Chapter Three: Life Goes On

"You touched my bum!"

Arthur sat up groggily and looked over at the bed his eleven-year-old daughter was sharing with a boy.

"Did not!" he heard Harry whisper. Then, a second later, "Didn't mean to. Sorry."

Arthur drifted back to sleep, only to be woken a few minutes later. "Owe, put some socks on, Ginny! You're feet are like ice cubes!"

"You should talk!" Ginny snapped back.

Arthur fell still, listening. He heard "arse", "idiot," "brat" and a few other words thrown in haphazardly, but without any context he could not understand what they were saying.

Finally, Mr. Weasley climbed out of the bed he was using so that one of the family was with the kids, and with his wand moved an adjoining bed to that used by Harry and Ginny. The two were wide awake and watching him intently.

"There," Arthur said with the edgy calm caused by being woken continuously in the middle of the night. "You each have your own mattress. Just hold hands, but spread out. You'll both sleep better for it."

"Thanks, Dad," Ginny said.

Harry nodded.

"Now sleep," Arthur ordered before he collapsed back into his own bed. A moment later, he was snoring.

Harry snored loudly too, and on the mattress next to him, Ginny snorted with laughter. "Harry!" she said between snorts.

When Arthur woke the next morning, he climbed out of his bed and started for the bathroom to get ready for work. He stopped halfway there, and walked back to the beds where his daughter was.

Harry and Ginny both lay on their sides, spooning together on their original mattress. Ginny fit perfectly into the contour of Harry, and his arm rested protectively over her stomach. His face was buried in the mass of her red hair.

His daughter's face was so utterly at peace that she looked to her father to be more beautiful than he had ever seen her. For all their bickering last night, for them to end up like this, and to look so completely at peace…

For the first time since learning that his daughter's life was in danger, Arthur felt his eyes watering a little. He wasn't entirely sure why, though, and so continued on toward the guest loo to get ready for work.

Half an hour after Mr. Weasley was gone, Ginny's eyes popped open. "Harry, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Dunno," came a response muffled by her hair.

"You're holding me."

"'Kay."

"Wake up, Harry, and get your arm off me!"

"'Kay." He still wasn't awake, but he lifted his arm off her shoulder and she rolled away. The jolt of pain brought both of them fully away, but neither of them moved. Instead, they sat up and stared at each other without touching.

There was pain, but it was like a mild headache rather than the sharp, stabbing pain they felt the day before.

"I can live with this," Ginny said.

"I can too," Harry agreed, now fully awake.

Madame Pomfrey made her morning rounds and saw the two of them staring at each other without touchingand without intense expressions of pain. "Good morning," she said primly.

The two started and stared at her. "Morning," they said weakly.

"How are we feeling?"

"It doesn't hurt as much to let go," Harry said. "It's been twenty minutes and it's not getting any worse."

"That's great news!" Pomfrey said. "Let's see how long this can go, then. I do not want you to touch at all, do you understand?"

"Oh yes," Harry said fervently. Ginny nodded her head.

Sometime later that morning, after Arthur and Molly had switched shifts, Madame Pomfrey allowed students in to visit. The first was Ron, who was so relieved to see his best mate and sister alive and well he almost cried.

Neville, Seamus and Dean came by for a visit with Harry, while several of the first year Gryffindors also came by for a visit with Ginny. Hermione they knew was still receiving the treatments to undo being petrified.

The last to visit that morning was a young Ravenclaw Harry had never seen, having missed the sorting that year.

She walked up to their beds and simply stared at them. She was a waif of a girl with long, almost unkempt white-blonde hair and the palest eyes Harry had ever seen. "Hello, Luna," Ginny said. "This is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Luna Lovegood."

"Hello, Harry," she said in a rather abrupt manner. She then looked at Ginny. "I wish you had told me you were going to get married. I would rather have liked to have seen that."

"We're not married," Ginny said in a rush.

"Yes you are," Luna said. Nearby, Molly had jumped to her feet.

"Luna, dear! How very good to see you," the Weasley matriarch said. "How is your father?"

"He's not married," Luna said. "Did you know Ginny was going to get married? I know she always fancied Harry, but eleven seems a young age to get married. Of course, I had a dream when I was seven about getting married. Actually, it was a dream I married you, Harry, and my mother never died and we were very happy together. You combed my hair every day and we had wonderful adventures."

Molly, Ginny and Harry stared at the girl. She stared right back with a strangely vacant smile. Finally, Ginny growled, "We're not married."

