A/N: I thought this chapter was going to be easier to write because I was past the arc of them figuring out what was going on, but as I got into it and also got questions from readers and reviewers, I realized I needed to explain a few more things. So this chapter starts with more exposition, but hopefully that''s most of the rest of it. Enjoy and review if you'd like. Thanks!

Lidia Niles-Falk picked up the weekly sales reports, glanced at them briefly, and then set them back down on her desk. She took off her trademark diamond classes and rubbed at her eyes and then leaned back in her chair in an uncharacteristic show of relaxation. The Aurors had just left and she still didn't quite believe what they'd told her. Somehow her contest, her brilliantly conceived and planned and organized twelve-week contest that was making the magazine and publisher thousands and thousands of Galleons, had been corrupted, and no one seemed to know who was behind it or how it had been done. What was worst of all was that despite all of Lidia's assurances to Harry Potter that every level of care would be taken to protect his participation, she had failed to do so.

The obvious culprit was Marietta Edgecomb; after all, she was person in charge of the Personal Product Portkeys and she had been the one to send Harry the cursed book. The Aurors were talking to her now, but as much as Lidia wanted answers she was having trouble believing that her meek assistant could be behind the plot; she just didn't seem that savvy. True, Lidia knew the history of Marietta's skin condition but really, if Marietta was out for revenge one would think the girl would have focused her ire at Hermione Granger instead of Harry. Lidia shook her head. She just couldn't believe it was Marietta. Apart from everything else, she doubted the girl would do anything that might risk her continued participation in the skin care project. She was obviously enamored with the results so far, and had told the editor that Ariadne Zabini had invited her to a private party at her estate after Marietta's treatments were completely finished. She was to be introduced to Ariadne's rich friends, and many of those rich friends had sons. Marietta's mother was a mid-level Ministry employee and seeing her daughter marry her way into a higher station of life would likely be a crowning achievement.

Lidia had told all this to the Aurors, but none of it was really much help, she suspected.

The Aurors had explained what they could. Apparently, some time after Harry had signed the original Magical Monthly contract to be in the competition, someone had enchanted a third edition of Twelve Failsafe Ways to Charm Witchesand sent it to him instead of the proper second edition. As soon as he'd opened it and begun reading, a second magical contract had been created between Harry and the book. Now he had to follow the book too, but no one was exactly sure what the new rules were. Everyone agreed that the requirements for what Harry had to do to charm Ginny were more difficult than in the second edition, but since no one had been able to read past the pages in the current week's chapter, they couldn't say exactly how difficult those requirements were going to get.

For now, Lidia needed to put together a statement to give to the magazine's publisher and its shareholders. The most recent edition, with the story of Harry's jealous tantrum, had outsold all previous weeks of the competition. This week, Harry had been induced - Lidia didn't want to say "forced" - to go shopping for Ginny in Indecent Alley and the editor had no doubt that speculation about his purchases would fuel yet another buying frenzy. The shareholders would like that and she'd already received an owl full of praise from the publisher.

But Lidia had no intention of taking advantage of Harry's predicament to sell magazines. It might be only embarrassing invasions of his privacy now, but the Aurors hadn't minced words when they'd warned Lidia that they expected things to get worse. There were still six weeks left in the contest and she couldn't even begin to imagine what "worse" might look like. She had a feeling that Harry understood a lot more, though.

There was a knock on the door and without waiting for her answer, two Aurors entered with Marietta. Everyone seemed calm and Lidia relaxed a fraction. "Almost everything checks out," one of the Aurors said. His name was Lee, Lidia thought. She gave him a sharp look.

"Almost?" she asked.

The other Auror - Lisa - nodded. "Miss Edgecomb was a bit confused about one issue. Apparently you told her that Harry Potter would be sending her any changes he had to the stories about him; that he'd use a Personal Product Portkey to communicate?

Lidia nodded. "He's the only competitor with the right to veto content - anything at all - before publication. He made one small change a couple of weeks ago but that's all." She frowned, realizing something. "He couldn't have liked the story about Ginny and Quidditch though, could he?" she asked. "Did he try to change anything?" She looked at Marietta. The girl shook her head.

"That's what I told them; Harry never sent me anything besides the one comment he had about the gala - there was a photo I removed." She wrung her hands, and Lidia could see they were shaking. "There was nothing else."

"Harry insists he tried to have a second item removed from that article, and that he and Ginny flagged more than half of the article at the Harpies stadium for removal. But Miss Edgecomb has no record of ever getting those messages." Lisa spoke deliberately, her eyes on Marietta's hands. Lidia nodded slowly.

