Chapter 16: Christmas

“How’s he doing, Albus?”

“Physically, he’s just fine. Emotionally…your guess is as good as mine.”

“I still can’t believe he carried the man he killed out of that house before being able to Levitate him.”

“It was a remarkable act. Though, after hearing Lucius this morning through the bugs, it was a futile act. He knows that it was Harry who entered his home and stole the memory, killing Macnair in the process.”

“He knows? What’s his next plan of attack?”

“Nothing. Interestingly, he seemed almost happy that we are winning the war in a convincing manner. He gave us a score of three to one.”

“So he’s thinking of switching sides? What could possibly be in that memory vault that would have him even consider it?”

“I’ve put Remus to work trying to open it. Odds are we won’t get in without the password–and that is Lucius’ key to survival in this war.”

-0-0-0-

“Every one of us makes choices in this life. Some choices are good, and some are bad. Some lead to happiness and freedom, others to misery and death. Walden Macnair made bad choices in his life, and he paid for it with his life. But while we may feel the man deserved his end, let us remember he was still a human being.”

Albus Dumbledore nodded his head at the gravesite before turning away. He nodded at Sirius and Bill, and Harry knew they were going to give him some alone time with the deceased.

When they left the cemetery, Harry felt his heart clench up in fear. Initially, there was a brief panic at being left in a cemetery, alone with headstones and memories. Of course, this wasn’t the same cemetery that he had been bound in and exposed to the most horrific experience imaginable, but the memory reappeared none the less.

But as Harry managed to push that fear to the back of his mind, a duller fear replaced it. It was less external, and a more internal fear that slowly seized him. And that fear revolved around the man that Harry was becoming. Only his guilt surpassed his fear at this moment in time.

Harry finally spoke to the man he had killed, his voice soft and raw. “We checked to see if you had any family. An only child, father killed when you were a boy, mother died in the last war, and no meaningful relationships that we could find…” Harry took a deep breath and looked at the small tombstone, without any remarkable etching. Even the man’s name was unremarkable.

“You were a coward, Macnair,” Harry said angrily. He couldn’t help the fury that built inside of him. “You killed three people in the first war. You enjoyed it! You were responsible for the werewolf alliance with Voldemort–which led to my good friend Remus Lupin receiving the disease. I went through old papers in the library and found you were part of the attack on Dragonsby in the first war–hundreds left without their homes and family members. And when the war ended, what did you do? You lied–claimed innocence. You wouldn’t even stand by your convictions that landed you in Voldemort’s army in the first place. You coward!”

Harry let out a sob. “So how dare you make me feel such guilt over your death! You were an evil man, who decided to kill as a profession when you could no longer kill for sport. Why, in your grave, should you torment me for what happened?”

Harry felt himself collapse to the ground, and tears threatened to fall from his eyes. He had been able to move past killing Mark Rogers. He hadn’t even known it was real, after all. Rogers’ blood was more on Sirius’ and Dumbledore’s hands than his own. But Walden Macnair…

“I won’t give you the satisfaction, Macnair.” Harry stood up after a few minutes and brushed some snow off of his robes. “I know what I did was not a good thing. But we are at war–and this will not be the last time I kill in this war. I wish it hadn’t happened. But it did–and I will not give you, of all the worthless scum, the satisfaction of hindering me from doing what I must for those I love.”

With that, Harry turned on his heel and marched out of the cemetery. He was not healed, and doubted he could ever be the boy he was, but burying Macnair had given him some sense of closure and solace. He was still afraid of who he was becoming, and couldn’t help the remnants of guilt that flecked his soul, but he had made an important step in the healing process. He had faced the issue head on. Time would help, too. Maybe talking about the experience with Sirius or Ginny could help.

Harry stopped, wondering when it was that Ginny had become the friend he would share his deepest fears with. It had begun almost accidentally after his infiltration of the Portkey Office. He had just been staring into the fire when she’d come down the stairs. He wondered if she made it a habit of leaving her room in the middle of the night. In any event, he had been grateful then for her words of comfort, and he was grateful now, knowing that he could tell her about this, if he wanted to.

Harry Apparated away from the town in which Macnair would forever rest–after all, he had no one that truly cared where he lay. He arrived at the Three Broomsticks to find his previous companions waiting for him with a round of butterbeer. It was still before noon–it wouldn’t be appropriate to bring out the heavier drinks.

Harry sat at the table with the three men and took a large gulp from his glass. He felt Sirius clap him comfortingly on the shoulder, giving him a warm smile. Sirius looked tired, but happy. Harry had to wonder why.

“Look,” Harry began. “I know I keep finding ways to botch up these missions, but…”

“Nonsense, Harry,” Dumbledore interrupted. “Not only did you retrieve a seemingly valuable memory, but you made the Malfoys believe that was your original intent. They have no reason to believe that their home is bugged–and so far we have confirmation that the bedroom, kitchen, and sitting room bugs are all working wonderfully.”

Harry nodded sadly. “Good. I just wish I hadn’t…” He trailed off, not feeling any particular need to finish his thought.

“I wish you hadn’t either, Harry,” Sirius said, still squeezing his shoulder supportively. “But don’t think for one minute I wouldn’t have done the same thing in your position. That is, if I could have even beat Macnair in a fight…”

Harry smiled lightly. “Yeah, I suppose I should be grateful it was me; otherwise we’d be mourning your death, not Macnair’s.”

Sirius made to argue, but shrugged in defeat. “I never have had to fight much with my hands. I prefer to keep them intact for more…exciting activities.”

Bill let out a laugh while Dumbledore looked on in amusement. Harry didn’t want to encourage him, so he redirected the thought. “Like eating?” Harry asked with a pointed look at Sirius’ gut. “I love Sarah, Sirius. You know that. But she sure has turned the gaunt and thin prisoner into a pudgy old man.”

“Pudgy!” Sirius cried in outrage. “I’ll have you know she has me exercising more now than ever in my life,” he said with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

“Okay,” Harry said, waving his hand at Sirius in disgust. “That’s enough. What has you in such a good mood this morning, anyway?”

