A/N: Hello all, I'm back again! From now on, I will always be writing multiple chapters before I update again. A quick note that I don't bother with trying to write in a French accent, but I do try to write Fleur how she speaks. It's just in English for simplicity's sake.
A few days later, Rita's article was published. Meanwhile, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were scouting locations to keep their eventual Animagus potions safety hidden but could not settle on a would-be spot. Back at the Burrow, Harry had just left the others to go outside; potential fallout from Rita's article was still on his mind. Ginny watched with sympathy as Harry letting out his frustration in the surrounding air.
"I'm not reading it if I can help it; she's going to glamorize everything," Harry growled.
"We need a vacation." Ginny mused as she embraced him from behind in a hug. "Harry, do you think Rita knows the whole truth about...me?" Ginny said in an anxious whisper.
"I don't think Rita knows the heavier stuff, but I know that you are worried." Harry acknowledged as he squeezed her hand, then he sighed. "A vacation... I'd love to do that, but the press already thinks we took a vacation, remember. Kingsley ran interference for me for a long time. I can't just leave him holding the microphone."
Ginny sighed slowly. "I hope you are right." After a few minutes of silence, Ginny spoke again. "Hang on, why would Kingsley use a Muggle talking device, let alone a small one?"
"I was metaphorical, " He turned around with an amused smile. "But that's not what a microphone is anyway. It's a voice amplifier used to speak to big crowds."
"Muggles have no shortage of alternatives to magic," Ginny said, shaking her head. She frowned at the trapped expression on Harry's face. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, Harry."
"You know that's not true, Gin. I can put it off, but no matter what being famous always catches up to me." He looked even sadder now, though he wasn't crying at all.
Ginny wore a determined face looking up into Harry's green eyes. "You let me worry about that. Now, what do you want to do the rest of the day, Harry?" She asked him expectantly.
Harry closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath. "I want to get away from everything and everyone; your Mum's going to read that article and then want more information like everyone else that reads it, and I just…" He trailed off as if stopping himself.
"You can say it, Harry. It doesn't make you a bad person to admit what you're feeling," Ginny told him reassuringly.
"Yes, it does." Harry countered, shaking his head in shame.
Ginny was sharp but quiet. "No, it doesn't! Now, please say it, Harry!"
Harry held her intensely encouraging gaze and felt wetness in his eyes; he whispered slowly, "I… don't care, Gin." He continued as if removing shackles that he had worn for years. "I don't care that people want information, I don't care about speeches or what the public thinks… I just don't care about my fame and the stuff that comes with it!" The last declaration was unapologetically blunt, and Harry found that he meant it.
Ginny emotionally unburdened herself too. "I don't care that my Mum is probably going to find out I was tortured and be upset or angry I didn't tell her about it," Ginny admitted just as bluntly. She gave Harry an emotional smile. "I want to get the hell away from everything just as much as you do." Her expression turned thoughtful. "Bill and Fleur are going to visit her family in France for two weeks, sometime near the end of July. She hasn't seen them since the wedding because of the war against Voldemort here."
"You're not suggesting we go with them?" Harry was unable to hide his discomfort at such an idea.
Ginny fought a laugh. "No, Harry; I thought we could house sit for them, though." She began to sway a little with him from side to side, whispering. "Shell Cottage is peaceful, away from everything, not a soul for miles. Just the sort of thing we both need at the moment." There was a dreamy look in her eyes reminiscent of Luna now.
"That does sound perfect right now," Harry admitted through a deep breath.
"So, how about we pay a visit?" Ginny asked hopefully.
Harry nodded, and moments later, the two were hand in hand, Disapparating together to visit Bill and Fleur at Shell Cottage.
War and Peace
By: Rita Skeeter
Two decades and two Wars, that's how long the magical community lived with the threat of Voldemort. Yes, I said his name. He's dead and buried, thanks to none other than Harry Potter himself, and so May 2, 1998, will be forever remembered as the end of our long nightmare. Still, questions remain: HOW was Voldemort finally defeated? WHY was the Golden Trio absent from Hogwarts until the eleventh hour while those they left behind suffered as Death Eaters took over the school? WHAT do the Golden and Silver trios have to say about their role in the war effort? I spoke to all involved, and though unflinching Harry Potter and his friends usually are on war-related topics, they gave me a general idea of what they did. Keep reading to learn exclusive details—
"Hopefully, Rita Skeeter does not run Harry through the mud again… I wonder who is at the door?" Bill said aloud.
Bill greeted Harry and Ginny pleasantly when he saw who was at the back door. "Little sis, Harry!" He said in surprise. "You are not here about the article, are you? I was just past the intro. Rita being theatrical as usual." He sighed.
"No, and Kingsley assured me that he would reign her in as Minister; I'm skeptical, though," Harry said with a casual smile.
"I'm not so little anymore, Bill, don't you think it's time you stopped that," Ginny said, rolling her eyes with a smile.
"I know, but the gap between our age means I probably won't." He shrugged apologetically, stepping back to let them both into the kitchen.
Ginny shrugged. "When the others say it, it feels so insulting, but I guess I never minded it from you."
Bill led them in the sitting room. "You were already my favorite, Ginny. I suppose the older I get, the more I remember that you grew up too quickly."
