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SIYE Time:10:36 on 29th March 2024
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Chance Encounter: The Beginning of Healing
By KEDme

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Category: Post-OotP
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Angst, Tragedy, General
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 30
Summary: A missing moment from OotP. After Harry has his "talk" with both Nearly Headless Nick and Luna, he skips the feast. Where did he go? Who did he see? Who do you think! Harry and Ginny come to an understanding. Complete one-shot ficlet!
Hitcount: Story Total: 5036







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Disclaimer:
The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

No profit is being made off this story. It is for entertainment purposes only.



Chance Encounter: The Beginning of Healing


Harry wandered aimlessly, ambling his way towards Hagid’s cabin situated on the edge of the forbidden forest. He knew that he was safe enough going this way, as Hagrid would surely be in the Great Hall at the end-of-term feast with the others. Much as he loved Hagrid, he didn’t feel like company tonight. Harry knew that he would be missed, but he could not bear to sit through another celebratory event when there clearly was nothing to celebrate. Instead, he felt the need to be alone with his thoughts and digest the epiphany of recent events.


Sirius was dead, and he was never going to come back. That much was certain. Nearly-Headless Nick had told him so just a few hours before, and Harry was inclined to believe it. He had been crazy to think, even for a split second, that Sirius would come back as a ghost. He couldn’t imagine Sirius as a ghost, even if on some level he had hoped…. But Nick had squashed that thought completely. According to Nick, only people who were afraid to die became ghosts, and Sirius was not afraid of anything. Even Voldemort….


‘Voldemort….’ the mere thought of the name sent fresh waves of depression searing down through Harry’s bones. All of this was because of Him. Harry had never felt hate like he felt toward Him. Voldemort was the root of Harry’s miserable ness, and for a fleeting moment his wished that He had killed him all those years ago, along with his parents. If Luna was right, then his parents were just behind that veil with Sirius, waiting for him…. He would see them again….


Just as quickly as that dark thought entered his mind, the images of Ron and Hermione pushed through like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. What would Hermione have to say if she could hear him? He could only imagine. Besides, he didn’t really wish himself ill, he reasoned. ‘I’m just tired,’ he thought dismissively. Harry sighed. ‘Tired of the burden that had just been increased tenfold since his talk with Dumbledore….’


Harry shuffled along the worn path, his head down, lost in thought, grateful for the darkness that covered the sky. He rather felt that it matched his mood, and it certainly made it difficult for others to find him until he was ready to be found….


If Harry had felt the weight of responsibility before, it was nothing compared to what he felt now. The echo of the prophesy never left his thoughts for very long. He could recall perfectly the sound of Professor Trelawney’s out-of-body voice as she made her prediction to Professor Dumbledore all those years ago. He had seen it in Dumbledore’s Penseive. “…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…”


Despite the warm summer air, Harry shivered. Try as he might, he could not wrap his mind around that one. Neither did he feel frightened, however. After all, that’s how it’s always been, he mused. The prophesy only confirmed what he already knew deep in his soul. He and Voldemort were connected, and his fate lay with the fate of the murderer who killed his parents. ‘And Sirius….’


Fresh thoughts of Sirius caused Harry to walk faster, past Hagrid’s cabin and closer to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Even though Bellatrix Lestrange had been responsible for sending Sirius through that veil, he knew who was really responsible….


Harry knew that he was nearing his boundaries, but he didn’t much care. Several yards from the edge of the forest he stopped and plopped himself down on the tall grass. Looking up into the vast night sky, his feelings of melancholy seemed to intensify.


Bitterness, anger, guilt, and grief washed through him, reverberating through his very skin and settling on his heart, like a heavy weight on his chest. He threw himself to the ground and lay sprawled, spread-eagled, gazing up into the night. He felt so small and powerless, so totally out of control, compared to the mind-boggling expanse of the heavens with their twinkling stars and bright planets.


‘I wonder if this is how Professor Lupin feels,’ Harry mused, noticing for the first time the bright full moon.


Once again, Harry’s mind was consumed by thoughts of Voldemort. Voldemort had actually entered his body and used him… controlled him. Harry closed his eyes to escape the pain of the memory but the images only became more vivid and real. He remembered begging Dumbledore to kill him… to kill us, he corrected himself. ‘Why did I say that?’ he wondered again for the thousandth time. ‘What made me think that?’


