Harry felt slightly unhinged.

He knew Ginny kept shooting him worried glances - she had been since Ollivander had slapped him in the face with the truth and Harry had rushed them through paying the man and out the door - but he ignored them. Instead he kept a firm grip on her and kept scanning the area for threats as they made their way back to the bank in search of Bill.

"Damn it, Harry. Will you just stop for a second," Ginny exclaimed, planting her feet firmly enough that Harry nearly toppled them both in his effort to push her along. "What is your deal? Why are you in such a hurry to get back to Gringotts?"

"Move, Ginny," he replied tensely. "We shouldn't be out here exposed. We should have waited for Tonks or Bill in the first place."

Ginny didn't share his paranoia. "We're under the cloak," she said in exasperation, lifting the fabric that covered them for emphasis. "And safely against the wall in a quiet part of the street. We have time for you to explain why you've suddenly gone mental."

Harry was still scanning the area. She was mostly right. They were relatively safe. Ollivander's words had shaken him deeply, however.

He had always assumed Fawkes gave the feathers used in his and Voldemort's wands at the same time, by coincidence and decades before the name Lord Voldemort had even been thought of. Now he wondered if his had been given after that Halloween night when he was an infant, but he didn't know. He didn't even trust what he thought he knew.

After everything that had been kept from him over the years, it wouldn't have surprised him to find out that there was another prophecy about Ginny and Voldemort that he had yet to be informed of. The idea made his skin itch with anxiety. They needed to be moving.

He quickly explained, "We're finding Bill and then we're going to talk to Dumbledore. Now," he said firmly, forcing her to begin walking in the direction of the bank once more.

She gave him a small shove, not enough to trip him up, but enough to express her displeasure. "You don't have to manhandle me," she whispered forcefully, since their walking had put them in the vicinity of other shoppers who may hear their conversation. "I happen to agree with you," she added, increasing their pace.

Bill was only slightly surprised to see them, saying he had already sent Tonks, along with Ron and Hermione, to find them. "You really should talk to Tonks first," he said disapprovingly.

As far as Harry was concerned, tt had taken far too long to find Bill and pry him away from whatever puzzle he was working on as it was. He already felt at his limit for delays and was moments away from unloading his frustration on Bill. He considered himself lucky that Ginny responded before he lashed out at her brother.

"Tell us where to go, Bill," she said resolutely, "or we'll find our own way."

Bill weighed her. She stood tensely at Harry's side, her chin sticking out stubbornly and her unblinking gaze never wavering.

"Fine. Give me a sec," he said, going back to his coworker for a word before leading them to a private floo in the office. "The headmaster's office and the infirmary are the only two fireplaces connected to the main grid without prior authorization. I'll take you to Dumbledore's office, but if he isn't there - and he's probably not, you know - we're coming straight back. Clear?"

"Yes," Ginny said, though her tone was saturated with annoyance.

Harry nodded his agreement, though he had no intention of returning without speaking to Dumbledore. Bill stared at him much longer than necessary, his look saying he was aware that Harry was not to be trusted at present.

Luckily no argument with Bill was necessary, as the headmaster was sitting at his desk looking pensive when they arrived. He smiled slightly when he saw who had entered his office unannounced.

"What a happy coincidence. Just the people I was thinking about," he said jovially. He waved slightly in greeting, but there was nothing welcoming about the sight of the black and withered hand he had raised. The darkened, damaged flesh was only emphasized by the contrast of a shiny gold ring with a cracked stone that adorned one of the fingers. They all failed to respond, staring at the gruesome appendage. Dumbledore took no offense, laughing and waving it dismissively. "Ah, worry not. Severus and I have the situation well in hand." He let out another laugh.

Not one of them joined in. They all continued to stare, unconvinced. Harry was suspicious of Dumbledore's light dismissal, and Ginny's hard look said she felt similarly. Bill looked concerned, though, and was the first to speak. "Er, are you sure, Professor Dumbledore? It looks like -".

