At half past noon, three days after the Quidditch Final, Harry sat in the kitchen of the Burrow. The Weasley children were out in the orchard, playing a lively quidditch scrimmage. Normally, Harry would've been out there with them, but he was waiting for Dumbledore's arrival.

Molly hummed a tune as she busied herself with the lunch dishes. He offered to help, but she would hear nothing of it. The older woman had spent the last few days cleaning almost entirely without magic. After the violence at the World Cup, Harry thought she was doing it as therapy.

Harry idly scratched at Sirius's head. Taking a leaf out of Pettigrew's book, the wanted criminal was staying with the Weasleys as Padfoot, for the time being, while trying to set to rights his own family home. After Dumbledore explained the situation anyway. It did take a bit of convincing that he really was innocent. The animagus no longer looked like a stray dog, flea ridden with the mange. Months of comfort at the Weasleys had his coat looking lustrous. As he became a healthier human, he became a healthier dog as well.

As if thinking of the man summoned him, the fireplace erupted in emerald fire. The revered headmaster stepped casually into the room, brushing a stray bit of soot from his sleeve. Even after over fifteen years knowing the man, Albus' appearance still surprised Harry.

Magic really is an amazing thing. Dumbledore didn't look nearly 113 years old. Most muggles would think him no more than his late wore a grey waist coat and slacks. The shirt underneath was a bright red. In recent years, his once auburn became peppered with strands of silver-grey both on his head and in his beard. He wore half-moon spectacles, though Harry doubted the man's vision was failing him in any way.

Sparkling blue eyes roamed around the quaint home appreciatively before landing on him, "Harry, I'm glad you're well. You had quite the night at the Final from everything I've heard."

Molly dried her hands on her apron, and went to hug the headmaster, "So good to see you, Albus. Can I get you anything? Tea? Biscuits?" She held him at arms-length.

"I never refuse a good cup of tea. And would you happen to have any of your delicious biscuit cake lying around. It is my favorite dear."

She let him go, and Dumbledore pulled a chair out across from Harry, "I do. Back in just a sec." Harry found it incredibly endearing that Molly always looked flattered when someone appreciated her cooking. And what is there not to appreciate? The woman is a wonderful cook and baker.

"So, Harry," Dumbledore's attention rested solely on the young Potter now, "tell me everything that happened."

The story fell from his lips easily enough until he reached the events in the stadium. Molly placed a tray on the table with a tea kettle and biscuit cake. Dumbledore waved a hand, and it began serving itself. Very few people were capable of such casual displays of wandless magic, "Molly, I hate to impose in your own home, but do you think Harry and I might have some privacy for the rest of our chat."

The request brought her up short. She looked between the two of them, concern flashing in her eyes. Harry appreciated that she wanted to be there for him but knew there were things that would be best served staying between him and the headmaster. He wasn't sure how the older man knew that though. Whatever the case, he gave a reassuring nod to the caring woman.

Molly sighed, "Of course. There are some things I need to do in the garden. Take as long as you need."

"I won't impose for too long," Dumbledore assured her. "Things are very busy at the Ministry, and a good deal of it demands my attention."

"Oh, I understand," she agreed, placing her apron on the countertop. "Arthur's leaving early and getting home late. That wonderful man's being run ragged, and he said it's even worse for the aurors."

"Alas, it's been quite the hectic few days for everyone. And Arthur's department isn't properly manned to begin with. Things should return to normal soon." Dumbledore told her sympathetically. Nodding, she left for the garden.

"Such a kind woman," Dumbledore commented idly, taking a bite of the biscuit cake. "And one of the finest bakers I've had the pleasure of meeting in my many years."

Harry agreed wholeheartedly but couldn't resist his curiosity, "What's happening at the Ministry?" he questioned. Arthur was tight-lipped on the situation, not that he'd been at the Burrow long enough to explain things properly anyway.

He took a sip of his tea, "Many things, a major event is taking place at Hogwarts this year and the security of it has been called into question with the riots at the World Cup."

"What event?"

"One you'll find out about at the start of the school year. Just like most everyone else." He chuckled at Harry's scowl, "The greater issue at the Ministry comes is because of the apprehended Death Eaters from the rioting."