Deep down in a place he kept locked up tight, he knew. He knew the answer but was afraid to admit it. Voldemort had possessed him that night at the Ministry. Voldemort had entered Harry’s mind and used him. His eyes squeezed shut, tighter and tighter. He had to block out the memory of that night before it consumed him.


Taking a long slow breath, Harry settled himself and slowly opened his eyes, once again surveying the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the night sky above him. He would have to be getting back soon, before he was missed.


Just then, his attention was drawn to a moving figure coming towards him, emblazoned by the brightness of the full moon. Harry squinted, but the figure, half obscured by shadows, was not fully visible to him.


He or she was too far away to make out clearly in the darkness that had settled on the grounds with the passing of the moon behind the clouds. Whoever it was continued walking with a purpose, not wandering aimlessly as he had done moments earlier, and seemed to be completely unaware of an audience. The briefest of pauses by Hagrid’s cabin conveyed to Harry that the person might be seeking out the ground’s keeper, but that thought was put to rest when the figure turned and continued their steady progress towards the Forest.


The figure was slight, shorter than he, himself, and almost seemed to glide with purpose and a sort of grace. ‘Yes, gracefulness….’ Harry didn’t know what made him think those words, but that’s what it was.


Was it a student? Surely not! Students were not allowed in the Forbidden Forest–and that was certainly where this person was heading.


Harry had to laugh at himself. How many times had he, Ron, and Hermione been in there, out-of-bounds and uninvited? This last trip in with Umbridge and their meeting with the centaurs made the thrill of danger less appealing for him, thank you very much!


Moodily, he wondered if he ought to say something to the person. Propping himself up on his elbows, he realized that the person was almost within shouting distance now….


Perhaps if he just alerted the figure to his presence, he or she would turn around and go back to the safety of Hogwarts….


Maybe they don’t know what they about to do–how dangerous the forest could be….


Suddenly, and without warning, Hermione’s voice rudely interrupted his thoughts. “---don’t you think you’ve got a bit of a--- a--- saving-people-thing?” The blackness came rushing back at Harry like an unstoppable gale wind.


Hermione was right, as usual. He did have a bit of a “saving-people-thing” and it was going to stop right here, right now! No one else was going to die because of his interference, Harry resolved. If this person–whoever they were–wanted to take a stroll in the Forbidden Forest, then who was he to stop them?


Harry watched the figure draw closer in silence, his curiosity mounting despite his decision to stay out of it. Yes, he reasoned, it was definitely a student, judging from the dark robes and the shape of the shadowy form. Harry glanced quickly up at the full moon, half hidden in clouds, cursing at the darkness he had welcomed a short time before. What would a student be doing entering into the Forbidden Forest on the eve of their departure?


Malfoy’s name came to mind, but was easily dismissed. Malfoy hated the forest. Harry had reason to think that he was scared of it, judging from their encounter five years ago.


They had received detention and had been tasked to search the forest with Hagrid for a slain unicorn. Voldemort had been responsible for that death too, and Harry had come face to face with the Dark Lord for the first time since…. ‘Since I was a baby.’


No, whoever it was, it wasn’t Malfoy. The figure was smaller than Malfoy. ‘And,’ Harry squinted harder… ‘has long hair.’ It must be a girl.


This realization caused him a moment of alarm and shook his resolve to stay out of it. Thoughts of Aragog, giant spiders, mad centaurs, Grawp, and other nameless horrors caused him to sit bolt upright. His voice was on the tip of his tongue when, without warning, the cloud covering dispersed and a beam of moonlight shot down, illuminating the stranger in a ray of celestial light just as the figure stepped from the safety of the path into the black hole of the forest.


Harry’s stomach dropped to the floor. Could he have seen right? Might he have made a mistake? White hot anger pierced his eyes, knitting his eyebrows together in a stiff line.


‘What is she doing going into a place like that at night?’ Harry thought angrily.


His resolve to stay out of it forgotten, he quickly picked himself up off the ground, brushed off the dirt hastily, and hurried after her.


So what if he did have a “saving-people-thing?” he reasoned. He couldn’t exactly let Ron’s sister go wandering alone in the Forbidden Forest at night, now could he?

