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SIYE Time:11:29 on 29th March 2024
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Blood of the Heart
By kjpzak

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Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Angst, Drama, Fluff
Warnings: Death, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 411
Summary: 7th Yr Sequel to Ancient Magic. It is now known the power of immortality resides inside Harry and Ginny. Will their combined powers be enough to protect them from the Dark Lord?
Hitcount: Story Total: 197801; Chapter Total: 7042







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Disclaimer — I do not own Harry Potter




Simple





Fire shot through his veins and he wished for death. He dug his fingernails into the threadbare rug to pull himself forward, toward the door, but he could not get away from the unbearable pain. It followed him, searing his insides with punishment for foolishness he was responsible for, and yet, had not committed. He heard himself scream as he felt his intestines twist and knot and tear. His mind teased him, beckoning him toward blissful blackness but he could not go. The torture kept him teetering on the edge of consciousness, then suddenly, it released him, leaving him panting in a pool of his own sweat.


“You will tell your son not to touch her. She is mine and I will have her unharmed.”


“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius agonized faintly into the floorboards, his mind swirling with nauseous thoughts of how Draco would pay.


+++++


Sitting on her bed, Joanna read the front page of The Daily Prophet with a sinking heart. There had been another Death Eater attack, this one being in London. She recognized two of the families. They worked for her father. One of them had a daughter in Ravenclaw. Joanna’s insides ached as she felt the tears gather in her eyes. Sniffling, she swiped at the moisture with the back of her sleeve and swallowed hard. She was so sorry.


Joanna closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, a mixture of tiredness and tears causing her head to ache. Dropping her hand, she tilted her head back and blinked at the ceiling. Joanna felt a little guilty feeling angry. Her anger was petty and selfish, but she could not help thinking about how the article impacted her, too. The last owl Joanna had received from her father said if the attacks kept getting closer, she would have to come home.


….I realize Hogwarts is as safe as anywhere, but in these times, it would be nice to have my family all under one roof, to hug goodnight and kiss good morning…


Joanna could not argue against that, but her heart was here. Deep down, she needed to be here. To go home would rip her in two. She had replied to her father saying she understood and loved him and her mum very much but she was needed at school. Glancing at the paper spread out on her bed again, Joanna felt her heart constrict for the families suffering losses everyday and knew her request had most likely fallen on deaf ears.


“Hey, Joanna,” Ginny said, dropping her book bag on her bed and flopping down. “You alright?”


“No,” Joanna replied, tossing the paper over on Ginny’s bed. “There’s been another attack.”


“Yeah, I read about it this morning at breakfast,” Ginny said quietly, turning the paper so the headline blared at her. She sighed. “Marta wasn’t in Ancient Runes. I heard a couple of Ravenclaws talking, saying her grandmother came to pick her up.”


“Would it really be home if your parents weren’t there?” Joanna asked quietly.


“I — I don’t know,” Ginny answered, her voice cracking.


“My parents might come get me.”


“What? Has something happened?” Ginny asked concerned, moving from her bed to Joanna’s.


“No,” Joanna shook her head. “My dad sent me an owl after the last attacks. He said if they continued, he would rather I be at home than here.”


“But, Hogwarts is safe!” Ginny argued. “And you’ve got classes and —“


“And Neville. I know!” Joanna replied dejectedly.


“Have you told them no?”


“I sent an owl. I don’t think it will matter, though,” Joanna said dejectedly. “My father can be rather stubborn about certain things, especially his family.”


“I’m really sorry, Joanna,” Ginny said. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”


“Me, too,” she sighed, checking the time on her watch. “We’d better get going. We’ve got Charms.”


“Joanna,” Ginny said, sliding off the bed and gathering her book bag up, “have you told Neville?”


“No,” Joanna shook her head. “With Valentine’s Day coming up, I’m kind of hoping the whole thing just goes away and I won’t have to - like if I don’t say anything, it won’t happen. Think it will work?”


Ginny smiled wryly at her friend, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “In my experience, ah — no. But, there’s a first time for everything. Come on, let’s go.”



++++


“Well, if it was meant to be easy, someone would have already banished him by now, I suppose,” Anna said from the floor where she was gathering the quills she had knocked over. Three pairs of eyes stared blankly at her as she righted the holder and replaced the quills. “What? Too much truth, not enough encouragement?”


Ron sighed. “You know, being the Room of Requirement, you would expect you could simply walk in, and there, in the middle, on a pedestal, would be the book, open to the right page, a nice glowing light all around it. Maybe even some light, airy music playing…” Ron’s voice trailed off wistfully as he looked around the room in hopes of finding his wish.


“Of course, Ron,” Anna commented, “if you took that view, perhaps the Room of Requirement might be doing just that. Except that a little of what you need is over there in that book and a little is over there in that one…”


“Thanks, Anna,” Ron said dryly.


“Anytime. So, what are you three dashing young men doing for the women you're going out with on Valentine’s Day?” Anna asked, leaning forward eagerly.


“Valentine’s Day?” Ron asked blankly. “What’s today’s date?” he asked, fishing in his bag for Hermione’s revised study schedule.


“February 8th,” Harry answered immediately.


Ron pulled his rumpled schedule out of his bag. He checked it and hung his head.


“You didn’t notice the moaning about Hogsmeade being cancelled?” Harry asked. “Or the decorations in the common room?”


“No!” Ron groaned. “You’re telling me you did?”


