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SIYE Time:5:22 on 29th March 2024
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Hunters and Prey
By Northumbrian

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Category: Post-Hogwarts, Post-DH/AB
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Romance
Warnings: Mild Language, Sexual Situations, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 295
Summary: February 2000 Newly Qualified (in record time) Auror Harry Potter remains obsessed with “The List.” The ten people still wanted for their part in the Battle of Hogwarts. Their capture is essential. It will bring closure to the events of the past few years. Harry has set himself a target. He wants to see “The Last Death Eater” and the other nine captured before the second Anniversary of the battle. His attempts to meet his target will bring heartbreak, danger, and pain.
Hitcount: Story Total: 111933; Chapter Total: 4488
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Amelie beta read this, and then I changed it, so any errors are likely mine, not hers. This was supposed to be the final chapter, but there were a lot of loose ends to wrap up. The next chapter will definitely be the last.




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Aftermath: Truths and Consequences

‘You left your post to visit your girlfriend, and you left an untrained civilian–a newly created werewolf–in charge of a top secret Auror mission,’ Robards bellowed. ‘And what happened? The girl is in St Mungo’s, badly injured, and so is a young boy.’

‘Before I went on this mission we agreed a one minute response time on the Portkey cards, Sir,’ Harry responded hotly. ‘Thirty seconds warning, and thirty seconds countdown. Yet it took almost five minutes from Lavender’s call to the cards being activated and the countdown starting. I checked with the Portkey Office to find out why there was a delay. You were so concerned about mission security that you didn’t give the Portkey Office any advance warning. They were surprised when Philippa asked for immediate activation. The Portkey Office did a brilliant job in the circumstances, but the delay could have cost Lavender and Ross their lives. If Susan hadn’t accidentally brought that Bailiff with her, and if there hadn’t been a competent Healer in the village, both Lavender and Ross might be dead! And if Lavender hadn’t persuaded the other residents to leave the village, there would probably have been a lot more casualties. We need a Healer on standby for large missions, and we need to coordinate with the Portkey Office.’

‘We need…’ snapped Robards sarcastically. ‘You said we needed a photographer, too, Potter! I told you at the time: never trust a Gray! And I was right. Where is she? Vanished! Disappeared with that Aunt of hers; hasn’t she? An Auror should be able to live by his wits, an Auror should be able to stand on his own two feet. When I was a young man…’

‘When you were a young man, sir, Aurors died! Why can’t we work in pairs, in teams?’ Harry asked. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. ‘I spent more than four weeks alone in a tent, searching, watching and waiting.’

Robards turned to face the only other person in his office. ‘You see what I have to put up with, Kingsley. Constant insubordination! Failure to follow orders!’ He turned to Harry. ‘You’re suspended, Potter. Without pay!’

‘Fine,’ said Harry, suddenly calm. ‘I’d like some time off. I want to spend some time with Ginny. We’ve got a lot to talk about. Like the fact that she was being fed a mind-control potion by the four remaining people on our wanted list.’

‘Gawain, Harry, let’s just take a moment and look at what you two have achieved, shall we?’ said Kingsley Shacklebolt. His deep voice, and slow and thoughtful delivery, was the water required to dampen the flames of a fiery conversation which was moving rapidly towards a conflagration. ‘Lestrange is dead, and that’s what’s annoying you, isn’t it? It’s not Harry; it’s the fact that you wanted Lestrange alive so he could answer your questions.’

‘I’m certain he knew what happened to a lot of people who simply vanished during Voldemort’s first rise,’ said Robards gruffly. There was a weary sadness in his eyes.

‘People like your brother’s wife,’ said Kingsley.

Robards nodded gloomily. Kingsley’s comment illuminated the dark shadows of a time before Harry had been born, and his opinion of his boss shifted.

‘I didn’t want him dead either, sir,’ said Harry quietly. ‘That’s why I disarmed him.’

‘So, Lestrange’s death is the only way in which this mission “failed”, and you both agree,’ Kingsley told them. ‘What’s done is done, Gawain. The Wizarding public won’t be shedding any tears for him. The public already regard the mission as a success. From my perspective his death, and everything else that happened at Shivering Stone, was the result of procedures which we must reassess.’

True,’ said Robards.

‘Yes,’ Harry agreed.

‘You know, you two have more in common than you think you do,’ the Minister said quietly. ‘Harry, you deserve some time off. However, I’d suggest that you take a week or two in lieu, not a month’s suspension.’ He turned to Robards. ‘Harry needs a rest, Gawain. And you know you can’t suspend him. He doesn’t deserve it. To be honest, even if he did, I wouldn’t allow it. Remember what our old friend Rufus Scrimgeour used to say at times like these.’

‘Public perception is all important,’ Robards grumbled.

‘Exactly,’ said Kingsley. ‘Harry tracked and trapped Lestrange, and the Aurors cornered him. The “Last Death Eater” is gone, and the press already know it. I know that it’s getting late, but, can we discuss the procedures and operational issues this mission has raised?’




It was a little after midnight when Harry finally left Robards’ office. As he said a polite goodnight to the Head Auror, and the Minister, Harry’s thoughts finally returned to Ginny. There had been so much to do after Lestrange’s death. A little over twenty-four hours earlier, he’d fought with her, and arrested her. It all seemed such a long time ago. It had been after dusk when he’d finally returned to the Auror Office. He had first escorted Ross to St Mungo’s and then, while he’d at the hospital, he’d checked up on Lavender. Once he’d got back, while supposedly writing his mission report, he’d read the Sheriff’s report from Wales.

