Ginny insisted that she should go speak to Hermione and see if her research had yielded anything. Harry almost asked to go with her, because it affected them both and he had hardly spoken to Hermione at all today outside of the near argument that morning. He stopped himself when he realized that maybe she wanted to speak to the older girl alone. After all, he had been practically forcing his company on her since they woke up.

The twins having headed back to the shop already, Ron was alone when he found him. To his surprise and relief, Ron didn't immediately launch into discussion about his predicament with Ginny. They did, however, talk about Percy and if he could be trusted.

Ron gaped at Harry's opinion. "You really think he can be trusted? That all should be forgiven," he snapped his fingers, "just like that?"

Harry considered it from Ron's point of view before answering. "Yes," he said firmly, to Ron's disbelief. "I do." he insisted. "He insulted me, not you, and your dad too, but I think your father is willing to forgive him if it means he comes back to the family, so you should as well. You're really lucky to have the family you have, mate. If Percy has finally realized that, then you shouldn't let anything get in the way." Ron's disbelief had faded into something more pensive, so he added quietly, "You never know what could happen with the war on."

Ron's eyes flashed to his in understanding before he quickly looked away and nodded. "I know that. I do - it's just that he's always acted like we weren't good enough for him. I've always wished I could've had more growing up than I did, but I never wanted to be anything other than a Weasley either."

"You have a good family," Harry said sincerely.

Ron's expression shifted into concern and sadness. His face pinched as he rubbed his chest. Without looking at Harry, he said, "I honestly can't imagine doing what she is." He quickly looked up at Harry and clarified, "Not in a bad way, mind you. I wasn't thinking earlier, with what I said. I know she's doing the right thing, just… it's going to hurt."

"You know she doesn't want to hurt anyone. If anything-"

"That's not what I meant, Harry," Ron cut him off, rubbing at his chest a bit more. "Severing that connection, it will hurt - physically hurt. When…" he swallowed convulsively, clearly struggling to get the words out, and Harry felt the familiar cold of anxiety rushing in his veins. "Ginny's first year, when she was in the Chamber, I could feel it as her connection was dying, and it hurt, right here," he said, pointing at the spot he had been rubbing, as if it was now that he was feeling that pain, instead of just the memory. Harry felt a sick churning in his stomach. Ron was this distraught about the pain of nearly losing her, remembered over three years later, and Ginny was about to feel the loss of six brothers and her father. At best her connection to her mother would be cut to half of what it was too. Unbidden, the memory of how painful being held under the Cruciatus Curse was rose in his mind and he flinched away from it, turning his attention back to Ron.

His friend looked at him beseechingly, begging for understanding. "When I suddenly felt her slip away to almost nothing, I finally focused and realized that I had hardly felt her at all in a long time… the decrease had just been so subtle that… I just hadn't noticed," he said helplessly. "None of us did." Harry had never seen Ron looking so desolate. Even when Ginny was in the Chamber, there was the manic desperation of their mission that kept him from sinking into this level anguish. He continued, "She didn't even come rushing back when she woke up. She was that weak- so weak that it took a day or two. I could actually feel it as she came back, and I knew that we all fucked up badly if she was that far gone and no one noticed."

"I know," Harry sighed. He felt like he should have seen it too. He had seen how pale she was, how tired she looked, but he knew there was no point in thinking this way. "We were all just kids, Ron."

"Were we?" Ron challenged. "Fred and George were only a year younger than we are now, and Percy was even older than us. Mum and Dad should've noticed - or Bill or Charlie or anyone!" Ron tossed himself back onto his bed, throwing his hands up in frustration, before calming and shaking his head. "It just shouldn't have happened to her, you know?"

"Yeah, I do." Harry agreed. "But it's in the past. All we can do is move forward and try to be better," he added, thinking of all the ways he was trying to do just that.

Ron nodded his agreement and sat back upright on his bed. "I know I asked earlier, but do you think Ginny is alright? I mean, it's just huge and… is she going to be alright?"

He had to think about how to answer. He was slowly beginning to realize that the more Ginny shared with him, the more her secrets colored his opinions and the less he could share his thoughts unfiltered with his friends without violating her trust. It was a new phenomenon and would take some getting used to. Finally, he decided to avoid the question.

"Ginny's holding up. She's actually talking to Hermione right now, to see if she made any headway on researching the betrothal rite, so we can get a better idea of what to expect."

Ron popped up and gestured to the door. "What are we doing pissing around here then? Don't you want to know too? Come on."

Harry willingly followed, glad Ron had suggested it so that he now had an excuse to do what he had wanted to all along. Ron was knocking on the girls door a minute later, much to Hermione's surprise.

"Ron? Harry?" She stood with the door only half-open, making no move to let them in, and looked between them. "What's happened? You've never once come here before-"

"And you've never knocked on my door, Ronald. Just barge right in all the time like you own the place!" Ginny called from behind the door in false outrage. Harry could picture her eyes twinkling with mischief as she said it, knowing it would rile her brother. She continued, "I'm sure everything is fine, Hermione. Let them in, would you?"

Hermione finally moved aside, still staring at Ron and Harry in question. Luckily, Ron answered Ginny's needling. "Yeah, well this isn't just my little sister's room, now is it? Can't just barge in on Hermione like that."

Harry's eyes immediately sought Ginny's when he entered. He found her sitting on what he assumed was her bed on the left side of the room, her expression resembling that of the twins more closely than he had even seen it. "Of course not, brother. Can't risk walking in on Hermione changing, but your sister-"

"Oh stuff it, Ginny. You're careful about it after growing up with all of us. Hermione isn't used to that many people being around."

Ginny nodded and hummed her agreement."That's true." She looked to Hermione and said, "We had to be careful at the Burrow- never knew when Fred and George were going to barge in with a camera or something." Turning back to her brother she asked innocently, "Isn't that right, Ron?"

From his standpoint slightly behind Ron, Harry saw just a hint of the blush that spread across Ron's cheek before his friend moved across the room to look out the dark window. The reddened tips of his ears were still visible, however. To Harry, the amusement at Ron's reaction was practically shining out Ginny as she stared at her brother, and Harry gave her an amused look. When she met his eyes, her lips twitched, causing his to do the same, and making it near impossible to hold back the laughter.

