Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews last chapter - I am so glad you're enjoying this as much as I am!
This is the last real chapter, but there is an epilogue still to come in order to tie up a few loose ends, and to finish off the school year in the traditional JKR way!
Please review for me if you're reading, even if it's just to say 'hello!'
***
"Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero."
(Seize the present day, trusting the morrow as little as may be)
Horace
Seize the Day
"I'm going up to see Ginny after breakfast," Harry said to Ron a couple of Saturdays later, as he poured himself an orange juice. "Are you coming?"
"I wouldn't if I were you," Fred Weasley's amused voice floated down the table towards them. "We've just been there and she's in a foul mood. I think Madam Pomfrey's just about ready to assassinate her."
"That sounds about right," Ron grinned back at Harry whilst buttering his toast thickly. "That's my little sister for you."
"You can't blame her for being fed up," Hermione pointed out reasonably. "Being stuck in the hospital wing for so long is bound to drive anyone mad."
"True," Harry agreed wholeheartedly; his various incarcerations in the hospital wing had hardly been his favourite times either. "It doesn't help that Ginny's trying to escape at every opportunity. She's not strong enough to walk yet, so Madam Pomfrey caught her trying to levitate her way out yesterday."
"Patience is definitely not one of her virtues," Ron spluttered in a fit of laughter at his sister's exploits. He waved his toast meaningfully in Harry's direction. "Unless you count the five years she waited for you to notice her."
Harry felt himself turn scarlet, then he laughed at himself.
"Yeah, I suppose I was a bit slow on the uptake. Still, I'm going to make it up to her now. I thought I'd take some work up there and spend the day with her, and hopefully that'll keep her out of mischief for a while."
"I wouldn't bet on it," retorted Ron cheerfully.
"We'll follow you up in a little while, Harry," Hermione said softly.
She glanced over to Ron, who stretched across the table for her hand, and squeezed her fingers gently. An intimate smile played between the two of them. Harry saw it, and smiled to himself as he deliberately shifted his gaze down to his porridge and stirred it thoughtfully. Voldemort's actions had made a difference not just to his relationship with Ginny, but to them all, and there had been a far greater display of tenderness between Ron and Hermione throughout the past two weeks. Ron had revealed a very vulnerable part of him in his fear for his little sister's life, and Hermione had responded to this the only way she'd known how; caring less now about what others thought about their displays of affection, and more about Ron and what he was feeling. They needed the time alone together, just like he did with Ginny. There was a lot that needed to be worked through before any sort of equilibrium or normality could be restored.
Summer was only just beginning, light streaming in shafts of brilliance through the arching window half-way up the marble staircase, ensnaring glittering dust hovering within each beam. Harry bounded happily up the steps, his bag swinging from his shoulder. Ginny was recovering; slowly it was true, but she was definitely making progress. Her mind was as sharp as ever, but the curse had left her extremely weak physically and it was going to be a long haul for her to get back to full strength again.
Harry smiled wryly to himself. He would have never thought it possible, but he'd eventually come across someone who was a worse patient than he was. Couple that with a particularly well developed version of the Weasley stubborn streak, and it was hardly surprising that Madam Pomfrey was at the end of her tether with Ginny. He rounded the corner and pushed open the door to the hospital wing.
A small night-gowned figure with masses of coppery hair stood at the far end of the hospital wing, clutching the bed rail in a desperate attempt to steady herself. Harry could see the expression of grim determination on her face as she let go, and took a couple of wobbling steps unaided before her legs gave out and she collapsed in a heap of temper and frustration.
"I don't want to go to bed!" she yelled at him furiously, when he rescued her from the floor and carried her back towards the armchair in her corner of the ward.
"Who said anything about that?" he grinned wickedly down at her. "I think it's a little early in our relationship to be talking to me about going to bed." She giggled and wrapped her arms tightly round his neck, her anger swiftly evaporating. "And don't you dare get mad with me, Ginny Weasley, or I'll drop you."
"You wouldn't," she said, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
"That's playing dirty," he laughed, feeling the agonising tug at his heart strings she'd intended. He settled them both into the chair, Ginny curled up comfortably in his lap, and he relaxed feeling her there right beside him.
"Sorry," she whispered. "I just feel so…" She clenched her fists and looked straight at him. "So helpless I suppose. I hate this."
"I know you do," he replied. "I should have kept that charm going for longer to take more of the curse, then you wouldn't be going through all this."
"No you shouldn't, Harry," she said adamantly. "Hermione was right to stop it when she did. You had a blistering headache all last week as it was, and any longer would have done real damage to you. Things'll be back to normal soon enough."
