Harry's Ancient Runes homework was giving him a headache behind his right eye; it throbbed with increasing intensity. He did not know whether this was due to the effects of studying the ancient mode of writing, or the fact that he'd gotten very little sleep the night before. But they weren't just studying it anymore. As Professor Octavius had warned the year before, the class had grown increasingly difficult. Now they were expected to use the spells they were learning in their other classes.

Harry took off his glasses for a moment and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. Why didn't Hermione tell us about this last time? He asked himself. He wished he'd had some inkling that the class would kick his arse. Not that it hasn't helped, he admitted grudgingly. Professor Octavius had told them that their skills would increase; and they had. In his weaker moments, Harry just wasn't sure if it was worth it.

He groaned and stared down at the rune – cut into a block of wood – again. It meant 'to summon' (although, as Harry had learned, runes could mean several different things) and he was to practice his Summoning Charm while he looked at it. He did not really understand what this was to accomplish; his efforts thus far did not appear to do anything. He'd Summoned a few bottles of ink, a cushion from an armchair, and Crookshanks with ease, but that was nothing new. And now he had to write half a foot about the supposed changes.

"Accio bag," Harry said wearily, pointing his wand at Hermione's over-flowing bag. It zoomed toward him.

"Still haven't figured it out?" Hermione said smugly. She'd had an epiphany about an hour ago, and had already filled an entire scroll.

"No," Harry said grumpily. "There's no difference! Professor Octavius hates us, I'm certain of it…"

"So does Trelawney," Neville groaned. "Stupid dream diary. I never even remember my dreams; how does she expect me to make predictions?"

"Just make them up," Harry advised him. "Predict your own death every day… she'll give you full marks for that."

Hermione looked scandalized. "Don't listen to him, Neville! Besides, you should've dropped Divination, like I did. What a useless class…"

"I couldn't," Neville said sadly. "I didn't have another class to keep my schedule full. My Gran would kill me if she thought I wasn't taking my education seriously. I wish I'd taken Ancient Runes…"

"No, you don't," Harry told him. "The pain isn't worth it, trust me." That reminded him of that stupid rune the professor had made him draw at the end of last term. It felt like it was haunting him; he saw it in his dreams. He couldn't remember the dreams, but he woke up feeling strangely sad; sometimes he had to blink away the vision of the lightning bolt nestled among other strange patterns.

"Muggle Studies, then," Neville said. He lowered his voice, "you could've warned me that Divination would be terrible!"

"We tried to get you to join us," Harry pointed out. "You're the one who – oh, never mind. I'll help you with the dream diary… I can't do anything about Ancient Runes – unless Hermione wants to tell me what it is she's figured out?" He looked at her hopefully.

She grinned and shook her head. "I know it's awful of me," she said. She did not appear to care very much; Harry could not help but notice that her eyes sparkled with glee. "But I'm rather enjoying the fact that there are some things you don't know."

"Thanks," Harry said sarcastically, though he smiled back at her. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself." He understood that, while Hermione was jesting a little, there was also truth to what she said. It had been Ron that had pointed this out long ago.

"If she's not angry that we lied to her," Ron said, "she'll probably feel insecure that we're better at magic than she is."

Harry glanced at Ginny uncertainly. It was true. When they sent their memories back, they would have all the skills and knowledge that they had accumulated over the years. Harry had not quite thought of it this way; he was so used to just assuming that Hermione was better than them – except in certain cases – that it hadn't even crossed his mind that this might no longer be the case.

"She'll still be smarter than we are," Ginny said. "Intelligence and skill are two different things."

They had planned to reassure Hermione at every turn that they needed her bright mind; but Harry's and Ron's difficulties with Ancient Runes did that for them. It also helped that Hermione almost daily witnessed the fact that Harry had to struggle to be able to perform the advanced defensive (and offensive) magic that she had ordered him to learn.

"Harry?" Neville said. "Do you think I should die from falling out a window on the first day of the month, or the second?"

"I'd work your way up to the bigger tragedies," Harry advised him. "Start off a bit smaller… like maybe you'll have your leg cut off, or, I dunno, get trapped in quicksand."

"We're practicing again tonight," Neville said. "And Ron said he wants to learn that quicksand spell."

"See?" Harry said, beaming. "It might even be true!"

Neville laughed. They spent the next hour inventing increasingly unlikely tragedies. Harry could not fully enjoy it; last time around, it had been him and Ron that had faked their way through an assignment. They weren't taking Divination again, but still… it would be nice to have a laugh with his best mate (and brother-in-law) in the common room.

