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SIYE Time:13:26 on 29th March 2024
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Aphrodite's Destiny: Love Changes Everything
By Mistress_Lrigtar

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Luna Lovegood, Severus Snape
Genres: Drama, Fluff, General, Romance
Warnings: Death, Intimate Sexual Situations, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 106
Summary: When nearly ten-year old Ginny Weasley brews a love potion with her best friend, Luna Lovegood, the results are nothing like what she expects them to be. She soon finds that not only has her life been irrevocably changed, but that of the boy she has always dreamed of, Harry Potter. They have unknowingly entered into the strongest and rarest of all bonds, the Spiritual Bond, and unlike other bonds, it is unbreakable. Follow both Ginny and Harry on their journey as they navigate the road of friendship and true love.
Hitcount: Story Total: 43618; Chapter Total: 4149
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
First of all, thank you to everyone who thought this story was worthy of a Silver Trinket and voted. What a pleasant surprise!

This is another lengthy chapter. I can't promise they all will be as long, but so far it seems to be the way this story is trending. I hope you will enjoy. Severus makes an appearance. I'll be curious to read what you all think of him.


As always, I must thank my amazing betas. I am fortunate to have three great betas - Arnel, canon and grammar extraordinaire, Brennus, my fabulous Brit-Picker, and seekers_destiny, who has an incredible eye for plot-holes and characterization. Many thanks to you all!!




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Ginny sat at her desk in her room, gazing out the window and idly twisting a braided bracelet she wore on her right wrist. It had been a birthday present, sent to her by Luna since at the time of her birthday they were still not allowed to see each other. Luna had explained in the accompanying letter that on a recent visit to South America, of all places, her father had discovered the delightful tradition of trading these bracelets and making wishes upon them. The wearer then wore the bracelet until it became worn and fell off, and at that time the wish would come true.

On her birthday, Ginny’s primary wish had been that her mother take to Harry sooner rather than later, but she had already made that wish when she had blown out the candles on her cake. Not to mention, that was something Ginny wanted immediately and it might take years for the thick bracelet Luna had given her to wear thin. So, when her father had tied the colourful bracelet around her wrist, Ginny had hastily thought of a different wish; that one day, if things worked out, she and Harry would actually fall in love and have a proper wedding ceremony.

She had blushed scarlet as the wish had crossed her mind and Harry had glanced over at her with the question evident in his eyes. It had been obvious he didn’t understand her sudden embarrassment, and for that, Ginny had been grateful. She had to wonder if eventually they would not be able to keep anything from each other and if that was part of the uniqueness of their bond. She was certain that was an aspect of the bond they would have to work towards, and it would take practice. Right now, the only thing they were really focusing on was being able to be separated from each other, and so far, that was going well. Professor Snape’s potion was working splendidly, and Harry, at this moment, was downstairs in the sitting room reading his History of Magic book because her mother had insisted he learn about his actual roots. In the month they had been bonded and with the aid of Professor Snape's potion, their empathic and telepathic connections had strengthened. Even though it was going well, and they no longer suffered from some of the debilitating side effects being separated had caused at first, it was still easier to gauge how he was actually feeling when she clasped his hand. However, her mother hated it, and they tried their best not to do it in her presence unless they absolutely had to.

Sighing, Ginny looked down at the maths worksheet her mother had set her to finish before lunch. At the rate she was going, she would not complete it and her mother would make her stay inside and finish it instead of going outside after lunch. Ginny looked forward to the times after lunch because it was one of the only chances she and Harry had to be relatively alone, and the only time they could have a serious discussion about anything they may not want her mother to overhear.

What her mother didn’t understand was, that despite the fact that Professor Snape’s potion allowed Ginny and Harry to roam much more freely about the house and gardens, there were still times when the best way to gain control and understanding of each other’s emotions was by actual physical contact.

Like now for instance, Ginny had a vague feeling of consternation she was fairly certain was not her own. Her maths sheet wasn’t that difficult, beside which, she hadn’t really started in on it yet, so this feeling must be emanating from Harry. However, he was too far away and she couldn’t grasp it fully to understand the cause. If she had been able to touch him, it would have become instantly clear and then she would know exactly what to do to ease the feeling.

Ginny wondered if perhaps her mother was reprimanding him, but straining to listen, she couldn’t hear any voices drifting up the stairs from the sitting room. Looking back down at her work, she tried to concentrate on it, but the feeling was not abating and she felt a tug within her, drawing her to Harry. Shoving the sheet aside, Ginny rose hurriedly, and walked down the stairs and into the sitting room, where she found him sitting on the settee staring blankly down at the book opened in his lap.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” she asked in concern, wondering at the instincts within her that had kicked in over his distress.

Harry’s brow furrowed. “I just read about my mum and dad,” he said, indicating the book.

“Oh,” Ginny blurted.

“I guess I didn’t think it would be in a history book already,” he continued. “Kind of makes it final.”

“Oh, Harry,” Ginny sighed, she hadn’t thought about it possibly being in his book either. Of course, her mother had told her there had been myriad articles in the paper about it at the time of the murders and Harry’s defeat of the Dark Lord, so it stood to reason that it would be permanently documented. She closed the distance between them and sat down next to him on the settee, then placed her hand lightly on his arm. “I’m sorry,” she murmured dumbly, wishing she could think of something better to say.

“It’s stupid, but I’ve been thinking since we saw them in the meadow, maybe they could come back, like we did,” he stated.

“It’s not stupid,” Ginny insisted. “I think it’s perfectly normal.”

“But we weren’t really there, were we?” Harry muttered.

“Yes, we were!” Ginny stated firmly. “You touched your mother, Harry. Don’t you remember?”

Harry nodded, “What I mean is only our spirits were there. Our bodies were still in Diagon Alley, weren’t they?”

“Yes,” Ginny said with a sigh. “I suppose you are right, but look on the bright side, Harry. You know your mum and dad are in the meadow, and she said we could come back one day when we are stronger.”

“What does that mean, though?” Harry asked, his frustration leaking through their bond.

“I don’t know,” Ginny honestly answered. “Maybe she meant when we are older. Maybe one of the things we could work on is trying to visit the meadow in our dreams again.”

Harry brightened immediately at this suggestion, and a warm feeling trickled through Ginny, causing her to smile. It always pleased her when she could easily curtail the episodes of gloom Harry sometimes fell into. Not that it wasn't understandable after all both of them had been through in the past month. At least Ginny still had the relative comfort of a home she had grown up in and her parents, even if her mother was making life somewhat difficult at the moment. Harry, on the other hand, had come from an abusive home, although they had yet to really discuss his relatives, and he had been thrust into a strange world he knew nothing about.

