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SIYE Time:2:32 on 29th March 2024
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The Beast Within
By hgromance

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Draco Malfoy, Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Oliver Wood, Other, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Severus Snape, Sirius Black
Genres: Drama, Romance
Warnings: Death, Mild Language
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 272
Summary: Two pivotal things happen the night of October 31, 1981. They will change the course of Harry's life. Forever.





Posting issue resolved. For the moment at least and hopefully permanently.
Hitcount: Story Total: 152337; Chapter Total: 5663
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Feel special. I'm updating when I haven't gotten too far into Chapter 18. Don't expect this often though. Special thanks to my beta, Arnel, who has been catching all my little errors whether they be grammatical, spelling or Americanisms. Oh, and I realized after I had written this out that Colloportus is taught first year, at least it's in the first year text, so just pretend that Harry adds an extra twist to it to make the door actually meld with the walls.




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Unity, I thought, implies the possibility of disunity. Beginnings imply and require endings.
― Ann Leckie, Ancillary Justice


Harry insisted on riding the train back to Hogwarts like a regular student so here he sat with Ginny, Hermione and Neville. Ron was hanging out with Dean and Seamus and Harry was okay with that. While he and Ron had had some civil conversation and shared a joke or two, neither was very comfortable around the other yet. Ginny had praised him for his efforts at getting along with Ron and it had made Harry feel as big as Hagrid. Soon after the train left King's Cross Station, Harry made his announcement.

“There's something you two need to know. We didn't want either of you to feel left out.”

Hermione put down the book she was flipping through and gave Harry her undivided attention. Neville's gaze bounced between Harry and Ginny before nodding at Harry to go ahead.

“First of all, you need to know that someone has been destined to get rid of Voldemort–for good. Someone in this compartment, actually. I won't say more but it's not too difficult to figure out.”

For a brief moment, the two across from him simply stared at him. Then Hermione gasped, her eyes going wide. The next thing Harry knew, he had an armful of his second closest friend. A few moments later, she pulled away, her eyes glistening. Hermione looked to Ginny as if seeking confirmation. At the other girl's nod, Hermione's eyes filled further.

“I'm so sorry, Harry,” she barely managed to say.

Ginny slipped onto the seat next to Hermione and hugged her. Feeling Neville's gaze, Harry looked over at his newest friend. Neville didn't appear distraught or anxious or anything. For the first time, that Harry could remember anyway, Neville appeared rather calm, not saying anything, just studying Harry. Then the boy seemed to come to a conclusion and nodded.

“I can't say that I'm surprised because I'm not, really. It makes a kind of sense.” Neville drew in a breath before speaking the name everyone seemed afraid to say. “V-Voldemort went after you when you were just a baby. He hasn't done that with anyone else. There had to have been a reason.”

“What makes you think he was after me? He could have just been after my parents.”

“Voldemort personally attacked you. He didn't do that unless the person held some kind of significance to him. At least, that's the way it seemed. That's what my Gran said. So it's no real surprise that you're The One.”

“How do you know it's you, Harry?” Hermione asked, valiantly trying to compose herself.

“The prophecy, Hermione. I know what it says and it describes me perfectly.” Harry lifted his fringe and revealed his famous scar. “This proves it. He marked me as his equal, Hermione.”

“You are his equal, Harry,” Neville agreed. “You can do things that are beyond the rest of us.”

Harry shrugged. “I've gotten a lot more practice than you, I'm sure. I was taught since I was really little. Given enough time, you could do the same things.”

Neville shook his head. “I doubt it. For the longest time, my relatives thought I was a Squib. I just didn't show any magical aptitude until I was eight years old.”

“It doesn't matter, Neville. All the spells I can do are taught at Hogwarts. There's nothing special about them. My mum was gifted in Potions and Charms. My dad was good at Charms and Transfiguration and Defense, too, I guess, since he was a great duelist. I just inherited those talents–although you couldn't prove it by my Summoning Charm. Uncle Remus, obviously, is good at Defense so it's only natural that I'd pick up more of it.” Seeing Neville was still skeptical, he made the boy an offer. “I can teach you what I know–if you want.”

“Really? You'd be willing to do that?”

“Sure, Neville. You're a friend and I have a feeling that my friends are going to be targeted by Voldemort and his followers. It's better if you can really defend yourselves. We'll just have to figure something out.”

“That brings us to the other thing Harry and I wanted to talk to you both about. We wanted to tell you so there were no hard feelings. During the holidays, another prophecy was made, one that involves Harry and myself–and Voldemort.” Heat colored Harry's cheeks as she mentioned the next part. “It basically says that Harry and I will always be together and that I'm supposed to help him. We don't know exactly how yet.”

Neville grinned. “So it wasn't just my imagination then. I thought you seemed closer.”

Ginny returned to her spot beside Harry, smiling. “It's been an interesting holiday, that's for sure.”

“Sounds like it,” Hermione agreed, though she was already aware of the newly formed relationship between her friends.

“Right,” Harry picked up the conversation again. “Dumbledore is letting us drop History of Magic class. On Fridays, we'll be going to his office and doing... Well, we don't know what it is we'll be doing. Anyway, we wanted to tell you so when you didn't see me in class, you'd know why. Also because Ginny's brothers know, too.”

“Hermione, we didn't want you to get upset when you realized Ron knew and you didn't.”

“Thanks, both of you. You're right, Ginny. I probably wouldn't have been really hurt.”

“Yeah, thanks for including me, Harry. I appreciate that.”

Harry met the boy's gaze. “And I appreciate you accepting me as you have. That means a lot to me. Besides, there's more. Apparently there's a reason why only you three have noticed my eyes. You're destined to help in some way, too.”

The two looked shocked and Hermione was actually speechless.

“We'll share with you two whatever it is we learn from Dumbledore,” Ginny assured them.

“That's a great idea, Ginny,” Harry said, nodding. “We'll just have to pick a time that works for all of us, which shouldn't be too hard since three of us are in the same year. We can help each other with homework or whatever to help free up some time.”

Hermione came to her senses and said excitedly, “I can set up a revising schedule for us. That'll make it easier to see what free time we have.”

Harry laughed. “Sounds good.”

“Are we really that special, Harry?” Neville asked skeptically.

“You are in my opinion, Neville.”

After that, conversation turned to more lighthearted things until the lunch trolley came around. With a cheeky grin, Harry tossed a package of toothflossing stringmints to Hermione–he'd learned over the holidays that her parents were dentists–he picked up some Chocolate Frogs and Sugar Quills for Nevile and bought Ginny and himself some chocolate frogs along with a couple of cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties.