Sirius flashed a brilliant smile. “Well, I decided that life is too short not to tell the people I love how much they mean to me. So I asked Sarah to marry me!”

Congratulations were offered from around the table, and Harry found himself extremely happy for his godfather. All depressing thoughts that had occupied his mind for the last ten hours were gone for that moment. And in that moment, Harry came to understand a little deeper what war was and what it meant. War was about two groups of people willing to fight to the death for their beliefs. And Harry realized, as he looked at his beaming godfather, what he was willing to fight to the death for. He would spend the rest of his life fighting for a world where his friends and family could find love and happiness.

A warm feeling swept through his body at that epiphany. It was only bolstered by the news that he would be going to the Burrow for the remainder of the Christmas holidays. Grimmauld Place was suggested, but with the news of Sirius’ engagement, Harry felt it best not to spend too much time there.

So, the rest of Harry’s day was spent packing and enjoying his last few hours of the year at Hogwarts. He had a snowball fight with many of the remaining students at Hogwarts, played a simple prank on Mrs. Norris (which involved some frustratingly sticky cat litter), and even tested out the attraction feature on his glasses. Fred and George had joked about it, but he found their taste in girls was pretty close to his own. Among the seven remaining eligible witches at Hogwarts, every one of them registered a number between one and ten on his glasses that accurately reflected his attraction to them. He was relieved that no one under the age of fourteen registered a number on his glasses; otherwise he would have had to have a chat with Fred and George about having crossed a line.

The emotional reading was very basic, and really quite comical. When a girl smiled, the word, “Happy!” would appear in his glasses such that only he could see it. When a girl frowned, the glasses would read, “Run!” Harry decided to tell the twins to go back to the drawing board with that particular feature, and then he deactivated it.

Before he knew it, Harry was heading up to Sirius’ office to use the Floo. He was a little anxious about seeing Ginny for the first time since their little fight. He still wasn’t entirely confident what they were fighting about. But he figured he would start with an apology and see if things became a little clearer after that.

“The Burrow!” Harry shouted after he stepped into the fire. The world spun around him and Harry watched himself being thrown in space before emerging in his favorite house. His exit was not graceful, but fortunately Ron was there to break his fall.

“Ow!” Ron grunted, as he fell to the ground and landed on his backside. “Mate, when are you going to learn how to travel by Floo?!”

Harry got to his feet and helped Ron up. “Nice to see you, too, Ron. Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, yeah, not until tomorrow” Ron said grumpily, but he grinned back at his friend. “So how did the mission go?” Ron asked quietly, glancing around for any sight of his mother. Harry could hear some pots and pans being shifted around in the kitchen down the hall, and figured that’s where the matriarch was.

Harry shrugged, not wanting to get into any details with Ron. “We’ve got him bugged, so that was a success at least.”

“Brilliant!” Ron said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Come on into the kitchen. Mum’s nearly got dinner ready.”

“Mrs. Weasley!” Harry said excitedly as he walked into the kitchen to find the red-headed matron over the stove. “It’s so good to see you and smell your wonderful creations again!”

Mrs. Weasley turned from the stovetop and beamed at Harry. She opened her arms and ushered Harry into a tight hug. “Oh Harry, you flatter-bug, I’m so glad you could make it for the last half of the holidays. What Albus is thinking, keeping you away from family, I’ll never understand.”

“Just some extracurricular activities is all, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said with a grin at Ron.

Mrs. Weasley sized him up. “Enough of the Mrs. Weasley business, Harry. You will call me Molly from now on, and that’s final. You’re growing up fast; no longer the little boy whose clothes don’t fit him.” Mrs. Weasley smiled at him, almost sad at his loss of innocence. Harry wondered if she could sense he had just taken yet another grand step away from childhood.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her suggestion. He had wondered on a couple of occasions when the shift would happen. Whether it would be his own decision or hers. He had always thought he’d be much older, for some reason. But now that he thought about it, he felt too close to the woman to be calling her missus.

“Of course. Is there anything I can help with, Molly?” Harry asked with a smile.

Molly smiled back at him and squeezed his arms, which she had yet to relinquish. “Maybe in a minute you and Ron can set the table. Go put your things away first, though. You are staying for the break, right?”

Harry nodded before turning away, noticing Ron’s amused look at their interaction. He rolled his eyes before saying, “I’ll be back down in a minute.”

Harry walked toward the stairwell, feeling very much at home. He had to wonder if he would call Mr. Weasley by his first name as well, or if he needed to be invited to do so. It was an interesting situ–

Harry stopped in his tracks, having reached the first landing. Ginny’s door was open, and she sat at her desk, looking out the window. Her red hair fell carelessly over her shoulders and the chair’s back. In the middle of winter, it was already dark out, which made it easy to see her reflection in the glass. She just looked out, clearly not focusing on anything in particular. Harry realized he had been staring at her for quite some time now, and decided to be a little less creepy about his presence.

He knocked lightly on the door frame, and Ginny turned her head quickly. As she locked eyes with Harry, he immediately saw apprehension in her eyes. Perhaps she felt as odd about their fight as he had. But all of those thoughts vanished immediately as the number 10 appeared in Harry’s glasses, alerting him to the attractiveness of the girl in front of him.

In hindsight, it must have been a confusing sight for Ginny to watch him cringe, look away from her, pull out his wand, tap his glasses and look back at her nervously. But then, Harry didn’t give any thought to his initial reaction because he was so shocked that he had left the attraction indicator on his glasses, and that Fred and George apparently, and disgustingly, found their sister to be a perfect ten.

“I see you’ve got new glasses?” Ginny asked worriedly.

Harry gave a nervous laugh. “Yes, I do. Gift from your brothers, I’m afraid.”

Ginny nodded, as understanding flowed into her. “They look very good on you; though I admire your bravery wearing any gift of my brothers. Played a little prank on you, did they?”

Harry frowned and leaned against the door frame. “In a way. Anyway, it’s good to see you. How’s your holiday going?”

She looked back at him with a soft smile. Her eyes spoke the apologies as she merely said, “Well. Yours?”

