There was a good view from here. Harry had grown up in the Muggle world; and had found a home in the Wizarding one; but he couldn't help but wonder when he was here, if there was another, completely different world, where humans weren't significant at all. From here, all you could see was lake, tree, and lots of sky.

It was just at the edge of the Forbidden Forest; a group of large rocks, shielded by trees from the view of the castle. It was nice. It was a good place to be alone, or forget that anyone, including yourself, existed.

It must work both ways, too, which was why Harry hadn't mentioned it to anyone. Part of the sense of solidarity he felt here probably stemmed from the fact that nobody knew he was here. He knew that any other place probably would have done just as well.

The sun had set now, and the clouds were pink, darkened with the approaching evening's greyish blue. It occurred to Harry vaguely that he must have missed dinner, and Ron and Hermione would be worrying; probably sitting in Gryffindor Tower by the fire. Whenever they asked him where he'd been, Harry always simply said he'd gone for a walk. Then he'd pretend not to notice them exchanging glances.

He began to make his way back to the castle, across the sweeping lawn, back to his common room.

"Hey, Potter!" Standing outside Gryffindor Tower, ready to give the Fat Lady the password, Harry's attention was hailed by a passing Gryffindor Prefect. "Professor McGonagall wants to see you in her office tomorrow morning," the Prefect said, shortly.

"Well? I haven't got all night!" called the Fat Lady snappishly, from inside her portrait. The Prefect had already walked away.

Harry couldn't help feeling his stomach drop as he saw a grave looking Professor Dumbledore standing in the office alongside Professor McGonagall.

"Good morning, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, as briskly as usual. "Sit down, please, while we wait for Miss. Weasley."

Ginny? Thought Harry. Concern was beginning to claw up his spine in spite of himself.

"Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore - nothing's happened, has it?" he asked quickly, still standing. Having asked it, he realised what a stupid question it'd been to ask, knowing that Voldemort had risen once again and the world was already beginning to see the effects of it. But he needed to hear the answer all the same.

"No, Harry. We -" Professor Dumbledore only got this far before the door of the office clicked open, and Ginny Weasley entered hesitantly.

"Sit down, Miss. Weasley," said Dumbledore kindly. Harry too sat down as Ginny took the chair indicated her, exchanging a nervous glance with him as she did so.

"We have not called you in here to report bad news," continued Dumbledore, swiftly. "Getting straight to the point, if you'll excuse me, the reason is this: Professor McGonagall and I have a favour to ask of the two of you, which I would much rather prefer not to have to ask. However, thus it is, and so..."

"You will not have forgotten that, three years ago, the two of you were involved in a confrontation with Lord Voldemort - or, Tom Riddle, as he called his former self," said Dumbledore, solemnly.

Professor McGonagall spoke next. "What we're asking you to do, Potter, Weasley, is to try and think back to that time and recall, if you are able, any information that you think may be able to help us now," she said. Her usual brisk, no-nonsense expression and tone appeared to waver for a moment, as she added,

"You should know that what we are asking of you is also on behalf of all the wizards and witches who are trying very hard to find ways to work against Lord Voldemort and are attempting to reverse the damage which is already being imparted at his hands."

"Any detail of behaviour, or any words, which you can recall which might give us some clue as to his current whereabouts or the way in which he intends to work, would be extremely useful to us," Dumbledore continued. "I must stress, once again, how much I wish I did not have to ask you to do this; but you are young adults now, and I am not afraid to ask you to rise to any difficult or unpleasant task that needs to be performed." This said, Dumbledore turned to Ginny.

"Miss. Weasley, I understand that you were communicating with Tom Riddle for a period of time, and you must know that this is what makes anything you can tell us invaluable," he said.

"As for you, Harry, I have already asked much of you; and I know that this will not be the last thing. I took the liberty of using an Indelibus charm when you accounted for me your encounter with Voldemort last term - this recorded your voice, so to speak. But when you confronted Voldemort three years ago as the ghost of his younger self, I believe his actions and words as a young man may have unwittingly betrayed some clue..."

"I thank you both," said Dumbledore, finally.

Harry and Ginny stood up. This had been unexpected, and Harry, though relieved it had not been bad news, found he was trembling slightly. He'd known the war had started, of course he'd known, but it was the first time Dumbledore had spoken of it like this. During the summer, they'd been living off little bits of information from Mr. Weasley, at the Ministry, and Daily Prophet headlines. Being asked to do something to help fight the war against Voldemort, however small it seemed - well, it made it real.

Harry found himself outside the office, facing Ginny, who looked as though she felt very much like he did.

"Come for a walk?" he asked her. She nodded. They didn't speak again until, having wound down stairs, and stepped up them, walked lengths of corridors, and through doors in silence; they were outside.

