CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
A/N: Songs used in this chapter are: One Last Breath and Don't Stop
Dancing, respectively, both by Creed © to them.
Ginny stood near the head table, her small figure hidden and unseen in the usual breakfast mayhem that occurred on the weekends. "Any luck with You-Know-Who?" she asked quietly, glancing around before turning back to Dumbledore for a response. He quickly shook his head no. McGonagall sat somewhat shamefully beside him, unable to help listen to Dumbledore. If she and Poppy had followed Hermione's orders.she couldn't believe she'd been so stupid. As Ginny began to make her way to the Gryffindor table, where Fred and George, usually the main cause of the breakfast pandemonium, sat quietly with Ron, a look of gloom shadowed on their faces. Dumbledore felt that she, Ginny, had to be the one to break the news of their mother's death to them. I hated that more than anything, Ginny thought; breaking the-
Her thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the creaking open of the door. Glancing up she stared at the figure who had nervously entered the room. She seethed with anger as Cornelius Fudge made his way towards Dumbledore at the Head Table. She couldn't help it. "Mr. Fudge!" she called out loudly to be heard over the noise. Fudge stopped quickly, and spun around, staring at Ginny as she approached him. "Yes?" he asked uncertainly, staring at Ginny's red, and obviously angry, face. "Anything I can help you with?" he continued, trying to back away without making it obvious. "You know what would really help me, Mr. Fudge?" Ginny began sweetly. "If you went to the Astronomy tower, took a good look at the ground and jump out the window." "I beg your pardon, Miss, uh, Miss. Weasley?" Fudge replied; he figured it safe enough to guess that she was a Weasley. "Smartest guess you've made in your life," Ginny replied, folding her arms. "Just who do you think you are?" she yelled out suddenly. "I mean, besides a loser that knows he's an incompetent idiot?" Fudge's face flushed red as the Hall quietened, all heads turning to stare at Fudge and Ginny. Dumbledore stood up at the Head table. "Ginny, perhaps you should calm down-" "NO!" Ginny replied, angry enough to interrupt Dumbledore. "I am sick and tired of this stupid idiot running our Ministry. What kind of minister, Professor Dumbledore, charges through the Forbidden Forest like a bull in the middle of the night? Ruining possibly the most important event in recent history?" Ginny yelled out. "Young lady, before I do something drastic-" "So you are going to jump out the window? That's what I would call.sufficiently drastic. For once, Mister Cornelius Fudge, SHUT UP!" Ginny finished off angrily before spinning around and racing out the hall. There was a stunned silence before a few sniggers filled the room; Cornelius Fudge's face turned a deep crimson as he walked towards Dumbledore and began to talk furiously. ? Harry sat in the chair beside Siria's bed. She sat quietly, writing in a diary. Harry sighed; he'd been trying to talk to her for days, but she refused to talk. Not just to him, but to everyone. He stood up and walked over to Hermione's bed. Her head was heavily bandaged, yet she was reading a remarkably thick book. "Honestly Hermione," Harry stated, shaking his head before opening a Chocolate Frog from her bedside table with one arm. His other arm was awkwardly lying motionless beside him. Madam Pomfrey had injected a numbing serum just an hour earlier as he fixed up the splintered bones on his arm; the very same arm that, five years ago, had had all it's bones removed by Professor Lockhart. "How can you read at a time like this?" he asked in wonder. "I'm looking up some information about Crossers.for Siria. I think, if Siria is up to it, she can undo the Krillic curse- bring Draco back and send James back to the dead," Hermione explained, not glancing up from her book. "What?" Harry cried out. "But, Hermione- you can't send my father back to the dead. Not when I've just begun to know him.this is Draco we're talking about. Draco, or my father; which one do you want to stay?" "Harry.think reasonably. You're father has spent seventeen years being dead. You can't expect him to want to stay here, alive.it's too shocking," Hermione attempted to give reason. "I like to think he'd want to stay here to get to know me," Harry said coldly, standing up and moving away from the bed. "Harry." Hermione's voice called out after him. He ignored her and quickly pulled the curtain around his bed closed. He sat angrily staring into space for a few moments before he noticed that Siria had gone.her diary lying open on the bed. He stood up and walked towards it. "Siria?" he called out quietly. There was no response. He stared at the diary, and the page full of Siria's small neat writing. He knew he shouldn't read it, that it was private.but he would know if she was thinking along the same lines as Hermione. He picked it up, and glanced around quickly, before beginning to read again. I know that