He smiled back, likewise conveying any apology or forgiveness in his tone and expression. “Mine too.”

And just like that, Harry knew their argument was water under the bridge. They didn’t need to talk about it because they both understood it was meaningless. They just smiled at each other for a moment before Harry continued. “I’ll tell you about it sometime, but I’ve got to go settle in and then give Molly a hand in the kitchen.”

Ginny raised an amused eyebrow. “Molly, huh?”

Harry grinned back. “Isn’t it exciting? We’re moving forward in our relationship!”

“Terribly exciting,” Ginny deadpanned.

-0-0-0-

Ther e was a time, when Harry was a small boy, when he would hear Dudley’s excited footsteps and hollers announcing Christmas morning to the entire home at four in the morning. Harry, who was never the recipient of anything more than a box of Band-Aids (a clear sign that Petunia had not gotten him anything, but felt bad enough that she walked upstairs to fetch something cheap and inconsequential), never understood the excitement of Christmas morning.

At Hogwarts, when he actually began to receive gifts, things made a little more sense to him; but still, he would prefer a lie-in prior to any festivities.

This particular Christmas morning at the Burrow, Harry found that the aging Weasley family had finally caught up to him in principle. Harry awoke naturally at seven o’clock, a product of waking up much earlier than that for months now. But still, it was the first time he had slept in since the beginning of the summer. Ron lay snoozing in the bed next to him, and Harry decided to get ready for the day.

He grabbed a towel and headed down the stairs to the bathroom shared by all Weasley children. He should have figured that Ginny, like him, was accustomed to waking early, and that she could very well have already woken and begun getting ready for the day. But, his mind was slightly foggy from waking, and the thought didn’t occur to him until he reached for the door handle and the door swung open before he could grasp it.

Ginny made a rather adorable yelping sound as she swung the door open and found Harry just a few feet from her. “Harry! You scared me!”

Harry, for his part, was more stunned than frightened. Ginny had just a thin towel wrapped around herself. He felt his eyes run from her feet up her legs quickly, and found that the towel was quite short as well as thin, giving him a nice view of her slender and moist legs. Continuing his improper scan of her, he found her curves nicely highlighted by the towel, and the creamy, smooth skin of her shoulders that was normally covered with a shirt and robes. Her wet hair fell down, framing her beautiful face, which had turned slightly red under Harry’s scrutiny.

“Sorry,” Harry said lamely, clearing his throat unconsciously. “Didn’t expect anyone else to be awake yet.” He shook his head, trying to keep from his mind the image of him stepping into the bathroom with her and locking the door behind them.

“Yes,” Ginny said, nervously tilting her hair and running her hands through it as if to dry it more quickly. The action revealed a little more skin that had previously been hidden to Harry and he had to keep his eyes staring at her own to prevent gawking. “Well, your horrible workout schedule has had some unintended consequences of making me a morning person.”

Harry allowed his eyes to drift down her body again, and grinned slightly. “That’s not the only unintended consequence, Gin.” Now that he had gathered himself, he remembered that he often commented on her figure–why should it being covered only in a towel change that? “Looking good.”

Ginny appeared to be fighting a blush. She pressed forward, purposely brushing up against Harry with her body as she passed by him, which caused him a little more excitement than he supposed it should have. As she walked down the stairs, he thought she swayed her hips a little more exaggeratedly than usual. She turned her head slightly before walking into her room to find Harry staring after her. “Who says it was unintended?” She waited for no response as she walked right into her room and closed the door after her.

Harry stepped wordlessly into the bathroom, still hot and humid from her shower, and turned the nozzle to get the hot water running. He undressed and stepped into the shower, shaking his head as the water rolled down his face. He realized that his memory vault was back at Hogwarts, and Sirius hadn’t opened the Floo up to the Burrow yet. He was stuck with that image of Ginny for the remainder of the holiday.

“This is going to be a long couple of weeks,” Harry muttered into the pouring water, before turning it on cold for a minute.

As the day progressed, Harry figured it was a good thing he couldn’t run from his subconscious feelings of Ginny–after all, he had decided to reinsert his memories when he returned to Hogwarts anyway. This was just a stepping stone to work his way to that action.

Of course, it didn’t help getting hit across the head with his growing attraction to Ginny. Later that day, when the twins arrived for Christmas dinner, he confronted them about the features of his glasses.

“How are the new glasses working for you, Harry?” George asked him casually as they sat chatting in the sitting area.

“They worked wonderfully a couple days ago, but I’ve got some issues with your bonus features, George.”

“What’s the matter, are we not emotionally sensitive enough to tell you the true emotions of the fairer sex?” He grinned as he asked the question. Obviously he knew that particular feature was underdeveloped.

Harry laughed. “Yes, I found the emotional reading underwhelming, though I did appreciate the warning to run from a frowning Milicent Bulstrode.” Harry paused and leaned in, careful not to be heard by Ron and Ginny playing chess in the corner of the room. “But what I’m more concerned with is how you guys have Ginny scored as a perfect ten. Should I worry about you guys, or was that just a little joke?”

George’s smile fell slowly off of his face. “Hey Fred!” he hollered towards the kitchen, where Fred was stealing a snack before lunch. Harry grew a little worried as the shouting got the attention of Ron and Ginny.

“What’s up bro?” Fred said through the spinach puff in his mouth.

“Come join us,” George said slowly, and a little too darkly for Harry’s liking. Fred grew curious and sat next to his brother on the couch. “It would appear our dear business partner sees our dear sister as a ten.”

Fred’s eyebrows raised and he slowly turned his head toward Harry, who was feeling increasingly nervous. “But it was your magical programming that determines the rating,” he said quickly.

“Oh, no, no, no, my friend,” Fred said, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. He grasped it firmly, as if to prevent Harry from running. “The beauty of our creation,” he continued, tapping Harry’s glasses, “is that it reads your attraction to witches. Or wizard, depending on which way you swing.”

“Which is apparently toward our sister, Harry. Very favorably.”

Harry’s eyes widened as he realized his great blunder. “Look, mates…nothing has happened.”

“But that’s not the way you want things to be, is it?” George asked with narrowed eyes.