It was chilly outside, but Harry doubted that was the reason Ginny looked so pale.

"I suppose - I suppose it could've been worse," she said, very quietly, as the two of them walked briskly towards nowhere. Looking at her, Harry was suddenly reminded of the moment that he'd seen her lying in the Chamber of Secrets, out cold, looking small and very, very pale.

"It was horrible," he said, half to himself, unconsciously.

"Yes, it was." Even quieter. Harry looked at Ginny quickly. When she looked back at him, Harry got the impression at that moment of someone very young, and vulnerable, and strong at the same time. And she understood. "I - thank you, Harry. Thank you for coming to find me that day, and - killing him."

Harry felt a shiver run through him. For a moment he had no idea what to say. "I - er - well, it was only fair, after you defended me that time in Flourish and Blotts," he said, finally, trying to lighten the mood, and take the conversation a little further away from being thanked for saving her life. "Remember, with Malfoy?"

The look on her face seemed to say "how could I forget?" and for a moment Harry wasn't sure he'd helped very much. But then a small smile lifted at the corners of her mouth.

"And I'll never forget dad, in that brawl!" she said. "I don't think I'd ever seen him punch anyone before."

"Your dad was great," said Harry, grinning as the memory came back. "Lucius Malfoy had a black eye..."

"Yeah, from a falling book," Ginny finished. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"And then that must have been when he put the diary inside my book," said Ginny, bluntly, as they stopped laughing. "Slimy creep. I was so stupid..."

She said it without a trace of self-pity, sounding as if she reproached herself for it instead. Neither of them spoke for a moment, as they continued to walk (not so briskly now).

"Ginny - no-one blames you for it, you know that, don't you?" said Harry. But, having said it, he knew better than anyone that there was no use of that if you blamed yourself anyway.

"Yeah. Everyone was great. Thanks," said Ginny. "I heard you had quite a year of it yourself, what with being accused of being Heir of Slytherin and all," she added, attempting a grin.

"Oh, well, you know me. Every year at Hogwarts is 'quite a year'," said Harry, without thinking.

"Yes, that's true," said Ginny, looking at him. The expression in her eyes surprised, almost startled Harry: it was quiet, and admiring, and also a little sad, almost for his sake; in spite of himself, Harry found the glance refreshing.

"Well, I think I'll go and find the common room fire," said Ginny, puffing out and making a cloud of breath in still autumn air. "Coming?" she asked him.

Harry shook his head, thinking that he'd rather be outside; the chilly air was bracing and appealing. "No. I'll be in, in a minute," he said.

"What, going to your secret hideout are you?" said Ginny in jest, then immediately clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh, Harry - I really didn't mean...I heard Ron and Hermione talking, and it just sounded to me like you..." she gabbled, quickly.

Harry had been standing in surprise. "It's okay," he said finally. "You're not so wrong, anyhow," he added. Ginny was still looking scandalised with herself.

"Oh - well - I'll go in now, and you will go - to somewhere which is completely none of my business, so I'll...see you later," she said, then turned and began to walk quickly in the direction of the castle.

Harry turned, a little bemused, and sought his place by the rocks. The air was refreshing, the sky was blue; but somehow he didn't feel as satisfied here now as he usually did.

*

It looked like it might snow; the clouds were that kind of rolling grey, and the air, as well as the grass underfoot, had that frosty bite. Ginny hoped it might, she loved to see it snowing. However, her thoughts could not be entirely enthusiastic about the possibilities of the weather as she tramped across the Hogwarts grounds.

That morning, Harry had asked her to join him for a walk. Well, he hadn't worded it quite like that (he'd actually said, "Want to tramp around for a bit after breakfast?") and anyway, walks with Harry were not that much of an unusual occurrence now. This would be the second this week, and the fourth this month (Ginny cursed herself for knowing the exact number). At first, they had mainly been to discuss Dumbledore's favour. Then, it really had been a case of "Why, Harry, what a surprise to see you here..." with hopefully not too much blushing and stammering. But for some reason, it felt a bit special today. Ginny knew that if she continued in that vein of thought for too much longer, there was going to be an inevitable disappointment (Pride comes before a fall, and she had learned in four years). Then again, why had he asked her to meet him by the statue in the flower garden?

Ginny tucked her scarf more firmly round her neck as she stood by the statue. There was no sign of Harry, and she suddenly wished she'd had the foresight to be late herself. She and Harry were - well, pretty much friends now, but that didn't mean she could stop herself from going round beaming all morning, after he'd asked her if she'd wanted to go for a walk. Ginny wondered if it was always going to be like this, if they could ever really be friends because it was always going to mean her being idiotic around him; or whether she could learn to act purely as a friend.