Ginny’s flat had been burgled, it wasn’t secure. Where would she be? Perhaps, he thought hopefully, she’d be at Grimmauld Place. As he strode out of the office to find out, he wondered how Ginny’s press conference had gone. Not according to the Harpies plan, he was certain of that.

‘Harry,’ Neville shouted after him.

‘Hello, Neville, I’m surprised to see you still here,’ Harry said. He slowed, but didn’t stop.

‘I’m just leaving, too,’ Neville told him. He trotted across the office, caught up with Harry, and followed him into the corridor. ‘I promised Ron and Hermione that I’d wait for you, and give you a message. I didn’t expect you’d be here this late.’

‘Ron and Hermione?’ Harry asked.

‘Yes. Hermione was waiting for Ron when we finally got back here from Shivering Stone. Fenella and her Aunt have vanished. Robards left Williamson in charge of the search, and he’s furious, Williamson wants us back there tomorrow to conduct another search. Terry and Susan have been sent back there. Williamson has ordered them to stay in your tent overnight and resume the search tomorrow.’

‘Fenella will turn up, I’m sure,’ said Harry. ‘It’s not like her to do something like this.

‘She broke into the Ministry, remember?’ Neville said.

‘True,’ Harry admitted. ‘But she had a good reason. I’m sure she’s got a reason this time, too.’

‘How sure?’ Neville asked.

‘Luna likes her, mate,’ said Harry. ‘Luna told me I could trust Fenella, and Ginny agreed.’

Neville smiled, ‘Fair enough. Luna is usually right about this stuff, isn’t she? So is Ginny.’

‘So, what’s happening with Ron and Hermione?’ Harry asked.

Neville smiled ruefully. ‘Hermione had heard about Lestrange, and about Lavender. She wanted to know exactly what happened. Ron and I had to write our reports; he told her that he was starving, and if she waited, he would take her out for a meal and tell her. Hermione said she’d go back to her flat and make them both beef stifado.’

‘So, Ron won’t be coming home tonight,’ said Harry.

‘That’s what he told me. How did you know?’ Neville asked.

‘Long story involving a holiday in Greece,’ said Harry. ‘Do you know where Ginny is?’

‘The Harpies booked Livvy, Linny and Ginny into a hotel, until the lock on their flat was fixed,’ Neville told him. ‘But Ginny didn’t go. Hermione said that Mr and Mrs Weasley were waiting outside when everyone left the press conference. Apparently Mrs Weasley told the Harpies press officer, and Gwenog Jones, and that solicitor bloke, exactly what she thought about them. When she’d finished, she told them that Ginny was going home to The Burrow. They didn’t argue, and neither did Ginny.’

Harry chuckled. Neville, however, wasn’t smiling and it struck Harry that his friend had been looking tired and downcast since his return from Shivering Stone.

‘Thanks, Neville,’ said Harry, pushing the button for the lift. ‘What about you? Are you okay? It’s been a rough day, hasn’t it?’

‘I think I killed Lestrange,’ said Neville quietly as they stepped into the lift.

‘You weren’t the only one to hit him with a Stunning spell,’ Harry told his friend.

‘Yeah, but when Lestrange made that crack about my parents, I was really angry. I put everything I had into that spell, and I hit him square in the chest.’

‘So did Al Webb, and Polly Protheroe, for the same reason. I expect a lot of other Aurors did, too,’ Harry reassured his friend. ‘Lestrange was hit by about twenty stunners, Neville. We can’t do that to someone and expect them to survive. Do you remember our fifth year? McGonagall took four stunning spells to the chest and was hospitalised. Madam Pomfrey told me that it was a miracle she wasn’t killed.’ He looked into Neville’s face, and realised that his friend was still worried. ‘Do you want to talk about it? We could go for a drink.’

‘The pubs will be shut, Harry. It’s long past closing time,’ said Neville. ‘Hannah would let us in, and give us a drink. Hannah would…’ A gleam came to his eye. ‘If it’s okay with you, Harry, I’ll just go and talk to her.’ Neville brightened up at the thought.

‘Okay,’ said Harry, suddenly feeling lonely. He left the Ministry, Apparated to his front door, and entered number twelve Grimmauld Place for the first time in what seemed to be an eternity.

Kreacher appeared instantly, looked up at Harry and demanded, ‘When did Master last eat?’

Harry thought carefully, ‘I had fish and chips at about this time last night,’ he said.

Kreacher shook his head and began muttering under his breath. ‘Of all the Masters, this one is most foolish. Doesn’t look after himself. Doesn’t sleep.’ He looked up and, acting as though Harry hadn’t been privy to his comments, said, ‘Master’s bed is ready. Kreacher will make supper; then Master must rest.’

‘Bed,’ said Harry. A thought struck him. ‘Ginny is at The Burrow, Kreacher. Do you know if she’s still awake?’

Kreacher’s bat-like ears twitched. ‘The Mistress is asleep. She has been given a Sleeping Draught by the Molly.’

‘Oh, well,’ said Harry, sighing. ‘I’ll see her tomorrow.’

‘Kreacher will prepare supper, and bring it up to Master’s room,’ the house elf said. He vanished.

