Title: The Vastus Augustus Memorial Hospital

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter; I do not.

Notes: Big 'ole thanks to my beta, le Manchot du Destin for her spectacular skills. Another big thanks to the following people: lindsay, The Zazu, PinkytheSnowman, lizzie5555555, Synthiacat, Jessiquie, Manchot (you read it a whole bunch of times each chapter!), Greek Falcon, Voltor, A Cute But Psycho Bunny, and Taryn for reading along.

Also, thanks to Koonelli for her great comments on Missing Moments. She writes terrific one-shots... read them if you are searching for something good.

aaannndd Allycat76 for finding Love and Loathing at Hogwarts fun AND for reviewing even though it's finished. Not too many people will do that and I just want you to know that I appreciate it!

anyhow... here we go.

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"Did you hear that Oliver Wood joined the Montrose Magpies?" Ron asked Harry.

They were sitting in the drawing room pretending to help Hermione research charms for the map she was working on. Neither Ron nor Harry was any good at performing charms or researching them, so whenever she would leave the room they would pull out the Exploding Snap cards and play a quick game. Ron's eyebrows had just been singed for the umpteenth time in ten minutes. Harry's, however, were still completely intact.

"Good look for you, mate," Harry said, smiling. "And no, I thought he was up for captain of Puddlemore United this year?"

"I guess he decided he'd rather captain the Magpies. D'you think it has anything to do with Katie Bell playing for them?" Ron asked as he tossed another card down atop the pile.

"Dunno, they broke up a while ago. You know… if they get Alicia Spinnet to play they'll have more than half the old Gryffindor Quidditch team back." Harry replied. He stopped for a second, "Damn, I think I hear Hermione–quick, shove these under the coffee table."

The two men pushed every last blackened card underneath the table and frantically grabbed for the closest books. Hermione entered, looking a bit pink in the cheeks, and eying her friends suspiciously.

"I'm not sure I even want to know what you were doing," she said decidedly.

They both tried to muster innocent expressions. "Are you trying to insinuate something, love?" Ron said sweetly.

"You've got a bit of ash on your chin and Harry's reading his book upside-down... next time you try to sneak a game of Exploding Snap in under my nose you'd best pay attention to details," she smirked.

Ron had just opened his mouth to retort when the fireplace behind them sparked to life with green flames. After a second, Minerva McGonagall's head appeared in the flames. When she saw the three people sitting in the drawing room her tight features formed a warm smile.

"Hello Weasley, Hermione... Potter, you needed to talk to me?"

"Hi Professor McGonagall, yeah I...." Harry started to say.

"Oh phooey with that Professor title; I haven't been your Professor in quite some time, now have I? Minerva will be fine, Potter."

"Err–okay, Minerva." It felt a bit odd to be on a first name basis with such a highly esteemed and respected witch. Harry definitely didn't consider himself to be Minerva McGonagall's equal but if she would rather him call her by her first name, then he wasn't about to argue. "I was wondering if I could borrow Professor Dumbledore's Pensieve for a bit–Remus asked about it a few days ago."

"It is yours, Potter. I'm surprised you haven't asked for it before now. I could just OWL it to you."

"Err–actually," he shot a look at Hermione, "Hermione needs to–erm–use the library at Hogwarts... if that's alright with you. I thought I'd just come with her and pick it up myself."

"Wonderful!" Minerva's expression livened up, "I'll make a deal with you; I'll let you two use the library if the both of you will come and speak to the first year Defense Against the Dark Arts classes."

Harry thought this over for a second. He really wasn't a great public speaker. He tried to recall the number of times he spoke in front of the D.A. back at Hogwarts. Shooting a look at Hermione he saw that the prospect of getting to share her wealth of knowledge was making her almost quiver with excitement. She nodded vigorously at him and he turned back to Prof–Minerva. "Alright… that sounds like a fair trade. Although I'm sure Professor Parry could tell them loads more then I ever could."

"You underestimate yourself, Mr. Potter." A thoughtful expression was imprinted upon her face. "Well, then what about this Thursday? I trust you need the Pensieve soon?"

Harry nodded, "It would help."

"And how will you be arriving?"

Ron snorted and shot Harry a devilish look, "You could... apparate onto the grounds."

Oh no.

Hermione omitted a low snarling noise in the back of her throat. "You. Can't. Apparate. Near. Hogwarts." Then, she crossed the room, violently pulled a book off the shelf, stomped back over to Ron and thrust it into his hands.

Hogwarts, a History (revised and rewritten)

Minerva wore an expression of amusement on her face.

Harry cleared his throat. "Well, we'll either ride the Knight Bus" (Hermione sniffed), "or err–I guess we could apparate into Hogsmeade and walk to the castle from there. It's not too cold out yet."

"Yes, well... either way is fine. I believe the first class begins at eleven with the Gryffindors. They'll be so excited to have you!"

"Thank you, Professo–errr–Minerva!" Hermione said excitedly, "We'll start planning our lesson straight away!"

Harry shot her a disbelieving look.

Minerva's head bobbed up and down in the fireplace. "Oh, and Potter–your Aunt and Uncle have been trying to get a hold of you. They sent me an owl yesterday evening saying they needed to speak with you and weren't sure where you were staying."

Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had OWLed Hogwarts? He wasn't aware they knew how to use an owl. What could they possibly have to say to him after three years of silence? "Erm–did the letter say anything else?"

"Only that someone had been trying to get in touch with you and could I pass the message along to you." She stopped for a second and then added, "Oh, and they said if you were planning on stopping at Privet Drive to dress normally–although I believe they used a rather vile word. Charming Muggles, aren't they?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all laughed.

"Well then, I'll see the two of you later on this week!"

With another flash of green light, the head of their old Transfiguration teacher disappeared.

"What d'you reckon your Aunt and Uncle want?" Ron asked.