While Ron's back was still turned, a slightly pink Hermione shoved Ginny in disapproval, knocking the younger girl sideways. He bit the inside of his cheek harder to prevent himself from cracking at the way Ginny stuck out her tongue at Hermione. After such a long day, it was nice to have this normal teenage moment with all of them as friends.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ginny for a moment, receiving an eye-roll in turn, before the very sides of her mouth quirked. She covered it up quickly by addressing Harry, "So, you never did say what you came for."

Ginny perked up too. As Harry looked at her, he noticed the bags he had seen under her eyes in the study were no longer present. He didn't know how that was possible, but he hadn't noticed them earlier either, so maybe it was just the light in the study. He assessed her again, looking for signs of artifice, wondering how much of her current exuberance was real. His first observation was that she was genuinely amused by teasing her brother, but beyond that, he was looking for signs of stress. Overall, he was pleased to note that she seemed mostly relaxed, aside from the exhaustion.

Apparently her amusement was enough to keep her going, because she said jokingly, "Oh. Yes, gentlemen, please do tell what brings you to our dreary little corner of the house."

Harry laughed, liking the easiness to her and the way she fit right into the group. Had it just been the three of them as usual, they'd be knee deep in the conversation already, but this was much more enjoyable.

"You nailed it, Gin," he replied as he plopped himself down beside where she was lounging on her bed, happily leaning back onto the floral scented pillows. He took an exaggerated look around the room. It was truly not all that different from the rest of the dark, depressing house, but there seemed to be an extra chill in the air. Ginny was even wearing a worn jumper that she hadn't been earlier. Still he joked back, "We're just here for the scenery." His eyes roamed over her figure without his consent, starting with her luminous hair and following the tresses down to where they trailed over the worn fabric that was stretched by the curves of her breasts - the hardening in his trousers reminded him that he was not alone with her and he quickly redirected his thoughts, making another joke. "Where else could I see quality stolen clothing like this?" He asked, pinching the F stitched on her jumper that clearly indicated it had once belonged to Fred.

Ginny chuckled and smacked his hand away. With an eye-roll she said, "Uh-huh. Sure. Makes total sense."

Harry didn't mention that it did in fact make sense. He was still convinced she was the living embodiment of a patronus - she was here and that made it brighter and warmer somehow despite the grimness of the setting. Instead of voicing these thoughts, he shrugged and turned his attention back to Hermione, who was now looking between Harry and Ginny somewhat dumbfounded.

Ron let out a slow, "Right, so…" he paused and shook his head, directing his words to Hermione while peeking at Harry and Ginny out of the corner of his eye. "Anyway, Harry said you and Ginny were talking about the research you did today. I thought we could join in, find out if you found anything."

"Not much, honestly. But we didn't get to that yet. Ginny was just telling me about magical lines and how the magic is passed down. And the way certain lines have developed certain talents! It's fascinating. I can't believe never read anything about it before."

"It's just a theory, Hermione. Nothing has been confirmed," Ginny said patiently, as if she had repeated this many times already.

"I know. It's just there's so much I didn't know," she said in a strange mix of disappointment and wonder. Harry could sympathize, as it was just as surprising to him. "We were just talking about some of the family traits."

"Which ones have you gotten through?" Ron asked.

"Your family, with the charms. I remember being so impressed that you had just barely mastered Wingardium Leviosa enough to lift a feather, but then you were able to lift the troll's club! In that kind of situation though, with your life at risk and your family's magical affinity for charms, it makes so much sense."

Ron straightened, puffing up a bit. "Well, I couldn't let anything happen to you, could I?" His posturing quickly faded as his expression morphed into one of regret. More subdued, he added, "Especially since it was my fault you were there, anyway. Me and my fat mouth." He smiled sheepishly, "In a way though, I'm glad it happened, because we've all been friends ever since. Couldn't ask for better, honestly."

Hermione blushed and looked down, taking a moment before looking back up. Harry thought her eyes might have been glassy when she answered, "It hurt, but you made up for it by saving me. I- thank you, for that."

Harry was surprised by the turn in conversation. Ron and Hermione could be rather awkward and bump heads, but here Ron was admitting to his mistakes and apologizing. For some reason, Harry had the undeniable urge to look away from them, feeling uncomfortable witnessing the uncharacteristic display. His gaze landed on Ginny, whose eyes were widened comically, though she looked pleased as well.

"Right!" Ron suddenly said, rather louder than necessary. "Weasley's have charms. It's helped both Bill and Charlie. Bill's detection charms are the best out of anyone Gringotts employs right now from what I've heard, and Charlie said it's really helpful in calming the dragons," he rambled. Harry assumed he wanted to draw attention from the moment he and Hermione had shared. It was rather unnecessary, Harry thought, as he had no intention of talking about it and it seemed to be a line Ginny wasn't inclined to cross.

"Yes, Ginny mentioned that," Hermione agreed quickly. "We also talked about the Prewitts, Lestranges, Malfoys, and Rosiers."

"And the Lovegoods," Ginny added, with a pointed look. Hermione rolled her eyes. Ginny continued sternly, "You really shouldn't dismiss Luna so quickly, Hermione. I'm telling you, they have an affinity for magical creatures. The strangest things find them and are docile for Luna and her father in a way that I've never seen before."

Hermione pursed her lips, but didn't argue. Harry, who hadn't thought until now to ask, decided to break the stand-off with the question that had been subconsciously burning in him. "What did the Potters have?" The question was too earnest and he felt his cheeks begin to heat. He looked down, avoiding their gazes as everyone paused.

It was Ginny who spoke up. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said, her eyes were soft and her tone sincere. "I really don't know. Mr. Lupin might though. He should be around tomorrow. We'll ask."

"Oh," Harry let out in disappointment. "Yeah. I can ask Moony."

He hadn't been thinking about it too hard, because he didn't want to face the disappointment of knowing there was yet another thing he didn't know about his past that normal people did. It seemed like the information was pretty well-known though, based on the families they were discussing, so he thought there was a chance.

"You have to understand, mate," Ron explained, "that most families keep these things to themselves. They're long-guarded family secrets. It's an old tradition, from when there was a lot of feuding between magical families, so it was kind of like a secret weapon."

Hermione scoffed. "Secret weapon? Really?"

