Posted: April 20, 2004

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter and am not using this story for financial gain.

The Bonded

Chapter Five

"Touchdown!" said Fred as, with a slight bump, the old turquoise colored car hit the ground. They had landed next to a tumbled down garage in a small yard, and Harry looked at, for the first time, the house that his wife grew up in. It looked just like he saw it in her memories, if a little older. It looked as though it had once been a large stone pigpen, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it were held up by magic (which, Harry reminded himself, it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, The Burrow. Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.

"It's not much," said Ron.

Harry smiled at his friend, "It's wonderful."

"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," said Fred. "And wait for Mum to call us to breakfast. Then, Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, 'Mum, look who turned up in the night!' and she'll be all pleased to see Harry and no one need ever know we flew the car."

Harry covered his smile with one hand. Do they honestly think that that will work? From what Ginny had told him, her brothers were supposed to be pretty good at covering their tracks around their mother. But from what he had heard about Mrs. Weasley, he was certain that she already knew about her sons' disappearance and was probably more than a little angry. Harry glanced at the house and had to hide a smile yet again, speak of the Devil….

"Right," said Ron. "Come on, Harry. I sleep at the – at the top –" Ron had gone a nasty greenish color, his eyes fixed on the house. The other two Weasley boys whirled around and Harry tried once more to cover his smirk. Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and for a short, plump, kind-faced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a saber-tooth tiger.

"Ah," said Fred.

"Oh dear," said George.

Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next, totally ignoring Harry's presence. She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand sticking out of the pocket. "So," she said.

"Morning, Mum," said George, in what he clearly thought was a jaunty, winning voice.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been," said Mrs. Weasley in a deadly whisper.

"Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to –"

Harry was treated to a wholly amazing sight. All three of Mrs. Weasley's sons were taller than she was, though even she was taller than Harry, but they cowered as her rage broke over them. "Beds empty! No note! Car gone – could have crashed – out of my mind with worry – did you care? – never, as long as I've lived – you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy --"

"Perfect Percy," muttered Fred, obviously not quiet enough.

"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred's chest. "You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job –" It seemed to go on for hours. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before she turned to Harry.

Harry looked the women in the eye, he had seen much more frightening things than an angry woman and he refused to cower in front of anyone. Molly eyed the boy up and down warily for a moment, as if looking for some hidden danger. Harry found this to be odd, as most people wouldn't believe to have anything to fear from a twelve year old. In his case they'd be wrong of course but that was beside the point. Mrs. Weasley seemed to decide that Harry wasn't going to attack her right then and there and said, "I'm…pleased to see you, Harry, dear. Come in and have some breakfast." She turned and walked back into the house and Harry followed her, not even pausing to see if Ron and the twins followed him.

The kitchen was small and rather cramped. There was a scrubbed wooden table and chairs in the middle, and Harry sat down on the edge of his seat, looking around. He had never been in a wizarding house and he was interested to see how it compared with others that he had seen.

Mrs. Weasley was clattering around, cooking breakfast a little haphazardly, throwing dirty looks at her sons as she threw sausages into the frying pan. Harry felt a sudden pain of longing as he missed his own kitchen and cooking breakfast with Ginny. If she was awake that is, she liked to get up early too but the times that Harry woke up were, as she put it anyway, "Insane hours that not even bats, owls, or the dead would be awake for." Harry felt his heart jump in affection for his wife and he quickly snapped his attention to the direction of the stairs as he sensed her approaching.

Ginny yawned as she sat up in bed and stretched her arms above her head languorously. She looked out her window on the second floor and saw that the sun had already risen an hour into the day. Ginny didn't normally sleep in this late but she had received a letter from Harry last night and waited until the rest of the house was asleep before reading it.

She felt across their bond that Harry was extremely amused about something and smiled to herself. The two didn't get very many laughs anymore but each one helped them through the separation. She hoped that it was a good one.

Stepping out of bed, Ginny pulled on a pair of Harry's fighting pants, they were too big for her to wear normally but she would wear his clothes every now and then. She snuggled a bit deeper into one of his silk shirts, they may have been large but they made great pajamas and after the initial shock, her family had gotten used to the idea of Ginny showing up to breakfast in them. Nobody knew they were Harry's of course but they all assumed it was one of the other brother's outfits.

She tied the waist string up snugly so the pants wouldn't fall down and wafted over to the door and padded down the stairs. She could hear her mother cooking breakfast in the kitchen though it sounded like she was angry about something from the amount of clanking coming from the room. Listening more carefully, she heard Ron and the twins talking over the table. That was a surprise; it was a rare day indeed when any of the males in the house woke up before her. Taking the last few steps she turned to see why they were up so early.

Before she could say anything, however, she was frozen in place by a pair of bright, emerald green eyes.

Ginny was shocked to say the least. She knew that Harry had befriended Ron during his time at Hogwarts but she never would have thought that friendship would land him right on her doorstep. She had resigned herself to not seeing Harry again until the beginning of the next school year but here he was…sitting at the table like he had been there forever. This was…this was a dream come true for Ginny. Oh, if only she could show just how truly content it made her feel.

Ron turned to ask Harry about his opinion on the state of the Cannon's Quidditch team but he noticed that Harry's attention was diverted toward the stairs. Following Harry's gaze, Ron saw that his best friend was staring at his youngest sister. He wasn't the only one that seemed to notice as Molly kept looking at Harry covertly while she pilled sausages onto everybody's plate. Ron was about to ask what was wrong when Harry stood up silently and breezed over to the smallest redhead.