“Well, I mean…she’s a pretty girl, obviously,” Harry began nervously.

“A ten, apparently,” Fred nodded, still gripping Harry’s shoulder tightly.

“Right,” Harry squeaked out, nervously looking over at Ginny, who was peering curiously over at the seemingly conspiring boys on the couch. “Apparently–but that’s not the point. I mean, I would never hurt her or anything…she’s great. A great friend, that is. And a beautiful girl, obviously.”

“A ten, apparently,” George reiterated, his eyes dangerous.

There was a long moment of fear, in which Harry stopped breathing. But then, he remembered who he was talking to. Harry let out a long breath and started laughing lightly. “Alright, guys. You’ve had your fun.”

They both leaned back from Harry simultaneously, laughing at him good naturedly. “Oh, you should’ve seen your face, Harry,” Fred said.

Harry laughed at himself. “So it was a prank then?”

George stood up, and leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Of course not. But we know you wouldn’t hurt her–or you’d have us to deal with.” He pulled back and winked. Fred clapped him on the shoulder again, though in a much friendlier manner. He gave him a nod before heading back to the kitchen to resume his pre-lunch snack.

Harry felt his eyes drift back to Ginny, who occasionally glanced at him suspiciously. He smiled weakly at her, the number ten being the only thing he could think about.

Harry was spared from such overbearing thoughts as the other lunch guests arrived, distracting him from the redheaded beauty. Sirius and Sarah arrived, surprising everyone with the news of their engagement. Harry congratulated her and expressed his thanks to her for taming Sirius. Sirius took offence to that, claiming to be unbreakable. At one glare from Sarah, however, he apologized and ducked his head in submission.

But if their arrival was distracting to Harry, the next couple through the Floo was a bombshell of a diversion from thoughts of Ginny. Remus emerged from the fire, closely followed by Tonks. Initially, Harry was concerned about the tension that might be between the pair, and between himself and Remus, given the arguments that had been had.

But to Harry’s great astonishment and joy, Tonks immediately wrapped her arms around Remus, who smiled broadly and wrapped one of his own arms around her. His gaze fell on Harry after a moment and he nodded at him with a smile.

Harry swelled with joy–grateful that his own blowup at Remus had been forgiven, but much more grateful that the man had finally seen sense and accepted the person who would give him so much happiness.

Later, after dinner, Remus thanked him for the tough love, and explained that he could now cast the Dementor weapon, the Telum. He attributed it to opening his heart up to who he was and not hiding from himself anymore. As Harry heard this explanation, he had to wonder if he could never cast Expecto Telum successfully while pieces of his subconscious rested in a memory vault. It made sense, given that the weapon was conjured with one’s soul. If that soul was incomplete or ignored in some way, the Telum could not be created.

Bill and Fleur soon arrived. Harry had to act as though he hadn’t seen the man for a long time, despite spending quite a bit of time with him of late. It was rather important that Molly Weasley not know of Harry’s involvement in the war, lest she put him in a full Body-Bind and keep him locked in Ron’s room until he was in his thirties.

He congratulated Bill on his engagement as if he hadn’t done so weeks earlier when he’d been informed. Harry couldn’t help but notice Ginny’s disapproving glances at Fleur. He made a mental note to tease her about it later.

Lunch was a delightful affair, as friends and family gathered to share food, memories, and gifts together. Harry received a plethora of presents, most notably the newest broom in the Bolt line: a new Lighteningbolt. It came with a note from Dumbledore thanking him for saving the school from a Gargoyle, even at the expense of his great broom. Harry couldn’t wait to get outside and give the new broom a test run.

As the afternoon wore on, and people departed the Burrow, Harry decided to give his own gift to Ginny when he found her alone in her room. He was pleased when Ginny opened his gift and smiled brilliantly at him. “You got me new sheet music for the oculin!”

She pulled it out and began scanning the pages quickly. “I didn’t know how difficult the music was,” Harry explained. “Or what difficulty you could play. So I told the shop owner that you had played Requiem of the Pines and he pointed out similar music.”

Ginny looked shocked at Harry. “You…remembered what I played?”

Slightly confused at her question, Harry replied simply. “Well, it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard–of course I remembered.”

Ginny pulled Harry into a warm embrace–apparently even happier with his gift now than moments before. “Thank you, Harry,” she said softly into his ear. Harry hugged her tightly back, very much liking the feel of her in his arms. Harry would have considered this a satisfactory Christmas gift, had she not given one to him.

But she did. She pulled back from the hug, and Harry was surprised to see her eyes glistening slightly, though no tears fell. Harry was grateful for this–it was one of the many things he liked about Ginny. She might be a girl with great passion and emotion, but that didn’t mean the tears had to fall.

“Well, I was racking my brain to think of what to get you…”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry said, almost considering telling her that a hug sufficed, though he thought better of that.

“Shut up, Harry,” Ginny responded simply, before continuing on. “And, coincidentally, I remembered that I had promised to play you another song on the oculin. So, I wrote a song for you at Hogwarts, and I’ve been practicing.”

“You wrote a song?” Harry asked incredulously. He couldn’t believe she would do something so time consuming and personal for him. “I didn’t even know that was possible!”

“Well, someone’s got to write them, dummy,” Ginny said good-naturedly, with a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “So…do you want to hear it?”

“Absolutely!” Harry exclaimed, moving to sit on Ginny’s bed as she moved toward her chair. She pulled out her oculin from its case near her desk, tuning it quickly with her wand. She looked nervously at Harry, who just looked expectantly back at her.

“Look, I’m not the best composer, and I wasn’t sure what your taste is, and I–“

“Shut up, Ginny,” Harry said, repaying the favor and smiling warmly back at her. “I know it’s going to be fantastic.”

Ginny smiled, lifted the instrument to her chin, and began playing. To have called it ‘fantastic’ soon became an insult, the music was so beautiful. The music hummed in Harry’s very soul, reaching him in a way he never thought possible. Perhaps it was the girl playing, or the fact that she had written the song with him in mind, or maybe it really was the greatest piece ever written. But never before had any song resounded so completely with Harry before.

