The news of Ginny's poisoning seemed, for the first days after the incident had taken place, to make an appearance in every conversation that took place in the school. Some people were shocked and fearful, which seemed to combine with the most recent wave of student-withdrawings the school had suffered, others were mainly indifferent mostly because they barely knew her and others – a group mainly formed by classic 'bad Slytherins' and spiteful young girls helplessly developing crushes on Harry – were pleased.
Over the years Harry had gotten used to the not-so-whispered nasty comments about him coming from Slytherins such as Malfoy's closer group of friends that was formed by Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson and Zabini. Yet, that developed resistance didn't seem to apply to when those comments – though still directed to him – concerned pitying the fact that there was a bezoar in the room to save Ginny in time – each time he heard that, Harry saw himself clenching his fists so one of them wouldn't end up buried in one of their faces. Surprisingly, he hadn't been the one losing it – Izzy had. After a particularly malicious comment about her best friend, she had ended up casting a furnunculus hex on Pansy Parkinson right in the middle of a hallway, hardly caring about the dozens of Slytherins witnessing it or the three days of detention that Snape had given her. Though he'd tried – really tried – to drag Harry along into the accusation, lack of proof hadn't allowed the spiteful teacher to do so…
Romilda had also been another issue to deal with. The three weeks of detention McGonagall had given her for messing with Love Potions – '…an invasion of one's mind and a shameful twisting of a person's feelings that should be seen as a criminal act in the Wizarding World,' Harry recalled the head of his house shouting at Romilda loud enough for all the school to hear– didn't seem to have destroyed her hopes concerning a romance with Harry. Clearly there wasn't a drop of shame in her: she'd started following him everywhere, very eager to know if Ginny was going to be okay because 'she was such a dear friend' and constantly offering him a shoulder to lean on, which he kept awkwardly refusing. It all culminated to an afternoon when she'd had the nerve to try and follow him into the Hospital Wing when he was visiting Ginny and he'd ended up yelling at her – as odd as it seemed coming from him – and telling her with no flourishes whatsoever that there was no chance he'd ever consider going out with her after she'd tried to slip him a love potion. He wasn't sure if it had been pride wounded by him yelling at her or pure heartbreak but, from that day on, Romilda had most definitely left him alone.
Meanwhile, the Order was worried and the meetings had grown increasingly tense since Ginny's poisoning, which had revealed a quiet attempt on Dumbledore's life. The main issue involved the new position Dumbledore should take in terms of protecting himself.
"You need protection, Albus," Mad-Eye advised during an Order meeting taking place five days after the incident with the poisoned bottle of mead at the headquarters that used to be the basement of Lily and James's old house. "Someone tried to kill you – we can't just leave you unprotected. Kingsley has already said he can provide an auror to keep an eye on you. That and having your food tested should do it."
"Thank you, Alastor, but I don't think I want a bodyguard or my food to be tested every time I'm hungry," the headmaster calmly dismissed. "There is no reason for alarm."
"No reason? This is the second time someone tries to kill you this year!"
As he and Mia sat at the long rectangular table around each all members remained, Sirius could swear he saw a vein on Moody's forehead thumping hard, which made him realize just how angry Dumbledore's lax attitude made the former auror.
"Alastor is right at some rate, Albus," McGonagall stated. "Your life is endangered. That is something we can't ignore."
"Everyone's lives are in danger, Minerva. Why should I have someone always ready to protect me when all others don't?"
"You are the head of this movement! The Order needs you," Mad-Eye stated.
The headmaster stood up from his chair, towering over everyone. Sirius noted that his expression, which had been calm until then, had shifted to… disappointment? Sadness? Somethign along those lines. "What I am, my friends, is an old man. And like every man, sooner or later I will meet an end as the human condition dictates. This movement – the Order – doesn't need a leader – it needs people who believe in it. And, sooner or later, the world will have to live without me in it, fight without me in it. So I keep my opinion, Alastor. I don't need extra protection – I will manage on my own as everyone else does."
