A/N: More reactions! Let me tell you… some parts of this chapter were hard to write. I'm so not a Slytherin, haha, so I find it hard to write them sometimes. I can only hope that I did them justice. I'll also say that I'm not entirely happy with the last part of this chapter, but I couldn't put my finger on what exactly was bothering me. It's just been one of those weeks. Enjoy!


Lord Voldemort was pleased. His Death Eaters visibly cowered as a cruel smile split the pale, sunken face of the world's most feared dark wizard, and he gave a laugh that was more of a high-pitched cackle than anything else. Every single one of them shuddered, and several exchanged worried looks. Lucius Malfoy in particular was concerned, though he managed to hide the emotion behind a smooth mask that belied none of what he was truly feeling. He knew exactly why his master was so pleased; everyone did. The Prophet article could not have come at a better time, for the more the wizarding world worked to discredit Harry Potter the easier that Voldemort would be able to work in secret.

"Lucius," Voldemort said, casting the paper aside. His scarlet eyes were lit with an inhuman glitter that would chill even the most practiced of men. "Report."

"My lord." Lucius bowed his head, his mind racing. He had fallen from Voldemort's graces after Azkaban and fallen even further when Draco refused to take the dark mark; he and Narcissa were playing a dangerous game and one misstep would end their lives. There were days he hoped that would happen, and other days where he feared it so strongly that it disgusted him. His mouth dry, he swallowed hard and said, "I have been monitoring Fudge and the Ministry. At this time, I do not believe that they intend to bring an investigation or press charges against the boy or his consort, even though the records would be enough evidence. It seems that they believe there would be a public outcry over the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived was being charged. One of my sources at the Prophet tells me that there were still witches and wizards who wrote in support of the boy, though the Prophet chose not to print their letters."

The dark lord nodded slowly, seemingly unsurprised by the news. "Continue to watch Fudge closely, Lucius," he commanded. "I want to know the second that he decides to do anything about Potter. Assure him that he will have your back should he chose to press charges. I also want you to encourage the Daily Prophet to write more articles about Potter and his consort." His lip curled with contempt. "The wizarding world must not believe anything that Potter has to say. I want everyone against him."

"Yes, my lord." Relieved, Lucius stepped backwards into the crowd as Voldemort turned to his next minion.

"Severus, report."

"The rumors about the soul bond are indeed true," said Severus, inclining his head slightly. "Potter and his consort woke up shortly before the news hit the Prophet. To date, they remain sequestered inside of the Hospital Wing, away from the rest of the school, and no one except for the headmaster and the school nurse have been allowed to see them. Dumbledore has told me that he plans to try and find a way to break the bond. He believes that it will be a hindrance towards your defeat, my lord. I believe that he has already begun to research soul bonds and their effects."

"Really." Voldemort looked amused as he idly tapped his yew wand against his throne. "I find myself beginning to question the old fool's intelligence. It seems that he is losing his touch with age. You will help him to find a way to break that infernal bond between the two of them, Severus. I dislike the effect that the bond has had on Potter. I want it broken by Christmas, or you will pay the price."

"As you wish," the man muttered. Lucius watched him out of the corner of his eye as Lord Voldemort moved on to the next Death Eater. He tortured several who reported news that displeased him, but miraculously, Lucius and Severus both managed to escape the meeting unscathed. Stealthily, keeping to the shadows, he followed Severus as the man made his way through the winding halls of the Riddle Mansion. It was impossible to apparate or disapparate inside, which meant that he would have an opportunity to corner the potions master when they were away from all of the others. His plan proved to be unnecessary as Severus stopped walking the second he sensed that they were alone.

"What do you want, Lucius?" he asked, not bothering to turn around. "Hurry up and ask your questions so that I can return to Hogwarts."

Lucius took a few steps closer to lower the risk of them being heard. Lifting his wand, he muttered, "Muffiliato!" in a low voice before he glanced at Severus. "You're playing a dangerous game, my friend."

"Aren't we all?" Severus said, raising an eyebrow as he finally looked back at Lucius. "I truly believed that he would torture you today. Has he finally forgiven you for disinheriting Draco instead of forcing him to take the Dark Mark?"

