Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of the series. I own the plot only.

Author's Note: I'm sure I'm really showing my colors as well as my ignorance with this one. I'm not sure how the British system of law works. I have found very little to aid me in accuracy and have drawn largely upon my own knowledge of the American system, John Grisham, and J.K. Rowling's own descriptions of the trials in Book Four: Goblet of Fire. I apologize for inaccuracy ahead of time and promise from here on out to be more thorough in research so as not to insult my readers.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Grace

"Grace

She takes the blame

She covers the shame

Removes the stain

It could be her name

Grace

It's a name for a girl

It's also a thought that

Changed the world

And when she walks on the street

You can hear the strings

Grace finds goodness

In everything…"

U2: 'Grace'

                He felt the heat from the blaze, the pressure of the roof and stone masonry as it displaced the air in the hall. He had pulled Isaiah's feet clear of the falling debris in time to close the trap door. He found it when in desperation he had looked up to ask God to save her, even if he were not worthy of such grace. Surely she was worth that, someone who had done so much good, who had so much good left to do.

                Two things happened.

                He saw an iron ring half concealed in the masonry of the fireplace where Isaiah had fallen and he heard Faramir call out for her. God had given more than grace—he had shown mercy.

                Draco's faith in a higher power would be unyielding after that moment.

                Isaiah brought a grasping hand up to Draco's throat and clasped on to the chain-mail and green lined with silver surcoat of Slytherin. He made some indistinguishable gasping noises and his hand went limp.

                He did not answer Faramir, who did not know that two others lie concealed by the flame. It was selfish not to, he thought at first. But he wanted Ginny to have a fighting chance. She would not have that chance if Faramir felt he had to stay behind for him and for Isaiah. He watched with silent calculations as Faramir lifted Ginny's motionless body into his arms. She was not dead. He had seen her chest rise and fall with breath.

                Faramir left with Ginny.

                Pulling Isaiah's massive bulk into a sitting position, Draco bent forward and put his shoulder into the masonry by the ring. It gave an inch. A trapdoor as he suspected. He gritted his teeth and heaved at the stone again. It swung back on rusty hinges. Throwing the remainder of his strength into the effort, he flung Isaiah into the opening of the fireplace-concealed exit. Unsure of where it would lead and without his sword, he cast about for a light and a weapon.

                Light was easy enough to find. The entire structure was doused in flame. He reached for a large timber with a burning end: a perfect torch.

                The weapon was found soon after. The sword of Gryffindor lay glittering on the ground where Isaiah had unhanded it. He took it and sheathed it at his waist.

                A creak announced the impatience of the roof to yield to gravity. With another prayer of thanks, Draco thrust Isaiah further into the tunnel and slammed the door. An enormous clash of stone, timber and iron called out seconds later, telling everyone within five miles' distance that the structure stood no more.

                He would clamor for miles in dark and damp, struggling all the way with a seriously injured man and a spitting torch threatening the entire way that it would cease to light their path. The dark never felt so penetrating.

***

                "Hello, Dr. Granger," Ron said, scratching at a thorny stem of one of the dozen roses he had in one hand at his side. The other hand was inside of his pocket clutching nervously at a small box.

                The woman brightened as she opened the door wider. "Ron, how nice. How was your brother's wedding?"

                "Who's there, Catherine?" another voice asked from a distant room.

                "It's Ron, dear," she called back to her husband as she invited Ron in. "Hermione's in her room, dear," Dr. Granger then said to Ron with a bright smile.

                Ron nodded and ascended the stairs slowly. It was the first time all morning that he'd begun to entertain the idea that she would turn him down. He shook the thought aside, reasoning that she had already said yes. But that was before she wasn't speaking to him.

                He was in front of her door before he could gather his thoughts. A moment later he gained the composure to knock.

                Three days since he had spoken to her last and it felt like an eternity.

                He knocked and the door was opened immediately. Hermione seemed to be on her way out as he knocked. She blinked in surprise and so did he. He hadn't expected to see Hedwig perched on her arm as she stood there.

                She anticipated his question and answered. "She was bringing me news of Ginny. Has she spoken to anyone yet?"

                "No," Ron said as he followed her back down the stairs and out the front door. They watched Hedwig fly off in silence before Ron continued. "She met Neville in town for lunch yesterday, other than him…no one."

                 "I tried writing to her about the Prophet article. I hope she knows that I don't think that she had anything to do with me being petrified in second year. My letter was returned unopened," Hermione said in a hollow voice.

                "I don't think your letter even reached her," Ron said handing Hermione the flowers. She took them with a smile, continuing down the empty and snowy street alongside Ron. "She wouldn't open the door for anyone or anything until Neville invited her out."

                Hermione smiled. "They understand each other in a way we never could."

                "I should," Ron said in a frustrated tone. "I'm her brother. I should be able to help her."

                "Ron," Hermione answered in a placating tone. "You can't fix everything for everyone. Harry's always going to be in danger, Ginny's always going to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown and I'm always going to be a complicated little witch," she laughed wrapping an arm around his waist.

                Ron smiled, conceding to that bit of harsh truth. "I wish there was something that I could say to her, though. You know, just to make things a little easier. Malfoy didn't come back. She's not saying much and no one knows anything about what happened back there."

                "And Lucy has to be told something soon," Hermione finished for him.

                He looked at her and nodded. "It's been three days. No one knows anything. Lucy's trial is in two weeks." He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm worried about how she'll take it and how Harry will break it to her. It'll be hard."

