Thank you everyone who reviewed (3 after the fifth chapter)! I don't wanna sound ungrateful or anything, but if you like the story and want me t continue it, please review! And if you don't like it and want me to delete it, than review too, I don't know without you telling me.
So, for you who are interested:

Chapter 6: Ginny

Harry finally felt fit to abandon the toilet about fifteen minutes later. The sour taste in his mouth was washed up by comfortably cool water, though his freshly empty stomach still spurned every thought of food.

He had washed his face and cast a weak Peppermint Charm on himself - he didn't feel like explaining to Mrs Weasley that her delicious meal was wasted. He opened the door and was about to step into the dark, candle-lit corridor when he froze.

Back to him, a black-clad wizard with all too familiar greasy black hair stalked in the direction of the hall. For a split second the universe froze for Harry and he gaped, wide-eyed, at what he thought to be a creation of his imagination. It had to be. No one in their right mind would let... would let Snape into Grimmauld Place.

'That excuse for a wizard is a killer! A filthy stinking murderer!' He blinked, but the mirage didn't vanish. He was there. Real. Material. And altogether too alive.

Harry felt like screaming, but first the shock and then his brain restrained him. Slowly, careful not to cause any noise, he reached for his wand. He retrieved it, and precisely aimed, taking a second to make sure he would hit on the first try. He wasn't as stupid as to believe he would get another chance, after knowing the duelling skills the Death Eater presented last time they met.

He had to lean forwards, clinging to the door-frame, but his hand was steady. His head was devoid of any emotion; all he knew was that the man in front of him deserved to die. And he - Harry - was going to make it happen. He opened his mouth to speak the incantation.

"Silencio." It was a whisper, lighter than breeze, and it came from about two feet from him. Harry didn't have time to shield himself or to dodge; he was hit square in the chest. A small but sturdy invisible hand pushed him back into the bathroom and held him there. He wanted to fight at first, but then realised that whoever was there with him didn't intend to harm him.

All they intended was to stop him from harming Snape and, apparently, they succeeded, for the next moment the noise from the street penetrated the house, closely followed by the front-door being slammed shut.

"Sonorus," whispered the same voice as before, though this time distinctly feminine. Something threw itself on Harry and the next moment he held an armful of a small red-haired witch sobbing into his chest.

"Ginny!" he said dumb-struck. She sobbed harder. "Ginny - Gin, where- what's wrong?" He closed his arms around her and just held her. She was quivering, grasping his T-shirt spasmodically and wetting it with tears. He couldn't guess what was going on, just that she was crying - Ginny, the strongest girl he had ever met, the fierce, never giving up to despair and always prepared to face whatever the fate might stand in her way was crying. It was breaking his heart yet again, over and over with each desperate sob.

And then it hit him.

'Snape! That bastard, that cursed ulcer had hurt Ginny!' Harry's face contorted with anger. His eyes blazed and he subconsciously squeezed the girl harder. She choked and stared up at him, eyes red, face streaked with tears and whispered.

"Harry..." Her eyes widened with fear; her sobs instantly ceased. Then, to his shock, she reached out and touched his face.

"I- I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you angry- I know we-" Harry's hatred for Snape reached all-time high. The bastard dared to harm Ginny and then caused her to think he was angry with her?

He closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and opened them again. His voice was calm when he spoke, his face impassive.

"No. You have nothing to apologise for. That bastard should be sorry, but it won't help him the next time I meet him-" Ginny choked again, gaping at him. He had to forced himself to not lean forwards and kiss her... It hurt worse than he would ever have imagined. But it was his decision.

"You know?" she asked quietly, a silent, resigned tear trickling down her pale face.

"Know what?"

"That Snape-" She hushed, as though forgetting what she wanted to say. She rested her head against his shoulder.

"He hurt you," Harry stated frostily, but trying to keep the rage from his voice. She looked up sharply, brown eyes flaring.

"No way!" Harry's mouth fell open. Of course Snape hurt her! Why else would she cry? Why would she deny it?

"Snape hurt you," he repeated, attempting to persuade her to admit it. She let go of him, wiped her face into her sleeve and glared at him.

"No, he didn't and I won't repeat it. I suppose that it would be me, who knows best that he didn't."

"Then what?" It might have been personal, but she had come to him for comfort. She wouldn't have if she minded him knowing.

"I just heard... Heard something really sad. I'm sorry, Harry... I'm sorry I wasn't there for the surprise and-" She reached into her pocked and recovered a small angular package wrapped in dark blue paper. "-that I couldn't give this to you sooner. I sort of didn't want to flaunt it, anyway..." She pressed it into his hand.

