DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
The world around Harry slowly faded into blurry existence. He could hear voices talking, but they weren't saying anything. The sounds were jumbled in his mind, as if his hearing were as blurry as his eyesight. Slowly the sights and sounds forced their way into his mind, making him concentrate on them. For a moment, he had the urge to fight back. It didn't feel terribly different from the feeling he'd gotten from the first few visions he'd had that summer.
The voices he'd been unable to make out earlier were more defined now, though he couldn't understand what they were saying. One of them sounded somewhat like Dumbledore, but the other was a complete mystery. They seemed to be speaking in some foreign language. His vision, however, didn't seem to be improving much.
A third shape loomed over him, and in a blink the world came into focus. Madam Pomfrey was leaning over him. She must have put his glasses on. Standing at the foot of his bed was the Headmaster and the Egyptian wizard who'd picked him to be part of the demonstration. Harry's head was still swimming a bit, but he felt mostly alert now.
"Can you hear me, dear?" Pomfrey asked in a soft voice. Harry answered and slowly sat up a little. He felt odd: not asleep or awake, but both at the same time, if that were possible. She asked him a few more questions before turning back to Dumbledore, saying, "I hope there is a good reason for doing this, Albus. He needs to rest, not to be drugged into talking with visitors."
"I can assure you, my business here is both official and quite serious," the Egyptian responded. Madam Pomfrey frowned and walked out of the room. Harry felt himself tense as Dumbledore followed her, leaving him alone with the warlock who'd been watching him since he'd shown up.
Harry stared at him, waiting for him to say something. In response, the warlock stared back at him, as if searching for some sign from Harry. Harry felt a growing paranoia. Why had Dumbledore left him alone? What had he been given?
"Why are you here?" Harry asked, finally giving in. The old wizard nodded as if he'd been waiting for Harry to make the first move.
"An excellent choice of questions," he said with a nod. "That was an impressive bit of magic you displayed in the Hall," the Egyptian said lightly. "Even Lazlo was impressed, and that is no small accomplishment."
"That's fantastic," Harry replied dryly. "When I woke up this morning I'd hoped I could impress some Hungarian wizard."
The wizard smiled. "Lazlo is Romanian, though born to Hungarian parents." he corrected. "I've just asked him if he had heard of Miss Weasley. It seems that he has met her brother, Charlie Weasley."
"That's great for him," Harry added with a little annoyance, "but that doesn't tell me why you're here."
"As I said: You displayed a surprising bit of talent tonight. Albus was correct to invite us to see you."
"And what now?" Harry asked. "Do I get a medal and a photo? Maybe a free trinket of some sort?"
"I am afraid not. I am terribly sorry, I have not introduced myself. I was too eager to congratulate you. My name is Najib Tefarra. I have been on the International Confederation of Wizards for over eighty years and I have seen few wizards who could have accomplished what you did tonight."
"You should spend more time here. There are loads of people who could easily lose to Ginny," Harry commented.
"While I am certain you speak the truth, you were not trying to lose..." the wizard said with a piercing gaze, "...but you were not trying to win either." Harry tried to protest, but Tefarra ignored him. "You repeatedly passed up opportunities to win which would have hurt or embarrassed your opponent. If you would have simply struck her chest or face with that Club Curse, instead of her upper arm, she would not have been able to continue."
"She's my friend," Harry told him. "I didn't want to hurt her."
"There were many friends who dueled each other, yet none quite so aggressively as you two. Young Mr. Malfoy was aggressive, but mindlessly so. Miss Granger did not hesitate to steal victory from her friend, yet she didn't display the same urgency, no... drive to her attack. To her, it was merely a demonstration, not a duel."
Harry sat up on the bed, feeling his legs complain at the movement. Tefarra walked around to face him again. "You and Miss Weasley were truly dueling, and were more concerned with defeating each other than displaying your skills."
"What are you saying? That we're not really friends?" Harry asked, feeling more and more uncomfortable being alone with someone who seemed to know more than he was telling.
"On the contrary, Mr. Potter," Tefarra replied, smiling. "There was a certain... familiarity—" he paused as if waiting for Harry to agree that the word was appropriate "—to the way you fought, an understanding of your strengths and weaknesses."
"We're both in the D.A.. It wasn't the first time we've hexed each other."
