Several days after Ron had left Arthur and Molly were settling down for the evening, Arthur preparing to mark some essays, when Ginny burst into their room her face streaked with tears. With a sob she threw herself into her father's arms.

'Ginny? What has happened?'

'Dad! I'm scared.'

'Hush now, tell me what has occurred. You look as if you've been attacked.'

'Attacked? I don't know.'

'Who did this to you?'

'It was…Harry.'

Molly was on her feet in an instant, drawing her daughter to her bosom. 'Harry did this? But why?'

'I don't know! He forced his way into my room, his face wild with emotion, his cloak hanging from his shoulders and he was shaking. If he was shaking with cold or fear I know not, but his eyes…they were staring and unfocused, I'm not sure if he even saw me.'

'Did he hurt you?'

'No! He grabbed my wrists and pulled me to my feet and stared into my face. His lips were pulled back from his teeth but I cannot say if it were a smile or a grimace. I've never seen him look so…possessed.'

'Did he say anything?'

'He said nothing, nor did I. Then, he just seemed to deflate and let out a sigh that nearly tore the heart from my breast, and let go of me and left. But, all the time he was leaving he wouldn't take his eyes from my face.'

She threw herself back into her father's arms. 'I don't know what to do, help me.'

'Did you say anything to him?'

'No. I followed your orders to the letter, and gave him no encouragement. I said not a word, nor made a move. I have not spoken to him nor returned his look, as you bid me.'

Arthur fell into a chair, putting his head in his hands. 'Perhaps I have misjudged him. I thought he could be a danger to you if you tried to help him, but it seems his love for you still flows. He's still young, and his emotions are strong. It may be that I have not helped as I intended.

Come with me Ginny. We will go to the Headmaster, and see what he makes of this development.'

-o0o-

Snape had never realised how much of a Headmaster's time was taken up in meetings. Already today he had seen representatives from the Ministry.

Hogwarts had always been of an independent mind, and he wanted to keep it that way. The representatives had told him the Minister agreed, as there was still much work to do after the war and if Hogwarts could run itself then so much the better. They had emphasised the "if".

'Gentlemen' said Snape, smoothly, 'recent history has shown us that ministry interference is this school has been to the advantage of none.'

'Sir, it is not fair that the Minister be judged against the excesses of He-who-shall-not-be-named' said one, defensively.

'He is dead now; he can be called Voldemort. And what of Umbridge? Have you forgotten her?'

'Mad, Sir, I hardly think she counts.'

The meeting had ended amicably enough, with Snape being told that the Minister wanted no more than a happy school, and would not interfere if at all possible.

Now Snape and McGonagall looked at their next two visitors; young men who had formerly been students themselves.

'Mr Finnegan, Mr Thomas, we cannot tell you how grateful we are that you answered our call so quickly.'

'We shared a dorm with Harry for six years' said Dean. 'If we can help him now, it is our duty to do so.'

'Is he bad?' asked Seamus.

'Albus' death certainly hit him harder than most' said McGonagall, 'and he has been so out of sorts since the end of the war. I think he still blames himself for what happened.'

'You've known him since you started here' added Snape. 'See if you can draw him out; take him to Hogsmeade for a few drinks, get him interested in…anything. Try to encourage him to leave the school and live again.'

'We will, Sir' said Dean.

'Aye, whatever is required of us' added Seamus.

Arthur passed the boys as they left, and nodded cordially to them, and then approached the Headmaster and deputy.

'What news, Arthur?'

'I shall not beat about the bush. I think I know Harry's problem.'

'Then speak' said McGonagall.

'He is mad.'

'Hardly a reasoned response, Arthur. I'll admit I expected more of you.'

'Let me explain. I do not mean that in the vernacular way, but he is madly in love with my daughter Ginny. I think I may have made the problem worse by forbidding her to see him anymore, and it has brought out a crisis in him. Tonight, he almost attacked her in her room. Fortunately, no harm was done.'

'I knew they were close' said McGonagall. 'I think it was several years ago; the rumour spread around the school like wildfire of course, but he has seemed distant from her recently.'

'So thought I' replied Arthur, 'but I knew she still had feeling towards him. I forbade her seeing him for her benefit, not to cause him harm. Perhaps I was wrong in that, and he has reacted badly to her rejection, as he sees it.'

'You think so?' Snape enquired.

'It is possible' McGonagall replied. 'Emotions such as love run strong in youth.'

'I am aware' Snape said, almost to himself, 'that the loss of a true love can be devastating.'

'Can we be certain though, Arthur?' McGonagall creased her brow in concentration. 'If Ginny cares for him, and he for her, this upset could be very bad for him. How can we know?'

'I have an idea, Minerva. Harry spends many hours walking the corridors near the Entrance Hall of an evening. Suppose we engineered a meeting betwixt him and Ginny? I will hide nearby to overhear their conversation, and ensure no harm befalls her.'

'It is certainly an idea worth trying. I worry so much for the poor boy.'

'Then I shall wish you both goodnight, and arrange it. All I want is for them both to be happy.'

-o0o-

'Harry, mate! How are you doing?' Dean and Seamus burst their way into Harry's room with the unrestrained exuberance of youth. 'It's been a long time since we've seen you. Too long!'

Harry slapped them on the shoulders, and his smile seemed warm and genuine. 'Dean! Seamus! It is good to see you both. How is Dame Fortune treating you, her soldiers?'

'Oh, you know. We're not at her top…' said Dean.

'…or at her feet.' finished Seamus.

