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Harry couldn’t see much as he blasted into the forest; tears were streaming too freely for him to see properly and he gritted his teeth in frustration. The look on Malfoy’s face haunted him. The Slytherin’s laughter rang mockingly in Harry’s mind. Part of his conscious mind observed that had he been travelling this fast during the match, maybe he would have caught the Snitch. Then he wouldn’t have to face the disappointed looks on his team-mates’ faces. He couldn’t face them — not now, especially Ron. Especially Ginny.

Once he was into the forest proper, Harry dove recklessly, branches lashing at his face and arms, leaving his robes in tatters. The pain in his limbs distracted him from the bitter taste of defeat, the flavour of ashes. He pushed the Firebolt faster, darting clumsily around trees, being slapped in the face and head by thin saplings and whippy pine boughs.

When Harry turned particularly sharply around an almost leafless oak, he just about slammed into another flier. Some part of his brain processed the image — it was Ginny. Harry pulled up short, a scarce few feet from colliding with the redhead, bouncing roughly off of the oak instead. Leaning up against the oak, he bowed his head in defeat — the beatings from the branches now only a dull memory in the face of his humiliation.

"Harry?" Ginny’s gentle voice asked.

"No, Ginny," Harry replied shakily. "I can’t face them now. I can’t even face you."

Ginny hovered closer to him and reached out a hand. Harry didn’t stop her from touching him, torn between his shame and his need for comfort.

"I’m so sorry, Harry," she murmured. "I don’t know what it means to you to lose something like this, but I want to try. I want to help you."

Harry shrugged, unable to put what he felt into words.

Ginny sensed this, pulling Harry into a warm embrace, planting her lips on his forehead. A cask of emotions burst inside him and he lost control. Crying like he had once before in Ginny’s arms, Harry didn’t fight it. At least in the Forbidden Forest there would be no witnesses to this moment of weakness.

When the last of his tears had fallen, Ginny wiped his cheeks with her sleeve.

"Ow," Harry exclaimed, drawing a hand to where she had rubbed his face

"Oh, sorry," soothed Ginny. "I forgot about your cuts."

Remembering his careless flight through the trees, Harry chuckled. "Me, too." Then, looking at her for the first time since she had cornered him, Harry said, "Thanks for coming for me. Thanks for rescuing me — again."

Ginny laughed. "I’ve got to rescue you a bunch more times before we’re even, Harry, so consider this a down payment."

Harry’s smile waned and he looked forlornly towards the castle. "I can’t go back, Ginny. I can’t ever make up to the team for losing to Slytherin, to Malfoy."

"That’s a load of tosh and you know it," Ginny said matter-of-factly. "You’re allowed to lose from time to time, even to the albino ferret boy. Besides, you act as if this whole thing was your fault. You didn’t have any say over which memories would be lost. You didn’t get to pick losing the thing you were best at...."

"Hey, at least I didn’t forget the most important thing — like someone else I know," Harry protested.

Harry’s voice had grown soft and as they continued to hover there, he could tell that Ginny had grown bashful. "Am I?"

"’Am I’ what?"

"The most important thing in your life?"

Harry nuzzled her behind the ear with his nose and whispered, "Yes. Definitely."

Ginny shivered and pulled back a fraction of an inch to stop him from blowing on her neck. "Good," she said, holding onto him for a moment before slapping him on the rump. "That means this whole flying thing shouldn’t be such a downer. You’ve got a lot of good things going for you and I’m one of them, right?"

Harry gave a small nod.

"Then suck it up and get back to the changing rooms." Ginny pointed to a particularly nasty gash in Harry’s shoulder and said, "You’d better see Madame Pomfrey, too, because I think these cuts may be beyond what I can..."

Ginny stiffened and then let out a piercing scream, pointing over Harry’s shoulder. There, standing among the pines and oaks, stood Hagrid’s little brother, Grawp.

"Want Hagger," the giant bellowed and took a lumbering step towards them.

Acting on instinct alone, Harry pulled Ginny onto his Firebolt and forced it to climb rapidly. Ginny held onto her broom with one hand and held onto Harry’s waist tightly with the other.

Harry turned sharply to the right and wove around the large trunks of several trees. Grawp’s lumbering steps could be heard behind them and Harry accelerated, all too aware of Ginny’s precarious grip on his middle and her broom tucked under her free arm.

They finally broke free of the trees, but Harry knew that Grawp’s presence on the castle lawn wouldn’t be well received and dove back into the forest, leading Grawp back to where they had found him. Shooting through a clearing, Harry made sure that the giant had made it to a meadow within the forest, and — with one hand holding onto Ginny — pulled up hard on his broom until they were rocketing skyward. In the back of his mind, Harry could hear Grawp still hollering for Hagrid, but when Harry looked back at the top of their climb, the giant hadn’t left the clearing.

