20: Separation

Ginny stared vacantly out the window she was sitting next to - her mind drifting and her hand tugging unconsciously at the necklace she wore. She'd decided to sit on the second floor of the library; the majority of the students at the abbey left her alone for the most part, and she found that she liked it that way. Being all alone as she was, she had discovered her moods had taken a turn for the worse, and she wasn't good company - even with herself. Her thoughts would flit from subject to subject - from thinking about Percy to worrying about her Mum - but always they would settle on the one thing...the one person she knew she shouldn't be thinking about.

She turned back to the book that sat open on the desk in front of her and sighed. It had been six days since she'd last seen Harry, and this had been their first weekend apart. Dumbledore had wanted them to try being apart for as long as they could both physically stand it, to gauge how the spell would affect them. So far, Ginny had discovered she couldn't really sleep, nor eat, or even concentrate on reading unless she really focused. She was supposed to keep up with her studies, and the professors at the abbey were to help her. But so far, she was doing a piss-poor job at everything. She missed Harry desperately and found herself wishing for the silliest things - the sound of his voice, the way his hands felt, the look of his hair after he'd tried to smooth it down in the back. She'd wake up at least twice in the night, longing to smell him on her pillow or her clothes and moan when she realized he just wasn't there.

But her ache...her need...however strong it was, it was still not yet at that critical stage, she knew. It was nothing like what they had experienced before, and she realized it was because she knew where Harry was - she just couldn't be with him. Apparently, the Copulatus Amororis was held at bay if the couple connected were at least aware of where the other one was. It was a strange side-effect, but Ginny supposed it was for the best, really. But still, she didn't know how she was going to make it to Thursday - which was when Dumbledore had promised Harry could visit.

She told herself that she understood why Harry had needed to send her away. At first, she had been angry and then scared, and later...resigned to her fate. If Harry was worried about hurting her, then Ginny had to trust him. She knew the idea of hurting her frightened him; she had seen the look on his face as he'd tried to explain it to her. She had also recognized the truth in what he had said. He was changing and growing more potent - and using his power in ways she didn't think he had quite grasped yet. Ginny had felt the same way after her connection with Aine had been established - to be able to do something without thinking about it or have any real control over it was a scary thing. And she knew Harry was angry, or at least, she knew his anger was there, just below the surface, waiting to strike. She had seen it and felt it, but only when it had been directed towards someone else. Ginny knew he wanted to protect her and keep her safe - but she also understood that some part of him wanted to simply keep her from the side of him that he wasn't entirely at ease with yet. That was why she hadn't really fought him to stay, despite her stubborn nature to the contrary. She loved Harry, and she knew now that meant believing in him and trusting him to do the right thing, even if she didn't really agree with it (or with his rather tactless method of deciding things without her). If anyone else had decided her fate for her the way he had, she would have coldly told them off, probably even hexed them. But Harry? He had always had a way of making her forgive him when she probably shouldn't. The truth of the matter was that she didn't have it in her to stay angry with him, not when so many things already existed to hurt them both.

Ginny rested her head on the table, trying to focus her eyes on the book. But it wasn't any use, she was a lost cause again. Thinking about Harry always made her feel two things - emptiness and then sadness that they couldn't just be together. She packed up her bag and made her way downstairs, passing by the main desk. She really didn't feel like spending any more time in her lonely room, but at least there she could take a long bath and stretch out. She stopped, startled as Garrett called for her, and she turned around, surprised. Although Garrett was one of the few people she spoke to daily, she was always taken aback whenever he made an effort to talk to her first. He was still so reticent.

The shy man leaned over the main table and nodded at her to come closer.

"Yes, Garrett?"

"A new book came; I thought you might enjoy it," he said as he pushed a small, leather-bound book towards her. She looked down at it and read the title, The Stones of Lough Gur by Petra O'Hagan. She glanced up at Garrett.

"I've already read most of the books about Lough Gur, Garrett, but thanks -"

"This one's different. It's er...Muggle. It might give you something more to think about," Garrett said, blushing.

Ginny nodded. "Did you order this one special then?"

His blush turned darker, and he nodded. "Yes, but Mr Cosgrove said I should. I mean, he said your research is vital."

Ginny smiled and picked up the small book. "Well, then, thank you. I'll be certain to read it."