As the four friends munched, each shared what they did over the holidays. Hermione went into greater detail about her trip to France. She excitedly chattered about visiting The Louvre and seeing all the old paintings by the world's best artists. Notre Dame Cathedral was another place she and her family explored. She tried to explain, and failed miserably, what it was like hearing the bells ring out across the city. And, of course, she mentioned that each bell was named. The Arc de Triomphe, she told them, was a beautifully built structure that honors those who had fought and died in the French Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars with names inscribed on it of the French victories and generals. She mentioned the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier from World War I was under the Arc.

Ginny, eyes dancing with mischief, asked her, “Did you go up in the Eiffel Tower?”

Hermione vehemently shook her head. “No way. Mum and I kept our feet firmly on the ground. Dad did go up though and got some really nice pictures. There's so many beautiful things to see and fun things to do. It was amazing.”

“Sounds like it was a lot of fun.” Neville's voice held the slightest note of envy.

“So, how was your holiday, Neville?”

Neville shrugged and looked away from the girl beside him. “It was fine. Not as exciting as yours.” He paused then said in a small voice, “Just visited some relatives.”

The girls and Harry exchanged glances, none of them knowing how to respond. They were saved by the compartment door sliding open.

“Wow,” came a heavily sarcastic voice. “Look at the rubbish in this compartment.” Draco's stone grey eyes jumped from one individual to the next, a sneer twisting his features. “But then again, maybe you all deserve each other.”

Harry stood, staring Draco down. “That's right. We do. Hermione's the smartest witch in school, is loyal and dependable. Ginny is smart, funny, loyal and dependable, and Neville--”

“Longbottom is practically a Squib.” Draco's companions, Crabbe and Goyle, snickered stupidly.

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Neville is worth a hundred of you. Can you say any of that about your so-called friends? If it came down to you or them, do you really think they wouldn't choose themselves?”

Something glinted in Draco's eyes for a half second before the boy looked away. “If I were you,” he said to the others, “I'd distance myself from certain people before the fleas begin troubling you, too.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat, Malfoy?” Harry asked, invading Draco's personal space.

“Oh, no, Potter,” the blond teen said in a soft, oily voice. “That's a promise.” Draco's gaze hit each of Harry's companions a final time before he turned his back on the four of them. “Crabbe, Goyle, let's go. I don't want any fleas landing on me.”

Harry tensely watched the three wander down the train car, occasionally poking their heads into compartments. He and Draco were going to have it out, Harry knew. Likely, sooner rather than later. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the door's frame and continued to watch the three Death Eater wannabes. As Harry watched, Draco turned back to him and locked eyes with him briefly. It made Harry think, again, of that instant something else had been in the blond boy's eyes. What had it been? Regret? Longing? Envy? Or was he just imagining things?

A gentle hand on his arm brought him out of his musings. He turned his back to everyone outside his compartment and forced a smile on his face. Naturally, Ginny saw his pitiful attempt for what it was, giving him a “you're not fooling me” look. Then her eyes twinkled.

“Draco would make a great Puffskein, don't you think?”

And just like that, Harry found himself relaxing again, laughing at the thought of a white-blond puffskein. That would take a little work but maybe, just maybe, they could pull it off.

“Yes,” he agreed, grinning madly. “Yes, he would.”

“Harry, you'll get into trouble,” Hermione protested.

Harry said to Hermione as he and Ginny sat down again, “Who would know it was us? You and Neville are the only ones who heard that. Are you going to report us?”

“I won't,” vowed Neville. “He needs to be brought down a little, always strutting around like he's the best thing in school.”

“But, Harry, it won't solve anything. It'll probably just make things worse.”

“Maybe not, but it'll sure make me feel better.”

Hermione huffed, threw up her hands and pulled out her book, a clear signal that she wasn't going to try to talk him out of it anymore.

“Now we just need a plan.”

0000000000


For the hour Harry would have been in History class the following day, he spent the time in the library looking up different potions, hoping to find one he could use for his and Ginny's prank on Malfoy, while Ginny worked on something in the common room. She was rather secret about whatever it was and insisted he stay gone, that she'd meet him in the Great Hall at supper. It took nearly the entire four o'clock hour but he did come across one that looked promising. More importantly, it didn't look too difficult and the ingredients weren't suspicious in nature. Pulling out parchment, ink and quill, Harry copied down the potion painstakingly slowly to make sure it was completely legible.

Seeing it was only five o'clock and knowing that Ginny was doing, well, whatever, he figured he should take the opportunity to work on the Silencing Charm again. On his way up to the seventh floor to work in the Room of Requirement, Mrs. Norris appeared on the steps above him. She stared at him a moment with her seeminly glowing yellow eyes. Then her dust-colored fur stood on end. She hissed at him and ran–right to Argus Filch.

“What's the matter, my sweet? What's got you so bothered?”

Harry had heard about Filch and his cat so didn't fancy meeting the cantankerous old caretaker but there wasn't anywhere for Harry to hide. He'd succeeded in not running afoul of either one until now. Apparently, his luck had run out.

“A student out of class!” Filch called out gleefully. “Detention it will be for you!”

Filch shuffled down the stairs carrying the cat until she hissed again, jumped out of Filch's arms and ran off.

“What did you do to my cat? What did you do to my precious?”

“I didn't do anything to her. She just doesn't seem to like me. As for being out of class, I have permission from Professor Dumbledore.”

The hunchbacked man glared at Harry with bulging pale eyes for a moment. “We'll see about that, won't we? Let's see what the Headmaster has to say.”

Harry trudged after the old caretaker, tuning out the man's nearly giddy comments about his well-oiled chains for stringing students up by their wrists or ankles as punishment. In Harry's opinion, the man was delusional if he thought Professor Dumbledore would allow that. By the time they'd reached the guarded staircase to Dumbledore's office, Harry wanted to tell the man to shut up already. He'd thought maybe, just maybe, everyone had been exaggerating about Filch a little. Now, Harry knew they hadn't been.

On the ride up to Dumbledore's office door, the man continued blithering on about whips and the old punishments. It was all Harry could do to keep from rolling his eyes, saying something that could really get him into trouble. At the top, Filch knocked on the door and gave Harry a little shove into the office.

“Headmaster, I found this one roaming the corridors when he should have been in class. And he did something to Mrs. Norris. What shall his punishment be? The whips? The chains?”

“Ah. Hello, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore cheerfully greeted Harry, ignoring Filch completely. Reaching over, he lifted a small bowl from the corner of his desk. “Lemon drop?”

“Headmaster, this boy wasn't in class like he should have been. Thought the rules didn't apply to him, he did, but I set him straight. He claims he has permission from you to be wandering the halls.”

“What have you been doing with your time, Mr. Potter?”

There was no way Harry was telling Dumbledore exactly what he'd been doing but a half-truth would be sufficient.

“I was in the library, Professor, doing some research and then I decided to get in some practice on my Silencing Charm. I've only gotten it to work once so far and was hoping to get it to work again. That's when Mrs. Norris found me.”