"What's normal?" he laughed.
"Oh, I don't know," she looked impishly up at him. "Waging war against the most evil wizard the world has ever known, rescuing a damsel in distress from certain death. The average sort of day for Harry Potter!" He laughed with her, although the memories she'd conjured up were still painful; he had come so close to losing her.
"Do you ever think about the future, Gin?" he asked seriously, his voice muffled in her hair.
"Yes," she confessed, shifting slightly and running her fingers gently down his cheek, making him shiver with pleasure. "I think about what Voldemort said to you too. He's waiting for a time to kill you, and we don't know when or why."
"I'll understand if you don't want that sort of a future with me," he said, nervously awaiting her reply. "You're going to get badly hurt by it, whatever happens."
"Harry," she said softly, lifting his gaze to her own. "I'll be worried anyway. I know why you feel like this, and how terrifying it must have been. I've loved you for such a long time, and I've had to watch all sorts of awful things happen to you, like when you fell fifty feet from your broomstick. I saw you after the third task last year, not knowing if you were alive or dead, and I couldn't even come up here to find out. You were Ron's friend, not mine, you see."
"Gin, I'm so sorry," he whispered guiltily, kissing her fingers. "I had no idea."
"It doesn't matter," she said, shaking her head decisively. "Harry, I want to be with you. Whatever the future holds, I want to face it with you. Unless you don't want me to…" Her voice wavered a little and Harry hastened to reassure her.
"I want that more than anything," he said, holding her firmly in his arms. "I just don't want you to go through anything like that with Voldemort again. Watching you being hit by those curses because of me, because I love you…" He broke off, unable to continue as his mind relived the horrors.
"I'd do it all again for you," she whispered, reaching up to kiss him. "We can't live looking at what's going to happen some day. We have to take each day as it comes and live for the moment, for now at least. No one knows what tomorrow holds, but we have each other right here, right now and that's enough for me."
***
The exams grew ever closer, and Harry was frantic with everything he had to fit into his day; the lessons, piles of homework and revision, extra Quidditch practices and visiting Ginny in the hospital wing. Ginny had been absolutely livid when she'd discovered they'd forfeited the match against Slytherin because of her, but as Ron had pointed out, they'd all been so worried the chances of concentrating on that particular game were slim to say the least, and there was no way their Seeker would have been allowed out of Madam Pomfrey's watchful gaze only a couple of days after such a near brush with death. They simply had to win their final match against Hufflepuff to claim victory of the House Cup this year, but the points difference they needed was an alarmingly large one.
Ginny took pity on Harry, and insisted that at the very least he had to combine his school work with visiting her.
"Honestly Harry, I'm bored stiff," she sighed, lying obediently back on her pillows. "Would you mind teaching me some new stuff as part of your revision? If you know it well enough to show me, you'll know it well enough to pass your O.W.L.s with it."
They began with Transfiguration, and Harry was surprised, both at how much he appeared to know and how much he learned during their hours together. Ginny was an adept pupil who grasped new ideas extremely quickly, and he was kept on his toes by answering her questions. She was delighted with the concept of personal transfiguration, and, much to Harry's amusement and Madam Pomfrey's horror, began to transfigure herself into all sorts of objects to escape detection. She borrowed his book, and by his next visit had even mastered some of the work from the sixth year. He looked frantically around for her, wondering if she had turned into bedroom slippers again. His eye was caught by a peace lily plant perched on her bedside table, leaves trembling with what could have only been Ginny's irrepressible giggles. He tickled the leaves gently with his fingers and she instantly sprang back into her normal shape, knocking a nearby jug of water onto the floor.
"You're feeling better," he grinned at her, helping her down from the cabinet top.
"How did you guess?" she replied, eyes twinkling up at him as he slid his arm round her for support.
"Well, finding you up there for a start," Harry teased her, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ears. "You couldn't have done that a week ago."
"I suppose not," she sighed, glancing out of the window gloomily. "It's still driving me mad though, being cooped up in here on a glorious day like this."
"How would you feel about escaping outside for a couple of hours?" Harry asked mischievously.
"I'd love it!" Her face lit up with enthusiasm for a flicker of a second, and then it fell again. "It's not very likely though, is it?" she added peevishly.
"Isn't it?" Harry could barely keep the laughter out of his voice.
"You know very well it's not," she snapped. Then she paused and looked curiously up at him. "Harry Potter," she said sternly. "What do you know that I don't?"