"I see," she said. "Do you need anything from me?" She wasn't sure what the Aurors were suggesting but no one seemed about to arrest anyone so she let them lead the way.

"We need to review your supply of Portkeys and the record of every one that has been sent for the contest," said Lee. "Can you show us where you store everything?" He was looking solely at Lidia and she understood that Marietta needed to be left out of the next part of the investigation. She stood up. "Marietta, can you please complete an interim sales report for this week? I need to send it to our publisher." Normally the sales report wasn't prepared until the end of the week but this project would keep Marietta occupied for the next few hours. She nodded at the Aurors. "Please follow me," she said.

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"Damn!"

Bill smashed the book down on the table in frustration. Victoire startled and then looked up from where she was playing on the floor and began to cry. Bill grimaced and reached down to pick up his daughter. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said, rocking the toddler against his chest. "Daddy will try to be quieter."

"'Arry and Ginny will be 'ere soon with their book; I'm sure you will find something then." Fleur came into the room with Victoire's milk, wisely not saying anything about her husband's outburst. He'd been consumed with trying to figure out how Harry's contract to enter the Magical Monthly competition had been replaced with another for almost a week, and tension was mounting. He was no closer to figuring out what had happened and had finally reached out to Harry and Ginny, although he'd been trying not to bother them. They had enough pressure on them already, he told Fleur. But Bill had been looking through a copy of the second edition of Twelve Ways and pouring over the original contract and finally he had to admit that he needed to talk to Harry and his sister.

He took the bottle from Fleur and settled on the sofa with Victoire. Her tears were already forgotten and he smiled fondly down at her small face as she eagerly sucked on the milk. "I want to compare Harry's book to the one the rest of the competitors are using. The Aurors have already talked to the book's author and publisher; neither had any idea about a third edition, which means that the switch was made by someone who somehow wrote and enchanted a new book." He looked at his wife. "I'd like you to take Victoire away from Shell Cottage while I talk to Harry and Ginny," he said. He knew Fleur would understand that his request had nothing to do with protectiveness towards her and everything about their daughter. Fleur nodded.

"I will take 'er to Andromeda's," she said. "If you need me, send a Patronus and I'll return." She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Don't be too 'ard on yourself," she said before leaving. "It will be easier to find what is 'appening if you don't only try to look for what you did wrong; they might be expecting that."

Bill turned Fleur so he could kiss her more thoroughly without crushing Victoria between them. "Thank you for reminding me of that," he said. "I just hope that when I do figure out what's going on, it's not as bad as I fear."

Fleur gave him a long look. "With 'Arry, it's usually worse," she said.

Bill nodded. "I know. And now that Ginny's involved . . ." he didn't let himself finish, just kissed Fleur again. "I'll send you a Patronus," he said.

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When they arrived at Shell Cottage, Ginny thought that the look on Bill's face was again the same she'd been seeing on Harry's for the past few days. "It's not your fault," she said bluntly before grabbing a pumpkin juice out of the icebox and sitting at the kitchen table. "Any more than it's Harry's, so you need to stop thinking that way."

Bill sighed and sat down. "Fleur told me the same thing," he said.

"Well I hope you listen to her more than Harry's listening to me," said Ginny. She'd been thinking about it since the night before, when Harry's edginess had bubbled over into a night of a lot of pacing and very little sleep. Ginny hadn't even tried to talk to him in that state, just listened as he worried about what would happen when the next magazine edition - full of photos and a story about Harry visiting Indecent Alley - hit the stands. And from there he'd moved onto concern about what the next chapter - the seventh - would require. The table of contents revealed that the topic was "Apologizing," and Harry's thoughts had run wild about what exactly he was going to be required to apologize for.

Harry sighed. "I'm trying, I swear," he said. The stress showed plainly on his face. "It's not like I've not been here before," he said. "But this is the first time I'm forced to bring Ginny and others along with me."

"Well look at it this way," Ginny said. "This time we know something is wrong and what we have to look for, don't we? I keep thinking that whoever's behind this can't be that smart, if they gave us a fucking instruction manual."

Harry opened his mouth and closed it again. He shook his head. "It's not . . ." he began.

Bill jumped up. "Yes it is," he said. "That's what I was missing. Damn." He held out his hand. "Can I have the book?

Harry handed it over and Bill took it over to his desk in the corner of the room and waved his wand over it, muttering things Ginny didn't understand. After a moment, he shook his head. "Fuck." He turned to look at the two of them.

