[watermark]Chapter One
    Ginny settled into a chair by the window as rain sprinkled lightly from the sky. The Hogwarts Express tooted and puffed, starting with a jerk from the platform. Ron was sitting in front of her, an arm draped across Hermione';s shoulders, and they were conversing with Harry. It was September 1st, and they were on their way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for another year, the last one still weighing heavily on their minds.

            The last weeks of summer had been peaceful enough for the Burrow; Hermione and Ron finally admitted that there was more than friendship to their feelings. Harry left them alone for the most part, amusing himself with flying, the twins'; gags, and most importantly, Ginny.  

            Ginny felt a light blush on her cheeks, and she smiled to herself. By now, she and Harry were fairly familiar with the ';path of sin'; that she had suggested in Flourish and Botts, and they were successful in keeping it a complete secret from her nosy brothers. It was more than the fear of humiliation that kept them from informing her family and Hermione; Harry adamantly told her that as long as no one knew of their relationship, she couldn';t be used against him. She just nodded and let him control that area of their relationship. Because of his guilt over Sirius'; death, she didn';t want to push him too far yet.
Despite his objections, Ginny insisted on telling her parents, so the night before they left for Hogwarts, they found her parents alone and informed them of their new relationship. Mrs. Weasley cried happily and Mr. Weasley just smiled, both promising not to tell anyone because Harry and Ginny said they didn';t want her brothers to know.         
       It had been a very good holiday on the whole. Ginny hadn';t really wanted to go back to Hogwarts. She worried that the little world she and Harry had created at the Burrow would fall apart, or that he would realize how little she deserved him and try to break from her. She never voiced that fear to him because she knew it was a silly one. Harry wasn';t the type to have little flings and throw the girl away the next day; it just wasn';t in him. Still, she worried just the same.

            "Ginny? Are you all right?"

            She turned her head to meet Hermione';s concerned eyes. Ron was rolling his eyes, and Harry had a small grin on his face, his gaze speaking volumes to her. She smiled and raised an eyebrow at Hermione. "Sure! Why? Do I look ill?" she asked.

            The concern faded, and Hermione settled back in her seat, swaying with the movement of the train. "No, not at all. You just seemed out of it for a moment."

            "Probably reliving the closet incident," Harry teased lightly, earning a whack from Hermione, a flush from Ron, and a giggle from Ginny.

            "Right in one, Potter. That was the best day of my whole summer." Ginny watched the couple across from her sink into their seats and grow red as the cushions. She laughed at their faces, seeing Ron’s mock-outrage.
            
"In more ways than that one, I hope," Harry muttered for her ears alone as Ron started rattling on about the dirty trick they played on him and Hermione, and Ginny shot him a smirk.
            "Keep hoping," she whispered lightly, making him grin, and turned back to Ron. "Ron, if Harry and I hadn';t shoved you in that closet, you two would still be tip-toeing around each other, and you’re too thick to realize it." She brushed crimson curls from her face.

            Ron scowled as Harry choked back a bout of laughter. "Right, right. Laugh it up. How about a game of chess, Ginny? I';ll show you a trick or two."

            She shook her head, giggling. "I don';t think so. I';m going find Neville and Luna and say hello." She slanted a meaningful gaze at the dark-haired boy next to her. "I';ll be back in a bit."

            Ron grimaced at her and turned to speak to Hermione. Ginny grinned and walked out of the compartment, steadying herself as the train puffed along. After passing through Neville';s compartment for a quick hello, she went into another connecting hall, stopped, and leaned against the wall. She closed her eyes and waited.
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           It wasn';t long until she heard the door slide open and shut just as quietly. Her heart sped up as footsteps neared, and an arm wrapped around her waist gently. Warmth blossomed in her, and she opened her eyes to look into Harry';s soft gaze. A grin spread on her face, and she leaned her cheek against his shoulder. "Hi."

            "Hey, Ginny. How are you doing?"

            She groaned softly. "What are we going to do at school, Harry? I don';t know if I can bear it."  

            "You';ve got to bear it, Ginny. I can';t let you get hurt." He gave her a lopsided grin. "If it makes you feel better, I don';t know how I';ll bear it either."

            "It doesn';t," she grumbled, eliciting a chuckle from him that she could feel vibrating in his chest. "I don';t see why you';re laughing. This won';t be fun."

            "It will be fun, Ginny. Haven';t you thought of any other paths of sin to lead me down?" he teased softly, brushing his lips across her forehead.

            She reached her face up to his, and their mouths met briefly, drinking in the other as quickly as possible. The train went round a sharp curve and his weight crushed against her as they fell against the wall. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed as his mouth moved over hers gently. There wasn';t anything better than having Harry in her arms; Merlin only knew how she would deal with not being able to have him publicly. She didn';t want to hide this from the world, but she knew it was for the best.