Ginny watched as Harry walked over to her and stopped a foot in front of her. She was glad he stopped because she felt if he came any closer that she wouldn't be able to control herself from jumping into his arms and smothering him with kisses. He smiled confidently at her and she smiled shyly back, wondering what he was up to with all her family watching.

"Hi," Harry spoke up. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

Ginny pretended to blush and looked down at her feet. They had decided let Ginny act like a girl with a crush so they could explain away any accidents that they might have. "I'm Ginny."

Harry flashed her one of those smiles that made her knees go weak. "Ron has told me a lot about you. Would you join us for some breakfast?" Harry gave a sweeping bow and held out his hand for her to take. Ginny giggled and allowed him to lead her to the table were he pulled out a chair next to him for her to sit down in. She giggled once more and sat down.

Fred leaned over the table to Harry and told him in a low warning, "You better watch out, Potter. That's our baby sister you're flirting with."

Harry looked mockingly outraged, "Flirting! You accuse me of flirting? I was just trying to be polite and show some manners as your guest, which is more than I can say for some of us." He looked pointedly at Ron who was currently shoveling as much egg in his mouth as he could.

George laughed, "Too right. Just checking then, Harry; a bloke can't be too careful sometimes."

Molly watched her children and their friend eat with a small frown on her face. It had been two months since Ginny had woken up screaming and Molly hadn't forgotten what she had muttered on the brink of sleep. She had written Dumbledore that night but he didn't have any answers either.

This encounter between her youngest and the bespectacled boy only served to give her more questions. Harry may have tried to throw off his actions as politeness but Molly knew better. The look she saw on the two children's' faces when they first saw each other was one of pure love. It had only been a brief flash and an instant later their faces were quickly schooled into normal expressions, but there was an utter devotion in their eyes that scared the Weasley matriarch in its intensity.

The love was still there though. Had it been anybody else they would not have noticed but Molly knew everything about her daughter and she could see the love shining just behind her eyes. They sparkled with her adoration and looking closely, Molly could see that same adoration in Harry's as well.

Something was not right and she was going to find out what it was.

"Checkmate." Fred looked at the chessboard in despair. It seemed that once again he had lost to his younger brother. He just plain couldn't understand why or how Ron was such a formidable player but he was proud that his youngest brother had a skill that none could match. Being able to beat anyone in the Weasley family at chess was an accomplishment indeed. It seemed that the knowledge was passed through their blood; everyone in the family of redheads was quite skilled at the game.

However, Ron seemed to take to it like a fish to water. They sometimes joked that he had started playing before he was even born, perturbed by lack of players he could face while still within his mother. It was at the tender age of four that Ron won his first real game against Arthur, much to the families shock and delight. Among chess players round the world the Weasleys were on top, but among the Weasleys, Ron reigned supreme.

"Bed time!"

Well…almost supreme.

Fred looked up after hearing his mother's call and looked around the living room. Both he and Ron were laid out on the floor, the sixty-four square battleground spread between them. George, whom had been watching the game with interest, was snoozing soundly in an armchair to Fred's left. His head was hanging down from his shoulders at an odd angle from not being propped up when he had fallen asleep. Fred winced at the pain his twin was sure to be feeling when he got up.

He let his gaze fall to the other two occupants of the room. Ginny lay sideways on the couch, her small frame only taking up about half of the couch's length as she lay stretched out. A book was in her hands and from the looks of it, Fred could tell that it was not just a light novel or adventure book. Just in front of her, sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, was Harry Potter. Another rather large tome was propped up on his knees. Fred tried to see if he could read the title but from were he sat it looked to be in a different language.

Fred had read all about the Boy-Who-Lived. Growing up, it used to be one of his favorite bedtime stories. When McGonagall had called out his name at the welcoming feast last year, Fred, like everybody else, had craned his neck this way and that to get a look at the celebrity that was in their midst. The sight that had greeted his eyes was not at all what he had expected.

The small boy that sat timidly on the stool looked to be everything the opposite of Harry Potter. There was no confident posture, no smug look of greatness on his face, no aura of power wreathing around him like a tornado. Fred had been sorely disappointed by what he saw and he was certain that others had felt the same.

But then the young child had gone and gotten a position as the house team's seeker. As he slowly got to know the boy, Fred began to notice tiny details that hinted at the greatness of Harry Potter. He seemed to be a natural leader, though often doing it from the sidelines by giving quiet suggestions, never telling people what to do. Oliver Wood was the team's captain but he always had an ear open to hear suggestions from the first year. Everyone on the team did and more often then not they responded to them. The chasers especially tested out his suggestions, Katie even seemed to act like they were orders most of the time.

This natural ability to command was not all that Fred had noticed. He was walking down the halls one day when he had heard a little scuffle happening in one of the side corridors. Fred turned to see what was going on when he saw some first year Slytherins picking on another first year. Fred couldn't see who it was but decided that the present odds of five on one weren't all that nice and had decided to intervene when the matter had been taken out of his hands.

