"How are you so good at this?"

Hermione blushed. "I pay attention in class, Ron." There was no heat to her words though. Harry sighed. One more hour and Madam Pomfrey would let him back in the hospital wing to see Ginny, once the concussion potion had a chance to work. Until then he'd just have to put up with his two best friends doing homework as if it was a type of foreplay. Hermione nudged him.

"You may want to watch too, Harry. Finding subconscious messages left in objects is definitely going to be on our Newts." Hermione demonstrated the spell again and the small tarnished medal lying on the table suddenly grew shiny and new. It rose up in the air and hovered there for a moment, almost proudly, before falling back onto the table and reverting to its previous dirty state. Hermione gave a satisfied huff.

"Someone really prized this at one point. Ron, now you try, and let's see if we can keep it looking new long enough to read what it was awarded for."

"Only if you show me the hand movement again," said Ron with a grin. "I'm not sure my wandwork is quite right."

Harry jumped up. "I'm going upstairs, want to uhh, work on charming some flowers to take to Ginny."

His friends barely noticed him leave. He pushed open the door to the dormitory, relieved to find it empty. Ginny's injury had rattled him more than he wanted to admit, and even though she was going to be fine in a day or two, he didn't feel like sitting and watching his best friends flirt with each other while she was unwell and alone. Harry flopped on his bed but his mind wouldn't stay still, replaying the moment Ginny got hit over and over in his head. If he'd just found the Snitch faster . . .

He jumped back up, restless and looking for something to occupy his mind. His charms book lay open on his desk, displaying the spell Hermione had been demonstrating down in the common room. Harry hadn't had nearly the success she had using the random artifacts Professor Flitwick had distributed. The charm worked better when the caster had a connection to the item, he'd lectured.

Harry turned a slow circle in his room. He'd lived here his entire time at Hogwarts. Students did not move each year; only the sign on the door changed. His seventh year had been delayed by one but he and Ron and the others still slept in the same spots, five floors up. Surely he'd been here long enough to create an unconscious memory or two.

He said the spell, pointing it impulsively at his bed, rather hoping it would show him dreaming of Ginny. He woke up thinking about her often enough, there must be more that he wasn't remembering. His body always knew, he thought wryly.

But no image of Ginny rose up in front of him. Instead, one of the bedposts glowed gold right in the middle near where Harry's head usually lay. After a moment the glow resolved itself into small shapes, no bigger than gobstones. Harry stepped closer until they became something that might have been letters, if written by a small child who was just learning the alphabet.

LEP

The letters were surrounded by a messy shape that might have been a heart written by the same child.

Or a somewhat drunk and lovesick bloke.

The image came to Harry as soon as he touched the tip of his wand to the heart. The details were indistinct but it didn't matter; he knew as clear as if it had been written on parchment in the most perfect script.

James was alone for once; the rest of the party was still in high gear downstairs. Normally he'd be in the center of things, pouring drinks and cracking jokes.

Normally he'd have his arm slung around Lily, kissing her in between the laughter and then sneaking her off under his cloak when kissing wasn't enough anymore.

Tonight had been anything but normal.

He wondered if he'd ever get it back.

She was his future - their future - had he thrown it all away? He jumped off the bed; he had to make this right. But first, a promise to himself, and to her.

The Firewhiskey made his hand wobbly but it didn't matter; James was the only one who'd ever see.

LEP

Someday it would be true.

The glow faded but Harry stood a long time staring where it had been. He'd never known this had been his father's room too, and his bed. He rested his hand on the post.

His wand vibrated; the hour was up and he could visit Ginny. But first, a promise.

GWP