A/N: Thanks to everyone who has been waiting so patiently for this
chapter!
Disclaimer: They're still not mine and probably never will be...
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"Now concentrate on your partner's thoughts, look deeply into their eyes, and clear your own mind to receive theirs."
Professor Trelawney dropped lazily onto one of the large poufs in the front of her room, sighing as she surveyed her students. It was the first day of their mind-reading section, and six students had paired themselves off, leaving one oddball. Professor Trelawney had graciously offered to partner Neville, who was looking quite terrified at the prospect of having his undoubtedly rotten and terrified future predicted, even if they weren't trying to see oncoming events in this lesson. She motioned for him to join her on the pouf, and he went reluctantly.
The other six students were scattered across the room in pairs. Parvati and Lavender were, of course, at the front of the room on two poufs of their own. They were sitting on their knees facing toward each other and gazing at each other in such an intense way that, had Harry not known better, would have made him think that they were about to engage in a passionate kiss. Dean and Seamus had taken it upon themselves to sit on top of one of the few desks Trelawney had in her room. They were cross- legged, facing each other, and both quite obviously taking the assignment much more lightly than the girls. Seamus had his hands on Dean's forehead, massaging his temples, and making a rather loud humming sound as they rocked back and forth together, both struggling to keep straight faces.
Harry was sitting at one of the back tables with Ron. They, of course, were taking the assignment no more seriously than their roommates.
"Take off your glasses. I can't see your eyes properly," Ron said jokingly as he reached over and pulled the glasses from his best friend's face.
"Well, now I can't see anything properly," Harry said pointedly, grabbing them back and sliding them back into place. "And besides," he said smoothly, "I'm not sure that I want to know what you're thinking."
Ron rolled his eyes, and Dean pulled away from Seamus and jumped off the table to join Harry and Ron. He stood behind Ron and placed his hands on either side of his head.
"Hmm..." he said mystically. "I see a girl... Brown hair... Brown eyes..." Seamus had joined the table and was now snickering loudly with Harry who was even able to find humor in the situation. "And what's this?" Dean closed his eyes as if concentrating very hard. "Oh... It's a book. The girl has a book..."
Ron shrugged him off and glared at the other three boys who all seemed to be quite amused by the little display. "You can all go to hell," he said airily. This only caused them to laugh even louder.
"Is there a problem, boys?" Professor Trelawney looked away from Neville who still appeared beyond terrified. Parvati and Lavender turned around with looks on their faces that showed they absolutely did not appreciate having their concentration broken.
Dean, Seamus, Harry, and Ron all tried to quiet down, but it was useless. Trying to be solemn only made the situation seem even funnier, and they were laughing again before Trelawney even stood up and joined them.
"I don't remember assigning a group project," she said pointedly.
Seamus grinned at her and said, "Well, we'd all mastered the partner mind reading, so we wondered if we could conquer it in a group of four." His roommates were all trying desperately to hold back their laughs.
"Oh, really?" Professor Trelawney studied them from behind her horn-rimmed glasses. "Well, if you've already mastered it, then, by all means, I'd appreciate a demonstration."
Seamus nodded and looked very intently at Dean, who was pinching himself in order to keep a straight face. "He's thinking... He's just thinking about how much he enjoys this class. And... He's thinking about how beautiful you are, Professor Trelawney."
Dean looked beyond disgusted. Harry and Ron immediately turned their backs on the room and covered their mouths tightly. Seamus just beamed.
"Is this correct, Mr. Thomas?" she asked, her voice softened three-fold.
Dean sent a warning look at his best friend before turning to the teacher and nodding sweetly. "Yes, exactly, Professor Trelawney."
"Twenty-five points to Gryffindor!" she announced brightly. Then she clarified her award by saying, "For the quick mastery of a very difficult skill. Good job, boys!"
She turned and made her way back to Neville, who had been watching the whole display in his own amusement. The second her back was turned, Dean slugged Seamus rather hard across the shoulder, causing the Irish boy to grab his arm and say, "Ow!" before erupting into laughter. Harry and Ron couldn't control their own laughter, either, and before long, all four of them were snickering once again.
The rest of the class went on like that, and when Professor Trelawney dismissed them for their next lesson, all of the boys were still bursting out with random bouts of sniggering.
Lavender rounded on them as the group made their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts. "You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves!" she admonished seriously. "Professor Trelawney is a seasoned professional, and you shouldn't be having her on like that."
"If she's such a seasoned professional," Ron said with raised eyebrows, "then wouldn't she know if someone was having her on?"
Parvati turned around then and glared at him. "Oh, you be quiet, Ron," she verbally italicized his name to add emphasis to her disgust.
"So sorry, Parvati," he said back in the same accented way. The guys all started laughing again.
"I'll be glad when you all finally grow up," she continued icily.
"And I'll be glad when you finally shut up," Dean said between hiccupped laughter.
Parvati turned her glare on Dean then. "You should be nice to me," she said pointedly. "I have a lot of influence on my sister."
Lavender nodded in agreement and linked arms with her best friend. The two of them sent disapproving looks at their male housemates once more before turning and walking off haughtily.
All five of the Gryffindor boys watched with varying degrees of appreciation as the girls stalked away, their hips swinging rather nicely under their skirts.
"Well, they're officially put off with us," Seamus said, sighing in a way that indicated he really didn't care too much.
"No more Lavender for you," Dean said with a roll of the eyes. "Such a pity, too. She's so interesting."
"She is," Seamus said seriously. "Quite interesting... She does some very... intelligent... things with her mouth."
All five of them snickered at the expense of their female housemates. It was Seamus who continued the conversation. "At least if they want to war, it's six against two."
"I only count five," Harry said, glancing around at his roommates.
"You've forgotten Hermione," Seamus said pointedly.
"Last time I checked," Ron said just as pointedly, "Hermione was a girl."
"So, you've been checking, have you?" Dean shoved Ron playfully. Seamus burst into laughter, and even Harry found a smile playing on his lips.
"Shut up." Ron rolled his eyes.
"And anyway," Seamus went on, calming down from his laughing fit. "I would hope that Hermione likes you two better than those two," he said nodding first at Harry and Ron and them motioning forward at the girls' rapidly retreating backs.
"She does like them," Ron said seriously. "Apparently they've become quite good friends all of a sudden."
"And I thought Hermione was so smart..." Dean shook his head in disbelief.
When they reached Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Lupin was already waiting inside the classroom for them. He looked up when the class filed in and grinned at them. "How was Divination?" he asked good- naturedly.
"Fantastic!" Seamus exclaimed. "I got us twenty-five house points."
"Yes, for lying," Lavender said with a look of disgust.
Seamus blew her an air kiss across the room, which only caused her rage to show even more prominently on her face.
Lupin rolled his eyes as the boys all found this little display quite amusing and ended up laughing again for the millionth time that afternoon.