"We've been looking at it wrong," said Bill. "We assumed that when you opened the third edition, a second contract was created and you had to follow both. But that didn't happen." Bill grimaced. "I should have realized it when Fawn and Archer began losing their magic."

Harry stood up. "What do you mean? Do you know why they're affected too?"

Bill held out the book. "It's bound you," he said. "You can't stop reading until you've finished every chapter and done what is says, and Fawn and Archer have to keep documenting it." He held up his hands in defeat. "I don't know why, but it doesn't matter that the book is telling you what to do, that it's giving you a road map. Lidia could end the contest tomorrow for everyone else and it wouldn't matter; you can't stop."

Harry sat down heavily and Ginny could see on his face that he understood the implications of what Bill was saying. "So it's rather brilliant of them after all," he said. "I can't stop tying to charm Ginny - according to the book's rules - and even if she and I agreed we wanted to stop, and agreed to face the consequences, we'd be dooming Fawn and Archer too. They know I won't do that."

Bill nodded. "It looks that way." He picked up the book. "When are you going to be able to read the next chapter - number seven, is it?"

Harry leaned into Ginny. "Sunday," he said. "Do you want to hold onto it until then?"

Bill nodded. "I'd like to show it to Tulip again, get her to confirm," he said. He looked uncomfortable. "Do you uh, want anything to eat?"

Harry shook his head but didn't speak. He played with Ginny's glass of pumpkin juice and rocked back and forth in his chair. Ginny looked at her brother. "Thanks Bill," she said quietly. "I think we're going to go home."

Harry finally spoke. "I'll . . . I'll send a message to Gawain, tell him what you figured out," he said flatly. Ginny knew he was trying to process what he'd just learned without letting Bill see his stress. She squeezed his hand.

"Give our love to Victoire and Fleur," she said.

Harry went straight to the library when he and Ginny returned from Shell Cottage. She followed him and sat silently on the sofa while he rifled through the shelves, pulling off the books on dark magic that they'd put away weeks earlier. He floated one over to Ginny. "Can you see what it says about the consequences of breaking a magical contract?" he asked. "I'm going to look at the different ways to fight compulsion." He sunk down in a chair and began reading.

Ginny held the book in her lap and silently watched Harry read. Even in the dim light streaming through the curtains she could see the white of his knuckles as they grasped the volume. His eyes darted back and forth so quickly across the pages Ginny doubted he was absorbing a single word. After a moment she put her own book aside and stood up. "I want you to hold me. Please."

She wasn't sure Harry's heard her at first; his eyes didn't leave the page. But then he closed the book and put it to the side. Without a word, Harry stood up and walked over to wrap his arms around her. Ginny put her head against his chest. "Are you scared?" he asked. "I don't want you to be."

Ginny shook her head. "I'm not," she said, and it was true. "We know a lot more now, and we have everyone to help us." She looked up at him. "I'm wary. And I don't want you to take everything on yourself even though I know that's what you're going to try to do."

Harry rested his chin on her head. "You know me too well," he said.

Ginny huffed. "I hope so. And I hope you know me well enough to know I'm not going to let you."

In response, Harry tightened his arms around her. "I don't think I could do this without you even if I wanted," he said softly. "I need you."

Ginny felt a small measure of relief that Harry was being open with her. He pressed against her and they swayed together in the room. Just when she thought he was going to lead her up to the bedroom he sighed. "You still need to open the packages," he said.

"I thought buying them was enough," Ginny said. "Fawn and Archer were there and they got their photos and story." She'd hoped that Harry's success in Indecent Alley - if you could call it success - would earn them a few quiet days before the next magazine came out. He'd barely slept the night before and Bill's news from earlier was only going to ramp up Harry's resolve to be everywhere and try to figure out everything at once. He didn't look at her as he responded.

"I don't want the first time you see . . . those things . . . be when you read the magazine," he said. "And in case it's something else I need to do for the book, I don't want to wait until one of us has lost their magic again to find out. That's not fair to Fawn and Archer."

Ginny wasn't surprised that Harry's thoughts had gone immediately to the two people who had been unwittingly trapped in the book's curse along with them. Bill had been right that it was likely not an accident, the way Fawn and Archer were involved.

"This all would have been a lot easier if we could have figured out how to satisfy the book without it being published," she said. "You could have done what it required in private - buying those things, getting in a fight with me, whatever else the later chapters say, and no one would have needed to know."