"You of all people should realize the Dark Lord never forgives or forgets," Lucius replied. He would pay for that move for years to come, but it was worth it. The Malfoy lineage would officially die with Lucius and Narcissa, but the knowledge that his child would still have a chance at survival made it all worthwhile. "More likely he was so pleased by what the Prophet was writing about Potter that he decided to be slightly lenient. He needs me in top shape if I'm to continue turning the wizarding world's favor against the boy."

Severus nodded, his obsidian eyes flashing in the dim light. "It won't take much convincing judging by the responses that are being written back into the Prophet," he said sourly.

"No." Lucius sighed softly, disgusted that the public could be so fickle. As though Harry Potter would ever even consider turning to the dark side. The boy was a bloody paragon of everything that was good and just in the world. Sometimes he thought the wizarding world was collectively a few sickles short of a full galleon. "Will you be working hard at your task?" he asked carefully.

"I have many things to take care of," the shorter man answered mildly. "But as always I will be doing my best to turn the bulk of my attention to the wishes of our lord and the headmaster."

Translation: no. Lucius was only able to hide his smile due to the years of practice that he had garnered. He knew that Severus's first loyalty was to Lily Potter, and anything that would truly harm her son would not be carried out by the potions master. Severus could have been a Hufflepuff in that respect, though the man would undoubtedly used the killing curse on Lucius if he ever heard Lucius say as much. After more than a century of dancing between the light and dark, Severus was an excellent spy and more than capable of making his two lords believe that he was hard at work when really his goal was sabotage. Still, he worried. Was his friend in over his head this time? This was the first time that Voldemort and Dumbledore had ever agreed on a task, which made it that much more dangerous.

"Severus, be careful," he said frankly, causing a surprised look to swing in his direction. "Draco needs your guidance now that he has no one else. I don't expect that Narcissa or I will survive this war. I need you to be there for him."

"Do not worry, Lucius," Severus replied, an uncustomary amount of gentleness in his voice. "Plans for Draco's future have already been set in motion. He will be well cared for regardless of whether any of us survive the coming war. I would never take a gamble with Draco; he is too important to both of us for that."

A weight felt like it had been lifted off of Lucius's shoulders and he inclined his head. "Thank you, my friend," he said quietly. Severus had been good to both him and Narcissa over the years. He owed the man a great deal that he would likely never have the chance to repay. "Good luck, Severus. You know where to find us if you ever require my help. Please pass along my good wishes to Draco." As always, thoughts of his once-child made his throat ache. The bonds had been severed between him and Draco, preventing him from loving the boy, but he would always be proud of the young man that Draco had become, and he would do anything to ensure that he survived.

"I will," Severus promised. "I have to go. I'm sure that the headmaster is waiting up to see what news I'll bring back to him." He rolled his eyes slightly, not looking forward to the meeting, and nodded once more to Lucius before he drew his wand. A quick half-turn later and he was gone.

Lucius sighed to himself as he pulled out his own wand. Normally, he kept it safely within his serpent cane, but for the Death Eater meetings he kept it by his side, as it wasn't safe to be around these people without protection at his side. Part of him ached to go with Severus, to renounce the Dark Lord and enjoy another taste of the freedom that his family had experienced during those fleeting years when the demon had been dead. But that was a pipe dream; Voldemort only kept them alive because Lucius still had ways in which he could be helpful, and he and his wife would both be killed within minutes if they were foolish enough to try turning their backs on the man. His only saving grace was that Draco would not suffer the same fate. With a grim smile, he twisted and vanished.

NIR

Cornelius Fudge rocked backwards on his heels as he stared apprehensively at the door to his office. He dreaded the thought of entering, as he knew exactly what would be waiting for him. The minute the news about Potter and his consort had broken in the Daily Prophet, the Ministry of Magic - and in particular his office - had been inundated with dozens of letters from the wizarding public. A few were in support of Potter, most were against him, and all of them made Fudge want to bang his head against the wall. Hard. Sometimes there was just no way to please everyone, and he was quickly finding himself smack dab in another one of those scenarios… literally.

