Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ A Butterfly Effect ❯ Chapter 7: Higgery Piggery Porkery Pop ( Chapter 7 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Welcome to CoS my lovurly readers. I'm so excited. I'm doing my CoS dance. SNAKES!

Went back and fixed up the other chapters. Grammar, spelling, and connection wise. Added a few little bits that made things run smoothly. Nothing really super important though.

Just want to warn everyone.This story is rated M for a reason. It will get darker through the years. Just like Jk but far more instense. I'm going to address issues that no one is comfortable talking about: teenage sexuality, homosexuality, rape, murder, depression, horrible violence… but… along with all the good things too. It's about the things that make life great: love, friendship, family, and some really mind blowing sex. It's about doing what's right, instead of what is easy.

So if any of you thought the last chapter was too dark with the child abuse… well… might want to leave. There are darker chapters still to come. But I can promise you a great story. It's been cooking and boiling in my head for months… too bad I don't outline… I'll probably forget it all.

Chapter 7: Higgery Piggery Porkery Pop

The jungle was high and the jungle was broad and the jungle was the entire world forever and ever.

0000

"I tell you Lucius, Dumbledore is running that school into the ground! He's even pressuring the Ministry's financial offices to start sending support to underprivileged students; to riffraff like the Weasleys and the Midgens.

"Do tell me Rose, where did you get that beautiful pendant? It looks goblin made… hand-cut too!"

"I do what I can Cassius, pulling strings, breaking bridges. The other members on the Board of Governors hold Dumbledore in the highest regard. When public opinion shifts, more options will be open to us. We need a setback that will cripple his image before I can… convince them. I have a few, half-hatched ideas.

"Oh it is! It's wonderful of you to notice, Cissa. It was such a find. I was wandering around the Place de Sorcellerie on my last trip to Paris and I found the most charming little jewelry shop. The owner didn't realize what he was selling and I got it for only two hundred galleons!

Draco stirred his shellfish stew with disinterest. There had never been two more boring conversations in the history of spoken word.

Pansy stomped on his foot underneath the table, giving him a look that quite clearly said, 'I want to leave.'

He nodded his agreement and interrupted the sparkling dinner chat. "Mother, Father, Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson, may Pansy and I excuse ourselves?"

His father nodded. "Very well Draco. Think on what we talked about this morning. I'd like you to accompany me tomorrow."

"I will, Father… Dobby! Don't touch me!" He backhanded the disgusting little elf that had been tugging on his pants leg.

Pansy took Draco's hand and pulled him from the Dining Hall out to their favorite spot on the Spanish Veranda. She picked up her book with a half naked man on the front and sat down in one of his mother's extravagant cushioned porch swings. He couldn't help glimpsing her pink knickers as she folded her legs up onto the seat. She flicked her eyes to the empty space next to her.

Draco felt his face heat up and he said quickly, "I'm going to go for a fly before it gets dark."

A flash of what looked like disappointment crossed her face, but it was gone as quickly as it came, her ever present aloof mask sliding back into place. She shrugged uncaringly.

Up in the air, on his brand new Nimbus Two Thousand One, he flew avidly around their private pitch, attempting to rid his mind of that little pink triangle up his playmate's skirt. Up his best friend's skirt… well, as best a friend as any Slytherin can have.

They both had birthday's in September, Draco's on the 10th and Pansy's on the 28th. In a little over two months, they would be thirteen. If he had been born eleven days earlier, they would be in completely different years at school.

He was older, she was older… and he had started… noticing things. Like the way her chest had bulged outward an inch at the end of the school year… almost overnight. Like the way her hips had slimmed at the waist whilst thickening below. Like the way her blouse rose up every time she reached into the air. Like the way her straight black hair rose and fell with her breath.

Her black hair. He just couldn't get used to it. As soon as they had returned home for the summer, she had gone to Diagon Alley, bought hundreds of galleons worth of magical hair products, and had come over to his mansion the next day looking like a completely different person. All his life she had had little, blonde, curly ringlets. Now it was silky, straight, and jet black... permanently… from what she told him. It reminded him of Harry's, but it was smooth, shorter… and tamed of course. Pansy would die before she let herself have messy hair. He had to admit, he missed the ringlets… but now… she was… well… bloody gorgeous. Blue eyes, black hair, button nose. Any bloke would agree… that's just mean.

It was only last week that he'd had his first… vivid dream about Pansy. Well, Pansy and… and Harry.

Draco soared around the posts. Harry hadn't spoken to him since the forest and just the thought of her name made him flash vividly back to the dream.

The two much older looking girls were on top of him, one on either side, lips raking his chest and neck; moaning softly as their large dream-enhanced breasts brushed against his skin; groaning as his hands roamed their bodies freely, drifting across smooth flawless skin. Pansy smashed her lips against his and reached down to squeeze him lightly. Both girls giggled at his groan of pleasure. Pansy slid back, while Harry slid up positioning herself above him, looking down at his face with those beautiful green eyes. He raised his hands to cup her perfectly rounded arse, pulling her to him. Reveling in Harry's tinkling moan as his tongue dipped into her sex, Draco felt Pansy's warmth sink down-

Draco shook himself roughly. "Stop it! You'll never replace Higgs if all you think about at tryouts is her arse. She doesn't even have an arse to think about yet! She's twelve and she's skin and bones for Merlin's sake."

"Skin you wouldn't mind seeing," said an annoying little voice in his head. Draco sighed heavily. "Merlin, I'm talking to myself." He brought his Nimbus around fiercely to face the far posts. Draco had been flying for hours every day since his father bought him the broom; training hard. He wanted to be as good as she was at something she loved. He wanted to be her equal so... so she would speak to him again.

His father had bought six more brooms so that Draco could bribe the team into taking him on as a seeker. He had thought it had been a grand idea at first, but now... Harry's disapproving face swam into view. She'd despise him for essentially cheating his way into her most favorite thing in the world. No… he had to make the team on his own. He could give them the brooms afterwards.

Draco rushed toward the hoops as fast as the sleek broom could carry him. The day before the leaving feast, Harry had gone flying with the Weasel. He had watched from the stands in utter astonishment as she performed the turn consistently. There were only a handful of Pro seekers and chasers in the entire League that could do the same!

As he approached the hoop, he dipped a leg down. I'm going to die. His foot latched around the top rim; he pushed downward on the broom handle; he started to spin!

Instead of slingshotting through the hoop and corkscrewing off in the direction he had just come from, he shot straight down, broom handle catching on the lower rim of the ring. It flew out from under him and he plummeted towards the ground at a horrendous speed.

Land was closing in. He screamed. He collided into it and… bounced to a halt. Oh right… practice pitch charms.

Head reeling, he saw Pansy running towards him across the lush grass. "Oh, Draco! Are you alright?"

He stood and she crashed into him, knocking them both back down to the grass. Pansy was on top of him, small breasts heaving against his chest as she hugged him tightly, her hair tickling his chin. He was distinctly aware of every place their bodies were touching.

"I'm alright. Get off." Draco said quickly, pushing her back, feeling his erection grow. He blushed, hoping to god she couldn't feel it against her stomach. Pansy reddened and quickly removed herself. Bollocks, she did.

Draco sat up to hide the tent in his pants. He couldn't look at her… couldn't say anything as she hovered over him… just… watching. He could almost feel her pale blue eyes trying to bore their way into his skull.

Quite suddenly, without a word, Pansy spun and marched back to her book. He groaned into his knee, pounding his head down upon it to better accentuate his thoughts. Shite! Bollocks! Motherfucker!

Draco stood, picking up his broom, and strode slowly, apprehensively across the field and onto the veranda. The cooling charms on the house washed over him as he collapsed into the hanging swing. It took him ages to finally say sincerely, "I'm sorry Pans… it just happened."

Pansy ignored him and continued to stare down at her book. He noticed however, that her eyes weren't moving across the pages… the pages that she wasn't turning. She sat painfully still and his eyes raked over her body and pretty face. Pansy smashed her lips against his and reached down to squeeze him lightly. Both girls giggled at his groan of pleasure.

With a heaving sigh, he spun the swing so they could look out at the peacocks strutting across the front lawn. A rather large one was sitting right at the edge of the veranda, its enormous multicolored plume spread upwards. Fate was laughing at him it seemed. Peacock mating season…

He really didn't want the year to continue this way. After a half an hour of silence, of watching the sun sink below the tree line, he managed to gather enough courage to drawl, "look Pansy… it didn't mean-"

She cut him off in a harsh whisper, mask of indifference falling away. "It meant something to me."

He froze in fear, the beating of his heart increasing tenfold.

Pansy bit her bottom lip and closed her book, sitting it softly in her lap. Eyes cast downward and away from him, she hesitantly asked, "does it… does it mean you think I'm pretty then?"

While his brain cowered in the corner of his skull, Draco heard the words tumble out from his mouth of their own accord. "I've always thought you were pretty." He said it very quickly, and it came out jumbled together in one breath… but she knew what he meant.

"Even though I look…" Her moistened eyes rose to meet his and she gestured at her face. "Terry Boot said I… I looked like a pug and… you didn't do anything."

Bugger. "Honest Pans, I didn't hear him. I would've done something about it."

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "I know you didn't! You were too busy staring at Potter… No don't give me any of that," she said angrily as he tried to deny it. "I see how you look at her when you think no one's watching. It's like you're a toddler and she's a toy that got taken away from you. I hate her Draco! I hate her and I hate that you… I… I see how you look at her and it's made me realize that…" She trailed off, huffing.

Draco gazed at her apprehensively and said, "realize… what?"

Pansy took her sweet time to answer. She would fiddle with her shirt; flip through her book; scratch her leg. Eventually, she gathered herself and whispered heatedly, "that I… I don't like it."

He thought he knew what was coming and… well… he wanted to help it along. "Why don't you like it?"

Pansy looked away and scoffed, saying huffily, "because she's too pretty… Prissy Pretty Potter. She thinks she's so great with her Quidditchand her grades and her stupid little friends."

"What does that have to do with me looking at her?"

"Well it… because I… well I… I like you Draco!" She glanced nervously at his face before her gaze returned to her shoes. "I have since… since I saw you so upset over her… after the sorting.

"I…" Do I? I think I do. My body certainly does. "I like you too, Pans."

When her head rose again, she was smiling widely. "Do you… do you mean it?" she asked anxiously. "You don't think I look like a… a pug dog?"

Her black hair glittered brightly in the now risen moonlight. Draco laughed and replied weakly, "of course I… of course I don't. You're prettier than every girl in…" Harry slid up, positioning herself above him, looking down at his face with those beautiful green eyes.

"Your nose is small and it turns up a bit but it… it suits you… very well." He reached his hand over to her cheek and brushed his thumb down between her eyes to the little sharp tip in the middle of her face. She turned her head into his palm and held it to her shoulder.

She was so much closer now… as they had been steadily inching towards each other. In what was likely his bravest voice, he continued. "But that's not the only reason why I… like you. I like you because you're my… best friend, Pans… and the… the looks are just a bonus."

Pansy was raising herself up off the cushions, gazing into his eyes. "Do you… do you like Potter?"

Draco knew he wouldn't be able to lie to her while she stared at him like that. "I…"

Pansy frowned and paused. "Do you like me more than you like her?" Her eyes were sparkling with hope and he could tell what answer she needed to hear. Thankfully… his answer to that question was the truth.

Draco slowly nodded. A life without Harry is… well, what I've been living for a year really. But a life without Pans… "Yeah, I… I do Pansy."

He leaned down. She leaned up. Their lips met softly… innocently… awkwardly… and clumsily… but it felt nice. It felt right. The kiss was cut short when Pansy suddenly pulled away. She was crying. Bugger! What did I do?

"Draco, I've… I've been meaning to tell you all week... and now I…" She seemed to steel herself and said quickly, "Father has… has entered into negotiations for a contract with the Notts."

Draco sat back, totally floored. Is that coincidence? Well, this makes things easier. They could just… switch. "Pansy… my Father opened negotiations with the Greengrass family… just a few days ago. I was going to tell you but… I didn't really know how."

Pansy stood up quickly. "I don't want to marry Theodore. He has terrible body odor."

He got to his feet slowly and placed a hand to her waist. "And I don't want to marry Daphne... or her baby sister for that matter. Neither of them can ever stop gibbering. So then… do you?"

"Draco?" Pansy asked huskily, stepping closer, pressing her body into his. She whispered breathily into his collarbone, "Are you asking me what I think you're asking?"

"Yeah Pans… I am." He drew back and nervously placed a little kiss on her nose. "Even if this doesn't… you know. Well, I'd rather be arranged with you than with someone else."

She nodded avidly in agreement. "Do you think we can convince them?"

"I don't… I don't know." Father so rarely changes his mind. "Hopefully."