            Sighing, he reluctantly broke away from her and leaned his head in the crook of her neck. "Bloody hell, Ginny," he breathed. "Maybe this won';t be so fun."

            She smiled wistfully, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. "No, you';re right, Harry. It will be fine. I promise."

            There were the sounds of footsteps near the door to Neville';s compartment, and the couple broke apart quickly, smoothing their mussed robes. Ginny grinned slightly at Harry. "This will work well." She reached out to touch his arm and eased the door open, waving at Neville and Luna as she passed through their compartment. As she slid the door to her compartment open, she heard Hermione give a muffled gasp, and out of the corner of her downcast eyes, she saw Ron and Hermione break away from each other much in the same fashion as she and Harry just had. She suppressed the growing grin on her face.

            "Hello," she greeted cheerfully, watching with amusement as both their faces began to flush. "Neville says hi."

            Hermione furtively smoothed her robes and looked at Ginny as she sat down opposite them. "Oh, good. I';m glad he';s all right."

            Ginny schooled her features to innocence. "Where';s Harry?"

            Ron looked around the compartment with interest. "He was here just a second ago," he said, confusion over his face.

            Just then, the door slid open, and Harry stepped in, looking cool and collected as he made his way to his seat. "Needed to step out for some air." He plopped down next to Ginny. "It was getting a bit warm in here," he added, grinning at his two best friends.

            Ron frowned as Hermione let out a squeal of embarrassment. "Shove it, Potter. Now, how about that chess?"

           Harry was very relieved to be back at Hogwarts. He realized it as he walked into the Great Hall that night for the Welcoming Feast, flanked on both sides by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. No matter who stared and whispered, he already felt at home and safe inside the castle walls. He even welcomed the usual sneer from Snape as they passed the staff table; some things were always constant. He needed things to be constant right now
            They settled at their usual seats, and Harry looked across from his seat to see Ginny grinning at him, her dark eyes reassuring and insinuating at the same instant. He swallowed and grinned back. How would he bear this? He felt like he needed to pull her across the table and kiss the breath out of her.

       Once that thought was visualized, he almost moaned. This would be a frustrating year.
      
       The Sorting Hat began its song, but Harry didn’t notice. A small foot nudged his ankle, and a shot of warmth traveled up his leg straight to his head. He shot a warning glance at Ginny, and she smirked. The foot edged up under the hems of his robe, rubbing at his skin.
      
       A very frustrating year, indeed.
      
       Finally, the Sorting Hat finished its song, and Harry joined in the applause weakly, wondering if the song had really been that good. He hadn’t heard one word.
      
       Professor McGonagall took out her scroll of first-years from the pocket of her robes and began calling out names. Ron groaned under his breath and leaned over to Harry. “This is murder. I’m so hungry,” he groused, earning a poke in the side from Hermione.
      
       Harry silently agreed as Ginny’s foot nudged a bit higher up his calf. This was absolute murder.
      
       After an eternity, the final child, Emma Yeager, was proclaimed a Ravenclaw, and McGonagall took the Sorting Hat to Dumbledore’s office to wait until next year. In the middle of the impatient chatter, Professor Dumbledore stood  and raised his hand for silence. It was given almost immediately, and he smiled amicably at the students before him.
      
       “And so we begin a new year. I would like to remind all of you that the Forbidden Forest is, well, forbidden to all students. Mr. Filch has added another twenty-five items to the list of unacceptable items, so if you need to, check the list to make sure you aren’t carrying any. Hogsmeade is off-limits to anyone under third year.”
      
       He paused, eyes twinkling gently as he gazed across the room. His eyes met Harry’s, and a soft smile creased his face. “I also would like to welcome back Remus Lupin as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” He motioned towards the end of the staff table.
      
       Harry’s eyes widened as he saw his father’s close friend wave at the students cheerfully, smiling tiredly at Harry when he met his gaze. Lupin looked weary but stronger since the last time Harry saw him. He wondered why no one told him Lupin was coming back, but let that thought go as wild applause echoed in the hall from every table except the Slytherins’. Harry let a nasty smirk cross his face when he glimpsed Draco Malfoy looking fairly uncomfortable at his seat.  
      
       Dumbledore waited for the applause to die down before finishing his speech. “That’s all from me. Tuck in!”
      
       Ron let out one of many whoops for joy as food appeared on the tables, and students dug in hungrily. “The food here is bloody wonderful,” he mumbled through his roast beef.
      
       Hermione frowned in a way that reminded Harry very much of their Head of House. “Watch your language, Ron. You’re a prefect.”  He just shrugged at her, smiling as she huffed.
      
       Harry grinned. Some things never change.

            “Mr. Potter, the headmaster would like to see you in his office after the feast this evening.”

