Hello everyone :)

Chapter 11 here. I know that I said there would be no updates until after this week, but I had a change of plans which left me time to finish this chapter. So I hope I haven't disappointed you :P

Thank you to all of my fantastic reviewers, Book-Mania-Girl520, DanielWhite, DukeBrymin, isigirl, mina14, xKillthelights, meghan0095, littlemiss185, and SiriusObession. Thank you!

I hope you enjoy it!

xxxx

William Smethy.

William.

Smethy.

Or maybe Billy, or Liam.

I probably should have asked someone. McGonagall would have known.

Although she probably just called him Smethy—but still, she would have known what his classmates called him.

I sighed to myself and forced myself to stare at the glum green door. I really should have asked someone.

I took a few deep breaths, then rang the doorbell.

Or, at least, I was about to ring the bell. But the second before I did a jet of blue light shot in my direction and I had to duck, hitting myself in the head against who-knows-what and a bucket of green goop had suddenly cracked open on my head.

I had my wand at the ready, looking about for the cause of my sudden attack, when I noticed a small boy whip a curtain closed.

The window, though, was still open.

I groaned.

I actually just got pranked by a ten-year-old.

I quickly cleaned myself up and rang the doorbell, suddenly realizing that the little boy might have been this Smethy character. I heard a "No, Mum, wait!" before the door opened and a lovely woman smiled at up at me.

"Hello? Can I help you, young ma—Liam! You don't shove your Mother—"

"Alright, bloke," the little boy said, standing in front of his mum with his wand out and trained on me. "You just turn around and go so that I don't have to—" he trailed off as he saw my scar. "Blimey! Erm, I mean, I apologize, Mr. Potter, sir…"

I couldn't help but chuckle slightly at that. It's quite interesting to be called 'Mr. Potter' or 'sir' to be honest. Actually, it's downright odd.

"It's alright, Liam," I said, trying to remember what his mum had called him. "Is it alright if I come in?"

He could only nod mutely as his mother, who had shot him a look that clearly meant he was in trouble, invited me in graciously.

"Harry Potter, then?" She asked as she led me down a hall to a spacious sitting room. "Liam has told us all about the stories, of course. And the other woman already came to try to get him to go back. He's just convinced that he has to stay here." She shook her head and motioned for me to sit. "I'll just go get you a cup of tea."

"Oh! Erm, thank you, but I'm really alright. I just wanted to speak to you and Liam, if that's alright."

"Of course, dear," she said, sitting opposite me. I realized that she had never actually told me her name. Well, I suppose I can just call her Mrs. Smethy.

"The other woman—Molly, I believe—told us that it was over, that you won. I'm so glad. I have no idea how I would have protected Liam. A mother's instinct, you know, even when there's nothing that the mother can do."

I nodded, not really knowing how to start. Merlin, and I rehearsed it a million times in my head, too.

"She tried to convince him that it was best if he went back, but bless his little heart, he's convinced that he needs to stay here and protect his father and I from the 'bad blokes,' as he calls them." Mrs. Smethy shook her head, looking toward the door through which Liam had disappeared. "He was put into Gryffindor, you know. He was very proud of that. He liked to be called brave."

I smiled.

Now at least I have an angle to work from.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"Probably up in his room. I'll go get him for you."

"Actually, could I go up and talk to him myself?"

She looked at me for a moment before acquiescing. "Of course, dear. Follow me."

She led me upstairs to a small room, then rapped on the door gently before opening it and nodding me inside. I thanked her with a nod and went into the room. I heard the door shut softly behind me.

There was silence for a moment.

"You want me to go back," Liam accused, not looking at me. He was concentrating very hard on bouncing a small ball against his bedroom wall.

"I do."

"I can't. Mum and Dad don't have magic."

"Muggleborns have every right to learn magic, Liam. Hogwarts wants you to come back to school and learn more. Don't you want to see your friends?"

The dull thuds of rubber on the wall were beginning to get louder. I could sense his frustration suddenly grow.

"That's not what I mean."

Thud. Thwap! Thud.

"I understand that you didn't like Hogwarts, Liam, but that's not what it's really like. Now that McGonagall's in charge things will be like they used to be at Hogwarts—cheerful and innocent."

His eyes very suddenly locked onto mine and I realized that this boy, in one measly year, had forgotten all about the word 'innocent.'

I hope the Carrows are sentenced to life in Azkaban. I don't want them to be spared the suffering with an outright execution.

"I mean, you'll see how it is, Liam. It's all about learning magic with your friends and going to Hogsmeade for Honeydukes chocolate and butterbeer—"

"You don't get it!"

Well, at least now we're getting somewhere.

I waited patiently for him to continue.

When he didn't I prodded him. "Can you tell me?"

He threw the ball against the wall and let it bounce across the room, landing Merlin-knows-where. My eyes were trained on him as he finally turned his entire body to face me.