                "And Ginny?" Hermione asked.

                "I'm worried about her the most. She's been locked in her room. I can hear the keys of her computer clicking away at all hours of the morning and night. When she comes downstairs for food she looks like she hasn't slept in ages. She ignores everyone. It's worse than it has ever been. When Harry tried to find out what happened to Malfoy he said her eyes just sort of glazed over and she shut herself back in. Then she tore her entire room to pieces."

                Hermione was wide-eyed with astonishment. "Do you think he died back there?"

                "It was 1352, Hermione. I'm surprised that three out of four made it back," Ron said solemnly. "Not that I'm not grateful that they made it back. I am. I just wish for her sake…and for Lucy that he's not dead. But it is the most likely explanation," Ron said.

                "Poor Ginny. That kid never has a break, does she?" Hermione asked thoughtfully.

                "Never. Honestly, I don't know how she does it. Being a seer must be a waking nightmare," Ron agreed. "But I've never met a braver person in my life."

                "I'm sure she would love to know that," Hermione said, giving Ron a squeeze. He turned to look at her and nodded.

                "Oh," he said with a start. "I nearly forgot why I was here."

                "Yeah," Hermione asked with a crooked grin. "Why are you here?"

                "To give you this," Ron answered drawing the small box from his pocket. "And to apologize for being such an idiot. You know I couldn't pick Harry over you."

                Hermione opened the box. It concealed the engagement ring that he'd forgotten to give her three nights ago. "He is your best friend, though," she said.

                "Yes, but you are my entire life," Ron argued, taking the ring from her and placing it on her finger.

Her hands wrapped around his as she added, "And you are my world, Ron Wealsey. I never want to lose you."

He shook his head. "You never will," he promised.

***

Harry watched Sirius as he retreated quickly down the sterile white hall of St. Mungo's.

The orderly let him in.

Lucy was being kept in a relatively low-security area (low security for a criminal/mental wing of a hospital). The orderly carried a wand and a gun. But Lucy was not treated as a high security risk and in her two weeks stay there she had become the favorite of the staff.

"Harry, aren't you supposed to be in school?" Lucy asked surprised to see him.

"Sirius worked it out with Dumbledore," Harry said.

Lucy sat in her bed with her hands folded in her lap. She stared at Harry who seemed withholding and quiet to her. He would not meet her eyes.

"Harry? What's wrong?" she asked after a very long silence.

"Your trial is in two weeks," Harry said with a sigh.

Lucy nodded. "Yes, I know that."

"So?"

She blinked. "So what?"

"Why are you going through with this? If you change your plea to not guilty, the courts would have no choice but to let you off. You're a minor and there's no evidence against you that could stand up in court."

Lucy shook her head. It was only a matter of time before this came up. She wasn't sure she could explain this to Harry. It looked to him like defeat. To her it was something entirely different. She looked at him for a long time trying to gauge what his reaction might be.

"At Ravenclaw's castle, the night you all thought I died," she began slowly.

Harry took a rigid breath. She knew it was unfair to remind him of that.

She continued, "I talked to Peter. He was at that point. I saw it in his eyes. He couldn't go on like that anymore. I convinced him that turning himself in would be the first step in making things right. He did that. He faced up to the things he had done."

"He was a coward and he killed himself because he couldn't handle the guilt," Harry spat with disgust.

"No, Harry," Lucy argued. "He was brave to admit to what he did. It controlled him, every part of him. Peter wasn't Peter anymore. The Peter that killed Mr. Lupin and the Minister and…"

"And my parents," Harry filled in icily.

"And your parents," Lucy agreed. "That wasn't the Peter that existed when he was friends with Sirius and with your father and with Mr. Lupin. That man was fighting for control after Voldemort had held his strings for so long. I wish you could have seen what I saw. He had finally broken. But in the end…he was brave.

"I would be less than that if I couldn't follow. This was the only way for Peter, to admit his guilt. It was the only way out. And it's the same for me. I would be a coward if I couldn't do that as well," Lucy explained.

"But this isn't like what Peter did, Lucy. You're innocent. You're lying to them when you say that you are guilty," Harry pursued.

Lucy put her face in her hands. "Harry," she said through her fingers. "I wish you could understand this. I knew about the children. I knew what my father was doing. Maybe I didn't know enough in time to stop what he was doing to them, but I knew enough to stop what he did to all of those people back there. I knew what my father and Eowyn were planning and yet I stood by and let him. I can't be a coward all of my life while a good man died trying to do what was right, by believing in what I said. I don't want to let Peter down. I don't want to be a hypocrite!" There were tears of anger in her eyes. She couldn't make Harry understand and yet it was the very foundation of her being that she was trying to explain.

All of her life she had watched wretches like Peter bend under the will of the Dark Lord thinking that she would never be like them, wanting to help them, but remaining at a distance. But she was one of them. There was guilt that she must admit to, and admitting to it would be the only way in which she could hope to set herself free, to redeem herself, to be worthy of being her mother's daughter.

"So you're going through with this?" Harry asked finally.

"Yes," Lucy answered solemnly.

"I can't sit by and watch you hang yourself. I would have thought that you of all people would fight for your life. You're just going to let your father win? You're going to take the blame for everything he's done? Lucy, you could never leave this cell if they find you guilty. They could kill you!"

