A/N: So my intention to have each book chapter be its own chapter in the story went out the window this week. I realized that the next two chapters were similar enough that merging them together made sense, and moved things along better. Thanks for reading; please review!

NewMagic Society

A Fair Magical Start for All Young Witches and Wizards

Dear Mr. Potter,

On behalf of the Trustees of the NewMagic Society, I'd like to thank you for your dedication to our mission for the past five years. Because of your support and willingness to lend your image to our cause, NewMagic has been able to provide a top-notch introduction into magical life for all young wizards and witches, regardless of their upbringing.

As you know, the Board was particularly enthusiastic about your selection of NewMagic as a beneficiary of your participation in the Magical Monthly 'Twelve Ways' competition, and over the course of the past seven weeks, contributions totaling nearly 200,000 Galleons have been made in your name. That money will be used to make real one of the long-standing visions of the Society: that of building a learning center for children of pre-Hogwarts age who might not have the proper magical support at home. Our planning committee is already hard at work securing a location for the development.

Our close relationship with you and its benefit to the NewMagic vision has made the Board of Directors particularly hesitant to reach out about recent concerns with your public image, but events of the last week have made those concerns impossible to ignore any longer. As you know, one of the challenges our educators face is fostering an understanding in Muggleborn witches and wizards that magic is never to be used to promote dangerous behaviors, particularly against the non-magical. Young wizards and witches are taught in no uncertain terms that they are not to take advantage of their abilities to gain power over others; even minor acts like using magic to cheat at a board game or sneaking a hex against a sibling during an argument are roundly condemned.

Imagine our shock when we saw that the most recent edition of Magical Monthly contained a story about you that displayed a use of magic against Ginny Weasley that does not in any way, shape, or form comport with the mission and values of NewMagic. We condemn any sort of domestic violence in the harshest terms, and even though Miss Weasley was not permanently injured, and you did apologize, there is great concern among the Trustees about the image promoted by the Society's continued association with you. Only your heretofore impeccable record has prevented an immediate decision to terminate our relationship. Please consider this letter a first and final warning. If we do not see immediate improvement in your public persona, we will have no choice to take more permanent action.

With kind regards,

Polaris Syphon

Chairman, NewMagic Society

Harry finished reading the letter out loud and stifled the urge to crumple it up. They were absolutely right, the Trustees of NewMagic were; his recent behavior did not reflect the values and mission of the organization. He was surprised they hadn't chucked him right there. He ran his hand through his hair. In the past week Harry'd gotten requests to lend his image to no fewer than three "gentleman's clubs", a magazine focused on magical body-building, and two rather raunchy pubs, among others. Most curious of all were the groups of fan witches who sent letters commending him on things like his 'show of masculine superiority' over his girlfriend, and worse. One had actually applauded the way he'd put Ginny in her place - the place being on the floor at his feet. That letter hadn't just been crumpled; he'd lit it on fire and then shot several spells at it. It was bad enough to know that there were men who believed batting a woman around like a Bludger was not merely acceptable, but desired, but to think there were women who believed in that behavior was nauseating to Harry. He'd vowed to Ginny that if - when - they managed to break the curse on the book, he'd make it a goal of his to work with NewMagic in the fight against magical misogyny. If NewMagic accepted him back, of course.

"I can't blame them." Ginny was the only one Harry had shared NewMagic's letter with, but he knew he'd likely have to show it to Lidia if things got any worse. The magazine would need to know if Harry's charity had unceremoniously chucked him out.

Ginny didn't try to disagree. "They're being more than fair," she said. "I just wish we could tell them the truth."

Harry shrugged. "It wouldn't matter; my behavior still reflects poorly on NewMagic, regardless of whether the trustees know the reason." That was the hardest part, disappointing people and organizations that trusted him. Aside from the embarrassment, he didn't care as much about the gawking public and what they thought. And Gawain still thought it better not to go public with Harry's situation. There were plans in the works to try to draw out the culprit and until then, Harry and Ginny were to put on their game faces and pretend to the public that everything was lovely.

"Other than NewMagic, everyone else who matters does know you aren't really like that," Ginny commented.

"We aren't really like that," Harry corrected. "And, I know. It's not like this is the first time I've been falsely represented in the press." It was ironic that his earlier experiences were making everything a bit more easier to bear. "It's not a particularly positive thing, but I'm used to the public believing the worst about me, just because some paper or other printed a story." He shrugged. "That all matters much less to me than keeping you safe does," he said. "And Fawn and Archer." Harry knew better than to leave them out. "We got lucky this time but I don't know that we will again."

"I keep trying to figure out what 'new skill' you're going to have to teach me," said Ginny. "I imagine it might be something you've learned with the Aurors."

"That's what I've been thinking too," Harry agreed. He frowned. Chapter Eight was titled "Teach Your Witch a New Trick", and the illustration showed the wizard standing behind the witch and holding her wand arm in his as he moved in a complicated motion. It didn't look immediately concerning, until Ginny noticed that the look on the witch's face grew more and more upset every time the wizard moved. The language in the chapter was offensive, but so far, no one had been able to determine if it actually heralded something dangerous. He turned to the page.

Stupid witches with no skill, no matter how much time you fill,

Try to teach them something new, you can can talk until you're blue.

Hold your temper, they are weak, and cannot learn just what you seek,

One day she will quit with ire,

But keep her 'round to tend your fire.

