more time to digest things, to understand, but they’ll all come round to it eventually.   Don’t worry about it.   These are the good guys, y’know?" Ron said with assurance.   "They’ll be all right.   You’ll see."

Harry stared at his friend.   Seemingly overnight, Ron had gone from a goofy, gangly kid who was good at chess and Quidditch but didn’t care about much else — except for his friends and girlfriend, of course — to a mature leader, a battle-tried warrior.   His answers to the questions had been wise, concise, well-thought-out, well-explained, everything you could want from a leader.  

"You think?" Harry asked hopefully.  

"Yeah, I think," Ron said, grinning.  

Harry grinned back at him.   "I hope you’re right.   I’ve been worried about this lot.   They weren’t taking things seriously enough.   Maybe now they will."

Ron clapped Harry on the shoulder.   "Yeah."

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Author Notes:

Many thanks to Kelpie, my brilliant Brit-picker, and to Blakevich, Starfox, Shawn and Pilar for beta-reading!