"Harry, are you feeling better about being here?" Ginny tentatively asked, keeping her hand on his arm in order to ensure she was reading his response correctly.

Harry glanced over at her and nodded. "Yes."

"Just yes?" Ginny pressed, sensing his hesitation.

"You already know it's loads better than being at the Dursleys. Your parents have been great, and it's been nice having someone to talk to and help me figure things out," Harry answered, his cheeks colouring.

"You mean me?" Ginny asked.

"No, your mum, Ginny," Harry quipped, grinning crookedly.

"She's been awful, I know," Ginny groaned.

"No," Harry said. "She's how I imagine most mothers should be." The wistful tone of his voice wasn't lost on Ginny, and she groaned inwardly. She had started this conversation in the hopes of taking his mind off his mother, and now they were right back where they had started.

"Sorry," Harry added quickly. "I'm not going to dwell on it, I promise."

"You have every right to," Ginny replied.

"I really don't want to," Harry said, closing the book. "How's your maths coming?"

Ginny pulled a face, knowing, as always, he was effectively changing the subject from having to discuss his relatives or her mother. "I haven't started yet," she answered, deciding to humour him, and Harry smirked.

"I guess I'll be enjoying the fresh air while you're stuck inside finishing your work," he commented.

"Not if I can help it!" Ginny declared, accepting his challenge. "I'll be right back!"

Jumping up from the settee, Ginny ran up the stairs and grabbed her maths sheet off her desk, and brought it back to the sitting room. Plopping back down next to Harry, she took the History of Magic book from him and smoothed out her worksheet on top of it.

"Now you can help me if I become stuck," she announced, nibbling on the end of her quill as she studied the first problem. Harry happily helped her since they both knew he had only been teasing about going outside without her.

A few days later, Ginny and Harry were sitting at the kitchen table eating porridge for breakfast when an unfamiliar grey screech owl began tapping on the kitchen window. Mrs Weasley bustled out of the pantry where she had been organizing the shelves to open the window and allow the owl to hop down to the dish drainer. It thrust its leg out towards her and Mrs Weasley removed a thick, creamy parchment envelope tied with a small piece of silk string. She turned the envelope over in her hands and Harry recognized the Gringotts seal on the back from the official letter Adoyrak had sent him and Ginny, requesting they visit him to sign their marriage contract.

Mrs Weasley broke the seal and lifted the flap, pulling out a short letter and an accompanying piece of parchment that looked to be a ledger of some kind. She scanned the letter quickly, her brow furrowing in consternation and then looked over the ledger before tearing her eyes away from the documents to look sternly over at Harry.

"What is this?" she asked, flapping the parchment towards him and causing him to spill the porridge he had been about to spoon into his mouth down his chin instead. Ginny giggled next to him as he hastily wiped his chin with his napkin and stared up at Mrs Weasley in confusion.

"I don't know," he stated. "A letter from Gringotts?"

"I know that!" Molly exclaimed in exasperation. "Why is Adoyrak sending me a statement informing me that two hundred galleons have been deposited into our vault to cover boarding expenses for you for the months of August and September with an additional one hundred to be deposited every month until you are of age?"

Harry gulped, realizing Professor Dumbledore had done as Harry had requested and set up the stipend for the Weasleys to cover the cost of his care. Professor Dumbledore had warned him the Weasleys may not like it, but he wasn't sure how to gauge Mrs Weasley's reaction. Was she angry with him because he had sent her the money or because she didn't think it was enough to cover his expenses? He had tried not to eat more than he needed, but her food was incredibly delicious and she seemed to be constantly heaping second and third helpings onto his plate even when he hadn't asked for them. Not to mention the clothes she had provided for him. So, perhaps he wasn't giving them enough, after all.

"Er," Harry began, only to be cut off by Mrs Weasley as she rampaged around the kitchen in a tirade that made him slink down in his seat.

"Of all the things!" she blustered, slapping the letter onto the table. "The nerve of that meddling goblin! What were you thinking? We did not take you in for your... How could you think... unacceptable!"

"But," Harry started. "You've done so much and you've had no..."

"Do not tell me we had no choice, Harry!" Mrs Weasley commanded before rounding on Ginny. "Did you know about this?"

"Not exactly," Ginny admitted, jabbing Harry in the ribs with her elbow and he knew he was in serious trouble with the both of them. "I knew Harry felt uncomfortable, and thought he was imposing on us, but I tried to reassure him." She looked over at Harry, her brown eyes blazing. "I thought you were feeling better about things!"

"I was," Harry stated. "I am, honestly. I just thought..."

"I know what you thought, Harry," Mrs Weasley interrupted again as she ripped the letter and ledger to shreds. "I'm writing that goblin immediately and telling him he can take that money back this instant and stop all future payments!"

"But!" Harry exclaimed.

"No buts, Harry!" Mrs Weasley fumed. "I will not hear it!"

Already knowing from his short stay that when Mrs Weasley became agitated as she currently was there was no reasoning with her, Harry silently nodded and lowered his head back to his porridge, stirring it with his spoon, but his appetite had gone.

“Eat your porridge, Harry,” Mrs Weasley admonished, adding another serving on top of what he had only half eaten. “You need to eat more.”

Harry sometimes wondered if Mrs Weasley could read his mind like Ginny could, and Ginny snickered beside him.

“No, Harry,” she said. “Mum just sees a skinny boy who needs fattening up.” She shoved the sugar bowl and milk pitcher towards him. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I know,” Harry admitted, having already sensed her annoyance that he hadn’t told her about his arrangements with Professor Dumbledore. “Are you annoyed because I didn’t tell you or because you couldn’t sense it?”

“Both,” Ginny said. “I could tell that morning we visited Adoyrak that you had talked to Professor Dumbledore about something you thought was important.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?” Harry asked, adding two spoonfuls of sugar to his porridge and then pouring half the milk pitcher on top.

“Because,” Ginny said. “I didn’t want to seem nosy.”

Harry’s mouth crooked up in a half smile and he glanced over at her. “I wouldn’t have thought that.”

“I know,” Ginny said, smiling back at him before frowning again. "But the other day, you seemed all right, aside from, you know." She left the remainder of her thought unspoken, knowing Harry did not like to discuss his parents in front of her mother. It made Mrs Weasley uncomfortable knowing Harry’s parents had been in the meadow, even if she still didn’t quite believe Ginny’s and Harry’s tale about the meadow.

