Chapter Forty-One: Lost and Found

Harry held Ginny close as he watched Ron pace back and forth relentlessly. Hermione stood back from her boyfriend slightly and worried her hands, but was otherwise silent.

They'd been in Professor McGonagall's office for the past forty-five minutes, but it felt like hours. Already they were missing the morning lesson, but none of them seemed to care. McGonagall had given Harry, Ginny and Hermione only the barest details and had hurried away; Ron filled them in with everything else, looking sick the entire time. He seemed to be pacing not simply to try and calm his nerves, but the obvious nausea that was written on his face.

Harry's own mind was racing with the horror of learning all that had happened: the Burrow destroyed; Lee Jordan dead; Fred and George kidnapped and their store ransacked. And at the moment, none of the people in McGonagall's office knew whether the other Weasleys were alive or dead.

Harry felt Ginny tremble in his arms and he hugged her more tightly. She'd wept despondently upon first learning of Fred and George's abduction; now she was whimpering softly, and the depths of her anguish pierced Harry's very skin like a thousand hot needles. He had never felt more wretched for her or for Ron.

They've got Fred and George. He's going to torture them and take their blood, and when he's done with them...

'Harry, don't,' Ginny whispered, a small sob in her voice.

Harry bit his lip; even if Ginny couldn't read his thoughts, she could feel his emotions.

Idiot. Here you are thinking the worst and she can sense it. You have to be the strong one now.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered back. 'I'm sorry.' He placed a kiss on her forehead and stroked her hair, and forced himself to think positive thoughts.

Fred and George will be fine; Ron'll find them. And the other Weasleys, they'll get out in time, I know it...

As if a higher power was answering at least part of Harry's desires, the door to McGonagall's office swung open. The Headmistress strode in quickly, followed by a very sallow and tired-looking Professor Snape, and behind him...

'Mum! Dad!'

Ginny yanked herself from Harry's arms and flung herself at her parents, who crushed her to them in a three-way hug. Ron let out a strangled sort of sound and followed, and the three-way hug became a hug of four, with Ron towering over all of them and struggling not to cry. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were a bit of a mess; Mr. Weasley had a mean cut along his forehead that was covered with a bandage; Mrs. Weasley sported an ugly bruise along her right cheek, and both had torn their robes. But they looked as thought they'd been cleaned and patched up.

In the next moment, Harry felt the tightness in his chest ease further by the appearance of Charlie and Percy. The two Weasleys hugged their younger siblings in turn, and before long almost everyone in the room was crying; Harry pressed his lips together to hold back the tears that threatened, and instead reached for Hermione and put an arm round her shoulder; she leaned into him and sniffled. The two Weasley sons, too, were the worst for wear; Percy's cane appeared to have been snapped in two at some point, and haphazardly put back together. Charlie's arm was wrapped in gauze, and Percy had a cut over his eyebrow.

'What happened?' Ginny was saying, clinging to her father now.

'They attacked headquarters,' Mr. Weasley said gravely, patting his daughter's hair. 'We got out just in time. Severus reached us right before the Death Eaters. I can't believe they found the place, we were so careful with keeping the location hidden--'

'Dad,' Ron interrupted, looking around at his family. His voice was hoarse. 'Where's Bill?'

Mrs. Weasley's face became stricken, and Mr. Weasley frowned grimly.

'In hospital,' he said. 'At St. Mungo's. He and Fleur were on their way to headquarters and got ambushed. We were able to get them out, but...'

At this, Mrs. Weasley began to cry softly.

'What?' Ron said desperately.

'Bill's fine,' said Mr. Weasley, letting go of Ginny and pulling Mrs. Weasley into his arms. 'Just got a broken leg. But Fleur...they hit her with a few curses, I don't know what they were...they were still working on her when we left Bill. That's why it took so long to get here, see.'

Ginny had a hand over her mouth for a moment, and then lowered it.

'The baby?' she whispered.

'They said Fleur would recover but...they're not sure if they can save the baby,' said Mr. Weasley gravely, and his voice broke a little.

'And Fred and George?' Ron pressed. 'What about them?'

'Kingsley has two teams of Aurors searching the area around the store,' said McGonagall firmly. 'I'm afraid...the store was levelled. There was no trace of your brothers when the Aurors got there. They only found...Mr. Jordan.'

At this, McGonagall's voice, too, shook slightly.

'He's dead, isn't he?' said Ron dully.

'Yes,' said McGonagall. 'The Killing Curse. There wasn't a mark on his body. The only saving grace is that he went quickly.'

Ron snorted and turned away; he looked and sounded disgusted by it all.

'They hit everything,' Charlie said, his voice low and dangerous. 'The store, our house...burned to the bloody ground--'

'I don't care about the house!' Mrs. Weasley cried suddenly, and she began to bawl. 'I only care about...my boys...my god, where are my sons? Arthur...'

Harry bit his lip as Mrs. Weasley's knees gave out and she sank against her husband; Mr. Weasley held her up, and Charlie went to his mother.

'It'll be okay, Molly,' Mr. Weasley said, his voice wavering. 'Please don't.'

'Mum, sit down here,' Charlie urged, as the two men led Mrs. Weasley to a nearby chair.

'Severus,' said McGonagall, 'would you have Poppy come up here, please?'

Snape, whose expression was distinctly uncomfortable at all the grief happening in the room, nodded briskly to McGonagall and swept from the room.

McGonagall addressed the rest of them. 'I need to get a message to the Ministry right now,' she said heavily. 'I need to speak with Minister Bones. I'll be back shortly. You all can stay here for the moment. Potter, you and your friends are excused from lessons today.'

She turned on her heel and started out of the office, and then turned back to the Weasleys. Harry felt a pang when he saw McGonagall's eyes shine with tears.

'I'm so sorry this has happened,' she said, before leaving the room in silence.

The soft click of the door was muffled against Mrs. Weasley's quiet crying.

'Where are they?' Mrs. Weasley was sobbing quietly, leaning against Mr. Weasley. 'Where are my boys?'

'We'll get them back, Mum,' said Charlie, and Percy hobbled gingerly on his cane toward his mother.

'Charlie's right, Mum,' he said. 'We'll find them.'

Mrs. Weasley could only sob and nod her head as Charlie and Percy knelt down and hugged their mother.

Harry watched it all with a heart so heavy, it felt like there was a boulder in his chest. At some point, Ginny had moved back into his arms; he struggled to think better thoughts again, for her sake, but he couldn't quite manage it, not when Ginny's own emotions were flowing into him. He settled for just holding onto her, which seemed to be enough for her as she buried her face into his shoulder. Hermione had walked to Ron, who was facing the wall and leaning his forehead against it; she gripped his hand but said nothing.

It was Ron who spoke first.

'They know it's me,' he said, his forehead still leaning against the wall.

'W-what?' said Mrs. Weasley, wiping her eyes.

Ron didn't appear to pay attention to his mother; when he turned round he looked directly at Harry.

'They know it's me,' he said again, and his blue eyes glittered with anger, and his ears went pink.

Harry felt his body tense.

'How do you know?' he asked tentatively, keeping his eyes fixed on Ron, but suddenly Ron turned away harshly and pounded his right fist into his left palm.

'Dammit!' he snarled. 'I'm such an idiot! Last night...Nott told me last bloody night and I didn't say anything! I could have gone to Professor McGonagall last night and stopped all of this!'

