Disclaimer in Chapter 1.
Chapter XVII: Borrowed Time
"I assume, Mr. Cameron that your presence here means you are fully aware of the situation that has been developing in the last two weeks." Sirius was understandably cautious with his words, as the Winters case was still being kept under wraps, even to David Cameron.
"Of course I'm aware. I wouldn't have come to you if it weren't the last option on the table." David couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice. He had left this office in a blind rage over two years ago, vowing never to return no matter what the cost. Well, he had finally found a cost he was not willing to pay. "Every single family involved with the old Matthias Winters case has been targeted and killed, except for mine. If it were just my life in danger, I'd go into hiding. But my daughter..." His eyes were desperate and fierce. "I know we didn't part on the best of terms, but I'm begging you. Don't let him take my daughter. I can't lose her, too..."
Sirius regarded the man quietly for a moment, and then said, "You know I never blamed you for leaving the team, David. You had just lost your wife to that madman. You were the only one who really understood who we were up against, though, and as much as I hate to ask this..." he trailed off, gauging his reaction to the unspoken question.
With an imperceptible smile, Mr. Cameron nodded. "I knew you would. My daughter is the only thing I have left in the world. If you can promise to keep her safe, I'll do everything in my power to find Dr. Winters' son."
The Auror smirked. How like David Cameron to know who they were up against even though no publicity had been given to the string of murders that had been occurring almost daily for the past two weeks. Sirius had only just briefed Harry on their new threat, and the man that was responsible for kidnapping the Boy who Lived right under their noses: Dr. Lucas Winters. David always had a knack for getting into people's heads. It's why Sirius had picked him to head up the team in charge of locating Dr. Matthias Winters for Harry. Now he was volunteering yet again to immerse himself in the madness of the Winters family. It was a sacrifice that could not be taken lightly.
Mr. Cameron turned and opened the door, admitting a very pretty young woman with long, wavy brown hair and her father's strikingly blue eyes. "This is my daughter, Samantha. Samantha, this is Sirius Black. He worked with me a few years ago on the Winters case, remember? He's going to make sure you stay safe while we find Dr. Winters' son."
Samantha's eyes landed on the Auror and lit up excitedly. "You're Harry Potter's godfather, aren't you? Do you think I could meet him? Is he here?" She looked around his office, her smile growing wider as she noticed all of Harry's commendations.
With a wolfish grin, Sirius said, "Oh, I have the perfect bodyguard for her... Just let me sign her school transfer papers. She'll start next week."
As Harry finished yet another morning entry in his new self-reflection journal, he found himself wondering not for the first time what its purpose was. Ginny had urged him to start writing down his thoughts and feelings; she said it would be an emotional outlet to keep him from breaking down at a bad time, like in a combat situation. He had always been taught to ignore his emotions. They clouded his judgment, wasted his mental sharpness. His training had served him well up to this point, but her reasoning was sound: if he had any chance of properly integrating with society then he would need to become more aware of his own emotional state.
So he carried around a leather-bound field notebook and wrote in it whenever he had a particularly strong thought or feeling. It was an interesting psychological exercise, and Ginny thought he should do it. That was enough for him.
He had nearly finished proofreading his previous day's entries when the youngest Weasley barreled into him, wrapping him in a tight hug. "Good morning!" she whispered cheerfully, keeping her voice down for the sake of all the sleepy children at the tables. Her eyes caught his field notebook as he shut it hastily. "What are you writing, Harry?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
Harry tucked the notebook away as he answered, "This notebook contains my self-reflections for the past two weeks, I have been recording every strong thought and emotion as it occurs, along with minor background details that may assist me in synthesizing all pertinent information, as instructed."
Ginny blinked in awe. It never failed to amaze and humble her when she thought of how serious he was, how much weight her suggestions carried with him. She had mentioned in passing that keeping a journal could help keep him from experiencing any more breakdowns like the one in the Room of Requirement. It just wasn't healthy to bottle up all his emotions like that! And of course, he did exactly that. She hugged him again on impulse, then picked up her fork and prepared to dig into her breakfast. "Thank you, Harry."
He shook his head but otherwise remained silent, and the two of them ate peacefully for several long minutes. Ginny really wanted to read what he wrote, partially as payback for him reading her diary (which she was quite comfortable with, absurdly enough. She just wished he would've asked first! So what if they weren't on exactly on speaking terms at the time?), but mostly just because she was insanely curious what he had written. Was it about her? Merlin knew that she wrote enough about him, would his journal read the same way? That settled it; she was going to get that journal. Time to give the boy wonder a taste of his own medicine!
Harry watched with interest as the gears turned in Ginny's head. She wanted to read his journal? That seemed logical, since he was writing the journal by her request. With her far greater experience in this area she was bound to have helpful suggestions and areas for improvement, to say nothing of her abilities to synthesize emotions he was only now learning to deal with. He'd gladly have given it to her if she asked. Why was she treating such a basic request so secretively and getting so excited about it? She was treating it almost like a mission, in fact.
His godfather used to play games with him, games with no set structure or time limits, where he'd have to learn and adapt to receive his reward. Sometimes he would steal Harry's breakfast first thing in the morning and make him steal it back or suffer with no food, sometimes he wouldn't be allowed to return to his room after a long, hard day of training until he'd beaten him in a duel. To him, it represented a great courtesy. It represented the fact that his Godfather respected him enough to teach him a very important lesson: whatever you want in life, you'll have to pave your own way to it. You didn't simply receive money, shelter and food for nothing. You had to earn your place in this world, and you had to fight to keep that place.
