This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokémon, which belong to the Pokémon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.
I thank both Rowling and the Pokémon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.
The party in the Gryffindor Common Room was typically raucous. Gryffindor winning was something they'd all got used to over the years but it never seemed to dampen the festivities after yet another victorious Quidditch match.
As always Harry tried to keep mostly out of it and, after surviving the initial wave of hand shakes and back slapping, he had found himself a nice resting place in the corner of the common room, where he was joined by Ron and Hermione.
Sitting there, soaking in the atmosphere as he relaxed after another exciting day, Harry felt contented.
"Hey there," Ginny arrived, walking round from behind Harry's couch. "Butterbeer?"
"Thanks," said Harry, accepting it gratefully. Ginny settled down into the couch next to him, somewhat closer than strictly necessary, though Harry certainly wasn't complaining, and clinked her bottle with his.
"Cheers."
"Cheers," said Harry, taking a drink of the cool liquid and revelling in the warm feeling that spread through him as it slipped down his throat. An empty bottle sat in front of him, his first drink of the afternoon, while Ron was already on his third.
Ginny finished her drink, placing it down on the table. "So, what are we talking about?"
"Quidditch," Harry and Ron said together. They shared a grin.
"We were just talking about the match," Harry explained. "Specifically how I should have played Jimmy. He was much better suited to the match than Dean was."
"Would you stop beating yourself up about that," Ron complained, looking annoyed. "We won, didn't we. So stop worrying about it."
"We only won because I caught the Snitch," Harry reminded him. "If I hadn't, or the Snitch had come out later, we could have lost."
"Well, that's not exactly surprising," Hermione commented. "Of course you were going to find it more difficult to score. Your Chasers barely have any experience at all, especially in comparison to the Slytherins."
"And they didn't play bad," Ginny piped up. "The score was still quite close."
"Yeah, but what I'm saying is that it would have been easier for them if I'd played Jimmy," Harry reiterated. "Braviary was the perfect Pokémon to use against Slytherin. I just got too caught up worrying about Malfoy."
"Well then," said Ron. "That's Malfoy's fault, isn't it. For that matter what do you reckon happened to him. You don't think he really is ill?"
"Don't know," said Harry vaguely. He did not want to discuss what Malfoy was up to. "But even if he had played I should have focused more on what the team needed rather than myself. It was Anna's first game and I kind of threw her under the bus."
"Doesn't seem to have done her any harm," reasoned Ron. "The whole House loves her. They thought she was great. She was, too."
"I heard her speaking with that boy she's got a crush on," Ginny added with a mischievous smile. "You know, the brown haired kid. I'd say things have worked out."
"She looks like she could use a little help at the moment, though," said Hermione. The rest of them turned to look. Anna was standing across the common room talking to a couple of the older Gryffindor boys, the two fifth years laughing loudly, and it seemed as though she'd really rather be anywhere else.
"I'm on it," said Ron, placing his butterbeer down and standing up. "Save my drink." And he walked away. Hermione's eyes followed him.
"I should go, too," said Ginny, patting Harry on the leg as she stood up. "Someone needs to save Anna from Ron." And she walked off, tracking her brother through the crowded room.
Harry scooted over next to Hermione.
"So," he said, grin firmly in place. "You and Ron."
"What?" Hermione spluttered.
"What's going on?" Harry asked. Hermione's face coloured.
"That is none of your business," she told him hotly. "But if you really must know there is nothing going on. Ron and I are friends, as we always have been."
"Come on, Hermione," Harry complained. "I know you like him. You're not subtle."
"Like you and Ginny?" Hermione retorted.
Harry was taken aback.
"What?" He stammered. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You're not subtle," she parroted back to him. "Something's been up ever since the end of last year. At first I thought you'd had a falling out but then you seemed to make up, although even then you were still acting weird. And in the last couple of weeks, with the touching, and the looks, and the smiles, did you really expect me not to find out?"
Harry looked away guiltily.
"Sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't realise we were being so obvious." Hermione's expression softened.
"You're not that obvious," she admitted. "Just to me and people who know you as well as I do."
"There's not many people who know me like you," Harry told her. She smiled.