The Headmaster's blue eyes twinkled merrily. “Professor Flitwick will be happy to hear of your success and your continued devotion to your project.” After a quick glance at the time, he smiled. “You still have some time. Go ahead and go practice. I daresay you will get it soon.”

“What?” Filch nearly shrieked. “But Headmaster--”

Harry nearly smiled as headed for the office door. One chance meeting with Filch and his cat was enough for Harry. His Map was going to be getting a lot of use from now on. A smile did slide across his face at the Headmaster's next words.

“Mr. Potter does indeed have my permission to be out of class on Mondays at four o'clock and also on Wednesdays at three o'clock. Likewise, Miss Weasley also will be out of class on Tuesdays and Thursdays at four o'clock.”

Harry slipped out and rode the stairs back down feeling rather...smug, he supposed. Vindicated, maybe. Not knowing exactly what time it now was, he absently paced by the expanse of wall where the magical room had appeared before, unsure if he should go in. He didn't want to miss supper after all. Then he stopped in his tracks and smacked himself.

“Oh, Potter, you're an idiot,” he muttered to himself. “The room can handle a working clock, surely, seeing as it can create an invisible barrier strong enough to...”

The thought still made him shudder. It had been way too close for comfort. If they'd been on any other floor, they would have had a major issue. Giving himself a mental shake, Harry opened the heavy wooden door that had appeared and prepared to work.

0000000000


“Find anything interesting?” Ginny asked Harry as she joined him by the Great Hall doors.

They walked in and took their seats before Harry answered her. “I did, actually. It's a potion with some really common ingredients. I don't think I'm going to have any trouble with it.”

Ginny grinned wickedly. “That's great. I can't wait to try it and watch Fred and George attempt to convince everyone they didn't do it.”

After filling his plate, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. Handing it to Ginny, he said, “This is what I found.”

Between bites of her own supper, Ginny skimmed through the potion ingredients and instructions. As she did so, Hermione and Neville sat down and served themselves.

“What's that?” Neville asked, pointing at the parchment.

“Oh,” Harry tried to say casually, the corners of his lips tilting upward despite his best efforts for them not to. “just an interesting potion I found in the library.”

Hermione paused mid-serve and stared at Harry. “That's not for what I think it is, is it?”

“So what if it is?” Ginny shot back before Harry could respond.

“It's just not safe, Ginny. Neither of you know what side effects that potion can have and if it's brewed incorrectly--”

“Hermione,” Harry jumped in, his voice hushed. “if I can brew the Wolfsbane Potion, I can brew this. This isn't nearly as complicated as that one.”

Hermione's eyes widened, brows jumping toward her hairline. “You can brew the Wolfsbane Potion?”

“I've been doing it for a few years now. Trust me when I say I can do this one.”

Ginny hastily folded the parchment and handed it back to Harry before anyone could see what was written there. The last thing they needed was to be seen holding the written potion that would–at some point–be used on Malfoy.

“So where will you brew it?” Neville's brown eyes gleamed with anticipation.

“Remember back when you found out about...” Neville nodded to say he knew what Harry was referring to. “Well, a magical room had appeared and that's where Ginny and Hermione took me. It kept them safe from me.”

Hearing a note of guilt in his voice, Ginny slipped her hand around Harry's arm. “It kept you safe, too, Harry.”

Harry looked incredulously at Ginny. “How's that? I wasn't the one in danger.”

“Think about it, Harry. If you'd been free, there's no telling what spells would have been thrown at you to try to stop you.”

“I suppose.” Harry's voice made it apparent he wasn't too convinced. He turned back to Neville. “Anyway, I'm thinking that's the best room. I was just in there earlier to practice my Silencing Charm. It's a great room.”

“Did you have any luck with the charm?”

Harry nearly laughed. Leave it to Hermione to look so enthused over spell practice. “I did. A few times, even.”

“Harry, that's great!” Ginny threw her arms around Harry, gave him a quick squeeze and kiss before pulling away. “I knew you could do it. I told you! You just had to keep trying. Did you write it down in your journal for Professor Flitwick?”

“Yes, Ginny,” he said, laughing. “I'll turn it in tomorrow.”

Two bodies suddenly plopped onto the bench facing backwards, one on each side of Harry and Ginny.

“There's way too much fun being had down here.”

“Yes, how dare you have so much fun without us?”

Thankful he'd already put the parchment back into his pocket, Harry shrugged, grinning still. “I was just telling them I managed to get a spell to work. Didn't think you guys would be all that interested.”

From beside Ginny, Fred scrunched his nose. “Is that all? You lot need a better definition of fun.”

George shook his head in mock disappointment. “And here I thought it was something truly fun. Imagine, laughing over schoolwork.” He shuddered at the thought. Then he smiled. “No offense, Granger.”

Hermione shrugged. “None taken. I've given up trying to convince you two to actually apply yourselves in your studies.”

Fred leaned over the table to catch his brother's eye. “She really is the smartest witch of her age.”

“Never doubted it for a second, Freddie.”

The two jokesters saucily winked at Hermione before standing and heading out the door, apparently finished with their suppers. Neville chuckled and shook his head..

“Are those two ever serious?”

Ginny sobered a little. “When the situation warrants it.”

Knowing exactly what situation she was thinking of, Harry laced his fingers with hers. “Don't worry about it. Instead, start thinking of ways to use the potion I found.”

The twinkle came back into her light brown eyes and she smiled just as he'd hoped she would. “I will be,” she said with a little laugh.

A shadow fell over them and Harry looked up. He nearly gulped at the expressionless face of Professor McGonagall. He really hoped she didn't overhear anything she shouldn't have.

“Miss Weasley, Mr. Potter, please come to my office when you have finished your meal.”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry replied meekly. Ginny only nodded.

Seemingly satisfied, McGonagall walked briskly out of the Great Hall. Harry turned from watching his head of house and caught Ginny's eye. He raised his brows in silent question and received a shrug in return.

“What do you think she wants?” Neville asked of his friends.

“Maybe it has something to do with that open period on Friday,” Hermione all but whispered.

Harry shrugged. “We won't know until get to her office.”

The four of them continued with their suppers until Harry and Ginny decided to just go ahead and see what the professor wanted. The two stood and turned to the door in time to see Ron walk in. Ginny turned to Neville and Hermione.

“Why is Ron so late?”

Hermione sniffed, a little indignant. “He got caught sleeping during History of Magic. Binns made him clean all the erasers and the chalkboard. I keep telling him not to sleep in class. Maybe now he'll listen.”

Neville grinned. “Somehow I don't think he will, Hermione. Sorry, but that has to be the most boring class in this school.”

“Well,” she drew out the word, looking slightly pained. “I hate to say it but you're right. It is a fair bit boring.”

Ginny gasped melodramatically. “Hermione admitted a class was boring.” She looked all around. “But the world isn't ending.”