'Ron, don't,' said Ginny. 'We all blew it off, it wasn't just you.'

'What's going on?' Charlie asked, looking bewildered.

Ron snorted again and looked at her. 'Yeah, but I was there when Nott made the threat. Right in front of my face, he said it!'

'Ron, you couldn't have foreseen it, you can't see everything, Firenze said--' Hermione began.

'I know what Firenze said!' Ron yelled, his voice breaking. 'It's not good enough, Hermione. They know it's me and I know they must have tricked me, okay? I know it! But that's not good enough! Nott warned me last night! I should have gone straight to Professor McGonagall with it and I didn't. Don't try to tell me this wasn't my fault, Hermione!'

'It isn't your fault, Ron,' Mr. Weasley said, looking as lost as his wife and two older sons. 'How could it be?'

'Because I'm a Seer, dad, that's why!' Ron yelled. 'I'm supposed to see this stuff coming, especially given that it's my family that's involved here! And even if I couldn't have foreseen what happened this morning I damn well had a warning last night!'

Ron was breathing hard now, and furious tears sprang to his eyes.

'It's my fault,' he croaked, and he turned away from them, his shoulders sagging in shame as he wiped his eyes.

Harry's heart was hurting, and yet he was stunned. Ron had blurted out the secret he'd had to keep for the better part of eight months. His family was all staring at him in awe and confusion.

'Back up,' said Charlie slowly. 'What do you mean, you're a Seer?'

Ron snarled and waved a hand, as if to say that the very subject made him ill. Hermione spoke instead.

'He's a Seer,' said Hermione. 'And a really good one, when he's not beating up on himself. He's the one who found out about you, Charlie. Ron saw the Death Eaters attack you, before it happened. That's how you got rescued in time. He would have told you sooner but Dumbledore thought it was safer to keep it a secret at the time, only now that Voldemort seems to know about Ron you all might as well, too.'

Ron stared at Hermione, his mouth gaping.

'Merlin,' Mr. Weasley breathed. 'Is it really true? Ron...'

Ron started to speak but Hermione beat him to it.

'Yes,' she said forcefully. 'It all came out after the brain attack during fifth year. Dumbledore thought the attack triggered the gift. Like it was there all along but dormant or something. Ron started having visions the summer after fifth year and he kept on having them in sixth year but he didn't know what they meant, and nobody really suspected it. Nobody except Dumbledore. I didn't even believe it at first but after seeing what Ron can do--'

'Hermione...' said Ron, his voice full of warning.

'He's a great Seer,' Hermione continued, her voice trembling. 'He has a real gift, he's helped a lot of people and nobody knew about it because it had to be a secret. He stopped a bunch of attacks last year, and he was the one who found Anthony Goldstein. If it weren't for Ron, Anthony would probably be dead.'

'Hermione, stop,' Ron begged.

'No, I won't!' said Hermione furiously, as her eyes filled. 'I knew this would happen, Ron, I knew you'd blame yourself the minute McGonagall told us what happened to Fred and George...and to Lee...and to the rest of your family, and you have to stop!'

'I didn't find Pansy in time, did I? Or Karkaroff,' Ron retorted.

'No, you didn't,' Hermione shot back. 'And it's horrible that you couldn't help save them but you've done so much for other people Ron. You saved Charlie all those months ago. You saved most of your family today. Don't you dare cheapen that by wallowing in self-doubt!'

Everyone gaped at Hermione and Ron; the two of them no longer seemed to even be aware that others were in the room.

'And yes, Fred and George...what happened was terrible but they could be alive right now, and if they are they need you!' she went on. 'And it's terrible what happened to Lee but you can't dwell on everything you weren't able to do! You have to focus on what you have to do!'

Hermione was panting and red-cheeked now, and Ron's mouth now started to open and close like a fish.

Harry watched them and felt a sudden warmth in his chest. He was used to seeing Hermione try to boss Ron around, but now it was different. There was all the usual exasperation in her voice that always was evident when Ron was being stubborn, but there was something else, too: a fierce love that seemed to radiate out of Hermione's very skin. She would bellow at Ron if it meant dragging him back from the morass of guilt he'd sat down in.

Harry felt Ginny stir next to him, and he looked down at her; she was watching her older brother and Hermione look at each other, and Harry realized that Ginny was feeling the same warmth, the same sense that somehow, things just might be okay.

Ron's lower lip suddenly trembled slightly, and again, Harry wondered if his best mate might just break down, but instead he just looked a bit lost. Hermione crossed to him and pulled him into a fierce hug, and he gave a strangled sort of groan and clutched her to him. He whispered something into Hermione's hair--Harry couldn't tell what it was--and after a long moment, they pulled apart.

Nobody seemed to know what to say; everyone was staring at Ron. But he seemed to be gathering himself, and Harry was relieved to see some of the old determination cross Ron's freckled face.

'Right. I need something of theirs,' he said. 'Something personal.'

'What?' said Mrs. Weasley, clearly confused. 'What do you mean?'

'Something of Fred and George's,' said Ron, and then his face fell. 'Damn. I guess there wouldn't be much, would there, with the house...blown up, and their store...and Grimmauld Place...'

He paused, and then his face lit up. 'Their flat!' he burst out. 'Of course!' And before anyone could say another word, Ron bolted from McGonagall's office. He went out the door, and then popped back in.

'Er...be right back, just have to check something,' he said.

'Ron, don't you dare think about going--' Hermione started.

'I'm not,' said Ron. 'Just going to find McGonagall, er, Professor McGonagall. See you in a few!'

Ron's family gawped as he disappeared out the door.

'Now what's he doing?' Percy asked, sounding mystified.

Harry met Percy's eyes. 'He's going to find Fred and George.'

'Do you think he can?' said Mrs. Weasley fearfully.

'He won't rest until he does,' said Harry.

McGonagall returned to the office with Madam Pomfrey, and some news. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Charlie and Percy would be moved to a 'safehouse' designated by none other than Amelia Bones. In the meantime, a team of Aurors would go to the Burrow and comb through the wreckage for anything salvageable. This news made Harry's stomach twist again, and he'd felt Ginny sag against him. It was horrible to think about, the Burrow being destroyed. It had always been a second home to him, and now it was in ruins.

Madam Pomfrey fussed over Mrs. Weasley, and gave her some Dreamless Sleep Draught; Pomfrey also looked over the other Weasleys' injuries and tried to make them drink some tea, but they politely refused. Finally, McGonagall shooed Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny from her office. They said their good-byes to the other Weasleys and dragged themselves back to Gryffindor tower. Or rather, Harry, Hermione and Ginny did; Ron made a beeline for his room. Nobody even had to guess what he'd be up to.

They didn't end up seeing Ron until late into lunchtime. For the past few hours, he'd meditated behind the locked and warded door of his room. Even without being able to use Tactile Sight to locate Fred and George, Ron hoped to make some kind of progress in finding their whereabouts.

When he joined Harry, Hermione and Ginny at lunch and sat down heavily on the bench, he looked cautiously optimistic.

'They're alive,' Ron muttered, leaning in. 'I know that much. And they're being kept in separate rooms, probably a basement somewhere.'