"I still think 'tending your fire' means something more than cooking for you." Ginny sat down next to Harry on the bed. It was a discussion they'd been having for two days. He shrugged. He was comforted by the fact that the book was ordering him to keep Ginny around, and hadn't spent much time thinking about what else that part of the verse meant.

"I still want to know what it is I'm supposed to teach you," he said. "It has to be something you aren't able to learn." He frowned. "But how do we know you can't learn it? If you give up too quickly, it's going to know." Harry had stopped trying to avoid talking about the third edition as a sentient being days ago; it was easier to assume that trying to outsmart it was futile anyway.

"And if you teach me something too easy and I master it, that won't work either," Ginny said.

Harry sighed. "I actually have a few ideas; I just have to runt them by Gawain first." He didn't mention that in any other circumstance, what he was going to ask of his boss would be immediately shot down and possibly even accompanied by a verbal warning for even considering it. He stood up. "Better get on that," he said reluctantly. But before he could think about exactly what he was going to say, a Personal Product Portkey appeared in the room and floated down to the bed.

"Is that another gala? What is Lidia thinking?" Ginny picked up the gilt and glittery square of stiff cardboard emblazoned with the Magical Monthly logo.

Harry read what was written on the front. "She's not thinking; she's doing what the Aurors told her to do," he said. "Good."

HPHPHPHP

Dam Clarke crowed with excitement when the invitation dropped onto the bed where he and Dynasty were lying naked. The Quidditch league's two week summer sabbatical plus the added excitement of the Magical Monthly competition had done wonders for their already robust sex life. He showed the invite to his girlfriend. "Looks like you'll be needing a new set of dress robes," he said.

Dynasty moved her hand across Dam's stomach and then slowly tickled her way lower. "So you can take them off in a coat closet somewhere," she agreed with a smirk. "The readers just loved that."

Dam put his hand on top of hers and placed it more purposefully. "I may need to come up with a better move this time," he gasped as Dynasty gripped him in the way he loved. "Did you see what Potter's been up to? I never would have thought him the type." His hips bucked. "That bit with the shield was really something, wasn't it? I've heard Ginny's Weasley's a firecracker but I never thought she was the type to bring out that sort of behavior." He let his head fall back onto the pillows. "Please get on top of me," he groaned.

Dynasty complied. "It's not what I've heard about Ginny either," she said thoughtfully. She began to move. "Or Harry either. They must really want to win; their votes doubled in the past week." She leaned forward and nipped at Dam's shoulder.

"Right now, I just want to win another orgasm," said Dam.

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"Olympe! Olympe!" Hagrid banged on the door. "Come on, open up; I thought you'd accepted my apology!" But there was just silence from inside. Given that it was his own home that his partner was currently holed-up in, Hagrid found the situation particularly disheartening. He banged again. I told yeh it was an accident; I thought the skrewts had been tamed! And yeh told the magazine you understood." He was quiet for a second, thinking. "Was that a lie?"

The door swung open. "Not a lie, but 'eet was what the reporter wanted to 'ear, non?" Olympe Maxime's head nearly skimmed the top of the doorway as she stood there, arms crossed. "Ze explosion ruined my favorite set of robes, and as you know, 'zey are not easy to find for someone of my . . . stature."

Hagrid ran his hand through his beard. "Yeah, well, I won't be trying to breed 'em again anyway; Newt told me it was useless. He's been trying for years to figure out how the males get close enough to the females to mate and he still doesn't know." He gave Olympe a beseeching look. "If Ginny could forgive Harry for accidentally smacking her in the head, you should be able to forgive me."

Madame Maxime stepped aside and let Hagrid enter his own hut. "'Ow do you know it was an accident? 'Ze article said he blocked 'er on purpose."

"I've known Harry since he was eleven; even longer if you count when I carried him to Dumbledore after his parents were killed," said Hagrid. "There is no way he'd ever hurt Ginny on purpose. He'd never hurt anyone on purpose, come to think of it."

Madame Maxime nodded. "Fleur, she says 'ze same," she admitted. "Still, 'eet is rather odd, don't you think?"

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"I wonder why Harry agreed to be in the contest if they were going to give him a cursed book." Luna leaned over the cauldron on her kitchen table, stirring the concoction inside.

Verity carefully poured in a packet of ruby red powder and then took a few steps back as a cloud of purple smoke bloomed up. "You've suspected since the first week that there was something wrong with Harry's book," she said. "Looks like you were right."

Luna nodded. "I was going to tell Harry last week, but I don't think he needs to hear it from me anymore. His radiance has been dimming; I've even been able to detect it through the pages of the magazine. She peered at the swirling concoction. "I wonder if he'd want some of our clearing draught?"

Verity kissed her girlfriend. "That's very kind of you. We can bring an extra phial of it to the gala."

Luna nodded. "Good idea."

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"It's too bad the competition isn't reversed; I could finally teach you to cook." Tina touched her husband lightly on his shoulder as she walked past him to their kitchen. "If you cared more about what you ate and how it's made, maybe you wouldn't have gotten me a new oven in here that's powered by Diricawl wing movement." She gave Newt a fondly exasperated look. "Didn't you know they only take flight once every three days?"

Newt shrugged sheepishly. "It didn't seem that important at the time," he said. "I don't mind eating my food cold."