            Harry quickly looked up at Professor McGonagall, a light frown creasing his lips. “Why?”

            His Head of House pursed her lips and shifted her stance at his side. “I am not privy to that information, Potter. Just make you way to his office once the feast is over. Is that clear?”

            Harry nodded, and she swept off towards the staff table, black robes billowing behind her. He frowned and turned back to his food, trying to ignore the curious stares coming from Hermione and Ron. He hadn’t even been here one night, and Dumbledore already wanted to see him. Given his behavior in his office those dreadful hours after Sirius’ death, he would have thought the headmaster would want to keep him at a distance.

            His stomach clenched, and he set his fork down abruptly. He didn’t want to think of his behavior towards Dumbledore. He might have been overwhelmed with grief, but that was no excuse for his actions and words. In his solitary hours over the summer, Harry realized this many times over, and each time made him feel even worse than before.

            “Harry? What did McGonagall want?”

             “Just have to go talk to Dumbledore for a minute after the feast. Nothing important,” he replied with forced cheer and picked up his fork once more.

            Ron eyed him for a moment then turned to his sister. “Who do you think will be the Quidditch captain this year?” he asked through a mouthful of potato.

            “Ron, that’s disgusting.” Ginny wrinkled her nose at him as Hermione smacked him on the arm. “I don’t know, in answer to your question. Angelina and Alicia are both gone. You and Harry are the oldest ones on the team.” She glanced at Harry.

             “I was suspended, remember?”

            She rolled her eyes. “Umbridge isn’t here anymore, Harry. Dumbledore will lift your suspension by the week’s end.”

             “And anyway, I’m not Captain material. I know nothing about strategy. I can’t even win a chess game!”

            Ron snickered. “Very true, mate.”

            Harry elbowed Ron, smirking. Hermione rolled her eyes, muttered something about boys being idiots, and went back to her meal. Ginny giggled and leaned over to speak to Colin. Harry watched her mouth move for a bit, forgetting the cooling food on his plate, his focus completely on the girl laughing across from him.

            He felt a knot tighten in his chest. She had no idea the secrets he had. Would she still want him if she knew what he had to do? What he had to be? She knew so little of his connection with Voldemort; she didn’t fully understand how close he was at all times. That’s why the secret of their relationship was so important; if Voldemort knew how close she was to him, she would be used against him. Did she want him anyway, regardless of the danger?

         Why did she want him in the first place?

            He understood his own feelings. After Sirius’ death, she was the only one who understood the space he needed, and she gave it to him. She was the only one who could make him laugh, make him feel anything other than the grief and guilt that had overwhelmed him. She was the only one who had seen past all his barriers and still accepted him as a person.

            Why?

            He looked down at his food, suddenly not very hungry. His life was full of whys. And some of them had nothing to do with Voldemort.

            The feast went on for a bit longer, and Harry was almost sick as the time to see Dumbledore drew near. Hermione was the first one up as the dishes were cleared away. She dragged Ron with her as she set about leading the Gryffindors to the towers and guiding the awed first-years about. Harry hung back, taking his time to exit the Great Hall. He found Ginny tapping her foot outside the doors. He stopped about two feet in front of her and watched her eyebrows rise.

            “Aren’t you coming, Harry?”
            
He shook his head. “I have to meet with Dumbledore. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

            She nodded, and there was silence between them as the Hall emptied. When they were alone, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll wait for you outside his office, all right?”

             “Ok.”

            She grinned and pushed him in the direction of Dumbledore’s office. “Go on, then. Can’t keep a girl waiting too long.” She turned on her heel and walked after the Gryffindor students.

            Harry watched her leave and started out slowly for the headmaster’s office, feet dragging in apprehension. He didn’t want to keep Dumbledore waiting, but he didn’t want to see the man just yet. Memories of that night flooded over him as he traced the familiar path, and he shut his eyes, leaning against the wall for a moment. He didn’t want to think about it. It was all so raw and painful for him right now. Impulsively, he wished that Ginny was with him. She could always make him forget...

            “Mr. Potter! Potter!”

            His eyes shot open, and he straightened, seeing Professor McGonagall standing at the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore’s office. She looked impatiently at him and raised an eyebrow. “Come along, Potter. The headmaster is a very busy man.”

            Harry walked quickly to her and waited as she gave the password (Cauldron Cake), and the statue sprang to life, revealing the stairway up to the office door. McGonagall watched him silently for a moment, and when he still didn’t move, prodded him gently with her walking stick.

            “Potter, go on. Don’t waste any time,” she said, poking him again.

            He swallowed and started up the stairway, heart pounding painfully in his chest. The door was open a crack, and a thin beam of light slipped onto his feet as he stopped on the last step. He thought about turning around and running, but the quiet, tired voice from inside the room stopped him.