Harry abruptly pushed Ginny out of his arms. "That wouldn't make it okay," he said flatly. "Yes, I'd prefer not to have Fawn and Archer in danger but there is nothing better about the fact that I'm still expected to do terrible things to you whether people see it or not." He shook his head. "Because I won't. I'll figure something else out."

"We'llfigure something else out Harry," she said firmly. "But we can't think about that until we know what the next chapter says, and we won't be able to read it until Sunday. So let's go look over what you bought me and worry about the rest later." Ginny hoped her voice boded no argument. She knew that left to his devices, Harry was likely to try to figure everything out on his own regardless of how wise - or not - it was to do so.

"We should call Fawn and Archer then," Harry said dejectedly. "Maybe photos of your opening the packages won't be quite as horrible as the ones of me buying the things in the first place."

"I know there are a number of things you'd rather be doing on a Friday night," Ginny said. She'd been hoping for time alone with Harry before what promised to be a particularly hard weekend and week.

"Just one thing," Harry said. He pressed himself briefly against her and then backed up and picked up his wand. "Let me call Fawn and Archer."

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"What time does the draft copy come out?" Harry knew he'd asked the question before but he wasn't sure he'd heard Ginny's answer

"Probably another hour or two; they've been arriving late Saturday afternoon, haven't they?" Ginny's voice was patient. Harry stopped pacing and flopped onto the sofa with a huff.

"Not that it matters; I don't suppose we can ask for changes anymore." Again, Harry knew he'd said this already and again, Ginny pretended not to notice.

"I don't know; it might be worth a try if there's something particularly over the top," she said calmly. "If the rest of the article does what the book wants from you then I don't see why it would be a problem to remove the excess."

Ginny had been exceedingly understanding the entire day, a posture Harry found at once soothing and frustrating. He knew she wouldn't hesitate to dress him down if - when - he needed it but also that she was giving him more latitude than usual until he reached that point. Part of him wished she'd just tell him he was being a prat and that there was not much they could do right now to change their situation. He'd had a long Floo call with Bill and another with Gawain and the team of Aurors working on the case, both of which had left him feeling out of sorts. There was nothing to do, everyone agreed, besides continue to follow what the cursed book said and hoped that some clue revealed itself. The Aurors had finished interviewing all the contestants and everyone - even Blaise - had been cleared. This more than anything had caused Harry's ire; he'd been certain that Zabini was behind what was going on.

"It'll be a waste of time to try," he said petulantly. "I bet the book wants to keep me guessing how far I need to go, that seems like something it would like." He picked up a cup of tea Kreacher had brought earlier and then dropped it back on the table without taking a sip. "Fuck all this."

"Save the anger for next week, Harry," said Ginny crisply.

That made Harry pause. "What did you say?" he asked slowly.

Ginny must have heard the odd timbre in his voice because she gave Harry a wary look before answering. "The theme for next week's chapter is 'apologzing,' isn't it? I just meant that if you're going to get upset about something, do it when we can use it." Her voice softened. "We don't have a lot of things to fight about; let's save our frustration for the contest."

"Give . . . give me a second," he said heavily. "Don't speak." He sat down on the sofa and put his head in his hands, forcing himself to breath more slowly. He felt the end of the sofa move; Ginny must have stood up. She didn't say anything and he used her silence to imagine how she'd look, watching him and waiting. She understood his moods and trusted him enough to let him work through whatever it was he needed to do. Hermione would have kept asking questions and thinking out loud and making it generally more difficult for Harry to get his head around what he was working on. Her behavior was perfect for Ron, who tended to need to talk and talk and talk to figure things out. When Ron's impulsivity ran up against Hermione's difficulty with silence, it could be explosive. But that didn't happen much any more and never as bad as the night he'd left them on the Horcrux hunt. Now, thinking about Ron's ability to look strategically at a problem was calming, and that was what Harry wanted - to know he could calm himself. He opened his eyes and sat up. Ginny was looking through one of the books on Dark Magic. "Thank you," he said. "I'm okay." He moved over on the sofa and held his arms out.

Ginny sat down next to him. "What was that about?" she asked, snuggling into his side.

"Something you said," Harry sighed. "About saving my anger." He looked at her. "I was worried that it was the book, that it was makingme feel angry at you." He put his lips against Ginny's hair and breathed in for a moment. "I needed to figure out if it was evolving again."

"Oh." Ginny was quiet for another moment, considering. "And do you think it is?" she asked.