Pansy put her arms around his neck and kissed him again. This time it was less chaste… fiercer… their bodies molded together… still awkward, but equally as nice. She smelled divine… like roses. Draco knew she liked to use all sorts of fragrant oils in her bathwater, as she had so frequently told him, always making him smell her when she found a new one. He used to think the scent was a bit too strong and a little ripe… but now… he found it intoxicating.

Her lips massaged his own softly. Draco tried to match her, but was rather… clumsy in his attempts. I wonder if Harry kisses like this? Probably, won't ever know. He got rid of the thought quickly, giving Pansy his full attention. When he slid a hand down to the small of her back, she whimpered quietly, opening her mouth just the tiniest bit. He could taste the strong wine they had sampled at dinner; it was lingering on her tongue as it darted out just quickly enough to brush his bottom lip.

Pulling away, he asked in a curious drawl, "Where'd you learn to kiss?"

Eyes still closed, mouth still moving, she blushed fiercely and mumbled, "I would practice on my pillow… pretending that it was you."

Draco smirked at the solid ego stroking. "Sorry that I'm not any good."

"Mmmmm... better than my pillow," Pansy moaned, slightly dazedly.

His heart beat a little faster, increasing from a quick pounding, to a steady roar of heavy thuds. "Let's go ask them." He dragged her back into the mansion; to the drawing room where his parents and the Parkinsons most likely now resided. Hearing laughter inside, he pushed open the door.

The room quieted when he and Pansy entered. His Father's steely grey eyes immediately trained upon their clasped hands. "Yes?" he drawled slowly. "What can we help you with Draco?"

His voice quavered as he stood under the penetrating gaze of the four adults. "Father… I have… I have thought about what we discussed. I wish for… for both my own and Pansy's marriage negotiations to cease." His father's eyes narrowed. "I wish for the Malfoy and Parkinson families to engage in new contracts… to… to each other."

While Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson's faces lit up with delight, for the Malfoy family was far wealthier than the Notts, his father laughed in derision. "Cassius and I have already aligned the families through business and friendship. There is no need for further bonds. I have told you time and time again that this is what marriage is for Draco; to cement the bonds between the old families. You will marry a daughter of the Greengrass line."

Mrs. Parkinson said hastily, "Come now Lucius, you've seen how they dote on each other. It would be a fine match." Draco knew the woman didn't truly care about 'how they doted on each other.' Her face betrayed her greed. He supposed his own face would've done the same if he suddenly was on the verge of receiving hundreds of thousands of galleons.

Mrs. Parkinson went on to say, "we are just as, if not wealthier than the Greengrass family, and certainly less closely related to your own. Belvina Black, daughter to Phineus Nigellus and sister to Cygnus, married Herbert Burke, one of Cassius' Great Grandfathers… so they're fourth cousins on Narcissa's and Cassius' side… if I'm remembering the Black family tree correctly. I'm sure there are no other connections between the other lines… for at least ten generations."

His father was glaring daggers at him. "You shame me Draco, by bringing this matter to my attention in the presence of the proposed party."

"Father… please… Let this be the last favor you ever grant me." Pansy squeezed his hand and he said resolutely, "truly Father, the last."

"It is fine by me Lucius." Mr. Parkinson said happily. He stood and poured his father some more whiskey. "I do however understand your hesitation. Talks are not so easy to break… I imagine the Notts will be most displeased. But think of it my friend, the last completely pure lines of the two oldest and wealthiest families, united as one."

His mother patted his father on the arm. "Lucius, dear… it is a different age. We have no real need for an alliance with the Greengrass family. Let him have the woman he wants. Their children will be most beautiful."

His father sat down in his large leather armchair and took a swig of the Firewhiskey. Leveling his angry gaze at Draco, he drawled heavily, "very well, Draco… the last favor. You will accompany me to the Greengrass residence to break off the talks." His father turned to Mr. Parkinson. "Cassius, please accompany me into my study. We can discuss terms."

Draco pulled Pansy from the room and back to the Veranda; back to their swing.

They sat quietly, watching the shadowy peacocks trotting through the yard, each trying to absorb what this now meant for them. Pansy leaned up against him, entwining her fingers with his own. "You just sacrificed so much, Draco." She kissed his cheek soundly. "When we're married, I'll always remember this. I'll… I'll be the perfect wife… just like your mother."

"It was a fair sacrifice to avoid Greengrass." He joked dryly, but brushed his thumb across her knuckles to reassure that there was more to it than that. "I don't need you to be the perfect wife… or like my mother… especially not like my mother. Just be your normal self and that… well, that will always be enough for me." Did I just say that?

Pansy giggled at his cheesy line and got up, grabbing both of his hands to pull him back into the house. She lead him down the long richly carpeted south wing corridor to… oh no. Pansy pushed open the Great Ballroom's doors and ran inside with a squeal of laughter. He moaned as she tapped her wand against the bandstand and the full orchestra of instruments jumped into the air to tune themselves.

She twirled over to him like a ballerina, arms out in a circle in front of her. "Dance with me Draco!"

"You know I hate to dance."

"I know you hate to dance with Madame Truvotski." Pansy grinned at him as she took his hand and placed it around her waist. "Dance with me… to celebrate."

Draco groaned, "Must I?"

The orchestra started to play and she fell against him, planting a little kiss on the side of his mouth. "Yes."

The strings started to pluck and the horns alighted into a Spanish trill. Salsa? Really? As they started to step and twist hips in time to the beat, he whispered into her ear, "You know, you didn't have to dye your hair like hers to get me to notice you. I've always liked yours."

Pansy smirked and grabbed the back of his neck as he dipped her. "Parkinson women always get what they want. This was what you wanted… and I wanted you."

0000

She closed the car door and put on her belt. "Dad… do you think she's okay?"

"I'm sure she's fine GinBug," her father said rationally, firing the ignition of their Ford Anglia.

Ginny fiddled nervously with her sunhat. "But… why hasn't she written? Circe could make the trip from Surrey to Devon in an hour or two. It's not like her… we wrote a letter to each other at least once a week, even when she was … sick… if that's actually what she was, Ron."

"Oi," moaned Ron from the front seat. "Harry wants to tell you herself. Pipe down already. And I bet there's a perfectly normal reason for why she hasn't written. Besides, it was Errol that delivered our letters… so she probably hasn't gotten any either!" He tried to smile at her reassuringly, but she could tell he was just as worried as she was.

Ginny sat back and tried to relax as the car trundled off down the country lane. She found some small solace in picturing Harry's face when she arrived at her first ever birthday party. Ginny had iced the chocolate cake with strawberry cream, made with the juice of berries right from the patch. The icing, which she had made herself, was surprisingly good… according to Ron… so maybe that didn't mean that much as he would avidly eat anything besides corned beef and bananas.

For a present, she had helped her mum make Harry a new dress. It looked very much like the one she wore already, except that it was light green and had little shoulder strappies instead of sleeves. Ginny had tried it on and they had fixed all the little uncomfortable bits until it was absolute heaven to wear.

Ginny's charm started to move after about an hour of driving. They were close enough that when the car shifted directions, it would spin ever so slightly. She stared excitedly out the window at the cookie cutter suburban houses that all looked exactly the same. How odd. They only have one chimney.

Her father spun the wheel. "Ah lovely. Here we are then."

They passed by little stone sign that read Privet Drive. Ginny saw the fourth house; she couldn't take her eyes off it as they drove in slow motion down the little road. It had a red brick front, white siding, and a chicken-free perfectly maintained lawn.

Ginny opened the car as it was still slowing to a stop, jumped out, smoothed down her yellow sundress, and ran up the little sidewalk to Harry's front door. There was no knocker, but there was a little button on the door frame. Her hand hovered over it. What if she doesn't want to see me? What if she didn't write because… no… I… I won't believe that. She pressed it.

A bell rang out inside the house. There was a few moments pause before the curtains next to the doorframe window parted. A familiar, bony face peered out at her. Harry's Aunt.

The locks on the door clicked, and it swung open. The woman in a blue apron smiled down at her. "Yes… May I help you young lady?"

"Oh, yes, Hello… My name is Ginny Weasley," she said nervously.

The woman nodded. "Very nice to meet you."

She doesn't seem too bad… not like Harry described her. "Oh yes. Thank you. You as well." Harry's aunt nodded again and gazed at her expectantly. "Well, you see today is Harry's Birthday and we've come to pick her up. She hasn't been returning our letters and I've been … we've been very worried."

As soon as she uttered Harry's name, the woman went sheet white and her kind smile turned into something rather ugly. "There… there isn't a Harry Potter in this house!" she spat. "Good day to you."

She started to close the door. Ginny put out a hand to stop it. What! "You're lying! We saw you pick her up at the train station!" she said incredulously. Her charm bracelet was pointing into the house. "I know she's here… I always know where she is!"

The horse-faced woman tried to slam the door on her but Ginny threw her whole body weight behind it, digging her toes into the ground. "And I… I never said Potter!" Why would she lie? The woman was frightened, pushing on the door with all her strength.

Something is… something's wrong! "What have you done to her?" Ginny asked fiercely. She called out into the house, "Harry?"

"I said good day!" Harry's aunt shoved her backward and slammed the door with a great bang.

"NO!" Ginny ran back to the door and pounded on it. There was no answer. Harry… She cried out frantically to the parked car behind her. "DAD!"

Ron and her father got out and sprinted to her. "Dad they won't let me in! Harry's in there and… and they said she wasn't! They've… they've done something!" Her heart was pounding heavily.

Her father placed his wand to his temple and said quietly, "Dumbledore, problem at Privet drive. Hurry." Releasing the wand from his head he pointed it skyward, closed his eyes and cried, "Expecto Patronum!" A blast of silver light shot into the sky. "Move out of the way Ginny." He pushed her behind his body and tapped the door with his wand. It flew open and he strode forward into the house, wand pointing into every corner, of the front hall.

Harry's large uncle barreled out into the hallway. He took them in, beady eyes fixating on her father's wand. His face turned a bright shade of purple. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?"

Dad pushed Ron in the direction of the staircase. "Ron, check upstairs."

Her brother darted up and into one of the several rooms on the second floor, calling out fervently, "Harry! Where are you?"

Her father leveled his wand at the man and growled in the angriest voice she had ever heard him use, "where's Harry? What have you done with her?"

The fat man advanced on them, gesticulating wildly with his pudgy hands. "SHE'S NOT HERE! SHE RAN OFF!"

Ron's cry echoed down the stairs. "DAD! FOUND HARRY'S OWL! IT'S LOCKED UP!"

Her father strode forward and pressed his wand into the man's bulbous chest. "Locked up?"

Harry's uncle backed away quickly, shaking a meaty finger at them. "I DEMAND THAT YOU-"

It seemed Dad had had enough. "Stupefy!"

The bolt of red light slammed into the man and he collapsed with a boom that rocked the whole house. Harry's Aunt shrieked and ran to his side.

Ginny, who had been standing on the door frame, strode into the house, eyes on her wrist. She walked down the hall and when she passed through the hall into the living room, the snitch charm swung around to point back to the staircase. There was a small door about three fourths of her height, right in the middle of the wall that supported the stairs… padlocked shut. It gave off a truly ominous feeling. Harry's cupboard… where she spent her whole life. "Dad! Look…" Her charm was pointing right at it. "She's in the cupboard!"

Her father pointed his wand and said harshly, "Alohomora." The door opened. He father ran toward it, getting down on a knee to peer inside. "Sweet Merlin!" he cried, turning away his head, putting a hand over his mouth and nose.

What… her legs moved as if made of wood; eyes fixed upon the edge of a ratty mattress and two little black shoes. She got to the frame. The smell emanating from the tiny space was absolutely horrid. Like rot and sweat and excrement. She knelt down at the side.

Her father reached out, trying to close the door. "Wait. Don't-"

Vomit instantly rose in her mouth when she saw her, curled up in a fetal position. She was thin…too thin… skeletal. Her skin was dry, cracked in a large spider web of gashes, her blackened veins clearly visible through the flesh; her dress was covered in what could only be her own excrement; her arms were bruised, resting by her head, one hand swollen to twice the size of the other and out of alignment with her wrist; her lips were parted, deformed, as if they had shriveled. But the worst… was Harry's eyes… dull, half open, lower lids crusted with white buildup, green orbs gazing blankly back at her.

No! "Oh my… Harry?" Ginny frantically tugged at the mattress, pulling it out of the cupboard and down onto the floor. Harry's limp body rolled into her arms, flopping like a rag doll. Her hair, caught in the cracks of her skin, lacked the silky feel that made Ginny want to play with it all day long. She clutched at the matted messy black tresses, shaking Harry lightly, pleading with her. She's… she's just sleeping! "Harry…" She brushed a trembling hand over Harry's little round glasses; over the dry tip of her nose, over her cracked and bloodied lips. "…wake up."