it isn't my right to decide if Harry's father should 'die' again, to go back to Heaven.but, sometimes when I see his eyes, I can see that he is not happy. Yes, he is in awe of Harry, and the love for Harry is easily seen in his eyes.but when he stares at Harry while Harry is sleeping, I can see the lady with red hair.Harry's mother, Lily I think. She isn't aware that she is there by James and Harry. She seems unaware that her ghostly presence is near to James and Harry, as though she cannot stay away from them.but, if what Dumbledore has said is true, then.there seems to be a certain magnetism with the Potter family- it seems as though their love is so strong it can break all the rules. I see James sit by Harry, holding a picture of Lily, staring at it, and then back at Harry, and I like to imagine he is looking at Harry and seeing Lily. He loves Harry as much as he loves Lily, but when my strengths as a Crosser become so fierce and I can hear the whispers, the faint echoes of voices of the dead, then I know that James understands he's had the chance to see Harry.but he does not belong here with him. He belongs in Heaven with Lily, by her side with both of them loving Harry from a distance. Death is a mystery.a void in life when people can learn to accept all that they have lost through passing and live on just love in a place where they can see all that they love whenever they want. James wants to be with both Lily and Harry, and it is hurting him to decide on his choice; to stay or to go. If Harry lets him, makes sure that James knows he understands, he could make so many people happy. James, Lily, Draco.and me. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.and I have the ability to be the beholder of death. It scares me to think that I could transform the livings of so many people with just a touch.I am only a girl who has her own dreams.who can change someone's view of 'beautiful' and 'death' in an instant that will seem so sacred to them and so scary to me. I want Harry to make the right choice, the choice that he knows will be up to him, and him only, in the end. He begs for me to talk to him, but if I do.I'm afraid I'll say something to make him confused. So I write in here to weave my blanket of secrets.secrets entwined in my heart.secrets that still find a way to escape like leaves falling from a tree.falling from my heart and floating away until even I am so blinded by the confusion that I turn them away. ? Dumbledore sat at his desk, rubbing his tired eyes as he stared at the cover of the Daily Prophet. The headline screamed at him as he thrust it down in disgust. You-Know-Who.in the air you breathe. He couldn't help but hate himself for it, even as he told himself that it wasn't his fault. He couldn't stand to see the thick bold print flash up at him, so he quickly flipped open the page. Another headline was splayed all over the page .yet this one he could be proud of. Quirrell's name cleared .sacrifice of the betrayer. Dumbledore sighed as he thought of what had happened the night Voldemort's spirit had escaped. In some strange way, he believed it was his fault, his mistake. He just couldn't shake the feeling that part of the blame was on him. "It wasn't your fault," a voice said suddenly. Dumbledore started and looked up, staring at Ginny. She smiled. "My mage powers are increasing. I can now walk through walls.and you already know I can read minds," she said taking a seat opposite Dumbledore.
"What brings you here?" Dumbledore asked curiously. "I spoke to Harry today," she began nervously. "He- he said that, if James wants to, Siria can perform the crossover on James and Draco- switch them back." "I see," Dumbledore stated simply, crossing his hands. "Have you spoken to James about this?" "I didn't have to. I could read his mind, remember? He loves Harry, but he doesn't belong here.and I can understand that," Ginny replied. "If- um, - if James does want to be 'crossed' over, I was just wondering if.if you could wait to cross him over.just, you know, well, wait-" "Wait until after your mother's funeral?" Dumbledore filled in softly. "Yes. How did you know?" Ginny asked her brown eyes startled. "Sometimes, Ginny, I think there can be a Mage in all of us," Dumbledore said before standing up. "You'd better leave, now. We are all tired and sleep is welcome." "Yes, I know," Ginny smiled. She too stood up and was just about to turn when she noticed the newspaper that lay crumpled on Dumbledore's desk. "I know of something that can cheer you up," she smiled, before turning to the next page of the newspaper. She quickly left the room as Dumbledore stared at the headline, a smile on his face as well as hers. Minister of Magic shamed.fired.unemployed! ? Please come now, I think I'm falling Holding onto all I think is safe It seems I've found the road to nowhere And I'm trying to escape I yelled back when I heard thunder But I'm down to one last breath And with it, let me say Let me say
Hold me now, I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
.Maybe six feet ain't so far down.