"Get some clothes on," he chuckled. "I've spent ages this morning wheedling Madam Pomfrey round to thinking that some fresh air and sunshine will be good for you. I think we need to get out of here quickly before she changes her mind."
"You're wonderful!" Ginny threw her arms round him and hugged him with all of her might.
"Give me a yell when you're ready," he said, blushing madly and retreating to the other side of the screen.
Ginny was leaning heavily on his arm by the time they made it down to the entrance hall, and was trembling with the effort. Her enthusiasm was not curtailed in the slightest, as this was first time in six weeks that she'd been outside the confines of the hospital wing and wild hippogriffs wouldn't have dragged her back. Harry guided her gently across the lawns to the spot where Ron and Hermione were sprawled, propping themselves on their elbows to revise from their text books and enjoy the sunshine.
"Look who I've got," Harry grinned, making Ron and Hermione glance up quickly.
"Ginny!" Ron leapt to his feet and helped her to sit down, anxiety plastered all over her face. "Should you be out here?"
"Don't fuss, or you'll spoil it," she growled at him. "I'm absolutely fine, and believe me, it feels good to be outside."
Harry smiled, and idly lay back on the grass enjoying the sensation of the warm summer sun pulsating down on him. He tucked his hands behind his head and stretched luxuriously, squinting up into the bright blueness of the sky. The lightest of breezes drifted over him, and he could sense Ginny right there beside him. This was how it should be. This was perfect.
A book landed heavily on his stomach causing him to yelp.
"We're revising History of Magic," Hermione explained firmly. "We've got the exam next week, so you can't afford the time off now, Harry."
Harry rolled over onto his stomach, to protect it from further attack, pushed his glasses up his nose and pulled a face at Ginny, making her giggle.
"What are you up to," he sighed, opening the volume and leafing through the pages.
"It's that blasted Urn the Norn thing again," Ron muttered darkly. "If that comes up on the exam I'm done for."
"Just concentrate," Hermione sighed in exasperation. "If you'd only listened in the lesson in the first place you wouldn't be having the trouble now!"
"Hermione," he protested in absolute outrage. "Have you any idea how difficult it is to stay awake in those lessons? And besides, I seem to remember I had other things on my mind that day. You, for example." He grinned meaningfully at her, making her blush.
"The Norms are Scandinavian rulers of the fates. They have had a massive impact on the history of the place, especially in the third and fourth centuries. There are three of them; Urd, Verdandi and Skuld, and
They spent a very pleasant afternoon on the castle lawns, chatting as they steadily worked their way through their notes and text books. Ginny's mood had improved significantly, and Harry smiled as he watched her, her hair dancing lightly in the soft summer breeze as if ruffled by invisible hands. She relaxed beside him, talking eagerly to Colin Creevey and her other friends who drifted their way. Fred and George spotted her, and their eyes lit up with mischief, as they hurried across the grounds.
"You managed to escape then?" George chuckled.
"Oh we've really, really missed you, Gin!" Fred added, a twinkle in his eye.
"I'm sure you survived," Ginny retorted dryly.
"Things just haven't been the same without you," George said in a very melancholic manner.
"We didn't realise what a massive impact you had on our lives until these past six weeks without you," Fred proclaimed dramatically.
"Yeah. I mean, we've got up every morning and found we had socks," George said in total astonishment. "I can't imagine how that could have happened." Ron sniggered appreciatively in the background.
"So just to show our total appreciation for our little sister…" Fred began.
"…we have a little present for you," George rounded the sentence off and they grinned wickedly at her.
"I know what your presents are like," Ginny started to object, but before she had a chance to continue, they pointed their wands at the castle and cast a spell completely in unison.
"Accio talaris totalis!"
Harry glanced curiously at Ron. It was some form of summoning spell, but quite what they could be summoning for her, he simply couldn't work out. Then he heard a series of shrieks and when he saw what was causing the chaos he began to laugh uncontrollably. Every single pair of socks within the confines of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were flying directly at them through the lazy afternoon sunshine. Socks of all different shapes, colours and sizes, soared through the air as easily and gracefully as birds. They fluttered and swooped as they flew, steadily covering the lawn and half-burying them. A flood of students cascaded outside, watching the spectacle in amazement. Ginny caught sight of Ron and squealed with laughter, entirely incapable of speech. Harry followed where her finger was pointing, and his own hysteria increased.
"Nice look, Ron," he choked, seeing his friend's hair adorned with a rather fetching slinky black stocking. Hermione struggled though the ever increasing mound of socks, tears rolling down her face and pulled it off him.