A beam of red light flashed and in the blink of an eye, the five Slytherins were down for the count. Fred blinked and looked up to see Harry rushing to the young Ravenclaw and helping her up. Harry glared at the downed Slytherins for a moment before turning back to the Ravenclaw and checking to see if she was alright. Fred had backed out of sight by then and continued on his way to class, thinking that maybe this was why Harry was a legend.

Fred shook his head from his musings and looked to his mother, whom stood next to the stairs, her hand placed on her hips. "Sorry, Mum," Fred asked her gently. "What did you say?"

Mrs. Weasley huffed at having to repeat herself, "I said its time for you to go to bed. Get upstairs already."

Fred glanced hurriedly around the room and saw that while he was busy daydreaming, Ron and George had already cleaned up and went to their rooms. Harry and Ginny however seemed to have not moved an inch, still calmly reading their books. Fred gave his mother a questioning glance to which she replied with a shooting glare. Not wanting to anger the matriarch even further after the events of this morning, Fred quickly gathered his things and rushed past the plump woman on his way up the stairs to his shared bedroom.

Molly watched the retreating back of her troublemaking son and made sure he was in his room before turning to the two youngest occupants in the house. She walked further into the living room and sat down on one of the comfortable armchairs Arthur's mother had given them as a wedding present. Harry and Ginny did not move an inch the entire time she had shooed the others off to bed. She watched them for a moment as they calmly continued to read, turning a page every now and than, yet far too often for a book of that size.

The air around them was calm and relaxed but an underlying tension filled the room. It was disconcerting to Molly to realize that these two children were much more than what they seemed to be. If Ginny had not had that dream, Molly doubted that she would ever have noticed something wrong with Harry and Ginny. What truly frightened her was that her own daughter could hide something so effectively that Molly was barely picking up on it. If she, Ginny's mother, could barely see something going on, others would never have a clue.

It was Harry that made the first move. "What did you want to talk about that the others couldn't be here for Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked, still perusing the pages of the tome in front of him.

Mrs. Weasley raised an eyebrow at the astute assumptions of the child. She noticed that her youngest had not given any notice to Harry's question and had in fact started to run her hand gently through the boy's messy black hair. It was yet another example of things going on that Molly didn't have answers for. She quickly decided that the best way to approach the two would be to do it straight forward and directly, no beating around the bush. "Well…you could start by explaining to me what your relationship with my daughter is." She waved her hand in Ginny's direction.

Harry closed his book softly and set down to his side. He looked at Mrs. Weasley's eyes for a few seconds, measuring her up and trying to judge her character. He finally answered her question with one of his own. "Do you happen to have any floo powder, Mrs. Weasley? There is another person that I think should be here for this."

Molly didn't like his evasive avoiding of the question but nodded towards a small pot on the fireplace mantle. The black haired youth stood up off the floor and made his way to the burning flames. He tossed some powder in the fire and spoke to someone on the other side of the flames. Their conversation was too soft for her to hear but it wasn't long before she heard the distinct sound of someone apparating into her kitchen. Harry stood up from the fireplace and brushed off his trousers. As he walked back to the couch and sat down at his previous spot, Molly looked to see had entered her home.

"Mum?" To say that Molly was surprised was a gross understatement. Out of all the people that she expected to come through that door her mother was not on that list.

Cynthia quickly took in the scene before her and understood why Harry had called her as this situation had a high potential to become rather nasty. She smirked when she noticed Ginny's idle playing with Harry's hair. It was a habit the girl had developed over the years and one that the married couple enjoyed so they saw no reason to stop. She turned to her daughter, "Hello dear." Cynthia traversed the floor and sat down in an armchair next to her daughter. "How are you doing? It's been a while since I've seen you."

Molly looked at her mother, flabbergasted at the way she calmly started a mundane conversation as if being called to her daughter's house by Harry Potter was something that happened all the time. Looking from her mother to Harry and her daughter and back, Molly couldn't find the words to start her questioning. Harry saw the women's predicament however and decided to give the poor woman a break; it was going to be a hard night for her after all.

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry said softly. "I am sorry to dump all this on you like this but you know your daughter too well for us to hide this from you. Please understand that though I will answer as many of your questions as I can, there are some things that I can not tell you for the safety of yourself and others." Harry discreetly waved his hand in a small little pattern; in very little time several wards were placed around the room to prevent anyone from listening in or interrupting.

"I am a mage, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said firmly. "And what is more, so are Ginny and your mother."
Molly let out a soft gasp. She knew about mages, the different magical societies were a required topic during the seventh year of Hogwarts. Mages usually took up a good bit of time despite the lack of firm facts that wizards have. From what she did remember, mages used only internal magic and therefore didn't need a wand or any other outside focus. She vaguely remembered something about increased life spans too but she couldn't recall any specifics. Looking towards her mother, Molly hoped that Cynthia could help her out.

However, it wasn't the aging mother that she knew that sat in the armchair next to her. The woman sitting there was like a picture out of Mrs. Weasley's childhood memories. It was Cynthia, but it was a Cynthia that looked to be about thirty years of age. "Hello, dear," Cynthia said in the exact same tone she had before.

Looking back over at the children, Molly saw that Ginny and Harry had also changed. Now standing in front of the couch, Harry and Ginny had reverted to their normal bodies, hands clasped and an anxious look on their faces. It was an astounding thing to see. Just moments before she had been talking to two twelve year olds and now she was gaping at two adults that were nineteen years of age.