"All your life, Harry, you've lived in a world that was plainly black and white, evil and good. It comes easy for you, doing the right thing. That's what I love about you. But you can't possibly know what it's like to live in my world. It's very gray. Nothing is one way or another. Doing what is right and noble is like pushing against a very strong current. To be like you in my world is to fight that current every day of your life every moment fearing that you will be swept away in it. Honor, courage, selflessness, and truth have no place in my world. I'm trying to break that current before it breaks me. If you can't understand that, Harry, then you don't understand me." Lucy said the last part quietly but steadily watching him without feeling as he turned to look at her and then slowly made his way to the door.

"Lucy, I'm not a hero. I don't do things because their right or because I have a profound sense of the good and just in my blood. I do what I have to do to keep the people I love safe. I don't want you to go through with this. I want…" Harry broke off and shook his head, turning the knob slowly.

"What do you want?" Lucy asked as he opened the door to leave.

"I want everything to be normal. I want you to be safe. I want to see my two best friends married and happy, I want Ginny to be able to sleep through the night just once and I want your brother to come back safe to you," Harry said quietly.

"I want that too, Harry. Someday you'll get what you want, I know you will. Just trust me to do this. I'm not giving up. I'm trying to do what I think is right. Please trust me."

"I do trust you, Lucy," Harry said before shutting the door and walking down the sterile hall to find Sirius.

***

Neville paused in mid motion. His fork was halfway to his mouth which was hanging open in astonishment. "Are you cr—," he began to say after he'd found his voice.

"Crazy?" Ginny finished for him. "Yes, I'm starting to think I am, but not about this. Neville, say you'll help me please."

"You want me to distract Snape so you can break into his office and steal your illegal Time-Turner back?" Neville asked incredulously. He gave her a considering look for a moment and then said, "Okay, only because you said please."

"Great! Neville, I owe you," Ginny said as the morning mail came in a flutter of wings and paper.

Her rare smile faltered as a red envelope fell against her goblet of orange juice. She looked to Neville who picked it up and read the address.

"It's from your mum," he said.

"For me or Ron?" she asked with a furrowed brow.

"You," Neville said handing her the envelope.

She looked down the length of the table to where Ron was sitting next to Harry who was listening patiently while Hermione chattered on in her usual way. But Ron was staring guiltily in her direction. Ginny needed no more evidence than that to know who had tipped their mother off and about what.

"You'd better open that and get it over with before it explodes," she vaguely heard Neville say.

Her eyes never left Ron's as she said, "Oh, I don't need to open it. I know exactly what this is about," removing her wand and setting the envelope on fire. She walked down to the end of the table and threw the flaming piece of red parchment on Ron's half-full plate.

"Stay the hell out of it, Ron," were her accompanying words. She looked to Harry and Hermione while Ron sat gaping at her with the rest of the hall. "That goes for the two of you as well," she told them before she pushed her way past the large oak doors and out of the hall.

"Ginny, wait up!" she heard Neville call out behind her.

She only halted for her friend to catch up after she was well away from the castle.

"What was that about?" Neville asked as he caught her up by the lake.

Ginny shrugged. "Probably about me blowing off Care of Magical Creatures yesterday. Ron most likely found out from Colin and told mum about it. I don't know why no one's ever thought about torching the mothers before. Howlers are…what kind of asshole would invent something like that?" She looked at him as she stopped rambling.

Neville merely blinked and shrugged his shoulders, not accustomed to Ginny's very harsh language under stress.

"Who cares? Ron is a jerk. Back to business, I don't even know if it's been attempted before, but we have to figure out how to break into Snape's office. It's probably got all kinds of wards on it and all. He strikes me as a pretty paranoid guy. All I need for you to do is to keep him away from his office long enough for me to get in and out. When is your Potions class?"

"One-thirty," Neville answered in a resigned sort of voice.

Ginny nodded. "Good. Keep him there. Have him explain a potion that you don't understand. Anything. You're creative, you'll think of something."

"I'll think of something," Neville repeated doubtfully.

"Thanks," Ginny said kissing him on the cheek and running off to her first class.

***

Harry wasn't surprised that he and Ron were split up again in Potions class. Ron was paired with Pansy and he was as always paired with Neville.

This had its advantages, Harry thought. He was worried about Ginny and Neville seemed to be the only person she talked to.

But Neville seemed to sense this as well and kept thoughtfully to himself. He didn't offer any information on Ginny.

"Do you know what that Howler was about this morning?" Harry asked as he crushed some beetle eyes and added them to the caldron between them.

Neville shrugged distractedly. "Doesn't Ron know?" he asked after a moment in thought.

Harry shook his head. "I didn't know that you could set those on fire," he ventured.

"Apparently you can. I'll remember that when my grandmother sends me one," Neville said as he casually pushed their steaming caldron full of unfinished potion onto the floor.

Harry stepped back and blinked at Neville. "Are you feeling all right, Neville?" he asked tentatively.

Neville nodded and grinned. "Fine," he answered.

"Longbottom! Potter! Can you not get through one day in my classroom without making a mess and turning your classmates green?" Snape's voice boomed across the room.

Harry looked at Neville with an eerie unreality. Neville actually found it amusing and endeavored to hide a smile. He set to work eagerly cleaning up mess as Snape grumbled and administered the counter potion to the one they had been brewing. Half of the class had come in contact with their spilled potion and were now glowing.

Harry bent to help Neville, thinking all the while that Dean may have been right when he said that it seemed crazy was being pumped into the water here like fluoride.

When the mess had been cleared and Snape had finished lecturing the two about proper care in a laboratory environment they had been immediately sent out of his sight.  Harry saw Ginny waiting in the hall just outside of the classroom. She smiled and winked at Neville, her smile fading when Harry came out behind him. He leveled a cautiously curious look at her but she turned and walked away without a word.