Ginny relaxed behind him as they descended slowly towards the Quidditch pitch. Ginny’s bare hand pushed into Harry’s robes and wrapped around his middle. I know someone who just flew better than Dai Llewellen, her voice sing-songed into his head.

Harry started and almost fell off his broom. "I did, didn’t I?" he said to himself. "I don’t know how, but I remembered how to fly just then!"

With a whoop of joy, Harry pushed the broomstick down towards the earth, kicking it into high-speed and rolling several times for good measure — with Ginny screaming behind him, "HARRY POTTER, DON’T YOU DARE PLOUGH US INTO THE GROUND! I’M TOO YOUNG TO — AIEEEEE!"

*

Harry’s grin hadn’t dimmed since the broom ride back to Hogwarts, even when Madame Pomfrey was cleaning his wounds. The normally stern matron was in an abnormal rush when he arrived, gathering different potions and supplies and stuffing them into a satchel.

"Going somewhere?" Harry asked when she had finished applying the last of his bandages.

"Never you mind, Mister Potter," Pomfrey said as she stuffed another jug of an unknown potion into her bag. It must have had an expansion charm on it because the jug was at least half again as big as the satchel.

Harry adjusted the gauze on his forehead with his uninjured arm, saying, "It looks like whoever you’re visiting needs to be in St. Mungo’s, with all the potions you’re going to give them."

Madame Pomfrey snapped the lid on her bag shut and turned to face Harry. She gave him an appraising stare that sent shivers up his spine. "If you must know, I’m going to visit the Headmaster. He needs a daily regimen of replenishment potions to keep his strength up, as he can’t feed himself."

"Oh," Harry said. A brief pang of guilt coursed through Harry as he realized that he hadn’t considered Dumbledore at all since the spell, having been caught up in his own problems. "Is he... is he all right?"

"I can’t be certain, of course, but he seems to be recovering nicely." Then with a rare smile, she helped Harry stand. "Now you best be off to your dormitory for a nap. Blood replenishment potions often cause drowsiness. Normally I’d keep you here overnight, but as I won’t be here to make sure that you stay put, I’m going to have to discharge you to the dormitory and hope for the best."

Harry grinned and shuffled off to the door. He had almost closed it when he turned to look back at the matron, who was disappearing into a green wall of flame in the infirmary fireplace.

*

November 22, 1996

Dear Mum,

The first couple of months at Hogwarts have been very busy and full of surprises. I thought that nothing would be as odd as last year, what with me hexing Harry and Snape and all. You already know about the learning spell of course — you did sign the permission letter and all — but what you probably don’t know is that after Harry and I were put under the spell, we were both in a coma for a while. When I woke up, I had forgotten all about last summer. Harry was very patient with me, and despite the fact that I nearly hexed him when he told me we were an item, he found a way to restore my memories. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t. Being with Harry is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Mum. Don’t tell him this, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything, even with his moodiness.

Remember how bitterly I complained my third year that I was so meagrely developed? Well, while I was in that coma, my boobs grew a full cup-size. I tried all sorts of charms, but in the end, I had to replace all of my bras, my blouses and camisoles. When I went into Hogsmeade on the first weekend, I bought some replacements; I had to charge them to our family’s account, so I hope that you don’t get too upset with me. I only bought two of each, which is the bare minimum for school. If there’s any way that we can swing it financially, I really need two more of everything, but I’ll understand if we aren’t able to.

The really big news is Cho Chang. She was selected as Head Girl this year. You may remember that and she and Harry had a tiny relationship last year. When I say tiny, I mean really insignificant. She kissed Harry once and they went on one date before she broke it off with Harry. She’s a total nutcase, if you ask me. Well, she attacked Harry in Hogsmeade when I was buying bras (if I had had Harry in the changing room with me when I was being fitted, none of this would have happened — I might add). She told him she loved him and wanted him back, but Harry stood his ground and defended his relationship with me. Such a sweet boy. She ripped her robes and hexed herself with a hickey sucking charm, then tried to get people to think he’d tried to rape her! I told you she was mental.

When McGonagall sorted everything out, Harry was cleared of all charges (no big surprise there) and Cho lost her Head Girl badge. Tracy Davis, a Slytherin, was named Head Girl in her place. According to Hermione, Roger Davies, the Head Boy, is less than happy and has made Prefect’s meetings shorter than ever. Ron’s chuffed because he thinks he’ll get more snogging in with shorter meetings. I told him I wouldn’t tell you that of course, but he forgot to lend me his Herbology notes from last year, so...there you are.

On the athletic front, Harry’s flying was affected by the learning spell and his dodgy flying cost us the game with Slytherin, but we’ve worked that out since then.

Well, that’s all for now. I’m going to be really busy this year with O.W.L.’s and all, so don’t expect the ultra-long weekly letter like last year. According to Ron, I’ll be so busy with revising come March, that I won’t even have time to breathe. I think he’s just sore that Hermione’s going to be planning all of his time, spare and otherwise for the next two years. Hee hee.