"I don't," said Harry. "But thank you for giving me the space to realize that. I was able to calm down when I needed to." He touched her jaw. "Do you think the book was making me angry?"

Ginny shook her head. "You were too in control, even mad," she said. "And you weren't really mad at me." She gave him a small smile. "Maybe a little bit," she said. "But mostly because I was being too understanding and it was making you feel guilty about being mad in the first place."

Harry groaned and fell back against the sofa cushions. "Damn you're good," he said. "I mean, I know you were, but still." He gave her a sheepish smile. "Keep being good," he said.

Ginny kissed him. "I'll be good," she promised. Her voice dropped. "And I'll be good to you, too."

Harry knew what Ginny was asking, but before he could even form the sentence - let's go upstairs and get naked -a Personal Product Portkey dropped a sheaf of papers on the table in front of them. It was wrapped in the same brown paper with the Magical Monthly logo shining in one corner but this time there was a bright orange band around the center too. Harry pointed at it. "Extra wards; Bill and Tulip and the Aurors are checking everything sent to us now, not that it really matters." The damage was already done; Harry wasn't sure what anyone could do to keep it from getting worse. Pushing aside his maudlin thoughts, he ripped open the package.

The draft article about Harry's trip to Indecent Alley was both even worse than and also just what he'd expected. It was what he expected because how could it not be embarrassing and horrible? The photos made him look uptight and uncomfortable, and in one, what had been shock at the store owners explanation of Quidditch-themed cock rings that looked like scoring hoops, the angle of his face somehow made his disgust look leering. And then they'd gone and published the photo of Ginny unwrapping those rings at the kitchen table - Harry had refused to bring them up to the bedroom. He stared in horrified fascination as over and over, Ginny pulled the largest ring out its packaging and held it up to the light. When it had happened for real and now in the photo, Harry could tell how uncomfortable Ginny was, but he couldn't help but wonder if ordinary readers would see it too. The thought that there were soon going be thousands of strangers getting a front row view into a false depiction of Harry and Ginny's sex life made him feel sick. After tomorrow, there would be nothing he could do to convince the public that he and Ginny didn't regularly use cock rings and stinging vibrators and magical handcuffs; the team of Aurors and curse-breakers working on the case had decided that it would be too risky for Harry to repudiate anything he'd done. The information had to be out there, for everyone to believe.

Ginny didn't even try to find parts of the article that weren't as bad, and for that Harry was grateful. Whether because she knew he wouldn't believe it or because there just wasn't a single redeeming quality about the story, he didn't really care. It was what it was. He said as much.

"We're just going to have to deal with it, and the public gawking," he said, closing up the pages so he wouldn't have to look at them again. Have you warned Gwenog?"

Ginny nodded. "She's sympathetic, but not too concerned. I guess it's a good thing that plenty of Quidditch players have done worse. It'll be embarrassing for sure, but it's not going to jeopardize my job."

Harry blew out a breath. "Good," he said.

They did not make love that night. The experiences of the past week felt too raw and present in the room to Harry, but it was a rare night alone for the two of them, and he didn't want to disappoint Ginny. She made it easy for him. "Hold me?" she asked, sliding up against him under the blankets. There was nothing suggestive in her tone or actions. He gathered her into his arms and she twisted to look at him. "Is this okay? If we don't do anything else?" She gave a small grimace. "I keep thinking about those . . . things downstairs."

It's more than okay," Harry agreed. "I do too." He shuffled so they were facing each other. "I know it shouldn't matter what everyone else thinks; we know it's a lie and so does everyone we care about." He touched her cheek. "But it does matter."

Ginny took his hand and slowly kissed along the side. "Of course it does," she said. "But knowing that you and I are in this together is what's going to get us through." She spoke with such confidence that it made Harry feel warm and for a moment he believed her completely. Rationally he knew it wasn't going to be that easy but it was a relief to just let the thought float there for a while. He stretched, and kissed her on the nose.

"Okay then," he said. He snuggled Ginny more deeply into his arms and closed his eyes.

Hours later, Harry awoke. The house was dark and quiet; none of its many wards had tripped, but he was almost immediately wide awake, wondering what had disturbed his sleep. For once it hadn't been a nightmare. His mind felt remarkably clear and he lay quietly for a moment, listening to Ginny's even breathing before smiling wryly to himself. Moving carefully so not to disturb her, Harry wriggled across the mattress and out of bed before heading to the loo. On the way back from the bright bathroom, he walked nearly blind through the dark and misjudged exactly where the bed was, tripping forward and knocking something heavy off his bedside table. It fell on his foot and he swore; all the noise waking Ginny. She sat up quickly, the end of her wand already lit before Harry could tell her that everything was fine.