"You lot certainly seem to be in a good mood," he observed, standing up from his desk and going over to a table that was covered in graded assignments.
"Well, you know how it is," Ron said, snickering. "Dean put us in this mood when he confessed his love for Professor Trelawney."
More laughter ensued, and Dean threw a quill at Ron's head. The bewildered expression covering the teacher's face did not fade.
The door opened again, and the last member of the class hurried in. Hermione looked, as she always did when entering this classroom, quite breathless and tired from her long hike across the castle where her Arithmancy class was held. She started to head to her normal place at the table with her best friends, but she stopped when Parvati called her name. She and Lavender were waving her over, and, with a very confused look, Hermione made her way over and joined them, sitting down at their table and turning toward them for an explanation.
All five of the boys' mouths dropped open immediately.
The professor snickered.
"Let's begin, shall we?" he asked, breaking the stunned silence. "Does someone want to hand back these papers?" he asked, motioning to the pile of work on the table. Neville and Seamus stood up and volunteered, splitting the stack between them and getting to work handing back the assignments.
Five minutes later, Harry had six grades in his possession, not one of which was the least bit impressive. The sullen look on Ron's face at least lifted his spirits somewhat; he wasn't the only one displeased with their marks. Hermione, on the other hand, looked quite content with her own, and when she turned questioningly in their direction, both boys sent her a rather rude look. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the other girls, who were whispering to her intently as the last of the papers were being distributed.
That day's lesson was interesting to say the very least.
Professor Lupin put them each under the Imperius Curse one at a time, and everyone quite enjoyed watching their classmates try to fight it off. Hermione had gotten rather good at resisting it, and she only gave one tiny hop when she was instructed to reenact a number from the Russian ballet. Neville recited the alphabet in Greek- forwards and backwards. And Parvati came incredibly close to cutting off her waist-length plait, but Lavender had jumped up and loudly demanded that someone stop her, so Professor Lupin had snatched the scissors away at the last minute.
After the class was dismissed and everyone was started making their way for the door, Hermione finally joined the boys, snatching up the graded papers they were about to pack into their bags and tsking pointedly.
Ron snatched the papers back just as quickly and thrust Harry's back to their owner. "Don't be so nosy," he said seriously.
Hermione looked as if she was about to retort with something snide, but she was interrupted as Lupin called their attention. Three heads turned in his direction, and he glanced around to make sure that all of the other students had filed out.
"How does the Shrieking Shack at one o'clock sound?" He was obviously being careful not to mention any names or anything like that, as you could never be too sure who was listening in a place like Hogwarts.
Harry nodded, already quite excited about the prospect of seeing his godfather for the first time in seven months. "Do you know how long he'll get to stay?"
Lupin shook his head. "I expect as long as he can."
"Will you be there, too, Professor?" Hermione asked, slinging her bag across her chest.
But he shook his head again, this time looking rather sorry. "No. There has to be a certain number of teachers in both Hogsmeade and at Hogwarts, and tomorrow, I have to stay here."
Harry wanted to feel bad that his teacher wasn't getting the opportunity to see his one of his old best friends, but a tiny selfish part of Harry realized that without Lupin, more of Sirius's attention would be placed on his godson.
After saying goodbye to their professor, Harry, Ron, and Hermione started their journey back through the castle toward Gryffindor Tower. They were making mindless small talk until Hermione, after minutes of seeming distant and distracted, finally sighed loudly enough to draw both boys' attention.
"What's up with you?" Ron asked, peering at her strangely.
Hermione glanced at the wall to her side as they continued to walk. After a moment in which both boys waited for her reply, she finally said, "I just have a really bad feeling."
"Hermione, the Potions test isn't until Tuesday. It's the weekend!" Ron rolled his eyes slightly in Harry's direction.
Hermione, however, just shook her head. "No. I mean I have a bad feeling about tomorrow. I just feel like something really horrible is going to happen."
"Like what?" Harry looked at her, not ready to fully believe her but at least curious as to what she thought she was feeling.
"I don't know," she said quietly. "But maybe we shouldn't meet up with Sirius tomorrow."
"Hermione, you worry too much." Ron looked expectantly at Harry for some back-up.
He got it when Harry nodded. "Yeah. It's probably nothing. Maybe you're just hungry."
As soon as he'd said the words, he realized how stupid they sounded, but Ron seemed to think hunger was a perfectly logical explanation.
"Yeah. Dinner's in a couple of hours. I'm sure you'll feel better then."
"I'm not hungry," she said insistently. "I don't know what it is, but it's just weird."
Nothing else was spoken of Hermione's feeling. Ron and Harry both brushed it off as typical Hermione behavior, and she seemed a bit embarrassed by it anyway.
***************************** After sending a letter to Gia, Harry reentered the Common Room late Friday night and stopped immediately in his tracks. Ginny Weasley was sitting on the floor, slumped against the back of the sofa; she had her knees drawn to her chest, and she was staring blankly into space. No one else was in sight.
"Ginny?" he asked cautiously as he set the Cloak down onto a table and walked over to the sofa. "Are you okay?"
Growing apprehensive when she gave no sign of even hearing him, Harry knelt down in front of her and placed a slightly shaking hand on her shoulder. "Ginny?"
Almost instantly upon his touch, Ginny started and seemed to wake up. Her eyes were unfocused, and a weak, "Harry?" was the only sign that she had come back to reality.
"What's wrong?" Harry ducked his head slightly in an attempt to bring himself into her eye-line. She didn't appear to be able to give an answer, and she closed her eyes briefly, all traces of color draining from her already pale cheeks. "Ginny?"
And then it was back to her earlier state. Her eyes fluttered open, but they stared aimlessly at something in front of her. Harry glanced around, wondering if he should go get help but also afraid to leave her. He noticed that Ginny was suddenly looking incredibly small and very much like the little girl she had been when he'd first met her, and something incredibly protective triggered in him.
Harry placed his arms under Ginny's and carefully stood up, pulling her into a standing position and struggling slightly under her weight. "Can you hear me?" he asked quietly, leaning against the back of the sofa for support. When she gave no attempt at an answer, Harry tried moving her around to the front of the sofa. It was hard maneuvering with Ginny a complete dead-weight in his arms, but he finally managed to move them enough so that he could set Ginny down on the sofa and lean her against the armrest.
It wasn't the first time he'd had a lifeless Ginny in his arms. Memories from his second year floated back into his mind, and he was reminded strongly of the way he'd struggled to lift Ginny from the floor of the Chamber of Secrets. It had been one of the most terrifying moments of his life, walking into the darkness of the Chamber and thinking for a few horrifying moments that he had been too late and had let his best friend's little sister die.
"Ginny," he shook her gently. "Wake up. Come on, Ginny. Please."
Her eyes fluttered open once again, and huge pools of brown stared back at him as though in a haze. She stared at him, obviously lost in confusion, for a long moment.