Garrett looked like he wanted to say something else, so she waited. She knew Brogan said that Garrett was shy and preferred books to people, but she always got the sense that there was something else about the man that was different. He finally met her eyes and gave her a little smile.

"Sometimes...going for a walk down by the river helps...you know, when you're restless and missing...er...things." He looked away when he saw her expression. "I mean, not a walk with me or anything, just...a walk in general...maybe getting some fresh air would er...feel good."

Ginny nodded and thanked him again for the book and headed out of the library. She turned to make her way back to her room, but stopped, opting instead to go for a walk outside. Maybe Garrett was right; perhaps a walk in the afternoon sun was exactly what she needed to help clear her mind.

o-o-o-o-o

"Cheer up, mate, you made it through one weekend, what's a few days more?" Ron asked him as Harry listlessly pushed his food around on his plate.

It was dinnertime, and Ron and Hermione had convinced him that eating in the Great Hall with everyone would help take his mind off things. Harry thought he must have been mental to agree with them; all he did was look around, expecting to see Ginny walking towards their table or talking with one of her friends or stealing the food off his plate. He missed her more than he had thought possible, and it didn't get better with time. In fact, thanks to their little spell, it was actually growing worse. He wasn't certain Ron and Hermione truly appreciated that fact. Of course, what really made Harry disagreeable was the fact that he knew he was the only one to blame for her absence.

Harry sighed and threw his fork down, decidedly not hungry. Hermione reached across the table and patted his hand consolingly.

"Harry, it's going to be Thursday before you know it, trust me. There's loads of revision you have to do. We have that Potions exam soon, and I think Professor Flitwick mentioned something about testing us on the Disillusionment Charm."

"I've already had that done on me," Harry said flatly. "And Snape can kiss my -"

"Hi there, Harry!"

Harry turned and groaned as Gary, the only slightly less annoying brother of Mary Sue, was making his way towards the Gryffindor table. He turned back to Ron and Hermione, feeling cross. Ever since Susan's party, the Ravenclaw boy thought he was Harry's new best friend.

"Just great," he said to his two friends as he turned to face Gary, forcing a smile on his face. "Hi, Gary."

The Ravenclaw boy settled into the empty seat next to him, which only made Harry miss Ginny all the more. He nodded his head as Gary chatted on and knew that once his eyes started to glaze over, Hermione would kick him under the table. He found himself drifting off, wondering what Ginny was doing - if she were eating dinner too, or perhaps taking a bath...

"So, what do you think, Harry?" Gary asked him, and Harry felt the sharp heel of Hermione's shoe on his and blinked rapidly at the boy next to him.

"Um -"

"Actually, it sounds like a good move, er, Gary, was it?" Ron asked, wiping off his hand on his robe and offering it to Gary. "I'm Ron, by the way. Gryffindor Quidditch captain... are you certain Coxon wasn't interested in using that move for the Ravenclaw team? Because I'd really like to try it with my Beaters."

Harry watched as Gary beamed at Ron, apparently pleased that he'd been listening. Harry tuned out the conversation, turning back to his half-eaten dinner. He knew Ron and Gary would talk Quidditch all night, and he could steal away back to the dormitory to be alone. When he looked back up from his dinner, Gary was attempting to draw his move on a piece of parchment that looked suspiciously like Ron's homework for Herbology; Hermione had rested her head on her hand and was reading, occasionally glancing over at Ron and Gary and frowning. Harry knew that was his cue to leave. He said goodbye to everyone and got up, slipping away unhindered.

He had made it all the way to the hallway where Ginny's room had been before he realized what he'd done and stopped. He sighed and looked around, suddenly missing her so much that he wanted to scream.

It's your own fault she's gone, you big git, so stick it out, a voice admonished him in his head. He sighed and turned around, heading towards the seventh floor and the common room.

Harry knew he had plenty of things to keep him busy - the professors seemed intent on loading everyone down with homework, and he was already behind in most of his classes. Ron was making them practice twice as hard during the week at Quidditch since Harry would, more likely than not, be missing most weekend practices. Harry also had a sinking suspicion that Ron was still a bit irritated with Harry for making him lose his best Chaser. Ron had appeared to be understanding about Ginny leaving - she and Harry had explained to both him and Hermione that it was for research, and they had both seemed to accept that answer. Although neither Harry nor Ginny had told the other couple exactly how long she would be gone, they seemed to somehow know it was for the long haul. And while Harry was pretty confident that Ron would agree with him about keeping Ginny safe - he could still understand his friend's anxiety at losing her from the team.