Harry climbed up to his bedroom and found clean sheets and freshly laundered pyjamas waiting for him. He had just washed and changed into his night clothes when Kreacher arrived carrying a tray.

‘Cheese on toast?’ Harry asked.

‘Welsh rarebit,’ said Kreacher, sounding offended. ‘Good food for a tired and hungry master.’




Theodore Nott sat in his solar. His back was to the window, and he was reading the Daily Prophet.

It was the day after the events in the werewolf village of Shivering Stone, and the front page headline read: Last Death Eater Dies Resisting Arrest. They were the only words on the front page. Beneath them was a photograph of a snarling Rabastan, it was the photograph which the Aurors had used in their wanted posters. Theodore had already finished the article and was thoughtfully reading an article about a missing werewolf named Doxine Gray, who had somehow evaded capture, when the door to the solar opened. His fiance walked in, she was still wearing her rather revealing nightdress.

‘Theo, darling,’ Pansy began.

‘No,’ said Theodore firmly. ‘Whatever you’re about to ask me, the answer is no!’

‘But…’

‘Pansy,’ he explained patiently. ‘You only ever start a conversation “Theo, darling,” when you want me to do something you know I’ll object to, something you know I will say no to. Let’s not waste any time in pointless discussion. I have no doubt that this has something to do with the letter you have just received from your friend Daphne.’ Theodore watched carefully, and his fiance’s expression confirmed his guess.

‘How…’

‘I am a Nott, and this is Pennerley Hall, I know everything which happens within these walls,’ he told her. ‘Don’t ever forget that.’

‘But, Theo…’

‘Only yesterday, we had a visit from the Auror Office, Pansy. I do not want another one.’

‘They weren’t real Aurors,’ said Pansy dismissively. ‘It was only…’

‘Susan Bones and Terry Boot were members of Dumbledore’s Army, they will be fully qualified Aurors in months. Both are committed to Potter’s cause and their Auror examination results are, if anything, marginally better than those of Weasley and Longbottom. And,’ he continued before she could comment, ‘despite what you believe, neither Weasley nor Longbottom are complete dunderheads. All four have daily contact with Potter. I wondered if Boot would discover the truth when I allowed him to see the ledger. He did, very quickly. Boot is clever and Bones is tenacious. It’s a formidable combination.’

‘B-b-b-boot…’ Pansy began scornfully.

‘Merlin, Pansy, have you learned nothing?’ said Theodore angrily. ‘Surely you didn’t believe Malfoy when he told us that Potter and his friends were all useless? You can’t still believe Malfoy’s nonsense? At school I was never certain whether Draco was underestimating the abilities of his “enemies” or overestimating his own. Thanks to you, I’m now certain it was both. It’s no wonder Draco made such a mess of things.’

Pansy stared at him in disbelief; both her mouth and her nightdress were gaping, the latter distracted his attention from the former.

‘Think about it,’ he told her. ‘In all those years, how many times did Malfoy come off best? Potter didn’t win through by blind luck. He certainly didn’t beat the Dark Lord by blind luck. He prepared and researched.’

Theodore assessed her carefully. She was still wondering whether she’d be able to change his mind. He watched her mouth close and her lower lip tremble. Surely she wouldn’t try tears? She looked into his face and, to his surprise, she read his expression and changed her mind.

‘I do so like it when you’re masterful,’ she told him, fluttering her eyelashes.

‘Good,’ he told her resolutely. ‘If that’s the case, you can prove it. Sit down, shut up, and listen.’

She instantly complied with his wishes. He was pleased to see that she was beginning to learn. She was cunning, and had social skills and connections which would be useful to him; if he could only rid her of her penchant for petty vindictiveness. Pansy pulled up a chair and sat opposite him she leaned forwards, presenting an image of respectful eyes, revealing cleavage, and rapt attention. Pleased by her compliance, he smiled.

‘I did not object to Daphne meeting that half-blood lover of hers in the tenement. A wanted fugitive was using one of our properties, but that could be dismissed as mere happenstance. However…’ he paused to let his words sink in, and realised that he was staring at the rise and fall of her bosom, not her face. He had been unable to read her expression.

‘I allowed the fugitives to rent the property in Awls End through Daphne, too,’ he reminded her, raising his head and concentrating on her expression. ‘But remember what I told you at the time? A second one of our properties linked to one of the same fugitives was a risk, but it could merely be coincidence. However, that is enough. There will not be a third occasion, Pansy’ he said firmly. ‘Currently, we can claim innocence. Daphne was your friend and we didn’t look as closely as we should have at what she was doing. But Potter and his friends aren’t stupid.’ He paused, raised his hand, and counted on his fingers. ‘Once, happenstance, twice, coincidence but, if it happens a third time, they will regard it as enemy action. I will not become Potter’s enemy. There is no profit in it.’

Pansy nodded in contrite understanding, then leaned further forwards and gave him a look of rapt admiration.

‘I’m sorry, my dear, but Daphne and her friends are on their own. I will not shelter them again. I’d advise you to sever all ties with them, too. If the Daily Prophet is correct, and the rumours I hear about Gregory Goyle are true, then…’ Theodore paused and stared into Pansy’s eager eyes. That was a secret he had not been prepared to divulge, but her veneration had lulled him into a false sense of security. There were secrets he would not share with her. Unfortunately, because of his slip, she now knew it.