In response, Hermione tore off a chunk from her bread slice and pitched it at Ginny. The scholarly girl had a smile on her face making it clear she hadn't taken any offense.

“Come on, Harry,” Ginny said, no longer laughing. She reached for the hand she had released in order to finish supper. “We probably shouldn't keep her waiting.”

“Yeah, I reckon so,” he said, sighing.

As they drew closer to Ron, Harry saw the other boy's eyes drift downward to his hand in Ginny's and then lift again. He also was aware they had an audience. It was well-known how much Ron disliked Harry and everyone seemed to hold their breath waiting to see what was going to happen. What actually ensued was rather anticlimatic.

Ron gave Harry and Ginny a curt nod. “Harry. Ginny.”

“Ron.” The two responded, gave their own nods and kept walking.

Harry could have sworn he heard the enitre student body sigh in disappointment. Too bad. Rolling his eyes at the voyeuristic nature of his classmates, he dismissed them and tried to enjoy the walk up to McGonagall's office. Once there, he exchanged nervous glances with Ginny before steeling himself and knocking on the heavy wooden door.

Almost immediately the door opened. “Miss Weasley, Mr. Potter, do come in.” The professor motioned the pair to a couch and chair a short distance from her desk. “Please. Have a seat.”

“Is there something wrong, Professor?” Harry dared to ask. “Did we do something wrong?”

The normally stern witch sat in the chair and smiled at her two students. “Of course not. I'm sorry to give you that impression.” Then her eyebrows rose and she studied them. “Unless, of course, there's something I don't know about and should...?”

“No, Professor,” both teens said simultaneously and not without a little quiver in their voices.

“Alright, then,” the professor said, nodding once. “I asked you to come to my office because I wanted to chat with you two, see how you were handling things.” She turned to Harry. “You've been doing quite well according to your other professors. Filius told me of your Charms journal. That's quite a challenge you've taken on, far beyond the capabilities of most third years. How has that been going?”

“Er, okay, I guess. I finally did get the charm to work over Christmas. Then I couldn't do it again until earlier today.”

“Well done. Ten points are in order then. Keep at it. Once you've gotten it a time or two, it'll come quicker.” To Ginny, she said, “Miss Weasley, I hear you're going to be our Seeker in our next game. Excited? Anxious?”

“Maybe a little,” Ginny admitted with a small shrug. “I'm not anywhere near as good as Harry. I don't want to be the reason we lose. Cho Chang is tough, I hear.”

“Yes, she's quite talented, however, I have faith in you. You're not without skills of your own. Plus, you're lighter than she is. It can make a big difference.”

“And you'll be on my broom,” Harry added. “I know you can do it.”

Ginny smiled, a little more relieved. “Thanks, Harry. You, too, Professor.”

“I speak the truth. Now, on to other things. I see the Christmas holiday brought a gift of another kind.”

Minerva motioned toward the teens' clasped hands and briefly fought a grin as the pair blushed and squirmed a little.

“Er, yes,” Harry replied, not daring to look up. “Christmas definitely has been good to me this year.”

“That's good to hear, Harry. That brings me to my next topic of conversation. That prophecy. Have you given it any more thought?”

This time Ginny answered first. “Not really. We know it pertains to us and that we're supposed to be together. That's all we really care about.”

“You don't feel...cheated...out of anything? Most girls love the idea of dating several boys, having that normal teenage experience before finding the one they feel is the right one for them. Some would say the search is half the fun.”

Ginny shrugged again. “I guess I'm just not like most girls because I don't feel that way at all. To my way of thinking, this is much better. I won't be wasting time with someone I don't really care about. I've seen and heard a lot of the sixth and seventh year girls talking and crying about how they got dumped by the boy they were with. I can avoid all that.”

“I'm impressed. That's rather mature thinking, Ginny. Harry? What are your thoughts on the whole thing?”

“I agree with Ginny. I'll admit it scares me that she'll be in the thick of everything when the time comes but I'm also glad that she'll be with me, too. And yeah, avoiding the drama of dating girls and getting feelings hurt and all that–it's a relief to not have to go through it.”

“I feel I need to warn you both. It's not going to always be easy, not when emotions are involved. Both of you are very stubborn. You're going to argue and likely things will be said that aren't meant. Just remember, the most important thing in a relationship is communication. It's imperative that you understand that. If one of you is upset at the other, you need to talk about it. Not yell, not accuse, but talk and if you need a third party to lend an ear, come to me. We'll get together and get to the heart of the problem. It's a lot to put on your shoulders as young as you are, I know. I'll always make time for the two of you, either together or apart. That's another thing. It's okay to need time to yourselves. Sometimes being alone can be revitalizing. It lets you step back and put things in perspective. Don't be afraid to tell the other that you want to be alone for awhile and don't take it personally if you're told that.”

The Gryffindor Head of House paused but neither Harry or Ginny looked up, too embarrassed to be getting relationship advice at all, much less from their professor.

“Well, I've probably said enough. I meant what I said about you coming to me. I'll listen, no matter what it's about. Alright?” Faces still burning, the teens glanced quickly up and nodded. “Alright, then. I have to say I was proud of the way you two handled meeting Mr. Weasley in the Great Hall this evening. Take another ten points for that.”

“Thanks, Professor. We're trying to work through it. I don't see us being best mates or anything but...”

“And you don't have to be.” Minerva shook her head regretfully. “You're so much more mature than you should be. I'm sorry this has all fallen to you. You should be having a childhood equal to your classmates–or at least equal to your parents'.”

Ginny's eyes suddenly grew mischievous. “Oh, you don't have to worry about that.”

“Ginny!”

McGonagall held up her hands. “Say no more. I don't want to know anything else. I have to have deniability, you know.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, that's what Uncle Remus told me, too.”

Minerva nodded. “Good. Now, I believe I've kept you long enough.”

All three stood and walked to the office door. Minerva opened the door and bid them good evening with a parting shot.

“Good luck in the Quidditch game, Miss Weasley.”

“Thanks, Professor.”

As they climbed the stairs to their common room, Harry glanced over at Ginny. The redness in her cheeks had faded to pink. He hoped his own had done the same. Ginny caught him looking and her face reddened again.

“That was awful,” she groaned. “I don't think I've ever been more embarrassed in my life. Oh, wait, yes I have. 'The Talk' with Mum was way worse but this was a close second.”

Harry felt the heat burn in his cheeks again and sighed. “Yeah, sitting there listening to our professor talk was...was...I don't have a word bad enough to describe it. I'm glad I wasn't the only one feeling that way.”

“Definitely not.” Ginny stopped climbing and sat down. “Do you mind if we sit out here a few minutes? It's not quite curfew yet. I don't feel like going into the common room right now.”

“No, that's fine.” He joined her on the top step of the staircase. “To tell you the truth, I'm not so keen on facing anyone just yet after that, either.”