After a minute of watching Ginny play, Harry let his eyes drift closed, hoping to see images to go with the music, as oculins were meant to exude. Sure enough, Harry soon found himself seeing the beautiful landscape of Scotland, Hogwarts in the background. He was moving quickly through the hills, towards the school. There he found many friends standing outside the school, sitting by the lakeside. Ron, Hermione, Sirius, and Dumbledore all stood there, among many other Weasleys, students, and teachers.

One by one, they faded away, until just one remained. She turned around, the light of the sun behind her reflecting off the lake. The song came to a beautiful resolution just as the Ginny in Harry’s vision walked slowly towards him.

Harry opened his eyes to see Ginny looking nervously at him. “That was unbelievable, Ginny! How could you make such specific visions in my head with that song?”

She looked confusedly back at him. “Specific, what do you mean?”

“Putting Hogwarts, everybody, and you in there at the end,” Harry said. Clearly she had designed that, right?

Ginny looked suddenly bashful. “I can’t put a specific image to the music, Harry. I just create a tone and try to tell a story. Your mind is the one that supplies the images, hopefully matching my theme.”

“And what was your theme?” Harry wondered.

Ginny tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looked away from Harry. “I titled the song, ‘Home.’”

-0-0-0-

“Hey Ron?” Harry asked tentatively.

Ron slowly opened his eyes, and muttered tiredly, “hmm?”

“Sorry,” Harry said quickly. Ron looked over at him to see him shaking his head at the ceiling. His room was dark, but Ron could still make out Harry’s facial expression: anxious. “You were almost asleep, forget it.”

“I’m awake now, mate. What’s up?” Ron’s curiosity was piqued now. What was Harry nervous about?

He took a deep breath. “I just wanted to ask you…what you thought…of Abby?”

Harry’s hesitation before asking about Abby made Ron wonder if Harry really was wondering about her.

“Cute girl,” Ron said with a shrug. “Nice, smart. I always saw you with someone a little more…fun, but I like her.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, still thinking carefully over his words. “I like her, too. What do you mean more fun?”

Ron furrowed his brow. For Harry to continue this line of questioning, maybe he really did want to talk about Abby. Or perhaps girls in general. For some reason this made Ron nervous, too.

“Abby’s a little more quiet, I guess,” Ron said hesitantly. “I always thought you’d be the quiet one in the relationship.”

“So someone more like...” Harry stopped talking, though it seemed he had a name on the tip of his tongue. Ron had to question why he was afraid of saying the name.

Then the answer came.

“Hermione?” Harry said after a moment of silence.

This made Ron sit up on his arm and glare over at Harry. He couldn’t help it, but he felt his face tighten in anger. Harry liked Hermione? And was trying to find out how Ron felt about it.

Harry slowly smiled and let out a light laugh. “Nevermind, Ron. Have a good night.”

Ron did no such thing.

-0-0-0-

“Albus, I think it is time. The election is in just a few weeks, and we’ve gotten as far as we can with narrowing down the moles in the Ministry.”

Albus looked pensive, gazing at each member of the Order he had chosen for this quick meeting. “Tonks?”

She nodded. “Kingsley’s right. Coop and I have been at a standstill for nearly a month now. All the moles we can find were found in the first two months. We have everything in place, and we’re all prepared.”

Albus nodded. “Alright. Then we move forward with the cleanse. I want you all to report to me immediately upon carrying out your responsibilities. Let me know that each assignment has been accomplished. If we do one thing wrong here, Voldemort will see it coming and have plenty of time to pull back his moles. We’d like to not only prevent the Ministry takeover, but detain several Death Eaters at the same time.”

Bill and Arthur Weasley, Sirius, Sarah, Kingsley, Lupin, Tonks, and Cooper each nodded their heads. “Very well. Move out.”

All of the members of the Order moved towards the fireplace to Floo away except for Albus and Sarah. They each took deep breaths–knowing at this point their job was to wait.

Albus reflected on the nature of the Second Dark War, as the Prophet had begun to call it. It was an entirely different game than the previous war. Fifteen years earlier, Voldemort had already placed an irremovable man in the government, making the Order’s job that much more difficult. Sure, Albus had had to deal with a Ministry who refused to cooperate last year, and even tried to slow him down, but thanks to Harry Potter showing up at the Ministry that fateful night last summer, everything had shifted.

Albus immediately convinced Fudge to change his ways. Do as he said, or be blamed for Voldemort’s unhindered second rise. Thanks to that swift action, Albus was able to slow Voldemort’s progress in gathering followers of various species. Due to laws swiftly passed, the werewolves and giants were largely split in their loyalties. In addition, the Daily Prophet, which had been in Fudge’s pocket for years, was now on Albus’ side as well.

But this did not mark the greatest difference between the wars. Of that, Albus was sure. The difference was one Harry Potter. After all, it was Harry who had gone to the Ministry last summer and did what Albus was unable to do for the better part of a year–lure out Voldemort. It was Harry who broke into the Ministry a few months later to out Mark Rogers as a mole, and unveil a massive takeover that Voldemort had been planning for over a year. It was Harry who, with Sirius, tricked one of Voldemort’s spies inside of Hogwarts to spread false news to Voldemort that resulted in nearly two dozen Death Eater captures, and a saved town. It was Harry who found Lucius Malfoy’s correspondence with Draco, giving them insight into some of Voldemort’s intentions and Lucius’ wavering allegiance. And finally, it was Harry who bugged Malfoy’s home, giving them new information daily. The information had not proven valuable yet, but it was only a matter of time before an attack was prevented because of the bugs.

Albus let a smile come to his face. Harry was winning this war–and he was doing so by out-Slytherining the heir of Slytherin himself.

Albus knew the tides would shift eventually–they always did in a war. But he was immeasurably more confident in this war’s conclusion than the previous one. That both would be ended by Harry Potter was only fitting.