And then she started to cry.
Harry had absolutely no idea what in the world to do with a crying girl. The only girls he really had any relation to were Hermione, obviously, and Gia. Ron always seemed to be better at handling Hermione when she was upset, and even though Gia had cried a few times in front of him, he'd always felt so strongly connected to her that taking care of her tears had seemed to come naturally.
Nervously, Harry reached out and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand against Ginny's shoulder. He wasn't even sure if he was allowed to touch her at all. Was it okay to comfort someone who wasn't your girlfriend and also happened to be your best friend's only sister? Obviously it was because Ginny didn't push him away or duck away from his touch. If anything, though, she seemed to cry even harder.
"Are you okay?" he asked shakily, having no idea what else to do.
She didn't answer him, just drew in deep, wavering breaths mixed with the hiccups of her tears.
Not wanting to leave her alone but definitely not wanting to be the one left to take care of her, Harry asked her if she wanted him to do anything.
"Will you get my brother?" she asked in a tiny, tiny voice that Harry could barely hear.
"Which one?" Harry pushed a stray strand of red away from her face without even thinking about it.
"Ron!" she said suddenly. "Please don't tell Fred and George!" Her eyes were wide and panicked, and Harry wondered why she was so frightened by the prospect of having the twins know.
But he nodded nonetheless. "I won't," he whispered.
She looked relieved for a second but started crying again right away.
Harry watched her for only a split second before standing up from the sofa. "Just stay here," he told her quietly. "And I'll go get Ron."
She nodded but didn't reply.
Harry raced up the stairs to the Fifth Year boys' dormitory and entered the room without bothering to be quiet. All of his roommates were asleep, but he was concerned with only one of them.
"Ron!" He pulled back the half-closed curtains around his best friend's bed and reached down to shake him awake. "Ron, get up."
Ron mumbled something incoherent and rolled over without waking up.
Harry groaned in exasperation and shook him harder. "Ron, wake up! Something's wrong with Ginny!"
This was all it took.
Ron sat up immediately, suddenly wide-awake. He looked up at his best friend with the same panicked look that Ginny had just given him. "What's wrong with her?"
Harry shook his head. "I don't know. I found her in the Common Room, and it was like she was in some sort of trance or something. And then she woke up and just started crying!"
Ron didn't wait to hear anymore, and without bothering to even attempt quietness, he ran from the dormitory and headed for the stairs.
Harry raced after him, but stopped at the bottom of the stairway and watched from across the room as Ron rushed to his sister and dropped onto the couch beside her. She immediately started crying even harder as she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. Ron, looking thoroughly terrified himself, gently ran a hand down her tangled hair and turned his head to gaze at her. "Shh..." he soothed quietly. "Ginny, what happened?"
She just shook her head and continued to cry, never lifting her face from its place against the front of his shirt.
Ron waited for a few moments, obviously trying to give her time to calm down. However, when she gave no sign of coming anywhere close to calming down, he pulled away from her slightly, holding her shoulders in his hands and forcing her to look at him. "What is wrong?" he asked again, accenting each word separately.
Harry watched the exchange silently, unaware if Ron knew he'd followed him downstairs or not. He wasn't about to join them, though, because he had a very strong suspicion that whatever was wrong with Ginny was something she only wanted to share with Ron. She had, after all, been quite adamant about Harry not even going for Fred or George, and they were her flesh and blood.
Ginny was shaking, trembling as she tried to draw in unsteady breaths in an obvious attempt to get calm enough to answer her brother's question. Once again, Harry was reminded of the way she'd looked in the Chamber of Secrets. She'd cried then, too; in fact, she'd been as close to hysteria as was humanly possible. Harry wondered if he should go back upstairs; this was obviously supposed to be a private conversation. His curiosity wouldn't let him, though, and he was also genuinely concerned.
"Ginny, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong." Ron wasn't being short with his sister, but he was speaking sharply enough to somehow force a response out of her.
"I..." Ginny shook her head and was quiet for a moment, drawing in several long breaths. "It's happening again." Her first coherent sentence was so quiet Harry wasn't even positive that he'd heard correctly.
Ron obviously shared his confusion because he tilted his head slightly and asked for a more sensible clarification. "What's happening again?"
Ginny started crying again, though this time she thankfully wasn't sobbing uncontrollably. This time, she was crying quietly in a way that proved at least one thing. Whatever was happening again was terrifying her.
"Gin, come on," Ron said quietly. "Just tell me."
Ginny looked up then, her brown eyes wider than Harry could ever remember seeing them. Her cheeks were streaked red with the trail of innumerable tears, and her hair was knotted and wild. The tears had stopped again, but her voice was as hollow as it had been before.
"He's back. I can feel him."
Something heavy settled in Harry's stomach, and he hoped beyond hope that his gut feeling was wrong.
"Who?" Ron asked the question after a moment's delay; his tone of voice made it clear that he was hoping the same thing.
Ginny swallowed once and looked down at her lap. In little more than a whisper, she managed to answer. "Riddle. You... Voldemort."
Harry was shocked. Never before had he heard any member of the Weasley family say Voldemort's name; he granted, of course, that he hadn't had too many conversations about him with any of them other than Ron, but it still surprised him. What surprised him even more was the sharp revelation that hit him full-force for the first time.
Virginia Weasley was the only other person besides himself who Voldemort had set out to kill and failed. It was Voldemort in a different time, yes, but it was the Dark Lord nonetheless. This fact had been staring him in the face for four years, and he had somehow never noticed it.
His momentary shock faded quickly, though, and it was replaced by a feeling that couldn't quite be classified as fear but was as close to the emotion as it was possible to come. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, but he knew that it was an almost sickening feeling; he felt as if he wanted to throw up.
"Ginny..." Ron looked as if he was trying to sort out the best way to go about addressing his sister's confession. His face showed a mix of emotions, that of a concerned sympathizer, that of an overprotective older brother, and that of a terrified fifteen year old boy.
"I'm not lying, Ron," she said quietly.
"Did you have a nightmare or what?" he asked, obviously grasping for anything that might make her words easier to digest.
She shook her head, still trembling slightly. "No. Not really... I mean, I was asleep, but I woke up. And..." She broke off and looked away toward the fireplace.
"And what?"
"And I could feel him," she whispered. Then she shook her head. "You don't understand."
"I'm trying to understand," Ron said desperately. "But I don't know what you mean when you say you could feel him. You felt like he was here? Like in Hogwarts?"
She shook her head again. "No. Like he was back inside of me." She put her hands to her face and ran them backwards through her hair, grabbing at the tangles behind her head. "When I had the diary," she paused and took another breath. "When I had the diary, I used to wake up in the middle of the night and know that he needed me."
"Needed you?" Ron was apparently getting quite creeped out, but he was trying nonetheless.