She did not wake.

You can't be. Ginny caressed the girl's cheek and shook her harder. "Oh Harry talk to me…. please… HARRY?!" Ginny buried her head into the familiar crook of Harry's neck, her sobs bubbling up from her chest as her best friend in the world… her sister… lay still. She moaned in a weak voice, "Daddy… she's not breathing!" You can't be dead! Harry…

Her father's hands fell around her waist and started to pull. Ginny screamed as she was parted from her, anguish and denial flooding through her body, suffocating her. She latched onto Harry's arm and the girl was pulled off the bed. "She's not… no!" Let me go!

He shushed her softly, kissing her head, whispering soothingly into her ear. "She's gone baby. There's… there's nothing we can do. H-Hush now. She's… in a better place." He pulled the limp arm from her grasp. As soon as she no longer felt Harry's skin against her own, realization and all consuming despair hit her body like a freight train. She went weak, her heart dropped out of her chest. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead. Harry's dead. They took… she's gone… my only… oh god! Harry!

At her scream, Ron had come thumping back down the stairs, arms containing Circe, Alice, a wand, books, and some clothes. Everything clattered out of his hands when he saw her body. He walked stiffly to her, sunk down, took Harry into his arms, and was silent.

Ginny stared blankly around the room at the pictures of Harry's life… or rather, the lack of pictures of Harry's life. Not anywhere did she see a beautiful white smile. Not anywhere did she see black hair. Not anywhere did she see a pair of brilliant green eyes. All were filled with the same three people: two fat, one thin. They… don't love her like we do. Like I do. They don't… they didn't deserve her!

Harry's aunt was still kneeling over her stunned husband. She didn't even have eyes for her dead niece. Her heart started to beat again, growing in strength until her whole body was pulsing with its rhythm. She struggled against her father, screaming, "YOU!" YOU… KILLED…"

Ginny was suddenly free from his grasp. He cried out and dove for her legs. "Ginny, no!" She dodged around him, ran down the hall, and slammed into the bony woman. YOU KILLED MY HARRY! Ginny's small fists beat into her; her fingernails tore at her eyes and face; her hands pulled at her hair, slamming her head into the ground. The woman shrieked and tried to push her off, but Ginny, despite her smaller size, battered the offending arms away in rage. Even though Harry's Aunt was bleeding heavily, Ginny didn't feel the least bit of satisfaction.

She got in another six good solid punches to the face before a soft, yet commanding voice called out, "that will do, Miss Weasley." Her body froze in place. She rose into the air, soaring backward to hover right next to a very old man in purple robes. She couldn't speak, she couldn't move… only cry.

The old man took Ron by the shoulder and attempted to gently pry Harry's body from his arms. Her brother shrieked and flailed out wildly, throwing his body over Harry's, clutching her tight. The old man sighed and did the same to Ron as he had done to Ginny, saying in a slightly wheezing voice, "I apologize sincerely to both of you."

The man knelt down and gently took Harry's head in his hands. He placed his wand to her temple, muttered, and was silent for what seemed to Ginny like hours. She couldn't see his face, but when he stood and turned to face them, he was… smiling. "Harry lives."

There was a great pressure on the sides of her head; a mighty roar in her ears. She suddenly found that her eyelids were much too heavy to keep open any longer.

She sat in a small space on a ratty mattress, knees to her chest, hand broken, starring at a little light in the shape of two bent spirals that connected to become one. It was so… so… so… squiggle… no, that wasn't it… squiggly? No… coiled… no… complex… no… intricate… no… elaborate… no… elegant… no… evocative… no… It's so beautiful.

Ginny snapped awake. She moaned at the sudden burst of white, almost fluorescent light and threw up an arm to shield her eyes. When her vision adjusted, the first thing she noticed about her surroundings was that she was neither at Number Four Privet Drive nor The Burrow. She was in a chair… in a hall that smelled obscenely clean.

The second thing she noticed was the rather large, brightly colored, eyesore of a logo that sat directly in front of her. In its center were a bone and a wand, crossed like swords on a coat of arms. At the top were large neon green letters that read 6TH FLOOR: EMERGENCY CARE, while at the bottom, there were much smaller letters that read, ST. MUNGO'S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES AND INJURIES.

The third thing she noticed was the presence of a head on her shoulder… Ron's head… to be exact. He gave an almighty snore right in her ear. Ginny rolled her eyes.

The fourth thing she noticed was a door in front of which both of her parents paced.

And then she realized why she was sitting in a chair… in a hall that smelled obscenely clean… in the St. Mungo's Emergency Ward. 'Harry lives.'

Her heart flipped. "HARRY!" Ginny jumped up, waking Ron violently, and bolted toward the door. Her father caught her up in his arms before she could get to it. "NO! DAD LET ME GO!"

"They're still working Ginny! Calm down." She squirmed violently, but his hold on her did not relinquish.

"No! I have to see her now! Daddy, please! Let me go. I-"

As if the universe heard her cries, the door beside them opened and three healers in green robes walked out, talking of impossibilities and miracles. Ginny saw her. Her naked body was in a single solitary spotlight in what was otherwise a pitch black room. The old man from the house stood beside her bed. He gestured them in, pulling up the covers to hide all but Harry's head from view.

Her father carried her into the room and sat her on the edge of the bed. Harry's skin was once again, flawless alabaster; her weight, healthy; her arm, whole; her lips, full. Her chest rose and fell softly. Her eyes fluttered beneath closed lids. She's… she's really alive.

Ginny crawled forward to embrace the girl, but the old man held out his arm. "Not quite yet, my dear. Harry hasn't fully recovered. The magic is still clearing toxins from her body."

"Good lord Albus," said her father in astonishment. "What happened to her? She wasn't breathing when we found her. Her heart had… had stopped. How on earth is she alive?"

The man, who she assumed was Albus Dumbledore, leaned back against the wall. He looked very old, very sad, and very… tired. "Alas Arthur, I do not think I could bring myself to tell you the whole of it."

Ginny turned to fully look into his eyes and said quietly, "tell me… please."

Dumbledore leveled her with a most appraising stare and after a moment, nodded. "Harry was isolated from you since the beginning of the summer. Her owl locked away, and, for unknown reasons, did not receive any of the letters sent to her." Damn't Errol! "Two weeks ago she was attacked by her cousin and his friends, one of which broke her wrist. When he did so, her magic reacted most violently. When the news reached Petunia's and Vernon's ear, they responded in kind, locking her in the cupboard for… fifteen days I believe. Thankfully, dehydration is not too painful. The brain releases a chemical that acts as a natural anesthetic. Harry's death was… quiet."

"HER DEATH?" cried Ron. "But… but… she's…" He trailed off gesturing towards Harry.

The man nodded and smiled. "Yes… quite… and thank Merlin for that. Harry's death was in body only. We easily restored the physical damage. I cannot say for sure how she managed to save her mind. I do not believe she knows… or if she was even responsible for it. While her veins and heart dried out, her brain ran on magic… her soul ran on magic. She existed only in magic. I could go into a very long, wheezing explanation about magic augmentation and mind magics and willpower, but I think it is easier to simply say that Harry here… had a very strong will to live and too strong of a connection to this world… to let it go so easily. In short, she was either saved… or she saved herself." Dumbledore reached out a hand to pull the covers up to Harry's chin, whispering softly to her, "indeed… you are quite the most remarkable young woman I've ever had the chance to meet. I promised I would keep a closer watch on you Harry and I have already utterly failed in that regard. I hope, one day, you will forgive me for causing you such a truly unhappy birthday."

"I'm sure she already does," said Ginny, smiling softly at Harry.

Dumbledore straightened and gave her that same appraising look. "Thank you Miss. Weasley. That is most interesting of you to say."

Ginny didn't quite know what that meant… but she wrote it off. He is getting on a bit, after all.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Very well. The Dursley family and I are long overdue to sit down for some tea and have a nice long chat. I will return in the morning, but for now I leave Harry in the very capable hands of friends." He walked around the bed and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Miss Weasley, it is vital that she not be touched for several more hours until the magic repairs her kidneys and liver. Can I trust you to not act rashly?"

Ginny nodded rapidly. "Yes sir."

"Then I bid you all a warm farewell. Arthur, walk with me if you would." Dumbledore and her father left the room swiftly.

Ginny sat down in the closest chair next to Harry's bed, whilst Ron sat in the next. Her mother sighed, "Don't get too comfy, we need to head home soon. It's quite late."

"I'm staying!" she and Ron said simultaneously.

Mum scoffed and said, "You most certainly are not! Come al-"

Ginny cut in. "Mum… you are either going to let me stay, or stun me and take me home over your shoulder. I'm… I'm not leaving. No punishment on earth will change my mind." Ron nodded his agreement.

Mum spluttered a bit and gave her the oddest look. "Oh… oh alright. Your father was going to stay anyway." She sighed and left the room as well.

Ron took her hand in his, squeezing tightly. He gave a great yawn and lay back to close his eyes. Ginny, feeling her own exhaustion creep up on her, put her head down upon his shoulder to try and get some rest.

But… the hours passed slowly for her. Trying to sleep was useless as every fifteen minutes Harry would make little mewling noises that had Ginny up and at her bedside in a flash. Sleeping in the chair wasn't very comfortable and Ron's snores didn't help matters either. She wanted nothing more than to get up on that bed with Harry… but she wouldn't.

CRACK

I was so close to sleep! It took a moment for her eyes to readjust to the light. When they did however, she was met by a very strange sight. On Harry's bed, not two feet from Ginny's head… was a house-elf. It had large green eyes the size of tennis balls, was dressed in what had to be a pillowcase… and it was reaching out a finger… to touch Harry.

"No! Get away," she whispered heatedly, diving for the little creature. The elf's hand was not but an inch from Harry's face when there was an almighty shriek. Ginny froze. I know that voice…

Harry's eyes, deep emerald green, bright and fully alive, were open… staring right at her as she dangled the elf by a leg. Her friend reached up and brushed the palm of her hand against Ginny's cheek.

"Gin?" Harry asked weakly.

0000

"Leave me alone Dudley."

"I shan't until you clean my room."

"I mean it."

"Oooo you mean it, do you? What are you going to do if I don't?"

"Higgery Piggery Porkery Pop!"

"YOU CAN'T! DAD SAID-"

"FIGGERY BIGGERY DORKERY SLOP!"

"MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMM!"

Harry watched him run back down the path toward the town with satisfaction.

"It'ss pleassant outsside today."

She snorted. The month of July had decided to be extremely ill-tempered this year, thus… it was hot. It was in fact… disgustingly hot. Little Whinging looked like a shimmering mirage in the haze of refracted light. Harry trooped morosely down the well-trod dirt path, bangs sticking to her face, her chest almost visible through her dress from sweat. I need to buy some clothes. One white dress for the rest of my life just isn't going to cut it. Especially if there's another summer like this one. She held out a hand, letting it brush through the tops of the tall wild orchids that ran along either side of the path.

Thankfully, Privet Drive's playground was abandoned. Harry walked over to her favorite swing and plopped down, clutching the hot sun-baked chains tightly for support. The little quill on her wrist brushed through her hair as it spun to face east. Four weeks… She dragged her foot through the dirt as the swing rocked her gently back and forth. Four bloody weeks and not a single letter from anyone. Maybe she's not… maybe they're not writing because I'm not either.

Uncle Vernon had padlocked Circe into her cage the second they had arrived home. After she had retrieved her clothing, he had then locked away her trunk, books, wand, and broomstick into the cupboard. A few days later, Harry had used one of her rare 'use Aunt Petunia's bath' opportunities to deftly pick the lock with a bobby pin, retrieve Alice, her wand, and a few important books she'd need for her summer homework.

Or maybe Errol is sick… or- or maybe they ran out of ink!

Yeah… "Why doesn't she write to me Alice? Why don't Ron and Hermione?"

Alice slid out of the dress pocket that Hermione had expanded for her on the inside. Harry was so glad that she had given the girl The Standard Book of Spell's grades two and three for Christmas. I should start reading ahead too… He… he was just playing with me. Harry let the snake curl onto her fingers.

"Perhapss they have gone to Brazil."

"Yeah… perhaps." Harry rubbed Alice's chin. The little thing hummed lazily as it coiled about her hands and she couldn't stop from smiling. "Do you miss him then?" 'Miss.' Yet another word to be added to the list.

Despite the English word, she seemed to understand and hissed, "I often wissh he wass pressent, Chica. Alphonze wass my mate for sseveral birthing sseasonss. I had many eggss. He wass my ally. Yet, we do not mate for life and I have found a new ally. One who will not leave me behind."Alice's tongue darted out several times onto her thumb.