Ron shrugged. "I didn't say it made sense, just that they did it. It's easier for your enemy to plan around your defenses if they know your strengths, because your go-to defense tactic is usually whatever you're best at."

"I understand that," Hermione replied in exasperation. "It's just 'secret weapon' makes it sound so juvenile."

"If it's such closely guarded information, how do you know about those families?" Harry cut in, not caring for whatever argument his friends may be able to have. "I would've thought they'd keep their secrets."

Ginny answered simply, "Because they're all related to or close to the Black family, so Sirius knew about them."

"Which means you know about them," he added he added shortly.

Ginny gave him a searching look as she said, "Yes. We talked about a lot of things."

He nodded, looking away from her to the wall above Hermione's bed, losing himself to his thoughts as Ron and Hermione continued discussing the known magical gifts of various families. He wasn't really interested in any of it at present, distracted by thoughts of Ginny's relationship with Sirius. Despite having gotten an inkling of it over the Christmas holiday, he was still slightly awed and jealous at how close the two were without anyone's knowledge. Most strange was that he found he was strangely jealous of both of them.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Ginny sat up straight and interrupted Ron and Hermione's conversation. "It's getting a bit late," she said casually, but there was something forced about her that rubbed Harry wrong. She was looking at Hermione though, which put her angled slightly away from him and blocked most of her face from view. She continued speaking only to Hermione, "I wanted to hit the shower before bed and since Ron can fill you in on anything I missed about family magic, do you mind sharing what you found today on the betrothal?"

There were so many things wrong with that statement that Harry wanted to do a double-take, but he just barely managed to control himself. He knew she wouldn't appreciate being called on the about-face in her attitude. For one, she had seemed content enough to casually hang out with him - them - until just now. Secondly, she had showered less than twelve hours ago, but now she was fingering her hair again as if there was something wrong with it. Even without him mentioning it, he saw his friends' reactions too; the same confusion he felt displayed briefly on Hermione's face and Ron's expression clearly showed concern, despite the fact that he tried to hide it. Ginny must have noticed too, because she straightened herself and looked at Hermione expectantly. Her hands were tucked into her sleeves, however, and Harry had no doubt that she had started bothering her nails again.

Damn it, Harry thought to himself. She was putting her wall back up, and he realized now that it was probably his fault. They had been having such a good time, but he had turned all broody again. She probably thinks it's her fault, you arse, he scolded himself. Can you not fuck it up, just once? Still, he couldn't think of anything he could say to make it better at this point.

Thankfully, Hermione quickly answered, "Of course. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get carried away. You woke up so early this morning. I know you must be exhausted," Hermione rushed out. Harry looked away to hide the knowledge that Ginny had slept quite late, just not in her own bed. "Anyway, I wasn't able to find anything on the betrothal itself." Harry found himself disappointed, but Ginny seemed to have expected as much and nodded. "But I did have the names of some of those who had been bound by them and I was able to look them up on the family tree and extrapolate some information." Hermione paused, looking uncomfortable, and Harry could only assume that whatever theory she had come up with was unpleasant. "But I'm not sure," she added. "There's nothing definitive."

Ginny must have noticed their friend's hesitancy as well, because she said, "I trust your judgement, Hermione. We need to know everything we can."

"I noticed that the bonded couples all died rather closely in time to one another," Harry's heart dropped and he felt slightly panicked, knowledge of the prophecy and his possible impending demise clear in his mind, until Hermione hurried to clarify, "but only when they died of old age. When one of the pair died unexpectedly due to unnatural causes, it seems the other half is not affected."

He breathed a sigh of relief at that, happy to know that even if something did happen to him, at least Ginny would have a chance. Ginny didn't seem to share his concerns or relief and instead seemed to be thinking it over intently.

"How many examples did you find?" She eventually asked.

Hermione answered, "There were only six couples I could find that had definitively been bonded by this particular ritual over the last thousand years or so. Most were done during times of conflict, as is to be expected, so there were only two couples that lasted into late adulthood."

"So we're going off what happened to two couples?" Harry asked skeptically.

"I know it's not much, but the two pairs that survived the conflict lived to be very old, far longer than the average witch or wizard who dies of natural causes, and the surviving half died very shortly thereafter, within a day or two. It's an odd enough occurrence to see once, let alone twice in such a small sample set."

"Interesting," Ginny said distractedly, lost in thought, though she made no attempt to share any of the thoughts the information had sparked within her mind. She asked Hermione, "What about the rest of the Blacks? Is it typical for Blacks to live longer than the average witch or wizard?"

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, excited by whatever theory the girls had both grasped. "You may be right… I wasn't really paying attention to any of the Black ancestors that hadn't been part of one of these betrothals, but it's a definite possibility. I'll look into it tomorrow," she assured Ginny.

Harry cast a glance at Ron and was relieved to see his friend was just as lost as he was. Ron coughed deliberately to draw their attention, "Mind sharing your thoughts? We don't have your weird female mind-reading abilities."

Ginny rolled her eyes, but the gesture lacked its earlier humor. Hermione huffed but explained, "Ginny was just pointing out that if Blacks typically live longer than most, given that they have a propensity for magical generation, perhaps it is that gift that keeps them alive longer. If magic is shared between bonded couples, then that ability would explain why the couples live longer and why their deaths so closely align."

Harry considered this, unsure how he felt about being so connected to another person. He'd always been on his own, with only himself that he really needed to worry about. If their magic was that tightly interwoven… it was just a scary thought. Not that there's anything wrong with Ginny, he thought. She's been wonderful actually.

"Maybe," he said aloud. He turned to see what Ginny thought, but her public persona was on full display at the moment. Other than the fact that he knew she was hiding something, he couldn't get a read on what her thoughts on the matter were.

"We don't really know anything about the bonding in terms of what it means for our magic once it's been completed, so it's all guesswork for now," Ginny said with an apathetic shrug. "Anyway, I'm going to go take that shower, maybe send off a few letters before bed. Will I see you soon, Hermione?"

"I'll be getting to bed shortly. Probably before you. I'd like to get an early start tomorrow," Hermione replied.

"Great," Ginny answered. "In that case, goodnight all. See you tomorrow." Her tone was cordial on the surface, but the smile was forced and her eyes flat before she turned and left without waiting for a response.