But today, Albus hoped to gain yet another advantage in the war. According to his spy and the bugs, Voldemort had no reason to suspect that the Order had been tracking their moles inside the Ministry. That meant the DMLE and Aurors could bring them down quickly and without a fight. But it would require speed and precision. Nearly a week had passed since Christmas, and the employees had returned to work, unsuspecting of a massive raid of internal investigation.

A voice sounded in Albus’ ear. It belonged to Henry Cooper. “Only three of the suspected traitors are away from work today. I have three teams together with warrants to take care of them when it’s time.”

“Very well,” Albus spoke through his earpiece. Albus smiled, being reinstated as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot had many perks; procuring warrants without public awareness was just one of those perks. Henry Cooper had proven to be a tremendous addition to the Order. Albus had been a little worried that Nymphadora’s rebuff of his affections might send him away, but the man had shown his true convictions when he became more engaged in the war afterwards.

The fireplace turned green and Arthur emerged into Grimmauld Place. “Everything is ready, Albus. We have a crew that has shut down Floo travel out of the Ministry, ‘for maintenance purposes’. The only way out now is the phone booth and Apparation zone, which my sons have covered.”

“Tonks and the DMLE are in position?”

Arthur nodded. “As many as we could trust. We are a little low on the numbers, but Bill grabbed his brothers and Moody for backup. And Sirius and Remus are there, of course.”

Albus nodded, before tapping his earpiece twice, preparing to send a message to all that had one of Fred and George’s brilliant communication devices. Yet another product of Harry’s involvement in the war. “All units, verify your position.”

Albus waited as he received eight affirmative replies and then gave the go-ahead. “Move out.”

“Sarah,” Albus said kindly to the woman sitting at the table with him. She looked up at him from the trance she had been in.

“Yes, Albus?”

“Would you be so kind to fetch me your article once more? I would like to cross check it with the reports as they come in.”

She smiled and nodded before standing to retrieve her article, ready to be published. Her role was pivotal for two reasons–it got the public behind the internal investigations that were soon to happen, and even if it was not evidence, it would help in detaining some Death Eaters until hard evidence was found.

She returned shortly and handed over a piece of parchment.

Massive Investigations Begin at the Ministry

By Sarah Sellers

Early on this morning, a Ministry-wide investigation began in an effort to eliminate any of You-Know-Who’s followers from generating substantial influence in the Ministry’s affairs. The investigation has been ongoing for months in a secret conglomeration between the Aurors and various members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

While the specific names are either presently unknown or being withheld from the public, it is known that at least 18 members of the Ministry have been arrested, with 13 more being detained for questioning and investigation.

“All three moles not at the ministry have been detained,” came Cooper’s voice in Albus’ ear. Albus breathed a sigh of relief. That meant the rest were in the Ministry, with the only exit being through a group of Weasleys–not a likely escape route. Albus hoped that Voldemort’s followers would not catch on until it was too late, lest a fight break out in the Ministry and harm innocent employees.

Among the departments of the Ministry that had been infiltrated is the aforementioned DMLE in the Improper Use of Magic Office, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and the Department of Magical Transportation (DMT).

Sirius was the next to report in. “Remus, Moody, and I have gutted the Creatures Department. I’m not supposed to tell you that Moony used excessive force on two of the eight guys.”

Kingsley’s voice responded. “Get out of there quick. I’m sending in a team to make the arrests.”

Albus leaned back in his chair for a moment, awaiting an update. Not everyone in the DMLE could be trusted to be informed beforehand what was happened. That meant that a number of unauthorized Order members had to disable the traitors before authorized personnel went in to make the legal arrests.

“We’re clear,” came Remus’ voice. Albus smiled and turned back to the article.

It is to be noted that the DMT has already had an incident involving an undercover Death Eater, when Mark Rogers of the Portkey Office was killed trying to hide his involvement in You-Know-Who’s recruitment of the Dementors this past summer.

As if on cue, Tonk’s voice rang through Albus earpiece. “Transportation has been taken care of. All five moles accounted for.”

Incidentally, one of the few departments that remain untouched in the investigation is the Office of the Minister. It is no news that Minister Fudge failed the people last year in his denial of You-Know-Who’s return, but his apparent refusal to employ anyone of questionable integrity has to make Magical Britain breathe a sigh of relief.

“The DMLE is prepared for gutting,” Kingsley announced. “Be ready for all hell to break loose, Weasleys.”

“Always,” came Bill’s reply. “I grew up with the twins, after all.”

Albus smiled despite his unease. The last part of the raid was about to be set forth in the dirtiest of the departments at the Ministry. There were more moles there than any other department, and on top of that, it was the department that trained their employees how to fight. Kingsley had a difficult task ahead of him. He needed to choose many to assist him not because he trusted them, but because he didn’t have evidence that indicated they were working for Voldemort. The Order would act as backup, should anyone try to run, but the arrests had to be made by the DMLE.

Albus returned to the article, waiting for the final news from Kingsley.

In a bit of surprising irony, Minister-nominee Marion Etman was also brought into questioning after the incident. The DMLE refused to comment beyond using the words “suspicious contacts.” One can only guess at this point whether Etman is a follower of You-Know-Who, or merely connected to many of his followers. In any case, it is a great relief this news has broken now, instead of weeks after the election.

Albus took a deep breath, and stood up, unable to read any longer while he awaited news. He paced back and forth, and couldn’t help but worry if his earpiece had broken. He glanced at Arthur and Sarah, who eyed him nervously. He wasn’t doing a good job of hiding his emotions from the Detector at present, and his unease was likely spreading to her. He tried to give a reassuring smile, but she wasn’t fooled.

But then the voice came through. “It was a success,” Kingsley said. “We have three in need of medical attention, and the Weasleys had to take down one coward, but we got all eleven!”

Albus smiled as Arthur let out a shout of joy and slumped back into his chair, exhaling his relief. Tonks spoke again, adding the cherry on top. “I’ve just detained Etman into a holding cell for questioning.”

Albus turned back to the last paragraph of Sarah’s article with a smile on his face.

It was a historic day for the Ministry. Over the next few weeks, more details will surface. But for now, let us celebrate the nameless heroes who risked their lives to bring justice and integrity back to the Ministry in less than a half hour.