"Harry," Hermione nudged him. She was watching him carefully, and Harry suspected that she knew that his mood was shifting. "I want you to watch something," she said.

"Er," Harry said. He was glad that she did not try to talk about Ron and Ginny and the situation with the Weasleys, but felt like it was an explosion waiting to happen. She had become increasingly upset in the last few weeks, ever since the dragon task and Harry sometimes thought that she would hex the twins. He glanced over at where Fred and George were sitting, heads together, obviously trying to figure out how to collect their gold from Ludo Bagman. Was she going to jinx them right now?

"Don't worry," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to do anything rash. But if they say one more thing…"

"At least they're only talking about me putting my name in the Goblet of Fire," Harry said quietly. "They aren't even being mean." This was perfectly true; Fred and George, though annoyed that Harry had gotten past the age line when they had sprouted beards, seemed to have regained some respect for Harry. Harry thought the scene with the Malfoys in the Top Box had something to do with it. George had broken the months of silence the other day to ask, stiffly, if he'd thought about joining the Quidditch team next year.

Hermione snapped her fingers right in front of her eyes. "Watch that ink bottle over there," she ordered. She then placed her wand on the table. She held up her own rune, and focused on it. "Accio ink!" The small bottle jumped toward her a little, and toppled over.

Harry gaped. "Wandless magic?"

Hermione smiled. "You know it's possible."

Of course Harry knew it was possible, but they weren't to learn even the basics of it until their seventh year NEWT level classes. Harry, who had left after his sixth year to hunt Horcruxes, had never learned it. "So," he said, "that's what knowing runes can do? You can learn to use magic without a wand?"

"It's one of the reasons why runes are important to learn," Hermione said. "But it's tremendously difficult. And the more difficult spells are almost impossible. From everything I've heard, wandless magic is useful… but only up to a point. You've got to really be focusing on it. Frankly, using a wand is so much easier."

"But if you're ever without a wand…" Harry let his voice trail away. He began practicing again with renewed vigor. The first few times he tried it, nothing happened. The headache built again, but he ignored it. The third time he whispered "Accio ink," he saw it move.

"Very good, Harry," Hermione said. "But you've got to write the essay now; we're meeting tonight, remember?"

"I really wish I'd taken Ancient Runes," Neville said mournfully.

Hermione shrugged. "Like I said, spells are a lot stronger when you've got your wand with you."

"But still," Neville said. "I reckon it's useful."

Harry ignored the argument for the most part, though he found himself listening to Hermione, and using her words to flesh out his essay. He thought she might suspect what he was doing, because whenever he stared down at it in silence, thinking about what he would write next, she would then tell Neville something else.

"I'm done!" He finally said, so loudly that several first years near him jumped out of their seats.

"And about time," Hermione said, glancing down at her watch. "We were supposed to meet – er – Luna five minutes ago!"

They packed up their bags, and hurried through the portrait hole. Harry, who was always aware of when Ginny was in the room, was glad that she and Ron were somewhere else. Preoccupied though the twins were with their financial problems with Ludo Bagman, they would not have failed to notice all five of them leaving within minutes of each other.

Harry paused for a moment to place the Disillusionment Charm on himself.

"Why do you still do that?" Hermione asked waspishly.

"Habit," Harry shrugged.

Ron, Ginny, and Luna were waiting for them by the time they skidded to a halt, threw open the door, and entered the room. Harry immediately focused on Ginny, and his eyes narrowed with concern. She was very pale, and her eyes were huge with worry, though he had no idea why. He looked over at Ron and felt his stomach drop. Ron looked just as afraid as Ginny.

"What's wrong?" he said sharply. He broke the enchantment so he would become visible again.

"Nothing," Ginny said shakily. She was lying.

"Is it your parents?" Harry asked. "Have they found out that you and Ron are still hanging out with me?"

"No," Ron said. The tips of his ears were bright red. "It's nothing, Harry."

"You're lying!" Harry said incredulously. "You think I can't tell when you're lying? I've known you for twenty years!"

Hermione, Neville, and Luna all looked at each other nervously. Harry's brows slammed together. The looks on their faces told him that whatever was wrong with Ron and Ginny, they knew it too.

"Listen," Ron said when Harry glowered at him. "It isn't anything you need to worry about."