None of them commented on her abrupt departure or what had triggered it, but there was a heaviness surrounding them that told Harry they all felt the same way. Ron had watched her go sadly, his eyes lingering on the door long after she left.

Hermione tried to draw attention away from it, asking Ron, "What happened with your parents? They said we were going to get together again, to carry on the discussion, but we never did."

Ron turned back to Hermione. "Well, no one really went down to dinner last night, so there wasn't an opportunity, was there?" Harry recalled how Ron had found him red-eyed in Buckbeak's company last night, but hadn't drawn attention to the fact that he had clearly been crying, simply telling Harry he'd leave some food for him in their room when he was ready for it.

"But we were all there tonight and your mother didn't want us to even mention it, even though it would have been the perfect time," Hermione pointed out.

Ron waved his hand dismissively. "What would have been the point? Between the notes Sirius left and what he said to Ginny, we had worked out everything they were going to tell us. I woke up early this morning, so I spoke to dad about it and told him what we had worked out. He confirmed we had the right of it."

"I suppose that's true," Hermione said, still sounding disappointed.

Harry had no doubt that she had prepared a list of questions intent on getting more clarification. He was more inclined to agree with Ron, however, believing that the gist of the situation was enough. It didn't really matter much beyond that.

"We know enough about why," Harry decided to say. "Figuring out what happens from here is more important." He paused, wondering if he should tell them about the prophecy now, but decided against it. It was late, after all, and there was already too much going on. Ginny knew what she was getting into and that was enough for now. Still, the prophecy being on his mind made him anxious enough to double check, "You're sure that the death of one of the members of the betrothal doesn't harm the other?"

Hermione eyed him strangely, but she had been close enough to him to know he had experienced enough near misses with death that his fear was valid, so she replied, "It looks that way. I mean, none of the surviving parties died as a result, but so far I can't say anything in regard to how it affected their magic." She gave him an understanding look and placed a hand on his shoulder. It wasn't at all as comforting as when Ginny did it, and a part of him wanted to pull away from the contact, but he held still. "I'll do as much digging as possible tomorrow. Maybe some of them kept diaries. I know there are tons of things like that stored up in the attic."

"I can help you look, if you'd like," Ron added. Hermione pulled back to look at him in surprise. Ron offering to do research was certainly out of character, Harry thought, but he had seen how hard Ron was taking everything that was happening to his sister, and Harry knew better than anyone how guilt could motivate a person to do things they normally wouldn't. "It's a mess up there from the brief glimpse I got. Mum didn't even want to touch it before, but she'll understand why we need the information."

Hermione tried to cover up her surprise with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Ron. I appreciate it." She gave a little shiver. "I was not looking forward to going up there alone. The Blacks have some really creepy things that were stored there."

Ron muttered under his breath. Harry wasn't sure, but he thought it was something along the lines of, "Can't get any worse than spiders." He perked up then, "Hey, do you think if we send Crookshanks up first that he'd attack any spiders up there? I've seen him do that before."

Aghast, Hermione said, "Absolutely not! Who knows what kind of dangerous things are being stored there? What if he gets hurt?"

Ron, chastened, turned pink and rubbed at his neck. "Guess you're right. Didn't think about that. Sorry."

Recognizing that he truly didn't mean it, Hermione softened and said, "That's alright. It just made me nervous. I know you wouldn't want any harm to come to him."

Ron smiled back, looking relieved at having avoided a row. When the two stared at each other a bit longer than normal, Harry coughed.

"Right. Well, it looks like it'll be a busy day tomorrow, so we should all be getting to bed."

Harry and Ron took their leave after that, heading to their shared room upstairs. They didn't say much as they got ready for bed, both thinking rather intently about things. Ron's cheeks were faintly pink still, growing redder at seemingly random moments, and eventually Harry couldn't help but ask the obvious question.

"What was all that with Hermione tonight?" He asked, even though he knew he was opening Pandora's box. Depending on Ron's mood, asking about Hermione was like opening the door for Ron to ask about Ginny, which Harry definitely did not want to happen, but he sensed that his friend wasn't in the mood to snap back and may be open to the conversation. Clarifying, he said, "Normally you'd be fighting over Crookshanks, but you both...I've never seen you two… I don't know," he finished with a shrug.

Ron gave him a measured look. He seemed to be assessing Harry's motives and, understanding that Harry wasn't taking the mickey, replied, "Hermione and I have been friends since we were eleven," he shrugged. "I guess I just figured if you and Ginny could be that comfortable together when you hardly spoke for years, then there's no reason we couldn't do the same."

Surprised at the level of introspection that demonstrated on Ron's behalf, Harry said nothing at first, focusing on removing his glasses and climbing into bed for appearance's sake. Once he was settled, he said, "I'm glad." After a short pause, because he couldn't seem to stop thinking about her, he added, "It's been different - having Ginny around - but in a good way."

"Yeah," Ron replied vaguely, dimming the lights. "G'night, Harry."

Harry bid him goodnight as well, though he had no intention of sleeping. They both laid quietly for a time, only the sound of shifting sheets as Ron tossed and turned filling the silence. Harry waited for Ron's snoring to indicate he was in the clear to head up to meet Ginny, but it never came. Just as he was becoming frustrated, the lamp reignited.

"Are you going to see Ginny again?" Ron asked without preamble.

Harry looked at his friend, panicked. Without his glasses though, he couldn't see Ron's expression to determine what he was thinking. All he could do was play innocent. "What?"

"I'm not an idiot, thanks," Ron said brusquely. "I know I don't always know how to react or what to say, and more often than not I mess it up and do the exact opposite of what I should, but I do notice things."

Harry quickly remembered Ron saying he had woken up early this morning, which meant he must have known that Harry hadn't been in bed, yet he hadn't said anything to anyone. He was surprised by - but also exceeding grateful for - his friend's tact. Still, he didn't want to admit anything.

Ron continued quietly, "That's her second shower today. She isn't weird about dirt, you know. She has absolutely no problem digging in the garden or chucking gnomes with us." Harry knew this - she had reacted better than anyone when the Mimbulus Mimbletonia had covered them all in Stinksap at the beginning of the year. "She only ever gets like this when she's trying 'to gain some measure of control'. That's how they explained it anyway, but we're not supposed to 'mention it or bother her about it', because 'there are far worse coping methods'," he said in a decent approximation of what Harry thought was supposed to be Bill. Dejectedly, he continued. "I'd probably muck it up anyway…" Harry wanted to reassure him, but Ron continued more strongly, "I'm not the person to do it, but she needs someone. So are you going to see her or not?"