***

He was close enough to kiss her. And he had wanted to many times before this.

She looked up at him and took a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked one more time just to be sure.

He nodded, hardly hearing her question. He wondered how much of him he could keep from feeling that selfish tug at the back of his mind that hoped she wouldn't find there what she wanted to find. He knew that she had to go back and make sure one way or another. Would it have been evil of him, he wondered, to hope that Malfoy didn't make it? Neville pushed the thought out of his mind feeling all the worse for having let it enter into his conscience.

Ginny moved closer and brought a fine gold chain out of her robe pocket. On the end of it was a Time-Turner. She placed it over his head first, her fingers lingering along his collar for a moment. "Thank you for coming with me. I don't think I could go back there on my own."

His hand moved up to touch hers lightly. "I hope you find him," he said. As he said it, he realized that it was true. He meant it. He really and truly hoped that she found him. While all others had been blind to it (willfully or otherwise), he had paid attention to the way Malfoy and Ginny acted around one another, how they exchanged glances, how they fought, how they ignored each other. She was in love with him, Neville knew this. He also knew how much it would kill her if he was gone. And so Neville depended on finding him as much as Ginny did. Her happiness was always his number one concern.

She smiled and slipped the chain around her own neck and turned the hourglass-shaped charm.

No longer were they in a forest grown high around a ruined castle wall. There was a castle wall there still, but the stone was yellow and sun bleached, not molded and forgotten under a canopy of leaves. Some parts of the ruined keep beyond were still smoldering.

He felt Ginny tense against him and lifted the chain from around his neck. Ginny took it off and placed it back in her pocket.

In a tight and constricted voice she spoke. "There was the last place I saw him. I never dreamed it would look that bad." She pointed to a mound of fallen stone and timber, ash and dust. "I don't even know how I got out of there."

Neville took her trembling hand and said, "Let's just look around. Maybe we can find someone who's seen him."

Ginny turned to her left and to her right. They seemed to be the only two people within miles of here. Two weeks ago this fortress had fallen and now there was no sign of life anywhere. "Let's just split up and search the area first," she said, releasing his hand and walking away toward the crumbled structure.

Neville followed after her picking his path out slowly from the large fragmented pieces of masonry. He deviated from her path when he saw a group of monks. They were dressed in black and they were chanting. Half of them were stripped to the waist and were lashing themselves with leather whips. Their shoulders and back were bleeding freely.

Neville moved toward them eagerly but halted in the next second to look back for Ginny. She was wading through knee high debris and stone with a frown on her face, deep in concentration. He turned again and headed for the slow moving group of monks.

One monk stopped and turned to him. In a solemn tone he offered, "God grant you growth and increase."

"God grant you health and wisdom," Neville said to the monk, understanding Latin well enough to communicate. "Do you know of a foreigner in these parts of fair complexion and hair, speaks in a strange tongue?"

The rest of the monks continued on their way. The one monk stayed behind and eyed Neville suspiciously. "The foreign man that plotted with the Lady Eowyn of Slytherin?" the monk asked with mounting distrust.

"No, not he," answered Neville clumsily, "much younger."

"The foreigner that fought with Lord Galahad, then?" the monk asked.

"That is the very same one," Neville answered with a wave of relief.

The monk indicated a field far off beyond and river and a desolated mill. Carrion swarmed overhead and many monks toiled among dead bodies that littered such an expanse of field that made Neville blink and shudder to behold. "It is unlikely that he has survived when so many have perished, even our Lords Galahad and Isaiah and Brother Mungo of the house of Hufflepuff have perished on that field."

The monk turned to go and Neville was just about to stop him when he heard Ginny calling him. He thanked the monk and turned to meet Ginny where she was running from the ruined Hufflepuff castle.

"What is it? What did you find?" he asked eagerly. As he approached her he slowed. He was near enough to see tears in her eyes. His heart sank for her as he saw that all she held was a chain of silver.

To look at it, it meant nothing to him. In fact, the necklace looked like something a girl might wear. He'd never seen Malfoy with it. But Ginny had explained to him through her tears that it had been his sister's and that he had worn it when she died and he had never taken it off, would never take it off for anything.

"Oh, Ginny, I'm so sorry." It was sincere. He never wanted for this to happen. He thought he might have liked Malfoy out of the way. But that would mean hurting Ginny. He realized that whether Malfoy was dead or alive, in 1352 or in the present time, Ginny wouldn't have been happy with Neville under any circumstances. He knew her better than any one. That was why their friendship had been so easy. They understood each other. But she would never love him as she had loved Malfoy and Neville couldn't even work up enough anger at that to hate Malfoy. Because in truth Neville didn't hate Malfoy, he didn't hate anyone. And it wasn't the fault of Malfoy or Ginny. It was his fault.

He stood there thinking all of this as she cried loudly on his shoulder. He bit his lip hard and put an arm around his friend. Presently she lifted her head and drew the Time-Turner from her pocket.

"Let's just go," she said.

***

"Have you seen my sister?" Ron asked, peeking his head into the dorm where Harry sat on his bed taking Transfiguration notes. Seamus looked up from his book as well. Both shook their heads in the negative.

"Neville?" Ron persisted.

"No," Harry said. "Did you check the library?"

"Yes," Ron answered.

Harry closed his book and followed Ron out of the room. "Just leave her alone for a little while, Ron. She's not going to fall to pieces if she's not in the same room as you are."