***


Ginny Weasley had suffered through her dinner with mild disinterest. Harry’s absence at the end-of-term feast was blaring, exasperated by the curious whispers of students all around her. Ron and Hermione alone were predictably silent about their friend. Inquiries as to his location resulted in a tight lipped shrug and a confused shake of the shoulder from the pair. Ginny noticed them put their heads together and converse animatedly with one another, but she was sure that they were just as in-the-dark as the rest of the school.


Only the regal figure of Albus Dumbledore sitting high up in the middle of the teacher’s table seemed serene and calm… quite unaffected by the mysterious absence of the notorious student. Ginny glanced up at the headmaster and briefly caught his eye. In that briefest of moments, she was sure that an unspoken connection of understanding passed between them. A second later it was gone, broken by an interruption from Professor Snape, the hook-nosed potions professor sitting on Dumbledore’s right side.


Ginny sighed. She could not bear to stay another second longer. Excusing herself to her dorm mates and fellow Gryffindor’s, she explained to anyone within earshot that she had just remembered something that she had to do. Sliding out of the table, she gracefully negotiated her way out of the Great Hall, careful to avoid the pointed gaze of the headmaster.


All she knew was that she needed air. She needed to breathe and rejuvenate herself before the long summer that was surely to come. Heading out of the castle and down the stone steps, she slowed down a bit to catch her breath and think.


Whether they would return to Number 12 Grimmuald Place this summer was doubtful. After all, the house had belonged to Sirius and he was….. Ginny could not bear to finish her thought. Images of Sirius, dark and brooding were replaced by images filled with mirth and humor. Christmas…. He had been so happy to have them all there to share the holidays. Especially Harry…. ‘Harry.’


The name alone inspired a mixture of emotions in Ginny. Without thinking she turned towards Hagrid’s cabin and walked in silence, drinking in the fresh night air.


‘Harry….’ Gone was her silly childhood crush. At least she could finally be herself around him.


Michael Corner had been a pleasant distraction, she mused. After the fiasco of the Yule Ball last year, it had been nice to have someone pay attention to her like that.


‘Yes,’ she thought, smiling inwardly, ‘I definitely needed that.’


Her first year at Hogwarts had been difficult, to say the least. Tom Riddle, that blasted diary, and memories of the Chamber of Secrets flitted though her brain. It had been a tough year, culminating in her rescue from the Chamber by the very person who had started it all… ‘Harry Potter.’


It seemed silly to her now how obsessed she had been by the dark-haired young man. That obsession, along with the pangs of growing up, had caused her to write in the diary in the first place. Yet, at the same time she could hardly blame anyone but herself for what had happened. After all, she had known better than to trust her deepest and darkest secrets to a talking book. For three years since she had suffered the embarrassment of her mistake. Every time Harry looked at her, she knew what he must be thinking.


“Stupid little girl!” she hissed under her breath, trying to block out the memories and emotions from that time.


She had been telling the truth earlier in the year when Harry had “forgotten” about her possession. It had been around Christmastime, after their visit to see Dad in St. Mungo’s. Harry had thought for a time that Voldemort was possessing him, and Ginny had helped him to put his experience in perspective.


She wished she could forget what Tom Riddle (al la Lord Voldemort) had done to her... even for a moment. But it was always with her. She carried it around like a dim torch, mostly unnoticed except in times of solitude and pitch blackness. ‘Like tonight….’


Catching sight of Hagrid’s cabin she paused, looking at the paddock next to the tiny hut where Professor Grubbly-Plank had first shown them the unicorns. Ginny willed herself back to that experience, wishing with all her might that she could recapture the experience.


‘That was the beginning of healing,’ she thought.


Making up her mind, she turned and continued up the path towards the forest. Walking steadily, she felt in her pocket.


Was it there? Yes, she felt it….


Ever since Dad had given it to her that summer after the Chamber, she carried it with her everywhere. Even though she only used it when she was alone, it still made her feel stronger to know it was there. The flute had been a source of healing for her soul, better than any salve. It had given her something to focus on in the long, lonely summer that preceded her return to Hogwarts the following year after….


‘Now where did Professor Grubbly-Plank take them that time?’ Yes… now she remembered….