"I am quite sure. Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore interrupted, finality in his tone. It only enhanced Harry's suspicion.

Awkwardly, Bill responded, "Right. Well - ".

He stopped short as a silver, indistinct canine form bounded into the room. To Harry's surprise, it spoke with Tonks' voice, "We haven't found Harry and Ginny," it said nervously. "Are they with you? Ravens said you stepped out, but that you'd be back."

Bill sighed. "I guess I should head back and fill her in. We don't need my patronus telling all of Diagon Alley where you've gone." He looked at the headmaster, "Is it alright that I leave them with you?"

Harry bristled at being treated like an incompetent child. Apparently, Ginny did too. "We're right here, Bill," she said waspishly.

Dumbledore interjected, "I assure you it is no trouble at all, Mr. Weasley. As I was planning to visit your sister and Harry in the next few days, it is rather advantageous that they have come to me, in fact," he said, smiling pleasantly.

Another patronus from Tonks appeared. "Bill," it said in warning, "you have three minutes before I go check your Mum's clock."

"I better go," he said, standing quickly. He gave Ginny and Harry one last parting glance. "I expect you to go straight back to Grimmauld Place, got it?" He waited for their nods before disappearing in a swirl of green flame.

"I didn't know a patronus could change," Ginny said sadly to Dumbledore.

"It can," Dumbledore replied in kind. "When an individual experiences a great emotional upheaval, such as Nymphadora has recently."

Grief momentarily overrode Harry's anxious temper at the evidence of how greatly the loss of Sirius was hurting them all, the ill-formed canine turning into Padfoot in his mind.

"It's a wolf, isn't it?" She asked, shattering the shaggy black dog of his imagination. "For Professor Lupin?"

"I believe it is, yes."

"A wolf?" Harry asked, unable to suppress his curiosity.

"Yes. It would appear young Nymphadora has fallen in love with our own Remus Lupin, and love - as I believe I have told you - is the greatest and most terrible force in the universe," he said, a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips.

The statement struck Harry, driving his curiosity away. He avoided the reason why those words felt like getting hit by a train and pushed aside all thoughts except for the reason behind their visit. His previous irritation easily flooded his system again.

Dumbledore must have recognized the shift in his thoughts. His face sobered, the tired expression making him more closely resemble the aged man he was. "I daresay you did not come here to discuss the patronus charm, however. So, what can I do for you today?"

"We just came from Ollivanders," he began, doing his best to keep his emotions in check. He knew rationally that he wasn't really angry with the headmaster, but the memory of the last time he was in this office and the information he learned had been kept from him had phantom anger fueling his current rage. His feelings were poorly veiled as he asked, "Did you know Fawkes gave a feather after Ginny's first year?" He gave his headmaster a hard look. "Ollivander said it was meant for her, that we were all connected. Did you know?"

"As I informed all of you at the time of the incident, I knew young Ginevra had been possessed by a sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle, but there was no indication that the wraith of Lord Voldemort was aware of the incident at that time," Dumbledore replied.

Harry wasn't at all impressed with that answer. It wasn't even an answer to the question he had asked. "But you knew he'd find out, didn't you?" He pressed, acid in his tone. "And that once he did, she would become a target? You knew that he might come after her for it, didn't you?"

"It occurred to me that it was a possibility," he allowed, seemingly unperturbed by Harry's antagonism. "I believed, however, that Lucius Malfoy would be in no hurry to reveal his failure in that respect. Even once Voldemort did learn of the incident, he had much bigger plans to attend to. However," he said, halting the outburst Harry was about to unleash upon him with a raised hand, "I have placed every feasible protection possible upon the Weasley family home. The Weasleys are all prime targets for the opposition, and I would not leave any of them vulnerable to an attack."