Harry eyed it, taken aback by her sudden change of mood, and proceeded to unwrap it. Inside was a simple dark blue plastic box. As though he didn't know what to do with it, Ginny took it from his hands and opened it. Inside was a short coppery chain.

"It's supposed to sort of watch over you," she explained, doing it up around his wrist. Harry wangled his hand, examining the tags hanging from it in the faint light of the bathroom.

"The anchor reminds you that you have a place to come back to. Home. The heart symbolises people who love you and that you'll never be alone." Harry stared at it. That was so much like Ginny. He ditched her, and she would give him an object that should protect him, or rather, help him stay strong.

There was one more tag.

"Ginny? What about the cross? It's not for the God, is it?" She shook her head.

"That could be a Muggle interpretation. It's for the Light... Harry, no matter what happens out there, promise me that you'll never turn dark. Please..."

"Ginny..." he gasped. How could she think something like that of him? He hated Voldemort and Snape and all the Death Eaters, it was what made him himself. It was an essential part of him. But the way she was looking at him...

"I promise." She sighed with relief.

"I know you never would. I just... I guess I needed to hear it from you." They stood in silence. Harry knew they should probably get out of there, but he felt reluctant to.

"So, where have you been all the time, Ginny?"

"I- I was- Promise me you won't tell anyone, Harry." The sadness returned to her face. Before he realised what he was doing, he hugged her.

"Come on, would I?" She smirked wryly.

"Well, Fred and George taught me these few clever tricks I definitely shouldn't know and I kinda wanted to try it out... I roamed the house and then I came across Snape... I didn't know what to do at first. After what you said... You know, I wanted to hex him, but until I came to myself he already was inside a room so I- I went there and, well, eavesdropped a bit..."

"Eavesdropped?" asked Harry, taken aback.

'Snape, the traitor, walks in the centre of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix of all places, lets an underage witch follow him around despite his Legilimency, and then has a nice loud monologue in an empty room-'

"I know I shouldn't have, but I heard Dumbledore say-"

"Dumbledore?" Harry yelled. Ginny gave him a reproachful glance.

"Sorry- Dumbledore?" he asked quietly. She thoughtfully nodded.

"Yeah. They had a long talk about Voldemort and Death Eaters, Snape named a lot of foreign people, but I don't remember the names..." Harry tried to convince himself that this wasn't happening. For one blissful moment he believed that it all was only a hoax, that somebody only looked like Snape - maybe Tonks, or somebody Polyjuiced as him... But then it all came tumbling down.

"They talked about you."

"Me!"

"Harry, please, try to remain quiet - yes, you... Dumbledore said you were a Metamorphmagus, is it true?"

He nodded. He wondered why didn't everyone already know it - was it possible that the Daily Prophet hadn't published it the day he had found out?

"So that's how."

"How what?" Harry asked, more harshly than he intended to.

"When I came here you looked different..."

"How different?" Did he change without wanting to? But how? It always took him an effort to will his features to morph... Could it be because he was angry?

"Dunno- different. For a while you looked taller... and your hair is kind of not messy and you had that- that-"

"What?"

"That expression," Ginny said quietly. Harry would have punched himself - he had been so angry that he scared her.

"I'm sorry. Do I look normal now?" She smirked bitterly.

"What do you look like normally? I haven't seen you in a month, Harry - there's a mirror behind you."

He turned around. He looked quite like himself, but his hair was longer and straight, though fortunately he didn't bleach it. He could have given her a greater scare if she had found him red-haired.

"I'm loosing control over this... I should get a grip..." he mumbled while Ginny watched him, mesmerised, as he returned himself to his original shape.

"Wicked!" she meant.

"Thanks. Oh, listen, now that I look presentable we should probably get out of here..." Ginny nodded and lead him out of the room. Harry was immensely grateful that the corridor was vacant - he didn't know how would he react if anybody had seen him and Ginny together leaving a bathroom.

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Harry followed her upstairs to a room he knew to be hers and Hermione's. She halted in front of the door and knocked in a complex pattern. He watched her with raised eyebrows.

'She's knocking before entering her own bedroom?'

"Not now!" sounded a shriek, muffled by the thick wood. Ginny frowned.

"Hermione, just dress yourself and send him to unlock to door! You have ten seconds before I blast them! Ten... nine... eight..." Harry fought hard to suppress laugh. There was a loud squeal in the room, followed by bustle of clothes. Ginny reached three and raised her wand.

"Two... one..." A very red and slightly out-of-breath Ron opened the door.