The moon broke through the clouds just as Ginny reached the edge of the forest but she did not notice as she slipped quietly into the blackness and stillness of the curtain of trees.

***



Stepping into the forest, Harry looked around. “Lumos!” he whispered an instant after pulling out his wand.


He saw a faint light up ahead to the left, rounding the bend in the trail.


“At least she has enough sense to stick to the path,” he muttered to himself.


‘What was she doing?’ he asked himself again. ‘What the devil possessed her...?’


The thought strayed off in a sudden horrifying notion. What if she was being possessed? After all, it had happened before….


That could be the only explanation for this horrible lapse of judgment on her part. Didn’t she know what lurked in this forest? Hadn’t Ron told her about the spiders, Aragog, and the other countless things that lay in wait here?


A howl in the distance reminded Harry that tonight was a full moon. He swore to himself. “Werewolves….”


That thought alone drove him faster and deeper into the forest, hot on the trail of one very reckless red-head.


A fork in the path made him stop short. ‘Right or left? Which way had she gone?’


Peering into the darkness, Harry searched for a light, the illumination of a wand, through the haze of the blackness surrounding him. ‘Nothing….’


Not sure how to continue, Harry looked around frantically until something caught his attention. ‘Was that… music? Here?’


Listening hard, he closed his eyes and tried to pinpoint the direction it was coming from.


‘There!’ he thought. ‘It’s coming from over there, just ahead on the left!’


Opening his eyes, he flew down the path to the left and found himself climbing steadily uphill. Up ahead, he could make out the bright illumination of the moon bathing the trees in soft golden and silver combinations.


‘There must be a clearing up ahead,’ he thought warily to himself. ‘Better be careful…’


His wand tip extinguished with the proper command, leaving him in semi-darkness.

Harry crept slowly, carefully, barely able to allow himself to breathe the last several feet to the crest of the trees and the clearing beyond. He half expected to see Ginny clutched in the grasp of a tall figure with snake-like red eyes.


The music drifted steadily up and out from the clearing, both beautiful and sad. Haunting…


Reaching the edge of the clearing Harry sucked in his breath hard. Peering around a nearby tree, half hidden in shadows and obscured from view by the covering of the underbrush he stood stock still and watched, neither moving nor daring to move a muscle.


No other person, save the red-headed girl he had followed, appeared in his field of vision. Instead, nestled in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by wildflowers and pale moonlight, sat Ginny Weasley, cross-legged, alone and serene, playing the haunting melody on her small silver flute.


Harry was struck by the shear awkwardness of the situation. Ginny, her eyes closed, was completely unaware that she had an audience and played with a soulfulness of a person twice her age. The look on her face spoke volumes.


Harry remembered the pained expression several months before and the off-hand comment regarding her past. He had told her he forgot what Voldemort had done to her.


“Lucky you,” the accusing memory of her voice rang in his ears, shattering the stillness around him.


Shaking himself out of the trance, Harry looked around. ‘No matter how beautiful and peaceful this place seems,’ he reminded himself sharply, ‘this is still the Forbidden Forest.’


Should he disturb her tranquility and demand that she return with him–risking the Weasley Wrath that Ron so often spoke of–or slip off quietly?


The distant howl of one of the forest’s tenants decided it for him. With a start, Ginny opened her eyes, turned around slightly and caught sight of him, surprise registering on every inch of her drained and pale face.


“Harry,” she said weakly. “What are you doing here?”


Anger quickly shot up again from the pit of his stomach. “I should be asking you that,” he said more coldly than he intended.


Harry was not surprised to see a flash of temper as she retorted, “Didn’t know I had to check in with you… Like you care what I do,” she finished darkly, almost to herself.


She hadn’t meant to say that last bit out loud, and the moment it left her lips she regretted saying it. It sounded silly and childish, even to her ears, and made her feel that she had said too much… let too much out.


“Did Ron send you?” she asked airily, trying to draw attention away from that last blunder. She would not allow Harry Potter to reduce her to that embarrassed, unhappy girl she had been in years past. She was utterly and completely over him. So what if she suddenly found herself shaky and out of breath when he entered the room unexpectedly, as if a thousand butterflies were vying to escape from the pit of her belly?