"So, how long are you planning on keeping this a secret?" She asked. "You know people will start figuring it out eventually."
"We haven't exactly got a plan," Harry admitted. "We just don't want to complicate things. We like how everything is going between us and we don't want to ruin it by getting other people involved, like her brothers."
"Like Ron?" Hermione concluded. Harry fell silent. "He's going to figure it out eventually, Harry. He's not that dense." Harry shifted.
"I know," he muttered. "I just… it's not an easy conversation to have."
"I understand," Hermione told him. "I really do. And I'm not going to pressure you. But Ron will find out. Just imagine how hurt he'll be if he doesn't find out from you."
Harry sighed tiredly. "I know."
Hermione gave his hand a comforting squeeze.
"For what it's worth I'm glad the two of you got together," she told him. "This is the most carefree I've seen you, Harry. Both of you, as a matter of fact, and it's clear to see why. I'm happy for you."
Harry smiled.
"You could have this too, you know," Harry told her, nodding off to where Ron and Ginny had wandered. "You could tell Ron tonight. Spirits are high, inhibitions lowered, you could have your chance to feel like this too."
Hermione gave him a soft smile. "I'm not quite there yet."
Harry understood.
"Then good luck," he told her. Hermione smiled.
"Thanks," she said. "And I think that's my cue to leave. I'm going to go up, maybe get some homework done before bed." She stood up.
"Okay," said Harry. "Goodnight, Hermione."
"Goodnight."
And she left and Harry found himself on his own. He sat back in his seat and sighed.
"Hey," Ginny greeted him with a smile. "Where's Hermione?"
"Her dorm," answered Harry. "What about you? Done saving Anna?" Ginny smiled.
"She's called it a night," she told him, moving to sit down next to him.
Harry stopped her.
"It's getting late," he said, rising to his feet. "You're not, perhaps, opposed to making an unobtrusive exit?"
Ginny grinned.
It was nearing curfew by the time the pair of them left the Gryffindor Common Room. The halls were all but silent and after about fifteen minutes, by which time curfew had truly fallen and no one should be out and about, Harry and Ginny felt comfortable enough in their privacy to hold hands as they walked the deserted corridors.
They wandered the castle halls for hours, talking about anything and everything that came to mind, enjoying the freedom they had to just be themselves, without worrying about the rest of the school watching.
Inevitably, the conversation turned to Quidditch.
"I cannot believe you don't think Gwenog Jones is the best Beater in professional Quidditch," Ginny told him, looking scandalised. "She's Gwenog Jones. She's made team of the year every single season she's been in the league."
"I'm not saying she's bad," Harry defended himself, though he couldn't hold back a smile at the impassioned look on Ginny's face. "I'm just saying that sometimes she's a bad matchup with opposing Beaters. Take the Tornados, for example. One of the reasons they keep winning the league is because they have a huge Beater advantage whenever they match up against the Harpies. Florges and Beartic as a combo is absolute death to Gwenog's Noivern."
"Well, I think you're wrong," Ginny told him stubbornly. Harry pulled her close.
"I think you're beautiful," he said, wrapping his arms around her. A smile crossed her face.
"Well, you might be right about that one," she murmured. Harry leaned in.
"Well, well, well," the sarcastic drawl caused the two of them to jump apart, turning in shock to the figure that stood only a few feet away. "What do we have here? Potty and the Weasel."
Draco Malfoy smirked.
"What do you want?" Harry snapped. His grip on Ginny's hand tightened reflexively and he stepped forward in an unconscious attempt to shield her. He was not in the mood to deal with Malfoy right now.
Malfoy looked surprised.
"Want?" he echoed back. "Oh, believe me, I've seen way more than I want to. In fact I'd rather not think about it at all. But, on the other hand, it will make quite a story to bring back to the Slytherin Common Room." His eyes glittered.
"Don't you dare," Harry warned furiously. "If you tell even one person about this I swear our deal is off."
Malfoy's eyes flashed.
"Quiet, Potter," he hissed, eyes turning to Ginny who remained silent, watching the exchange with wide eyes. His eyes narrowed. "What have you told her?"
Harry paused. He took a breath.
"Nothing," he said, his voice more even now. He shouldn't have lost his cool so easily. "I haven't told her anything. I've kept my word."