There was a long moment of silence after his words, during which everyone wondered about the meaning of them – to Sirius and Mia, it sounded like a warning. To which, however, they didn't know. They didn't even want to try and guess.
Mad-Eye was the first one to speak and his tone didn't seem happy at all. "That's plain reckless," he said bluntly as Dumbledore sat back again. "You should…"
A fake cough coming from Snape interrupted him and the former potions master spoke. "If I may, I believe the headmaster is right."
"Of course you do," Sirius mumbled, loud enough for half the table to hear. He had a feeling Mad-Eye mirrored his thought: agreeing with leaving Dumbledore unprotected sounded awfully catty coming from a known 'reformed' Death Eater.
"Sirius," Mia hissed by his side. The look she gave him clearly warned him not to make a scene.
At the opposite side of the table, Snape seemed to ignore him. "As I said, I agree with the headmaster. I'd say not trusting him to protect himself after such a long, fulfilled life is simply insulting."
"I am not insulted," Dumbledore assured. "Though, as Severus is declaring and which I agree with, I like to believe I am capable of handling my own protection."
The discussion went on for several more minutes with a number of other members of the Order stepping in and out of it with suggestions and diplomatic words and, in the end, it was decided that, though Dumbledore wouldn't be getting any extra protection, several Aurors would be assigned to protect Hogwarts and its boundaries for the students' sakes, a matter that Molly had been understandably insistent about after what had happened to Ginny.
Afterwards, as everyone was leaving the headquarters, only Mad-Eye remaining back to argue some more with Dumbledore, Sirius and Mia ended up standing with Remus and Tonks near the fireplace waiting for everyone else to floo away before they did.
"Was it me," Tonks started, her tone inquisitive, "or Dumbledore's speech about the 'world needing to fight without him in it' had a deeper meaning than it showed?"
"Nope, it wasn't just you," Sirius confirmed. "Do you think he's ill?"
"Not ill particularly," Remus responded. "But it sounded to me like he doesn't expect to live through this war."
Mia swallowed hard. "That's not good. Of all people… of all people I think Dumbledore is among those with the largest odds of living. With everything he's done, all the battles he fought. You-Know-Who fears him."
"Well, that's probably why he's trying to get him out of the way," Sirius stated. "Look, maybe we're overreacting, trying to find meanings in his words that are not there. Maybe the guy was just feeling depressed today." How funny was it that even he doubted his own words?
"Maybe," Tonks mumbled, not buying it either. Dumbledore had been acting too odd. And he hadn't seemed depressed at all. Disappointed, maybe. But not depressed. She sighed. "Well, the two of us should get going," she stated, looking up at her husband. "You need your rest tonight – rough night tomorrow."
None of them needed to ask why – full moon would take place in the following night. Despite the shadow that surrounded that occasion for Remus, Mia felt glad that now their friend had someone – his wife – to look after him during such a hard time.
"Your girl is right, Moony," Sirius pointed out. "Go home and just forget this. Tomorrow I'll meet you at the usual place." By usual place, Sirius meant the little country house that had once belonged to Remus's parents, which, beside the Shrieking Shack, was still the safest place for Remus to transform, having a shed that had been built by Remus's father for that sole purpose.
After Remus and Tonks left to their flat, Sirius and Mia followed to their own home and the matter of Dumbledore's words was quickly dropped, though hardly forgotten. Of one thing Sirius was sure – if Dumbledore didn't tell them about it, they'd never have the nerve to ask. All that was left was waiting.
While the members of the Order disbanded to their homes, Harry sat by the side of Ginny's bed in the Hospital Wing along with Ron and Hermione, worrying about more trivial matters, such as the Quidditch team. There was a game in two days and Madam Pomfrey had just told them that not only wouldn't Ginny be fit to play but also she couldn't go to the stadium and watch. They were missing another chaser.
"Dean Thomas is already replacing Katie and he's the only backup chaser," Harry told Ginny.