Smirking, Harry nodded. Ron turned hopefully to Neville, took one look at the expression on his face and sighed. “You know, Neville, your face might crack in two with a grin that big on it.”


“Yep,” Neville answered, his cheeks warming.


“Finally figured out what makes it work?” Harry asked, smiling at Neville’s happiness.


“Nope,” Neville shook his head, his grin not wavering. “Gave up.”


“Easier that way,” Ron nodded. “Love is hard.”


“Now that’s where you’re wrong, Ron,” Anna said smiling. “Love isn’t hard. Love is simple. Think about it — what did you do to fall in love with Hermione? Did you have to solve a difficult problem or train for months on end or fluff up your back feathers? No, you just fell in love. Love is simple. It’s the relationships that are hard. Once you start thinking about love, putting expectations on it, demanding things of it — then it becomes complicated.”


Harry glanced over at Ron who, judging by the jerking of his head, was trying to nod his head in agreement while shaking it in disagreement simultaneously. Harry grinned. “Give it up, Ron. She’s right.”


“Did you see the notice about the dance?” Neville broke in, changing the subject.


“Dance?” Anna said. “Really? I love to dance. Especially when I have someone to take me. Have you asked your girlfriends?” she asked, smiling around the table.


“Oh, come on, Neville,” Ron said, throwing a waded piece of parchment at his head, “that smile is making me sick to my stomach.”


“It’s not exactly like we didn’t have to see that same smile plastered on your face for a good six months when you and Hermione first started dating,” Harry commented, flipping a page in the book he was reading. “What are you getting Hermione, by the way?”


“I don’t know,” Ron said exasperatedly. “Valentine’s Day seems so trumped up. Just an excuse to spend money — money I don’t have.”


“Ron, stop being such a spoil sport,” Anna scolded, sitting back in her chair, her hands resting lightly on her thickening waistline. “Valentine’s Day isn’t about money. It’s about showing your ‘someone special’ how you really feel about her. Or in my case, him. We get so caught up in things,” Anna waved her hand over the books spread out on the table, “like trying to banish the most evil wizard in the world, we forget to live. If we forget to live, he wins.”


“You’ve been hanging around Dumbledore too much,” Ron observed.


“It’s true,” Neville said, “if we don’t give it our all now, we might not get our chance later.”


“Neville, you have it bad,” Ron stated.


Neville’s cheeks flamed red but that didn’t keep the grin from coming back.


“Alright, Neville, if you’re so into this holiday, what are you getting Joanna?” Ron asked, crossing his arms in front of him and tipping his chair back onto its back legs.


“Sorry, Ron, can’t tell you,” Neville said, picking up his quill.


“You don’t know!” Ron claimed triumphantly, slapping a hand on the table top.


“No, I do know. But it’s for her. Not for you,” Neville said firmly.


Harry’s body shook with silent laughter at Neville’s put down. The movement drew Ron’s attention.


“So, then, what exactly are you getting my sister for Valentine’s Day?” he asked, tapping his fingers on the tabletop expectantly. Harry’s shoulders stopped shaking as he went completely still.


“An entrapment charm,” Harry replied quietly.


“You’re going to entrap my sister? I might have to call you out for that,” Ron said.


“No, no,” Harry said, shaking his head and looking up at Anna. “What do you know about Entrapment Charms?”


Anna bit her bottom lip and sat back, her eyes growing distant as she searched her mind. “Entrapment Charms were popular with the Egyptians. Bill might be a good resource for them. You know the Egyptians believed you could take it all with you and tried to do just that. Most believed reproductions of animals and servants would suffice as long as they carried the essence of the being’s spirit. Entrapment charms were used to ‘capture’ the spirit, so to speak and to contain it in a clay figure.”


“Did it work?” Harry asked.


“Well, you don’t see a lot of reincarnated Egyptian witches and wizards wandering around with their entourages, although some argue that is due to poor mummification. Air gets through the bandages and well, it gets ugly,” Anna explained, wrinkling her nose and standing up to walk around and read over Harry’s shoulder. “You know, something like this might work.”


“Really?” Ron said, leaning forward.


“The Egyptians didn’t steal real spirits of living individuals, obviously,” Anna said. “They would essentially capture a dead spirit that embodied the desired type of individual. It was rather complicated spell work and involved a crew of witches and wizards simultaneously working together — spirits, even dead ones, are funny beings…” Anna walked up to the chalkboard. With a flick of her wrist, the Obliteration Charm appeared. Anna followed the notes, the corrections, the additions with her finger as she contemplated the outcome of the spell. “If this works, and Ginny can destroy the anchor, that would leave blood and spirit,” Anna said, turning around to face the table. She tapped her nose with her finger and tapped her toe in time. Slowly, she nodded into the expectant silence, her face grim. “We can do this,” she said solemnly, meeting Harry’s eyes.


“I’ll be there,” Ron said firmly.


“Me, too,” Neville agreed.


Anna shook her head. “This is something Harry and Ginny have to do on their own,” she said thoughtfully. “If you and Ginny are bonded for the Obliteration Charm, you can’t simply ‘un-bond’ without doing significant damage to each other. It would be like reaching into your middle and ripping out your heart,” Anna said, sitting back down at the table. “But that’s alright because this will have to be something the two of you do together. You will need each other. It will take an inordinate amount of power to capture his spirit.”


“What do you do with it once you capture it?” Neville asked.


“Good question,” Anna said. “You have to entrap it in something and then dispose of it…”


“The veil,” Harry answered.


“In the Department of Mysteries?” Ron asked.