"What will you do, Minister?" Amelia Bones inquired, a hard glint in her eye as she folded her arms across her chest. She was one of the few Ministry workers who were in support of Potter, and unsurprisingly, she was against any charges being brought against the boy no matter how many of the wizarding public were demanding it. Fudge jumped at the sound of her voice.

"I'm not sure," he said, mopping his brow with a rag. Sometimes it was terribly difficult being the Minister. "I suppose... I'll just let things go for now."

"You're going to allow the Daily Prophet to keep saying these things?" she demanded.

"I have no control over them, Amelia, as you well know," Fudge pointed out. Technically, it was true. Officially he didn't have a say in what the Prophet chose to publish. Unofficially, there was no way he was going to call in favours to protect Harry Potter of all people. "You know that unless Potter wants to bring charges against them, it's not my place to step in." He straightened his shoulders. "And even then, he has to be able to prove that what they've written is slanderous. Until that time, as far as I'm concerned Rita Skeeter has done nothing wrong and I won't try to punish her. We'll only end up looking like fools."

"And you do a nice job of that all on your own," she muttered sourly, a frown crossing her lips. "Very well. But I warn you, I'm going to be monitoring those papers closely, and if I see even the slightest hint that Skeeter is crossing the line, I won't hesitate to alert the Aurors and bring charges against her." She paused briefly. "What will you do about Potter?"

Fudge wanted to pretend that he hadn't heard the question, but he doubted Amelia would let it go until she got an answer. "I will be sending Aurors in to examine the matter more closely. At that time, we will decide if charges need to be pressed," he answered after some careful thought. He felt a flash of satisfaction, as he knew that there was no way she would be able to argue with an answer like that.

Amelia paused. "Can I choose the Aurors?"

"Yes, yes, as you will. Good day, Amelia." Waving an absentminded hand, Fudge hurried into his office before she could respond, deciding that dealing with the wizarding public was the lesser of two evils. He closed the door in Amelia's face and leaned against it with a heavy sigh before he turned to regard the room. As expected, his desk was nearly buried in the piles of envelopes that had come for him. Two vaguely familiar Ministry employees were already hard at work trying to keep up with the constantly rising pile.

"There's just too many of them," the girl gulped.

"Keep trying," the boy snapped. "If the Minister returns - " He cut himself off upon realizing that it had already happened. His face paled slightly, but he thrust his lower chin out. "Good day, Minister."

"Weatherby," Fudge muttered, wondering if Amelia had gone yet. "What are you doing with those letters?"

"We were going to sort them," he replied. "And then I was going to return the most important ones for your perusal."

"No, that's quite alright. In fact… why don't you open and read them for me?" Fudge suggested. He was gratified to see the boy's face brighten and his chest puff out proudly. The two of them finished collecting the letters in due time and left, leaving him alone. Feeling weary, he sank down into his chair and put his face in his hands, wondering when the antics of that blasted Potter child would end.

NIR

Pale blue eyes stared hard at a set of golden eyes. Blue eyes narrowed; golden eyes danced with amusement. Albus Dumbledore frowned. Fawkes the Phoenix chirped a sound that could have only been a laugh and spun, flipping his tail feathers up into Dumbledore's face before he took off from the perch and sailed out the window. Scowling and muttering under his breath about ungrateful familiars, the headmaster followed and watched as Fawkes spiraled down towards the grounds below. The phoenix clearly had a specific destination in mind, though Albus couldn't tell where he was headed. Probably off to visit one of the students, he thought, not knowing how right he was.

With a heavy sigh, he turned back to his desk and sat down in his old, rickety chair. The brand new copy of the Daily Prophet stared up at him, taunting him with the words that had been spread all over the wizarding world. Exactly what he didn't want; now that everyone knew about the soul bond, it would be that much more difficult to break it. He rubbed his forehead, realizing that his plan to leave Harry alone so that he would become stronger had come back to bite him in the ass, and supposed that he should have remembered that Gryffindors who were left to their own devices tended to seek out (or create) trouble. After all, he need only look at what the Marauders had done to know the truth of that. A lesson hard learned in this case.

