Disclaimer: IT'S MINE, ALL MINE!!!!! Well, maybe not all of it, exactly...ok, so not all that much is mine...but some of it is! Not the characters, no...or the setting...or really much of anything...aw, darn...can I just keep the plot, please? Pretty please? With a cherry on top? YAY! I can keep the plot! Um...I had way too much fun with that...

A/N: I wrote most of this chapter in health class while I was supposed to be watching a stupid movie, or in the morning at 4:00, or in the few minutes before a class started, or really late at night when I wasn't supposed to be up...so I just hope everyone is grateful and showers me with lovely reviews! Wonderful things, reviews....(hint, hint!) And, due to the circumstances of my writing...if anyone catches a contradiction or something in there...let me know and I'll try to fix it later on!

Chapter 4 ~ Love at the Lake

Harry had been sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor common room for almost half an hour by the time Ron and Hermione returned. They both looked discouraged and Ron was soaking wet and shivering.

"Where've you two been? And what happened to you, Ron?" Harry was a little surprised when they both jumped like they'd seen a ghost and then ran over and started hugging him. They were babbling so fast that he couldn't understand a word. When they finally calmed down and started talking understandably again, he gathered that they hadn't been able to locate him for a rather long time, even with the help of Dumbledore. Harry's brow furrowed and he told them about his strange experience with the Marauders' Map.

"I just thought it was because I was in a part of the castle that the Marauders never found, but I guess that might not have been it," Harry concluded.

"A part of the castle that the Marauders never explored? Not bloody likely!" Ron replied.

"So where were you?" Hermione said in exasperation. "We looked everywhere for you! I even did a searching spell on the giant squid in case you'd been eaten." She rolled her eyes expressively.

"Oh, I see," Harry said in sudden understanding. "So that's how Ron got wet. But how'd you manage to fall in the lake?" Harry directed the last part of his statement to Ron.

To his surprise, Ron turned a fiery shade of red and Hermione started fidgeting. Both remained silent.

"Oh, come on, you're going to tell me. Just spit it out!" Harry teased. Ron turned even redder and Hermione muttered an inaudible response.

"What's that?" Harry asked loudly. "Didn't hear you!"

"I pushed him in!" Hermione yelled, looking up angrily.

"You what?!" Harry's mouth fell open. That was the last thing he'd expected to hear. Perhaps a row with Malfoy or something...

"He tried to kiss me!" Hermione said defensively.

"'Mione! You didn't have to tell him that!" Ron shouted over Harry's howls of laughter.

"Don't you ''Mione' me! It was completely inappropriate; we were supposed to be looking for Harry."

Ron turned, if possible, even redder and looked as if he was about to bolt for the stairs. Harry got up and casually walked between Ron and the stairs on the pretense of examining a painting, still chuckling. Both Ron and Hermione glared at him suspiciously, but he merely gave them a look of sunny innocence.

"So, Hermione, you pushed him in the lake because that kiss was inappropriate, correct?" Harry asked and Hermione nodded warily. "So that means that you didn't push him because you didn't like it?" Harry let his words trail off suggestively. Hermione was, for once, speechless and merely stood there gaping. Ron looked as if he was about to explode from combined embarrassment and hope.

"Um, H-Harry," Ron stuttered, "I'm g-going to go and ch-change clothes, ok?"

"Nope, I don't think so, you're staying right here. How much of your time I take up is entirely up to you and Hermione."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, clearly bewildered.

Harry smirked and discovered that it could be a very fun expression. No wonder Malfoy used it so often. "Well, I'm found, aren't I? That means that you can kiss Hermione and it won't be 'inappropriate.'"

"Oh, no! No way, I've learned my lesson, don't worry, Hermione," Ron said, backing away from her as if she was going to hex him. Although Ron missed the fleeting look of disappointment on her face, Harry certainly didn't. He was determined that it wouldn't stay there. His two best friends, and Ron especially, deserved some happiness after everything that had happened recently. And, while he was at it, he could have some fun at their expense with the assurance that they'd thank him for it later. He grinned, "I know you agree with me, Hermione. It's not inappropriate anymore, is it?"

"Well, I um... I suppose, er, well, I suppose not...exactly...in that way, that is...like that...um..." Hermione was turning red now as well, but she actually looked a little hopeful.

"There you have it. Go on, Ron, or I'll hex you into oblivion," Harry threatened, but he felt like his face was about to split from grinning so much. Ron shivered, though that could just have been because he was dripping with ice-cold lake water. He shot Harry a murderous glance that promised revenge later on and Harry urged, "Go on!"

