Consequences of the Mind
4: The Fall of the Lion

By Mr. Intel

Previous 1: Beginnings 2: Discussions 3: Things Learned, Things Forgotten 4: The Fall of the Lion 5: Communication Breakdown 6: Maidencombe Beach 7: Christmas on the Coast 8: Dumbledore's Return Next

Chapter Four — The Fall of the Lion

Dumbledore was no longer at Hogwarts. In fact, as Ginny thought about it, he probably hadn’t been at Hogwarts since the day the spell had been performed. Yet despite the absence of its Headmaster, the school seemed to operate as it always had ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­— because, as Ginny had discovered, almost no one knew that he wasn’t in the castle.

For those that did know about Dumbledore’s absence, like Ginny’s dorm mates, McGonagall had simply told them that Dumbledore was busy with his duties as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and would be returning in a month’s time. Ginny knew that it would be longer than a month before Dumbledore would even be awake, let alone capable of returning to Hogwarts. How she knew, she couldn’t explain, just as she couldn’t explain her ability to perform every spell in Charms and Transfiguration the first time, every time.

Ginny was sitting on her bed, pulling a brush through her long, red hair as she continued to think about Dumbledore. Every bra she owned was in a pile next to her, and she had spent the last five minutes trying on all four of them. She reckoned that they were all at least a cup-size too small and she was completely at a loss to explain it. Her blouses were tight, too, but were easy enough to fix; a simple expansion charm would hold until she could get to Hogsmeade to purchase new ones. The bras, however, were a bit more complex in construction than a blouse: the expansion charms would either not hold as long, or would end up tearing the delicate material. Long term, she would have to simply buy new blouses and bras.

Placing her brush on the table by her bed, Ginny contemplated cleaning the knots of red hair from its bristles but instead grabbed a bra at random and put it on. Ginny looked reluctantly at herself in the mirror where she saw herself bulging in a very unattractive way. She could go without; she could fake it with a camisole, or put up with the indignity and discomfort of what -- until recently -- had been a fairly-decent bra. After walking back and forth before the mirror in a camisole, she concluded that although it, too, was stretched out farther than it should be, it would be better than an ill-fitting bra. She would just have to manage with that until this weekend, when they had their first Hogsmeade visit.

Thinking of Hogsmeade made Ginny think of Harry. Thinking of Harry inevitably lead to her thinking about their encounter at the lake and her less-than-virtuous behaviour. A soft blush rose on Ginny’s cheeks as she applied a subdued red lipstick and she made it a point to avoid looking her reflected self in the eye.

Ginny had started wearing makeup last year, because Michael Corner had liked it. Now, she decided that she liked to see herself made-up and told herself that it had nothing to do with that insufferable git.

"Are you coming to dinner or what?" asked Ginny’s dorm mate, Kate, from the doorway. "Stephie says your boyfriend is already waiting for you."

Stephanie was her other roommate. While they hadn’t been the best of friends after Ginny’s first year, they had grown into a companionable friendship since then. "I’ll be right there, Kate. I’m just about ready," replied Ginny.

The newly expanded blouse hid the way her camisole flattened her chest, but she still felt self-conscious and more than a bit bound-down by her ill-fitting lingerie.

Stepping down the stairs to the common room, the sounds of two very unhappy people met her ears, clearly in the middle of a blazing row.

"I can’t help it if you want to hide everything that’s important to me, Hermione," Ron shouted. "But I’ll be hanged if I’m going to do it any more. Harry’s okay with it. Why can’t we just move on?"

Hermione was standing less than a foot away from Ron, her chin tilted skyward, her fists clenched, her arms held stiffly at her side. "I’ll tell you why we can’t move on, Ron. Because for years you’ve treated me like your sister — and then when that changed we made a deal to not tell anyone about us and you broke that deal. How can I trust you any more?"

Ron made a frustrated growl and took a step towards Hermione, who didn’t bat an eye. "The whole reason we were keeping it a secret in the first place was so that Harry wouldn’t be upset, but I’ve talked to him about it already and he’s fine with it. It’s not like I took out an ad in the Prophet like I wanted to!" He took a slow breath and, more quietly, said, "Hermione, I’ve been mad for you for years, and I’m not going to hide it any more. I don’t care what other people think and I want the world to know that you and I are together now."

Standing toe to toe like they were, Ginny thought that one of two things was going to happen. Either they would end up hexing each other (as she and Harry had done last term) or they would snog each other senseless then and there. Harry was sitting in an armchair off to the side and when Ron stopped talking, he gave Ginny a mischievous wink.

Taking the hint, Ginny nodded and took two steps to her left. She could tell that Hermione’s anger was deflating and that Ron had finally not bollixed up what he now realized was the most important thing in his life. Another nod from Harry and she pushed out with her magic — a gentle nudge into Hermione’s back.

A small flash of surprise echoed on Ron and Hermione’s faces as they were pressed together, but within an instant they were too busy kissing to notice.

A great cheer erupted from the crowd of students gathered around their classmates. From somewhere near the portrait hole, Ginny heard Seamus yell, "It’s about time. Can we go eat now?"

The students erupted into laughter and started to meander towards the exit. Hermione and Ron pulled apart, the latter glowing like the sun, the former chewing nervously on her lip.

"Oh, Ron," Ginny heard Hermione say. "I’m sorry — for everything."

Ron just hugged her again and they finished with a chaste kiss.

"All right, all right," Harry said, rising from the sofa. "That’s enough of that. You can kiss all you want, but just keep it in the broom closets, eh?"

Ginny walked over to Harry and entwined her fingers in his, feeling the now familiar rush of emotions pass between them before the sensation faded. She had been more than happy to demonstrate the other function of broom closets to Harry once they were back together, her memories somewhat intact.

Ron turned and with one lanky arm around Hermione’s small shoulders, beamed at Harry. "That went better than I expected. Let’s get some grub before Seamus and Dean eat it all."

Laughing together in what seemed to be the first time they had in weeks, the four walked down to the Great Hall.

*

Walking down from the castle towards Hagrid’s hut, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were discussing their previous lesson with the Care of Magical Creatures Professor.

"Bundimun secretion is one of the most important cleanser ingredients, Ron," Hermione said in a huffy tone.

