"A Most Ingenious Paradox"
[A Harry Potter Fanfiction by Penpusher]
Chapter Seven - "On the Wings of the Morning"
Harry watched the moon go down, pressed pale into the horizon by the approaching sunrise. It was going to be another warm day, he reflected, observing the clarity of the sky, the morning mist barely shadowing its beauty.
And I have betrayed a trust, he thought. Not just to Ginny, but to a family who have loved and supported me since childhood.
Harry looked back to the double bed with its single occupant outlined against the plain dark blue sheets, and smiled a little sadly. Ginny's red hair contrasted starkly with the colour. She was deeply asleep, sated and exhausted after the fulfilment of years of longing and frustration. Harry's heart melted as he gazed at her.
She is so beautiful, Harry thought, smiling gently, and so vulnerable. So was Cho. He shifted awkwardly, unwilling to deal with those particular memories right now.
Silently, Harry opened the glass doors to the balcony and stepped out into the pre-dawn chill. He gazed out over the garden, standing perfectly still, listening to the rustling of the leaves in the faint breeze. The temple was not visible from his room, being obscured by trees, but he knew it was there and that it would not simply disappear.
Voldemort has ruined my life, Harry found himself thinking. He killed my parents. He threatened my every move throughout my young life. He tried to kill me on average once a year until I was sixteen. He destroyed my friends .
Harry felt his throat tighten as he thought of Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin, both dead at Voldemort's hand while he, Harry Potter, lived on to vanquish the evil wizard. Or so everyone thought. He turned away and went back into the bedroom, closing the glass doors silently. Ginny turned over, murmuring softly in her sleep as he left the room.
Down in the kitchen, Harry was slightly startled but not entirely surprised to find Fred moving around, fully dressed, making coffee. He looked up as Harry came in.
"Hiya," Fred said, smiling. "Care for a caffeine hit? What are you doing up at this time?"
Harry eyed him suspiciously but nevertheless retrieved a large mug from the draining board, bringing it over to be filled.
"I could ask you the same question," Harry replied, "and I, at least, am appropriately dressed for this early hour. Do my eyes deceive me, or are they last night's clothes?"
Smiling enigmatically, Fred filled two mugs with a dark, strongly aromatic brew and handed one to Harry. Harry sniffed appreciatively before taking the first reviving mouthful. Fred sipped his own coffee, frowning critically at the other man over the rim of his mug. Harry raised an enquiring eyebrow; Fred grinned in reply.
"I was trying to work out what's different about you," Fred said. "It's your hair, isn't it? You've enchanted it back to its original colour. Sun- bleaching a little out of place anywhere but LA, huh?"
"Not bad, Fred," Harry scowled and involuntarily raked a hand through his fringe, "But you haven't answered my question."
"No, I haven't, have I?" Fred riposted, cheerfully. "Just for the record, did you change your hair because Hermione commented on it or because Ginny did?" Harry felt his face flush.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Fred!"
"Now who's not answering questions!"
"Look, Fred, Hermione's my best friend, apart from Ron, and Ginny - well, Ginny's ."
"Upstairs asleep in your bed at present, so if you don't want to completely arse-up your relationship before it's even off the ground, you'd better take her the extra cup of coffee!"
Fred held out a further full mug, grinning wolfishly. Harry stared at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, then spluttered violently as he forgot to swallow before breathing. Fred, enjoying every moment of Harry's confusion, patted him solicitously on the back as he fought for control.
"What - did you just say?" Harry whispered hoarsely, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his bathrobe.
"You heard," Fred responded. "I'm not the best intelligence officer in the Ministry for nothing, you know. Hey, relax - chill out!" He grinned in genuine amusement at Harry's horrified face.
"I'm not going to rip your balls off for bonking my sister, and neither is George: as a matter of fact, we couldn't be more pleased," Fred continued affably. "She's been aching for it for years and let's face it - you've got to be a better prospect than the pratt who's just given her the push!"
Harry was stunned almost into immobility. Fred crowed loudly.
"Oh, if only Ron were here to see this!" Fred exclaimed, jubilantly. "The famous Harry Potter, completely lost for words!"
"Oh, my owl - Ron!" Harry whispered, his face abruptly panic-stricken.
"Now Ron's reaction could be a touch tricky," Fred admitted more soberly. "He's a mite protective when it comes to our little sister." He shrugged. "But I guess you'll have to cross that bridge when you come to it."
Fred raised his mug in a mock toast and smiled genially over the rim. Ignoring him, Harry refilled his own mug, picked up the fresh full one and, nodding his thanks to Fred, departed back to the West Wing.
Ginny wasn't yet awake when Harry opened the door, but the smell of the coffee seemed to act like an alarm clock and, as he placed her mug gently on the bedside table, she stirred, stretched and opened her eyes. Harry smiled as she gazed mistily up at him, her eyes unfocussed, like a small child, then she gave a dreamy yawn and stretched languorously.
"Good morning," she said, her voice husky.
"Good morning." Harry replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing her the coffee. "Did you sleep well?"
Ginny gave him a sharp look as though she expected there to be some sting behind the query, but his eyes were bland and innocuous.
"Thank you, yes," Ginny replied. "Your bed is very comfortable. And thank you for the coffee too." She sat up, reaching carefully for the mug, the sheet held strategically over her torso. Harry's eyes traveled over the long line of her back to where it disappeared under the covers. He swallowed, quickly shifting his gaze to her face.
"Ginny," Harry said, his expression serious. "Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into?" Ginny pouted, making a sound of annoyance.
"Harry Potter, for goodness sake, we went through all this at length last night!" she said, glaring at him in exasperation as she sipped her drink. "I'm a big girl now and I have every intention of behaving like one. I've waited years for this, and you're not going to talk your way out of it by harping on and on about You-Know-Who."
Harry put down his empty mug and took her hands; his skin tingled at the touch.
"Ginny, you know how I feel about you," he began quietly. "You saw into my heart only too plainly." He paused and continued in a quieter, more hesitant voice. "But, you see, there's still - Cho."
Ginny cringed inside. The spectre of Cho Chang had haunted her throughout her life, it seemed. Doomed Harry Potter, who triumphed over the Dark Lord when all was thought to be lost, only to subsequently lose his girl in a tragic accident which broke his heart beyond all mending: this had been the substance of many a glossy Witch magazine's speculations. Ginny had read them all, and had cursed Cho over and over again, largely for being dead and therefore unassailable. A living Cho could perhaps have been supplanted, a dead one, never.
"Do you often think about her? Cho, I mean," Ginny asked. Her voice trembled slightly; Harry seemed not to notice. He sat silently brooding for a moment then he shifted awkwardly in his seat and looked back at her.
"All the time, Ginny," he replied, huskily. "Every day."
Ginny lowered her eyes into her empty mug, but Harry hadn't finished.
"I can't avoid thinking about her constantly when I know in my heart that I was responsible for her death."
Ginny raised her head and stared at him.
"What do you mean? Harry, it was a Muggle car that ran her down, I read the newspaper reports." she trailed off in confusion. He was nodding.
"Oh yes, I know what the rags said about it," Harry replied, coolly. "I read them all, several times. Then I burnt them."
A silence descended between them, thick as marsh mud. Ginny's free hand pleated and unpleated the edge of the sheet; she could think of nothing to say that would help.
"Ginny, I can't protect you from Voldemort." Harry continued finally. His face was sad. "I'm one of the most skilled wizards in the world, and yet I can't guarantee your life." He rose to his feet and began to pace the room.