“Only one edit is needed from what I see,” Albus told Sarah with a smile. “It took less than fifteen minutes.”

She smiled at him before standing from the table. “I’ll give a revised copy to my editor right away. I’m sure it will be the front page of a special edition of the Daily Prophet in less than a few hours.”

Albus nodded, and sent her on her way. Turning to Arthur, he asked. “Can we get those Floo ports opened? I have an appointment with the Minister.”

Nearly a half hour later Albus strode through the Ministry. The place was in a state of confusion and shock. Memos flew wildly around the building, workers ran from department to department trying to understand the massive ongoing investigation. It was apparent that the battle had extended to the Floo network, where the traitors likely put up one last fight after realizing they had no means of escape. A few employees spotted Albus as he walked towards the minister’s office, and new rumors and whisperings began.

Albus paid them no heed. He merely walked straight to Fudge’s office, a slight smile on his face. When he arrived, the Minister’s office was in chaos. Albus noticed Percy Weasley running around, trying to accomplish a dozen tasks, but never beginning any one of them. The new Senior Undersecretary, hand chosen by Albus himself, was speaking through the Floo to a member of the French Ministry of Magic, trying to answer questions she didn’t know the answers to.

Cornelius Fudge spotted Albus as he rushed from desk to desk , barking orders to the employees of his office. “I believe we have a meeting scheduled, Cornelius,” Albus said nonchalantly. It was important that he retain an image of superiority and confidence around Fudge. He had already shown how out of hand he can get.

“Albus!” Cornelius said exasperatedly. “Can’t you see this is not the best time!”

“I chose this time very specifically,” Albus said quietly so only the minister could hear.

Fudge’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “You…”

“Yes,” Albus replied. “Now let us step into your office.”

Cornelius turned on his foot and opened the door for Albus. Albus stepped in calmly and sat down at the man’s desk. Cornelius shut the door behind him, and all the noise immediately disappeared.

“Now listen here, Albus. When you told me all those months ago that you would give me a chance at redemption if I just did as you said, I did not expect for you to turn my Ministry upside down.” The short man was furious. Albus knew that it had been a hectic morning for the man, so he merely raised his eyebrows instead of shouting at the man.

“I have done everything you’ve asked. And I appreciate you not calling for my immediate dismissal, Albus, but this has gone too far. It’s chaos out there.”

Albus merely pulled out the article that Sarah wrote and handed it to the fuming man. Slowly, the man’s tension left his face, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Now, Cornelius,” Albus spoke as Fudge read the last few lines. “We’ve just saved your legacy and ensured your reelection all in the course of a few minutes,” Albus said calmly. “I think that is deserving of a little trust and respect. Are you going to give me a moment, or just shout at me for the duration of our meeting?”

“Of course, Albus. My apologies.” The man looked very small now, his face so apologetic it made Albus sick.

“I came here this morning to thank you for being so cooperative. While having a puppeteer is not new to you, I hope you enjoy my hand more than Lucius Malfoy’s?”

Fudge looked to object, but Albus sent a glare at him that had him nodding his head slowly. “And I assure you, when this war is over, I will vacate the position and leave it open to whoever has the most dirt or money. But for now, I need you to know that as easily as I have saved your legacy, so can I destroy it.”

Fudge looked to be fighting an internal struggle. Whether it was the insults or the ultimatum that had Fudge in a fit, Albus didn’t know. But he didn’t much care, either. He had no patience for the man any longer.

Albus pulled several more pieces of parchment. “You are going to be a very popular man for the next few weeks, Cornelius. I need you to pass these laws in that time, take advantage of your popularity.”

He handed them over and Fudge skimmed through them. “Dementor eviction, Muggleborn rights, increased protection in Muggle communities, werewolf housing and sanctuary… Albus, I’ll be putting a flashing target on my back if I pass these.”

“First of all, Voldemort is well aware who is pulling the strings here. Second, you now have a choice before you. You can hide behind your desk and do nothing–which will result in a drawn out war and a ruined legacy. Or, you can do what’s right for the first time in a long time, and fight for what your people need.”

Albus stood before Fudge could argue anything. He turned on his foot and strode out the door, very pleased with the day.

-0-0-0-

“No! Don’t make that move, you’ll die!”

“Shut it, Ginny,” Ron said, but a smile was on his face. Victory was imminent and he knew it.

Harry let out a long sigh. He made the move anyway, figuring he deserved to die if he couldn’t see why it would be his demise.

Ron moved his bishop forward, putting Harry in checkmate. “Oh…there it is…”

“Yeah,” Ginny said dryly, shaking her head in disapproval. “You need some more practice.”

“Well, I never get any better playing against Ron,” Harry lamented. “Whenever I ask for pointers, he just tells me to make moves that benefit him.”

“I’m a winner, Harry,” Ron said as he stood from the table. “Don’t be a hater.”

“Yeah, you’re just lucky I don’t mind losing, or I would have stopped playing in our first year.”

“Help him out, Ginny. He needs it,” Ron said as he made his way towards the stairs. “I’m tired from winning three matches in a row, so I’ll be heading to bed.”

“Prat,” Ginny said with a smile as she slid into Ron’s seat and began resetting the chess board. “Don’t worry, Harry, you’ll beat him one day.”

“I have beaten him once,” Harry objected, feigning offence. “I just need to have Hermione around to distract him.” Harry smiled after his best friend as he went up the stairs. Harry had tried to ask him the other night how he would feel if Harry were to date his sister, but he chickened out at the last second. Instead, Ron was likely under the impression that he had a thing for Hermione.

Maybe it will make him act faster on his own feelings, Harry thought to himself before Ginny brought him back to the present.

Ginny laughed her beautiful laugh, and Harry smiled at the sound. “I bet Ron wanted to get to bed so tomorrow will come sooner. After all, it’s been nearly three weeks since he last saw her.”

“I can’t believe the break has gone so quickly,” Harry said. Though inwardly, it had been a long two weeks for him as he had to deal with his conflicting emotions over the girl currently motioning for him to move his first pawn. “Strange that just a couple weeks ago I was in Malfoy Manor.”