Ginny spoke calmly from beside him, "I've been thinking about that, Professor Dumbledore. Wouldn't it be best to put the Burrow under Fidelius instead?" There was a levelness to her that made Harry even more irritated. He didn't understand why she wasn't more upset about this

"I'm afraid the Fidelius will not be practical for the Burrow," he said gravely. Harry noticed her disappointment, though she remained outwardly composed. "It is a particularly tricky bit of magic that locks the location away in the minds of each individual who knows it. The number of people who know the location already…" he shook his head. "I'm afraid not even I have that kind of power, Miss Black. It's why the Potters had to leave their estate - they were very well socialized and the family had lived there for generations. The cottage in Godric's Hollow was unknown, making it easier to successfully hide."

Harry filed that away for later consideration. He hadn't even known there was a Potter Manor, let alone what led his parents to hide in Godric's Hollow, but he wasn't about to allow the headmaster to distract him. For now, he kept himself focused on Ginny.

"Couldn't you try?" Harry pressed, knowing she wouldn't have brought it up unless it was important to her.

"Even if I were to attempt," Dumbledore said sadly, "it would likely only result in blocking the exact location of the property. People like Peter Pettigrew would still know whereabouts to look, and anyone with advanced senses - including Pettigrew and the werewolf Fenrir Greyback - would catch your scent and find it. While they wouldn't be able to enter the property themselves, the Fidelius does not block from physical attacks. The existing wards I have placed will do so, but adding the Fidelius would create a magical overload that would cause them to collapse, leaving anyone residing there at risk."

Harry's fists clenched in frustration. He'd never liked the thought of Ginny in danger - he'd known this already - but the thought of her having a connection to, not simply an association with, Voldemort the way he did was making him mad with worry. It wasn't acceptable. He needed her to be as safe as possible. It was the only thing that really mattered in that moment.

Ginny broke into his thoughts, her hand wrapping around his. He loosened his angry grasp and allowed her to lace their fingers. The effect she had on him was immediate, the knots created by his worried mind untangling with every breath she took beside him.

"It's fine, Harry," she said soothingly, her brown eyes meeting his earnestly. "We'll stay at Grimmauld Place. It doesn't matter where we are, as long as the family is together and safe."

"Ah," the headmaster interrupted. "As you may have imagined, I was quite surprised when Professor Snape informed me that your family was staying at Headquarters and the developments that lead to it."

Harry looked at him coldly. "Some people actually took Ginny's safety seriously." He had thought he was over it already, but now that he truly realized how deep her connection to Voldemort was, all his negative feelings over the betrothal were completely obliterated. There was no price too high to make sure she was safe. Irrational as he was feeling, he'd marry her right now if it meant keeping her safe.

Ginny ran her thumb in circles on the back of his hand and drew his attention. She gave him a pointed look and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He copied her actions, recognizing her scent in the air as he inhaled through his nose deeply and exhaled through his mouth. It helped more than he would have expected. You're acting insane, he scolded himself. It was entirely too easy to funnel his worry over Ginny into anger at the headmaster. He gave her a slight smile to let her know he appreciated her efforts.

She smiled in return before turning to the headmaster, her expression more sedate. "Do you know anything about these types of rituals, sir? We haven't been able to find much, but… the connection seems a bit more extreme than I would have guessed."

The headmasters gaze was curious, "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, my dear. Can you explain a bit more?"

Ginny did, while Harry worked on controlling his emotions. He was surprised when she went into quite a bit more detail than she had with anyone else, going so far as the explain that after the ritual at Gringotts, she felt much more stable casting magic around Harry.

When she finished, Dumbledore took some time thinking it over before responding, "I cannot say for certain if this is due to the magic of the betrothal or some other circumstance. Though I have heard of such betrothal rites, I have had no reason to research them too closely myself."

"You may not know about the betrothal specifically," Harry said suspiciously, "but can you honestly tell me you know of no way to help us better understand this?"

The headmaster sighed. "No," he said in resignation. "You are correct. I do know of one way." He looked at Ginny, "If you will allow it, I can perform a spell that will better allow us to understand the connection between the two of you, but you may find it… invasive."