Although she had made up with Ron, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t still argue.

"Yeah, but it’ll eat your hand off before you get enough to do any good," Ron countered.

"Honestly," said Hermione, complete with trademark eye roll. "If you’d used your dragon-hide gloves like you were supposed to, you wouldn’t have that burn."

Ron grumbled something incomprehensible while Harry chuckled behind the two of them. Hermione was fingering his bandage as they held hands and despite their argument, Ron was smiling.

The rest of their classmates were waiting for them outside the back paddock, including the Slytherins. Hagrid was fairly dancing with excitement as the class gathered around, making Harry think that either he had been given another dragon egg, or worse....

"Gather ‘round, class," Hagrid said, waving his large hands at them. "‘Ere you go. Thas th’ ticket." He was wearing a uniform of sorts, which reminded Harry of Dudley’s Smelting’s school clothes. The jacket was just as hairy as the one he had worn for the Yule Ball in Harry’s fourth year, but it reached almost to his feet, resembling a sort of trench coat. Hagrid’s boots were polished and his trousers looked new, rather than the patched, tattered ones he usually wore.

"Righ’ then. We’ve go’ a special treat for yeh today. Gather yer bags and follow me up ter the forest."

Harry and Hermione shared a nervous glance, both wondering if Hagrid’s little brother had anything to do with his excitability, not to mention how the Centaurs would react to a herd of students on the edge of the forest. At least, Harry hoped it was only the edge.

"Did you see what the oaf’s wearing?" Harry overheard Malfoy saying to Pansy Parkinson as they walked behind the mass of students. "Looks like he’s trying impress someone, but I can’t think who it’d be. Nobody listens to a word he says, let alone looks at him."

Pansy let off a peal of twittering that sent shivers up Harry’s spine and Hermione gave Harry a warning glance that clearly told him it wasn’t worth it. For once, Harry was inclined to agree.

As the forest loomed closer, Harry’s fears were soothed however, as he caught sight of a strange sort of beast tethered in a makeshift corral. Though by Harry’s estimation, the creature could easily break the thin-looking chain or rip out the post to which it was tied.

It was half-eagle, like a Hippogriff, but the back-end wasn’t a horse, it was more like a large cat, with huge hind paws that looked powerful and deadly. It made Harry think of the Sphinx from the Triwizard maze.

"A Griffin," Hermione said excitedly. "Those are really rare, aren’t they?"

"And really boring," Malfoy said under his breath so that only a few students around them could hear.

The rest of the class made a wary approach but stayed a good ten feet from where the beast was tearing at a piece of raw meat on the ground.

"Very good, Hermione," Hagrid said. "Tha’s a Golden Griffin, tha’ is. Got this ‘un from the Greek Ministry. Friend o’ mine there owed me summat and I called in the favour."

The Griffin looked up just then and seemed to stare straight at Harry. It jumped to its feet and trotted over to where Harry stood, the closest of the gathered students, and bowed its head over the top fence railing.

Harry didn’t know whether to run or be pleased at the attention.

"Tha’s a bit odd," Hagrid said as he walked over to the Griffin. "Did the same thing ter Ginny yesterday."

Harry couldn’t hide his surprise and was doubly so, when he saw Malfoy staring back at him with a look of triumph in his eyes.

*

After lunch, Harry and Hermione had a free period while Ron helped fill in a patrol slot for Roger Davies, who had broken his collar bone during a Quidditch practice the previous evening. Deciding they both needed to catch up on some homework, they headed to the Library.

At first, Harry had been focused on an Astronomy essay, but soon, his mind started to wander and he began to study ways to increase the power of a shield charm. In the last Defence class, Harry had been able to hold off almost all the hexes that had been thrown at him. All but the ones Professor McTierny had cast. Even his tickling jinx was able to get through Harry’s shield. When Harry had asked about it, the mysterious wizard only answered that any spell, if it was powerful enough, could bypass a shield charm.

Leaving Hermione to her Arithmancy equations, he wandered over to the Defence section and grabbed several promising-looking books. On his way back, he was stopped by a hand on his arm. Looking up, he discovered that the hand belonged to Cho Chang.

"Oh. Hello, Cho," said Harry, struggling to keep his books balanced in his arms.

"Hi, Harry," Cho replied. Her eyes were glistening and blinking. "I was hoping I’d find you here. I need to talk to you, Harry," she said, her fingertips making a lazy oval on the back of his arm. He caught a whiff of a spicy floral scent.

Harry chanced a glance over her shoulder and saw Hermione looking at them. "Well, I’m quite busy right now," he explained, motioning to the books with his head. "Maybe we can talk sometime later?"

Cho looked down to her feet and nervously pulled at her robes, which had the effect of emphasizing what the robes normally concealed. "I really need to talk to you, Harry. You’re the only one that could understand what I’m going through."

Suddenly guilty, Harry took a step back and said, "All right, but I need to get back to studying, or Ginny will skin me for failing. Catch me later?" Then, without offering her a chance to reply, he stepped around her and made a bee-line for his seat.

Relieving his aching arms by setting his books on the table, Harry plopped into his seat and let out a long, slow breath.

Hermione arched a brow and tore her eyes from a complicated graph in her book. "You and Cho have a nice chat?"

Harry laughed. "If you could call it that. She seemed very anxious about something, but wouldn’t tell me what it was."

"Oh, she’s anxious about something all right," Hermione said with a smirk. "The rumour-mill has it that she’s unhappy with Michael Corner and is looking for a replacement."

"Since when?" Harry asked, flabbergasted. "I thought they were keen on each other."

"Oh, they were. But apparently she’s too weepy for him or he’s still stuck on Ginny, depending on who you listen to."

"So," Harry said, "what’s that got to do with me?"

Hermione chuckled, pulling out a fresh piece of parchment from her bag. "She wants you back, Harry. Because you’re the only one that really listened to her," she said in a dramatic, breathy voice. "At least, that’s what Lavender Brown said."

Harry wiped his face and shook his head. "That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. Why would she want to go out with me? Besides, I’m spoken for."

"She reckons that if Michael puts on the charm, he can get Ginny away from you and the field will be clear."