"How many were there?"

"Seven. But four were of particular significance. Walden McNair you might remember as Buckbeak's would-be executioner. But more than that, three members of the Wizengamot: Geoffrey Goyle, Vincent Crabbe Sr., and Lucius Malfoy." Dumbledore explained, noting Harry's lack of surprise at the news.

"Couldn't happen to a nicer bunch of people."

"I agree, but the minister is predictably panicked. And with good reason."

"Really? The dolt must be terribly concerned he won't have his pockets lined by Malfoy gold to pass ridiculous legislation anymore. What a horrible change to the status quo."

Dumbledore chuckled at Harry's glibness, "I'm sure that's part of what has him worried. But he's far more concerned he's going to find himself with his own cell in Azkaban."

"It's that bad? They're not going to weasel their way out of this like they did at the end of the war?"

"No. Regardless of their position, they were participating in terrorist acts that harmed foreign nationals. The magical leaders of every participating country, along with the ICW, are hounding the Ministry to see justice done…" He gave Harry a small smile, "and between Amelia Bones and I, we have every intention of providing it." Harry believed him. Those are two people I wouldn't want against me, especially if they have me dead to rights.

"I hope they keep the dementors company for the rest of their miserable lives." Harry spat out. He had no remorse for any of the vile assholes.

"I agree with you. Many people accuse me of being too kindhearted. That I give second chances where none are deserved. But even I understand when someone is beyond redemption. Lucius has proven time and time again the sort of man he wants to be, and we're better off without his influence poisoning everything it touches." Dumbledore had a faraway look for just a moment, thinking on something long in his past. He shook himself from the memory, "Anyway, I'm curious about your involvement in the whole ordeal. Amelia told me your name came up during the interrogation."

"Yeah, of course, the rest of the story." Harry ran a hand through his hair, "I reached the stadium without really meaning to. I figured it would be safe inside, but I found Malfoy and his cronies with two unconscious victims."

"Victims?"

"Two of the Bulgarian mascots," Albus hummed and gestured for him to continue. "I managed to save them."

"Impressive, I know your dueling skills are well above-average for your age, but Lucius wasn't among Tom's most trusted followers solely because of his wealth."

"I got lucky," Harry told him honestly. "He hit me with the Torture Curse, but I managed to wake one of the Veela and his back was turned, so..."

"That does explain the burn marks," His eyes sparkled in amusement. "Given you were, in fact, involved, you'll likely be called to testify. Amelia will be in touch with you soon."

"If it helps put the arsehole behind in Azkaban, I'll do it in a heartbeat."

"Very good." Albus turned his attention to Sirius, "Amelia's been very thorough in her investigation. She's still furious with Cornelius' mishandling of things at the end of last term, and the threats he used to keep her in line. Questions have been answered under Veritiserum that indicate your innocence. You'll be getting a fair trial as soon as the business with Malfoy is taken care of." With every word, the massive black dog wagged its tail harder.

Dumbledore tried to reason with the minister after the events at the end of the previous year, even tried to push for a new trial in the Wizengamot. But between Fudge and Malfoy, he failed. Even the Chief Warlock had limits. And Fudge threatened to remove him and Amelia altogether if they didn't let it go. Sirius couldn't even bring himself to try convincing Dumbledore after that.

"That's fantastic news!"

"Yes, it'll be good to see that miscarriage of justice corrected." He made to rise, "Now, much as I enjoy your company, there are things that need to be done."

"Headmaster," The older wizard stopped, "there is something else you should know."

"Oh, what is that?"

"Lucius, he didn't just attack the Veela. He forced one of them to take a Lust Potion." Dumbledore's mood darkened at that news. "But it's been handled."

"How?"

"Me…" He answered simply, having no desire to go into the full details of that night.

Those eyes were twinkling again, "You've always been an exceptional young man and I'm sure she was very grateful for your heroics. I imagine it was quite the horrible hardship you faced."

Harry couldn't remember the headmaster ever taking the mickey out him before, "Uh anyway… that isn't what you really need to know. She entwined her magic with mine and it… burned away… the piece of Tom's soul that resided in my scar."