Also, on Harry's mind was the fact that Lucius Malfoy was still free, and apparently, Draco had no qualms about letting the world know it. His barely withheld sneering in the hallways and in the classrooms was getting on Harry's last nerve. Harry knew that Draco had to have been behind Ginny's kidnapping; he just couldn't prove it. But he did know that if something didn't knock the git back down to earth soon, then he was going to have to do it himself. Not that he personally had any problem with that, but Ginny had made him swear he wouldn't do anything to cause more problems. She had told him that since 'she was being carted off to Ireland, the least he could do was to not get into trouble because of Draco.' Harry had grudgingly agreed with her (again), although he was now regretting it.

But the small attack on Hogsmeade had sent a new alarm through everyone else, and the Daily Prophet had once again started running articles advising people how to protect themselves. Students kept pestering him, wanting to schedule more DA meetings, and Harry was obliged to them, figuring any time he spent actually doing something instead of sitting around missing Ginny was time well spent. But it never worked - at the end of the day, as he crawled into bed, he still missed her, and he would fall asleep longing for her. Thinking of his dismal, immediate future with his pillow, Harry trudged slowly up the stairway to the dorm, his mind a million miles away.

"Hiya, Harry," Neville said to him as he entered. Harry paused, startled. He stared at the other man.

"Um, I thought the dorm would be empty," Harry blurted out and then felt bad for how that sounded. "Sorry, Neville, I just...wanted to be alone. No, please, you can stay," he added as Neville stood up.

"I wanted to be alone too, actually," Neville said, nodding his head and sitting back down. "I reckon we can be alone together. I mean, I won't bother you; I understand, Harry. I know you miss her."

Harry nodded and then because he felt another pang inside of him about Ginny, looked at the papers on Neville's bed. "Were you writing something?"

Neville looked down and started straightening the parchments. "Yeah...I...well, really, Ginny's the one that gave me the idea, actually. She said that when she ever needed to think things out, she'd write it down and eventually feel better. I didn't believe her at first, but...she's right, in a way. I've been writing letters to my parents. I bet you think that's silly, but -"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "I know what you mean. Sort of a way of telling them things without...well, worrying about if they understand or not."

Neville nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I know they're never going to wake up and be themselves again, but - "

Harry shook his head. "You don't know that, Neville."

Neville shrugged, looking embarrassed. "No, but...anyway, I like to tell them about my days, you know. And then I read the letters back, and I just..."

"You feel closer to them," Harry said perceptively.

Neville smiled at him. "Yeah. A bit. Ginny talk to you about this, too?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not really, but it sounds like something she'd tell you to do to make you feel better."

"Yeah, she's a good friend, Ginny. I mean, she always was, to me. Even back when I knew she really fancied you."

Neville's skin had gone pink, and Harry felt self-conscious for some reason, but he realized, quite surprisingly, that he liked talking about Ginny with someone. It occurred to him that Ron and Hermione had been going out of their way not to mention her, as though she no longer existed anymore, which was silly, really, Harry knew, because she'd only been gone a week.

"Ginny is a good friend," Harry said earnestly. "I'm glad you two are close."

Neville nodded. "She fancies you loads, though, Harry; don't worry."

Harry couldn't resist laughing, and he felt lighter inside suddenly. "Yeah, I know, Neville, but thanks."

"Er, well, I think I will leave you alone then," Neville said, heading towards the door. He paused and looked back at Harry.

"You know, I think writing a letter to someone is a good way to tell them things you might forget to later on." He turned and left, with Harry shaking his head as he made his way over to his bed. He lay down and rested his hands on his stomach. He knew he should get started on his Transfiguration homework, but something Neville had said had stuck with him. He reached down and pulled out a roll of parchment from his bag.

Harry stared at the blank sheet for a moment, quill poised in his hand. He smiled and then started to write his very first-ever love letter.

o-o-o-o-o-o

"Hidden within the iron-rich limestone hills, Lough Gur is at once a welcoming and yet distinctively mysterious place. One visitor remarked upon leaving that Lough Gur and its surrounding lands gave them 'a chill down to their toes,' and another, less sensitive soul remarked not upon its green beauty, but its rather 'boring ambiance'.