Since she wanted to play, he'd be happy to extend her the same courtesy. It was the least he could do to repay her.
Ginny's first attempt to steal Harry's journal occurred during lunch that day, far too soon to have an effective plan. He wanted to make it slightly difficult for her, but not impossibly hard. She was not properly trained in subterfuge and espionage, so he would use no spells beyond NEWT-level. After all, his godfather never made it impossible for him, just a bit more difficult than the last time. He would record her attempts along with helpful hints for success.
She sat down next to him quickly and was far too eager to adjust her shoelaces. Harry simply slid his bag to the other side of his feet so she couldn't reach around him. She didn't look deterred in the slightest, which quite impressed Harry. He tallied a win for himself and fought back a smile. This was more fun than he had anticipated. He could see why his godfather always grinned during this game. Harry: 1, Ginny: 0.
Her second attempt was later that night in the Gryffindor Common Room, when she asked him to read over her essay for Potions. It was eight inches on the properties of the three most common truth potions, their benefits and drawbacks. While he had never done this assignment and never taken 5th year Potions, he had personally brewed and used each of the truth potions listed. As he was poring over her tidy scrawl, she surreptitiously hooked her foot around the strap of his bag and slowly slid it towards her. Unfortunately for her, he was currently sitting on his notebook. He couldn't fight back the smile this time as she quietly searched his pack for an object that wasn't there. Harry: 2, Ginny: 0.
Showing a rare tenacity, she crept into his dormitory after he went to bed, setting off the weak proximity alarm on the door. The spell was fair, as she had used the same one in a futile attempt to keep him away from her room when they had their first fight. He feigned sleep while she rummaged through his pack, and was startlingly quiet about it. Impressive. Time to see how she improvised.
He moaned softly and rolled over, causing her to back up quickly. She wasn't as aware of her surroundings as she should have been, and tripped over a pile of Ron's dirty clothes with a startled yelp. Harry sat up at the noise. "Ginny? What are you doing here so late?" he asked, knowing full well what she was up to but not wanting to give away the game just yet. She fumbled through a weak excuse about thinking that he still had her Potions essay, and he pretended to buy it. He kissed her quickly and led her out of the dormitory. Harry: 3, Ginny: 0.
The youngest Weasley entered the Boy's dormitory again in the morning, while Harry was doing his usual run around the grounds. She set off his proximity alarm again, he was going to have to let her know somehow that she needed to be more cautious and check for traps. He hopped on his broom and flew up to the Common Room with all possible expediency. He took off his shirt with a wry smile as he climbed the steps to the Boy's dormitory, saying hello to a rather startled-looking boy from the next room over. Harry gave her a few moments to hide before turning the knob. He would have set his own proximity alarms on all exits, just in case, but she couldn't be expected to know that sort of thing with no instruction.
After her muted cursing and thumping around had ceased, he swung open the door and took in the sight before him; his sheets were rumpled, his nightstand was completely rearranged. It was obvious that it had been searched, and hastily. It was also obvious that Ginny was hiding under his bed. Of all the places to seek cover... He shook his head softly. They would have to debrief when this game ended. She had gone into this situation without giving her exit strategy a spare thought. That showed a lack of discipline and forethought. Did she treat other situations similarly, saying something or doing something without considering the consequences?
Well, he couldn't just let her get away with raiding his room so recklessly...
Ginny nearly gasped out loud as Harry's trousers hit the floor right in front of her hiding spot. Oh, this was quickly going from bad to worse. He wouldn't... and he did. The soft thump of his shirt, socks and underwear hitting the floor wouldn't have muted her scream of frustration, so she bit her lip hard. Bloody hell, she thought to herself as she buried her head in her hands, trying to resist the temptation to beat her head thoroughly against the unyielding granite below her. I really am rubbish at sneaking around, aren't I? Merlin's soggy undershirt, but the man is handsome. All I can see are his ankles, but even they just ooze attractiveness. Is that wrong to think? Wait, why am I still staring at his naked ankles? What if he walks further away?! I shouldn't be looking at this. I really, really, definitely shouldn't be looking at this...
"Hmm? Someone set off my proximity alarm... must've been Ron." Harry mused aloud, hoping she would get the hint and just disable them next time. She had gone impressively silent; he couldn't even hear her breathing from a few feet away. He didn't know if he was classifiable as sadistic, but he certainly enjoyed the thought of her being so uncomfortable around him while he was undressed. He'd never had any level of discomfort with his naked body; it was still a novelty to find someone who had such a reaction to it. Content with the knowledge that she had to be positively squirming under his bed, he loped off to take a quick shower. He didn't even bother to close the door as the water started running. Hopefully, she'd blush clear up to her hairline and leave quietly while he was washing off the sweat from his workout.
Which, of course, she did. Sweet, sweet victory. 4 to nil.
Ginny wouldn't meet his face at breakfast later that morning; she just looked down at her plate and blushed furiously. He rather enjoyed seeing her embarrassed. It was highly endearing. She was so embarrassed, in fact, that she didn't try again until after Quidditch practice that night. She didn't show up for their customary after-practice snack, so he waited a minute and then summoned his bag from his room. He laughed out loud when he saw that it was already open and half empty. How perfectly damning... He'd already thought up a viable excuse that would keep her from getting too suspicious of his actions. The journal was still in there, thanks to his sticking charm, but she'd gotten past the door alarm and the bag alarm this time. That was quite an improvement! It didn't earn her any points, though. 5 to 0. Merlin, but he loved winning. He loved winning.
