Disclaimer: Many thanks to JKR for letting me play with her action figures.

The War Room

Harry and Ginny's inspection of the broomshed turned up nothing more than a few startled spiders. "Well, Ron will be grateful to know the brooms are now safe," Harry said solemnly as they went back to the house for dinner. "I'd say those eight-legged creepy-crawlies definitely learned their lesson."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "If the spiders learned a lesson on snogging, I think there will soon be more spiders in there, not less."

Harry's grin was just a tiny bit smug as he held the door open for her to enter the kitchen.

After eating far more helpings of shepherd's pie than he thought he could hold, followed by apple pie, Harry was lounging on the couch with Ron. He'd offered to help with dishes, but was shooed out with the other Weasley menfolk. The twins were ribbing Ron about Hermione. Harry thought it prudent to bring up a new topic before Fred and George started in on him and Ginny.

"Oi, you guys have to see the War Room at Hogwarts!" Harry said. "It's brilliant! There's this enormous map on one wall that's like a huge Marauder's Map, and a dueling ring, punching bags, targets… oh and tons of books of course, thanks to Hermione."

"War Room?" Fred asked.

"At Hogwarts?" George queried.

"There was never a War Room on the Map."

"Well, we weren't at war before." George shrugged. "Unless prank wars count."

"No, Hermione and I made it in the Room of Requirement. We asked for anything that could help us fight Voldemort. It's really excellent."

"Harry was just telling us about the War Room, Hermione," Ron said eagerly when the girls filed out of the kitchen. "We all want to see it."

In the end, everyone wanted to go. Hermione Flooed into Headquarters first. Hearing music and laughter upstairs, she quickly sent a Patronus message to Tonks.

"Going to Hogwarts through the cabinet to see the War Room. Password is Minerva's Minions."

Without waiting for a response, she and the rest of the group headed through the Vanishing Cabinet.

"Holy Hecate!" Ron gasped in amazement. "If this place can't help us defeat the Carcass of Darkness, I don't know what will."

Fred and George tested the dueling ring while Harry demonstrated the map for Ron and Ginny. Hermione showed Mr. Weasley a book on Muggle firearms. He frowned and pointed to a cut-away view of a long-range sniper rifle. "Muggle wands don't work on wizards," he commented. "Magical energies manipulate them too easily. It would need to be ah, adjusted, to make it functional for a wizard to use, and even then it may not be very reliable. It would probably be fine to use against werewolves, from a long distance."

Hermione nodded, "Yes, sir, I understand that, I know a wizard would be able to interfere with mechanical workings, or dissolve a bullet and heal the wounds caused by a regular gun in an instant, so it wouldn't be totally effective as it is, but what if we used bullets filled with a potion?"

"What do you mean? What kind of potion?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"It could be nearly anything, depending on the effects we want to achieve," Hermione said. "We could use Draught of Living Death or Sleeping Draught to incapacitate, or Befuddlement Draught, or Exploding Solution... You see, Muggles use something similar, a dart gun, where the darts are loaded with a tranquilizer; a sleeping potion of sorts, to subdue large animals. Some cultures use poison-tipped arrows in the same way, but we want something that gave us a much farther range and better accuracy."

"Ah, I can see where that could be used very effectively," Mr. Weasley said. "I'll tell Kingsley and Tonks about this; this is something the Aurors should have."

"Just keep it to people we trust explicitly though," Hermione warned. "We don't want the wrong people getting this kind of information. Voldemort might scoff at Muggle ingenuity, but he won't hesitate to find a way to stop it."

"Oh," Mr. Weasley looked sadly disappointed. "You mean I can't give an interview to the Prophet?"

Hermione looked alarmed until she spotted a twinkle in his eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that the twins take after you?"

Tonks and Lupin came through the cabinet then. "Wotcher Weasleys!" Tonks chirped cheerfully. "Hiya Harry, Hermione."

"Hello Tonks," Hermione responded. "You're very alliterative today."

"I've been practicing my tongue twisters," Tonks winked. "Well, tongue twisting, anyway."

Lupin, who'd merely raised an eyebrow at her comment, took Tonks' elbow and ushered her over to look at the map.

"What, Remus? I really have! 'She sells sea shells by the sea shore.' See? Gotta keep all those glossus muscles toned. The better to enunciate spells, of course. You should try it."

"Ah, of course," he flashed a grin. "So you can say, 'My, what a strong tongue you have!'"

"Mmmm, you big, bad wolf, you," Tonks murmured.

"All the better to snog you with, my dear."

"I gotta find me a picnic basket full of goodies..."

Later that night, Ginny and Hermione were in their room. The boys had gone down to raid the kitchen, and Ginny sat on her bed, watching Hermione read.

"Hermione, do you ever think about marrying Ron?" she asked.

Hermione looked closely at Ginny, then flicked her wand at the door to lock and soundproof it.

"Why do you ask?" Hermione said warily.

"Well, mum said lots of people eloped young last time Voldemort was in power," Ginny said. "I just wondered if you ever thought about it, not knowing how much time we might have left…"

Hermione paused for a moment before answering.

