Again, thanks to Alpha Fight Club for their help hammering the prose into shape. Also, thanks go to story-pimp-extraordinaire kmfrank for spotting some mistakes and awkward phrasing. See chapter 1 for disclaimer.


Chapter 2: Order, Order! And Boobs


I was late getting to the meeting--Ginny's comments had meant a change in my plans was in order. She only wanted me after Tom was gone? Fine. I'd get rid of the bastard tonight!

Knowing Sirius's place as I did meant I could tap into his stash. I tossed back a couple Pepper-ups and a Ptolemy booster, then chased it with the not-entirely-legal eyesight fixer he'd scored for me--he'd intended it as a birthday present the summer after he cashed in.

I slipped into my Godfather's old set of dueling armour from the master suite wardrobe. It's customary in pureblood families for the scion to get a set as soon as he comes of age in case of an honor duel or blood feud. Though they didn't exactly appreciate his Gryffindor ways, Sirius's family still had him fitted for a set; pure-blood tradition dies harder than Dark Lords.

The suit was supple black leather with charcoal-coloured overlays of Ukranian Ironbelly hide on elbows, knees, cuirass. I topped it off with a set of high, black boots, polished to gleaming perfection, and Gryffindor's sword at my waist. If I were nostalgic, I'd have noted it was what I wore in the last timeline when I took Tom out.

As I strode toward the double doors to the dining room, I caught some of the voices.

"Always knew Snape was no good."

"Harry's really vulnerable now, Ron. Watch what you say around him."

"Pink is an 'orrible color. Your seester, she would look even more 'ideous…"

"Tonks, let's say you, me, and this bottle of Bordeaux I nicked from Sirius's cellar find us a cozy spot afterwards and play the two-backed, furry beast."

"That Harry, he's a right fine bloke. He and Ginny make a great couple."

"Where's the little twat who called this meeting? I can't wait all night..."

I made a splaying motion with my fingers and the doors banged open, causing all conversation to stop. One thing Tom taught me--make your entrances count.

I stepped into the now silent Hall, the tapping of my footfalls echoing loudly on the marble floor, as I made for Albus's former spot at the table. On the way, I fixed Hestia Jones with my gaze, feeding a bit of magic into it. "I called this meeting, Jones, and you'll forgive me that I was taking care of a few things first." She swallowed heavily. Nice rack on her, but something about her nasal voice just grated—Hessy was the kind I wouldn't kick out of bed, but wouldn't make breakfast for either.

I tossed a cloth sack onto the table, where it landed with a clatter. "Let's get started. With Albus gone, our first business is choosing a new leader. I nominate the only one here who is suitable: Me."

That went over well—like a troll fart in an lift.

The outrage died down slightly when Moody clomped up next to me. Looking me over with his good eye, he cleared the top layer of gravel from his throat. "Potter. You look the part and I don't exactly oppose your joining the Order, but I don't see a phoenix on your shoulder."

I gave him a curt nod and closed my eyes, sending out a feeler to that pink marshmallowy place where phoenixes live.

/Oi Fawkes, think you can drop in for a sec./

I got the bird equivalent of a rude hand gesture.

Murmurs in the room. I closed my eyes and called to him again. /Okay, listen, you smouldering sparrow, I've apologized about earlier. I'm really sorry, okay? Now I need you here--I'm giving you until the count of three, then I break out The Voice. One. Two.../

A ball of flames appeared directly in front of me, a bit larger and hotter than normal, and my eyebrows singed. The red-gold imperial bird delivered an annoyed squawk and refused my offer of an arm, instead opting for the tabletop, where he traipsed through the plate of potatoes and sausages Molly had made for me. I idly wondered how she'd known I was hungry or, for that matter, how I knew the plate was for me.

I guess I should clarify about the Phoenix Lord thing. I can't "talk" to phoenixes exactly, I just know what they say and I know they seem to understand me. When I really want, I can command them, though it gives me a horrible headache. Occasionally, we can exchange visions, but usually we just converse. In the last timeline, Albus's portrait and I worked out that my power is the prophesized "Power he knows not."