They met in the Room of Requirement after dinner for their scheduled lesson, and he brought her something from the kitchens since she wasn't at the after-practice snack session. She said thank you, but was obviously expecting an interrogation or at least a question about his bag. He wouldn't tip her off quite yet... he was having a lot of fun with this.
She kept eyeing his bag distractedly during their question and answer session. So obvious... "Ginny? Are you all right? You seem distracted tonight." She blushed harder and shook her head. "Just tired, is all..." Well, he had a cure for that. He quietly put her to sleep with a minor compulsion charm a few minutes later and finished up with his massage. The game was all well and good, but she needed her rest or she got... testy. He dressed her, carried her up to her room and tucked her in.
He couldn't keep the smile off of his face, though. This was just too much fun.
Albus Dumbledore was a man who was intimately familiar with sleep deprivation, and the oddly philosophical musings that went hand in hand with it. It was expected, in a way, considering that most students didn't believe he slept at all. Did their young minds even consider the possibility that he had a bedroom inside the school, and used it occasionally? Did they just assume that if he wasn't eating then he was certainly to be found much as he was now, sitting behind his desk with his fingers steepled in front of his face, simply waiting for someone to call on him? During his last foray into Hogsmeade, he passed by a shop that sold the most wonderfully colorful socks... he even saw a pair that massaged the user's feet. He dearly wanted a pair of those... He could easily imagine sitting through another dreadfully dull meeting of the Board of Governors, pretending to be interested in the proceedings but really thinking how perfectly marvelous his feet felt as the knit wool rubbed circles on his battered arches...
Such were the late-night, sleep-deprived philosophical musings of Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore.
The fireplace flared to life, interrupting his rather pleasant train of thought, and Sirius Black poked his head out of the flames. "Good evening, Albus! I've got great news! I hope I'm interrupting something..." The Auror in Charge of Executive Protection turned his head every which way in dramatic fashion, searching the room for someone to talk over.
With a small smile at the man's antics, the Headmaster replied, "Sadly, no. Perhaps you'd like to try again in the morning? I'm expecting a visit from the Minister of Magic himself. He is quite interruptible, if you are inclined to such proclivities."
Sirius' smile widened, creases forming at the corners of his mouth. "No, thank you, I interrupt Arthur quite enough already. I'm here on official business, actually. I've got the paperwork here for a new student, temporary transfer I assure you, and I need to have the processing expedited. She needs to start on Monday."
Dumbledore's bright blue eyes twinkled. "Mr. Black, I'm more than happy to help the Ministry in any way I can and I'm always happy to take on new students, but you'll have to be a bit more forthcoming with the details."
With a nod, Sirius said in a low voice, "Her name is Samantha Cameron, daughter of David Cameron. Truthfully, I need a place to hide her, to keep her safe while we work on the Winters case. David's the best there is at this sort of work, but he can't focus when he's constantly worrying about his daughter's safety. I know there's no safer place than Hogwarts, and it's a new assignment for my godson, as well. He'll be in charge of close protection for the duration of her stay."
Albus' eyes twinkled more brightly. "Oho! I'm touched that you consider my school to be so secure. It is high praise, coming from a man in your position. Harry will be delighted, I'm sure, to be in the constant company of another woman."
"I thought the same thing! She arrives first thing Monday morning, Harry will be briefed immediately prior to her arrival, please have him report to your office at 0530. Oh, and get some sleep, Albus, you look like you haven't seen your bed in a week." Sirius waved as his head vanished from the flames.
"... Indeed." Albus said to no one in particular, steepling his fingers together thoughtfully.
Harry awoke the next morning before dawn to the sound of his nightstand drawer being closed. It took a considerable amount of discipline to keep still, when his first instinct was to lash out immediately and terminate the threat that had gotten so close to his sleeping form. Uncomfortably close, in fact. It had to be Ginny, but he didn't hear her come in and didn't wake when she approached. That was unsettling, as he always woke up when people came within a certain distance of him. It was the reason his Godfather could never catch him off guard, but somehow the youngest Weasley had succeeded where others had failed. He sensed her the moment he woke, so why did he fail to wake sooner?
Ginny must have seen him twitch, for she reached over and shook him until he rolled over to face her. Once she saw that his eyes had opened, she brightly exclaimed, "Good morning, Harry! Don't get up quite yet, I've got a surprise for you. I know I've been a bit distracted lately, but that's no excuse to ignore my new best mate! So I brought you something... it's a bit of an 'I'm sorry' and a bit of a 'thank you', but mostly a 'just because'." With a flourish, she set down a wide tray laden with his favorite breakfast items. Eggs, diced potatoes and peppers, sausage, bacon, milk, orange juice, toast... even a small bar of dark chocolate for dessert! Brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face, she sat back with a small, satisfied smile.
As he stared down at the loaded tray, Harry found himself thinking (and not for the first time) of how much his life had changed in the few short months he'd been assigned to Hogwarts. He felt like a completely different person at times... as if his old life was a million miles away.
Back then, breakfast was served in the mess hall, he ate as quickly as manners would allow and then returned to his room. He heard the hushed whispers around him, but no one would open a line of communication. He took no steps to establish personal rapport with any of his fellow soldiers, and he had no idea how to initiate such actions. He didn't care to endear himself to them, since he was almost certainly going to die before age 18. And now, he was being served breakfast in bed by his best mate for nothing more than being himself. The fact that he even had a best mate warmed him against the crisp morning air.
He felt a euphoric near-weightlessness as he dug in. A best mate was a very nice thing to have, he decided. For several short minutes, there was nothing but the sound of utensils scraping. When he had eaten his fill, he leaned back against the headboard and smiled at Ginny. "Thank you. It was very thoughtful, and the food was delicious."