"I know," said Tina. "But I like a hot meal every so often, especially if we're living in a suitcase that you tend to leave in unheated lockers at train stations half the time." She put two bowls of steaming soup on the table. "I built a fire with the extra branches the Mooncalf didn't use for its nest," she said. "But next time we renovate the kitchen, I want a proper cooker."

"Mmmhmm," said Newt vaguely. He was scribbling in a large book, squeezing the words around photos of flying arthropods that filled the page. "Do you remember if the Kedavra Hornet workers had two red stripes on their thorax or three? I want to make sure my notes are accurate."

"Two, I think," said Tina. "But I'd prefer that the hornets not be involved in whatever it is you have to teach me for the contest this week. It's supposed to be something I'm likely to learn easily, remember? So that my 'delicate ego is properly stroked?'" She shook her head. "Do witches really want that sort of thing these days? It sounds like something from when we were first courting."

Newt looked up. "Pardon?" he asked. "Did you say I have to teach you something?"

Tina sighed. It looked as if she'd be figuring out how Newt was to woo her again this week. Good think she loved the man so much.

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"You have two letters from Magical Monthly; have you seen them?" Hannah Abbott set a platter of sandwiches down on the table for her and Neville's lunch. "I'm pretty sure one of them is the gala invitation. Amity and Horace are very excited to be able to document another fancy party."

"I'm going to be more careful about what I drink this time," said Neville. "I don't want to get as carried away again. He smiled at Hannah. "How are your plants growing?"

"Wonderfully," said Hannah, kissing him on the cheek. "You're a brilliant teacher."

"I have a brilliant student," said Neville, turning red. He picked up the second envelope. "I wonder what this one is? Do you think they need to interview us again?" He frowned. "I wonder if they've discovered any other problems with the contest."

"You're lucky Ron told us about that," said Hannah with a shiver. "I don't like the idea that the book you're using to woo me might be trying to control you."

"I bet Harry likes it even less," said Neville grimly. "But so far everything looks fine with our copy." He ripped open the second envelope and read the contents inside. "It's from one of the chemists that works on beauty products for the magazine," he said. "Apparently they're planning a big article about skin care and want to interview me about the lotion that interfered with Ginny's ability to fly and about the uses and dangers of herbal ingredients in general."

"Sounds interesting," said Hannah. "Ginny was lucky you were able to figure out what was wrong."

Neville shrugged modestly. "I'm sure the Healers at St. Mungo's would have figured it out. Fortunately, the topical application of the plant doesn't cause serious injury."

"That is lucky," said Hannah. She handed Neville the invitation. "We need to RSVP to this."

HPHPHPHP

Ron pulled his head out of the Floo and sighed. Hermione brought him a glass of Firewhiskey and he drank half of it in one gulp. "That bad?" she asked.

Ron batted away some of the smoke swirling around his face. "Yes and no," he said. "I mean, of course my parents believed me immediately that Harry wasn't purposely trying to beat up on Ginny. But now they know about the curse, and that's not much better. Unfortunately, they're too used to their children being in danger." He started pacing around the flat. "I just wish there was more we could do to help. I keep thinking there's something I'm missing. Some clue that I should be able to figure out."

Hermione put her arms around Ron. "What did Harry decide to do for the 'teaching' chapter?" she asked. "Did he identify something Ginny shouldn't be able to learn?"

Ron nodded. "It's a very complicated spell he learned at the Aurors," he said. "One that took him over a month to master; I guess it has both offensive and defensive aspects at once." He shook his head. "But even getting it wrong can be dangerous so of course Harry is going spare trying to figure out how to protect Ginny but still satisfy his book."

"And now it sounds like we're all going to see the results of his efforts in public at the gala," finished Hermione. She shook her head. "This can't end well; we need to figure out a way to be ready to help them."

Ron leaned into Hermione's touch. "Thank you for understanding that."

HPHPHP

Romilda slapped the invitation down on the table with a shriek of delight. "Blaise! You didn't tell me that you were hosting the gala at your mansion!"

Blaise shrugged. "It's my mother's mansion," he corrected. "You know I prefer antiques over that neo-modernist look my mother insists makes her look less than half her age."

"She does look less than half her age," Romilda pointed out. "Less even, now that she's using all those fancy creams from Magical Monthly. I heard they've even almost gotten rid of Marietta's blemishes completely."

"Well," said Blaise. "At least she's got that going for her. Intelligent, that girl is not."

"She was in Ravenclaw," Romilda pointed out. "She can't be that stupid."

"Book smarts don't matter," scoffed Blaise. "Marietta needs more common sense."

"You'll see her at the gala; maybe you can tell her then," suggested Romilda. Blaise gave her a seething look.

"I don't need to talk to that . . . half blood about anything," he said. "You know that."

Romilda ignored him, wringing her hands. "I'm going to need to make appointments in Diagon Alley right away - it won't do to be seen in last month's jewels," she said.

"Then go," said Blaise in a bored tone. "Don't let me stop you."

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Ginny hated the fact that her fingers shook as she fastened the tiny buttons on her dress. She and Harry had selected it specifically for her ease of movement when wearing it and also for the fact that it had long sleeves and a neckline that covered more of her chest than a typical ballgown. It wasn't dowdy by any means - the fabric hugged and flared and swirled in the right spots - but neither was it as revealing as what most of the other witches would be wearing. That the modest design allowed Harry to cover Ginny as much as possible with protective wards he added directly to the dress itself was something that the two of them were keeping quiet. They weren't strong enough to neutralize serious hexes and curses - and certainly not the one she'd tried to learn all the previous week - but Harry was hopeful that the dress might be able to deflect some of the worst damage that might come Ginny's way.