            “Please come in, Harry.”

            There was nothing to be done. Harry pushed the door open and walked in, feeling the eyes of all the portraits boring into him.

            “It looks like he’s grown a bit since June,” one woman commented.

            “The pillager is back, I see. Is he going to have another go at the office, Dumbledore?” queried another tartly.

            Harry kept his eyes on the floor, feeling the shame sweep over him. He heard Dumbledore sigh and speak to the murmuring portraits: “Harry is always welcome to break any of my things as he likes. But do not speak of something you may not understand. Do sit down Harry.”

            The pictures fell silent, and Harry looked up. Albus Dumbledore sat behind his cluttered desk serenely, fingering his snow-white beard and watching Harry with his clear blue gaze. Harry exhaled and sat down, not able to meet the other man’s eyes.

             “I wanted to inquire after your holiday, Harry. Did the Dursleys treat you well?”

            Harry grimaced. “I left them after about a month, sir. They treated me with silence. I didn’t really do much for them.”

            “And, how was the Burrow? I’m sure the Weasleys treated you well?”

            Harry held back a blush, thinking immediately of Ginny. “I had a good time with them, sir. They were very kind to me.”

            “I have had a letter from the Weasleys just this morning, Harry. They tell me that you and Miss Weasley are...attached?”

            At this, Harry’s head shot up to meet the knowing eyes of the headmaster. His heart did a jig against his ribs, and he swallowed hard. “Professor, I...well...” He fumbled for words. “Ginny and I...”

            The corners of Dumbledore’s mouth crinkled, and he cut Harry off gently. “It is a secret that will be hard to keep, Harry. I understand your use of caution; it is very wise. I will tell no one. Do not worry. Miss Weasley’s parents just thought it would be wise for me to know.”

            Harry nodded dumbly, not knowing what to say.  Inwardly, he heaved a sigh of relief. As long as Dumbledore knew, Ginny would be safe, no matter what.

            The older man continued. “In light of this new development, I would like to continue your Occlumancy lessons.” At the grimace on Harry’s face, he chuckled. “There is no need to take them with Professor Snape. I am confident that I can teach you just as well. As long as you have no problems with the arrangement...”

            Harry shook his head. “None at all, sir. Thank you.” The portraits murmured in approval.

             “Harry, I hope that you harbor no ill will towards me for my secrecy over the last five years. As I have explained, I felt that every time was ill to tell you about the connections you have with Voldemort.”

             “No sir. In fact, I did want to apologize for ripping your office apart that morning.”

            Dumbledore smiled. “Think nothing of it, Harry. It’s just an office. I can always get new furniture if necessary.” He sighed thoughtfully and stood. “Now, I believe you should be getting back to the common room. In the morning, I will tell you the schedule for the Occlumancy lessons.”

             “Thank you, Professor.”

       “No trouble, Harry. Go on. I believe Miss Weasley is waiting patiently for you outside my office,” Dumbledore replied, a bright sparkle in his eye.
      
       Harry turned a light red as he bid the headmaster good night and left the office, wondering how Dumbledore always seemed to know things like that. He had no sooner come out from the gargoyle’s shadow than he saw Ginny leaning against the stone wall across from the statue, eyes bright with anticipation. A warm sensation spilled from the pit of his stomach when he saw her, and he glimpsed around quickly to ensure solitude before going up to her.
      
       “Are you all right, Harry? I think we’re alone.” A light blush suffused her cheeks.
      
       He looked down at her for a moment, watching the lights dance through her crimson hair, the emotions fly through her dark gaze, and again could only wonder why she wanted him. Abruptly, he realized that she was fidgeting nervously. His silence must have been longer than he thought. “We are. I was just thinking.”
      
       “First time for everything.”
      
       He grinned and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. “You won’t get away with that one, you know.”
      
       “I’d like to see you try and retaliate,” she challenged, looking up at him from beneath smoky lashes.
      
       He was just about to lower his mouth to hers when footsteps and the sound of a grumpy cat’s purring echoed from around the corner. They jumped apart quickly, flattening to either side of the hall.
      
       “Are there little beasties around the headmaster’s office, darling? Where are they?” Filch asked his cat.
      
       “d#amn.” Ginny grabbed Harry’s hand and raced down the hall. “I hate that man.”
      
       “I hate him a lot more right now then I did five minutes ago,” Harry said sourly.
      
       Ginny giggled and squeezed his hand. “You’re not in trouble with Dumbledore, are you? You were in there a while,” she commented as they headed towards the stairs to Gryffindor Tower.
      
       Harry shook his head. “No. He just needed to talk to me.”
      