"You're quite welcome, Harry. Instead of the food, you should really be thanking me for waking up this early to give it to you. Why on earth would a rational human being have their eyes open at this hour? Anyway, how's your reflection journal coming? Have any epiphanies lately?" Ginny tried to look nonchalant, but there was a bright eagerness in her voice that she couldn't quite conceal.
Harry felt that she had worked awfully hard this time, so he'd take the bait. It didn't dim his enjoyment of the meal at all, though. He knew that regardless of the fact that they were playing a basic game of espionage, she wouldn't fake her emotions for it. She was truly grateful for his friendship, and happy for an excuse to thank him for it. "Well, I wouldn't say I've had an epiphany yet, but I'm still writing down everything. The journal is filling up more quickly than I anticipated."
With a mechanical and deliberate motion he pulled the journal from beneath his mattress and canceled the minor notice-me-not charm he'd placed on it. He made a show out of placing the pad of his thumb on the top right corner of the journal to unlock it and opened it to the current page. "It's already two-thirds full. It is far more enjoyable than I would have expected, so this is not a problem. When it is full, I will reflect on my notes until a noticeable pattern of cause and effect emerges. I honestly don't know what the results will be; I've never run this type of experiment before... It is quite exciting."
They made small talk for a while longer, then Ginny kissed him on the nose and left to let him get ready for his morning. He couldn't miss the look of triumph on her face as she left. She would try again while he was on his morning run, without a doubt. She would have a bit of trouble with his locking charm, since it only opened with the thumbprint of the one who locked it. He didn't think it was higher than NEWT-level, but he also didn't expect her to be able to defeat it with no preparation. It was a common-use locking charm in the Wizarding World, or at least the parts that he'd been exposed to.
Sure enough, when she came down for breakfast it was with a look of thinly veiled disappointment. 6 to 0! She sat down and prodded her eggs, lost in thought. Suddenly, her eyes locked onto Hermione, who was sitting on her right. Harry could practically hear the click of the light switch turning on.
He didn't know if his bushy-haired friend would play along with their game, so he decided to intervene. "Hermione, do you have a moment after breakfast? I'd like a second opinion on my charms essay, I'm not sure my conclusion is within the assignment's parameters." As soon as she made eye contact with him, he spoke to her mind over the top of his own voice. Ginny is going to ask you about locking spells soon. Please tell me that you can't help me, then tell her about 'digitus clostrum' when she asks. It was a common tactic in covert meetings, to carry on one conversation verbally and a completely different conversation mentally, and it was nearly impossible to catch on to, provided the conversationalists were well-trained.
Hermione, to her credit, didn't give away the slightest hint that she had just been the victim of two conversations at once. She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then replied apologetically, "Sorry, Harry, but I promised I'd help Ron finish his." I'm quite sure I don't want to know. You owe me one, Harry!
That was very surprising, though he didn't show it. He had only instructed Hermione on the basics of surface legilimency a week ago, to give them a more private alternative to tossing crumpled pieces of parchment back and forth, and she had already learned to use the spell wandlessly to deliver verbal messages, whilst talking no less. She had a truly ravenous intellect, and soaked up everything he taught her with an eagerness that would have had his previous instructors doing backflips out of joy.
Harry nodded, "Understood. I'm sure Professor Flitwick will not grade me too harshly, I believe I was thorough and detailed, if slightly misdirected." Of course! Your advancements in surface legilimency are very impressive. With that, he grabbed his backpack and stood. "I will see you at lunch, Ginny. Thank you again for breakfast." No sooner did he turn his back to walk away then his red-headed best mate rounded on Hermione and started whispering.
That night at dinner, Ginny was grinning predatorily. She nearly missed the glass when she went to refill his orange juice, which Harry just chalked up to pre-game jitters. Her mind would be racing right now, running over the general plan and every possible contingency. It was only natural that she would feel nervous the first few times. What would she try, to locate and separate him from his journal? How would she defeat his lock? When would her attack commence? His stomach churned with anticipation.
Actually... that didn't feel like anticipation churning in his stomach. An angry gurgle resonated through him as he ran a self-diagnostic spell. No known magical afflictions, but he couldn't ignore how he felt. His insides felt like they were being rubbed with sandpaper. It was intensely uncomfortable. He'd had to push through worse, to be sure, but he only had to tough it out in the field. "Excuse me; I've got to go see Madam Pomfrey."
The grin slid off of Ginny's face instantly, replaced by one of concern. "What's wrong, Harry?"
"I'm not sure, but I feel unwell." said the Boy who Lived as he grabbed his bag and stood up unsteadily.
"What? Want some company?" Ginny asked, looking alarmed.
Harry just shook his head, and then walked off at as fast a pace as he could manage without running. The youngest Weasley stared after him, her brow knit with a strange emotion.
It wasn't until later that night that Ginny found herself entering the Hospital wing, a poorly-transfigured flower in one hand and a glossy, handmade get-well card in the other. "Harry?" she called out tentatively, looking around for any sign of the green-eyed Gryffindor.
"I'm over here." he called from behind a linen screen in the far corner. He pulled the curtain back and smiled at her as she approached. "Madam Pomfrey checked me out, but couldn't find any trace of a poison or illness... my only symptom is a drastic increase in the frequency of my bowel movements."
Ginny wrinkled her nose at that. "And did I really need to know that? Still, that's a load off of my mind. You seem like the type of bloke that's made a few enemies, you know, and I don't want you dying on me just yet..." she forced a chuckle, but Harry could tell it was strained.