"Certainly not," Tefarra agreed, "but there were other signs. A look of betrayal at your use of wandless magic. Your restraint in causing her pain. Her knowledge of your fears," he said, counting them off on his fingers. He paused to look into Harry's eyes as he continued. "Your enjoyment of the challenge of facing her and her kindness in your defeat. No, Mr. Potter. I'd say that the two of you are connected by more than Quidditch and her brother."
Harry glared at the wizard suspiciously. "Why are you so interested in Ginny and I?"
"I came here to learn about you, Mr. Potter," Tefarra answered formally, "and to accomplish that, I am forced to learn about those close to you."
"Why do you want to learn about me?"
"Because that is my duty, Mr. Potter," came the quick answer. "There is a serious threat to our safety. We are all here to discuss what can be done, and some say that everything that can be done depends upon you." Harry bristled at the wizard's blunt reminder of the Prophecy.
"Why do you care? It's up to me, isn't it? Don't you have anything else to worry about?"
"Indeed, there are many things which require my attention," Tefarra said gravely. "My Ministry is searching for an old wizard named Siamun who has started something of a cult."
"Death Eaters?" Harry blurted out before thinking.
"Thankfully not," his guest replied. "They have no allegiance with Voldemort, nor do they seek immortality. Instead, they desire power in the afterlife, which they believe they gather through the Dark Arts in this life."
Harry felt his mind cloud for a moment. What did that have to do with him? "So... you want me to stop them?" Harry felt his anger grow as the old wizard barked out a few short laughs. There was some tingling in his scar, and Harry felt the world shift around him.
"Indeed, no, Mr. Potter," the wizard said with a smile. "Siamun is cunning and wise as an asp, but he will not trouble us for long."
"Then why did you tell me about him?" Harry shot back, ignoring the ringing in his head.
"Perspective, Mr. Potter. Voldemort is not the only dark wizard in the world, and not all dark wizards support him. But unlike the rest, his power has grown beyond Britain." Tefarra sat down on the bed across from Harry. "Tonight you met Lazlo Petrov. Less than a year ago, Lazlo's brother Marian betrayed him and his mentor, Alexandru. He was a member of the Confederation, and he was killed."
Harry listened silently as Tefarra continued in a somber voice. "Lazlo had been a member of the Confederation for only two years, and had been picked to take Alexandru's place. Marian struck a bargain with Voldemort. Lazlo was to be placed under the Imperius Curse so that he would become a spy and betray us all. Lazlo saw through the plot, but his mentor died when they tried to capture his brother. Marian is now in hiding, gathering supporters."
"He is not the only wizard Voldemort has convinced, and while Lazlo fights a war against his brother, many other council members are fighting against other dark wizards loyal to Voldemort. The war has grown beyond Britain, you see. Lazlo will fight his brother, but there is little he can do against Voldemort, despite his youth and skill."
"Because of the Prophecy," Harry said.
"That is what many believe, Mr. Potter. And now I too am convinced."
"You came here to see if I could manage? To see what the chances might be?"
"No, Mr. Potter. We came here to gain hope and wisdom. There is much that we may learn here to help in whatever small way is available to each of us, and there is much that we may see to give us the courage to fight no matter what odds we face."
Harry didn't know how to respond to that. What could Dumbledore have told them that gave them any hope? For a moment, he wished he was back at the Dursleys' and that Ginny was still able to listen in to all the meetings. Still, Tefarra had told him more than Dumbledore had for months.
"What have you seen that gave you any hope? There have been attacks... People have died... and still they're happening, even here."
"I know all of that, Mr. Potter," Tefarra said with a solemn nod, "and yet I have found more hope than I expected when Albus summoned us last July. I am not alone. Lazlo was to leave tomorrow at sunset, but he has now decided that he will remain here until after the Quidditch matches. He is quite pleased."
"What does it matter?"
"Perhaps I can explain. Many have told us that you are quite a talented Quidditch player." Harry shrugged. "You are a Seeker, correct?" Harry nodded again. "You have a match against the Slytherin house in one week. Do you believe that you are more skilled than the Slytherin Seeker?"
"Yes."
"An accurate assessment. Mr. Malfoy is deficient in his ability to react to the Snitch. He doesn't see it like you do. You have the advantage. So what then is the purpose in having Chasers, Beaters, and a Keeper?"
Harry frowned. "If it was just me, the Slytherins would run up the score and it wouldn't matter if I was better than Malfoy or not."
"Precisely. Without your Chasers, your defeat of Mr. Malfoy would be empty and meaningless. Albus and I are confident in your abilities off the pitch, but if we do nothing and simply rest all our hopes on you, your victory would be no different than defeat. Wizards like Lazlo want to know that they are not fighting without any hope of victory. They need to know that they are not playing without a reliable Seeker, in a way of speaking.
