Chapter Fourteen: Accidental Magic
Ginny stood on the platform waiting with Luna by her side. She spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione climbing out of the last car. Instantly his eyes locked on to hers, as if he knew by instinct where she was.
Nearby, Hagrid was calling for the first years. Ginny restrained an urge to go stand with the newest group of students. Instead, she waited until her brother, bond mate and friend arrived.
"Ready?" Harry asked.
Ginny nodded. I'm not mad at you any more, Ginny sent.
Harry smiled tentatively. I'm sorry I made you mad in the first place.
Ginny shrugged. "You're a boy," she said aloud. "You just can't help it."
Hermione must have guessed at least a little of what they said, since she chuckled. "Let's get to the carriages."
Without a thought, Ginny's hand sought Harry's and slid snugly into his grip. As always, a comforting warmth came from the contact. If she really thought about it, she knew it was not so much the addition of warmth, but rather the cessation of the nagging discomfort that was always there whenever they were apart. Over the summer they grew accustomed to the feeling of their being apart, but it was always a relief for it to stop, no matter how briefly.
The warm feeling came to an end, though, much sooner than she thought.
"What is that?" she whispered. She knew beside her Harry could see it as well.
Hermione and Ron continued on a stop before they stopped and looked back at Ginny and Harry. "What is what?"
"Leading the cart," Ginny said.
"They weren't there last year," Harry said.
In front of each carriage stood a black, devilish looking creature, winged and skeletal. The one in front of the nearest cart was staring directly at them.
"What are you two talking about?" Hermione demanded a little shrilly.
Just then Luna walked past them, stepped calmly to the side of the evil-looking creature, and gently patted its side. "This is a thestral," Luna said.
"What's a thestral?" Hermione demanded. "What are you talking about?"
"The thestrals pull the carriages," Luna explained as if to a child.
"There's nothing there!"
"Something has to the pull the carriages," Luna said with perturbing logic. "Just because you cannot see a thing does not mean it does not exist. Take nargles."
"Luna," Ginny said, "why can't Hermione and Ron see it?"
"It's said that only those who've seen and understand death can see them," Luna said. "That's why they're so often associated with dark things. But they're actually quite gentle." With that, the young blonde waif climbed onto the carriage and started reading an upside-down edition of the Quibbler.
"That girl is so strange!" Hermione harrumphed. Then to Ginny and Harry, she said, "Can you really see it?"
Both nodded and thought of the werewolves who died at the 4 Privet Drive.
They eventually overcame their reluctance and climbed onto the carriage. As soon as the carriage was full, the thestrals started pulling the cart toward Hogwarts.
Harry noticed Luna's copy of the Quibbler had an article on Pettigrew. Craning his head to better see the up-side-down headline, he was surprised by what he read: "Ministry Officials knowingly allowed Pettigrew Escape to Prevent Naming of Names."
"Ignore it, Harry," Hermione said. "The Quibbler is known for printing nonsense."
"My father owns the Quibbler," Luna said without dropping the paper.
Hermione blushed. "Er, sorry."
Luna said nothing. Eventually, they made it to Hogwarts without further incidents. Harry helped Ginny down and they started into the castle. They were just past the courtyard when Professor McGonagall intercepted them. "Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, a moment, please."
With a nod from Harry for the rest to go on, the third and second year waited patiently for the head of house. When they were alone, McGonagall eyed them both closely. "You've had an eventful summer," she began. "Are you both quite all right?"
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said. Ginny nodded.
"I wanted to discuss your sleeping arrangements," McGonagall said. "Professor Dumbledore has informed me of some of what transpired over the summer. I understand you were sleeping together at the Burrow?"
Again, Harry and Ginny nodded.
McGonagall pursed her lips. "Very well. Professor Dumbledore mentioned the rooms for married students. However, given how young you are your parents and I believe it better for you to stay in the tower. Therefore the headmaster and I have converted a prefect's room for your use. It will be off the boy's dorms, for the simple reason that I shall not have a boy in the girl's dorms. The room will have its own lavatory." She looked each of them over with a very firm glare. "You are young yet, but I feel I should give you fair warning. Having your own room is a privilege that can just as easily be taken away. No other students this young have their own room. If I find you abusing this privilege in any way, there will be consequences."
"We understand, Professor," Harry said quickly.
McGonagall looked at Ginny.
"He said we understand," Ginny said.
"I wanted to hear you say it."
"You did."