"A likely story," Malfoy snapped. "I can see it in her eyes. This is no surprise. She knows."
"She knows something's up because you dragged me into a compartment on the Hogwarts Express right in front of her," Harry reminded him, frustrated. "She's not an idiot. And she's asked about what went on, too, and I haven't told her. And you know what, if you were so worried about people finding out you wouldn't have skipped out on the match. Do you not realise how suspicious that was?"
Malfoy scowled. "Yes, Potter, I do, but considering my life is on the line you'll forgive me for not giving a damn about Quidditch or what anyone may think I'm up to." He huffed. "I'm doing what I can."
"And so am I," Harry shot back.
They fell silent, the very air around them seeming to crackle with energy.
Behind Harry Ginny continued to watch in silence.
"Sorry," Harry said eventually, regaining his composure. He let out a long breath. "I got… carried away." Malfoy snorted.
There was another long pause.
"I won't tell anyone," Malfoy said eventually. "You and Weasley… quite frankly I don't care. It's not interesting to me, I'd rather just forget. I won't tell anyone."
Harry nodded his thanks.
Malfoy's eyes fell on Ginny.
"What are you going to tell her?"
"The truth," said Harry. Malfoy's face twitched. "I can't lie to her. Even if I tried she wouldn't believe me, not after this."
Malfoy stayed quiet for a long moment. He didn't necessarily look angry. Instead he appeared to be studying Harry.
"You promise she won't tell anyone?"
Harry nodded.
"She'll keep your secret," Harry told him. "She'll keep it for the exact same reason I do."
Malfoy gave him a short nod. He paused.
"See you around, Potter," he said and he strode off.
As his footsteps faded into the distance Harry and Ginny found themselves alone once more, but their playful attitude had long since vanished.
Ginny turned to him.
"Harry?" She questioned. Harry looked at her. A heavy weight seemed to settle in his stomach. "What's happening?"
He took a breath.
"Not here," he told her, his voice soft as he looked around up and down the corridor. There was a door not far away, behind which lay a deserted classroom, and Harry quickly led her over, shepherding her inside as he closed the door behind them.
As he turned back he found Ginny standing in the centre of the room, watching him.
"What…?" She began but Harry held up a hand to stop her. He walked further into the room, pulling out a chair from one of the dusty old desks, gesturing for Ginny to do the same. Together they sat, silence continuing to fill the room.
Then Harry spoke.
"During Slughorn's party last year Malfoy asked me for a favour," he began, his eyes focusing down on the cold stone floor as he spoke. "He wanted protection for his mother, and wanted me to ask Dumbledore for it on his behalf. What I didn't know at the time, what Malfoy told me when we got back from the holidays, was that Malfoy had been given a special mission, a mission from Voldemort himself, to kill Professor Dumbledore."
A sharp intake of breath sounded but Ginny did not interrupt, and Harry did not look at her. After a quick breath he continued.
"That's what had Malfoy out so late tonight," Harry explained. "And why he missed the match. He's working on his plan, the plan he had ever since the start of term. And Dumbledore wants him to continue it."
"But why?" Ginny gasped and this time Harry couldn't help but look up. She looked pale, an anxiety on her face that told that she couldn't make sense of it. "Why would Dumbledore want Malfoy to try and kill him?"
"Because he's dying," Harry told her and his voice shook. He glanced away, swallowing thickly, before he continued. "Dumbledore's dying, Ginny. And he wants it to mean something."
There was silence at Harry's pronouncement. Ginny looked just as shocked as Harry had expected, her face pale as a sheet in the moonlight that slipped through the mullioned windows along the classroom wall. A sharp pain stabbed at Harry's chest. He wished he didn't have to tell her. He wished she didn't have to be burdened with it just like he had been ever since Dumbledore told him over a month ago.
"He's dying," Ginny whispered. Just the sound of her saying so sent a dagger through Harry's chest, driving the point home as if she had shouted. "He's really dying."
Harry nodded.
"And you haven't told anybody?"
Harry met her gaze.
"Malfoy knows," he whispered. "He had to, to be persuaded to continue with his plan. But no, I haven't told anybody else."