Last timeline, Fawkes and I bonded just before my seventh year and became fast friends. Sitting on my shoulder in the last battle, he flashed me out of more than my share of Killing Curses. Somehow I don't think he'll quite have my back this time around.

I stared back at the bird, unblinking. Rule Number 1 around phoenixes: never show weakness.

In my head, I went through my confidence-boosting mantra: "That's right, I'm Harry-Fucking-Potter: Phoenix Lord, Order of Merlin First Class, Captain of the Auror Special Strike Force, Dark Wizard Slayer--fifty-seven confirmed kills, including the Parselbitch himself. Twice. I'm a badass who defines the term 'excessive force.' I don't take crap from anyone."

Except for the Zippo pheasant, apparently. Fawkes remained singularly unimpressed.

I tried to establish détente. /Look, Fawkes, I can trot out The Voice, or we can do this right. I know we started out on the wrong foot.../ He ruffled his feathers and turned his back to me. /Just pop up on my arm a sec--I need to establish myself as Leader of these tossers, take care of a couple things, and then after tonight, you can go off and watch your phoenix sitcoms or whatever it is you do./ Fawkes trilled an angry note and lowered his head, challenging. I gave him a low growl. I'm no animagus--my form's a chipmunk, so I never bothered to learn it--but grown men (and nancy-boys like Malfoy) have been known to wet themselves at my growl.

The bird ruffled its feathers and hopped up onto my arm, looking bored. Minnie tutted at me like I was losing it and I could tell the others weren't far behind. I turned to address the Order before he changed his mind. "As I was saying, I'm Phoenix chosen. According to the bylaws of this august Order, that means I'm calling the shots now...."

A long fart from the flaming robin punctuated my statement--and here I thought Hagrid's were bad. Fawkes disappeared in a flash that ignited the gas and I was left in the middle of a fireball. Peachy. I looked over--at least the twins were enjoying the show. Fart humor always went over well with them.

I froze the flames, having to pump a bit more juice into the spell than I normally do--extinguishing phoenix fire takes a bit more than puffing out a candle in Flitwick's class.

/You want it rough, Fawkes? Fine. AS PHOENIX LORD, MARKED BY FIRES OF OLD, I HOLD DOMINION OVER SPRITES OF FLAME. I SUMMON THEE, FAWKES, TO ME!/ Hey, I didn't choose the lingo. "Here boy" doesn't do the trick. Believe me, I've tried. Whoever made the rules for this Phoenix Lord rot was a stickler for formality.

Lovely. And now I had a migraine. Using The Voice across dimensions is heavy stuff, the only consolation being that I knew it was probably about ten times worse for him.

The Order had crept back, knowing that something big had just happened--I usually glow when I break out the heavy artillery—and they were looking at me strangely. Moony cocked his head like he was trying to figure something out. Hermione bounced in her seat like her bum had been cursed. Ron was giving her a goofy look--not sure what that was about or whether it had anything to do with her problems sitting.... Dung scratched thoughtfully at his filthy hair as his other hand pocketed another piece of Black silver. Ginny's expression was an enigma--I hoped it was admiration, though I'd have settled for horniness. I flashed her a cheeky wink, earning a cluck from Molly, and she looked away.

The phoenix arrived with a whimper amidst a timid puff of smoke and he tumbled backward, landing in my plate. Sitting up, he ruffled his feathers and tried to recover his dignity--or at least as much as he could while wearing a skullcap of mashed potatoes.

"You and me, bird, we're going to have some words later."

Fawkes ducked his head, angry but pliant. I left him scraping my dinner from his feathers as I addressed the Order. "As I was saying, as Phoenix Chosen, I am the natural leader of the Order. We have a lot of ground to cover, so I propose we get started." Over Ron's and Hermione's protests, I gave the Order a run-down of the Horcrux situation.

"Bloody hell, Harry, what you're saying, it's, it's impossible..." Tonks said, her hair turning Weasley orange, then puce.

Hermione interrupted, standing, "Not impossible, Tonks. Why Harry and Professor Dumbledore almost destroyed a Horcrux a few days ago. I've been reading all about them." I raised an eyebrow, wondering where she could have found anything to read on Horcruxes. "I've come up with a list of possible items and cross-referenced it with likely locations where a Horcrux might be. I think that if we split up our efforts, we may be able to find one soon...."