Ginny stared silently as the coffin was lowered into the ground, her red hair running wild with the fierce wind. A tear rolled off her cheek, and she watched as it landed on the coffin, the wind splashing it about. She imagined her mother's face, hidden under the wood, and smiled inside. She could feel her fathers hand resting softly on her shoulder, feel her brother George's shoulders shake silently as he cried; she could hear Ron's whimpered sobs and the haunting voice of Siria who sang so beautifully. And she could feel her mother's presence upon her, her mother's smile caressing her face, her mother's voice as she sang sweetly in her ear the song that she'd always sung when Ginny was upset. The song that echoed throughout her head now, spinning around so it drown out the voice of Siria and comforted her in a way that she knew would protect her forever. At times life is wicked and I just can't see the light A silver lining sometimes isn't enough to make some wrongs seem right Whatever life brings, I've been through everything But now I'm on my knees again. And I know I must be strong
Although I hurt I must go on
Because inside I know that many feel this way.
? Siria sat in the centre of the room, James lying in front of her. She looked nervous as she closed her eyes, holding the wand that had just 'chosen' her. She could see, out of the corner of her eyes, Harry sitting quietly in the corner, his eyes never leaving his father. She was so scared that it wouldn't work, and that she'd ruin everything for everyone, but she comforted herself with the thought that if some people had the power to kill, then she could have the power to restore. Closing her eyes again, she pointed her wand at a pure white candle that lay just in front of James. Though her eyes were closed, she imagined the flame from the candle following the path of her wand until it disappeared, the heat and light now flowing from her wand. Against the deep black of her closed eyelids, Siria could see faces of people who were not quite there, peoples who had hands that seemed to reach out for her and disappear, fade into nothing, as she stepped back. She didn't know how she was supposed to know which hand was her brother's, and that was what scared her more than anything. But suddenly there was a pair of slate grey eyes staring at her, alight with a deep hope, and a flash of white blonde hair before the face faded and a hand appeared before her, brighter than any of those she'd seen before. She reached out and held onto it, feeling a shock flow through her fingertips. She quickly stretched out her other hand, dropping the wand on James' chest and grabbing his hand. She felt another shock flow through her, this one stronger than before, and everything went black. It seemed as though she could feel the very being of James melt through her, leaving her cold before what could have been Draco's spirit come through. As though taken through a slide show of something she would never understand, she saw Draco before her, triggering memories of a three year old, gazing at her pregnant mother.memories of a laughing man who she could recognise as Sirius smiling down at her, placing her on his shoulders as he laughed, told her it was all a secret and that she was his beautiful baby girl, that he would love her forever and ever. Then it was a memory of being lost, having nowhere to go, being hidden like a lie and then a memory of all around her being nothing but a void of emptiness. ? Draco sat at his sister's bed in the hospital wing, haven just taken Sirius' place as he'd left. Siria was sleeping, her skin a pale white as she looked sickly thin on the bed. It was the end of the school year.time to leave. As soon as Siria was well enough, more emotionally than physically, she'd be able to go to what she should've always known as home.the Malfoy Manor. Yet Draco was not a Malfoy anymore. Just as Siria never was one. Draco would remain a Malfoy by name, but he knew that he would despise himself for the rest of his life for being one. He felt sad as he stared at the portrait of Narcissa and Sirius on Siria's table. Sirius had given it to her, as a gift that he knew she would want. He knew that Sirius would never go back to be with Narcissa; he could see it in his eyes. If he had any love left for the woman who'd betrayed him and married Lucius Malfoy because she could not stand up to her parents.it would be love born of gratitude, gratitude for Siria. There was a noise at the door and he glanced up. Ginny stared back at him. Her brown eyes stared at him intently, and he wondered if she could see what he was thinking. And then he remembered that she could read what he was thinking anyway. "I know it wouldn't work," he said quietly, glancing away. "Do you understand why, though?" she asked as she sat opposite him. "Because Harry is where you belong.with a Gryffindor, not me. I understand, Ginny. Harry will to, I know he will. It's all for the best. You are destined for Harry. I suppose you could say I was just a test," he smiled awkwardly. "A test I'll never regret passing," Ginny smiled. Draco