So what is the truth behind Lough Gur and its stones? Was the lake formed by a goddess as the old legends contend? Is it a simple burial ground that has garnered attention only because of the remaining stone circles? Are the stones merely a tourist attraction geared toward the easily fooled and skeptic alike? Or are they something more...something not yet known? Or perhaps their use is for something that has long been forgotten..."

Ginny paused in her reading, glancing at the name of the author again. She had to admit this particular author seemed to at least know how to get people interested in what was probably just a hill of grass. She was glad Garrett had received the book for her; she had a feeling she was going to enjoy reading it, if only for the prose of the Muggle author and her distinct sense of whimsy. It was undoubtedly more straightforward than most of the wizarding books she'd read on the subject; it definitely beat learning about the many uses of the Henbane for her Potions homework. She flipped the next page over to read the start of the first chapter.

"The area around Lough Gur, strictly speaking, is a hundred and eighty-four acres of softly rolling hills and flatlands forming the shape of a small bowl. The lake, believed to be one of the oldest in Ireland, forms the shape of a crescent and is hidden partly by the biggest of these 'rolling' hills, the Cnoc d'Aine, named for the ancient goddess rumored to have formed the lake for her own personal use.

A rather odd and eccentric surveyor, Peabody Grange, was actually one of the very first to discover and describe the rather large, contiguous stone circle that makes up the bulk of the Lough Gur territory. There are precisely one hundred and thirteen still-standing stones, and the tallest is a hundred and fifty in diameter. No one has ever been able to state with any authority on exactly what the stone circle's purpose was. Grange himself was silent on the subject, although the Grange circle, as it is now known, was named for him.

It is rumored that there are many burial grounds located around the circle, but at this time, only one has been currently excavated. This may have more to do with the uncertainty of the stone of the area - cave-ins are usually the culprit than with any lack of trying by local examiners. A large cave was destroyed at the turn of the century during one such accident, and no further attempts have been made to gain access.

Because of such odd occurrences throughout the years, the legend of Aine has grown and mutated into different things - one myth claims the lake was where she bore her son, the rumored Earl of Desmond - the famous 'White Horse Rider.' Another legend claims the lake was built by Aine for the local farmers as a thank you for a service well done. And another, more controversial theory is that the circle of stones is a sort of time portal - designed to carry Aine and her offspring back and forth as she moves through time, correcting that which has gone wrong."

Ginny blinked at the book, amazed that the Muggle writer had even mentioned the idea of the stones being a time-portal. Usually, the concept of time travel was too absurd for most Muggles to even think about, at least, that is what she had been told. She wondered if she had just assumed it was rubbish and not concentrated on that aspect of it enough. She pulled out her parchments and started flipping through the pages of notes she had made during the summer, not remembering what else she had read about time-portals.

Ginny gave up after a short while, wondering if she had perhaps let the notes get mixed up with Harry's. He had given her his own small sample of observations in a hodgepodge of scribbles and messy parchments. She hadn't had time yet to go through them all. She turned her attention back to the book, but not before making a note to herself to ask Garrett for more information about time-portals.

"The stones are all contiguously set - something that is unique to the Grange circle in particular. The time and effort it must have taken for the ancient peoples that erected such a circle must have been immense. The inclusion of two small cairns (burial chambers or mounds), leads one to believe that, at least at one point in time, a settlement lived very near the circle. Indeed, the location of the lake in such a wide valley would have proved the spot to be a natural breeding ground for a community. And yet, because of the myths and legends surrounding Aine and her still-lingering influence, no one group of settlers have remained in the area for long. Two castles now lay abandoned near the shore of Lough Gur - an old garrison of Irish soldiers in Castle Bourchier and the infamously haunted Black Castle."

Ginny paused, wondering what the chances were of there being a castle in Ireland, in a highly magical spot watched and surveyed by both wizards and Muggles alike, being given the surname of Harry's godfather. It couldn't be a coincidence. She would have to send a letter to Tonks since she was the only connection to the Black family that might actually know anything about it. She wondered if perhaps, Professor Lupin would know since he had grown up with Sirius and his family. She made another note to herself and then stretched, yawning as she sat back on the bed. She was just debating with herself about whether or not she wanted to keep reading or just give up and try to get some sleep when there was a short knock on the outside door. She'd moved into their old rooms, but she had kept the main sitting room partitioned off with the wall; she'd felt odd about having so much space to herself.

She opened the door, surprised to see Mr Cosgrove smiling at her.