Harry was greatly disappointed, for both Ron and Ginny's sakes, that Ron wasn't able to glean more information, but the news that Fred and George were at least alive was somewhat heartening. Harry knew that ever since Pansy's death, Ron could sense when someone would die. The thought made Harry shudder; all the times he himself had had visions of Voldemort doing something terrible, that terrible night in the graveyard when he'd witnessed Cedric's senseless murder, none of it seemed to compare to what Ron saw when he put his gift to use. It struck Harry, too, as cruelly ironic that such a skill as Seeing could even be called a gift.

And then, unbidden, he remembered something Dumbledore had told him, that the scar Voldemort had given Harry was both blessing and curse. In that moment, Harry understood what Dumbledore meant. It was no different with Ginny, whose Empathic abilities could heal people's hearts from their pain and grief, and yet whose powers, in the course of their healing, would cause pain in the healer.

'Harry, are you okay?' Ginny asked, picking up her glass of pumpkin juice. 'You look really distracted.'

'I'm fine,' he said, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. 'Just thinking.'

He vaguely noticed that the Great Hall was nearly empty; he was about to take a bite of his sandwich when he saw Ron's face go white with fury.

'Ron, what?' Harry hissed.

'Well, well,' said a snide, hateful voice. 'Look who's here.'

Harry turned and felt his stomach twist with fury.

'What do you want, Nott?' Ron snarled, through gritted teeth.

'I just thought I'd ask after your family,' Nott said, smiling coldly. He was flanked, as usual, by Crabbe and Goyle. 'I saw them shuffling about in the corridors earlier. How are they feeling? Shame about that house of yours.'

'Go away, Nott,' Ginny snapped.

'Only if you come with me,' said Nott, giving Ginny a lascivious smile. 'If you're nice I might even share you with Draco, seeing as he's obsessed with you.'

Harry felt himself pull his wand from his pocket and stand up before he made a conscious decision to do so; Ron did the same, and both girls followed, keeping their eyes warily on all the boys.

'Back off, Nott,' Harry growled.

'Now, now, Potter,' said Nott smoothly, 'you don't want to cause a scene, do you? I just came by to extend my condolences to the Weasleys. Such a shame about those twins.'

Ron looked like he was ready to launch himself across the table at Nott; Crabbe and Goyle clenched their fists.

'Ron...' Hermione whispered.

'You know where they are, you bastard,' Ron said, in a low dangerous voice. If Ron's eyes had been knives they would have cut holes in Nott's head.

'Afraid not, Weasley,' said Nott. 'I'd love to help you find your degenerate brothers, don't get me wrong.'

Ron again looked poised to spring, and Hermione grabbed his arm and held on.

'Don't...' she whispered.

'Yeah, Ron,' said Harry, glaring at Nott. 'Don't waste your energy on Nott. He doesn't know anything.'

'You see, Weasley?' said Nott, feigning innocence. 'Even Potter believes me.'

'He doesn't know anything,' said Harry, 'because he's not important enough in the club to know. Isn't that right, Theo? You're nothing but an errand boy for Voldemort.'

Nott's eyes flashed with fury for a moment, and Harry saw a muscle in the other boy's jaw twitch, but when Nott spoke, his voice was low and threatening.

'You're all going to die. Every last one of you. You could have joined us, you know, Potter, and made your mark, but you're nothing but Mudblood lover, just like your father. Just like the blood-traitor Weasleys.'

Harry bit back the urge to hex Nott into next week, and instead kept up his sarcasm.

'I'd rather eat dirt than join the likes of you,' he sneered. 'You're pathetic, all of you. You really think Voldemort gives a shit about any of you? You're just slaves to him, little toadies who exist to do his bidding. Tell us, Theo. How do Voldemort's boots taste, now you've licked them? Bet you can't wait to lick them again, can you?'

Nott's temple was throbbing, and his hand hovered over his robe pocket; Harry tensed and waited for Nott to go for his wand; Nott was fast, but Harry was faster. If it came down to throwing a curse, both boys knew who would come out on top.

Nott lowered his hand, but his eyes bored into Harry's.

'The Dark Lord is going to tear you open,' he snarled, 'but he'll leave one of your friends for me.' His eyes flickered over to Hermione. 'Maybe I'll get the Mudblood. Finish what Draco couldn't.'

Harry waited for Ron to leap across the table and attempt to throttle Nott, but surprisingly, Ron simply moved slightly in front of Hermione and kept his eyes fixed on Nott. The only indication now of his tension was the slight trembling of his right hand, which clutched his wand.

'You go near her,' he said, in an unnervingly calm voice, 'and I'll hurt you.'

Nott snorted, and suddenly Harry had had enough of this.

'Get out of here, Nott,' he snapped. 'Right now, or I'll hex you so badly they'll be picking you out of the cracks in the walls.'

Nott smirked and gestured to Crabbe and Goyle to follow; they started out of the Great Hall, but halfway to the door, Nott turned and fixed his eyes on Ron.

'You'd best be looking for your brothers, Weasley,' he said. 'They don't have much time left. I'm sure after what happened to Pansy, you wouldn't want to see your brothers die. It's not a pretty sight.'

Ron paled and Hermione gripped his arm even tighter as Nott, Crabbe and Goyle stalked out of the Great Hall.

'Bastards,' Harry muttered. 'Ron...are you okay?'

Ron took a deep breath. 'No,' he said. 'Let's get the hell out of here.'

They left the Great Hall, but were pulled aside along the way by McGonagall, who reported that Fred and George's flat showed signs of 'very minimal damage associated with attempted breaking and entering' but that the wards on the flat were so powerful that the Death Eaters had given up trying to get inside. Now the Aurors were having, in McGonagall's words, a 'devil of a time' taking apart the wards piece by piece in order to get inside and clear out Fred and George's things. The twins' belongings would then be brought--via means McGonagall would not specify--to Hogwarts itself, to be stored in McGonagall's office, whereby Ron could have at whatever he felt he needed to find his brothers. This news served to greatly calm Ron down; Harry was certain his best mate's temper would fray on the spot if one more person gave Ron any grief.

Having been excused from lessons, Ron suggested they all go to his room, and focus on everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. Hermione--who seemed to carry it with her wherever she went--pulled her ever expanding list from her school bag. Harry could tell Ron was anxious to meditate, but he had decided he would wait until he could get his hands on his brothers' stuff. Instead, they began to discuss the confrontation with Nott, among many other things.

'So Nott's the spy,' said Harry, sitting in Ron's desk chair. 'Which begs the question of how he found out about Ron.'

'He's never--damn, pardon the pun--seen me have a vision,' said Ron. 'Which means he must have found out some other way.'

'A third party?' suggested Ginny.

'Malfoy?' Ron countered.

'It's not,' said Ginny confidently. 'I know it's not.'

'We believe you,' said Harry. 'Maybe Nott has an Invisibility Cloak. They're rare but a bloke like Nott would probably not have too much trouble getting one.'

'Maybe,' said Ron, but then he screwed up his face in distaste, 'but that means Nott somehow managed to sneak in here while I was meditating at some point or another. Somehow I doubt that. Even I'm wouldn't be thick enough not to sense it when someone's in my bloody room.'

'And your room is warded and locked with a password,' Hermione added, her eyes scanning down, around and over the list, which she had recopied more neatly, onto several sheets of parchment.

'So listening devices wouldn't work on Ron's door,' Ginny mused.