She wanted to be hopeful too, but day after day of failure had taken her confidence. It was ironic that her inability to learn the complicated combination of wandwork and language that Harry had tried to teach her was exactly what was needed to satisfy Chapter Eight, and that that it was that same failure that was likely to destroy their chances of making it through Chapter Nine. Or, it would have been ironic if Ginny wasn't as convinced as Harry that the book had carefully planned it that way.

"Are you almost ready?" Harry stood in the doorway of the bathroom and Ginny quickly lowered her hands. His eyes were dark and already darting around, looking for the danger he expected once they left his home. She turned her back to him.

"Nearly," she said, pleased that her voice sounded calm. "Can you please finish the buttons?"

Harry rested his hands on her back for a long moment; his fingers splayed across her ribs and wrapped around to brush the underside of her breasts. He took a deep breath.

"Remember, the first wand motion has to begin before you start the incantation, and then each syllable punctuates the eight flicks before you can move onto the next part with the double-time chant. I count in my head using that children's song so I don't lose track of where I am." He finished buttoning and moved his hands down to her waist.

"Thank you," Ginny said. She leaned into him. "I'll remember." She didn't bother telling Harry that he'd been giving her the same suggestions for the past week; it wasn't like she'd be able to follow them any better today, especially with so many people watching.

Harry nodded. "The healers and curse breakers will keep an eye on Fawn and Archer, so no need to worry there; just concentrate on the spells."

That was the part that had Ginny the most concerned. Week Eight had been disconcertingly easy, if failing over and over could be considered easy. Gawain Robards had been reluctant to allow Harry to teach her the complex offense/defense spell, but after Ginny had demonstrated for him that there weren't any others she had trouble mastering, he'd finally given in. Egotistically, she'd briefly wondered if even that spell would be difficult enough, a notion that was erased from her thoughts as soon as she saw Harry cast it. Done correctly, it created a thick, almost gluey mist around the caster and target that essentially vanished them from their present location into non-being until the caster performed the counter-incantation. It was a spell used to obtain information in emergency situations; moving inside the mist caused increasing amounts of pain, which was often enough to induce a suspect to give up answers while the Auror stood still and asked questions. Ginny had only succeeded in actually banishing herself and Harry twice. The first time she'd been immediately overcome with such terrible pain that Harry had had to perform the counter spell himself. The second time she hadn't been able to maintain control over her connection to reality and again, if not for Harry, Ginny wasn't sure where they might have ended up. He'd assured her that it was impossible to be stuck in non-being forever, but it had been unnerving nonetheless. And now, if she wasn't able to perform the spell correctly, she and Harry, and Fawn and Archer all stood to lose their magic.

The book had been quite clear. Chapter Nine was titled Share an Interest,and for the rest of the contestants, that literally meant any interest at all. Ron and Hermione were going camping in a deluxe new magical tent they'd bought. Neville and Hannah were taking a cooking class and Ginny'd heard that Newt and Tina would be renovating the kitchen in their suitcase-home. But as far as the third edition was concerned, the only interest that Harry and Ginny were allowed to share was the fight against dark magic. Ginny shivered, thinking of one of the lines in the chapter.

If she fails who might lose

Their magic or what he has to choose.

The rhythm of the verse was off and the Aurors and curse-breakers had been pouring over it for days trying to figure out what was at stake. All anyone could be certain of was that if Harry and Ginny were unable to share what he'd been teaching her, something bad would happen.

Ginny shivered, and Harry's arms tightened around her waist; she'd nearly forgotten he was still standing behind her. "I wish I could tell you that you didn't have to come tonight," he said. "I mean, I know you'd insist anyway," he continued quickly, guessing at Ginny's response. "But I wish you had a choice."

It was one of the main tenets of Harry's life, his insistence on giving others a choice, and anyone who didn't understand that would never fully be able to understand Harry. Ginny didn't think there were many other people in this world who could say with confidence that when faced with the hardest choice of all, they would make the right one. Harry had done it at seventeen and done it so that no one else had to. And now all choices had been taken away and only action was left, action directed by something - by someone - else.

"I love you," she answered. She turned in his arms. That was a choice she could make, and one that would never change.

HPHPHP

"It wasn't even the Aurors' idea to have the gala at Blaise's," said Harry as he and Ginny walked up the wide gravel path to the home's courtyard entry. "He offered, and Gawain decided it was safest to accept."

"Even if he's behind all this, it's better to keep your enemies close," said Ginny.

They were both talking conversationally, holding hands as they walked, and Harry was pleased to see no hint of stress on Ginny's face. He suspected it was taking her as much effort as it was for him. She looked around and whistled.

"I've seen some big houses - remember that party given by the owner of Puddlemere last year? But this is definitely something."

Harry had to agree. His first experience with the types of home favored by rich wizarding society had been that horrible night at Malfoy Manor, and his impressions hadn't improved a lot since then. He just couldn't understand the appeal of cavernous rooms and fussy, uncomfortable decor. But the Zabini mansion was something else entirely. Blinding white and boxy, it looked more like a pile of carefully arranged ice cubes than a place someone would want to live. Once inside, Harry found himself whipping his head around more than once, certain he was being watched, only to realize that he'd caught a reflection in yet another of the dozens of mirrors scattered about.