"Yes and no." Ginny glanced sympathetically at Harry.
Bill nodded sympathetically at Harry too. "Ah, yeah… Nobody grew up faster than you, Harry."
"Both of us, honestly," Harry said, taking Ginny's hand. "Where is Fleur?"
"Shopping for our trip to France," Bill said calmly. "I reminded her it was nearly two months off, but shopping is a hobby for women, I guess." Bill shrugged. "As long as I don't have to do it!" He flashed a grin at them.
"You are going to read the article?" Ginny asked, spotting it on the table.
"I'm curious if she wormed what you went throughout of other people. Maybe I can keep Mum away? I'm sure the torture you went through at school was terrible. Both back then and this last year with the Carrows." Bill said evenly.
"How do you know about the Carrows?" Ginny asked, taken aback.
Well, I was in the Order," He reminded her, the slightest bit offended. "But if you mean, how do I know that you, specifically, were tortured by slashing? I'm a curse breaker trained to recognize when concealment magic is in the air—I've noticed the signs of it on your back for quite a while now." He told her seriously.
"I'm sorry, Bill," Ginny said apologetically.
He shook his head, quite empathetic. "You have always hated family fussing over you, and if you're back is as scarred as my face, then I get why you've kept them magically concealed."
"Thank you, Bill," Ginny said gratefully.
"Sure, but I know you two didn't come all the way here just to visit." Bill was quizzical now. "What's up?"
"We err…" They began a little shyly. Harry continued subdued. "We both decided we need to get away from everything before school starts."
"We thought we could house sit for you while you're in France." Ginny finished, hopefully.
"Practicing domestication?" Bill asked with a grin.
"It was my idea, Harry saved the world, and he deserves a real vacation; it's part of a long list of normal things that he's never had."
"I just want to forget I'm famous for a while," Harry admitted longingly.
Just then, Fleur returned home, quite surprised but pleased to find Harry and Ginny there.
"Arry, Ginny, it's lovely to see you both. What brings you back to our home?"
"Hi, Fleur. I'll help you with your things." Ginny said quickly.
"Thank you, Ginny. It is quite heavy." She said rather anxiously. "I should have gotten my wand out ahead of time, but I do not often think ahead." She was pretty winded.
"It's okay," Ginny said, smiling, taking some of the bags that Fleur was carrying off her hands.
"I'll send them where you want," Harry said, pulling out his wand.
"Oh, thank you, both of you, in the corner there," Fleur said gratefully before sweeping over to Bill and kissing him. "Ello, handsome."
"Hello honey, I got an offer from Harry and Ginny to house sit for us while we're in France visiting your family. I guess this is a great vacation spot." He said, smiling at Harry and Ginny.
Fleur looked knowingly in their direction. "They want to see what it is like."
"We were going to seal the place magically, but if you both want to get away, no better place than here. The only thing I insist on is that you sleep anywhere but the master bedroom." Bill told them bluntly.
"You don't have to worry about that." Ginny agreed bluntly.
"You can stay here when we go to France then." Bill agreed.
"Ginny," said Fleur after a moment of silence. "I have bought something for you." She got up and dug through her purchases, retrieving a very fancy box. "I wish to give this privately. Would you come to my room, please?"
Ginny followed Fleur upstairs curiously. Meanwhile, Bill surveyed Harry with an expression that he couldn't decipher.
"You look like you've lived about 70 years, Harry, not 17 years," Bill said candidly after a while of silence.
"That's what happens when you're at the mercy of everything around you for your whole life," Harry said almost numbly.
"You've never had a vacation from being an adult," Bill said sympathetically.
Harry chuckled. "Um, we haven't met. I'm Harry Potter: Boy Who Lived, Chosen One, I don't get a vacation." He was sadly resigned now. "Unless you count the ten days that I was in a coma, and somehow I don't think Ginny does."
"I can't say I blame you for being selfish as far as the rest of the world goes." Bill agreed, "Just don't take my sister for granted in the process." He added evenly.
"Never, Bill never," Harry assured earnestly.
Bill sighed apologetically. "That wasn't the right words..." He leaned over the table now, lost in thought. Then he spoke a little worried. "I just mean that when you are suffering, Ginny's whole world stops."
"I try to get her to worry about herself, but she won't hear of it most of the time." He shook his head.
"Ginny loves you so much that magic itself had something to say about it." Bill smiled to ease the tension he'd created. "Ginny is strong stuff, between you and me, the strongest in the family. Still, I'm just saying, don't forget to take care of her as much as she takes care of you because Ginny's unlikely to put herself ahead of you. That's why you have to, as much as you can."
Harry had the distinct feeling Bill's words were marriage advice. Meanwhile, Fleur was focusing on the much more immediate future.
"You are turning 17 soon. Consider this an early birthday gift." Fleur said softly, urging Ginny to open the box.
Ginny felt instantly awkward now, she liked Fluer well enough, and that certainly wasn't the case two years ago—Ginny just wasn't used to receiving fancy gifts. Still, she opened the box and gasped.
"Fleur, you didn't have to—this is too much," Ginny said breathlessly.