"Dunno–can't be good though. I haven't had a letter from them in ages; not since I left Hogwarts and they told me never to come back. Think I should go see them?" he asked Ron and Hermione.

"I wouldn't," Ron said, pushing Hermione's book out of his lap and pulling out the Exploding Snap cards again.

"Well, you should at least see what they want," Hermione argued. "Maybe they want to apologize for being so awful to you."

"Yeah and maybe Dudley's lost two-hundred-seventy-five pounds, married Keira Knightly, and had nine beautiful children," Harry said sarcastically, taking the cards Ron was thrusting toward him.

Ron shook with laughter.

Hermione pursed her lips together and eyed them both, "Well, it won't kill you to visit."

Harry eyed her incredulously, "No, but it might just kill them." Then, seeing Hermione's serious expression he sighed in defeat, "Fine, I'll go–but can I at least send them ten owls beforehand and wear bright, twinkling star covered robes and a tall pointed hat?"

Hermione ignored the latter comment. "Are you going in to work today?"

Harry nodded, "I have dueling drills with Al this afternoon. After that I thought I'd start planning the next D.A. meeting."

"When are we going to see what's left of your grandparent's house?" Ron asked, throwing a card down onto the pile. Three seconds later the entire stack blew up. This time he had the good sense to cover his eyebrows.

"Remus said sometime next week. Are either of you going in to work?"

Hermione shook her head, "I can get just as much done here as in the office; and I don't have to worry about Gilbert's horns poking me in the eye."

"He still hasn't gotten them removed?" Ron asked.

She gave a hearty sigh, "No, he told me a week ago that the Healers at St. Mungo's still can't find a counterjinx. Between the three of us though, I think he rather likes them. It's been seven years for goodness sake!"

"I'm heading up to Azkaban to talk to Malfoy today." Ron visibly shuddered.

Harry had a hunch that Malfoy wasn't going to be cooperative. Unless they offered him some kind of deal, he probably wouldn't tell them anything. He gave Ron credit for trying though. After wishing Ron good luck and saying goodbye to Hermione, Harry decided he should probably start getting ready to go into the Ministry.


Hermione walked softly up the stairs, turned the corner to open the water closet door and ran headlong into Ginny. She was holding her wand in between her teeth and tying her hair up in a short ponytail.

"Hey, I thought you'd left already," Hermione remarked as she watched Ginny tuck her t-shirt into her jeans.

Ginny pulled her wand out of her mouth and stuck it into the belt loop of her pants. "I don't have to be in until one." She crossed the hallway and pushed her bedroom door open, Hermione at her heels.

"I didn't get a chance to ask how your stakeout went the other day," Hermione said as she flopped down on the bed opposite Ginny's. "You don't mind me being in here, do you?"

Ginny shook her head and grinned, "It's your room too, yeah?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Your poor mum and dad… if only they knew."

Ginny started digging through the mess of clothes strewn about her closet, "Ron had better tell them soon or it'll just get worse." She disappeared under a large green object and reemerged with two different colored shoes. "That won't do," she groaned.

"How can you stand the mess?" Hermione asked, eyeing the floor warily.

Ginny shrugged and started tugging at a matching blue trainer stuck under an upturned chair. "The stakeout went alright—kind of boring though. Narcissa hasn't gone anywhere for months."

"And Harry still has all his body parts—the ones visible to the common person, anyway, so I'm assuming the two of you got along fine?" Hermione had been meaning to talk to Ginny about Harry since the Ministry party but hadn't had a chance until now.

"I really don't understand him sometimes. One minute he's holding my hand and batting his eyelashes—okay, not so much the eyelashes—but anyway, and the next he clams up and won't even make eye contact with me. It's like sometimes he forgets he doesn't like me."

"I'm positive he still likes you. But you're right, he's usually not so indecisive," Hermione added thoughtfully.

"Do you get the feeling he and Ron aren't telling us something?" Ginny asked when she had finished tying the shoelaces of her trainers.

"I know they aren't," Hermione said, frowning.

"What do you think it is?" Ginny said as she crossed over to where Hermione was and sat next to her on the bed.

"Well—I heard them talking a few days after Harry—woke up. Ron mentioned some embarrassing moment and then Harry said something like, 'No, I can't tell her, she wouldn't understand.' So... I don't know, I can't think of a thing."

"Do you think we'll find out eventually?" Ginny asked.

"There isn't a doubt in my mind."


Harry was lying flat on his back, panting, wand having been wrenched from his fingertips by Al (who was now giving himself a thorough pat on the back). Harry groaned and, pushing his arms over his head, flipped his body back into a standing position. He had only let his guard down for a second, turning around when Al said loudly, 'hey, isn't that Ginny?' Harry had forgotten himself for a minute and turned toward the training room door, expecting to see the lovely red-head entering into the Auror's gym. Instead he had received a blast to the chest, knocking him from his feet.

Harry was about to reclaim his wand when Al, apparently not ready for another go, doubled over and nailed Harry with his shoulders in the stomach. Harry let out a loud 'umph' as he was pushed a few steps back.

"You wanna play dirty, eh?" he said, smiling at his partner. Harry took his left leg and wrapped it securely around Al's right knee, yanking backwards. He managed to knock Al off his feet but unfortunately Harry was still entwined in Al's arms and fell with him; only at the last second did he fold into a roll to wiggle out of Al's grasp. Panting, Harry grabbed both his partner's arms and forced them over his head. Harry was now crouched on top of his chest with Al's arms pinned, smiling broadly.

That changed in about two seconds. Harry was definitely quicker than Al, but Al had a muscular advantage. He swung his legs up, squeezing Harry's head between his knees. In one, forceful movement, their positions were completely reversed.

"Saaayyy Uncle!"

"No."

"C'mon, say it just this once!"

"No way!" Harry said, wriggling around on the floor like a maniac. He twisted his wrist and managed to pull one arm free.