Luna shrugged. "But you are. I can see the bond."

Ginny looked at Molly. "Mum," she whined, "what does she mean?"

"Luna, thank you so much for visiting," Molly said as she walked the small girl out. "Please let your father know we're thinking of him."

"I will," Luna said in an airy, distant voice. "Congratulations on your daughter's wedding. I assume they will wait a few years to give you grandchildren. Maybe Harry can comb Ginny's hair for her. I bet he would be very good at combing her hair."

Molly choked a little. "Yes, I'm sure. Thank you again for coming."

When she had the girl safely out of the hospital wing, Molly walked with some trepidation back to the two beds where her daughter and Harry waited. While she was pleased to see they were not holding hands, they were most definitely staring at her.

"Luna's always been a bit strange," Ginny said. "But she's one of the smartest girls I've ever met, and she never misses anything. What did she mean by that, Mum?"

"I don't know," Molly said. "I'm sure she was just confused, that's all. You do have a bond, you know. Maybe somehow she could sense the bond and just assumed it was a marriage bond. But I'd not worry about it too much."

That afternoon, Professor Dumbledore made his way into the hospital wing with Arthur to visit them. "I understand you have gone the whole day without touching," he said.

The adults could not help but notice the drawn looks on the kid's faces. Both had dark rings under their eyes.

"Are you in pain?" Dumbledore asked.

"It hurts," Ginny admitted.

Harry merely shrugged. "It's a little irritating, not that bad."

"It hurts," Ginny said again. "He's just used to being hurt."

"Ron hasn't said he gets hurt that often," Mr. Weasley said.

Harry looked down at his feet and Ginny glared at him with pursed lips. "I'm not talking about here at school."

Harry did not look up, but Ginny's cheeks suddenly flushed and she turned to glare back at him. "Well they do!"

"Somebody has to know…"

"Not my fault…."

This was the first time they had witnessed one of the arguments when only one of them spoke aloud. Finally, Ginny huffed, crossed her arms, and lifted her chin. "Harry doesn't want me to tell you, but his Muggle family hurts him all the time."

Dumbledore went very, very still. Molly's hand went to her chest and Arthur's face reddened. "What do you mean?" Arthur said carefully.

"They hit him," Ginny said. "They don't feed him enough. Sometimes they only feed him once a day. They make him do all their cooking but they won't let him eat it. They make him work all day. He lived IN A CUPBOARD! But he doesn't want me to talk about it because he's used to pain. But I'm not, so yes, it hurts."

She fell silent, and by then was flushed with either anger or pain; none of the adults could tell. Harry, for his part, was bent over his crossed legs until his forehead rested against the bedsheets.

"Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "Is this true?"

When he sat up, they all saw his face flushed a furious red, his brows drawn together and his lips set in an angry line. Ginny refused to look at him, her chin up and her own lips set in a perfect imitation of his. "It doesn't matter," he said.

"Ron and twins said there were bars on Harry's window last summer," Arthur said. "I was inclined to believe they were hoodwinking me, but now I'm not…"

"The muggles were trying to keep him from getting any owlposts," Ginny said. "They think we're all freaks and they were hoping to beat the magic out of Harry."

Suddenly Harry turned to her and screamed. "Would you just shut up? It's none of your business! Get out of my head!" He jumped from the bed and ran down the length of the hospital wing and out into the hall before any of them could respond.

As soon as he was out of sight, Ginny's angry resolve melted and she bent over crying. Her parents were by her side, but she seemed inconsolable. "They treated him so bad," she said. "They hate him and they treat him so bad." She looked up at Dumbledore, and suddenly the grief turned into childish rage. "How could you do that to him? How could you let him stay with those…those…" She wracked her brain for the worst word she could come up with. "Bastards!"

"Ginny!" Molly gasped.

Dumbledore, however, merely sat and stared down at the distraught girl. "Is it truly so bad for him?" he whispered.

She nodded, still sobbing. "He won't tell anybody. He's used to it. He's used to being hurt all the time. Why should he be used to people hating him and treating him like that? This hurts because all his memories are of hurting. They've never hugged him. Never." The sobbing erupted into full blown gales of grief and she buried herself into her mother's arms.

With a nod at Arthur, Dumbledore excused himself and left the wing. A gentle inquiry of the portraits found that Harry was not in the Gryffindor tower. From his own distant observations, he had a suspicion of where else Harry would be.

The rest of the students were in the Great Hall for the evening feast. Hence the castle was nearly empty as Dumbledore climbed up a tower to the owlry.