With Love,

Ginny

*

When Ginny had finished with her letter, she folded it into thirds and sealed it into an envelope with a charm her brother Bill had taught her. Only the recipient or a skilled curse-breaker could unlock the letter now.

Her roommates were taking their turns in the shower, so Ginny took a moment to write her letters and make sure Harry had made it back to his room. When the familiar yellow light on the edge of her consciousness tracked its way into Gryffindor Tower, Ginny gave a sigh of relief.

"Whatcha thinking about?" asked Steph as she walked into the dorm, lazily drying her hair with her towel. Stephanie Carter was a brunette with simple, yet pleasant, features. Some would call her dour, but Ginny had always appreciated her sharp wit and dry sense of humour.

Steph walked over to her bed and perched herself on the edge, still watching Ginny for a reaction.

"Nothing," Ginny said in a weak attempt to deflect her questions. Ginny’s summer had been the subject of conversation too often for her liking and so she had made it a point to avoid it whenever possible. She wasn’t about to fill her in on the workings of an Egretic bond that allowed her to track the comings and goings of her boyfriend.

"You were thinking about Harry again, weren’t you?" Steph finished drying her hair and stood in front of a full-length mirror to begin brushing the shoulder-length tresses out. "I can tell by the way you hold your shoulders. It’s always the same when it’s Harry in your head."

"He’s special, Steph. I can’t help it."

"Ah yes, true love," she said, making a sickening expression before she broke into a brief laugh. "Seriously, Ginny, you’ve changed since last year and frankly, Kate and I are a little worried about you."

Ginny pulled off her blouse and searched for her pyjamas among the wadded-up clothes in her wardrobe. "If you’re thinking that this is first year all over again, don’t. Harry isn’t the same as Tom and you know it. He’s good and lets me make decisions without feeling guilty and..."

Steph held out her hand, halting Ginny’s protests. "I know, Ginny. Just...be careful, okay? Being in love is one thing, losing your identity is another thing altogether."

Ginny let out her breath. There were times she wanted to explain everything to her friends — the bond, the spell, everything...but something always held her back. She gave Steph a small smile and said, "I will."

"So what’d I miss?" asked Kate, who breezed in to sit on Ginny’s bed. "You were talking about the raven-haired wonder again, weren’t you? You know, there are a number of girls who would like the straight information on those lips."

Kate McCloud was as opposite of Steph as one could be. She was dead in the morning and perky at night, always the last one to end a conversation and the first to start it up again. Her grades were average, but her passion for animals was legendary, earning her special praise from Hagrid during Care of Magical Creatures.

"Yeah, and stop calling him that. He’s sensitive to names like that," Ginny admonished.

"Oh, fiddle faddle," Kate replied. "I bet you’ve got loads of pet names for him, don’t you?"

Letting only a slight blush creep onto her cheeks, Ginny finished dressing into her night clothes and sat back on her bed. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Kate let out a high-pitched cackle and rolled her head back for extra effect. "He’s a keeper, Ginny. Anyone that makes you blush, is worthy of your affection."

Ginny shared a look with Steph and said, "Actually, he’s a Seeker, and yes, he is blush-worthy."

"Speaking of which," Steph interjected, "what are you going to do about the now-former Head Girl seeking Harry’s affections?"

"Nothing," Ginny answered automatically, hoping it didn’t come out too fast. "She’s been revealed for what she is — a cheap tart who doesn’t know when to quit."

"Uh, huh," Kate said. "So when are you going to prank her?"

Ginny levelled a stare at her friend. "And what makes you think I’m even thinking about such a thing? Honestly."

Steph sat on Ginny’s other side and said, "If anyone deserves it, she does."

"It’s the only way to get her to leave you alone, you know," Kate said.

Steph was nodding and Ginny had to whip her head back and forth between them as they spoke. "You’ve got to mark your territory — make it known that you’re serious about Harry."

"Yes. Or Cho may get the impression that you don’t care," Kate said.

Steph rolled her eyes. "We know that you do, of course."

"But Cho obviously doesn’t," finished Kate.

"Listen," said Ginny as she stood to face them both at the same time. "Harry and I have the whole thing under control. You don’t need to worry about it."

"Ooh," they chorused together.

"So it is a prank! A double-prank!" Kate cheered. "Do give us fair warning if it involves things that transform or explode, okay?"

Ginny looked between the two girls and shook her head. "You’re both mental, you know that?"

"Yes, yes. Just tell us before you do it, all right? I really, really want pictures for my album," pleaded Steph.

Reluctantly, Ginny nodded. "All right. But no telling anyone. You got that? Or you’ll be the next on the hit list."