Seeing the professor's lips purse, Harry quickly said, "Professor, if either of us say 'we' it's because we both agree. She's not trying to be…er, cheeky."
This time, Ginny's cheeks reddened, but she nodded firmly.
"Very well. Please join your housemates for the sorting."
They held hands until they reached the main doors. They're all going to know, Ginny thought.
Harry nodded.
She gripped his hand tighter, then let go. "Ready?"
"Ready."
Each took a deep breath and walked through the doors into the Great Hall. All at once, a hundred different conversations came to an end as the entire student body turned to stare at them.
Harry stopped as if struck by a brick wall. Ginny could feel his tension, and for the first time shared it. Through their bond, she realized that it was like this all the time for Harry, and she could feel how very much he hated it.
Whatever she hoped to gain by walking in like they did ceased to matter. She reached out, took Harry's hand, and led him through the barrage of stares to the Gryffindor table, where Ron and Hermione had saved a couple of seats between them.
She smiled with appreciation when she saw Percy and the twins all sitting nearby with their own circles, as if to be closer. They assumed their seats, and shortly after that the first years began pouring in.
As the sorting ceremony began, Ginny stared at the head table. Professor Snape sat staring at her.
No, not her. At them.
He's like that all the time, Harry said. He sent memories of Snape through the bond. The fact that in two years he had memories of so many unpleasant encounters was frightening.
As she sat staring back, though, she did not see hatred on Snape's face, or even contempt. She was only twelve, but Ginny always considered herself a decent judge of character, and what she saw on Snape's face looked much more like regret and pain than hatred.
The moment passed quickly as Snape turned to look at Hagrid. Only then did she realize Dumbledore had named the new professors. She knew about Remus, but had no idea that Hagrid had been named as the new Care of Magical Creatures professor.
Several of the Gryffindors stood to give the newly minted Professor Hagrid an standing ovation. Ginny couldn't help but smile when she saw the huge man try to surreptitiously wipe away a tear.
Wonder if Dumbledore's going to mention us, Harry thought.
"Doubt it," Ginny murmured aloud.
"Finally, I must make one last announcement," Dumbledore said. "In its on-going efforts to locate the escaped murderer Peter Pettigrew, the Ministry of Magic has seen fit to allow dementors away from Azkaban. These creatures may not enter school grounds directly, but will be nearby. I suggest you stay out of their way. These things will not differentiate between a convicted murderer and a student of Hogwarts. Now, let the feast begin!"
They ate their dinner in relative peace. However, Ginny was aware of speculative gazes from down the table and realized her former roommates were staring at her with predatory gleams in their eyes.
"Those girls are scary," Harry said aloud.
Hermione followed his and Ginny's looks. "Those are your roommates, right?"
"They were," Ginny said.
"Right, how's that gonna work?" Ron asked.
"A converted prefect's room," Harry said. "Professor McGonagall wanted us to stay in the tower."
"Well, that's okay, I guess." Suddenly, Ron's eyes bulged as he understood. "Prefects room? You mean—Harry, is she going to be in the boy's tower?"
"Honestly, Ron," Hermione said, "where else would they be? Boys can't even enter the girl's dorms."
"That is so not fair," Ron muttered.
"Just don't run starkers through the halls and you should be fine," Harry said.
At that moment he sent a memory of Ron doing just that during his first year when Seamus flicked a muggle plastic spider into his shower.
Ginny snorted pumpkin juice. "You didn't," Ron said, looking horrified.
"I think he did," Hermione said. She'd heard all about it in excruciating detail.
The laughter died and Ron's face darkened. Ginny felt the presence behind her and she and Harry both turned to see Malfoy standing, staring. Crab and Goyle were there, as were Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass.
"So it's true," Parkinson said, echoing Malfoy's earlier sentiment. The snub-nosed girl leered at Ginny, then at Harry. "Well, at least the whore he got was a pureblood. It could have been worse, Draco."
Ginny felt a flash of rage so hot and powerful it throbbed through her skull. She almost cried out in agony at it. Beside her, Harry shot to his feet, his face twisted by that same rage. The five Slytherins backed up, but it was too late. Harry's whole body shook as magic flared out without control.
The floor itself cracked with a resounding boom that silenced the rest of the hall. At the head table, Dumbledore and the rest of the staff stood in alarm.