"You know you can't win."

Harry did the only thing he could think of; with his free hand he grabbed Al's arm and pinched the nerve near his elbow as hard as he could.

Al's face twisted as he yelped in pain. He let go of Harry's other arm in order to devote all efforts to tearing Harry away from his elbow.

Around the mats set out specifically for dueling practice, there had developed quite a large crowd. Among them were Kingsley and a group of new trainees. Harry heard him remark that Harry and Al were always entertaining to watch and had received excellent marks in Hand-to-Hand combat back in their training days.

Now, both wandless and sweaty, the two dueling Aurors stood facing one another, fists raised, waiting for the other to strike.

Al made the first move, turning ninety degrees and kicking Harry squarely in the chest. A few people in the crowd gasped as Harry tumbled backward. Al kept advancing and Harry jumped back to his feet and was just able to duck as Al swung a fist at him. Harry ducked left and then swung his foot out in a perfect arc, knocking Al off his feet. Seizing the opportunity, Harry flung himself at his abandoned wand. On the other side of the mat, Al recovered and reached for his also.

"Impedimenta!"

"Protego!" Al panted. His shield only partially did the trick. Harry's bolt of red light managed to break through the invisible barrier and knock him a few steps back.

"Impedius!" Long ropes shot out of Harry's wand and wrapped around the length of Al's body. Al managed to free his wand hand after a few seconds and muttered the countercurse. Harry, thinking fast, yelled, "Serpantimmuto" The ropes turned into long snakes which hissed and coiled around Al's legs.

Fear flickered in Al's eyes. He backed slowly away while still holding his wand out in front of him. "Evanesco." But the snakes just gave him sinister looks and kept slithering closer.

Harry was suddenly reminded of the last time he had seen this spell performed; back at the Department of Mysteries during his fifth year. To his horror, he realized that Voldemort had been the one that cast it, trying to kill Dumbledore. "Come back!" he shouted at the two snakes. They turned to one another as if deciding whether or not to listen to Harry and then, quite stubbornly turned around. Harry flicked his wand and they disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"No fair! You can't use Parseltongue against me! I could've gotten rid of them," Al spat.

Harry didn't waste any time listening to his rants, "Expelliarmus!" Al's wand flew directly into Harry's outstretched hand. He forced a smile and pushed the thoughts of Voldemort away. It was times like these Harry couldn't help but remember the similarities between himself and the Dark Lord. Couldn't he have just used a simple hex to thwart Al? Did he have to resort to using something that could easily be confused with a Dark Arts spell? Harry sighed as Al smiled back nonchalantly, obviously failing to notice Harry's inner turmoil.

Breathing heavily, Harry excused himself and marched the length of the room to enter the Auror's dressing chambers. Shedding his workout clothes as he went, he reached the showers and switched on the hot water.

Harry leaned against his arms under the fountain of water for what felt like a half an hour. Not even the soothing steam could wash away the thoughts that were flickering through his mind. Hadn't Dumbledore once told him that he, Harry, possessed many of the qualities Voldemort prided himself in having? Didn't the sorting hat consider sticking him in Slytherin because pieces of Voldemort were transferred into him that fateful October night? Harry had vanquished Voldemort with love; something Voldemort wasn't able to understand. Did the spell he used somehow backfire, leaving Voldemort free to inhabit Harry's thoughts?

Harry slammed his fist onto the water knob and threw a towel around his waist. Dense steam blanketed the locker room as Harry plopped down on a nearby bench and put his head in his hands.

"Trying to recreate the London fog?" asked Ginny from behind him.

Harry jumped. He hadn't realized anyone else was in the locker room. He ran a hand through his sopping wet hair and pulled his glasses on. "Hey–no.... I was just taking a long shower." Looking down quickly he realized he was only wearing a towel. "What're you doing in the men's locker room anyway?"

"I saw you run out of the gym a half an hour ago. You alright?" She looked genuinely concerned.

Harry grabbed a pair of boxers out of his locker and pulled them on underneath his towel. "Err–yeah," he lied.

"Liar."

He stood up from the bench and turned so his back was to her. Harry managed to gracefully pull on a pair of jeans before ripping the towel off and tossing it into the laundry chute. "No–well, I dunno... did you see our duel?" When he turned back around he felt sure that Ginny had been staring at his backside. Recovering quickly, she gave him a slight smile.

"Yeah, I did."

"I guess I'm just worried that if I don't watch it, I could become the next Voldemort... or something like him," Harry said as he sat down next to Ginny on the bench. For the first time he realized that she was only wearing a sports bra and her workout pants. His skin suddenly felt hot and he doubted it was from the shower.

Ginny seemed to be thinking over his last statement. After a minute, she replied, "Anyone could become the next dark lord, Harry."

He sighed and pulled a clean t-shirt over his head. "Yeah, but what if that spell I performed to vanquish him somehow left some kind of evil dark lord residue in me?" Harry couldn't believe he was actually voicing his feelings out loud. Perhaps it was his desperate desire to become closer to Ginny; perhaps he needed reassurance that he wasn't evil. Either way it was time to come clean with the worries that had been plaguing him for some time.

"Even if there was some sort of side effect... you can't just turn into an evil killing machine with no say. You're powerful, Harry, nobody denies that. But it's an entirely different kind of power than Voldemort possessed. He survived on hate and mistrust. When you filled him with love he couldn't stand to reside in his own body." Ginny reached out a hand and ran her fingers up and down the length of Harry's arm.

Harry felt as though electricity was shooting from her fingertips and igniting his skin. He was so rarely touched like this; Ginny's hands were smooth and soft. He desperately wanted her to move closer....

"And that snake spell–it's not like you cast an Unforgivable."

This comment sent a bolt of lightning down to the pit of his stomach. His face blanched and he felt himself about to admit something to her that he had never told anyone. "But I have before," Harry said slowly.