He flipped the paper over so that he would no longer have to look at the headlines and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. It was too late to try and contain the matter; it was everywhere and the records of the Ministry couldn't be altered, anyway. They were, for all intents and purposes, proof that the soul bond between Harry and Ginny was real, though they were so old that he doubted anyone would actually accept them as such. No, if the Ministry chose to do something about this, they would send Aurors out to do a magical test for the presence of a soul bond.

The only question was would the Ministry be foolish enough to send Aurors to investigate the matter? What would he do if they attempted to bring charges against the two teens for their actions? That could result in Azkaban. It might have been beneficial, even, in breaking the bond between the two of them, but he could not allow Harry to spend even a day there. Once more, he shot a frustrated look out the window as he wondered why Fawkes was blatantly refusing to help him settle the matter. There was no doubt in his mind that the phoenix knew more than it was letting on.

"That's the problem with Gryffindors. Don't know what to do when their plan blows up in their face."

Albus twitched and resisted the urge to pull out his wand and cast a quick Incendio. Surely someone would notice and wonder why there was a notable absence of Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait and a suspicious black mark where it used to be. "Thank you for your comment," he replied sourly. "But I'm handling things just fine. I have plenty of back up plans."

Phineas Nigellus scoffed. "Sure you do," he mocked. "I'll just bet that this Potter kid hasn't thrown you for a loop. I could almost begin to like the boy at this rate."

"You would," he muttered under his breath. The urge to cast a spell on something was growing too large to ignore. Swiftly, he drew his wand and watched the Prophet burn to ashes. It didn't help.

NIR

Hermione was feeling a thousand times better until she saw the article in the Prophet when she got back to the Gryffindor dorms. She'd woken early that morning in the Hospital Wing feeling rested for the first time in months. After a perfunctory examination, Madame Pomfrey had ushered her out of the room, and because Chance and Remus weren't around, Hermione had gone as opposed to fighting with the healer. However, had she known what Parvati and Lavender were going to thrust into her face as soon as she had a shower and was getting dressed, she might have chosen to remain in the Hospital Wing. In the aftermath of a heated tongue lashing, the two girls retreated from the dorm in stricken silence while Hermione fumed.

"That vile witch," she seethed to herself, flopping down onto her bed. She couldn't believe that Rita Skeeter was up to her old tricks! Again! The witch had actually been behaving herself for a short while, but apparently the lure of gossip was too delicious to ignore. Obviously it was time to write another threatening letter. Hermione got up and went to the end of her bed, where she knelt before her trunk. Placing a finger against the keyhole, she murmured the words that would allow her to open the top without getting a nasty surprise. The protections were unfortunately necessary, after one of her roommates (she still wasn't sure who, though she suspected Lavender) had poured owl urine inside of her trunk during their first year.

Pushing the top up, she wrinkled her nose at the mess. "When was the last time I sat down and organized this thing?" she wondered, plunging a hand inside in search of a quill. Her fingers brushed against something warm and she jumped, pulling her hand out quickly to see that the coin she had charmed for the D.A. was flashing and radiating heat. Puzzled, Hermione examined it, realizing that the numbers across the top had been set for today at half past ten. Which was - she checked the clock - thirty minutes ago.

"Who would…?" Hermione trailed off and frowned. Harry certainly hadn't posted the meeting, which left a surprisingly small amount of people who could - or would - have done it. She grabbed her wand and stood up, hurrying out of the room and forgetting all about the letter to Rita Skeeter in her rush to get to the Room of Requirement.

NIR

After leaning forward just enough so that he could nudge the curtains fully shut, Harry relaxed against the pillows that had been fluffed up behind him. He'd awoken to the sound of Madame Pomfrey's voice as she sternly ushered a few students out of the Hospital Wing. She didn't appear to have noticed that he was awake yet, and for that, he was grateful. He needed a few minutes to himself to think about everything that had happened the last time he'd woken up.