"Never." Harry raised Alice to her face, planting a soft little kiss on the top of her head.

"Wow Potty. You really are a freak aren't you?" said a drawling malevolent voice from right behind her.

Harry jumped and whirled around, smoothly pulling out her wand with her right hand while Alice raised herself and hissed menacingly from her left. He leant against one of the poles that held the swing-set.

Draco… blue eyes… nastier smirk. I hate you.

She remembered the last comment he had made to her, which was, unsurprisingly, along similar lines. "Go away Piers.

"Now now, I just want to catch up with an old friend." He cracked his knuckles threateningly.

In an impressively accurate imitation of Draco, Harry drawled, "It is so nice to see that you've learned how to bully without Malcolm and Dudley around."

Piers smirk vanished and she boldly continued. "You're such a coward. You used to be a good person Piers. Now you're just like them because you're scared they'll treat you like they used to. Tell me, as Dudley beat you senseless out behind the school that day, did he use the "hands on your throat, fists to the gut," or the "sits on your chest and pummels your jaw?"

Piers eyes widened for a split second before narrowing in anger. "Shut it you stupid cunt. You don't know jack. Besides… they'll be along shortly. We've missed playing our favorite game." He laughed, pushed himself of the pole, sneering as he advanced on her.

Quirrell swatted away her leg locker curse as if it were an annoying gnat. His face was curled in a twisted smile, as he strode purposefully toward her.

She backpeddled quickly, an explosion curse on the tip of her lips. "Get away from me. Now."

Piers' sneer became feral. "Or what? You'll poke me with a stick? You'll sick your tiny snake on me? I could rip it in half. Would you enjoy that Potty? "

Quirrell leant against a pillar, twirling his wand between his fingers. "Did you enjoy that Potter? I did."

She whispered in a deadly voice; a voice dripping with all the malice she felt for Quirrell and Voldemort. "Get the bloody hell away from me Piers." Great gusts of wind swirled past them.

Piers laughed coldly and his blue eyes blazed. "Oooo I see. Harry's a Potty-mouth now. How fitting." He was angry… too angry. He had the same look on his face now as he did when she rejected his invitation last summer. Furious... and hurt.

Harry almost laughed… almost. "So that's what this is about? You stupid berk! Maybe if you had been nice to me more than twice in six years, I would have said yes!"

He reeled back as if he'd been slapped. She would've ranted more, had Dudley and Malcolm not just appeared over the ridge behind Piers. Stuffing Alice and her wand hastily into her pocket, she turned and ran as fast as she could back down the dirt path.

Malcolm's slow, breaking voice cried out, "GET HER!"

Harry bolted down the road as fast as her worn-out patent leather shoes could carry her, looking for anything that she could use to escape. She was almost back to Privet Drive when a hand latched onto her wind-tossed hair and pulled sharply backward.

Quirrell grabbed her hair and wrenched upward. "Potter, tell the truth, what did you see?"

She cried out as she was wrenched down to the ground. Someone kicked her hard in the stomach. Imaginary spidery hands pinched her body, roughly grabbed at her knickers. Invasive fingers pushed at her folds. Sobbing, she grabbed frantically at the hands that held her hair

"You deserve it," whispered Piers hotly. He stomped on her chest.

No I- I don't! Harry's core was pulsing. Her skin was burning. She curled into a ball to avoid more blows, yelling, pleading with him. "STOP IT. PIERS PLE-

"Freak!" His foot collided with her hand… it snapped backwards unnaturally.

Her magic exploded with her scream.

Three loud squeals echoed out from around her. There was a bang of something hitting metal trashcans, a jangling of a wire fence, a dull thud… and then silence.

Crying steadily from the pain of her broken wrist, she opened her eyes. The three boys were all groaning in pain twenty feet away; Piers by the trashcans, Dudley by the fence, and Malcolm face down in the dirt.

Cradling her wrist, Harry got up and ran before they regained their bearings. She sprinted the half mile back to Number Four, threw open the door, and darted up to her room. Panting heavily, she pulled out Alice and her wand. "You okay?" she whispered.

"A little bruissed… but I will live." Alice darted her tongue out against Harry's rapidly swelling wrist and oddly bent hand. "What of you?"

Wiping her eyes with her good hand, she hissed back softly, "don't talk about it. I'm trying to ignore it." She wrenched open the loose floorboard under her bed. "You need to hide. I don't know if Dudley saw you or not."

A few seconds after she had replaced the floorboard, Uncle Vernon burst into the room with a mad gleam in his eye. He thrust a letter into her hands and said harshly, "Read it."

Dear Miss Potter,

We have received intelligence that you used a powerful wandless knockback jinx outside your place of residence this evening at fifteen minutes past seven. Given your age and its magnitude, we have concluded that it was accidental. A magic reversal squad will arrive shortly to remove the memories of two Muggle witnesses, not including your cousin as his direct relation to you and previous knowledge of magic, exempts him from the process.

As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, but as this incident was accidental, we ask you only to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statue of Secrecy.

We also ask you to remember that directly performing spells outside of school, may lead to expulsion. (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C)

Enjoy your holidays!

Yours Sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

-IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE-

-Ministry of Magic-

Harry looked up from the letter, trembling at the sight of glee on her uncle's face.

"You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school," he said fiercely. "Forgot to mention it… Slipped your-"

"DAD! DAD! HARRY USED MAGIC ON ME!" She heard Dudley's pounding feet racing up the stairs, quicker than she ever thought he could move. He rushed into the room, wheezing, his blubber shaking and heaving. "DAD! SHE BLEW ME BACKWARD, I SWEAR!"

Uncle Vernon's large sausage fingers clamped down around her neck. His face was turning a bright shade of purple. "You… magiced… my…. Dudley?" Despite his rage, his voice was very quiet, which made Harry absolutely terrified.

"You saw the letter Uncle Vernon! I'm sorry! They broke my wrist! It was an acci-grch."

Uncle Vernon's hand cut off her windpipe as he picked her up by the throat and dragged her out of the room, down the stairs, and past a worried looking Aunt Petunia. Not worried for me of course. He wrenched open the cupboard door and threw her roughly inside, her head slamming into a familiar foe… coat rail.

The door was closed behind her; the key turned in the lock. Locked in the cupboard. That's not half as bad as I was expecting.

The first day without food or water or the ability to go to the bathroom wasn't too bad. She had opened her trunk and dug around for the left over gift candy that she, Ron, Hermione, and Neville had not been able to consume on the train. The second day wasn't too bad either, but she needed water. On the third day she had screamed; banged; yelled. On the fourth day she had knocked; pleaded; cried tears of salt; called out to God, Merlin, and whatever else was out there. On the fifth day, Harry realized that they weren't going to let her out. Harry in the cupboard. Out of sight and out of mind. She would never see her friends again. She would never see Ginny again. She tried to use her magic to open the door, but she was too weak, too hungry, and too thirsty to do anything more than make it rattle. On the sixth day, Harry lost control of her muscles, including those around her bowels. And on the seventh day… she lost track of time.

…

Harry stood on white shores. Wind blew, the moon shone, the sun rose, and the stars twinkled. The beach was calm… it was infinite… it was the entire world forever and ever. Crystal pink water swirled at her feet; water that called to her… pulled her down into the sand and foam. A thousand- thousand voices whispered in listlessness. She couldn't think, she couldn't move, she couldn't breathe. She just… was. She spent her milliseconds and splitseconds and seconds and minutes and hours and days and years and eternities… looking at a small light on her arm. It consumed her; she existed in it; she danced in its warmth with wild abandon. It's… squiggle. It's so… so… so… so… squiggle. It's so…

so…

squiggle…

…

…chime…

…

"Yes… May I help you young lady?"

"Oh, yes, Hello. My name is Ginny Weasley."

…quill…

"Very nice to meet you."

"Oh yes. Thank you. You as well. Well, you see today is Harry's Birthday and we've come to pick her up. She hasn't been returning our letters and I've been … we've been very worried."

"There… there isn't a Harry Potter in this house! Good day to you."

"You're lying! We saw you pick her up at the train station! I know she's here. I always know where she is! And I… I never said Potter! What have you done to her! Harry?

"I SAID GOOD DAY."

"NO! DAD!"

…

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?"

"Ron, check upstairs."

…grass...

"Harry! Where are you?"

"Where's Harry? What have you done with her?"

"SHE'S NOT HERE! SHE RAN OFF."

"DAD! FOUND HARRY'S OWL! IT'S LOCKED UP!"

"Locked up?"

"I DEMAND THAT YOU-"

"Stupefy!"

"Dad! Look… She's in the cupboard!

"Alohomora."

"Sweet Merlin! Wait. Don't-"

"Oh my… Harry? Harry… wake up. Oh Harry talk to me…. please… HARRY?! Daddy… she's not breathing! She's not… no! YOU! YOU… KILLED…

"Ginny, no!"

…fruit…

…

She stepped from the water onto a path. The stone path wound through a mass of begonias and lilies to a little white door. The wood was cool against her hands. It opened slowly, releasing a pleasant, well-worn creak. She heard music playing inside; a light jazzy number with a bass line that seeped into her bones, creating an urge to tap her feet in time to the rhythm. It beckoned her forward, welcoming her into the small hallway with white shag carpet that tickled her bare feet. The hall entered into a cozy living room with blue walls, covered in paintings and moving picture frames. One such little frame beside her, showed… herself… taking her white dress from Aunt Marge. The eyes of her younger visage sparkled with delight as she ran her hands over the fabric.

She saw pictures all around the room that contained bits of her life. She saw herself sitting on the bench with Ginny at King's Cross for the first time; saw a picture of Ron with his arm around her; saw herself huddled next to Hermione as they shared a book. Her whole life sat before her.

Her whole life and… two people… two very familiar people… They were dancing and laughing in the center of the room, embracing tightly. She had thought on their faces often since that night with the Mirror of Erised. When the short redheaded woman spun to face her… a pair of familiar green eyes widened in shock. She patted the tall messy black-haired man excitedly on the back. "James! She's… she's here!"

"Who's here?" he asked in a rolling baritone.

"Harry, you silly prat!" She forcibly turned James around to face her.

A wide smile broke across his face and he beamed at her warmly. "Hullo love."

Harry's sob caught in her throat as she squeaked out, "M-Mum? Dad?" Here they are… right in front of me… happy to see me.

Her mum ran forward, kneeling down to pull her into her lap, squeezing her tight. "Oh my baby. I've missed you darling. You're so grown up."

Tears fell from Harry's eyes, half from joy and half from anguish. She was overwhelmed; her knees gave way and she collapsed against her mother's soft body. "H-How? Am I…"

Her father said quietly, "I don't think so... you're just… well, I think you're sitting on the line. Don't worry about it, love. We're together for now."

Harry nodded rapidly. "Together. We're… we're together now." She pulled back from her mother and reached out cautiously to touch her face. When her fingers reached her mother's skin, she pulled back as if electrocuted. The skin was solid… it was there. You couldn't truly touch in dreams could you? Her mother grabbed her hand tightly and held it to her lips. But… wait… this… this isn't… they're gone. "Oh Mum. Why did… why did you have to leave me behind?" Her mother's startlingly green eyes moistened and Harry rubbed her fists fiercely against her own. "Why didn't you just… we could have been together here… we could've been a… a family."

Shaking her head, her mother pulled Harry tight. "No love… don't say that. I gave my life for you gladly baby. Being able to watch my little girl grow up, even if it's from here, is worth a thousand of my lifetimes. And… it was cruel what was done to us… but we're still a family… even though we're apart."

Harry pawed at her neck, sobbing into her mother's blouse. "But I- I miss you!"

Dad knelt down beside her, wrapping his arms around the both of them. His large hand cupped her cheek, thumb wiping away her tears. "Harriet… we're so sorry for all the pain you've been through, that we couldn't be there for you. It kills me… no pun intended… that I couldn't take care of you… that I could only sit on the side line and watch." Her mother slapped him lightly on the arm in chastisement.

She couldn't help but laugh amongst her violent sobs.

Mum leant her head down to rub her nose on Harry's. "Oh Harry. We love you so much, baby. To see you here, it… it warms, yet breaks my heart. I'll never forgive my sister."

Harry shook her head, tears and hair flying all over. "It… It doesn't matter. Mummy… Daddy… I can't believe…" She nuzzled her mother's neck. "I… I love you too!"

Dad stood and picked her up from her mother's embrace. He brushed Harry's hair back behind her ears and smiled at Mum. "You look just like your mum when we met on the train… full of that same fire." Grinning, he searched her face wildly and said under his breath, "Merlin, you are a beautiful little bugger aren't you… certainly didn't get it from me. I hate that I won't be able to embarrass you in front of all your would-be suitors. Maybe Sirius will be up for the job, if he ever gets out of that hellhole." His fingers dug into the back of her knees. That was the end of her tears. She shrieked in laughter, squirming, and her father mercifully relented. "Ah yes… the Potter knees. Woe to you if anyone ever finds out about them."