It was the most forceful Harry had ever heard Ron be about something so emotional so he replied honestly, "Yes."

"Good," Ron said firmly. "I'll cover for you if need be."

"Okay," Harry said quietly, still surprised by the sudden turn Ron seemed to have taken today. He didn't waste time thinking about it, however, and was quickly under his cloak and on his way to Ginny.

She was playing guitar with her back to the door, singing quietly when he entered. The music was enough to cover the sound of the door opening, however, allowing him to listen without her knowledge.

"'Cause tonight we got drinks

And just a couple of friends

And the girl that my brother likes is finally talking to him

And his chest is all swelled like he's proud and happy

Like he's got a great idea

Like he's making a memory"

Harry smiled to himself. She wasn't much of a singer, but the memory of how they had all been joking together and Ron and Hermione's interaction was a happy one. As she continued, he continued to picture the scene.

"Wake up and come out to the car

There's an east swell coming

The wind is howling off shore

And we'll be lying like lions out in the sand

But I'll be dead before you -"

"No," he said in a hard voice, startling her. Her playing cut off and she turned to stare at him with wide eyes. He looked at her furiously. "Absolutely not."

"Excuse me?" She asked with an edge to her tone, her expression guarded. It should have served as a warning, but Harry's agitation was too high for him to heed it. He wasn't even really thinking about the words - all he could see was the image of her lying on the Chamber floor when he had thought she was dead.

"You can't sacrifice yourself, not for anything or anyone," he stated firmly.

Her eyes flashed, but she kept her tone deliberately even. "What? You think you're the only person who is allowed to make sacrifices?" She pinned him with a glare, eyes narrowed and jaw tight. "This isn't just your fight, Harry. We all need to do our part to win this war."

"You know that's not true, Ginny." He ran his hand through his hair, pulling on it to center himself, so he could frame it properly. His nerves were still too high, but he persisted in trying. "You've sacrificed enough. You're doing enough already." He shook his head. "I won't allow any more than that."

Her eyes lit with true fire and, for the first time since he heard her singing, he questioned what he had done. Admittedly, he knew the words were a mistake the moment they left his mouth. "You won't allow me? And just what makes you think you have a say?" He had barely opened his mouth to respond when she said, "Where do you even get off saying that? How about if I said I won't let you run off and face Voldemort? How would you feel about that?"

"That's not the same thing, Ginny. I don't have a choice, the prophecy -"

"You call this a choice?! What the hell else am I supposed to do Harry? Because none of this has been a choice. Nothing is for either of us at this point. We're just doing what we have to do." she said angrily.

His anger had strangely faded in response to her own. He realized he was shaking, but didn't seem to be able to control it. The cold way she eyed him wasn't helping matters, either. It was so different from how they had been interacting since they had returned to Grimmauld Place that it made him feel weak.

Her eyes widened and he saw some sort of understanding there. Less angry, but still resolute, she said, "I'm scared too, Harry, but that doesn't mean you can walk in here and act like you have any control over what I do or don't do."

"This is different," he said, avoiding her accusation. It was the wrong thing to say apparently, and her already angry expression twisted to one of pure outrage. He hurried to clarify, "I'm not downplaying what you're doing. I told you I think you've sacrificed too much. But you were just talking about laying down your life -".

She scoffed at him and he had to force his temper from rising back up at the gesture. "Don't just barge in here and make assumptions," she said with a glare. "The lyric wasn't going where you thought it was. Besides, the song isn't even about me."

"Oh," he breathed in relief. It occurred to him that she may be lying, so he watched her carefully as he asked, "Really?"

She didn't get angry again, like he might have expected. Instead, the hardness in her expression faded into something pained before she continued more calmly. "Yes. I didn't even write this - Sirius did, back during the first war," she said, gesturing to the worn notebook beside her. "The 'brother' he's referring to was actually your dad." All her anger had apparently deflated, until nothing but sadness was in its place.

That sadness resonated with him as well, but it didn't wash out the lingering remains of panic that the thought of losing her had created. He still felt like he was shaking with it, though the tremors had stopped. He had lost so many people close to him in the past. He had almost lost her when they were just kids, and it had terrified him even then, before he truly knew what it would have meant to lose her. Now that he knew, it was so much worse. Despite how out of control it had made him feel, she had been correct when she said he had no right to treat her that way.

Silence had settled between them. Both of them had gotten angry and escalated the fight, but he had started it and been the most in the wrong, so he figured it was up to him to take the first step toward reconciliation. Awkwardly, he said, "Sorry about that." He could barely meet her eyes for more than a few moments, so he looked down and rubbed his neck. He realized that wasn't enough, so he forced himself to look at her again. "Even if you had been- even if they had been your own words - I shouldn't have been presumptuous enough to think I could tell you what to do."

She looked him over extensively, as if she were taking in every detail of his appearance and weighing it. By the time she nodded to herself, he felt as if he had been x-rayed. Thankfully, it was worth it, because the lingering tension that suggested she had been holding onto some of her anger had faded.

"I appreciate that, Harry." She tried to smile, but her attempt landed just shy of reaching her eyes. Mockingly stern, she added, "Don't let it happen again, though, or there will be hell to pay."

Awkwardness settled in again. In that time, Ginny shrunk the guitar with a tap of her wand and reattached it to her charm bracelet. She played with the charms for a while, the phoenix one in particular. When he had seen it for the first time, it had reminded him of the bell jar they had seen in the Department of Mysteries and the way she had stared at it the night that Sirius died. He wondered if that was where her mind was now too, but didn't want to ask and make things worse again.

She seemed to have had enough of the silence, as well, because she said, "You know, I've been thinking about it, and I think the Potters may have a gift somehow related to defensive magic."

"What makes you say that?" He asked curiously, afraid to hope that she might have given him the answer.