Beside him, Ginny stirred briefly and curled up tighter against Harry's chest before she released a soft sigh and fell back into a deep slumber. Absently, he stroked her hair; he didn't remember Sirius leaving him, nor did he remember when someone had put Ginny back into bed with him. He knew that it should have alarmed him that he was lying in bed holding her again, but it felt so right that he couldn't help it. She fit perfectly against him, and when she was gone, a small part of him ached for her return. It had been noticeable even the day before when he'd been crying in Sirius's arms, and Ginny hadn't even been that far away.

He found himself blushing uncomfortably at the thought of Sirius and his meltdown. It had been ages since he'd broken down and cried, not since Uncle Vernon had caught him after a particularly bad nightmare at the beginning of the summer and given him a thrashing to "give him a real reason to cry like a baby". Harry felt the better for having released the pent-up stress, though it was mortifying to remember now. His head felt a little clearer and he was calmer, more able to think the situation through instead of panicking, the way he'd wanted to do yesterday. Shifting, he looked up at the ceiling of the Hospital Wing and continued to stroke Ginny's soft hair as he thought.

Fact 1: he and Ginny could hear each other's thoughts and feel what each other was feeling. He'd felt the sorrow and grief emanating from her while he cried, and then he'd felt the effects of the Calming Draught she had been given. It had leeched over to him somehow, stemming the frantic flow of his emotions to the point where exhaustion had taken over. Fact 2: in spite of the fact that he'd been otherwise occupied the night before, he'd still caught the odd word or two of Ginny's and Remus's conversation – enough to make him realize that something had gone seriously wrong. Fact 3: he was the Boy-Who-Lived and nothing he did ever turned out the way he wanted it to. The made a rueful smirk tug at his lips even as he felt Ginny moving around on his chest.

/Do you mind?/ she asked sleepily, pushing her hair out of her face. /I'm trying to sleep and you're thinking really loudly./

\Sorry, you should know I can't turn my mind off,\ he quipped in return. He could feel the exact moment that she realized she was essentially laying half on top of him. Waves of embarrassment that did not belong to him flooded through his body as Ginny scrambled to sit up. Immediately, he felt that strange aching feeling return when he lost contact with her. It was an odd sensation because he could not put his finger on exactly what was hurting. Even more upsetting was the fact that, as soon as he reached out and touched her hand, it stopped. Ginny stared down at their connected hands before she looked up at him and sighed.

/Harry, have you ever heard of soul bonds?/ she asked, her thoughts sounding resigned. Harry shook his head, unable to keep from feeling excited. For once, he was actually going to find out what was going on without having to snoop around. It was a bloody miracle. Ginny's lips twitched at that, and she ducked her head to hide her grin. /Soul bonds happen when parts of two different souls are meshed together,/ she explained delicately. /The souls don't become one, but they do come together. It's supposed to be permanent./

\That's what happened to us?\ he asked, questions flooding through his mind at an alarming rate. Ginny nodded and closed her eyes, frowning.

\Hang on,\ she thought, furrowing her brow in concentration.

Moments later, images were flashing in front of Harry's eyes. He recoiled back against the pillows as he watched her conversation with Remus. When it was over and he'd had a moment or two to accept what he'd seen, he turned to her with a look of amazement. \How did you do that?\

Her cheeks turned pink at his admiration. /Astoria and I… we had a bond that was kind of similar to this, only it was through something called partner magic,/ she replied. /It allowed us to connect, which meant we could share magic. It made us both stronger. That's how we were able to learn how to shield together. We didn't have a mind link, but sometimes we could push thoughts and impressions and feelings through our magic. I just did the same thing to you./ She paused for a moment before smiling. /It was quite handy./

\I bet.\ Harry shook his head, still too busy reeling from the information that had just been given to him to even think about the possible implications of what she'd been able to do. Soul bonds? Soul mates? It was like something of a muggle fairy tale, except it was happening in real life. \Ginny… what does this mean? Will we always… be like this? We can't do something to reverse it?\ He gestured weakly between the two of them. Remus had already said as much, but he needed to hear it from someone face to face before he could believe it.

