Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter

A/N: Hey there folks. Just to let you know, my previous comments about not having much time to write still stand. The only reason this is ready so fast is because the power went out the other day at work, and I had three or four hours with nothing to do but sit there and write. So hooray for updates, right? I don't know how many people actually are reading this, but those of you that are, please feel free to leave comments In the form of a review. Also, if you have questions about the story, please post them as well, or feel free to PM me. If there is something that is confusing or unclear, it would really help me to know. I won't promise an answer to any and all questions, because it may be something that will be explained further down the line, but I will answer what I can. Enjoy your week folks!

Harry and Ron sat silently before the empty hearth in the living room of the Burrow, each of them staring intently at the half empty chessboard that sat on a table between them. Ron's brow was furrowed and his mouth was set in a deep frown as he studied the battlefield intently, analyzing each possible move and weighing them against one another. Finally his face broke into a grin and he spoke, "Queen to E-5."

Both players watched as Ron's queen stalked across the board towards Harry's terrified pawn, her sword making short work of him as she quickly took his place.

"Checkmate," Ron said, his tone triumphant. Harry slumped back into his armchair, feeling drained.

"I don't know why I still bother playing with you anymore," he said, though his sad tone was somewhat undermined by his wide smile. "I'm never going beat you."

"Oh come on Harry, it's not about winning and losing, it's about having fun."

"Easy to say when you always win," Harry muttered darkly, though his smile never wavered. Ron laughed.

"To be honest with you mate, you had me against the ropes there. I wasn't sure how I was going to pull it off until you left your bishop out of position a few moves ago. If it wasn't for that, you probably would have taken me."

"Really," Harry asked in surprise.

"Yeah," Ron said, nodding, "damn right. Now come on, set 'em up; I'm going to have to crush you into the ground. No offense, but I can't have you thinking you can actually beat me, it'll ruin my image." They both had a laugh at that one as they commanded the pieces to reset for another game. Clearly some of the dead pieces were not looking forward to being sent forward into possible destruction once more, because they took their time even getting up, mumbling all the while and shooting the two boys dirty looks. Both leaned back in their chairs, sipping at their butterbeers in companionable silence.

"Can I ask you something Harry?" Ron finally asked, breaking the quiet. Harry nodded his permission and Ron sucked in a breath before plowing ahead. "What did you see? The other night, in your dream I mean."

Harry took another sip of butterbeer to buy himself time, thinking about how he should answer. Dumbledore had not told him to keep the contents of the dream a secret, but he had still been reluctant to volunteer to share it with anyone else. It was so horrifying that he dreaded the idea of reliving it in his head yet again, and he liked even less the idea of having his friends bear that burden with him. But at the same time, he felt like they had a right to know; Ron perhaps more so than any of them since he had been the one subjected to hearing Harry's screams.

"I was seeing something," Harry began slowly, "a vision, a memory, or whatever you want to call it. About him…and about the Durselys." Ron stayed silent, sensing that this was a difficult subject for Harry to talk about. "He came to their house, apparently soon after I had left. He was really, really angry that they didn't capture me." As he played through the scene in his head, he got the feeling that he was missing something in what the Death Eaters were saying, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He pushed the feeling to the back of his mind and continued.

"They blew up the house and took the Durselys with them, back to the Malfoy's place. He...he tortured them for information. About me, about where I was and how I had escaped. He killed my uncle…horribly. And I know he had more of the same planned for my aunt and Dudley, but the vision stopped and I woke up." Ron sat silent and still as stone, his only movement a slow blinking as he stared rigidly into the chessboard, watching as a meandering knight knocked down a bishop, receiving a cry of outrage and a very rude gesture in response.

This sparked another wave of tiny cries, and the pieces were on the verge of a riot when Ron finally spoke again, looking up into Harry's eyes. "Look, Harry I…" He trailed off but Harry said nothing, knowing how difficult it could be for Ron to talk about serious things and wanting to give his friend a chance to get whatever this was off of his chest. "Look I'm not going to make some crazy, emotional speech like Dad," he said finally, shaking his head, "so you can forget that. But I just wanted to say that when you went missing…I thought you were a gonner for sure mate. And that made me do a lot of thinking about what it would be like with you gone."