Harry watched the matriarch carefully and saw that she was taking the news a lot better than he could have hoped. Seeing no adverse affects, Harry decided to let her in on the next bit of news. Concentrating a bit, Harry let the spell that he had placed over his and Ginny's wedding rings disperse, so that anybody could see the gold bands on their fingers.

Molly didn't know what to do, it was a difficult thing to grasp, her daughter being a mage and currently nineteen years old but the proof was here in front of her eyes. As she looked her daughter over critically, to make certain that nothing was too out of place, she saw a flash of gold on Ginny's hand. Looking closer, Mrs. Weasley could see the beautiful wedding ring that adorned the girl's left hand. Quickly looking towards Harry she saw a simple gold band on his hand as well.

"Y-You…You're m-m-married?"

Harry looked at the woman's gaze, seeing that her eyes were focused on the wedding rings. She had picked up on that fact a lot quicker than he had thought she would. Ginny gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and he appreciated the gesture. He nodded slightly, "Yes, Mrs. Weasley. We have been married for almost a year and a half now."

Molly gaped like a fish out of water for a few seconds before she did what any other sensible person would do. She fainted.

Ginny watched Gilderoy Lockhart deliver his bombastic speech with one arm draped around Harry and smirked slightly to herself. Harry looked like he wanted to do nothing more than blast the pompous buffoon out of existence. It's almost worth it… Ginny mused to herself. If it got rid of that parasite on the world, maybe revealing their positions as mages wouldn't be too bad. She chuckled at the thought of how the world would take that.

Probably worse than Mum did. It was true that Molly had taken the news concerning Harry and Ginny remarkably well. Cynthia had helped a great deal in that respect. After they had revived Ginny's mother, Cynthia stepped in and took control of the situation with a firm hand, guiding the conversation to exactly the pertinent information so that Molly wouldn't have time to panic.

Surprisingly, once the redheaded matriarch had gotten over the fact that her daughter was now nineteen and married she warmed up to the idea rather fast. Ginny pulled out the wedding photos and the three females poured over the album while Harry watched on in amusement. They made certain, however, that Molly was aware of the importance of keeping this a secret and that she continue to treat Harry and Ginny normally. It would not do for the rest of the world to learn of this.

Harry made his way over to her with the armload of Lockhart books and tipped them into her cauldron. "Here," he said. "You can have these. I'll get my own –"

"I bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter," said a voice behind her. She turned to see who was calling her when she realized that nobody here knew of their marriage and was most likely calling Harry. Sure enough, when she completed her turn she saw a pale, blonde haired boy wearing a rather offensive sneer.

"Famous Harry Potter," said the boy. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

Ginny didn't know why but she found herself immediately disliking this young boy that stood in front of her and Harry. "Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" said Ginny. She knew that Harry hated the extra attention and special treatment that he got. He didn't mind if he deserved it but for something that happened when he was one he could not claim any credit.

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" drawled the boy.

Ginny smirked, If only you knew… if only you knew. She saw Ron and Hermione fighting their way through the crowd, both clutching stacks of Lockhart books.

"Oh it's you," said Ron, looking at the mean boy as if he were something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"

Ginny scowled at her brother, she loved him dearly but sometimes he needed to know what to say and what not to say. Using your friend as a way to elevate your status and as a way to attack your enemies fell into the later category. She knew that her husband was patient and forgiving but even he could be pushed beyond certain limits and if Ron kept that sort of attitude up he would find himself short one leg of a tripod.

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted the blonde. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those." Ginny shook her head as Ron went red and started towards the sneering boy, but Harry and Hermione held him back. She would never understand her brother's rage at being poor. So what if they couldn't afford brand new items all the time? They made do and stayed together as a family, there were far worse things in the world than being poor.

"Ron," said Mr. Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well – Arthur Weasley." It was Mr. Lucius Malfoy. This would make the young blonde his son Draco. Lucius stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering in just the same way. It really was amazing how the two looked so much alike when they did that.

"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly. Ginny began to wonder just how far back the Weasley-Malfoy rivalry really went.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "All those raids…I hope they are paying you overtime?" He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of a Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. "Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of a wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley flushed even darker then Ron. Ginny began to back up out of the line of fire and could see Harry doing the same next to her. "We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," Arthur said.

"Clearly," said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. "The company you keep, Weasley…and I thought your family could sink no lower –"

Ginny dropped her cauldron with a heavy thud and was about to use her now free hands to send a nasty hex at the older Malfoy before Harry's grip on her arm stopped her. Mr. Weasley had already thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down around them and they covered their heads to avoid injury. There was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred of George followed by Mrs. Weasley shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!" While all this was going on the crowd stampeded backward and knocking even more shelves over in a rush to get out of the line of fire.

Ginny was watching her Daddy struggling against Mr. Malfoy when her eyes caught onto the movements Mr. Malfoy was making with his cane as he swung at Gin's father. Glancing over to Harry she saw that he too had already picked up on the movements. Lucius was using a sword fighting style dating back several hundred years. It appeared that not all wizards were as ignorant to muggle fighting techniques as they thought.

"Break it up there gents, break it up –" Hagrid was wading toward them trough the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy had the beginnings of a black eye, courtesy of a copy of Encyclopedia of Toadstools. He was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her as if it were going to bite him, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Here girl – take your book – it's the best your father can give you –" Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip he beckoned to Draco and swept out of the shop.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," said Hagrid, almost lifting Mr. Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. "Rotten to the core, the whole family; everyone knows that – no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter – bad blood, that's what it is – come on now – let's get outta here." The shop assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them from leaving, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seemed to think better of it.