A stubborn look came over her face and she said strongly, "Do it. We need to know everything we can."

He pulled out his wand with his withered hand, pointed it at Ginny, and began a complicated series of wand movements silently. Harry sat still as stone as he watched a bright light form, originating in the area of Ginny's heart, before spreading out like a pool. Further observation was lost on him as the light shining out of the image caught him in it's rays and he was overwhelmed by everything Ginny. Every feeling she evoked, her flowery scent, her power, the dreams he'd been having of a future… somehow this light encompassed everything he knew about her and everything he had yet to learn.

A distant part of him was aware that as the headmaster continued to work his magic, more light sprouted upward, coalescing into a tree. There were colors within the light, but Harry couldn't focus on that, so caught up was he in enjoying the feel of her. "Gin," he whispered, not wanting to break the effect. "It's…"

"Me," she answered shortly. Her tone held none of his awe and it broke him from his reverie. When he looked at her, her jaw was locked and eyes narrowed as she stared at the light formation.

Before he could look more closely, Dumbledore spoke and drew his attention. "Not quite," he said patiently. "This is a mere representation of Miss Black's magic, which also allows us to examine her magical connections."

Dumbledore's interruption helped him focus. Ginny was still staring daggers at some part of the representation of herself on the opposite side of the formation that he couldn't see.

Her anger had him taking a better look at the figure before him for the first time. The pool was relatively large and looked like water with a pearlescent sheen of dark green. The roots of the tree grew out of it, though some extended past the edges of the pool and disappeared, leading to some unknown location. Of those, there were numerous, all infused with the greenish liquid, but a few were colored with a mixture of reds and green and looked withered. His eyes were drawn to a rather large one that appeared to be gold and healthy that was also anchored somewhere not within the pool below. He wanted to ask Dumbledore about it, but more importantly, he wanted to know what upset her.

Following the tree up, he could see the magical green spread throughout the limbs and had started coloring the leaves, but that red sheen was also present there. He couldn't find any reason for her to be upset. It looked like a normal tree, as far as he knew, except perhaps that it was a little lopsided, the greenery more dense on his side than on hers.

He scooted closer to her. "Gin?"

"That," she said, pulling him closer and pointing an angry finger, "is not me."

What had been blocked from his view before was now in plain sight. Where the branches began growing from the tree, it looked like the trunk had split and grown into two, except half of it had been cut off. The trimmed section exposed the inner rings, their appearance damaged as though having been fed by something poisonous. Whatever remained of the liquid that once filled the destroyed section had long since disappeared, but the exposed rings were still stained an ugly color that looked like dried blood. The effect of it was still present, whatever it was having contaminated the surrounding areas so that anything touched by the stains grew no leaves.

"That," she said again, sounding less angry now and more shaken, "is Tom Riddle."

Cold washed through Harry and he turned sharply toward the headmaster for an explanation.

"Indeed, Miss Black," Dumbledore said quietly, "but I believe 'was' would be more appropriate to say. That is where he was growing out of your magic and also feeding you with his, but it is clear he is no longer. The destruction of the diary destroyed that part of him in you."

"Explain," Harry bit out. He knew now why she was suddenly the one who was upset, as he felt it too. The diary may have been destroyed, but her magic was not totally unscathed, judging by the damage they could still see.

"What you see here is a mere representation of magic," Dumbledore began immediately. "Magic has no true form, but this particular model, if you will allow the term, displays its essence in such a way that we can understand it. The pool," he said gesturing to the water-like liquid with the green pearlescent sheen, "is indicative of the family magic from which a child's own magical core, what is depicted by the tree, grows. The colors are irrelevant, aside from what they mean to the individual." He gave Ginny a sympathetic look as he continued, "Your pool only contains this green, as the ritual you performed replaced your previous family magic with that of the Black family. I imagine it is green simply because you associate that color with the family."