It was almost a relief to walk through several sterile rooms and into a central courtyard where the actual party was taking place. It seemed too big for the size of the home and Harry assumed it had been magically enlarged. While being surrounded by high stone walls didn't do much to soothe his nerves, at least they could see the sky. Ginny nudged her shoulder against his.

"I guess that center space is where we'll . . ."

"Demonstrate, yes," said Harry firmly, looking at a large open spot where the manicured grass was cut particularly short. Maybe if they thought of what they had to do as a presentation and not a test the worry about failing would be less. Maybe.

He looked around the guests for Ron and Hermione but before he found them, his eyes fell on a woman who could only be their host.

"Merlin's ironed pants," said Ginny. "Is that Blaise's mother?"

They walked over to a small group that included Newt and Tina. The closer they got, the more Harry had to rub his eyes to understand what he was seeing.

Harry had been in his sixth year at Hogwarts the first time he heard at one of Slughorn's dinners that Blaise had an exceptionally beautiful mother. He supposed that some people might use the word "beautiful" to describe the woman in front of them. The first word that came to Harry's mind was "artificial". The second was less flattering. True, Mrs. Zabini's caramel skin was flawless, but her features appeared carved and stiff, her eyes opened unnaturally wide and unblinking.

"That's . . . wow," said Ginny in an undertone. "I didn't know magic could do that."

"Magic and money," said Harry. "Lidia told me she funded the initial research into that new skincare line almost on her own."

As if she knew she was being discussed, Mrs. Zabini turned away from Newt and Tina just as Harry and Ginny approached. Harry reached out his hand and began to introduce himself and Ginny, but before he could speak, the woman stopped him.

"I know who you are, of course," she said, ignoring Harry's outstretched hand. "And that you are to be tonight's . . . entertainment." She paused. "You and you." Mrs. Zabini looked Ginny up and down. "Most red heads don't understand how to dress to reduce the brassiness," she said. "Black is a safe choice, of course." She peered closer. "What products do you use on your skin?" she asked. "You don't have the characteristic discoloration so common in those with freckles."

"Just the soap my mum makes," said Ginny with a touch of pride. "I've never needed anything else to keep my skin soft and . . . smooth."

"Hmmpf," huffed Mrs. Zabini. "We'll see how well that serves you in a few years, won't we?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned away, calling to one the house elves that one of the flower arrangements was unbalanced and needed be fixed immediately.

"Good one," Harry said in an undertone. "Makes me understand Blaise a bit more."

"And like him even less," said Ginny. She nodded across the courtyard where Ron and Hermione were talking to Bill and Fleur. They made their way in that direction.

Harry wasn't surprised to see that both Ron and Bill looked more tense than usual. They were two of the few people at the party who understood exactly what was going to happen later. What was a surprise that Lidia was with them, looking nearly as uptight.

Harry was used to the editor being nothing but cool, collected, and in charge. But standing with Bill and Ron and Gawain Robards and Kingsley Shackelbolt, Lidia looked uncharacteristically undone. Of course, she was still one of the most put-together people in the courtyard, but the worry lines around her eyes were new, as was the way she was wringing her hands as she talked to the others. When Harry and Ginny walked up she turned immediately to them.

"I've been filled in on tonight's plans," she said, some of her briskness returning. Then her lips twisted. "You know . . . you'll be able to . . . to do it?" She spoke directly to Ginny. "The way you're supposed to? Last week you had to fail, and the copy was gorgeous, I have to say." Lidia's hands twisted again. "Was any of that an . . . act?"

The hopefulness in her voice was not disguised, and neither was her obvious disappointment when Ginny shook her head. "I've never done the entire spell," she said bluntly. She lifted her chin. "But I plan to keep trying as long as it takes."

Ginny's bravado almost broke Harry's heart. He knew that three or four failures would likely be all Ginny could handle before she was too weak to continue. By the look on the other faces, he knew everyone else understood that too. But Lidia seemed cheered. She smiled at them all and patted Ginny on the arm. "I knew I could count on you," she said. She clapped her hands briskly. "I'll just go prepare my welcoming remarks; Ariadne Zabini wants me to include mention that the issue with her skincare feature will be coming out in a month. It's slated for the week after the contest wrap up."

Harry was startled. "We're done in a month?" He'd completely lost track of time.

"Less than a month," Lidia said. This is week nine. Only three more chapters to go after this one." There was more hopefulness in her voice and she gave Harry a look that had some of her old confidence in it. "I take full responsibility for this," she said. She grimaced and looked around the amassed crowd. "Whatever thisis. I know the curse breakers and Aurors are handling the investigation, but at the end of the day, the situation happened on my watch, and intend to do whatever it takes to make it right. Fortunately, there are only three more weeks after this one. I can't imagine too much else can happen in only three weeks." The hopefulness was back in her voice and now Harry understood it better. He gave an automatic nod.

"Not much else," he agreed. In his experience, terrible things could happen in only seconds.

Ginny squeezed his hand, twigging the lie immediately. "I think next week Harry has to cook for me," she said with fake brightness. "I'll be sure to get my mum to help out so he doesn't poison me."

Everyone laughed politely but Harry couldn't miss the way Robards' mouth tightened and Bill turned abruptly to talk to Tulip.

Pushing aside the thought of future weeks, Harry took a deep breath. "So, what's the plan for tonight?"