"Um, about that, Hermione," I said, picking up the bag from the table. "In my spare time today, I've taken the liberty of identifying all of the Horcruxes and, well, destroying a couple of them." Her jaw dropped and I continued with a shrug, "Seemed like the thing to do at the time." I tossed the ruined tiara onto the table, where it landed with a chatter. "Ravenclaw's diadem." I followed with the next item. "Slytherin's locket. Albus already did Peverell's ring and I took care of the diary second year, so that just leaves Hufflepuff's cup, Nagini, and the Dark Wanker himself."

The twins nudged each other, mouthing "Dark Wanker" and giggling. Sometimes I wonder about them.

I closed my eyes and sent a mental picture to Fawkes, who ruffled his feathers, glared at me, then flamed out. He returned a moment later to drop a heavy, pewter cup onto my head. I snatched it from the air, burning my fingers in the process, and placed it on the table, where it scorched the wood and sent up wisps of smoke.

"Thanks, Fawkesie lady."

He chattered at me angrily. Clearly not a Hendrix fan.

"Well, yeah I knew it'd burn. It was in Bella's vault, after all."

A loud squawk and more angry chattering.

"Um, maybe because you're immune to fire?"

He sniffed and hopped to the other side of the table.

"Harry?" Bill asked, looking pale. "Did you just nick that from a vault at Gringotts?"

I nodded as he collapsed into his chair, muttering something about tracking charms and losing his job.

"Might want to cover your ears." I drew Godric's sword and stabbed the blade to the hilt through the rim of the cup. A fierce wind started to blow in the dining room of Number 12 as the dying fragment warbled. I struggled to keep hold of the blade as inky blackness crept out of the cup and coated my wrist and arm. I pushed a torrent of magic into the blade, which intensified the screams. As I felt myself gaining the upper hand, all the glassware in the room shattered. My body glowed brilliantly for in an instant, then all became silent.

Breathing heavily, I sheathed the sword and wiped the sweat from my brow. "Only Nagini now."

"Bloody hell, Podder!" Charlie said amidst the murmurs, his nose still swollen from our encounter earlier that evening. "You've done that three times today?"

"Yeah, but this one was pretty easy. You should have seen the locket--it really kicked my arse."

I closed my eyes and sent an image of what I wanted to Fawkes. He responded with an vision of dropping me into the North Sea. I sent the image again, followed by a metaphorical still of a phoenix being forced to wear pink ribbons and a pretty little bow. He sent me one of dropping a vat of acidic dragon piss onto my head, then flamed out.

A few seconds later, he returned and perched upon the back of my chair, ruffling his feathers importantly. "Did you get her, Fawkes?"

Fawkes, indignant, hissed and sent the mental image to me, then hopped over to my plate and started devouring my sausages.

"Nice one." I turned to the Order. "Nagini's dead--Fawkes dropped her into a volcano. That just leaves Riddle." And me, of course, but I wasn't about to bring it up. There's no way I could deal with the Horcrux in my head tonight. Besides, the only real danger, as I saw it, was if Tom's followers somehow managed to use me for another ritual. Since I wasn't planning on leaving any alive to try, it seemed an acceptable risk.

I addressed the Order. "Okay. I propose we all take a short recess while I go kill Voldemort. Oh, and Arthur?" The man looked up at me in surprise as I winced inwardly--I'd forgotten that the last time around we weren't on a first-name basis until after Ginny and I were married. "Er, I mean, Mr. Weasley?"

He recovered from his initial shock. "Arthur's fine, Harry, What do you need?"

I knelt before the man, head bowed, in accordance with tradition. "I was wondering, sir, if I might have your permission to court your daughter."

Ginny gasped as Molly bellowed, "Absolutely not! Arthur..."

The five Weasley brothers chorused, " That Harry, he's a right fine bloke. He and Ginny make a great couple." Did I mention I overdid it on the Obliviate programming?

"Okay, that's just a little bit creepy," Tonks muttered, eying me suspiciously.

