Sry I didn't upate for ages. My beta went on holiday (I missed you, Kat!) and then my internet connection messed up, and then there was that episode w/ the attachments (You know what I'm talking about, Kat!)

Harry was in the middle of telling the Hufflepuff second years about boggarts when a shrill voice sounded from his bag.

"Oi! Gin! Over protective prat number six wants to talk to yooo!"

The whole class jumped, and Helga Radcliffe gave a little scream, however Ginny merely groaned from the desk and dug the parchment out of her bag, Harry watching her in amusement. She picked up a quill and scribbled a line or two, paused, her eyes scanning the paper and then reported to Harry, "Looks like Ronniekins has been on the old Firewhisky again."

Harry gave a very un-teacher like snort, but otherwise made no comment, and turned again to face his class. After a moment of furious scrawling, Ginny reported, "Actually, never mind that, he's just drunk with happiness. He's not so hush-hush over the whole Hermione thing."

Harry sighed theatrically.

"Is he in a silly mood?"

Ginny nodded her auburn head.

"Yup. Could you speak to him, and I'll teach? I can't read any more of his gabblings. Don't worry," she added, seeing Harry eyeing her beadily, "I won't corrupt your sweet little secondies."

Harry narrowed his eyes, "Only because I want to speak to Ron. But I'm watching you, Weasley. One false move and you're out on your scrawny arse."

Ginny glowered at him.
"Whose arse are you calling scrawny?"

The second years had been watching their teachers in confusion and more than a little shock. Teachers didn't talk about Firewhisky and arses. And who on earth was Ronniekins?

Harry pulled the parchment toward him, scribbled something, and then paused, his eyes moving across the parchment. He then gagged suddenly, and Ginny looked at him with an expression that was part pity, and part deep amusement.

"Gross, eh?"

Harry's voice sounded quite unlike his own when he spoke.

"His words will haunt me for the rest of my natural life. No one wants to hear about what a great kisser their best friend is."

Ginny grimaced.

"Did he write that?"

"Yeah, and look, he's got something else to say, he doesn't usually ramble on like…eugh!"

He made a revolted sound as he read the last line, and then thrust the parchment at Ginny, saying squeakily, "Read this. I don't want to face it alone."

Ginny scanned the words, and then in unison, the two teachers groaned and started banging their heads against the desk, whimpering.

ß

Albus Dumbledore surveyed the faces around the circle of teachers, his eyes somber. Most were ashen with shock, but the expressions of the two youngest members of staff were of grim determination. Harry broke the shocked silence.

"Some time in March, you say?"

The headmaster nodded.

"That's what our leak told me."

"Before she was tortured to insanity," Minerva interjected bitterly. A collective shudder brought a fresh picture of Celia McNair to each of their mind's eyes.

"Poor girl," said Filius softly, "Poor girl. She was far too young."

"Now is not the time to dwell on Celia's fate." Dumbledore said quietly, "We must ask ourselves what to do about the planned attack."

Ginny snorted, "It's obvious, isn't it? We're going to fight."

McGonagall arched an eyebrow.

"May I enquire as to how? We're a school, not an army! We'll have to inform the Ministry and ask for aid!"

Harry had said nothing since Dumbledore had broken the news, but his expression was not one of fear, but of shrewd calculation. As the teacher's eyes swiveled automatically to the Headmaster, he chose his time to speak up.

"You forget, Minerva, that Voldemort has spies in the Ministry. As soon as he gets wind of our knowledge of his plans, he'll try a different tack. And if I know Tom Riddle, and I do, his attack will be more violent, direct and fatal. We're all capable of defence, are we not? The DAs are doing well, and if they're anything like the last group I trained, four months will have them ready for a battle they can win. Filius and Minerva can focus on defensive spell work in their lessons, and Silvia here…" he nodded at the Potions Mistress, "can clue her students in on healing potions and so on. What we're looking at is a full-scale siege, and we can't underestimate the enemy. That's what makes us cocky, and that's what'll get us killed"

Madam Sprout snorted. She felt many things about the attack on Hogwarts, but cockiness was not one of them.

"You say we can train our students up," said Minerva crisply, "but how are we to do so without panicking the students? They're our first priority."

"Better panicked than dead," replied Harry grimly, "And besides, we're good enough teachers to incorporate this into our regular lessons, aren't we? Besides, telling the students would be fatal, plenty of parents are Death Eaters, and I wouldn't be surprised if some of the sixth and seventh years have taken the mark."