As the last word left his mouth, Sirius changed in an instant and was standing over him. "You had what in your bloody scar?!"

Dumbledore ignored the outburst, "You're sure?"

"As sure as I can be. The pain was excruciating. And I don't have any reason to believe Anya would've lied to me."

"You'll allow me to check?" The headmaster questioned. At Harry's nod, the elder wizard pulled his wand from seemingly nowhere. Probably has a holster of his own.

"Would somebody like to explain what is going on?" Sirius looked about ready to start throwing spells if he didn't start getting some answers. Luckily, he still doesn't have a wand.

"Tom used a dark ritual to create multiple soul anchors, Horcruxes. They're what allowed him to survive that awful Halloween night." Dumbledore explained, stopping as he began to whisper a quiet incantation with his wand pointed directly above the faded lightning bolt scar. Where once it'd been a noticeable red blemish upon his brow, in the last three days it turned to a thin line, almost invisible unless viewed at the right angle and lighting.

"The professor's theory is that he intended to make another with my death. And that his soul was unstable as a result of that and his previous uses of the ritual. So, when the killing curse rebounded and destroyed his body, a piece of his soul fractured and found a home in the scar." Harry continued for the headmaster.

"And it's gone?"

Dumbledore straightened, wand disappearing wherever it came from, "Yes, there's no trace of his magic from what I can tell."

"Well thank Merlin for that," Sirius exclaimed. "I've only been back in your life for a few months and you're already trying to give me a sodding heart attack."

"Oh, stop complaining," Harry told his godfather, "I had every intention of telling you. But with the state you were in, I'm pretty sure it could've killed you."

Sirius made to argue, but stopped, thinking better of it. He rubbed irritably at the bridge of his nose, "You probably have a point."

Albus was looking quizzically at Harry, something clearly on his mind, "Can you still speak parseltongue?"

Harry blinked, gobsmacked. I hadn't considered that. Picturing a snake in his mind, he spoke, "You tell me?" He watched a shiver go down Sirius' spine, and smirked, "I guess I can."

"Interesting, I assumed that the ability came directly from Tom's soul. I thought it would disappear with its destruction," Dumbledore stroked at his neatly-trimmed beard, "Perhaps it resided within you long enough that it bled into your own magic. Or perhaps there are some hidden truths regarding one or both of your parents."

"Either way, I'm chuffed to still have it. There's no knowing when it might come in useful." He could think of one, very specific, application he was happy to still have it for, but neither man needed to know that.

"Have you performed any magic since it was removed?" Albus questioned.

"No."

"That's good. Last year, we discussed that the fragment behaved like a leach. That your own magic worked tirelessly to repel it." Harry remembered well, "With its removal, I believe you'll find your magic more responsive and potent. We'll work together to ensure you have control when you return for the new term."

"Brilliant." Harry smiled.

"And I'll be curious to see what it means for your… entwined magic… I believe you said…" He chuckled to himself, shaking his head, "It's always wonderful to have a reminder that there are many wonders of magic that I have no knowledge of whatsoever."

"What do you mean, Albus?" Sirius asked.

"Harry and I discussed dozens of potential solutions to his problem. Many of them ridiculous and bordering on the impossible."

"The worst one was definitely death," Harry interjected cheekily. The look on Sirius' face told him he didn't find it funny, "Hey, it didn't come to that."

"Yes," Dumbledore returned to the conversation at hand, "And never in our discussions did it occur to me that Veela magic might be a solution. It is something I'm sadly uneducated on."

"They keep their secrets closely guarded amongst their conclaves." Sirius reasoned.

"True, very true. But few people have studied magic as extensively as me," It wasn't a brag, jut a simple fact, "So, I do enjoy learning new things where I can, Perhaps, in future, we'll discuss the intricacies of the situation, Harry."

I'm definitely leaving some of the more intimate details out. "I'd have no problem with that."

Dumbledore clapped his hand, "Excellent, well I must be off. Harry, I'll see you no later than the beginning of term. Perhaps sooner, depending on the trial. Amelia will be in contact with the both of you."

Sirius patted the older wizard's shoulder, "Good luck with the Ministry, Albus. I admire your patience for it all."

