Chapter 8

Harry looked at Dean and felt a whorl of emotions. Part of him wanted to pound Dean into the castle floor, another part sympathized with him, yet another part of him didn't know what he wanted to do to Dean, but he knew he wanted away from him. "Dean, I can't. Not now, perhaps not ever."

Dean turned and looked up the corridor.

"But I guarantee one thing." His voice had been soft, confused. It had changed to the hard commanding voice he used when he needed to be free of his emotions. "If you so much as touch her again, I'll sever whatever part of you makes contact with her, am I clear?"

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Crystal, Potter." He turned and walked down the stairs away from the tower. Harry stood guard there until he heard the door open hours later.

-------------------- Harry's Office Two Days Later ----------------------

            Harry was going over the information he had in front of him. Ron was watching him expectantly. Harry glanced up at Dumbledore. "How did you manage this all the bloody time?"

            Dumbledore smiled. "I had plenty of help. You are shouldering far too much of this Harry."

            Harry sighed. "Perhaps you're right."

            "Of course he's right whelp." Phineas Nigellus said sharply.

            "Turpentine will work on you too." Harry glared at the painting, he turned to Ron. "When I die promise me you'll not let them put me up there." He jerked his thumb up at the paintings. "I don't want to spend eternity with them."

            "You've no choice lad! You think we are here because we enjoy it? It's part of the position of Headmaster."

            Harry sighed "I'm going for a walk." He snatched up the rolls of parchment and left, Ron following him closely grinning like mad.

            A few minutes later the door opened slowly. Ginny walked in and looked around furtively. "Harry?"

            "He's left on a walk Ms. Weasley." Dumbledore said.

            She glared at the painting. "It's Mrs. Potter, thank you."

            "Oh, of course, what was I thinking?" Dumbledore smiled at her. "Is there anything I can do for you Mrs. Potter?"

            Phineas Looked shrewdly at the young lady in front of him. "Oh yes, I remember you. You stayed at my grandson's place, and played kissy-face with that whelp." He waved his hand in the direction of the desk. "Wait one minute! You said Potter? You married him?"

            Ginny shifted her glare to Phineas. "What of it?"

            Phineas looked over at Dumbledore. "You never said they were married. Why that would fit…"

            "Phineas, kindly shut up." A witch next to him said sharply, her eyes on Ginny. "Phineas is getting on in years Mrs. Potter." The witch said as way of explanation. "He sometimes forgets things told to him." Her glare would have killed Phineas if he weren't dead already.

            Phineas sniffed loudly and stalked off. "Off to brood in Grimmauld Place, no doubt." Dumbledore sighed.

            Another witch snorted. "Well missy, you missed the lad, though I daresay he's been pining for you for a while now."

            Ginny looked up at the middle-aged witch and cocked her head. "How long?"

            She settled back in her chair and steeped her fingers. "Well…"

            Dumbledore glared across the room. "Enough Esmeralda! We have interfered enough in these young people's lives."

            The witch made a rude gesture hat took Ginny by surprise. "The lass has a right to know Albus. Personally I don't wash with this whole prophecy hogwash. They have a right to some peace."

            Dumbledore muttered under his breath still glaring at her. The witch shot back an evil look. "Don't you take that tone with me young man! I died before your grandfather soiled his first nappy!"

            Ginny, frustrated slammed the door as she left the office. Leaving the portraits to their own insane devices. She was grousing when she ran into someone. "Watch where you bloody well are going!" She looked up into Ron's face.

            He looked at her with barely hidden amusement. "Been to see the quibbling art gallery then?"

            "Merlin! Why doesn't he take those bloody things down! They are insane, every last one of them, and Dumbledore is the king of the lot!"

            "Actually they do come in handy you know. It was the portraits that saved dad in 5th year, remember?" He face showed the signs of remembrance.

            "Yeah, Harry was so sure he had done it, you remember how torn up he was?" Her eyes focused on the past.

            Shortly she pulled her self back to the here and now. "I guess. But still, can't he place them somewhere else?"

            "Nope, we tried. He was going to have a hall dedicated to the headmasters, but they kept getting the house elves to relocate them back in the office. I kept the fight up for almost a year, and finally conceded." Ginny spun around to face Harry.

            Her eyes lit up and she positively glowed in his presence. "What did Dumbledore mean by Turpentine?"

            Harry blushed, and looked to the floor. "I threaten them with paint solvent; turpentine is the muggle word for it. It keeps the more rowdy in check." He looked up and grinned.

            Ginny looked at him in a new light. But then again Harry was always like that. A fast thinker, perhaps not as book smart as Hermione, or as logical a thinker as Ron, but in his own way, Harry possessed a quality that was unique. He could get a grip on a situation tons faster than Ron or Hermione. While his reactions were based more on his heart than his head, there were times when that was what they had needed.