Silvia let out a small sob.

"It's hopeless, isn't it?"

Harry looked at her witheringly.

"No such word. Planning, strategy and a bit of luck will win us this. We can do the first two and pray for the third and we're in for a chance."

"A chance isn't enough!" McGonagall exploded, "Students lives are at risk! We need more than a chance!"

Harry surveyed her coolly.

"A chance is the best we're going to get, Minerva. I suggest we take it."

His green eyes locked onto her black ones and he held the gaze unflinchingly, until she broke, looking away and back toward Dumbledore. The old seemed to have aged in a few short minutes, and the twinkle was gone from his eyes. He sighed heavily.

"I must confess, I have experience of war, but not battle," he said, sighing heavily, "I hand the defence of the castle over to Harry."

"And Ginny," said Harry swiftly.

"And Ginny," Dumbledore agreed. "We have four months, but that may be enough. As Harry said, we can pray."

"We can pray," the teachers echoed solemnly, and with that the meeting was dismissed.

ß

Harry was poring over a map of Hogwarts castle, while Ginny sat with a heavy volume fresh from the restricted section.

"Two hundred and seventeen DA members that can potentially do battle, right?"

Ginny nodded, "And eighty three first to third years capable of holding a fort."

Harry nodded, and went back to the map.

"What d'you think of getting some of the best flyers out over the Forbidden Forest to bring down as many as they can? Disillusioned, of course."

Ginny considered.

"If we can pull the portkey idea off, then yeah, but first we need to mass produce the portkeys."

She pulled a rough sketch of the Hogwarts crest toward her, with various footnotes inscribed on the parchment.

"Plus, we need to make all those Sustenance Draughts, and have them bottled. God, the one thing I hate more than a battle is preparing for one."

She gestured at the diagrams, parchments, books and quills that littered the coffee table in front of the sofa, tidying a small stack of notes and weighing them down with a mug.

"James and Sirius have been doing well," Harry commented, thinking of the progress the two boys had made in their Imperius lessons, "It'd be useful if we could teach that to the rest of the year. There's bound to be Unforgivables being shot, knowing Tom."

Ginny picked up a rather tatty lesson plan, and hastily scribbled Learn to throw off Imperius in bold capitals, and threw down the lesson plan.

"One of the main factors is keeping Lily and James safe, even if we're the only ones who know it," she pointed out.

Harry began to play with his hands, biting his lip.

"Yeah – it's just – I have this weird feeling that they'll find the battle, however much we try to protect them. And if they're anything like me, they won't like being protected."

Ginny grimaced, remembering all the times Dumbledore had tried to keep Harry safely wrapped up in cotton wool. And how well that had turned out.

She glanced absentmindedly up at the clock, and then gave a start.

"Bloody Hell, Harry, it's three in the bleedin' morning! We've been doing this for seven hours, and we need to be up in four!"

Harry looked at her, his eyes feverish,

"We need to keep this up, Gin. We've only got four months!"

"And in one night you've had most of the battle strategy sorted out," Ginny pointed out, "C'mon, Harry! If you don't get at least some sleep then you won't be able to teach, and that's just as important as the strategy."

Harry sighed, and his shoulders slumped.

"I hate this, Gin. I hate it. I thought we were done with war."

Ginny slipped a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"Harry. Stop whining."

If anyone else had said it, Harry would be straight down their throat, but Ginny had always been the one to remind him to stop being selfish, and he'd got used to it. He smiled as he remembered the howler she'd sent him the summer following Sirius's death, only to be greeted by her warm embrace the minute he'd set foot in Grimmauld Place. In a way, in every way, her pulling him back into reality was far better than Ron's awkward sympathy, and Hermione's analyzing. Yes. Ginny brought him through all the crap in his life, by understanding and yet chiding, gently telling off and opening her mind.

"What?"

Ginny tugged gently on a lock of Harry's hair, startling him out of his musings. He smiled at her.

"Nothing. Just thinking about what an insensitive cow you are."

She flashed him a smile.

"Well, if I'm honest, Harrykins, I think you're a prat."

She paused.

"But really quite a nice one."

In response to the review about Ginny speaking Parseltongue, she wasn't aware of herself when that happened. She didn't remeber anything she did, so why would she remember Parseltongue?