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Belatedly, Harry realized how dark it had become outside; the sky above them was an inky purple and the live fairy lights strung around the courtyard cast long, oddly shaped shadows but didn't provide much illumination. He peered across the lawn at Ginny's outline. She stood stock still and even though he couldn't see her eyes, Harry tried to take his own advice and imagine that she was looking into his as if no one else was around.

"I need more light; I can't see Harry." The panic in Ginny's voice pulled Harry out of the calm he was trying to create. Without waiting for anyone else to respond, he raised his wand.

"AccioSollux!"

Harry was surprised only for a moment that he wasn't the only one to have said the spell. The resultant light made the courtyard feel like it was mid-day and he could see both Bill and Robards lowering their wands from where they stood. He looked over at Ginny and caught her eyes, relieved he could see them now. "Better?"

She nodded. "Thank you," she said. Harry thought he was the only one who could hear the tremor in her voice until he saw Ron take several steps towards his sister. Hermione put her hand on his arm and leaned in to say something to him. After a moment he nodded and stood still, lips tense. Harry caught his eye. Ron looked at him for a moment and then at Ginny before taking a step back.

Harry couldn't look at any of the rest of the crowd; he didn't think he could stand seeing the expectation or worry on their faces. But looking at Ginny was nearly as difficult. When they'd practiced, he'd been able to give her directions and reassurance. He'd gone over wand movements again and again, had her practice the incarnations separately before having her try to put everything together. It hadn't worked, of course, but Ginny had been making progress, moving much faster than Harry, who'd taken a solid month to master the spell. He'd come home many nights bruised and sore and exhausted from the effort, hoping that Ginny would be home from the Harpies early enough to help him with the healing potions and salves that would make him feel well enough to head back to work the next day to try again. Of course Ginny hadn't been able to learn enough in a week, and with so much on the line, it was going to be infinitely worse than every time she'd failed when they were alone at Grimmauld Place. And Harry couldn't help Ginny here like he had when they'd practiced; he and Gawain had discussed it and agreed that the environment in which Ginny performed the spell had to be as real as possible. That meant no loving words of encouragement from her boyfriend.

The silence bloomed.

Harry stood still, watching Ginny. He could tell she was breathing a little too quickly and he had to resist the urge to call to her that she needed to relax. But the longer she was quiet, the longer Harry found it difficult to control his own nerves. He was certain that she knew the first wand movement and that the first words began on the fourth turn of her wand; the very start of the spell was the part Ginny was best at. And yet, she didn't begin.

A low hum of conversation began to buzz around them and Harry wished he could silence them all. Couldn't everyone see they were making it worse? A sudden buzzing by his ear. made him startle. Harry, launch a simple attack.Robards' words were succinct and Harry immediately understood. She was waiting for him. Carefully, he raised his wand and he saw Ginny tense.

Harry purposely spoke his Expelliarmusa bit more slowly than normal, and Ginny was easily able to step neatly to the right to avoid losing her wand. It was the prompt she needed though, and she quickly raised her own wand to begin the movements of the spell.

Almost immediately, Harry could tell Ginny was having the same trouble that had plagued her the previous week. The mist she created on her first three attempts was painful but not transformative, and Harry forced himself not to wince as he felt the grayness batter his skin even though he wasn't moving. From experience, he knew it was worse for Ginny, who had to swing her arm wide to dissipate the spell every time it failed; that she was able to keep it up gave Harry a small measure of comfort that maybe the wards he'd woven into her dress were working a bit. The spell melted away again and most of the pain faded to a dull ache, leaving Harry to stand and wait for Ginny to start again.

She was breathing hard, her face screwed up in a combination of concentration and pain. Harry knew that each attempt of the spell intensified its physical difficulty and Ginny would need to draw on all her strength to try again. Most others would have given up by now; there were even Aurors who had never been able to master the spell. Harry pushed that thought aside and took the moment to look for where Fawn and Archer were sitting with the curse breakers and Healers. Once he found them, he hoped Ginny didn't try to find them herself; it was obvious both were feeling the effects of Ginny's repeated failures. They were being tended to by a number of healers as well as Tulip and several other curse breakers, but not Bill. Harry wasn't surprised that he was standing much closer to the dueling field, eyes trained on Ginny.

"You can do it, Gin," Bill called. "Show Harry . . . show that arse what you're made of."

In any other circumstance, Harry would have grinned at Bill's comment. Now he was merely grateful that Ginny had someone to support her. Ron was there too, calling something to Ginny through cupped hands that Harry couldn't understand. He saw her eyes flick to Ron and a small smile quirk across her face. She nodded and took a deep breath.

This time, Ginny yelled the first part of the spell with determination. The mist that shot out of her wand to surround her and Harry was much thicker than before and he could feel the characteristic stickiness on his skin that told him Ginny had done this part of the incantation correctly. He forced himself not to move a muscle as the disconcerting feeling of moving into non-being enveloped them both. He was comforted that he could still see the rough images of the Zabini courtyard and the guests through the haze; Ginny had been able to maintain the connection with their place.

"That's . . . what did you do to me?" he called. Even moving his mouth to speak stung. He hoped Ginny understood what he was telling her. The next part of the spell, if done correctly, would give Ginny protection from the pain of the mist and allow her to question Harry. They'd worked out a script that sounded like a legitimate interrogation; after Harry answered Ginny's questions she would perform the final piece of the spell and bring them back to the present, with Harry frozen so that he couldn't "escape."