Ginny watched with some amusement as her father carefully placed himself between herself and Harry. It had been something Arthur had been doing ever since her mother had told him about Ginny and her husband. They hurried up the street; the Grangers shaking with fright and Mrs. Weasley beside herself with fury.

"A fine example to set for your children…" Ginny tuned out her mother's rant and looked through her cauldron of books to see if anything was missing. Her eyes fell on a small black book that she didn't remember buying and she pulled it out of the cauldron. Flipping through the pages she couldn't see any writing or identifying marks. She shrugged and tossed it back into the cauldron, she would look at it later.

Harry glared around the room at the gathered occupants. He was once again meeting with the mages in the astronomy tower and he was far from happy with the information they were telling him. Things were in dire straits and Harry didn't know how he could fix them. Dumbledore had been ousted from his position as headmaster, Hagrid was in the wizard's prison, Hermione was sitting in the hospital wing petrified, and nine tenths of the school believed Harry to be the one carrying out the attacks.

"I don't know what else to tell you, Sir," Sinistra said from her position across from him. "Hagrid was expelled from school, accused of directing the attacks the first time like you saw in that diary but none of the genealogy trees connect Hagrid to Slytherin. And as far as anyone knows, Voldemort has been the only one in living memory that has declared themselves as being the heir."

Harry growled; he knew all this already. "Have we found the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets yet?"

Katie Bell shook her head, "The teachers have combed the school from top to bottom several times. I myself have checked twice and I can find no magical doorway to the Chamber. It could be something as simple as a door hidden behind a painting but if it is, it is hidden very, very well."

Harry slammed his fist on the table, snarling in anger, "God damn it! This school is being attacked from the inside out and we don't have a clue about what is even going on! It isn't going to be much longer before someone dies again and then what will happen? We need to end this and we need to end it now!"

His lieutenants didn't say anything and Harry rubbed his forehead, letting off a deep sigh. He wished Ginny where here, she was able to see things where Harry couldn't but she had gone to bed early. And there's another mystery…, Harry thought worriedly. Something had been bothering Ginny lately and Harry didn't know what it was. He did know that whatever was going on, it was messing up with their bond. The other night Harry woke up in a panic because he couldn't feel Ginny at all. He had run to the girl's dormitory (avoiding the stairs turning into a slide by a magically aided jump) and was quite glad when he saw her sleeping peacefully on her bed. The bond had only been gone for a minute but it was long enough to frighten Harry deeply. The bond had never faulted before and he didn't like that it was doing so now, or ever for that matter. Unfortunately he couldn't ask her about it due to an annoying inability to find time to be alone with her.

Harry looked up to the others, "Okay despite what is going on with the school now, how is everything else holding?"

It was Cedric that answered this one, "Well Katie and I have found some people who are interested in training with us in fighting techniques. That will bring the group up to ten if we include the few that were training with us before."

"Good, keep it at that number for now. I don't want anybody to get too suspicious if everyone is starting to learn how to fight. Make certain that you teach them about fighting as a unit and prepare them for taking orders. They will be an absolute last line of defense but if I need them, I want them to be ready."

"Right," Cedric nodded.

"Sinistra?" Harry turned towards the eldest in their party.

"I have a few students that I think would make excellent spies. With your permission, I would like to train them up and set them to work within the year. Maybe then we can stave off another incident like this."

"You have permission, get on it." The meeting didn't last much longer and Harry made his way back to Gryffindor tower, silent as a cat and worried about the fate of the school as well as his wife.

Harry and Ron paced around the deserted staff room excitedly. For the first time in months Harry understood what was going on. He knew where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was and he knew what resided inside of it. The only thing he did not know was who was giving the orders to the snake. Suddenly, Harry felt his insides freeze and he sank slowly to his knees. He could no longer feel Ginny through the bond.

"Oh no…oh goddess no…" Harry muttered softly, clutching his heart. The emptiness he felt inside of him was enough to make him want to die. What had happened?

"All students are to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers are to go to the staff room. Immediately, please."

Ron whirled around to face Harry and saw him there, collapsed on his knees. "What happened? What's wrong Harry, are you alright?" Harry couldn't answer for fear that he would break down crying if he did. "Should we go back to the dormitory?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head and gestured to a wardrobe on his left, full of the teachers' cloaks. Hiding themselves inside it, they watched between the musty folds of the cloaks as the teachers filtered into the room. Some of them were looking puzzled, others downright scared. Then Professor McGonagall arrived.

"It has happened," she told the silent staff room. "A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself."

Professor Flitwick let out a squeak and fell right off his chair. Professor Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth. Snape gripped the back of a chair very hard and said, "How can you be sure?"

"The Heir of Slytherin," said Professor McGonagall, who was very white, "left another message. Right underneath the first one, 'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.'

"Who was it?" said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed, into a chair. "Which student?"