"You have?" Ginny asked. "When?"

Harry wasn't sure about her immediate reaction. Ginny was doing a wonderful job of keeping her face neutral while he continued. "The first time I tried was when I was fifteen–in the Department of Mysteries. I–I tried hitting Bellatrix with Crucio. The last time was when we stormed the underground caverns back in May... Lucius Malfoy. I wanted to kill him after what he did to your dad and Percy... and Bill." Would she hate him now? He had just confessed one of his deepest secrets. Harry had never even told Ron and Hermione any of this.

"But you didn't kill him... he's in Azkaban," she said quietly. She was looking straight at him, unflinching.

Harry nodded.

"Unforgivables only work if the caster truly enjoys causing pain. You simply wanted revenge on the behalf of someone you loved." Ginny slid off the bench and crouched at Harry's feet to look him straight in the eyes. "Harry, you're the complete polar opposite of Voldemort. Yes, you're a very powerful wizard like he was... but it's a different kind of power."

He blinked and looked away from her penetrating stare.

"What I'm trying to say is that anyone can be corrupted by power. But in the end you have to decide what kind of person you want to be; whether you turn your pain into compassion or malice is completely up to you."

Harry realized that she was right; just because the similarities between himself and Lord Voldemort could still be seen didn't mean he was doomed to become the next evil wizard. Sulking in the middle of an empty locker room seemed like a teenage thing to do. He looked up into her caring brown eyes and smiled. "Thanks."

Ginny squeezed his arm one more time and grinned back. "Besides," she said as she tossed her hair behind her shoulders, "I was planning on becoming the next power-hungry, pureblood-loving dark lord of the wizarding world... can't have you stealing my thunder."

Harry snorted.

"You heading back home?"

He shook his head. "Professor McGonagall flooed earlier this morning and said my Aunt and Uncle were trying to get a hold of me. I thought I'd better see what they wanted."

Ginny wore a thoughtful expression. "That's odd, isn't it?"

"Can't be good. Last time I saw them they threw a box filled with Dudley's old underpants at me and said never to visit."

"Well, I can take a quick shower and come with you." Harry was about to protest when Ginny shot him a sharp look. "I don't want you losing your temper and blowing one of them up. This time I'm sure they'd throw you in Azkaban."

Harry smiled and nodded in agreement. It would be nice to have company... especially Ginny's. "Alright, I'll wait for you downstairs. I thought I'd apparate into Little Whinging... maybe walk through town first."

"We should say hello to Arabella Figg," Ginny said surely. She rose from her seated position and rustled Harry's wet hair. For a second, she seemed to contemplate something. Then, leaning down (Harry gazed intently at her face, willing himself not to look at her cleavage) she grazed his warm cheek with her lips and whispered, "Hang in there, yeah?" And in one flowing movement, she was around the corner and out of the locker room.


Ron sat on the hard wooden chair in the middle of an interviewing room in Azkaban. The room itself was dark; lit only by a few torches scattered amongst the cold gray walls. There was a window in the far corner, but the thick bars didn't allow much light through.

Ron sighed and tapped his fingers against the table impatiently. He had only been waiting for about ten minutes but wasn't looking forward to this meeting at all; it seemed like he'd been there for hours. Draco Malfoy was the last person on the face of the planet that he wanted to see. Ron had spent the last few days convincing himself that if he could get anything useful out of the disgusting excuse for a wizard, then it would be worth the hours he'd spent agonizing over what to say.

Finally, after another five minutes, the door swung open to reveal two cloaked guards leading in a chained, malnourished, pale Malfoy. Even as they pushed him into the seat, Ron noticed that despite his situation, he was still carrying himself like the aristocrat he thought himself to be.

"Make it quick, Weasel," Malfoy said, pasting an ugly sneer across his thin face.

Ron sighed and smacked Danika Carden's folder down onto the table. His wand had been taken away at the entrance so he was forced to slide it across toward Malfoy. It came to a halt right in front of him.

"What is this?"

"I'd suggest you open it to find out."

Malfoy's sneer intensified as he ripped open the front page to find Danika's face leering up at him from her snapshot. A haughty expression replaced the curled lip as he looked back at Ron. "And what, pray tell, do you want from me?"

"We have reason to believe this woman is related to you," Ron said, doing his best to ignore the lewd smile of his enemy. A voice similar to Hermione's was repeating 'ignore him, ignore him,' in the back of his head.

"And if she is?" Draco leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms. He was doing his best to look as though the interview was boring him.

"If she is, we'll know where to start looking. We'll search your mansion, question your mother... actually, we may do that either way."

Malfoy's eyes flashed at this statement. "I'm not telling you anything, Weasel."

"We'll find her regardless. Do you honestly care what happens to the lot of them?"

Malfoy pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, "If I were you... well if I were you I'd Avada Kedavra myself... aside from that you shouldn't be so sure you'll track them down."

Ron crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Look, we know nothing about this woman... even whether Danika is her real name. If you could tell me anything... it would be helpful." There, he had laid it on the table. Now the decision was up to Malfoy.

Draco yawned and tried to look even more bored.

"Fine." Ron wasn't about to play mind games with the convicted Death Eater. He didn't need to reinforce the fact that Ron was the one who could freely leave Azkaban. He stood up and moved toward the door.

"Unless..."

Ron looked back.

"What's in it for me?"

"Do you honestly believe I would strike any sort of deal with you?" Ron said, nonplussed. There was no way he would be trading anything for information. Not only was he not in a position to do so... it would go completely against his ethics. "The only thing I can say is that disclosing information to me would look great on record when they go to sentence you."

This last statement didn't seem to entice him at all. He continued with his rant. "I'm sure Potter would be interested in finding her... wouldn't he?"

Ron narrowed his eyes and continued toward the guarded entryway. "Why do you say that?"