"Well, your father was extremely skilled at dueling, your grandfather as well, and you clearly have a talent for it. From all the stories I've heard, it seems the most plausible," she looked away then, shifting uncomfortably, and continued quickly, "though I'm sure there are plenty of things I don't know about you or your family that could hint at something else. It's not always very overt. Sometimes it's subtle, like the general ability to cast with above average strength to the spells."

"I don't know. It's something to think about, at least, and I can always ask Moony, like you said," he replied, turning the idea over in his mind.

She nodded in response, but didn't say anything as she looked down at where she was pulling the worn sleeves of Fred's jumper down over her hands- her whole demeanor radiated awkwardness. Harry knew that the discomfort she was displaying was because of how he had reacted earlier to the knowledge Sirius had given her, and he didn't like it at all. Everything had been fine until he had gotten upset, and he wanted the atmosphere between them to go back to the light, teasing way it had been earlier.

"Look, Gin," he started uncomfortably, "I didn't mean to upset you earlier when we were talking about family gifts. It's-"

She interrupted him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Upset me?! You haven't been upsetting me, Harry. I've been feeling guilty that I kept upsetting you. I feel like I just keep making things worse by taking things from you or bringing up bad memories or just -"

"No!" He interrupted. "No, not at all. I don't blame you for anything. I keep making you feel bad though-"

"No, you have every right to be overwhelmed and upset. I get that way too-"

"But it wouldn't be so bad if I would-"

Suddenly Ginny burst into laughter, cutting him off. Harry was surprised but relieved by the turn in her behavior. He loved it when she laughed, even if he didn't know why.

"Stop!" She managed to wheeze between breaths, "We both need to stop." Calming down, she continued looking much more at ease, "Clearly neither one of us is upset with the other, and we need to stop being so ridiculous."

He chuckled too, only now realizing just how ridiculous they had been acting. "Yeah. You're right. So, we're fine, then?"

She rolled her eyes, but smiled genuinely. "We're fine, Harry. I think we both need to remember that this isn't easy and cut ourselves some slack."

He felt better as she smiled at him. The circumstances were extremely stressful at the moment, and it wasn't surprising that sometimes things may get out of hand, but they would be alright as long as they slowed down and recognized it. He smiled back too.

Feeling lighter, he sat down beside her. "So, did Sirius leave that to you?"

She tilted her head, "Well, it seems like he left it behind to both of us, as it was just inside the normal box." Her eyes shot to his worriedly, "Sorry, but after a while I just assumed you weren't coming tonight and started going through things again."

He dismissed her apology. "It's fine. I was just waiting for Ron to fall asleep first." Then, not wanting to lie to her, but also not wanting to get into it, he moved on. "It's all good now, though. Mind if I…?" He asked, gesturing to the box.

"Not at all. I took your box out already - I didn't look at it or anything - well, it fell and I had to put everything back, but I tried not to look - but it was in the way of mine and it's a bit difficult to get out -"

"It's fine, Gin," he said with a smile. He bumped her shoulder with his and winked, "Now stop apologizing before people start to think you're me."

"Ha. Ha. Harry," she replied sarcastically, adding an eye-roll for good measure. She had a legitimate smile on her face, though, the kind that made him feel like he was standing in a ray of sunlight, and Harry counted that as a victory.

Harry got up from the bed to retrieve the box Sirius had left specifically for him as Ginny began flipping through the journal. As he sat back down beside her, he saw her smile sadly and stroke a page.

"Gin?" He asked, unable to help himself. "You okay?"

She pulled her hand back from the page as if burned, her eyes blinking back the slight accumulation of moisture there as she looked at him. She cleared her throat, "Yeah. I'm fine. I've just been reading through his journal," she lifted the book slightly in indication, "but I've mostly been skimming. Didn't really want to read about what he thought of me, you know?"

"I wouldn't worry about that. Clearly he thought highly of you," Harry said gently, sitting down beside her again and placing his box to the side. Inside, he was wondering if the same could be said about himself. Sirius had said he loved him in the letter he left for him, but that was an easy thing to leave behind as a final good-bye. Most people would expect something like that, wouldn't they? Is that what he really thought? Harry wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

Perceptive as always, Ginny nudged him. "He thought very highly of you too," she said with an encouraging smile. "I didn't feel any need to skip the parts about you," she added teasingly.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied, giving her a small smile, but refusing to be pushed off topic. "What were you looking at just now?"

She shook her head, smiling fondly at him. "That can wait, Harry. I saw something in there that makes me think you're going to like what he left you. I really think you should open it."

He looked deeply into her eyes, searching for something. He wasn't sure what it was - reassurance maybe - but he found it regardless. He saw a total understanding of the apprehension he felt at facing the final gifts Sirius had left him. Aside from his broom and a broken mirror that could have prevented this tragedy to begin with, he had nothing of the man who was the closest thing to his own true family that he had ever had. What if it wasn't really anything of significance? What if he didn't actually leave him anything at all? Ginny must have seen his doubts, because she laid her hand on top of his and squeezed gently.

"You don't have to," she said softly. "I do truly believe you won't be disappointed, though. I haven't seen the finished product, but I can tell Sirius put a lot of time and effort into it."

Warmth radiated from her and into him from where it still laid on his, settling his harried nerves. Her confidence washed over him like sunlight and gave him the courage to open the package. Reticent as he was to lose physical contact with her, he was now committed to seeing this through, so he nodded and removed his hand from hers so that he could open it.

There was a single item staring up at him from inside the box: a thick bound book entitled Mischief Managed, written in Sirius's hand. His eyes widened in surprise at the content, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. He knew without even cracking the cover that Sirius had given him a gift beyond anything he had ever dreamed of. There could only be one subject of this book and it was something he had always wanted. Harry was now holding a tangible connection to his father's, and by extension his, past.

He felt like his whole body had seized up the moment he realized the significance of what he had been given. Nothing around him registered as he stared at the book. His throat tightened painfully, making it hard to swallow or even breathe, and his hand had paused halfway toward the cover, as if he was afraid to touch it and find it was all an illusion. Caught in the emotional tidal wave, he stayed like that for a long moment.

It wasn't until Ginny took his extended hand and laced her fingers with his that he thawed and started breathing properly again. His racing heart and rapid breathing left him feeling as if he'd just been sprinting instead of sitting immobile. Ginny sat quietly beside him, her hand holding his firmly, and rested her head on his shoulder as he steadied himself.