Ginny looked anxious a moment then said what was on her mind. “Promise me that if I ever do something to hurt your feelings or to make you mad, you'll tell me because I don't want to go through any of that any more than we have to.”

“I can promise to try, Ginny. I'm not exactly used to sharing what I think or what I'm feeling, remember.”

“I remember but you've done fairly well so far. As long as you promise to try. That's all I can ask.”

“And you'll do the same, right? More than likely it'll be me who says or does something really stupid. Promise me that you'll try to listen, really listen, to my side before blasting me to bits.”

Ginny laughed. “I probably would do that, wouldn't I? I can promise to try.” She shrugged. “I have a temper. You know that.”

“I know. I've seen it in action. That's why I said what I did. I have a healthy fear of that hex of yours.”

“Good,” Ginny quipped, an impish grin on her face.

“Come on, let's get back before it's past curfew.”

The couple climbed the rest of the way in silence until they reached the portrait of The Fat Lady. Ginny gave the password and the lock behind the portrait clicked open. The instant the painting was moved, the pair was blasted with angry raised voices.

“They're vicious! They deserve what they get! Going around attacking innocent people! I know I'm not the only one who feels this way, just the only one who's willing to speak up.”

“How can you say that, Seamus? They didn't ask to be bitten! Transforming isn't something they can help but with the Wolfsbane Potion, they're okay.”

Harry stepped cautiously into the room unnoticed since all the attention was on the argument between Seamus Finnegan and Neville. Seamus laughed mirthlessly.

“That's what they want you to think. Lure you in so you're easier to attack.”

Neville crossed his arms over his chest. “It's been proven to help and you know it, Seamus.”

Seamus shrugged. “And so what if it does? It's not like everyone can afford to get it now can they?”

“Because of attitudes like yours, Seamus,” Hermione jumped in, “those afflicted have been pushed to the edges of society. How are they expected to have any money if they can't find work?”

Realizing he had a death grip on Ginny's hand, Harry abruptly loosened his hand. She wouldn't let him drop her hand, though, and he was grateful. Neville's gaze flicked to the two of them, telegraphing their presence. Seamus turned and grinned.

“Now there's someone who should understand what I'm talking about,” he said. “You've heard about the attacks on werewolves, haven't you? Don't you think it's a good thing?”

Ignoring the last question, Harry tensely asked, “Why would I understand your side of it, Seamus?”

“Well, everyone knows there were werewolves present when your parents were killed, attacked the entire village! I'd reckon you'd have something against them after that.”

“My parents weren't attacked by werewolves, Seamus,” Harry coldly replied. “They were killed by Voldemort.”

Seamus rolled his eyes. “I know that but the werewolves helped Voldemort, they were allies. Surely, that's enough to think they're all vicious killers and not worthy of any sympathy.”

Harry strode purposefully to his dormmate until they were only a couple feet apart. “So, in your opinion, they all should die whether they be man, woman or child? It doesn't matter that someone was bitten just because their parents or even themselves stood up and refused to be bullied into doing what they knew was wrong?”

“It's not like they're human anymore, Harry. I can't believe you're not agreeing with me.”

“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Judging all werewolves on the actions of some is like saying all Slytherins are ambitious and evil--”

“Aren't they?”

“--like saying all Ravenclaws are smart and care about nothing outside of books--”

“Well--”

“--or that all the Hufflepuffs are loyal, work hard and are happy with life as it is--”

“Now, I didn't--”

“--or that all Gryffindors are brave! By your way of thinking, Hermione should be in Ravenclaw because of her grades and love of reading, Neville would make a great Hufflepuff because he's a great friend and works hard, Fred and George belong in Slytherin because they're cunning and have ambition.”

“Hey!” the twins exclaimed, taking some offense.

“They all were put in Gryffindor instead,” Harry continued, not missing a beat, “because people aren't just one thing. Hermione has done some things at this school that none of you would have been willing to do. The fact that Neville has stood against you in front of everyone is a testament as to why he's in this house. The twins have pulled off some really great pranks from what I hear and that takes some daring.”

“Sorry, Harry. I didn't realize it was such a sore subject with you. I didn't think--”

“That's it exactly. You didn't think. You just spouted all the prejudiced hate you've heard before and didn't stop to actually think about it. Rather 'evil-Slytherin' of you, don't you think? Again, though, you were placed in here. Get my point?”

“Yeah, okay,” Seamus said, more subdued. “I get it but you can't deny some deserve to die.”

“That's an entirely different discussion. One I really don't feel like getting into. I won't deny that there's a lot of werewolves out there who relish attacking innocent people but there's also a lot of them out there who wish they didn't have to suffer every month, who wish they could take the Wolfsbane Potion and not become monsters at each full moon. They'd prove themselves trustworthy if given half a chance.”

Seamus raised his hands as if to ward Harry off. “I can see your point about making generalizations but I suppose we'll have to disagree on the rest of it.”

Harry shrugged. “Fine. Whatever.” He looked around at those gathered. “Anyone else have an opinion they'd like to share? Or have something to say?”

Someone, a fourth year, piped up, sounding just a little obnoxious. “That seemed a little personal, Potter. Have you had any dealings with actual werewolves?”

Harry's gaze jumped between Neville, Hermione and Ginny before turning to the speaker. The boy was taller than Harry–broader, too, but in an athletic way. His wiry brown hair appeared carefully mussed. He radiated arrogance and affluence. It was the arrogance that set Harry's teeth on edge. Then he felt Ginny's hand slip into his and it helped settle him.

“As a matter of fact, I have had some personal dealings with werewolves. I don't think we've met. Who are you?”

“Cormac McLaggen and Granger's not the only one to have done some good things while here.”

“I'm sure,” Harry dismissively said and turned away from him, missing the flush coloring the boys face and the clenching of his jaw.

“Hey, Harry,” Ron hesitantly called from across the room. “Want to play some chess? I'll even let Ginny help you.”

Hyper-aware of their audience, Harry nodded. “Sure.”

“Harry,” Ginny whispered, “you don't need any help.”

Mischief dancing in his green eyes, he smiled down at her. “I know that and you know that. He's about to know that.”

“You're so bad,” she said, laughing. “This is going to be fun.”

Ron began setting up the board and Harry sat across from him but not before mouthing 'thank you' to Neville with a tilt of his head toward Seamus, who sat in a corner with his friend Dean Thomas, and got a sheepish shrug and nod in return from the otherwise quiet Gryffindor. Ron opened the game with a pawn and Harry followed suit. After a few turns, Harry deviated from the typical moves to see how Ron would respond and was rewarded when Ginny's brother sat back, eyes narrowed yet flying around the board, body tense. After he'd scrutinized the board, Ron gave a little triumphant cry and moved one of his pieces, effectively countering Harry's attack. The smug look was wiped off his face rather quickly.

Harry placed his rook. “I believe that's Check.”