*

Uncle Moony,

Greetings from the historic pranking grounds of the Marauders, past and present. I thought I’d give you fair warning that Ginny and I are cooking up some pranks worthy of your legacy. The reason for the pranks involves one former Head Girl, Cho Chang. Last year, she and I had an ill-fated, short-run relationship of sorts that ended on what I assumed to be amicable terms. According to her, she’s still in love with me and wants me to ditch Ginny. Now, assuming that I’d even survive the experience of telling Ginny that I was going to leave her, why does Cho think I want to be back with her? Nothing ever worked in that relationship. Nothing. I tried to tell Cho that — that Ginny and I were serious and I wanted to keep it that way — but she was having none of that.

So on my first official outing with Ginny — the first Hogsmeade weekend, I left Ginny at Gladrags so she could buy some unmentionables and I went to pick up a gift for her. Cho found me just after I left the shop and cornered me in an alley behind Madame Puddifoots. She tried to force me to agree to leave Ginny and threatened to claim I’d raped her if I didn’t. The stupid cow actually ripped her own knickers and robes and gave herself a hickey! I did the dumbest thing I could do in the situation and ran. When the dust settled, Cho lost her badge and I gained yet another reputation — that of a two-timing pervert. At least, that’s what the majority of girls in Ravenclaw think. Stupid House loyalty.

Ginny and I are doing well. We’ve had some rough patches, but working through them has brought us closer together. The biggest thing is that we’ve really become, well, closer lately. It’s a little scary to be that involved with another person. I feel like my life is so out of control — especially when I’m around her. One second, we’re just good friends, then we’re snogging away and then all of a sudden, I can’t control where my hands are and she’s driving me completely insane with the noises she’s making and... I guess that was too much information, wasn’t it? I just need some advice, really. Are all relationships like this? Or does Ginny affect me this way because of our bond, or are the Ravenclaw girls correct and I am a depraved pervert... or what?

Sincerely Clueless,

Harry

*

Walking down the stairs to the Entrance Hall, Harry passed by a knot of Ravenclaw third-years, who all gave Harry looks colder than the late November breeze outside the castle. He did his best to ignore them and to not look at their table as he sat in his usual spot across from Ron and Hermione. Ginny usually slept in on Sunday morning, so this was now the unofficial time when the original trio would get together and talk.

"Pass the pepper, Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry handed it over and watched as his friend poured a few shakes on his scrambled eggs, not looking at Harry once. Glancing at Hermione, Harry raised an eyebrow in question, to which Hermione mouthed the word ‘Quidditch’.

Forking a mouthful of his own eggs, Harry chewed and carefully considered Ron’s mood. He swallowed and waited for Ron to spear a sausage with his fork. "You got something to say to me, Ron? About yesterday’s game?"

Ron’s sausage paused halfway to his mouth and then slowly lowered back to his plate. "Yeah, actually, I do. We were counting on you, Harry. Our Chasers really cleaned Slytherin’s clock and all you had to do was keep Malfoy from catching the Snitch for a few more goals. But you let us all down — it’s sort of hard to just let that go, you know?"

A fresh wave of anger started to boil inside of Harry, but he forced it down with a determined swallow. "Ron.... No one regrets yesterday more than me. I certainly didn’t want Malfoy to catch the Snitch — you make it sound like I was just standing there with my hands in my pockets and let him have it! Do you know what really upsets me about your attitude? You of all people know exactly why I couldn’t fly yesterday, and you still can’t let it go. It’s a game. A bloody brilliant game, but at the end of the day, no one dies, alright?"

Ron and Harry stared at each other over their cooling breakfast as Hermione wrung her hands in worry. Ron narrowed his eyes and nodded. "Fair enough," he said with a smile. "I can live with that, mate. But we’ve got to do something to take Malfoy down a couple of pegs.  He’s become even more unbearable than ever."

Harry’s grin matched Ron’s and they both knew it was over. "Besides," Harry said as he, too, speared a sausage. "Ginny and I worked out the block that took my flying away — well, with the help of Hagrid’s little brother; I can fly just fine now."

Hermione started. "What? You got your memories back? How? When?"

Chewing on his sausage, Harry felt a warm sensation push on the edge of his consciousness. "Ginny’s up," he said conversationally. "I’ll let her tell you the story; I’ve got to finish that essay on Dittany for Herbology," he said, draining his pumpkin juice and pushing away from the table. "Hufflepuff’s Seeker won’t get the Snitch, Ron. I promise."

*

The next Tuesday, after classes, Harry and Ginny found themselves in the Defence classroom, fully engaged in dodging pillows sent wandlessly from their professor. The point of the exercise was for them to try to use their own wandless magic to banish the pillows back at McTierny, but more often than not, the pillows ended up hitting them in the head.

"Oof," said Harry as a silk, lace-edged one smacked him in the face. "Depulso!" he yelled at the pillow that was following it, his hand held out in its general direction — but the pillow continued in its arc, grazing Harry’s shoulder.

Ginny was having only slightly better success. "Depulso!" she yelled, and the pillow that was aiming for her head deflected upwards slightly and bounced off the wall behind her.