But Ginny had never gotten far enough to ask Harry questions and now he wondered if she remembered what they'd planned. Her face was again a mask of concentration as she tried to perform the movements that would give her relief from the bruising mist. Harry knew how difficult it was - the caster needed to make their movements quick and precise and ignore the pain long enough to gain some protection. It was where most Aurors failed.

Ginny moved her wand arm. The direction was right but sluggish and Harry wasn't surprised to see her face tighten with pain. She tried again, but only made it halfway through before she gasped and stopped. Her eyes caught Harry's and the desperation in them nearly made him give in.

When they'd practiced, he'd talked her through each step. Now he thought quickly. "So you caught me, now what?" he asked, trying to sound derisive around the pain of speaking. "I'd have thought you would have done that quick sweep by now. Don't the Aurors say it only hurts for a moment?" He gave a tiny shake of his head. "Or wasn't your teacher good enough?"

"He's . . . he's the best," choked out Ginny. She waved her wand.

Two things happened at once. To Harry's relief, some of the pain receded from Ginny's eyes. She still winced, but seemed to have been successful at shielding herself at least partly from the mist. More concerning was the fact that the vision of the courtyard faded considerably. Ginny looked around. "Harry," she said, panic in her voice.

"Ignore it," he said quickly. "Question me."

"It's hard," said Ginny. Her voice sounded oddly echoey. "I'm . . . I'm going to hurt you."

That was part of the plan; Harry had to move the way a real suspect might before Ginny asked her first question. He shifted, unable to stifle a sound of discomfort. Ginny's eyes widened.

"Are you okay?" she asked shakily.

"Fine," grunted Harry. He twisted his body as one might when trying to Apparate and managed to keep from crying out. "Don't you have something to ask me?"

But Ginny seemed unable to focus on their plan. She was staring at Harry with a look of horror on her face. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

The mist around them thickened. It pressed on Harry's chest and made it difficult to breathe. Ginny cried out as her own protection waned.

Harry remembered the words from Chapter Nine; they suddenly made sense.

If she fails who might lose

Their magic or what he has to choose.

If Ginny couldn't complete the spell, Harry would have to pull them out of it. But if he did that, he'd likely doom Fawn and Archer. Harry couldn't see them anymore, but he could envision them lying weakly on the ground while the healers and curse breakers watched helplessly as their magic drained away. But if he chose to wait and let Ginny keep trying, he feared things would get to the point where he wouldn't have the strength to save her. Harry knew that Robards and a few other Aurors were on alert and could pull him and Ginny out of non-being if needed. They hadn't told Ginny that, and no one knew what the repercussions would be if they had to be saved that way.

"Just fucking do it, Ginny," he said harshly. He had no trouble getting inside her head; after all, he'd been just as incapable of hurting her. "But ordering her to do it took every ounce of Harry's resolve.

A tear rolled down Ginny's cheek and that resolve wavered. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing.

"I . . . I know why you brought me here," he gasped, trying again. "But I won't tell you anything."

Ginny didn't respond but Harry could hear her breathing raggedly. He was getting lightheaded and wondered vaguely what Robards could see. Just give her a few more seconds . . .

"You . . .you will tell me." Ginny's voice was shaky but clear. "Where did you hide it?"

Inexplicably, the vision of a small velvet box flashed through Harry's mind.

"I don't have it yet," he spat out. "There . . . there wasn't time." It wasn't exactly what he was supposed to say - the plan was to name a receiving box at the Owl Post - but still, it was an answer. He opened his eyes.

Ginny was trembling, and only the nearly blinding pain prevented Harry from moving to her.

"It hurts so much Harry," she said.

"Then you have to get us out of here," he managed. He doubted they had much time left before the Aurors stepped in. He swallowed hard, hating himself for his next words.

"It's up to you to save me, Ginny. If you can't, I'm lost, and it will be your . . . your fault."

There was a bruise on Ginny's cheek; the mist was turning solid. But Harry could see that his words hit their mark. She shook her head. "No," she said. And then more loudly, "NO." She flicked her wand, screaming the incantation at the same time.

HPHPHPHP

"Why is it taking her longer? She had more protection than I did." The frantic voice was familiar, and so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. Harry. Ginny forced open her eyes, unsurprised to see the worry in his. She licked her lips. "I'm okay," she rasped.

Harry barely looked relieved. "She needs water," he called over his shoulder. He turned back to her. "Can you move?"

Ginny ignored him. "How are Fawn and Archer?" she asked.

Harry waved his hand impatiently. "Fine. Writing and photographing," he said. "But you . . ."

Ginny gave Harry a look and he sighed. "They recovered the second you brought us back," he assured her. He put his hand on her cheek. "Does this hurt?"

"Only when you touch it, Harry," she said, giving him a small grin. Truthfully Ginny felt like she'd been run over by a herd of Centaurs - twice. She tried awkwardly to sit up and didn't bother hiding her relief when Harry slipped his arm under her back and pulled her against his chest. "Don't try to move too much," he said. "Not that you'll be able to anyway."

Ginny ignored him and twisted to look at Harry's face. "But the spell?"

Harry smiled at her, although Ginny could see the pain in his eyes. "You did it," he said. "It wasn't pretty, but you managed it, just in time." He squeezed her to him and she couldn't help but squeak. The pressure immediately eased. "Sorry," he said, kissing her head. "You'll be sore for a couple of days."