Hiding his head in his hand, Harry let out a loud guffaw that, even muffled as it was, caused several students to look at them. "Hermione, where are you getting this crazy codswallop?"

"Harry, who have I been rooming with for the past five years? The all-knowing eyes and ears of the Hogwarts’ gossip and rumour mill."

"Yeah, I guess so. You’re not taking this crap seriously, are you?"

"Serious as a heart attack, Harry. You better watch yourself."

"Yeah, right," Harry replied. "I’m not worried about Ginny leaving me for Michael just like I’m not worried about Cho. That ship sailed, burned and sank with total loss of all hands, Hermione, and you, of all people, should know it."

Hermione turned back to her Arithmancy and said, "I’m just reporting the news; I make no guarantees about its validity."

Harry huffed and folded his arms across his chest, giving the closest book in the stack an appraising stare. "Well, if they want to play games, I think Ginny and I can arrange some play time into our schedule."

An hour later, Harry hadn’t touched his Astronomy essay, but was waist-deep in the theory behind shield spells. From what little he had read, it seemed that there hadn’t been much success in boosting the power of Protego.

"Hermione?" he asked quietly.

She looked up from her essay and said, "Yeah, Harry?"

"Do you think it’s possible to increase the power of a spell?"

Hermione looked thoughtful and pushed a bit of her hair behind her ear. "Theoretically, you can increase the power of any spell, but it takes enormous magical energy to gain even a fractional increase. Witches and wizards who have innate magical strength can cast more powerful charms than others, but the spell is just the same."

"Then how can McTierny get a tickling jinx past my shield spell? If the spells are the same power for each person...."

"Like I said, Harry, theoretically, it shouldn’t work that way. But for some people, the science of spellwork just doesn’t apply."

Harry scratched his head, thinking about a future that held at least one confrontation with Voldemort. "There’s got to be a way to deflect more powerful spells, Hermione. How can we increase the effectiveness of a shield charm?"

Propping an arm on the back of her chair, Hermione said, "Haven’t you been listening? There’s no way to do it. You’d have to build a whole new spell."

Harry’s eyes went wide and he grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. "That’s perfect!" he yelled, earning him a sharp glance from Madame Pince. He lowered his voice and continued, "What does it take to build a new shield spell?"

The hope in Harry’s eyes evaporated when he saw the bleak expression on her face. "There’s a whole division in the Ministry devoted to spell crafting, Harry. It’d take us years just to work out the calculations."

"Oh."

"But there might be a way we could merge two spells..." Hermione had a far-away look in her eyes as she began to scribble on her parchment and murmur under her breath. "...proportionately aggregated... collapsible power structures... but with indeterminate wave cycles..."

A bell rang somewhere in the distance and Hermione was brought back to the present. "Listen," she said as she quickly gathered her books and parchment together. "Let me think about this for a while and I’ll get back to you."

Harry shoved his stack of books on a nearby return cart and shouldered his bag. "Thanks, Hermione. I’d be lost with all of this," he said, motioning to the recently carted books with a hand.

"It’s my pleasure," she said with a nod. "Meet me in the common room after Quidditch practice. Bring Ron and Ginny, too. There’s something you need to see."

Wondering what his friend could want to show him, Harry followed her out of the library and to Herbology.

*

A soft breeze floated around the Quidditch pitch as Ginny walked from the changing rooms to the kick-off point. Her used Comet Three Sixty balanced lightly between her fingertips as she walked. It was a hand-me-down from Bill, who never had time to fly with a desk job at Gringotts, London, but was one of the most stable brooms ever made. There was much to be said for stability when you were a Chaser.

The small thrill of being chosen to fill Angelina and Alicia’s shoes on the team hadn’t left her and Ginny had made it her mission to live up to their greatness to the best of her ability.

The other Chasers, Captain Katie Bell and third year Natalie McDonald, were also out on the pitch, talking strategy, if Ginny could guess by their hand motions. Return Beaters Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke weren’t the best, but they had come a long way since last year and were busy hitting a single Bludger as hard as they could at each other.

Ginny adjusted the sports bra she’d borrowed from Katie and straddled her broom, wondering where her brother and boyfriend were. She closed her eyes for a moment and let her senses carry over the pitch. Her mind’s eye wandered into the changing rooms, a bright patch of energy announcing Harry’s presence. She relished that warmth, relaxing the small knot of worry that always wound its way into her mind when he was late.

As Harry and Ron made their way into the stadium, Ginny felt Harry’s energy change — from warm yellow, to yellow with streaks of cold blue shooting through it — the colour of fear.

"You ready, Ginny?" asked Katie as the older girl flew overhead, a Quaffle tucked under one arm.

Ginny opened her eyes and nodded. She kicked off to follow her Captain, but kept one eye on Harry.

Ron floated over to the goal posts and Katie started calling their first plays. Harry was still standing in the middle of the pitch, looking at his broom like he’d never seen it before.

"Porskoff ploy, followed by the Hawkshead," Katie said. "Let’s do it."

Reluctantly, Ginny tore her eyes off Harry and focused on the plays. As Katie handed off the Quaffle to Natalie, Ginny positioned herself underneath for the pass, but couldn’t shake a lingering sense of worry.

Fifteen minutes later, Katie finally noticed Harry’s predicament.

"Potter!" she yelled from across the pitch. "This isn’t Firebolt admiration day! Get on your broom and run some Seeker drills or I’ll have you running laps until midnight. You got that?"

Harry looked up to Katie and Ginny’s heart plummeted. Even from where they were, Ginny could see the wet tracks on his cheeks.

"Let me talk to him, Katie," Ginny said softly. "I think I know what the problem is."

Katie looked dubiously at her but nodded. "Make it quick. We’ve only got an hour of sunlight left and you can bet Slytherin won’t be lazing about in their practices."

With Katie’s permission, Ginny shot down to Harry and quickly took his hand in hers. "Let’s walk, Harry."

Harry sniffed and let her lead, his head hung low as they made their way around the inside ring of stands.

"I can’t fly, Ginny — I just don’t remember how," he said after a few minutes. "I mean, I can see myself flying, playing Quidditch, winning games, catching the Snitch.... I just — can’t seem to remember how to fly."