"Anyway, here. I made these for you." She thrust her items out for him to take. He smiled as he put the flower on the table and read her card. His smile turned into a full-blown laugh as he scanned it over. It was obviously meant to be lighthearted, as it contained a neatly penned poem with numerous near-platitudes about his physical features, and how she would miss them if he died. "Biceps as large as beefsteak tomatoes? Are my eyes really as green as a fresh-pickled toad? I think I'd mourn having toad-green eyes, rather than mourn losing them..."
With a huff of amused irritation, she snatched the card out of his hands. "Well if you don't like it, then I'll take it back! I worked hard on this, dammit!" She couldn't suppress a smile, which illuminated her face prettily in the waning sunlight. She seemed deeply relieved, perhaps because he was still feeling well enough to laugh. Narrowing her eyes, she gently pushed him towards the hospital bed. He sat obediently. "Anyway, you lie back down and take it easy tonight. Forget about our lesson, and forget about your homework for a night." As she spoke, she pulled out her wand and tapped his backpack. It slowly disappeared from sight. That was a very good disillusionment charm, which was significant, as he didn't even know that she knew that particular spell. "Just rest for a while, I'll come back in a bit to keep you company. All right?"
The Boy who Lived nodded, "Yes, thank you, Ginny. I appreciate your concern. That was an impressive disillusionment charm."
Ginny beamed and winked at him, her eyes triumphant. "Thanks, Harry. I've been practicing." She waved, turned and disappeared through the doorway.
Harry blinked, processing her words. Why would she be practicing the disillusionment spell? They were on the 7th year charms curriculum... back up. His eyes widened in surprise as he mentally replayed the events of her visit. He reached down, feeling for his invisible bag, and canceled the disillusionment charm. Rummaging through it quickly, he found his journal conspicuously absent. No way...
She did something to me to make me go to the hospital wing, and wrote me a gag card knowing she'd take it back. It was glossy; it had my fingerprints all over it! She disillusioned my entire bag so I wouldn't see her snatch the journal from it!
The more he thought about it, the more impressed he was. She had efficiently neutralized his mobility, which was his most effective defense, capitalized on the resulting weakness and used a surprisingly advanced spell to conceal her attack. She had pounced when the moment was right. "Well played..." he said to the empty Hospital Wing.
His stomach gurgled loudly once more, and he laughed all the way to the toilet.
During breakfast the next morning, Ginny confessed that she used a powerful muggle laxative to get him to the hospital wing, which would explain why both Madam Pomfrey's and his own diagnostic spells failed to pick up the cause of that intensely uncomfortable experience. She also confessed her disappointment that he picked up on her scheme so quickly. Seconds after she'd had the idea, really. She found out about it once she'd read his journal and found all the helpful side notes about her attempts, and what she could improve upon.
She would have been irritated if it had even the slightest undertone of condescension, but she knew him too well for that. The bloke didn't have the first clue about how to be condescending, nor would he understand the reasoning behind such an attitude. In fact, he would probably never understand unless someone wrote a field manual about it. The cover would probably read, "Effective Diplomatic Countermeasures against Perceived Situational Superiority: the Fine Art of Condescension" or some rubbish like that. The thought brought a smile to her face. He had certainly improved her vocabulary.
She found a lot of entries about her, deeply personal information that she didn't expect him to willingly share with her. She was touched by the level of trust he showed in her, the effort he put into properly defining his emotions regarding her and the time they spent together. It seemed a bit odd, though, because he was very vague when speaking of certain other things. He often used phrases like 'the second mission with my neighbor' or 'the person with the crooked teeth' when speaking of people and places. It was compounded by the fact that even though he wrote down very specific feelings relating to the events, he never said anything about what caused those emotions. She pointed it out to him. "You really should be more specific when you're talking about other events and people; I can't tell what you're talking about or what it's supposed to mean. You have all these entries and I have no clue what caused you to feel that way."
Harry's smile faltered, but he explained patiently, "I have no secrets from you, Ginny, but some secrets are not mine to give. What I know could be very dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands, intel can mean the difference between life and death in the field. I must not disseminate classified information."
The silence that followed this assertion was sobering. She sometimes forgot that even though he was her schoolmate, even though he was her best mate, he was still a soldier. He was still a highly skilled member of a profession that dealt with life and death. "Thank you for sharing your journal with me, Harry. I really appreciate that you trust me to keep your secrets."
He smiled brilliantly at her. "You're quite welcome, Ginny. I'm glad you're here to keep them."
After another exhilarating Saturday flying session, Ginny and Harry were recovering on the grassy bank bordering the pitch. Well, Ginny was recovering. Harry was... Harry. Sitting there patiently, giving her that knowing look as her damp hair dried in the sun. She'd sweated quite enough to require a shower, and he'd barely perspired. That new broom of his was ... intense. Just like Harry, there was no better word to describe them. Simply holding onto it was a challenge, as it responded to the slightest impulse and had no dampening whatsoever. Every second on it was hard and sharp and blindingly fast. All the same, she loved it. It was just like Harry in so many ways, how could she resist?
Sensing her mood (which he was getting incredibly good at), the Boy who Lived propped himself up on his elbow, leaned over and kissed her forehead with a smile. She frowned as he pulled away, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him right back. He caught himself before he crushed his best mate, his hands landing on either side of her. She tugged his head down to her and kissed him forcefully, smiling against his mouth as he let out a chuckle.