Harry tried to reply, but found that he couldn't remember what he was about to say. Trying to shake the fog from his head only made the world tilt and twist even more. His heart pounded in his chest, and he struggled to understand what was happening. Was this all a vision? It had seemed so different.
"I see I must go soon, Mr. Potter," the wizard's voice echoed through his head. "Your healer said it would only last a short time. Please forgive me, but I feared there would be few other chances for me to speak privately with you. You can still hear me, correct?"
Harry nodded and gave him a groggy "Yes."
"Do not tie yourself to the declarations of seers and the twisted words of prophecies. They are nothing more than foggy records of things which are yet to happen. Your prophecy says that you alone have the power to defeat your enemy, but it does not say you must do so alone." He gently pushed Harry back onto the bed, and stood over him. "Do not deny the help of those who give it willingly."
"But... only me..." Harry said through the haze in his mind. "...Don't want them to be in danger..." His head ached and his muscles felt as if they didn't have the strength to move an inch.
"We are all in danger, Mr. Potter," Najib Tefarra said quietly. "You simply have the chance to change that."
Harry's eyes blinked open, straining against the dim light to peer at the room around him. Najib Tefarra was gone and the room was dark except for a pair of candles which lit his bed. His muscles ached and his head was groggy but it was nothing compared to the exhaustion he'd felt talking to Tefarra.
He had talked to Tefarra, hadn't he? Harry scoured his mind and the room around him for some sign that the aged wizard had been there. The room was empty except for him an the candles. Harry slowly rolled his legs off the side of the bed and stood up stiffly. As soon as his feet touched the ground, a small bell rang from a nearby room. Madam Pomfrey strode out of a nearby room, heading directly for Harry.
"Slept well, have you Mr. Potter?" she asked as she waved her wand over him.
"I... er... Did I have any visitors?"
"Several," Madam Pomfrey said with disapproval. "The Headmaster permitted only those three to stay," she explained with a look to the room behind her. Standing in the doorway was a very anxious looking Ron along with Hermione with a very worried-looking Ginny.
"Did I... Did I wake up at all? Earlier, I mean," he asked quietly as he looked at his friends.
"Did you wake up? No, you did not," Pomfrey said testily. "You were forced into consciousness against my instructions."
"By Dumbledore and one of the Confederation wizards?"
"Yes," Pomfrey answered curtly as she poured a hissing liquid into a small cup. "I never tell Albus how to run his school, and I won't stand for him threatening to have the Ministry order me to force potions on my patients."
"What was it?" Harry asked as he rubbed his eyes. "It feels like I've been sleeping for days."
"I warned Albus about it," she said as she handed Harry the cup to drink. "It was some ancient recipe for a Wakefulness Potion. I told them not to do it. You only needed a bit of rest, and that vile concoction took every last bit of strength from you."
She went on muttering about how irresponsible it had been, and how unfair it was to Harry, and how she would never allow it again after she'd seen Harry when Tefarra had finished talking with him. Finally, she motioned to Harry's friends and they rushed over to see him. Ginny was in front of him in an instant and apologizing as quickly as she could.
"I didn't think it would be that strong, I swear—" she professed as quickly as she could push the words from her mouth. Her eyes were large and glassy and she looked even more pale than usual. "—I just thought— I mean, a Stunner is supposed to be worse— You were just supposed to sleep, not end up— I thought McGonagall would just wake you up— but I guess it was stronger than I thought— I'm so sorry, Harry, I promise I didn't—"
"Calm down, Miss Weasley," Madam Pomfrey interrupted, obviously still upset. "I would have had him up and doing back flips in seconds if he was merely charmed to sleep. Mr. Potter needs to learn that his ability to do magic without a wand is not limitless." With that she turned and started walking back to her office.
When Madam Pomfrey had left, Ron and Hermione gave Harry insistent looks, and he started explaining. Harry usually avoided doing any of the wandless magic he'd learned, so they had little idea of any of its affects. Harry took a minute to explain to them that even simple things like summoning books were tiring. He'd disarmed someone without a wand once, and spent the rest of the night feeling as if he hadn't slept in days. He'd used much more wandless magic in those few minutes dueling Ginny than he had in all the months since he'd returned to Hogwarts.
"But you were using loads of it," Ron pointed out, "and you didn't look like you were all that tired until the end."