stood up. "I'd better get packed and ready.you know," he said before waving goodbye to Ginny, walking out the door. ? Harry sat at the edge of the lake outside the castle. The water was lukewarm as he swirled his fingers in it. What a year it had been.Quirrell's name cleared, Ginny's mother dying, Draco's sister appearing, getting to know his father, Voldemort living again. He heard footsteps come up behind him and he turned around, staring up at Dumbledore. "What troubles you Harry?" Dumbledore asked quietly. "I would sit down to join you, but I fear my back will give way." He smiled quietly. "I hate the way he always gets away with it and how it seems he'll never be able to die," Harry said glumly, staring out at the mass expanse of sky before him. "One day he will Harry. Immortality can only be born if one is good.as Voldemort is evil, and if he does manage to inhabit a body, well.all I'll say is that death can trick the mind in many ways. I believe that there is someone out there Harry, and it may be you and it may not, but there is someone out there who can stop Voldemort. One day, Harry.one day," Dumbledore said before standing silently for a few moments as he stared at the sky like Harry. He turned and walked away. One day, Harry thought. One day.in this lifetime, or the next? I'll never know.unless I am the one. ? Ginny dragged her trunks onto the carriages of the Hogwarts Express, smiling at Draco as she passed him. "So," Ron said, happy again for a moment. "Can you really read minds, Gin?" he asked. Fred and George turned around curiously. "Yes," Ginny said. "Which means I can tell what you're thinking when you stare at Hermione's bum in the middle of breakfast, oh dear brother of mine," Ginny smiled. Ron and Hermione blushed and Harry, Fred and George laughed out loud. It almost seemed as though everything was back to normal. Almost.
Ginny stood near the head table, her small figure hidden and unseen in the usual breakfast mayhem that occurred on the weekends. "Any luck with You-Know-Who?" she asked quietly, glancing around before turning back to Dumbledore for a response. He quickly shook his head no. McGonagall sat somewhat shamefully beside him, unable to help listen to Dumbledore. If she and Poppy had followed Hermione's orders.she couldn't believe she'd been so stupid. As Ginny began to make her way to the Gryffindor table, where Fred and George, usually the main cause of the breakfast pandemonium, sat quietly with Ron, a look of gloom shadowed on their faces. Dumbledore felt that she, Ginny, had to be the one to break the news of their mother's death to them. I hated that more than anything, Ginny thought; breaking the-
Her thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the creaking open of the door. Glancing up she stared at the figure who had nervously entered the room. She seethed with anger as Cornelius Fudge made his way towards Dumbledore at the Head Table. She couldn't help it. "Mr. Fudge!" she called out loudly to be heard over the noise. Fudge stopped quickly, and spun around, staring at Ginny as she approached him. "Yes?" he asked uncertainly, staring at Ginny's red, and obviously angry, face. "Anything I can help you with?" he continued, trying to back away without making it obvious. "You know what would really help me, Mr. Fudge?" Ginny began sweetly. "If you went to the Astronomy tower, took a good look at the ground and jump out the window." "I beg your pardon, Miss, uh, Miss. Weasley?" Fudge replied; he figured it safe enough to guess that she was a Weasley. "Smartest guess you've made in your life," Ginny replied, folding her arms. "Just who do you think you are?" she yelled out suddenly. "I mean, besides a loser that knows he's an incompetent idiot?" Fudge's face flushed red as the Hall quietened, all heads turning to stare at Fudge and Ginny. Dumbledore stood up at the Head table. "Ginny, perhaps you should calm down-" "NO!" Ginny replied, angry enough to interrupt Dumbledore. "I am sick and tired of this stupid idiot running our Ministry. What kind of minister, Professor Dumbledore, charges through the Forbidden Forest like a bull in the middle of the night? Ruining possibly the most important event in recent history?" Ginny yelled out. "Young lady, before I do something drastic-" "So you are going to jump out the window? That's what I would call.sufficiently drastic. For once, Mister Cornelius Fudge, SHUT UP!" Ginny finished off angrily before spinning around and racing out the hall. There was a stunned silence before a few sniggers filled the room; Cornelius Fudge's face turned a deep crimson as he walked towards Dumbledore and began to talk furiously. ? Harry sat in the chair beside Siria's bed. She sat quietly, writing in a diary. Harry sighed; he'd been trying to talk to her for days, but she refused to talk. Not just to him, but to everyone. He stood up and walked over to Hermione's bed. Her head was heavily bandaged, yet she was reading a remarkably thick book. "Honestly Hermione," Harry stated, shaking his head before opening a Chocolate Frog from her bedside table with one arm. His other arm