The dizziness that had completely overwhelmed them during their first lesson was no longer there, but a distinct buzzing noise in their minds told them that they were still building up a tolerance for wandless magic.

"Come on, now," their professor said. "It these were boulders, you’d be dead by now."

McTierny sat down in one of the vacant desks that lined the classroom walls and propped his feet on another. Then, with a mock yawn, flicked another set of pillows at the pair.

Harry growled and set his jaw, imagining the pillow in his mind flying right into McTierny’s face. A faint blue light infused his hand and in his head he said, "Depulso!" The pillow moved a fraction, but still hit Harry — this time in the chest. Looking down at it, Harry noticed a tabby cat was embroidered on the pillow’s face and had to do a double-take when he noticed the outline of a pair of tortoise-shell spectacles around its eyes.

After another hour of work, Ginny had made enough progress to stop the pillow in mid-air, but still wasn’t able to make it fly back towards their professor. Harry was making it change course, but momentum still carried the pillows in his general direction.

"Merlin, that’s hard," Harry said as he sat heavily on the floor, Ginny taking a similar position beside him. "I don’t think I’ve worked that hard at spellwork since the Triwizard Tournament."

Ginny ran the back of her hand across her sweaty brow and nodded. "Don’t even think about sneaking up to my dorm tonight, Harry. I’m knackered."

McTierny’s eyebrows rose above the dark frames of his glasses. Harry guffawed and poked her in the side, where he knew she was most ticklish.

"Ah!" Ginny squealed and rolled away from Harry. "I was only kidding, Harry."

"There’s truth in all kidding," McTierny said with a smirk as he sat down next to them on the floor and pulled out his wand from a concealed pocket in his robes. He then conjured three goblets and an empty pitcher, which promptly filled itself with ice-cold pumpkin juice. Filling each one from the pitcher, he said, "Have a drink and let’s review what we’ve learned tonight."

The pitcher re-filled itself and Harry reached out to take the nearest goblet, then offered it to Ginny. She took it with an acknowledging smile, her eyes twinkling and Harry took another for himself.

When they had all emptied at least one goblet-full, McTierny said, "So what was the hardest thing about tonight’s lesson?"

Harry thought for a moment, but Ginny beat him to the punch. "Focusing enough magic into the spell to do any good."

"Good, good. But why was it hard?"

Again, Harry furrowed his brow in thought and something popped into his head. "Because it takes too much concentration to tell your magic what to do."

"Take ten points, Mr. Potter." McTierny leaned back against the legs of a nearby desk and continued, "The most difficult part of wandless spellwork is being able to put enough magic into it. For each spell, there is a set amount of magic required to make it operable. Squibs have some magic in them, but not enough to do any of the spells we take for granted, like lighting a fire, or cleaning dishes. With wandless magic, you have to discipline your mind to control how the magic flows. Wands were invented to provide an artificial focus for people that couldn’t do it mentally — opening up magical potential to a great deal more wizards and witches."

McTierny paused and Harry noticed that Ginny had pulled her hair down and was in the middle of bunching it back together. He watched her for a second before turning to the professor.

"So the question is, how do we learn to focus our magic enough to perform the spells?" asked Harry.

"Have you heard of a little game called chess?"

*

For the next few days, Harry and Ginny would finish their homework and play each other at chess. Harry was quickly discovering that Ginny was every bit as good at the game as her brother, but that the special rules McTierny had them using for the game made the playing field almost level.

"Check," Ginny announced one evening. Ron and Hermione were off snogging under the pretence of Prefect duties, yet again, and had even asked Harry for use of his Invisibility Cloak — a service he was all too happy to oblige if he didn’t have to see their lips locked together.

Ginny’s rook was positioned along a line intersecting with Harry’s king. There were no pawns in this variety of Muggle chess (the magical pieces were confused by non-traditional setup) and Harry’s attack-centred strategy became advantageous. Ginny normally lured her opponents into a carefully disguised trap and, without the ability to sacrifice pawns, made it abnormally difficult to hold off a direct assault.

Following McTierny’s advice, Harry let his vision of the board slip and be replaced with a mental picture of it instead. One at a time, the pieces on the imaginary chess board moved in sequences as Harry played out various scenarios in his head. Once he got past the first few moves of each set, his grasp of possibilities started to lessen — but not before he discovered a defence.

Blinking his eyes open, he moved his remaining bishop down to the space in front of his king, blocking Ginny’s rook and threatening her own king. With one avenue protected, the king could only move from behind Ginny’s guarding knight and bishop to her left. In two moves, Harry would have his queen assaulting the white king directly.

"Your move, Gin," Harry said automatically, still pondering the board as she leaned forward.

Her foot found his under the table and he looked up. "You’ve improved quite a bit, you know? Even with this horrible arrangement," she said, pointing to the board.

Harry chuckled a little and ran his foot along the back of her leg, completely aware of the affect it was having on the redhead.