"I wasn't," Harry explained. "It gets easier every time I use it. I think it will always be tiring, but I shouldn't always pass out."
Ron shook his head and stared enviously. "If I could do that, I'd have been practicing every chance I got."
Harry looked away, and caught Ginny frowning at Ron. Harry hadn't shared what Dumbledore had told him about the origins of Harry's new talents. He convinced himself that it wasn't a good time. In truth, he felt ashamed and sickened by the thought. Ron wouldn't understand. Hermione would say she did, but even she couldn't imagine what it would be like to live with some part of the person who murdered her parents contained within her.
Harry asked for any news about what had happened after he'd lost to Ginny. Hermione quickly explained as much as there was to tell. There had been something of a commotion after Harry had lost, a few of the Confederation members had slipped out during the confusion while McGonagall calmed everyone down. That had been the end of the demonstration, and they'd been dismissed without any of the ceremony of the start of the demonstration.
"I think they did it just to see you in a duel," Ron added. "Bad luck for them, I guess. I wouldn't have guessed anyone would have had a chance against you. I still don't know how she did it."
"Would you like me to show you?" Ginny shot back at him. Ron just glared back at her.
"Most people saw it as a lucky thing, and a bit of poor judgment with that ridiculous diversion. You should've known better, Harry," Ron told him. "Malfoy didn't know what to do, but I'm afraid Neville has decided that it's proof that Ginny's better with magic than you."
"He's just proud that he gets to go to the Ball with the witch who beat Harry Potter," Ginny corrected.
Ron didn't seem so certain, but he didn't press the issue. When Madam Pomfrey returned she handed Harry a small bottle, telling him that he could return to Gryffindor Tower so long as he promised to drink the contents of the bottle when he got into bed.
Harry did as he was ordered, and he felt the urge to sleep quickly overtake him. It wasn't the exhaustion from before, accompanied by a feeling of powerlessness. It was gentle and firm, and in moments he was soundly asleep.
Harry spent the weekend lounging around the common room and working on all of the essays and other work assigned by the professors. While they had agreed as a group to assign less homework over days where there would be special events occurring, the result was not less work, but more work over the days which the Confederation wizards spent locked a secluded tower of the castle.
Despite that, Harry didn't feel overly pressed while finishing the work. Some of it was still difficult, but he found himself remembering the correct answers more often and only seldom needing to practice new spells, making any work take much less time.
Ginny had tried on a few different occasions to convince Harry to venture out of the common room, but Harry had to refuse. When he had woken up on Saturday, Hedwig had been waiting for him. She delivered a note from Madam Pomfrey and signed by the Headmaster which ordered him to remain in the common room outside of meals and so he would get his rest.
Harry didn't fight the decree as much as he normally might have. The first meal had made him realize how eager everyone was to either make fun of his defeat or praise him for his new talent. He was happy to stay sequestered in the common room with only the Gryffindors.
Ginny, however, seemed to be feeling annoyed on his behalf. After two days of trying to coax him out against Dumbledore's orders, she gave up, and instead asked Harry when he would be allowed to leave. Upon learning the answer, Ginny left immediately, only to return an hour later, asking if he could help her practice new Transfiguration spells Monday night.
This had become something of a standard code for them. It worked fairly well since everyone knew that Ron had barely qualified for the Transfiguration class and even Hermione admitted that Harry was better than her when it came to Transfiguration.
So it seemed Ginny wanted to see him tomorrow night. The thought became quite distracting and he had trouble remembering the effects of all the charms he was writing about. It had seemed urgent, yet not urgent enough for Ginny to try and use the Mirrors.
Instead of thinking about Charms, Harry spent the rest of Sunday evening trying to think of what it was that Ginny needed to talk to him about. Maybe she'd simply wanted to get to spend some time with him. That was a much happier thought.
That night, he endured yet another restless sleep. All sorts of thoughts wandered through his mind. Some of them were encouraging, some of them were quite pessimistic, but Ginny was in all of them.
"Come on, Harry," urged Ginny as she led him through the halls.
"I'd go faster if I had any clue where I was going," he replied.
Harry had been sitting peacefully in the Common Room, working on another essay for McGonagall, when Ginny had walked noisily down the stairs from her dormitory. She'd stopped over by Harry long enough to comment on his essay before abruptly leaving. Harry shrugged and went back to his essay only to feel the warmth of his Mirror in his robe pocket a minute later.
