"Bloody hell," Ron whispered. "Thirty?"

"Well I didn't exactly have time to count, but it's a guess," Harry whispered back.

"I don't know how any Patronus could have--"

Mrs. Weasley turned in her seat. "Shh!"

"Sorry," they chorused immediately.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in the second row of chairs in the Weasleys' garden, which had been transformed for Bill and Fleur's wedding. The rhododendrons had been replaced with big, fragrant lilac bushes; near the flowerbeds, a cairn of large stones glistened in the afternoon sunlight as water ran down their smooth surfaces and into a small pool. At the head of it all stood the altar-- a cedar lattice archway, wound with white tulle and purple clematis, and surrounded by magnificent wild apple trees, all bursting with beautiful white flowers.

"What I was trying to say," Ron continued, a little softer, "is that I don't know how any Patronus could have beat that many Dementors."

The string quartet began to play Pachelbel's "Canon," and George appeared at the end of the aisle with Fleur's best friend from her days at Beauxbatons, Amélie.

A smile graced Hermione's face and she deftly slipped her fingers into Ron's. Harry raised an eyebrow. "What's this?"

Hermione giggled. "You haven't told him?"

"It happened just this morning," Ron said, going pink. "Didn't really have time, you know--"

Harry only grinned.

"Anyway." Ron seemed eager to change the subject, now that he was the color of a ripe tomato. "What were you saying?"

"I've done it before," Harry replied. "Fighting off that many with one. But what gets me is that this one was more solid. It busted through my window."

Ron shrugged as Amélie and George took their places. "Who knows."

"Well, they've been breeding," Harry said. "Maybe they've been getting stronger. Maybe--" He broke off as Ginny passed by, leaving a bouquet of that unmistakable flower scent in her wake.

"Maybe you should follow your nose," Hermione remarked pointedly.

Harry sighed, but he barely even noticed Gabrielle and Charlie walk down the aisle, or Bill as he breezed past with an ear-to-ear grin, or even Fleur's grand entrance in an immaculate strapless white satin gown and Muriel's goblin-made tiara. All that existed was Ginny, and the way the pale gold silk of her dress clung to her silhouette; the contrast of her apple-green eyeshadow against her bright red tresses; the halo of light crowning her as the afternoon sunlight set itself like a waterfall over her hair. And before he knew it--

"You may now kiss the bride," said the officiant, and a ripple of cheers rang through the crowd.

"And Phlegm's now family after all," Hermione teased Ron, who responded by punching her playfully on the arm. Hermione flicked him back, and Ginny came to join them.

"Hullo," she greeted them, smiling, and turned immediately to Harry. "Mum told me about what happened at your aunt and uncle's. Are you alright?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"I've never heard of a rock-solid Patronus before. What memory did you choose?"

Suddenly, he was very aware of the heat. He tugged at the collar of his dress robes. "I-- last year, after that final Quidditch match... the first time I kissed you."

Hermione, taking this as their cue to leave, tugged at Ron's hand, and they disappeared to join Charlie and his girlfriend.

"Harry." Her voice was gentle. "I know you think you can save me by pushing me away."

He sighed. "Ginny..."

"Just listen. I've thought about this a lot. And I know that it might be dangerous for us to be together, but-- just like I said before, I don't care." She reached for his hands. "Love saved your life before, you know," she reminded him, a smile on her lips. "Dumbledore himself told you it's the old magic that You-Know-Who overlooks. Maybe a little by your side is what you're going to need to keep going."

Harry smiled. "I'm not going to be able to stop you, am I?"

She thought about that for a second. "No."

"It's going to be dangerous, Gin. I don't know what's out there."

"I know."

"And you're going to have to stay by my side. All the time. If Voldemort sees that you're at the Burrow and I'm somewhere else, he'll put your whole family in danger to get you so he can get to me."

With a grin, Ginny planted a kiss on his cheek. "I think I can handle that."

He laughed, wrapping her up in a hug, and lifted his eyes to the sky. A bird streaked across the sun, and he did a double-take. "No," he whispered.

"What?"

"Fawkes."

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she gazed up into the sky. "I don't see anything."

"I could have sworn--"

A shrill, familiar voice cut into Harry's thoughts. "Potter. I'm glad you're here."

"Professor McGonagall." He brought his gaze back down to earth.

"Are you still planning on leaving school?"

"Yeah," he said firmly. "I am."

A look of disappointment washed over her face. "I wish you wouldn't."

"I just-- I feel like I have bigger things to get done before I can concentrate on my N.E.W.T.'s," Harry said. "You know?"

She patted him on the shoulder. "I know you've got a lot on your plate, Potter. But Hogwarts is where you're safe. You-Know-Who can't touch you there."

