It's still all JKR's. Hope you enjoy this next chapter. Please, please, please keep reviewing
Sunday Afternoon
Harry and Ron clambered through the portrait hole after a particularly energetic Quidditch training session, howling with laughter about Fred and George's newly invented game of bludger tennis.
"Absolutely lethal," chuckled Ron. "How long do you reckon before one of them loses an eye?"
Harry's gaze had fallen on a table in the corner of the common room, almost obscured from view. Sitting at it and talking intently behind a stack of precariously balanced books were Hermione and Ginny. He felt the familiar warm glow deep inside him, but was slightly unsettled when he saw Ginny suddenly look up and fix him with a pleading stare. He could only just make out why. She was fumbling with her watch strap, desperately trying to refasten it before Ron spotted what she had so far managed to conceal.
"D'you reckon they could manage it with both bludgers?" Harry asked quickly, playing for more time.
"I wouldn't put it past them," Ron continued laughing. "And did you see the expression on Madam Hooch's face when she saw what they were up to?"
"Couldn't miss it!" Harry grinned. "I wonder if she's still got them out there? Should be able to see from here." He peered intently though the window and Ron followed suit, squinting down at the distant Quidditch pitch, but there was nothing to be seen.
Turning back into the room, Harry was relieved to see that the panic in the corner seemed to be over. For a fleeting second he thought he must have imagined it, as Hermione sat alone, poring over a piece of homework, quill in hand, but then his attention was caught by a flurry of red hair and black robes vanishing swiftly in the direction of the girls' staircase. Ron caught sight of Hermione too, and grinned.
"She's working too hard," he muttered to Harry, blushing slightly. "Time for a bit of a distraction, I think."
He crept over to where she was sitting, and stealthily reached around her chair to tickle her. Hermione uttered a small squeak of surprise and looked up at him, smiling in greeting.
"Good Quidditch practise?" she asked him as he leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Ron! Not in here!" she whispered in a horrified undertone. "I'm supposed to be setting a good example as a prefect. What would Professor McGonagall say?"
"I'm not proposing to kiss her," Ron laughed, sitting down on the arm of her chair. "Anyway, I'm not a prefect, so why don't I set you a bad example?" and he leaned across and kissed her again.
Hermione turned pink, her expression a comical mixture of horror and pleasure, and Harry could only smile at the scene as he sprawled luxuriously across a nearby sofa. It was still strange seeing them together like this, and they were very much getting used to the boundaries of their new relationship too. He was genuinely pleased for them, but it was so easy for them. When he thought about what could have been with Ginny, he felt a strong urge to get up and kick something. Hard.
It was almost tearing him apart these days, he wanted to be with her so badly. There was no need for them to spend time together on the Imperius Curse now; Professor McGonagall had been delighted when they had shown her Ginny's achievements in combating the curse, awarding twenty points for Gryffindor. Since then, Harry had felt like there was something missing; an unpleasant hollowness gnawing away inside him.
He watched Ron and Hermione's antics. Ron had been surprisingly calm when he had confessed to harbouring feelings for his little sister, but he had never mentioned it after they left the hospital wing. He couldn't help but wonder if his reaction would be the same when he learned about the charm Ginny had performed.
"Ron," Hermione was saying in exasperation. "I've got to finish this bit of Astronomy first, then I'll have a break. Just go and get changed or something. It won't take long if you leave me alone."
"Fair enough," he said, getting to his feet. "Are you coming Harry, or do you want me to take your broom up?"
"Astronomy," Harry said, emitting a low groan and sitting up reluctantly. "I've forgotten to pick that book up from the library. It's a massive piece of homework as well. Do you reckon Madam Pince'll be there now, Hermione?"
"Probably," replied Hermione briskly. "I'll come down with you actually and see if she's got the Arithmancy book I ordered." She looked questioningly at Ron.
"It's Sunday. I am going nowhere near that library," Ron stated flatly, picking up Harry's Firebolt and heading for the stairs. "I'll see you two later."
Hermione and Harry wandered slowly down the portrait-lined corridor in the direction of the library, listening to the wind whistling against the castle walls. Some figures were nodding sleepily in their frames, others were away visiting friends in their far distant pictures elsewhere in the castle. None of them took the slightest notice as the two students strolled past.
"Ginny told me," Hermione said quietly, shooting him a sideways look.
"I guessed as much," Harry replied, blushing slightly. He hesitated, but knew Hermione would be completely honest with him. "What do you think?"
"The charm is incredibly complicated, Harry," she said thoughtfully. "It says a lot about your feelings for each other that you got the charm working in the first place. It's very advanced magic, you know, and wouldn't have happened at all without a strong emotional bond to start with."