       Panting from their sprint, they headed up the stairs slowly, hands loosely intertwined. Breathing deeply, Harry watched her brush hair from her eyes, smiling brightly at him. His heart sped up, and suddenly he stopped. She halted a bit in front of him and looked back. “Harry? What is it?”
      
       He pulled her against him, and buried his face in her curls, inhaling her scent quickly. She curled up to him, wrapping her arms around him and sighing. “This is impossible,” she mumbled into his robes.
      
       “It can’t be impossible. I hear the Room of Requirement is available a lot.” He kissed the top of her head.
      
       She lifted her head, rolling her eyes at him. “You’re terrible.”
      
       He grinned. “I know. You go in first, all right?”
      
       She sighed and kissed him on the cheek quickly. “All right. See you in there.” She released him and climbed up the last bit to the portrait hole.
      
       The Fat Lady looked her over appraisingly and clucked. “You’re mussed, dear. Who are you with now?”
      
       Ginny smiled. “No one. Toad’s Foot,” she said and climbed inside when the portrait swung open.
      
       Harry stood on the steps for a bit, looking at the spot where Ginny last stood. Secrets everywhere. Would she still want him when the secrets were revealed?


~*~


            “I must find out what Potter is up to, Draco.”

            “I understand, Master.”

            “Set to it. Give me anything. The boy must have a weakness. You must find it for me.”

            “It is done, My Lord.”

The end？？

Chapter Two
When she looked at her timetable the next morning, Ginny wasn’t terribly stressed. Of course, the thought of another year of Potions with the Slytherins was as revolting as ever, but on the whole she was happy with her schedule. Looking across the table, she could tell that her brother wasn’t quite as happy with the piece of parchment in his hands, but he was a very negative person in matters of school anyway. Hermione was glowing with the excitement of her classes, and Harry was calmly looking at Ron’s timetable, taking it all in stride.
Ginny watched him from the corner of her eye for a moment, feeling a weight drop onto her heart. “He’s always had to take things in stride,” she thought. “Never has he had time to dwell, except for the summers.”
“Bloody hell. I hate Potions,” Ron snarled, grabbing a few pieces of toast from the plate in front of him.
“Ron, stop it! Honestly! We have to take it. There’s no other way around it,” Hermione reminded him, sipping from her pumpkin juice slowly.
Ron turned pleading eyes on his girlfriend. “Can’t you have sympathy for me for one morning?”
Hermione swatted his hand as it reached out to her arm. “Not when you whinge like a baby,” she scolded mildly.
“I thought that was what you liked about me,” Ron replied cheekily, dodging her hand and kissing her cheek quickly. Hermione turned a light shade of pink, and went back to her breakfast.
Ginny smothered a giggle, looking at Harry, whose gaze was at the timetable in his hands. His features darkened, and she frowned lightly. He was displeased...and she couldn’t even ask him why. Not here. She sighed, and pushed away her plate. This secrecy business was going to be the end of her.
Her gaze went to the staff table, and she watched as Dumbledore conversed cheerfully with Professor Flitwick. Last night, Harry hadn’t said a thing about his meeting with Dumbledore to her, and from what she could tell, Ron and Hermione didn’t know anything either. That comforted her and unnerved her at the same time. Harry wasn’t telling them anything she didn’t know, but he wasn’t saying anything to his two best friends. She didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.
Dumbledore’s eyes left the tiny Charms professor’s, and he locked gazes with Ginny. A knowing smile creased his face, and she thought she saw him wink at her before going back to Flitwick. She blinked, and shook her head. It was like he knew something about her...
“Ginny! Ginny!”
Her head turned sharply to Hermione’s curious eyes. “Yes?”
The older girl eyed her suspiciously for a moment, but smiled at her. “Do you have Defense Against the Dark Arts four times a week like us?”
Ginny glanced down at her timetable. “Yes, I do.”
“I suppose Dumbledore wanted to make up for last year’s lack of practice. I didn’t learn a thing in Umbridge’s class,” Hermione murmured, and looked across Ron to Harry, who was unnaturally quiet. “What do you think, Harry?”
Ginny observed shrewdly as Harry jumped slightly in his seat, startled by Hermione’s question. “What was that?” he asked, blinking rapidly.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly! Why are you so out of it this morning?”
Harry shrugged. “Just tired, I guess.”
Ginny frowned, and stood up, gathering up her schoolbag. “I’m off,” she said breezily, causing the Trio to look up at her. “See you all at lunch.” She walked off, trying to ignore the emerald stare boring into her back. Tossing her hair from her face, she looked down at her schedule to look at her first class of the day, putting Harry from her mind. If he wanted to keep secrets, that was fine by her. She just didn’t take very keenly to being in the dark. If he didn’t trust her, who did he trust?