Harry continued to glare at him for a few more moments. He had a strong suspicion that this was about the Weasleys. He glanced at Ginny, and decided that whatever it was, he didn't particularly want to know. Despite the fact that he'd promised himself (repeatedly) to stop worrying about it, they kept cropping up in his thoughts. Like when he'd hexed Malfoy in the corridors for tormenting a few first years, he'd wanted to have a laugh about it with the twins. And when he'd had a huge row with Sirius about breaking into Azkaban, he'd wanted to talk to Arthur and Molly… they would've helped him persuade Sirius that it was the wrong thing to do, it was too dangerous.

"All right," Harry said finally.

Ron looked uncertain, as if he could not believe that Harry would give it a rest. "Good," he said. The silence swelled uncomfortably for a few moments, and Harry could see that Ron was casting around, trying to think of a way to break it. "Er – good – nice Disillusionment Charm. Why didn't you use your cloak, though? Just practicing?"

Shit. "Er," Harry said. He did not know how he could get away from this; he did not want to tell an outright lie to either Ron or Ginny, he felt bad enough for not telling them sooner.

"Harry hasn't used his cloak all year," Neville said. Ron and Ginny had not been around him enough in the corridors to know this, which was why they had not noticed it missing. "He's been using that charm instead."

"Why?" Ginny asked quietly. "If you have the cloak, why Disillusion yourself?"

Harry was cornered, and he knew it. He took a deep breath. "The cloak… it went missing at the end of last year. I left it on the shore of the lake when Pettigrew and the dementors turned up, and when I went back for it, it wasn't there."

"WHAT?" Ron roared. "WHAT'RE YOU TALKING ABOUT, IT WASN'T THERE?"

Hermione, Neville, and Luna all jumped back. They did not understand why this was of such vast importance. Harry couldn't even look at Ginny.

"It wasn't there," Harry repeated.

"Look at me, Harry Potter," Ginny said. She was furious. "When, exactly, were you going to tell us this?"

"He obviously wasn't going to, Ginny," Ron's face was bright red with anger.

"Yes, I was!" Harry said loudly. They both glared at him. "I was, I promise," he said.

"Right," Ron said. "Although I bet you were just waiting for us to work it out by ourselves. And I think I know when – when—"

"NO!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE GOT IT WRONG!"

"THEN EXPLAIN WHY THIS IS THE FIRST I'VE HEARD OF IT!" Ginny screamed at him. "IF YOU WERE ACTUALLY PLANNING ON TELLING US, YOU WOULD'VE DONE IT ALREADY!"

"I was hoping to tell you after I'd found it again," Harry said fiercely. It wasn't even fully a lie. He'd planned on looking for it, hoping he'd find it again.

"What are you doing to find it?" Ron asked.

"How are you going to find an invisibility cloak?" Ginny bit off.

"It won't work correctly for anyone who isn't a Potter," Harry said. "You know that—"

"So what were you planning to do?" Ron said scathingly. "Walk around with your wand out, saying 'Accio invisibility cloak' all the time?"

"No," Harry glared at him. "I think whoever conjured the Patronus that allowed Pettigrew to escape took it. It only makes sense. When we catch Pettigrew again, I plan on getting him to tell us who helped him. When we figure that out, we'll figure out who has the cloak."

"Er," Neville said. "Anyone care to explain what this is about?"

Harry stared at Ron and Ginny warningly for a moment. "The invisibility cloak was crucial to the… defeat of Voldemort last time." He was grateful that Ron and Ginny did not refute his words.

"And what if we don't find it?" Ginny looked at him; she was still angry, but she was also very afraid for him and his safety.

"We will," Harry promised. The weight of another secret – the fact that the Resurrection Stone had been destroyed by Fiendfyre – was extremely heavy. But he would not, could not tell them. Not until Hermione found a way to help him survive the Killing Curse again.

"You're damn right about that," Ron said. "I don't care if we have to overturn Britain to find it."

"But why is Harry's cloak so important?" Hermione asked. "Can't you just buy another invisibility cloak? I know they're expensive, but if we really need one it's worth it."

"The cloak is special," Harry said. "It doesn't just keep the wearer invisible, it keeps him hidden. It was passed down through my family… only the rightful owner can really use it."

"We're going to find it," Ginny said suddenly. Harry was both surprised and gratified that she came up and put her arm around his waist. He drew her closer. "I don't care what it takes," she murmured for his ears alone.

Harry caught her and Ron exchanging a glance.