Reluctantly Harry closed his book and stuffed it and the roll of parchment he'd been writing on into his bag. He looked around to see if anyone seemed to be watching him, and then he walked out of the common room. Ginny was waiting nearby, smiling at him.
"I have an essay to work on, I'm—"
"You'll have plenty of time to finish it later," Ginny interrupted with a cheery smile. "It's not even due tomorrow."
After that, she'd grabbed his arm and began pulling him through the halls of Hogwarts. Once they'd gotten away from the common room, Ginny had stopped and pulled a hat down over Harry's eyes, effectively blindfolding him. Luckily they didn't encounter anyone else, since it would take a little more than usual to explain what they were doing. Instead, Harry simply accepted that she was leading him somewhere. Part of him enjoyed the freedom of simply not caring. He followed passively as Ginny led him down invisible corridors and through unseen doorways.
Finally they came to a stop, and suddenly turned around. Without a word she started walking back to where they came from only to stop and turn again.
"Wonderful," Harry said, "even you don't know where we're going. I would help, you know, but..."
"Shut up, you," Ginny replied, poking him squarely in the chest. "It's back this way."
Ginny took a few more steps and then stopped abruptly. She turned sharply to the right and opened a heavy door. She firmly pushed Harry through it and shut it behind her. A second later, the hat was pulled from Harry's head revealing a large ballroom lit by candles floating about at eye level. The floor was polished and reflected the candles. The ceiling was dark, with sparkling points, similar to the ceiling of the Great Hall.
"It's the Room of Requirements," he said softly. "It's brilliant."
"It's perfect," Ginny agreed, smiling brightly. "Come on, Harry. Let's teach you how to dance."
At first Harry protested, remembering his dreadful performance at the Yule Ball two years ago, but Ginny was persistent and refused to let him leave without at least trying. His first few steps were uneasy and clumsy. Ginny had her feet stepped on a number of times, but she didn't complain and didn't give up. Harry thought he was getting better. Ginny seemed to think so as well, but while Harry made less mistakes, the ones he did make were done with much more confidence and thus more painful for Ginny than the weak, tentative steps he'd been messing up at first. After one particularly nasty step, Ginny winced and declared that they should take a break.
"Sorry about that," Harry apologized. "I'm getting better, I swear."
"I know you are, Harry," she replied with a weak smile. "It's for the best, in the end. I suppose this is only practice for my night with Neville." Ginny looked as if she regretted her earlier decision to go to the ball with the same boy who'd stomped on her toes for an hour two years ago. "At least I got some time to dance with you," she added with a smile and a slight blush.
"Well, if I don't get any better, you won't have to worry about it. You won't have to go to the ball with anyone, because you'll barely be able to walk." Harry felt a slight pang after he made the joke. That was pretty much what had happened to Susan Bones.
Ginny saw the look on Harry's face and laughed lightly. "And that's part of Voldemort's scheme as well, is it? After an hour with Neville I'll be as bad off as Susan?"
Harry paused for a moment, unsure how to react. The answer came to him a second later when he felt a laugh bubbling up from his stomach. He didn't know if it was some charm placed on the room, or if it was the look in Ginny's eyes, but at that moment, he didn't feel like the whole wizarding world was depending on him. He was just a boy in a room, taking a break after dancing with his girlfriend. It felt good to laugh.
"You know, we shouldn't be joking about that," he laughed as Ginny's smile widened.
"Of course not," she replied as her face froze into mock seriousness. "If we're not careful, Voldemort might get angry with us."
Harry stopped laughing, but his smile remained. "I suppose it can't get much worse, can it?"
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Ginny said in a low voice. "I like Hannah, really. She's nice. I don't want her to get hurt." Ginny stood up and walked to where Harry was leaning against the wall. She put one of her small hands on his shoulder, and looked into his eyes. "But if I don't help you learn to dance, you're going to smash every last one of her toes into the floor."
Ginny flashed a smile, and with a wave of her wand the music increased in speed and volume. She pulled him back toward the center of the room and they continued dancing. After the rest and laughter, Harry found himself feeling much more comfortable and that feeling seemed to be just what he needed to really start improving.
It took some time, but after an hour of dancing lightly (with occasional breaks for Ginny to try and show him how he could improve), Harry found himself actually enjoying the activity. He didn't have to concentrate on his feet. He was able to simply relax, and enjoy the experience.