Anna nodded and shrugged. “Makes sense to me. Of course, we need to figure out what kind of Entrapment Charm could work on a live spirit and how you,” Anna said, nodding at Harry, “are going to be able to cast it without — well, we just have to figure it out.”


“Without what?” Ron asked.


“Without me overpowering Ginny and killing her in the process,” Harry said quietly.


Anna stilled for a moment as she met Harry’s unwavering gaze. She nodded slightly. Harry glanced at Ron, expecting an outburst of sorts. Instead, Ron met his eyes head on and inhaled deeply.


“Well, then let’s get to it,” Ron said, reaching over for the book in front of Harry and beginning to read.




+++++



“ARGH!” Harry pushed back his chair in frustration and stood up. “There’s nothing! Nothing in any of these books that tell us what to do!” Harry began to pace around the Room of Requirement, empty except for him and Ginny.


“Harry, we know what to do. Look at the boards. We have an Obliteration Charm that we think will work. We’re working on the Entrapment Charm. We’re doing fine,” Ginny said patiently from her seat at the table. She and Harry had had this conversation at least a dozen times since he had told her of the Entrapment Charm.


“That’s not what I mean! I mean we can’t do this, not like this. We can’t be connected to do this!”


“And if we aren’t, there won’t be enough power to do both spells!”


“There might be,” Harry argued.


“No, Harry, there wouldn’t be. There wouldn’t be enough left of either one of us,” Ginny replied.


“And there might not be anything left of you if we do this at all!” Harry shouted, slamming his fist on the table. Harry placed his hands palm down on the table and leaned toward Ginny. “I will not sacrifice you. I can’t go on without you,” he growled.


“Harry,” Ginny said, her voice gravelly with exhaustion, “I could lose you, too.”


“I know, Gin, but chances are it’s going to be you…there has to be another way.” Harry said, leaning back and running his hands through his hair.


Ginny sighed. Her eyes were itchy, her neck stiff, her mind numb. She was in no mood to argue with Harry. She knew if she did, she was just going to end up saying something she would regret later.


“Harry, can we do this tomorrow?” she asked, closing the book in front of her to signal she was done for the night.


“My mind isn’t going to change in the morning,” Harry answered stubbornly.


“What will change your mind?” Ginny asked exasperatedly.


“An answer,” Harry barked, “an answer that will say you won’t die or be hurt. That you will be alright.”


“Harry, there are no answers like that,” Ginny cried. She could feel her emotions bubbling up, the tired tears making their way up her throat, her hold on her anger and frustration faltering.


“How do you know?” Harry asked hoarsely. “None of this,” Harry waved his had at the boards, “this wasn’t there before. Who says we haven’t looked hard enough. Or far enough. You yourself said maybe what we were looking for was out of the world as we know it. Maybe it’s still out there!”


Harry dropped his hands to his side, his shoulders slumping, his eyes pleading with Ginny’s. A tear leaked out of her eye and slid down her cheek. She swiped at it impatiently with the sleeve of her jumper.


“We’ll keep looking tomorrow,” she whispered, turning away to gather her books.


She felt his touch on her shoulder, a pressure directing her body to turn around. Harry’s hands framed her face and his lips found hers. There was no softness, no gentleness in this kiss. This kiss was a kiss of desperation and fear. Anxieties battled with greater emotions, fighting to find physical reassurance amidst the pressure. Ginny moaned as Harry’s hands moved down, wrapping around her and pressing her close, as if enough pressure would cause them to meld into one being, allowing him to protect her with his own skin. Ginny’s senses exploded, her mind a blur as she felt her distress mix with Harry’s. It sunk through her, past her heart, past her knees, right out her toes. A sense of numbness remained in its wake, curling, warming, tingling as the kiss changed, becoming gentler, the anger and frustration fading for the present, giving way to something more.


Ginny saw the ribbons, their normal brightness deepen, their colors changing into the vivid mahogany hues of passion and desire. Tongues entwined, Ginny ran her hands down Harry’s back, finding the waist band of his jumper and tugging it up. Harry pulled back to lift the jumper over his head and she gasped from the loss of contact. Throwing the sweater aside, Harry grabbed at Ginny, pulling her back against him, her palms landing flat against his chest. Harry’s breath hissed as Ginny’s fingers curled into the cotton of his t-shirt, scratching him through the fabric. His hands found the bottom of her blouse and pushed it up, his fingers seeking the smooth warmness of her back. Ginny shivered against him as she gave herself up to the sensations growing throughout her body that wouldn’t be appeased, no matter how hard she tried to melt into him. Ginny’s mind became a picture show of sensation — Harry’s lips on the bare skin of her neck; her hands beneath his t-shirt, molding to the contours of his back; Harry’s ragged whisper, “I won’t lose you. Ever! I can’t live without you.”


The words crystallized in Ginny’s mind as she felt Harry pull back to rest his forehead on hers. His breath, warm and short, brushed her skin, mingling raggedly with hers. Ginny kept her eyes closed, arms around Harry’s waist, her heart thumping against Harry’s. Her cheeks were burning. Her lips felt bruised. And her entire body yearned for more.


“I won’t lose you, He’s taken everyone else, he can’t have you.” Harry repeated, his voice husky and broken as he struggled to regain control over his own senses.


Ginny opened her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat. She leaned back to look up. Harry’s glasses were smudged, his hair a mess, his lips parted and red and inviting. Ginny, not able to help herself, raised up on her tip toes, placed her palms on either side of Harry’s face as he had done to hers and fiercely pressed her lips to his. Pulling back only slightly, she whispered against his lips, “You won’t. I promise.”