He ran a hand through his messy red hair, looking as serious as Harry had ever seen him. "I said to myself, 'Wow Ron, you're never going to talk to Harry again'. And that hurt," he said, sounding somewhat shocked, "like physically hurt, somewhere down in this area." He waved his hand in a circle, indicating his stomach region. "And I thought about all those times that I lost my temper with you about something, or got jealous of you and stormed off and ruined things for a while. But no matter how bad things got back then, I always knew you know, deep down, that we'd patch things up; things'd be back to normal. This time was different, and when I thought back on all those things that just don't seem that important anymore, I realized what a total prat I was for wasting all that time with my friend. I don't want to waste anymore time mate."

"Not saying I won't lose my temper," Ron was quick to assure him, "but I'm not gonna walk away again Harry. I'm with you till the end, and I know Hermione feels the same way." He held out his hand with a smile and Harry took it, a return smile plastered on his face. But inside he felt a cold dagger sliding into his gut. He knew how hard it was for his friend to talk about any kind of feelings, much less his own, and the fact that he wanted to stay with Harry through everything that was coming meant a lot, but he knew it wouldn't last, not once Ron knew.

So far it had been a simple matter to convince himself that there was no need to talk about the prophecy. Everyone was so excited to have him back that he couldn't bring himself to ruin their festive mood with his news. But Harry knew that eventually he would have to reveal the contents of the prophecy, to Ron and Hermione if no one else. And once it was discovered that his destiny had set him on a collision course with Voldemort, that he must either kill or be killed, their opinions would change very quickly.

And even if they didn't, even if his friendships ran so deep that they would be willing to risk their lives with him, he knew he couldn't allow it. He was the one who was tied to this, not them. They had a choice; a chance to live normal lives untouched by fate or Voldemort, and they deserved to live them. This was the only family he had left, and he would not allow them to be taken down with him.

Ron had long since let go of his hand and set about bringing order to the warring chess pieces, having to physically pick up and pull apart the two dueling kings to get them to stop fighting. It took a lot of swearing and several poked fingers, but the defeat of their leaders subdued the others and they grudgingly resumed their normal places.

Ron smiled at him, sucking at his wounded fingers and shaking them to try to take the sting away. "Ready?"

Before Harry could reply their came the sound of screeching from the kitchen.

"Let's go see," Harry said, sounding a little apprehensive. Ron groaned, but rose obediently from his chair and followed Harry out of the room.

The moment they entered they were greeted by enormous hugs from Mrs. Weasley, who seemed ready to burst with excitement.

"Oh boys, they're here, they're here! Oh this is such an exciting day; I'll have to floo your father right away Ron." She finally released them and took two envelopes from the nearby table, handing one to each boy. "Well," she encouraged them, "go on."

They glanced at one another, both sporting an identical nervous look before they finally set themselves and tore into the Ministry seal holding the envelope shut. Harry pulled the sheet of parchment out and quickly opened it. He could feel sweat building on the back of his neck as he skimmed through the list of what the pass and fail grades were, until finally he reached what he had been waiting to see.

Harry James Potter has achieved:

Astronomy A

Care of Magical Creatures E

Charms E

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Divination P

Herbology E

History of Magic D

Potions E

Transfiguration E

He read through the lines a few times, and felt his breathing ease and his gut unclench with each reading. He had passed! Well, maybe not everything. Failing History of Magic had been a foregone conclusion seeing as he had left the hall in the middle of the exam, and he never had a chance of passing Divination, but he had passed everything else!

He turned to Ron, eager to share the good news, but his smile faded as soon as he saw the look on his friend's face. Ron was staring at the letter he clutched in both hands, his eyes wide and his face scrunched up in a look of compete disbelief. Harry felt all the happiness he had felt mere moments earlier draining away from him. He reached out a hand, placing it gently on his friend's shoulder.