"I know it'll be difficult," he said, not looking at her, "especially after last night, but the safest thing by far for us both would be to put what happened between us on the back burner. For me to solve this riddle concerning the temple in the garden, try to stop Voldemort returning at this time, and then to go back to LA. We can, of course, see each other occasionally when I return to England, but otherwise we've got to call a halt. He must never know that I. that we've. Well, anyway, it's the only way you're going to be truly safe from him."
"Are you kidding?" Ginny sat bolt upright, forgetting her state of undress. "Harry Potter, I have absolutely no intention of letting you out of my sight! I think all this analysis has gone to your head. I'm a witch, Harry, and a far better one than Cho ever was, despite my lack of practice. You-Know-Who is not going to get the better of me in a hurry. Just let him try, that's all!" Harry smiled.
"No wonder they put you in Gryffindor, my little red-haired lion." he teased, quickly looking away as he realised just how far her sheet had slipped. Ginny flushed, scrambling to restore her dignity, then she stopped, let the bedclothes fall away from her body and looked up at Harry through thick, dark eyelashes.
"Let's just enjoy each other while we can," Ginny whispered, opening her arms to him. "Whatever happens in the future, at least we can have this brief time together. Please?"
And Harry could find no good reason in his heart to hold back any longer.
~ooOoo~
This time was better, Harry thought.
The first time had been born of desperate hunger and a backlog of emotional confusion, and while the results were not exactly brief, they had certainly been intense. When it was over, Ginny had fallen instantly into the oblivion of exhaustion, leaving Harry physically drained but his mind working overtime.
This second time was different. Now with the freedom to move more slowly, Harry began to uncover memories and to rediscover delights he had thought he would never experience with a woman again. He moved more surely now, no longer frantic to relieve the ache, but able to pace himself. I'm the one who's out of practice here, he realised with amusement, but we'll get there.
Much later, Harry kissed Ginny gently and settled her head in the crook of his shoulder before they both drifted into an untroubled, dreamless sleep.
~ooOoo~
"Lee, Ron, I'm really sorry but we're going to have to have our coffee and wait until Harry surfaces."
Hermione was as flustered as any of them had ever seen her.
"It's so unlike him to sleep in," Hermione continued worriedly, "but I really don't want to disturb him after all he's been through lately. And another thing," she turned an anxious face towards Fred. "I can't seem to find Ginny. Her bed's been slept in and she's obviously changed clothes at some stage, but she doesn't seem to be anywhere in the house."
Like the experienced intelligence officer he was, Fred remained outwardly calm, betraying none of his inner amusement.
"Don't get into a state, Hermione," he began soothingly, his face bland. "It's not as though she's likely to run away. She's probably just gone to the newsagents." Hermione looked at him scathingly.
"The Daily Prophet comes by owl, you know that Fred!"
"She's lived with a Muggle for three years," Fred suggested, shrugging. "Perhaps she has a favourite Muggle Sunday paper."
George turned away and unnecessarily filled the kettle with water to hide a smile.
"Ah well," said Ron, flinging himself on to the sofa with exaggerated abandon. "We've got all day, I suppose - except that Lee and I have a lunch date round the 'Cat & Warlock'."
"Really," said Hermione, too casually. "Anyone I know?" Lee giggled.
"Yeah." Ron replied heartily. "The heats of the Quidditch World Cup, England -v- Transylvania, and a couple of pints of butterbeer!" Hermione sniffed.
"Louts!" she muttered, but she refilled their coffee mugs all the same.
~ooOoo~
Ginny woke first, stretching gently and registering that the window was much lighter than it had been earlier. She turned towards Harry, kissing his neck and snuggling closer. Still half-asleep, Harry wrapped his arms more tightly around her, his lips searching drowsily for hers. After a very pleasant few moments, he opened his eyes and smiled.
"What a wonderful way to wake up," Harry murmured indistinctly, hands and mouth busy. Ginny submitted just long enough to make sure he was really interested, then wriggled free and slid out from beneath the sheets.
"Hey!" protested Harry, sitting up. "Where are you going?"
She giggled and, throwing on Hermione's bathrobe, opened the bedroom door, pausing in the doorway
"There's a huge new corner bath in my bathroom," she whispered, mischievously. "Want to come christen it?"
She gave a piercing shriek as Harry bounded out of bed, not even bothering to grab his robe, and pelted down the corridor after her.
~ooOoo~
Hermione paused in her conversation with Lee and frowned, looking towards the West Wing staircase.
"I thought I heard - wait a minute, I think Harry must have surfaced." Hermione smiled in relief.
"I'll go check," put in Fred quickly, getting to his feet, but he was just slightly too late.
"It's okay," said Ron, already halfway to the stairs, holding a mug. "I'll see if he wants some coffee."
So much for breaking it to Ron gently! mused Fred as he returned to his seat, mentally cringing in anticipation of the forthcoming explosion.
Ron climbed the West Wing staircase towards Harry's room, noting the muffled sounds of giggling and splashing coming from Ginny's bathroom. He smiled: she sounded happy enough with her new quarters. At least Hermione could stop worrying about where she was.
"Come on, mate," he announced loudly, striding into Harry's room coffee in hand. "Time for another council of war, all the gang are here. Get up, you lazy ."
But Harry was nowhere to be seen. Ron crossed to the bathroom and knocked gently on the door: it swung open revealing a totally empty room. He turned slowly and surveyed Harry's bedroom. The curtains were still drawn, the bed unmade and in extreme disarray, and various items of clothing lay in unceremonious puddles on the floor. Hardly knowing what he was doing, he picked up a vaguely familiar pink nightshirt, regarded it with his jaw hanging loose then draped it unseeingly over the bed. Still holding the cup of coffee, he left Harry's room and followed the splashing sounds almost as though his feet were doing the thinking for him. On autopilot, he walked through Ginny's bedroom, across towards the wide-open bathroom door and peered around it.
They were both in the new tub Harry had designed with their backs to the door. Harry was washing Ginny's hair, pausing occasionally to brush away the bubbles dripping down his face from his own drenched head.
"I don't have to use the conditioner on my hair too, do I?" Harry grumbled as he worked the shampoo through the long red mane. Ginny giggled.
"Oh, alright, I'll let you off, but you've still got to do mine - and comb it through!" Harry groaned, pausing in his ministrations to look around for a comb.
"Do you mean to tell me I've got to get out and drip all over the new carpets just so that you can look beautiful?"
Ginny turned her head and grinned at him, kissing his nose briefly.
"S'right, lover boy. Time you learned what it is to have a girlfriend!"
Muttering under his breath, Harry stood up, turning round to get out of the bath, and froze.
"Oh, gods." Harry breathed.
"What?" said Ginny, starting to turn round. With incredible presence of mind, Harry thrust her back into the bath water.
"Mmmf! Harry!" she shrieked indignantly.
"Don't get up," Harry told her, calmly enough. "Just keep under the bubbles."
Harry looked back at Ron. The readhead's jaw was hanging slackly, his eyes goggling, and as Harry watched, the cup of black coffee slid unheeded from his hand to splash its contents over the new carpet. Harry sighed and got out of the bath, wrapping a towel around his waist, giving Ginny a suddenly unobstructed view of the doorway. She gasped in horror and let out a sharp scream.
Down in the kitchen, every eye suddenly jerked towards the stairs. Fred winced involuntarily.
Harry walked over to Ron and picked up the fallen mug, shaking his head.
"Nice of you to bring me coffee, mate, but I guess it could have waited until I'd got downstairs."
Ron did not react, he seemed in shock. Harry shrugged, took Ron's wand out of his pocket and muttered a brief charm. The coffee immediately levitated out of the carpet and back into the mug. Having just about recovered from the intrusion, Ginny leaned over the side of the bath, careful to keep most of herself hidden.
"You'll have to teach me that one," she said conversationally. "I still have to deal with spillages the Muggle way."