Ginny lowered herself onto her heels and rested her cheek against Harry’s chest. She made Harry her anchor and tightened her hold, listening as his heartbeat slowed to a solid, comforting thunder under her ear, the ribbons behind her eyelids lightening into a dazzling rainbow of color. They stood there, holding onto each other, gaining the strength necessary to let go.


Harry cleared his throat and squeezed Ginny tightly once more. “We should get going,” he said hoarsely into her hair.


Ginny nodded reluctantly and squeezed back, before letting go. Gathering their belongings, they silently walked, shoulders brushing, hands clasped, back to Gryffindor Tower. They climbed through the portrait hole into the deserted common room.


“I didn’t realize it was so late,” Ginny said.


Harry dipped his head pecking her on the lips. “Almost midnight,” Harry said reluctantly letting go of Ginny’s hand. “Sweet dreams. I’ll see you tomorrow.”


Ginny smiled softly at Harry and nodded before heading up to her room. Mechanically going through the motion of getting ready for bed, Ginny crawled beneath the covers and closed the curtains around her. She sunk into the warmth and softness of the bedding and sighed. Flipping over to her side, she made room for Chehalis under her chin and closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to drag her under. It didn’t come. Harry’s words kept creeping across her mind and her body wished for someone other than a cat to snuggle up with. Ginny turned over again, scrunching her pillow up under her head. She willed her body to relax, trying to clear her mind. She saw ribbons. Disgruntled by her lack of stillness, Chehalis got up, stretched, and circled her body, settling on a space to the left of her feet. Frustrated, Ginny stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before giving up and pushing back her covers. Slipping into her robe, Ginny slipped out of the room and headed back to the common room.


Ginny walked to the sofa in front of the fireplace and sat down, curling her legs underneath her and leaning her head against the arm. She watched the embers flicker, welcoming the drowsy warmth. She smiled as she realized the warmth was coming from the inside out and wasn’t surprised at all when she heard his voice behind her.


“Scoot over.”


Ginny gladly made room and Harry crawled behind her. He pulled her into his arms, snuggling her back against his chest. She relaxed as his soft breath flowed over her ear and his feet warmed hers. Ginny closed her eyes.



++++


Joanna checked her watch as she trotted down the steps from the girls’ dormitory. She had four minutes. The wiggle in her stomach traveled upward and erupted in an ear splitting grin as she neared the bottom. On a whim, she leapt off the third from the bottom step and landed with a “THWUMP!” on the floor. She straightened up and stopped.


“Neville! You’re early,” she said, her smile being replaced with a shade of crimson to match the Valentine’s decorations hanging around the common room. Pressing her hands to her burning cheeks, Joanna smiled weakly at her date, then looked back at the steps before returning her attention to Neville. “Ah, well, that…uh, well, hmm — you look nice,” she finished.


Neville grinned widely. “You do, too,” he said, helping her on with her cloak.


Joanna giggled. “Thanks.”


Dress for the evening was casual. Professor McGonagall had expressly stated no denim as Valentine’s Day was a celebration, but had conceded that dress robes were a bit much. Especially since the festivities were outdoors. Neville held out his elbow and Joanna gladly wrapped her hands around his forearm and stepped forward. Neville didn’t follow. Turning around, she gave him a quizzical look.


“Joanna, we — uh, I ne — need to tell you something,” Neville said, pulling his arm back and turning to face the fireplace.


Joanna stood, cemented to the spot, her heart plummeting from her middle to her feet. She swallowed, biting her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. She wished she could keep her knees from doing so, too. She closed her eyes and tried to channel her sisters — their devil-may-care attitudes, their snappy comebacks, their ability to hold a stiff upper lip. She deflated. She wasn’t any of those things. If Neville was going to tell her this was it, she would try not to beg, but she couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t break.


“I — I wanted to tell you I want to do the bonding ceremony.”


Joanna’s head snapped up. “You aren’t breaking up with me?”


“Breaking up with you?” Neville repeated dumbfounded. “Why would I want to break up with you?”


Joanna felt her face flush, her tongue grow three times its normal size and her brain shut off. “You’re not breaking up with me,” she repeated dazed.


“No,” Neville said, shaking his head and looking at her as if she was batty.


A light bulb went off in Joanna’s head. “You want to do the bonding.”


“Well, if you do,” Neville replied, stepping up to her. “I mean, if you don’t, it’s alright. I just had been thinking about it, and,” Neville’s face flushed to match Joanna’s, “and I can’t imagine not doing it.”


“Really?” Joanna said disbelievingly.


“Really,” Neville replied slightly annoyed.


“Really,” Joanna repeated, her face breaking into a radiant smile.


Neville cleared his throat, his mind a little dazzled by Joanna’s joy. It still threw him that he could make her feel that way. “So, should we go?”


Joanna nodded, her ability to form an intelligent sentence gone. She didn’t mind a bit.



++++



The Valentine’s Day boardwalk was at least two couples wide, allowing privacy and passing room on either side. In a gradual series of single steps separated by stretches of flat path, the walk was lined with strings of fairy lights attached to lamp posts, and led from the front doors of Hogwarts down to the lake. At oddly spaced intervals, a smaller walkway would meander off to a private bench or an overlook where a magical display of lights or music could be enjoyed. Strolling musicians made their way between the couples, string instruments accompanying love songs sung by clear, sweet enticing voices.