"Ginny and Ron already torture me," she said breathlessly. She raked a hand along his forehead, poking in certain places to make sure he was actually there. He is. Harry grinned and took off her dad's glasses, switching them for her own. Laughing to herself, she said quietly. "Wow Dad… you're blinder than I am… No wonder you were a chaser."

Her mum snorted and her father's mouth went a little slack.

"OHO! Someone's britches are a bit big aren't they? Not five minutes pass and you already think you're better at Quidditch then your dear ol' Dad. Young people these days. Honestly, what is the world coming to?" He sighed overdramatically, grinned, and kissed her cheek. "There's no doubt about it Lils. She's mine alright."

"No one else's." Mum said lovingly. She leaned up on tiptoes to kiss him and Harry's heart lurched a little as her parents' lips touched. It was gentle, well practiced, and passionate. It was beautiful… but she still felt slightly embarrassed to be witnessing them snogging. Now I know how Ginny feels when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley get into a moment.

She felt her cheeks heat up as their kiss became more intense. "Hey… quit."

They smiled against each other's mouths and pulled away. "Well, at least we get to embarrass you a little," said her father happily. His grin was infectious. "So… Harry… how about a fly?"

Mum tutted him. "Really James? However little time we have with her and you want to spend it flying?"

"I don't mind," said Harry enthusiastically.

Her father grinned even wider, looking triumphantly at Mum. She gave a little gesture of defeat, but smiled, leaning up to kiss Harry's nose. "Of course you don't. You're definitely your father's daughter… well, alright." Her father whooped. "But really… be quick about it James… there are things that need to be said."

The sky and land stretched uninterrupted as far as the eye could see. Clouds drifted lazily, birds sang sweetly, and Harry flew circles around her father. When they were back on the ground, he picked her up and whirled her around, shouting excitedly, "MY DAUGHTER WILL PLAY FOR ENGLAND!"

As they marched back toward the house, Harry, piggybacking on her father's shoulders, felt happier than she had ever been in her whole life… yet also… just as sad. She whispered into his neck, "Dad… is this real?"

Her father sighed heavily and hitched her higher up onto his back. "Who's to say, Harriet? It's a question I've always pondered; one that I ask Lily constantly. I'd like to think the answer is yes. I'd like to think that you're my little girl. I'd like to think that the beautiful woman in that house is my Lils. But the truth is… I could be a figment of your imagination just as easily as you could be a figment of mine. For all I know, neither of you are really here."

She clutched at his collar. "I'm here Dad! I promise!"

He had started to cry, just as she had. "That's the same thing your mother tells me. The same thing my father and mother tell me. But it doesn't matter. All that really matters is that it's real to us; that we know in our hearts that we loved each other in life; that we still love each other and we feel that love in our bones. Who's to say that the love I feel for you right now… here in this place… is any less real than what I felt for you when we were alive. You know that we loved you; that we still love you even though we're gone. You can feel it… can't you?"

She could. "I love you too Daddy and… and I think it's real. It has to be!"

Her father wiped his eyes with his shirt. "Me too baby. Me too."

Her tears were heavy… on her eyes and on her heart. "I saw you in the Mirror… and you looked just the same as you do now… just the same as you did in the photo album that Hagrid gave me. How could you not be real? And Dad… you saw me in the cupboard didn't you? And then… I came here! When… if I wake up… I'll… I'll wave to you so… so next time… next time we see each other… we'll know this was real… that it's all real… won't we?"

They sank down to the ground just outside the little cabin. Her father swung her around to his front and hugged her tight. "I don't… I don't know sweetheart. Who's to say?" His eyes were closed, a pained expression smeared across his handsome face.

He held her forehead to his own, soothing her, stroking her hair. It had the opposite of the desired effect. Harry's tears built into hysterical sobs. She needed to know this was real… that these were indeed her parents... parents that truly loved her. Pounding on his chest… his real… solid chest, she cried out, "BUT IT… IT HAS TO BE! I MISS YOU SO MUCH! I WANT YOU TO BE REAL! PLEASE!"

Another hand fell softly on her head. "Then it's real Harry." Her mother had come out of the house. "Don't let your father get you down into one of his 'are we here, are we there' rants." She kissed Dad solidly again. "I do love you Prongs… but you can be so melodramatic sometimes. It must be a Potter thing." Her mother tweaked their noses and cupped her father's cheek. "Heaven, the afterlife, the great beyond… whatever this is… it wouldn't be so cruel as to keep me from you James. Whatever this is, it wouldn't be so cruel as to force us to watch our daughter going through such terrible pain if it wasn't truly happening. It's absolutely real… as I tell you every time we make love." She smirked impishly. "And come on… doesn't that seem pretty realistic?"

Harry's tears had trailed off as her mother's smooth voice calmed the both of them, and when those last words came, her eyes widened with shock. "Um Ewww? I'm sitting right here."

Her mother ran her hand down through Harry's hair. "No one but our daughter would say something like that to us James. Not even a figment of your imagination." Her parents kissed once again and they fell backwards, hands roaming all over. Dad ran his palm over her breast and they both moaned heavily. Scandalized, Harry squeaked nervously and covered her eyes.

"Love you," said her mother quietly.

"Love you too Lils. I understand but… like Harry, I just… I want this to be real. I can't bear the thought of not being with you."

"Then it's real. Harry, come here baby." Harry uncovered her eyes and crawled to the spot where they had fallen in their passion. Mum took her arm and pulled her between them. "I love you both so much. You know it in your hearts." She wrapped all of their hands together and held them tight. "Harry… I think your time here is almost up. So we need to talk. I have so much motherly advice I never got to give you. Here goes… We'll always be with you sweetie and don't you ever doubt it. Be true to yourself. Be true to your friends." Her mother, grimacing slightly, said, "Don't take grief from anyone Harry… unless you know you deserve it."

Her father cut in. "Don't settle for someone you don't love and don't let anyone stop you from pursuing someone that you do. Trust your friends… even… even if they're not trustworthy. Forgive their mistakes. Forgive their faults." Her parents shared an intense look that Harry didn't understand. "And Harry, listen to Sirius. His story needs to be told."

"Sirius… wait! Do you mean my Godfather? Mr. Weasley made it sound like… you know."

Her father nodded solemnly. "Technically, he's as good as. When the time comes… just listen… he loved you as we did. And… he could again."

Her mother hugged her tight. "Almost time. Work hard in school. Go easy on… well, don't hold it against Severus. He's a troubled man. If you ever… if you ever have a chance, tell him I forgive him. That girl, Ginny, be good to her. She depends on you so much, looking to you for strength when she cannot find it within herself. Brush your teeth more often. I know you've been skipping in the morning young lady. Those pearly whites won't last forever if you don't. Don't let Petunia push you around. She was always doing it to me. Oh and very importantly… string side down… you'll know what I mean. Anything else James?"

"Lots more… but there isn't enough time in the world to get through it all. Let's see… Don't underestimate Transfiguration. Make plenty of mischief. Get sloshed at least once while you're at school. Quidditch is always more important than schoolwork. Scrub behind your ears. Don't mix asphodel and powdered bat wing. Buy plenty of socks. That money in our vault will last lifetimes… so go crazy." He winked at her. "And… well, be happy. There's always a brighter side of life, even when things are at their worst. Oh and Harry? Promise me that you won't underestimate Peter."

Harry felt very strange… as if she was in two places at once… as if she was teetering on a tightrope. Mum grabbed her shoulders. "We love you Harriet…forever and ever. If you meet Him again… tell him Lily and James Potter are waiting for him on the other side... and we're not happy."

She watched miserably as her parents started to fade. "No wait! Mum! Dad! I don't want to go yet!"

Her mum reached out to brush the hair out of Harry's face. "We'll… we'll see you again."

Her father wiggled her big toe with his fingers. "Proud of you, Prongslet."

Everything went fuzzy. The green specks that were her mum's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

Harry shrieked. A tiny little man with bulbous eyes and bat-like ears was dangling upside down, right in front of her face. His feet were held by a hand. A freckled, pale hand. Her eyes followed the arm, up to the shoulder with a little yellow strap that held up a yellow sundress. Two amber, gold flecked eyes gazed down at her in shock.

She raised an arm to touch the girl's soft cheek. "Gin?" Her voice was weak, like a croak, a moan, and a whisper all rolled into one.

"Harry!" Ginny dropped the creature onto the floor. There was a loud CRACK, but Harry only barely registered it as her best friend clambered up onto the bed. Harry suddenly found herself being thoroughly squeezed in the tightest hug the girl had ever given her. Ginny's hair tickled her nose and she could feel tears dripping onto her neck.

A terrible ache somewhere deep in her chest disappeared. "Hey Ginny. I missed you." Harry snaked her arms around Ginny's waist, sinking into the embrace, bathing in the warmth of her body and the scent of strawberries in her hair. This was the first friendly touch she had received since they last hugged at the station. And Ginny's… well, Ginny's was the touch she desired to feel above all others. The redhead's body heaved against her own. 'She depends on you so much.' Harry squeezed back reassuringly. Harry whispered into her ear, "What's wrong Gin? I've never… I've never seen you cry before."

"Harry…" Slowly, the girl on top of her pushed herself up, nose dragging against Harry's cheek. Their faces were inches away and a little tear fell on her lips. Ginny brushed the tip of her nose on Harry's, just like… just like Mum had done. "… You were… dead. We-We found you… and you…you were dead. I held… I held you in my arms! I thought I'd never… oh Harry!" She crushed herself back down to give Harry a fierce hug.

Harry had died. She remembered it. She remembered when her heart had slowed to a halt. She remembered when the veil fell away and the little coil of light had consumed her. She remembered the white shores and their cottage. It was real Dad… It had to be. She raised a hand from Ginny's back and waved at the spotlight shining down at her. Till… till next time. Harry let the hand fall back into Ginny's hair and she whispered softly, "yeah but… I'm here now.

Ginny nodded into Harry's neck but couldn't stop crying. Like a yawn, her heaving sobs were contagious. "Gin…" Harry moaned through her tears. "Don't… don't cry. We're together again yeah?" She turned her head and pressed her lips into the red hair. "I… I know though. I used to… I used to see you…everyday… when I was afraid of… of my wand… and my magic. Whenever I cast spells I… I would see you hurt… dead… and I was always the one holding the wand. So I know… you know?"

Cuddling into her, Ginny muttered something unintelligible, face pressed into the pillow. Harry pulled her over so she was lying directly on top of her body, once again face to face. "What?"

Ginny's eyes were puffy and red and her bottom lip trembled with her shuddering breaths. When she spoke, her words were interspersed with little hiccupping sobs. "I… love… you… Harry. Don't… you ever… die… again."

Although it was spoken platonically, Harry's stomach still did flips. Her heart still raced. No one had ever said those three words to her. Not once in her life. Except… except Mum and Dad… It was real. It was real. It was real. It had to be. Ginny's breath fell heavily on her cheek. Harry found her hand and entwined their fingers. "Gin I… I love you too… and I'll try not to die again. I promise. I could come haunt you as a ghost if I do though."

Ginny sat up, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. That's better. She wiped her eyes and shoved Harry in the shoulder. "You'd better," she demanded in a half laugh-half sob, breasts jiggling lightly as she… jiggling?

"Oi! What's with these?" Harry poked her in her chest and Ginny giggled, slapping her hand away. "You're bubbies are bigger than mine! That's not fair! I'm older!"

Ginny slid off of her waist and lay down next to her, placing her freckled chin on Harry's shoulder. "It's not my fault. You've seen Mum... blame her. Besides, you're only three months older than me!"

Harry grumbled and raised the cover to observe her still relatively flat chest. "Still."

Ginny peeked in and said, "hmmm yours are better shaped. Mine are bigger but they go all pointy." Harry snorted. "Don't make fun! It's… it's been terrible. Mum's noticed and I just about died when she asked me if I 'have any hair down there?' I… well I do… and now I have to go with Mum to The Witching Hour shop in Diagon Alley. I hate that place. Everything is violently pink and smells like it's been soaked in perfume."

"Thought you liked pink?"

Ginny gestured wildly and said, "you don't understand… violently pink!" She grinned. "Mum will probably drag you in too." Harry would have replied, but just at that moment, a tremendous snore from the corner of the room made her jump and she pulled the covers up higher. Ginny patted her arm. "It's just Ron getting his beauty sleep."

Harry laughed… really laughed. She hadn't laughed all summer. Turning to face her, she scooted into the redhead's body. "I missed this… I missed you."