'Even if they did work, I can't picture Nott standing outside a door with an Extendable Ear,' said Harry. 'It doesn't seem efficient enough for him, or something.'

'So we're back to third party,' said Ron. 'Which means...another person in the school must have known.'

'Great,' said Harry. 'Another spy? How many spies are in this bloody school?'

'What if it wasn't a Slytherin, or a friend of Nott's?' said Hermione. 'What if it was a Gryffindor--'

'Put under the Imperius Curse,' Ron finished darkly. 'Just like Lee.'

For a moment, nobody said anything, and then Ginny's brow furrowed. 'Wait a minute. What about that attack on the shoppe? The Death Eaters stole some invention that Fred and George had been about to ship to the order, right?'

'Noxious Nasal Nuisance,' said Ron. 'Some kind of smelly gas that knocks people out.'

Hermione bit her lip. 'That means Voldemort must be planning to use that stuff against his enemies.'

'And knowing him, he won't be satisfied with a gas that just makes people pass out,' said Harry. 'He'll mess with the formula and make it deadly.'

Ron let out a grunt of frustration and ran his hand through his hair, and then his eyes widened.

'Shit,' he said.

'What?' said Harry, Hermione and Ginny.

'That dream I had!' Ron cried, and then he groaned. 'I don't believe it! Why didn't I see it before?'

'Now what's he talking about?' Harry muttered.

'Harry, the dream!' Ron said insistently. 'Remember? The really mad one I had right after Christmas? All this stuff was going on in it and I could only remember bits and pieces of it and...I just remembered another piece. In the dream, Fred, George and Lee were all standing round a canister of that noxious stuff and...and congratulating each other.'

'When did that happen?' Ginny asked. 'The...the thing with Fred and George and Lee?'

'I dunno, that's just it,' said Ron, sounding frustrated. 'I can never lock down times or dates or anything with this Seer stuff. But all three of them worked on it, I know that much.'

'Wait,' said Hermione, sitting up straighter--she paused to hurriedly scratch something on her list--and getting the familiar flash in her eyes as she puzzled out something.

'Okay,' she said, 'the Death Eaters attack the store, the Burrow and headquarters all on the same day. Why?'

'They wanted the gas stuff,' said Harry at once.

'They wanted to prove a point,' said Ginny, scowling.

'They needed to find a way to locate headquarters,' said Ron.

'Right, on all three counts,' said Hermione.

'Fred and George trusted Lee,' said Harry. 'But if they were developing stuff for the Order, they would have been secretive about it, wouldn't they?'

'Yes,' said Ginny. 'They'd never tell anyone how they go about inventing or developing their stuff, especially if it's for the Order.'

'For safety reasons,' said Hermione. 'They keep it a secret for the same reason Ron and Ginny have kept their gifts a secret: so that if Ron or Ginny were ever caught by Death Eaters and...and tortured for information, or if they used Veritaserum, both of you could honestly say you didn't know how Fred and George created their stuff.'

'But they told Lee,' said Ron. 'He worked on that stuff. And he was at headquarters at Christmas.'

'Do you think they could have gotten to him as far back as that?' said Ginny. 'If he were under Imperius for that long, wouldn't Fred and George have noticed? I mean, they lived together. Not even a really powerful wizard or witch could keep Lee under Imperius for that long without Fred and George figuring it out.'

'Not only that but being under Imperius for that long would have started driving Lee mad,' said Harry. 'Just like Barty Crouch. Sooner or later Lee would have tried to fight back against the curse.'

'So how did the Death Eaters use him, then?'

'A combination of Imperius and Memory Charms,' suggested Hermione. 'Think about it. It's no secret that Lee is a partner in the joke shop and Fred and George's close friend. Someone in Voldemort's organization--if not Voldemort himself--realizes that Fred and George's products have useful applications in battle situations, spying, that sort of thing. But striking Fred and George directly doesn't accomplish much. They need someone on the inside, and who better than Lee?'

'They used him,' said Ron sadly.

'Yes, they did,' Hermione agreed. 'But as for how they did it, Harry's right: prolonged exposure to the Imperius Curse would have started having a deleterious effect on Lee's mind, and he would have eventually tried to fight the curse and warn Fred and George off. A Death Eater must have found a way to get close to Lee; he or she would use Imperius only long enough to get some useful information, and then lift it, but also use a powerful Memory Charm, possibly with a substitute memory, so Lee never got suspicious or thought anything was wrong.'

'Yeah, but who could have gotten close enough to Lee to pull it off?' said Ron.

'Lee wouldn't have felt trustful towards just anyone,' said Ginny. 'It must have been someone he thought he knew.'

'Someone who'd changed their appearance,' said Harry. 'With Polyjuice or a Glamour or something.'

'That makes sense,' said Ron. 'So they get a hold of Lee and use him to gather information on Fred and George. And the location of headquarters, too.'

Hermione tapped her quill against her cheek.

'But if they knew about the location to headquarters back at around Christmastime, why didn't they didn't attack us?' she asked.

Ron gave her the answer.

'Because they wanted what Fred and George were working on, only Fred and George must not have finished it yet at that point. They must have just been developing and testing the stuff.'

'Wait,' said Harry, shaking his head, 'doesn't it just make more sense for the Death Eaters to have kidnapped Lee and used Veritaserum on him? Why spend months playing about with Lee? They could have forced Lee to tell everything he knows, including whatever formula Fred and George were using to make their stuff and the Death Eaters could then have just developed the gas themselves. And they could have attacked us back at Christmas--we were all in that house, it was the perfect opportunity...'

Just as he said this, the revelation came to Harry, and he went on with widening eyes.

'But back then, Voldemort had just found out about a Seer,' he said, and he got up from Ron's chair and began to pace. 'He couldn't be sure at the time if an attack would work. He'd already failed at so many other attempts, and if Voldemort is smart at anything, it's learning from his mistakes. He didn't want to waste man-power on an attack that could be prevented by the foresight of a Seer.'

'So back then, Voldemort didn't know it was me,' said Ron. 'The Death Eaters get to Lee, do their thing with him, and somewhere in the next three months, Voldemort finds out who the Seer is.'

'And proceeds to attack his family from all different directions,' said Ginny heavily. 'The Burrow, Fred and George, Mum and Dad, Bill...'

Ron let out a breath. 'To get around me,' he said. 'If they did all those things at the same time, they might not succeed in every case, but they'd at least hit us somewhere. And the shoppe...Lee would have known how to take down the wards on the shoppe, which means he must have told the Death Eaters at some point.'

Harry swore under his breath at the injustice of it, of using Fred and George's best friend so cruelly. And Lee had died knowing he had unwillingly betrayed his best friends.

'The Death Eaters took their time,' said Hermione. 'They knew if they hit too hard too soon, they wouldn't accomplish anything. They had to play it delicately. So they use Lee, but carefully, and sparingly, only when they really need to. That way Fred and George don't get suspicious that something is off.'

'Lee was so normal that night,' said Ginny. 'Christmas Eve, I mean.' She shuddered.

'He was,' said Harry. 'Completely normal.'

'How did the Death Eaters hide what they were doing so well?' said Ron. 'This is my family, I should have seen something sooner.'

For a long moment they all considered this point, and suddenly Hermione's eyes lit up.