Ginny looked up from the board expectantly. He hadn’t really mentioned his mission to her, but it was clear she had been dying to know. Harry was grateful she hadn’t pressed the issue. “How did it go?” she asked, now that he had brought it up.

Harry moved his next piece as he thought about the question. “Well, we’ve got the manor bugged, thanks to your genius brothers,” Harry started. “Though there is one room that had too much magical interference to pick up any conversation.” Sirius had shared this particular information with Harry when he went for a training session at Grimmauld Place a few days earlier. The untapped room was the action room. Whether the bug had been destroyed or there was too much interference, they didn’t know. All Harry knew is that he had gone into the cellar for nothing. It had caused a whole new string of emotions to fill and conflict Harry. He supposed that was why he was talking with Ginny about it now; he needed to share his troubles with someone.

“Well, at least it worked throughout most of the house,” Ginny offered helpfully, moving her knight forward, putting Harry’ bishop in a precarious position.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed softly. “It’s just…” He trailed off, and moved a piece without much thought.

Whether Ginny noticed his horrible chess move or his subdued tone, Harry didn’t know, but she pointedly ignored the game when she looked to Harry and asked, “just what?”

Harry sighed. He knew he wanted to talk about this–and he knew Ginny wouldn’t judge him, but it was still difficult for him to start speaking. His gaze moved from his bishop to his hand as he felt Ginny’s hand wrap around his. He looked up to her beautiful face, nodding supportively at him.

Harry took a deep breath before confessing, “It just makes his death so meaningless.” Harry knew this would make no sense to Ginny, but to her credit, she let Harry continue without asking questions. “If I just hadn’t gone back to that room to put the bug in, I wouldn’t have…run into Macnair.”

Ginny squeezed his hand. “You killed him?” Ginny asked, no judgment in her voice. Just seeking confirmation.

Harry nodded slowly. “And now I find out it was pointless. I could have avoided him completely.”

There was silence for a few moments, as Ginny waited to see if Harry wanted to speak more. He didn’t.

“Harry, if you use hindsight to judge your past, you’re going to go crazy. Looking back on my experience with the diary, I can’t believe I was so stupid. It is unfathomable to me. If I forget that I was a young and naïve girl at the time, dealing with insecurities and a little depression, I would fall right back into those insecurities and depression. You acted with the information that you had–you did what you had to do at the time.”

“But it ended up being a mistake!” Harry said adamantly.

“So learn from it,” Ginny said confidently. “But don’t dwell on it, or you’ll go insane.”

Harry took another deep breath. “I’m afraid that if I don’t dwell on it, killing will become easier to do,” he said, finally voicing his true feelings. “Ginny…this is the second man I’ve killed in just a few months! Who–or what–am I becoming?”

“A warrior,” she replied honestly. “You train and learn to fight every day, you go on missions in wartime to slow the enemy’s progress, and when the situation demands it, you act as a warrior.”

“But now I find out the situation didn’t demand it,” Harry said. But he knew he was just fighting her now because he knew she was right.

Ginny just raised her eyebrows at him, clearly knowing that he agreed with her but was just being difficult. “I just want you to know, Harry, that I’m grateful for what you are doing. I can’t imagine the toll this war is taking on you, but I need you to know that.”

Harry smiled lightly at her. “You would do the same thing if dealt the cards I have,” he said.

“Maybe,” Ginny said doubtfully. “You can always talk to me about this; you know that?”

Harry nodded. He couldn’t possibly express his gratitude for that. Everything Ginny had told him was not news to him, but to be able to hear it from someone else was so much more meaningful. He just wished he could offer the same support.

“And if you ever have anything you need to talk about, I’m here for you, too.” Harry said honestly. “We kind of ignored our little fight, which I’m fine with…but if you wanted to talk about Dean with me, I’d be more than willing to be here for you.”

Ginny blushed slightly at the mention of her struggling relationship. “No…I don’t want to bother you with such trivial problems.”

Harry shook his head. “It’s not trivial if it’s causing you trouble, Gin.”

She sighed. “We’re just having a bit of a struggle right now. It’s been escalating for some time. I don’t remember the last time we were able to just talk and be ourselves without an argument rising.”

“So, why are you still fighting for him?” Harry asked, unable to understand.

Ginny frowned. She didn’t seem to have a good answer, and seemed a little upset over the question. “Because he’s my boyfriend. I…care for him.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “You don’t sound convinced,” he challenged.

“Of course I am,” she responded quickly, now growing defensive.

Harry knew he should probably admit defeat and drop it, but something urged him on. “It just doesn’t seem like what a relationship should be.”

Ginny’s eyebrows furrowed in anger. “And who are you to talk?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked, taking slight offence. He was surprised how quickly their warm conversation had turned cold.

“Does Abby know about the prophecy? How about the fact that you are currently fighting in this war? Does she even know the names of the Dursleys?”

Harry didn’t answer initially. He just stared back at her. But she demanded an answer. “I...that stuff doesn’t matter. She likes me for me.” Harry said it quietly, knowing he was wrong.

“She likes you for you?” Ginny repeated incredulously. “She doesn’t know who you are, Harry!”

Harry was hurt, and felt slightly guilty about this revelation. He knew he hadn’t opened up to Abby, but to hear someone else say it made it real. And now he had to wonder exactly why he was with her–and the answer did not shine a good light on his character. Rather than addressing this issue, he lashed out at Ginny for bringing it to his attention. “At least she and I aren’t at each other’s throat every ten seconds!”

“At least I’m not using Dean to escape real life!” Ginny responded hotly, and Harry felt his stomach sink with guilt over her implications.

Ginny stood up immediately and turned to leave, her face red with anger. Harry nearly called out to her to stop; whether to clear the air or yell at her more, he wasn’t sure. But as he watched her leave and looked back at the chess game in front of him, Harry realized it wasn’t with Ginny whom he was truly angry. He was upset with her, certainly, and felt betrayed by her housing this negative opinion of him for all these month’s without talking about it. But ultimately, he was angry with himself, not Ginny. He had an unfortunate conversation to have with Abby.