“Wha--? How did--?” Blue eyes flew around the board again attempting figure out how he hadn't seen that coming. “Not for long.” Ron moved his white Knight to a space between Harry's black rook and his own King.

“That's what I had hoped you'd do.” Three moves later, “Checkmate.”

“What? No! How--?” Ron's gaze rose to Harry, determined. “Again. I'll beat you this time.”

Harry shrugged. “Sure.”

This time the game lasted longer. Ron took extra care with his moves, not letting Harry get anywhere close to putting his knight in check again. Forty-five minutes later, Harry had lost and Ron was back to smiling.

“You're good, Harry, I'll give you that. I don't think I've had so much trouble with an opponent before. At least, not in a long time.”

Ron put out his hand which Harry took. As the other boy took his set upstairs, Harry relaxed, feeling as if Ron was thawing towards him, just a little. Ginny's youngest brother was really trying to be civil now and Harry appreciated it immensely for it made tensions between himself, Ginny, Hermione and Ron ease. From her footstool beside him, Ginny spoke in an undertone.

“I think you impressed him, Harry. You gave him something else about you to respect.”

Half-jokingly, Harry said, “Oh, so we should have just played chess a long time ago, then. Saved us all some trouble.”

“I doubt it would have worked,” Hermione chimed in from the couch. “I don't think he would have been ready for it. He would have just seen it as a personal attack or something–another thing you were better at.”

“But I'm not. He ended up beating me when he really put effort into it.”

“Yes, but his jealousy would have taken over if you'd played him earlier in the year. He's actually grown up since Christmas and, yes, I know that wasn't so long ago.”

“He's trying. That's all that really matters.” After stifling a yawn, Harry stood. “I'm rather tired. I think I'm going to bed.”

He looked to Ginny and glanced at the full room. It felt as if he and Ginny were being watched, like they were just waiting to see what he'd do. He'd heard some of the students gossiping about the change in his and Ginny's 'status'. There wasn't anything he could do about it but that didn't mean he had to like it. So now here he stood, not wanting to put on a display but not wanting to hurt Ginny's feelings either. He needn't have worried. She took the decision from him by standing and giving him a hug, something she had always done.

“Good night, Harry.”

He pulled back, grateful, and tried to convey his relief with his next words. “Thank you.” Ginny smiled and gave him a playful wink that left him grinning. He turned to Hermione and Neville. “Good night.” Without waiting for a response, he made his way to the stairs and up to his room.

Hermione gave a little sigh. “Alright, I have to admit I'm a wee bit jealous.”

Ginny drug her gaze from the stairs and back to her friend, confused. “Why?”

“Because you and Harry are so sweet together. Because he makes an effort to show you just how much you mean to him so you're not left wondering.” The third year girl sighed and shrugged. “I don't know. I guess I'm just wondering if I'll ever have that.”

“Of course you will, Hermione,” Neville reassured her. “You're brilliant. How could you not?”

Hermione smiled faintly. “Thanks, Neville.”

“It might just take some time,” Ginny went on. “You're only in third year. There's plenty of time.” Ginny's eyes strayed toward the stairs again, her voice going soft. “I just got really lucky.”

“Well, obviously you were meant to be together. I just hope there's someone out there I'm meant to be with.”

Ginny hugged her friend. “There is. You'll find him. I'm sure of it.”

Neville thoughtfully studied the girl across from him a moment. “Hermione, is there someone you already fancy? Just a little?”

Ginny gasped when Hermione's cheeks pinkened. “There is! Hermione! Why didn't you tell me? You know you can tell me stuff.”

Hermione wrung her hands, embarrassed. “I know. It's just... It's stupid.”

“Hermione,” Neville gently admonished, “your feelings aren't stupid, no matter what they are or whom they're for. It's taken me awhile to understand that.”

Both girls looked to Neville but it was Hermione who spoke. “Is there someone you kind of fancy, Neville?”

Neville's previously nervous and bashful self returned with a vengeance as he backpedaled, stammering and blushing, and tried to play it off. Then he sighed, gathered his courage and looked up.

“Yes, I did have a little bit of a crush on someone once but it isn't going anywhere.”

“How do you know?”

Ginny nodded in agreement to Hermione's question. “Yeah, how do you know? Did you talk to her about it?”

“No, I never said anything but I know nothing will ever come of it because she's involved with someone already.” He gave a mildly irritated sound. “How did this become about me anyway?”

Refusing to be deterred, Hermione continued on. “Neville, just because she's seeing someone now doesn't mean she will be later. Relationships come and go at our age.” She gave a little snort and waved a hand at Ginny. “Present company excluded, of course.”

Ginny missed Neville's sigh as she was too busy playfully jabbing Hermione. The bushy-haired girl, however, didn't and her eyes rounded. That reaction Ginny didn't miss.

“What? What's wrong?”

“Nothing, Ginny,” Hermione quickly replied. “I just remembered there was something I was going to look up and never did.”

“Oh.” Ginny sounded as if she wasn't sure she believed the girl. “Okay.”

“So, anyway, Hermione,” Neville jumped in before anything else could be said. “Who's the bloke, then?”

“I won't say but he certainly hasn't shown any indication that he's realized I'm a girl nor has he done anything to make me feel important to him, like he values my friendship.”

“Hmm. So he's someone you're friends with? That means he's your age and if that's the case it's no wonder. He's thirteen!” Realizing how that sounded, she turned to Neville. “No offense, Neville. You're not like most boys your age.”

Neville shyly smiled. “It's okay, Ginny. You're half-right. I've heard some boys in the other Houses talking about girls. Seamus and Dean do, as well. I don't think I've heard Ron mention girls much, though.”

“No,” Hermione retorted with just a tiny bit of heat in her voice. “He'd rather talk about Quidditch or chess.”

“Hermione!” Ginny hissed, mindful of a few other students still milling around. “Is it...? You fancy...?”

“I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'm tired. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Hermione rushed off to the girls' staircase and disappeared. Ginny turned a shocked gaze to Neville. “My brother?” She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Then she winced. “Has he really not mentioned her at all?”

“Not in the way she wants, no. But then, I've never talked about girls with him, either, so...” He shrugged.

“That's too bad. Maybe I can convince her to not wait on him. It could be a long wait.”

“Probably a good idea,” Neville agreed, nodding. He yawned. “Well. I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Good night, Neville.”

Ginny remained sitting, going over the evening. It hadn't started too well with that confrontation with Seamus but Ron had separated himself from the Irish boy by inviting Harry to a game of chess. Her brother was making an effort and for that alone she felt like jumping up and down with glee. Ever so slowly, the rift between them was closing.

She thought again of what Hermione had revealed. Jealous? Really? She never would have thought the brainy third year girl could be jealous of her. Then again, if Harry hadn't shown any signs of interest in her, she might have gotten jealous of any girl he had shown interest in. Once again, Ginny thanked her lucky stars that she wasn't pining after someone who couldn't see what was right in front of him. Shuddering at the thought, she yawned and decided to get some sleep.