Harry felt a cold fear grip his heart as he knew for a certainty whom it was. "Ginny Weasley," said Professor McGonagall. Harry felt Ron slide silently down onto the wardrobe floor beside him. He saw Sinistra tense up and a look of unbridled fury wash over her face. "We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow," continued McGonagall. "This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said…"

The staffroom door banged open again and Lockhart stood in the opening, beaming. "So sorry, I dozed off…what have I missed?" He didn't seem to notice that the other teachers were looking at him with something remarkably like hatred. Snape stepped foreword.

"Just the man," he said. "The very man. A girl has been taken by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets. Your moment has come at last." Lockhart blanched.

"That's right, Gilderoy," chipped in Professor Sprout. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"I – well, I –" sputtered Lockhart. Harry felt a cold fury towards this man. If he had indeed known this information and done nothing about it than Lockhart was going to pay. In the mind of Harry, he had just helped contribute to what had happened to this school.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" piped up Flitwick.

"D-did I? I don't recall –"

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested," said Snape. "Didn't you say the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free reign from the first?"

Lockhart stared around at his stony faced colleagues. "I-I really never – you may have misunderstood –"

"We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy," said Professor McGonagall. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free reign at last."

Lockhart gazed desperately around him, but nobody came to the rescue. He didn't look remotely handsome anymore. His lip was trembling, and in the absence of his usually toothy grin, he looked weak-chinned and feeble. "V-very well," he said. "I'll – I'll be in my office, getting – getting ready." And he left the room.

"Right," said Professor McGonagall, whose nostrils were flared, "that's got him out from under our feet. The heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories?"

The teachers rose and left, one by one.

Harry looked up at the tunnel ceiling. Huge cracks had appeared in it from the stress caused by the cave in. They didn't look very stable so it didn't seem to be a good idea to blast away at the rocks and cause another rockslide. Ron was cursing to himself on the other side and Harry could hear him shifting some of the rocks. They were wasting too much time. Ginny had already been in the Chamber of Secrets for hours…Harry knew there was only one thing left to do.

"Wait there," he called to Ron. "Wait with Lockhart. I'll go on…if I'm not back in an hour…" There was a very pregnant pause.

"I'll try and shift some of this rock," said Ron, who seemed to be trying to keep his voice steady. "So you ca – can get back through. And, Harry –"

"See you in a bit," said Harry, not letting Ron finish. Turning, he set off alone past the giant snakeskin. His mind was awhirl with thoughts on how to defeat this monstrous snake. From what he remembered, basilisks were extremely resistant to magic so that put a damper on things. Also Harry wouldn't be able to look at the snake so his fighting skills would be diminished as well as his aim. The odds all seemed to be against him.

Soon the distant noise of Ron straining to shift the rocks was gone. The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in Harry's body was tingling unpleasantly. He wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he'd find when he did. And then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, he saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glittering emeralds.

Harry approached his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real; their eyes looked strangely alive. He could guess what he had to do. He cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker. "Open," said Harry in a faint hiss. The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Harry walked inside.

He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. Then as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, were two enormous grey feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown laid a small, black-robed figure with flaming red hair.

Harry's heart jumped as he saw his lovely wife lying crumpled on the floor. He sprinted over to her still form and dropped to his knees. He cradled her lithe body in his hands, shaking. "Ginny, Ginny, come on Ginny. I need you to wake now, love. I need you to wake up and look at me again and we need to get out of here and I promise that I will never leave your side again and we'll leave all this behind and have a family…oh goddess Gin, wake up!"

Harry was boarding on hysterical now. The bond had been cut off and no matter his efforts, Ginny was not stirring. He didn't want to see what life was like without his wife but she would not wake. Harry brushed away some of the tears that fell down his cheeks. As he looked into his beloved's face, white and as cold as marble, he felt a cold rage wash over him. If it took the rest of his life, he would find out who caused this and make them pay. The basilisk was going to die tonight and its master would soon follow.

"She won't wake," said a soft voice.

Harry jumped and spun around on his knees wondering who could have snuck up on him like that. A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him – "Tom – Tom Riddle?" Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes of Harry's face. "What do you mean, she won't wake?" Harry said desperately turning to look at his wife once more. "She's not – she's not –?"

"She's still alive," said Riddle. "But only just." Harry stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen. Harry frowned as he tried to feel Riddle's magic but sensed nothing, it was like Riddle wasn't even there.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry said uncertainly.

"A memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years." He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. For a second Harry had wondered how it had gotten there – but there were more pressing matters to deal with. With Riddle here he couldn't use any of his mage abilities but he could enlist Riddle to help him.

"You've got help me, Tom," Harry said, settling Ginny in a more comfortable position. "We've got to get out of here….There is a basilisk and I won't be able to defend us while I carry her." Harry reached for his wand on the floor next to him but found it was gone. "Did you see –?"

He looked up to see his wand being twirled through Riddle's long fingers. A smile was curled on the young man's mouth that really annoyed Harry for some reason. "Come on Tom. We've got to go…I don't know when the basilisk will be back…"

"It won't come until it is called," said Riddle calmly. Something about the way Tom was acting and what he had just said sent warning flags up in Harry's head. He softly lowered Ginny back to the ground; he would need his hands free. Harry stood up to his full height of five feet four and looked at Riddle's towering figure of six feet.

"Could you give me my wand back?" Harry asked politely. "I might end up needing it."

Riddle's smile broadened, "You won't be needing it." Harry simply stared at him. "I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," said Riddle. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you. That is why we are here." Riddle stopped twirling Harry's wand and put it in his pocket.