Professor McGonagall stood to the side of the doors handing out pouches that jingled to each student who passed. The velvet drawstring bags held heart shaped coins, each engraved with sayings such as “You can’t put a price on love” and “Isn’t she worth it?” The coins could be spent at the carts interspersed along the way, some selling the usual romantic trinkets of flowers and chocolate, others selling things a little more magical.


Professor Flitwick bobbled up and down excitedly in front of one, attempting to entice students to spend a few hearts having a love poem composed by an enchanted quill.


“Guaranteed to tell your lady exactly what is in your heart!” he called, waving to the couples passing by.


Hermione raised her eyebrows at Ron as they passed the cart, but he steered her clear.


“It’s not that I don’t love you with all my heart, Hermione,” Ron said, tugging her along. “But you know what they say about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach and right now I’m starving. If we were to stop, it would probably jot down something about how much I’d love you to be a plate of bangers and mash right now.”


“Classy, Ron,” Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes.


“I prefer ‘honest’,” Ron grinned, leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek.


“Ronald, have you forgotten everything we taught you about women?” a familiar voice asked from a cart up ahead.


“You know honesty isn’t always the best policy,” a second voice chimed in.


“Fred? George?” Ginny asked as she and Harry joined Ron and Hermione on the boardwalk. “What are you two doing here?”


“Chaperones,” Fred said, hooking his thumbs under the lapels of his sparkling red jacket.


Ron snorted.


“What? Don’t believe we could be?” George said indignantly.


“No,” Hermione replied.


“Well, it was worth a shot,” Fred shrugged. “Evening, Harry.”


“Hi, Fred,” Harry said smiling. “Hey, George.”


“Is this your cart?” Ginny asked, eagerly walking over and beginning to inspect the wheeled vehicle behind her brothers.


“Yep,” Fred said. “Dumbledore asked if we would like to be a part of this evening.”


“You know, good marketing, and all,” George explained.


“What are you selling?” Harry asked.


“Is this a love potion?” Ginny asked, holding up a bottle. “Does it work?”


“Of course it works!” Fred grinned. “For a mere two hearts we can guarantee the love of your life will fall in love with you.”


“And what if things go awry?” Hermione asked skeptically.


George leaned over and whispered conspiratorially to them, “We sell the antidote in our shop and will gladly owl it to you tomorrow morning for two Galleons plus shipping.”


“We have mints that will make you into a silver tongued devil for the evening; miniature fireworks to dazzle and delight that can be held in your hand with no injury to you or your date; and our newest product which was inspired by a certain cloak of yours,” Fred said, nodding at Harry and holding up a small, flat rectangular package. Leaning close, Harry read the inscription on the label.


“Invisishield — When You Desire Privacy and None is to be Found.”


“Here,” Fred said, opening the small package and drawing out a piece of shimmering silk stretching from above his head to the boardwalk. He held it up in front of him and let go, leaving the fabric hanging in mid-air, hiding him from view.


“For the purpose of this evening,” George said, “one could steal away for some romantic time with that someone special,” George said, stepping behind the cloth. An exaggerated wet smooching sound came from behind the cloth.


“Aw, come of it!” Ron gagged as Ginny giggled.


George reappeared, the back of his hand to his lips, as Fred rolled up the shield.


“How much?” Ginny asked curiously.


“Oh, no, not for you,” Fred said, eyeing Harry. “Can’t be making it easy for our little sister to go off for a snog. But for you, Ron, we’ll call it a professional sample.”


“You need all the help you can get,” George chimed in. “Bless you, Hermione.”


“No problem,” Hermione sighed. “I’m rather surprised, though, that you don’t have any thing like an instant date. You know, ‘transfigure this mouse into an ethereal being for your evening’,” she continued sarcastically.


“Tried,” Fred sighed. “McGonagall said we couldn’t sell them here.”


“That, and the frogs we used just kept licking Stewart when he asked them to dance,” George said. “But you know, Fred, maybe if we used something less reptilian…”


“Oh, before I loose my appetite,” Ron said, dragging Hermione down the boardwalk.


“I’ll take one of these,” Harry said, holding up a palm sized box of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes Fireworks For Two.


“Ah, lovely choice, young Harry,” Fred said, pocketing Harry’s heart coins. “You two young lovebirds have a lovely evening,” Fred sighed, clasping his hands under his chin and battling his eyelashes at them.


“Yes,” George said, waving like an excited old woman at their backs. “Enjoy yourselves. HANDS A LITTLE HIGHER THERE, P —“


George’s mouth kept moving but no sound came out as Harry and Ginny casually stowed their wands. Ginny smiled brightly and waved and they kept moving down the walkway.



As the boardwalk neared the lake, it became wider, forming a deck that traveled halfway around the lake. At either end, tables for two, four and eight were set with flickering candles and polished silver. As students sat, the intricately folded napkins levitated up, snapped flat and gently floated down into the diners’ laps as their plates and goblets magically filled.


A dance floor separated the tables. The space glowed warmly, lit from above by paper lanterns suspended in the night. Couples swayed to music being played by a band whose sign in the middle of the stage listed them as “The Night Nifflers.”


Beyond the stage, Ginny could see the boats used to bring the first years across the lake lit up with fairy lights. Hagrid stood on the end of the dock, helping a couple of students into one of the boats. As he stood up, Hagrid noticed Ginny and waved. He motioned for her to come and take a ride and she nodded, pointing to the tables and miming eating. Hagrid smiled and turned to assist the next couple wanting to take a gentle cruise on the water.