Ginny nodded unhappily and Harry gave her hand a squeeze to remind her that she wasn't alone. She tightened her grip in return.

Dumbledore politely ignored the exchange, "Under normal circumstances, there would be a swirl of colors in the pool. If you look at the topmost leaves, you can still see hints of red and orange that have yet to be completely lost."

Ginny looked up briefly, but quickly looked back down to the pool. "You said it shows magical connections… So these roots here," she said, gesturing to the reddish roots that stood out to Harry on his first glance because of their unhealthy appearance, "they're my connection to my brothers, aren't they?"

"Yes," Dumbledore replied solemnly. "As your brothers share only a small portion of the Black family magic, their magic cannot thrive in yours as it once did, and therefore have been greatly weakened."

"I see," Ginny replied stoically. Her face was a mask as she stared at the withered roots. She was far too calm for Harry to believe genuine. There wasn't much he could do, except keep the conversation moving.

"What is the gold one here?" he asked, pointing to a particularly healthy looking root. It was connected to her tree from an outside source, but the green tinted magic that belonged to her flowed outward through it, away from her own tree toward wherever it originated. As he looked more closely, he now recognized that there were smaller roots coming from her, these gold as well, that grew off and out of the pool in the same direction that were receiving magic tinted with a deep crimson color. There were half a dozen or so golden roots that were similar in size to the ones that represented her brothers of this variety, but also innumerable smaller ones that were both green and gold and appeared to be new. Though smaller in size, they looked as healthy as the larger one he had first noticed. Some had green magic, others red, and the newest ones had a beautiful combination of the two. Something about the look of them felt comfortable or familiar maybe. "Or those smaller ones there? Why are they different?"

"It is indicative of a life debt, although not of the typical variety, which would be represented by branches, such as the debt Peter Pettrigrew owes you," Dumbledore explained. He continued solemnly, "No, this is much stronger than that. The type of connection here is born when a witch or wizard knowingly risks their life for and as a result is actively dying in the pursuit of preserving the life of another."

Harry looked at the golden root again, the feeling of familiarity it gave him suddenly making sense. It was him. A sideways look at Ginny revealed she was staring at the golden section as well. The anger had been replaced with a wide-eyed look that could have meant anything from awe to terror.

Seemingly oblivious to the realization, Dumbledore continued, "The root grows out of the witch or wizard toward the one they are trying to save. If they are successful, the life debt that occurs feeds the magic of the rescued individual back to their savior in repayment." Thus far, Dumbledore had retained an aura of academia as he explained, but now the look in his eyes shifted to interest and curiosity. "As you have certainly guessed, this large root here is clearly connected to you, Harry, and could only be the result of what occurred in the Chamber of Secrets, when you were both so very near death." Dumbledore paused and turned his inquisitive gaze to Ginny, "What is perplexing, however, is these smaller roots that are very clearly connected to you Miss Black, extended to him, receiving his magic in repayment."

Ginny didn't respond, her previous mask shuttering into place as she looked down at the floor, but something Sirius had said to him in his final letter suddenly clicked.

"Sirius said..." he started, his voice thick at the implication that she had almost died for him, numerous times, and he'd never even known it. Her gaze snapped to his, eyes narrowed, and he had to swallow nervously before he could continue, "He told me that I had no idea how strong you were. That the basilisk didn't fail to kill me by accident. That I owed my survival to you and how much you cared about me."

There was a long moment of silence before she decided to answer. "Later…" she said quietly, looking back at the floor, "much later, after it had all been long over… memories came back to me. I remembered some small part of me waking up whenever he wanted to go after you and fighting back against him as best I could." She paused as a shiver ran through her. "Those were the times I woke hours after passing out, only to find there had been another attack, and that I had no memory of what I was doing at the time." She looked up at them beseeching, "I know that should have been a warning, that I should have known, but I convinced myself it was just the shock."