‘My dearest Pansy, I know that you’re fond of Daphne. I’m sure that she will continue to keep in touch with you,’ he said, attempting to appease her. He decided not to forbid her from contacting Daphne. She would disobey him, and disobedience was a habit he wanted to break her from. ‘Here is my advice. When you reply to her, tell her this.’

‘First, Goyle is the sole surviving member of his family. He hasn’t told his “friends,” but I’m certain that he is now Secret Keeper. He could take them to Goyle Isle, to his family home. It’s hidden under a Fidelius Charm, so no one could find them.’

‘How do you know?’ Pansy asked.

‘I’m a Nott, you’d be surprised by what we know,’ he told her. ‘Second, if Goyle won’t help them, then they must abandon him. Immediately!’

‘Why?’

‘Because, if my deductions are correct–and they usually are–Gregory Goyle is about to become Potter’s next target,’ said Theodore. ‘Third, the Aurors will be watching Daphne’s finances. My sources told me that is how they found Lestrange. Provided that she trusts Bletchley, your friend Daphne should consider marriage.’




Harry woke from a sleep which had been interspersed by barely remembered dreams. In most of them, he’d been in the Gryffindor Common Room with Ginny. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember any details. He was still tired, but thoughts of Ginny were whirling around his head like pixies, and they pulled him instantly from his bed.

‘No breakfast for me, Kreacher,’ he said to his empty bedroom as he walked over to the window and pulled open the curtains. ‘I’m going out.’ As he expected, Kreacher appeared instantly.

‘Master must eat,’ the house elf said sternly.

‘I know, Kreacher,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, I will. I want to see Ginny, so I’m going straight to The Burrow. Even if I waited for you make my breakfast, the Molly as you call her, would make me another breakfast the moment I arrive.’

Kreacher looked hurt. Harry knew that he’d need to do something to make his house elf happy, and he suddenly knew what to do.

‘I can order you not to cook, Kreacher, but I can’t stop Molly from cooking, sorry. I can’t eat two breakfasts, either,’ Harry told his house elf. ‘Robards wants me to see a Healer this afternoon. I have a two o’clock appointment at St Mungo’s. I’m going to invite Ginny here for dinner tonight. I’d like something special, please. Surprise us.’

Kreacher’s bat-like ears twitched happily. ‘Kreacher will prepare a sumptuous feast for Master and Mistress,’ he promised.

Harry washed, dressed, and left for The Burrow

Molly Weasley didn’t disappoint Harry. The moment he arrived he was told how malnourished he looked, and ordered to sit at the kitchen table. Ginny’s mother grabbed a frying pan, bacon, sausages, eggs, mushrooms and tomatoes, and got to work. As she began cooking, she also started her cross-examination of him. Her husband sat quietly in a corner, occasionally glancing at Harry over the top of his copy of the Daily Prophet.

‘Ginny’s still asleep,’ said Molly. ‘She needs the rest. What were you thinking about, leaving Ginny for a whole month like that? What do you know about this potion she was being given? Do you think she’s fully recovered from it? Who broke into her flat, do you know? What happened with Lestrange? Does it have anything to do with what happened to Ginny? When she came home last night she wasn’t making much sense, she said that her friend Linny had been feeding her the potion, and then she said it was someone else. She was tired and confused, and worried about you, so I gave her a Sleeping Draught.’

Buried under an avalanche of questions, Harry found himself unable to decide where to start the story.

Well?’ Molly demanded.

‘Give Harry a chance to answer, Molly,’ said Arthur. ‘I don’t suppose Harry thought that he was “leaving” Ginny. She had us, and her brothers, and her teammates. Everyone let her down, including us.’

‘At least we tried,’ said Molly, she turned to Harry. ‘When she started misbehaving, we visited her several times. But she wouldn’t listen; she’s such a stubborn and headstrong girl.’

‘Takes one to know one,’ said Ginny from the staircase.

Harry and Arthur stifled their laughter.

Ginny walked down into the kitchen, halted, and smiled nervously at Harry. She was wearing only a Harpies t-shirt and a pair of old green knickers which were split at the side seam. Harry didn’t know where to look, he had too many choices. After examining her legs, hips and breasts, he finished at face. To his relief, she looked like his Ginny.

‘I woke up to the smell of bacon, and thought you were cooking breakfast for me, Mum. I should have realised that it wasn’t for me. It was because your favourite had arrived,’ Ginny said. ‘Morning, Harry.’

Molly turned to face her daughter. ‘Not even a dressing gown! It’s positively indecent. You can’t wander around the house like that, Ginny. Go and put some clothes on. And Harry is not my favourite,’ Molly protested.

‘Harry’s seen me wearing less than this,’ said Ginny. She paused and waited for her mother to glare at both her and Harry–and for Harry to blush–before adding, ‘A bikini.’ She winked at Harry, an action he was certain Arthur had spotted. ‘If Harry isn’t your favourite, Mum, who is?’ she asked. ‘Is it me?’

‘You’re obviously feeling better, Ginny,’ said Molly. ‘Now go upstairs and get dressed. I’ll make your breakfast.’

‘I’m sure Harry doesn’t mind, seeing me in my nightclothes,’ said Ginny. ‘Do you, Harry?’

‘I’m finding it very distracting,’ Harry admitted as he stared across the room.

Ginny’s eyes twinkled with the promise of mischief and more. It was taking all of his willpower to stay seated. He desperately wanted to run across the room and carry her upstairs to her bedroom. He had almost regained control when she yawned, stretched, and lifted her arms above her head. The action lifted her t-shirt by inches, revealing more freckled flesh.