Ginny had realized the same thing, and seemed to have stopped being a teacher and took time to simply enjoy dancing with Harry. Without any warning, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and laid her head on his shoulder. Harry tensed up for a moment as he felt his throat constrict. He tried to breathe, but his lungs weren't cooperating. He tried to say something, and when that didn't work, he tried to look at Ginny, hoping he could find some way to explain his current asphyxiation problem.
When he looked down, Ginny's head was on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed and she had a gentle, innocent smile on her face, like the smile of a child holding their dearest treasure. Suddenly breathing didn't matter as much as he thought it had. He could feel her body pressing lightly against his, the warmth of her arms around his neck and the rhythm of her breathing against his chest.
He looked about the room, as the candles dodged around them, swirling slowly in time to the soft music. The room had darkened considerably, leaving them mostly in darkness. The stars on the ceiling twinkled and reflected sparkles of light off the silvery columns and mirrors hanging from the walls. Harry felt warm and light on his feet. He felt amazing. He didn't know if he could ever feel happier than he did at that moment.
When he looked back at Ginny, she was no longer resting her head on his shoulder. She was now looking directly into his eyes, her smile mirroring his own. Harry felt his heart beating faster as he stared back into her eyes, the warm glows of the candles reflected in them, highlighting the thin ring of brown around her pupils.
Suddenly his lips were touching hers. He didn't know if he was still dancing. He didn't even know if he was breathing. All he knew is that he didn't want this to end. He could smell the soft fragrance of her hair and feel her soft lips against his. He felt her hands pulling him down to her, and then slowly all the sensations merged together, so that he could no longer tell exactly what was going on, just that he was with her. Harry's mind swam with happiness. It seemed to go on forever.
A new jolt of excitement shot through him as Ginny's head tilted slightly and Harry felt something lightly touching his lips. Fear flashed through his mind (Was that her tongue?) but it was quickly followed by oblivion as the tip of her tongue brushed playfully against his. Harry felt her hands slide down to the small of his back. Slowly one slid around to his side, while the other seemed to be drifting lower. Harry's eyes seemed to be stuck shut. What was she doing?
As if she had heard his thoughts, her hand slid further down, making Harry's breath catch. He felt his body tense as the world seemed to turn to bright daylight.
"Ginny! What are you doing?"
A fresh feeling hit Harry: mindless panic. The voice in his head had never sounded like that, and where was that light coming from? Harry's eyes snapped open to see Ginny's eyes only inches away, filled with the same horror he felt. Someone else was in the room. They leapt apart violently, turning to see who had entered.
Just inside the door, Harry could see three silhouettes against the door through the light cast by someone's wand. He was certain he knew who one of them was, but who else was here? He heard a harsh whisper from his right, where Ginny was standing. The room brightened quickly, revealing their visitors.
Harry felt as if his blood had turned to ice water. Standing just inside the door were Ron, Hermione and Hannah Abbot. All three of them looked as if they'd just seen a Basilisk. Harry wanted to say something but he couldn't imagine any way of explaining what had been happening.
"Wh-What are you doing here?" he managed to say lamely.
"What are you doing here?" Ron retorted. "And why are you kissing my sister?"
Harry stared at Ron in disbelief. "Why am I..." He turned to Ginny who seemed more angry than embarrassed. She was, however, ignoring Harry for the moment, and wasn't going to defend him.
"It's none of your business, Ron," she scolded him. "I don't need your permission to leave the tower, do I? Or do you normally sneak around spying on me?"
"We weren't spying on you," Hermione said quickly. She didn't look as shocked as Ron and Hannah, but she also didn't seem eager to try and get between her friends. "You'd said you were going to teach Harry how dance—"
"That was supposed to be a secret," Ginny growled.
"—Well I didn't tell Harry," Hermione replied. "Hannah and I thought it might be a good idea to teach Ron, too." Ron gave her a disgusted look.
Ginny looked horrified. "You told her? Why?"
Hannah glared back at Ginny. "Because Harry is my date. Maybe you forgot after kissing him for so long?"
"He might be your date, but he's my boyfriend!"
The room became frighteningly silent as everyone turned to stare at Ginny. Harry was just as shocked as anyone else. What happened to trying to keep it a secret? It was fine when it was just Hermione, but then Claire knew. Harry had assumed Ron would find out sooner or later, and now Hannah knew as well. How many other people were going to find out?
"He's your what?" Hannah asked incredulously. "Have you been sipping Firewhiskey? Is this some joke?"