Arthur looked at me with confusion, barely noticing the rant Molly had started about how I was not a nice enough boy for her daughter. He patted her arm. "Molly, I'm the head of the family." He turned to me. "Harry, you have my permission to court Ginny--provided you behave yourself," then added as an afterthought, "After you kill You-Know-Who." He turned back to Molly with a smile. "That better, Mollywobbles?" Her red face indicated that it was anything but.

"Right," I said, arresting her rant and cracking my knuckles. "Okay, I'm off to Hawaii to take care of that. Wish me luck."

"Wait!" Hermione said, rushing forward and clinging to me desperately. "Harry, you can't go alone! It's suicide!"

I lifted her chin and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Hermione, you're a good friend. Trust me--this is the only way." We exchanged a lingering hug, stopping only when I noticed the stormy look on Ron's face. Ginny didn't look so bothered though--odd, that. I considered giving Herms's bum a quick grope for luck, but thought better of it.

I looked over at Fawkes, who was gulping down another of my sausages. /Yo Fawkes, what do you say we end this?/

He sniffed in annoyance.

/Seriously, with Tom gone, I won't need you anymore and I promise to leave you alone./ With a sigh, he nodded, hopping back across the table and fluttering to my outstretched hand. He locked his beady black eyes on mine and we exchanged a flurry of images as we planned our next move. With a brief trill and another incendiary burst of flatulence, he disappeared. I Disapparated, leaving in my wake a deafening crack and a blaze of phoenix napalm.


I arrived at the rim of Mauna Koa and immediately threw up my strongest anti-Apparition and anti-Portkey wards, as well as a force field above the wide pool of smoking lava. My body rimed as I applied a high-powered cooling charm and followed with a Disillusionment. I cracked my neck in anticipation of the battle. On the rocks beneath my feet was the charred tail of a giant snake, the bulk of its body and head having been consumed by flame. I kicked the remainder of Nagini into the pool and watched it burn with no small amount of satisfaction.

In a flash, literally, Fawkes appeared with Voldemort in her clutches, trousers by his ankles, giving us a glimpse of more of the Dark Lord than I'd wanted. He was hissing in Parseltongue as Fawkes dropped him headlong into the pool of lava and flew back toward me.

A few centimeters above the surface, Tom arrested his fall, righted himself, and hovered. Shit. I'd forgotten he could fly.

"Potter," he spat, casting a detection spell that blanketed the area. My form glowed brightly for a moment, just long enough for a pair of red slits to lock onto me. "Avada Kedavra," he rasped, green light jetting from his wand.

Fawkes, positioned directly between us, turned and, with wide eyes, saw the curse bearing down on him. With a puff of flame, he disappeared and reappeared behind me.

"Thanks," I muttered as a wave of my wand brought a wall of lava up to intercept the curse. It slammed into the crusted yellow barrier and splashed molten rock all over me, my armor and skin sizzling despite the cooling charm.

A Cruciatus followed, and then another Killing Curse, both of which were absorbed by more lava. A second, brutal Cruciatus drove me to dodge. Rolling out of my lunge, I banished a large boulder at him, then snapped my wrist to send a second into the pool near his feet, splashing a wall of molten rock up onto him. He conjured a shield of ice to protect himself, which exploded in a "woof" of steam as it met the lava.

I used the diversion to gather my magic to me. Whatever I did would have to be good--my reserves were taking a beating as Tom tore at my wards in an attempt to flee--and I didn't like my chances with him in a straight-up fight.

I formed a clear image in my mind of what I wanted, just as Minerva had always taught, and conjured something above my enemy. Something big. Really big.

The hulking form dropped downward, as if driven off a cliff. Sensing something amiss, Voldemort looked up just as the grille of a twenty-tonne lorry smashed into his face with a crunch of bone. An instant later, the two of them plunged into the hellish pool. As his head dipped below the surface, red eyes glinted at me with a look of utmost hatred.

A few seconds later, the petrol tanks ignited and an explosion spat more lava out of the pool. Still no sign of my adversary.

Several minutes later, I nodded my head and saluted my fallen foe with my wand. Or maybe it was my middle finger.