"We've decided to forgive you," Ron said after a moment. "But you'd better tell us if something else like this happens in the future."

Harry nodded, not feeling guilty because the Resurrection Stone had been destroyed several years ago. He cocked his head at Ron, wondering why he'd gotten over his anger so quickly. He was certainly grateful for it, but it wasn't like his best mate to forget something like this so quickly.

Before he could mention this, Ron looked away. "Listen… about the Yule Ball," he eyed Hermione hopefully, "you're still coming with me, right?"

She smiled. "I said yes the first time you asked, didn't I?"

Harry snorted at the memory. Ron had rushed up to Hermione in the common room immediately after the Yule Ball had been announced, tripped over his own feet, sprawled on the ground, and had asked her to go to the ball with him. He'd tried not to laugh, he really had, but the fact that everyone else who had witnessed his rather bumbling efforts had been rolling on the floor had been too much. Hermione, who had looked both pleased and bemused, had immediately said yes.

Harry wondered if Hermione knew that her future self and Ron had been married. By the softness in her eyes whenever she looked at Ron – even at his clumsiest – he suspected that she might have guessed.

Ron shrugged, trying – without much success – to look casual. "Thought you might've – er – gotten a better offer."

Harry grinned down at Ginny. She returned it a little weakly.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "From whom?"

"I dunno," Ron said. "Viktor Krum, maybe?"

"Viktor Krum?" Hermione said, shocked. "Really? I went with Viktor Krum to the Yule Ball last time? Why?"

"Ron didn't notice you were a girl until after you'd already accepted Krum's invitation," Ginny informed her. Luna laughed.

"But – Krum hasn't even asked me," Hermione said. "Not that I'd go with him—"

"Krum's probably heard all about how you and Ron are going together," Neville told her. "Ron's been bragging about it for weeks."

"Is that why he doesn't come to the library anymore?" she asked thoughtfully.

"Damn straight," Ron said darkly.

"Harry," Ginny said. "We've just seen Snape – he's agreed to give us the Polyjuice Potion so we can go together. I'll just be disguised as someone else."

Harry grinned. "Good," he brushed her lips with a kiss. "If he hadn't, I wouldn't have gone at all. Who are you going as?"

"Me," Luna said dreamily. "I'll be Ginny and go with Neville."

"Is this a plan?" Harry said. "I mean – you lot have already thought of this?" He hadn't heard a word of it. Instead, he'd debated as to whether or not he should just take Ginny, her family be damned, or whether he should just hide in the common room, and the other three champions could dance around with their dates without him.

"Of course we have," Ginny said.

"First I've heard of it," Ron said at the same time. Neville shook his head.

"Well," Hermione said. "It's something us girls have thought about, at any rate. Now that we've all gotten into a fight – well, you three did – and decided on our dates for the Yule Ball, can we please get to practicing magic?"

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

It was probably one of the strangest experiences in Harry's life. He whispered that in Ginny's ear before the champions and their dates were to enter the Great Hall. Except… she didn't look like his wife; she looked like Luna. He felt slightly disoriented whenever he glanced at her.

"Let me get this straight," Ginny said. It was Luna's mouth talking, but Ginny's tone of voice and inflection that came out. "Of all the strange things you've done – not least of which is traveling time – this is the strangest? Me, looking like Luna?"

"You want me to use Polyjuice to turn myself into Ron?" Harry retorted. "Luna's like a sister to me. Seeing you in her is driving me barmy."

Ginny looked slightly revolted. "I see what you mean," she admitted. "I take it we'll never… play with Polyjuice Potion?"

Harry gaped at her. "What do you mean play with Polyjuice Potion? Do people… do they actually do that?"

She laughed. "Some couples, I think."

"Not us," Harry said fervently.

"Definitely not," Ginny said, equally serious.

They had no more chance to continue the discussion, as the doors opened to the Great Hall. Harry watched as Krum and a very pretty, but simpering girl entered first. He looked very surly, and Harry suspected that his date was far less satisfactory than Hermione. Fleur Delacour entered next with her date… it was odd, seeing her with another man besides Bill. He realized, with a jolt, that at this point in his life (at only fourteen), he already knew most of his future sisters-in-law. Cedric and Cho followed next, beaming and holding hands.

"Ready?" Harry asked, offering his arm.

"Of course," Ginny said, taking it.

They walked in together amidst wild cheering. The students at Hogwarts definitely enjoyed a spectacle. Harry's eyes found Ron and Hermione, and Neville and Luna. He only faltered a little bit at the oddness of seeing Luna in Ginny. He hoped no one else recognized it, although he rather thought that no one would.