Harry stopped then and Ginny turned to look at him. "Harry," she said soothingly. Her hands were around his neck and she touched her cheek to his. "You forgot how to fly, it’s no big deal."

"No big deal?" he yelled, yanking his head away from hers.

But Ginny didn’t let him break away completely. "Yeah. It’s no big deal, you piddle-headed lout that I’m madly in love with. You didn’t forget about the most important thing in your life. When I was in the hospital, I was this far from hexing you again, starting the whole cycle over. You didn’t lose everything we’d gained together over the summer." Harry relaxed as she spoke and eventually, their heads were touching again. "Listen, Harry," Ginny continued. "You’re a brilliant flyer — I know this is rough, and that it will be tough to learn it all again, but the most stubborn witch in Gryffindor is going to help you. We’re in this together, love."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Harry’s mouth. Ginny kissed it, sucking his bottom lip with an exaggerated smacking sound. Unable to resist, Harry kissed her back until Ginny broke it off, mindful of their audience.

"We’ll get through this, Harry, all right? Just don’t give up."

Harry nodded his head and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Ginny." Then he straddled his broom and kicked off, rising shakily into the air.

Ginny followed suit, her heart heavy with joy and sadness, and reached out to Harry as he continued to struggle.

"Right," Katie said when she rejoined their formation. "One more go with the Hawkshead, then I want to try some of the new plays." Katie gave Harry a concerned glance as he lost control of his broom for a few seconds, then she threw the Quaffle at Natalie.

*

Despite Ginny’s attempts to comfort him, Harry’s mood grew steadily worse as their practice wound down. Thoroughly disgusted with himself, Harry didn’t even wait for Ginny to change out of her Quidditch robes before charging off to his dormitory.

The solitude he sought was not to be found however, as Neville and Seamus were playing a loud game of Exploding Snap in the middle of the dormitory floor. They didn’t even notice as Harry threw his robes halfway into his wardrobe and crawled into bed, pressing his pillow down over his ears.

Harry felt a distant ripple of anger but he shrugged it off, preferring instead to sink deeper into his covers. As Harry wondered what else he had forgotten since the spell, his pillow was viciously ripped from his hands and then smacked against his head with gusto.

"Harry James Potter, get out of that bed right now and stop your sulking."

Harry blinked and rolled over. Ginny Weasley was standing over him, her lips pressed together as if she were afraid something would sneak into her mouth. "What?" he asked, his calm voice in sharp contrast to her loud one.

"You know very well what," Ginny said, pulling the covers off of him and pulling on his arm until he was sitting. "Quit moping over the fact that you can’t fly any more and get downstairs right now."

Harry’s position on the bed presented a very pleasant view of Ginny and he found he couldn’t seem to meet her eyes — something seemed very different about her, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. "I can’t help it, Ginny. Flying was everything to me — well, almost everything," he amended.

"Harry," she said, with a hint of exasperation. "Look me in the eyes when you’re talking to me." She put her finger beneath his chin and tilted his face upward slightly and he saw a smirk playing around her lips. "Honestly, at least these things can get your attention now. Along with every other boy in the school," she lamented, cupping them with her hands in an exaggerated manner.

"I’ve always thought you were a looker, Ginny. They just seem — different now — and who’s been looking at you? The whole castle?"

"Relax, Harry," Ginny said as she sat on his lap. Seamus and Neville were still playing loudly and Harry vaguely heard an explosion go off. "They can look all they want. If they try to touch, I’m more than capable of hexing them all into next week."

Harry seemed only capable of nodding as he moved in for her lips. Suddenly, his predicament didn’t seem so bleak any more.

*

"You know," Ginny said as they walked down to the common room some time later, "I kind of like you without glasses."

"You keep saying that, but I don’t ever remem — " but as he said it, Harry instantly realized that this was simply another thing that he had forgotten. Along with flying and who knows what else. Still feeling happy from Ginny’s successful attempts to stop him from moping, Harry said, "Well, at least I don’t need them any more. I imagine forgetting would be a whole lot worse if I couldn’t see on top of that."

Ginny laughed and leaned into his shoulder as they made their way over to Ron and Hermione.

"You all right, mate?" Ron asked as he fingered the silver badge on his robe collar. "You seemed a little off at practice."

Harry glanced at Ginny, who gave his hand a re-assuring squeeze. "Yeah. I’ll be all right." Then turning to Hermione, he said, "So what’s this thing you wanted to show us, Hermione?"

Their bushy-haired friend seemed to brighten considerably at this. "Oh, it’s nothing much. Just a detailed account of what happened when Merlin performed the learning spell on his son."

Harry goggled at her.

"The learning spell?" asked Ginny. "You mean the spell that Dumbledore used on us?"

"Exactly," Hermione confirmed. "Well, not exactly...but close enough." She took out an ancient-looking book, much older-looking than the book Dumbledore had given Hermione the day they had first been told about it.

"I found this in the Restricted Section. It’s by Merlin’s great-grandson and is an outline of an interview he had with his grandfather just before he passed away."

"You mean it’s about Merlin’s..." started Ron.

"Son," Hermione confirmed. "So we can tell exactly what he went through and what changes happened because of the spell."

Harry cleared his throat in anticipation. "Well, what does it say? Does it talk about getting our memories back or anything?"

Hermione’s small faltered a little and she shook her head. "It doesn’t talk about how to overcome any of the side-effects, but it does talk about how to deal with them. Though you’ve already reversed Ginny’s memory loss, haven’t you?"

Ginny move her hand to Harry’s knee, her fingers lightly touching the inner part of this thigh. "So maybe we can find a way to undo some of the other effects as well," Ginny offered.

"Maybe," said Hermione, though she didn’t sound convinced. "I’ll just read some of the more applicable parts of the book and we can talk about it afterwards."

When they all nodded their agreement, Hermione opened the book and started turning pages. "Let’s see... Here. It says that when the spell is performed, it affects the part of the brain that’s responsible for learning, hence the name. It also affects the pituitary gland and in this case, Merlin’s son grew six inches in the two weeks following the spell’s casting. He was eight years old at the time."

Hermione paused and looked up to Harry. "That would explain the beard," Harry said wryly.

"And my bras," Ginny added. "I grew a cup size and couldn’t figure out why. Now I know."