"There is no reason to feel ashamed, Miss Black," Dumbledore said compassionately. "Tom Riddle was a talented and brilliant young man. He would not have overlooked the possibility that the person whom his diary would eventually use may become suspicious, and likely made sure that you were unable to tell others." He smiled encouragingly at her, "The fact that you could fight him at all is quite impressive. What we see here is evidence that you cared deeply for Mr. Potter, and that you knew the risks you were taking, but chose to do so anyway. It is something to be admired, my dear girl."

Ginny looked away. Harry pulled on their intertwined hands and said softly, "Gin, look at me, please." After a moment, and another tug, she did. The guilt was written all over her face. He met her sad brown eyes strongly. "Thank you," he said fervently.

She stared back, her gaze searching. He knew there would be nothing but sincerity for her to find, as Harry felt nothing less than fierce gratitude and tenderness toward her at the new discovery. She blew out a breath, nodded, and then straightened her shoulders. She looked back to the headmaster. "What about those smaller ones?" she asked, sounding much more composed. "The magic there appears to be evenly spread."

Harry barely had time to see what she meant - the fledgling roots did appear filled with magic that was both hers and his, the crimson and green flowing fluidly through one another - before the image flickered out of existence. He looked quickly at Dumbledore in question.

"I'm sorry," he said tiredly. "It is a complex bit of magic and, though I am fine, I'm still feeling rather tired from my ordeal," his tired voice and sagging shoulders making him look older than ever and more than exhausted. "Getting back to your question, Miss Black, I believe those new ties represent the bonding of your betrothal. By the look of it, I gather that the Black family magic initiated the growth, and the bonding has allowed the two of you to share magic equally across the connection."

Harry wished the image was still present, so that he could look at them more closely. They had been fresh, but so healthy and even beautiful. He knew the colors were irrelevant really, but they had reminded him of Christmas, of what it was supposed to be anyway. Looking at the combination made him think of home, family, and comfort. It was pleasantly surprising, like receiving the perfect gift that you hadn't realized you wanted.

The prospect of their connection had been so disconcerting when Hermione had first explained it, but actually seeing it like that left him feeling nothing but awe and longing. Of everything he had seen in the projection, those roots that contained them both had undoubtedly been his favorite part. It was no wonder to him now that he knew what they meant.

"I'm afraid that's all I can tell you," Dumbledore said. "Until today, I did not know the extent of the magical connection you shared after the events of that year, but it appears as though you were quite well connected before the bond created by your recent betrothal. Perhaps that has made the connection stronger."

Harry sat back in his chair, the tension finally draining from him, and tightened his grip on Ginny's hand. He felt much better now than when he had arrived, satisfied with the information Dumbledore had given them. Ginny did not have an active connection to the Tom Riddle of the past or Voldemort currently and their connection was strong and healthy. There was little more he could ask for at this point in time.

Ginny didn't relax, however. He could tell she was thinking intently about something. Suspicion was there in the tightness around her eyes. When she didn't say anything about it, however, Harry thought it best not to ask at the moment. They would have plenty of time to talk later.

"You said you were coming to visit us in a few days, sir?" she asked, sounding only politely interested, but Harry knew her better than that.

"I did," he answered promptly. "My original intent was to fetch Mr. Potter from his relatives in two days time, once the wards had a chance to be fully charged," he gave Harry a pointed look that the younger boy ignored, "and get his assistance persuading a retired colleague of mine to return to teaching this year. However, since Professor Snape informed me of your new circumstances, I had planned to visit tomorrow to discuss the situation and ask for the assistance."

"Why do you need Harry's help?" she asked with narrowed eyes, no longer bothering to hide her suspicion.

Dumbledore eyed her carefully. The two appeared to have some sort of silent conversation, for he sighed in resignation after a moment before responding. "The man, Horace Slughorn, has resisted all my attempts to tempt him out of hiding and back to Hogwarts."

"Slughorn?" Ginny interrupted. "He was the potions professor when my parents were at school, wasn't he?"