was awkwardly lying motionless beside him. Madam Pomfrey had injected a numbing serum just an hour earlier as he fixed up the splintered bones on his arm; the very same arm that, five years ago, had had all it's bones removed by Professor Lockhart. "How can you read at a time like this?" he asked in wonder. "I'm looking up some information about Crossers.for Siria. I think, if Siria is up to it, she can undo the Krillic curse- bring Draco back and send James back to the dead," Hermione explained, not glancing up from her book. "What?" Harry cried out. "But, Hermione- you can't send my father back to the dead. Not when I've just begun to know him.this is Draco we're talking about. Draco, or my father; which one do you want to stay?" "Harry.think reasonably. You're father has spent seventeen years being dead. You can't expect him to want to stay here, alive.it's too shocking," Hermione attempted to give reason. "I like to think he'd want to stay here to get to know me," Harry said coldly, standing up and moving away from the bed. "Harry." Hermione's voice called out after him. He ignored her and quickly pulled the curtain around his bed closed. He sat angrily staring into space for a few moments before he noticed that Siria had gone.her diary lying open on the bed. He stood up and walked towards it. "Siria?" he called out quietly. There was no response. He stared at the diary, and the page full of Siria's small neat writing. He knew he shouldn't read it, that it was private.but he would know if she was thinking along the same lines as Hermione. He picked it up, and glanced around quickly, before beginning to read again. I know that it isn't my right to decide if Harry's father should 'die' again, to go back to Heaven.but, sometimes when I see his eyes, I can see that he is not happy. Yes, he is in awe of Harry, and the love for Harry is easily seen in his eyes.but when he stares at Harry while Harry is sleeping, I can see the lady with red hair.Harry's mother, Lily I think. She isn't aware that she is there by James and Harry. She seems unaware that her ghostly presence is near to James and Harry, as though she cannot stay away from them.but, if what Dumbledore has said is true, then.there seems to be a certain magnetism with the Potter family- it seems as though their love is so strong it can break all the rules. I see James sit by Harry, holding a picture of Lily, staring at it, and then back at Harry, and I like to imagine he is looking at Harry and seeing Lily. He loves Harry as much as he loves Lily, but when my strengths as a Crosser become so fierce and I can hear the whispers, the faint echoes of voices of the dead, then I know that James understands he's had the chance to see Harry.but he does not belong here with him. He belongs in Heaven with Lily, by her side with both of them loving Harry from a distance. Death is a mystery.a void in life when people can learn to accept all that they have lost through passing and live on just love in a place where they can see all that they love whenever they want. James wants to be with both Lily and Harry, and it is hurting him to decide on his choice; to stay or to go. If Harry lets him, makes sure that James knows he understands, he could make so many people happy. James, Lily, Draco.and me. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.and I have the ability to be the beholder of death. It scares me to think that I could transform the livings of so many people with just a touch.I am only a girl who has her own dreams.who can change someone's view of 'beautiful' and 'death' in an instant that will seem so sacred to them and so scary to me. I want Harry to make the right choice, the choice that he knows will be up to him, and him only, in the end. He begs for me to talk to him, but if I do.I'm afraid I'll say something to make him confused. So I write in here to weave my blanket of secrets.secrets entwined in my heart.secrets that still find a way to escape like leaves falling from a tree.falling from my heart and floating away until even I am so blinded by the confusion that I turn them away. ? Dumbledore sat at his desk, rubbing his tired eyes as he stared at the cover of the Daily Prophet. The headline screamed at him as he thrust it down in disgust. You-Know-Who.in the air you breathe. He couldn't help but hate himself for it, even as he told himself that it wasn't his fault. He couldn't stand to see the thick bold print flash up at him, so he quickly flipped open the page. Another headline was splayed all over the page .yet this one he could be proud of. Quirrell's name cleared .sacrifice of the betrayer. Dumbledore sighed as he thought of what had happened the night Voldemort's spirit had escaped. In some strange way, he believed it was his fault, his mistake. He just couldn't shake the feeling that part of the blame was on him. "It wasn't your fault," a voice said suddenly. Dumbledore started and looked up, staring at Ginny. She smiled. "My mage powers are increasing. I can now walk through walls.and you already know I can read minds," she said taking a seat opposite Dumbledore.