"Mum and Dad don't have magic. I can't leave them."

Comprehension suddenly dawned, and I wondered why I had been so thick to begin with. Liam was a Gryffindor.

I smiled. "Did you know, Liam, that I've always been proud to be a Gryffindor?"

He nodded.

"I always thought it was because my mum and dad were both in Gryffindor, and I suppose that's part of it—but do you know why I loved living in Gryffindor Tower?"

He shook his head again, and I could tell he was holding back a few sniffles and tears.

"It was because Gryffindors are like you. They're brave, even when they're not strong enough. But Liam, I want you to go back to Hogwarts, and I want you to learn more spells, so that you can really protect your mum and dad. Alright?"

"I can't leave them for two whole years," he objected, frowning. "That's what they said in the letter, that we would have to go for two years straight to make up for what we didn't learn last year."

"Don't worry, the Ministry has a group of Aurors checking on the families of muggle-born students. Your mum and dad will be fine."

"Are you sure?" He sniffled. I summoned the tissue box for him.

"Yes. Most of the Death Eaters have already been caught, as well."

His face brightened considerably. "Really?"

I grinned. I was pretty happy about those articles as well. I had been counting them as they appeared in The Prophet all summer. "Really. Now get started on packing your trunk."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Harry Potter!" Liam said enthusiastically, suddenly eager for the most mundane of activities.

I grinned.

At least that was one goal accomplished.

xxxxx

"Ronald Weasley! Get down here this instant or we're leaving without you!"

He groaned loudly.

"Oh, hush, Ron," Hermione reprimanded as she straightened his tie. "You should have been down there ages ago, not dragging Ginny and me back up here to help you look decent—"

Ron couldn't even be bothered with a proper reply. He just groaned loudly again.

Hermione gave him a withering look.

I sat on my bed and managed to keep myself from giggling. They were just too funny.

"RONALD WEASLEY!"

We all jumped at the sound of Mum's shrill voice, suddenly amplified to fill the house, and turned fearfully to the door just as Harry poked his head in.

"Erm, Ron? I think now would be a good time to get down there, mate."

"Right," Ron mumbled as Hermione straightened him up one more time. Then he grabbed her hand and headed down the stairs. Harry smiled at me, offering me his hand. I took it and we had just reached the bottom when—

"GINEVRA! Where ARE you?"

You know, sometimes I think Ron has the right idea with not answering. I certainly don't want to encourage Mum's behavior.

Instead I just pulled Harry into the tiny parlour where everyone else was gathered.

"Finally!" Mum said, exasperated. "Now, everyone go get into the car…"

"Remind me again why we had to drive?" Harry asked me under his breath as we moved out of Mum's hearing range.

I rolled my eyes. "Because you can't stand up in the Floo and Ron might splinch himself from excitement if we apparate."

"Ah," he said, coloring slightly. "Sorry."

I rolled my eyes again. "You should be sorry for that tie you're wearing."

He tinged a brighter pink. "Is it really that bad?"

In all honesty, it wasn't. It's just green, that's all.

"Green?" I asked acidly, "Couldn't you have picked a nice burgundy?"

"What's wrong with green? Your Mum said it matched my eyes!"

I couldn't help cracking a smile at that. It did match his eyes rather nicely, come to think of it…

"It's a Slytherin color."

"Erm, well, yes, that was kind of the point."

I turned on him as we piled into the car. "That was kind of the point?"

He blushed again. "Yeah, well, we've had a bloody war, and I thought, let's try to put it all behind us, you know? Promote unity so that this nonsense doesn't happen again."

I snorted. "Has Hermione got you handing out buttons for SPEW as well?"

"I am perfectly capable of coming up with my own intelligent ideas," Harry said, somewhat insulted. "And if you don't hush, she's going to bug you to help with SPEW. She's sitting right next to you and Ron can only keep her distracted for so long."

I turned to see exactly how Ron was keeping her distracted.

Big mistake.

"Ronald Weasley!" Mum yelled from the front, suddenly catching sight of the two of them as well. "Stop mauling that poor, innocent girl! The point of the car was that you would not muss your nice clothes!"

The two of them immediately sprang apart and their cheeks colored red.

Suddenly it occurred to me that Ron and Hermione had gone off and fought a war—were about to receive the First Order of Merlin for their efforts—but Mum still treated them like small children.

I wonder if that will ever change.

xxxxx

The Atrium was bursting with people who were trying to get further into the Ministry, many of them dressed in their best Sunday clothes and asking for directions to the reception hall.

And I would have been fine with that, if only we weren't headed for the reception hall as well.

Fortunately, or maybe just because Hermione and Mr. Weasley put together means a fantastic amount of foresight, no one recognized us because of an Illusion Charm. At the moment, we looked like a dark-haired family that Mr. Weasley saw in London a few days ago.