Ginny pulled her knees up to her chest and sat facing Ron on the sofa. It took her another long moment to get her thoughts in order. "I tried to get rid of that thing so many times," she said quietly. "I really did."
"I know," Ron answered back just as quietly. Harry knew that he was remembering the day they'd found the diary in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
"I tried to throw it away. I tried to hide it. I tried to make it disappear." She shrugged. "But nothing worked because I kept waking up in the middle of the night and going to find it."
"Why did you do that if you wanted to get rid of it?"
Ginny bit down on her lower lip and looked away once more. "Because he would make me," she whispered. "I'd wake up and feel him and have no control over it."
Harry watched silently as Ginny started to cry again. He wondered fleetingly how Ron knew to just let her cry; it certainly seemed that that was what she needed at the moment. Ron just sat aside wordlessly as she cried the last of that bout of tears, and he hugged her gently when it appeared that she was done.
After he'd pulled away again, he looked at her in a way Harry wasn't used to seeing Ron look at Ginny. He was looking at her in the same way he'd looked at her the moment he'd pulled her through the cleared rocks at the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets- like he really, truly loved her. The relationship between the two youngest Weasley siblings was something that had always perplexed Harry. He knew, of course, that, excepting Fred and George, they were closer in age than any of the other siblings were to each other; only eleven months separated them, as Ginny would be turning fifteen the very next week. He also knew that they'd apparently been quite close when they were younger, both having a common enemy- the twins. He also knew, obviously, that they shared a very special bond that only siblings could. What he didn't know, though, was why they fought so much, especially lately. Ron and Hermione had always fought, too, but that, Harry supposed, had always been leading up to where they were now. With Ginny and Ron, though, it was different. They fought in a way that was native to brothers and sisters; they could be yelling at each other and kicking each other one minute and then laughing together over something the very next. It was something that Harry didn't understand, and he knew somehow that he would never understand it; he knew this for one main reason. He would never, ever have any siblings to experience that sort of arguing with.
When Ginny was calmer, Ron started talking again in a very hushed voice that Harry had to strain to hear. "How could you feel that way now, though? That diary was destroyed three years ago."
"I know that." She pushed some more of her messy hair out of her face. "But it was the same feeling. I thought... I thought he was gone."
"He is, Ginny," Ron said seriously.
But Ginny just shook her head. "No. He's not. Maybe his sixteen year old memory is gone, but You... but Voldemort is back." She drew in a wavering voice. "And I can feel him."
Ron didn't flinch at the name, and Harry wondered if maybe he was accepting the fact that fearing a name was senseless. He didn't worry with this question for too long, though, because he was far more concerned with what Ginny had just said.
She could feel him.
Harry could feel him, too, when he was close enough. In fact, when he'd been face to face with Voldemort, his scar had nearly burned his forehead to death. It wasn't hurting now, though, and Harry had taken that as a good sign- a sign that he was nowhere near Hogwarts and therefore no real threat at the moment.
Maybe he was just being naive.
Voldemort was always a threat, close or not, and Harry was simply in denial if he allowed himself to think otherwise.
What scared him the most, though, was the fact that he wasn't the only person who could sense the Dark Lord's presence. And the fact that Ginny seemed to be able to pick up on it even more acutely than Harry could scared him beyond belief. But, then again, he'd had never been possessed by the bastard, either. Yes, Harry had some of Voldemort's powers just as Voldemort had some of Harry's blood, but he'd never been taken over as Ginny had; he'd never had Voldemort controlling all of his thoughts and actions.
"Maybe we ought to owl Mum and Dad." Ron sounded thoroughly worried now, and Harry caught the way he was regarding Ginny with the utmost of care.
But Ginny was adamant in her refusal. "No!" She sat up immediately and looked at him wild-eyed. "Ron, please! You can't tell Mum and Dad!"
"But, Ginny..."
"You can't tell them!" she said urgently. "They'll just worry, and they might even make me go home or something. Just swear you won't tell them."
"But..."
"Please, Ron," she said seriously. "Just swear, okay?"
There was a moment of silence before Ron finally nodded rather reluctantly. "I swear."
Ginny looked at him gratefully. "And don't tell Fred and George, either, because you know how they'll act. They'll start treating me like I'm a fragile little baby, and I'm not." Her eyes were still wide. "I'm not," she repeated firmly.
"I know you're not," he said quietly. It was ironic, though, because Ron was perhaps the most overprotective out of any of her brothers and yet he was the only one who really knew she wasn't just a little girl anymore.
"So, you won't tell?"
Ron shook his head. "I won't tell under one condition."
Ginny sighed. Apparently, all promises in the Weasley family came with conditions. "What condition?" she asked dully.
"I won't tell, but you have to go to Madame Pomfrey tonight."
"But I'm fine now!"
Ron was adamant, though, and he shook his head. "You know good and well that you won't go back upstairs and go to sleep. Madame Pomfrey can give you a dreamless sleep potion."
"But tomorrow is a Hogsmeade trip." Ginny almost sounded rather pitiful.
However, Ron seemed immune to her pity pleas. "You can go some other time. If you don't go to the infirmary tonight, I'll write home to Mum and Dad."
"Fine." She huffed up a bit and glared at him briefly, but Harry noticed that she didn't struggle too much when Ron pulled her to her feet. He watched wordlessly as the siblings headed for the exit of the Common Room and left through the portrait hole.
Going back to his bed seemed an odd thing to do. He couldn't exactly sleep after witnessing Ginny's tearful confession, so he went over to one of the good chairs by the fire and sat in silence.
Ron returned about an hour later, looking tired and worried. He stopped when he saw his best friend waiting up.
"Is she okay?" Harry stood up and crossed the room to the entrance where Ron had stopped.
Nodding slightly, Ron looked away. "Yeah. She'll be fine."
That was all the explanation given. Harry knew at once that Ron had no idea about the eavesdropping. He also realized that Ron wasn't about to spill any of Ginny's secrets.
There was something incredibly noble about this.
Harry just nodded. "Well, good. I was just, you know, worried about her."
"Yeah." Ron started walking back to the dormitory stairs. He stopped for a second and turned around. "Hey, can you do me a favor and not mention tonight to anyone?"
Harry nodded again. "Yeah, sure."
Ron forced a grateful half-smile and disappeared up the stairs, leaving Harry once again alone in the Common Room.
As he reflected on the night's events, he realized something. He was, not for the first time, jealous of his best friend. He'd witnessed something tonight that he would never get a chance to experience.
The bond of a brother and a sister.
Despite the factors surrounding the events, Harry couldn't help but wonder what it was like to have something like that with someone.
He knew, though, that he would never have the opportunity to find out.
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Those of you that are members of the Yahoo! group know that the original version of this chapter gotten eaten by my computer. This is what I could remember, and I hope that it turned out close to what the original was.