Ginny grunted. "We should have picked two or three backup chasers just in case," she said, irritably. "Maybe if I work smoothly enough, Madam Pomfrey will let me play." Apart from a persistent lack of appetite and 'slight' lack of strength, she felt perfectly normal – she could be fit for a game with a few strengthening potions and days of training.
"No, she won't and neither will I," Harry told her, surprisingly firmly. "Your health comes first, Gin. That's not negotiable. I'm captain."
Before Ginny could protest, Hermione jumped in her best friend's defence. "I think losing a game wouldn't be as bad as being stuck in the Hospital Wing for another week if anything went wrong," she offered before turning to Harry. "What about Izzy? I've seen her flying at the Burrow. You could ask her to play after her detention is over."
Harry shook his head. "She'll refuse. She doesn't like to play 'real' games – too many rules, she says. Plus, well, she misses more than she scores as a chaser – it's aunt Mia's side of the gene-pool. If anything, she can play a remotely decent keeper when she's inspired to it," Harry said.
"Well, Ron will have to do it, then," Ginny stated, leaning back against the pillows of her bed and crossing her arms.
Her brother opened his eyes wide in disbelief. "Me?"
"Yeah, you. You always played Chaser in those three versus three Quidditch games you used to play with Bill, Charlie, Percy and the twins when we were younger."
"Because Bill and Charlie wouldn't let me be the Keeper," he pointed out before turning to Harry in order to explain. "The game pretty much only had Keepers and Chasers because we didn't own a snitch for a Seeker to catch and Mom wouldn't let us anywhere near Bludgers."
"He was decent enough. His team usually won," Ginny stated.
"Well, the problem is solved, then," Hermione easily declared.
Ron shook his head. "Not so fast – my team usually won because Percy was always in the opposite team and he couldn't score to save his life."
Ginny gave him an accusatory look. "If you weren't such chauvinistic gits and had let me play…"
"You'll never let that go, will you?"
She shook her head and glared some more. "When I'm a professional Quidditch Player and some reporter asks me if my dear brothers supported my love for Quidditch from a young age, I'll be more than happy to respond with a huge 'no'. Still, Ron, you're playing chaser the day after tomorrow. Gotta take one for the team."
Ron groaned but didn't protest. There just wasn't time to organize new tryouts and pick someone remotely good from all the candidates… He'd have to do it, as much as it annoyed him.
"But who'll be the Keeper, then?" Hermione asked, though she suspected she knew the answer.
Harry sighed. "McLaggen." As soon as he said that, there were four simultaneous groans, yet nobody tried to change his mind – they all knew that, as unpleasant as the seventh year might be, he'd been the second best at the tryouts – maybe the best if Hermione hadn't confunded him…
"You'd better tell that git not to warm up to the position," Ron told his best mate with narrowed eyes. "And if I suck as a chaser…"
"… nobody will blame you," Harry assured with a huff. "Our team seems like a patchwork quilt already. Odds are against us, anyway."
Ginny punched him lightly on the arm. "Stop moping, Potter. If we lose this game, we're still on the run for the cup. Next game I'll be there and we'll win."
"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" Harry asked her, half-grinning just as Madam Pomfrey approached Ginny's bed, carrying a glass of a greyish steaming liquid with her.
His girlfriend frowned immediately. "Not again. That stuff tastes like sewage water."
Madam Pomfrey didn't seem amused or insulted, keeping a firm look on her face. "Well, Miss Weasley, if you were brave enough to taste sewage water, I'm sure you'll do just fine with this potion." She handed Ginny the potion and remained by the bed, arms crossed, apparently waiting for her to drink it. "Well?"
With a huff, the redhead took a sip knowing it was hopeless to fight back. As soon as the taste of the liquid touched her tongue, she made a face. The following sips were just as painful and, by the time the glass was empty, Ginny looked absolutely disgusted. The healer seemed satisfied enough, picking up the empty glad and waking away – but not before reminding Harry, Ron and Hermione that they had ten minutes before curfew in order to leave, a fact that all ignored. "I can't believe that stuff is actually appetite-enhancing potion. The taste alone makes me want to jinx my mouth away."