Instead, the two children finished eating their breakfast in companionable silence. They were both fairly adept at knowing what the other one was thinking, but it wasn't always exact. Fragmented words and images of what Ginny was thinking would come to him and he could usually piece them together into a coherent thought. They were supposed to be working on strengthening their connection and guessing what the other one was thinking was a fun game to play when they were particularly bored.

After breakfast, Ginny's mother sent them outside to play while she cleaned up the kitchen and wrote to Adoyrak. Harry was glad for the change in the schedule, especially since Mrs Weasley didn't seem particularly happy with him at the moment. He wondered if she ever would. Things had quieted down considerably since Ginny's brothers had left for school and Mrs Weasley had been very accommodating, making up his new room and ensuring that his needs were met. Mr Weasley had been even more engaging, taking time every night to ask how Harry was faring before grilling him on anything Muggle, which he found extremely amusing. Ginny's father's enthusiasm for Muggles had to be the polar opposite of Uncle Vernon's disdain for anything that had to do with Harry. He now realized his uncle's abhorrence of him had more to do with what he had feared he would become than Harry himself. At any rate, Harry truly enjoyed talking with Mr Weasley and attempting to explain how a microwave or a television worked. He wasn't quite certain how accurate his descriptions were, but Mr Weasley didn't seem to mind.

Settling under the oak tree in their usual spot, Ginny leaned back against the tree as he did the same.

“So,” she said, pulling her knees up to her chest and linking her arms around her legs.

Harry grimaced and glanced over at her. “So, er, how upset do you imagine your mum really is?”

“Not as much as you think,” Ginny replied.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Harry confessed. “When I first arrived here it was all so strange and your mum was so upset.”

“I know, Harry,” Ginny soothed. “I understand.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Harry said. “Quite honestly, after seeing the vault and finding the photo album, I forgot about it until that owl arrived this morning.”

“It was really exciting, wasn’t it?” Ginny asked. “Seeing the vault, I mean. I had never ridden that deeply into Gringotts before. I can’t wait to ride in that rail car again!”

“I suppose we will get to next year when we withdraw money to buy our school things,” Harry remarked, plucking at the yellowing blades of grass between his shoes. Ginny’s sudden turn in emotion from excitement to discomfort caused him to look over at her. She chewed her bottom lip nervously and crumbled a dry, brown leaf she had picked up from the ground.

“Ginny, what’s wrong?” Harry asked in concern.

“That’s not what I meant, Harry,” Ginny said, clearly flustered. “I just want to ride in the car again. I didn’t mean I wanted to, oh...” She trailed off, her cheeks bright red.

“Oh,” Harry said, as well, catching on to the reason behind her trepidation. She was having the same reaction her mother had just had regarding the amount of wealth Harry suddenly had at his fingertips. He and Ginny had never discussed the trip to the vault past who some of the people in the photo album may be. “Ginny, Adoyrak sent the letter to the both of us regarding viewing the vault and signing all the documents. Your name is on the bank statements. Everything in the vault is as much yours as it is mine.”

“But it isn’t right, Harry,” Ginny protested. “I shouldn’t suddenly be able to claim the inheritance your parents left for you.”

“It’s not about that,” Harry protested in return. “Before Hagrid came and told me I was a wizard, I didn’t have anything. I’m just like you, Ginny, completely overwhelmed by the idea of suddenly having any money at all. It’s nice knowing I have someone to share that with. We can add ‘how to handle loads of money‘ to our list of things we are supposed to be working on. I think it’s best not to even dwell on it and just accept it as a fact that you now have part of that fortune, too.”

Ginny couldn’t help but snicker. “Are you serious?”

“Completely,” Harry insisted, relieved to feel Ginny’s apprehension abating.

“It’s not like mum and dad are going to let us go crazy anyway,” Ginny commented. “Not that I would.”

“Me neither,” Harry agreed. “I wouldn’t even know what to buy.”

“Good thing we have school lists to follow,” Ginny said. “I suppose you won’t have much to purchase next year, Harry. The school lists don’t tend to change too much. That’s why mum and dad have been able to hand things down through the years. They gave Ron Bill’s old school robes and cauldron, and some of Charlie’s first year books.”

“I wonder what Hogwarts is like,” Harry mused.

“Well,” Ginny said, leaning back to gaze up at the leafy branches, “At the moment, I imagine they are all stuck inside stuffy classrooms, while we are still able to sit outside and enjoy the weather.” She grinned over at Harry before returning her gaze skyward.

“The leaves are turning already,” she commented. “This is one of my favourite times of the year. Well, this and Christmas. What’s yours, Harry?”

Harry was startled by the question. No one had ever bothered to ask him before what his favourite time of the year was and he really didn’t have an answer. Christmas had never been a memorable occasion for him and he couldn’t say that autumn was much better. Autumn always meant going back to school and having to face Dudley and his gang on a daily basis.

Harry glanced up at the branches, as Ginny was, and noted the green leaves that had already begun to fade to yellow. A cool breeze blew across the garden and the branches rustled. It was peaceful and quiet and he couldn’t remember a time where he had ever been able to sit and enjoy a moment such as this. Ginny was his first real friend, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the bond. When they had met in the meadow for the first time in their dreams she had accepted him for who he was before they even knew they were bonded. Nothing had changed between them since the fateful day they had met in person, except that now Harry had the opportunity to spend every day with his best friend. Things had grown easy between them over the two months he had been at The Burrow, and she was the only person he had ever felt comfortable enough opening up to and being completely honest with.

Harry looked over to find Ginny gazing at him expectantly, and he decided on his answer.

“Autumn,” he said. “Autumn is definitely my most favourite time of year.”

hghghghg ghghghgh


September passed into October, with the leaves on the oak tree in the garden turning a lovely yellow before beginning to drift down to cluster at the base of the tree. Severus arrived at The Burrow the first Saturday in October to find Harry and Ginny laughing gaily as they jumped in a huge pile of leaves that sat in the middle of the garden. Arthur stood nearby and would wave his wand after the leaves had scattered and collect them into another pile for the children to jump in. Upon spotting Severus standing at the gate, he waved towards him with a smile of greeting that the Potions Master thinly returned.

It was strange to be thrust into the middle of such a familial setting and he felt ill at ease. It had never been his forte to be sociable at any level and the Weasleys were nothing if not a sociable lot. Fred and George, especially, spent an inordinate amount of time talking, to the point that he had had to resort to separating them in Potions class and deducting twenty house points from Gryffindor. That had thus far curtailed most of the chatter in his class, but he was certain it would not last for long.