I would adore feedback, of course!
Disclaimer: They're still not mine and probably never will be...
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"Now concentrate on your partner's thoughts, look deeply into their eyes, and clear your own mind to receive theirs."
Professor Trelawney dropped lazily onto one of the large poufs in the front of her room, sighing as she surveyed her students. It was the first day of their mind-reading section, and six students had paired themselves off, leaving one oddball. Professor Trelawney had graciously offered to partner Neville, who was looking quite terrified at the prospect of having his undoubtedly rotten and terrified future predicted, even if they weren't trying to see oncoming events in this lesson. She motioned for him to join her on the pouf, and he went reluctantly.
The other six students were scattered across the room in pairs. Parvati and Lavender were, of course, at the front of the room on two poufs of their own. They were sitting on their knees facing toward each other and gazing at each other in such an intense way that, had Harry not known better, would have made him think that they were about to engage in a passionate kiss. Dean and Seamus had taken it upon themselves to sit on top of one of the few desks Trelawney had in her room. They were cross- legged, facing each other, and both quite obviously taking the assignment much more lightly than the girls. Seamus had his hands on Dean's forehead, massaging his temples, and making a rather loud humming sound as they rocked back and forth together, both struggling to keep straight faces.
Harry was sitting at one of the back tables with Ron. They, of course, were taking the assignment no more seriously than their roommates.
"Take off your glasses. I can't see your eyes properly," Ron said jokingly as he reached over and pulled the glasses from his best friend's face.
"Well, now I can't see anything properly," Harry said pointedly, grabbing them back and sliding them back into place. "And besides," he said smoothly, "I'm not sure that I want to know what you're thinking."
Ron rolled his eyes, and Dean pulled away from Seamus and jumped off the table to join Harry and Ron. He stood behind Ron and placed his hands on either side of his head.
"Hmm..." he said mystically. "I see a girl... Brown hair... Brown eyes..." Seamus had joined the table and was now snickering loudly with Harry who was even able to find humor in the situation. "And what's this?" Dean closed his eyes as if concentrating very hard. "Oh... It's a book. The girl has a book..."
Ron shrugged him off and glared at the other three boys who all seemed to be quite amused by the little display. "You can all go to hell," he said airily. This only caused them to laugh even louder.
"Is there a problem, boys?" Professor Trelawney looked away from Neville who still appeared beyond terrified. Parvati and Lavender turned around with looks on their faces that showed they absolutely did not appreciate having their concentration broken.
Dean, Seamus, Harry, and Ron all tried to quiet down, but it was useless. Trying to be solemn only made the situation seem even funnier, and they were laughing again before Trelawney even stood up and joined them.
"I don't remember assigning a group project," she said pointedly.
Seamus grinned at her and said, "Well, we'd all mastered the partner mind reading, so we wondered if we could conquer it in a group of four." His roommates were all trying desperately to hold back their laughs.
"Oh, really?" Professor Trelawney studied them from behind her horn-rimmed glasses. "Well, if you've already mastered it, then, by all means, I'd appreciate a demonstration."
Seamus nodded and looked very intently at Dean, who was pinching himself in order to keep a straight face. "He's thinking... He's just thinking about how much he enjoys this class. And... He's thinking about how beautiful you are, Professor Trelawney."
Dean looked beyond disgusted. Harry and Ron immediately turned their backs on the room and covered their mouths tightly. Seamus just beamed.
"Is this correct, Mr. Thomas?" she asked, her voice softened three-fold.
Dean sent a warning look at his best friend before turning to the teacher and nodding sweetly. "Yes, exactly, Professor Trelawney."
"Twenty-five points to Gryffindor!" she announced brightly. Then she clarified her award by saying, "For the quick mastery of a very difficult skill. Good job, boys!"
She turned and made her way back to Neville, who had been watching the whole display in his own amusement. The second her back was turned, Dean slugged Seamus rather hard across the shoulder, causing the Irish boy to grab his arm and say, "Ow!" before erupting into laughter. Harry and Ron couldn't control their own laughter, either, and before long, all four of them were snickering once again.
The rest of the class went on like that, and when Professor Trelawney dismissed them for their next lesson, all of the boys were still bursting out with random bouts of sniggering.
Lavender rounded on them as the group made their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts. "You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves!" she admonished seriously. "Professor Trelawney is a seasoned professional, and you shouldn't be having her on like that."
"If she's such a seasoned professional," Ron said with raised eyebrows, "then wouldn't she know if someone was having her on?"
Parvati turned around then and glared at him. "Oh, you be quiet, Ron," she verbally italicized his name to add emphasis to her disgust.
"So sorry, Parvati," he said back in the same accented way. The guys all started laughing again.
"I'll be glad when you all finally grow up," she continued icily.
"And I'll be glad when you finally shut up," Dean said between hiccupped laughter.
Parvati turned her glare on Dean then. "You should be nice to me," she said pointedly. "I have a lot of influence on my sister."
Lavender nodded in agreement and linked arms with her best friend. The two of them sent disapproving looks at their male housemates once more before turning and walking off haughtily.
All five of the Gryffindor boys watched with varying degrees of appreciation as the girls stalked away, their hips swinging rather nicely under their skirts.
"Well, they're officially put off with us," Seamus said, sighing in a way that indicated he really didn't care too much.
"No more Lavender for you," Dean said with a roll of the eyes. "Such a pity, too. She's so interesting."
"She is," Seamus said seriously. "Quite interesting... She does some very... intelligent... things with her mouth."
All five of them snickered at the expense of their female housemates. It was Seamus who continued the conversation. "At least if they want to war, it's six against two."
"I only count five," Harry said, glancing around at his roommates.
"You've forgotten Hermione," Seamus said pointedly.
"Last time I checked," Ron said just as pointedly, "Hermione was a girl."
"So, you've been checking, have you?" Dean shoved Ron playfully. Seamus burst into laughter, and even Harry found a smile playing on his lips.
"Shut up." Ron rolled his eyes.
"And anyway," Seamus went on, calming down from his laughing fit. "I would hope that Hermione likes you two better than those two," he said nodding first at Harry and Ron and them motioning forward at the girls' rapidly retreating backs.
"She does like them," Ron said seriously. "Apparently they've become quite good friends all of a sudden."
"And I thought Hermione was so smart..." Dean shook his head in disbelief.
When they reached Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Lupin was already waiting inside the classroom for them. He looked up when the class filed in and grinned at them. "How was Divination?" he asked good- naturedly.
"Fantastic!" Seamus exclaimed. "I got us twenty-five house points."
"Yes, for lying," Lavender said with a look of disgust.
Seamus blew her an air kiss across the room, which only caused her rage to show even more prominently on her face.
Lupin rolled his eyes as the boys all found this little display quite amusing and ended up laughing again for the millionth time that afternoon.