Dumbledore laughed. "Ah, yes. Horace Slughorn did catch your parents in several compromising positions. I regret it was I who unthinkingly shared that fact with your twin brothers. Your mother was not quiet about her displeasure over my slip. I imagine she was rather embarrassed at her sons learning of such an indiscretion, but I digress. Yes, he was indeed the potions professor, and head of Slytherin House, for many years."

Ginny didn't smile, and though Harry was curious what story Dumbledore had shared with the twins that would upset Mrs. Weasley, he was more-so struck by the fact that they were seeking out a potions professor, when he assumed they were trying to fill the always difficult Defense Against the Dark Arts position.

"What about Snape?" he blurted.

"Professor Snape will be taking the Defense position this year." Before Harry could begin his angry outburst, the older man explained, "The Defense position is rather hard to fill at present, with our best and brightest otherwise occupied with the war effort. Furthermore, while Rufus Scrimgeour is not the paranoid man that Fudge was, he still will not hesitate to use the previous Minister's legislation to place his own people in open staff positions if he thinks it will give the appearance of Ministry competence. This could pose a potential problem."

"Why Slughorn though? There must be some reason you're so fixated on him that you're willing to track him down and use Harry to 'persuade' him," Ginny said sourly.

The headmaster paused only briefly before replying, "I believe he knows something that could be of value to both sides of the war. As does he, evidenced by the way he has spent the last several months on the run. Even though Hogwarts could offer him safety, he does not wish to make his allegiances so well known. Never-the-less, Horace has always made a habit of connecting with his most interesting and promising students, those who could prove to be valuable persons to know in adulthood, and I believe access to Harry may be too strong a lure for him to resist."

Ginny's lips thinned in annoyance, a feeling Harry shared. He'd never wanted the attention his name brought. Instead, he asked, "What does he know that is so valuable?"

Dumbledore waved his injured hand in dismissal, the stone of the ring catching the light in such a way that it drew Harry's attention. "Nothing to be concerned about, Harry," he said placatingly. "We shall have time for that later. I was hoping we would be able to start some, shall we say, private lessons this year once term begins. Perhaps once a week, so we don't interfere with your studies."

Harry perked up in his chair. Private lessons with Dumbledore sounded brilliant. He and Ginny would be training in the meantime, but he needed all the help he could get for when the time came to face Voldemort. If anyone could teach him what he needed to know, it would be Dumbledore.

"No." Ginny suddenly said fiercely.

Harry blinked.

The Headmaster looked at her steadily, "Excuse me, Miss Black. What do you mean by, 'No'?"

"I mean no, that's not acceptable," she continued in the same tone. "You may like to hold things close to you, but that's not going to work for us. We need to know everything you know-".

"Gin," Harry interjected weakly. He understood her frustration. Hadn't he himself arrived here in a fit of temper over the information he thought Dumbledore was withholding? But Dumbledore had been forthcoming today, and he trusted that the older man had his reasons this time, and furthermore that they were well-founded.

But Ginny wasn't having it. She cut him off, giving him a fierce look, her brown eyes blazing. "This is my life now too, Harry. My fate. My future. You said it - you saw it - we're in this together and I will not allow us to be caught unaware."

Harry barely hesitated before nodding his agreement. She was right; it wasn't only about him anymore. It was no longer selfless to bend to the will of others for their comfort; to do so now would incredibly selfish on his part, because it affected her too. Ginny's feelings and life, tied as they were to his now, had become paramount.

She turned to Dumbledore, "You may be the greatest wizard alive, but no one is infallible. Even you miss things, important things. I'm not going to be left floundering if something happens to you just because you wanted to be selective in what you shared and when. Harry needs to know what you know now. Not when it's suddenly convenient for you." She gave him a pointed look, and Harry knew what she was not saying. Dumbledore knew Voldemort's true name was Tom Riddle, a fact that could have prevented the debacle of her first year entirely if it had been public knowledge. Just recently, he had known what the prophecy was about and Sirius had died because Harry hadn't.