Malfoy regained his snotty expression and wrinkled his nose. "Nearly everyone that held the lot of you captive is in Azkaban... except her and a few others. Potter would find some way to play the hero and bring the rest in, wouldn't he?"

Ron turned toward the giant metal door and banged twice. A guard opened it up and stepped out of the way to let him through.

"Left her in a right state, didn't he, Weasley?" Malfoy yelled from the other side of the small chamber. He now seemed desperate to keep Ron there.

"What're you on about, Malfoy?" Ron growled, coming to a halt in the doorframe. He didn't want to spend anymore time tossing insults back and forth with a scumbag like Draco.

"Nothing... good luck hunting," Malfoy replied in an uninterested voice. He stuck out a grimy hand in front of him and pretended to be terribly interested in his fingernails.

Ron rolled his eyes. "You're a slimeball, Malfoy. Enjoy your life in prison." He turned on his heel and left the cold, damp interview room, quickly deciding he wasn't going to rise to the bait. In time, they would figure out the mystery of Danika Carden; with or without the help of imprisoned Death Eaters.


Harry and Ginny apparated into Little Whinging around 2:00p.m. Harry picked a spot where they would have to do a bit of walking to reach Privet Drive giving him a chance to ready himself for his estranged relatives.

"Maybe they want to personally congratulate you on defeating Voldemort," Ginny said with a note of amusement in her voice.

"Are you joking? He could have broken into their house shouting, 'Die Mudbloods,' and murdered Dudley and they still would've denied he existed," Harry replied. "Maybe I'll get lucky and they'll just open the door and throw something at me so we won't even need to have a conversation."

A group of laughing little girls passed the two in the street, swinging their ice skates over their shoulders and giggling at Harry and Ginny's long cloaks.

Ginny stopped walking and looked back at the group as they skipped past. "Harry... what are those weird shoes they have?" she asked, looking perplexed.

Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her behind a nearby bush. He began transfiguring his winter cloak into a Muggle jacket. "Ice skates," he answered while touching his wand to a sleeve, "I think there's an indoor rink on the next street."

Ginny's eyes widened, "You mean to tell me that Muggle children strap those to their feet and walk on ice?" She rolled her eyes as Harry accidentally turned his right sleeve into pink feathers. She pulled out her own wand and fixed it for him, making it short and black like the rest of his new coat.

"Thanks–err... yeah, they more glide than walk. Aunt Petunia gave me an old pair of Dudley's after he broke through the ice at Schaffer Pond when we were 7. I think she was secretly hoping I'd fall through too and she'd never see me again," then, he added thoughtfully, "I wasn't even close to his size though." He pointed his wand at Ginny's cloak and it shrunk into a thick ski jacket and turned a funny color of mauve. She eyed him curiously and he grinned, "I was going for a hot pink color but it didn't work out so well."

"And once you get out onto the ice... what do you do?" she asked.

"Skate," he answered simply, "You usually glide about in circles. The rink plays Muggle Christmas music... it's fun."

Ginny hopped over the curb and continued walking down the road toward the ominous Privet Drive sign. "It's amazing what they come up with," she noted, "I have to tell dad about this."

"Do you..." Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably and she looked over at his reddening cheeks, "Want to... erm... go sometime?"

Ginny grinned, "I don't know how."

"I could show you... it isn't hard. I mean–if you don't want to..." Harry was stammering. I sound like a stuttering twelve-year-old, he thought to himself. The part of his brain that was working at that moment was telling him he was an idiot for even asking. Just because she had a crush on him during her first few years at Hogwarts and had dated him for a few months didn't mean she still fancied him.

Ginny interrupted his string of thoughts, "Are you asking me on a date, Harry Potter?"

"Err–yeah... I guess I am." There, he'd done it. He had officially asked Ginny out. And, he'd managed not to trip over anything or say anything completely embarrassing in the process.

"Sure... I mean–I'd love to." She blushed deeply and became intensely interested in her feet. It was amazing that someone as stubborn and brave as her could feel nervous. Maybe she did still harbor feelings for him. The thought of this made Harry's head sore and his stomach flip flop.

He grinned at the side of her head. "Well... I'll–pick up skates and we can go in a few weeks, yeah?"

She looked at him for the first time in a few minutes, "Yeah, that'd be good." The tips of her ears were even red. "Isn't that your Aunt and Uncle's?" She asked, pointing to a tall house that looked exactly the same as every other one on the street except for the large #4 printed above the garage.

Harry's stomach sunk back down to its normal position and he cleared his throat loudly. "Yeah... yeah, it is."

"You ready?"

"No," he admitted. "But that doesn't much matter, does it?"

"Not really," Ginny took a deep breath and reached for his hand. She laced her fingers into his and the warmth sent shock waves up his arm. "Let's go."

They slowly began trudging up the driveway. The door became larger and larger and finally Harry reached the front stoop. It was too much to hope that the Dursleys weren't home. They were always home. For one fleeting second, Harry considered running back down to the sidewalk at top speed. You're pathetic, said a voice in his head, you finished off Lord Voldemort and you're scared of three harmless Muggles? He took a deep breath and pushed the doorbell with the hand not entwined in Ginny's. A shrill ring shot through his eardrums like a fire alarm. For a second there was no noise heard from inside the house and he dared to hope nobody was home. Then, like a heard of giants tramping through a forest, came the sound of large footsteps down the stairs.

The door flew open and a huge–no, huge didn't describe the size–GIGANTIC, mustached man towered in the door frame. For a second, Harry thought he was seeing a very young Uncle Vernon. He quickly realized that the walrus looming over him was none other than Dudley Dursley. Dudley stood there with a baffled expression on his face before figuring out who it was that was standing on his front doorstep. Then, he screamed, "MUM!" and slammed the door in Harry's face.

"Charming, isn't he?" Ginny asked, with her eyebrows raised. During this whole ordeal, she still hadn't let go of Harry's hand. He was grateful for this on many levels. She was silently rubbing her thumb over the inside of his palm.