"You lot certainly seem to be in a good mood," he observed, standing up from his desk and going over to a table that was covered in graded assignments.
"Well, you know how it is," Ron said, snickering. "Dean put us in this mood when he confessed his love for Professor Trelawney."
More laughter ensued, and Dean threw a quill at Ron's head. The bewildered expression covering the teacher's face did not fade.
The door opened again, and the last member of the class hurried in. Hermione looked, as she always did when entering this classroom, quite breathless and tired from her long hike across the castle where her Arithmancy class was held. She started to head to her normal place at the table with her best friends, but she stopped when Parvati called her name. She and Lavender were waving her over, and, with a very confused look, Hermione made her way over and joined them, sitting down at their table and turning toward them for an explanation.
All five of the boys' mouths dropped open immediately.
The professor snickered.
"Let's begin, shall we?" he asked, breaking the stunned silence. "Does someone want to hand back these papers?" he asked, motioning to the pile of work on the table. Neville and Seamus stood up and volunteered, splitting the stack between them and getting to work handing back the assignments.
Five minutes later, Harry had six grades in his possession, not one of which was the least bit impressive. The sullen look on Ron's face at least lifted his spirits somewhat; he wasn't the only one displeased with their marks. Hermione, on the other hand, looked quite content with her own, and when she turned questioningly in their direction, both boys sent her a rather rude look. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the other girls, who were whispering to her intently as the last of the papers were being distributed.
That day's lesson was interesting to say the very least.
Professor Lupin put them each under the Imperius Curse one at a time, and everyone quite enjoyed watching their classmates try to fight it off. Hermione had gotten rather good at resisting it, and she only gave one tiny hop when she was instructed to reenact a number from the Russian ballet. Neville recited the alphabet in Greek- forwards and backwards. And Parvati came incredibly close to cutting off her waist-length plait, but Lavender had jumped up and loudly demanded that someone stop her, so Professor Lupin had snatched the scissors away at the last minute.
After the class was dismissed and everyone was started making their way for the door, Hermione finally joined the boys, snatching up the graded papers they were about to pack into their bags and tsking pointedly.
Ron snatched the papers back just as quickly and thrust Harry's back to their owner. "Don't be so nosy," he said seriously.
Hermione looked as if she was about to retort with something snide, but she was interrupted as Lupin called their attention. Three heads turned in his direction, and he glanced around to make sure that all of the other students had filed out.
"How does the Shrieking Shack at one o'clock sound?" He was obviously being careful not to mention any names or anything like that, as you could never be too sure who was listening in a place like Hogwarts.
Harry nodded, already quite excited about the prospect of seeing his godfather for the first time in seven months. "Do you know how long he'll get to stay?"
Lupin shook his head. "I expect as long as he can."
"Will you be there, too, Professor?" Hermione asked, slinging her bag across her chest.
But he shook his head again, this time looking rather sorry. "No. There has to be a certain number of teachers in both Hogsmeade and at Hogwarts, and tomorrow, I have to stay here."
Harry wanted to feel bad that his teacher wasn't getting the opportunity to see his one of his old best friends, but a tiny selfish part of Harry realized that without Lupin, more of Sirius's attention would be placed on his godson.
After saying goodbye to their professor, Harry, Ron, and Hermione started their journey back through the castle toward Gryffindor Tower. They were making mindless small talk until Hermione, after minutes of seeming distant and distracted, finally sighed loudly enough to draw both boys' attention.
"What's up with you?" Ron asked, peering at her strangely.
Hermione glanced at the wall to her side as they continued to walk. After a moment in which both boys waited for her reply, she finally said, "I just have a really bad feeling."
"Hermione, the Potions test isn't until Tuesday. It's the weekend!" Ron rolled his eyes slightly in Harry's direction.
Hermione, however, just shook her head. "No. I mean I have a bad feeling about tomorrow. I just feel like something really horrible is going to happen."
"Like what?" Harry looked at her, not ready to fully believe her but at least curious as to what she thought she was feeling.
"I don't know," she said quietly. "But maybe we shouldn't meet up with Sirius tomorrow."
"Hermione, you worry too much." Ron looked expectantly at Harry for some back-up.
He got it when Harry nodded. "Yeah. It's probably nothing. Maybe you're just hungry."
As soon as he'd said the words, he realized how stupid they sounded, but Ron seemed to think hunger was a perfectly logical explanation.
"Yeah. Dinner's in a couple of hours. I'm sure you'll feel better then."
"I'm not hungry," she said insistently. "I don't know what it is, but it's just weird."
Nothing else was spoken of Hermione's feeling. Ron and Harry both brushed it off as typical Hermione behavior, and she seemed a bit embarrassed by it anyway.
***************************** After sending a letter to Gia, Harry reentered the Common Room late Friday night and stopped immediately in his tracks. Ginny Weasley was sitting on the floor, slumped against the back of the sofa; she had her knees drawn to her chest, and she was staring blankly into space. No one else was in sight.
"Ginny?" he asked cautiously as he set the Cloak down onto a table and walked over to the sofa. "Are you okay?"
Growing apprehensive when she gave no sign of even hearing him, Harry knelt down in front of her and placed a slightly shaking hand on her shoulder. "Ginny?"
Almost instantly upon his touch, Ginny started and seemed to wake up. Her eyes were unfocused, and a weak, "Harry?" was the only sign that she had come back to reality.
"What's wrong?" Harry ducked his head slightly in an attempt to bring himself into her eye-line. She didn't appear to be able to give an answer, and she closed her eyes briefly, all traces of color draining from her already pale cheeks. "Ginny?"
And then it was back to her earlier state. Her eyes fluttered open, but they stared aimlessly at something in front of her. Harry glanced around, wondering if he should go get help but also afraid to leave her. He noticed that Ginny was suddenly looking incredibly small and very much like the little girl she had been when he'd first met her, and something incredibly protective triggered in him.
Harry placed his arms under Ginny's and carefully stood up, pulling her into a standing position and struggling slightly under her weight. "Can you hear me?" he asked quietly, leaning against the back of the sofa for support. When she gave no attempt at an answer, Harry tried moving her around to the front of the sofa. It was hard maneuvering with Ginny a complete dead-weight in his arms, but he finally managed to move them enough so that he could set Ginny down on the sofa and lean her against the armrest.
It wasn't the first time he'd had a lifeless Ginny in his arms. Memories from his second year floated back into his mind, and he was reminded strongly of the way he'd struggled to lift Ginny from the floor of the Chamber of Secrets. It had been one of the most terrifying moments of his life, walking into the darkness of the Chamber and thinking for a few horrifying moments that he had been too late and had let his best friend's little sister die.
"Ginny," he shook her gently. "Wake up. Come on, Ginny. Please."
Her eyes fluttered open once again, and huge pools of brown stared back at him as though in a haze. She stared at him, obviously lost in confusion, for a long moment.