"Harry..." Ron shifted uncomfortably and looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione uncertainly.

"You're going to stay here in those wet clothes forever if you don't..." Harry trailed off menacingly. Ron looked at Hermione in mute appeal and Harry added, "And Hermione, if you leave, I'm just going to keep Ron here in the common room until you come back and he kisses you. You wouldn't want to do that to him, now would you?" Hermione looked at Ron and shrugged helplessly. Ron glanced at Harry, then at Hermione, and then at his soaking robes and back again. With slow steps he approached her and took a deep breath.

"Understand, this is all Harry's idea. You're not going to slap me or anything, right?"

"Um, well..." Hermione suddenly got a teasing glint in her eye, "I don't know. I guess you'll just have to find out."

Ron gulped, then with a look of fierce determination, leaned forward and kissed Hermione quickly on the lips. Then he dodged Harry and ran for the stairs as if his life depended on it. Hermione simply stood there with a dreamy, far-away look on her face. It had actually been easier than he'd expected, but neither of them had really fought very hard, probably because they'd both wanted to do it anyway. Harry laughed and patted Hermione, who was still looking dazed, sympathetically on the shoulder. He imagined that he'd look like that if he'd been kissed by...

Suddenly, there came a loud thump from the direction of the stairs and then Ron slid back down them. Both Harry and Hermione ran to him. He was unconscious and pale but didn't seem to have suffered any worse than some bumps and bruises. Harry levitated him gently onto the couch by the fire and then looked at him in complete bewilderment. Ron wasn't really that clumsy usually. Hermione, being the practical one, whipped out her wand and said, "Enervate!" Ron blinked owlishly, looked around slowly, stared at the stairs to the dorm, and then promptly passed out again. Hermione and Harry looked at him in consternation, looked at each other, and then Harry conjured a stretcher while Hermione ran to open the portrait hole for him. Within moments, they were on their way to the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey gave both them and Ron strange looks as she bustled about muttering quietly. She poured a bright purple potion down Ron's throat which caused steam to drift lazily up from his lips and then took out her wand and muttered "Enervate!" This time, Ron's eyes stayed open even though they looked more than a bit wild. He immediately spit out a stream of curses that made Madame Pomfrey say, "Mr. Weasley!" and Hermione quickly shushed him.

"Ron! What happened? Did you trip or something?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"I'm going bloody insane!" Ron yelled. He grabbed Harry's arm and told him quite seriously, "Harry, get Dumbledore and tell him to check me into St. Mungo's immediately. And see if he can get me one of those nice, white, padded rooms, too."

"Why d'you think you're going insane?" Harry asked. "What happened?"

"You're not going to believe me," Ron warned, shaking his head slowly. "You're definitely not going to believe me. I don't believe me, so why should you?"

"Just tell us!" Hermione practically shouted, losing patience with him.

"I saw her," Ron said deliberately. "She was sitting in the dorm on Harry's bed."

"Who? Do you have a girlfriend, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"No," Harry replied in bewilderment. Why would a girl be sitting on his bed? And why would that cause Ron to fall down the stairs? "Who was it, Ron?"

"Ginny."

~*~

Moments later, Harry was running through the halls back to the boys' dormitory with little remembrance of how he got there. His mind was alight with exultation. He had been right and Ginny was alive and currently waiting in his dorm. He sped up.

Harry skidded around a corner and almost plowed into McGonagall. He managed to stop himself in time, but just barely. Professor McGonagall looked shocked.

"Mr. Potter! Will you please contain yourself?! There is to be no running in the hallways. Now, Headmaster Dumbledore sent me to fetch you, so if you'll please follow me at a reasonable pace..." She started off toward Dumbledore's office without even checking to see if he was following, straightening her hat, which had been knocked askew when she had jumped back to avoid Harry.

Harry was practically frantic. He couldn't wait to see Ginny; what if she decided no one was coming and left? He had missed her too much to put off seeing her. And not only that, but the great guilt which rested on his soul would be lifted.

"Professor!" he called out after her retreating back. "I can't come; there's something very urgent that I have to do first."

Professor McGonagall turned around and glared down at him. "The wishes of the Headmaster take precedence over yours, Mr. Potter, and what he wishes is to speak with you. You will come and speak with him, whether you want to or not." Harry gathered that this was not a social call. He looked around for some escape route, but then decide that not only was there not any way open to him, it probably wasn't a very good idea to get the Headmaster angry with him for something so trivial. Dumbledore was already upset enough with him...he cringed at the thought of his last interview and obediently followed McGonagall.