Ginny smiled and closed her eyes, placing an arm around her. "Mmm… missed you too. I'm going to fall asleep now okay?"

"Okay," said Harry, moving over so the other girl could get on the pillow. She wasn't tired at all… as she had just woken from the last and best sleep a person is ever supposed to have, but she lay quietly all the same, letting Ginny's last words bounce about her head. She says that… but she didn't… After a few minutes of silence Harry had to ask. "Gin?"

Ginny breathed into her neck, "mmmmmquaffle."

Harry giggled and placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking lightly. "Gin?"

She moaned and placed a finger to Harry's lips, shushing her sleepily. Harry grinned and nipped it with her teeth. Ginny smirked into the pillow and cracked open an eyelid. "Whaaaat?"

Harry didn't really know how to ask the question without being blunt. She looped a finger into Ginny's hair, twiddling it between her thumb and forefinger. "Well, I… I couldn't write you because the Dursley's locked Circe up, but why… why didn't you write me?"

As soon as she said it, before Ginny could answer, there was another loud CRACK, one Harry could not ignore. At the foot of the bed stood the ugly green eyed creature that had been dangling in front of her face just minutes ago. Harry and Ginny sat up, staring in shock.

Its batlike ears were turned downward and its huge bulbous green eyes were filled with… shame? Nervously shuffling its feet, it stuttered in a ridiculously high pitched voice, "Harry Potter and her Wheezey witch mustn't be angry… Dobby hoped… if Harry Potter had thought her friends had forgotten her… Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, miss." The little thing brought out from behind its pillowcase shirt, a large thick stack of letters.

Ginny gasped. Harry too, could see about fifteen envelopes that said 'Harry' in Ginny's choppy script, as well as a few in Hermione's, Ron's, Neville's, and Hagrid's. Ginny growled. "You stopped our letters!"

The creature… Dobby… as it had called itself, nodded its head apologetically, great ears flapping like windsocks in a hurricane. "Dobby had to, Miss… Dobby must not let Harry Potter go back to Hogwarts this year. It isn't safe."

Ginny's voice crackled with ferocity. "You… you've been stopping them all summer though!"

Dobby nodded his head even harder, bursting into tears as he did so. "Dobby thought… Dobby thought it would make Harry Potter safe."

Before Harry could stop her, Ginny lunged at Dobby.

He vanished with a crack and reappeared on the nightstand next to the bed.

"No, not the Marshmallows Mum!" shouted Ron. "It's Devil's" *SNORE*

She added that to her mental list of things that she could tease Ron about and caught Ginny as she lunged for Dobby once more. "Gin, stop!" Her amber eyes were wild and enraged, flooding with tears. Harry pulled her down into her lap, holding tight as she struggled to get at the little creature. "It's just a couple of letters."

Ginny's fingernails clutched at her bare back. "No but… Harry! That means he knew you were in the cupboard! He's a house elf! He could have unlocked that door with a snap of his fingers!"

Harry leaned back, shocked, and the sheet fell off her. She scambled for it. Had it just been Ginny in the room she wouldn't have bothered… but this little elf thing unnerved her tremendously. She glared at Dobby and asked, "Is… is that true?" The elf nodded. "Then give me a good reason why I shouldn't let her at you?"

"Dobby did it to protect you miss!" squeaked the elf frantically.

Ginny snarled, "Protect her? She died! She literally died! If that's your definition of protection I'd prefer it if you piss off! Whose elf are you anyway?"

The elf's eyes widened with fear. "I… I cannot say, Harry Potter's Wheezey witch."

Harry sighed and held out her hand. "Dobby… why don't you give me my letters… sit down… explain what you're on about, and answer Ginny's question... or I won't listen to a thing you have to say."

The elf had once again burst into tears. "Sit… sit down?""Never has Dobby…been asked… to sit down by a witch! Like an equal!" Dobby wailed at the top of his lungs and fell over onto the nightstand, hugging a small potion bottle to his chest. How is Ron still asleep?

"Oh honestly…" she said, reaching out to gingerly pick up the elf. She plopped him down on the bed and took her letters. Even though Ginny was right here, sitting between her legs and leaning her head back into Harry's shoulder, Harry desperately wanted to tear them open, just so she could silence that tiny voice in her head that was questioning whether or not she still had friends. "Now," Harry said calmly. "Whose elf are you and why are you trying to stop me from going to Hogwarts."

The house elf stopped its sobbing and gripped the potion bottle tightly. "Dobby is… Dobby belongs to the… to the bad… they- they hits… Dobby will be punished!" It whimpered, flipped the bottle upside down, and started to beat itself about the head with the glass. "Bad Dobby!Bad Dobby!"

"What are you doing?" she cried, wrenching the bottle out of its hands.

Ginny answered while Dobby flopped about in the sheet, twisting his ears violently. "House Elves are… well, they're bred to be obedient slaves. I haven't seen many, but I know that they're never supposed to speak ill of the family they serve. And they… they punish themselves if they do… really violently. Our Aunty Muriel had an elf that committed suicide just because it told one of her neighbors that she had a horrible singing voice… and she does mind you. The fact that this one is even trying to tell us is… odd."

Harry's anger and disdain for the little thing vanished instantly. "That's… that's barbaric," she whispered watching the elf squirm.

Ginny nodded into her neck. "Yeah. Muriel tried to give us an elf but Mum shouted her down. She refuses to have one in the house."

Harry placed a reassuring hand on the elf's shoulder and it stopped thrashing. "It's alright Dobby… you don't have to tell us."

Dobby's eyes widened. "Harry Potter touches Dobby… in kindness. Never has any wizard or witch done so! So good is Harry Potter… so great… so noble…"

He pawed at her leg with his tiny hands and she was reminded of what Mrs. Figg's cats would do to the upholstery. Never been touched with kindness… I… I remember that. "Why don't you run away Dobby? If you're concerned about my safety, you could… well you could stay with me and keep me safe. I won't hit you."

Harry wished she hadn't said it. The elf went crazy. It sobbed. It wailed. It punched itself. It bemoaned her kindness. "Harry Potter is a great witch… far too good to-"

"Dobby!" Harry held the elf down to the sheets. "Calm down!"

His heartbeat slowed beneath her fingers and she let him up. He shook his head and said sadly, "Dobby would like nothing less than to be Harry Potter's elf, miss. But a House elf must be set free. Dobby's family will never set Dobby free, miss."

"Oh. Well…" Harry trailed off. She didn't know what she could say or what help she could offer without having the elf wail again. "Okay. Well why… why is Hogwarts not safe?"

The elf looked around as if he thought others were listening in. Dobby's stared at her with his tennis ball eyes and whispered, "There is a plot, Harry Potter… a plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts."

Harry laughed to herself. That's it? "A plot… what kind of plot? Can you tell us what's happening?" The elf was twisting its ears and moaning. Harry pulled Dobby's hands away. "Dobby… why come to me? Why not go to Dumbledore?"

"Dobby cannot… Dobby cannot… Dobby cannot. It is… it is… Dobby must keep Harry Potter safe from the dark! She is too great to lose!"

Harry sighed heavily. "Dobby if you won't tell me, I'm going to have to take my chances. I'd rather snog Voldemort than go back to the Dur... Dobby?"

The elf was vibrating, a bit like a ringing telephone still on the hook. "Dobby must leave, Harry Potter! Dobby's mistress calls." The elf got right up into her face. "Harry Potter will not go back to Hogwarts!"

CRACK

"They want me to tap-dance!" yelled Ron sleepily.

The elf had vanished and Ron's snores resumed moments later.

"I'd like to see him stop me. He's not even a foot tall."

Ginny clutched her arm. "Don't say that Harry. House Elves are… well, there's a reason wizards enslaved them in the first place. They're… they're really powerful. All the old horror stories about Leprechauns and Gremlins… they're all about house elves."

"What old horror stories?"

Ginny scratched her head. "Well… I don't know any… but still." Harry laughed and lay back into the pillows, pulling the covers up to her chin. Ginny scooted off her lap and they resumed their former position. "If you have to stay home from Hogwarts," said Ginny quietly, twirling some of Harry's hair around her index finger, "then I'll stay too."

"You don't have to-"

"I want to." Ginny took her hand, sliding up the pillow so they were at eye-level. "I lost you… and… it hurt so bad Harry. When I saw your body it was… I can't even…"

Ginny's eyes were filled with anguish and she traced a hand down Harry's jaw line. Her brain was flooded with the scent of strawberry. They had cuddled, snuggled, kissed, and hugged… yet this one little touch was... Harry didn't know what it was.

It felt so… squiggle.

"Gin…" Harry asked softly, "what's… what's wrong?

Ginny closed her eyes, breathing deeply, and said. "I see your eyes now, and all I can think about is how they looked when you were dead. I touch you and all I can remember is how it felt to touch the bloodied cracks in your skin. I feel your hair and all I can picture is how dry and brittle it was. Harry, you're my… I don't even know what you are anymore… but I lost you… and I can't do it again. Even now, with you right here beside me, I'm upset and… and angry… really angry… I've never felt like this. If Dumbledore hadn't stopped me I... I probably would've killed your Aunt."

Harry grabbed her arms, pulling her closer. She rubbed her nose on Ginny's and smiled. "Wish you had finished the job and saved me the trouble."

Choking on a laugh, Ginny wiped at her eyes. When her freckled hand fell away, Harry reeled back. She was suddenly miles away, at the burrow, hesitating to put her ornament on the Christmas tree. Ginny's amber gaze had been hard, stubborn, serious, affectionate, heartbroken, angry, ecstatic, and determined… all at once; it blazed with fire and emotion and recklessness; it was the look she couldn't define; it was the look that embodied Ginny; it was the look that was boring into her at this very moment. "How do you do that?" asked Harry. "Make your eyes go all…" She made a complicated gesture with her hands.

"Eyes go all what?" Ginny asked in mock offense, poking Harry in the belly.

Harry put her hands to her face and tried to force her brow to imitate it. "I can't explain it. It's pretty… yet intimidating… yet kind. It drives me mad. I tried to do it in the mirror over the summer and I just ended up crossing my eyes."

Ginny giggled and shrugged. "I was actually just thinking about when we ran through the barrier last year… no specific look intended. Remember?"

The hourglass flipped of its own accord. Harry turned her face into the pillow, nodding, cheeks flushing. "Yeah." I think about it every night… and you're going to hate me when you… well, this is a problem for future-me. Future-me can handle it. Ginny's slow heartbeat hammered in her ears; her pulse was thudding against her hand; her breath was a heavy wind on her neck. Strawberries exploded in her mouth.

Ginny twiddled with Harry's hair, and when she spoke Harry could pick out every note in her voice; heard the waves of sound entwining together to create her lilting smooth alto. "That was a good day. You know… I'm glad Ron was being a prat or I wouldn't have come over to that bench I bet."

Harry didn't really want to think about that. She closed her eyes as Ginny ran her thumb over her knuckles. When her ministrations ceased, Harry opened her eyes, thinking Ginny had maybe fallen asleep. She had not. "Harry," Ginny said in a tiny voice, "what was… what was it like?"

Harry knew from her tone what she had meant. Entwining their fingers, she said in what she thought was a reassuring voice, "it wasn't bad. Painless. Quiet even. I just sort of… slipped away." Ginny scrounged up her eyes and squeezed her hand. "Honest Gin. Everything just… fell away. Like going to sleep. I saw a beach… an impossible beach. And I… I saw my parents."

Ginny's eyes snapped open. "You what?"

Harry quickly continued, not wanting her to think she was crazy. "Or… I think I did. It was… it was so real Gin. I… I flew with my dad. My mum she's… she's wonderful. I don't… I don't know if it was possible… but I hope it was real. I hope that they… really love me as much as they said. I hope they're watching. It's… it's nice… knowing you have a family that's-"

"You do have a family," Ginny said fiercely. Harry thought it might have just slipped out of her mouth, but she repeated herself purposefully, eyes once again smoldering. "I'm your family, Harry. You're… you're a Weasley! You were almost a Weasley officially, Dad said. Like the rest of the world, they offered to adopt you… but Dumbledore…"

"Said that I have to be a Dursley…" Harry muttered dejectedly, "that I'll have to be a Dursley for another five years."

Ginny gaped at her. "He won't send you back! He wouldn't… not after-"

"Yes he will… I know he will."

Ginny pressed her stomach into Harry's and held her tight. "I won't let him! I won't let you!"

Harry knew it was pointless to argue. Dumbledore would send her back, and there was nothing she or Ginny could do about it. She nosed Ginny's cheek as affectionately as she could. "Thanks Gin."

Ginny made a little satisfied grunting noise. She pushed on Harry to roll her over onto her side and slid up behind her. Her bum slid back into Ginny's waist. They fit together like spoons stacked in a drawer. While Harry liked this, she was somewhat dismayed at what it meant. "You bint! You're taller than me too!"