Ron let out a loud whistle, and Ginny laughed.

They made their way through the throng of clapping students to the Head Table. Harry faltered again when he saw the judges: Madame Maxime, Igor Karkaroff, Ludo Bagman, and Albus Dumbledore sat together with… Percy Weasley.

He exchanged wide-eyed looks with Ginny. "I forgot!" he said. How could he possibly have forgotten this? He watched with horror as the other champions and their dates filled the table, leaving only two places next to Percy.

"You're going to have to sit next to him," Ginny said in a quiet voice. "I just… I just can't."

Harry gritted his teeth, already bracing himself as he made his way to their seats. Maybe it won't be bad… remember he didn't say anything when he saw us hugging… and he probably won't even see beyond Luna's face to Ginny… He took as long as he could; he pulled Ginny's chair out for her, and exchanged pleasantries with Cedric. Finally, he could no longer avoid it, and he sat down.

"Hello, Luna," Percy said. "Hello, Harry."

"Hi, Percy," Ginny and Harry chorused.

"I'm not going to hex you, Harry," Percy said.

"Er," Harry replied. "Thanks?"

"It is a Ministry occasion, after all," he said pompously. "I've got to uphold appearances."

Harry looked at him; that seemed a bit much, even for Percy. He was smiling, though, and it wasn't one of his fake smiles, either. It was a bit mischievous; it would have been more at home on Fred's or George's face. Percy was teasing him. Harry wondered vaguely when was it, exactly, that the world had turned upside down. Was it the day they'd come back? Later? Earlier?

"Glad to hear it," Harry said. "Er – how's the Ministry working out for you? Are you one of the judges now?"

"The Ministry is wonderful," Percy said. "And – no, I'm not a judge. My boss is feeling ill, so he asked me to represent him here tonight. It's actually nice to be back at Hogwarts, although I'm quite pleased to be here as an adult, not a student."

"That's great," Harry said. "You seem to have done really well for yourself if Mr. Crouch is letting you stand in for him."

"I think I've proven myself capable of it," Percy puffed his chest out. "I'm not afraid to back down from hard work, and I expect Mr. Crouch knows that."

"It would seem so," Harry agreed. And because he didn't want Percy to stop talking to him – it felt ridiculously good to talk to a Weasley apart from Ron and Ginny that did not seem to hate him – he added, "what is it you do at the Ministry, precisely?"

Percy embarked on a long-winded explanation of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Harry listened carefully, and asked pointed questions. A plan began to form in his mind… perhaps it would be Percy who chose to fight with Harry against Voldemort. If he were to join the Order of the Phoenix, he could be extremely useful. Not only could Percy make contacts, but he was sharp, and perhaps he could keep an eye out for traitors in the Ministry itself.

Ginny, beside him, joined in the conversation, and they were halfway through their meal before it dwindled. She pressed her hand on Harry's thigh.

"You're being very friendly," she said. "I thought all the Weasleys hated Harry." It was an odd mixture of Ginny's tone and Luna's bluntness.

Percy flushed bright red. "Well – I – er," he stammered. "I think… well, my sister."

"Yes?" Ginny said sweetly. He glanced at her sharply, and Harry held his breath. Had Percy recognized Ginny after all?

"I don't approve of what happened, not at all," Percy sat up straighter. "But everyone else thinks that Harry – er – you took blatant advantage of her. And I was quite, quite furious at first. Ginny was only twelve, you see."

Harry flushed, and stared down at his half-eaten meal. He suddenly felt mortified. He glared at Ginny out of the corner of his eye. She pretended not to notice, but Harry knew that she was just as aware of him as he was of her. Perhaps it was payback for not telling her about the invisibility cloak…

"I think they both were in error," Percy said finally. "I have tried to tell my family this, but they simply won't listen."

"Harry, didn't you tell me that they think you're going to be another Voldemort?" Ginny asked. Percy squeaked, and dropped his fork.

"They think he might, yes," Percy said once he'd recovered himself. Harry was not really capable of speaking at the moment. "Which is completely ludicrous."

Harry jerked his head around so quickly that his glasses nearly slid off. "You don't believe that, then?"

"Only my parents and Bill and Charlie are afraid of that happening," Percy said. "Fred and George just think you messed around with my sister. And, Harry, it's not like they're dead certain of it. They just think it's a risk."