She didn't speak until he had returned to some approximation of normal. Not moving from her spot against him, she spoke to the wall ahead of them in a quiet, soothing voice. "It's alright, Harry. Take all the time you need."

Her gentle presence - how her thumb brushed the back of his hand soothingly, the way she didn't ask anything of him, the scent of her hair so close to his face, the warmth radiating into his side where her body aligned with his - settled him, until he could think and act normally again. He was about to apologize for his gross overreaction, but she squeezed his hand twice before he could inhale to form the words. He knew she was wordlessly absolving him of any guilt. He squeezed back gratefully and let go.

Without a word between them, he placed the book in his lap and opened it. It seemed to be understood between them that he wanted her here for this, that her presence was helping him, so she stayed resting against his shoulder. He quickly slipped his hand back into hers, using only his free hand to flip the pages.

The first section of the book was labeled, "Tales of the Marauders (and Company)". There was a note written directly below the title, addressed to him.

Harry,

I'm afraid I've been remiss, always thinking there would be another time, a better moment, maybe when it was just us, to share these things with you, but those moments never came. It's no excuse, but I could never seem to force the words out in front of others. I'm so sorry, kiddo. I hope I'm sitting next to while you being laughed at for being so dramatic while you're reading this, but I can't shake the worry that I won't be. This is just a small collection of the stories I've been longing to tell you, most of them inspired by the similarities I've seen between you and your parents. They'd be so proud to call you their son, Harry. I know I am.

Love,

Sirius

Part of Harry desperately wanted to know what stories the pages held, what Sirius had thought would best represent the spirit and character of his father and their friends, but he was too tired and overwrought to face it at present.

The memory he had seen from Snape and how a young Sirius had found the altercation funny tried to surface, but he quickly beat it back, wanting to enjoy this moment. As disillusioned as he felt with the memory of his father after what he had seen, he still hoped there was more to the story, that Harry could find a way to forgive him for being such an arrogant, bullying jerk, but if those stories revealed otherwise… All he had ever had of his parents were the stories he had been told and the fantasies he had built around them, but if the truth written here proved them wrong, Harry wasn't sure he would ever recover. He quickly flipped to the next section, relieved to find a collection of annotated photographs.

There were all sorts of photos there, from his father as a child to Harry as a baby, including pictures of his mother when she was in her Hogwarts days. How Sirius had gotten them he doubted he would ever know, but he was grateful none-the-less, never having seen her at that age before. He couldn't help commenting to Ginny, "Look at my mum, she's probably as short as you there."

She swatted his chest lightly, but replied with good humour, "That's enough out of you. I'm the perfect size, thank you very much. You're not one to talk. Look at your father there - you look just like him except for the height and eyes."

There were also photos that he recognized the settings of, photos that were taken the same day as the photos he had in the album Hagrid had given him, except these included Sirius as well. Harry smiled frequently, as did Ginny from what he could feel of her cheek against his arm, reading the little notes Sirius had added below each one for context. Mostly, Harry just marveled at how young and happy they all looked together.

Eventually, he noticed that Ginny had stopped smiling in response to the images, despite the fact that there was a particularly embarrassing one of baby Harry in the tub that had him desperately wanting to close the book. Surprised, he tried to peek at her without disturbing her position or giving himself away.

In the end, it proved unnecessary, as Ginny yawned widely and she drooped forward. The movement caused her head to slide off his shoulder slightly until she jerked back. He couldn't see her eyes with how she was positioned against him, but he was certain she had nearly drifted off to sleep. Even when she pulled her head back up, she was still sagging into his side. Still, she made no move to lie down yet.

"Gin," he said quietly, causing her to pull back and look at him with bleary eyes. Harry stared at her intently, because he knew she was exhausted and that her face should have shown it more. Instead of believing the lighting had been playing tricks on him as he had earlier, he was now suspecting there had been some magic involved. Her expression was completely sagged and should have reflected that exhaustion in her coloring, even if only in the bags under her eyes. The longer he stared, the more he believed he was correct. Her eyes were barely open at this point.

"Gin, you can go to sleep if you want," he said. Then realizing it may be the light that was a problem, offered, "I don't have to do this tonight. I'll just head back to bed so you can turn the lights down."

She shook her head sleepily, yawning widely again before answering, "No," she croaked a bit, her throat dry from disuse. She cleared it and said more clearly, "No, you're fine. I don't mind the light. I was just- yeah. I'm just going to lie down if you don't mind."

He smiled softly in reassurance. "Go ahead. G'night."

"Night, Harry," she mumbled, grabbing Snuffles off the bedside table and lying down in the same spot she had last night. She didn't look much like she was trying to settle in for the night though, lying atop the heavy comforter, only having wrapped herself in a light woven blanket. Still, she fell asleep within moments.

Harry watched her for a moment, before deciding he couldn't leave her like that. Sure, she was exhausted, but eventually the cold would wake her up. Gently shifting the heavy comforter, he slid it out from underneath her and laid it atop her instead. A slight smile lifted her lips as she relaxed further.

The image of her lying there in a peaceful slumber painted a comfortable picture to Harry. He wanted nothing more than to lie down beside her and drift into whatever realm she had found that made her face appear so relaxed, but knew he couldn't. His body was reacting faintly even at present - despite the calm, comforting nature of the moment - as his eyes travelled along the smooth contour of her body wrapped tightly in the blanket, reminding him why he couldn't. It just wouldn't be right now that he knew the physical effect her body had on him. Maybe if he had asked first…

He shook of the line of thought and deliberately turned back to the book in his lap, flipping to the next section. The first page was largely blank except for one sentence. "If you ever get your head out of your arse regarding Ginny Weasley, this may be helpful." Curious, Harry turned the page to find a very detailed drawing of a naked woman with a man… he quickly snapped the book shut, causing Ginny to stir slightly. His face was flaming, even though she was none the wiser.

Of course Sirius would leave sex advice. What if he had turned to that page before she had fallen asleep? A little warning might have been nice, Harry thought to himself, disgruntled in his embarrassment at the close call. Then a chuckle escaped and he muttered in disbelief, "Fucking Sirius."