Harry narrowed his eyes, "How did Ginny get like this?"

"Well, that is an interesting question," said Riddle pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?" said Harry.

"The diary," said Riddle. "My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes – how her brothers tease her, how she doesn't have many friends, how" – Riddle's eyes glinted – "how she missed her wonderful, loving husband, Harry Potter…"

Harry's heart froze. Ginny must have been hurting from their separation far more than he had ever realized if she was willing to risk writing information like that down. But information written in the diary was absorbed into it so she must have felt it was okay. Where does the information go? It has to have a storage place of some type, unless…Harry looked up at Riddle sharply.

"I see you began to understand, Milord Phoenix." Riddle nearly spat the words. "Ginny poured her soul into me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted….I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Mrs. Potter. Powerful enough to start taking my own form." Tom paused as if a revelation came to him. "I guess that it's not really her fault. Your kind being so susceptible to…outside influences if you will."

Of course, Harry thought. Mind control. It was the main weakness of a mage. Tuning ones body to their internal energies and creating conduits for that energy throughout the body is what allowed mages to live their long life spans and instantaneous access to their magic. Unfortunately, the pathways were so effective and numerous that outside energies could also flow through them.

Someone using a spell such as the Imperius curse would find easy entrance into a mage's mind with absolutely no mental or physical blocks to prevent them from taking over. Once the original hook was set, there was absolutely no way for a mage to fight the curse. Wizards could often break out of the curse in time because their energy flow was not as complete and there would be parts of the mind that the curse doesn't reach.

There was one way for a mage to fight the curse, however. If a mage let their energy flow through their body it would interfere with the energy from the curse and all other outside influences. This stopped the Imperius curse from affecting the mages but meant that they had to keep their energy flowing at all times. It didn't cause too much strain on the user, especially if they were used to it, but it allowed others to detect ones presence.

Since he had been on his guard when using the diary himself, Riddle had not been able to control Harry. He and Ginny had not been doing this process all the time though, there were simply too many teachers in the school that would start asking questions about why two twelve year olds had so much power. From the time Ginny first wrote in the diary, she was under Riddle's power. Anger coursed through Harry and his nails were biting into his palm. But there must be a power source…something that has allowed him to take over in the first place.

"Yes," Riddle continued on. "I always found it fascinating how you mages always seemed prepared for battle. Even during times of long peace it was noted that mages were viciously destructive during fights. Even more interesting, is that your largest weakness is exactly what any ruler would want. An easily controllable warrior…a perfect weapon. Such a weapon that could hide from wizards so easily would have been perfect for my war against the filthy Mudbloods…."

"Well you failed this time," Harry said quietly. "Not one of the victims has died and by tomorrow morning they will all be up and well."

Riddle waved a hand dismissively, "Killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore. For many months now my target has been you, Harry Potter. I want to know, how is that you – a small, skinny boy – managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

"Why do you care?" said Harry slowly. "Voldemort was after your time…."

"Voldemort," said Riddle softly, "is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter…" He pulled Harry's wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words:

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

"You see?" he whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins run the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No Harry – I fashioned myself a new name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

Harry smirked, a cold smile and looked at Riddle square in eye. "You never were, you know. I can think of several people off the top of my head that were far greater than you ever were. You yourself were terrified of Dumbledore, never trying for an assault on Hogwarts…"
Riddle opened his mouth to retort but froze. Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down at the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, and unearthly; Harry recognized it immediately, feeling it vibrating through his bones, setting his blood aflame. Harry watched the phoenix fly straight towards him before it dropped the ragged object that it carried in its' talons at Harry's feet.

"That's a phoenix…" said Riddle, staring shrewdly back at it. "And that –" said Riddle, now eyeing the object at Harry's feet, "that's the old school Sorting hat –" Riddle began to laugh so hard that the dark chamber rang with it's cold calculation. It was if there were ten Riddles, all laughing at once. "Well than Harry, let us match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, the Lord Phoenix and the best weapons he has…."

He cast an amused look towards Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, and then walked away. Harry watched Riddle stop between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed…. "Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."

Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue. Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Harry saw the mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole. Something was stirring inside the statue's mouth, slithering up from the depths. Harry backed up and shut his eyes tightly, his only defense against the killing stare of the basilisk.

Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber. Harry felt it shudder – using his senses, Harry could tell what was going on, he could almost see the giant serpent uncoiling itself and turning towards Harry. The basilisk was moving now, moving toward Harry; he could hear the heavy body slithering across the floor. Eyes still shut tightly, Harry quickly moved to the center of the Chamber to give himself room to maneuver.

The attack never came though and Harry heard the snake trashing about and Fawkes' wings beating against the air. Opening his eyes just a crack to see what was going on. The enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, had raised itself high into the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As Harry trembled, ready to close his eyes if it turned, he saw what was distracting the snake. Fawkes was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs long and thin as sabers.

Fawkes dived. His long golden beak sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The snake's tail thrashed, narrowly missing Harry, and before Harry could shut his eyes, it turned – Harry looked straight into its face and saw that its eyes, both its great bulbous yellow eyes, had been punctured by the phoenix; blood was streaming to the floor, and the snake was spitting in agony.