Exhausted and still smoking from where gobbets of magma had splashed on me, I Apparated back to Headquarters. I suspect I didn't look all that great, the lava and sulphur having done a number on my skin and clothing, but that didn't matter--I'd done what I'd come back for.

Without a word, I strode up to Ginny, gathering her in my arms, and I gave her a hungry kiss, one into which I poured all the sorrow and need I'd built up over a decade of solitude. She returned the gesture, though without the same level of urgency. I had hoped to feel a bit of passion across our Bond, but it just wasn't there--rather, I felt vague sense of annoyance at the public display. Setting her petite body back down, I searched her warm brown eyes for affection, which was present, but I also found hesitancy and doubt.

Calypso's crack, I'd just killed Voldemort for her!

She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. "You stink, Harry."

Fred and George, exchanging a glance, stepped forward. George cast some cleaning charms and Fred did a spell I didn't recognize, one which caused my apparel to glow faintly with a periwinkle hue.

I turned to address the others. "Voldemort is dead. We still need to take care of the Death Eaters, but I'd like to bring to the floor a motion that we've covered enough this evening and that the rest can wait until our next." Remus seconded the motion and it carried soon after.

The commotion that followed was pretty intense--I had to endure a long string of incredulous questions on how I did it and whether I was, indeed, certifiable. I eventually resorted to dumping my memories into Albus's pensieve and giving guided tours of Tom's final moments and his brief, rather one-sided debate with the lorry. Amelia showed up not long afterward and made a copy of the memory, which she took back to the Ministry with Arthur.

Fred and George approached a moment later. "If it isn't ickle Harrikins, slayer of evil wizards," George said, as I started to feel uneasy.

"Aye, brother of mine," Fred said, feeling my bicep. "A tough one, our Harry. Good with his wand. And good with the ladies too, no doubt."

"And the memory charms. Don't forget those," George said. I swallowed heavily.

"How could I forget--oh, wait, I know how." Fred tapped his temple. "Memory charm, you know."

"That Harry, he's a right fine bloke. He and Ginny make a great couple," they said in unison, rolling their eyes and looking decidedly unamused.

Bill approached with a grimace, "The thing about memory charms is that once someone knows they've been charmed, they're dead easy to undo, especially for a professional curse breaker."

"Right you are," Fred said, polishing his nails on his shirt. "In fact, professionals such as we find they may even be easier to undo than, say, bruises all over one's body."

"Or possibly clothing on one's body." George said to his brother with an obvious wink. Then, in darker tones, "In fact, were I to get my hands on the ass-mangler who..." he trailed off as Molly approached with Ginny.

Bill moved to where he could whisper in my ear. "Joking aside, Harry, I saw what's in your head. You'd better treat Ginny well or you'll be hearing from us. Be sure of that." He gave me a long stare as the twins made low, fake bows, kissed their mother on the cheek, and left the room.

I looked over at Ginny, who seemed a little uncomfortable, and I decided to take the initiative. "Um, I'm sorry about before with the kiss, Gin. I guess I got a little carried away." Molly sniffed in the background.

"That's okay, Harry," she said. Normally I considered her pouts endearing, but for some reason I found it annoying and juvenile now.

"So, with Voldemort gone, we can we start dating, right?" I asked, hopeful.

Ginny answered with silence, staring at her feet. Why couldn't I sense anything from her through our Bond?

"Ginny, dear," Molly said, her features softening as she took in my distress. "Harry deserves an answer."

"I never expected you'd do it so bloody fast!" she shouted. "I mean, you were supposed to take a year or more to kill Voldemort. Not an evening. I'm not ready, Harry--I haven't had time to think."

"Ginny, language," I said, beating Molly to it. Where the hell did that come from?

Tears fell down her cheeks. "Something's changed and I don't know what. I don't know if I even l-love you anymore.... Harry, I like Colin, I really do. And the more I think about it, the more I feel like maybe my feelings for you have been affected by my Life Debt or something... something I don't feel anymore." She took a deep breath. "I just don't know if we're right for each other in the long run," she said, turning and running away.