"Serves you right for letting things slide for four years!" Harry replied, smiling wryly, then looked at her critically.
"Much as I like your present attire," Harry began reluctantly, "I think it might be as well if you got dressed now, Ginny. I'll deal with Ron."
Ginny nodded, and modestly waited for them to leave.
Steering Ron back into the bedroom, Harry then walked him into the corridor and propped him up against a wall.
"Stay here," Harry ordered. "I'm just going to throw some clothes on."
Two minutes later, Harry emerged with bare feet, pulling a teeshirt over his head. Ron was still where Harry had left him, frowning and absently sipping the recovered coffee. Harry paused, unsure from which direction the inevitable attack was going to come, then Ron did something which floored him completely: he smiled.
"Well, it's certainly taken long enough," he said amiably. "I'd written you two off - I never expected in a month of Sundays. Well, well, well - and in a bath too! I never had you pegged as the adventurous type, Harry." Harry paused, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"Whatever perverted conclusions your twisted little mind is jumping to, Ron," Harry protested, "I can assure you the situation in the bathroom was entirely innocent. We were just - getting clean."
Ron's laughter had become hysterical before Harry had even finished the sentence.
"Getting clean?" Ron spluttered when he was once more capable of speech. "My owl, that's the most original name for it I've heard in a long while - and you can stand there spouting that sanctimonious load of codswallop with a totally straight face too!"
Harry stood feeling rather foolish while his friend bent over almost double with laughter.
"Ron," Harry began, warningly, "if you so much as think about teasing Ginny on this subject, I'll drag you straight back into that bathroom, and drown you in that nice, new tub!"
Ron's eyes were out on stalks.
"Flamel's Stone, Harry; water sports with my sister is one thing, but I had no idea you were into team events! It just shows, doesn't it? You never really know your friends till you share a bath with them. Come to think of it, perhaps Hermione should try to persuade Colin Creevey he'd like to move in here with you after all - I hear on the wizard grapevine he has an interest in both teams."
Glaring at his laughing friend, Harry punched Ron none-too-gently on the shoulder.
"Ow!" said Ron, jumping about and holding his arm, still laughing. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger! I only came up here to call you downstairs. The whole gang's here. Or had you forgotten the meeting?"
Harry's blank look rapidly shifted into one of sudden enlightenment and he clapped his hand to his forehead.
"Great Merlin, I had forgotten!" Ron smirked.
"So many other things to concentrate on that it sort of slipped your mind, huh?"
"Ron, if you don't go downstairs right now and stop winding me up, it'll be the Furnunculus curse, no messing about, I promise!"
"Okay, okay!" Ron thrust the coffee mug at Harry and held up his hands in surrender. "We'll see you two in - a few minutes, yes?"
Still chuckling, he disappeared back to the kitchen. Harry sighed and started to drink the remains of the coffee Ron had brought him. He made a face - it was really too cold to bother with now. He went back into Ginny's bedroom, pausing to knock on the door before entering, and found her drying her hair with a desiccating charm.
"It's not good for the hair," she explained at Harry's puzzled look. "I have to use a repair serum afterwards, which almost defeats the point, but I think speed is of the essence this morning, seeing as we were due in a meeting half an hour ago."
"If you knew that, why didn't you tell me?" Harry protested. Ginny smiled.
"I didn't like to," she replied, "You seemed to be having so much fun I thought it would be a shame to spoil it ."
Ginny didn't get to finish her sentence as Harry, having endured quite a bit of teasing already that morning, made a lunge for her that narrowly missed. With the agility of a monkey, Ginny dodged his outstretched arms, skirted the bed and scuttled out of the door, coming to an abrupt stop at the top of the stairs. She eyed him solemnly as he skidded to a halt beside her and took his hand. He raised his eyebrows questioningly at her change of mood.
"Harry," Ginny said, timid but determined, "It's make-your-mind-up time now, okay? If this was a one-night-stand then you'd better come out with it before we go downstairs. By now, Ron will have told them everything. And with a good deal of embroidery, if I know my brother. They're really going to let us have it, so we'd better make sure we're on the same page. What's it going to be?"
"A one-night-stand? Ginny, you could never be that. No one who knows you would even consider such a thing." Harry put an arm protectively around her. "Besides which," he continued wryly, "your brothers, while seeming to be reasonably content with the situation at present, would have no hesitation in castrating me and hanging the bits from the chimney pots if I let you down."
"You could be right at that." Ginny replied, raising a speculative eyebrow. Harry tightened his arm, squeezing her shoulders. He looked down into her eyes, his face serious and shadowed.
"Don't worry Ginny," he said in a curiously empty tone. "I'd rather die myself than let Voldemort harm you. I won't let that happen - whatever it takes."
~ooOoo~
Harry was first through the kitchen door. Ginny felt him release and drop her hand like a discarded glove before he entered the room. Surprised and unsettled, she slipped into the kitchen after him, trying not to attract attention.
"I'm sorry I'm so late for this meeting," Harry began in such a serious manner that Ron's potential barracking died on his lips. "It's particularly bad-mannered of me considering that I deliberately set an early time. Please accept my apologies. Now, Hermione, if we could borrow your study for an hour or so, I'd be very grateful. Somehow our kitchen is not terribly conducive to meetings; people tend to digress on to matters totally unrelated to the subject in question. I've often wondered why."
Harry turned on his heel and left the room, evidently expecting the others to follow him. George raised his eyebrows at Fred who shrugged, picked up his coffee mug and strolled casually out into the hall. Lee followed closely on Fred's heels. George exchanged a further glance with Ron and, evidently deciding that discretion was the better part of it, rose from his chair to follow his brother. A baffled Ron trailed in George's wake, uncertain as to how Harry had managed that particular manoeuvre.
Hermione, left alone with an abandoned Ginny, absently helped her clear the coffee cups from the table to the draining board.
"Is everything - well, okay?" Hermione asked, looking intently into the other girl's face. Ginny averted her eyes, blinking slightly and shrugged.
"To be honest, Hermione," she replied in a slightly higher voice than usual, "I'm really not sure myself. Ask me another time, why don't you?"
Stiffly, Ginny turned to walk out of the kitchen leaving Hermione to bring up the rear. She was the last to arrive at a meeting being held in her own study.
~ooOoo~
"Right then, let's make a start."
Harry was brisk and businesslike. He had commandeered Hermione's desk and was seated in her swivel chair, twiddling his thumbs, waiting impatiently for the others to settle themselves. Ginny slid into the last remaining chair in the far corner of the room. With remarkable composure, Hermione drew up a footstool and, moving to the front, placed it prominently in front of Fred. Harry turned to her first.
"Hermione," he began. "I take it you've managed to check up on those planetary correlations?" She nodded. "And the results were near enough to my calculations?"
"Spot on, actually," Hermione told him firmly. "When I contacted her on the matter, Professor Sinistra confirmed your numbers without a trace of dissent. I even," and her mouth fixed in a moue of distaste, "took the courageous step of contacting Sibyll Trelawney. To my astonishment, she agreed in every particular. The prophecy has every chance of being genuine, and she can find no indication that it has already been fulfilled. That, I admit, was my major hesitation."
There was a respectful silence: for Hermione to voluntarily go within half a continent of her former Divination Professor, the situation had to be grim.
"Okay," Harry swivelled round. "Ron, what did the Ministry records have to say about the previous owner of this house?"
"Well, Harry, that was very interesting indeed." Ron fished out a notebook and flipped diffidently through the last few pages.
"On the surface," Ron began, "she was exactly as she represented herself - a lone witch, stuck with a large, magically augmented property, renting it out for years for lack of anything else to do with it. Rather than let it fall into disrepair, she looked for a wizard buyer, and you were the first to appear. However, I checked with Criminal Records, Court cases, connections with you-know-who, witness statements, etc., and I found her." He looked round at the others in triumph.