McGonagall muttered the password so that Harry couldn't hear, which Harry thought rather odd, as no one had bothered to conceal it before. Then she stood aside for Harry to enter, which he did with some trepidation. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk and obviously expecting him. There was no paperwork in front of him and there was a rather large audience in attendance. However, none of them were living. Nearly- Headless Nick looked at him gravely, as did the Fat Friar and the Gray Lady, the Ravenclaw ghost. Even the Bloody Baron's sightless stare contained a little concern. Peeves and Moaning Myrtle were in attendance, as well, and there were several other ghosts that Harry didn't recognize. One sported a mohawk and looked at him with disdain, while another seemed to be a sweet little girl in a party dress who smiled with guileless innocence. A motherly lady looked at everyone with wordless compassion and concern and a kingly man stood beside her in an attitude of protection.

"Harry," Dumbledore said softly to regain his attention. "Harry, the ghosts of Hogwarts have brought a strange occurrence to my attention and your disappearance earlier leads me to believe that you might hold the answers. Could you tell me where you were when you disappeared earlier?" When Harry hesitated, since he didn't know exactly where he'd been, Dumbledore misinterpreted his silence and continued, "This information is so important that if you were somewhere outside the rules, I promise you will not be punished." There was almost a kind of desperation in the old man's face and Harry decided to describe his experience as best he could. Perhaps the information was important and Dumbledore could tell him more about the sword.

"I was just walking and I don't quite know where I was. I'd lost track and no matter how far I walked, it didn't seem as if I was getting anywhere. When I turned around to go back, it was the same and I never got back to the regular castle," Harry paused and considered telling him about the strange behavior of the Marauders' Map, but decided that he didn't want Dumbledore to know about the map, if he didn't already. If he did, he would ask about it. "I looked down and my footprints went over the same spot over and over for as far as I could see, so I figured that there was magic and I was going in circles. I went into a classroom and..." Harry told him all about the winged ghost and the sword and the eerie green light in her eyes. Dumbledore looked both more concerned and more joyful with every new revelation. "So, Professor, do you know what happened? I'm really confused," Harry concluded.

"Harry, you've once again surprised both me and probably everyone else in the wizarding world. That sword you found is a very old and rare relic that many fully trained witches and wizards were completely unable to locate, if, of course, I'm not mistaken, and the testimony of the ghosts hints that I'm not. I'd like to take a look at this sword of yours, if you don't mind. Where did you leave it?"

"By the couch in the common room. Ron fell down the stairs and I guess I just forgot about it," Harry said, embarrassed by his negligence with something Dumbledore said was quite valuable.

"Ah, well, no harm done, as the students are all still in classes. Unless, of course, some enterprising Gryffindor decided to cut class and then say they thought it was still Christmas vacation." Dumbledore smiled nostalgically. "I've had that one used more times than I can count. I'll send someone to go fetch it."

Dumbledore snapped his fingers and the small, servile, and very ugly form of a house elf appeared with a pop by his desk. "Would you please go to the Gryffindor common room and retrieve the sword which is lying on the table next to the couch in front of the fire? Once you have located it, bring it here immediately." The house elf disappeared with another pop and Dumbledore looked at Harry apologetically. "Bubo isn't the smartest of house elves, so I have to be very specific with him, but don't worry, he'll be back soon."

Sure enough, Bubo appeared again holding the rather large sword with difficulty and presented it to Professor Dumbledore, beaming with his accomplishment. Professor Dumbledore thanked him profusely and then sent him back to his regular work. The Headmaster was immediately engrossed in the runes on the hilt, muttering to himself in delight. It was then that Harry witnessed the intense love of knowledge that had prompted Albus Dumbledore to stay at Hogwarts for so very long. Finally, he looked up at Harry, beaming.

"I suppose you'll be wanting to know some things about your sword. I don't suppose you can read the runes? No, no, of course not, I believe you take Divination as your elective? Right, these runes on the hilt read 'Phantasma im Eraddia' which, in literal translation, means 'End of Spirits.' These designs here are binding spells which can be used at will on any creature associated with the spirit world, which would include ghosts, demons, many magical beasts such as unicorns, and even," his eyes twinkled mischievously, "poltergeists." Peeves looked very alarmed at that and ran to hide behind Nick.

"This sword," Dumbledore continued, "was created by a very powerful wizard in America at about the time of the Salem Witch Trials. While most of the witch hunts were indeed hysteria, there were some demons who specialized in possession and found fertile ground in the time period. This wizard got fed up with the whole idiocy and truth and lies and people hallucinating and so forth, so he created a weapon that could kill spirits and went on a rampage. Most of the demons who were stupid enough to amuse themselves with possessing young girls either got killed, or found other amusements. So the short and long of it is, Harry, that your sword can kill ghosts...or perhaps destroy would be a better term. It tears apart their substance exactly like a regular sword tears apart flesh. There were only about four of them made and the others were all destroyed many years ago."