"Dumbledore's dead," Harry said plainly.

"It's not a matter of Albus..."

"Then what is it?"

Professor McGonagall paused, choosing her words carefully. "Hogwarts is sort of-- hallowed ground for you, Potter."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's one of those things--"

"Like old magic?" Harry interrupted. "Something Voldemort doesn't know about?"

"Something like that," Professor McGonagall replied.

Hungry for answers, Harry searched her eyes, but they were guarded. "You won't tell me any more, will you?"

She regarded him with a motherly gaze. "When you're ready..."

"I'll know?"

With something like regret in her eyes, she nodded. "Do consider coming back though, won't you, Potter? Nymphadora Tonks has agreed to take up the Transfiguration post, and Eva Wingfield-- I trust you've heard of her, she has quite the reputation as an Auror-- is coming to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Slughorn has also agreed to stay on to teach Potions-- I know he was fond of you."

Harry laughed. "If you're trying to convince me to stay with the prospect of more Slug Club meetings, Professor--"

In spite of herself, Professor McGonagall smiled. "Then forget I said anything about that."

"I'll try."

"And think about it, Potter. You need someplace safe to stay."

"She has a point, you know," Ginny voiced as Professor McGonagall disappeared back into the throng of guests. "Where else are you going to go?"

With a sigh, Harry sank into a chair. "Grimmauld Place," he told her.

"But you hate it!"

"Yeah, I know. But it's mine, after all, isn't it?"

"But--" Ginny sat down next to him. "Hogwarts is so much safer than Grimmauld Place."

"I can make it Unplottable," he protested. "We can cast the Fidelius Charm." He took her hands. "You could be my Secret-Keeper."

Ginny softened. "Harry."

"See, I'll be fine. I don't want to sit at Hogwarts in the middle of all my friends while Voldemort's hunting me--"

"'Arry!" came a squeal, and Gabrielle Delacour appeared, her gold dress swaying as she ran.

"Hi, Gabrielle," Harry replied idly, as Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Eet eez so good to see you," she purred. "'Ow have you been doing?"

"I'm alright."

"But of course-- so busy saving us all, no?" She giggled, and it wasn't the giggle of a nervous first-year, it was the passive sound of a veela putting on her charm.

Ginny snorted, and Gabrielle glared at her. "And what are you doing over here? I was not aware zat ze two of you were friends."

Harry hid a smile. "Oh. Actually, Ginny is my girlfriend."

It took a moment for Gabrielle to absorb this piece of information. "Oh," she sniffed. "I see. Well, zen." And she turned her nose in the air and huffed away.

"She learned something from her sister's example," Harry remarked.

"Snottiness, or seduction?" replied Ginny. She nodded toward a group of Fleur's full-blooded veela cousins, all of whom were busy charming Ron. "I think there are too many of them here today." She shook her head, watching a fully-flushed Hermione drag him away with the assistance of Mrs. Weasley. "So. When are we leaving?"

"Tonight," Harry told her.

"Ron and Hermione are coming?"

"No," Harry said slowly. "I'm not telling them." He regarded her shocked face. "I might not be able to stop you, Gin, but I can stop them."

She said nothing.

Later that night, when everyone's stomachs were full with food and butterbeer and they were fast asleep in their beds, Ginny tiptoed quietly through the house, careful not to make a noise. She'd left a note for her parents on the kitchen table, praying that when she saw her mother next, she wouldn't be dead where she stood. Slowly she opened the back door, latched it carefully, and stole across the gardens, out behind the huge flowering apple trees.

"Ginny," Harry greeted her, wrapped her in his arms, and gave her a kiss. She giggled. "That felt good," he said, smiling. "Let me do it again."

"Spare me," came Ron's voice, shrugging off the Invisibility Cloak. "The last thing I want to see is my sister and my best friend snogging for an hour."

"Ron! Hermione! What are you guys doing here?" He looked down at Ginny, who was still in his arms. "I gave you the cloak so you could sneak out, not so they could follow you."

She grinned up at him. "You think I was going to let you leave them behind?"

"We're coming with you, mate," Ron told him flatly. "Who needs a last year at Hogwarts, anyway?"

"Don't let your mother hear that," Harry said laughingly.

Hermione grinned. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he goes back."

"That's right. I have another mother now."

With a roll of her eyes, Hermione climbed onto her broomstick. "Best get going then?" she said sensibly.

Harry gazed around himself. A stout little gnome stood outlined in the moonlight, happily munching on a very fat worm.

"Harry?" Hermione pressed.

An oddly serene feeling passed over him. "Follow me," he said, mounting his new Supernova, and shot off into the night sky.