"Miss Black, I assure you that we have time. I have no intention of dying before I pass along the information necessary for completing this task," he said lightly.

She eyed him dispassionately, clearly not amused. "If you had asked me a year ago who I thought would be dead in the coming months, Sirius Black is the absolute last person I would have put on the list, yet here we are," she said bluntly.

"Sirius, bless his soul, was a brave man, but also impetuous," Dumbledore replied patiently. "He knew he should not have left-".

"All due respect, Headmaster, sir, but two out of the four years I've spent at Hogwarts, you were 'forced out' of and left the castle when you knew we needed you here."

The headmaster's face sagged. He truly looked his age with the weight of his prior mistakes placed upon him so plainly. He looked at Harry and asked, "And what are your thoughts on the matter, Harry? Do you agree with Miss Black's concerns?"

"Yes," Harry replied steadily, meeting Dumbledore's gaze.

As far as he knew, the headmaster had never used anything more than passive legilimency on him, but today he knew from the intensity of the man's stare that his thoughts were being probed for his true feelings on the matter. He remembered Ginny's words about clearing his mind, how surface thoughts could be trailed back to deeper ones. As if in confirmation, he felt his thoughts about that conversation being nudged toward Ginny herself. Instead of fighting back like he would have been inclined to do if it were anyone else, Harry focused on aiding the force by purposefully directing his attention toward thoughts of her. He was committed to their partnership moving forward and didn't want there to be any question about it. Dumbledore needed to know that, aside from defeating Voldemort, she was his priority and he had no intention of leaving her behind.

When Dumbledore finally blinked, he looked exhausted and slightly dismayed, but also resigned. In fact, Harry thought he could feel some of the man's resignation lingering in his own mind as a ghost of his presence there, but he didn't have time to consider it in depth. Dumbledore offered Harry a short nod, just a slight movement to indicate his understanding and willingness to agree to Harry's terms.

"Very well, then," Dumbledore said. "What exactly would you like to know, Miss Black?"

"For starters, I'd like to know how you came to be in possession of Salazar Slytherin's ring, a ring Tom Riddle wore on his own hand fifty years ago, and just what he did to it that your hand now looks like that."

Harry stared at her slack-jawed before turning to Dumbledore. Was he actually in possession of something of Voldemort's? If so, why on Earth would he put it on knowing what kind of tricks the evil bastard was capable of?

Dumbledore looked momentarily surprised before smoothing his expression. With a suspicious degree of calm, he replied, "Unfortunately, that is a tale that will have to wait for another day." Harry scowled at the man in displeasure. "It is not that I do not wish to share the information, but rather that the answer is long and complicated, and I am overdue for a meeting with Professor Snape as it is," he said in explanation. He pulled his wand once more and sent his Phoenix patronus off without a message, so far as Harry could tell.

As if he'd been outside the door awaiting the summons, Snape walked into the room at that moment carrying a steaming goblet filled with golden liquid in one hand and a bowl of something disturbingly slimy looking in the other. His expression turned sour as his eyes landed on Harry and Ginny, though he said nothing.

He tipped his head in respect to the headmaster before asking snidely, "I know how much you enjoy problematic students, Headmaster, but do you think it wise for them to be present for this?"

Dumbledore gave them an apologetic look, "As enlightening as our conversation today has been, I must bid you farewell for now. What is about to occur is unpleasant and will leave me quite exhausted. Perhaps we can convene again tomorrow."

"Alright," Harry agreed. Irritated as he was at the interruption, he did believe the older man was tired. Plus, he wasn't inclined to hang around anywhere Snape was as a general rule.

Ginny openly appraised Dumbledore, making no attempt to hide her displeasure. "Will you be coming to us, or should we meet you here?" she clarified.

"I shall meet you at headquarters. It has been far too long since I visited, it seems," he replied, offering a parting smile that neither teenager returned.