Dumbledore chuckled, "People have admired me for lesser virtues." The man walked to the garden to bid his host goodbye before going to the fireplace and using the floo.

With the headmaster gone, there was silence between the two remaining men. Sirius looked like he was trying to keep from smiling when he finally spoke, "So... your magic is entwined with two Veela huh? You might've left that out when you told the story before."

"I left quite a lot out."

Sirius snickered, "I'm sure."

Harry chuckled, "You just found out that I had a piece of Voldemort's soul attached to my head, and you're curious about the night I had with two Veela?"

Sirius sobered at the reminder, "It's gone. There's nothing more I can do about it, except maybe kiss the woman responsible when I meet her."

"You might want to be careful doing that. I saw them hurling fireballs."

"I'll keep that in mind," Sirius told him, but then waggled his eyebrows, "Still…what exactly does it take to entwine your magic with a Veela?"

Harry grinned, "Use your imagination, old man." He's like a dog with a bone.

"I have to, regularly," Sirius whined.

"Actually, on second thought, don't. I never want you imagining anything that has to do with me, Orina or Anya." Sirius laughed, deep and honest. He clapped Harry on the shoulder.

"I can do that. But Orina and Anya, huh?" He was incessantly trying to take the piss, but Harry was having none of it.

"Yes, you'll probably meet them at some point."

"When I'm a free man," Sirius couldn't hide the longing in his voice, "I'm incredibly grateful for Molly and Arthur's hospitality, but I'll be happy getting out and about again."

"Gonna go chasing skirts as soon as you're free?"

"I can think of worse things to do after sixteen years in hell."

"With any luck, you won't have to wait much longer. Could even be before I go back to Hogwarts." Sirius smiled wistfully at the thought.

"I'll be able to come'n watch you play Quidditch properly this time."

"Brilliant."

"You won't be able to miss me. No one will. Everyone will know I'm there supporting my godson." He could see that mischievous glint in the older man's eye.

Harry shook his head, but couldn't stop the grin on his face, "Git."

"You'll love it."

Harry looked outside, he could see the Weasley children playing their own pick-up game out in the orchard, "Speaking of Quidditch, I think I'm going to grab my broom and join them."

"Go on, lad."

He climbed the Burrow's stairs, going up all the way to the top until he came to Ron's small room. Even two years after his first visit, he couldn't believe his friend managed to cover every bit of the room, from the wallpaper to his own bed, in Chudley orange. The Cannons' players waved to him from within their posters as he crossed the room to his cot. Normally, he'd leave the Firebolt down in the shed with the Weasleys' beaten old Cleansweeps, but he'd been polishing the racing broom the night before.

Grabbing it from underneath his cot, he made for the door when something stopped him in his tracks. An overwhelming wave of pleasure and arousal bloomed in his chest and shot down straight to his crotch. He hardened in his trousers instantly. And unfortunately, it quickly became painful against the against the unforgiving denim. He unsnapped and lowered them just to give himself some relief.

Shaking his head in frustration, he ran a hand along his covered length. This is the third bloody time in as many days. Since returning from Dartmoor, this seemed to be a new part of his life. At least it didn't happen at the dinner table this time. Just yesterday, he spent half an hour trying to make conversation with the Weasleys and Hermione when he wanted nothing more than to go and have a good wank. Ginny even asked if I was feeling alright I was so flushed. This was the first time it happened where he had an opportunity to… take the situation in hand.

His cock throbbed involuntarily, and he stifled a groan. Closing the door, he hurried to his cot and pulled his pants down. He wasn't proud that he was about to have a wank in his friend's room but needs must. His bulbous cockhead looked desperate for attention, leaking a copious amount of precum that had already stained his pants. Taking himself in hand, he started stroking slowly.

Closing his eyes, his mind went right to the night he spent with Anya and Orina. The way their tightness gripped so exquisitely to his cock, the way they moaned and squealed with each of his thrusts. Their incredible scent and flawless skin.

There was a creek at the top of the stairs and his hand stilled. Fuck, why didn't I lock the door? That probably would've caused even more questions though. The door opened as he tried to stuff his erection back into his trousers, "Harry, are you coming down to play? Bill says he's…" Standing there, her bright amber eyes wide in shock, was Ginny Weasley.