~*~

When Harry walked into the Potions dungeon for his first class of the new year, he felt a dark, boiling hate surge into his veins as he saw Snape’s back at the front of the room. Even though the logical side of his brain told him he was being ridiculous to an extent, he tossed that aside for the blinding, primal side of him that hated everything the Potions Master touched, breathed on, walked past. He’d left the Pensive out. He’d thrown Harry out of his office. He’d stopped the Occlumency lessons. He’d left Harry vulnerable to Voldemort’s whims.
Harry took a deep breath, shoving the flood of negativity down to fester in his deepest walls, and exhaled, finding his usual seat beside Ron. The rest of the class trailed inside in clumps, the Slytherins staring and whispering as they passed his table. He ignored them, listening inattentively to Ron and Hermione converse. What Malfoy said couldn’t hurt him now. He was numb to everything except the animosity he harbored towards the greasy-haired man at the front of the room.
Snape turned around, and his trademark sneer twisted his lips. “Everyone here? Good.” He looked down at a paper on his desk. “We’ll be starting the year with the learning of various Healing potions. The knowledge of them might become useful to you in the near future. I have written the recipe for a Nerve-Repair Potion on the board. Can someone tell me what it can be used for?”
Hermione’s hand shot up immediately, as usual. As usual, Snape ignored her, and let his gaze drift over the Gryffindor tables. “Mr. Longbottom,” he called.
Harry watched as Neville looked up at Snape, pale in the face. “Yes, sir?”
“Tell me what this potion can be used for,” Snape repeated silkily, making Harry’s blood boil in anger. Ron muttered a curse under his breath, and Hermione dropped her hand, looking mournful. They all knew why Snape had asked Neville this question.
In front of them, Neville gulped. “It can be used in...It can be used as...”
The Slytherins tittered, and Snape smirked. “Stop stuttering and answer, Longbottom.”
“It’s used for cases when a person has been mildly subjected to the Cruciatus Curse,” Neville muttered, looking paler than snow.
Harry’s stomach gave a funny lurch, and the rush of blinding hate fought to get to the surface of his mind. Neville’s parents had been tortured by the Cruciatus Curse when he was just a little boy, and Snape knew it. It only showed the vindictive, evil man that he was, and Harry hated him more for it.
Snape nodded curtly. “Thank you, Longbottom. Nerve-Repair Potions can be used in many situations were a person’s nerves have been mildly damaged. An example of this would be the Cruciatus Curse---to a certain extent. Only mild cases of the curse can be helped.”
He looked around the class, a frown across his lips. “Follow the recipe on the board, and by the end of the class period I want a vial from each one of you. The color of this potion should be a light blue. Keep that in mind. You may begin.”
Harry struggled to keep himself from hexing the man, and cursed him as he got out the necessary ingredients for the potion. “Bloody bastard,” he muttered, slamming his cauldron on the table.
Ron nodded vigorously. “You can say that again, mate.”
Hermione pursed her lips, but kept silent. She was obviously as mad as the both of them; she was just better at controlling it.
Midway through class, Ron nudged Harry. “So, what did Dumbledore want with you last night?”
“Oh.” Harry grunted as he poured ground moonstone into his cauldron. “Just to check up on my summer. Stuff like that.”
“It certainly took a while, Harry. Is there anything you want to tell us?” Hermione asked softly, stirring the mixture inside her cauldron slowly.
Harry shook his head, watching with downcast eyes as Snape came near their table, the sneer widening on his face. “Ten points from Gryffindor, Granger. Keep your mouth closed during my class,” he snapped, and walked away.
Hermione stiffened, and Ron started swearing angrily under his breath. Harry had to physically stop his hand from reaching for his wand, muscles tensed with anger. The darkness swelled in him again, and he avoided looking at Snape the rest of the class, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from harming the man if he did.