‘Why…’ Harry’s voice was a high-pitched squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘Why don’t you go and get dressed, Ginny, and then we can talk. It won’t hurt to do what your mum wants, just for once, will it?’

‘You’re an odious, obsequious, creep, Potter,’ Ginny told him, laughing. ‘You’re even worse than Perce. It’s no wonder you’re Mum’s favourite.’

‘I don’t have a favourite, and he’s not a creep,’ Molly scolded. She was talking to Ginny’s back, as her daughter was already scampering up the stairs.

‘Worse than Perce, worse than Perce,’ Ginny sang as she left. Harry heard a door slam on the floor above.

‘That girl…’ said Molly, shaking her head. She added more sausages and bacon to the frying pan.

‘You can tell me, Molly, is Ginny your favourite?’ Harry asked.

‘You’re as bad as she is,’ Molly told him, smiling. ‘I’m glad to see you safely back from your mission, dear.’

‘I’m glad to see that Ginny is safely back to her normal self,’ Harry told her.

‘So am I,’ said Arthur. ‘We both are, aren’t we, Molly?’

‘If only we’d known,’ said Molly sadly. ‘A potion, and one which the twins invented at that. Just wait until George gets back from Peru on Friday. What, exactly happened, Harry, can you tell us?’

‘Can we wait until Ginny gets back?’ Harry asked.

‘I suppose so,’ said Molly, busying herself at the stove.

Harry leaned back in the chair and smiled gratefully. The smell of bacon and sausages, the comforting homeliness of The Burrow, and Ginny’s apparent return to normality were enough to wash away any woes and weariness. When Ginny returned a few minutes later she was wearing tight hipster jeans and a crop top, and she was carrying a letter.

‘There was an owl tapping at my window when I got upstairs,’ she announced. ‘The Harpies want me to attend a meeting on Friday afternoon, and go have a full medical next Monday. They want to be certain that I’m fit before I can resume training. The idiots don’t seem to realise that I’m fine. The good news is that I’m excused training until Monday. What are we going to do today Harry?’

‘I’ve got an appointment for St Mungo’s this afternoon,’ said Harry. ‘Robards wants me to have my wounds checked by a qualified Healer.’

‘Wounds!’ exclaimed Ginny. ‘Merlin! How are you, Harry? How could I have forgotten? Take that shirt off, now.’ She dashed across the room, grabbed Harry’s t-shirt, and tried to lift it. Harry tried to fight her off, but she was fast and, unlike him, unafraid of her mother. Worse, he was becoming drunk on his proximity to the real Ginny, the exciting, mischievous girl he loved.

‘Really, Ginny!’ exclaimed Molly. ‘Leave Harry alone!’

‘Not a chance,’ said Ginny. ‘I’ve missed you, Harry. I’ll come to St. Mungo’s with you.’

‘Great,’ Harry told her.

She stopped trying to lift his t-shirt, and instead stood on tiptoe to give him a passionate kiss. Unable to resist, Harry slipped his arms around her waist and responded in kind. The kiss lingered long enough to make Molly loudly clear her throat.

When they parted, both panting, Ginny stepped back and again tugged at his t-shirt. Harry gave in. He allowed her to lift it up, but not off. ‘I’m still bandaged, but Dacia told me that they can come off this afternoon,’ he said. ‘She checked the poultice yesterday, while I was visiting Ross.’

‘Ross?’ asked Ginny. ‘Who is Ross?’

‘Long story,’ said Harry. ‘We’ve got a lot to talk about, Ginny. Would you like to come to Grimmauld Place for dinner tonight?’

‘I’d love to,’ said Ginny.

‘I think that you both have a lot to tell us,’ Molly said, sternly. ‘You could stay here today. I can make dinner, and I could even make up a bed in Ron’s room for you, Harry. You’ve been alone for weeks.’

‘Harry and I have been apart for weeks, Mum,’ Ginny said firmly. ‘We can talk now, and then Harry and I will go to St Mungo’s. After that, Harry and I are going out; just the two of us. Like I said, we have a lot of catching up to do.’

Molly folded her arms, but before she could speak, her husband cleared his throat loudly, and put down his newspaper.

‘I expect you have,’ said Arthur. ‘I know that you were under the influence of a potion, Ginny, but…’ He stared into Harry’s face. ‘What do you know about Ginny’s behaviour while you were away, Harry?’

The man who was the closest thing to a father Harry had looked concerned. And Harry knew he’d have to give an honest an answer as he could.

‘Quite a lot,’ Harry admitted. ‘But I don’t know if I know too much, or not enough.’

Molly was unusually silent as she scooped the huge breakfast onto two plates. She placed the plates on opposite sides of the table, but Ginny moved her plate, sat down next to Harry, and shuffled closer to him.

‘You’re both adults, and I’m simply a foolish old man,’ said Arthur. He paused, and looked from Harry to his daughter and back again. ‘In my opinion, you don’t know enough. I’m sure that you keep secrets from us, but don’t keep secrets from each other.’ He paused and gave them a rueful smile. ‘There you sit, my little girl and her boyfriend, as though nothing had happened. I think you both know that you need to talk to each other more than you need to talk to us.’

Harry nodded.

‘Yes, Dad,’ said Ginny. ‘Thanks.’