"Look, Ron…"

"I passed," Ron interrupted, his voice full of shock and awe. "I– I can't believe it, I passed." He held out the letter for his mother and she took it, smiling as she scanned its contents.

"Of course you passed Ron; I knew you would. Seven OWLs, I'm so proud of you. Just wait until I tell your father!" Ron beamed and turned to Harry.

"Only failed Divination and History of Magic. What about you mate?"

"Same."

"Well no great loss then," Ron laughed, "honestly I can't believe I'm finally going to be rid of Binns. This might just be the best day of my life." He wiped a fake tear from his cheek and Harry joined him in laughter, and even his mother cracked a slight smile.

"What about Hermione's?" Ron asked, eyeing the unopened envelope that sat on the kitchen table.

"Go ahead," his mother replied, waving her hand at them, "I think she's still upstairs with Ginny. I'll just floo your father and let him know the good news."

Ron had snatched the waiting envelope before she had even finished speaking and dashed for the staircase, Harry right behind him. There was no way he was going to miss this moment.

The two boys quickly reached the landing outside Ginny's room and Ron pushed open the closed door and walked inside, still smiling. He lost that smile a moment later, when he was met with a flying pillow to the face.

"Ow!" he shouted, flinching out of reflex, "watcha do that for?"

"Enter my room without knocking again dear brother and it'll be my History of Magic book instead."

Harry barely suppressed a chuckle as Ron sputtered, trying to come up with a response. He could see Ginny sitting cross legged on her bed, her hair tied back and a book in her hand. Hermione sat at the small desk in front of the open window, a quill in one hand while the other covered her mouth as she giggled at Ron.

"Well…that's just completely…you are just…" Ron was nearly speechless as he tried to find a way to reply to his younger sister until finally he closed his gaping jaw and smirked before turning away. "Well then, I guess Hermione has no interest in seeing this letter that juts came for her. I'll just take it downstairs…" He didn't even finish his sentence before Hermione leapt out of her chair, squealing as she charged towards Ron, reaching for the letter that he now held in his outstretched arm.

"Ronald Weasley you give me that letter this instant!" she shouted, snatching it from his fingers as soon as she was within reach and tearing into it with a ferocious vigor. She removed the contents, opening and examining them, her eyes flying from side to side as she read at lightning speed. Finally she looked up at the three of them, all waiting expectantly, but did not speak, merely staring blankly.

"Well," Ron said impatiently, "how'd you do?"

"Oh, I did alright I suppose," Hermione answered vaguely.

Ron shot Harry a look of disbelief before stepping forward and taking the letter from her unresisting hands, quickly scanning the contents before snorting with laughter.

"Oh dear me, you poor thing, no wonder you're so upset. Ten Outstandings and one Exceeds Expectations in Defense Against the Dark Arts. This is just awful this is."

"Come on Hermione, that's excellent, why are you so upset?" Harry asked. She seemed to come out of her daze a little and shook her head.

"I'm not upset, really. I don't know what's come over me, just shock I suppose." She smiled brightly at them now, looking much more like herself. "So, how did you two do?"

"Great," Ron answered, grinning widely, "seven each."

"Really?" Hermione asked, sounding a bit surprised, "that's wonderful."

"What, is that so surprising?" Ron asked crossly, a frown overtaking his face. "Shocked that I might actually do good for a change?"

"No Ron, that's not what I meant at all," she replied quickly, "you don't have to get so defensive."

"Well why shouldn't I?" Ron asked bitterly. "Since apparently I'm such a terrible wizard that you're shocked I can even pass my OWLs."

"I never said that!" she shrieked in reply. "Stop putting words into my mouth."

During this entire exchange, Harry had been very slowly backing towards the door, not wanting to attract any attention. From the corner of his eye he could see Ginny had somehow slipped from her bed and along the wall, obviously having had the same idea. He held one finger up to his lips and she nodded in reply, carefully stepping over a floorboard that she knew to be squeaky before continuing towards him. As soon as she reached him they both slipped silently though the open doorway and carefully pushed the door closed behind them, muffling the now shouting voices within. Both pressed their backs against the door and let out a small sigh of relief before glancing at each other, each sporting an identical grin.