'The abductions,' she said. 'Of Anthony and Pansy. Those were the distractions. Of course! Ron, Voldemort knows at Christmastime there's a Seer helping the Order. He doesn't know who it is, but he knows he has to find a way to distract him or her, and fast. So he or one of his Death Eaters does some research, or maybe that Death Eater already knows a thing or two about Seers, including how they train and what methods they use. They could have known about Tactile Sight. So they kidnap Anthony, figuring that a Seer helping the order would be called upon to help find a Muggle-born student, and Voldemort must have figured the Seer would go about looking for Anthony in the most efficient way possible: with Tactile Sight.'

'Only I'd just started training with it,' said Ron, nodding, 'and it left me all worn out, so that I stopped meditating the regular way pretty much altogether.'

'Voldemort couldn't have known that,' said Ginny, 'if he didn't know who the Seer was. For all Voldemort knew the Seer was an expert at Tactile Sight.'

'That doesn't matter,' said Hermione. 'What matters is that the Seer, Ron, was distracted from what they were doing with Lee. And...that's why they took Pansy! To confuse the Seer even more. She's a pure-blood, and her parents never opposed Voldemort, even if they didn't exactly support him, either.'

'So what you're saying,' said Ron, 'is that Voldemort came up with this huge scheme to distract the Seer, whose identity at the time was a mystery, so that he could steal Fred and George's invention and find Order headquarters?'

Hermione started to speak, but suddenly everything clunked in Harry's mind, and he jumped in.

'No,' said Harry. 'Okay, Voldemort was weak back at Christmas. He needed human blood. But by then he'd figured out there was a Seer working against him. He couldn't just go about his usual attacking thing; he needed a new plan, but maybe he was too weak to come up with it on his own. So he delegates. He gets one of his Death Eaters to come up with a plan, and there are two goals. One, get some human prisoners so he can take their blood and two, find a way to do it so the Seer is one step behind.'

'And the stuff with Lee and my brothers fits in where?' said Ron, looking confused.

'That's just it,' said Harry. 'I don't think Voldemort came up with that idea. I think a Death Eater did. A really clever, ruthless Death Eater, with a personal stake in going after your family.'

Ron swallowed, and Ginny paled.

'Lucius Malfoy,' she said.

'Bloody hell,' said Ron. 'He was in the store when the Death Eaters attacked Fred and George!'

'You really believe he planned this, Harry?' said Hermione.

'Yeah, I do,' said Harry. 'A plan like that? It took time, and it was subtle. That's how Lucius Malfoy works. He worked that way for a whole year inside the Ministry in our fifth year, remember?'

'Would he have been the one to go to Lee?' said Ginny. 'That doesn't seem like him.'

'No,' said Harry. 'I agree there. They probably got someone else to deal directly with Lee. But the plan itself...it's Malfoy to a tee.'

'And given that his secret's out and everyone knows he's a Death Eater,' said Ron, 'and he can't be Voldemort's inside guy at the Ministry, Lucius must have wanted to prove himself in some way.'

'And Draco,' Ginny piped up. 'Lucius must have been embarrassed that his son couldn't live up to his Death Eater obligations. So Lucius comes up with a plan that covers everything: he gets victims for Voldemort, diverts the Seer, gets a new weapon for the Death Eaters--Fred and George's gas stuff--and he finds the location of Order headquarters.'

'And in the meantime, Malfoy manages to get back at us,' said Ron darkly. 'But...doesn't that mean Lucius knew about me earlier, then?'

'Not necessarily,' said Harry. 'In fact, it wouldn't have even mattered, technically, if Lucius didn't know who the Seer was. Either way he'd be getting back at the Weasleys and giving Voldemort a lot of nice presents. Either way, he'd be able to make his mission personal, while still giving Voldemort what he wants.'

Ron groaned and ran a hand through his hair. 'That still doesn't tell us when or how any of them learned about me being the Seer. How did Nott find out if he didn't actually see me have a vision? The only people apart from you lot and the teachers who've seen me have one of those spontaneous things are...were...Pansy and Malfoy.'

'Pansy, who's dead,' said Ginny, 'and Malfoy, who can't lie to me about anything.'

Ron sighed and sat heavily on his bed, leaning against the headboard; he closed his eyes, and for a while, nobody spoke; everyone seemed to be trying to absorb this overload of information. The only sound was the scratching of Hermione's quill as she continued to fill up another page of parchment with the information they were hashing out.

It was then that Ron's eyes snapped open.

'Goyle,' he said suddenly.

'What?' said Harry.

'Goyle,' said Ron. 'Why can't Goyle be the third party?'

They all looked at him in disbelief, but Ron waved his hands and spoke quickly.

'Hear me out,' he said. 'Last night I catch Nott and Goyle talking about getting something for Voldemort--that cling thingy or whatever it is. It's like...Goyle just got back from talking with Voldemort, or someone close to Voldemort, yeah? So Goyle's, like, the messenger boy or something.'

'Ron, Goyle has the intellectual capacity of a sea sponge,' said Hermione.

'And that's being generous,' said Harry.

'Anyway, Ron, if Nott wasn't able to spy on you somehow, what makes you think Goyle would?' said Ginny. 'He really is just too dumb.'

'And maybe the dumb act is just that, an act,' said Ron. 'He was smart enough to deliver that important message--okay, so talking about it in a corridor is stupid--but the guy's a Death Eater in training and somebody seems to be telling him important stuff.'

'It'd be nice if we could figure out what the hell "cling" is supposed to mean,' said Harry.

'I have the sneaking suspicion this cling that Voldemort wants isn't plastic wrap,' said Hermione sarcastically.

'But it must be in here,' said Ginny, 'at Hogwarts, if Nott is expected to get it.'

'Another thing in Hogwarts that Voldemort wants?' said Ron incredulously. 'Whatever happened to storing stuff at Gringott's, anyway? It's not like that place is that easy to get into, especially now.'

'Well, Dumbledore was here,' said Hermione, 'and he was the only wizard Voldemort feared. Maybe this means this cling object was under Dumbledore's protection while he was alive. Maybe it even belonged to him.'

Harry thought about all the strange objects Dumbledore used to keep in his office. He had always figured most of them were useful and even powerful, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what they all were or which object Voldemort might want.

'Practically everything Dumbledore had went to his brother,' said Harry, feeling suddenly very troubled. How could Aberforth Dumbledore possibly hope to protect his brother's belongings, living as he did above the Hog's Head?

Any further musings on the complex plans of Voldemort were interrupted by a sharp knock on Ron's door. Ron picked up his wand, lowered the wards on the door, and it opened softly.

Professor McGonagall strode in.

'Mr. Weasley,' she said, 'we've obtained your brothers' things.'

Harry would later recall there were few times he'd seen Ron run so fast to McGonagall's office as the moment she'd announced the arrival of Fred and George's effects from their flat. The Headmistress did not even bother to admonish him to slow down, or to mind that he had an Auror escort. Hermione sprinted after Ron, yelling at him to slow down.

'He'll find my door locked and warded when he gets there and have to wait for me, anyway,' said McGonagall, and she turned to leave Ron's room when Harry spoke up.

'Professor,' he said, 'Ron told you about the conversation he overheard Theodore Nott and Gregory Goyle having, didn't he?'