"What happened?" she asked. Her eyes were still filmy with sleep but her voice was sharp.

"Tripped," he said. "Lumos." His wand light joined Ginny's. Harry's copy of Twelve Ways lay face open on the floor. "Figures," he muttered, reaching down to pick it up. An image caught his eye. He looked back and forth rapidly at the page, and then swore again.

"Harry?" Ginny scooted herself to the end of the bed and looked over his shoulder.

"Chapter Seven is open now," he said. He sat heavily on the bed and stared at the illustration. The figures were clearly in the midst of an argument, but that wasn't the problem - Harry had expected that he and Ginny were supposed to fight this week. No, what was wrong was that every few seconds, steam came out of the wizard's ears and he reared back before smacking the witch across her face. Harry shook his head. Apparently he was going to be losing his magic because there was no way and no circumstance under which he would ever hit Ginny in anger. "Forget it," he said out loud.

Ginny frowned at the page, and by the fact that she wasn't immediately trying to suggest that the picture didn't mean Harry would be required to hit her he knew she was as concerned as he was. After a long moment of silence she nodded and then looked at him. "You have to," she said. "You have to hit me."

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Harry paced back and forth in his office. It was nearly seven in the evening, well past the time he'd normally leave to go home. He and Ginny should be cooking dinner together, talking about their respective days, joking, laughing, maybe letting dinner burn while they got lost in each other. Instead, for the third night, he was hiding at the Ministry like a coward.

Another bright orange memo flew into his office and fluttered around before landing neatly on his desk to join the pile of others there. Orange was the color used for messages from the public when they wrote to Ministry employees. Before now, Harry had gotten maybe three in his entire career, and two had been to ask him if could get the sender tickets to a particularly popular Harpies' game. Even with his fame, Harry's individual job as an Auror just wasn't worth many people's time.

Except that his visit last week to Indecent Alley had apparently changed that. Suddenly Harry was being heralded in the press as the Ministry's "sexiest Auror" and requests for interviews, photos, even his underwear were pouring into his work and the offices of Magical Monthly. Robards had prepared an edict that no one in the Auror office was to participate in betting on the Twelve Ways contest and all money collected in earlier weeks was quietly contributed to NewMagic. Dozens of "reading parties" had cropped up around Britain in the past week, made up of interested witches and wizards who banded together to pour over every word and photo documenting Harry's life and comparing it to those of the other competitors'. Ron had sent Harry a message that he and Hermione were refusing all requests for extra interviews, including the ones that were offering a lot of money to spill even more information about Harry. Neville and Hagrid and Luna had agreed to refuse such requests as well. Harry assumed that Blaise and Romilda were probably raking in money from every news outlet they could.

If Harry hadn't been so wrapped up the mess facing him in the current week he might have recognized the shift in attitudes and behavior among the public himself. It had become a spectacle, but one Harry was only partially aware of, and cared about even less. He swept all the orange memos into a drawer. It was time to go home and see Ginny.

Harry wasn't surprised that Ginny was sitting in the kitchen waiting for him; he hadn't expected that Fawn and Archer would be there too. The room smelled rich - like stew - but there was no evidence of a meal on the table. Harry hadn't had an appetite the past few days and now the heavy scent of onions and beef was cloying.

He stood awkwardly just outside the fireplace looking at the group; his thoughts had been revolving around grabbing Ginny into his arms and confessing that he knew he'd been a prat. Now he held back, certain that sort of apology was not what the book had in mind. His mouth worked anyway.

"Sorry," he said. "That I'm late. I know I'm late. Tonight." He wasn't sure if he was speaking to Ginny alone or everyone.

"We were wondering if you'd show up." Fawn spoke with a challenge in her voice and Harry couldn't blame her. If he couldn't perform the way the third edition required, she stood to lose her magic. He understood that completely.

"I'm not going to hurt Ginny," he blurted anyway. He couldn't let it go unsaid.

"Harry," Ginny began. Her face was unreadable, and that was unnerving. He shook his head.

"You know I won't," he said. "It's not up for discussion." He turned to Fawn and Archer. "I'm sorry, but we'll have to figure something else out. The Aurors are already working on it." Harry did not know anything of the sort, but Fawn and Archer wouldn't know he was lying, and it would buy them all some time. "I'm sorry," he said again, aware of the irony of his apologizing to the two of them instead of Ginny.