"Doesn't look as disgusting as polijuice potion," Ron commented. "That one tasted like mud."
"Well, you should try this one, then," she said, dryly. "Anyway, where were we before?"
"Ron's playing Chaser, McLaggen will replace him as Keeper," Harry reminded her.
"Right, well, don't let the fact that he's made it into the team get it McLaggen's head. Cocky as he is, it will swell so much people will have trouble flying near him. Then again, his big head might come handy defending the goal posts… Just be careful with him – overconfident prats often end up causing trouble."
"I don't doubt that," her boyfriend agreed as Madam Pomfrey returned, once again reminding them of the curfew.
While Hermione stepped out dragging Ron along against his will, Harry stayed behind a little longer. "Have I mentioned I'm really sorry Madam Pomfrey won't let you play? You're our best chaser."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "We both know you only want me to play because you want someone around to share a victory snog with you as soon as the game is over."
"Well, anything involving victory is unlike this time around…"
"An end-of-game snog, then," she stated.
"How about a goodnight snog for now instead?" he suggested, noting Madam Pomfrey had busied herself messing with the potions cabinet.
Ginny smiled. "I could live with that."
Their lips barely managed to remain together for two or three seconds before the hectic school matron's voice sounded again – great time she'd picked to turn her attention to them again. "Potter! Unless what Miss Weasley is doing to you right now is some sort of mouth-to-mouth reanimation technique because you've stopped breathing, you'd better be out of this infirmary in the next ten seconds before I banish from entering here again!"
He groaned. "We'll resume this tomorrow, then." And then, he headed off.
Two days later, in the morning when the Quidditch game took place, it was clear Ginny had been right about McLaggen: less than thirty minutes into the game, not only had he attempted several times to step over Harry and act as the team's captain but also managed to somehow get his hands on a beater's bat and, while 'showing some moves' to said beater right in the middle of the game, aim a Bludger straight to Harry's head. Accidentally.
After getting over the panic of watching her godson falling down several feet from his broomstick until Sirius had caught him by flying as fast as he could on his broom, Mia, who'd been watching the game from the stands as she did every time Harry played, had become immensely frustrated.
"You know, I feel like I should be surprised when this kind of stuff happens to Harry but, honestly, I don't think I can anymore," Mia told her husband as they stood in the Hospital Wing by the window, leaving Ginny alone by Harry's bed, talking to his yet unconscious form – Ron, Hermione and Izzy had been there earlier until Madam Pomfrey had shooed them away to the Great Hall, saying it was lunch time. "Does that make me an awful mother? Seeing Harry in the Hospital Wing and being annoyed because it happened again instead of desperately begging him to wake up?"
Sirius shook his head – he was still wearing his Quidditch Referee equipment, not having had time to change in the middle of all the confusion. "Of course not. First of all, you know he must be waking any minute. Second, the kid certainly spends more time in the Hospital Wing than anyone else I know – I'd say being annoyed about it is not wrong at all. Besides, we've been here in this infirmary way too many times lately."
"Too many," she agreed. Just in the previous week it had been Ginny. Now, even before the girl was out herself, there was Harry. Again.
"Most of the time it's not even his fault. Trouble does chase him around, as he says…"
"I wonder how this will end," Mia mumbled. She didn't mean the constant visits to the Hospital Wing – she meant Harry's… fate. Because that was what everything was leading up to, right? They knew he was supposed to face Voldemort. They knew one of them would live and the other wouldn't and she wouldn't dare herself to believe Harry wouldn't be the one who lived. But when would it happen? How? Would it be a battle? Or something incredibly sudden like an ambush? And would Harry get hurt somehow? Would other people? So many questions and almost no answers at all. She didn't even know why she was asking them now. Maybe Harry having gotten hurt in a simple Quidditch game had reminded her of his mortality or maybe Dumbledore's rather unsettling words the other day had gotten to her more than she'd realized. She looked up and saw her husband's eyes on her, observing. "What?"