"I know that," Ron snapped as they stepped out of the portrait hole. "I just wanted to apologize for the Howler. I didn't know mum was going to do that. I just wrote to her because I was worried about Ginny's missing her classes."

"So she'll get detention, lose house points. Does that really matter to you anymore?" Harry said reasonably.

"No, it doesn't." Ron paused for a moment and then stopped. "I miss the old Ginny more than ever."

Harry stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"You should have known her before the whole Chamber of Secrets thing. She was a different person. She wasn't so quiet. And she definitely never tried to kill herself before that," Ron said.

Harry looked at his feet. "I still can't help but thinking that was partly my fault. He tried to use her to get to me and it ended up ruining her life."

"She's strong though. She's gotten over it. But she's not the same. And it wasn't your fault, Harry," Ron added.

"I think we've all changed though, not just Ginny." Harry continued down the hall with Ron beside him.

"Yeah," Ron said. "You used to smile more. Hermione used to be more annoying. Malfoy used to be more of a pain in our ass."

Harry nodded with a smirk. "Do you think he's gone off with his father?"

Ron shook his head and thought. "I don't think he would have left Lucy for anything."

"That's what I think."

Ron looked as though he wanted to say more.

"What, Ron?" Harry prodded.

"I don't think he would have left Ginny either," Ron admitted.

Harry was quiet for a long time and then he said, "I lost her in the woods back there for about ten minutes. He was there. I think they had a fight or something. She wasn't too happy and I didn't make it any easier on her."

"He's a jerk and he doesn't deserve her, I'm not saying he does," Ron amended. "But I knew it was more than just an interest he had in her when he cornered me and made me tell him about the Truth Serum and everything that happened…you know, when Lucy supposedly died. He knew she wasn't the one who endangered his sister. For her sake, I hope he's not dead."

                Ron turned to Harry, eager to change the subject. Malfoy was neither of their favorite conversations. "I'm coming to the trial on Saturday."

                Harry tensed at the mention. He felt Ron's hand on his shoulder.

                "She'll get off, Harry. No one can convict her. She's too sweet."

                Harry heaved a sigh. "I hope your right."

                "I am. You'll see," Ron said with confidence. "I made it official. I gave Hermione the ring."

                "When?" Harry asked brightly.

                "Two weeks ago," Ron said with an ear to ear grin. "She doesn't wear it because you're still the only person who knows. Her parents don't know, my parents don't know. We're waiting for things to settle down before we tell everyone."

                Harry stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking ahead.

                Ron looked up from the spot that he as watching on the floor and saw what had stopped Harry: Ginny.

                She was sitting on the floor of the entrance hall, back against the wall. There was about two inches of ash and mud along the hem of her cloak and robes. Dangling from one hand was the Time-Turner that she had stolen back from Snape.

                "I'll see you back up stairs," Harry offered, turning and walking back the way they had just come, leaving Ron in the entrance hall with Ginny.

                Ron stood motionless for sometime not knowing what to say to her.

                Ginny stared at him with a frown. She had long since stopped crying. The chain felt cold in her hand. She felt nothing, thought nothing, did nothing but sat there.

                "Was he there?" Ron asked, his voice faltering at the sight of her digressed state.

                She merely shook her head.

                Ron came to sit beside her and they were silent for a while longer. The unasked questions and other things unsaid hung tensely in the air between them.

                "I know you think I'm crazy, just like everyone else. You've put up with more of my crap than anyone else," she began as a tear streamed down her cheek. "I know you've told me a million times not to get involved with him. But, Ron, I loved him even if he didn't love me and now he's gone." She turned her bright brown eyes to him. They were red and washed with tears.

                Ron shook his head, not having the words to comfort her. He gathered her up in his arms and held her. He could feel her hot tears on his shoulder.

                "It was my fault. I could have stopped all of this. But I was too afraid. I didn't want to get involved. I never thought that he would get dragged into it all. I didn't think Lucy would. It's my fault she's in jail and…" her sobbing became louder. "And he's dead. I'm so stupid. I could have stopped this and he would still be alive."

                "No," Ron said, finding his voice. "You're not stupid. You're the bravest person I've ever known, Ginny," he said, placing a hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair that was wet with snow. She was shivering, he noticed for the first time.

                "You're lying," she argued. "I can tell when you're lying, you know."

                "I wouldn't lie to you, Ginny. It must be incredibly hard to carry a gift like that," he said.

                Ginny wiped her eyes and stood, Ron getting to his feet next to her. "I'm sorry I've been so difficult. I know I've been a real jerk to you," she offered.

                Ron took her hand. "Don't even think about it. Are you tired?"

                Ginny stared at the floor for a moment. She looked up finally and nodded. They walked the rest of the way to the common room in silence. There was no need for apologies and no question that couldn't wait until morning. When they reached the portrait hole Ginny pulled back, reluctant to go inside.

                "I don't want to be alone."

                "You can sleep in Hermione's room," Ron offered. He knocked on the door marked HEAD GIRL. Hermione answered with a smile that faltered when she saw Ginny.

                "Can Ginny sleep in here?" Ron asked. "I don't want her in a room alone with Nan tonight."

                Hermione nodded eagerly. "Of course, Ginny come in."

                Ginny took a step through the door but turned quickly and flung herself into Ron's arms. Ron was surprised only momentarily but hugged her back and took a deeply contented breath. He smiled. She was coming slowly back to him. Finally.

                "Goodnight, Ginny. I love you," he said.