Inside the house, they heard muffled shouts and the thumping of heavy feet. Harry wasn't entirely sure the door was going to open again, but moments later, Aunt Petunia's smaller frame came into view. She opened the door a bit wider to let the two through and once they were inside the foyer, Petunia quickly scanned the street to make sure there were no neighbors watching before closing the door, sealing Harry and Ginny inside the stuffy tomb of a house.

Harry cleared his throat, feeling like he needed to say something to break the ice. "Err... how've you been, Aunt Petunia?" he asked.

"I'm fine... fine. Thank you for coming by." She wore the pained expression of someone being forced to eat a bowl of worms. "Someone from a hospital in Surrey has been calling nonstop for you for the past few months. We tried to tell them we didn't know where you were, but it didn't stop them. It's probably one of your kind," she added with extreme distaste. Dudley, who had been lurking around a nearby corner, stalked into the tiny hallway and plopped down on the last step, staring intently at Ginny. She gave Harry's hand a tight squeeze.

"If they're from a Muggl–err–a hospital around here, they wouldn't be a wizard," Harry said pointedly. He was going to mention that if they were, in fact, from the wizarding world, they would have just sent an owl addressed to the Weasleys as many others had done but decided not to upset his Aunt.

Wait a second, why do I care about upsetting her?

"If they were wizards, they would've OWLed me."

Aunt Petunia made a low growling noise. "Well," she said snootily, "They also sent you a few letters. I'll go get them." She smoothed her apron and managed to squeeze in between Dudley and the wall to ascend the stairs.

When she was around the corner, Ginny frowned, "Who from a muggle hospital would want to see you?" she asked.

Harry turned toward her. He ran a hand through his messy black hair and pushed his glasses further up on his nose. "Dunno... the only Muggles I know are the Dursleys." He tugged at his jacket and paced around the foyer.

The house was so familiar. Dudley used to chase him around the small sitting room threatening to beat him up when they were younger. Harry ran his fingers over the door to the cupboard under the stairs. He had spent ten years being periodically locked in there with no friends and nothing to do except dream of what life was like outside of Privet Drive.

Ginny came up behind him and pulled him around to face her. She offered a small smile, "You okay?"

Harry nodded.

Without saying anything else, Ginny wrapped her arms around his chest and hugged her small frame to his body. A shiver shot down his spine. It was amazing how even in the most depressing situations she was able to cheer him up. He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, nestling his nose in her hair. She smelled like vanilla.

A loud voice interrupted the content feeling. "Is she your girlfriend?" Dudley asked, pointing at Ginny. Harry had forgotten Dudley was molding into the stairs.

They broke apart. Harry raised his eyebrows thoughtfully, wondering how to answer him. No, she wasn't technically his girlfriend, but she was something...

"No, I'm not," Ginny answered.

"Oh," Dudley said. "I didn't think so. No one would date Potter." This last statement was less effective then it had once been. Dudley was more trying to convince himself then anyone else in the room.

Ginny strode over to where Dudley was sitting and leaned down, "Actually, most of the women in the Wizarding World would date Harry. He's rather famous."

Harry blushed.

"And so would I, if he would ask me," She continued, smirking in Harry's direction. "Until then, I'm content to just keep sleeping with him."

Harry and Dudley's mouths dropped open.

Did she just say what I thought she said?

She stood back up and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I'll wait for you outside." Ginny walked primly over to the door, opened it and walked back out.

Dudley just sat and gaped at Harry for a minute. Harry wasn't sure if he should say something to smooth things over or not. He didn't much care what Dudley thought of him; he was a twenty-one-year-old obese loser who would probably always live with his parents.

Harry was saved having to say anything else to his cousin by his Aunt Petunia's return.

"Here," she said, thrusting a pack of letters into his hands. "Thank you for not parading around in those large, pointed hats and advertising yourself as a freak." She hastily pushed him out the front door and mumbled a goodbye before slamming it shut once more.

Once safely on the other side of the sidewalk, Harry joined Ginny, trying to suppress a laugh. Her outburst had been quite amusing. She seemed to agree because she gave him a wide smile and shrugged. Harry opened the letter, Ginny peering over his shoulder.

Mr. Harry Potter,

We, at the Vastus Augustus Memorial Hospital, would like to inform you of an amnesia patient who has been in our care for around two years. Up until the past month or so, he hadn't said more than a few words. However, of late, he has begun to remember names from his past.

We have taken to calling the patient 'Red,' since he has been unable to recall his own name. The first few names he remembered were Molly and Arthur Weasley. Unfortunately, we have checked every directory and archive in Britain and were unable to find record of anyone with those names. Hopefully it means something to you.Next came Harry Potter, and he seems very concerned for your well-being. He seems to think you are in some sort of danger.

We found a primary school in Little Whinging who had records showing that a boy with the name of Harry Potter had attended more than ten years back. The hospital got in touch with Vernon and Petunia Dursley, at No 4 Privet Drive, your last known residence.

We are awaiting your reply, anxiously hoping you can help solve the mystery of this man's identity. If you would like to stop by, the address is listed below.

Thank you for your time,

Erma P. Hinkledink

"Who do you think it is?" Ginny asked, furrowing her brow.

"No idea... hopefully not some escaped Death Eater from Azkaban luring us out of the safety of Grimmauld Place to Crucio me on sight and force you to watch my horrific demise."

Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"I just jinxed myself, yeah?" Harry said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, "So young, yet so pessimistic."

Harry snorted and took his wand out. "Apparate into the alley?"

"There's an alley?"

"There's always an alley," he said, smiling.

Ginny nodded and they both disappeared with a loud POP.