"NO!" Harry heard Riddle screaming. "Leave the bird! Leave the bird! The boy is behind you! You can still smell him! Kill him!" The blinded serpent swayed, confused, still deadly. Fawkes was circling its head, piping his song, jabbing here and there at its scaly nose as the blood poured from its ruined eyes.

The snake's long tail swept across the floor again and Harry had to duck to prevent being hit. His arms were suddenly full of a soft fabric. The basilisk had swept the Sorting Hat into Harry's arms. He took the hat and placed it on his head. With all the knowledge the founders gave, do you have any tips on how to kill a basilisk? Harry questioned the hat wryly.

There was no answering voice. Instead, the hat contracted, as though an invisible hand was squeezing it tightly. Something hard and heavy thudded on top of Harry's head, almost knocking him out. Stars winking in front of his eyes, he grabbed the top of the hat to pull it off and felt something long and hard beneath it. A gleaming silver sword had appeared inside the hat, its handle glittering with rubies the size of eggs.

"Kill the boy! Leave the bird! The boy is behind you! Sniff – smell him!"

Harry was on his feet at the ready, thankful for the sword he now held in his hands. He would have preferred his own but that would have attracted Ron's attention. He swung the silver weapon around a few times, testing its balance and speed. The basilisk's head was falling, its body coiling around, hitting pillars as it twisted to face him.

The snake lunged towards Harry whom quickly side stepped, bringing the sword up to cut the neck of the snake as it went by. Blood splashed across Harry's vision and the snake turned to lunge again. Harry dodged the other way this time cutting the snake once more but as he stepped back, his feet slipped on a piece of rubble and that was all the serpent needed.

The basilisk lunged again, its aim true – Harry hastily brought the sword up and threw his entire weight behind the sword as he drove it through the roof of the snake's mouth and into its brain. But the stumble had cost Harry, and as the sword crushed through the beast's pallet, Harry felt one of the venomous fangs pierce his arm, splintering as the basilisk keeled over sideways and fell, twitching, to the floor.

Harry slid down a wall. He gripped the fang that was spreading poison through his body and wrenched it out of his arm. But he knew it was too late. White-hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wound. Even as he dropped the fang and watched his own blood soaking more of his robes, his vision went foggy. The Chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull color.

A patch of scarlet swam past, and Harry heard a soft clatter of claws beside him. "Fawkes," said Harry thickly. "You were fantastic, Fawkes…." He felt the bird lay its beautiful head on the spot where the serpent's fang had pierced him. He could hear echoing footsteps and then a dark shadow moved in front of him.

"You're dead, Harry Potter," said Riddle's voice above him. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he is doing, Potter? He's crying."

Harry blinked. Fawkes' head slid in and out of focus. Thick, pearly tears were trickling down the glossy feathers. Of course, Harry thought dully. Phoenix tears have healing properties!

"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time, I'm in no hurry."

Harry nearly snarled, Good you bastard, you just sit there and in a minute I'm going to get up and kill you several times over for what you've done to Ginny. The Chamber was slowly coming back into focus and Harry felt the blood flowing from the wound stop.

"Get away, bird," said Riddle's voice suddenly. "Get away from him – I said, get away –" Harry raised his head. Riddle was pointing Harry's wand at Fawkes; there was a bang like a gun, and Fawkes took flight again in a whirl of gold and scarlet. Harry stood up, sword in hand. "Phoenix tears…" said Riddle quietly, staring at Harry's arm. " Of course…healing powers…I forgot…" He looked into Harry's face. "But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter…you and me…"

"You will wish that the snake had killed me off, Tom." Harry brought the sword up into a ready position and Riddle raised the wand. In the blink of an eye they both reacted, Tom sending a curse towards Harry and Harry dashing to the left and foreword. The curse missed Harry but the sword went right through Tom's middle. It took a moment for Harry to realize that there was no blood, no scream, no cutting sensation. He still doesn't have any permanence!

Another curse blasted into Harry's chest and he went flying across the room. Riddle laughed his high, cold laugh, "You will find that physical attacks don't affect me, Potter." Harry groaned standing up from were he had landed. Riddle was right; he would just have to kill Tom from the source…but what was it?

In a rush of wings, Fawkes had soared back overhead and something fell at Harry's feet – the diary. For a split second, both Harry and Riddle looked at the object before comprehension lit up on both their faces. With one swift move, Harry plunged the sword straight through the diary, twisting the sword to make the hole as big as possible.

There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then—he was gone. Harry's wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence, except from the drip, drip, drip of ink and blood falling from Harry's robes. Shaking all over, Harry gathered up his wand, the sword, and the diary, and made his way over to his waking wife.

Gathering her into his arms as he knelt beside her on the cold stone floor, Harry watched his beloved's eyes flutter open. Her gaze fell upon Harry and she giving a startled cry, wrapped her arms around his neck before giving him a fierce, passionate kiss. Harry felt the bond connect once again between them and sighed in relief as he could feel that she was all right.

Ginny broke the kiss between them and looked around at the dead basilisk and trilling phoenix. She looked into Harry's eyes once more. "Harry, dear…w-what happened? Why are you covered in blood? What is the snake and phoenix doing her-?" Harry placed his finger on her lips to shush her.

"It's okay," he said softly. "Everything's okay and will be alright. Now, come on," he said getting to his feet. "We've got some explaining that we have to do." And the young…adult couple made their way to the end of the chamber, hand in hand, rings glowing brightly in the gloom.