*I'm a gun today – look at me updating! Hehe … thanks RaeJen, I actually read one of your stories before and was highly entertained. Go the fluff – this chappy's a bit sadder, I'm afraid. R&R … ~nm3x5s~

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Hermione was waiting on the steps of the library, as promised, with a fretful frown on her face. Ron was standing behind her with his arms folded, tapping his foot. When she saw Ginny, and Harry close behind, her features immediately softened with relief. She poked Ron, who looked up and waved at them.

Ginny took the stairs so fast that Harry practically had to run to catch up.

"Hey, what's happening, good ice-cream?" Ginny said quickly as she reached Hermione and Ron.

"Ah – yes," Ron said, a bit suspicious and squinting at Harry. Harry looked at his shoes. Hermione, catching the tension, immediately initiated an in-depth discussion of the library's new layout, which was boring enough to distract Ron.

"Let's not talk about it, anymore," he groaned. "What did you two do?" 

"Er – bought books," Harry said, gesturing with his shoulder at Ginny's pile, and lifting the paper bag of quills and ink he carried.

"That all?"

"We bumped into Malfoy."
Ron's jaw tightened. He shared his sister's views about the Malfoys, but Hermione's disapproving look stopped him saying anything.

"What's he doing? Is his arm better yet?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"Hope his arm falls off," Ron muttered, luckily out of Hermione's earshot.

"It's still in bandages. He seems alright."

At this point, Ron and Hermione, with the kind of telepathic communication they'd developed, looked at one another.

"Shall we ask?" Ron said.

Hermione bit her lip. "I still don't know if it's such a good idea."
Merlin, Harry thought wildly. 'Mione's told him I like Ginny and is about to spill the beans, or ask us something terribly embarrassing, though I can't think what that might be right at the moment.

Ron turned to Harry. "I don't know," he said. "You're the closest to him, so I guess it's up to you. We thought we might go and see Dumbledore in St Mungo's."
Oh, was Harry's first thought. Not about Ginny.

Voldemort was his second. If it wasn't for him, Dumbledore would be up and about right now, getting ready to return to Hogwarts for another year. He'd be alright. He wouldn't be – sick.

"Harry?" Hermione asked uncertainly. Even Ginny, who he didn't think he'd ever be able to look at again, was staring at him worriedly.

"I'm fine," he said shortly. "Sure, we can go and see him."

"Really?" Ron asked.

"Really. Sure. It'll be good to see him." He paused. "Are we allowed?"

"Mum said we shouldn't, but technically visitors are OK, I think."

"What if they don't let us in?" said Ginny, speaking for the first time since her super-speed opening line.

Ron snorted. "He's Harry Potter," he said, jerking his head Harry's way. "Who's not going to let him in?"

"We thought we'd Apparate," said Hermione. "We've all done our test, right? Oh, but what if we splinch ourselves? What then?" she wailed suddenly, plucking at Ron's arm.

He took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Hermione, if we're splinched, we're splinched," he said solemnly. "And at least we're headed for St Mungo's, where they've got the best chance of un-splinching us as anywhere."

It was a good point, and Hermione seemed mollified.

"Well," said Ron, "Let's put your things away in a library locker and then – shall we go?"

"What, now?" asked Harry, a bit taken aback. He wasn't even sure he really wanted to do this, and they were leaving now?

"When else?"

"I don't know." He glanced sidelong at Ginny, who was studiously looking away. He hardened himself. He's just an sick, old man, said inner monologue. You can handle that, can't you? "Alright."

The carried Ginny's things inside, easily found a spare locker, and then came back out onto the steps again. Harry was the first to initiate their departure.

"I guess I'll – see you there."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Harry concentrated, Apparated, was momentarily afraid that he'd splinched himself as he felt a sharp pain in his shin, and then realised that he was standing against the sharp edge of a chair. Embarrassed, he backed away from it, and then jumped when he heard a soft trill.

He turned. Standing on a perch beside him was Fawkes. He looked luminous, in his mid-stage, young and healthy and vibrant. Harry stroked his tail feathers and Fawkes cooed happily. He didn't want to look to the hospital bed, because he knew exactly who would be there.

He looked anyway. There was Dumbledore, lying unconscious, very thin and sick. He hadn't seen him before – he'd heard, in whispers, that he didn't look well – but this was beyond even his imagination. He looked so pale, and so … empty. That was it. He didn't look like Dumbledore anymore.