“Can I take your cloak?” Harry asked, offering his arm.


“Oh, yes,” Ginny answered, working on the clasp. “They must have put warming charms on this part. This is really nice,” Ginny said, handing Harry her cloak and weaving her hand into his.


“Yeah,” Harry replied, his eyes trailing over the scene. “I heard Dumbledore was really sorry Hogsmeade had to be cancelled. Flitwick was in charge of all of this,” he said, ducking as a Cherub flew overhead, shooting arrows of sparkling glitter into the air.


“No wonder he’s been so distracted in class this week,” Ginny said, reaching up to brush some sparkles out of Harry’s hair.


“Come on, you two,” Ron called impatiently from a table. “I’m starving and the plates won’t fill up until the whole party is seated. Oh, and the chairs won’t come out unless you pull them out for your date,” Ron said, rolling his eyes at Harry.


“It’s called Chivalry, Ron,” Hermione explained exasperatedly. “Opening doors, standing up when a lady enters the room — it’s simply being polite.”


“And why can’t women do that when men enter the room, then?” Ron complained.


“It wasn’t my idea. Ask King Arthur,” Hermione said.


“I thought the Muggles had a Queen right now,” Ron said.


“Never mind,” Hermione sighed, shaking her head.


Ron shrugged his shoulders and leaned back, letting his napkin float into his lap as his plate filled in front of him. Conversation shifted to mundane talk about classes and Quidditch and couples on the dance floor as they ate. It was an unspoken agreement that tonight, the war was left outside the festivities.


“Hi guys!” Neville said, as he and Joanna stopped at their table. It was hard not to smile at the pair. Something good seemed to radiate off them, filling whoever was in their presence with a sense of happiness.


“Hi Neville. Hi Joanna. Having a good night?” Hermione asked.


“Isn’t this lovely?” Joanna said, her eyes twinkling merrily. “Did you see the carts? Neville bought me a poem. Want to see it?”


“No!” Neville cried, trying to grab the pink piece of parchment Joanna held out to the table.


“Oh, come on, Neville,” Joanna said, leaning into him. “It was sweet.”


“Uh, Joanna, there’s nothing here,” Harry said, turning the parchment over to make sure he had the proper side up.


“What do you mean?” Joanna said worriedly, taking the parchment back. “No, it’s right here, see — oh,” she said, as Harry’s hand touched it and the writing faded.


“That’s rather clever,” Hermione said. “The parchment must be charmed to only reveal the poem to the person it was intended for.”


“Seems like you’re off the hook, Neville,” Ron said, leaning back in his chair.


“Oh, well, I can always read it out loud to you,” Joanna said, clearing her throat.


“Look! Hagrid has a free boat,” Neville said, pulling Joanna along behind him.


Joanna giggled as she let Neville lead her off. “Guess I’ll have to read it to you tonight, Ginny. Maybe you two could get Ron and Harry to buy you one and we can compare?”


Hermione raised her eyebrows at Ron. “You’ve eaten now. Shall we?”


Ron groaned and looked pleadingly at Harry who was placing his napkin to the side of his plate. Harry leaned over and whispered in Ginny’s ear, “Care to dance?”


Harry could have sworn if the lights went out, the smile she gave him would have lit up the entire boardwalk. His heart leapt at the sight and he grinned back.


“I’d love to. Excuse us,” Ginny said, as Harry stood and pulled her chair out.


“No, Harry, that’s not fair, y-you can’t just leave,” Ron sputtered as Harry led Ginny to the dance floor.


Ginny had no idea what song the band was playing and she didn’t really care. Stepping into Harry’s arms and resting her cheek on the scratchy wool of his jumper, she closed her eyes. She felt Harry’s hand find hers and they swayed on the dance floor, the rest of the world melting away. Internally, Ginny watched the ribbons, growing brighter with their closeness, flooding her body with warmth and rightness. If she hadn’t heard her feet stepping on the wood of the floor, she would have sworn she was dancing on air.


Ron turned to Hermione who was gazing thoughtfully at Harry and Ginny. He watched her catch her bottom lip in her teeth and tilt her head, her brow furrowing.


“You alright, Hermione?” he asked. “If you really want a poem, I’ll go b-“


“No, Ron, it isn’t that,” Hermione said, waving at him to be quiet. “It’s — it’s — huh,” she said, sitting back in her chair.


“Huh?” Ron asked confused.


“No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s too simple. It can’t be.”


“What can’t be?”


Hermione suddenly stood up, her chair tilting precariously backward on two legs into the table behind them. Ron caught it before it crashed into the other diners.


“Sorry ‘bout that,” Ron said, as Hermione brushed by him on her way to the dance floor. “Wait, Hermione! Come back here!”


Hermione stopped centimeters from Harry and Ginny, her eyes focused on their joined hands. Ginny opened an eye inquisitorially. Hermione started to smile.


“Hermione!” Ron said, coming up beside her.


“What is it?” Harry asked, as he and Ginny stopped moving.


“I think I know the answer,” Hermione said, clasping her hands around Harry and Ginny’s and looking up to meet their eyes. “You’ve got it in you already.”


“I’m lost,” Ginny said, eyeing her friend a little warily.


“Let’s go for a boat ride and I’ll explain,” Hermione said, marching off in Hagrid’s direction.


Hagrid grinned at them as they approached. “Havin’ a good Valentine’s Day?” he asked, motioning for one of the waiting boats to glide up to the dock.