"Ah, Ginny, I thought perhaps it was too late to visit, but I knew you would want this immediately."

He held up an envelope, and Ginny felt a swell of happiness inside her as she recognized Harry's scrawl across the top of it, spelling out her name. Her feelings died quickly, however, as she realized what the letter meant.

"He's not coming on Thursday, is he?"

Mr Cosgrove blinked and then shook his head at her, handing the envelope to her.

"Albus didn't mention that there had been a change of plans. He simply said that Harry had asked for this to be delivered to you as soon as possible. I'm sorry, my work in town kept me out most of the evening, or you would have had it before now."

Ginny nodded and bit her lip as she looked at the envelope, hoping she could figure out its contents just by staring at the way he'd written her name. Mr Cosgrove cleared his throat and said goodnight, and she closed the door, suddenly curious as to why Harry would need to send her a letter if he were going to see her in two days.

Feeling nervous and just a little bit foolish, she opened the envelope and sat down on the sitting room sofa, tucking her feet up under her. Her finger traced over the start of the letter, noticing all the words he'd re-written and then scratched out. She smiled as she began to read.

Dear Gin-

Do you realize this is one of the first...(no, wait, I think this is the first, actually), letters that I've ever written to you? I'm not a letter writer, really. Just ask Hermione, or, better yet, read one of your brother's letters, change the names, and there you go. I don't think blokes were meant to do this letter writing thing; well, I don't think Gryffindor blokes were, at any rate. Maybe one of those sodding Ravenclaw boys you seem to be fond of could have done it better.

But I miss you. A lot. Really a lot! Okay, I had to mark some of those out; that just looked daft, but...look, Neville...he and I talked, and he told me how you'd told him to write things out, to feel better, and I reckoned...well, what works for him, should work for me, right? And since you were the one who told him to write and then he was the one that told me to write, well...it made me feel closer to you.

Gods, Gin. I'm going...mad. I have loads of things to keep me busy, and sometimes it works, but most of the time, I'm just... lost missing you so much, it's like a new pain. But not one that I can get fixed. Does that make sense? I can't believe how much of a prat I sound like in this letter...

Ron is making us work extra hard at practice, you'll be pleased to know, so don't worry, we're not going to lose the Quidditch Cup this year without your sexy, fit nimble presence on the team. Ron's still pretty cross, I think, for losing his best Chaser. At least, that's what I keep telling myself every time he picks me to be the one to pack up after everyone.

Did I mention I miss you? Yeah. I reckon I did. I close my eyes, and I swear I can almost taste you. I'm doing horrible at this love-letter business. Looking back, I see I've rambled on about Quidditch and Neville and how terrible I am and not said one single thing about how much I love you.

I know you know it, but you know...writing it down...makes it seem sort of...I don't know. More real. So here goes:

I love you, Ginny Weasley. Sleep with this letter, if you want, and I'll sleep with this quill.

I'll see you soon.

Really soon.

So go to sleep right now, and when you wake up, we'll be one day closer.

Love,

Harry

(You know, the complete and utter git responsible for sending you away)

Ps. Don't ever tell Ron about this or I'll kill you and that's a threat a promise

No, just a threat, you'd probably haunt me if I killed you, and I don't fancy having Moaning Myrtle for a girlfriend...although I do think you'd be less spotty than her...

Ginny giggled at the flower he had tried to draw but had ended up crossing out. She read the letter again and then sighed, holding it to her heart. It was a silly letter and Harry had been right, he was terrible at it - but Ginny didn't care. She felt a huge smile on her face as she clutched it to her, feeling the tears already behind her eyes.

Just two more days, Harry, she thought, and for the first time since arriving at the abbey, she knew she was going to sleep all right for once.

o-o-o-o-o

Harry woke up Thursday morning feeling very anxious- in more ways than one. Thanking his internal alarm clock for waking him up again before anyone else, he moved quickly into the showers, eager to relieve some of the apparent pressure his body was under thanks to his lack of shagging the last (very long), eight days. No matter what Ginny told him, he somehow couldn't picture a girl suffering from quite the same issues in the morning.