                She smiled. "I love you too, Ron."

***

She hadn't entered this room in over five years. She was surprised that she knew how to find it. She hadn't exactly been in her right frame of mind when she had entered it then.

It was hard to come in here. It felt like facing years of pent up guilt. She felt an overwhelming sense of shame.

The floor was dry for the first time since she could remember. Moaning Myrtle had always flooded it. Maybe she had found someplace new to haunt.

The sink caught her eye and she stared at it for a moment. The way her heart sank was a haunting and sickening feeling. She was actually regretting the loss of Tom. She always would. He really was her first love, after all.

She couldn't help but wonder if it was actually his doing or her own. Why was it that no other relationship would work for her?

She broke Neville's heart in her third year, ran away from Harry in her fourth and then there was Draco. He had seemed to see something redeeming in her that the others hadn't. Of course, Harry and Neville would always love her and she them. They were just like brothers to her. But was she looking for what only Tom could give her? And what was that exactly? Was she addicted to the heartache that the memory of him left inside of her?

Was it because of him that she was desperate for Draco's affection? Did she crave what she couldn't have? She was doomed to hurt like this for the rest of her life because she was never fully certain of his love. It had never been given to her as freely as she always gave it away. And he could never give it to her now.

She reached around her neck and brought out one of the two chains. She undid the clasp of the silver one. Holding it out in her hand she stared at it and felt tears coming to her eyes.

Why when she was finally happy had he left her? But that wasn't enough to get rid of her. She followed him, pursued him, never gave up the hope that he might change his mind and come back to her. He saw in her clearly for the first time, that night in the forest, what she had feared he would see: weakness.

There was a time when that was a characteristic that couldn't possibly describe her. And then there was Tom. And he broke her down to nothing worth having.

She shook with anger. The points of the fleur-de-lis cut into her palm as she squeezed it tight in her right hand. Her left she opened in front of her, tracing the jagged scar there with her eyes. He hadn't left her unmarked by any means.

The anger wasn't directed solely at Tom. She was angry with herself. How had she become so desperate for Tom's approval that she would just lay down and die for him like some bloody obedient dog? If only she had been a little stronger, if only she had known what he really was, if only she hadn't been so stupid, so blind…if only…

Her angry brown eyes stared back at her from the mirror above the sink. She knew what it was her reflection was saying: "Blame Tom all you want. But he's not here to pay the consequences. You are, Ginny."

She balled her scarred hand into a fist and brought it hard against the glass, cracking it but not shattering it. Enough to make her bleed, though, and that was really the point.

She smiled at her fragmented reflection. Harry was right, she thought. "I am a masochist," she said opening her injured hand to examine it.

"No, you're not," a voice spoke from behind her, causing her to jump. "I was being a jerk. I wanted to say I was sorry that night. But you weren't talking to me. I deserved it. I shouldn't have hurt you like that."

It was Harry.

"How did you find me?" she asked, drying her face on the sleeve of her sweater.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. He was dressed for the trial and so was she. It looked more like they were headed for a funeral.

"I stopped a moment and thought about where I would go for some quality self-loathing if I were you. Me personally, I would have chosen someplace less…well, bathroom-like." Harry chanced a smile that Ginny returned only briefly before looking away.

"Tell me honestly, Harry," she begged.

"Anything," he offered.

"Am I crazy…am I messed up? Do I hurt other people because I like it?" She looked at him reluctantly. His eyes never moved from hers but he considered these questions for sometime.

"It's not punishment to love you, Ginny. Your brother loves you, Hermione, your family. I love you. I know Draco loved you despite what he might have told you back there in the forest." Harry stepped into the bathroom fully and let the door shut behind him.

Ginny opened her hand and held it out to him.

He saw Lucy's necklace. The one Draco had kept for her. It was black in places like it had been in a fire. There was blood on the points and on Ginny's hand. It was Ginny's blood.

Ginny waited for Harry to take the necklace but he didn't. Instead he reached over the sink and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around the hand that Ginny had smashed against the mirror.

"I think you hurt yourself more than you hurt the rest of us anyway," Harry said, paying more attention to her wound than to the expression on her face.

Ginny shook her head. "I don't feel it."

"I do," he said glancing up momentarily. "I know there's nothing I can say now to bring him back, Ginny. But I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about how I treated you when we were back there." He found it hard to look at her and so busied himself with cleaning up her hand. "Once again I owe you my life."

"You don't have to apologize. What you said was true. I didn't tell you what he said to me back there. You guessed it all on your own," she said hollowly.

Harry furrowed his brow and looked up again. "What do you mean? What did I say?"

"You said that he didn't love me. It was blatantly obvious to everyone but me. I asked him," Ginny admitted in a shaky voice.

"You asked him if he loved you at a time when admitting that he did would have been tantamount to death for you," Harry explained slowly. "I was being stupid and hurting you because I was angry and frustrated and you were an easy target."

"You're just guessing. You don't know that, Harry," Ginny protested. It seemed to hurt less to think that what she lost had never been real to begin with. His contradictions were crushing her. Her composure crumbled as he explained further.

"His father threatened Lucy's life if Draco would not obey him. If he was seen anywhere with you that night his father would have killed you as well. Lucy told me," Harry said. "He hurt you not because he enjoyed it, but because he had to, to save you."

Ginny took a breath and shivered. "I wish you hadn't told me that," she said through tears.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't let you stand there thinking that you're not worth anything to anyone."