“d#amned bloody prat. Who does he think he is? If only I could hex him...”
Ron was still furious over Snape’s behavior toward Hermione by the end of the day. Harry was right with him as they lounged in the common room after dinner. Other than Potions, it had been a good first day back. Charms had come after Potions, and after lunch was Defense Against the Dark Arts and a double class of History of Magic in the afternoon, which meant a doubly long nap for everyone. Harry was relaxing nicely in his favorite chair by the hearth, dreading the next night. Instead of sitting here with his friends, he would be with Dumbledore practicing Occlumency. It wasn’t the lesson he dreaded so much; it was the excuse he would have to make up to his friends for being missing every Tuesday night for an hour.
Their first Defense lesson with Lupin had been as enjoyable as they had been in their third year. He was starting with the Patronus Charm in response to the desertion of the Dementors in the summer, and Harry had to demonstrate for the class, which hadn’t been hard. Lupin had caught his eye more than once during the period, and Harry had smiled at him weakly. He didn’t quite want to talk to Lupin yet, as much as he admired him. He would be reminded too much of Sirius and his parents...and all he wanted to do was to forget it.
Hermione sighed, leaning her head on Ron’s shoulder as he ranted. “Ron, please relax. And stop swearing! You’re a horrible influence,” she hissed, looking around furtively to make sure no impressionable ears were around.
Harry grinned, and closed his eyes, letting his rage simmer below the surface almost forgotten. To think of Snape right now would be blasphemous to the night. He wouldn’t think of him now. He wouldn’t think of anything now. Except for Ginny...
His eyes snapped open, and he sat up in his chair. Ginny wasn’t in the common room yet. He hadn’t seen her since dinner, and that was an hour ago. He didn’t want to worry, but he felt a keen pang not knowing where she was.
The portrait hole swung open and Ginny entered, looking flustered, and carrying three books in her arms. The three by the fire waved to her, and she dragged herself over, plopping on the hearthrug, near Harry’s chair. “I already have two essays to do, and I’ve only been here a day,” she moaned, lying back on the floor and throwing an arm across her eyes.
Harry, who had been so happy to see her that he had nearly grabbed her in his arms as she passed by, sighed wearily. Fifth year was the year of O.W.L.s, and he knew the stress she was going to be under. He had gotten ten O.W.L.s last year, barely scraping by in Potions, and that had been a struggle. Now, Ginny was much brighter than he was, but it would be a challenge for her anyway.
Hermione sighed sympathetically. “As long as you don’t wait for the last minute to do them, I’m sure they’ll be fine,” she soothed her younger friend.
“Thank Merlin I’m done with O.W.L.s I wouldn’t be you for a second, Ginny,” Ron said with a sigh of relief.
She lifted her arm, and scowled at him. “Thanks a bloody lot, Ron. That really makes me feel better,” she snapped.
Ron shrugged. “Just saying the truth.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Tact, Ron. Someday, I’ll teach you tact.”
“Even you couldn’t teach that thick moron tact,” Ginny said waspishly.
“Oi! Don’t talk to me like that,” Ron exclaimed, sitting up on the sofa.
Ginny rolled her eyes and stood, walking back through the portrait hole with an angry step. Harry gaped as she left, very confused. She hadn’t seemed to be in a bad mood at breakfast this morning, and he didn’t understand why she was so snappy tonight. It was more than the essays; someone must have done something to her during the day. He frowned.
“Harry, can you believe how she was acting? I don’t think I’ve ever been so insulted by a relative in my life,” Ron proclaimed, looking quite put out. Hermione bit her lip, looking torn between taking Ginny’s side or Ron’s. She sighed inaudibly, and stayed silent against Ron’s shoulder, letting him rant.
Harry shrugged. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it,” he said distantly, longing to go after her and ask her what was wrong.
Ron grumped on, switching between cursing Snape and berating Ginny. Harry tuned him out, feeling fairly concerned after a half-hour passed with no sign of Ginny. He was ready to go look for her, no matter what it looked like to Ron and Hermione, when the portrait hole opened, and Ginny stepped inside, Professor McGonagall right behind. Ginny, who still looked livid, hurried over to Neville and Colin as the common room fell silent with the entrance of their Head of House.
McGonagall swept the room with her eyes until they rested on Ron. She made her way over to the hearth, Ron looking very nervous under her gaze. “Mr. Weasley.”
“Yes, Professor?” he said weakly, straightening up. Hermione slid away from him, blushing slightly. Harry looked on with interest.
McGonagall looked at him coolly for a moment, leaning on her walking stick. “I have decided that you would be an adequate choice for Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I hope you will accept this honor, and not disappoint me,” she said briskly.
You could have dropped a pin in the room and heard it. There was complete silence. Ron goggled at the stern woman for a moment, eyes wide with disbelief. Hermione’s eyes popped out, and she looked at Harry in bewilderment. Harry had to hold back a grin, wishing for a camera. The look on everyone’s faces was priceless.
McGonagall coughed after a moment of deathly quiet, looking impatient. “Mr. Weasley, did you hear me?”
Swallowing, Ron nodded. “Yes, Professor,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Do you accept?”
“Yes, Professor,” was the raspy answer.
She smiled slightly, and nodded. “Good. I have taken the liberty of reserving the pitch for next Monday for tryouts from six to eight. Do not waste time.” She turned on her heel, and walked out, leaving all the students in the room to stare in wonder at Ron, who looked just as shocked.