"You know," he said, "one of these days I might not catch myself when you do that. I might not look it, but I'm quite heavy. I'd hate to explain to the Minister of Magic that I crushed his daughter in a tragic snogging accident." As if to prove his point, he lowered himself onto her gently and pressed light kisses on her neck, nonchalantly working his way down to her shoulder and then back up to her ear.
Ginny found his weight to be quite pleasant against her, and his scent blended in with the freshly-cut grass under them to create an intoxicating aroma. Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head as he captured her earlobe with his warm mouth and gently bit it. Merlin help him, but he was amazing at that... She could feel her toes curling inside her trainers as his teeth tugged her earlobe playfully. His breath was hot on her, intense. "Well..." she whispered, more than a little breathless as she tried to take in a full measure of fresh air, "ah... that would be the slightest bit embarrassing for me, too, you know. I mean... I haven't even told my father that we are on snogging terms, I'd hate for him to find out while reading my autopsy report..."
"Are you supposed to tell him that sort of thing?" Harry inquired as the slightest hint of confusion showed on his face.
Ginny smiled contentedly, answering him with practiced patience as she wrapped her slender arms around his waist and pulled him closer. "Why yes, I probably am supposed to tell him when I'm snogging a bloke on a regular basis. It is a fair bit friendlier then a handshake, after all."
Nodding his affirmation, he whispered, "Yes, I suppose it is..."
"I mean... what do you feel when I kiss you?" Ginny asked, honestly curious. One could never take something for granted when dealing with Harry Potter, after all.
Harry regarded her for a long moment, quietly replying, "Something far removed from shaking your hand, to be sure. The best way to describe it is probably... that I enjoy the sensation of you enjoying yourself. I focus on that because it helps me maintain my concentration: it keeps me from getting swept up in the emotions of it."
"That sounds so clinical..." Ginny whispered, her face betraying the pain that statement caused her. "You make it seem like getting swept up in emotions is a bad thing; like you need to constantly be concentrating. Don't you ever let go?"
The Boy who Lived shook his head firmly, suddenly serious as he stared down at her. "I can't let go of my concentration, even for a moment. It's not like I don't want to, but I can't afford to lose control."
The youngest Weasley wanted to lash out at him for sounding so insensitive, but she had realized months ago that it was quite impossible to get a rise out of Harry Potter. She put it as gently as she could, "That hurts, Harry. I'm glad that you care so much about my enjoyment, but I want you to enjoy yourself, too! When you're kissing me, it's like the rest of the world blurs and fades away..."
She looked away, finding these words necessary but very difficult to say when he was staring at her like that. He always stared at her like a drowning man at a lifeline. Like the next five seconds were all he had left before he'd disappear into the depths. The intensity of it still made her self-conscious. "I lose myself in your kisses, and it hurts to think that you're so detached about it! I mean, I really want you to enjoy yourself as much as I do. It's okay to relax and let go every once in a while, to lose control. I think I'd like it..." she trailed off, blushing. Try as she might, being that open never got easier. She'd been making a concerted effort to be as honest as possible with the green-eyed Gryffindor, leading by example. He'd opened up a lot in the past few weeks, especially since he started keeping a self-reflection journal.
"No, Ginny. You don't understand. I cannot be permitted to lose control. Terrible things happen when I slip up." He could tell that she wasn't convinced, so he stood up and offered her his hand. He'd make her understand. "Come with me." She quirked an eyebrow questioningly, but took his proffered hand and stood.
Truthfully, he was nervous. More than nervous. She had been very forgiving of his constant evasive answers. He was still getting used to speaking his mind, and it was a hard habit to form. More than anything, he wanted her to understand that he was not trying to hurt her feelings. He never wanted to hurt her. But for her to not be hurt by his words, for her to understand why he couldn't lose control, he'd have to show her what happened when he did.
He was... ashamed. She had never really seen this side of him, and he was not proud of it.
Over a month ago, she had told him that she wanted to know all about him. This was a fundamental part of himself, but if he told her... If she knew the devastation he could wreak...
He didn't want her to be afraid of him. He didn't want her to fear him like he feared her. Because truthfully, there wasn't a single person in the world he was more afraid of than Ginny Weasley. He needed her, and it scared him on a primal level. If she withdrew from him... If she left him alone again... He might just break. Nobody had ever held that sort of power over him...
Her voice broke him out of his musings. "Where are we going, Harry?"
Without another word, he apparated them to his base.
His training portkey took them both to what had been labeled, "Ground Zero," by his godfather. As far as the eye could see, the place was a wasteland. The trees he had cut into pieces during his last visit were rotting; insects that had burrowed inside and gorged themselves on the soft pulp were crawling on every available surface as Ginny took in her new surroundings. "What happened here?" she asked, awestruck.
Harry took a deep breath, and then exhaled it slowly. He really didn't want to tell her this, but it was too late to turn back now. "Right after your family's Christmas party, I lost control. That's what happened here." Her eyes looked up into his, and he nodded. "I am what happened here."
Ginny shook her head and looked around again, "But this is..." It looked like nothing she'd ever seen before, and it was not a reassuring feeling that seeped into her as her eyes roamed. Trees were sliced cleanly through, sometimes in as many as six or seven places. Others were smashed violently, with splinters littering the area around them. The carnage went impossibly far in every direction. The level of destruction... The sheer size of the area...
For the briefest moment, it was terrifying.
The Boy who Lived turned her shoulders towards him, a strange look on his face. "It's incredibly fortunate that I made it here before I lost control." He stared piercingly into her eyes, willing her to understand. "I just couldn't hold on any longer, and this was the result. Could you imagine this happening at the Burrow? At Hogwarts? This is what I'm capable of, Ginny. This is me. I am a weapon. This is what I was raised to do, and it's what I'm best at. This was all I knew up until the day you met me.