"He can't be your boyfriend..." Ron said as he studied his sister's face. "He's like another brother to you. You told Fred and George you were over him." Ginny just stared back at him. Ron looked over at Harry. "You gotta tell her the truth, Harry."
Harry felt the color in his cheeks as Ginny turned to look at him. She looked worried for a moment, but then her face relaxed and a small smile appeared. She nodded slightly.
Harry took a deep breath. "It's the truth, Ron."
Ron's face was a mixture of surprise, confusion, and betrayal. Hannah looked just as confused as she did before, and since Ron was speechless, she decided to speak up for him. She fixed Harry with a steely glare.
"Three weeks ago you asked me to the ball, but now she's your girlfriend," she said with a little anger. "That must have been quite a kiss."
Harry looked from Hannah to Ginny, then to Hermione. They'd told him this would work out. It wasn't. It was falling apart. Everything was falling apart. What was the point of trying to fight it anymore? He slowly turned back to Hannah, but his mood softened as he saw the traces of disappointment in her eyes.
"It wasn't... I just needed a date for the Ball," he tried to explain. "It... Ginny and I have been— It's just a Ball."
"Oh," Hannah said, as her eyes dropped to the floor.
"And, well, I couldn't go with Ginny," he said, although at the moment he couldn't remember exactly why he couldn't.
"Right. I guess it was a bit silly of me to—" Hannah mumbled. "I mean, I barely even knew you... but everyone says you're really great, and it felt nice to be noticed, even if I wasn't your first choice." She sat down against the wall nearby, and let out a short laugh. "Ginny said that I was really lucky."
"I just wanted someone who was nice, and who I could trust," Harry explained. "At first I didn't want to take anyone, but Ginny told Hermione and she tricked—"
"Wait. She what?" Ron said as he turned to glare at Hermione, who had been standing apart from the rest of them, and keeping quiet. "You knew about this and didn't tell me?" Suddenly Ron's eyebrows raised as if he'd remembered something important. "The morning after I asked you to the Ball... Ginny was acting strange... She's been acting odd since then. This is why, isn't it?" Hermione simply rolled her eyes and stared back at him.
Ron turned on Harry next. "I thought you were my best mate. You've been dating my sister for, what..." Ron paused and seemed to be counting in his head "—a month, and you didn't tell me?"
"Ron, Ginny's been acting strange since this summer," Hermione interjected.
The truth suddenly hit Ron as he stared at Harry and Ginny. Even Hannah looked up in surprise. "Six months!" Ron shouted. "And you knew about it?" he said to Hermione. "You couldn't tell me? None of you could?" Ron was actually starting to look hurt.
"It had to be a secret, Ron," Ginny said firmly. "I didn't tell anyone and neither did Harry."
"She knew!" Ron said pointing a long finger at Hermione.
"She figured it out for herself!" Ginny shouted back. Ron gave her a sour look.
"And she can keep a secret, but I can't? Is that it?"
"Not from Mad-Eye Moody, you can't," Ginny responded. "He never even thought of asking Hermione. And he thought that I was always lying to him. It had to be a secret. I was trying to help Harry. If Moody would have known he'd have made sure it never happened."
"And where is Moody now?" Ron asked, his arms outstretched. "Who are you keeping the secret from now?"
"From Tom Riddle," Ginny replied plainly. "From the Death Eaters. From the Daily Prophet—"
"Why should any of them care if Harry's dating some girl?"
"Honestly, Ron," Ginny said in an almost patronizing voice. "If they found out I was Harry's girlfriend, I'd become the biggest target in the wizarding world. Right now, it's a tie between you and Hermione, but you can be certain that I'd overshadow both of you in an instant."
Ron's mouth snapped shut and he stared at Harry. "Then maybe you shouldn't be dating him at all. I mean, if it's so dangerous—"
"It's too late for that, Ron," Ginny said sharply. "It's just as bad if someone finds out that that we were dating but stopped after someone found out."
Ron crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine then. We keep it a secret. It's just the four of us, so it shouldn't be too bad—"
"Dumbledore and Lupin know as well," Ginny added, prompting Ron to glare at her.
"So does McGonagall," Harry said.
Ginny looked over at Harry. "I think Cho figured it out, too."
"She has," Hermione said, "And Blaise and Daphne picked up on it by watching her. I don't think they'll tell anyone else though."
Ron looked visibly upset. "Anyone else?"
He didn't expect the response he got. "Najib Tefarra and Lazlo Petrov both guessed it," offered Harry. Before he finished, Hermione was already talking.