There he found Harry, sitting cross-legged on the flagstones with Hedwig in his lap. He was gently petting the large owl while tears very quietly ran down his cheeks. He did not look up as Dumbledore gently sat himself down on the floor.

"Miss Weasley is quite upset," he said.

"I know," Harry said.

"Yes, I imagine you do. I cannot, however, imagine that you meant to hurt her."

"It's none of her business," he said. "It's no one's business."

Dumbledore stared at the school owls for the longest time. "I met your Aunt Petunia when she was thirteen years old. It was right after your mother's eleventh birthday," he said. "Normally, when a muggleborn student becomes eligible for Hogwarts, we send a staff-member out to speak to them. It is usually quite an adjustment for muggle parents to learn their daughter is a witch. Normally, this would have been either Professor Flitwick or Professor McGonagall, but we had several that year, so Miss Evans fell to me."

"Did my grandparents flip out?"

"Quite the contrary," Dumbledore said. "They were amazed and pleased that their youngest daughter was gifted with magic, and enthusiastically tried to assist her. Petunia went with them on their very first trip to Diagon Alley. I saw something in her eyes, even then, that was quite ugly. She was jealous of your mother, Harry. She even wrote me asking to be admitted. Sadly, I had no choice but to refuse her request."

"Why her, then?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly as he looked down into the brilliant green eyes of Lily Evan's son. "Your grandparents on your mother's side died of natural causes shortly before you were born. Your paternal grandparents were killed by Voldemort early in the first war. You had no other aunts or uncles on either side of the family. With the rather glaring exception of the Weasleys, most pure-blood families only produce one or two children in a generation, if any at all. Your father was an only child, just as his father was an only child. The law was quite clear—the Dursleys were your only blood relative. Aside from that, there is a special protection that can be woven using the bonds of blood. I knew when you were still a baby that you were at risk. That Voldemort's servants would stop at nothing to kill you because of what happened when your parents died. I needed you someplace safe. And the safest place as in the home of a blood relative, where I could weave those blood wards.

"Those wards have worked. You may not realize this, but when you were three one of Voldemort's followers did try to break into the Dursely home, and they were defeated by those wards. So, it was the safest place I could put you.'

He reached across and took Harry's hand. The boy's hand went limp in his. "I knew it was not a happy home for you, Harry, and I'm sorry. But I swear that I did not know the extent Petunia was willing to let her jealousy go."

"It doesn't matter," Harry muttered.

"Ahh, but it does, Harry. It does matter to a great many people who care for you, and it will not be tolerated. Especially now that there is something new to consider."

Harry looked up.

"Yes, Harry. I'm speaking of your bond with Miss Weasley. We are going to test my theory tonight, but I suspect it will be necessary for Miss Weasley to stay with you at the Dursleys, at least for a while."

Harry started shaking his head. "You can't do that. They'll hate her. They'll…."

"Will treat her with the utmost of dignity and respect, or answer to me," Dumbledore said. For a brief moment, the kindly old professor was gone, and in his place sat a being of power. Harry blinked, surprised. "And," the professor said, returning once again to the kindly, off-kilter old wizard, "to Miss Weasley's parents, to be sure."

Harry closed her eyes.

"Do you think perhaps you should apologize to Miss Weasley for yelling at her?" Dumbledore said.

"Just did," Harry said.

Dumbledore smiled. "Do you think you and Miss Weasley would be up to eating with your housemates this evening?

Harry nodded eagerly.

"Very well. After your dinner, please return to the Hospital Wing." The old wizard climbed back to his feet, albeit a tad slowly. Harry hopped up with the ease of youth and put Hedwig back.

The two of them arrived at the door of the Great Hall just as Ginny and her parents arrived. The two older Weasley's looked at Dumbledore. "She said you'd cleared them to eat in the Great Hall."

"Indeed I did," Dumbledore assured them. "You and Molly are more than welcome to join us, seeing as most of your family are here."

"That would be lovely," Arthur said.

Ginny and Harry merely looked at each other, and the adults could tell a silent communication passed between them. They each reached out a hand and clasped fingers. The touch seemed to invigorate them, albeit briefly, and they turned and led the way into the Great Hall.

Harry was met almost instantly by a bushy-haired blur. "Harry!" Hermione, newly recovered just hours before, screeched as she wrapped him up in a hug. Ron was there a moment later, and much of the Gryffindor Table got up to greet Harry. Ginny hung by, watching, until she felt arms around her shoulders.