"You'll go mad if you keep thinking of it, Mia," he told her and she didn't have any doubt he knew exactly what was going on inside her head, what she'd meant with her earlier words. It was hard to explain how he knew it. He just did.
"Sometimes I can't help it," she said. "Don't you? Think of it, I mean"
He nodded – he thought of it more than she thought. "Gets me as far as you've gone – nowhere. It doesn't matter what we imagine or try to guess – what matters is that the kid is ready for anything. We're doing our parts; Dumbledore is helping him too with those lessons of his…"
He was so secretive about those lessons, Mia thought. She hoped it was because there was nothing important to say yet – she trusted he'd tell them anything he learned if it was important. Then again, he was growing up, becoming his own person – who knew if the secrecy wasn't just one of the traits that had arrived along with his teenage years.
"You know," Sirius told her, hoping he could change the subject as he looked at Ginny and the still unconscious Harry – the subjects needed to be changed, "a few years ago – or more like a couple of decades ago – I happened to be the knocked out patient with the cracked skull and you were the pretty girl sitting by the side of my bed. If I recall it well, we weren't dating yet."Memories, not sad memories, usually had a positive effect in her mood.
"No, we weren't. I was terrified when I saw it – thought the Bludger had broken your neck," she said with a sigh. "James and I stood outside until Poppy let us in. Then, I stayed here until she kicked me out." Mia managed a small smile. "You're not going to go all cheesy on me and tell me that was the moment you fell in love with me, are you?"
He snorted. "That was one of many. It's safe to say that me falling for you, Mrs. Black, was a gradual process." Sirius turned his face to the younger couple. "I bet she's bullying him awake. Let's listen."
Because Harry's bed wasn't very far away from their spot near the window, Ginny's voice wasn't hard to distinguish if they were silent.
"…don't wake up in the next hour or so, I'm afraid I'll have to dump you," that one had Sirius covering his mouth in order to hide a chuckle. "Really, Harry, it's not me, it's you. Comatose blokes just don't do it for me," Ginny continued playfully. "Maybe I'll give McLaggen a try – he's roguishly handsome, after all, and he's tough enough to put the Chosen One drooling in a hospital bed."
Then, a grumbled response came soon enough. "I'm not drooling."
"Well, look at that," Sirius told his wife with a grin. "It worked. He's awake."
Mia sighed but her lips curled too. "Should we give them a little time alone before checking on Harry?"
Sirius nodded as he observed the young couple speaking in hushed tones. He and Mia modestly turned to observe the view out the window when Ginny started leaning towards Harry in a way that indicated a kiss was about to take place.
"You know," Sirius pointed out, "as teachers we should frown upon displays of affection between students, not turn our backs to them…"
Mia turned to him with an eyebrow rose. "As if you'd ever enforce that thought…"
He chuckled. "Sometimes I just get myself thinking of how the heck I – Sirius Black, likely among the top five on the list of the worst troublemakers this school has met – ended up as a teacher. My teenage self would have laughed his head off if he ever thought of it. Sometimes I feel like mocking myself."
"Technically speaking, the Quidditch Coach and Referee isn't a teacher. More like an instructor or something. But I suppose your point concerns working as a member of the school staff. Having McGonagall as a co-worker…"
"I don't think I'll ever get used to that. Half the time I expect her to fetch me into her office and give me one of her lectures. Well, she did a couple of months ago…," he mumbled just as they heard Ginny calling for them.
"He's awake," the redhead told them with a smile as they approached.
"So we see," Sirius said with a grin, turning to Harry, who was struggling to move into a sitting position. "I know you're always complaining about Pomfrey's rules on limited visiting hours but getting your skull cracked just to spend more time with your girlfriend? That's dedication."
Ginny nodded, covering her heart with her hand, faking commotion. "He shouldn't have."