Her vibrant red hair was up in a loose ponytail. There was a light sheen of sweat on her face from playing quidditch. She wore a tight white tank top, that hugged at the curves of her breasts and her flat stomach and short-shorts that left most of her strong, creamy thighs on display. She unconsciously rubbed those lovely thighs together. Ginny was petite but fit and thick in all the right places from years of quidditch training. It'd take a moron not to realize she blossomed into a stunning young woman. Harry knew he could be oblivious at times, but he wasn't a moron.

She breathed heavily, whether from the situation or her exertions in the orchard he didn't know. He did know that it did glorious things to the perky mounds on her chest. Her pink tongue flicked out to wet her bowed lips. Her mouth opened and closed as though she wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

"Ginny…" Her eyes snapped to his, and a blush came to her freckled face, "I'll be right down. Do you think I could have a minute?"

Startled, she stammered, "Yeah of course…" But something brought her up short, "Or, do you maybe… need a hand?"

"Sorry?" That was something he certainly hadn't been expecting. Ginny was his friend, and he'd long since stopped thinking of her as nothing more than Ron's younger sister. We got closer after the Chamber incident after all. But he was under the impression she'd gotten over any feelings for him.

"Do you want some help?" She asked again, shy and unsure of herself.

"Are you sure?" He didn't see a reason to refuse a beautiful girl if she was offering.

Ginny smiled at him, "Harry you're my first crush, well sorta and my first proper one as well. You're the only boy I've ever really fancied… I've been wanting to do this for you for ages."

"How can I be your first and second crush?" He knew it wasn't important given the situation. His cock was still hard as steel resting against his stomach, but he couldn't stop the question.

Ginny walked toward him and laughed nervously, "The Boy Who Lived was my first crush, but he was nothing more than a legend." There was raw honesty in her voice, "Harry Potter on the other hand, he's very real and far better than any silly childhood stories. He's brave, and honest, and moody sometimes. Protective of his friends and loyal in a way most people only hope to manage. Doesn't hurt he's fit too with eyes that can stop a girl in her tracks."

She was standing right next to him now and reached down with one hand and gave him a tentative stroke. It was small and soft, and felt far better than his own could ever hope to.

The simple attention drew a hiss of pleasure from his lips, "Why… didn't you tell me?" He groaned as she rubbed lightly at his tip.

"My first year, we were friendly enough until the diary started doing its work," she shook her head, not wanting to go any further into that entire ordeal, "We were even closer last year, but you spent most of it worried that a homicidal maniac was coming for your life. You didn't need my feelings to worry about on top of it." Ginny gripped his shaft more firmly, making him buck his hips, "Now is that really what you want to talk about right now?"

He sighed as her hand, slick with his precum, slid up and down his shaft tentatively, "No."

Eagerly, the petite young woman dropped to her knees between his legs. Now at eye level with his jutting mahood, she stared at it adoringly, "It's even bigger than I imagined." She brought her other hand up to join her first and there was still room for at least one more. "It must be thicker than my wrist, I can barely wrap my hand around it." He could feel that her delicate fingers just touched at her middle and thumb.

Ginny rested his imposing length against her freckled cheek and took a deep breath of his musk, she whimpered low in her throat. "And it even smells fucking brilliant," she whispered reverently. Harry knew Ginny could be a proper lady when it suited her, but she didn't grow up with six older brothers without learning a thing her two.

"How often have you imagined it?" He asked leaning his head back as the pleasure kept growing. With every pass of her hands, Ginny's movements grew more confident. The tentative nervousness quickly being replaced with eager exploration.

Leaning in she kissed and licked at one of the prominent veins on the side of his manhood, lavishing it with her soft tongue. Pulling away, she left a line of moisture that she quickly worked into his cock with her jerking hands, "One of the best things about being the only girl in the family is I get my own room," she gave him a wicked smile. "So, every night, all summer long, I imagine it… and every night, when I'm lying in my dorm at Hogwarts. I play with my tight pussy thinking about you and this beautiful cock. I can't tell you how many times I've cum with your name on my lips."

"Fucking hell."