"Come on Ickle Gin-Gin," Fred said.

"We have a place for you," George said.

She looked up at her brothers with a grateful smile and let them lead her to the table. Eventually, everyone else settled in as well. Ginny beamed happiness to have her parents there with her, and she looked around and saw that a good portion of her family was there. Percy, the twins, Ron, and…

She and Harry locked eyes, and it seemed that around them the rest of the world fell apart. Hermione sat on Harry's right, while Ron sat on his left next to his father.

Suddenly Harry blushed a bright shade or red, as did Ginny.

"Harry, you all right?" Hermione asked, looking from him to Ginny.

"We're okay now," Harry said. He turned to her, smiled, and put an arm around her shoulder. "It's really good to see you, Hermione."

She blinked at him, and smiled as well. "It's good to see you too."

After a filling meal, everyone parted to head back to their common rooms, save for Molly and Arthur Weasley, and Harry and Ginny. Throughout dinner, Molly had been watching the two of them with the eye of a mother. What she saw frankly alarmed her.

Both of the kids looked sallow and exhausted, with rings under their eyes. As the meal progressed, it really did look as if they were sinking in on themselves. It was almost with relief that they finished and started heading toward the hospital wing.

They were not quite there when Harry suddenly stopped, turned and looked at Ginny. She looked back, her eyes half-closed.

Harry started to reach for her, when Ginny suddenly collapsed to the floor. He made a strange sound, almost like a gurgle, and then collapsed right after her.

"Ginny!" Molly said, rushing to her daughter's side. She looked up at Arthur, who already had his wand out.

"Let's get them to the hospital wing," Arthur said. "More like as not, they just need to curl up in bed together."

"You realize you're talking about our eleven-year-old daughter!" Molly said.

"Yes, Molly, I am very well aware of the fact," Arthur snapped back. He lifted Harry in a levicorpus spell and walked him toward the hospital wing. Molly took the more mundane approach of scooping Ginny up in her arms and following after.

Madame Pomfrey was just emerging from her office when she spotted Arthur and Harry. "Oh dear, did they collapse?" She did not sound entirely surprised.

Arthur nodded and allowed the mediwitch to direct Harry to their bed. With great reluctance, Molly placed her daughter on the same bed. Then they watched the oddest thing happen.

By intent or not, Molly placed Ginny on the edge of the bed as far from Harry as she could. Rather than scoot toward each other, Ginny actually slid backward across the sheets, much like a piece of metal to a magnet, until she was curled once more into the pocket of Harry's embrace. Almost immediately, the girl sighed in relief, and a hint of a smile touched her lips.

Harry did not smile, but the constant frown he had worn all day relaxed into a peaceful expression of slumber.

"That's what I thought," Pomfrey said. "Let's get Albus down here, and we'll explain what's going to happen from now on."

As it happened, the headmaster was already on his way, and very shortly the four adults were in Madame Pomfrey's room. Dumbledore ordered tea, and they all settled down to a cuppa.

"First, it appears the bond has stabilized," Pomfrey began. "That's why they were able to go most of the day without touching. I think the worst of the discomfort will fade away over time, possibly as early as tomorrow."

"So then this…" Molly waved at the door, "is just temporary? It's completely inappropriate for Harry and Ginny to sleep together, not matter how innocent it may seem. Because I assure you, in time it won't remain that way."

Pomfrey looked to Dumbledore, who nodded gravely. "The bond is not temporary, Molly."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I performed the standard identity spell," Dumbledore said. "Any ministry official would regard this as a marriage bond. While what they have is not technically not one, the link would be interpreted under any standard definition as a magical marriage."

Molly paled. Arthur stood up abruptly, then sat back down. "Albus, you don't mean…."

"The soul-bond would register in the ministry as a magical marriage," Albus confirmed. "If you wish to certify it as such, it would provide emancipation to both Harry and Ginny."

"That's preposterous!" Molly said. Her voice was quickly rising. "We must put a stop to this now! They are not of marriageable age, either of them. I want that link severed!"

"I can do that," Dumbledore said. He leaned forward until his rheumy eyes locked onto Molly's. "But if I do, they will both die."

Molly shook her head. "You're lying! I know you are. You're doing this for Harry. You just want him to have a friend, so you did all of this…."

"Molly!" Arthur snapped.