He did have a rather daunting presence about him, after all, she mused… a sense of strength and maturity born from a lifetime of struggles and suffering. Most people startled when they realized who he was–why should she be any different?


A small voice in the back of her head replied, ‘Because he’s just Harry… You’ve known him for years. He’s your brother’s best friend after all….’


Looking at him out of the corner of her eye, she watched his face soften slightly.


“No, Ron didn’t send me,” he sighed. “I was out for a walk and saw you come in here.” Silence followed this last statement. Harry regarded her with a watchful expression, part annoyance and part bemusement. Of course he cared what happened to her. She was Ron’s sister, after all!


“I–I suppose you want to know what I’m doing here…” she stuttered lamely.


“The thought did cross my mind,” he said evenly, his gaze never leaving her.


A pregnant silence filled the still night air around the two teenagers. Each regarded the other warily. Ginny, afraid to continue but seeing no way out, remained silent and contemplated her next words. Before she could think of something to say to explain her reasoning for needing to be here in the Forest, Harry was speaking again.


“What is this place?” he asked slowly, walking toward her, idly trailing his hand over the waist high weeds and flowers scattered throughout the clearing. He looked up at the full moon in the night sky and around at the silver-reflected pool a few feet away from them in the clearing.


“This is where the unicorns come to drink and bathe and soak in the moonlight. The pool is one of the purest in Europe…” Ginny’s voice trailed off again. Smiling inwardly, she realized that she sounded an awfully lot like Professor Grubbly-Plank.


“Why were you playing that flute?” he asked absently, gesturing at the delicate silver instrument that she still grasped in her hand.


“Oh…. Sorry….,” she apologized, without really knowing why. “No one usually hears me play. I was trying to call the unicorns. Professor Grubbly-Plank says that the unicorns are drawn to music. It’s in their nature…”


“Of course, mine probably scared them off…” she said, half-embarrassed, not daring to meet his eye. She chose to stare out at the water.


“I wouldn’t know why. I thought it was beautiful.” Harry found that he couldn’t look at her when he said this so he looked down at his shoes.


Another pregnant pause hung in the air like a dense fog.


This time it was Ginny who broke the silence. “Everyone wondered where you were tonight,” she said quietly, looking up at him through upturned eyelashes.


Harry was aware for the first time how deep her eyes were, the silver moon reflecting off the chocolate brown, permeated with flecks of amber and green. For a split second he wanted to hold her gaze but didn’t know why. Somewhere he remembered hearing that the eyes were the mirror to the soul. He never quite understood that until this very minute.


He shrugged. “Not much in the mood for a party, “he answered, not breaking eye contact. She held his gaze, her eyes narrowing slightly in compassion.


“No, I don’t suppose you are…”


Harry swallowed hard and turned away, taking a few steps towards the water’s edge. “It’s beautiful here,” he said. “Peaceful… Not what one expects in the middle of such an ugly place.”


For a minute Ginny continued to stare at him. Then, rousing herself, she replied, “The world is full of beautiful places, Harry. Look at Hogwarts.”


“Sometimes it feels as if the world will never be beautiful again…” he whispered, darkly. Ginny noticed the flicker of pain in his emerald green eyes.


“I used to feel that way, a few years ago,” she attempted, hesitantly.


“Yeah?” His voice suddenly seemed deep and husky, like he was holding back a flood of emotions aching to be released. He cleared his throat noisily. “What changed, then?”


Did he really want to know? Could she really tell him?


Screwing up her courage, she walked up to stand beside him, staring off in the same direction that held his attention so raptly. “Me,” she said simply.


“Rather, my outlook on life changed. I used to blame myself for what happened, you know… in my first year,” she said.


Harry looked like he was going to argue with her, but she silenced him with her hand. “I know deep down whose fault it really was,” she said dismissively. “But I still felt–feel--- responsible. I am responsible.”


Again Harry looked to argue with her. “But–,” he began.


“You can’t argue with me Harry. I know the truth. I knew better than to trust that diary, yet I still did. Tom was very convincing, but a small part of me knew better than to trust him.” She sighed. “Back then, I just didn’t care. I was so mixed up and miserable that I think I needed to hear those things that he kept saying. It’s not an excuse, but being the youngest of seven and the only girl is no picnic. You see how Mum treats me!”