"That's right, Harry." Ginny leaned down and gave a light kiss to one of his bollocks. His cock throbbed and pulsed in her wonderful grasp, "Just think, three floors below you I've cum more times than I can count thinking about your big cock. How it would stretch me and fill me. About you coming down there hard and needy, and using my little body until you were satisfied."

She giggled as a small spurt of pre-cum shot from his cock and landed on her wrist. She stopped jerking and started rubbing her thumbs languidly against the most sensitive flesh of his prick just below the cockhead. The action coaxed another bead of precum out of him. She leaned in quickly, her pink tongue popping out to pick up the slippery liquid, "Hmm, I've behaved myself since Hermione got here though. Lucky for me she's going home tonight to spend the last of break with her parents."

Her hands started working in perfect tandem as they began gliding up and down his slippery shaft again. Schlick. Schlick. Schlick. He groaned as she added a little twist at the end of each pass, "So, tonight you can bet every galleon you have I'm gonna soak my fucking sheets right down to the mattress. Now that I know exactly how bloody perfect your cock is, there's no way I'll be able to stop myself."

Harry was panting trying to fight off his orgasm. Her small hands were doing a marvelous job of trying to pull the cum from his bollocks, but her naughty banter was making it an incredible struggle, "You're so hard, Harry. Stop holding back. I want you to cover every freckle on my pretty face." She reached down and pulled the straps of her tank top down, revealing her creamy, teardrop breasts to his greedy eyes, "You can cover these, too."

"Oh fuck." He bucked his hips off the cot and finally unloaded. His cock grew subtly in her hands as his balls contracted up to his body. His shaft shuddered, unleashing the first shot. It went straight up into the air, nearly touching the ceiling. Fucking Merlin.

More awestruck than Harry, Ginny watched captivated as it came back down to land on his abs. Blessedly, she kept stroking him, never stopping as she aimed the next salvo right at her face. She opened her mouth and waited expectantly for his seed. She moaned as the warm, creamy cum landed on her tastebuds one rope after another. Finally, as the volume finally started to lessen, she leaned close and aimed the last few shots of cum down toward her exposed chest. She kept pumping until the very last vestiges of his orgasm had gone.

When Harry came down from that fantastic high, he looked at Ginny to find her looking incredibly satisfied with herself. He smiled at her, noting he'd done exactly as she demanded and absolutely covered her, "Thanks."

Ginny beamed at him, "You're welcome. It was my pleasure." She licked her lips clean of a bit of his cum and moaned rapturously, like it was the single greatest treat in the world, "Merlin, you even taste delicious." What the bloody hell is going on? He smelled and tasted delicious for… no apparent reason. Must be something to do with my magic. And the entwinement maybe?

Then there was also the fact he was still rock hard. Ginny looked just as enthusiastic as his cock felt when she realized. She gave the tip a loving kiss before sighing disappointed, "Much as I'd love to keep going, my brothers will be wondering where I got to at some point."

Harry agreed, and tentatively put himself back into his trousers. Fortunately, the blood slowly started leaving his knob. Ginny suddenly stiffened, "Harry do you have your invisibility cloak?"

"Of course."

"Give it to me, now. Please!" Seeing no reason to refused her, he grabbed it from his pack. She threw it over herself as he heard a creak at the top of the landing. Years of living at the Burrow allowed Ginny to hear movement on the stairs long before Harry did.

The door opened to Molly holding a laundry basket, "Harry, dear, I thought you were going out to play quidditch." He wasn't sure but he thought she sniffed the air subtly.

"I am, Mrs. Weasley. Just wanted to polish my broom handle, I didn't get around to finishing it last night." He lied. He heard the softest of snickers as the door moved slightly behind the Weasley matriarch.

"Oh, well go have fun. Say you haven't seen Ginny, have you?" She asked.

"She came by to get me but went back down a few minutes ago."

"I must've just missed her." She waved him off, "No bother, it was nothing important."

Trying not to look relieved. Harry left Molly behind and made his way down to the ground floor of the Burrow. He joined the Weasley boys up in the air. When Ginny joined them a few minutes later, he was the only one that paid her change of shirt any mind. Everyone else was more worried about getting into a game of three-on-three. They spent the next couple hours enjoying the summer sun and the thrill of flying.

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