"It was a small reference," Ron continued, "and easily missed. I was lucky to find it. She was involved peripherally in two events that make her somewhat suspicious: the first was a witness statement regarding the theft of Morgana's Mirror. She was on the premises when the theft took place and gave evidence to Aurors about the perpetrators, including descriptions. For the record, the Mirror is still missing, and the thieves haven't yet been caught.
"Secondly, I found a note in one of the original transcripts from the trials of Voldemort's supporters. It was a very small infraction, but evidently she had been on the fringes of a Deatheater-incited riot near Diagon Alley, during which a number of Muggles were killed and two Aurors were badly injured. Again, she gave a witness statement, but there was some disagreement amongst the Aurors on duty as to whether she was just an innocent bystander or part of the disturbance. Eventually, they gave her the benefit of the doubt and let her go."
Ron paused. Harry was silent, stroking his chin with his fingertips, deep in thought. Eventually, he expelled a heavy breath and turned towards the others.
"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid this is a worst case scenario." Harry said at length. "We are all in very great danger, particularly while we remain in this house, but Fred is in far greater danger than anyone else."
All eyes turned to Fred, who immediately looked indignant.
"Just a moment," Fred protested. "I'm as good as any of you in a pinch, better than some ." Harry was shaking his head.
"It's not a matter of strength, Fred," Harry began. "I have been researching the basic procedure for the possession of another person's body - not by Imperius, but by total occupation. A number of preparations are necessary to attune the body to the potential new spirit. If these measures are not strictly adhered to, the body may reject its new symbiote or go immediately into positive feedback. Either way, the possession will not be complete and the consequences could be extremely dangerous to the possessing spirit. And, of course, fatal to the host."
Ginny gave a shudder.
"These procedures can take quite some time," Harry continued impassively, "and they're difficult and exacting to perform. Voldemort has put a great deal of effort into preparing you for possession, Fred. He's not going to let you off the hook easily."
"Plus," added Hermione, getting out her notes, "the alignment of the planets during this celestial phase puts You-Know-Who's plane closest to us at this time. From now onwards, the potential crossover points get further apart and more difficult to negotiate."
"So when's the next crossover point?"
"In two days' time." Hermione didn't even have to check. There was a general gasp. Fred stood up looking as agitated as they had ever seen him.
"Are you telling me," Fred began, rapidly, "that tomorrow night, You-Know- Who's going to have another go at me?"
"I think we can safely assume that he is, yes." Harry did not mince his words. Fred sat down heavily then stood up again, struck by another thought.
"These - preparations, Harry, are they harmful?"
"I don't think so," Harry replied. "They have more to do with the adjustment of that part of Voldemort himself which is planning to relocate, than any sort of tinkering with your own internal systems."
Fred wiped imaginary sweat off his brow.
"Just so long as he hasn't been tampering with anything personal." Fred muttered lightly, but his eyes were worried. Harry continued.
"The upshot of all this research, if you hadn't already gathered, is that I have screwed up royally."
The gang looked at him uncomprehendingly. Harry ran a despairing hand through his hair.
"How did I manage to beat off opposing bids for this property at the height of the development heyday, when rival companies were virtually tearing each other to shreds to get a piece of the action?" Harry sighed. "I was too ready to believe that the wizard connection guaranteed me preferential treatment, and when I saw the scale of the augmentation charm on the garden, I thought I knew why it would have been difficult to sell it to Muggles. Instead, I fell for the oldest trick in the book - the double bluff."
Harry fell silent. Eventually Hermione, her forehead creased in a frown, leaned forward.
"Harry, I'm afraid I don't understand you," she told him urgently, "and I'm sure I'm not the only one. Please explain - what double bluff? How could you possibly be to blame for our situation here?"
"I was led by the nose!" Harry burst out. "Surely you can see that? This previous owner - I bet if we tried to find her now we couldn't. She'll either be abroad or disappeared without trace. She was one of Voldemort's creatures! She was told to sell to me!
"Flamel's Stone, it must have been one hell of a shock to Voldemort to find me walking into his parlour once again in total innocence!" Harry continued, shaking his head, lost in a morass of self-reproach. "He must have thought Christmas had come early! What an opportunity! And that's what I thought it was - a gods-given opportunity to make a home for myself, for my - family. Merlin's wand, what an idiot I was!" He paused and leaned his head wearily into his hands.
"Don't beat yourself to death, mate," George spoke for the first time. "Anyone could have made the same mistake."
"I'm supposed to be one of the world's most powerful wizards!" Harry spat back. "And I fell for it hook, line and sinker. Voldemort must be laughing his socks off."
"Snap out of it, Harry. Cut out the self-pity and let's think about this." Ron snapped sharply. "Look at it this way: You-Know-Who made his primary attempt to get back to our dimension, and failed solely because of your efforts. If you hadn't realised what was happening in time, we'd all be dead. So just stop with the emotional wallowing and start thinking!"
Harry's surprised open mouth would have been comical if the situation had been less serious. He closed his teeth with an audible snap and flushed a deep brick red.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"Not your fault, mate, goes with the territory." Ron replied, patting him on the back. "Now. You tell us the Big-V is going to have another go in two days' time. How, where and what can we do to stop him?"
"Okay," began Harry, briskly. "I'll tackle 'where' first. Frankly, it doesn't matter: all he has to do is kidnap Fred one way or another then take him to a place where the magical lines of power which run through our dimension intersect. Our temple is one of those places. Not the only one, I'll grant you, but it would take some further study for me to pinpoint any of the others. That will have to wait.
"'How' and 'what' come more or less into the same category. He'll go for Fred with everything he's got, so we have to stay as a group to protect him. He won't pull any punches or worry about being subtle, and any of us who get caught in the backlash, well, that would just be a welcome bonus to him. Hermione, you discovered that the next crossover point is tomorrow night. What about the one after?" Hermione pursed her lips and consulted her notes.
"The following Tuesday," she replied, "but after that there's a two week break until the next intersection, and the planes will have drifted considerably further apart by then."
"Right then." Harry turned back to his friends. "So Voldemort's got to make the transition either tomorrow night or, as a last ditch attempt, next Tuesday. It's my belief he'll be very keen to do it as soon as possible, so I'm banking on him making an all-out effort to get Fred back during the hours of darkness tonight." There was a tense silence.
"What can we do to stop him?" It was George speaking. "I know all the standard Ministry defences, of course, but you must have some special tricks up your sleeve, Harry, after having studied him for so many years?" Harry nodded vigorously.
" Oh, yes," Harry replied. "There's quite a lot we can do to safeguard ourselves, both tonight and tomorrow. I believe we can construct sufficient protection to keep him at bay until the window of opportunity closes. Each time we resist him, it will become more difficult for him to manifest himself the next time.
"But make no mistake: the crux of what I'm telling you now is that tonight Voldemort will be at his most powerful and he will exert his greatest efforts to defeat us. We will have to use every ounce of our talent, skill and ingenuity to resist him. And what we must endure during the next few hours will be beyond imagining."
Author's Notes
The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author. Disclaimer: this is a non-profit enterprise. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, except the plot and David Markland, both of which belong to Penpusher. Tribute to: Susan Cooper's incomparable "The Dark is Rising" sequence for use of the "High Magic"; Dennis Wheatley for a plot device; and many, many other fanfiction writers whose works of all kinds and in very differing genres have been an immense inspiration to me. The quotations used as chapter titles are too numerous to credit here. Full details available on request, but Shakespeare and The Bible should yield most of them.