The portrait door opened and a familiar head appeared in the doorway. Remus Lupin.

"Remus!" Harry shouted and disengaged himself from the table and Ginny to greet him.

"How are you?" Remus asked as they embraced.

"Fine. What are you doing here?" Harry asked when they pulled apart. "I hope my letter wasn’t the reason, because...well, I just hope it wasn’t."

"No, Harry," Remus said with a nod as Ginny as she, too, hugged their former professor. "I’m actually here for something else and thought I would drop by to see you for a minute." He turned back to Ginny and said, "Do you mind if I borrow your gentleman friend for a while? I promise to return him in good condition later tonight."

Ginny smiled and gave Harry a peck on the cheek. "Sure thing, Remus. I would have just had to cream him at chess otherwise."

Harry let out a bark of laughter and gave Ginny a playful shove on the shoulder. "You wish, Weasley. I was just about to crush you."

Ginny shook her head and said, "That’s what you think. Have fun."

Following Remus out of Gryffindor Tower, Harry could tell that the older wizard did not want to talk about anything just yet, so they fell into a companionable silence.

When they arrived at an empty classroom, Remus let Harry walk in first. As Harry settled into a chair by the teacher’s desk, Remus flicked his wand at the door and it sealed with a squelch. Another flick of his wand and Harry’s ear’s popped — the silencing spell using a difference in air pressure to ensure sound would stay in the room.

"Is what you have to say that important?" Harry asked, suddenly serious. "I had hoped a little advice on girls wouldn’t require complete privacy."

Remus sat down in the chair at the teacher’s desk and Harry was reminded, yet again, that Remus had been a teacher — and a very good one at that. "Actually, I’ve come to get you caught up on where the Order is with Voldemort. Dumbledore made it clear that you were to be kept in the loop before he got himself knocked out by that ruddy spell. Then, if you’re still inclined, we can talk about you and Ginny."

Harry nodded. "You don’t approve of Dumbledore’s spell? It’s helped me loads as I haven’t had a power-hungry maniac rummaging around my head since."

Remus sighed. "I’m sorry, Harry. Things have been difficult for the Order since Dumbledore’s departure. And part of the reason I’m here is to tell you that the war isn’t going all that well because of it."

"Oh," Harry said contritely. "I hadn’t realised..."

"No," Remus interrupted. "I suppose you hadn’t." He didn’t say it with any trace of bitterness, but Harry couldn’t help but feel guilty for it.

"Voldemort has become much more aggressive since the Ministry acknowledged his re-emergence," Remus continued, gaining Harry’s full attention. "He’s made a few direct attacks, but seems to be concentrating on recruiting new Death Eaters. The Order has focused on deflecting those efforts with mixed success, and for now, it seems to be working."

"So," Harry said, his mind whirring, "have the Death Eaters in Azkaban been set loose? I assume the Dementors have already gone to his side."

Remus set his wand on the desk in front of him and propped his elbows on either side of the nicked and dented piece of wood. "No, Azkaban is still secure, but there’s no telling when Voldemort might break his followers out. The Dementors left Azkaban soon after the Ministry incident last June and are presumably working for Voldemort. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of them. I don’t want to think about the prospect of Voldemort’s closest followers on the loose again. But the Ministry claims they can’t spare more Aurors to guard prisoners when they have so many other things to worry about." Remus finished by pushing at a barely-noticeable moustache with his thumb and forefinger.

"So why doesn’t the Order do something then?" Harry asked pointedly. "It seems like now that Voldemort’s in the open, you should get more support from other wizards."

"It’s true that the Order is no longer as clandestine as it once was, but it is an unofficial organization, and as such, cannot take direct action with Ministry-controlled departments or institutions. You have to remember, Harry, that making the Order any more visible than it is, invites even more direct assault from Voldemort’s forces."

Grudgingly, Harry knew Remus had a point, but thought the whole idea of dividing the light side into ‘official’ and ‘unofficial’ camps wasn’t the best way to fight a war. "So what’s Voldemort’s new angle? Last year, he wanted to prophecy, the year before, to get a body. What’s he going after now?"

Remus looked at Harry for what seemed a long while, seeming to size Harry up, and then said, "We have no idea — and that’s what has us most concerned about Dumbledore’s state. We’ve never been certain what Voldemort has wanted to accomplish along the way to total domination of the Wizarding world, but we’ve at least had some hints. Now...there’s just no indication — none at all. I read history, Harry, Muggle and Magical — this is too much like the phoney war phase of the Muggle World War Two — we found out that everything we’d been watching was a feint, and by the time we caught on to what was really happening, we’d lost about two years of momentum. We can’t afford to get that far behind in this war. "

They sat together in silence as Harry tried to think of something to say. Voldemort was out there right now, moving towards some new evil and it chilled Harry to think that the Order of the Phoenix had no knowledge of how to counter him.