Arthur Weasley liked to chat as much as his sons and Severus hoped he could retreat from The Burrow in time for the evening meal at Hogwarts.

“Hello, Severus,” Arthur greeted him as he approached. “No Albus today?”

Severus shook his head. “Unfortunately, he was detained at school. An urgent matter involving one of our less gifted students.” The student in question had been Neville Longbottom, who had had the misfortune of finding himself in the forbidden third floor corridor facing Hagrid’s rabid three-headed monster of a dog. The boy had been fortunate he had escaped relatively unscathed, aside from several deep gashes across his back from where the dog had attempted to catch what he saw as a tasty morsel.

Severus had lectured Albus on the foolishness of keeping such a threat within the castle walls in such close proximity to the students, but Albus had ignored his warnings. Now he had no one to blame but himself for having to face the boy’s irate grandmother. Severus had gladly bowed out of Albus’ office as she arrived, the stern look on her face brooking no argument that the headmaster was, indeed, in for it. Severus didn’t understand the need to guard the wretched Philosopher’s stone in the first place. It seemed yet another thing that had disaster written all over it, and he would much rather simply destroy the stone and be done with it. He understood that Albus was hoping to catch the Dark Lord, if he was indeed attempting to return to a living body, but again, Severus felt this was another dangerous scheme to undertake within the school.

However, Albus seemed to think he had things well in hand, and Severus was, after all, simply the Potions Master who had delivered a crucial bit of information to the headmaster so many years ago.

“I hope everything is all right,” Arthur was saying, a look of concern on his face.

“Nothing Madam Pomfrey cannot fix,” Severus assured, and glanced over to where Ginny and Harry were extricating themselves from the pile of leaves. They brushed errant leaves from their hair and clothes, and still grinning, approached the two older wizards.

“Hello, Professor Snape,” Ginny said breathlessly.

“Hello, sir,” Harry said, as well, looking up at him expectantly.

“Good afternoon,” Severus evenly said. He had not visited the children since administering the potion to them and he had been able to put them from his mind, somewhat. It was far easier not to think about them, but he could not put off the inevitable. Today, he would begin the torturous lessons of Occlumency with them. He planned to begin with the girl, as he thought she would be far easier to deal with. He was not certain he wanted to delve into Harry’s mind at all. He feared what he would find there. Severus had been sure to remove all the memories of Lily and James just in case the boy was able to gain even a glimpse into his mind.

“I am here to begin your training in guarding your mind from the invasion of others,” Severus said, gazing impassively down at the two of them. “It will take extreme patience and willpower to harness the power to control what others see.”

“Wizards can read each others minds?” Harry asked, his eyes wide in horror at the thought.

“Only some, Harry,” Arthur assured. “Most cannot, but many Dark wizards in the past, including You-Know-Who have honed the skill in an attempt to gain crucial information.”

“Can you read minds, Professor Snape?” Harry asked, looking at Severus speculatively.

“To some extent, yes,” Severus replied. “But my skill lies in keeping my secrets close so those attempting to probe my mind cannot learn the truth.”

“And you’ll teach us that,” Ginny said matter-of-factly.

“I will try,” Severus said.

“But, you’re not a Dark wizard,” Harry stated, studying Severus in a way that made him distinctly uncomfortable.

“No!” Severus bristled at the audacity of the boy to question him. His query reminded him of the way James would accuse him of dealing in the Dark Arts. Severus had been the best in his class at Defence Against the Dark Arts, something that had irked James Potter incessantly.

“Harry has the right to the question, Severus,” Arthur said quietly. “You, of all people, know we can never be too careful.”

“I’m sorry, Professor Snape,” Harry said somewhat contritely. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Severus mouth thinned into a grim line, as now the boy sounded like Lily apologizing for questioning a professor over a particular method of casting a spell or brewing a potion. It was going to be a long day.

“I will begin with Ginny,” he declared, and looked over at Arthur. “Is there somewhere private we can work?”

“My shed, perhaps,” Arthur answered and pointed towards a nearby ramshackle out building.

He led Severus and the children over to it and opening the creaking wooden door, ushered them all inside. Once Severus stepped inside, he was shocked to see the amount of clutter hidden within the thin walls of the building. The workbench was lined with all manner of Muggle contraptions from dismantled cameras to televisions and radios. Shoved in the far corner was a washing machine and dryer and hanging from the ceiling were electrical cords and several different types of lights. Severus spied a hulking shape beneath a tarp at the back of the shed he deduced was some type of Muggle automobile.

Arthur cheeks were tinged pink when Severus glanced his way. “I have a bit of a collection,” he offered meekly.

Severus nodded mutely, refraining from saying anything derogatory and offending the man, and instead waited silently. Arthur stood a moment longer behind Ginny and Harry who were shifting nervously on their feet.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he finally said, leaving the door ajar and retreating to the garden.

Severus looked down at Ginny and Harry who, in turn, looked up at him. Indicating the two stools that sat by the workbench, Severus waited for them to perch upon them before standing before them and beginning to lecture.

“Occlumency is the magical art of defending your mind,” he began simply. “Only the most skilled witch or wizard is able to keep all knowledge they do not want revealed to themselves. However, since neither of you has even begun your magical training we will begin simply. I want you to clear your minds of all thought or emotion.”

“How are we supposed to do that?” Ginny asked.

“Don’t think,” Severus archly replied. “I will begin with you, Ginny, when you are ready.”

“How do we not think?” Ginny pressed, and Harry nodded beside her.

“Empty your minds,” Severus wearily said, realizing this was going to be more difficult than he thought. “Think of the infinite vastness of space. It is dark and empty save for distant stars.”

“So, think of space,” Harry said.

“Whatever it takes for you to keep information you wish me not to see,” Severus responded sharply, “For I can tell you, if you do not clear your minds, I will see your deepest, darkest secrets. The Dark Lord was even more adept at this practice than I am, and he did not hesitate to invade another’s privacy.”

“But, he’s dead,” Harry said, “So, who else would try to read our minds?”

“Anyone who remotely has the ability and served the Dark Lord,” Severus ground out. “He may be gone, but there are still those who await his return and they would not hesitate to harm he who saw to the Dark Lord’s demise.” He looked pointedly at Harry and refrained from sneering in response to the brief look of shock that crossed the boy’s face. Mentally slapping himself, Severus reminded himself for what felt like the thousandth time that Harry was not James.