"If Fred and George haven't figured it out by now they've got some strong suspicions, and I'm sure Tonks has guessed it, too."
"So did Claire. Dean, too, but he was completely mental at the time, so no one believed him." Ginny added after everyone else had finished. The room fell silent as everyone looked at each other and understood the situation.
Without anyone noticing, the number of people who knew about Harry and Ginny had grown to at least fifteen people, including Harry and Ginny themselves. They exchanged a worried look.
"This isn't going to work," he warned the rest of them.
"Maybe not," Ginny replied, "but it doesn't hurt to keep it up for a little longer."
"You're joking," Ron said as he looked at his sister. "You're going to trust Slytherins to keep a secret, some third year Ravenclaw you barely know to not tell her friends, and Neville to keep quiet about his date being one of his mates' girlfriend?"
"We're not telling Neville," Ginny answered quickly. Her eyes were large and locked on Ron's face. "We're not telling anyone else, especially not Neville."
"You let Hannah know," Ron countered. "Isn't it fair to let Neville know, too? At least let him know—"
"That was a mistake, Ron," Harry interrupted. "We weren't going to tell Hannah—" Harry turned to give her an apologetic look. "Sorry, but we weren't." Hannah shrugged and nodded. "I... I can't say why I know it, but this is really serious. If the secret gets out, something horrible is going to happen. This is just what Voldemort is looking for."
Ron grunted in annoyance. "Perfect. Ginny's risking her life by dating you, but it's worse if she stops. You can't let the world know about it, but the number of people who've figured it out is growing. You'll never keep it up." He walked over to the door, but stopped. "There's no way out, Harry. You're trapped. If this were a game of chess, now'd be the perfect time to resign. "
"Oh, and that's a better option, is it?" Harry replied angrily. "I'll just give up and Voldemort and I can start another game, right? Best of three, you think?" Ron turned to face him, looking more annoyed than before, but Harry didn't stop. "This isn't chess, this is my life, Ron. I don't get to sacrifice my pieces and I if I resign, I'm dead. If you're so wise, you tell me what I'm supposed to do."
"It's too late," Ron answered. "You can't get out of this without someone getting hurt. You should have thought of that before you put yourself in this position. And before you put Ginny in it with you." With a huff, he wrenched the door open and walked out, allowing it to close behind him.
The rest of them stood around silently for a while longer. Then, by silent accord, they all slowly walked to the door. Harry apologized to Hannah a final time, and she shrugged and smiled again, telling him that she was fine. When they left the room, they found Ron waiting silently for them in the hallway. As they walked off, he fell in next to Hermione. Eventually, Hannah turned to go down a different hallway. The four Gryffindors waved silently and kept walking.
Harry felt a little happier knowing that he didn't have to keep his secret from Ron anymore, but it would have been a little better if Ron would have said something or even simply looked at him on the way back to Gryffindor tower.
The four of them split in the common room, a pair headed up each staircase. Harry went to bed immediately. Ron hadn't said anything when they reached their room, but he'd glared at Harry when Neville had looked up from some Herbology book to greet them.
Harry wondered if Ron was right. He'd never be able to tell anyone about Ginny, but he didn't know how much longer it would be a secret. There wasn't anything he could do, though. He'd fight it just like he'd fought it every year since he'd come to Hogwarts. Everything had worked out before. Hopefully, it would work out again.
Harry fell into a uncomfortable, restless sleep.
Author's Notes:
Well, is everyone happy now? Another romantic moment for Harry, and yet again it's ruined by Hermione. I guess it really does seem like she's trying to cause problems, doesn't it.
This chapter is loaded with information, and there's a decent amount of thematic foundation here if you're looking for it. Harry's got a better idea what he's up against, but he's been having pretty poor luck so far. With only 17 chapters left, the story's going to be picking up soon.
The next chapter should still be a bit fun. It's the Quidditch chapter. How bad could it be?
I said I wouldn't do this, but I think it's best if we all get used to disappointment, so here is a spoiler for the next chapter. I'll try to get it posted (along with a few more chapters) within the next few days:
"Harry felt a pair of lips pressing against his own... Harry took a second to register what was happening. His eyes had closed almost instinctively, but they opened again now, and saw Hermione's eyes staring directly at him. It was odd, to say the least. It did feel nice, he allowed himself to admit.."
Wow. That was so wrong. I don't know if I'm evil enough to let that stand. I might have to upload the next chapter sooner than I thought.