The Vastus Augustus Memorial Hospital was a tiny building nestled into a busy Surrey Street. It was about seven stories high with large, glass windows around the entire thing. As Harry and Ginny pushed through the front doors, a large nurse, dressed completely in white was waiting behind a round desk, a welcoming smile adorning her round features.

"Welcome to VAMH," she said pleasantly. "How can I help you?"

Harry stepped forward, Ginny right behind him. "My name is Harry Potter... I received a letter in the mail saying I needed to come down here. Something about a..."

"Red," she said, interrupting excitedly. "Oh, this is wonderful! We've been waiting for such a long time for him to remember something!" She turned to Ginny, then, "And you are..."

Oh–erm–Ginny... Ginny Weasley."

The nurse, identified as Helga by a brass name tag pinned to her uniform, clapped a hand over her mouth, "A Weasley! That's a name he's been repeating over and over again for a while now! We tried to track the lot of you down... but you are very well hidden!"

"You don't even know the half of it," Ginny replied. She was knitting her brow together now, obviously wondering who in their right mind (or confused mind, as it seemed) would be talking about her from a Muggle hospital.

The two Aurors followed after Helga as she led them down a thin, white hallway with bright florescent lights beating down on them. The group climbed a flight of stairs and continued down another hallway until they reached a simple wooden door with the number 1227 painted above it.

Ginny entered first, after the nurse, and Harry hadn't even crossed the threshold when he heard her gasp. Inside the room, sitting up in bed, was Bill Weasley. He looked older, but his ginger hair was still in a long ponytail and he still wore one earring. It was unmistakably Bill Weasley.

Ginny blanched; shakily, she crossed the room, slowly making her way to the bed.

Bill stared at her. Harry wasn't positive he knew who she was, but he recognized her as someone of importance because he hadn't said a word since she appeared in the doorway.

"Do you–do you recognize him?" the nurse asked, sensing the tension in the room.

Ginny nodded, tears forming in her brown eyes. When she reached the side of his bed, she fell to her knees and began to sob uncontrollably. "Oh–Bill... Bill...." She laid her head in his lap and he put a hand on her head tentatively.

"Gi–Ginny?" he said, trying the words out. "My... sister, Ginny!"

This made Ginny sob harder. She clung to his legs and her body shook.

Harry stood in the room for another minute, mouth hanging open, not really believing the scene in front of him. Bill Weasley was... alive? Missing for four years, he turned up in a Muggle Hospital, of all places. They had looked everywhere. Harry didn't think anyone even entertained the notion that the young man would resurface somewhere so ordinary.

Harry decided then that he needed to get to the other Weasleys as fast as possible. Not wishing to disturb Ginny, he backed slowly out of the room. Helga followed him.

"If she asks where I went, tell her I've gone to find the rest of the family," he said briskly to the nurse. Then, turning quickly around, he hurried down the hallway to the stairwell, debating the fastest way to find a member of the Weasley clan.


Remus Lupin shuffled through the stack of Gringotts bank statements in his lap. He had spent the last hour searching the remainder of the Black fortune, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

So far, he'd discovered a small sum of money was being dumped into a Magical Herb and Fungi funded bank account down in Brazil each year. He highly doubted the research that particular company was doing was going to make a positive change in society. He wasn't surprised though; many highly esteemed Wizarding families kept the tip of their wands in the illegal drug market.

Halfway down the last page, he finally found what he'd been searching for. Remus still wasn't positive it meant anything... or maybe he hoped it didn't. Written in small, almost illegible writing was a name and then a few dates all connected with a set amount of galleons.

Porrima Carden-Black: 4/24/1977

Remus frowned and read the scrolling numbers underneath. The noble and ancient house of Black had transferred money into that account for what looked like seventeen years. He tried to rack his brain–Remus knew he had heard that name before. Whether or not it was linked with something important... he couldn't recall.

He sighed and closed the thick folder. Harry was picking the Pensieve up from Hogwarts in two days; after that, he would hopefully have an answer. The full-moon was on Thursday night so he'd have to wait to talk with Harry about his findings... and not take him to his grandparent's house until the following week.

Just then, said person apparated on top of the couch Remus was sitting on (actually, another few inches and Harry would have found himself sitting on Remus's lap).

"Err... sorry–couldn't concentrate," he said, fumbling down off the floral cushion.

Remus chuckled, "You'd better watch it... don't want to get splinched."

"Is Mrs. or Mr. Weasley here?" Harry asked urgently.

Remus nodded and motioned toward the kitchen. "They're finishing up the rebuttal for Rabastan Lestrange's case. Why? What's up?"

Harry turned back around. "It's Bill... he's alive."

"What?" Remus heard himself shout. "It's been four years... how can he be–are you sure?"

"Yeah–he's in a Muggle hospital near my Aunt and Uncle's house. We need to find the rest of the family. Is Ron at work?" Harry asked, heading once again toward the kitchen.

Remus nodded, "He left about an hour ago. But Harry... if Bill is alive... why hasn't he contacted anyone?" the situation sounded fishy to Remus.

Harry didn't even blink. "He has amnesia... maybe hit with a befuddlement charm or a memory spell or something. Anyway, he's beginning to remember things–my name, actually. That's why my Aunt and Uncle wanted to see me–the hospital had contacted them."

Remus nodded, that answer did make sense. "Alright, you tell Arthur and Molly and round up the twins. I'll OWL Charlie at Gringotts and find Ron and Hermione." Remus stood up and rushed past Harry to retrieve his owl.

He didn't know what to think. He was beside himself with happiness, yet, at the same time, worried that Bill would never come around. Could Arthur and Molly stand to find their son, only to lose him to amnesia?

Remus truly hoped everything would work out for the best.


Ginny sat outside the hospital room, letting Harry rub his hand up and down the length of her back. It was soothing; it meant a lot to her that he was willing to just sit next to her, without speaking, just letting her get lost in her own thoughts.