Fleur chuckled dismissively. "It is nothing. Your Mum gave me your size and measurements sometime ago—though she believed that I was saving it for your actual birthday, this is our secret, okay.
"Wow," Ginny said quietly, emotional.
Fleur used magic to remove the dress from the box and suspend it in mid-air so Ginny could have a better look.
"I know you don't like overly fancy things, " Fleur acknowledged quickly. "But every grown woman needs at least one fancy dress." Fleur finished encouragingly.
"I have never had a dress this beautiful!" Ginny said, mesmerized.
Fleur continued a bit nervously. "Bill told me about your frustrations over your mother treating you like a child... I am hoping that the dress helps you feel like a grown woman. Such a dress is also my apology for treating you similarly. I never meant to make you feel that way." She frowned in regret.
"Fleur, thank you," Ginny said as she surveyed the dress with amazement.
Fleur nodded. "It is my pleasure." She smiled. "Do you think Arry will approve?" Ginny blushed at the mention of Harry, holding back excitement. "Ah, it is a stupid question of me to ask, of course, he will." Fleur continued. "You hide it well, you know."
"Hide what well?" Asked Ginny uncertainly.
"How much you desire him, of course," Fleur said without pretense.
"I don't think I do if people keep picking up on it so easily." She said, embarrassed.
"Forgive me, Veela can sense the desire in the air—your desire for Arry is deep and vast, like the ocean," Fleur told her bluntly. She gave the younger redhead a broad smile. "I think the dress will help you cross that line with Harry, he very much wants to, but his desire comes mixed with a great deal of inexperience."
"You can pick up on men too?" Ginny asked, unable to hide her surprise.
"Yes, it's how Veela distinguishes the genuine man from the scum of the world; our race is very in tune with sexual hormones," Fleur told her calmly.
"And Harry, how nervous is he?" Ginny asked anxiously.
"There is a newness in his hormones that suggests he is younger sexually than 17, but you know all of this already," Fleur said candidly. "You are very much devoted to him to take things slow," Fleur told Ginny kindly.
"I want him to be comfortable with me. Ginny admitted a little emotionally.
"Arry is comfortable with you. You know that. If he were not, the two of you would not be well on the road to having intercourse. It will happen, and sooner rather than later, Arry's hormones just have to catch up with his heart." Fleur told her reassuringly. "The dress will help with that." She said quietly, adding with a praising smile, "Not that you need elp, for you are a gorgeous woman; I just thought you deserved a magnificent dress."
"I'd been wondering what I would have worn for the occasion; this is perfect, so perfect; I think I'll use it while we're still working up to shagging." Ginny could not help but grin now. "Thank you, Fleur." Ginny smiled from cheek to cheek, giving her sister-in-law the most genuine hug she ever had.
Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were all annoyed at the increase in fame from Rita's article over the next month. Just being out in public came with a mob of people asking questions or for autographs. Ron seemed to be handling it the best. He was finally getting the individual attention that he lacked for most of his life. Now nearing July, the first part of the Animagus process was over, and the four of them were out in the dead of night at the place where they would be keeping their mixed Animagus potions stashed while waiting for the necessary electrical storm.
"How lucky are we that McGonagall had the dew and the moth heads for us!" Ron said brightly.
"It wasn't a moth head," Hermione chuckled in amusement. "It's the chrysalis of a Death's-head Hawk Moth, and we are fortunate," Hermione said earnestly.
"Right, that's a mouth full, isn't it." Ron chuckled, eyeing his mixture inside his crystal vial with intrigue.
"You are sure we've added the ingredients, right?" Harry asked Hermione; he wanted to be sure.
"Yes: salvia soaked Mandrake leaf for a month, one of our hairs, the silver teaspoon of dew from a place untouched by sunlight or human feet for a full seven days, then the chrysalis. All inside these vials which have taken in pure rays of the moon." Hermione recited confidently.
"For the record, I hate that we are storing them here of all places. Ginny said bluntly.
"Me too, Gin," Harry said sympathetically. "But we had to find a dark, quiet place, and the inside of this cave is a perfect spot.
"I wouldn't call the cave where Tom Riddle tortured orphanage kids a perfect spot for anything, mate." Ron looked very unsettled.
"We needed a dark and quiet place that nobody would find. The magic enchantments should be gone since he's dead." Harry said absently.
"It's a smart decision," Hermione said indifferently.
"Let's stash these and get back home; it's the dead of night after all," Harry said hurriedly.
The four of them returned to the Burrow, occupying the sitting room. Everyone else was asleep, as it was after eleven at night now, but neither of these couples was tired at the moment.
"Now we have to wait for an electrical storm when it hasn't stormed all summer. That's just great." Ron said in a hopeless voice.
"Ron, it took the Marauders three years to become Animagus; we are ahead of schedule." Hermione reminded him calmly. "Don't forget the incantation: 'Amato Animo Animato Animagus.' Every sunrise and sunset until the electrical storm. Then we take the potion and keep repeating the words with our wand tips over our hearts." Hermione was extremely serious as she concluded. "We have to embrace our animal side because rejecting it means permanent malformation."
"Starting tomorrow, we have to get up every sunrise for the foreseeable future," Harry said bluntly.
"Hermione, is that why we waited until night to mix and store the potion?" Ginny asked thoughtfully.