"What brings you here?" Dumbledore asked curiously. "I spoke to Harry today," she began nervously. "He- he said that, if James wants to, Siria can perform the crossover on James and Draco- switch them back." "I see," Dumbledore stated simply, crossing his hands. "Have you spoken to James about this?" "I didn't have to. I could read his mind, remember? He loves Harry, but he doesn't belong here.and I can understand that," Ginny replied. "If- um, - if James does want to be 'crossed' over, I was just wondering if.if you could wait to cross him over.just, you know, well, wait-" "Wait until after your mother's funeral?" Dumbledore filled in softly. "Yes. How did you know?" Ginny asked her brown eyes startled. "Sometimes, Ginny, I think there can be a Mage in all of us," Dumbledore said before standing up. "You'd better leave, now. We are all tired and sleep is welcome." "Yes, I know," Ginny smiled. She too stood up and was just about to turn when she noticed the newspaper that lay crumpled on Dumbledore's desk. "I know of something that can cheer you up," she smiled, before turning to the next page of the newspaper. She quickly left the room as Dumbledore stared at the headline, a smile on his face as well as hers. Minister of Magic shamed.fired.unemployed! ? Please come now, I think I'm falling Holding onto all I think is safe It seems I've found the road to nowhere And I'm trying to escape I yelled back when I heard thunder But I'm down to one last breath And with it, let me say Let me say
Hold me now, I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
.Maybe six feet ain't so far down.
Ginny stared silently as the coffin was lowered into the ground, her red hair running wild with the fierce wind. A tear rolled off her cheek, and she watched as it landed on the coffin, the wind splashing it about. She imagined her mother's face, hidden under the wood, and smiled inside. She could feel her fathers hand resting softly on her shoulder, feel her brother George's shoulders shake silently as he cried; she could hear Ron's whimpered sobs and the haunting voice of Siria who sang so beautifully. And she could feel her mother's presence upon her, her mother's smile caressing her face, her mother's voice as she sang sweetly in her ear the song that she'd always sung when Ginny was upset. The song that echoed throughout her head now, spinning around so it drown out the voice of Siria and comforted her in a way that she knew would protect her forever. At times life is wicked and I just can't see the light A silver lining sometimes isn't enough to make some wrongs seem right Whatever life brings, I've been through everything But now I'm on my knees again. And I know I must be strong
Although I hurt I must go on
Because inside I know that many feel this way.