After he was done and feeling at least slightly better now that all of his blood was no longer traveling to one part of his body, Harry dressed quickly and headed downstairs to the common room to finish his Potions homework. Because Harry had Thursdays off, but his Potions practical was still on Fridays, Dumbledore had requested that Snape allow Harry to do his practical Thursday morning instead so that he would be able to spend the weekend at the abbey with Ginny. Snape had surprisingly agreed, but Harry was quite sure it was only because the greasy git would enjoy baiting him alone in the dungeons for two hours.

Harry had thought that knocking the Potions Master into the wall would put yet another brick in the barrier that was Snape's already healthy hatred of him, so he was surprised to find that Snape treated him no differently than before. He was neither nicer nor any less rotten towards Harry; in fact, he acted as though nothing had occurred between them at all. All of which was fine by Harry. He may have felt bad about losing control, but he didn't feel bad enough to apologize; not that he thought Snape would even listen to him if he did.

He was almost done with his essay when Hermione joined him, sitting on the sofa next to his chair, yawning. She glanced down at his parchment and looked impressed.

"Well, you certainly have been doing your homework a lot quicker this last week," she said offhandedly as she pulled her own Potions book out of her bag.

"Not much else to do, really. I can't claim I've been distracted by anything or anyone other than myself," Harry said, frowning. It was true that since sending Ginny away, things had settled down, and the only thing that seemed to be in flux was his own heart and mind.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "Oh, Harry. It's Thursday! You just have to get through Potions, and then you can go and be with her. Actually, I was surprised to see you working so diligently down here; I figured you'd be bouncing off the walls, dying to get going. Are you certain you're feeling okay?"

Harry gave her a tired smile and nodded his head, turning back to his homework. He finished the essay and then sat, staring into the fire, thinking of a million different things. He finally looked at his friend.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"I want to do something special for Ginny; do you think you can help me?"

Hermione closed her book and looked at him, biting her lip. "Well, of course, Harry, but I think, well, wouldn't Ginny prefer something that came directly from you?"

"Huh? No, I mean, not now, and yeah, of course, but...it's just...before she left, she mentioned the Yule Ball and..."

"Oh, yes, we were going to pick out dress robes soon, actually. I requested a catalog from Madam Malkin's to be sent - it just came the other day." Hermione reached down into her bag and pulled out a small booklet. "It's really best to order early, in case the robes don't fit correctly."

Hermione flipped through the book and then opened it up to a full centerfold of the latest in 'Young Witch High-Couture' that looked decidedly intimidating to Harry. She handed the book over to him, and he stared at it before shaking his head and handing it back to her.

"I don't know the first thing about picking out a new dress robe; what do you think she'd like?"

Hermione's eyes brightened, and she leaned closer to his chair, setting the booklet out in front of them. "Well, I think she said she wanted something light and purple...maybe lavender. I know she hates pink...and orange...and...this green one is sort of nice." Hermione's finger landed on a slightly dumpy-looking witch who was wearing what looked to Harry like something found floating in one of Snape's specimen jars. Harry made a face.

"No, I think she'd want something...like that," Harry said, pointing to the next page.

Hermione clucked her tongue. "Well, it's very costly. I think Ginny was sort of hoping she wouldn't have to borrow so much."

"I'll buy it for her," Harry said, looking at the dress robe again and making up his mind.

"Harry, Ginny's not going to even be here for the Ball, is she?"

"So? Doesn't mean I can't buy her a nice dress robe to wear anyway, does it?"

Hermione wisely didn't question him and then looked at the dress robes more closely. "Harry, this is really very expensive. I don't think Ginny would feel comfortable with you spending such a great deal of money."

"Well, it's a good thing she's not here then," Harry said stubbornly, feeling annoyed. He had asked for help, not a lecture on the merits of spending too much money on dress robes. Hermione finally sighed and shook her head, giving him a long-suffering look.

"Well, I can tell your mind is set, and I know what that means. Would you like me to fill out the information for you?"

When Harry stared at her blankly, she sighed. "Her measurements? Although," Hermione frowned as she paused, looking at the order form, "I don't happen to know exactly what bust size she'd wear. You don't happen to know, do you?" She arched her eyebrow at him.

Harry moved his hand to illustrate the size of Ginny's breasts and then paused, feeling his skin heat. He pursed his lips at Hermione. "Er, no, I haven't exactly been too concerned with their exact size. My mind is usually on other things when I get to see them, Hermione."

Hermione stared unabashedly at him for a moment and then erupted into giggles. Harry stared at her, bewildered.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry; it's just I can't believe we were just having a conversation about Ginny's breast size. She'd be mortified if she knew, you know. Especially at that hand movement you just did."