"One more minute in there and I would have strangled the both of them," Ginny said, struggling to contain her laughter.

"You're telling me. I'm there for nearly every fight they have, it's a bloody nightmare. What's worse is they try to drag me into it, want me to pick sides."

"You think we should just tell them that they like each other and get it over with? At least then they might snog instead of argue." Harry's eyes widened in surprise at this.

"You think so?"

"What, that they like each other?" Ginny asked. Harry nodded and she rolled her eyes at him before turning her head and looking forward. "Honestly Harry, sometimes you can be so thick. You'd have to be blind not to see something there. Trust me, if one of them ever grows a pair long enough to tell the other how they feel, those two will be going at it like horny dogs."

Harry shuddered at the mental image of his two best friends snogging in the Gryffindor common room. It wasn't that he had any interest in Hermione himself, she was more like a sister than anything, and if being together would make them happy than he had no objections. What he was worried about was what the two of them dating would mean to the three of them.

For more than five years they had been with him through thick and thin, and the three of them were together practically every minute of the day. If Ron and Hermione started dating then they would obviously want to start spending more time alone, and where would that leave Harry? Alone in the corner, doing homework and trying not to let everyone see how lonely he was. Ginny's hand touching him lightly on the arm shook him out of those morbid thoughts and he saw she was looking at him again, understanding on her face.

"Hey, don't worry about it. With those two it could be years before anything happens."

"Yeah," he said, a fake smile in place, "you're probably right." She looked him in the eye, obviously not buying it.

"Well how about this then, if those two end up dating and start wandering off to find broom closets together, then you can just hang out with me, alright? I may not be as obsessed with studying as Hermione, or as obsessed with quidditch as Ron, but I'll do my best to fill their shoes." There was nothing fake about his smile now as the two of them laughed softly. "Now come on," Ginny said pushing off of the wall and starting down the stairs, "get off your arse Potter and let's go for a fly."

Harry was grinning from ear to ear as he knifed through the air on his Firebolt, the wind tugging at his ever messy black hair. Just ahead of him he could still see Ginny, her fiery hair flashing in the afternoon sun as the two of them arced around the roof of the Burrow and set a slow, lazy course for the nearby tree line. Kicking his broom forward a small bit, he pulled up alongside her and caught her gaze, her smile mimicking his own.

"You know," he said, not quite shouting but louder than normal to be heard over the wind, "as much as I like quidditch, I think I love this the most."

"What, flying for fun?"

He nodded, "Yeah. Every time I go up I feel…I don't know, powerful; in control. It's always been like that, since my first flying lesson when Malfoy stole something of Nevilles and I had to chase him to get it back. I was nervous at first because I had never touched a broom in my life, but the moment my feet left the ground, a part of me felt at home. Even if I graduate from Hogwarts and never get to play a real game of quidditch again, I'll be happy just as long as I can keep flying."

"I'm the same way," Ginny said, pulling her broom just a bit closer so that he could hear her better, "but not for the same reason. For me it's about Tom. People like Ron, they fly because that's how you play quidditch. They'd be just as happy if the game were played on the ground like muggle foosball."

"That's football," Harry laughed.

"Whatever," Ginny said, waving her hand dismissively, "the point is that it's not about the flying for them, it's about the game. But for you…for me, it's the flying. From the moment our feet leave the ground, we're in total control. We fly hundreds of feet in the air with nothing between us and death but our own skill and a broom. If we lose control, it's on no one but us; our fate is in our own hands. After my first year…I needed that." She closed her eyes and looked away, and Harry knew she was trying to hide the welling tears.

"I snuck out so many times that summer before and after we went to Egypt, going for long flights in the middle of the night. I needed to take back the control he took from me, and the only place where I could really feel that was up in the air. Before that I liked flying, but now I love it." She looked over at him and laughed. "We just can't seem to stop with the emotional chats, can we?"