"Harry." Ginny spoke again. He didn't like her tone, but when he looked at her, Ginny's eyes were softer. "We can't wait for the Aurors," she said bluntly. "It's already Wednesday. Fawn said she's had trouble with simple spells all day. Archer too. And they're getting weaker. The longer you've ignored everything, it's gotten worse." The photographer and reporter both nodded but didn't speak, and Harry suspected they'd agreed to something with Ginny before he'd arrived. He cursed inwardly that he hadn't thought of that possibility.

"I think we can," he started. "It's only Wednesday." Halfway through the week; surely they had more time. "There's no reason that we have to . . . right now. It can wait."

Ginny shook her head. "It's Wednesday night, Harry. We need to start talking about it. You and I don't fight a lot as it is, and now we need to have a big one." Her voice dropped. "And you need to be physical with me somehow." She gave him an unwavering look. "You know that's what we need to do."

Harry threw up his hands. "I can't just manufacture a fight with you, Ginny. "We aren't Ron and Hermione." He closed his eyes. What had he and Ginny ever fought about? The last - the only - thing he could think of was that moment in the Room of Requirement as the Final Battle began. He'd sided with her family in telling her she couldn't join the fight. But it hadn't really been an argument; Ginny had given in right away. When she left later to join in Harry hadn't tried to stop her. Had they fought since then?

"It's not all about you anymore, Harry." Ginny had stood up from the table. "We're all in this together now and we all have to make sacrifices."

The word stung; Harry had made the ultimate sacrifice - or at least he'd tried to - so that no one else had to die. Fred had died anyway, and Remus and Tonks and so many others. He wouldn't let Ginny face a sacrifice too, even one that didn't require death. He shook his head. "I won't," he said. "I can't."

Ginny didn't give up. "You let Ron do it," she pointed out. "First year he got himself knocked out in that chess game and you didn't try to stop him." Her voice held some of Fawn's challenge now.

Harry shook his head, frustrated. "That was different," he said.

"Of course it was," Ginny shot back. "Ron was a child." She crossed her arms. "I'm an adult. And more importantly, I'm supposed to be your partner, and not just in this damned competition." Her eyes blazed. "Aren't I allowed to have a say?"

"That's just it," Harry said fiercely. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement where Fawn and Archer were sitting. He couldn't focus there though. "You're my partner, my other half. I love you." He shook his head. "It's not like Ron."

Ginny wouldn't give up. "It's more," she said. "And you know it. And you didn't answer my question. Are you telling me I don't get to have a choice here? Or Fawn, or Archer? You get to decide everyone's fate?"

"I just need a moment to think!" Harry didn't mean to yell. "You're telling me I have to hurt you, and acting like I should just do it, that I shouldn't be bothered by it." He shook his head. "Why should I be okay with that?"

If Harry had expected Ginny to soothe him, and tell him that no, he didn't have to be okay with any of this, he was wrong. Her gaze grew steelier. "Why are you okay putting me before innocents? I understand what's at stake and I'm prepared for the consequences." She flicked her eyes at Fawn and Archer. "They aren't, and it's not fair to expect that of them."

Anything Harry could say next would be terrible. It was wrong as an Auror and as a person; even if he couldn't help but care more for Ginny than two people he'd only met months before. Saying it out loud would be the height of insensitivity, not to mention completely at odds with the vow he'd taken as an Auror.

"You're treating me like a child, Harry." Ginny voice was cold.

"And you're treating me like you expect me to be completely heartless," he shot back. Frustration, born of worry and feelings of impotence and several days of little food, bubbled up inside of him. "It wouldn't be any easier for you."

"I did it though," said Ginny. She paced back and forth behind the table, glaring. "You asked me to let you go and I did. I didn't tell you that you weren't allowed to leave, that my feelings for you trumped what you had to to for everyone else." Harry opened his mouth to speak and Ginny held up her hand. "And don't try to tell me that it was different, or that we were too young to really know what we wanted." She shook her head. "It's not different, and it really hurts . . .it really pisses me off to know that after all this time, you really don't see me as your equal."

"That's not fair and you know it," said Harry. "I mean, fuck, what exactly do you expect me to do? Grab a beater's bat and whack you across the arse? Slap you like the stupid picture in the book?" Harry turned away. "You're mental if you think I'm going to figure things out like that." He caught a swift blur of red out of the corner of his eye and Harry acted on instinct, throwing up a shield in front of himself to block Ginny's hex. He wouldn't let her goad him into a fight like this.