She paused and took a very Mrs. Weasley stance, imitating her mother’s voice. “Off to bed, Ginny! Don’t listen to big bad Sirius, Ginny! Whatever possessed you to go to the Department of Mysteries, anyway, Ginny! What good did you think you could do? You could have died! ”


Ginny looked apologetically at Harry for going off like that and for mentioning Sirius, but Harry had to smile. She did a really good impression of her mother.


“I wanted to trust Tom. I wanted a friend to spill my guts to and pump me up. I was so tired of being lonely and having no one to talk to. I refused to see the danger until it was too late.”


Much as he hated to admit it, Harry could relate to what she was saying. “So what changed?” he asked again.


“One day I just couldn’t live with the guilt anymore.” She looked around at the clearing, not wanting to look at him lest she lose her courage. “I remember where I was. Professor Grubbly-Plank was substituting for Hagrid and she had a whole lesson about the unicorns. Do you remember?”


Harry shook his head yes, affirming that he did indeed remember.


“All the girls clustered around the unicorn, patting and stroking, oohing and aahhing and somehow I ended up right in front. I reached up to nuzzle her and, I swear Harry! You may think I’m crazy, but she looked me straight in the eyes and I could see… everything. My past, present, and future all in one glance,” she finished lamely.


“What do you mean?” he asked.


For a minute she thought he was making fun of her. Then she noticed his thoughtful expression and she knew that he was really listening to her.


“Go on,” he pressed her, “what do you mean by past, present, and future all in one glance?” She could tell that she had his attention and that he did not think she was crazy.


“I saw…. Me.” She knit her eyebrows together and frowned.


She continued, talking almost in a whisper. “Not the ‘me’ that I show on the outside, the true me… And, Harry–I realized something for the first time–I like who I am, flaws and all. I am a good person who sometimes makes mistakes, but that’s alright as long as I try my hardest not to repeat them–as long as I learn from my mistakes.


“I saw my future, too…” Here she faltered. She wouldn’t tell him everything. Not yet, but maybe… someday. ‘Maybe, someday….’


Her voice became stronger as she continued. “Tom Riddle tried to take that away, but I suddenly realized that if I let him, then he won. And I won’t let him win…” She said this last bit with more passion and venom then he had ever heard her utter before. “Not ever!”


Suddenly, as if on cue, a soft cracking noise of a twig made them both startle. Looking around, Harry saw her. Glowing white, beautiful and majestic, she slowly made her way to the other side of the water, drinking in the pureness of the cool crisp pool. Regally she raised her head and regarded them, neither afraid nor unafraid–just knowingly.


Even from this distance, Harry locked eyes and for a split second he knew what Ginny had been telling him. Past, present, and future blended together and he saw…himself. The great animal blinked and the vision along with the unicorn was gone, cantering back into the depth of the forest, just as quickly as it had come.


He blinked too. What had he seen? It was like trying to recapture a dream moments after awakening. Harry wondered fleetingly if he had been dreaming, caught up in Ginny’s memory.


Turning, he looked at the girl by his side. Ron’s sister. Ginny. Her lips curved in a dreamy smile, her eyes shining… and he knew it had not been a dream. She had seen it too.


“That’s why I had to come,” she whispered. “I needed to remember, before I forgot.”


With every fiber of his being, Harry at last understood and he didn’t blame her one bit for taking the risk.


For the third time that night a distant howl reached his ears from the shadow of the Forbidden Forest. It was time to go. Tomorrow they would board the train and leave Hogwarts. He wasn’t any happier about it, but for the first time in a week he felt… hopeful about the future. Maybe he did have a future, apart from Voldemort and that damn prophesy. Maybe he could survive. Maybe one day he could… simply live.


“Come on,” he said gently, tugging at her hand that he had unexpectedly found enclosed in his. “We’d better get back before Ron and Hermione send out the search party.”


With one last look of mutual understanding they locked eyes, then slowly turned together, making their way back through the dark forest to the castle, Gryffindor Tower, and the future… whatever that may hold.


[A/N This ficlet was originally written for the Sugar Quill's Forbidden Forest challenge but it was way too long, so I didn't submit it. I hope you like it! Please review! I value your opinions.]
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