And all the thanks in the world to Becky (aka williara) for being a superb beta.
Chapter Seven - "On the Wings of the Morning"
Harry watched the moon go down, pressed pale into the horizon by the approaching sunrise. It was going to be another warm day, he reflected, observing the clarity of the sky, the morning mist barely shadowing its beauty.
And I have betrayed a trust, he thought. Not just to Ginny, but to a family who have loved and supported me since childhood.
Harry looked back to the double bed with its single occupant outlined against the plain dark blue sheets, and smiled a little sadly. Ginny's red hair contrasted starkly with the colour. She was deeply asleep, sated and exhausted after the fulfilment of years of longing and frustration. Harry's heart melted as he gazed at her.
She is so beautiful, Harry thought, smiling gently, and so vulnerable. So was Cho. He shifted awkwardly, unwilling to deal with those particular memories right now.
Silently, Harry opened the glass doors to the balcony and stepped out into the pre-dawn chill. He gazed out over the garden, standing perfectly still, listening to the rustling of the leaves in the faint breeze. The temple was not visible from his room, being obscured by trees, but he knew it was there and that it would not simply disappear.
Voldemort has ruined my life, Harry found himself thinking. He killed my parents. He threatened my every move throughout my young life. He tried to kill me on average once a year until I was sixteen. He destroyed my friends .
Harry felt his throat tighten as he thought of Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin, both dead at Voldemort's hand while he, Harry Potter, lived on to vanquish the evil wizard. Or so everyone thought. He turned away and went back into the bedroom, closing the glass doors silently. Ginny turned over, murmuring softly in her sleep as he left the room.
Down in the kitchen, Harry was slightly startled but not entirely surprised to find Fred moving around, fully dressed, making coffee. He looked up as Harry came in.
"Hiya," Fred said, smiling. "Care for a caffeine hit? What are you doing up at this time?"
Harry eyed him suspiciously but nevertheless retrieved a large mug from the draining board, bringing it over to be filled.
"I could ask you the same question," Harry replied, "and I, at least, am appropriately dressed for this early hour. Do my eyes deceive me, or are they last night's clothes?"
Smiling enigmatically, Fred filled two mugs with a dark, strongly aromatic brew and handed one to Harry. Harry sniffed appreciatively before taking the first reviving mouthful. Fred sipped his own coffee, frowning critically at the other man over the rim of his mug. Harry raised an enquiring eyebrow; Fred grinned in reply.
"I was trying to work out what's different about you," Fred said. "It's your hair, isn't it? You've enchanted it back to its original colour. Sun- bleaching a little out of place anywhere but LA, huh?"
"Not bad, Fred," Harry scowled and involuntarily raked a hand through his fringe, "But you haven't answered my question."
"No, I haven't, have I?" Fred riposted, cheerfully. "Just for the record, did you change your hair because Hermione commented on it or because Ginny did?" Harry felt his face flush.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Fred!"
"Now who's not answering questions!"
"Look, Fred, Hermione's my best friend, apart from Ron, and Ginny - well, Ginny's ."
"Upstairs asleep in your bed at present, so if you don't want to completely arse-up your relationship before it's even off the ground, you'd better take her the extra cup of coffee!"
Fred held out a further full mug, grinning wolfishly. Harry stared at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, then spluttered violently as he forgot to swallow before breathing. Fred, enjoying every moment of Harry's confusion, patted him solicitously on the back as he fought for control.
"What - did you just say?" Harry whispered hoarsely, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his bathrobe.
"You heard," Fred responded. "I'm not the best intelligence officer in the Ministry for nothing, you know. Hey, relax - chill out!" He grinned in genuine amusement at Harry's horrified face.
"I'm not going to rip your balls off for bonking my sister, and neither is George: as a matter of fact, we couldn't be more pleased," Fred continued affably. "She's been aching for it for years and let's face it - you've got to be a better prospect than the pratt who's just given her the push!"
Harry was stunned almost into immobility. Fred crowed loudly.
"Oh, if only Ron were here to see this!" Fred exclaimed, jubilantly. "The famous Harry Potter, completely lost for words!"
"Oh, my owl - Ron!" Harry whispered, his face abruptly panic-stricken.
"Now Ron's reaction could be a touch tricky," Fred admitted more soberly. "He's a mite protective when it comes to our little sister." He shrugged. "But I guess you'll have to cross that bridge when you come to it."
Fred raised his mug in a mock toast and smiled genially over the rim. Ignoring him, Harry refilled his own mug, picked up the fresh full one and, nodding his thanks to Fred, departed back to the West Wing.
Ginny wasn't yet awake when Harry opened the door, but the smell of the coffee seemed to act like an alarm clock and, as he placed her mug gently on the bedside table, she stirred, stretched and opened her eyes. Harry smiled as she gazed mistily up at him, her eyes unfocussed, like a small child, then she gave a dreamy yawn and stretched languorously.
"Good morning," she said, her voice husky.
"Good morning." Harry replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing her the coffee. "Did you sleep well?"
Ginny gave him a sharp look as though she expected there to be some sting behind the query, but his eyes were bland and innocuous.
"Thank you, yes," Ginny replied. "Your bed is very comfortable. And thank you for the coffee too." She sat up, reaching carefully for the mug, the sheet held strategically over her torso. Harry's eyes traveled over the long line of her back to where it disappeared under the covers. He swallowed, quickly shifting his gaze to her face.
"Ginny," Harry said, his expression serious. "Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into?" Ginny pouted, making a sound of annoyance.
"Harry Potter, for goodness sake, we went through all this at length last night!" she said, glaring at him in exasperation as she sipped her drink. "I'm a big girl now and I have every intention of behaving like one. I've waited years for this, and you're not going to talk your way out of it by harping on and on about You-Know-Who."
Harry put down his empty mug and took her hands; his skin tingled at the touch.
"Ginny, you know how I feel about you," he began quietly. "You saw into my heart only too plainly." He paused and continued in a quieter, more hesitant voice. "But, you see, there's still - Cho."
Ginny cringed inside. The spectre of Cho Chang had haunted her throughout her life, it seemed. Doomed Harry Potter, who triumphed over the Dark Lord when all was thought to be lost, only to subsequently lose his girl in a tragic accident which broke his heart beyond all mending: this had been the substance of many a glossy Witch magazine's speculations. Ginny had read them all, and had cursed Cho over and over again, largely for being dead and therefore unassailable. A living Cho could perhaps have been supplanted, a dead one, never.
"Do you often think about her? Cho, I mean," Ginny asked. Her voice trembled slightly; Harry seemed not to notice. He sat silently brooding for a moment then he shifted awkwardly in his seat and looked back at her.
"All the time, Ginny," he replied, huskily. "Every day."
Ginny lowered her eyes into her empty mug, but Harry hadn't finished.
"I can't avoid thinking about her constantly when I know in my heart that I was responsible for her death."
Ginny raised her head and stared at him.
"What do you mean? Harry, it was a Muggle car that ran her down, I read the newspaper reports." she trailed off in confusion. He was nodding.
"Oh yes, I know what the rags said about it," Harry replied, coolly. "I read them all, several times. Then I burnt them."
A silence descended between them, thick as marsh mud. Ginny's free hand pleated and unpleated the edge of the sheet; she could think of nothing to say that would help.
"Ginny, I can't protect you from Voldemort." Harry continued finally. His face was sad. "I'm one of the most skilled wizards in the world, and yet I can't guarantee your life." He rose to his feet and began to pace the room.
"I know it'll be difficult," he said, not looking at her, "especially after last night, but the safest thing by far for us both would be to put what happened between us on the back burner. For me to solve this riddle concerning the temple in the garden, try to stop Voldemort returning at this time, and then to go back to LA. We can, of course, see each other occasionally when I return to England, but otherwise we've got to call a halt. He must never know that I. that we've. Well, anyway, it's the only way you're going to be truly safe from him."