"Ah!" said Harry, reddening further, as they rounded a corner and passed through a tapestry-concealed doorway.
"I know it's none of my business," Hermione continued, looking at him with a flicker of concern crossing her face, "but something's bothering you. Is it Ginny?"
"Sort of," Harry replied, squirming a bit. "It's a lot of things really, Hermione. How do you think Ron's going to react to all this? He wasn't too happy when he thought there was something going on between me and Ginny."
"Well there is something going on, isn't there," Hermione smiled knowingly at him. "He'll get used to it, Harry. Don't worry."
"It's not Ron. I know he never stays mad for long," Harry admitted.
"Then what?" she asked as they reached the end of the corridor and entered the quietness of the library.
The oak-panelled library was completely deserted, candles flickering in their sconces along the walls cast eerie shadows through the dullness of the day. Magic crackled through the books in the restricted section, some volumes struggling to escape the confines of their cases, others appearing ominously bloodstained. Hermione perched on a table and gave Harry a searching stare, which reminded him instantly of Professor McGonagall, and raised an eyebrow.
"Voldemort," he replied simply to her question.
"What?" she gasped.
"It's like Ron said," Harry explained despondently. "All I'll do is put Ginny in danger. He could use her to get to me. You know how he works, Hermione." To his amazement Hermione grinned at him.
"Is that all?" she laughed. "Are you a wizard, or what?"
He looked at her in bewilderment, as she stood up, grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into a stack of books on the opposite side of the library.
"What?" he spluttered, lacking comprehension, but realisation slowly dawned on him when he saw where she was pointing.
"Protection spells. Of course!" he breathed, hope surging through his heart, and an idiotic grin spreading across his face. "You're a genius, Hermione! I could kiss you!" He paused and laughed. "I'd better not though, I think Ron's going to be angry enough with what I'm planning."
"Well, we'd better get looking for the right one," Hermione said, passing him an enormous book and rolling up her sleeves, eyes twinkling at him. "I reckon we've got an hour or two before we're missed upstairs."
***
Ginny was frowning intently at her palm, and consulting her copy of "Unfogging the Future" as she struggled to do her Divination homework. Her hair was knotted at the nape of her neck again, wand driven securely through it. She tilted her head sideways as she examined her hand, firelight glinting against the coppery hues in her hair, and sighed heavily.
"Should have listened to me and done something else," Ron said cheerfully to her, measuring his History of Magic essay. "Bother! Still five inches short!"
"Tea leaves were easier," she said disconsolately, "even if most clumps did look like sleeping unicorns."
"You can do my palm instead if you want," offered Harry, looking up from his Astronomy chart and grinning at her. "As long as I'm dying some sort of horrible death she'll believe you. You'll probably get good marks for it."
Hermione snorted.
"Professor Trelawney is an old fraud," she said, not even bothering to look up from the massive volume she was reading.
Harry sneaked a look at Ginny's wrist and could see the very tip of the scar peeping out from beneath her watch. The other end was well concealed beneath her robes. The lightening bolt image across her skin fascinated him; something of his had now become part of her. An unbreakable bond joining them together.
Looking up he smiled as he saw her screwing up her face in concentration, trying to fathom what the lines on her hand meant, and happened to notice a faint wisp of smoke drifting from the back of her head.
"Ginny," he said in alarm. "I think your hair's on fire again."
She gasped in horror, pulling her wand away swiftly, sending cascades of dark red hair crashing tempestuously around her. Without even pausing to think, Harry reached over, to make sure smouldering remains were put out before any further injury was caused. Her hair was soft against his fingers, smooth and luxurious, caressing his hands as he searched for the damage.
"It's not too bad," he said at last, removing a few fragments of singed hair. "There's a few short bits round where your wand tip was, but I don't think it'll show."
"Thanks," came her muffled voice from beneath her hair. Harry ran his fingers gently through it again, enjoying the sensation of being able to touch her. Then he caught Ron's eye and rapidly let go. She lifted her head and shook her hair out of her face, feeling for the damage herself "It was a lot worse last time," she said with relief. "Thanks Harry."
Harry buried his reddening face in his astronomy chart and tried to concentrate on plotting the planets, his heart beating erratically all the while. Ginny seemed to be having equal difficulty in concentrating, as she finally flung her copy of "Unfogging the Future" down on the table and got to her feet.
"I don't know about 'Unfogging the Future'" she exclaimed in exasperation, "but my brain certainly needs to be unfogged. I'm going for a walk. Anyone want to come?"