"But you don't?"

Percy eyed him. "You took a curse for me. That isn't exactly something a dark wizard would do."

Harry would have liked to say more, possibly even confess everything to Percy, but his throat felt very tight. When he could breathe normally again dessert had arrived and the moment seemed to have passed. Ginny fidgeted around and elbowed him.

He looked over at her. "What?"

"Nothing," she whispered. "Didn't mean to, sorry." She withdrew the flask that contained Polyjuice Potion, and took a long drink.

"Not a fan of butterbeer, Luna?" Percy asked.

"Not at official functions," Ginny replied; her voice was so dreamy and like Luna's that Harry grinned. "Nargles like to… you know, infest it. It'll make people act even crazier than normal."

"Not a good plan when this lot"—Harry gestured at the vast crowd of students—"are all together." He made a show of setting his own butterbeer aside. "You're right, Luna," he added.

Percy stared between Harry and Ginny for several uncomfortable moments. Harry started to sweat. Why can't the dancing start now?

As if Dumbledore had heard his desperate thoughts, he stood. Harry immediately focused all of his attention on him with a feeling of great relief. He snorted when he remembered how terrified he'd been before when it was Parvati Patil he had taken to the Yule Ball and not Ginny. But that was then, and right now he wanted to escape from Percy.

The first time he had danced with Ginny (at Ron's and Hermione's wedding), they had moved together like they had been born to it. This was long after they'd been as fully intimate as they could, and dancing was something that came almost as naturally as breathing. It had been wonderful, marred though it had been by the fact that Harry had wished that it was their own wedding.

This was not like that. Once they were on the dance floor, Harry felt as awkward as he had dancing with Parvati. He suddenly had two left feet, and he had no idea where to put his hands. He knew where they would be if it was Ginny's real body, but he couldn't ignore the fact that it was Luna's he held so tentatively.

"I'm really quite flattered," Ginny murmured.

"Don't," Harry said. "I'm making a fool of myself." He glanced over and saw Ron laughing at him. Even Hermione was laughing at him. He glared at them.

"At least I know you'll never stray," Ginny said.

"You already knew that," he retorted.

"Of course," she said.

He groaned when he stepped on her foot. "I'm sorry!"

"Harry," she said. Luna's blue eyes gazed back at him. "Close your eyes."

"Somehow, I don't think that'll help," he said. But he obeyed her anyway.

She didn't say anything as they muddled through another few steps. She was steering him around, though, since he couldn't see anymore. "Always and always," she finally said. "I promise to love you without reservation – even when I'm in Luna's body. I promise to love and cherish you. I will mourn with you and laugh with you"—Harry started to relax when he realized that she was repeating the wedding vows they had made to each other so long ago on a hill covered in heather—"When you grieve, I will grieve. When you feel joy, I too will feel it."

"I'll grow with you," Harry whispered against her hair. With his eyes closed, and hearing her say those words, he could pretend that Ginny looked the way she ought to. "With my mind, my spirit, and my magic. In all ways, I will walk beside you."

"Through the dark and the light, joy and sorrow," Ginny said. Her voice shook a little, and Harry pulled her closer. "I will comfort you—"

"—cherish you—"

"—and honor and respect you."

"Always and always," they said together.

"Thank you," Harry said when the song ended.

"I think I should have added 'and I'll always save you from making a fool of yourself,'" Ginny added wryly.

"I'll remember that," Harry said. He opened his eyes. She was still looking like Luna (thankfully), but the bright, blazing look was all hers. "Want to keep dancing?" he asked, already whirling her around, in time to the faster tune.

Harry found that for the next little while he did not have to close his eyes at all. Ginny was still Ginny, and the body suddenly didn't matter. He enjoyed himself quite a bit more than he had expected; all he had to do was keep his eyes on her, and nothing else seemed to matter.

"Harry," she finally said, panting a little, when a very fast song ended. "I've got to… you know. Have a drink."

He grinned at her. "You do?"

"Yes," she said. "Unless you want me to suddenly turn back into myself."

"And what if I said," He whispered in her ear, "that we should escape right now and head to the Room of Requirement?"

"I'd say that's the best idea you've had all night," Ginny grinned up at him. "I'll go tell Luna."

Ten minutes later, they were alone. No one had noticed them leave, and the night of revelry and exuberance ensured that their absence would not be noticed. Harry stared intently at Ginny, waiting for her features to change.

"Kiss me, Harry," she smiled at him.