'Yes, Mr. Potter, he did,' said McGonagall, 'this morning. And I'll tell him what I told you: Dumbledore possesses no such object as a "cling", whatever that is, and no such object is being stored inside Hogwarts. But if you are indeed worried, I can assure you that Dumbledore's effects are being kept safe. Now if you'll excuse me, I must get to my office before Mr. Weasley pulls out his hair.'

For the next week, Ron meditated more than Harry thought possible. He had taken piles of Fred and George's things back to his room, and he seemed to be using everything. Their old school brooms; their Christmas jumpers; some of their latest fake wands; their dragon skin jackets. By the end of the week, everything Fred and George owned was rumpled from Ron clutching them during his meditations.

Professor McGonagall refused, however, to allow Ron to miss lessons, which incensed him.

'Bloody N.E.W.Ts, who cares?' he grumbled. 'These are my brothers.'

Hermione wisely said nothing, and Harry made a show of agreeing with Ron, just for the sake of solidarity. But Harry thought McGonagall had a point; the rigors of this new level of Ron's gift left him utterly exhausted and pale. He raced through his meals to allow for extra time to meditate, and within two days, the blue marks beneath Ron's eyes told Harry he wasn't sleeping much. Lessons, however difficult, at least provided Ron a physical and mental respite from his Seer business.

'Can't you get him to slow down at all?' Hermione asked him irritably one morning (Ron was in his room meditating; he'd taken to stuffing a few pieces of toast in his mouth as he raced to class).

'No,' said Harry firmly. 'He's a Weasley, what do you expect? Stubborn bunch, all of them.'

Ginny gave him an affectionate roll of her eyes and swatted him gently on the arm, but Harry could sense her worry for her older brothers.

By Wednesday of that week, Ron was tired and irritable, but he reported that Fred and George were still alive and, he was quite sure, somewhere in the United Kingdom, most likely in a Muggle area.

'Saw street signs,' he said, munching hurriedly on some bacon. 'All of 'em were in English. And cars, driving on the left.'

'Ron, chew your food or you'll choke,' said Hermione, shaking her head.

Ron's response was to swallow the mouthful of bacon, take a big gulp of lukewarm coffee, and peck Hermione on the cheek.

'See you in lessons, love,' he said, and off he went to his room for another cycle of Tactile Sight.

Harry was all set to cancel Quidditch practice that week, but Ginny begged him to leave it on; she needed the distraction. Ron, however, demurred, and Dean wound up having a go. By the end, Harry felt somewhat better, particularly after a hot shower, but then the feeling of uneasiness returned.

Fred and George were still missing. Voldemort could be draining their blood at any moment. Somewhere in the castle was something that Voldemort wanted. Again. Only this time, Harry didn't have one clue what it could be. Then there were the Weasleys. For reasons of security, they were effectively incommunicado; they'd been moved to whatever secure location Minister Bones had chosen, and Ron and Ginny hadn't heard one word since, and were instructed in no uncertain terms that they must not attempt to make contact. Harry wondered if the situation would become a repeat of what Hermione had gone through and was still going through, with her parents. But even the temporary, total separation was taking its toll on Ron and Ginny.

The uneasiness was relieved somewhat by news from McGonagall that Bill had fully recovered and that, after a full twenty-four hours of very frantic effort on the part of several Healers, Fleur would recover, and the baby she carried would survive. Ron and Ginny greeted this news with no small amount of relief, and for a few days, anyway, they allowed themselves to be thankful that one more family member had managed to survive a brutal encounter with Death Eaters and get out in one piece.

Meanwhile, Hagrid had taken over Care of Magical Creatures. Harry, Ron and Hermione prepared themselves for the worst.

'He got a Graphorn,' said Hermione. 'You just watch. All that time in the mountains...'

'Or a lethifold,' said Ron, shuddering.

'Only if he stopped off in Tahiti on his way back to Hogwarts,' said Hermione. 'Ron, lethifolds are tropical creatures.'

'Good,' said Ron. 'Remind me never to go to Tahiti.'

But when Hagrid appeared for the lesson, he announced that they would be working toward finishing up their unit on Pygmy Spiketails, owing to an unfortunate incident with the small herd of nogtails he'd brought back.

Harry never did find out what the incident with the nasty pig-like creatures entailed, but by and large, he never minded being bored in one of Hagrid's lessons. Boredom beat grave danger, at any rate, especially now.

Except for today, where Ron was so anxious, and Hermione fretful, and Harry himself uneasy.

On top of everything, Harry was supposed to start Empath training with Ginny, but with the events surrounding Ginny's family, Mrs. Tonks felt it best to be pushed back a bit. Harry had to admit he didn't mind this; for one thing, Ginny needed a break from her Empath training, and Harry himself wasn't much in the mood for it, either. The one good thing on that issue was that Ginny was no longer working with Draco Malfoy anymore.

'He has nothing useful to say, anyway,' said Ginny, shrugging.

Indeed, Harry had observed Malfoy recently and saw that the boy who had once been his biggest school rival was now fully retreated within himself. Draco spoke to no one; he attended lessons, did his class assignments and turned in his homework with the air of an automaton. A rumor began that week that Malfoy had quit the Quidditch team; this was confirmed for Harry when he saw the Slytherins come into the castle from a practice and Malfoy was not among the seven players; instead, there was a smallish girl with mousy brown hair that Harry vaguely recognized, but whose name he couldn't place. She seemed a bit out of her element, given her diminutive size and the fact that she was female; the Slytherin team had never seemed to even allow girls on their team.

Harry wound up using whatever free time he could to finish his Auror applications, which, if he were honest with himself, probably could have been done better. But then, when one was charged with defeating the most evil wizard in the world, one could reasonably claim one had better things to do than make sure his job applications were picture-perfect.

Harry mailed his Auror applications on Thursday, and was surprised to find Ron in the owlery, doing the same thing.

'When did you find time to get yours done?' Harry asked.

'I stayed up last night to finish them,' said Ron, his voice hoarse. 'I just wanted to get them off my back, you know?'

Harry knew, but he was truly alarmed to see how pale Ron had become; even his freckles seemed faded. The circles under his eyes were dark, like bruises. His hair hung limply across his forehead and he looked as though he'd lost a bit of weight over the course of the week. His robes seemed to be slightly too big for him, which was saying something, given Ron's six feet and three inches of height.

'Gotta go,' Ron said, starting to hurry from the owlery after the barn owl he'd chosen flew off with his remaining Auror applications.

'Ron, wait,' said Harry. 'You...you look like hell.'

'Thanks,' said Ron dryly.

'Just...take care of yourself, please?'

Ron pressed his lips together. 'I will when I find them,' he said shortly, and he left the room. Harry sighed and shook his head, and then whistled softly. Hedwig swooped down from a perch high up in the owlery and gently nipped him on the ear as she perched on his shoulder.

'Hey, girl,' said Harry, handing her the applications. 'Take these to the Ministry, yeah?'

Hedwig hooted, took the letters in her outstretched claw, and flew away in a great flap of white wings.

It was only when he returned to the dormitory that Harry noticed two more job applications. He groaned and wracked his brain to see if he'd missed something, but then he saw what the applications were for: teaching positions. One was as an apprentice Defense teacher, at Hogwarts. The other was for an apprenticeship at Beauxbatons. He found himself staring at the applications for fifteen minutes before he decided to fill them out.