"I am trying to integrate properly, but there is something wild inside of me and it screams for release..." the black-haired Gryffindor put his palm over his chest, digging his nails into the muscle there. "It's always just a heartbeat away...
"You asked me a question earlier, and my answer is that I enjoy kissing you because I feel a bit more human every time I make you smile." Harry shut his mouth for a moment, gathering his thoughts again as Ginny regarded him intently. He wanted so much for her to understand him.
"You are good, kind-hearted and innocent. You are untainted. I never realized it before, and I wouldn't have cared, but I'm a monster. Don't try to disagree, because I'm not arguing it. I am stating a fact. My hands are stained with blood. Stained since I was 8 years old, and it never washes off..." He trailed off, uncertain how to explain further what he was feeling.
While he was thinking, Ginny picked up his hands. Delicately, she placed light kisses on his fingers, his knuckles. His breath hitched as he watched this simple gesture. "Harry, do you believe in angels?"
"I have not observed any empirical data that would suggest or disprove the existence of angels." he stated immediately in his signature monotone.
With a secret smile, she whispered, "Well, I think you're my guardian angel. You're always watching over me, always protecting me." Leaning up on her toes, she dropped his hands and pulled his head down to hers.
Harry's eyes widened as her lips met his insistently, urgently. He could feel her need to make him see himself the way she saw him. She picked up his hands again and put them around her shoulders, wrapping her own around his waist. She let him envelop her, and let him feel the overwhelming sense of security that she felt whenever he held her.
After a short while, she broke the kiss and rested her head against his shoulder. Harry stared out over the destruction his hands had wrought and quietly asked, "Do you really see me like that?"
She just smiled into his chest and squeezed him tighter. She'd already answered him, and nothing else needed to be said.
"Okay, Ron, just like I showed you. Empty your mind; just let it float. Got it? Okay, keep that focus but open your eyes and look at me. That's it, now picture an image in your head and picture it disappearing into my eyes…"
After a long moment, Hermione quietly asked, "Did you try to send it yet?"
With a frustrated groan, Ron nodded glumly. "I'm rubbish at this, Hermione. I'm never going to get it!" Rubbing at his scalp in irritation, he started pacing around the common room.
Hermione frowned for a moment, and then brightened up a bit. "Cheer up! Harry said that anyone can learn to do basic surface legilimency, and you've already got the verbal part down, for the most part. All it takes is a good teacher and the proper motivation. Look at me, Ronald!"
He spun in place, meeting his girlfriend's eyes. "How many times do I have… to…" Ron trailed off as his girlfriend demonstrated surface legilimency once more by implanting an image into his head. An image of what would happen should he succeed before the night was up.
She grinned impishly as he stared blankly into space. "Is that 'motivational' enough?"
He blushed clear to the roots of his ginger hair and gulped hard. Sweet, merciful Merlin. "Right, let's try this again..."
He loved this woman. He loved her.
"Well, I was thinking about an apprenticeship in the medi-witch program at St. Mungo's... They don't accept a lot of people, but my grades are good enough. I really like helping people, so it makes a lot of sense, but the program is really hard and it doesn't pay any money, so I'd have to get another job on top of the schooling and work portions of the program..." Ginny blushed. It was another Saturday night in the Room of Requirement, and they were chatting the night away as usual. Okay, it was mostly her chatting, with him listening as seriously as he always did.
She was somewhat ashamed of both her babbling and the fact that her family wasn't very well off. Even though Dad was the Minister of Magic, they never had enough money to be carefree with their spending. There were simply too many kids for a single-income family. They were comfortable, of course, but there was a good reason why almost every minister in the past had accepted bribes or gifts. She admired her father deeply for his resolve not to accept any favors, but it didn't mean she didn't wish they were better off.
Harry couldn't understand why people were so worried about money, but accepted the fact that he didn't know much about it. Everything he'd ever really needed had always been issued to him, and the only purchases he usually made were personal upgrades to replace his issued equipment and items. "That is an admirable goal, Ginny."
She favored him with a smile and asked, "What about you, Mr. 'I've saved the world on more occasions than I have fingers to count them'?"
He shook his head at her cheeky grin, and then turned serious. "Well, I never really gave it much thought before. I never imagined living past my fight with Voldemort, truthfully. I just thought I'd train, fight and take him down with me. After I survived, I thought I'd just keep doing missions until one finally ended me."
Harry saw the frown forming on her face and quickly continued, "But now I seem to dislike that thought. So I was thinking of training more people do the type of jobs I do. The ones that require an edge that most will never train hard enough to acquire. I think I'd have to be the teacher and leader for a while, and then I could just step back and let them take over. There's definitely a need for people like me..."
Ginny smiled broadly, patting him on the shoulder. "I think you'd make a fantastic teacher! And you certainly know your subject..." she chattered away again, but Harry's mind had started to drift.
He didn't know that telling someone about your hopes could feel so liberating. It seemed special, this moment between them. Not even his Godfather knew what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, and it felt amazingly good to get her approval.
"Thank you for coming, Harry. I'm sure you're wondering why you're in my office so early?" Albus Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes twinkling merrily.
The Boy who Lived hadn't wondered, actually. He honestly didn't care what he would be volunteered for. He was just glad that he was asked to report somewhere; it made him feel like he was still a soldier. Harry hadn't been assigned a mission since he had passed one on to Edwards. Other soldiers passed on missions occasionally, if not frequently. Was it a mistake for him to do the same? "No sir. The Ministry never trained me to wonder why." He often used this phrase to deal with nervous first-timers who overanalyzed every little aspect of their mission, pondering and thinking until they made themselves sick from it. It often reassured them, and over time it had become an automatic response.