0000000


As Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Neville were eating breakfast Tuesday morning, along with all the other owls that flew in delivering mail, a rather large owl landed in front of Harry and stared with striking, orange-yellow eyes. Its tawny head and upperparts were streaked and mottled with black and a creamy white with the same pale creamy color covering the breast and belly. Black streaks mottled the upper breast bleeding to a more reddish-brown tone down its body. Small ear tufts crowned its head. The hooked, black beak glistened in the light looking viciously sharp. Harry found out just how sharp the beak was when he made no move to relieve the owl of its mail.

“Ow!” He sucked on his finger a moment. “Are you sure it's me you want? I don't know anyone who would be sending me mail.”

The owl continued to stare with its eerie eyes and ruffled its feathers as if it took exception to Harry's doubt. Ginny leaned over and caught a glimpse of the writing on a pair of envelopes.

“That looks like Bill's writing.” She gasped. “That must be Bill's new Pharoah Eagle Owl. He told me over Christmas he was thinking of getting a new owl and that he had his eye on one of these.”

“It's so big,” Hermione breathed. “About the same as a medium-sized Great Horned Owl, for sure. It's so pretty.”

She ran a finger gently along the side of the owl's head and grinned when it closed its eyes in obvious pleasure. Ginny stroked it gently on its breast, laughing a little when the owl puffed it out more.

“Figures,” Harry muttered, good-naturedly. He sighed. “Well, let me take the letters then you can have all the attention you want.”

Obligingly, the owl held out its leg. Harry took the letters, read the front of his–Harry, read only when alone–pocketed it and handed Ginny hers. Ginny took the note, read it, then slipped it into one of her pockets. Harry warily fed the owl a couple of bites of bacon then watched as it lifted off and disappeared through the open window curious as to why Bill would be writing to him and why he was only to read it when no on else was around.

“You didn't read your letter?” Hermione asked Harry, taking a bite of scrambled eggs.

“I'm not supposed to until I'm alone,” Harry answered her, shrugging and went back to his own breakfast..

“Oh. Well. What did yours say, Ginny? Anything new and exciting?”

“Nothing much, really.” Her voice held the slightest of tremors. “Just a little bit about a new tomb he's starting to work on, his owl, which we saw, and an explanation of sorts about Harry's letter.”

“Oh?” Harry studied her, then stammered, “Is everything okay? I mean, am I...? Well--”

“Relax, Harry,” she said, touching his arm and smiling. “He just told me not to ask about what was in your letter as it was something personal, a brother to brother type conversation.”

Harry's throat closed up with the sudden rush of emotion he was feeling. “Really?” His voice came out raspy. “He said that?”

Ginny nodded. “He did. A direct quote.”

Harry sat a moment and let that thought soak in. Ginny's oldest brother thought of him as another brother. The magnitude of it humbled him completely. While he wasn't sure it was possible, he vowed to do everything in his power to earn what he'd just been given, to prove he was actually worthy of that faith. Hermione's words brought him out of his musings.

“That's wonderful! I'm so glad things are working out.”

“Me, too,” he agreed softly.

The bell for the first class rang and the Great Hall became filled with the scraping, sliding, scurrying noises of students jumping up, grabbing their books and heading off to class. Ginny's entire morning was free while the other three only had the first period free. They allowed the main crush of students to dissipate before getting up themselves.

“Oh, by the way,” Harry said as they climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. “There's something I wanted to work with you on–a spell. You know, in case it's needed.”

He gave them a significant look which each understood. He checked along the fourth floor for a classroom not in use. As he came to the mirror, he paused, remembering the secret passage he and Ginny had found after having visited the kitchens, and grinned. He met her twinkling eyes and knew she remembered, too. He definitely wanted to experience that again–minus the near run-in with Snape, of course. Just beyond the mirror, the quartet found an empty room.

“This will work,” Harry decided.

Once the door was closed behind them, and they were all situated as comfortably as they could be, Harry explained.

“I've been giving it some thought and I don't think that attack on me was a fluke. I hope I'm wrong, naturally, but I don't think I am. I want you three prepared just in case. This way, you can seal me in somewhere until you can get help. The spell is the Locking Spell which locks or seals doors shut so they can't be opened manually.”

Harry pulled out his wand and turned toward the door. He made a motion that resembled a squared question mark and called, “Colloportus!”

There was a squelching sound and the door grew into the walls, the hinges and doorknob disappearing.

“Oh my goodness, Harry! That's brilliant!”

Harry grinned at Hermione's enthusiasm and removed the spell from the door so the others could practice. Again, the sealing sound was heard with a slight pop at the end as the door returned to its normal dimensions, boasting its hinges and doorknob.

“It's not an easy spell,” he warned them, “so don't get too discouraged if you can't get it to work, but it's not overly difficult either. We'll keep working on it.”

For the next hour, he had them take turns at the door, correcting wand movements as needed. By the end of that hour, none of the three were successful.

“That spell is harder than I thought it would be,” Hermione grumbled.

“It's because you kept rounding your wand movements as if drawing a regular question mark. They really need to be more block-like.”

“That just feels so unnatural. All the other movements are more flowing.”

“Not all, Ginny, but most are. Like I said, it'll take some work.”

“How long did it take you, Harry?” Neville asked.

“Long enough but the important thing is that you don't give up. Practice it on your own when you can. We'll get together again, maybe later tonight, and try again.”

The bell rang signalling the end of the first period. Hermione grabbed her rucksack and rushed out the door. Neville bid the others good-bye before following her. Harry turned to Ginny.

“You'll get it, Ginny. I know you will.”

“Hopefully not before you need it because, unfortunately, I agree with you. I don't think whoever it was is finished. They're obviously trying to expose you.”

“Try not to worry about that now. Just think of it as learning a new spell or, if you want, you can try to beat my record for learning it. I got it in about a month and a half.” A mischievous smile crept across his face. “In fact, I dare you to beat it.”

Her eyes lit up just as he knew they would. “Oh, do you? Well, I accept that challenge then. Now go away so I can practice some more.”

She tempered her demand with a quick kiss. Harry chuckled. “Yeah, gotta get to Charms before the tardy bell rings. See you at lunch.”

Luckily for Harry, the Charms classroom was just one floor below so he made it in time.

0000000000


All day Harry pondered what was in the letter he'd received from Bill. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what had been written that would require him to be alone in order to read it. His opportunity finally came at three o'clock while Ginny was still in Transfiguration. After putting away his Defense text, Harry plopped onto his bed and opened the letter.

Harry,

I'm sure you're wondering why I've written to you and especially why I've asked you to read this when you were alone. Well, once I got back here in Egypt I realized we never got to have that little conversation we were going to have. You remember? Christmas morning you asked me and Charlie how we could be so nice to you and how we could be okay with you and Ginny being together. Here's my answer to that, the one I had wanted to give you face to face. Sorry it has to be this way instead.