"Well, then please don't ever tell her," Harry said, laughing, suddenly seeing the humor in it.

"Don't ever tell who what?" Ron asked as he wandered over from the staircase, looking as though he were still half-asleep. He certainly looked as though he were still half-dressed. His only class for the day was Divination, which was late in the afternoon, and he often slept in, much to Hermione's great annoyance, Harry knew.

"Ginny. Don't ever tell her," Harry said now, smirking at Hermione.

"Tell her what?" Ron asked as he frowned at the two of them. He sat down on the sofa next to Hermione.

"What we were talking about, of course," Hermione said in a bored voice, although Harry could tell she was trying very hard not to smile.

Ron looked at the both of them, clearly confused. Harry bit back a laugh as Ron finally shrugged and rested his head on Hermione's shoulder, muttering something about 'people who were up too early acting daft.' Hermione smiled down at him and shook her head. She used one of her quills to start writing in the booklet, and Harry turned back towards the fire, feeling unexpectedly content all of a sudden. He knew he had to get through Snape being unbearable and then finish up the rest of his homework if he could. He didn't even want to look at a book while he was with Ginny. In fact, if Harry had anything to do with it, they wouldn't even move from that great, big, wonderful bed...

"I'll see you two for lunch, right? Before I leave?" he asked as he stood up, suddenly eager to get on with his day. Hermione and Ron both looked up at him and nodded. Harry smirked as Ron moved his arm around Hermione's waist. "You'd better watch it, Ron. I hear the head girl dislikes public displays of affection."

"That's only when other students are around," Ron said smugly, tightening his hold on his girlfriend. Hermione turned a bit pink in the face and looked at Harry, shrugging. Harry laughed. "Well, here come Dean and Seamus, so you'd best watch out."

Harry smirked as he heard Ron start to grumble that 'those two sods don't count as students,' to Hermione's request for 'common room decorum.'

Just a few more hours, he thought as he left the tower. He wondered if Ginny had enjoyed his letter and felt a brief flash of embarrassment. He hoped she didn't think he didn't care for her by his lack of ability to write a proper letter. Perhaps he would have to ask Hermione for help with that too.

o-o-o-o-o

"Against my better judgment, Potter, I have complied with the headmaster's request to allow you to complete your Potions practical outside your normal timetable. However, the headmaster did not mention anything about you leaving before your allotted time, so if you think cutting the Ignatia Amara like a madman will make me release you, you are sadly mistaken."

Harry bit his tongue and didn't say anything, slowing down his chopping movements. He knew Snape was acting difficult on purpose. But he sighed, knowing that his thought of possibly leaving earlier than expected for the abbey was futile. Snape would make him stay until the very last minute, just to be vindictive.

The door to the dungeons opened suddenly; Snape and Harry both turned to see who it was. Harry couldn't resist a scowl as Draco Malfoy smirked at him.

"Keep working," Snape growled at Harry and then turned to face Draco. "Yes, Mr Malfoy?"

"Professor McGonagall sent me to find you, sir. Apparently, a few students have been caught giving a Love Potion to some Hufflepuff girls. They've started acting sort of funny," Draco said, the amusement evident in his eyes.

"Funny how Mr Malfoy?" Snape asked.

"Er, well, last time I saw, they were...disrobing rather hastily. Professor McGonagall said you'd have an antidote," Draco said gleefully.

Snape gave Malfoy a scornful look and headed towards his desk, using his wand to unlock the bottom drawer. Draco smirked and looked at Harry. "What's the matter, Potter? NEWT level potions too much for you? You need the extra revision?"

Harry narrowed his eyes and didn't say anything, but he moved his hand slowly, as though he were turning it in Draco's direction and was gratified to see the other boy flinch.

"Potter, you are not to move from that seat. After you finish with the Ignatia Amara I want you to then move on to the next step in the potion. I trust even you can do that. Mr Malfoy, if you please; Mr Potter needs absolute silence to concentrate." The disdain in Snape's voice made Harry flash a dirty look at him, but he was already sweeping past, small vials of a blue liquid in his hand. Malfoy laughed and followed Snape out of the dungeon, the door closing behind them with a loud clang.

A few minutes had passed when the door opened once more, and Harry was unsurprised to see Draco again. He sighed and stopped chopping, turning in his seat.