Her mother and father and Charlie were in Bill's room now. He had definitely recognized them although no one could say how it would all turn out in the end. They were going to transfer him to St. Mungo's as soon as possible so the Healers could begin work on breaking the memory charm. The years spent in the Muggle hospital hadn't done any harm, but it would take a team of qualified, professional Healers to really cess out the damage.

"Ginny! Harry!" called Ron's voice from down the hallway. Ginny stood up as her brother made his way toward her and let him engulf her in a huge hug. He clapped Harry on the back and waved hello to Fred and George, who were sitting on the other side of the hallway. The staff had found numerous chairs for the visitors and made a makeshift sitting area in the middle of the hallway. Mr. Weasley, especially, had been grateful for the Muggles' hospitality ("amazing, aren't they?").

Just then, the nurse stepped out of the room, followed by Arthur and Molly. "Oh, goodness! There are more of you!" Helga cried.

Mrs. Weasley beamed. "Alright, you lot... go in and say hello. Bill's waiting." She patted the twins on their heads as they passed by her and Mr. Weasley to enter the small room. Ron visibly squeezed Hermione's hand and led her across the hallway.

"Wait... only family members for now," Helga said to the bushy-haired brunette as she scribbled something absentmindedly down on her clipboard.

Hermione made to let go of Ron's hand and join Harry and Ginny, but Ron held on steadfast. He squeezed his eyes shut and spoke softly, "She–she's my wife."

The hallway went dead silent. Harry was almost afraid to look at the two eldest Weasleys. Fred and George froze in the doorframe.

"Hermione is..." Mrs. Weasley had a pained expression on her face, "did I hear you right, Ronald?"

Ron nodded weakly. Hermione had moved to stand behind him and was not looking anyone in the eye.

Harry quickly decided that Ron should have been more tactful about his confession. Everyone, save Harry and Ginny, were utterly stunned.

Mr. Weasley recovered first. He looked as though he was still trying to contemplate what Ron had said. "How long?" he asked simply.

Ron cleared his throat. "Two–two years."

Mrs. Weasley burst out crying. Arthur went to her and gathered her up into his arms. "There, there, Molly dear," he cooed.

"Mum, I'm sorry... I just didn't want something horrible to happen because I told everyone."

Mrs. Weasley sobbed something incomprehensible.

"Huh?"

"I think she wants to know who married you," Arthur explained quickly.

Hermione now spoke up, "My... my parent's minister. We haven't even registered our marriage with the Ministry of Magic. We–we were waiting to tell everyone first." Tears were starting to fill her eyes up too. "Oh Mrs. Weasley... I'm sooo sorry!"

Mrs. Weasley broke away from her husband and gathered Hermione into her arms. "Call... call–me," she hiccupped, "M–Mu…MUM!"

This only made Hermione cry harder. She clung to her mother-in-law as if her life depended on it.

After a minute, Ron made to step up to his mother and receive his hug. What happened next made Harry's eyes widen in surprise.

Mrs. Weasley reached back and slapped Ron harshly across the face. "TWO YEARS, RONALD!" she spat. Then, turning on her heel, she stalked down the length of the hallway and banged through the door to the stairwell, disappearing from sight.

Ron shook his head.

Mr. Weasley spoke up next, "Well... congratulations Ron... Hermione. Don't worry about your mother, she'll come around eventually."

Fred and George patted Ron on the back and embraced their new sister-in-law before reentering Bill's hospital room. Ron and Hermione followed suit.

This left Harry alone in the hallway with Ginny and Mr. Weasley.

"That went well," Ginny stated dryly.

Harry nodded. Ron most definitely should have waited for a more opportune moment to confess his big secret.


MUAHAHA! I revealed a secret... and feel really good about it, too. Do you want to see the hints I dropped? OF COURSE you do! And, I want to know what you think: Do you like how Ginny and Harry's relationship is progressing? Is there something you'd like to see more of? Do you have any idea who Danika Carden is? Let me know if you're liking it... I swear, if I could get as many reviews as I do hits... well, needless to say, it'd be amazing.

Thanks for reading!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Ch. 2

Deirram Snor writes that Ronald Bilius Weasley has been spotted now and again with one Hermione Jane Granger, a Muggle born, but the nature of their relationship is unclear." —Read Deirram Snor backwards

Ch. 3

A good way into the chapter, Hermione dissolves into fits of giggles and says the following...

"EFIW…!" she heaved.

"S—snor…" She wheezed, "MAI!"

EFIW SNOR MAI backwards is 'I am Rons wife.'

(Oh yes, aren't I talented?)

And...

"Will we be calling you Mrs. Ronald Bilius Weasley anytime soon?" Alicia asked innocently.

"You can call me that anytime you like," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes.

–I get that you were probably not taking this statement literally, but Hermione was completely serious.

Ch. 4

The bouquet flew out of the crystal vase and Hermione only had to move forward a few steps to catch it.This one is self explanatory

After a second his brow creased in confusion and he poked at a place on the map with his wand. "Hey, I think it's wrong, look at this na—"

"What are you on about? It can't be wrong, it's charmed to..." Hermione started to say. Everyone around the table was looking at them curiously.

"Nevermind, it's–err–nothing," Harry interrupted. He folded the map and stuck it in his pocket. "Thanks, Hermione, it's great." He shot her a significant look and Hermione finally understood. She was suddenly glad she hadn't shown that map to anyone else. Al was looking at the map of Grimmauld Place and noticed Hermione's name looked odd. The map showed her name as Hermione Weasley, not Granger

and finally... my favorite

On the top of his dresser sat the map Hermione had given him. Glancing at it, he saw Al was already waiting in the kitchen, accompanied by three members of the Weasley family.

But when Harry actually gets down to the kitchen, Al is there with Ginny, Ron, and HERMIONE. So when he was looking at the map, he saw the name Hermione Weasley. But since Harry already knew about their marriage, it didn't shock him that her name was different.