Sidling through people, we finally made it to the reception hall and were greeted by Kingsley's personal assistant, Cecilia.

She smiled prettily at us, having already been given a picture of our disguise. She double-checked it surreptitiously before giving us another wide smile.

"Right this way, please," she said graciously, turning and leading us down an aisle. "On behalf of Minister Shacklebolt, I welcome you. As his personal guests, you will be seated at the front of the hall…"

I tuned her out and concentrated on searching the hall for any more familiar faces. George and Percy were already seated in our row, not talking animatedly, but this is still the least glum I've seen George since the beginning of the summer.

Bill was in the next row with Fleur, who was rocking Victoire gently and attempting to stuff a bottle into the baby's mouth. Victoire seemed to be actively protesting.

Andromeda and Teddy were seated a few rows back. I would have gone to give my godson a hug but we can't let the illusion go yet. Teddy might mistake me for some random dark-haired bloke and start screaming.

Oh wait…I already have dark hair, don't I? Well, you got the idea, anyway.

Just as we were settling into our seats, Cecilia looked at Mr. Weasley, then down at her watch. "Three…two…and, go ahead, sir."

Suddenly there were a bunch of gingers sitting in the front row and the lights dimmed as Kingsley walked onto the stage. His arrival was quickly met with loud applause.

Kingsley walked to the lectern before inclining his head in polite acknowledgement of the applause. Then he raised his wand, signaling silence to the crowd, and pointed it at his throat. A moment later his voice boomed through the hall.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I am most pleased that you were able to join us this morning as we honor those who have fought for our freedom.

"Voldemort, the man who was once known as Tom Riddle, was a man who believed that his human nature left him powerless, and so he cast it aside. But here before us, we have individuals who prove to us that our human nature makes us strong. I hope you will join me in honoring their courage and sacrifice in this struggle for our freedom."

Raucous applause followed that statement for several long moments before Kingsley raised his wand again, signaling that he had more to say.

"First, we honor a family who has given more to this cause than any other." He looked down at the front row, his gaze stopping momentarily at George's face. "The Weasley family—" he was forced to break off as loud cheers erupted suddenly. After giving them a moment, they quieted on their own and he was able to continue. "The Weasley family has been at the forefront of this war, even before the Ministry itself was willing to acknowledge it. They protected Harry Potter—and by extension the entire wizarding community—when the government itself was not willing to do so. They have given much to this fight. For this, I, Kingsley Shacklebolt, with the power invested in me by the position of the Minister of Magic, do award the Order of Merlin, Third Class, to Arthur, Molly, Bill, George, and Ginevra Weasley."

There was more raucous applause as they went up to accept their awards. But no one clapped harder than the person who wolf-whistled from a few seats down.

That's right, Percy Weasley wolf-whistled at a Ministry function.

Ron, Hermione and I all looked at each other before Ron shrugged, and whistled himself.

I wrapped my arm around Ginny when she took her seat again, squeezing her in a one-armed hug. She grinned up at me, but there was something sad behind her eyes. I recognized it, but soon she'll have something to smile about. They just don't know it yet.

I sat back and waited for the applause to die down again. When it did, Kingsley began.

"I would also like to award the Order of Merlin, Third Class, to another Weasley." I heard Ginny gasp in shock and Mrs. Weasley begin to sob as they realized what was happening. George simply looked gobsmacked.

"This young man contributed much to the war effort, and in the end he gave his life for it. With the power invested in me by the position of the Minister of Magic, I Kingsley Shacklebolt, do award the Order of Merlin, Third Class, to Fred Weasley."

The utter silence was broken by the loud sobs of Mrs. Weasley, and soon the entire hall was cheering again. I saw George nudge Percy, who hesitantly stood and accepted Fred's award. When he sat again, I could see that he was shaking.

Kingsley raised his wand, asking for silence again. The audience complied, and anyone could sense the anticipation in the hall. Acid churned in my gut and Ginny squeezed my hand.

"Everyone in the wizarding world knows what they owe to Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived—" He had to wait for a few hoots and cheers to die down before he could continue. I tried not to flush or sink into my seat. "And everyone knows how much they owe to his friends, his most loyal and devoted supporters, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger." There was another set of cheers, and I joined in this time, quite enthusiastically. Ron turned the color of his hair. "Rarely have so many owed so much to so few. For their unparalleled bravery and devotion, I award to them—Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger—the Order of Merlin, First Class."

The din was deafening. You would think we were at a rock concert instead of a government building.

When we sat back down with our awards, I understood why Percy had been shaking—I can actually feel Mum and Dad right now.

I didn't hear much of the concluding remarks. I just sat there and looked at my hands, marveling at the fact that my entire life was summed up in a wooden plaque.

And I found, once again, that I really didn't want it.

xxxx

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