After the Chamber incident at the end of the last school year, Ginny was messed up badly and rightfully so. It was a terrifying ordeal. For quite some time she had nightmares in which she'd wake up screaming. She became depressed, stopped eating, cried about everything and nothing. She lost that spark of life that she used to have. Eventually the nightmares subsided and she gained weight again but, though she'd laugh or make a joke, there never seemed to be anything of substance to it.

Then she ran into you, quite literally from what I've heard. In her letters to Mum, and this is what Mum told me, she sounded alive again, as if she'd found a purpose, a reason for all she'd gone through. You apparently needed her as much as she needed to help you. With each successive letter to Mum, she became more and more like the Ginny that she had been. Then she brought you home for Christmas hols and I got to see how much she'd changed for the better–all because of you, Harry. You've healed each other. She'll never be the girl she was before but she's close and I like what I've seen. Just as you'll never be the person you were before and that's a good thing.

So, Harry, that's why I'm totally okay with you two dating. You're a perfect fit. I couldn't ask for anyone better. Anyway, little brother, if there's ever anything you want to talk about, feel free to send me a letter and I'll answer you as best I can. Oh, and by the way, don't be too surprised if Charlie writes to you, too. He mentioned that he might.

Bye for now.

Bill


Harry sat, stunned, on his bed. It seemed beyond possible that Ginny's brother could feel that way. Overwhelmed with the obvious sincerity in Bill's letter, Harry couldn't even think, only stare blankly at the words on the parchment. A minute or two later, his mind finally shook off the astonishment and processed it all. His eyes filled and he quickly swiped at the wetness, giving a sniffle. No one had ever written anything so nice to him before. Granted, he hadn't known anyone other than his uncle but that was beside the point. Not even Sirius had written him such a letter–or any letter for that matter.

Sniffling and giving his eyes another swipe, Harry gently refolded the parchment. Opening his trunk, he slipped the letter into a small pouch he'd been given a couple years ago for his birthday. It held a few precious things, things he didn't feel like sharing with others, things he wanted to keep close. There was a picture of himself with his parents, a picture of himself with Remus and two love letters, one from each of his parents to the other.

Taking out his Astronomy book and stuffing it into his rucksack, he added more parchment just in case and zipped the bag. According to his bedside clock, he had fifteen minutes to go. Throwing the bag onto his shoulder, Harry rushed out, hoping the staircases would actually help him out for once. They did, shifting to connect him directly to the corridor outside the door at the base of the Astronomy tower. His breathing hitched as he climbed the steep spiral stairs. He was definitely going to have to start doing something to improve his endurance.

Entering the actual classroom, he practically fell into his chair and caught his breath before pulling out his supplies. Wiping away the droplets of sweat from his brow, he flipped through the text. While he enjoyed the subject, he was dreading having to come back this way at midnight to do the practical part. Tuesdays were very long days. At least he didn't have Potions Wednesday mornings. That would have been just too cruel.

Not surprisingly, Hermione was the first of the horde of students to come walking in the door.

“Hey, Harry!”

“Hey, Hermione.”

The rest of the students filed into the classroom. Harry greeted Neville just as Professor Sinistra joined them and began class.

0000000000


When the final bell rang, Harry hurriedly crammed his things back into his rucksack and shouldered it, tossing a “See you later!” at Hermione and Neville. Impatient to get where he wanted to go, he grumbled under his voice about the tightly spiraling stairs forcing him to take his time or risk falling. Once out into the hallway, it was a quick trip down another flight of stairs and then down the corridor to reach Uncle Remus' office. A quick glance told him the office was empty so he continued, a salmon swimming against the tide, down to the classroom. A few stragglers remained so he had to wait until they cleared out before he could have the conversation he wanted. It took a few minutes but they finally left.

“Mr. Potter,” Remus addressed Harry in the polite manner of professor to student. “What may I do for you? Did you forget something?”

“Er,”

Harry glanced around in the corridor behind him. Remus took the hint and closed the door. Then he motioned Harry towards the front of the room.

“Uncle Remus, I want to get an owl.”

“An owl? Why do you want an owl?”

“Well, I got this really great letter this morning and I want to reply but I'm not sure I want to rely on the school's owls. I mean, I'm sure they're fine but... Please? This is really important.”

“I saw the owl this morning but I had assumed it was for Ginny. Who was it from?”

Harry glanced away trying to decide how much to disclose. “From Bill.”

“Ah.” Remus gave Harry a small smile. “I see. But Harry, how often would you use an owl? You wouldn't want it to get bored.”

“Ginny could use it whenever she wanted to write home. Please?”

He didn't know why it felt so important but the idea had sat in the back of his mind like a kernal of corn and heated all day until it finally popped into something quite a bit more significant than it had been.

“Aw, Moony, let the kid have an owl,” came an amused voice from the doorway.

Harry turned. “Sirius!” He walked over and gave his godfather a hug, a delighted smile lighting his face.

“Hey, kiddo,” Sirius greeted him, mussing Harry's already messy hair. “So you want an owl, huh?”

“I do.” Harry turned back to Remus. “I'll take care of it. I don't want to have to rely on the school's owls every time I need to order something.”

Remus sighed but the grin on his face told Harry his uncle wasn't upset. “Alright, Harry, you can have an owl.”

“Yes!” He ran over to Remus and hugged him. “Thank you!”

Like a kid who'd just been told he was getting the puppy he'd been asking about for years, Harry dashed back across the room, gave Sirius another hug, then dashed out the door, laughing.

“Congratulations, Moony. I think you just made his day.”

“I just don't know what he's really going to do with an owl. You and I are the only people he really knows well enough to write to.”

“You heard him,” Sirius said with a chuckle, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Ginny could use it. Face it, Moony, you and I have been relegated to the status of 'less important'.” He sobered a bit. “And really, isn't that how it ought to be?”

Remus nodded. “I suppose. It's just hard to let go, even just a little. Things are happening so fast. For Harry, growing up means facing Voldemort and...well, I'm scared.”

“Of course you are.” Sirius gripped Remus' shoulder. “He'll be prepared. He'll survive. Because he has us but more importantly because he has Ginny. That girl is no slouch in the magical department. Together, they're as strong as they possibly can be–and I don't just mean magically, either.”

Remus gathered the papers that were on his desk. “Yeah, I know.”

Sirius sighed. “Well. That conversation got heavy in a hurry. Tell you what, I'll get the owl.”

“Sirius, you got him the broom,” Remus drolly said.

The other man shrugged. “Making up for lost time.”

“You don't have to buy him stuff for that. Just spend some time with him.”

“I will.”

“Alright, fine.”

What neither man expected was the circumstances surrounding that time spent with Harry.





















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