Ginny swatted Harry's hip. "Only because I get to eat properly, while you've been eating crackers and toast for three meals a day. A month at home and you'll be taller than Ron.

At home… oh Gin.

Harry grabbed her arm and pulled it around her. "Ginny… about last year…"

Ginny sighed and squeezed her hand. "I don't want to hear about it right now Harry. We're already over the limit on the 'bad things that have happened to Harry,' scale. I know it's bad too. Every time I managed to get Ron to talk about it his eyes would go all cold and he'd make bad jokes."

"It… well, yeah… it's bad."

Ginny buried her face into Harry's hair. "Then tell me later. Let's just…" she yawned widely in the middle of her sentence. "I need to sleep."

"Tansy cakes," Ron sighed happily from his corner.

Ginny sat bolt upright, nearly dislodging Harry from the bed. She was grinning. "I forgot! Be right back." Without so much as another word, she ran from the room. Harry was left puzzled and slightly chilly without her warm body to hold on to.

When Ginny returned to the room, she was holding in her hands… a chocolate cupcake. Harry laughed. "You needed a snack at four in the morning?"

"And It's not for me you silly twonk... although I wouldn't mind a bite." Ginny got back up on the bed and promptly sat on her. "It's for you! Happy Birthday… we'll have your real cake at the Burrow when you get out here of course."

Harry sat up, sheet falling to her waist, and rolled Ginny off her stomach. "It's… it's my birthday? I was in there for-"

"Half a month," said Ginny morosely, but a bright smile returned to her face just as quickly as her frown had formed and she urged, shoving the treat into Harry's hands, "now… eat your stale cupcake."

Harry bit down. It was, indeed… stale... and rather disgusting. Harry handed it to Ginny, smirking as the girl took a rather large bite. Harry giggled when her face fell in a disgusted expression. "Blegh! Harry! You could've warned me!"

"How would that be any fun for me?" Harry asked coquettishly as Ginny tossed the cake into the bedside bin.

Ginny pounced on her, growling playfully. "Commencing knee tickling in five seconds… five… four… three…"

Harry squealed and pulled the covers up over her head, curling into a ball to protect herself. But the tickles never came. Harry peeked out over the top of the sheet. Ginny was just sitting there, smiling at her. "What?" Harry asked, grabbing her arm and pulling her back down to the pillow.

Ginny shrugged. "Nothing. I'm… happy."

"Me too."

0000

Albus sipped his tea as the three Dursleys moaned and twitched on the couch in front of him, reliving all of Harry's most terrible memories in vibrant detail.

Never in his one hundred and ten years had he used legilimency to… educate… someone until now. In this case… he thought it was warranted. In the words of his father before he was sentenced to Azkaban, "it was a necessary evil." A necessary evil to break through their bigotry, to make sure that the repugnant deed committed in this house would never be repeated

He had ripped into each of their minds, finding the truths of their hate for the girl. In Petunia, it was the jealousy she felt for her sister. Burning deep down, repressed by a lifetime of ordinary, was a deep seeded need to be extraordinary. Of the three, hers was by far the most petty.

In Vernon, it was fear… and shame. Vernon's father was an abusive drunk, and a petty criminal. His continuous stints in prison were always the talk of the town, and his family was ridiculed endlessly. Vernon, shamed by his father, committed himself to being a perfect member of society, shunning anything that would make himself standout. Thus his fear of magic. Albus thought it was somewhat ironic that this fear had twisted Vernon Dursley into an even more dishonorable and out of the ordinary man than his father.

The son was not to blame. There was no true hate towards the girl. His actions were driven only by his bullying nature, the ideals he had learnt from his parents, and the inability to determine right from wrong that so often accompanied youth. Now was as good a time as any to teach this boy the repercussions of his actions.

Despite his drive to right a wrong, he had still felt dirty tearing apart their minds. He was dancing upon the line between projection and possession.

He made them relive the ten horrible days Harry had survived in the cupboard… and relented his grip. They slumped back, panting. "Now then, I believe we have an understanding?

The Dursley Family nodded and Albus waved his wand, sending all of Harry's belongings to the Burrow. He stood and just for dramatic emphasis, made the house rumble with thunder as he disapparated. The Emergency ward was quiet upon his return to St Mungo's. It had seen such hubbub in the last war as Tom had been particularly vicious in his attacks towards its end.

He passed Arthur, sleeping in a chair out in the hall, doing exactly as Albus had asked him to do. Despite his rather mischievous Hogwarts career, much like his twin sons, he was a good man… a man Albus had made Head Boy. Albus had been pressuring the Ministry for months to start a support program for those like Arthur's children, just donating enough to cover the essentials like wands and books. He knew that the youngest son, Ronald, was using a hand-me-down wand. The boy would never reach his potential, nor achieve satisfactory grades with a wand that had not chosen him or that he had not won.

He took down the ward Arthur had put up over Harry's door and swept inside. The sight that met his eyes was startling, yet not altogether unexpected. The two girls were embracing, spooned together snuggly and fast asleep. The sheet covering Harry from view had fallen away. She was as naked as the day she was born. The Weasley girl, Ginevra, had thrown a leg over Harry's hip and her hand was firmly planted on one of Harry's breasts. The black haired girl was panting in her sleep.

Albus himself had never been able to experience the effect of his augmented magic in the presence of the person that he used as his leverage for the hourglass. Yet… perhaps that was a good thing. It would have been most unsettling to become aroused when he thought of Ariana and her daisies; of the little chains she would make and place on his head. It was a simple reaction to one's magic, but he assumed it would have been unsettling all the same.

But the embrace these children shared… it was most assuredly from real love. It was a feeling he missed dearly and was truly a beautiful thing to behold. He wondered just how long it would take them to realize their feelings. He tapped on a portrait hanging from the wall next to him. "What do you think Phineas? Two years? Three?"

Phineas Nigellus groaned. "From the way they were touching and gibbering on about feelings… I'd give it a year."

Harry let out a rather intense culminating groan that made even Albus, old and withered as he was, blush ever so slightly. Ah to be young… although… a bit too young in this case. Molly would be most startled if she were to witness such a scene.

He flicked his wand and the girls parted slowly, sheets rising to once again cover Harry's body. They both clutched at the other as they drifted further apart. He was satisfied when only their hands were touching, but as soon as he released his spell they turned toward each other and ever so slowly inched back together. Instead of fighting what he knew would be a losing battle, Albus conjured some basic clothes onto Harry's body and let them resume their embrace. They would last a few days before vanishing. He would have to remember to remind her of this so as to prevent any surprising and inopportune moments of nakedness.

He thought back on the shocking truth he had learnt this morning. A parseltongue. A gift most assuredly bestowed to her by Tom and the door she closed to me. It's disturbing… but not shameful. I want her to know that.

Yet the talk he needed to have with Harry could wait. it was too early to wake them, they seemed so at peace. Albus remembered what it was like to be so uninhibited by love. It was such a powerful emotion. It could start wars and move mountains; could blacken stars and tempt fate; could blind truth from even his eyes. I do miss him… Perhaps I could… no. It has been too long and… far too many lives were lost due to my affections. It… it would not be right to see him again.

And yet…

I do miss him.

He disapparated with a soft pop.

Albus reappeared on wet rock. He gazed up at the foreboding black tower of shale-stone, wincing as the icy water of the Baltic blew into his face.

'FOR THE GREATER GOOD.'

The words scrawled over the gates mocked him as he passed beneath it; mocked his entire life.

What is the point of me?

There was a light at the top of the gargantuan structure, flickering in the cell of Nurmengard's only occupant.

He touched the control stone at his side, visualizing his destination. The scenery around him faded and rematerialized before his very eyes. In seconds, he was outside the cell gate. There he was… as old and shriveled as Albus himself, lying on the moldy cot. The floor of his steel cell was filled with books. Small blood red flowers grew from every inch of the cold metal. Their petals gleamed in the torchlight.

"Alchemy?" he questioned the man softly. "Whatever did you sacrifice?"

The man held up a hand missing all but two fingers. "Albus… at last you come." His gravelly deep voice, thick with a Polish accent, still sent shivers down Albus' spine.

"Yes Gellert. I felt it was time enough for a visit at least," he said simply. "I thought you would have freed yourself long ago."

Gellert shook his head. "I stopped attempting to navigate the maze… forty years ago. I saw too many of their faces. Of all my magics, I am most proud of this place. It was designed too well even for me to crack, mein liebster. I suppose it is fitting that I meet my end inside it."

He stroked a flower on one of the bars. "I am not here to end you, Gellert. I could not then. I will not now."

"Then leave me Albus. I beg you. To hear your voice after so long, to feel the power of the wand in your hand… it pains me greatly."

"Not yet…" Albus sighed heavily and sat down, leaning against the wall. "Not yet. I have missed you these long years, Gellert."

Gellert's good hand was suddenly reaching through the bars. "And I you, Albus. Yet I know that is not the only reason you came."

He took the withered hand in his own and rubbed it softly. "It was the reason that brought me over the tipping point I think. But you are, of course, correct. It alone was not enough." He paused for a long moment before he could say it. "Gellert… I found the shroud."

The man's hand tightened around his own. His withered face appeared from the shadow to press against the bars, his blue eyes wide with the same boyish twinkle Albus had fallen in love with all those years ago. "You found it! Where? Who? What family?"

He hesitated to tell him.

"Come now mein liebster. I cannot free myself… nor do I even wish to. Give me something to occupy my mind for the few years I have left."

Albus had never been able to resist him when he was excited. "The Potters… nee Peverells."

"Ignotus?"

Albus nodded.

"I knew it!" Gellert shouted gleefully. "Let… let me see it Albus."

"I… cannot. I returned it to the youngest Potter."

"YOU WHAT?" cried Gellert in anger. "Why?"

"Unlike you my love, I am no thief. It was loaned to me… and I returned it to the only living rightful owner."

"Spare me your snobbery Albus. I know you wanted to keep it for yourself. You have always been so easy to read. You must have felt a tremendous amount of guilt to return it willingly."

"I… I did, yes. The parents died by the wand of the man that followed your footsteps. It could have helped them escape. I was ashamed to have kept it for so long."

"Ah yes. Riddle. Young Karkaroff boasted to me of his Master's rise… power through obscure ritual… what a talentless hack."

Albus froze. "What rituals?"

Gellert shook his head, chuckling. 'That is for me to know… and you to find out. And if you touch my mind again Albus, I shall possess you and tear apart your soul."

Albus smirked. It was a threat they had often used to intimidate the other when they first met. They had shared their first kiss after just one such an occasion. "Forgive me."

Gellert smiled. His teeth were grimy. Albus sighed and conjured a tube of paste and a toothbrush, handing it to him. The man laughed and took it gratefully. "My thanks. I am afraid prison food has not been good to me… nor my gums." He picked at his ribs and said in an apprehensive voice, "Albus… what of the stone?"

"I… I have stopped my search. I no longer wish to bring her back."

Gellert frowned. "I am… sorry… for my part in that. I have spent many years thinking on it. Look at my flowers. Daisies."

Albus smiled wistfully. "Yes… I did notice."

"I have thought on much in my time here… much that I now regret. You were right… you're always right. We… we were wrong and I led you astray."

"It is good to hear you say that Gellert. Perhaps, when we leave this life… we may start anew."

Gellert grinned. "I would like that very much, Albus. Now… please… leave me. Take that accursed wand away from this place."

"As you wish." He reached into his pocket, put several Lemon Drops into Gellert's hand, and left the cell without another word.

0000

Harry woke to sunshine on her face and a hand on the skin of her belly. She flipped the hourglass before she gave in to the urge to push the hand down to her center. Gin.

Ginny's arm tightened around her as Harry tried to sit up. She gave out a little mewl of protest and her hand slid further up Harry's shirt.Where did I get a shirt? It's a good shirt so it can't be mine. Pulling Ginny's hand out exasperatedly, she put her lips down on her friend's neck and blew a loud raspberry. Ginny shrieked and flailed, rolling off the bed. Ooopsies. Harry leaned over the side and saw that Ginny's chest was heaving. Oh bugger. She jumped off and got down on the floor saying in a small voice, "Shite, Gin I'm sorry. I was just having a laugh."

Ginny turned over to face her… and she was laughing. She pulled Harry into a hug. "I had a nightmare that last night was a dream and that you were gone. Knowing that you aren't is definitely worth a slightly bruised bum." She got up and pulled Harry with her.

Harry's eyes were only level with Ginny's nose. She put a hand on her own head and then stepped away. The hand was at Ginny's eyebrows. "That's rubbish that is," said Harry moodily.