"Yes, starting on a new day made sense," Hermione said quietly.
"Oh yeah that, sunrise is early." Ron had forgotten this requirement.
"Some alarm clocks will do; Harry and I can take care of that," Hermione said quietly.
"I don't have any pounds, Hermione," Harry said, trying not to laugh as the hour was late.
"I know, Harry. I'll take care of it. I think it's best to go to bed now." They all agreed.
All four of them (Ron grudgingly) performed the chant at sunrise, going back to sleep afterward. By late morning Hermione and Harry were gone buying alarm clocks, much to Ron's dismay.
"Didn't you get up for morning watch all the time looking for Horcruxes?" Ginny asked, somewhere between amusement and impatience.
"Yeah, and I wasn't thrilled about that either," Ron admitted bluntly.
"How are you doing coming off the Dreamless Sleep potion?" Ginny asked seriously.
"Alright, my healer said I couldn't just stop taking it, so every couple of days, I eliminate a night," Ron said quietly. "I'm off it half the week now." He sighed. "If Hermione weren't in my head, I'd miss sunrise and blow becoming an Animagus."
"You'll be fine," Ginny argued earnestly.
Ron shrugged. "I'm not worried about myself. I'm worried about Hermione." He sighed. "She still hates being alone, and we both know she can't shower in the Black Lake when you're back at Hogwarts. Can't sleep alone either." Ron said sadly.
"I told you already; we've got her back, Ron," Ginny said reassuringly.
"She would be upset if she knew that I'd told you any of this, but she needs someone staying with her, not so much during the day but at night," Ron said anxiously.
"She's afraid of the dark," Ginny said seriously.
Ron was very subdued. "Anything at night that would leave her vulnerable and alone is a trigger, and if it's a confined space like a shower or bath, forget it. She just loses herself." The sorrow in his voice was palpable.
"How often?" Ginny asked sympathetically.
"She's tried so many times, but it always happens. It's like a piece of her mind never left that night." Ron was on the verge of crying.
"I know what it's like to be afraid of your own shadow," Ginny said empathically.
"I remember." He said quietly.
"You got me through that summer, you know. Letting me sleep in your bed with you." Ginny said emotionally.
"You needed me, I'm your big brother, and I wasn't going to mess up your recovery the way I screwed up your first year," Ron said adamantly, putting his arm around her.
"That's why you can count on me now," Ginny assured Ron, putting her arm around him.
"I'm putting you in an awkward position, but Hermione can't know I asked you to do this. She's already so dependent on me, and I know she hates being that way." Ron said quickly.
"I can keep a secret; she should not be ashamed of needing anyone," Ginny said calmly.
"I've told her that, but I'm sure she'll keep trying to suck it up by herself." Ron finished sadly.
"I'm sure she will; I did, but you convinced me not to be stubborn." Ginny reminded him calmly.
"She feels weak, and nothing I say…." He trailed off.
"I'm a girl; as long as it's coming from me, she will accept the state she's in right now," Ginny reassured him.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Ron asked sharply, slightly offended.
Ginny sighed. "Ron, Hermione can't shower by herself, she has to bathe out in the pond here, so she has control over her surroundings." She sighed. "If she uses a shower, she needs someone right next to her to avoid a mental breakdown." Ginny continued rhetorically. "Think how you would feel."
"I would feel like shit no matter what Hermione said or did about it; I get it now," Ron said empathically.
Ginny nodded. "It was hard to admit that I could not sleep alone after the Chamber of Secrets."
"Why did you come to me back then?" He asked quizzically.
"You took it seriously." Ginny dropped her head on his shoulder. "I'll take Hermione seriously."
"Thanks, sis." Ron gratefully said.
Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione had just left a Muggle general store with four alarm clocks and a sleeping mask.
"Sorry I couldn't help pay, but I haven't had a single pound my entire life; by usual standards, I'm poorer than Ron's entire family," Harry said apologetically.
"Harry, it's okay." She gave him a dismissive smile.
"How are you doing, Hermione?" He asked, throwing an arm around her.
"Oh, I'm fine. I'm worried about the school year, of course." Hermione said quietly.
"You, worried about school?" Harry said in exaggerated shock.
"School is the last thing I'm worried about, leaving Ron, on the other hand. He's my peace of mind and my mind…" She did not finish.
"Is brilliant," Harry said confidently.
"You say that like this is something that I can solve with a book, Harry." Hermione chuckled rather hopelessly.
"I wouldn't put it past you," Harry said encouragingly.
"I don't think psychotic breaks get cured with a book, Harry." She said with a skeptical but appreciative look. "There is no amount of logic to apply that would fix why I can't use a shower or sleep alone." She sighed with her eyes on the ground.
"Ginny and I will be there for you at Hogwarts," Harry assured her.
"People can't be there all the time, and what's Ginny going to do? Shower with me?" Hermione laughed absurdly at such unreasonableness.
Harry, however, didn't seem to think that it was ridiculous at all. "If that's the only way you're comfortable. I'm sure she would in a second," He said quietly.
"Hilarious, Harry." Hermione dismissed.
"What's funny? If you're slipping back every time, it makes sense to prevent it, doesn't it?" Harry rationalized.