He grinned back at her, grateful that she had broken the somber mood. "Yeah, I should be careful. You're turning me into a girl." Her mouth melted into a thin line and Harry felt his stomach flip at the blazing look he saw in her eyes.

"You'll regret that Potter. See if you can keep up." And without further warning she pushed her broom into a dive, headed straight towards the grassy floor below. Harry's eyes widened but he followed suit, determined to catch her. His Firebolt had the superior speed by far, but her surprise maneuver had put her far out ahead of him. He watched helplessly as she grew closer and closer to that flat green canvas, his Firebolt's superior speed unable to close the gap between them in time. His fingers tightened their vice like grip on the broom handle, knuckles white from the pressure and he willed himself to move faster, but he already knew that he would never reach her in time.

Only a handful of moments before she would have made a spectacular crater in the grassy field, Ginny pulled with all her might on the handle of her broom, arcing her into an impossibly tight turn. The tips of her toes just barely grazed the grass the instant she became fully horizontal and she shot away, no more than a flying red blur.

Harry yanked on his own broom, nosing up ever so slightly until he was facing the trees, his feet sitting a few feet above the earth now flying by beneath him. He hunched over further, trying to remain as flat as possible while he coaxed forth every ounce of speed the Firebolt had. His broom's superior speed allowed him to begin closing the gap between them, but she still had a fairly substantial lead.

Both, however, could see the wall of trees that loomed ahead of them, and were forced to begin slowing down before entering or risk slamming into a branch that they wouldn't have time to avoid. Harry saw Ginny turn and look over her shoulder, throwing him a wink before turning back ahead and disappearing into the thick forest. Harry simply snorted and followed her.

Within moments he wondered if he was completely insane as branches large and small began popping up in front of him, coming so fast that they almost seemed to appear from nowhere. He shoved that thought to the back of his mind and gave himself over fully to his instincts, twisting and turning as his mind directed. Occasionally he would catch glimpses of Ginny through the flashing foliage, and he knew that he was gaining on her. The only question was whether it would be enough to overtake her before they exited the forest, which he knew, subconsciously, was the finish line for their little race.

Faster and faster the branches seemed to come, and there were dozens of near misses, but finally, after what seemed like hours, he saw light up ahead, and the foliage thinned considerably. A quick glance to his left told him that he and Ginny were neck and neck, and he pushed his broom as hard as he could, desperate to pull ahead.

Seconds later both teens exploded from the trees like cannonballs, each breaking hard and shouting wildly.

"I win!"

"Like hell you do, I was a full foot ahead of you."

"Oh please, not even close."

Both stared at each other hard for several long, tense moments, neither willing to back down. Finally a crack appeared in Ginny's smile and Harry snorted, and within a minute both were nearly falling off their broom in tears of laughter.

"Merlin Harry," Ginny said, wiping a small drop from her cheek as she spoke, "I haven't had that much fun in ages."

"Me neither," Harry agreed, clutching his side, "that was amazing. I knew you were good on a broom, but…just wow."

"You aren't so bad yourself Mr. Potter. Come on, let's start heading back, food'll be ready soon."

Harry knew she was right, he could see the sun beginning to droop and the light beginning to glow orange, but it was still with reluctance that he turned his broom towards the Burrow and the two of them started back together. He really couldn't remember the last time he had this much fun and didn't want it to end.

"So," he asked as they flew, "where'd you learn to pull off a dive like that. It took me forever to perfect."

"From you," she answered, causing Harry to look shocked. "Oh come on, I remembered you using that Wronski Feint during the Triwizard Tournament and it got me thinking that it would be a good move to have in my pocket if I was going to play for Gryffindor. So I worked on it. Only took me about two weeks to get it right. Cost me quite a few bumps and bruises though."

"Well, good for you, but you scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," she giggled as the two of them touched down outside the Burrow.

Both of them locked their brooms away in the shed and headed towards the house, neither speaking until Ginny reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back before he could open the door.