"Ginny, dear..." Molly called after her, then turned back to me, her features softening as her expression evinced understanding and sympathy, like she used to so many years ago. "Harry, give her time. It's been difficult for her."

I nodded, dejected, leaving the room and heading upstairs to be alone with my thoughts and perhaps a bottle. Half-way up, I heard a sizzling noise as my clothing disappeared, leaving me dressed in just the wand holster on my wrist and the sword belt about my waist. I just sighed and trudged on, past the alcove where a now extraordinarily hairy Tonks was straddling Remus, past the second floor landing, where Charlie and Hessy were going at it like a pair of nasal kneezles. Past the third floor, where I caught part of Hermione's stern lecture about proper lubrication of her bum. I entered my room on the fourth and grabbed a robe from the bureau. Seconds after it drooped over my shoulders, it, too, fizzled and disappeared.

With a sigh, I turned down the lights and lay upon the bed. Tired as I was, sleep did not come quickly.


Terror grabbed me by the balls and I awoke with a start. In the back of my mind was the knowledge that my Bond-mate was frightened and hurt. Someone was going to pay.

I reached for my wand from beside the bed, and slid on some boxers, which disappeared in a quiet fizzle. Peachy. I quietly thanked the twins that I'd be going into battle "commando" in more ways than one.

I Apparated silently to the Burrow, arriving in Molly's garden, where I'd have cover from the hedgerows. I noticed a small circle of black-clad intruders surrounding a crumpled, red-haired form in the dewy grass. One of them was unmasked, her jet hair flaring wildly about her head, her dark eyes wide with rage and insanity.

"YOU BITCH!" she screamed, giving the whimpering form a high-heeled kick. Seconds later, another unmasked Death Eater--Lucius Malfoy--arced a Torture curse at Molly, the crimson glow lending his face a devilish look.

He held her for several seconds under the curse, Molly's pain so intense that I could almost feel it myself. I silently raised anti-Apparition and anti-Portkey wards as I awaited my chance. "Again, blood traitor, I ask you, where is Potter? I very much wish to enquire what became of our Dark Lord and my sources tell me he had something to do with it."

I stepped closer and sent a silent cutting curse at Malfoy, gutting him from groin to chin, overpowering the spell a bit so that the force of the spell blew him onto his back and turned him partly inside-out.

Moving quickly to the right, I caught Bella in the neck with a bone-exploding curse, a favorite of mine for nighttime fighting, as the invisible bolt allowed me to keep my cover. A third--Pettigrew, by his build--was consumed by my collagen-dissolving curse, coming out as a hot-pink "splut" of light, a hyped-up cousin to what the muggles call "flesh-eating virus."

By now, I was down to six opponents, including an oily one who moved with familiar sibilant grace--Snape. But my cover was blown, as evinced by the Killing Curses that screeched by too close for comfort.

"Now that's darned rude!" I shouted, getting into a rhythm of bobbing, weaving, and kneecapping.

No-Names One and Two promptly lost their legs below the hips from a nasty shredding curse I like to call, "Rocks in a Box." I ratcheted up the offensive. Three's cranium was crushed by an engorged garden gnome whom I directed with an Imperius. Four immolated in blue flame from my deflection of Five's incendiary curse. Five tried to Apparate away, but I nicked him with a Confundus just as he did, which caused him to splinch badly. That just left the grease monkey and me. Goody.

"Potter," he sneered, casting his trademark Sectumsempra. I swatted it away and returned an overcharged bludgeoner--even if he'd blocked it (which he did), it was even money that he'd break his forearm in the process (which he did as well).

"Snape," I said with a hint of a smirk. He switched his wand to his left hand with a look of surprise. "Not finding it quite so easy to eavesdrop on my thoughts?" I sent a silent bone-breaking curse at him, which he barely managed to dodge. With his left hand, he extracted a ceramic vial from his robes and girly-threw it at me.

With a thought, I stopped the vial in mid-air between us. "Let me guess, Snape, you were one of the last ones picked on the playground..."

He sent a dark stunner my way. Before countering his spell with my shield, I flicked my wand and the vial tumbled over his shoulder, where it landed upon the ruin that used to be Malfoy. White wisps of vapour surrounded the corpse, which began to shudder and animate.