"Not even Ron and Hermione?"
"Not even them," Harry told her. He shuddered. "I… I could not bring myself to do it. I promised Malfoy my silence about his role in this but Dumbledore… Dumbledore would want me to tell them. I just can't."
Looking down Harry was caught by surprise as Ginny's hand reached out to touch his, her fingers lacing through his with soft, gently movements, and as Harry watched their intertwined fingers the barriers he'd put up to hold back his emotions began to falter. Everything he'd been fighting to hold back, the anger, the pain, the sheer lack of hope, welled towards the surface, and it was with a pained swallow that he forced the feelings from boiling over, closing his eyes tight against the pain and gripping Ginny's hand like a lifeline.
Slowly Ginny began to gently squeeze his hands, causing him to look up. She was staring back at him with soft, sorrowful eyes.
"You can't keep going on like this, Harry," she told him, leaning forward in her chair to push the message home and forced him to meet her gaze. "You can't keep trying to protect us from knowing things that might hurt. Ron and Hermione, they're your best friends, and I understand why you don't want to tell them about us but… but you need to tell them about Dumbledore. You need them to know. And they deserve it, too."
Harry sniffed.
"You're right," he told her, breathing deeply. "I know it's not fair. I'll tell them, just… just, promise me you'll be there with me. Please?" He looked up helplessly.
Ginny met his gaze, unblinking.
"Of course, Harry," she told him and she drew nearer, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close. "I'm not going anywhere."
Sometime later Harry and Ginny made it back to the Gryffindor Common Room. It was empty, all that remained of the wild party being the half empty bottles of butterbeer and left over party food. There was no one in sight.
Five minutes later that had changed. The two of them had parted ways, only to fetch Ron and Hermione respectively, and after much cajoling they joined them down in the common room, half asleep but curious.
The two of them sat side by side on the sofa, watching Harry as he stood before them.
Ron blinked blearily.
"Wha's goin' on?" He mumbled, squinting up at them.
"Oh," Hermione gasped, looking more awake than Ron and seeming to come alive in a moment. "Are you…?" She trailed off, her eyes darting between him and Ginny.
"No," Harry said quickly. Ginny glanced at him uncertainly. Hermione looked disappointed.
"I mean, yes," Harry corrected after a moment. "But not…" he took a breath. Might as well say it.
"Ginny and I are dating," he said eventually. He gently reached out and laced his fingers with her's, taking courage from her presence. "We've been seeing each other for two weeks."
There was a stunned silence.
"What!" Ron thundered. His face was red. "You're dating Ginny!"
"What of it?" Ginny snapped back immediately. "He can date whoever he likes."
"For two weeks!" Ron continued, ignoring her completely. "And you didn't say anything!"
"Ron, please, try and keep your voice down," Hermione murmured anxiously, glancing towards the dormitories. "You'll wake people up."
"And besides," said Harry, his voice quite dry. "You might want to save your outrage for later. There's plenty more for you to be mad about."
And so he told them. He told them about his first meeting with Malfoy, and then his second where Malfoy's mission became clear. He told them about who was responsible for the attack on Katie, told them about the poison that only through luck were they able to recover from Slughorn's office. He told them how he'd shared all of this with Dumbledore, how Dumbledore had already known about Malfoy's task, and how he had suggested Malfoy continue as he was. And then he told them of Dumbledore's terrifying fate.
A/N: And that's it for this chapter. In the next one we'll see just how Hermione and Ron react to the news.
To DelugeLeader 666: Nice spot. I didn't realise just how close I actually was to Ron's birthday. It's obviously a coincidence when events in the story match up with real time but it's always fun to see. On a similar note, I was actually quite enjoying the fact the my battle tournament ended just before March Madness began.
To Jacebralor: I'm glad you enjoyed, and also glad that the battle tournament came off as realistic in its outcome. Every time the competition came up in the previous stories I always avoided writing about it too much because I felt I would have to be forcing plot into otherwise pointless battle scenes just to keep the story moving. I always intended to make up for it with this tournament and hopefully I've done a good job of making up for the lack of past battles.
As always if you've enjoyed leave a Review and follow me on Twitter for updates.
Until next time.