"But I can't have a shower buddy for the rest of my life, Harry," Hermione said anxiously.
"You're assuming always being triggered like that." Harry reminded her.
"It's annoying," Hermione said sourly.
Harry stopped a cautious look on his face. "The healer said you would have scar tissue from the intensity of the curse and that your brain was the most likely area."
"But there was no predicting how it would appear—I know." Hermione didn't look any less melancholy. "I just hate to think I have to have a shower buddy for the rest of my life." She said anxiously.
"In sickness and health, right? Something tells me Ron won't mind at all." Harry said, wearing a small smile.
"Harry, that's stretching it a little bit, and even given Ron, I still have a year without him to get through." She blushed sheepishly.
He sighed. "We all need help sometimes, but I know that you're too upset about this to ask Ginny to stay with you."
"I wouldn't be able to start a conversation like that without feeling pathetic," Hermione said anxiously.
"It's only the immediate future; that's all you can focus on, Hermione." He said gently.
"I know." She sighed.
"How is Ron?" Harry asked, shifting to an adjacent subject.
"Working on getting off the Dreamless Sleep potion, slowly. I'm worried about being away from him, for both of us." Hermione admitted quietly.
"You will both be staying busy." Harry reminded her calmly.
"That's true." They both stopped. "I hate having to Apparate from a dead-end alleyway," Hermione whispered in a nervous voice.
"Muggles would see; I remember the days when I was so unfamiliar with that word." Harry mused.
We have come a long way since then; now, let's get home." Hermione said tiresomely.
They grasped hands and turned on the spot vanishing together into nothingness.
Ron and Ginny were very amused that Muggles waked themselves with an obnoxious ringing noise but admitted that they would need the cues. Harry abruptly woke that night in a heavy cold sweat, unaware it was nearly two in the morning.
Harry realized his hands were shaking violently. He could not catch his breath. "You're dead and buried— Get out of my head."
Ginny awoke moments later, turning on the light on her nightstand. "Riddle again?" She asked with delicate concern, resting a hand on one side of Harry's face.
"His laugh, even though he is dead, it's worse than ever in my head," Harry said weakly.
"I always hear a string of degrading insults, and I used to get the shakes and heavy breathing too," Ginny confessed bluntly.
"When did it stop?" Harry asked quietly.
"It hasn't, not his voice anyway, but it's a whisper now compared to when I was eleven," Ginny told him with measured solace.
"Whenever I think I'm doing better, something else pops up; I preferred crying honestly," Harry said with a sigh.
"I can handle anything but seeing you dead or in a coma," Ginny said emotionally.
"I can't escape the nightmares. Why can't I—I hate this!" He said anxiously.
"Shhh, I know…." Ginny met Harry's lips briefly, then brought him laying down again, this time against his head against her chest. "I hate them too, but I realized years ago that Voldemort will always be something that I have to cope with." Her voice held a calm irony, running one hand through his hair. "Once I stopped trying to deny the pain, it was easier to take back control." She squeezed Harry's scarred right hand in her free hand, their fingers interlocked together.
"I thought I did that already; I guess not." Harry sighed heavily.
"Some, but you're still angry at yourself. That's why you're shaking." She sighed with sympathetic concern.
"I'm fine." He insisted.
"And I'm six feet tall." Ginny retorted sarcastically.
"I'm sorry," He conceded apologetically.
She was dismissive. I'm not mad you are still angry, but it's annoying that you would lie to me and say you're okay." She gave him a disproving look. "Your anger is in your body, Harry."
"What do you mean?" He asked, confused.
"As long as you are angry with yourself, he wins," Ginny said softly.
"I don't know how not to be angry. Every time I think I've moved past it all, I haven't. It's like—like being stuck in quicksand." He sounded painfully hopeless. "I am scared, Ginny, and there are only a few times in my life I have been terrified…."
"My apparent death, the graveyard, when you felt possessed, and your death walk…." Ginny said gently.
"You're doing Legilimency," Harry said quietly.
"I asked Hermione to teach me." Ginny acknowledged with a small smile.
"Why?" Harry asked in surprise.
"You bottle everything up until it overwhelms you, Harry," Ginny said seriously.
"Do I need that sort of preventive care, though, Gin?" He asked defensively.
"Harry, you fell into a coma a month ago," Ginny said, unable to keep her concern out of her voice.
"I could use someone as the keeper of my mind. Might as well be you, Gin." He acknowledged tenderly.
"I have other plans besides just watching over your thoughts." She assured, still roaming his hair attentively.
"Like what?" Harry said curiously.
"You'll know once I have enough skill to do it," Ginny said vaguely.
"I don't know what that means?" Harry said blankly.
"You don't need to know what it means," Ginny said quietly.
"Now you sound like Dumbledore," Harry said with a small smile.
Ginny smirked. "You can last until your Birthday." She leaned down to kiss his scar, keeping her lips pressed tenderly against it.
Harry let out a low exhale of appreciation. "I wish you'd been there to do that all the times that my scar was almost unbearable." He said with a heavy sigh.
"How bad did it get?" Ginny asked sympathetically, lifting her head again, but she put her hands on both sides of Harry's face.