There is one thing — something that I remember from when Voldemort attacked me last — he said something about a path..." Harry paused, straining his mind back to the incident where he had almost been killed in his own mind.

"The Path of Light?" Remus asked.

"Yeah," Harry said and nodded in shock. "How did you know?"

"There are some in the Order who think it’s a wild goose chase, but Dumbledore mentioned that in the last official Order meeting he attended."

"Do you know what it is, exactly?" Harry asked. "Dumbledore gave Hermione a book, but he didn’t tell us much about it."

"Hmm," said Remus. "That is interesting, but I’m afraid the Order won’t be pursuing that particular option until Dumbledore is well. But promise me something, Harry?"

"Anything."

"If Hermione is able to translate that book, send for me immediately if Dumbledore still isn’t well."

Harry nodded. "Of course."

Remus leaned back into his chair and the twinkle returned to his eyes. "Unless you’ve got more questions about Voldemort, let’s talk about your girl problems, shall we?"

*

Ginny trudged down the dark stairs toward Potions, her backpack heavier than at any time she could remember. Along with her normal load of parchment, ink, quills, Potions kit, and Potions text, Ginny was also carrying three reference books from the library on the medicinal uses of common herbs.

Steph was ahead of her, talking with Colin Creevey, while Kate was chattering away with Luna Lovegood about their recent essay. From what Ginny could tell, however, it seemed like a one-sided conversation.

"I don’t know why Professor Snape has had this fixation with medicinal potions all of a sudden," Kate was saying. "I mean, it’s not like St. Mungo’s is going to run out."

Luna made a vague gesture with her hand and focused her bulging eyes on Kate. "What if they have?"

Kate stopped walking and both Ginny and Luna turned to look at her. "That’s just...silly," she said and continued on to their lesson.

Ginny could tell that Professor Snape was in a foul mood, but she didn’t know why. She would have thought that having Malfoy catch the Snitch would have cheered him up some.

"Turn in your books to page three hundred and ninety-four," Snape said as Ginny took her seat by Luna. "You will read this chapter for fifteen minutes and we will then proceed to make the potion outlined at the end. Any questions can be asked when you have finished reading the chapter."

The sounds of pages being rustled filled the classroom and Ginny watched as Snape sat behind his desk. When he caught her eye, she focused on her book and began reading.

Adamo Captum

Captive Love

This potion will force the drinker to divulge anything requested by the first person of the opposite sex he or she sees. It creates a strong feeling of romantic love, powerful enough to overcome the subject’s natural resistance to normal interrogation techniques. Application of this potion is protected by the International Treaty on Prisoner Treatment of 1465 and its administration is considered a war crime under this treaty.

Ginny continued to read, including the instructions on brewing the potion. It was remarkably simple, but she wondered why in the world Professor Snape was having them brew a love potion — regardless of the difficulty.

"Time’s up," Snape announced. "You should have read the entire chapter by now and have a firm grasp on what it takes to brew this potion. If there are no questions...."

But Kate’s hand was in the air before he could get past the second word of his last sentence.

"Miss McCloud," Snape said with a sneer. "What is it about this incredibly simple potion that you’re pea-like mind can’t grasp this time?"

"Well," she began sheepishly, "it’s not that I don’t understand how to brew it necessarily, it’s that I thought we couldn’t brew love potions in school."

Ginny found herself and many of the other students around her nodding, as Kate asked the very question on everyone’s mind.

Snape’s eyes narrowed and he swooped over to where Kate was sitting. "If I had wanted your opinion on the suitability of my lesson material, I would have had you filling out surveys." Snape reached out with his arms and grasped the edge of the desk as if it were keeping him from pouncing on her. "The Adamo Captum potion happens to employ several techniques that will be tested in your O.W.L. examination at the end of the year — unless you’d like to fail your exam?"

Kate swallowed loud enough for Ginny to hear and lowered her head. "N-No, Professor."

Snape whipped around and stalked to the front of the class. "You have one hour to complete the brewing of this potion. There will be no sharing cauldrons today." The class let out a collective moan that was much louder on the Slytherin side. "You will each demonstrate your abilities independently and I want the entire contents of each cauldron at the end of class. Consequently, you will have to leave your cauldrons with me until next class and will need to mark them with your names." He looked to the clock on the back of the class and said, "One hour."

As Ginny and Luna took out their cauldrons, they shared a glance and began to sort out their ingredients. "Don’t you think this is odd?" Ginny asked with a whisper.

The Ravenclaw shrugged her shoulders and began chopping dandelion roots, obviously unwilling to engage her in conversation now that they were tasked with brewing a potion.

*

Harry found himself whistling as he walked to breakfast. Ron and Hermione were in front of him, holding hands and smiling. There was Quidditch practice in the evening and Harry was more than excited to show the rest of the team that he was back in form. Ginny had an early class that morning, so she was supposed to join them for breakfast, and Harry had her Christmas present already wrapped and safely tucked into his trunk. Things could scarcely be better.