'Just hanging around her middle bits, as usual' Harry laughed.

'Yep, like all good privates!'

'She'll enjoy that; for a Dame she is a fickle strumpet. So, what news?'

'None much' said Seamus, 'except that the world grows more peaceful and honest each day.'

'The Armageddon must be approaching! What have you to done wrong to be sentenced here?'

'Are we in Hogwarts or Azkaban?' Dean asked, his face losing its smile slightly.

'I sometimes wonder' Harry shrugged.

Dean and Seamus glanced at each other. 'Listen,' said Seamus, carefully, 'there's a gate at the end of the drive, and a whole world outside it. If it's a prison you think this place is, then perhaps you are the jailer.'

'It could be.' Harry sank into the chair, his humour dropping from like leaves from an autumn tree. 'You could shove me down Myrtle's toilet and I'd have an infinity of space; were it not for the dreams.'

'Still bad?' asked Dean, perching on the chair arm.

Harry rubbed his hands distractedly. 'I live forever in their shadows. So why are you here?'

'Like we said; to see you, mate.'

'I am so poor of spirit at the moment that a visit to me cannot be worth a clipped knut. Be honest with me, did you come, or were you sent for?'

Dean and Seamus exchanged a wary look. 'What do you want us to say?' Seamus asked.

'If you are my friends, only the truth.'

'We were sent for' said Dean. 'But we're glad to be here, if it helps you' he added hurriedly,

'Of course we are' said Seamus, and his sincerity was obvious. 'It's not just the hero thing, Harry. We've known you since we were eleven, that very first night here. We're Gryffindors, we stick up for each other.'

'I appreciate that.' Harry felt his eyes grow damp and had to turn away.

'Yeah, anyway' Dean sounded a little embarrassed 'enough of all this tree hugging. What you need's a bit of fun; a couple of evenings in Hogsmeade, then maybe further afield. You're going to watch the play, of course?'

'Play?'

'Didn't you know? I think it might have been Arthur Weasley's idea; put on a muggle play, a bit of entertainment one evening. They're quite a good group; I've seen them before.'

'What are they called?'

'The King's Men.'

'I know them also, and it will be interesting to meet them once more.'

They were disturbed by a gentle knock on the door, and Arthur entered the room, smiling at Harry.

'I bet he's come to tell me about the play' Harry said quietly to his friends. 'I'd better act surprised; it will please him.' He smiled back at Arthur. 'Good to see you, Arthur. Is all well?'

'It is, Harry; I've good news for you. I've engaged a troupe of actors to entertain us, and they say they know you.'

'Excellent! How lovely! Truly you are Jephthah with great treasure.'

'He had treasure? Of what sort?'

'A daughter, whom he would surrender to only one.'

'A daughter? I also have a daughter. If her father thought there was only one worthy of her, then that man must have been very special.'

'A worshipful man, they say.'

'Then worthy of a daughter's hand. Will you meet these players? I am told they perform all kinds of things; history, tragedy…historical tragedy.'

'Show them in.'

The troupe entered, laughing and joking loudly amongst themselves, and dropping many famous names lightly into their conversation. The leader made an over theatrical bow to Harry.

'Good day to you, Sir! 'Tis with great pleasure I renew our acquaintance at this time.'

Harry smiled, and shook his hand. 'And 'tis good to see you, too. Arthur, will you get our guests something to drink?'

Whilst Arthur was pouring glasses of wine for them all, Harry continued talking.

'I remember the last play I saw you perform; it was very good. There was a scene where Pyrrhus and Priam fight,with great crashing of swords, and many oaths. I even remember some of the lines;

Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods,
In general synod 'take away her power;
Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel,
And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven,
As low as to the fiends!'

'Is that suitable for children?' Arthur asked, returning with their drinks.

'Of course!' said Harry. 'It's a great play. And Priam's wife is watching, and sees Pyrrhus kill her husband.'

'Indeed she does' said the actor '"She saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport / In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs".'

'That's the one' said Harry, who had become more animated than he had been for days. 'Please, will you perform that? I shall enjoy it. Arthur, show these good men to their rooms, and ensure they have all they need. If you don't, I'm sure they can work you into their next performance as a villain!'

Arthur smiled, pleased to see Harry in good spirits for a change. As he went to arrange the accommodation, Harry took the actor to one side.

'I remember another piece you perform' he said in no more than a murmur. 'It is called "The Murder of Gonzago". Do you know it still?'

'We do, it is always popular.'

'It is short. Could we have that as a first course, perhaps? And, another favour? Would you be willing to add but a few lines if I wrote them down for you? I am certain that a Thespian of your standing can give these words the gravity they need to propel them to great oratory.'

The actor nodded, and smirked. 'Of course I am but a humble purveyor of words, but it would give me great pleasure.' With a smile and a handshake he left with his companions, Dean and Seamus following them.

Harry found himself alone in the room, and sunk heavily into his chair.

'Is it a monstrous thing I do? His conceit is so great that he will speak words that mean nothing to him. He'll play his part with such passion that we shall probably all drown in his tears.

I'm meant to be the hero yet must sit and say nothing, not even for a man whose life was stolen from him, so he says. Am I a coward? Do I lack the gall to do this myself? I should be fattening all the crows for miles around with Snape's guts, yet I sit and let words do my work for me.

That is all I can do. I'll let this actor speak on my behalf, and watch Snape's reaction. His eyes shall be the mirror of his soul and I shall know from his reaction if my mentor spoke the truth.

I shall see if this play's the thing to draw out his confession, or show me the course I must take.'