"Well, you can thank your 'roguishly handsome' backup boyfriend for it," he told Ginny before turning to face his godmother. "In how much trouble am I?"
"For the fact that you've just taken another decade of life from me with this scare?" Mia asked casually. "I suppose we can lay this one's fault on bad luck and McLaggen alone."
Harry groaned. "As soon as I get myself out of here, I'm going to kill him," he said.
"Not so fast, Harry," Mia warned him. "Poppy wants to keep you here overnight to make sure everything is okay. No overexertion. How does your head feel?"
He groaned. "Feels like an idiot threw a Bludger at it."
"I know the feeling," Sirius offered. "By the way, if you're interested, the final score of the game was three hundred and twenty to sixty. I've heard of worse."
"Brilliant," Harry said through his teeth "Really brilliant! When I get hold of McLaggen…"
"I doubt you'll need to worry about it – the rest of the team wasn't happy. They might've dealt with him already," Ginny told him, unable to hide the hint of sick satisfaction in her tone.
"Oh, he'll be dealt with alright. You can bet your money on that," Sirius murmured under his breath, which had Mia turning to him with a suspicious look on her face.
Her eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"
"Me? Nothing. I swear I didn't," he said, lifting his hands up in a display if innocence. "I was here with you the whole time, wasn't I? I promise I didn't do anything." He might have suggested a few ideas to Ron and the two burly beaters while they were visiting Harry earlier, though… Ideas that involved McLaggen's food being spiked with enough Pucking Pastils to have him leaning over the so-called 'porcelain throne' for quite a while… When he looked back at Mia, he noted the suspicious look was still on – she could see right through him in what came to pranking.
"If McGonagal gets a wind of whatever you did…" Mia started.
"Whatever I did? But I've been here with you all afternoon, love."
"I've known you long enough to be aware that you have your ways," she said
As they spent a several more minutes there, talking to Harry and Ginny, their godson's mood seemed to improve bit by bit, mostly after taking Madam Promfrey's potion that had helped with his headache. Soon after, as Ron, Hermione and Izzy joined them back – bringing news of McLaggens's sudden stomach crisis – they saw it fit to leave the group of friends to talk on their own and left to mind their own business at home.
"Well, another crisis solved and all ends well," Sirius said, throwing the bag that contained his regular clothes into a corner just after he and Mia had flooed into the kitchen. The house was completely empty apart from them and maybe Kreacher, he knew. Alex was spending the day with his young friend Darcy in Wales and little Mary was under the care of Arthur and Molly, who were bound to be spoiling the little girl rotten to make up for their nearly empty nest.
"Yeah, all ends well," Mia mumbled. "Do I want to know how you managed to get McLaggen sick of his stomach without leaving my side? Fred and George's products were involved, no doubt."
"I'm afraid I can't claim anything more than the idea this time around," he said with a grin. "Young minds put it into practice. Don't tell me you don't think he had it coming. The git acted like a smartass and ended up knocking Harry out with a Bludger on the head."
She felt tempted to remain quiet but simply couldn't. "Let's hope it teaches him a lesson."
"Let's hope," he repeated, approaching her and resting his hands firmly on her hips. "You look stressed."
"It was quite a fright, Harry getting hurt. Watching it from the stands is worse than from the field, believe me. Anyway, everyone in the Wizarding world is stressed out lately," she replied. "You're stressed too – you just hide it well."
He nodded, knowing there was no use denying it. "Tell you what. Since the house is all ours for the next few hours, how about I go upstairs and run you a bath in that huge tub and we just soak there for a while." He grinned. "See where it leads afterwards."
"We both know where it leads, Sirius," she mumbled, resting her forehead against his shoulder.
He shrugged. "Well, you can't deny that would be a great stress-reliever…"
A/N: Sorry for the lateness again... My exams have just started and I'm drowing in stuff to do. Also, inspiration was low this week... Anyway, tomorrow I have an interview for a Summer internship - gotta get ready, so wish me luck! Feedback is very welcome. Review!