He looked up and whispered to wherever Sirius was, "You did that on purpose. I know you did." Then after a pause, he added, "Thanks." He was deeply grateful for it, now that he had thought it over, because maybe - just maybe - he would someday need that kind of advice, and Sirius had given him a gift by finding a way to provide it to him in a way that meant he wouldn't have to pluck up the courage to ask.

He'd never really considered it. He'd had one disaster of a kiss and one disaster of a date with a girl before and had never really given much thought to what an actual relationship might be like or where it would lead. Why would he have? It seemed like the kind of thing that other people had, people who were not him.

Even if he had considered it, who would he even go to? The only people he could even dream of ever being comfortable enough to ask something like that would be one of the Weasley brothers. They were the closest things he had to brothers himself, and the likeliest option, but he could never approach them for sex advice if he wanted it for help with Ginny.

He froze as his thoughts caught up to him.

Until this moment, he hadn't really considered what all the little observations and feelings in regard to Ginny had meant. Yes, he was attracted to her physically, but she was attractive, so it wasn't surprising. He'd been fleetingly attracted to plenty of girls before, after all. There is nothing fleeting about your attraction to Ginny, a voice in his head called him out, and not just physically.

This was true. He'd been fleetingly attracted to the various girls at Hogwarts - their hair, chest, or backside catching his attention here or there - but he had never been so attracted to a girl as a whole. Even Cho, who had been his first crush and he had mildly obsessed over, had been more of an infatuation with the idea of a pretty girl than a true attraction to who she was. His feelings toward Ginny weren't like that. They were deep and real. There was a connection there that had him feeling like they understood each other, like they operated on the same level that very few others could truly relate to, and it made him want to be around her all the more.

Her laugh, her smile, and her good moods all made him happier. Her fears, doubts, and pain made him ache for her. That was not indicative of a fleeting attraction, but something deeper and unexpected. He actually fancied Ginny.

It was not something he was prepared for.

Moments ago he had been dreading leaving her side and was preparing to force himself, but now he felt like he had to get away. Quickly, he stored everything carefully and left, heading for his own bed away from the confusion that now surrounded her.

Once settled in his room, Ron's familiar snores filling the air, he tried not to think about it too much. He fancied Ginny, which may have been a little awkward at worst if the situation were different, but now was complicated beyond belief given their current predicament. They were bound and only had the option to be together, so it may have been a good indicator for their future had she been interested in him as well… but she had long since gotten over him.

Filled with a tumultuous mix of anger, confusion, and disappointment, he punched the pillow before settling back down. Thinking was getting him nowhere, he decided. Taking deep breaths, he forced himself to calm down, doing his best to stop thinking entirely so that he could eventually fall asleep.

Harry woke up in a cold sweat, the new nightmare he had just witnessed causing bile to rise in his throat, though he forced it down. His brain had twisted his usual miserable nightmare - the one featuring Sirius falling through the veil while Harry watched helplessly - into something worse. He had been in the Chamber, directing the Basilisk to go after Sirius while Ginny clung to his arm and begged him to stop. Instead of listening to her, he ignored her pleas and insisted he had everything under control. "You can trust me," he had said every time she cried out that he didn't know what he was doing. Sirius was quickly caught in the serpent's gaze, falling dead to the floor in the same way he had fallen back through the veil. Harry didn't hear his body land, as Ginny's piercing scream when the Basilisk twisted around to return to where he and Ginny were standing had woken him.

Overall, Harry didn't place much stock in divination or dreams that weren't related to Voldemort, but even he knew what this was about. Even if he hadn't been able to read between the lines of the context, the sinking, sick feeling he had radiating throughout his body made it undeniable that this nightmare was entirely centered on his feelings of guilt. Guilt for all the things he hadn't done for Ginny, like what had happened with the diary, for what he had done as well, like what had happened to Sirius, and for what was happening now, like the way his selfish brooding always seemed to make Ginny feel worse.

Intellectually, he knew he hadn't intentionally hurt Sirius. All he had wanted was to protect him, just as that was all Sirius wanted for him. After reading through the book Sirius had left him and seeing how much effort the man had put into it, he had no doubt that Sirius would forgive him. It didn't mean he wouldn't blame himself somewhat, but he needed to remember that it wasn't truly his fault, just a horrible set of circumstances that aligned in the worst possible way.

He also needed to see Ginny now, regardless of the confusion way he felt about her. He knew sleep wouldn't be an option until he had ascertained that she was okay. It didn't matter that it was irrational. Grabbing the invisibility cloak, he headed upstairs as quietly as possible.

When he slipped in the door, he breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her sleeping peacefully in the bed just as he had left her. The larger blanket that he had pulled over her only came up to her chest, but the quilt she had been wrapped up in was wrapped all the way up past her chin. Despite how quiet he had been, he saw her stir and pull the blanket down, freeing her mouth.

"Harry," she called out questioningly. "Did you leave?"

"Yeah," he replied quietly as he removed the cloak and made his way over to the bed. "Tried to sleep downstairs, but it didn't work out."

Now that he was closer, she pulled the quilt that she was cocooned in tighter around her, bunching it up in front of her face again and obscuring her voice a little. Despite this, Harry though he could make out the words, "Shouldn't have left in the first place. It's much nicer here."

Relieved that she wasn't upset that he intended to sleep there as well, he climbed in. As disturbed as the realization that he fancied her had made him, the feeling of peace and calm he felt in her presence reminded him that his feelings were more than just that. She had a way of providing companionship and comfort that settled him. They were friends now and a team. He could count on her and she needed to be able to count on him. Whatever he may or may not have felt romantically wasn't as important as remembering that fact.

As he settled himself, she slid close enough that he could feel her warmth between the woven blanket that separated them. She let out a satisfactory sigh and he saw a slight smile lift her lips. "Mmm, warmth. It's much better when you're here."

Ginny was perfectly at ease and comfortable with him there and the feeling spread to him as well, washing out all the lingering negativity of his nightmare. Harry smiled widely to himself, remaining silent as he watched her slip back into slumber. This was the second night Ginny had spoken to him so frankly when she was half asleep. He wasn't sure she even remembered it when she was in a daze like she was at present, but regardless of if she remembered it or not, he quite liked these moments. His earlier dilemma pushed aside for the time being, he finally felt at peace and allowed himself to fall asleep as well.