There was a loud crack, and Ginny Apparated beside him. She had her eyes shut tight. A few seconds after appearing, she opened them cautiously. The first thing she saw was Harry's grim face, and the second was Dumbledore. She gasped, and covered her mouth with her hand.

Harry moved closer to the bed. He could hear Dumbledore's rattling, shallow breathing – he sounded like he could slip away any minute. Harry stood beside him and hesitantly touched a hand. It was rough, an old man's hand, but also burning with sickly heat.

Harry clenched his jaw. He was angry. He was so angry, he wanted to smash something. Voldemort, he thought. Voldemort did this. Voldemort killed my parents and my friends, and Voldemort did this.

"Harry," Ginny said nervously, putting a hand on his shoulder. He whipped around to face her.

"Fucking Voldemort!" he spat.

She started, and then regained composure. "Listen …" she began, but he couldn't stand to hear her pity too, and exploded.

"No, you listen! You fucking listen, because I can't take it anymore! I killed him, but he's still alive, isn't he? He's still alive – in all of this! He did this to Dumbledore. Look how sick he is! He's never going to wake up. He took my parents away from me before I even knew who they were. He took Sirius, he took Lupin. He took your brother. He just took and took and took – and then he made me kill him. I killed him. Fuck, he made me kill him."

And with that, he found himself sobbing – great wracking sobs that made his whole body shake. He was so ashamed he couldn't look up, but just closed his eyes and wished he could stop.

Moments passed, and then he felt a soft hand on his forehead, and another around the back of his neck.

"Open your eyes," Ginny said.

He did so, still crying, and saw that Ginny was crying too.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I'm sorry that happened to you."
He looked into her face, her wet cheeks and bright eyes, and was convinced that she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He couldn't stop himself – he leaned forward and kissed her, hard, feeling her tears against his.

She didn't do anything at first, didn't move, and then was kissing him back, her hands in his hair. His slid his hands into hers  – it was soft, and warm, he could smell it again, and it made him dizzy. Her tongue was touching his.

They broke apart briefly.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ginny said, her voice hoarse.

"Oh yes," Harry replied fervently. He kissed her again. Fawkes cried out softly. She tasted so good, he didn't ever want to stop kissing her, but after a while he remembered air and had to halt briefly to breathe. He touched his forehead to her forehead and felt a tingling in his scar.

"Harry," she said, on an exhale. She wiped away the tears on his face with her thumbs.

"Ginny," he said in reply. He smiled shakily. She smiled too.

"We're right in front of Dumbledore," she said after a long, quiet moment.

"I know. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"It's alright."

"I wish I hadn't."

"I want you to. I want you to tell me everything." She kissed him once more, softly, slowly, so that he felt like his spine was melting. "I don't want you to be sad anymore."

I'll always be sad said his inner monologue bitterly.

But less so, he thought back, with her.

She threw her arms around him and hugged him hard. Ron and Hermione chose this moment to step into the room, arguing fiercely.

"Hey, I'm not the only one who went to Dumbly Door's sick-room instead of Dumbledore's. I'm not the only one who forgot to think his first name," Ron was protesting.

"Well it's just lucky they were at the same hospital, isn't it? And you were the one who led us down precisely the wrong corridor."

Ron, not listening anymore, hushed her and pointed at Harry and Ginny. Neither of them appeared to have heard their argument.

"What's this?" Ron said wonderingly.

"Harry?" Hermione asked loudly, a bit tentative.

Harry and Ginny jumped and broke apart. It was clear they'd been crying.

"Hi," he said. "You found us."

"Yeah. Are you – OK?"

"Fine," he said, raising his chin a bit defiantly. He looked at Ginny. "We're fine."

Ron put his hands on his hips, and for a moment looked distinctly like his mother. "Is there anything here I should know about?" he said pointedly.

Harry looked at Ginny, who shook her head imperceptibly. He didn't want to tell them either – not yet, at least. It had been such a personal thing, it wouldn't feel right to just blurt it out right there, right then.

"Nothing," Harry said.

"No, nothing," Ginny repeated.

Then Ron and Hermione saw Dumbledore, properly, and forgot all about Harry and Ginny. They moved to his bedside, Hermione with tears welling up in her eyes. Ron put his arm around her. Harry stood against the wall, looking alternately at Ginny and Dumbledore, and didn't know what to feel.

They stayed in Dumbledore's room for almost an hour. Then a nurse found them there, and they were ordered out.