Malfoy's and Parkinson's eyes widened briefly before Harry's body exploded in a wave of accidental magic so powerful it tossed all five of the Slytherin students across the hall. Pansy screamed once; Draco never stopped screaming. They slammed into the wall of the far side of the hall and crumbled to the flagstones in an unmoving heap.
Pomfrey was already running toward them with Snape at her heals. McGonagall and Dumbledore were rushing toward Harry, who was still shaking with anger that continued to hurt Ginny.
"Harry, please," she whispered. Desperately, she took his hand.
Like a switch, the rage and the magic disappeared. Harry stared down at the cracked floor in surprise, and then looked up at Ginny. "Gin?" he whispered. "I hurt you?"
His eyes rolled up into his skull. Almost immediately, the wave of magical exhaustion struck her as well, making her sway in her seat before Hermione steadied her. Harry, though, collapsed to the floor in a heap just as McGonagall arrived.
I'm going to be expelled. It was Harry's very first thought upon waking. His second thought was: I hurt Ginny.
He felt a hand in his, small yet strong. I'm not hurt, Harry. I'm right here.
Harry opened his eyes, and fought an urge to cry when he saw Ginny there, holding his hand. "Sorry," he whispered.
"For what?" Ginny asked. "That cow called me a name, and you defended my honor. Hard for me to be mad about that."
"I hurt you."
"You stood up for me," she said.
"I'm still going to be expelled."
"Perhaps, but not today, Mr. Potter."
Harry sat up, only now becoming aware of the Headmaster standing at the foot of his bed. Professor McGonagall was actually sitting in a seat across from Ginny. "Were…did I hurt anybody?"
"You hurt Hogwarts herself more than any of her students," the Headmaster said. "Fortunately, the old girl is strong enough. The damage to the Great Hall has already been put right. Mr. Malfoy and his friends were released this morning."
"Morning?" Harry looked around and saw early sunlight shining through the windows. "I've been here all night?"
"We've been here all night," Ginny said.
"You strained your magical core, Mr. Potter," the headmaster said. "This is not a problem to be taken lightly."
"Am I…will I…?"
"Is he okay now?" Ginny asked.
"Oh yes. Our magical cores are often like human muscle. What strains them often makes them stronger. Your core, Mr. Potter, is very, very strong. Stronger, in fact, than it should be."
"So I am in trouble," Harry muttered.
"Posh," McGonagall said. "Being a strong wizard isn't enough to get you in trouble, Harry. Being reckless with the power, that is what will earn our ire."
"I don't understand…"
"Something happened to our magical cores when we bonded," Ginny explained. "When you pushed Draco away, I felt tired from it."
"It appears, Harry, that the bond you formed with Miss Weasley has had the unexpected side-effect of causing a significant power increase in both your cores. Has something like this ever happened before?"
Harry and Ginny both nodded. "We knocked Sirius Black down," Ginny said. "When we thought he was going to kill us. And we did my bat-bogey hex on one of the werewolves so strong it made its head explode." She looked at Harry. "Wonder if I could do that?"
"Perhaps," Dumbledore said. He did not comment on Ginny's use of 'we' for things Harry obviously did. He doubted either made a distinction any more. Instead, he conjured a comfortable-looking padded chair and sat in order to regard the two children carefully. "I understand you both also had an unfortunate encounter with a dementor aboard the train."
Both kids nodded.
"Harry," McGonagall said as she placed a small match on the table beside the bed, "can you please transfigure this match into a needle?"
"First year spell?" Harry asked, faintly insulted.
"Please humor me."
With a scowl, Harry flicked his wrist and pronounced the spell with precision sufficient for even Hermione not to complain. The matchstick disappeared in a flash, as did the table and a portion of the wall. The heat of the blast toppled McGonagall from her chair and nearly sent Harry flying into Ginny's waiting arms.
"Bloody hell!" Harry cursed, channeling for the moment Ron.
"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "If too much power is poured into it transfiguration, the results can be quite loud." He removed a matchstick from his robes and placed it on the floor in front of Ginny. "Miss Weasley, I understand you performed very well in transfiguration. If you please?"
With a worried glance at Harry, Ginny performed the spell, also perfectly. When the debris cleared, three stained-glass windows on the opposite side of the hall lay in shattered heaps on the floor, and where the matchstick lay was now a quarter-meter deep gouge in the flagstones.
"Well, how very interesting," Dumbledore said.
"Not as powerful as Harry's," McGongall said, "but definitely more powerful than normal."
"Er, professors, what does this mean?" Harry asked.