She closed her hand around the charm that belonged to the Ravenclaw heir and took a step toward Harry who put his arms around her and wrapped her in a warm hug.

"You're the best part of all of us, Ginny. That's not something we, any of us, would give up easily. It must have been very hard for him."

He winced as he heard Ginny give a loud sob but she nodded her comprehension, which made him feel better.

Minutes later Ginny pulled away from him and dried her eyes. She opened her hand and stared at the burned chain and the charm it held. "Who's going to tell her?"

"I will," Harry said sounding a little less confident than he would have liked.

***

Lucy was only half paying attention as the jury was being sworn in and paid little more when District Attorney Blair Parkinson made his opening statement.

Lucy wasn't surprised in him at all. He was playing the "What's in a name?" card. Would the jury, the rest of the courtroom, the judge have been surprised to find out what exactly came with a name like Parkinson? His loyalty was unaffiliated with words like justice, right, and fair. His loyalty to her father was almost like an identity to this man.

She wondered at her father. Was he so desperate to be rid of her, to shut her away from the world? Did she possess so much knowledge of the man, hold so many of his secrets that he would go to such great lengths; sully his own name and reputation in order to bring her down? In a way, it was a gratification that she had always sought from him. To be so important that he would go to great lengths for her. He had never denied his son anything. It was the sort of attention Draco was used to, tried so hard to distance himself from. Had he only known that he would have had a faithful follower in his daughter…

But he had never wanted her, tried to rid himself of her. And so she was her mother's child only and had been brought up to know that what he was doing was wrong. It could have been so different, she mused. So completely different.

"Nothing further, your honor," Parkinson said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and the first witness, a technician from the Department for the Illegal Use Of Charms, took his seat.

She looked around. Harry was not here yet, neither was Ginny. Ron and Hermione returned twin nervous smiles at her which only made her more nervous. She wished she'd had news of her brother. She wanted him here more than anyone else. Perhaps it was best that he did not know. Wherever he was, with her father, maybe, it was better off that he was there than here and worrying about her.

She chided herself for the many distractions that she let take hold of her and tried to pay more attention to the proceedings…this was her life here that they would be deciding over the next few days. She heard rather than saw Sirius stand up beside her and move to the middle of the courtroom floor. He was frowning over some notes and called "Dr. Grayson Beckett" to the stand.

"Dr. Beckett, what is your office at the British Museum?" Sirius asked, pacing elegantly in his navy blue robes and polished shoes.

Dr. Beckett swallowed. He was evidently nervous and had not been used to giving crucial testimony, especially in deciding the fate of one so young. Lucy stared back with an encouraging smile. "I am Chief Advisor on all aspects of the lives and histories of the Founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"And in such a position, what are your duties, what are your responsibilities?" Sirius asked.

"I am required to know the lives of the Founders, their children, etc. Facts, dates. I analyze all new material, findings brought to light in recent years, investigate their validity."

"And you have devoted many years to researching and investigating the history of these people?" Sirius asked.

"I have made it my life's work," Dr. Beckett answered plainly.

"Objection," blustered D.A. Parkinson. "Irrelevant information."

"The witness knows the Founders and their history better than anyone in Britain and the relevance of his testimony lies in whether or not he feels that my client has tampered with history in anyway," Sirius argued, turning a frank and patient look on the D.A.

"Overruled," the judge, a fair-looking and intelligent elderly man, said. "Proceed, councilor."

"And in all of your years at study, Dr. Beckett, have you ever come across any inconsistencies, any glitches in fact that may lead you to think that the past had been altered?" Sirius asked.

An armed wizard was summoned forward. He held with great care a book, so ancient that it was preserved in a box with tissue and handled only with gloves and an expert's touch. It was set in front of the witness. Dr. Beckett pulled on gloves and uncovered the book.

"In my first year of graduate studies under my old professor at the Museum, I was privileged enough to be assigned to this artifact. I have gone over it with a fine-toothed comb. There are a few things in here that have baffled historians for centuries."

"For centuries?" Sirius asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

"This book is the only account we have of the Founders. And it was written by a monk of the local order, wholly unconnected with the Founders. It talks of the great battle that was waged there, on the very grounds of the school. There has been much literature devoted to the four foreigners and their part."

"Foreigners?"

"And one, speaking in an entirely foreign tongue and dressed in the colors of the Slytherin Legion, charged ahead of the line, even ahead of the standard bearer of that army. He made directly for our lord, Galahad of Ravenclaw. At first I feared for our lord's life. There was urgent intent in the young warrior's eyes. But he called out to our lord and dismounted. I heard not what it was this warrior had said. But it turned the tide of our ever worsening conflict." Dr. Beckett looked up from the book and pulled his reading glasses from his face. "A direct translation."

"And in your expert opinion—," Sirius began to ask.

"Objection," Parkinson stood and said. "Hearsay."

Sirius turned to the judge, never missing a step he said, "The witness is an expert in the area of the history that we are debating. His expert opinion is relevant, not hearsay."

"Overruled. Make your point councilor," the judge said.

"In your expert opinion, Dr. Beckett, given the recent events and the pending guilt of the defendant, what would you conclude was the identity of these foreigners?"

Dr. Beckett took a deep breath. "I would have to say, given Ms. Malfoy's documented testimony it sounds as if these four foreign characters this book refers to were Ms. Malfoy and her three companions. The warrior in the passage that I read to you matches the testimony that Mr. Potter gave; an account of Ms. Malfoy's brother."