"A few times, I thought my head was going to explode, and all I ever heard from Hermione and Dumbledore was to shut my mind to Voldemort." Harry didn't bother to hide the resentment he felt on this particular issue.
"You can't close your mind normally, Harry. That scar guaranteed you couldn't do it by magic either." She said sadly.
"You don't think… that I didn't try then?" Harry asked her, shamefully quiet as though he expected her to confirm his lack of effort in Occlumency.
Ginny shook her head. "I think you have suffered to the point that expecting you to master Occlumency was unrealistic even with the best teacher." She looked at him apologetically now. "I don't think that you will ever have total peace of mind. Things will always eat at you, Harry."
"You can still back out, you know. Find a less messed up bloke—" Ginny whacked him on the forehead. "Oi,"
"One, you ARE NOT messed up, so quit that rubbish!" She told him in a stern whisper, "and two, I'm not going to leave you ever, so stop suggesting, even as a twisted joke, that I should!"
"I'm sorry, it's just, being with you will always feel like something out of someone else's life. A dream, my good dreams get taken away from me." Harry said anxiously.
"Oh Harry, you're shaking again; you think that I'm going to get taken away from you?" Ginny said emphatically.
"I know it's stupid, but I feel cursed." He said emotionally.
"You are not cursed Harry Potter, do you understand me! The universe is not going to snuff me!" Ginny told him sharply.
"Look at my life." He said pretty lamely.
Ginny had to admit Harry had a point; part of her even doubted her own words. All it took was another Death Eater, the next Tom Riddle, and she was sure that Harry would break and never recover if she died. She could not blame Harry for thinking that the other shoe was going to drop; he had suffered so much for so long that his mind believed it would never end.
Ginny smiled tenderly. "I know it hasn't been easy for you, but Harry, the clock is not stuck on mortal peril anymore… I am not going anywhere."
He gave a weak smile. "I know, it's just…."
She frowned emphatically. "I know, it's tough for you not to think of the worst or believe you are better off alone."
Harry sighed rather somberly. "I don't know how to stop myself."
Ginny whispered calmly. "For now, Harry, think about this, us. Let it give you sweet dreams; I don't think you have had any."
"I had a few in my sixth year; you were in them." Harry mused drowsily.
Ginny grinned, kissing Harry with a very lengthy tenderness. "Well, that should aid your dreaming of me, I think."
"That you are here with me is all I need." He told her nearly claimed by sleep now.
"You will always have me, Harry Potter," Ginny said quietly, falling into sleep herself.
Nightmares became less frequent over the next week, but they hadn't gone away completely, and Harry somehow knew they never would.
"War doesn't leave anyone…." He reminded himself constantly.
"You seem very sad?" Luna's airy voice joined him at the table one morning.
None of the others were up yet; getting up at sunrise to perform the Animagus incantation meant they all insisted on sleeping in until late morning, though they gave Mr. and Mrs. Weasley other reasons, like morning watch being habitual.
"What? Oh, hi, Luna. I'm not sad exactly, just nightmares." Harry said, subdued.
Luna gave an understanding nod. "Oh, they are pesky the nightmares." She became rather far away, her eyes unfocused. "Mine is from being trapped in that cellar and daddy's death, though I'm thankful I didn't see that because I would have died too." Her expression turned guilty as she finished.
"I'm sorry," Harry told her, empathizing immensely.
"I'm sorry too. An Animagus transmission will help you with that; animals are much simpler than people," Luna said calmly.
"How do you know that I'm trying to become an Animagus?" Harry whispered in surprise.
"Your aura has green in it now, and green is a big color in nature," Luna said, smiling serenely.
"I'll probably become a Stag, like my Dad and my Patronus," Harry said matter of fact.
"Not necessarily, but you have to wait and see. You can be very kind too." Luna said thoughtfully.
Harry scratched his head. "Dumbledore believed I'm like my Mum deep down."
"Dumbledore was very good at knowing people's deepest nature, so I'd say that's true. He was also quite fond of both your parents, wasn't he?" Luna remarked in dreamy pleasantness.
"Um yeah, most people always said my father was reckless and stubborn, while she was exceedingly kind," Harry said with a nostalgic smile.
"You became my friend when most people think I'm well; you know what they call me; few people treat me like I'm a normal person." She said with a calm tone to her voice.
"Just because you think and see things differently than most people, that doesn't mean you aren't normal, Luna," Harry told her earnestly.
"You are very kind to everyone who deserves it, Harry, and even kind to those who you don't like very much. I don't know if that will place a part in your animal side, but just because your daddy was a stag doesn't mean that's what you are." Luna said thoughtfully.
"Magic is fascinating to talk about with you, Luna," Harry said, smiling cheerfully at her.
"I like being your friend and Ginny's friend too," Luna said quite dreamily.
"We do too, Luna, we do too," Harry told her with complete sincerity.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny might have vowed never to read Rita Skeeter's entire article, but it seemed that curiosity over the war got the best of Mrs. Weasley. For it was a few hours later, after the whole house was awake, that she returned from the Ministry of Magic with a copy of the edition of Daily Prophet containing her article.
"Oh, Mum, tell me you are not going to read that. We were only doing Kingsley a necessary favor. Rita makes everything sound like a scandal." Ron told her while shooting the others a quick worried look but keeping nothing more than a hint of annoyance to his voice.