Ron’s face turned red, but Harry just grinned. "You better not be thinking about my sister’s...um, things, Harry. Or I’ll have to Obliviate those particular images out of your head."

"What?" Harry asked with mock penitence. "Like you don’t think about Hermione’s things? She’s just as much of a sister to me as Ginny is to you. So unless you’re willing to stop lusting after her, I’m not going to stop, er..." Harry suddenly realized that the girls were both there when Ginny’s hand moved rather quickly up the inside of his leg. "...thinking about Ginny," Harry finished with an oddly-strangled sound to his voice.

"Right, then," Hermione said. "Now that you’ve thoroughly discussed our things, let’s get on with the book, shall we?"

"Yes," said Ron at same time that Harry said, "Right."

"Good. Now, the next thing it talks about is memory loss, which we’ve already touched on. It seems that in the process of inserting knowledge into the brain through the learning centre, the spell will often displace some things at random from the mind. It seems that Merlin’s son -- Godfrey was his name by the way -- lost all memory of how to walk. It took his parents two years to re-train him."

Harry stiffened and immediately felt Ginny’s mind brush his. Don’t worry, she said. I’ll get you back in the air faster than Ron can spell knickers.

Contorting his face to hold in a snort, Harry earned a glare from Hermione before she pressed on. "It also says that some of the effects went away with time; that if the person the spell was cast on didn’t practice the magic learned, it would be lost. Also, it seems that most of the forgotten memories came back within ten years."

"So if we have forgotten some things," Ginny said, "like Harry forgetting about his glasses, he’ll eventually remember?"

Hermione nodded and opened her mouth to say something when Harry interrupted.

"Does that mean my eyes will go bad again?"

Hermione turned to answer him and was interrupted by Ron. "Is that why you couldn’t fly to save your life this afternoon?"

"Ron, I’m — " Hermione said before Harry glared at Ron.

"It’s not like I had a choice in what I could forget, you know," Harry answered, running over Hermione’s reply.

"Harry — " Hermione tried again with similar success.

"We need you, Harry. The team’s counting on you," said Ron.

"Ron — "

"I’m doing the best I can," Harry gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Will you two stop it!" Hermione finally yelled. Harry and Ron turned to look at Hermione as if she had lost her marbles. Ginny just giggled into her hand.

"No, Harry, it doesn’t mean your eyes will go bad, but it does mean that you’ll remember that you wear glasses." Hermione closed the book and slid it into her bag. "As for you, Ron.... I’ll see you in the morning."

Hermione stalked off to the girls’ dormitories and Ron sat back in his seat. "What’s the matter with her?"

*

The first two training sessions with Professor McTierny were used to determine where Harry and Ginny were magically. McTierny had them go through all the spellwork they had learned and asked them several questions about how they understood certain spells to work. Much to Harry’s relief, he didn’t seem to be missing any major spells, though he did have trouble remembering the incantation for the full-body bind. By the end of their last lesson, Harry felt like he had been revising for exams for two weeks and could barely think straight. Ginny, however, was glad for the practice, claiming that it would be invaluable for her upcoming O.W.L.’s.

The next session was supposed to be a practical lesson and Harry was more than excited to learn something, rather than recite passages of text and basic wand movements.

Walking into the empty Defence classroom, Harry and Ginny waited at the end of the stairs that led up to the Professor’s office. There were piles of Quaffles, feathers, and pillows on the floor. When Harry gave Ginny a questioning glance, she only shrugged.

"Right on time," McTierny said as he descended the stairs. His trademark sunglasses were fixed firmly on his face. "Ready to get started, then?"

"Yes, Professor," Ginny said.

"Excellent. Just stand in the middle of the room there and we’ll get started."

Harry and Ginny faced each other by the Quaffle pile and waited.

McTierny walked over to a pile of feathers and selected two. He placed one each at Harry and Ginny’s feet and stepped back.

"Now," the professor said, stretching out a hand towards the red leather balls. "Observe, and see if you can tell which spells I’m using."

A Quaffle levitated from the pile and then flew towards his hand. When it reached the tips of his fingers, the Quaffle stopped, as if he had caught it, but when it started to slowly rotate, Harry knew that he was controlling the Quaffle’s motions with magic.

Staring at the now-spinning Quaffle, inches above McTierny’s hand, Harry tried to remember everything he had learned about wandless magic. It was supposed to disappear in wizards after they hit puberty. There were a precious few who had been able to hone the ability after reaching adulthood, but there were less than a handful every generation. As odd as the man in front of him was, Harry vowed to never cross him. The level of mental control that levitation and object manipulation like this required with a wand was unbelievable. For McTierny to be doing this without a wand was simply staggering.

The leather ball then flew back to join its mates and McTierny lowered his hand. "So which spells did I use?" he asked.

Ginny’s mouth dropped open. "You can do wandless magic?" she asked incredulously.

"Tsk, tsk, Miss Weasley. That doesn’t answer my question at all." He turned to Harry and said, "Mister Potter?"

"Um...right. Let’s see...Levitation, Summoning, more Levitation, some kind of manipulation spell I’ve never seen, then a Banishing charm."

"Excellent," McTierny said. "Five points to Gryffindor. Now, let’s have you try, shall we?"

"I’m sorry?" Ginny asked. "I don’t think I can do that with my wand...." Absolutely ludicrous, Harry heard Ginny say in his mind.

"Wands prevent a wizard from utilizing his full potential. You will find that as you focus your minds appropriately, you can use your magic much more powerfully without yours."

This set Harry’s mind whirring. "If magic can be performed more powerfully without a wand, why do we all use one?"

McTierny looked Harry in the eye and said, "Dumbledore was right, you do ask the right questions." But he didn’t answer. Instead he held out his hand and said, "Your wands."

Harry passed it over reluctantly. McTierny slipped it into his pocket and took Ginny’s next. "Close your eyes and picture a feather in your mind."

But Harry wasn’t done asking questions. "I don’t think I can do this. I mean, wouldn’t I have been able to do this before?"

McTierny raised an eyebrow at his cheek and said, "When was the last time you performed wandless magic?"

"Well," Harry said, thinking back to last year. "I made my wand light up when I couldn’t see it, during a Dementor attack."