He turned back to Ginny to find the girl glaring at him. Her eyes burned with an intensity he found disconcerting in a girl of her tender age. “I am merely telling you the truth. Close your eyes and clear your mind,” Severus commanded her, thus ending any further conversation, “Tell me when you are ready. Observe, Harry.”

Ginny flicked her eyes nervously over to Harry, who nodded encouragingly. Clenching her hands into fists, she slowly closed her eyes, but her brow furrowed above her closed eyelids.

“Try to relax,” Severus suggested. “Imagine you are floating in space.”

He waited, watching as Ginny’s features smoothed out and her hands opened to rest lightly on her knees.

“Legilimens,” he whispered and entered her mind, and met blackness.

“Mummy!” she cried, sitting up in her bed. “I’m scared!”

Molly appeared in the doorway, holding a candle and moved quickly to the girl’s side.

“I dreamed You-Know-Who killed you!” the tiny girl sobbed.

“He can’t hurt you or me, darling,” Molly soothed, setting the candle on the bedside table and pulling the girl into her lap. Brushing her damp hair with her fingers, Molly cooed softly in Ginny’s ear. “He’s gone.”

Blackness swirled over the couple sitting on the bed and Severus felt the pressure of Ginny pushing back against his intrusion, even as another memory of her sitting beneath an oak tree surrounded by stuffed animals began to form. He immediately withdrew before becoming part of a little girl’s imaginary tea party.


“Very good,” Severus commented, somewhat surprised at the girl’s successful attempt, “You managed to regain some control and purge the memory before I could delve deeper.”

“It took all my concentration,” Ginny remarked, rubbing her head.

“That is to be expected,” Severus responded. “Now, Harry it is your turn.”

Severus turned to Harry, his cold, black eyes boring into the boy’s bright green ones that were looking back at him nervously. Even though Severus had removed most of his painful memories of Lily, the boy’s eyes were dredging up the faintest memories he had long forgotten; from the days he would watch her and her sister, even before he had known for certain she was a witch. Her happy laughter rang through his mind as her sister chased her around the swings at the park, and her beautiful green eyes shone brightly. When he had finally plucked up the courage to approach, she had not shunned him as so many others had. She had accepted him for who he was, a poor boy with mismatched clothes and a cruel mother, angry with her lot in life and taking it out on her only son.

“Prepare yourself,” Severus ground out, forcing the hated memories back to the dark corners of his mind.

“Legilimens!” he spat, knowing the boy couldn’t possibly have had time to clear his mind.

“Wait!” Ginny protested beside him, but he was already immersed in the middle of the boy’s tumultuous thoughts.

“Freak!” Petunia Evans shrieked as her face leered in front of Severus, and for a moment, he thought they were witnessing one of his memories. Then he realized she looked much older and was dragging him forcibly by the arm down a hall he had never seen to shove him into a small cupboard. “That will teach you to try and shirk your chores and sleep beneath the hedges!”

She slammed the door, plunging the cupboard into darkness. Severus felt the normal pressure as Harry attempted to push the memory away from his view. He was hopeful when bright flashes of light burst in front of his eyes that Harry would be successful in pushing Severus from his mind, but instead of returning to his own mind, the light swirled around him and he suddenly found himself in the middle of an unfamiliar meadow.

Severus saw Ginny standing in the middle and she turned, her face breaking out in a broad smile when she saw him and she began running towards him.

“No!” Harry cried in Severus’ ear as Ginny enveloped him in the first hug he had ever received. Happiness and warmth flooded through him and tears sprang to his eyes.

Severus began withdrawing of his own accord, but paused when the doe appeared at the edge of the meadow to silently observe the two children. He stared, transfixed at the beautiful creature and he knew it was she. Her green eyes flashed in the bright sun as she looked directly through him.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Lily’s voice soothed.


Severus tore his mind from Harry’s, and fell back to the floor staring up into the boy’s wild eyes. Ginny was already off her stool, rubbing a pale Harry’s shoulder with one hand while the other tightly gripped his hand.

“Why didn’t you block your mind?” Severus spat, struggling to his knees.

“I tried!” Harry exclaimed.

“Not hard enough!” Severus exclaimed, inexplicably angry with Harry even though he had done nearly as well as Ginny had at blocking him.

“You didn’t even give him time to prepare!” Ginny accused, looking scathingly down at Severus.

“Your enemies will not give you time to prepare!” Severus barked, rising to his full height to glare down at the two children. “They will enter your mind and pick your memories like ripe pieces of fruit.”

He rifled through his pockets, producing two small vials of Invigorating Draught. He handed them to the children and collected himself.

“I want you both to practice clearing your minds everyday by meditating,” he ordered, retrieving the vials from them after they had finished drinking the contents and some colour had returned to their cheeks.

“How?” Harry asked.

“Find a private, quiet place where you can reflect on your memories,” Severus replied, looking at Ginny instead of Harry to answer the question. “Then you must attempt to submerge them beneath insignificant memories you would not mind an experienced Legilimens viewing. Eventually, you should be able to alter memories so a reader will see only what you want them to see. I do not expect you to be able to do so for some time, but that is our ultimate goal.

“Now, I must return to Hogwarts. I will see you next month.” He swept past them, leaving them to collect themselves and stepped outside the shed to breath in the cool, autumn air. Petunia’s livid face loomed in his mind’s eye. She hadn’t changed, and he clearly recognized the look of derision she had given Harry in his memory. Severus had seen that look countless times, and he had little doubt the boy had spent the last ten years of his life seeing it on a daily basis. Lily would be so displeased to know the fate her son had been subjected to because of Severus’ treachery.

“Everything go all right, Severus?” Arthur asked, approaching from where he had been sitting on the back stoop.

“They need practice,” Severus curtly replied.

“Occlumency is a difficult magical art,” Arthur replied, “and they are only children.”

“And why Albus wants them to begin learning now,” Severus reminded the man. “If they are diligent in their practice, they will be adept by the time they are of age.”

Arthur shook his head. “I still am not sure I understand Albus’ reasoning.”

“He is not always forthcoming with clear answers to our questions, but he is usually correct with his precautions,” Severus remarked.

“True,” Arthur agreed. “Molly wanted me to ask you to stay for supper. She’s making steak and kidney pie, I think.”

“You are generous, but I must head back to Hogwarts,” Severus responded.

“Oh yes, the injured student,” Arthur remembered. “Not from your house, I hope, Severus.”

“None of my students would be so dense as to disregard the headmaster’s warnings at the beginning of the school term,” Severus sniffed. “It was a Gryffindor.”