He shook his head. "I have my limits, and kissing you when you look like Luna is way past them."

It seemed to take forever, but gradually her hair went back to its normal deep red, and her eyes darkened to firewhiskey brown. Harry watched the changes intently, intrigued by them, wondering what it was about her that inflamed him so. Her hair, her eyes, her long, slim fingers, the length of her neck, the delicate ears… he finally came to the conclusion that it was all of it together.

"Kiss me, Harry," she said again, and Harry readily obeyed.

Afterward, they lay together in a tangle of limbs. Ginny rested her head on his chest, and he stroked her hair.

"Is it just me," Ginny said huskily, "or does it get harder and harder to stop? Not that this isn't wonderful, but…"

"We still have two hundred and thirty days until you turn fourteen," Harry told her. "Until then, we have to."

She sat up, grinning at him. "You're counting the days?"

"Of course," Harry said.

"For how long?"

"Several years," Harry said.

"Good," she lay back down. "I'm glad I'm not the only one. I've been counting since the day we got back."

And Harry couldn't help but kiss her again… and again… and again, until he'd had enough (for the moment) and felt his eyes grow heavy with a very pleasant sort of exhaustion. He traced patterns on Ginny's back for the joy of it, and to keep himself awake.

"We'd better go soon, bright eyes," he said finally. "We can't stay away from the common room much longer."

"It's only eleven," she said sleepily, after lazily checking her watch. "Let's stay until midnight."

"I'm going to fall asleep," Harry told her.

"I'll keep you awake," Ginny promised. "Not with that… I'm too tired. But I have a question for you."

"All right," he said.

"What happens if we don't find your cloak?" she asked.

"I really think we will, Ginny," Harry said seriously. "And even if we don't… I've been thinking quite a lot about this in the last few days. I think I'm going to have to tell Hermione that I'm a Horcrux."

"Why?"

"Because if we're going to look for other ways for me to beat him," Harry said, "we're definitely going to need Hermione's help."

"What about Dumbledore?"

"His, too," Harry said.

"I want you to promise me something," Ginny said. "I want you to swear to me right now that you'll look for another way to survive if we don't find that cloak."

"I will," Harry said.

"I know," Ginny said. "I just wanted to hear you say it. You know… I'm certain that we'll find it… or Hermione will be brilliant as usual and find out a cure for the Killing Curse."

"That sure about it, are you?"

"Yes," Ginny said. "Because I would've come back for you."

Harry pulled her tight against him, and she embraced him back just as fiercely. No words were needed.

Harry was about to open his mouth to tell her how much he loved her, when a shining Patronus appeared in the room.

"Rookwood is here. Come to my office." It said with Dumbledore's voice.

"What the—" Harry said. He scrambled into motion, and back into his dress robes. Ginny did the same. He performed the Disillusionment Charm on both of them, and they sped out of the room and thundered down the corridor. Within moments, they stood before the gargoyle.

"Pumpkin pasties," Harry said to it, and it sprung aside.

Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna were already there, though it was apparent that they had just arrived. Luna still looked like Ginny, although she had wispy blond streaks in her hair. They stood in his way, and Harry could not see around them.

"How did Rookwood get here?" Harry asked, though he had a good guess.

Ron looked at him. He appeared slightly uneasy, and he stepped aside so Harry could see who else was in the room. Dumbledore stood directly in front of a man, who had apparently been Stunned, with his wand pointed straight at him. Beside him was Sirius; he was wrapped in a black traveling cloak and looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"I went and got him, of course," Sirius said.

"I told you not to!" Harry said, outraged. "Damn it, Sirius! Do you realize what could have happened to you?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "I knew perfectly well. I just did it anyway."

Harry whirled on his friends. "You knew about this! That's why you've been worried all week. I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"Like you told us about the cloak?" Ron said. "Listen, remember how we forgave you right away? It's your turn, mate."

Harry glared at him. They had gone behind his back to do this. They had obviously collaborated with Sirius, Dumbledore, and probably even Snape; they'd ignored the fact that Harry had wanted to think of another way, a way that would not involve putting his godfather at such terrible risk.

Remus caused a slight diversion by exiting rather suddenly from the Floo.

"Were you in on this too?" Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "Did you know that Sirius was going to break into Azkaban?"

"No," Remus said coolly. "Not until a few moments ago, anyway."