‘When I say talk, I mean talk,’ Arthur said seriously. ‘You can get some practice by telling us whatever you feel able to.’

His point made, Arthur lapsed into silence. The void was more than filled by Molly, who began a vigorous cross examination. Harry and Ginny took turns to explain what had been happening. All the while, Molly was gripping the wooden spatula she’d been using as if it was a sword, and she was jabbing it every time she wanted to emphasise a point.

‘So, this beater, Linny Baker, was being given the same potion that she was giving you, Ginny?’ Molly asked.
‘A potion invented by Fred, and George.’

‘Ron said that they only made one batch, which they sold to Daphne Greengrass,’ said Harry. ‘We think that she must have kept some of it and analysed it. Thanks to the Law Office Bailiffs, we know that Daphne has been in contact with Miles Bletchley. We know that they have been experimenting with the potion, too. The latest version, the one the Bailiffs found in Ginny’s flat, contained some very dark magic. The Dementor Essence wasn’t in the ones Auror Byers first analysed, but it was in the ones Linny was giving Ginny. Luna described it as an Imperius Potion, and it seems that she wasn’t far off the mark.’ Harry put down his knife and fork, slid his hand across the table and held Ginny’s hand.

‘I think they were getting desperate, Ginny,’ Harry told her. ‘The potion wasn’t working quickly enough for them. Byers told me that it’s a good thing that they didn’t realise that the alcohol was actually counteracting the potion. The more Ginny sobered up, the more the potion affected her, until it reached the point…’

‘It reached the point where I was horrible to Harry,’ Ginny admitted sadly. ‘Fortunately, he found a way to purge the potion from me.’

‘Where is this Greengrass girl now?’ Molly asked. She thrust the wooden spatula towards Harry in so threatening a manner that Harry was convinced that Ginny’s mother would need no more potent weapon to bring her daughter’s tormentor to justice.

‘She’s disappeared, along with Bletchley and the others,’ said Harry. ‘I read most of the Law Office reports last night, before my meeting with Robards and Kingsley. Robards has put a watch on the Greengrass house, but I don’t think Daphne is stupid enough to go home.’

The discussions continued, and Harry told the Weasleys about Dacia, her daughters, and Ross.

‘Well, the boy is safe in St Mungo’s now,’ said Molly as Harry concluded the story. ‘And Lestrange is dead! That means Ron can leave the Auror Office and help George in the business, just like he promised. I do wish you’d consider leaving, too, Harry. It’s a dangerous job, as you know.’

By the time the story was over, it was almost time for Harry and Ginny to leave. As the time for the hospital appointment approached, Ginny became uncharacteristically silent and sombre. Molly watched her daughter carefully. She was concerned, and she wasn’t the only one.

‘How are you feeling, Ginny?’ Arthur asked.

‘I’m fine, Dad,’ said Ginny. She was trying to sound upbeat, but for once she wasn’t making a very good job of it.

‘I’m sure that, if there are any lingering effects of the potion, we’ll soon find out,’ said Harry as they said their farewells and left.




Mark Moon sat on one of the slate benches in front of the Welsh Office and wondered if he was doing the right thing. He’d asked her out, and she’d said yes. It would be wrong of him to stand her up.

He raised his left hand and examined the bandages. They were orange; the burn-healing paste did that. Mark was lifting his hand to his cheek when he saw her. Cara had entered Carntexp Lane from the Muggle world. He stood up and turned to face her. She stared at his face, hesitated, and then approached cautiously.

‘Merlin! You were fine yesterday morning. Bailiff Owen said you’d gone off to Knockturn Alley. What happened to you?’ she asked, gazing curiously at the orange bandages on his cheek and hands.

Mark hesitated. No one from the Auror Office had contacted him, neither when he’d been in hospital, nor afterwards. No one had told him to keep quiet. Apart from the Healer, the only person who’d spoken to him at St Mungo’s was a sandy-haired young Irishman. The man had entered the treatment room just as Mark was preparing to leave, and had introduced himself as Lavender’s boyfriend.

He was called Seamus Flanagan, or something like that, Mark had stopped paying attention once he’d heard the word boyfriend. Seamus had thanked Mark profusely. But, when Mark asked if he could visit Lavender, Seamus had said no. He’d told Mark that, in addition to Seamus, Lavender’s parents were there, as was Susan and two other girls; Padma and Parvati.

‘Is it a secret?’ Cara asked, pulling him from the girl he’d been thinking about to the girl in front of him.

‘It’s a long story,’ Mark told her. ‘I didn’t get this in Knockturn Alley, I was with the Aurors when they found Lestrange.’

Cara squeaked excitedly.

‘I wasn’t involved in the actual arrest attempt,’ he clarified hastily. ‘I got these burns when I pulled an Auror out of a burning building.’

‘There’s a caf just down the street,’ Cara said excitedly. ‘We can have lunch, and you can tell me all about it.’




‘Who did this to you?’ Healer Bromwitch asked as she examined the bandages on Harry’s chest. She shook her head in disbelief as she plucked out a piece of moss from the edge of the wrappings.

‘A werewolf named Verulf Lowell,’ Harry told her. ‘He’s in an Auror cell, awaiting trial for murder, among other things. Clawing me definitely wasn’t the worst thing he did.’