? Siria sat in the centre of the room, James lying in front of her. She looked nervous as she closed her eyes, holding the wand that had just 'chosen' her. She could see, out of the corner of her eyes, Harry sitting quietly in the corner, his eyes never leaving his father. She was so scared that it wouldn't work, and that she'd ruin everything for everyone, but she comforted herself with the thought that if some people had the power to kill, then she could have the power to restore. Closing her eyes again, she pointed her wand at a pure white candle that lay just in front of James. Though her eyes were closed, she imagined the flame from the candle following the path of her wand until it disappeared, the heat and light now flowing from her wand. Against the deep black of her closed eyelids, Siria could see faces of people who were not quite there, peoples who had hands that seemed to reach out for her and disappear, fade into nothing, as she stepped back. She didn't know how she was supposed to know which hand was her brother's, and that was what scared her more than anything. But suddenly there was a pair of slate grey eyes staring at her, alight with a deep hope, and a flash of white blonde hair before the face faded and a hand appeared before her, brighter than any of those she'd seen before. She reached out and held onto it, feeling a shock flow through her fingertips. She quickly stretched out her other hand, dropping the wand on James' chest and grabbing his hand. She felt another shock flow through her, this one stronger than before, and everything went black. It seemed as though she could feel the very being of James melt through her, leaving her cold before what could have been Draco's spirit come through. As though taken through a slide show of something she would never understand, she saw Draco before her, triggering memories of a three year old, gazing at her pregnant mother.memories of a laughing man who she could recognise as Sirius smiling down at her, placing her on his shoulders as he laughed, told her it was all a secret and that she was his beautiful baby girl, that he would love her forever and ever. Then it was a memory of being lost, having nowhere to go, being hidden like a lie and then a memory of all around her being nothing but a void of emptiness. ? Draco sat at his sister's bed in the hospital wing, haven just taken Sirius' place as he'd left. Siria was sleeping, her skin a pale white as she looked sickly thin on the bed. It was the end of the school year.time to leave. As soon as Siria was well enough, more emotionally than physically, she'd be able to go to what she should've always known as home.the Malfoy Manor. Yet Draco was not a Malfoy anymore. Just as Siria never was one. Draco would remain a Malfoy by name, but he knew that he would despise himself for the rest of his life for being one. He felt sad as he stared at the portrait of Narcissa and Sirius on Siria's table. Sirius had given it to her, as a gift that he knew she would want. He knew that Sirius would never go back to be with Narcissa; he could see it in his eyes. If he had any love left for the woman who'd betrayed him and married Lucius Malfoy because she could not stand up to her parents.it would be love born of gratitude, gratitude for Siria. There was a noise at the door and he glanced up. Ginny stared back at him. Her brown eyes stared at him intently, and he wondered if she could see what he was thinking. And then he remembered that she could read what he was thinking anyway. "I know it wouldn't work," he said quietly, glancing away. "Do you understand why, though?" she asked as she sat opposite him. "Because Harry is where you belong.with a Gryffindor, not me. I understand, Ginny. Harry will to, I know he will. It's all for the best. You are destined for Harry. I suppose you could say I was just a test," he smiled awkwardly. "A test I'll never regret passing," Ginny smiled. Draco stood up. "I'd better get packed and ready.you know," he said before waving goodbye to Ginny, walking out the door. ? Harry sat at the edge of the lake outside the castle. The water was lukewarm as he swirled his fingers in it. What a year it had been.Quirrell's name cleared, Ginny's mother dying, Draco's sister appearing, getting to know his father, Voldemort living again. He heard footsteps come up behind him and he turned around, staring up at Dumbledore. "What troubles you Harry?" Dumbledore asked quietly. "I would sit down to join you, but I fear my back will give way." He smiled quietly. "I hate the way he always gets away with it and how it seems he'll never be able to die," Harry said glumly, staring out at the mass expanse of sky before him. "One day he will Harry. Immortality can only be born if one is good.as Voldemort is evil, and if he does manage to inhabit a body, well.all I'll say is that death can trick the mind in many ways. I believe that there is someone out there Harry, and it may be you and it may not, but there is someone out there who can stop Voldemort. One day, Harry.one day," Dumbledore said before standing silently for a few moments as he stared at the sky like Harry. He turned and walked away. One day, Harry thought. One day.in this lifetime, or the next? I'll never know.unless I am the one. ? Ginny dragged her trunks onto the carriages of the Hogwarts Express, smiling at Draco as she passed him. "So," Ron said, happy again for a moment. "Can you really read minds, Gin?" he asked. Fred and George turned around curiously. "Yes," Ginny said. "Which means I can tell what you're thinking when you stare at Hermione's bum in the middle of breakfast, oh dear brother of mine," Ginny smiled. Ron and Hermione blushed and Harry, Fred and George laughed out loud. It almost seemed as though everything was back to normal. Almost.