"Yes, I have thought about it," she finally replied. "I've thought about how it suddenly isn't very important to have a romantic proposal, a long engagement, a gorgeous white dress, or a horse-drawn carriage. What's important is family, and being together with people you love. If Ron asked me to marry him tomorrow, I would, because I'd be thankful my parents are alive to walk me down the aisle, and your family would all be with us to celebrate. If we wait a few years to have the big fancy wedding my mother has always hoped for, the memory of that day may be touched with sadness. Or one or both of us could die, and we'd never have had that time together at all."

"At least you're legally of age so it's an option," Ginny said quietly. "I wish… I ache inside, I want to be with Harry all the time. I'm so scared for him, I feel sick and miserable and vulnerable if we're not together. Sometimes I wonder, if we could get married, so we were really together–the 'til death do us part' kind… maybe I'd feel better. I know, people would say it's an obsession or just puppy love. I don't know how to explain it, but I know that it's not just a phase. It's the real thing, it's not going to go away. Obviously we can't get married, but some kind of commitment would help. Some sign that he is fighting for the chance at a future together, not just to rid the world of Voldemort."

"Oh, he's thought about it, I think," Hermione said. "Though I don't know if he would recognize it..."

Ginny looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Well, back in our first year, Harry found the Mirror of Erised--the enchanted mirror that shows you your heart's deepest desire," Hermione told her. "Harry saw himself surrounded by his family. He saw his parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. Well, minus the Dursleys, evidently. But he was only eleven then, and had never considered having a family of his own someday." Hermione smiled. "I bet that same mirror would show him a whole bunch of redheads if he were to look into it again now."

"Is that what it would show you, too?"

"Yes. I'd see loads of redheads, Harry, my parents and I, all together after this whole thing is all over. You, Harry and your brothers would be playing Quidditch, screaming and laughing in the sun while your parents help me mind the children."

"Children?" Ginny nearly fell off her bed. "You think about children? I thought you meant lots of redheads being my family."

"Well, they'd be there too, but I'm an only child," Hermione reminded her. "It was pretty lonely growing up. Being around your family makes me happy. It just makes me think someday I'd like to have several kids. They'd always have each other, you see, like you and your brothers."

"Does Harry talk about kids?" Ginny asked hesitantly. "He's never mentioned them. Maybe he doesn't even like kids. For that matter, I don't know if I like kids."

Hermione smiled reassuringly at Ginny. "I doubt Harry has ever been around babies or small children. He was funny at the Quidditch World Cup. He just stared at the families with small children. I remember there was one little boy who had his father's wand and blew up a slug, and two little girls on miniature broomsticks flying around. I think Harry would have stayed there and just watched them play if Ron hadn't kept moving."

"Probably thinking about the childhood he should have had," Ginny murmured sadly.

"That's possible." Hermione nodded. "He'll be more likely to want to recreate that for himself and live vicariously through his own children someday. That would be good for him. The idea might scare him half to death at first, because he's not had much of a parenting example growing up, but I think he'd be a good father."

"Ron will be, too," Ginny said. "He's just an overgrown kid himself. Kids always love him. Anytime we had people visit with kids, they were drawn to Ron like a magnet. Usually he got them all working together and they'd sneak around trying to torment the twins. I always got stuck with the girls who wanted me to plait their hair and paint their nails." She made a face.

Hermione laughed, "Poor Ginny." She flicked her wand at the door, unlocking and opening it. "The boys should be coming back up soon. What are the odds of them bringing us a biscuit?" Crookshanks leaped lightly on the bed with her, rubbing his squashed face on the corner of her book and she stroked him absently.

"Harry might think of it, but Ron would eat them before they made it all the way up the stairs," Ginny predicted. Hermione smiled as they heard stealthy footsteps on the stairs. Everyone tiptoed around Mrs. Black's portrait, especially at night.

"So those big bags hanging in the War room are full of sand?" Ron asked Harry in confusion. "Why do we want to hit and kick bags of sand?"

"Strength, agility and endurance training," Hermione answered promptly for him as they wandered into the girls' room. "Tonks will find those very useful for us for the martial arts training, I believe."

"Hermione, is there a potion like Muggle steroids?" Harry asked, handing each of the girls a biscuit, not noticing the amused glance the two shared. "I don't really know anything about steroids, except I remember they were illegal for Muggle sports because they gave too much of an advantage. But we need any advantage we can get."

"Muggle steroids are too dangerous. I will look for something else… I had thought of Strengthening Solution, but that would have bad side effects if used on a long-term basis. It's like Felix Felicis; you have to use it very sparingly. Also, Muggle steroids have something in them that increases a person's tolerance for pain. Considering the Cruciatus is a favorite curse among Death Eaters, we really should be looking for something to counteract that. Good ideas." She whipped out her ever-present parchment and made another note.

"We have so much to do." She chewed her lower lip worriedly. "Harry, my parents have decided to come here to help us. They're just making arrangements to close their practice for awhile. I know you've already put off your plans to go to Godric's Hollow, but could we get them moved in here Monday and Tuesday? We could go to Godric's Hollow on Wednesday. With the wedding Saturday, we should really spend Thursday and Friday at the Burrow helping Mrs. Weasley. We also have to go to Hogwarts for ingredients for Wolfbane potion. Maybe we could do that Tuesday evening. I will send notes to Luna and Neville right now and see when they can get here." The two owls flew in from the boys' room as if summoned, and Hermione wasted no time attaching the notes to their legs and sending them out the window.