“Yes, thank you, Hagrid,” Hermione said, climbing into the front of the boat.


“Now, no rockin’ the boats on the lake,” Hagrid cautioned, as he helped Ginny into the back. “I don’ want t’ ‘ave t’ swim after the lot o’yeh,” Hagrid said, tapping the boat with his pink umbrella and sending them off with a wave.


Once they were safely out of earshot, Hermione clasped her hands in her lap and leaned forward.


“I think I figured out how to protect Ginny during the spell,” she said excitedly. “It’s in you already. You don’t have to do a thing! It’s really brilliant and it’s all your mum’s doing, Harry. And yours, too, Ginny.”


“What do you mean?” Harry asked.


“Alright, the first part of the spell is an Obliteration type charm, right?” Hermione said patiently. “In order to do it, you two have to be connected which you can do through your bond. You have to be connected because Ginny on her own would not have enough power to break Voldemort’s bond. But together you would. The fear is when you combine magic and then perform the Obliteration Charm to destroy your bond within Voldemort, you will die. But your bond with Harry in Harry isn’t broken.”


“We know all this, Hermione,” Ginny said.


“I know, but think of what else is in your bond. It’s your mother’s blood protection. You gave it to Harry. He can give it back. I read your mother’s research, Harry,” Hermione said breathlessly, her eyes bright with excitement. “Sanguis is the study of Progeny Magic. Progeny Magic is fueled by love, and that was abundant between you and your mother, both of you. When you bonded, Ginny, you shared your mum’s love with Harry, but Harry also shared his mother’s love with you. That, on top of the fact your bond is one based on true love, it makes your bond within each other unbreakable. No Obliteration Charm can break a love match like that. It’s impossible.”


“Why is it impossible?” Ginny whispered.


“Because true love is immortality in its purest form,” Hermione recalled, Borgin’s words from so long ago echoing in the night. “And there isn’t anything purer than a mother’s love.”



“Are you sure?” Ron asked skeptically. “Is it really that simple?


Ginny’s hand squeezed Harry’s as she nodded. “A mother’s love is. At the registration, Mum told me that for a mother there isn’t anything greater than loving a child and that’s what gives a baby the protection.”



”That still doesn’t mean she might not die,” Harry said quietly.


“Harry, listen to me,” Hermione said, resting her hand on Harry’s knee. “Your bond is protected. Through that, you can give Ginny the will to live. You can keep her alive. You love her enough that you can do it. I know it.”


Harry’s eyes bored into Hermione’s, seeking any remnant of doubt she might have. There was none to be found.


“It will work, Harry,” Hermione said earnestly. “At least in theory. Harry, you’ve proved everyone wrong once and lived because you were protected by your mother’s love. I’m certain it will work again.”


“How?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. “How do I pull her through?”


“Through the ribbons,” Ginny said, her voice quiet but confident. “You’ve manipulated them before. You can do it again. It might take some work, but you can do it.”


“Will you teach me?” Harry asked, looking down at her beside him.


Ginny smiled gently. “We’ll start tomorrow.”


As the boat approached the dock, Harry leaned down to place a soft kiss on Ginny’s lips. The nagging anxiousness still inhabited his heart, but it felt lighter. As he pulled away, he heard Ron snort and something jab him in the side.


“Here,” Ron said, keeping his eyes averted. “I’ll buy another.”


Harry chuckled as he looked down at the Invisishield in his hand.


“Oh, let them get their own,” Hermione said, placing a hand on Ron’s knee. “I’m thinking we might need it. Want to go around again?” she asked, smiling invitingly at Ron. Ron grabbed the package out of Harry’s hand and waved them off as they climbed out of the boat.


“Go! Dance! Bye,” he said, ripping the package open to the sound of Harry and Ginny’s dockside laughter.


“Well,” Ginny said, smiling up at Harry.


“Yeah,” Harry grinned back. “Want to go make some fireworks of our own?”


“Harry!” Ginny grinned. “That’s rather risqué of you to suggest such a thing.”


“What? I was thinking of these,” Harry replied innocently, pulling out the box of hand held fireworks he had purchased from Fred and George earlier. “What did you think I meant?”


Ginny giggled and swatted his arm. “You know exactly what I meant, which means you were thinking it, too.”


Hand in hand, they walked past the dancers and back up the boardwalk until they came across a quiet looking offshoot and headed down it. The little path meandered back, around several trees to a small platform where a bench sat overlooking the grounds. Ginny stopped as the bench came into view and squinted. She giggled as she made out two familiar silhouettes, plastered together, enthusiastically enjoying the privacy.


“Harry,” Ginny whispered loudly, elbowing Harry in the side. “Looks like we’ll have to find someplace else for fireworks.”


In a flash, the couple on the bench shot apart and looked up.


“Ginny!” Joanna said, scooting back toward Neville when she saw who it was. “Go away. This bench is taken.”


“Joanna!” Neville admonished, hoping the darkness covered his flushed cheeks.


Ginny giggled. “You two having fun?”


“We were,” Joanna replied dryly.


“Don’t let us keep you, then,” Harry said, tugging Ginny back down the path.


“No, wait!” Neville said standing up. Harry and Ginny turned. Neville glanced down at Joanna who smiled and nodded.


“We, uh, we wanted to tell you,” Neville said, “we’re going to do the bonding ceremony.”


“Really?” Ginny breathed.


Joanna snorted.


“Really,” Neville replied rolling his eyes.