She was calm but blunt. "Ronald, I can't force any of you to tell me anything, but I still have a right to find out information wherever it's available."
"We did not say anything specific." He assured his mother, looking to the others for support.
"I know you didn't, but there are more people than you lot in this article." She reminded him evenly.
Hermione sighed unpleasantly. "We might as well read it. I don't like the woman, but knowing what's in the article will prevent us from being blindsided by questions."
The others reluctantly agreed. Ron turned to his mother. "Can we read it first, Mum?" He asked her gently.
I—oh alright." She said impatiently.
Harry sighed reluctantly. "We'll read it with you, Mrs. Weasley, but we're skipping the intro. I know how her intros are."
…
You didn't hear me wrong! Lord Voldemort was immortal, folks! Yes, that feeling the first time around, as it turns out, was the correct assumption all those years leading up to his return. Now, don't worry, I can assure folks that the second time was the charm, he is dead and not coming back: One, I saw the body and two Harry, and his friends were adamant, Tom Marvolo Riddle (Voldemort wasn't his real name, it's quite the genealogy trip—pg 12) is gone forever.
"Nothing is infuriating yet." Hermione acknowledged dryly.
"Immortality," wailed Mrs. Weasley anxiously.
"Yes, Mum, we had to make him mortal before he could die; that's what we were doing all this past year," Ron said dully.
"Don't skip to other pages." Mrs. Weasley said hastily.
Ginny's face tightened even more anxiously, but only Harry noticed. She hoped Rita didn't have the darkest details about what she went through—past or present.
Now I'm sure you are all wondering how Tom Riddle went from mortal to immortal. Well, as it turns out, that was what Dumbledore was trying to figure out right up until his death at Hogwarts last year on the night of June 30. It's clear he found the secret of Tom Riddle's immortality and passed the knowledge onto The Chosen One.—
"Couldn't she just use my damn name, as she'd done already! Can't go one article without the bloody nicknames!" Harry said through gritted teeth, breaking the silence.
"Harry, is it that— " But Hermione stopped as he met her eyes, they continued reading.
— I've been told by Harry, his friends, and girlfriend— more on that later (No it isn't Hermione Granger or Cho Chang) that enchantment six times over was the means of immortality, destroy all six enchantments and Tom Riddle was as mortal as the rest of us. Now, they would not give me specifics on the what or how of these enchantments (believe me, I tried), insisting that it was EXTREMELY dark magic, and I have to admit I think it's for the best not to know the finer details. However, I can piece together SOME things. I'm sure we all remember the 1992 Hogwarts school year, Chamber of Secrets opened, students attached, Ginny Weasley found in and rescued from the chamber by Harry Potter. Ginny Weasley herself told me that: "The magic Voldemort used to become immortal held me, hostage, when I was eleven." Two plus two is four here, people, and it means that, whatever it is, the power of this magic is not an exaggeration. Tom Riddle's diary is the only connective tissue from the Chamber of Secrets saga. With my thinking cap on, I feel like it's right to say that it was one of the things full of the dark magic linked to the immortality of whom it was named after. Unfortunately, I have not been able to find information or a willing person to prove my theory correct. Still, as I said earlier, I can agree with Harry and the other that some evil details are better left unknown.—
"The diary was one of the enchantments for his immortality." Mrs. Weasley said in quiet shock.
"Yes, Mum," Ron said delicately with a glance at Ginny, who was both relieved and irritated.
"What on earth— "
"Please don't ask Mum. I'm keeping the details to myself, as much as I can anyway." Ginny said insistently.
"That goes for all of us," Harry said firmly. "Ron, Hermione, can you just fill me in on the rest of the article… I tried, but I just can't." He left the sitting room without another word.
Ginny followed after Harry like she always did. They sat together near the pond that was a good measure away from the Burrow itself. A few minutes of silence was broken by Fawkes joining them. He gave a small cry of concern.
"Looks like he's checking on you too." Ginny admired softly.
"Any advice, Fawkes?" Harry asked quietly.
The Phoenix let out a more hopeful cry and took flight hovering a few inches off the ground showing its tail.
"Harry," Ginny said slowly, "I think he wants to take us somewhere." They shared a look of interest.
Harry stood up, gave Fawkes a deeply contemplative look before nodding and taking hold of his tail, Ginny clung to Harry's body, and then they were in full steady flight, carried effortlessly by the Phoenix.
"Where do you think he's talking us, and why not just apparate us there?" Ginny asked Harry, whose curiosity was building rapidly now.
"I haven't got a clue," Harry admitted. "But I'm sure he knows where he's going." He added confidently.
Wherever Fawkes was taking Harry and Ginny, it was a long flight. They left Ottery St Catchpole, Devon. It wasn't until they passed through Surrey ultimately that Harry had an idea where Fawkes was taking them.
"Thank Merlin that I'm not wearing a dress at the moment. I know he's not flying fast, but the wind would have a field day." Ginny said in amusement, breaking a very long silence.
"Are you okay?" He asked Ginny over the occasional humming cry from Fawkes.
"I'm fine." She assured. "I've never traveled like this outside; everything is a small blur," Ginny said in awe as the flight continued.