"Are you kidding?" Ginny sat bolt upright, forgetting her state of undress. "Harry Potter, I have absolutely no intention of letting you out of my sight! I think all this analysis has gone to your head. I'm a witch, Harry, and a far better one than Cho ever was, despite my lack of practice. You-Know-Who is not going to get the better of me in a hurry. Just let him try, that's all!" Harry smiled.
"No wonder they put you in Gryffindor, my little red-haired lion." he teased, quickly looking away as he realised just how far her sheet had slipped. Ginny flushed, scrambling to restore her dignity, then she stopped, let the bedclothes fall away from her body and looked up at Harry through thick, dark eyelashes.
"Let's just enjoy each other while we can," Ginny whispered, opening her arms to him. "Whatever happens in the future, at least we can have this brief time together. Please?"
And Harry could find no good reason in his heart to hold back any longer.
~ooOoo~
This time was better, Harry thought.
The first time had been born of desperate hunger and a backlog of emotional confusion, and while the results were not exactly brief, they had certainly been intense. When it was over, Ginny had fallen instantly into the oblivion of exhaustion, leaving Harry physically drained but his mind working overtime.
This second time was different. Now with the freedom to move more slowly, Harry began to uncover memories and to rediscover delights he had thought he would never experience with a woman again. He moved more surely now, no longer frantic to relieve the ache, but able to pace himself. I'm the one who's out of practice here, he realised with amusement, but we'll get there.
Much later, Harry kissed Ginny gently and settled her head in the crook of his shoulder before they both drifted into an untroubled, dreamless sleep.
~ooOoo~
"Lee, Ron, I'm really sorry but we're going to have to have our coffee and wait until Harry surfaces."
Hermione was as flustered as any of them had ever seen her.
"It's so unlike him to sleep in," Hermione continued worriedly, "but I really don't want to disturb him after all he's been through lately. And another thing," she turned an anxious face towards Fred. "I can't seem to find Ginny. Her bed's been slept in and she's obviously changed clothes at some stage, but she doesn't seem to be anywhere in the house."
Like the experienced intelligence officer he was, Fred remained outwardly calm, betraying none of his inner amusement.
"Don't get into a state, Hermione," he began soothingly, his face bland. "It's not as though she's likely to run away. She's probably just gone to the newsagents." Hermione looked at him scathingly.
"The Daily Prophet comes by owl, you know that Fred!"
"She's lived with a Muggle for three years," Fred suggested, shrugging. "Perhaps she has a favourite Muggle Sunday paper."
George turned away and unnecessarily filled the kettle with water to hide a smile.
"Ah well," said Ron, flinging himself on to the sofa with exaggerated abandon. "We've got all day, I suppose - except that Lee and I have a lunch date round the 'Cat & Warlock'."
"Really," said Hermione, too casually. "Anyone I know?" Lee giggled.
"Yeah." Ron replied heartily. "The heats of the Quidditch World Cup, England -v- Transylvania, and a couple of pints of butterbeer!" Hermione sniffed.
"Louts!" she muttered, but she refilled their coffee mugs all the same.
~ooOoo~
Ginny woke first, stretching gently and registering that the window was much lighter than it had been earlier. She turned towards Harry, kissing his neck and snuggling closer. Still half-asleep, Harry wrapped his arms more tightly around her, his lips searching drowsily for hers. After a very pleasant few moments, he opened his eyes and smiled.
"What a wonderful way to wake up," Harry murmured indistinctly, hands and mouth busy. Ginny submitted just long enough to make sure he was really interested, then wriggled free and slid out from beneath the sheets.
"Hey!" protested Harry, sitting up. "Where are you going?"
She giggled and, throwing on Hermione's bathrobe, opened the bedroom door, pausing in the doorway
"There's a huge new corner bath in my bathroom," she whispered, mischievously. "Want to come christen it?"
She gave a piercing shriek as Harry bounded out of bed, not even bothering to grab his robe, and pelted down the corridor after her.
~ooOoo~
Hermione paused in her conversation with Lee and frowned, looking towards the West Wing staircase.
"I thought I heard - wait a minute, I think Harry must have surfaced." Hermione smiled in relief.
"I'll go check," put in Fred quickly, getting to his feet, but he was just slightly too late.
"It's okay," said Ron, already halfway to the stairs, holding a mug. "I'll see if he wants some coffee."
So much for breaking it to Ron gently! mused Fred as he returned to his seat, mentally cringing in anticipation of the forthcoming explosion.
Ron climbed the West Wing staircase towards Harry's room, noting the muffled sounds of giggling and splashing coming from Ginny's bathroom. He smiled: she sounded happy enough with her new quarters. At least Hermione could stop worrying about where she was.
"Come on, mate," he announced loudly, striding into Harry's room coffee in hand. "Time for another council of war, all the gang are here. Get up, you lazy ."
But Harry was nowhere to be seen. Ron crossed to the bathroom and knocked gently on the door: it swung open revealing a totally empty room. He turned slowly and surveyed Harry's bedroom. The curtains were still drawn, the bed unmade and in extreme disarray, and various items of clothing lay in unceremonious puddles on the floor. Hardly knowing what he was doing, he picked up a vaguely familiar pink nightshirt, regarded it with his jaw hanging loose then draped it unseeingly over the bed. Still holding the cup of coffee, he left Harry's room and followed the splashing sounds almost as though his feet were doing the thinking for him. On autopilot, he walked through Ginny's bedroom, across towards the wide-open bathroom door and peered around it.
They were both in the new tub Harry had designed with their backs to the door. Harry was washing Ginny's hair, pausing occasionally to brush away the bubbles dripping down his face from his own drenched head.
"I don't have to use the conditioner on my hair too, do I?" Harry grumbled as he worked the shampoo through the long red mane. Ginny giggled.
"Oh, alright, I'll let you off, but you've still got to do mine - and comb it through!" Harry groaned, pausing in his ministrations to look around for a comb.
"Do you mean to tell me I've got to get out and drip all over the new carpets just so that you can look beautiful?"
Ginny turned her head and grinned at him, kissing his nose briefly.
"S'right, lover boy. Time you learned what it is to have a girlfriend!"
Muttering under his breath, Harry stood up, turning round to get out of the bath, and froze.
"Oh, gods." Harry breathed.
"What?" said Ginny, starting to turn round. With incredible presence of mind, Harry thrust her back into the bath water.
"Mmmf! Harry!" she shrieked indignantly.
"Don't get up," Harry told her, calmly enough. "Just keep under the bubbles."
Harry looked back at Ron. The readhead's jaw was hanging slackly, his eyes goggling, and as Harry watched, the cup of black coffee slid unheeded from his hand to splash its contents over the new carpet. Harry sighed and got out of the bath, wrapping a towel around his waist, giving Ginny a suddenly unobstructed view of the doorway. She gasped in horror and let out a sharp scream.
Down in the kitchen, every eye suddenly jerked towards the stairs. Fred winced involuntarily.
Harry walked over to Ron and picked up the fallen mug, shaking his head.
"Nice of you to bring me coffee, mate, but I guess it could have waited until I'd got downstairs."
Ron did not react, he seemed in shock. Harry shrugged, took Ron's wand out of his pocket and muttered a brief charm. The coffee immediately levitated out of the carpet and back into the mug. Having just about recovered from the intrusion, Ginny leaned over the side of the bath, careful to keep most of herself hidden.
"You'll have to teach me that one," she said conversationally. "I still have to deal with spillages the Muggle way."