She thought she was learning. After all, maybe she hadn't realised how much Harry didn't know about the Riddle incident, or she hadn't realised how much she needed to talk about it; in any case, she'd found herself telling him everything about it (well, most things). And he'd told her his part of it and the parts she couldn't really remember. Because there was that thing, that if you told people all about yourself, they started to tell you little back. So Harry had talked a bit, too; a little about Voldemort, and also just about things like Quidditch, and - and his Muggle life.

Then he'd asked her about her family. So Ginny had told him; describing eagerly the various pleasant and not so pleasant family habits, telling him more about her older brothers, and her dad's fascination with muggle things.

"What's it like being the youngest?" Harry had said. Ginny had answered without thinking about it.

"Sometimes it's gets a bit much. Like, I know Ron says he can't do anything that hasn't already been done by Bill, or Charlie, Percy or the twins - but it's different for me, because sometimes it's like - it's like they don't expect me to do anything because I'm the youngest. They'll always just see me as their baby. I mean, I really love them, but sometimes, like when the house is full and everyone's being annoying, I wish I could just be on my own for a bit."

Harry had seemed very thoughtful at this, and Ginny at once had felt a huge pang, and felt like an ungrateful brat. How could she have said something like that? Harry hadn't mentioned it - he'd actually changed the subject - but she was sure tha he thought she was spoilt beyond words.

Perhaps Harry had decided not to come after all, Ginny thought, feeling her heart drop several notches at only the thought of it. But there was no sign of him still. She sat down on the base of the statue heavily, then stood up again immediately; aware she'd just sat on something.

A sugarquill. Whoever would leave a sugarquill here? Ginny thought, feeling a stab of annoyance that had nothing to do with the sweet. What she saw next, however, made her open her eyes wide.

There was another sugarquill, lying a few metres away from her. Ginny looked again. The sugarquill she had almost sat on actually pointed to second one, which was lying on the path.

"Oh, Harry, you didn't..." Ginny breathed, and felt her heart beat faster as she walked to the second sugarquill, stooping to look at it as though to check it was real. She couldn't stop herself from whipping her head around quickly to look to see if there was...

There was. Another one. Balanced on a nearby bench, and it was the most beautiful thing Ginny had ever seen. It one pointed to yet another, placed on top of a hedge.

Her heart now racing, Ginny followed the trail marked out sugarquills. She blanched slightly when she saw she was being lead towards the Forbidden Forest, and it occurred to her that this might be some sick joke, planned by Malfoy and whatever his troll-like cronies were called. She almost stopped, remembering her father's words about not trusting anything which didn't show you its brain; but then she saw the next sugarquill - it was leading around the forest, and not into it. Ginny reflected that this was the sort of thing that was going to get her killed one day; took hold of her wand in her pocket, and continued.

Round the Forest, past a few trees and in a little sort of clearing, Ginny found Harry, sitting on some large rocks, looking out at the lake. She took control of her throat.

"I found you," she managed, coherently. Harry turned and smiled at her.

"Does that mean you win the game, then?" he asked. Ginny nodded silently. She fervently hoped that she wasn't going to have to choose between crying and throwing herself at him, which were the two options foremost in her mind at the moment.

"That was not a nice trick," said Ginny, knowing full well that she had loved it. "Making me find you like that, in the freezing cold! Where are your manners, Mr. Potter?" she found herself saying, not entirely sure if she was joking or not.

By the looks of it, Harry wasn't sure either. Ginny smiled to reassure him, if not herself that she had been.

"Nice view, isn't it?" said Harry, gesturing the landscape. The sky was grey, the lake nearly black it was so dark, and the trees were leave-less, starved, stretching figures. But it was beautiful, Ginny realised. This sort of thing always was; and anyway, the place looked as if it would always have a good view.

"Yes," she said. Then, feeling quite brave: "This is where you come, then, when you want to be alone?" (She was not, ever again, going to use the term 'secret hideout').

"Yeah," said Harry. He seemed to want to answer the silent question hanging in the air. "I - er - thought you might like it. You know, you said that you sometimes wished you could be on your own for a bit, away from everyone? It's a good place for that."

Was he going red? Ginny tried not to focus on his face, instead concentrating on the view. "It's lovely," she said, honestly. "Really. Thanks. I think I'll be using it." Ginny doubted that she could ever express how much this gesture meant to her, so she stopped there, hoping her heart wouldn't burst trying. They continued to appreciate the view in silence for a minute. Then she said,

"Um, just one thing Harry: it's very cold." She looked at him a bit sheepishly, hardly believing what she was saying. Harry chuckled.

"Right. Yeah," he said. "Common room?"

"That would be nice," agreed Ginny. They began to walk back to the castle - the fourth walk this month.

Just as they started to walk, it began to snow.

*


A/N Thank you for reading! Please review.