"Where is Mr. Malfoy? Is he here to give witness? Where is his testimony?" the judge asked, looking past Sirius at Lucy. Her eyes fell and she looked at the desk in front of her.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Draco Malfoy did not return from the year 1352."

The door to the courtroom creaked on old hinges as someone left into the hallway. Lucy swallowed hard and looked behind her. She knew immediately who had left when Ron stood moments later and left the room as well. She caught Harry's eye and he seemed to find it hard to fix an encouraging smile to his face.

"Councilors, may I see you in my chambers?" the judge finally said. "I would like for Ms. Malfoy to join us. Dr. Beckett, may I see that book of yours?"

Lucy looked to Sirius who nodded. She grabbed her cloak and left the courtroom behind him. The armed guard brought in the book, setting it gently on the judge's mahogany desk.

"Have a seat, gentlemen," the judge said after the guard left. "Are you fine where you are, Ms. Malfoy?" he asked, indicating her wheelchair.

"Fine," Lucy said.

"Where is your brother?" the judge asked finally.

Sirius sat beside her and nodded when she looked to him for an answer.

"I-I don't know where he is, your honor. We were separated while we were in the past. I didn't see him after that…and he didn't come back," she answered in a wavering tone.

The judge looked from Lucy to the District Attorney. "I find it hard to decide on the fate of a young girl when the only other person who could clarify for me her willingness in involving herself in this mess is not here. Mr. Parkinson, do you have any idea if there is anyone tracing his whereabouts?"

Parkinson cleared his throat. "No, your honor. I know of no such investigation."

"I am allowing Dr. Beckett's testimony and I am going to ask for a translated copy of this text so that I may look into the matter a little myself." The judge flipped the cover of the jeweled book open and lingered on the first of the illuminated pages. It was a badger, gilt in gold leaf.

"I am calling for two days' recess in order for you, Mr. Parkinson to find my witness. In the meantime, I will look over this book and you, Ms. Malfoy, I would advise you to think long and hard about what the consequences might be if you hold to your guilty plea. I know that you want to own up to your mistakes. You strike me as a very honest young lady. But do not become over zealous in your need to prove your name wrong." His honest eyes unsettled her, begged her to go easier on herself. Her conscience would not let her yield. She nodded anyway.

"Your honor, it isn't prudent to council the defendant," Parkinson cut in.

"I am well aware, councilor, of what is and is not prudent. I would direct the question of prudence at yourself. There is a lot at stake, I am sure, for your winning this trail." He stopped as Parkinson's expression melted into complete astonishment. "Oh yes, I know what this trial is really about. It is not up to me to decide this young lady's fate. That is for the twelve ladies and gentlemen in that courtroom to decide. But I will caution you as to rules of protocol. I will be watching you closely during the proceedings."

"Yes, your honor," Parkinson said, swallowing hard.

"Find my witness," the judge said.

"Yes, your honor."

Lucy had been listening, but was distracted when her hand brushed against two forgotten pieces of parchment in her cloak pocket. She withdrew two envelopes while the judge talked to D.A. Parkinson. One was drawn on in the childish scrawl of Gabriel. It was the picture he had drawn for her while she was watching him at the Ministry. She had never realized that he had taken an unopened letter of the Minister's to display his artistic skills. It was addressed in a hand that made her stop and wonder at its contents. It was the handwriting of her father.

She handed it to Sirius unopened and without a word.

Turning to the second of the two letters, she remembered this one well. It was in the chapel at Hogsmeade that she had found it addressed to Virginia in a plainly elegant hand that she thought might be Azria's. She pocketed this one again, making a mental note to find Ginny and give it to her when all was over.

They returned to the courtroom. Lucy saw Ginny and Ron slip in only seconds after she had.

The judge took his seat at the bench and explained to the observers that the trial would take a forty-eight hour recess.

The armed guard moved toward Lucy and made to usher her from the court.

"Please," she said, looking to Sirius to back her up. "May I have a moment?"

"Yes, Ms. Malfoy. I'll be waiting in the lobby," the guard conceded instantly.

Ginny moved to the bar and pushed the door open tentatively. Harry and Ron were behind her. "You're doing great, Lucy. Hang in there," Ginny said encouragingly.

"I've been keeping this for you. I found it a while ago and have been meaning to give it to you. Sorry," Lucy said, handing her the piece of ancient parchment.

Harry moved between Lucy and Ginny and then pulled Sirius off to the side. He brought out the necklace that Ginny had found in the ruins only when he was sure that Lucy was engrossed in other conversations. Hermione was talking adamantly about Dr. Beckett and how helpful he was sure to be. Lucy agreed with an enthusiastic shake of her head.

Ginny paid attention to none of it. Her breath came in labored gasps and she grasped at the bar for support as she was sure that her knees would give out on her at any moment. She felt her chest heave painfully and her ears buzzed, her cheeks heated and she was in a state of unreality that scared her and thrilled her all at once.

Sirius moved quickly from Harry and back into the judge's chambers. Soon afterward the judge appeared with him and motioned for Harry and Lucy to join them inside. Sirius was holding the Ravenclaw charm that Draco had worn.

"D.A. Parkinson," the judge said in a loud enough voice to halt the remainder of the milling crowd. "That search won't be necessary. I have my answer."

Parkinson nodded without the slightest emotion and left the courtroom.

"Poor Lucy," Hermione said.

Ginny's head spun. She wanted to explain. She tingled all over with the sheer twilight feeling. "I have to go!" was all she said and sprinted past the unruffled D.A. and out of the courthouse.