Ginny bit her lip. /I don't really know that much about soul bonds,/ she said. /Maybe there's a chance we could find a way to break it. We could do some research… There's always a hope…/

Harry frowned at the resulting feeling of wrongness that crept down their bond. It was a feeling of pure discord, like a lone instrument that was out of tune with the rest of the orchestra: unmistakable and impossible to ignore. He looked down at her with an incredulous expression. \Are you lying to me?\ he asked, torn between amusement and amazement that the feeling should leak to him so clearly.

/Bloody bond./ With a faint scowl, Ginny rolled off of the bed and stood with her back to him. It didn't do anything to prevent the flow of emotions down their bond, which had turned to reluctance mingled with embarrassment and fear, all combined with that same discord that was making Harry feel on edge. She stayed like that for a long moment before she turned back around and met his eyes reluctantly. /Yes, Harry, just like Remus said, we're stuck like this. Soul bonds, unlike partner magic, are completely permanent and irreversible./

It was jarring to hear it confirmed out loud (well, sort of). Harry's gaze fell to the bed as he felt that odd aching feeling swell. Ginny gasped softly when she felt it, too, but before either of them could say or think anything, the curtain was swept aside and Madame Pomfrey bustled in. She clearly wasn't expecting either of them to be awake, because she jumped and gave a little shriek, and the tray she was carrying slipped from her fingers. His hand shot out automatically, but it was useless, as he was too far away to stop it from falling… Or was he? Like something invisible had caught it, the downward movement of the tray slowed, giving Ginny ample time to step forward and put her hands out. The tray dropped easily into her fingers just as Madame Pomfrey recovered and glanced up.

"Good heavens, you frightened me. Nice catch, dear," she added to Ginny, who smiled weakly. "I didn't realize you two were awake already. That sleeping potion should have kept you out for another few hours."

"I didn't have a sleeping potion," said Harry, noticing that it felt odd to be speaking out loud after spending so much time communicating silently with Ginny. She glanced over Madame Pomfrey's head and winked at him in reply.

"Yes, of course you didn't, but Mrs Potter did," the woman replied, setting the tray down on the nightstand. "It would have leaked across… Good thing you didn't have one, Mr Potter, or the combined effect would've knocked you both out for a day or two. And I think you've had quite enough of sleeping, don't you?" She gave a little laugh, seemingly not noticing that her words had frozen the two students stiff.

Married. Though Remus had mentioned something about that during his conversation with Ginny, it hadn't really had the chance to sink in because of everything else that had been going on until Madame Pomfrey called her by that name. Harry stared at Ginny with wide eyes, realizing that their spell had worked a little too well. She was a member of his family alright, but not as a sister. As his wife. Belatedly, he realized that his lungs were aching with the need to breathe, and he inhaled sharply… then promptly burst into a flurry of coughs that made Pomfrey jump for a second time.

"Are you alright, Mr Potter?" she asked, alarmed.

"Fine," Harry rasped, sliding off of the bed. "Just have to… I have to…" Without a further word to either of them, he turned and ran, fleeing through the door of the Hospital Wing and completely heedless to the way that Madame Pomfrey was shouting after him.

"Well, I never!" the woman huffed. "Was it wrong with that boy?"

Ginny's mouth was painfully dry. The panic and fear oozing off of Harry in waves was making her feel sick, and she had the urge to run away, too, though she fought it. "I'm not sure," she managed, sinking back down onto the bed. She wanted to reach out mentally and say something comforting to Harry, but she knew that her presence would only make the situation that much worse. And it was just too much. Her mind spinning, she stood up, walked past the healer, and headed for the door.

"Mrs Potter, come back here!" Pomfrey shouted as Ginny rushed out of the Hospital Wing. She didn't stop, especially not at the sound of that name, instead hurrying up the stairs towards Professor Astrum's office in the hopes that he would be there. Most of the students that she passed by stopped and stared at her, but she paid them no attention as she reached his door and started banging on it frantically.

"Where's the fire?" The door swung open to reveal a slightly panicked looking Chance Astrum. His eyes widened when he saw that it was Ginny, but before he could say a word, she threw herself into his arms and burst into tears.


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