"Forget something, Draco?"

"Just wanted to make certain you didn't need any help," the other boy drawled, coming into the room. Harry tried to remind himself not to lose control, and lowered his knife, pushing it away from him. He didn't fancy explaining to Snape how Malfoy had lost a limb in some horrible knife-cutting incident.

"What do you want?" Harry finally asked the other boy, feeling his anger already starting as he saw Malfoy lean against the counter, looking at his nails as though bored.

"I just told you, Potter. Some of us have excellent Potion abilities, while some of us don't. I just thought I'd offer my skills."

Harry took a deep breath and told himself not to bite. He turned his attention back to his potion, deciding that the other boy was something that just needed to be ignored. Draco, however, had different ideas about his apparent importance. He walked down the aisle and paused when he was almost in front of Harry's cauldron.

"You know, it's a shame you had to send that girlfriend of yours away, Potter. She may be a traitorous mudblood lover, but at least she has...nice assets to look at."

Harry stopped what he was doing and glanced up at Draco, wanting for all the world to wipe the smirk of the other boy's face.

"Tell me, Harry," Draco paused on his name, making a face, "does she really have freckles all over? I mean, from what I saw, they really do go everywhere, don't they?"

Harry sat back and gave Draco a cold stare. "What are you talking about?"

"I think you know," Draco said, eyes glinting. "My father wouldn't let me watch, of course...he doesn't think it's wise to be enamored of rubbish, after all, but I saw enough to know. When they replaced her with the impostor, don't you think they wanted to make certain that everything on her matched? Even her knickers?"

"So, you admit you helped your father grab Ginny?" Harry asked softly, flattening his palms on the table in front of him.

Draco nodded his head rapidly, visibly pleased by the angry look Harry was giving him. "Of course. My part was...integral, Potter. I made myself look like Longbottom so I would be able to sneak into the Gryffindor dorms and steal a bit of her brother's hair. The plot was in place for months, of course. And you fell for it, naturally, just like you always do. Honestly, you're so easy to manipulate it's a wonder the Dark Lord even considers you an annoyance."

Malfoy sneered at him, clearly pleased with himself. Harry narrowed his eyes and felt something cold working its way through him.

"You're an idiot, Draco," Harry said quietly.

Draco scoffed at him. "And what makes you say that, Potter?"

"Because you've shut yourself in a room with me, with no one else around to protect you," Harry said, his voice dropping low. He moved his hand, and they both heard the door lock, and he stood up from his chair. "Do you really think that Voldemort would approve of you bragging to me, Draco? Are you really that stupid? Don't you know he prides loyalty and secrecy above all things?"

Draco, whose face had lost a bit of its confidence, backed up and folded his arms, still trying to appear nonchalant and unworried, but it was useless - Harry had seen the flicker of fear in his eyes.

"And how would you know what the Dark Lord wants above all things, Potter?" Draco said, adopting his bored stance again, looking down at his nails.

Harry moved so that he standing in front of Draco. He was close enough to punch him if he needed to, but Harry had an idea that he wouldn't. He waited until Draco finally brought his eyes up to meet his.

"Because he's in my head, Draco. All the time, listening, watching, waiting...I wonder what he thinks of your father - to have raised a son that is as stupid as you. Let's see shall we..."

Draco's eyes widened, and he backed away from Harry. "You're a liar. You don't communicate with the Dark Lord."

Harry closed his eyes, and the next time he spoke, his voice was low and rough. It wasn't hard to conjure up the sound that he wanted - he'd been living with it long enough. "Lucius, you idiot. Look what your son has done. He betrays us. I will punish him, I think. I will make him understand what it means to swear loyalty to Lord Voldemort."

Harry opened his eyes and looked at Draco, who was staring at him, his mouth open. He whimpered and then started backing up towards the door.

"What's the matter, Draco, scared?" Harry said, snarling at the other boy, not feeling like himself. He watched as Draco actually turned paler than usual. Malfoy used his wand to unlock the door and pulled it open, scrambling out of it and not looking back as Harry heard himself give a short, high-pitched laugh...

Harry stared as the door swung shut, and then he blinked at it, shaking his head.

"Stupid git," he said out loud, his voice back to normal. He turned and made his way back to his seat, picking up his knife once again, feeling his emotions settle. Harry didn't realize how persuasive his portrayal had been.

o-o-o-o-o