"Yeah, that should work." Harry absently watched the owls fly off. "I need to go through some of the memories Dumbledore gave me with his Pensieve too, and I want you to see the ones he shared with me about Riddle." He paused, struggling with a decision internally. Finally he muttered, "There is a memory in the box from Dumbledore… It was mine, my memory from the night Voldemort killed my parents."

Ginny went to Harry and gently took his hand. "We don't need to talk about any of this tonight," she said firmly. "It's late. Hermione, didn't you say something about talking to Ron? I'll keep Harry company so you have some privacy." She steered Harry out of the room and shut the door behind them.

"She's getting pretty good at taking care of him, isn't she," Ron commented, almost sadly.

"He still needs us, too," Hermione met his gaze. Then she smiled, "She's not taking him from you, you know. He'll always be your best mate. Have you noticed though, he's gotten better about sharing things with us? He's telling us about things he would have kept from us before. There was always a part of him no one could reach."

"What do you mean? He tells me stuff," Ron said indignantly.

"Yes, but even you got frustrated with him not telling you when something bothered him. It was that nobility complex--his 'saving people thing'--trying to protect us from the ugly parts of his life. The prophecy is one example. You know he thinks that people who get close to him die."

"That's just stupid."

"His parents, Sirius, Dumbledore… He also has a lot of guilt over Cedric's death," Hermione reminded. "Don't tell me you haven't felt like he's always kept everyone at arm's length. You and I may have gotten closer to him than most, but he's always kept some distance."

"Well, blokes don't have to spill all their secrets to be friends," Ron defended. "That's just a girl thing."

"So in the six years you've spent living together for more than ten months per year, just how well do you feel you know Harry?" Hermione asked skeptically. She whipped out her ever-present parchment yet again and made another note. "We'll play a game tomorrow. I bet we will find out all kinds of things we didn't know."

She put her parchment down with a sly smile and locked the door with her wand, adding a silencing spell for good measure. "Meanwhile," she slipped her fingers under his shirt, "We can get to know each other better."

"Was that what you wanted to 'talk' to me about?" Ron grinned.

Ginny straddled Harry's bare back, firmly massaging scented oil into his skin.

"Harry," she whispered softly. When he didn't respond, she smiled, slipped out of her dressing gown, and slid into bed next to him. She doused the light with her wand, locked and silenced the door with another quick motion, and did a brushing and flossing spell on both her and Harry's teeth. No point in adding tooth decay to their list of problems. Harry stirred, rolling to his side to face her. She watched him sleep for awhile, snuggling close. His arm automatically crept around her, pulling her body warmly against his.

Harry awoke later in the night. He squinted at the clock and turned to watch Ginny sleep.

"Harry, it creeps me out when people stare at me," Ginny said, startling him. She opened her eyes and smiled at his astonished expression. "Just kidding. What's the matter? Can't sleep? Bad dreams? Am I hogging the bed? Snoring?"

"I was just dreaming, I guess," Harry answered, propping himself up on his elbow.

"About me?" Ginny's eyebrows rose suggestively.

"Er, no..." Harry answered, then was suddenly horrified at the thought of having one of those dreams about Ginny while she was actually sleeping in his bed.

"So you do dream about me sometimes?"

"Erm," Harry wondered what he should say. He decided to go with the truth and hope she didn't ask for details. "Yes, actually, I dream about you quite a lot."

"What do I wear in your dreams?" Ginny smiled wickedly.

Harry gave her a speculative look. "Oddly enough, it's this kind of shirt thing that you're wearing." He ran a finger under the shoulder strap of her camisole top. "And Snitch boxers."

Ginny looked shocked.

Harry thought he'd quite possibly stepped over a line somehow and hurried to describe the dream that awakened him.

"So erm, anyway, in my dream, there were these things--some of them are the Horcruxes that we know about: the cup, locket and snake--and there are some other things I can't quite see or reach. Dumbledore is there, trying to give me a rope ladder, but as soon as I grab it, it turns into snakes. I've had the same dream before, but it really doesn't make sense."

"Well, Luna will help when she gets here," Ginny said. "She is really quite good at dream interpretation." She reached out to trail her fingers down his chest and stomach. "We just won't ask her the meanings of all of your dreams."

Harry followed her lead, his fingers tracing a path from her shoulder blade, down the ridges of her ribs and dip of her waist, then up to the curve of her hip. He stopped. These weren't the usual baggy cotton pajama pants she wore.

"Did you transfigure your pajamas?"

"Actually, no, these are an early birthday present for you."

He was intrigued. His fingers found the hem of the shorts and tickled the back of her thigh. "So, you got me shorts and you're wearing them for me?"

"Wellll," she drawled huskily. "You should ask..." She slid closer. "Are the shorts the present?" She kissed his neck and whispered, "Or are they just the wrapping?"