Arthur smiled at this. “Looking for a bit of adventure, I suspect.”

Severus declined from answering as he thought Longbottom was the least likely candidate to purposefully look for anything that may lead to adventure.

“I will see you next month, Arthur,” Severus said. “Please send my regards to Molly.”

Without waiting for a response, he walked briskly down the garden path, opening the gate and quickly Apparating away from the happy hovel to appear in the lane just outside the gates that led to Hogwarts. Waving his wand at the locked gates, they swung easily open for him, allowing him entrance to the grounds.

He walked up the steep path, embroiled in his thoughts of what he may find the next time he entered Harry’s mind. The boy could not possibly have any memories of Lily, and yet Severus had clearly seen the doe and heard her voice. He wasn’t sure Harry was even aware of the doe’s presence in that memory, as the boy’s thoughts had been centred on the little girl standing in the middle of the meadow. Had it been a dream?

Severus longed for Lily to visit him in his dreams, but all he ever saw was the nightmarish image of her lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling of the nursery in Godric’s Hallow. No matter how much he tried to change the events in his dreams, she always wound up lying dead in his arms.

Perhaps he should tell Albus he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t certain he could face Harry again. It was too painful. Albus could teach the boy and Ginny Occlumency as well as Severus, if not better. Why should he be subjected to the torment it would cause him? He already knew the answer. No doubt, Albus thought he was doing him a favour, and this would give him some sort of closure. Severus knew he could never fully have closure because he had never had the courage to tell Lily how he really felt. The words would remain unspoken in his heart forever and he would hold them and the treasured memories he had of her close and take them to his grave.

He gazed up at the castle, many of the windows and the flaming torches by the entrance doors casting a warm glow over the grounds. He passed by Hagrid’s hut, smoke curling from the chimney and the strong odour of something vile simmering on his fire tingeing the air. The groundskeeper had mentioned something about boiling bubotuber pus to make a paste for the Care of Magical Creatures professor, Silvanus Kettleburn. Apparently, the fire crabs had developed a bad case of acne.

He was continuing past Hagrid’s hovel when he thought he spied someone lurking just beyond the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Squinting, he saw a flash of purple that looked distinctly like Quirinus' ridiculous turban. Why the man would be skulking about the forest was beyond Severus, since as far as he had been able to deduce from his encounters with the man, the Defence professor was afraid of his own shadow.

Switching direction, he headed towards the forest, stepping into the cover of its darkness and scanning the immediate area.

“Come out, Quirinus,” he called.

A rustling of leaves behind a nearby tree alerted Severus and he turned in time to see Quirinus shuffle out. The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor looked nervously about him, his left eye twitching as he twisted his hands in front of him.

Severus narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What are you doing slinking about the Forbidden Forest?”

“I-I was l-looking for D-doxies,” Quirinus stuttered.

“Really?” Severus inquired. “For what purpose?”

“F-for my f-first year class,” the quivering man answered.

“But you have only been teaching them the theory,” Severus replied. “Surely you aren’t going to allow your students an opportunity to actually cast a spell in class.”

“N-no, of c-course n-not!” Quirinus cried.

Severus snorted, knowing Quirinus was terrified of the thought of an errant spell hitting him. He was an abysmal instructor and had been little better as the Muggle Studies professor. At least then there was no fear of his students requesting to learn actual spells. Severus still did not understand why Dumbledore had given Quirinus the position of the Defence Against Dark Arts over himself, but had ceased to question the headmaster’s plethora of questionable decisions.

“Come back to the castle, Quirinus,” Severus commanded, stepping aside to allow the other professor to exit before him. As he passed a terrible stench emanating from Quirinus’ turban filled his nostrils. He wrinkled his hooked nose up in disgust and quickly fell into step beside the man to avoid being downwind of him.

“W-where did you g-go today, S-Severus?” Quirinus asked as they walked up the path towards the castle.

“That is none of your concern,” Severus coldly retorted.

“W-we were wondering in t-the t-teacher’s lounge if it h-had anything to do with Longbottom,” Quirinus continued.

“No,” Severus said succinctly.

“L-longbottom’s v-very t-timid,” Quirinus observed. “I w-was surprised h-he didn’t w-wind up in m-my house.”

“Yes,” Severus replied. “You would understand timidity very well, wouldn’t you, Quirinus?”

Quirinus laughed timorously. “I-I d-did travel the w-world, you know. L-looking for You-Know-Who.”

“And yet, here you are,” Severus dryly replied. “Apparently he was not to be found.”

“N-no,” Quirinus said. “I s-suppose H-harry P-potter really did destroy him. F-funny thing, S-severus. I may n-not have found You-Know-Who, b-but I did m-meet Harry P-potter this p-past summer. I was under the impression h-he’d be attending Hogwarts th-this year. I w-wonder what happened to him?”

“Perhaps, you were mistaken,” Severus said, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken.

“N-no,” Quirinus said, shaking his head. “Rubeus introduced m-me. I’ve asked Rubeus, and h-he suddenly h-had p-pressing business s-somewhere else.”

“Something must have happened,” Severus said. “Perhaps Mr Potter’s relatives decided not to have him attend Hogwarts.”

“P-perhaps,” Quirinus said, but he sounded unconvinced.

“Why do you care?” Severus asked.

“J-just hoping t-to h-have the chance t-to get to know him better,” Quirinus replied. “Aren’t y-you c-curious h-how he did it? H-he was j-just a b-baby, after all.”

Severus refrained from responding and his lips formed a thin line as they walked up the steps to the entrance. Albus needed to be informed of Quirinus’ curiosity immediately. It would not do for rumours to begin flying about the school over Harry’s absence. The sounds from the Great Hall filled their ears and Quirinus headed eagerly towards the doors. Severus followed, glancing quickly down the line of the head table and seeing that Albus was indeed seated in his place speaking with Minerva who sat on his left, about Longbottom, no doubt.

Taking his seat next to Quirinus, Severus helped himself to the fish and chips piled on the platter before him and poured himself a goblet of ale. While the students had water and pumpkin juice in the pitchers at their tables, the professors were afforded a stronger drink as a choice with their supper. Severus took a generous swig, tuning out Quirinus’ continuous chatter that now was about the upcoming Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. He could care less, especially since the new Gryffindor Seeker was a third year who could barely stay on a broom. Slytherin would easily trounce them.

At one point during the evening meal, he glanced down the table towards Albus and saw the headmaster looking his way. They exchanged a brief and silent conversation indicating that they should after supper. The headmaster excused himself not long after and Severus tarried just long enough not to garner suspicion from the remaining professors before slipping out the side door of the Great Hall.