The morning post brought the Daily Prophet for Hermione a letter for Ron from his mum and a visit from Hedwig for Harry.

"Hello, girl," Harry said as she held out her leg for him to take his letter, apparently not content to drop it on his lap like a common school owl. "Bring me some good news?"

Once the letter was free, he tipped his goblet down for her to sip from and offered a bacon rind as payment for her services.

The letter was from Remus and was a short as it was welcomed.

Harry,

I’ll be at school for the next few days to take care of some personal business. Let’s meet and talk more about your ‘problem’.

Remus

Harry folded the parchment and slipped it into his pocket just as Ginny arrived and sat beside him. "Morning, luv," he said.

Ginny grumbled, but let him kiss her anyway. She seemed to brighten upon seeing Hedwig, however, and cheerfully gave her a scratch on her head. "Fancy meeting you here, pretty girl."

Harry caught Ron’s eye and they both shook their heads. "Mental," Ron mouthed.

"And I like it," Harry said out loud.

"What is it you like?" Ginny asked, as Hedwig took flight.

"You," Harry said and Ron made a retching sound.

Ginny kicked Ron under the table and everyone but Ron started laughing.

Movement at the Head Table caught Harry’s eye and he was pleased to see Remus taking a seat next to McGonagall. They spoke for a moment before a flash of fire appeared in front of the acting Headmistress and a letter fell on top of her plate.

Ginny’s hand found Harry’s back as she looked on with him.

McGonagall took the note and read it through once before she thrust it at Remus and stood. She nodded at Professors Flitwick, Snape, and Sprout before she walked swiftly out of the Great Hall. Remus glanced at Harry and then followed.

"What do you reckon?" Ron asked and Harry turned to see Hermione watching the scene with narrowed eyes.

"Something’s happened," Hermione said. "You’re scar hasn’t been hurting or anything, has it?" she asked.

Harry found his scar automatically, testing it with the tips of his fingers. "No, I haven’t felt anything since Dumbledore performed the spell."

"I suppose we’ll just have to get our news like the rest of the students, then," Hermione said, holding up her still unopened Daily Prophet.

*

They didn’t have to wait long. The morning’s classes were cancelled that day and it left the students to speculate to themselves. Every rumour was as unlikely as the next and Harry eventually tuned out what they had to say. The insistence of their professors that afternoon that nothing had happened only stoked the fires of conjecture and by the end of the day, the Minister was sacked, Hagrid was the new Headmaster, and Voldemort had been named captain of Puddlemere United.

All rumours were put to rest, however, when the post arrived the next morning. In large bold print on the front of the Daily Prophet were the words:

Azkaban Seized by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named

Death Eaters and other criminals join forces with the Dark Lord as terror sweeps country.

Hermione had read the entire paper through three times before Harry had a chance to see it himself. When he had finished with the lead story, he wished he hadn’t.

"Twenty Aurors killed," one third year said.

"They used over a hundred Dementors..." said another.

"And a Giant," remarked his friend.

With the commotion over the paper’s announcement, classes had been cancelled again and the students shunted off to their houses.

"Blimey," Ron said as the four of them took seats in one of the corners. "Nobody saw this one coming."

"You got that right," Harry said. "Not even the Order."

Hermione, Ron and Ginny all looked at Harry and he could read the questions on their faces as if they had been tattooed on there. "Remus told me they had no idea what Voldemort was up to. Not exactly."

"I guess having Dumbledore out for the count doesn’t help does it," remarked Ginny.

"No," Hermione added. "Neither does the fact that the Ministry is a complete disaster."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, my dad mentioned that since You-Know-Who’s been in the open, the Ministry has done worse than nothing — like they did last year. They’ve been cutting back the Auror budget, not letting them hire new recruits.... They even tried to sack Madame Bones when she protested to the Wizengamot."

"But with Dumbledore gone," Hermione continued, "there has been less motivation to move against Fudge and he’s taken the Ministry in a completely counterproductive direction."

Ginny was nonplussed, however. "Azkaban wasn’t secure anyway," she said. "Tom can have it for all I care. We just need to figure out a way to keep him there."

"But all those dead Aurors," Harry said as he pushed his hands into his hair. "They all died because of Fudge’s incompetence."

Ginny didn’t respond and Harry stood, pacing between the sofa and chairs where his friends sat. "Maybe Ginny’s right," he said at length. "Voldemort can keep Azkaban. I mean, how hard can it be to build another prison?"

"But Harry," Hermione said. "This is really significant. Voldemort’s never taken possession of anything before. It means he’s serious about taking over the Wizarding world this time." She looked around at Harry, Ginny, and Ron and said, "It means that he needs a place to gather his army — to get ready to attack the Ministry and the Order. One last push and no one will be able to stop him."

Harry looked at his friend and as he mulled over what she had said, something changed within him. Voldemort was serious about taking over the Wizarding world, so Harry had to be serious about stopping him.

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