"Ron Weasley!" she giggled, trying to sound outraged with him, but failing dismally. "I never thought I'd catch you wearing stockings." He leapt at her, and tickled her mercilessly, rapidly disappearing from sight under the deluge of balled up socks.
"And what exactly is going on here?" Professor McGonagall's crispest tones cut across the mirth, sobering them slightly. Harry pulled Ginny towards him, woollen missiles still falling heavily from the sky on them. One pair of star covered ones bounced wildly off the ground and smacked Harry in the nose, causing Ginny to collapse in hysterical giggles again.
"Enough!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "Finite incantem."
The storm of socks ceased instantly, although the laughter ensued for quite some time. Steely eyes surveyed the scene through her severe spectacles, and Harry was convinced he saw her lips twitch just for a second. "Who is responsible?" she asked.
"Us," Fred admitted sheepishly, nodding towards George.
"My office please. Both of you. Now!" she instructed them curtly.
They trudged off slowly up towards the castle, through the mountains of socks, shrugging with resignation.
"Please Professor," Ginny said, hiccuping with giggles and tears streaming down her cheeks. "They were doing it to cheer me up; it's probably as much my fault as theirs."
"They performed the spell, Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagall stated, smiling gently at her. "They must take the consequences." She raised her voice and spoke to the assembled throng of students. "I suggest everyone collects their own possessions as quickly and as sensibly as they can." She stooped and retrieved some fetching tartan socks of her own before heading to her room to deal with the miscreants from Gryffindor.
Harry watched the staff and students sifting through the piles on the lawn, and clutched Ginny tightly with hilarity when he saw Snape disapprovingly stroll to an area nearby to rescue, and instantly conceal, some of his black socks which appeared to be covered in attractive little pink hearts.
"Wonder who gave him those," he muttered in Ginny's ear. She choked back her giggles, as she handed a pair of orange floral ones up to Professor Sprout.
A high-pitched voice could be heard soaring over the grounds:
"Harry Potter, Sir! They has got Dobby's socks…"
"C'mon," Harry grinned at her. "Let's get out of here."
Abandoning their own socks, Harry helped Ginny to her feet, and they slowly walked back. Harry shot her a sideways glance; her eyes were bright with laughter, but it was obvious that she was completely exhausted. She was shaking badly with the simple effort of putting one foot in front of the other.
"Ginny," he began, knowing she was going to yell at him for being over-protective.
"I'll manage," she said with real determination. "It's just up a few floors and along the corridor." She suddenly clutched at his arm, and he caught her, sitting her down swiftly at the foot of the marble staircase.
"I know you can manage," he said gently, crouching beside her. "But you don't have to."
"I'll do it," she said grimly.
"OK," he agreed, wrestling his fears for her safety into submission. He had to let her make her own decisions if this relationship was going to work. "Just take it steadily, Ginny, otherwise there's no way Madam Pomfrey'll let me borrow you again."
She looked up at him in surprise with her fluid chocolate-brown eyes, and Harry could see a tempest of conflict storming within her.
"You know," she said quietly. "No one has ever just let me do something like this before. I've always had to fight to do what I want to. You've seen what it's like with my brothers."
"I'm worried about you trying this," Harry admitted honestly. "But this is your decision, not mine."
"Oh Harry!" her eyes shone with tears, which she hastily blinked away. There was a long pause as her eyes searched his. "Am I too heavy to carry up there?" she whispered at last, smiling slightly at him. He shook his head, and with her consent, lifted her gently in his arms.
"It's safer than me trying to magic you up there," he chuckled as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"It's been a wonderful afternoon," she giggled when they reached the hospital wing, his arms now aching so badly that they felt as if they were about to fall off. "Thank you."
"Yeah," he laughed with her. "You can learn a lot about people from their socks, I reckon. I never knew Dean had a pair with 'sex god' printed on them."
"And who did that stocking belong to?" Ginny said with relish.
"One of the sixth or seventh year girls?" Harry hazarded a guess.
"No! Come on Harry! We can do better than that," Ginny said with impish mischief all over her face as Harry put her down on her bed. "How about… Malfoy?"
He exploded in laughter at the outrageous thought, the noise bringing Madam Pomfrey swiftly out of her office, accompanied by Dumbledore.
"It sounds like you were right Potter. It has done her a lot of good," Madam Pomfrey said, looking at Ginny's happy face.
"Well, it's all to do with socks, you see, Poppy," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling merrily at them. "I always say, and I'm sure Ginny will agree with me, whatever is going to happen in the world, one can never have too many socks."