Ginny squealed and flung herself at Joanna then Neville. “I promise,” she said, squeezing them tight, “I will do my best!”


“Hey, you guys want to see some fireworks?” Harry asked, digging out the box from his pocket.


“Excellent!” Neville exclaimed, checking out the box.


“Stand back,” Harry warned, as he held them out on his palm and pointed his wand at the wick. “These are from Fred and George - and Joanna can’t heal you yet, Neville.”


The sound of laughter was soon drowned out by the whiz, whir and boom of the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes Fireworks for Two.


++++


“Joanna Blevins!”


Cold slapped Joanna in the face as she jerked back from Neville for the second time that evening. She could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. She felt instant nervous sweat bead along her hairline. She was torn between mortification and a growing sense of fear of what that voice meant. Joanna swallowed, stepped out of the alcove in the seventh floor corridor and opened her eyes.


“Hello, Mum,” she said faintly.


She felt Neville’s hand slip into hers and a sense of warmth began to thaw the fear inside her. She glanced at Neville through her eyelashes. He was as pink in the cheeks as she was. “Uh, this is Neville Longbottom, Mum.”


“Hello, Neville,” Vivian Maddox-Blevins said, holding out her hand as she studied him.


“Hello, Mrs. Blevins,” Neville said, firmly shaking her hand with his free one.


Vivian’s eyes passed over her daughter’s slightly disheveled clothes to the fleeting glance Joanna shot Neville to the entwined hands. She fought the smile that threatened to pop out and embarrass her daughter further. Inside, though, she allowed herself to jump up and down with joy for her youngest daughter. Joanna was just like she was and she hadn’t let a boy muss her up until she was knee deep in love and sure he was, too.


Vivian pulled her daughter into a hug, kissing the side of her head and closed her eyes.


“Ah, there you are. Good, you found Joanna.”


Vivian looked up at her husband Milton as he strolled purposefully down the corridor. Vivian felt Joanna’s shoulders slump and she realized her daughter knew why they were here. She then read the expression on Neville’s face as a mixture of fear, concern and heart wrenching love for her daughter. Vivian squeezed Joanna’s shoulders and released her.


“Hi, Dad,” Joanna said, stepping into her father’s arms.


“Hello, sweetie. I’m sorry for the short notice, but it was convenient for Mum and I to come now. And who is this?” Milton asked as Joanna stepped back. “Milton Blevins.”


“Neville Longbottom,” Neville replied a little nervous, shaking Joanna’s Dad’s hand.


“Nice to meet you, Neville Longbottom. Now, Joanna, in light of not wanting to interrupt this evening’s festivities and the fact I have business in Hogsmeade tomorrow, Professor Dumbledore has graciously given your mother and I accommodations for the evening. When I’m done, we can then all return home. It shouldn’t take you too long to pack, especially if you aren’t in classes. Joanna, you look a little pale, are you alright?” Milton asked, looking at his daughter with concern.


Joanna exhaled shakily and looked at her mother for help. Vivian smiled gently at her.


“Milton, let’s not disrupt their evening any longer,” Joanna’s mum said, taking her husband by the arm. “I’m exhausted and you’ve got a big day tomorrow. We can finish discussing this in the morning.”


“Discussing what in the morning?” Milton asked. “There isn’t any reason for discussion.”


“Yes, there is,” Joanna said, finding her voice.


“No, there isn’t. I owled you that if the attacks continued, you would be coming home.”


“But sir, Hogwarts is safe,” Neville argued, Milton’s words sinking in. Joanna smiled encouragingly at him.


“Yes, but Neville, so is our home and in times like these, I’d like to have my family close by.”


“Dad, I don’t want to go. I want to stay here,” Joanna said, her voice gaining strength with each word.


Milton’s eyes traveled from his daughter’s face, flushed with annoyance to Neville’s face, flushed with embarrassment. For the first time, his eyes traveled over their entwined hands. A sinking feeling began to form in the pit of his stomach. When in love, the Belvins women were practically impossible to budge. He felt his wife’s hands encircle his arm and gently squeeze.


“Let’s talk about this in the morning,” Vivian suggested, pulling Milton away. ‘You two sleep well. It was nice meeting you, Neville. Goodnight, Joanna. We love you.”


“I - I love you, too,” Joanna replied dejectedly as her mother firmly lead her father down the corridor.


Vivian glanced back over her shoulder and saw Joanna rest her forehead on Neville’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close for comfort.




+++++


A/N — Thank you, thank you to wvchemteach for suggesting Fred and George be silenced and to Anya for liking that bit the best — you guys are awesome betas!


And to bogus7 - my many, many thanks for taking time out of saving the world to read my story!


I’d like to take a few lines and comment on the last chapter. For all the reviews, mails, questions, complaints, comments and encouragement — Thank You! I have truly appreciated every one of them. One of things I’ve learned writing this story is I can’t expect to please everyone because we all bring different expectations to the table. As I tell my son, if we were all the same, how boring would that be?


For those of you who think I should have suspended Malfoy, well, in hindsight, you have an excellent point and I probably should have. For those of you wondering what’s happened to all the wonderful canon characters JKR has given us to play with — don’t worry. They’ll be back in full force, starting with this chapter. The previous two or so chapters I took some time to explore some characters near and dear to my heart — isn’t that part of the beauty of fan fiction anyway?


As I said, I so appreciate all your feedback — it is what makes me a better writer and this a better story. So, please, keep it coming! Enjoy - Katy

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