The Headmaster chuckled, a smile appearing on his pale, weathered face. "Indeed." The fireplace roared to life, spitting Sirius Black and a young female out onto the plush carpeting.
Since the first time Harry had set foot inside this office, he had always marveled at how Dumbledore kept the fireplace carpet so immaculate when it was constantly being covered in soot and stepped on. Cleaning spells, which were as much a part of a soldier's life as offensive spells, tended to wear out the carpet when constantly applied, but this one always looked brand new.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he stood rigidly and focused his attention on his godfather as he helped the brown-haired girl to her feet.
She was tall and slender, with the wide eyes and wobbly legs that were clear signs of a first time floo traveler. She was still staring at the ground, focusing on something that wasn't swimming in front of her eyes, trying to regain her equilibrium as she clutched weakly at Sirius' cloak. "Please, let's never do that again." she said in a quiet, unsteady voice. "That was easily the most uncomfortable ten seconds of my life."
If Sirius noticed how off-kilter she still was, he showed no signs of it. Instead, he clapped her heartily on the back and seemed entirely too happy for the occasion. She staggered under the force of Sirius' blow, but kept her footing. "Welcome to Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! To your left is Albus Dumbledore, your new headmaster." he motioned to the wizened old man sitting comfortably behind his desk.
Albus nodded his head and smiled sympathetically at the poor girl, who was clearly being not accustomed to Sirius' rapid pace. It could be a tad overwhelming, he knew. The girl barely glanced up to acknowledge his presence, lest she lose her balance entirely.
"And to your right," Sirius said with a mischievous grin, "is your new bodyguard. Samantha Cameron, it is my distinct pleasure to introduce you to my godson, Harry Potter."
Samantha's bright blue eyes shot up to lock onto the Boy who Lived, who inwardly groaned at his godfather's flair for dramatics. A goofy grin spread across her face, and without as much as a 'how do you do', she fainted dead away and fell forward gracefully.
Sirius, who seemed to be waiting for this, caught her around the waist and hoisted her upright, then let out a barking laugh. "I knew it!"
Harry just shook his head. His godfather might be the Auror in Charge of Executive Protection, but he could be such a child, sometimes... Inwardly though, the Gryffindor was strangely pleased that someone was so surprised to be meeting him that they fainted. That had never happened before.
Sirius woke her with a casual flick of his wrist, and her head snapped up frantically. Her eyes finally settled back on Harry and grew even wider. Her grin returned and she flung herself at the Boy who Lived, latching onto his chest and cinching her arms down around him. Hugging him tightly, she let out an overwhelmingly fast torrent of words. She spoke so fast that he could barely understand her. "It's really you! I can't believe you're really going to be my bodyguard; this is going to be fantastic! Do you have to do what I tell you to? Would you come and rescue me if I was being picked on by large, dangerous-looking blokes? Would you teach me how to shoot a gun? Are you going to follow me around all the time wearing dark sunglasses and a black suit, like in the movies? Will you tuck me in at night? Will you-"
Whatever he might have had to do was cut off with a wave of Sirius' wand; he had silenced her. Nonplussed, she shut her mouth and happily continued to hug the green-eyed Gryffindor, giggling mutely in contentment. Harry was feeling both confused at how quickly she had latched onto him and happy that she was so affectionate. He found that after over a decade with minimal contact outside of Sirius and Remus, he craved physical touch a great deal. He did feel a bit hesitant, however: how would Ginny react? She didn't seem to like it when other women were affectionate with him...
"I'll give you the short version of the briefing so you can get to... breakfasting." Sirius said cheerfully, though Harry was sure that breakfast was hardly what his godfather meant. "Her father is working on the Winters case with me, and he needs assurance that his daughter will be taken care of. I know there's nobody that can take care of her better than you can, so you've got the job. Until we find Dr. Winters, you'll be watching over her and making sure that she's safe and happy. She has been placed in all of your classes. If she cannot keep up with her schoolwork, then you are to tutor her personally. If she isn't asleep in the Girls' Dormitory or in the loo, then you are not to leave her side. Your mission is 'close protection'. She is currently designated as a class 5 target; treat all threats accordingly. All information regarding this mission is classified, Alpha clearance only. You are authorized to use any and all means necessary to accomplish your objectives. Any questions?"
Harry stood rigidly at attention, or as close to rigidly at attention as he could manage while a girl was hanging off of him. "No sir!" he said firmly, feeling a rush of mixed emotions about this new mission. Of course he had questions, but Sirius wouldn't have the answers he was looking for. Her father was David Cameron? They were searching for Dr. Winters? She was a class 5 target? That was the highest class, indicating an imminent attack on her life, with zero regard for collateral damage. Someone really wanted her dead. The familiar weight of responsibility settled around his shoulders, causing a tightening behind his navel.
Sirius nodded firmly, but his grim nature was somewhat lessened by the chuckle he was trying very hard to conceal with a cough. It wasn't working. "Very well. Dismissed!" he barked. Turning sharply, he threw more floo powder into the fireplace and disappeared in a flash of green.
The Boy who Lived swore that his godfather was laughing as he left. What had Sirius gotten him into? As he looked down at the still-silenced girl nuzzling his chest affectionately, he decided that this was going to be one of the more difficult assignments he had ever accepted. The real question wasn't how to protect her from her enemies, whoever they may be, but how to protect them both from being murdered by Ginny Weasley.