Might as well. Assuming I live long enough to have a career, the Aurors just might not want me. Best to cover myself.

He mailed the Beauxbatons application, using a small eagle owl, and slipped the Hogwarts one under McGonagall's door. There was something unnerving about applying for a job, really. The physical act of sending in job applications served to drive home in Harry the not altogether pleasant reality that he would be leaving Hogwarts soon, for good. He had no real illusions that he'd take the teaching job, after all. He could tell himself that the Auror programs might not take him, but deep down Harry knew this wouldn't be the case. He was the top Defense student in the school, his marks in his other subjects had steadily improved since fifth year, and if he actually did manage to defeat Voldemort without dying in the process, Harry knew the Auror programs would be clamoring to enroll him.

He then thought of Ron, who, he had to admit, had shown more dedication to this whole career thing than he had. In fact, Ron had worked harder than he all year, if Harry were honest. Ron deserved to be an Auror as much as Harry did, didn't he?

Yes, he did, Harry decided, because even if Ron wasn't quite as quick or agile as Harry, Ron was nevertheless very good at Defense now. The sort one would want to have on one's side in a dangerous situation. He was even figuring out how to control his temper: Harry thought back to the confrontation with Nott earlier in the week. Ron had managed to resist the urge to pummel Nott after he'd threatened Hermione. This kind of control was a bit weird to see in Ron, given his vastly protective nature where Hermione was concerned, but it told Harry that Ron was, more and more, determined to keep his head in those situations, because that's what would be required of an Auror.

I hope Ron gets accepted. I don't want to be an Auror without him.

By Friday, Ron still hadn't found Fred and George, and he looked even worse than he had the day before, but the determination in his eyes, however mingled with frustration, hadn't dimmed.

'I'm close,' was all he said on the subject of locating his brothers.

Nott and his cronies continued to smirk and snigger whenever Ron walked by, but he ignored them. Harry was finding such restraint a bit more difficult; he was tired of seeing Nott's smug, arrogant face, of knowing that Nott had gotten away with acting as a spy for Voldemort and the school was doing nothing about it.

Ginny reminded him that McGonagall was fully aware of Nott's business now, and that Snape was watching Nott like a hawk, so it wasn't as if Nott could get away with too much.

That night, Harry returned to Professor Hopkirk's office for a second test run of the blood potion. Ron wasn't there this time, but Hermione, Ginny, Snape and Hopkirk were. The presence of Snape bothered Harry no small amount, but then he noticed that Hopkirk had relegated herself to the corner of her office and was letting Snape direct everything. Harry didn't have to guess why Hopkirk was doing this. She didn't seem to trust herself around him anymore, and if Harry were honest with himself, he had to admit he wasn't sure if he trusted himself around her.

Hopkirk met his eyes then, and quickly looked away. She seemed to shrink back just slightly, as though she didn't want to get too close to him. Harry was grateful for this.

'Right, then, Potter,' said Snape, his voice breaking into Harry's reverie. 'Are you ready?'

'Yeah,' said Harry, suddenly feeling very nervous. This time would be different: Harry would attempt to use Occlumency while under the influence of the potion, in order to keep Voldemort from intruding on his thoughts.

Hermione handed him a small flask of the potion. Harry gave Ginny a quick smile before downing it, slowly, letting the thick liquid slide down his throat.

As before, nothing happened for about ten seconds, but then there was the rush of power, and images and voices inside his mind and behind his eyes. All of them uniformly wonderful: getting his Nimbus 2000; winning his first Quidditch match; hugging Hermione after she'd recovered from being Petrified; saving Buckbeak and Sirius; winning the Quidditch cup; kissing Ginny on Halloween; spending Christmas, in first year, at Hogwarts with Ron and getting presents for the first time; his first D.A. lesson; his mother holding him as a baby, singing softly to him...

Harry knew he was smiling, laughing, and he felt tears on his face. Such joy seemed impossible, and yet he felt it, down to his very bones. The power of it should have staggered him, but somehow, he felt stronger today, more sure of himself, more aware.

From somewhere far away, Harry heard Snape suddenly shout a curse; Harry lifted his arm as the curse bounced away; with a single sweep of his arm, Harry disarmed Snape. Snape retrieved his wand and tried the throw Cruciatus at Harry; the spell again bounced away.

And then Harry felt it. A sudden, painful twinging in his scar.

Voldemort. Harry quickly closed his mind to everything; the joyous visions and voices faded.

And then something extraordinary happened. The burning in his scar grew, but amazingly, it stopped hurting, and suddenly a great wash of light poured from it, such that Ginny, Hermione, Snape and Hopkirk had to shield their eyes. Harry squeezed his own eyes shut against the light, and he knew he was blocking Voldemort. It was working! The potion, and Occlumency, working together!

And then there was the sharp pain again, and Harry saw new images, of the dark haired boy in the room full of beds.

It's Tom Riddle...

Don't let Voldemort inside your head! You shouldn't be seeing this...

The young Tom was surrounded by other boys, all of whom were taunting him, pushing him. The dark haired boy was crying, but the look in his eyes was hateful. One of the other boys, a tall, beefy sandy-haired one, held in his hands a photograph. It was the photograph Tom kept by his bedside, the picture of the pretty woman. The sandy-haired boy sneered and hurled the picture to the floor, where the glass shattered. Then he stomped on the picture, breaking the frame. Tom wailed and lunged forward, but two other boys held him fast as the sandy-haired boy pulled the picture from the frame and tore it to bits. Tom screamed...

'NO!!!'

Tom's voice blended with Harry's as the boy collapsed to the floor in tears, picking up the torn pieces of the woman's picture. The other boys stared down at him, scowling.

'Freak,' one of them jeered, and he gave Tom a sharp kick that the boy barely noticed, so distraught was he over the ruined photograph. The other boys walked away, and Harry felt his heart twisted as he watched Tom clutch the scraps of the photograph to his chest and sob quietly. The boy's pain was so acute Harry struggled to breathe. And then Tom's sobs quieted, and Harry felt suddenly, bitterly cold, as though his blood had been drained and ice water now flowed in his veins. Tom looked up, and his black eyes glittered now not with sorrow, but with hatred.

The boy's face faded and for a moment, the thin, stretched face of Voldemort appeared. Harry grunted and fell to his knees as the potion's effects faded.

He was sweating and panting again, and now his knees ached.

Ginny was at his side, and before he could stop her, she touched his forehead with her palm and soothed him.

'Don't...' Harry whispered, but he was too weak to stop her, and he felt his eyes sting when Ginny's face tightened in pain. But still she held on, still she absorbed his exhaustion and made it her own. She finally let go of him and he saw that she, too, was panting.

'Potter,' said Snape sharply, ' are you all right?'

Harry looked up at Snape, who didn't look so much concerned as annoyed in some way.

'Fine,' said Harry, although of course he didn't feel fine. In fact, he felt worse than the last time, and he was sure using Occlumency while under the influence of the potion had something to do with it.

'Were you able to block the Dark Lord from your mind?' Snape asked, not bothering to help Harry or Ginny to stand.

'Yeah,' said Harry, taking a deep breath. 'At first.'

'Your scar flared,' said Hopkirk, speaking for the first time. 'What do you make of that?'