"An entrail-extruding draught? For me, Sevvie? You shouldn't have." I fluttered my eyelashes at him, relishing the effect it would have--I've got Mum's eyes after all--and he growled a blasting hex my way. I deflected it and countered with a long sequence of monosyllabic curses, mostly blunt force trauma-dealers, that battered his lefty-shield and put him on his heels.

He continued to chatter as he threw a series of increasingly desperate curses at me. Cast with his left hand, they were easy to dodge as I closed the distance between us. "No matter, Potter." A dark organ-decaying curse. "Like your father..." A lung-collapser. "You've little talent for real fighting." Cruciatus. "Nor the stomach for doing what must be done." An eyeball liquifying curse. I was really close now. I dodged and planted a kick onto his left hand, snapping his wand.

I raised my own to his unprotected chest and, meeting his eyes, I thought, "Avada Kedavra" in my head. He gasped, having read my thoughts, and I winked at him. "Psych!" Then I slugged him in the nose. As Snape staggered back, I caught him with a tripping jinx and he fell into the animated goo that used to be his colleague. A moment later, Malfoy's intestines looped around his neck and he was pulled within the cloud. It wasn't as elegant as how I'd iced him the last time around (which, among other things, involved his taking jackhammers in two orifices), yet still strangely satisfying.

I ran over to Molly and picked her up, her whimpering face leaning into my bare chest. I sprinted to the Burrow, where a sharp kick opened the door, then laid her upon the kitchen table and started in with stabilization and healing charms. She was hurt, but not badly and would be okay in a few minutes.

"Harry, clean yourself please," she whispered from her healing trance. "I don't want to have to clean blood out of the carpet tomorrow." I Scourgified, then searched through the Bond for status of my beloved. I felt my bond-mate in pain, though less so than before.

Praying I wasn't too late, I bounded up the stairs to the first landing and pounded on her door, hoping against hope that she was alive and safe inside. A moment later, a yawning redhead in a thin nightgown answered the door.

"Ginny!" I shouted. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" I heard the Floo flare below--Arthur was returning from the Ministry, no doubt having gotten word of the attack.

"I sensed something was wrong and I came here as soon as I could. I just killed a bunch of Death Eaters outside. Are you sure you're okay?" I looked her over, confused as to why I had thought her injured. Molly and Arthur started speaking downstairs and I heard Ron stir from the floor above.

"Of course, Harry."

"It's just that, well, I was worried about you because..." I took a deep breath, knowing what I had to ask, and placed my hand on her chest over her heart. "Ginny, do you feel something... special between us?"

"Besides your hand and my boobs?"

I nodded, as Molly and Arthur started up the stairs from below. Ron, still groggy with sleep, was thundering down the stairs to our landing. "Yeah. A bond of sorts that ties us together? Anything?"

She thought for a moment, scrunching her brow. "No, Harry. Nothing like that. Maybe I felt something before, but not any more."

"Harry James Potter, you will take your hand off Ginny's bosom this instant!" Molly yelled.

I turned, remembering that I was nude and noted the placement of my hand and the skimpiness of her summer nightdress. The reaction was as obvious as it was instantaneous. "Um, I can explain..."

"Harry, remember what we agreed upon," Arthur said, his face stony. "You said you would behave around Ginny."

I swallowed, nodding.

"I retract your permission to court my daughter," he said, with an air of finality.

"Dad, Harry's a right fine bloke. He and Ginny make a great couple," Ron said.

"Shut up, Ron," Ginny, Molly, Arthur, and I chorused.

Before I could Apparate away, Molly hit me with a Saltpeter hex, curing me of at least one annoyance, and Arthur sent a stinging hex at my arse. I Disapparated just as Molly wondered aloud about why her bum hurt all of a sudden.

Arriving back at Number 12, I angrily threw my wand onto the stand beside my bed. After a long time, during which I listened to a tinny argument in the back of my mind, I started to doze off.

"Potter..." A familiar hiss inside my head woke me. "I did not realize you were a Horcrux."

Damn.