"Yeah," said Harry, looking blankly back at his piece of parchment. "You know, I could swear that Venus is in the wrong half of the sky. A walk sounds good." He looked over at Ron and Hermione, but Hermione shook her head.
"Goblin rebellion of 1246," she explained. "Got to get this done today, but I'll help you with your astronomy later, if you want." Ron just grinned at him, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Hermione's knowledge of that particular Goblin Rebellion would be no further forward when they returned.
It was cold outside; the sort of coldness that cuts mercilessly, chilling to the core. The wind swirled around them in the doorway, blowing Ginny's hair into an uncontrollable tornado around her head. She pinned it down with her hands and stuffed it unceremoniously into her cloak hood, pulling it tighter around her ears. She looked at him, excitement in her eyes.
"I love it when it's like this," she said, little wisps of hair already reaching for freedom in the stormy wind. "Where shall we go?"
"How about Hagrid's? He's usually good for a cup of tea, but I'd advise against the rock cakes," he grinned.
He felt her hand sliding gently into his, and held on tightly as they stepped into the wildness of the afternoon. Heads bowed against the relentlessness pummelling of the wind, they skirted the shelter of the castle and then across the exposed lawns to Hagrid's cabin, cloaks tugging as the gale whipped round them.
Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the forest was warm and inviting after the ferocity of the wind outside. Hagrid beamed in delight to see them, and soon had his gigantic teapot steaming on the table and a plate of his home-made scones beside it. Fang, the enormous boar hound was affectionately slobbering all over Ginny, trying desperately to sit on her knee. Harry smiled to himself. He knew just how Fang felt.
"Yer jus' like yer brother Charlie," Hagrid chucked, watching Fang wriggle with pleasure as she scratched him behind his ear. "Good with animals. How's he doin' with them dragons?" He passed her a mug of tea, and Fang settled his chin on her lap staring up at her with adoring eyes.
"He's fine," she smiled back at Hagrid. "I got an owl from him last week. He said he might even be home for Christmas this year. I'd love to see him, but mum and dad seem to think we're all safer staying here at Hogwarts."
"I 'spect they're right," muttered Hagrid darkly. "Awful things goin' on out there these days."
"What sort of things?" Harry prompted, curious to know more. Hagrid had never told them what he had spent the summer doing on Dumbledore's orders, and apart from reports in The Daily Prophet they were strangely cut off from what was happening outside the school grounds.
"Dumbledore's workin' on it," Hagrid said evasively from beneath his black beetled brows. "Great man, Dumbledore."
Hagrid poured more tea into his bucket-sized cup, offered the scones round and changed the subject.
"Where're Ron and Hermione?"
"Well, the official reason they're not here is that they're writing essays," Harry said, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.
"But the real reason," Ginny added, eyes alight with fun, "is that a certain brother of mine is doing his level best to distract a particular Gryffindor prefect from her work. Now they've got us out the way, I would guess that they'll be spending a very pleasant afternoon. Together."
Harry and Ginny exchanged glances and burst out laughing.
"Ah, well. I was wonderin' when that was goin' to 'appen," Hagrid grinned at them through his bushy beard. "It's bin long enough comin'."
Darkness had fallen when they finally left Hagrid's hut after a very pleasant afternoon, Fang howling in protest at being separated from Ginny. The storm was worsening, rain now beating mercilessly down upon them as they struggled through the elements back to the castle. They staggered breathlessly into the empty entrance hall, water streaming from their cloaks, as wet as if they had just been swimming. Harry, seeing Ginny's dishevelled appearance, burst out laughing.
"Nice look," he teased, lifting a sodden strand of her hair.
"You're one to talk," she laughed, looking up at him. "You should see what you look like."
Their eyes suddenly fused together, and Harry felt a peculiar pounding in his chest, his breathing shallow and unsteady. He reached out for her, and pulling her gently into his arms, looking all the while into the liquid brown of her eyes.
"Ginny," he murmured softly.
A voice echoed up a corridor and could be heard distinctly in the entrance hall, making Harry shiver and look away from her.
"What is it?" she asked, holding him closely.
"That voice," he said hoarsely. "It's the one from my dream Ginny." He forced himself into action. He had to find out who that voice belonged to. "Come on!"
Grabbing hold of Ginny's hand, he ran down the corridor after the sound, down dark underground passageways illuminated by torches flaming on the walls, following the reverberating tones. Twisting and turning round the stone corridors they continued, until finally they head a door slamming ahead of them. Creeping silently up to the wooden door, they peered through the half-light at the brass nameplate.
"No," breathed Harry. "How can it be him?"