“Quirinus has been inquiring about Harry’s whereabouts,” he informed Albus after they were safely ensconced in the headmaster’s office.

Albus sat behind his desk and steepled his fingers together, mulling this information over. “I am aware of it,” he finally replied, not sounding the least bit concerned. “Hagrid has promised me he will not reveal what he knows.”

“How can you trust that oaf?” Severus asked. “He has never been good at keeping secrets.”

“He will keep this one, I am sure of it,” Albus assured Severus. “After all, he is not fully aware of the bond between Harry and Ginny. There is not much he could divulge past the fact that Harry is now residing with the Weasleys. Do not worry, Professor Quirrell is harmless.”

Severus snorted. “Why you rehired him as the Defence professor I will never understand.”

“His position as the Muggle Studies professor was filled and we needed a Defence instructor,” Albus reminded him. “Would you rather I had given the position to you? If I had, I would then have had to find a new Potions Master, and there is no one as skilled as you, Severus.”

“You flatter me,” Severus replied dryly.

“I prefer you where you are,” the older wizard said with finality.

“What are you going to do about Quirnus’ inquiries?” Severus pressed instead.

“Nothing,” Albus replied. “The inquiries are harmless and better to ignore them altogether. It is no secret that Harry was in Diagon Alley that day making purchases for the upcoming school term. I have no doubt Arthur and Molly will come up with a suitable cover story.

“Now, speaking of Harry. How did your lesson with him and Ginny go today?”

“As well as could be expected,” Severus answered. “The girl has already shown a natural ability at blocking her thoughts.”

“And Harry?” Albus asked.

“He will be more difficult,” Severus replied. “His thoughts are tumultuous.”

“I imagine so,” Albus mused, and studied him a moment. “You appear troubled by this, Severus.”

“If I am troubled it is only because it will make my job of training him that much more difficult,” Severus replied.

“Severus,” Albus counselled. “I know you intended to keep your distance from Harry had he attended this year, and I understand that, my friend, but that is no longer a possibility.”

“I am aware of that, Albus,” he ground out.

“He needs to trust you,” the headmaster continued. “I have no doubt he would appreciate the stories you could tell him about his mother.”

“I,” Severus began, hesitating. Albus did not know what he was asking. How could Severus possibly tell Harry about his mother without talking about his father? Severus had nothing good to say about James Potter, and he was sure the derogatory remarks he made towards James would do nothing to build trust between him and the boy. “I cannot do that.”

Albus nodded. “Yes, I suppose you are not ready for that yet, but perhaps one day, Severus?”

He nodded stiffly.

“In the meantime, keep a close eye on Quirinus for me?” Albus asked. “While I don’t see him as a threat, it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

hghghghg ghghghghg


The streets of Ottery St. Catchpole were teeming with young children and teens alike, clamouring to participate in all the festivities the village had to offer. Normally, the Weasleys had made a day of it, but Molly had been so nervous about Ginny and Harry being seen in public that she had decided they should remain home this year. Ginny had practically begged them after Luna had said she and her father would be attending, and finally after much convincing from Arthur and pleading looks from Ginny, Molly had acquiesced.

Naturally, the two children were thrilled for the change of scenery after spending three months cooped up at The Burrow and were chattering happily about the displays in the village. From the snatches of conversation that drifted back towards Arthur and Molly, Arthur gathered that Harry had never before participated in any holiday events unless they had been offered by the Muggle primary school he had attended. Glancing over at his wife, he wondered if she was catching any of the children’s conversation, but she was urgently scanning their surroundings as they walked down the lane while she nervously fingered her wand, which was hidden in her jumper pocket.

Silently, Arthur reached over and took her hand, linking his fingers through hers and squeezing them reassuringly. “Stop worrying. They need this. We all do.”

“I can’t help it,” she replied, but didn’t try to withdraw her hand.

“I know, Molly,” he agreed, “but we have never worried about attending festivals in the village in the past. Why start now?”

Molly nodded towards Harry and Ginny as their daughter grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the window of the local bakery that had an effigy of Guy Fawkes created out of cakes, scones, and assorted rolls. Arthur had never seen Ginny happier than when she was with Harry. She had always been a bubbly, bright, and enthusiastic little girl with an immense love of life. He wasn’t sure how that could possibly be multiplied, but he was mistaken. Where his daughter had glowed before, now she practically shined, especially whenever Harry laughed at a silly joke she made and beamed a wide smile Arthur was certain the poor boy had never had an opportunity to use before meeting his daughter.

“Nothing has changed,” he commented.

“How can you say that?” Molly asked scathingly. “Everything has changed! Our ten-year-old daughter is married, Arthur!”

“I thought you were coming to terms with that,” he said wearily. “It’s out of our hands, Molly.”

“That’s what I detest the most,” she retorted. “We had no say in the matter. Neither did Ginny or Harry. They didn’t have a choice. Now there is no chance of them having a normal life, dating, discovering what they could have been.”

“Ginny is happier now than I have ever seen her, and I dare say, so is Harry,” Arthur replied, studying his wife closely in the faint light from the street lamps on the street.

“Harry I can understand,” Molly commented, “But why does he make Ginny so happy? They barely know each other.”

The proprietress of the bakery stepped out of the shop before Arthur could reply holding a tray that contained small hot Cornish Pasties nestled in their own wax papers. Smiling broadly down at Ginny and Harry, she held out the tray for them to each select a pasty. Arthur fumbled in his pockets, searching for the few Muggle coins he had managed to find, but the shop owner waved him away.

“It’s on the house, dearie,” she called, as Ginny and Harry turned away, thanking her.

Molly and Arthur did the same, declining any for themselves and continuing to follow closely after the children as they wended their way down the lane. In a tradition that was hundreds of years old, the street was lined with most of the village men, awaiting their turn to carry one of the flaming fifty-pound tar barrels to the centre of the village where the flickering glow of the huge bonfire could be seen. The exact reason as to why villagers of long ago had decided to carry flaming barrels through the town was unknown, but the tradition remained due to the spectacle it added to the occasion of Guy Fawkes Day.

“Well,” Arthur said, picking up the conversation where they had left off, “It’s clear they’ve become fast friends. Ginny appears to be as close to Harry as she is to Luna.”

“Do not even speak to me about Luna!” Molly seethed. “This is all her fault.”

“Albus has already told us several times the potion had nothing to do with Ginny bonding with Harry,” Arthur reminded his wife, “It was merely coincidental.”