Harry stared at him for a moment with his mouth gaping open, and then croaked, "Why do you keep calling it my sword? I just found it, it's not mine."

"Ah, but it is!" Dumbledore said triumphantly. It's been waiting for its wielder for a very long time and no one else would have been able to find it. To think, it's been right here all this time! I went looking for it myself, in my youth. Quite disappointed when I couldn't find it. Now, I can see you're not entirely up to this discussion right now," he said in response to Harry's blank, uncomprehending look, "so you just go back to your dormitory and take a nap. You can come back when you feel like having more questions answered." Harry got up numbly and made for the door. "Oh, and Harry," Dumbledore smiled, "don't forget your sword." Harry turned around and picked it up without conscious thought and then walked out the door and into the hallway past a very shocked Professor McGonagall. She just couldn't imagine why the Headmaster would gift a boy whom he had informed the staff might be mentally unstable with a sword.

~*~

Harry was walking down the hall towards Gryffindor Tower in a daze when he was accosted by Nearly Headless Nick, who was looking unaccountably nervous.

"I say, Harry, old chap, quite a magnificent find you've got there. I don't suppose you'd mind horribly doing me a little favor, would you?" Nick looked incredibly hopeful, and Harry couldn't refuse him.

"Sure, what do you want me to do for you, Nick?" Harry said, while fervently hoping that he wasn't going to be invited to another deathday party.

"Oh, it's just a little thing, really...You know how much I want to join the Headless Hunt, but they won't let me, the selfish things, because my head's still partially on." Harry started to see where this was going. "Would you mind just...whipping out that sword and cutting that last little bit through?"

Harry started feeling a little queasy, but he'd already agreed, hadn't he? He nodded and led Nick, who was nearly jumping for joy, into a nearby classroom. He carefully drew the sword and looked at Nick nervously. "Um, maybe you'd better...you know," Harry made a tugging motion near his ear; Nick nodded eagerly and tugged on his own ear so that his head was mostly off and Harry had a clear shot at the little bit of skin that was left. Harry hefted the sword and swung it through Nick's neck. He closed his eyes at the last second...he couldn't help it.

Nick shrieked as the sword went through his substance, but was left holding a severed head with a big grin in one hand. "That wasn't so bad! Thanks, Harry! I'm off to write a letter officially declaring myself beheaded." Nick swaggered off jauntily tossing his head from one hand to the other. Just before he left Harry's range of vision, he held up his head backwards and winked saucily. Harry smiled weakly and continued back to the common room at a slow walk. Then he remembered Ron's revelation and raced off at full speed, scrambling through the portrait hole and dashing up the stairs, practically breaking his neck in the process. He skidded to a halt in the doorway to his room and stared with horror.

"Ginny!" he gasped. He wasn't quite sure what he'd been expecting, but this certainly wasn't it.

~*~

A/N Oh, I feel so naughty right now. I bet you all want to read about the Harry/Ginny reunion and so forth...but I promise that'll be next chapter! I don't see how I could avoid it. Right now I have this awful little voice in my head whispering "Post, post, post!" so I need to get this chapter done so that it'll shut up. I have a history essay to write, for crying out loud! And then there are all those spiffy reviews. I love reviews. Any of my friends will tell you...I'm completely obsessed. One of the first things I say in a conversation is "Hey, I got however many reviews!" It's sad. But anyway, thanks to those wonderful people who made those conversations possible.

Julephenia: Thank you and you're welcome!

Bucky: Don't worry, it won't be too much longer now! She's going to become more...how shall I say this...'involved' with the plot...hehehe...but for the meantime, I'm keeping her a little innocent. Note 'for the meantime!'

EliCa: Thanks so much. Yeah, he is being a little weird, isn't he?

Emily: Thanks a bunch!

Jessica: Have no fears, it will continue. Thanks!

Bobina: Wow, what an awesome review! *blush* Thanks! And so perceptive as well! That's kind of a little side-mystery with the ghosts. It'll get explained next chapter probably, when Harry goes back to Dumbledore for some more info.

MoonBunni: Oodles of thanks!

Wow, it gets tough thinking of different ways to say thank you! I dunno when I'll have the next chapter up because my next week is brutal with schoolwork...I'll try to get it up as soon as possible, I promise!