Harry gazed at the lush green fields, still bewildered at his luck. He must have had been travelling for a few months now, hoping that the reports were accurate and he wouldn't need to double back and explore the south-east road to the Peaky Mountains.

"So..." he wheezed out. "She should be around here. I just need to enter the Spooky Forest." He didn't want to take out the map again. It was misleading, he had decided when he ignored Hermione's clear instructions and landed in the Boiling Pits.

Harry shuddered. No use recalling that instance. He was grateful that the nearby townsfolk had been kind enough to take care of his intensive burns.

He focused on the entrance to the forest. The air was still and malevolent, an evil permeated inside the very being of every source of life inside and surrounding the forest. Harry wasn't a coward by nature, he wouldn't have come on this precarious quest if he was, but facing the gloomy, dark foliage of the Spooky Forest, he felt a moment of doubt.

"She better be worth it. Otherwise, I'm throwing Ron off the cliff." He gestured to the nearby mountain. "From that one."

Harry was not confident in the Magician's powers. How could a single person provide protection to thousands? But he had seen what the enemy is capable of doing. There was no other option.

He never had much patience for magic and always scoffed at those who believed. But Ron had been insistent. And he trusted the King.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered and drew his sword. He stepped on the path leading inside the forest, wary of any danger that might befall him at any instance. He didn't know whether it was his hallucination or not, but it seemed as if the trees parted before him. The atmosphere was still unwelcoming, yet he sensed a thrill of anticipation.

Was it his imagination?

He held out his sword in a defensive stance and treaded onwards. He heard a rustling behind him and felt the opening close up. No escape was possible.

He didn't lose his nerve. He continued walking, his ears straining to hear the slightest sound indicating grave danger. His mentor had taught him how to slip in and out without making any sound and by the time he was fifteen, he had mastered it.

All of which proved to be useless when he heard someone say, "Bugger" and conk him in the head.

He sank to his knees. Through his blurry vision, he saw a woman peering at him. Before he could say anything, he succumbed to darkness.

Harry groaned. His head was pounding and his limbs refused to cooperate. He held his breath, focusing on opening his eyes. He succeeded. His vision was blurry, but that wasn't anything new. The teardrops for clear vision must have dried out and his spectacles were in his carry on. He lifted his hand to rub his eyes. A sense of panic was rising in him, obstructed by a desperate want of water and some tonic to reduce his headache.

He sat up when he heard someone clear their throat.

Immediately, he was on guard. "Who is that? By the power vested in me, I shall deliver punishment upon you if you refuse to comply!" His hands touched the soft mattress on which he was laid. No sign of his sword anywhere.

The person sighed.

"Calm your tits." Judging by her voice, she was a young, crass woman. And fed up as if he had been torturing her by simply laying unconscious. "I'm going to hand over your glasses and your sword. Bugger yourself with them if you want to."

He scoured for anything familiar when he felt the glass of his spectacles. He put them on and immediately, spotted his sword leaning beside the small bedside table filled with trinkets. He glanced around the room when he met the hypnotizing eyes of the most alluring woman he had ever laid his eyes upon.

"You're Ginny? King Ron's sister?" He blurted out without preamble. He had never seen any hair as bewitching as hers. Red as bright as those of the flames roaring in the fireplace beside which she was sitting. She was dressed in a deep blue dress and black boots, not at all how Magicians usually dress.

Harry wondered whether the thrilling sensation in the air was just her powerful aura or the magnificent staff laid out on her lap.

"The tosser sent you? Ron must be having all the fun now. Making others do errands for him." She smirked, "Or were you just interested in seeing the Wicked Witch of the West?"

He stammered. "No - no, m'lady. I didn't - I mean, uh, King Ron did send me, but... He's -"

She cut him off, "Sorry for knocking you out. At least, I hope your disorientation is because of the hit that you took. If not, then I apologize for not considering speech impairment issues."

"No," he reassured her. "M'lady -"

"- Ginny. M'lady sounds so pretentious. I'm not a lady."

"Ginny, I assure you. King Ron -"

"Call him Ron. Don't inflate his already large head. One day, he will fly off to the Beyond if you keep on pouring praises down his ears. Take him down a peg or two."

"I won't be able to tell you anything if you keep on interrupting me."

"Pfft," she scoffed, "this is sexism at it's finest. Fine, I will keep quiet. But tell me the reason why my big brother no longer pays me a visit and even our mirror calls have declined to once a month. And that's when I'm lucky. Prat."

Ginny folded her arms across her chest and stared him down. Harry was ashamed to say that her steely gaze made his heart flutter.

"Ron and I are friends." He decided that speaking candidly with Ginny was the way to quickly make her understand the gravity of the situation. "We have been for some time. I'm Harry," he hurried when he saw her eyes widen with recognition, "we went to the Academy together. He entrusted me with the identity of the Magician. And I took it in my own hands to come to you when the realm is on the brink of war. A war which we might not win."

She spoke, her voice laced in concern, "Is my brother okay?"

"Physically, he's all right. But his mind is burdened. If the enemy wins, thousands of people will perish. You are our last hope of defence."

"Why didn't he tell me?" She muttered thoughtfully. Harry was thankful that he knew the answer.

"Because the enemy has a Magician of his own. He is the Magician. He has been interfering with the magical energy of the surrounding places and your connection to Ron will remain in danger unless he is stopped in some way or the other."

Ginny stood up. She pointed her staff at the doorway and closed her eyes. A bundle of clothes flew into the room and on his lap. He was surprised to see that those weren't his. He glanced at his chest, heat flooding his cheeks when he realized his current attire was a simple cotton nightgown.

As if reading his thoughts, Ginny chuckled.

"Don't worry. Those clothes were dirty so I had to pry them off of you. These ones will fit you perfectly."

"Did you..." he gestured, hoping that he didn't need to spell it out to her.

"King Potter, are you accusing me of not caring about your privacy and taking a peek at your naked bum?" She gasped, her innocent expression making her look guilty.

"Yes," he said tersely, his hands tightening around the garment.

"Well, I didn't. But come along now. Tell me everything. If you spare any detail, I will be forced to drive you mad and leave you to wander around in the forest. Pity if you share the fate of the others." She walked towards the door.

"You haven't done that to anyone, right? Ginny?" Harry laughed nervously, his insides clenching in fear and anticipation.

Ginny winked and twirled her staff before heading out.