"Serves you right for letting things slide for four years!" Harry replied, smiling wryly, then looked at her critically.
"Much as I like your present attire," Harry began reluctantly, "I think it might be as well if you got dressed now, Ginny. I'll deal with Ron."
Ginny nodded, and modestly waited for them to leave.
Steering Ron back into the bedroom, Harry then walked him into the corridor and propped him up against a wall.
"Stay here," Harry ordered. "I'm just going to throw some clothes on."
Two minutes later, Harry emerged with bare feet, pulling a teeshirt over his head. Ron was still where Harry had left him, frowning and absently sipping the recovered coffee. Harry paused, unsure from which direction the inevitable attack was going to come, then Ron did something which floored him completely: he smiled.
"Well, it's certainly taken long enough," he said amiably. "I'd written you two off - I never expected in a month of Sundays. Well, well, well - and in a bath too! I never had you pegged as the adventurous type, Harry." Harry paused, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"Whatever perverted conclusions your twisted little mind is jumping to, Ron," Harry protested, "I can assure you the situation in the bathroom was entirely innocent. We were just - getting clean."
Ron's laughter had become hysterical before Harry had even finished the sentence.
"Getting clean?" Ron spluttered when he was once more capable of speech. "My owl, that's the most original name for it I've heard in a long while - and you can stand there spouting that sanctimonious load of codswallop with a totally straight face too!"
Harry stood feeling rather foolish while his friend bent over almost double with laughter.
"Ron," Harry began, warningly, "if you so much as think about teasing Ginny on this subject, I'll drag you straight back into that bathroom, and drown you in that nice, new tub!"
Ron's eyes were out on stalks.
"Flamel's Stone, Harry; water sports with my sister is one thing, but I had no idea you were into team events! It just shows, doesn't it? You never really know your friends till you share a bath with them. Come to think of it, perhaps Hermione should try to persuade Colin Creevey he'd like to move in here with you after all - I hear on the wizard grapevine he has an interest in both teams."
Glaring at his laughing friend, Harry punched Ron none-too-gently on the shoulder.
"Ow!" said Ron, jumping about and holding his arm, still laughing. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger! I only came up here to call you downstairs. The whole gang's here. Or had you forgotten the meeting?"
Harry's blank look rapidly shifted into one of sudden enlightenment and he clapped his hand to his forehead.
"Great Merlin, I had forgotten!" Ron smirked.
"So many other things to concentrate on that it sort of slipped your mind, huh?"
"Ron, if you don't go downstairs right now and stop winding me up, it'll be the Furnunculus curse, no messing about, I promise!"
"Okay, okay!" Ron thrust the coffee mug at Harry and held up his hands in surrender. "We'll see you two in - a few minutes, yes?"
Still chuckling, he disappeared back to the kitchen. Harry sighed and started to drink the remains of the coffee Ron had brought him. He made a face - it was really too cold to bother with now. He went back into Ginny's bedroom, pausing to knock on the door before entering, and found her drying her hair with a desiccating charm.
"It's not good for the hair," she explained at Harry's puzzled look. "I have to use a repair serum afterwards, which almost defeats the point, but I think speed is of the essence this morning, seeing as we were due in a meeting half an hour ago."
"If you knew that, why didn't you tell me?" Harry protested. Ginny smiled.
"I didn't like to," she replied, "You seemed to be having so much fun I thought it would be a shame to spoil it ."
Ginny didn't get to finish her sentence as Harry, having endured quite a bit of teasing already that morning, made a lunge for her that narrowly missed. With the agility of a monkey, Ginny dodged his outstretched arms, skirted the bed and scuttled out of the door, coming to an abrupt stop at the top of the stairs. She eyed him solemnly as he skidded to a halt beside her and took his hand. He raised his eyebrows questioningly at her change of mood.
"Harry," Ginny said, timid but determined, "It's make-your-mind-up time now, okay? If this was a one-night-stand then you'd better come out with it before we go downstairs. By now, Ron will have told them everything. And with a good deal of embroidery, if I know my brother. They're really going to let us have it, so we'd better make sure we're on the same page. What's it going to be?"
"A one-night-stand? Ginny, you could never be that. No one who knows you would even consider such a thing." Harry put an arm protectively around her. "Besides which," he continued wryly, "your brothers, while seeming to be reasonably content with the situation at present, would have no hesitation in castrating me and hanging the bits from the chimney pots if I let you down."
"You could be right at that." Ginny replied, raising a speculative eyebrow. Harry tightened his arm, squeezing her shoulders. He looked down into her eyes, his face serious and shadowed.
"Don't worry Ginny," he said in a curiously empty tone. "I'd rather die myself than let Voldemort harm you. I won't let that happen - whatever it takes."
~ooOoo~
Harry was first through the kitchen door. Ginny felt him release and drop her hand like a discarded glove before he entered the room. Surprised and unsettled, she slipped into the kitchen after him, trying not to attract attention.
"I'm sorry I'm so late for this meeting," Harry began in such a serious manner that Ron's potential barracking died on his lips. "It's particularly bad-mannered of me considering that I deliberately set an early time. Please accept my apologies. Now, Hermione, if we could borrow your study for an hour or so, I'd be very grateful. Somehow our kitchen is not terribly conducive to meetings; people tend to digress on to matters totally unrelated to the subject in question. I've often wondered why."
Harry turned on his heel and left the room, evidently expecting the others to follow him. George raised his eyebrows at Fred who shrugged, picked up his coffee mug and strolled casually out into the hall. Lee followed closely on Fred's heels. George exchanged a further glance with Ron and, evidently deciding that discretion was the better part of it, rose from his chair to follow his brother. A baffled Ron trailed in George's wake, uncertain as to how Harry had managed that particular manoeuvre.
Hermione, left alone with an abandoned Ginny, absently helped her clear the coffee cups from the table to the draining board.
"Is everything - well, okay?" Hermione asked, looking intently into the other girl's face. Ginny averted her eyes, blinking slightly and shrugged.
"To be honest, Hermione," she replied in a slightly higher voice than usual, "I'm really not sure myself. Ask me another time, why don't you?"
Stiffly, Ginny turned to walk out of the kitchen leaving Hermione to bring up the rear. She was the last to arrive at a meeting being held in her own study.
~ooOoo~
"Right then, let's make a start."
Harry was brisk and businesslike. He had commandeered Hermione's desk and was seated in her swivel chair, twiddling his thumbs, waiting impatiently for the others to settle themselves. Ginny slid into the last remaining chair in the far corner of the room. With remarkable composure, Hermione drew up a footstool and, moving to the front, placed it prominently in front of Fred. Harry turned to her first.
"Hermione," he began. "I take it you've managed to check up on those planetary correlations?" She nodded. "And the results were near enough to my calculations?"
"Spot on, actually," Hermione told him firmly. "When I contacted her on the matter, Professor Sinistra confirmed your numbers without a trace of dissent. I even," and her mouth fixed in a moue of distaste, "took the courageous step of contacting Sibyll Trelawney. To my astonishment, she agreed in every particular. The prophecy has every chance of being genuine, and she can find no indication that it has already been fulfilled. That, I admit, was my major hesitation."
There was a respectful silence: for Hermione to voluntarily go within half a continent of her former Divination Professor, the situation had to be grim.
"Okay," Harry swivelled round. "Ron, what did the Ministry records have to say about the previous owner of this house?"
"Well, Harry, that was very interesting indeed." Ron fished out a notebook and flipped diffidently through the last few pages.
"On the surface," Ron began, "she was exactly as she represented herself - a lone witch, stuck with a large, magically augmented property, renting it out for years for lack of anything else to do with it. Rather than let it fall into disrepair, she looked for a wizard buyer, and you were the first to appear. However, I checked with Criminal Records, Court cases, connections with you-know-who, witness statements, etc., and I found her." He looked round at the others in triumph.