Harry moved to stand beside him, glad that he had one ally. He folded his arms and glared at everyone. Everyone except Ginny; he couldn't quite bring himself to do that to her. What they had done and said in the last few hours was still too fresh for him to be angry with her.

Unfortunately, Ron seemed to realize this, so he motioned her forward. "You deal with him."

"Harry," Ginny said calmly. "I want you to take a good look around this room."

He did, and felt another stab of anger when he saw Sirius and Rookwood.

"Do you see Sirius?" she asked. "I'm beginning to think you can't."

"Of course I can see him," Harry said.

"Does he look dead? Or like he's been Kissed?"

"No," Harry said begrudgingly, knowing where she was going with this. "That doesn't mean anything, though. He could have—"

"But he didn't," Ginny interrupted him impatiently. "He got in, he got out, and now he's brought Rookwood. You should be thanking him," she said firmly. "And more – you should thank us, since you didn't have to brood about it for the last week."

"Fine," Harry sighed. "Thank you, Sirius – but if you ever do something like this again I'll – I'll—"

"Stammer at me?" Sirius asked. "Harry, if you think I'm not going to do risky things to help you defeat Voldemort, you're dead wrong. You aren't in this alone."

Harry clenched his jaw. "Fine," he muttered again. "But stay away from veils."

The door opened again, and Snape strode in. "I've got the Veritaserum," he said. "And I've also done the enchantments to make them look as though they are in their beds."

"Disappointed that I didn't die?" Sirius asked cheerfully.

"No," Snape said absently. "You've got Rookwood. I didn't want you to die before you did that."

Sirius laughed. "If it turns out that he did know of the prophecy," he pointed out, "I just saved your arse."

Harry felt grudgingly curious. "How did you manage it?"

"Flew on a broom to Azkaban, transformed, snuck into his cell, and used the Portkey that Dumbledore made to get me back to Grimmauld Place," Sirius said easily, as if there had been nothing to it.

"Why not come straight here?" Harry asked. "Why go to Grimmauld Place?"

"We couldn't be sure exactly when I'd do this," Sirius said. "We thought it best if I took him there first, in case Dumbledore was meeting with someone. I'm actually a little early… I thought I'd have more trouble getting past the guards… the wizards, not the dementors."

"Can we save this chat for later?" Snape said irritably.

"By all means," Sirius gestured.

"Ready?" Dumbledore asked. At Snape's nod, he said "Ennervate!"

Rookwood's eyes flew open, and he immediately began to struggle. Harry was brought back to two years prior, when Wormtail had been in this exact same room, and in this exact condition. Rookwood, however, was far weaker than Wormtail had been. The bonds around him were very tight, and his movements feeble. He stopped resisting after moments, and as soon as he had, Snape poured the clear liquid into his mouth.

"What is your name?" Snape asked.

"Augustus Rookwood," he said. "Pureblood follower of the Dark Lord."

"We don't need to listen to that drivel," Sirius said.

"Do you know of the prophecy made about Harry Potter and the Dark Lord?" Snape ignored Sirius.

"Yes," Rookwood said, "all of it."

Harry's entire body relaxed. It was Rookwood. He'd been right. He'd just confessed to it under Veritaserum. He exchanged relieved glances with Ron, and resolved to apologize to Sirius for his reaction.

"The Dark Lord is going to reward me," he said. "Beyond my wildest dreams – and he'll kill you, traitor," he said scathingly to Snape.

"Not," Snape said, "if I kill you first."

"Did you tell anyone else of this?" Dumbledore asked.

"No," Rookwood said, "didn't want to share!"

Rookwood laughed; it was a harsh, whooping sound that sent chills up Harry's spine. This man had played a long, subtle game with the intent to ruin absolutely everything. Yet Harry found himself not wanting to kill him in cold blood.

"Reward me," he said again. "He's going to reward me. I'll be his… best servant… the most loyal…" His eyes closed again, though this time he had not been Stunned.

"I believe we have what we need to know," Dumbledore said. "He did know of the prophecy, and he did not tell anyone."

Harry stared down at Rookwood. He seemed very weak. The dementors had taken almost everything from him, and it had left him almost a hollow shell. Even Sirius had not been quite as afflicted as this… because he had been innocent in a way that Rookwood obviously had not been.

"Dispose of him how you see fit," Harry said finally, looking at Snape, Sirius, Remus, and then Dumbledore. "Kill him if you judge it best, but make sure that he's silenced. If you leave him alive, make sure that what happened here tonight is buried so deep that Voldemort will never find it."