"Right on time. Come in, Harry." She ushered him inside past her brother who tried to look annoyed, but managed only a feeble glower. Hermione was sitting on the bed, leaning back against the wall and watched the scene with a mixture of irritation and excitement. Ginny obviously wouldn't have disturbed if something important didn't happen.

"Make yourself comfortable, Harry, this might turn out to be a long talk."

He sat on the floor, cross-legged, resting his back against Ginny's bed. Ron, still feigning umbrage, closed the door and returned to keep his girlfriend company, pulling her over to sit on his lap. Ginny rolled her eyes and put up a heavy Silencing Charm. The moment she sank on her bed, somewhere behind Harry, the atmosphere in the room rapidly changed.

"Where were you, Ginny?" Hermione asked harshly. "I thought you agreed to-"

"I did... He didn't tell you?" Hermione shook her head. "Ronald Weasley!" Ron tried to defend.

"I didn't get a chance! Fred and George were watching me all the time; I think they suspect something..."

"Of course they do! They always suspect something. But they didn't follow you here, did they? Men... No offence meant, Harry."

"None taken-"

"I followed Snape around."

"Snape?" Hermione yelled.

"Middle-aged, tall, hooked nose, greasy hair, git... you remember him now? Yeah. Snape."

"But- But- What was he doing here!"

"He was reporting to Dumbledore," Harry said quietly. He felt three stares at him, though he kept gazing at his hands. They were pale. Paler than they were supposed to be.

He didn't want to admit it, but he would have to be either a total moron or completely blind to not see it. Snape killed Dumbledore, but the ghost of his victim welcomed him back. The ex-Headmaster still trusted Snape, trusted him as he did before, unconditionally, with certainty, no matter what people around him were thinking and telling him.

Despite the popular belief, Harry was not stupid. He could put two and two together. He knew Dumbledore tried to prepare him for it, what with the -"I had to choose between two people, lest both of them would die. One death was avoidable. I decided for the more important person to live. Do you think you can understand that?"- talk.

He felt his insides go cold. So Dumbledore considered Snape more important than himself? Was his continued spying on Voldemort - if he did really spy on Voldemort - worth the loss of the greatest wizard, the only one Riddle feared?

'But did we really lose the one Riddle fears?' nagged a voice in Harry's head.

'Fawkes?' he asked.

'Yes, or yes, depends on what have you asked. You have slightly disappointed me, young man, though as you have also pleased me today, I will restrain from embarrassing you in front of your friends.' Harry sighed. He was up to a long night... and he had to do warm-up in the morning. Sleep-deprived.

'You let Snape kill Dumbledore? Just because he wasn't so important anymore to you?' The Headmaster had been important to Harry. But apparently, such detail had no significance in the phoenix's schemes-

'Of course not; it was Albus's decision. I do not expect you to see the whole scope instantly, though I must admit you have pleasantly surprised me by how much you have deduced yourself.'

'Could you please leave me for a while?' Harry asked, balancing between many contradictory emotions.

'Of course. I'll be in the library with Albus if you needed me.'

Harry looked up. They were still staring at him, shocked mute. He turned around to look at Ginny.

"Have I again..." She nodded and passed him a mirror from her bedside. It was not so bad. He was pale and his cheekbones stuck out a bit - that didn't happen to him before, but was easily mended. By the looks of his friends' faces he knew they hadn't been told, either.

"I'm a-"

"Metamorphmagus," cut in Hermione. "Yes, I can see that." She was gazing at him in awe. He was grateful neither of them reproached about the fact that he kept it secret.

"Don't tell anyone, please. I think Dumbledore doesn't want to broaden it-"

"Well, of course he doesn't," Hermione said sharply.

"What do you mean?" inquired Harry.

"You have enough attention as it is. Haven't you been reading the Prophet?" He shook his head. "Just the Ministry used the fact that neither you nor Dumbledore can speak up against them, and they keep inventing interviews with you. It's nasty, sometimes. To put it simply, they made the poster-boy of you whether you agree or not-" Harry scowled.

'Scrimegour is asking for a fierce retribution... I'll ask Fawkes... Later.'

"Dumbledore doesn't speak up against them?" he asked when the meaning of what Hermione had said hit him. She shrugged.

"He can't. As it is now, nobody but the members of the Order knows about him and he wishes to keep it so. You can tell that the Minister wouldn't hesitate before confining him to some dark secluded place." That made sense. From what he understood the ghost had been sort of a spy himself, now that he could get pretty much anywhere he wanted to. If he was to be strapped somewhere like Moaning Myrtle they would lose him again.