"It was a small reference," Ron continued, "and easily missed. I was lucky to find it. She was involved peripherally in two events that make her somewhat suspicious: the first was a witness statement regarding the theft of Morgana's Mirror. She was on the premises when the theft took place and gave evidence to Aurors about the perpetrators, including descriptions. For the record, the Mirror is still missing, and the thieves haven't yet been caught.
"Secondly, I found a note in one of the original transcripts from the trials of Voldemort's supporters. It was a very small infraction, but evidently she had been on the fringes of a Deatheater-incited riot near Diagon Alley, during which a number of Muggles were killed and two Aurors were badly injured. Again, she gave a witness statement, but there was some disagreement amongst the Aurors on duty as to whether she was just an innocent bystander or part of the disturbance. Eventually, they gave her the benefit of the doubt and let her go."
Ron paused. Harry was silent, stroking his chin with his fingertips, deep in thought. Eventually, he expelled a heavy breath and turned towards the others.
"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid this is a worst case scenario." Harry said at length. "We are all in very great danger, particularly while we remain in this house, but Fred is in far greater danger than anyone else."
All eyes turned to Fred, who immediately looked indignant.
"Just a moment," Fred protested. "I'm as good as any of you in a pinch, better than some ." Harry was shaking his head.
"It's not a matter of strength, Fred," Harry began. "I have been researching the basic procedure for the possession of another person's body - not by Imperius, but by total occupation. A number of preparations are necessary to attune the body to the potential new spirit. If these measures are not strictly adhered to, the body may reject its new symbiote or go immediately into positive feedback. Either way, the possession will not be complete and the consequences could be extremely dangerous to the possessing spirit. And, of course, fatal to the host."
Ginny gave a shudder.
"These procedures can take quite some time," Harry continued impassively, "and they're difficult and exacting to perform. Voldemort has put a great deal of effort into preparing you for possession, Fred. He's not going to let you off the hook easily."
"Plus," added Hermione, getting out her notes, "the alignment of the planets during this celestial phase puts You-Know-Who's plane closest to us at this time. From now onwards, the potential crossover points get further apart and more difficult to negotiate."
"So when's the next crossover point?"
"In two days' time." Hermione didn't even have to check. There was a general gasp. Fred stood up looking as agitated as they had ever seen him.
"Are you telling me," Fred began, rapidly, "that tomorrow night, You-Know- Who's going to have another go at me?"
"I think we can safely assume that he is, yes." Harry did not mince his words. Fred sat down heavily then stood up again, struck by another thought.
"These - preparations, Harry, are they harmful?"
"I don't think so," Harry replied. "They have more to do with the adjustment of that part of Voldemort himself which is planning to relocate, than any sort of tinkering with your own internal systems."
Fred wiped imaginary sweat off his brow.
"Just so long as he hasn't been tampering with anything personal." Fred muttered lightly, but his eyes were worried. Harry continued.
"The upshot of all this research, if you hadn't already gathered, is that I have screwed up royally."
The gang looked at him uncomprehendingly. Harry ran a despairing hand through his hair.
"How did I manage to beat off opposing bids for this property at the height of the development heyday, when rival companies were virtually tearing each other to shreds to get a piece of the action?" Harry sighed. "I was too ready to believe that the wizard connection guaranteed me preferential treatment, and when I saw the scale of the augmentation charm on the garden, I thought I knew why it would have been difficult to sell it to Muggles. Instead, I fell for the oldest trick in the book - the double bluff."
Harry fell silent. Eventually Hermione, her forehead creased in a frown, leaned forward.
"Harry, I'm afraid I don't understand you," she told him urgently, "and I'm sure I'm not the only one. Please explain - what double bluff? How could you possibly be to blame for our situation here?"
"I was led by the nose!" Harry burst out. "Surely you can see that? This previous owner - I bet if we tried to find her now we couldn't. She'll either be abroad or disappeared without trace. She was one of Voldemort's creatures! She was told to sell to me!
"Flamel's Stone, it must have been one hell of a shock to Voldemort to find me walking into his parlour once again in total innocence!" Harry continued, shaking his head, lost in a morass of self-reproach. "He must have thought Christmas had come early! What an opportunity! And that's what I thought it was - a gods-given opportunity to make a home for myself, for my - family. Merlin's wand, what an idiot I was!" He paused and leaned his head wearily into his hands.
"Don't beat yourself to death, mate," George spoke for the first time. "Anyone could have made the same mistake."
"I'm supposed to be one of the world's most powerful wizards!" Harry spat back. "And I fell for it hook, line and sinker. Voldemort must be laughing his socks off."
"Snap out of it, Harry. Cut out the self-pity and let's think about this." Ron snapped sharply. "Look at it this way: You-Know-Who made his primary attempt to get back to our dimension, and failed solely because of your efforts. If you hadn't realised what was happening in time, we'd all be dead. So just stop with the emotional wallowing and start thinking!"
Harry's surprised open mouth would have been comical if the situation had been less serious. He closed his teeth with an audible snap and flushed a deep brick red.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"Not your fault, mate, goes with the territory." Ron replied, patting him on the back. "Now. You tell us the Big-V is going to have another go in two days' time. How, where and what can we do to stop him?"
"Okay," began Harry, briskly. "I'll tackle 'where' first. Frankly, it doesn't matter: all he has to do is kidnap Fred one way or another then take him to a place where the magical lines of power which run through our dimension intersect. Our temple is one of those places. Not the only one, I'll grant you, but it would take some further study for me to pinpoint any of the others. That will have to wait.
"'How' and 'what' come more or less into the same category. He'll go for Fred with everything he's got, so we have to stay as a group to protect him. He won't pull any punches or worry about being subtle, and any of us who get caught in the backlash, well, that would just be a welcome bonus to him. Hermione, you discovered that the next crossover point is tomorrow night. What about the one after?" Hermione pursed her lips and consulted her notes.
"The following Tuesday," she replied, "but after that there's a two week break until the next intersection, and the planes will have drifted considerably further apart by then."
"Right then." Harry turned back to his friends. "So Voldemort's got to make the transition either tomorrow night or, as a last ditch attempt, next Tuesday. It's my belief he'll be very keen to do it as soon as possible, so I'm banking on him making an all-out effort to get Fred back during the hours of darkness tonight." There was a tense silence.
"What can we do to stop him?" It was George speaking. "I know all the standard Ministry defences, of course, but you must have some special tricks up your sleeve, Harry, after having studied him for so many years?" Harry nodded vigorously.
" Oh, yes," Harry replied. "There's quite a lot we can do to safeguard ourselves, both tonight and tomorrow. I believe we can construct sufficient protection to keep him at bay until the window of opportunity closes. Each time we resist him, it will become more difficult for him to manifest himself the next time.
"But make no mistake: the crux of what I'm telling you now is that tonight Voldemort will be at his most powerful and he will exert his greatest efforts to defeat us. We will have to use every ounce of our talent, skill and ingenuity to resist him. And what we must endure during the next few hours will be beyond imagining."
Author's Notes
The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author. Disclaimer: this is a non-profit enterprise. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, except the plot and David Markland, both of which belong to Penpusher. Tribute to: Susan Cooper's incomparable "The Dark is Rising" sequence for use of the "High Magic"; Dennis Wheatley for a plot device; and many, many other fanfiction writers whose works of all kinds and in very differing genres have been an immense inspiration to me. The quotations used as chapter titles are too numerous to credit here. Full details available on request, but Shakespeare and The Bible should yield most of them.
And all the thanks in the world to Becky (aka williara) for being a superb beta.