And then she started to cry.
Harry had absolutely no idea what in the world to do with a crying girl. The only girls he really had any relation to were Hermione, obviously, and Gia. Ron always seemed to be better at handling Hermione when she was upset, and even though Gia had cried a few times in front of him, he'd always felt so strongly connected to her that taking care of her tears had seemed to come naturally.
Nervously, Harry reached out and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand against Ginny's shoulder. He wasn't even sure if he was allowed to touch her at all. Was it okay to comfort someone who wasn't your girlfriend and also happened to be your best friend's only sister? Obviously it was because Ginny didn't push him away or duck away from his touch. If anything, though, she seemed to cry even harder.
"Are you okay?" he asked shakily, having no idea what else to do.
She didn't answer him, just drew in deep, wavering breaths mixed with the hiccups of her tears.
Not wanting to leave her alone but definitely not wanting to be the one left to take care of her, Harry asked her if she wanted him to do anything.
"Will you get my brother?" she asked in a tiny, tiny voice that Harry could barely hear.
"Which one?" Harry pushed a stray strand of red away from her face without even thinking about it.
"Ron!" she said suddenly. "Please don't tell Fred and George!" Her eyes were wide and panicked, and Harry wondered why she was so frightened by the prospect of having the twins know.
But he nodded nonetheless. "I won't," he whispered.
She looked relieved for a second but started crying again right away.
Harry watched her for only a split second before standing up from the sofa. "Just stay here," he told her quietly. "And I'll go get Ron."
She nodded but didn't reply.
Harry raced up the stairs to the Fifth Year boys' dormitory and entered the room without bothering to be quiet. All of his roommates were asleep, but he was concerned with only one of them.
"Ron!" He pulled back the half-closed curtains around his best friend's bed and reached down to shake him awake. "Ron, get up."
Ron mumbled something incoherent and rolled over without waking up.
Harry groaned in exasperation and shook him harder. "Ron, wake up! Something's wrong with Ginny!"
This was all it took.
Ron sat up immediately, suddenly wide-awake. He looked up at his best friend with the same panicked look that Ginny had just given him. "What's wrong with her?"
Harry shook his head. "I don't know. I found her in the Common Room, and it was like she was in some sort of trance or something. And then she woke up and just started crying!"
Ron didn't wait to hear anymore, and without bothering to even attempt quietness, he ran from the dormitory and headed for the stairs.
Harry raced after him, but stopped at the bottom of the stairway and watched from across the room as Ron rushed to his sister and dropped onto the couch beside her. She immediately started crying even harder as she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. Ron, looking thoroughly terrified himself, gently ran a hand down her tangled hair and turned his head to gaze at her. "Shh..." he soothed quietly. "Ginny, what happened?"
She just shook her head and continued to cry, never lifting her face from its place against the front of his shirt.
Ron waited for a few moments, obviously trying to give her time to calm down. However, when she gave no sign of coming anywhere close to calming down, he pulled away from her slightly, holding her shoulders in his hands and forcing her to look at him. "What is wrong?" he asked again, accenting each word separately.
Harry watched the exchange silently, unaware if Ron knew he'd followed him downstairs or not. He wasn't about to join them, though, because he had a very strong suspicion that whatever was wrong with Ginny was something she only wanted to share with Ron. She had, after all, been quite adamant about Harry not even going for Fred or George, and they were her flesh and blood.
Ginny was shaking, trembling as she tried to draw in unsteady breaths in an obvious attempt to get calm enough to answer her brother's question. Once again, Harry was reminded of the way she'd looked in the Chamber of Secrets. She'd cried then, too; in fact, she'd been as close to hysteria as was humanly possible. Harry wondered if he should go back upstairs; this was obviously supposed to be a private conversation. His curiosity wouldn't let him, though, and he was also genuinely concerned.
"Ginny, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong." Ron wasn't being short with his sister, but he was speaking sharply enough to somehow force a response out of her.
"I..." Ginny shook her head and was quiet for a moment, drawing in several long breaths. "It's happening again." Her first coherent sentence was so quiet Harry wasn't even positive that he'd heard correctly.
Ron obviously shared his confusion because he tilted his head slightly and asked for a more sensible clarification. "What's happening again?"
Ginny started crying again, though this time she thankfully wasn't sobbing uncontrollably. This time, she was crying quietly in a way that proved at least one thing. Whatever was happening again was terrifying her.
"Gin, come on," Ron said quietly. "Just tell me."
Ginny looked up then, her brown eyes wider than Harry could ever remember seeing them. Her cheeks were streaked red with the trail of innumerable tears, and her hair was knotted and wild. The tears had stopped again, but her voice was as hollow as it had been before.
"He's back. I can feel him."
Something heavy settled in Harry's stomach, and he hoped beyond hope that his gut feeling was wrong.
"Who?" Ron asked the question after a moment's delay; his tone of voice made it clear that he was hoping the same thing.
Ginny swallowed once and looked down at her lap. In little more than a whisper, she managed to answer. "Riddle. You... Voldemort."
Harry was shocked. Never before had he heard any member of the Weasley family say Voldemort's name; he granted, of course, that he hadn't had too many conversations about him with any of them other than Ron, but it still surprised him. What surprised him even more was the sharp revelation that hit him full-force for the first time.
Virginia Weasley was the only other person besides himself who Voldemort had set out to kill and failed. It was Voldemort in a different time, yes, but it was the Dark Lord nonetheless. This fact had been staring him in the face for four years, and he had somehow never noticed it.
His momentary shock faded quickly, though, and it was replaced by a feeling that couldn't quite be classified as fear but was as close to the emotion as it was possible to come. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, but he knew that it was an almost sickening feeling; he felt as if he wanted to throw up.
"Ginny..." Ron looked as if he was trying to sort out the best way to go about addressing his sister's confession. His face showed a mix of emotions, that of a concerned sympathizer, that of an overprotective older brother, and that of a terrified fifteen year old boy.
"I'm not lying, Ron," she said quietly.
"Did you have a nightmare or what?" he asked, obviously grasping for anything that might make her words easier to digest.
She shook her head, still trembling slightly. "No. Not really... I mean, I was asleep, but I woke up. And..." She broke off and looked away toward the fireplace.
"And what?"
"And I could feel him," she whispered. Then she shook her head. "You don't understand."
"I'm trying to understand," Ron said desperately. "But I don't know what you mean when you say you could feel him. You felt like he was here? Like in Hogwarts?"
She shook her head again. "No. Like he was back inside of me." She put her hands to her face and ran them backwards through her hair, grabbing at the tangles behind her head. "When I had the diary," she paused and took another breath. "When I had the diary, I used to wake up in the middle of the night and know that he needed me."
"Needed you?" Ron was apparently getting quite creeped out, but he was trying nonetheless.