‘I’m not asking who gave you the scars, Mr Potter,’ Healer Bromwitch said as she began to carefully and professionally remove the bandages. ‘I want to know who is responsible for this… this mess.’ She indicated the bandages themselves, unable to hide her disgust. Dacia’s once golden poultice had reacted with the moss. The result was a dry and flaky material which bore a disgusting resemblance to long-dried cowpats.

‘Healer Dacia Skoll made it,’ Harry said. ‘She checked it for me yesterday, but my boss insisted that I come here to have it removed. The poultice is Dacia’s own invention, I think.’

‘Healer Skoll? I’m sure that she doesn’t work here,’ the Healer said dismissively. ‘I’ve never heard of her.’

‘She doesn’t work anywhere, not yet,’ Harry told the broad-shouldered middle-aged witch. ‘She can’t, she’s a werewolf.’

‘Then she can’t call herself a Healer.’ Healer Bromwitch narrowed her brows as she used her wand and began to brush the flaking mess off Harry’s chest. ‘I’m sure that you’ve been warned previously, Mr Potter. I’m afraid that you should expect deep and severe scarring.’ She glanced up at his forehead. ‘Curse injuries always leave a… Oh.’ The Healer moved closer to Harry, bent forward, and peered closely at his chest. ‘Remarkable,’ she said.

The Healer’s nose was almost touching his bare chest and Harry could feel the warm breath which formed the words on his flesh. Ginny had been sitting quietly in the treatment room, listening to the Healer, but no longer.

‘Why do you have this effect on more mature ladies, Potter?’ Ginny asked, jumping to her feet. ‘McGonagall, Mrs Quarrell, Dacia, and now this Healer, they all seem to fall for you.’

‘Really, Miss Weasley,’ Healer Bromwitch protested. ‘I was simply examining Mr Potter’s chest.’

‘Exactly,’ said Ginny, folding her arms and glaring. ‘A woman of your age, you should be ashamed of yourself. Examining Harry’s chest is my job.’

‘But…’ the Healer protested. Harry came to her rescue before Ginny got into her stride.

‘If you’re happy with my recovery, Healer, I’m leaving’ he said, reaching for his shirt.

Ginny snatched it from his grasp, moved next to the Healer, and examined his latest scars. ‘They’ve healed well,’ she said, gently brushing her fingers across his chest. ‘I was expecting a lot worse, more like Bill’s, but you can hardly see them. What do you think, Healer?’

‘Extraordinary,’ Healer Bromwitch admitted grudgingly. ‘Do you have any idea of the recipe for this potion, Mr Potter?’

‘No, but you can ask Dacia,’ Harry told her. ‘She’s just along the corridor, in ward forty-two — the Sextus Sempernovem ward.’ The Healer raised her eyes in concern. ‘She’s just visiting,’ Harry explained. A friend of her daughter was hurt yesterday. Dacia and her family are visiting him.’

‘They’re all here? I’d like to meet them,’ said Ginny.

‘I’ll introduce you,’ said Harry.




When Harry and Ginny stepped out from the fireplace, he was disappointed to discover Ron and Hermione sitting at the large kitchen table in number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

‘We heard that you’d both been to St. Mungo’s,’ said Hermione worriedly. ‘Is something wrong? Didn’t the poultice work, Harry? Are you okay, Ginny? We were expecting you back an hour ago.’

‘We’re late because, while we were at St Mungo’s, we called in to see how Ross and Lavender were doing.’

‘How is Ross?’ Ron asked.

‘Bright orange,’ Ginny replied.

‘Ross is doing well; the Healers think that he’ll make a full recovery. His dad hasn’t left his side, he even slept there.’ Harry told Ron and Hermione. ‘Ross’s bones are all mended and the internal injuries are being repaired, but he’s pretty much covered in burn-healing paste. It will be more than a week before the burns are completely healed.’

‘How are Amber, and Dacia?’ Ron asked.

‘Amber is fine, mostly. Her bruises are all healed and she’s fully recovered, but I don’t think she’ll ever forgive you for the haircut you gave her.’

‘I was trying to save her,’ Ron protested. ‘Dead is forever, but her hair will grow back in no time.’

‘That’s what I told her,’ Harry told his friend. ‘But I don’t think she’ll be happy until it has grown back. Dacia isn’t happy, either.’

‘From what I saw, I don’t think Dacia is ever happy,’ Ron said.

‘Her house was destroyed, Ron, and she doesn’t like living on Diagon Alley, even temporarily. I think that she’s worried that Amber will try to sneak off and explore Knockturn Alley,’ Harry aid. ‘She’s probably right.’

‘I’m fine, and Harry’s wounds have healed remarkably well. There is nothing more to tell you,’ said Ginny pointedly, grabbing Harry’s hand. ‘So you might as well leave, now.’

Harry threw a meaningful look at Ron and Hermione.

‘What in Merlin’s name is the matter with you, Ginny?’ Ron began. Harry’s look simply bounced off him, but fortunately Hermione caught it.

‘Okay, Harry,’ Hermione said. ‘Come on, Ron,’ she ordered.

‘We’ve been waiting here for an hour, and we’ve seen them for five minutes,’ Ron protested. ‘I haven’t told Harry about Fenella — we still haven’t found her. And… Ow! You hit me Hermione; I thought we’d agreed. No hitting unless…’ Ron’s look of annoyance vanished as he looked down into his girlfriend’s frowning face.

‘You probably want some time to yourselves, don’t you?’ Hermione asked.

Harry nodded.