"It means, my dear boy, that neither you nor Miss Weasley are going to your transfiguration, charms or DADA classes until you've adjusted to your new power level. You've both experienced an unprecedented surge in your power, and in this state, you could both be dangerous."
"Why didn't we notice this before?" Harry asked.
"When have you performed magic this summer, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
The venerable old professor stood and smiled at them both. The familiar twinkle was there. "The issue with Mr. Malfoy and his friends has been resolved. Miss Parkinson clearly initiated the altercation. Accidental magic is normally not something that is to be punished. Starting tomorrow, I will resume your lessons personally."
"You, sir?" Harry asked.
"For those classes that have practical wand-work, yes. And since that issue is resolved, perhaps we can address a second concern of mine. Professor McGonagall, how would you say Miss Weasley's marks were last year?"
"Top of her year for her house, sixth among all first years behind four Ravenclaws, a Hufflepuff and one Slytherin," McGonagall said.
"Would you please assist the other professors in administering second year end exams for Miss Weasley?"
"Albus?"
Dumbledore was staying at Harry again with that twinkle. "I have a feeling that Miss Weasley will perform at least as well as Harry did on his exams last year. Given everything that has happened, I believe it would be beneficial for everyone if Miss Weasley were advanced a year to join Harry's year. Assuming, of course, she is able to pass her second year curriculum."
Ginny sat very still. "I could be in Harry's year? I could take arithmancy and ancient runes?"
"Does that mean I don't have to?" Harry said hopefully.
"No!" Ginny said. "You're not taking divination. You're too smart for that and you know it."
"What's this?" McGonagall said.
"Harry wants to change his schedule. He wants to take runes, arithmancy and care of magical creatures instead of divination."
McGonagall raised an eye-brow. "Arithmancy is a very challenging subject, Harry. I don't mean to imply that you could not do it, but I have observed that you study solely at Miss Granger's insistence."
Harry shook his head, and then shrugged with a weak smile. "She's the boss," he said, hitching a thumb to Ginny. "I've never been good at math, though."
"You were great at math, Harry, until you got beaten for getting a better grade than your cousin," Ginny hissed.
McGonagall paled a little then cleared her throat. "Well then, we'll adjust your schedules. Fortunately, neither of those classes have much practical wand-work in the first year, so they should be fairly safe."
"And for those hours you would ordinarily be in class," Dumbeldore said, "we will meet until such time as I believe your have sufficient control to return to your normal classes."
"Thank you, professor," Harry said.
Just after lunch, Ginny started an array of second-year final exams that Harry himself had taken just a few months before. He opened his mind completely to Ginny, recalling every lesson he could, and more precisely, the tests he took.
Ginny absorbed the information, not learning from him so much as simply sucking it up from his mind. He surprised himself on how much he remembered, and was not surprised at all when Ginny did well on all her exams, in some cases doing even better than Harry because of errors he himself made and corrected after the fact.
That night, Harry met her outside of the testing room and she wore a huge grin. "I'm going to be a third year," she whispered. "That means you can take me to Hogsmeade and buy me chocolate."
"What about me?"
"I'll buy you some too, but you'll have to give me some money first."
Harry couldn't help but laugh and took the young girl in a tight hug. "It's a deal," he said.
The two walked through the halls of the castle to the Gryffindor common room. As they stepped inside (Ginny knew the password) Harry realized this was the first time he'd been inside his own house that year. "Where is our room?" he asked.
Ginny took his hand and led him up the boy's stairs past the second year dorm to a set of rooms just below Professor McGonagall's quarters and office. They stepped in and Harry stared. The room was smaller than what he shared with Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean. But it looked larger because only one queen-sized bed occupied the space. Two large end-tables stood on either side of the four-poster. Two wardrobes stood on either side of the room, with two dressing areas cordoned off by curtains. A large double desk finished off the room.
The bathroom had two separate vanities, and the shower and water closet were in separate rooms entirely.
"It's perfect," Harry muttered.
"It's ours."
There was something strange in her voice. Through their link, Harry could feel both satisfaction and awe. Even a little excitement. He looked at her, the question hanging in his mind.
"It's our first home together," she tried to explain. "The two of us. Living like adults."
"Not quite like adults," Harry was quick to say.
"No, not like that. Maybe when were old we might think that way."
"Like when were twenty five."
"Yeah, old like that."
Harry nodded. Twenty five was old enough, he thought, to think about things like being married or being a couple together.
They had enough time before they started to think about things like that.