Ginny pulled her knees up to her chest and sat facing Ron on the sofa. It took her another long moment to get her thoughts in order. "I tried to get rid of that thing so many times," she said quietly. "I really did."
"I know," Ron answered back just as quietly. Harry knew that he was remembering the day they'd found the diary in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
"I tried to throw it away. I tried to hide it. I tried to make it disappear." She shrugged. "But nothing worked because I kept waking up in the middle of the night and going to find it."
"Why did you do that if you wanted to get rid of it?"
Ginny bit down on her lower lip and looked away once more. "Because he would make me," she whispered. "I'd wake up and feel him and have no control over it."
Harry watched silently as Ginny started to cry again. He wondered fleetingly how Ron knew to just let her cry; it certainly seemed that that was what she needed at the moment. Ron just sat aside wordlessly as she cried the last of that bout of tears, and he hugged her gently when it appeared that she was done.
After he'd pulled away again, he looked at her in a way Harry wasn't used to seeing Ron look at Ginny. He was looking at her in the same way he'd looked at her the moment he'd pulled her through the cleared rocks at the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets- like he really, truly loved her. The relationship between the two youngest Weasley siblings was something that had always perplexed Harry. He knew, of course, that, excepting Fred and George, they were closer in age than any of the other siblings were to each other; only eleven months separated them, as Ginny would be turning fifteen the very next week. He also knew that they'd apparently been quite close when they were younger, both having a common enemy- the twins. He also knew, obviously, that they shared a very special bond that only siblings could. What he didn't know, though, was why they fought so much, especially lately. Ron and Hermione had always fought, too, but that, Harry supposed, had always been leading up to where they were now. With Ginny and Ron, though, it was different. They fought in a way that was native to brothers and sisters; they could be yelling at each other and kicking each other one minute and then laughing together over something the very next. It was something that Harry didn't understand, and he knew somehow that he would never understand it; he knew this for one main reason. He would never, ever have any siblings to experience that sort of arguing with.
When Ginny was calmer, Ron started talking again in a very hushed voice that Harry had to strain to hear. "How could you feel that way now, though? That diary was destroyed three years ago."
"I know that." She pushed some more of her messy hair out of her face. "But it was the same feeling. I thought... I thought he was gone."
"He is, Ginny," Ron said seriously.
But Ginny just shook her head. "No. He's not. Maybe his sixteen year old memory is gone, but You... but Voldemort is back." She drew in a wavering voice. "And I can feel him."
Ron didn't flinch at the name, and Harry wondered if maybe he was accepting the fact that fearing a name was senseless. He didn't worry with this question for too long, though, because he was far more concerned with what Ginny had just said.
She could feel him.
Harry could feel him, too, when he was close enough. In fact, when he'd been face to face with Voldemort, his scar had nearly burned his forehead to death. It wasn't hurting now, though, and Harry had taken that as a good sign- a sign that he was nowhere near Hogwarts and therefore no real threat at the moment.
Maybe he was just being naive.
Voldemort was always a threat, close or not, and Harry was simply in denial if he allowed himself to think otherwise.
What scared him the most, though, was the fact that he wasn't the only person who could sense the Dark Lord's presence. And the fact that Ginny seemed to be able to pick up on it even more acutely than Harry could scared him beyond belief. But, then again, he'd had never been possessed by the bastard, either. Yes, Harry had some of Voldemort's powers just as Voldemort had some of Harry's blood, but he'd never been taken over as Ginny had; he'd never had Voldemort controlling all of his thoughts and actions.
"Maybe we ought to owl Mum and Dad." Ron sounded thoroughly worried now, and Harry caught the way he was regarding Ginny with the utmost of care.
But Ginny was adamant in her refusal. "No!" She sat up immediately and looked at him wild-eyed. "Ron, please! You can't tell Mum and Dad!"
"But, Ginny..."
"You can't tell them!" she said urgently. "They'll just worry, and they might even make me go home or something. Just swear you won't tell them."
"But..."
"Please, Ron," she said seriously. "Just swear, okay?"
There was a moment of silence before Ron finally nodded rather reluctantly. "I swear."
Ginny looked at him gratefully. "And don't tell Fred and George, either, because you know how they'll act. They'll start treating me like I'm a fragile little baby, and I'm not." Her eyes were still wide. "I'm not," she repeated firmly.
"I know you're not," he said quietly. It was ironic, though, because Ron was perhaps the most overprotective out of any of her brothers and yet he was the only one who really knew she wasn't just a little girl anymore.
"So, you won't tell?"
Ron shook his head. "I won't tell under one condition."
Ginny sighed. Apparently, all promises in the Weasley family came with conditions. "What condition?" she asked dully.
"I won't tell, but you have to go to Madame Pomfrey tonight."
"But I'm fine now!"
Ron was adamant, though, and he shook his head. "You know good and well that you won't go back upstairs and go to sleep. Madame Pomfrey can give you a dreamless sleep potion."
"But tomorrow is a Hogsmeade trip." Ginny almost sounded rather pitiful.
However, Ron seemed immune to her pity pleas. "You can go some other time. If you don't go to the infirmary tonight, I'll write home to Mum and Dad."
"Fine." She huffed up a bit and glared at him briefly, but Harry noticed that she didn't struggle too much when Ron pulled her to her feet. He watched wordlessly as the siblings headed for the exit of the Common Room and left through the portrait hole.
Going back to his bed seemed an odd thing to do. He couldn't exactly sleep after witnessing Ginny's tearful confession, so he went over to one of the good chairs by the fire and sat in silence.
Ron returned about an hour later, looking tired and worried. He stopped when he saw his best friend waiting up.
"Is she okay?" Harry stood up and crossed the room to the entrance where Ron had stopped.
Nodding slightly, Ron looked away. "Yeah. She'll be fine."
That was all the explanation given. Harry knew at once that Ron had no idea about the eavesdropping. He also realized that Ron wasn't about to spill any of Ginny's secrets.
There was something incredibly noble about this.
Harry just nodded. "Well, good. I was just, you know, worried about her."
"Yeah." Ron started walking back to the dormitory stairs. He stopped for a second and turned around. "Hey, can you do me a favor and not mention tonight to anyone?"
Harry nodded again. "Yeah, sure."
Ron forced a grateful half-smile and disappeared up the stairs, leaving Harry once again alone in the Common Room.
As he reflected on the night's events, he realized something. He was, not for the first time, jealous of his best friend. He'd witnessed something tonight that he would never get a chance to experience.
The bond of a brother and a sister.
Despite the factors surrounding the events, Harry couldn't help but wonder what it was like to have something like that with someone.
He knew, though, that he would never have the opportunity to find out.
***************************
Those of you that are members of the Yahoo! group know that the original version of this chapter gotten eaten by my computer. This is what I could remember, and I hope that it turned out close to what the original was.
I would adore feedback, of course!