‘Ah, er… Okay, see you later,’ said Ron.

‘See you tomorrow, Ron,’ Ginny said firmly.

‘You can stay at my place again tonight,’ Hermione told Ron as she led him upstairs.

‘Alone at last,’ said Ginny when Ron closed the kitchen door. She slipped her hands around his waist and rested her head against his chest.

‘A long time ago, in this house, you made me notice you,’ Harry said quietly as he pulled her into a tight hug. ‘You told me off. You reminded me of what you’d been through, you made me listen to you, and everything you told me was true. That was the moment, Ginny. I know it was. Before that, you were around, but that was the moment you stopped being Ron’s sister. That was the moment I realised how wonderful you were. We didn’t talk about what had happened to you, not then. In fact it took us years to discuss it.’

‘Not now, Harry,’ Ginny said. She held him tightly, and spoke into his chest.

‘Why not, Ginny?’ he asked. ‘Now is a good time. It’s half past three. We have more than three hours until dinner, and we have all night.’

‘Don’t you want to … get reacquainted with me,’ Ginny asked breathily, slipping her hands inside his t-shirt.

‘Of course I do,’ Harry told her. ‘But, we need to talk.’

‘Because Dad said so?’

‘Yes,’ Harry admitted. ‘I read the newspapers, Ginny. I was worried about you, I was worried about us. But I’m beginning to think that I wasn’t as worried as I should have been. It wasn’t Voldemort, not this time, but for the second time in your life you’ve had someone in your head.’

He leaned forwards, and kissed the top of her head.

‘When we were in St Mungo’s you asked to see my scars,’ he continued as Ginny remained silent in his arms. ‘What about your scars?’ He gently stroked the side of her head. ‘As you reminded me all those years ago, who else do you know who has experienced something like that? Who can you talk to?’

‘I’m weak. You deserve better,’ she said.

‘You are not weak. You needed me and I wasn’t there for you. No one was there for you. If anyone “deserves better,” it’s you,’ he countered.

‘Part of me wants to hurt you,’ she told him. ‘The potion showed me that. Part of me has always wanted to hurt you, to make you suffer.’

‘That part of you has good reason, Ginny,’ he told her.

‘It doesn’t,’ she said. ‘It was pathetic, all of those stupid little childish thoughts. Because you were such an idiot when you were younger, and because you ignored me when I was eleven! Merlin, what sort of an idiot broods over something like that?’

‘I think we all do, Ginny. I caught a glimpse of your thoughts, when we…’ He cupped her head in his hands, lifted it from his chest, stared down into her deep brown eyes, and spoke earnestly. ‘When I used Legilimency on you yesterday I saw some of that Ginny. There are times when you annoy me, Ginny, so obviously there must be times when I annoy you. Last night I spoke to Byers about that potion. He told me that it reinforces the negatives and blocks the positives. Almost everything you like about me was being blocked. And all the little things I do which annoy you were amplified. I’ve tried to imagine what that must be like. Byers warned me that it might take a while for you to come to terms with it.’

‘I might have…’

‘You didn’t’

‘I could have…’

‘But you didn’t.’

‘How can you be sure, Harry? What if I’m lying to you?’

‘Are you?’

‘No, but I kissed someone else.’

‘You’re strong, Ginny. You fought the potion and, yesterday, we fought it together. You told your mum that I purged the potion from you. It wasn’t just me, it was us. I had a glimpse inside your head. I saw you at your best and at your worst, and I still love you, even if you kissed a bloke at a party.’ As they stared into each other’s eyes, he saw her realise the truth of his words.

‘It wouldn’t have happened if you’d been here,’ Ginny announced. ‘So, new rule: a week apart is the maximum. No long missions for you…’

‘And no long tours for you, unless I can come with you.’

‘Deal,’ said Ginny. They sealed it with a kiss. ‘Now, let’s go upstairs.’

‘We still have a lot to discuss.’

‘And we have all night to do it,’ she said.

‘When you say “do it”, do you mean talk?’ he asked.

‘Among other things.’

‘What do you think would happen if we used Legilimency on each other while we were “doing it”?’ he asked.

‘Let’s find out,’ she said.




‘What’s that noise?’ Ginny asked.

‘It sounds like a gong,’ Harry said. He disentangled himself from her, and from the bedclothes. To his surprise, the bedroom was dark.

‘Lumos,’ Ginny murmured. ‘Merlin, it’s seven o’clock, Harry, we’ve been in bed for more than three hours!’

‘And we’ve learned a lot about each other,’ he said, leaning over and kissing her on the base of her spine. ‘That will be the dinner gong, Kreacher’s discreet way of summoning us to the dining room.’

‘Perfect timing,’ said Ginny. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’ve certainly worked up an appetite.’

‘Actually, you do know about me,’ Harry told her. ‘And I know about you, too.’ He staggered across the bedroom and grabbed their dressing gowns from the hook on the door.’

‘So we do,’ she agreed. ‘Great minds think alike. Why bother getting dressed for dinner?’

They were supporting each other, and giggling like schoolchildren when they entered the dining room. If Kreacher was surprised by their attire, he didn’t show it.

‘Venison with Pear and Walnuts,’ Kreacher announced. ‘And there is a letter for you, Master. It is from Miss Fenella Gray, she wishes to talk to you, tomorrow.’

Harry read the letter, and swore. ‘Take a look at this, Ginny, he said, passing it across the table to her.
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