Ginny wanted to melt into Harry and close her eyes, but there seemed to be a lot of people around. Someone touched her leg.

"Fawn and Archer say thank you," said Bill quietly. He looked at her and then Harry. "When we figure out . . ." He grimaced, looking around. "We'll talk later."

Ginny wondered if Bill or any of the Aurors had figured anything out; after all, wasn't that the point of having this party in the first place? Her surroundings seemed to be slowly popping back into place and she could see most of the guests milling close by, watching curiously. Harry helped her to her feet and she swayed precariously until Harry wrapped his arms more firmly around her.

"The healers want to see you," said Ron. He peered at her with concern. "But that was brilliant, Ginny." He shook his head. "I didn't realize how hard that spell is." He rounded on Harry. "What if she hadn't been able to do it? Would you have been stuck? At the end we could barely see you both - you were fading away." His voice wasn't quite angry, but almost. Ginny heard the concern beneath.

It was a sign of how well Harry knew Ron that he didn't show the slightest bit of offense at the question. He shook his head. "We would have made it back," he said. "There was a plan for that." Ginny felt Harry sigh and suspected he was considering how much to reveal to her about the danger they'd been in. "It would have been bad though," he admitted. "Whether I was the one to stop it or the Aurors. People would have been hurt." He looked at Ginny. "Can you walk? Once we get you checked out I want to take you home." There was almost a possessiveness in his tone.

Ginny nodded, feeling warm. "Just hold on to me," she said.

Ron kept talking; clearly rattled by what he'd seen. "Did it hurt a lot? It looked like it hurt," he said. "We could see you, but at the same time it was like you weren't there. And then you started fading, and it didn't look like Ginny could move." He shook his head. "I'm glad I left the Aurors before I had to learn that spell. I don't know if I could have done it."

"I couldn't have either," said Hermione. She looked slightly awed at Ginny's accomplishment.

"It wasn't easy," she admitted. The adrenaline was fading and Ginny suddenly felt the weight of what had just happened. She leaned more heavily against Harry. "Another minute and I wouldn't have been able to go on."

"Maybe if you'd had a different wand you wouldn't have had so much trouble."

Ginny hadn't seen Blaise approach, and by the way Harry tensed, she suspected he hadn't either. She was too exhausted to try to answer and was relieved when Harry did, his voice even and casual. "Why would she need a different wand?"

Blaise shrugged, equally casual. "That was a difficult spell - it caused quite a bit of damage to my mother's property, I see, and some wands are more . . . powerful than others." He raised his eyebrows.

"I see." Harry's arm tightened on hers and Ginny tried to keep focused. "And . . . where might she have gotten this wand?"

"My father could have made you a new wand, Ginny." Romilda was suddenly there too, linking her arm through Blaise's. "You should have asked."

Ginny wasn't sure, but she thought Blaise looked annoyed at his girlfriend's interruption. "Not just a new wand," he said slowly. "It would have needed to be more powerful too. A lot more powerful." Blaise paused. "It's been said you know of a wand like that, Potter. Couldn't be bothered to give it to your girlfriend? Maybe she wouldn't have almost fallen to pieces like that."

Ginny's head was swirling but she squeezed Harry's hand in warning. Blaise was trying to bait him. Her worry was unfounded; of course Harry knew that, and he answered Blaise with careful nonchalance.

"Ginny did brilliantly," he said calmly. "That's a spell even some Aurors can't master." He brushed his thumb across Ginny's back and she realized anew how sore she actually was. She made a small sound and Harry turned to her. "Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?"

"Exactly." Blaise kept speaking as if Harry hadn't turned his attention away. "Such a dangerous spell, I would have thought you'd want to give her every possible advantage."

"I had every possible advantage," Ginny said. "I had Harry." She stumbled then, her legs giving way. Harry caught her easily and swung her into a waiting chair.

"Can we continue this conversation later?" he asked Blaise. "Ginny needs the healers and then I'm taking her home." He nodded across the courtyard. "I'll make sure you are properly reimbursed for any damage we caused."

Blaise shrugged. "That's hardly necessary," he said dismissively. "And I don't think we have anything else to discuss. I just thought I'd point out my observations." He nodded at Harry. "Good luck with the rest of the contest."

Blase walked away, leaving Romilda to trot after him. Harry watched them leave, a pensive look on his face.

"Did you hear that?" Harry was speaking in a low voice to Gawain Robards and Bill, who'd apparently both been there too. Bill ran his hand down Ginny's arm.

"You were amazing, Gin," he said. "And I'm sorry I called Harry an arse."

Ginny didn't even remember that. "It's okay Bill," she said. The healer handed her a potion to drink.

"I heard," said Robards. "I'll let Kingsley know."

"It may be more of the same," Harry said. "Rumor and gossip."

"But consider the source," said Bill.

Ginny couldn't follow the rest of the conversation. Her head felt heavy. "Harry?" she slurred.

There was suddenly an arm under her legs and another behind her back and Ginny felt herself pressed against Harry's chest. "I need to take her home," he said to people she couldn't see. "I'll Floo you once she's resting."

If there anyone answered, Ginny didn't know. She wasn't aware of Harry saying other goodbyes or hear the words of congratulations from the other contestants. By the time Harry turned on the spot to take them back to Grimmauld Place, Ginny was sound asleep.