"Look, Harry, I just wanted to say thanks for listening. I know I can prattle on sometimes, but it's been really great having a friend that I can talk about this kind of stuff with. I mean Luna's great and all, but it's kind of hard to have a conversation about Tom Riddle with her, you know?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding, "I know exactly what you mean. I still find it hard to talk about some things with Ron and Hermione, and we've been friends for what seems like forever. And you don't have to thank me, I like talking to you. There aren't many people that I can talk about Voldemort with and have them actually understand what it's like to fight him; it's kind of nice."

He sighed and shook his head. "Besides, without you to talk to I'd probably be going spare right now. Everything just feels so different, but still the same, you know?"

Ginny shook her head, looking confused and Harry scratched his own, trying to figure out how best to explain it.

"Well I mean on the one hand everything is completely different. Let's face it Ginny, I disappeared for a few days and came back with new eyes and no memory, and then that very night a cursed scar linking me to an evil dark lord is mysteriously removed. That's not exactly normal, even by my standards. And there's absolutely nothing I can do, I have no idea what might have happened to me, and I may never know. But then at the same time, it all feels like it did before, being here with you all. Ever since my party last week Hermione has started dropping hints that she wants me to open up to her about Sirius again, as if nothing has happened."

He ran a frustrated hand through his messy hair. "Honestly I hadn't thought about Sirius too much since I got back and that makes me feel guilty enough. Hermione bugging me about it just feels like rubbing it in my face. I mean I still miss him, but it doesn't feel the same as before."

"Maybe it has something to do with your disappearance," Ginny offered, shrugging. "You know, maybe something happened that helped you deal with Sirius dying, and now you just don't remember what it was."

"Maybe," Harry said, "I just don't know. Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy."

"You aren't going crazy, you're just confused, and you have every right to be. But you'll figure it all out in the end Harry. And we're going to be there with you the whole way."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said, unable to meet her gaze.

"You listen to me Harry James Potter," Ginny said forcefully, grabbing his face with both her hands. "You can just stop that kind of crap right now. We are your friends and we aren't going anywhere. Get that through your thick skull."

"Well maybe you don't know everything," he replied darkly.

"What don't we know?" Harry stood mutely. "Fine then, you don't have to tell me right now, or even at all. If you ever need to talk to me, you know I'm always here." She loosened her hands on his face now, cupping it gently instead. "I can't tell you what anyone else will do, it's not my place to speak for them. But I can tell you this: there is nothing in this world that you could possibly tell me that would make me abandon you Harry. You are my friend, and I'll be there for you as long as you need me." She released his face and pulled him into a tight hug.

He didn't move for several long moments, but finally he melted into her arms, hugging her back tightly.

"Thanks," he whispered softly, his lips very close to her ear. He felt her shudder in his arms and hugged her tighter, worried that she might have caught a chill on her broom. She looked up into his face, her bright brown eyes staring into his own.

"You're welcome," she whispered back.

They stood like that for over a minute, arms still wrapped around one another, staring into each other's eyes. Harry's heart was starting to beat faster now as he realized the situation he was in. What am I doing, this is Ron's sister. Their family has practically adopted me, I can't be having these feelings about her! Oh, but she smells so good…

"Harry," she whispered again, even softer this time. So soft that he had to lean in, to hear her better of course, and their faces were closer now…so close…

"Girls, can you come down for a moment and help me get dinner on the table? Boys, wash up and get down here as well."

Mrs. Weasley's shouts shattered the tension in the air like stained glass and the both of them broke apart instantly, looking around awkwardly at the walls, the sky, anything but each other.

"I should, you know…go. Inside. Help Mum." Harry nodded, still not looking at her and she darted inside, closing the door behind her. He leaned against the door she had just closed, forehead pressing into the rough wood as he tried to get his breathing under control. What is wrong with me? I can't believe how close I came to…I've got to just put this out of my mind and everything will go back to normal. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about the way her hair smelled, the feel of her soft hands on his face, the way her lips parted slightly as they came closer and closer to –

Enough, he admonished himself, reaching for the doorknob, just shut up. And with that he slipped inside, and closed the door behind him.