"Exactly. This is no different; you just need the proper training. Now, the feather, if you please."

Still not satisfied, but wanting to get on with things, he closed his eyes and the image of a feather appeared in his mind. It was an exact replica of the one at his feet. "All right," Harry answered.

"Now tell your mind to make it float. You may find it easier to say the incantation in your head as you do this."

The feather was suspended in his mind, exactly the same as the one he had levitated in first year. It was about up to eye level and he wanted to lift it up to the ceiling but something stopped him.

"Don’t get carried away now," came McTierny’s voice.

Harry chanced a peek and saw in front of him a feather, hovering exactly as he pictured it. Ginny opened her eyes as well, squeaked, and the feathers floated soundlessly to the floor.

"There, that wasn’t too hard." McTierny pointed his hand at the feathers and they zoomed into his palm. "Tell me, did either of you say the incantation?"

"No. I — I didn’t," said Ginny. All of a sudden, she sat on the floor and put her head between her knees.

"Me neither," Harry said. He was still a bit surprised at his ability to levitate the feather. Was it possible? His head felt light and the classroom spun slightly as he tried to balance himself.

"Steady, lad," said McTierny as he held Harry’s shoulder to keep him from toppling over. "You’ll feel a bit lightheaded as you begin to utilize your natural abilities, but it should wear off with practice." Harry’s world stopped spinning and the older wizard let go of his shoulder. "Is this the first time you’ve reacted like this to using wandless magic?"

Harry shook his head to clear the last vestiges of disorientation and said, "Not really."

"Interesting," he said without further articulation. "We’ll work on summoning and banishing when you’ve gotten used to levitation, and then more complicated magic once you’ve mastered those."

With that, they began working in earnest and Harry regretted that he had ever looked forward to this.

*

Walking past the winged boars statues that marked the boundary of Hogwarts, Harry and Ginny paused, took deep breathes, then linked arms and sauntered into Hogsmeade village. Harry was nervous. It was his first official date with Ginny and he didn’t want to muck things up. He wanted it to be perfect.

They stopped at a few shops and did some window shopping, Harry making mental notes of the things that gave her particularly good reactions. To his surprise, Ginny didn’t care much for jewellery.

Ginny simply shook her bracelet loose from the sleeve of the jumper she was wearing — his jumper from fourth year, the one with the dragon emblazoned on it, and said, "This is all the finery I need, Harry." Then she paused and with a playful twinkle in her eyes, amended, "Well, this and maybe someday...a ring."

With a soppy grin on his own face, Harry felt something deep move inside of him and he thought that nothing could make him happier than to be the one to put a ring on her finger.

"So where are we off to next?" Harry asked. Remembering that Ginny wasn’t wearing at least one proper foundational garment, said, "You said you needed to pick up some clothes?"

"Right," Ginny said, with a playful wiggle of her torso. "Need to get some new bras and blouses — maybe a camisole or two while I’m at it."

When they arrived at Gladrag’s, Harry balked. "You, uh…don’t need me in there to help you or anything, do you?"

Ginny giggled. "I suppose Mum would skin you alive if I coaxed you into the changing stalls, wouldn’t she?" When Ginny saw Harry’s face burning, she prodded further. "You’d like that I bet, wouldn’t you?"

"What?" asked Harry, regaining some of his composure. "The bit about your mum skinning me? I’ll have to pass, thanks."

With a soft backhand to Harry’s torso, Ginny planted her lips on his and lingered for a moment before backing away. "That will have to keep you satisfied until later," she said, a little breathless. "You run off to Zonko’s or something. But don’t go to Quality Quidditch without me. You got that, Potter?"

"Yes, ma’am," Harry said smartly. "Get you’re things and meet me at the Three Broomsticks in an hour. I’ll be with Ron and Hermione — if I can get them out of Flourish and Blott’s."

Ginny walked into the store with another lingering glance at Harry and disappeared among the racks of clothes.

Harry sighed and turned around — right into a pack of sixth year boys.

"Watch it, Potter," said Dean Thomas. "Too love struck with Ginny to see where you’re going?"

Harry ducked his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Hey guys."

"Ho, ho," Seamus said as he sidled up to Harry and slung a lazy arm over his shoulders. "It’s not love struck, Dean. I think the problem here is that he’s been whipped."

Dean guffawed and Neville chuckled nervously, as if he couldn’t decide to side with Harry or their other dorm mates.

"Hey," Harry protested good-naturedly. "I’ll have you know that I’m still perfectly capable of making my own decisions."

"Yeah?" Dean asked, crooking a brow as Seamus steered Harry towards the Three Broomsticks.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed. "Like I can hang out with you guys all I want."

Seamus adjusted direction abruptly and steered him towards Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Harry gulped and started to resist. Dean slung another arm around Harry’s shoulders and helped Seamus as they half-drug, half-carried Harry towards the shop.

Exercising the reflexes that made Harry an all-star Seeker, he ducked underneath their arms and spun around on the gravel path to face them. "I, uh…just can’t go in there."

Seamus looked at Neville, then to Dean, and back at Harry. "Yep. Whipped, I tell you."

Neville finally broke down and let out an odd croaking laugh, while Dean and Seamus were hanging on to each other as if they would collapse from their extreme laughter.

Harry gave a nervous chuckle and said, "When you meet the right girl, you’ll appreciate being whipped, too."

They didn’t even bother to reply, though Dean waved a hand in Harry’s direction as they walked into the Quidditch shop.

Harry walked straight to the bric-a-brac shop that he and Ginny had been to earlier — the one on the corner across from Madame Puddifoot’s.

There in the display case in the window of the shop was a silver and glass unicorn the size of a pack of cards. Its hooves, horn and mane were all touched with real silver, while the body was made of frosted crystal. Ginny had fallen in love with it and Harry was determined to get it for her.

Walking out of the shop with a slightly lighter coin purse and neatly wrapped box, Harry took a few jaunty steps toward the Three Broomsticks and was immediately set upon by a girl with straight black hair.

"Hello, Harry," Cho said breathily. Her robes and blouse were both unbuttoned to show some skin as a sickly-sweet aroma resembling some kind of flower assaulted his nose. "I’ve been waiting for you."