Molly snorted, “Something caused it.”

“And maybe one day we’ll discover what that something is, but in the mean time I think we should try our best to accept it,” Arthur suggested.

“She’s my only daughter,” Molly sighed.

“And mine, but what we want most is for her to be happy,” Arthur said. “Look at her, Molly.”

They watched silently as Ginny and Harry meandered down the lane eating their Parkin cakes and pointing and laughing at some of the village children’s attempts at Guy effigies. Ginny’s nose crinkled up as she giggled over some particularly amusing observation Harry had just made and Molly sighed beside Arthur.

“Harry’s a nice boy. He makes Ginny happy, and in the long run, that is all that is going to matter, Molly, and you know it,” Arthur said softly, taking her hand in his and squeezing it tightly.

“I know,” Molly whispered.

“Try to enjoy yourself tonight?” Arthur asked, hopefully and Molly relaxed slightly next to him, nodding slightly.

Smiling, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to him and enjoying her comforting warmth, hoping she was receiving some sort of similar solace from him. They continued to walk slowly and silently down the high street after the children, and upon reaching the bonfire, they could see that most of the village had turned out for the event.

Looking over the crowd, they tried to find Luna and her father. Arthur assumed they wouldn’t be too difficult to find. Most of the villagers wore the typical jumpers and jackets with jeans and boots that all Muggles wore this time of year, but the Lovegoods were never the best at blending in. With Arthur’s avid enthusiasm for Muggles and his extensive research and observation, he had taught his family well. He and Molly were clad in garb similar to those they saw around them and both Harry and Ginny looked like any of the multitudinous village children they had encountered. Of course, having Harry, who had recently been under the care of Muggles all his life, was an added bonus. He had quietly suggested that the flowered shirt Arthur had intended to wear, while not uncommon, may not be the most appropriate attire for the season and had selected a blue plaid shirt for Arthur to wear instead.

Walking amongst the crowd, they were greeted jovially by villagers who recognized Arthur and Molly and they returned their greetings, while Molly corralled Ginny and Harry closer to her.

They finally spotted the Lovegoods on the other side of the bonfire, where they had been considerate enough to reserve a bench near the fire. Arthur grimaced when he saw what Xenophilius was wearing. He wore tight burgundy corduroy jeans that flared boldly at the bottom and a bright, purple paisley print shirt underneath an equally bright yellow
cardigan. Luna’s attire was little better, consisting of bright orange cable-knit cardigan several sizes too large for her petite frame, paired with a red swing skirt, pink and white striped stockings and yellow Wellingtons.

Luna reached out and grabbed Ginny’s and Harry’s hands, dragging them towards the bonfire.

“Let’s get potatoes,” she announced. “Did you bring mittens?” She pulled out a fluffy pair of purple mittens and put them on. Ginny and Harry pulled out their own knitted blue mittens Molly had given them before they left for the evening and pulled them on in order to handle the foil wrapped potatoes that had baked in the fire.

A village woman standing near the fire, smiled as they approached and didn’t seem to find Luna’s attire too out of the ordinary. She handed them each a small, silvery bundle and the three children headed eagerly back to their bench to sit.

“Wait until you see the fireworks, Harry,” Ginny said, settling on the bench next to him and placing her still wrapped potato in her lap.

Luna sat on his other side and immediately began pulling the foil off her potato, taking a tentative bite of her potato before immediately spitting it back out. “Too hot!”

“Of course it is!” Ginny admonished her friend. “It’s straight from the fire. Try breaking it in half to cool.”

Ginny and Harry unwrapped their potatoes and did as she suggested, clumsily breaking them in half and watching the steam rise in the air.

“This is the first Bonfire Night I’ve attended,” Harry said.

“Oh, really?” Luna asked. “They are quite fun, and the fireworks are pretty, as Ginny said, but wizard fireworks are better. Daddy and I saw the most amazing ones while visiting Brazil. They looked like dragons!”

“Really?” Harry asked, turning to look at Luna.

“Oh yes, I didn’t realize it was only a firework, at first,” Luna continued. “I thought it was real!”

“There’s no such thing as dragons,” Harry said.

“Yes there is, Harry,” Ginny said. “My brother, Charlie, works with dragons.”

“Dragons are real?” Harry asked, amazed as both Ginny and Luna nodded their heads.

“Not so loud, kids,” Arthur softly said from behind them where he stood with Molly and Xenophilius. Several of the nearby villagers kept stealing glances their way, and Arthur wasn’t certain if it was because of the children’s conversation, Xenophilius’ odd attire, or both.

Xenophilius seemed oblivious to his surroundings and was watching the children with a beatific smile on his face similar to the one Luna often wore.

“So, how is it you have Harry Potter living with you, Arthur?” he asked, tearing his eyes away to look at Arthur.

“It was upon Professor Dumbledore’s request,” Arthur easily answered.

Xenophilius nodded, but his brow furrowed slightly, “Shouldn’t he have attended Hogwarts this year? If I am not mistaken, he is about the same age as Ron.”

“Yes,” Arthur agreed, but didn’t know how to further answer the question.

“He’s adjusting,” Molly interjected firmly, before lowering her voice. “He didn’t know the truth about himself or his parents. It was a shock.”

Xenophilius’ eyes widened at this statement. “He didn’t know?” he whispered, turning to study Harry closely. “He’s a sensitive child, then, like my Luna. She has taken a shine to him; can’t stop talking about him.” He turned back to Molly and Arthur. “I’m glad you finally allowed Ginny to see her again. She missed her friend this summer, and now she has a new friend. I haven’t seen her this happy and this close to the girl she used to be in a long time.

“And I’m glad no harm was done with that silly potion of theirs,” he hastily added.

“Yes, no harm done,” Molly managed.

Raucous cheering ended any further conversation as the village men approached carrying a flaming fifty-pound barrel. They trudged towards the blazing bonfire and the crowd cheered the men on as they approached with their heavy load. When they reached the bonfire, they flung the barrel into the middle of the flames causing them to flare higher. Cinders sparkled in the air and rained down around the observers.

Ginny, Harry, and Luna squealed in delight and turned their faces heavenward to watch the flames licking at the night sky.

“Pretty exciting,” Arthur observed, kneeling down behind the children to look up at the sky with them. Not long after, the fireworks began, and while not nearly as thrilling as wizard fireworks, as Luna had said, they all enjoyed them immensely. Arthur was hopeful when Molly stepped up beside him and placed a hand on Ginny’s and Harry’s shoulders. If nothing more, it was a start.
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