"I miss flying," Harry admitted longingly.
"I know. We'll have to make a new broom a priority for you." Ginny said as Fawkes gave another humming cry.
"Yeah, I keep forgetting." He said sadly.
"That's because every broom you've had was a gift from someone else." Ginny reminded him with a grin. Harry grinned back in agreement.
Soon they crossed into a rural landscape once more; only the villages seemed older and sparsely occupied. At this point, Harry knew where they were, but why they were here was lost on him.
Why here, of all places, Fawkes?
The Phoenix answered its new owner's thoughts with a sharp cry as if asking patience.
Alright, alright; lead on then. Harry thought with amusement.
At some point, Ginny's voice broke the otherwise silent flight again. "Harry, he's flying lower," She announced slowly.
"Yeah, I reckon we'll be there soon," Harry called down to her.
"Where exactly is here, though?" She called up to him quizzically.
"The last place I ever thought I'd come back to, but well, Fawkes used to be Dumbledore's, so I should have known." He said with a subdued smile.
Harry was starting to think Muggle's could not see any mythical, magical creatures—not just Dementors. It was easy to conclude that nobody in any of the villages spotted objects moving low in the sky now. Not that it mattered Fawkes flew past them all and eventually touched down in the Graveyard of Little Hangleton, where Harry and Ginny were finally able to let go of their pilot.
"I see what you're getting at, Fawkes," Harry said with a subdued smirk, petting him gently.
The Phoenix continued flying briefly before resting himself atop one of the gravestones.
"If you know what he's getting at, maybe let me in on it too," Ginny said, looking around with confusion.
Harry sighed, walking to where Fawkes was waiting patiently. "The village, it's called Little Hangleton, this is the graveyard… THAT graveyard—where he lured me, where Cedric… I would have died if not for the spirits of my parents and others. Where Voldemort restored the remainder of his soul to his body." Harry said emotionally.
Ginny instinctively took his hand, nodding in understanding. "You must have been terrified out of your wits, Harry."
"I was," Harry admitted quietly." His eyes fell to the stone statue he'd been pinned to so painfully that fateful night in the summer of 1995 as he continued spilling out his fear. "I kept praying he would drown." He felt suddenly cold, despite the summer heat.
"Harry, it's alright now," Ginny said as she took his scarred right hand in hers.
"I don't know, Gin. I've been a mess." Harry wiped his watery eyes with the sleeve of an arm.
"Harry, it's only been about two months, you know." She said gently.
"Are you sure? That doesn't seem right." Harry said, perplexed.
"Time is cruel that way." Ginny sighed, "I don't think you have ever left this place behind, Harry." She studied his face intensity.
"How can I?" Harry asked with a painful sigh.
"I think that's why Fawkes brought you here," Ginny said, pointing to the grave on which the Phoenix perched.
Harry looked closer. There was another name engraved on it. He ran his hands over the stone in slow motion, as if just now seeing it for the first time.
"The Ministry must have buried him here," Harry said quietly.
"Mmhm, Tom Riddle is dead and buried Harry," Ginny said calmly, crouching next to him and resting her head on his shoulder as he remained absorbed with the tombstone.
Fawkes retook flight, circling feet above them, much as he had while Harry mourned Dobby and Hedwig at their personally built graves, but now his cry was triumphant. Harry cast a silencing charm around their general area.
"Back up, Gin," Harry told her, standing up too.
"Harry, what are you doing?" She said uncertainly, backing up all the same.
Harry raised his wand with barely suppressed rage, pointing it at the Riddle tombstone… "Reducto!"
The Riddle tombstone was blasted apart into smaller chunks of rubble; only the base remained. "Reducto!" He said again. And again and again. Until eventually, he was on his knees, raw rage now reduced to angry sobs. It was an awful sight, Ginny thought to herself. The next few moments were eerily similar to when Harry found Dumbledore's still body.
Ginny slowly approached Harry. She knelt, placing a hand on his shoulders. "Harry…" She sought out his hands, squeezing one in hers. At her touch, he buried his head in her embrace.
Fawkes cry became a healing mantra; Harry wasn't sure when he was ready to move again, but eventually, he did, repairing the Riddle tombstone.
"Are you okay, Harry?" Ginny asked quietly. "You have a lot more places like this one." She looked around and sighed sadly into his chest.
"I do," He sighed sadly too. "But, for now, I think I'm okay." He told her, kissing her on the top of her head.
Ginny looked up at Harry with an emotional smile now. She placed one hand over one of his cheeks. "Then let's go home."
Fawkes landed again, and Harry met the Phoenix's watchful gaze. "Thank you, Fawkes." He gave an affectionate cry in response. "How about a more instantaneous lift Harry asked hopefully; he lowered his head in agreement. "Hold on tight, Gin." Harry quickly warned her. She nodded.
Taking flight once more, Fawkes soared, pelting back towards his owner's outstretched hand with a loud screech of determination. Just in time, Harry grasped his tail tightly; there was a mighty burst of Phoenix flame, and all three were gone, leaving Little Hangleton behind forever.
A/N: I have a plan for Harry to return to various places as a form of therapy as summer winds down and the graveyard felt important, like it needed to be first.