"Um, yeah," Harry said as he extracted himself from her grip. "That’s great."

She blocked his retreat and forced him down a vacant alley behind the tea shop. "You need to give me another chance, Harry," she said, blinking wildly while running her fingers up his school tie.

Harry’s back hit the wall and he almost fell over a rusted garbage skip propped next to the back door. "I don’t think that’s going to work, Cho. I’m with Ginny now and that’s not going to change."

"Don’t be that way, Harry. I know it can work if you’d just give me another chance," she said, her face changing from plaintive to hard as she took a step back from him. "Don’t make me do this, Harry," she said as she pulled a wand from her bag.

For a brief second, Harry thought she might hex him. Instead, she pointed the wand at her neck and said, "Sugere." She sucked in a breath as a deep purple welt appeared just under her jaw bone. Then much to Harry’s wonder she reached up under her robes and skirt tugging until he heard fabric rip. Next she tore a section of her robes by the arm.

"If you tell me no again, I’ll scream. Afterwards I’ll tell everyone that you tried to force yourself on me. You’ll be expelled and probably thrown into Azkaban." Her eyes bore into his and Harry found no beauty there, only pain. "I know it can work, Harry; don’t make me do this," she pleaded.

"Why?" Harry asked. "Why are you doing this at all?"

Cho took another step towards him and with her chin outstretched, said, "I love you, Harry — I’ve always loved you. I made a huge mistake last year and I want you to try to love me back."

Harry searched her face, looking for any sense of deceit or some mark of compulsion making her do this against her will. Finding nothing, Harry set his jaw. "No, Cho. Love doesn’t work like that. You can’t make someone fall in love with you, and even if you could, you won’t find what you’re looking for with me."

Looking like she had been slapped, Cho recoiled into the opposite wall.

Harry took the opportunity to bolt out into the alley, only to be stopped by Cho’s piercing scream.

"Help!" yelled Cho, stumbling out onto the main street, her robes torn worse than before. She waved a shaky finger at Harry and then broke into a sobbing, keening cry.

Harry bolted away, unsure of where he could find sanctuary, but certain that he could not stay in Hogsmeade any longer.

*

Harry had only seen Professor McGonagall angry a handful of times, but he had never seen sparks fly from her wand. Cho sat in a chair on the far side of McGonagall’s desk, while Harry sat in another.

"Tell me what is going on this instant," she said heatedly. "I’ve heard from ten students that you," she pointed to Harry, "tried to sexually assault her." McGonagall’s finger moved in Cho’s direction.

"You first, Mister Potter."

Harry, despite knowing the truth, was instantly nervous. "Y-You see, Professor...it’s like this. Cho cornered me in the alleyway and asked me to give her another chance..."

"Another chance at what?" McGonagall asked.

"Well, she said that she loved me and that she wanted me to love her back."

The Professor nodded and indicated that he should continue. "S-She got really mad when I refused her and gave herself that bruise with a spell. Then she ripped her robes and threatened to tell everyone I had tried to force myself on her if I refused her again."

"And?" McGonagall said after Harry paused.

"I told her I was in love with Ginny and that she needed to let me go. When I stepped out of the alley, she started screaming." Harry hung his head and threaded his fingers through his hair.

"Miss Chang?" McGonagall said. "Your wand please."

Harry looked up to see Cho hand her wand to McGonagall. The Professor touched the tip of her wand to it and said, "Priori Incantatem."

A ghostly mist rose from her wand that formed the shape of a pair of wings. Next was a cushion, then a pair of blinking eyelashes, a blue shimmering spell that Harry didn’t recognize, and on it went. After several minutes, Professor McGonagall seemed like she hadn’t found what she was looking for and stopped the spell.

"A levitation charm, cushioning spell, glamours, transfiguration spells. No sucking spell, Mister Potter." McGonagall extended Cho’s wand back to her and Harry caught a flash of triumph on the Head Girl’s face.

Harry thought back to the alleyway. The wand in her hand, positioned to cast the spell on her neck was black. The one in McGonagall’s hand was light brown. Harry straightened his back and extended his hand to Cho. "Accio Spare Wand!"

Out from under her robes, came a shiny black wand. Cho make a grab for it, but despite her efforts, it sped to Harry’s hand.

McGonagall’s eyes rose as she tracked the wand’s progression, then narrowed as she looked back to Cho. The Head Girl was breathing heavily, bent forward on her chair as she stared at the wand in Harry’s hand.

Without a word to either student, McGonagall took the wand from Harry and performed the spell again. This time, the first spell to come out resembled a pair of lips, pinched together exactly like they would had they been sucking on something.

"Would you care to explain this, Miss Chang?" McGonagall said patiently. "You realize that these sort of false accusations are a grave matter and that the punishment will be most severe."

*

Walking back to Gryffindor Tower, Harry tried to rationalize Cho’s behaviour and came up short every time. Why would she be so desperate to get him to like her? Wasn’t it obvious that he was in love with Ginny?

Ginny. In all the turmoil since he had left Hogsmeade, Harry had completely forgotten about his date with Ginny. She was not going to be happy.

As soon as he opened the portrait, he saw Ginny waiting on the other side, her arms folded across her chest, her toe tapping impatiently, and a scowl fixed on her face.

"Forget something, Harry?" she asked, her eyes boring into him like a severing charm.

"I — I, um...." In the face of her wrath only two things could penetrate his thoughts: when she was angry, Ginny was awfully powerful and fantastically pretty. He simply lost his ability to string two words together.

Ginny stepped forward and Harry flinched. Her arms became uncrossed and she took a probing sniff with her nose. "What’s that? You’ve been with Cho Chang?"

Harry backed up until his back hit the inside of the Fat Lady’s portrait. "Uh, well....you see...."

Ginny let loose a string of words that Harry was certain he had never heard before, even from her older brothers. "I leave you for two seconds and that tart pounces on you, eh? Who does she think she is? And what have you got to say for yourself, Harry?"

Defeated, Harry walked forward and captured her in a hug. "I’m sorry," he mumbled into her shoulder. The sharp contrast between the light scent on Ginny’s neck and the wretched perfume on Harry’s robes was striking. It was like the difference between a whisper and a roaring freight train. There was no doubt which one he preferred.