Pomfrey, however, cleared her threat. "Mrs. Weasley—Molly—did nothing we discuss after their recovery sink into your mind? Harry Potter sacrificed a portion of his own soul to save your daughter. The act of doing that has linked their souls together. Any attempt to sever that bond would destroy their very souls, and in so doing kill them. If you have any doubt of this, I would be glad to accompany you to St. Mungo's where they can tell you the same thing."

Molly stared from one to the other, before she jumped to her feet and walked quickly out of the room. Arthur followed her immediately.

Mr. Weasley found his wife in a corner of the hall just outside of the hospital wing. She stood staring forlornly out of a stained glass window at the lake. He saw her weeping as he joined her and put an arm around her shoulder.

"It's not right," Molly said. "Those two sleeping together like husband and wife."

Arthur chuckled. It was the perfect response to his wife's pain. "I assure you, wife, they are not sleeping together as husband and wife."

She shook her head. "Prat."

"I will confess something to you," Arthur said. "You never did stories for Ginny. You two never did get along as well as I hoped. Probably because she's so much like you. But Ginny grew up listening to stories about Harry. Not the ridiculous stories that were published, but stories she insisted that I tell her about how he probably lived, and what he probably liked. She was always sad for him losing his parents. She even once told me she would grow up and marry him and make him happy, like he deserved."

"She skipped the growing-up part," Molly said.

"True. But all this means is that Harry is even more a part of our family than before. You can't deny you were fond of him. And you heard what Ginny said of his home life. Maybe she is exactly what he needs."

"They don't seem to be getting along very well," Molly said.

"That's because they are children," Arthur pointed out. "I would be worried if they instantly became friends. The stories we read say that soul bonds are supposed to arise from deep love. Theirs arose through Harry's selfless sacrifice. If you truly care for either of them, Molly, then you should hope very much like I do that they do eventually come to love one another. Because they are linked either way."

He cleared his throat and squeezed Molly's shoulders. "Well, I think it's time we go back in there and finish hearing what the Headmaster has to say."

They arrived back in Pomfrey's office to find the mediwitch and Dumbledore exactly where they left them. Molly stuttered out a brief apology, to which the headmaster nodded and smiled. "It is quite all right, Mrs. Weasley. This is a shock to us all, believe me. Now, Madame Pomfrey, if you would continue?"

"Quite," the nurse said primly. "Potter and Miss Weasley collapsed today because their bond was strained. It is as simple as that. The bond must be occasionally strengthened through physical contact. It will never break, but if it is weakened sufficiently both of them will be debilitated."

"And if it is ever broken?" Molly asked.

"Then it will be as Albus said," Pomfrey told them. "Ginny and Harry will die. They are linked mentally, magically and physically. Such links cannot ever be severed. As inappropriate as it may seem, I see no alternative but to allow them to continue to sleep together. Anything else risks their very lives."

"They are children now," Molly said. "But when they are older…"

"Then they may do what teenagers often do," Pomfrey said. "They may even do what a certain young witch of fourteen did with her paramour in the astronomy tower on a certain April day."

Molly turned a bright shade of red. Arthur, however, grinned. "That was a good day," he remembered fondly.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Be that as it may, this does raise certain complications regarding Harry's housing."

Arthur's smile faded. "I will not have my daughter in the same house as those atrocious muggles you've saddled Harry with."

"I'm afraid there is no choice," Dumbledore said. "However, there certain steps we can take to ensure that she is treated properly."

"Such as?"

"I will accompany Harry home after term, and explain it to the Dursley's in a way they can understand. Arthur, you can then bring Miss Weasley to Harry's home in the evening. You may take whatever steps you feel necessary for her safety. Wards, tracking charms—whatever you require. And in the morning, you or Molly may pick her up and keep her home."

"You speak as if we have no choice in this," Arthur said.

Dumbledore looked from one to the other. "Lucius Malfoy makes two inquiries a week as to Harry's address."

Arthur paled. "Malfoy?"

"There have been other inquiries made as well. Crabbe, Goyle, Nott. I understand Mr. Bulstrode also inquired some time ago, during Harry's first year. Of course, the Wizengamot found that all these gentlemen were forced to commit acts of barbarity while under the Imperius curse during the first war, and so were let free. I'm sure their ongoing desire to know exactly where Harry Potter lives is quite innocent. However, because of those blood wards, they cannot trace him. Most importantly, they cannot harm him. While those wards are recharged every year, Harry will always have a safe place to live. And so, for at least the first month or so of summer, Harry must remain at the Dursleys. And as we have discussed, it now appears that Ginny must spend her evenings him."