Ginny took her hand. Their charms made their familiar sounds as they spun together. "Promise me that you'll be around long enough to catch up." She was smiling… but it didn't reach her eyes… the worry blocked it out.

Harry slipped her arms around Ginny's neck, trying to make that promise with touch alone.

"Do I get a hug?" said a breaking, yet familiar voice.

She whirled around. "Ron!" He was awake, face adorned with his signature goofy grin. Running to him, she threw herself into his arms and he whirled her around laughing, holding her tight. Ron had gotten taller too and Harry was back to being below his shoulders.

"Thought I lost you mate," said Ron softly, returning her to the ground, brushing a little lock of hair back behind her ear.

"Nah," Harry said, sighing into his shirt. "Little thing like dying in a cupboard? Can't get rid of me that easily, can you? Potters are only allowed to go out in a blaze of glory."

Ron chuckled. "Cheeky today are we? Ah well… lets me know you're really here." He ruffled her hair affectionately.

Harry tilted her chin to look up into his crystal blue eyes. Another ache in her chest disappeared. Cupping his cheek, she muttered, "I missed you, Ron."

"Missed you too, Harry." His stomach grumbled loudly. "Er… you two want anything from the café? I'm starving."

Professor Dumbledore strode into the room as if his sudden appearance was a normal occurrence, wearing robes of an obscenely bright orange. She almost had to shield her eyes. "Why don't you scrounge up some food for the three of you Mr. Weasley. I need to have a chat with Harry here."

Ron nodded and left. Professor Dumbledore looked pointedly at Ginny who started towards the door, but Harry caught her hand. "No. Stay with me Gin."

"Much of what we have to discuss is of a sensitive nature Harry," Professor Dumbledore warned.

Ginny gazed questioningly into her eyes and said, "it's alright Har-"

Harry shook her head and pulled the redhead back towards her. "One secret."

Ginny grinned.

"Very well," Professor Dumbledore said, flicking his wand to conjure a rather large armchair and a comfortable looking couch. "First, let me say how happy I am to see you fully recovered." He sat down in the armchair which sighed happily as if the Headmaster had just done it a large favor. Seeing Harry's bug-eyed look, he explained lightly, "Happy Chairs, one of my most brilliant ideas if I do say so myself. There is nothing more gratifying than a chair that lets you know how much it appreciates you sitting in it. Do you like them?" Harry and Ginny sat down on the couch, which shrieked in fright. "Ah yes… still a work in progress."

"They're… very nice sir," said Harry trying to restrain her laughter.

Dumbledore nodded appreciatively and folded his hands in a steeple, face falling into a serious expression. "Harry, I must ask… were you aware of your actions when you protected you brain?"

Harry ogled him. Um… what? "I don't understand sir."

"Then I shall take that as a no. Hmmmm… most intriguing Harry… most intriguing." The old man scratched his bearded chin and adjusted his half-moon spectacles.

"Sir… I saw my parents."

Dumbledore smiled widely. "That is most wonderful Harry… the most wonderful thing I have heard in years. It warms my heart to know that some little bit of them exists somewhere.

"It… it was very nice sir. They told me things. I was hoping… maybe you could help me explain some of them… and then, that way I… I could know for sure…"

Dumbledore fixed her with a penetrating stare. "I will do what I can. Yet… you may not like the answers. Believing, Harry, is often far more satisfying then knowing. That being said… fire away."

"Well… my mum said to tell Snape-"

"Professor Snape, Harry."

"Er… right. Well she told me to tell him that she… forgives him. Did he do something to her?"

Professor Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Severus Snape and your father were… rather unfriendly towards each other… much like yourself and Miss Parkinson. Even after your father saved Severus' life and his resentment dwindled, Severus held on to his anger. Your mother however… she and Severus were close friends while at school."

Harry's breath caught in her chest. "WHAT?"

"Yes, as surprising as it may seem, they were quite close up until their sixth year. It is not my place to tell you why they had a falling out. So do not ask me. But you should be happy Harry… there is no way you could have been privy to such information. The woman that told you that… was indeed your mother, in some shape or form."

Yeah… it was. Harry looked up to the ceiling and Ginny cuddled into her side. Love you Mum. "Sir… there's more. My Godfather, Sirius… where is he?"

"He currently resides in the wizarding prison Azkaban."

"W-Why?"

"Well… he… Goodness me I never thought I'd be telling you this, my dear girl. Sirius Black betrayed your parents to Voldemort, and proceeded to kill thirteen people, which included another of your parents' friends, Peter Pettigrew."

Harry gasped. He killed… but… but… what? "Professor… my father told me to listen to Sirius and that his story needed to be told. He made me promise to not underestimate Peter. What does that mean?"

Dumbledore sank back into the chair, closing his eyes. "This… is most unexpected. I cannot answer you yet Harry. But I assure you… I'll look into this."

"Al-Alright sir. Do you think I could… would it be possible to see him?"

The Headmaster's eyes popped open and he said with hesitation, "… I… believe that might be possible. It will raise many questions amongst the community as to why you are visiting him… but yes… it would be…well, I will see what arrangements can be made. It may take quite some time before a request to see such a high profile prisoner can be processed."

"Thank you Professor."

Dumbledore nodded. "There is something else I'd like to talk about Harry. It involves the memories you placed behind the door."

Harry froze, eyes flashing apprehensively to Ginny. What if she… what if she runs? What if she hates me? Ginny's heartbeat was fluttering lightly against her shoulder. Harry squeezed her hand and amber met emerald. "Gin?" she breathed heavily. "Do you trust me?"

Ginny's shimmering hair fell into her face as she cocked her head, smiling radiantly. "Yeah. I trust you."

Harry placed her head down upon Ginny's shoulder and whispered into her ear, "Then please don't leave me." She turned to Professor Dumbledore. "Yessir. What about them?"

"I felt your shame for the ability, stemming from Hagrid's warning," Dumbledore said with a wheeze. "But I assure you Harry, even though it would be best left in secret to avoid general panic, being a Parselmouth… talking to snakes… is nothing to be ashamed of. As I have told you before, magic is not to be feared… rather, only what one does with it."

Harry had heard the words roll from his tongue as slowly as honey dripping from the spoon; she had felt Ginny's sharp intake of breath against her neck; had felt the hand she was holding tightly, tear violently away from her grasp; had felt the warm body lying against her shoulder retreat to the far side of the couch. Harry slowly turned to her, dreading... knowing what she would see.

Ginny's eyes were filled with fear… mistrust. She reached out and Ginny scooted away from her 's let out a soft sob and cried, "Gin… please! I'm still me!"

Ginny squeaked in fear as Harry again reached for her.

Gi-Ginny…

Harry had to get out of here… out of this room… away… far away. She jumped up and ran... sprinting really, down the hall, fleeing from the one person she cared for most in this world. She knocked into Ron on the staircase, the food in his arms flying everywhere. Ignoring his questioning shout, she darted down the steps with no idea where she was going. It didn't matter… nothing mattered. The halls were empty save for a few people in green robes here and there. They yelled after her, but their voices were buzzing in her ears.

There was sunshine ahead. She thrust herself into it, bursting out into open air, bare feet slapping against the concrete of what had to be London. Passersby seemed to be too busy to notice that a small girl with no shoes had just materialized through a solid glass window, and Harry was too upset to care if they had. She darted down and across the street, almost to be hit by a double-decker as it cruised around a corner.

Her feet hit grass and she sprinted across a wide open field to a small path that led into a rather dense growth of foliage. Harry wound and turned down the path, scattering the ducks that littered it, emerging into a small abandoned clearing. In its center, was a bronze cast statue of a boy playing a long pan-flute. Harry could run no more, her legs gave out and she collapsed against the statue in tears. Uncontrollable sobs racked her body, her eyes and nose leaking fiercely.

"You deserve it," said Piers hotly.

But… she loves me!

"No she doesn't… you're a nasty little freak. Why would anyone love you?"

She said she… she… she told me she did!

"She lied, Potty."

Harry went numb. Her tears waned, her breath evened, and her mind emptied. She sat there… blank as a fresh roll of parchment, absorbing the scenery with disinterest. The only emotion she felt was surprise… for another statue had appeared in the clearing. It had not been there moments before. The statue was of a woman, two men, and five boys that sat between them. The woman was quite beautiful, even in bronze. There was a large inscription on the base of the statue that read:

For the woman I loved, the friend I envied, and the children I cherished.

-J.M.B.

"Oi! You done sulkin on me stump?" said a loud voice with a Cockney accent.

Harry jumped. There was no one else in the clearing. Looking around the edge of the statue she called out nervously, "Hello?"

"Up 'ere luv."

Harry looked up.

Had she not spent a year at Hogwarts, had she cared about anything at the moment, she might've been frightened. The bronze boy was staring down at her, hanging lazily off the wooden stump he had been standing on, flute dangling from his hand. A bronze girl, roughly three/fourths the boy's size in every dimension, was kissing and licking his ear intently, her metal wings flapping like a hummingbird's. He swatted at her. "Keep it in your pants Tink. We `ave a guest."

The fairy-girl moaned in a high squeaky voice, "We always have guests Peter. Just because this one can see us doesn't make a difference. Come on… I need a good hard shag. I'll let you put it in my-"

"No means no ya `orny little bugger. Later yeah? Blimey, Ol Barrie must `ave been in a right foul mood ter magic ya the way he did."

The fairy harrumphed loudly, punched him in the head with a clang, and flew out of sight on the other side of the monument. Peter gestured down at Harry. "Now… Witch… what's wit all this racket? Snottin… all over me brass! Woke me up ya did."

"Sorry," said Harry, offering nothing more.

"Ahhh," Peter said knowingly. "Boy troubles is it?"

Harry couldn't laugh. There was nothing happening within her body. Nothing. "Hardly," she said shortly.

"Mmm yeah. Bit of a runt fer that aren't ya? So family troubles?" asked Peter the Statue. Harry didn't respond. Leave me alone. "No? Hmmm… lost someone?"

Harry's heart lurched. There must have been some physical reaction as well, for Peter said, "Who died then?"

"No one… I just… lost them."

Peter chuckled. "This person you lost… was she a cute little ginger girl?"

There was another loud clang as Tink the Fairy most assuredly clobbered his leg.

Harry was a bit shocked at the statue's perceptiveness. "How'd you know that then?"

"Well… she's right over there luv… starin at ya."

Harry looked up… and there she was. Ginny, eyes blazing, holding her charm, followed by Ron and Dumbledore; Ginny… face no longer showing fear; Ginny… running towards her. She fell into Harry, grasping her shoulders, pulling her into her body. Hands tangled into her hair, lips brushed her cheek, and a nose rubbed against her neck. "Harry… I'm sorry! I was stupid… Forgive me. Please. I need you to forgive me," she said frantically.

Forgive me?

Forgive her.

Forgive who?

"You deserve it," said Piers hotly.

But… she loves me!

"No she doesn't… you're a nasty little freak. Why would anyone love you?"

She said she… she… she told me she did!

"She lied, Potty."

…

No she didn't.

"You're just a freaky little cunt."

No I'm not.

"She hates your guts."

PISS OFF PIERS!

Everything flooded back into her. "Gin…" she said quietly. "Do you… still love me?"

Ginny nodded hurriedly into her shoulder. "Forever and ever Harry. I don't care if you're a Parselmouth. You told me before that you could talk to Alice and I… I didn't even think twice about it. Remember? In the tub?" Ginny pulled back and smiled, wiping away a tear. "You're Harry. That's all that matters to me."

Harry put her head down on the redhead's neck, crying lightly into her hair. "I… I was so…" Her heart was flipping continuously in her chest. "Don't do that to me again Gin… please."

"Never again."

When they had both calmed, Harry took her hand and asked hopefully, charms clinking, "Friends?"

Ginny squeezed her tighter. "The best."

0000

Check out my profile for a link to this story's Fan-Art page. Contains some NSFW content.

Several new arts added.

Review!

looking for nitpicky betas-grammar specific

Sorry about the wait. Life's been a bit hectic. Chapter is nice and long to make up for it though.

Lots of baggage went into this chapter. When I wrote Harry with her parents… I was sobbing. Looking back… it's nowhere near as emotional as it was in my head.

Just so everyone knows final pairings are H/G, R/Hr, D/P as it was in canon until the epilogue. I did the arranged marriage stuff because:

A) It explained the canon change as a result of Harry's existence.

B) It fits with the nineteenth century culture that purebloods seem to be stuck in.

C) Pansy is a great character. Her mean bratty little one-liners always made me laugh in the books. She's my anti-harry as Draco was JK's.

But the main reason is because… honestly… who the fuck cares about Astoria Greengrass?

Who laughed raucously when I said that Pan's clearing in Kensington Gardens was abandoned… in the summer… during the day?

Thanks to all the reviewers.