"And to you being a Metamorphmagus;" spoke Ginny, "The Ministry is registering all wizards with special skills now. You should be careful in the public because if they find out..." Harry smirked bitterly.

"I'll be in trouble."

Ron gasped, as he finally caught on.

"You should learn to control it as soon as possible," Hermione said fearfully. She had a very good idea what might have been his sentence if the Ministry got wind that he deliberately ignored their decree.

"Or," Ron said quietly, darkly. All gazes turned to him. "One more reason to do it, Mione."

Harry wanted to ask what the Hell was he talking about, but Hermione was faster.

"You're right. We'll do it."

"Do what?" asked Harry. He was obviously the only one there who had no idea what was going on, as it was Ginny, who answered.

"My brother and his girlfriend had thought up a clever plan about how to get around Dumbledore."

"We will go to Godric Hollow with you as we promised, Harry," assured him Hermione.

"Yeah, mate, and we'll go track down You Know Who..."

"The entire surprise-party was only a reason for you to come here, so we can lift off in the middle of the night. Nobody needs to know until the breakfast, and that won't be before ten..."

"Right, we'll have a head-start; not even Dumbledore will be able to track us down..." added Ron, completely disregarding that Dumbledore wasn't able to do any magic in his current state.

Harry for a while looked at them incredulously and then laughed. During all the training and 'brainwashing' - as he called it in the privacy of his mind - he had undergone since five weeks ago he had not thought about the resolution once.

'We might be able to get around Dumbledore, but we can never dodge Fawkes.' Anyway, he was grateful they had made such effort, for him. Hermione's gift now made sense as well. 'That's Mione - always practical.'

"Thanks, guys, but no." The only response he received was a dumb-struck, disbelieving silence. "I meant what I told you in June. I want you three to return to Hogwarts. I need to know that you are safe."

"But, Harry-"

"No, Mione. Please, listen to me. Whatever happens until September, and I have no idea what might, you must return to school."

She freed herself from Ron and climbed off the bed, kneeling in front of him.

"But where will you-"

He shook his head.

"I don't know. Don't count of me. Don't change any of your plans because of me." He had no idea what plans had Fawkes in store for him. All he knew was that the phoenix had lead wars against tens of Dark Lords and always won, and thus it was reasonable to listen to it. He tried. And he promised himself to keep trying as long as he was able to remain in one room with it an not blow things up.

"But we are your friends," objected Ron. Harry looked up at him, smiling sadly.

"I know. And it means the world to me."

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The goodbye later that night was tensed. Neither of them said anything about Harry's refusal anymore, but the only one of them who seemed to agree with him was Ginny. And even about that he wasn't sure.

Mr Weasley watched him closely as he packed his presents into the back-pack he got from Hermione, probably making sure that Harry wouldn't do precisely what his friend tried to talk him into doing. As though it wasn't enough that he would have Fawkes on his neck the moment he tried anything.

Receiving another series of hand-shakes, hugs and kisses Harry left the company and walked into the Black Library, enormous luggage on his left shoulder weighing virtually nothing. He was nearing his destination, when he felt presence close behind himself. Someone was hiding in the shadows.

He cracked his fingers and a single flame sprung to life, illuminating Ginny's face.

"I should have known," he muttered, hardly loud enough for her to hear.

"I wanted to see you one more time."

Harry looked at her; he didn't need Legilimency to know what she thought.

"I don't know if I will be going anywhere anytime soon."

"Precisely," she said quietly and walked up to him. "If you do, think about me now and then, would you?"

She hugged him. Harry smiled.

"You know I will."

'I'll always will,' he thought, but didn't say it aloud. That was a promise he couldn't make to her. Living with a phoenix had taught him about evanescence. Especially in war.

"I love you," she whispered and ran away before he could respond.

'I love you too.'

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If Fawkes watched the conversation (Harry was quite sure he did) he didn't show it, and for that Harry was grateful. Neither did he say anything about the prepared escape and the refusal.

He told Harry to catch on his wing and Apparated them both into McGonagall's office. Though tired, he neither missed the opened bottle of Firewhisky on her desk, nor the glass with Everlasting Ice Pyramids next to it. The Headmistress's day had gone wrong.

Without mentioning anything that had happened, Fawkes sent him to bed.

Harry changed into his pyjamas and threw his clothes over the back of a chair, putting the charring off until tomorrow. Something small fell out of his pocket. He took it up from the floor and drew his illuminated wand-tip closer to examine it.

It was the Survivor's Book; he laid it on the table and went to sleep. It was the first night after a long time, when his nightmares returned.

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A\N: Be nice and review… Please?
Brynn