Ginny took a shuddering breath and said, "Tell me what happened, Harry. Why didn’t you meet me?"

Harry pulled away and said, "You mean you haven’t heard? I thought everyone would have been told by now."

Shaking her head, Ginny led him to a secluded corner of the common room. "Tell me."

"No," Harry said as they sat. "I’d rather show you."

They joined hands and faced each other on the sofa. Harry closed his eyes and leaned forward, his forehead making contact with Ginny’s halfway. Soon, his memories of that afternoon were flowing into Ginny’s mind and Harry began to feel waves of conflicting emotions roiling off of her. Anger, sadness, compassion, and finally, joy — when the memory of Harry being cleared in McGonagall’s office played back — all echoed in his mind.

"Harry," she said softly. "Why?"

"I don’t know," Harry replied. "I really don’t think she’s got her priorities straight, though."

Ginny flung her arms around Harry’s neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. "You wait here. I’m going to kill a certain Head Girl."

She stood, but Harry grabbed her hand. "Don’t, Ginny. I’ve got a much better idea for dealing with Cho."

*

The next Saturday was much cooler than it had been for Hogsmeade weekend. A storm had blown through mid-week and cleared out the lingering bits of summer, making Harry long for more time with Ginny by the lake. Soon, it would be too cold for extended stints in the open and they would be relegated to the castle.

Ginny had been true to her word and had trained Harry how to fly again; although Harry was far from being where he was the year before, he knew that he had a fighting chance.

"You ready to wipe the pitch with Slytherin?" asked Katie Bell, walking down the Gryffindor table at lunch. Like Oliver Wood, she was making sure that her team was eating while taking nothing for herself.

"Aye, Captain!" they yelled back. It had become their custom after hearing that Katie had a weakness for literature; she especially loved Moby Dick.

"Eat up and meet in the changing rooms in one hour. We’ve got some last minute planning to do, then we’re going to show Malfoy what it means to really fly." Katie slapped each member on the back and walked out of the Great Hall.

"Probably off to polish all our brooms," Ron said with a shake of his head.

"Nah," offered Ginny. "More likely she’s going to pace in front of the door to the pitch until we show up."

Ginny had been right, for when the team filed into the changing rooms, Katie was suited-up and ready for the game. With one last pep talk, they filed out onto the pitch, a nervous bubble wringing Harry’s stomach.

When they kicked off and were preparing for Madame Hooch’s whistle, his worry increased, as Malfoy took no time to start his taunts.

"Forget how to fly Potter?" he asked when Harry’s broom rocked a little as they reached altitude. "Or did your fancy broom finally give up on trying to make you a decent flier?"

Harry grumbled and glanced at Ginny, who was shooting daggers at Malfoy. She was so distracted, that when the Quaffle was released, she completely missed her pass and Slytherin took possession.

"Your girlfriend’s no better than you, Potter," laughed Malfoy as they started looking for the Snitch. "Then again, she’s been trailing along after you for so long, maybe she’s finally been able to do something other than try to get into your pants."

Harry seethed inside, wanting nothing more than to punch Malfoy’s smug little face. But the fact that Harry had to focus so completely on his flying, just to stay on his broom, made it almost impossible to make any kind of reply. He could only afford to pay attention to the game commentary when he was going straight — and going straight during a match could be deadly.

A Bludger whizzed by Harry’s head and he ducked clumsily to avoid it, earning another round of chortling from the Slytherin Seeker.

"Slytherin scores!" yelled Gary Stebbins — who had taken the commentating spot when Lee Jordan left school the previous year — so loudly that even Harry heard him.

Harry took a shallow dive and concentrated to hear the score. "Thirty to ten, Gryffindor," said Stebbins.

The match went on like that for another hour, while Harry’s flying skills gradually declined. Gryffindor’s lead increased as Ginny, Natalie, and Katie began to execute their plays with speed and precision. Even the Slytherin Beaters, who were far better than Jack and Andrew, couldn’t seem to touch the gold and red-clad girls.

When the score was 190 to 60, Harry spotted the Snitch. It was hovering just behind the lower-right Gryffindor goalpost. One thing that Harry hadn’t forgotten, was how to Seek and with his improved eyesight, he only needed to give himself enough of a lead to beat Malfoy to the Snitch. Harry knew that his flying was too poor for anything else to work — he just needed to get Malfoy looking the other way.

Diving as fast as he could manage without losing his broom, Harry took Malfoy on a feint, vaguely aware of the attention the two Slytherin Beaters his dive had garnered him. Spotting Ginny with the Quaffle, he edged towards her and sent his mind’s eye to her. He felt her determination and skill as she passed off to Katie.

Using his link to know when the Quaffle was going to be passed next, Harry took Malfoy right into its path and barely avoided colliding with a Bludger as every player on the pitch converged on one location.

Ginny seemed to realise what Harry was doing at the last moment and barrel-rolled out of his way just in time. The Quaffle hit Malfoy square in the nose and Harry pulled his broom around as best he could, making it arc slowly around until it was pointed in the general direction of the Gryffindor goals.

With Malfoy distracted by a bloody nose, Harry was free to carefully race towards the Snitch. Gratefully, he still saw a sparkle of gold in the afternoon sunlight as it flitted around the base of the post. Taking a chance, Harry looked back to see Malfoy gaining on him. When he looked forward again, he found his broom dipping down and had to overcompensate to avoid hitting the ground.

Harry urged his broom faster, his hands sweating profusely and his mind singly on the Snitch — which was now flushed from its cover and racing towards the opposite side of the pitch.

Malfoy made the turn quicker and, before Harry could blink, had caught the Snitch.

A great cheer rang out from the green section of the stands and both Harry and Malfoy stared unbelievingly at the struggling ball in the latter’s hand.

Malfoy had beaten Harry for the first time since they had been at Hogwarts and Harry couldn’t bear the thought of it. He aimed his broom for the Forbidden Forest and took off, unaware of the stunned looks on his housemates’ faces.

Previous 1: Beginnings 2: Discussions 3: Things Learned, Things Forgotten 4: The Fall of the Lion 5: Communication Breakdown 6: Maidencombe Beach 7: Christmas on the Coast 8: Dumbledore's Return Next