Only it wasn't a curse that came shooting across the kitchen and smacking into Harry's shield, it was a body. Ginny wasn't even holding her wand when she lunged at Harry, hitting the barrier between them hard enough that the cups on the drainboard rattled. Her head made a resounding smack and she staggered backwards, looking confused for a moment before her eyes grew glassy and rolled up into her head.

Harry dropped his shield and caught Ginny before she hit the ground. His heart was beating out of his chest as he lay her carefully down on the wood floor and put his hands on her face. "Ginny?" he said urgently. "Can you hear me?" There was already an ugly knot forming on her forehead. Harry touched it lightly with his wand, trying to remember the proper spell to use for head injuries. "Ginny?" Harry touched her cheek. "I'm so sorry."

A sudden flash of light made him jump. Archer was leaning over him with his camera, looking considerably more alert than he had when Harry arrived. "Don't mind me," he jauntily. "Just keep apologizing there."

Harry nodded numbly and bent over his girlfriend. Her eyes fluttered and she groaned. "Harry?"

"Shh," he said quietly, aware of Ginny's probable headache. "Don't try to talk." His own head cleared and he knew what to say. "I'm so sorry, Ginny. I didn't mean for you to get . . . " He stopped and cringed. "I didn't mean to hurt you." The words twisted his gut. It was a necessary admission, indeed, Fawn was scribbling wildly in her notebook and Archer still hadn't stopping taking photos. Harry felt sick.

Fawn handed him a damp cloth. "The spell is Cranifix,"she said

Harry touched his wand to Ginny's injury again and muttered the spell. The bump on her head shrunk but didn't entirely disappear. Ginny groaned again, but there was relief in the sound. She opened her eyes. "That feels better."

Harry wasn't sure he'd said enough. "I'm so sorry, Ginny," he continued. "You're right. I shouldn't have tried make your decisions for you." He shook his head. "If I hadn't, you wouldn't have been hurt."

Ginny reached up and touched Harry cheek. "It's okay," she said softly. "It worked." She turned her head gingerly and looked at Fawn and then Archer. "Thank you for staying quiet."

Fawn shrugged. "It wasn't hard, I really was starting to feel weak," she said. She smiled at Harry. "Thanks for fixing that."

Harry felt inordinately guilty. "I'm sorry to you both," he said. "I shouldn't have put Ginny before your safety. It's inexcusable." Briefly he wondered if he could be subject to discipline for his behavior. But Fawn was grinning now.

"Ginny told us exactly how you'd behave," she said. "And that she knew what to say to get you to feeling backed into a corner."

"She was right, too," added Archer. "Spot on."

A touch on his leg pulled Harry back to Ginny. "I know how much you hated it," she said. Her voice sounded a little stronger and Harry felt some of the knot in his belly ease. "I used that; if I'd been understanding you wouldn't have gotten angry enough."

"Did you mean for me to put of a shield?" he asked. "I thought you were going to hex me and try to get me to hex you back." He brushed his thumb gently against Ginny's forehead and was gratified that she didn't wince.

"I was hoping you'd just push me away from you," she admitted. She gave him a wry smile. "I guess it worked better than I planned."

Harry leaned over and kissed her. "I'm glad it didn't work any better than that though," he said. He looked at Fawn and Archer. "So you have enough?"

They both nodded. "I suppose i don't need to apologize myself, for what I'm going to write?" asked Fawn. "It's going to be pretty blunt."

Harry shook his head. "Can it really be worse than the cock rings?" he asked dryly.

Everyone laughed; the relief in the room was palpable. Harry especially felt like he'd passed some unknown test, beyond anything the book required. He had no illusions that things were going to get easier or better in the following weeks, but the tension of feeling at odds with Archer and Fawn had dissipated. He looked down at Ginny. "How are you feeling?"

She sat up slowly. "Still a little bit like my head's tender," she said. "But not dizzy." She touched Harry's cheek. "How about you?"

Harry knew what she was asking. "I'm good," he said truthfully. "Maybe just for the moment, but I really am." His stomach rumbled. "And I'm hungry. Is there any of that stew left?"

"All of it," said Ginny. "None of us felt like eating earlier." She let Harry help her to her feet. "There's my mum's bread too."

"Brilliant," said Harry. He looked at Fawn and Archer. "Well, don't just sit there, I'll warm up the food if you get the plates and things."

"You got it," said Fawn.