'I think that was the Occlumency,' said Harry, wiping his brow. 'My scar got hot but it didn't hurt during that. Only...I couldn't keep it up. I saw Tom Riddle again, when he was a kid. I think he was in that orphanage; a bunch of other kids were making fun of him and tore up this woman's picture.'

'As interesting as the Dark Lord's childhood no doubt is,' said Snape sarcastically, 'I think it instructive, Potter, that you were unable to maintain your mental block. If you can see into the Dark Lord's mind, he can see into yours. Unless, of course, you've become an expert Legilimens.'

'I'm pretty good at it by now,' said Harry defensively.

'Yes, well, that was before you started trying to do it while taking this potion,' said Snape. 'Clearly you're going to need a lot more work, which doesn't surprise me in the least.'

Harry scowled at Snape, but said nothing; Snape raised an eyebrow, but continued.

'Fortunately the results tonight are encouraging. You were able to block the Dark Lord temporarily while under the influence of the potion, with no ill effects.'

No ill effects. Yeah, right. I feel like I've been through a wringer about a thousand times, but other than that, the potion had no ill effects.

But even as he thought this, Harry noticed that he was regaining his strength more quickly than he had last week. Of course, Ginny had something to do with that, and he didn't like to think of that. If it came down to Harry having a mind fight with Voldemort while taking this potion, he needed to be strong of his own accord. He couldn't rely on Ginny to restore him. Not because she couldn't do it, but because as far as Harry was concerned, he didn't want Ginny anywhere near Voldemort. The fight was his, and would always be his, even if his friends helped him get there.

Snape, meanwhile, turned sharply to Hopkirk.

'I think, Griselda,' he said, 'it might be wise to start testing Potter more frequently. At least twice a week.'

Harry blinked to hear Snape use Professor Hopkirk's first name.

'Do you think he's up for it?' said Hopkirk, folding her arms across her chest.

'I'm right here,' said Harry, not caring that he sounded rude, but he hated it when people discussed him as though he weren't present.

'Well, Potter?' said Snape loftily. 'Do you think you can handle twice-weekly testing?'

'I suppose I have to,' said Harry coolly. Then he added, 'Sir.'

'Very good then,' said Snape. 'What do you think, Griselda? Next Tuesday evening, same time?'

'That's fine,' said Hopkirk. She kept her eyes off Harry and said nothing else.

Harry noticed that Hermione and Ginny both looked a bit fretful; they clearly were worried the toll using the potion might take on him. But they also looked resigned. And it was true: there was no getting around any hardships anymore. Not if Voldemort was to be defeated.

On Saturday morning, Harry awoke to find Ginny crying softly next to him.

She'd spent the night with him in his bed, which had been surrounded by various privacy charms. They'd talked a little, and held each other, and kissed feverishly, their hands gliding over flesh and pulling at clothing until they were both clad in only their knickers. After a little bit of pleading on Harry's part, Ginny let him slide off her knickers and do what he'd been wanting to do since the night he'd first touched her there. She'd made sweet little whimpers, and she tasted of heaven and honey and girl, and the force of her orgasm had sent him hurtling. Afterward he had pulled her close, reveling in the feel of her naked skin against his, and he wondered when it would be that they could make love, that he could be inside her softness and know her completely.

As if she'd read his mind, she lifted her head and kissed his lips.

'Soon,' she said, her eyes sleepy, and then she settled back down onto his chest.

But now, she was sitting up, wearing his t-shirt, leaning against his headboard with her knees drawn up to her chin.

'Hey,' Harry whispered. He climbed up beside her and pulled her close. 'What's wrong?' The ache inside her poured into him, and he clutched her more tightly.

She looked at him sadly. 'It's their birthday,' she sniffed.

'What?'

'Fred and George,' she whispered. 'It's April the first. Their birthday.'

April Fool's Day. Maybe Fred and George will show up at school today and announce it was all a bad joke.

Harry closed his eyes as she buried her face in his neck.

'Ron'll find them,' Harry said fiercely, so fiercely that he believed it at that moment. 'You'll see, Ginny.'

'What if he doesn't find them in time?' Ginny whimpered.

'Don't think like that,' Harry insisted. 'Ron'll find them in plenty of time, and they'll be okay.'

She looked up again at him, her face streaked with tears. 'Do you believe that?'

'We have to,' said Harry, brushing her tears away with his thumbs.

She took a deep breath and nodded, but then she sighed.

'I feel guilty,' she said.

'About what?'

'Last night,' said Ginny, looking at her knees.

'Oh,' said Harry, feeling a bit stung. 'Was it...not good?'

Ginny suddenly laughed, a real laugh. 'Good lord, Harry,' she said, smiling at him. She placed a hand on his cheek. 'It was amazing. I felt like I was flying and crashing at the same time.'

'Oh,' said Harry again. 'Well, good.'

'I just meant,' said Ginny, 'that I feel guilty that...that we did something like that last night, something that felt good...when...when everything's so bad right now.'

'Don't,' Harry begged. 'Ginny...please don't say you regretted that, okay? I know things are bad but...sometimes you're the only one who makes me feel alive and whole, like maybe someday we'll see this whole mess through and have something to look forward to.'

'You mean, like a...a future?' she said. 'Together?'

'Maybe,' he said, shrugging. 'I mean...it's probably mad to try and plan for too much, but...I love you and I want to be with you, even now in the middle of all this, especially now, because you're real, and we're real and this is real and good.'

Ginny's eyes filled again. 'I love you,' she whispered, and he hugged her fiercely. For a moment, he remembered all the times Susan had told him those same words, and he'd always loved hearing it, but it was different coming from Ginny. It was more...real, somehow, as though, when she said the words, they penetrated his very skin.

'I love you, too,' he said, and they held each other for a while. Then she stirred in his arms.

'I should go,' said Ginny, and she reached down to the foot of the bed where her clothes had been carelessly shoved, and began to dress. Harry watched her; her cheeks flushed with embarrassment when she pulled off his shirt, but she forced herself not to rush. The combination of her shyness and boldness was endearing; the sight of her body, of the freckles dusting her creamy skin--and they were everywhere--made the blood in Harry's body rush south again. He grabbed her hand.

'Do you have to go now?' he asked, as she reached for her jumper.

Her eyes skipped down to his crotch, where an erection was tenting his boxers.

'Harry,' she said, shaking her head. 'Yes, I should go. I'm starving, it's late and it'd be weird for me to be here and be seen by the other guys.'

Harry pouted, but he let go of her hand and got dressed himself.

'We can come back here later, though, can't we?' he asked.

She gave him a soft smile. 'Maybe,' she said. 'Now, come on, I'm starving and I need to--'

Whatever Ginny needed to do, Harry never found out, because suddenly someone burst into the boys' dormitory.

'Harry! Ginny!'

It was Hermione, and she sounded positively frantic.

Harry yanked open his bedcurtains; Ginny didn't seem to notice. Suddenly, propriety didn't seem all that important, and in any case the dormitory was empty but for the three of them, after all.

'Hermione, what's wrong?' said Harry, and suddenly he felt a horrible bubble of nausea. 'Is it Ron?'

'He's in the hospital wing,' said Hermione, and her eyes were wild and bright.

'What?' said Harry.

'What happened?' said Ginny. 'Is Ron okay?'

'I don't know,' said Hermione, and her eyes flooded with tears, but she wiped at them roughly. 'But apparently he found Fred and George.'