Harry grinned widely. “Captain Ron Weasley, eh?”
Ron blinked, and looked at Harry in wonder. “I...I was sure it would be you,” he stuttered.
Harry shook his head, and smiled wryly. “Like I said last night, mate: I have no strategy. Look what happens when I play chess!”
Dean Thomas made his way over to Ron, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Brilliant, Ron! Congratulations!”
With that, the common room swarmed around Ron, everyone calling out congratulations and well-wishes. Harry smiled distantly and made his way out of the crowd, looking for Ginny. She was headed out the portrait hole once more, and he ran to catch up with her, his absence unnoticed in the surprised haze of everyone’s mind.
Ginny went down the steps and headed through the entrance hall, slipping out the doors quietly. Harry followed her, and found her leaning against a wall, frowning deeply. She heard his hesitant steps toward her, and looked in his direction. “Can I help you?” she asked dully, the light autumn breeze lifting her curls from her neck.
He stopped a few feet from her, confusion overwhelming him. The sun was just setting, sending the reds in her hair into a crazy pattern of color, and he unconsciously realized how pretty she looked during a sunset. “Are you all right?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do I look all right, Harry?” she exclaimed in frustration.
“There’s no need to yell at me. I can hear just fine,” he replied coolly, retreating behind the emotional walls that had protected him for many years.
Her face fell as she saw his eyes close off, and she took a step towards him. “I’m sorry, Harry,” she said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. He pulled back instinctively, watching the hurt seep into her eyes, and she frowned. “Don’t do that, Harry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” she pleaded.
He remained still. She pursed her lips, and in a quick movement grasped his forearms in her hands before he could pull back. Her touch warmed him immediately, and she kept her grip tight. “I’m just stressed, Harry. All the teachers I had today gave me the lecture about how O.W.L.s are ‘the key to your future,’ and then the essays...” she trailed off, looking up at him. “I’m a little scared, Harry. And, you’re keeping things from me, too.”
Harry jumped at her last words. “What do you mean, Ginny?” he asked nervously.
She turned her gaze downward. “Your meeting with Dumbledore is one thing. Was it so bad that you can’t tell me what he said?”
He was at a loss for words. He didn’t want to tell Ginny about the Occlumency lessons, because that would include the revelation that Voldemort could see into his mind, and that would lead to the prophecy, but he didn’t want to skirt around the issue of secrecy. She would know if he was lying; she was good like that. Mind whirling, his arms slipped from her grasp, and wrapped around her waist loosely, pulling her closer to him. She leaned her cheek on his chest, and they stood in silence for a few moments, letting the light wind brush across their bodies.
Finally, Ginny let out a sigh. “If you really can’t tell me, Harry, I won’t press it,” she said quietly, lifting her eyes to his. “But, you know you can talk to me, right? Same deal as in the summer; whenever you need to talk, you know where I am.”
He smirked at her. “So, you’re saying I can sneak into your dormitory and scare you with my amazing popping head trick?” he asked innocently, a twinkle in his eyes.
She blushed lightly, but gathered her wits and pressed closer to him. “If the urge hits you, sure,” she replied, voice lower than normal.
He licked his lips and tightened his hold on her, feeling heat tunnel through his body. She grinned at him, and, leaning up, brushed her mouth against his lightly. Inhaling sharply, he met her, letting himself go after holding the reins of his feelings for the whole day. The hate that had poisoned him since Potions evaporated as she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him pour everything into her without restraint. Whenever he was with her, he couldn’t feel anything negative or d#amning; all he knew was the high he was always on after a meeting or conversation.
When they ran out of air, she let his mouth go with a little chuckle, and rested her chin on his chest. “Have a bad day?” she asked with a little smile.
He sighed, reaching up to brush a few errant strands of hair from her face. “Yeah, for the most part. Was it that obvious?”
She leaned up and kissed his nose. “Yes. Are you upset about Ron?” she asked worriedly.
Shock entered his gaze. “No! Not at all! Ron’s a much better choice for Captain than I am. I can’t do a full game strategy. I can’t even play chess very well. This is very good for the team,” he replied confidently.

She eyed him. “I know you were upset last year when he was made a prefect, and you weren’t. I was just making sure you were all right now,” she commented, curling up to him.
He grinned wryly. “Well, I was a bit...temperamental last year, wasn’t I?”
“Just a bit,” she said dryly, grinning.
He sighed softly, and rested his chin on her hair, looking out onto the Hogwarts grounds as the sun sank lower below the horizon. And, the time hit him like a hammer. Who knows how long they had been gone? What if someone noticed, and put two and two together? “Ginny, we should go in,” he said gently, trying not to sound too urgent.
She nodded underneath his chin. “I know,” she replied wistfully, taking a step back from him. He felt very cold all of a sudden, and he didn’t like it. She sighed. “I’m cold.”
“Me too,” he agreed softly, gazing at her.
Ginny gave him a small smile, and passed him to go inside, touching him lightly on the arm as she passed. He smiled but didn’t follow her, watching the sky darken from a vibrant red to the dark navy of dusk. Alone with his thoughts, he stayed out there until Professor Sprout saw him and ordered him to go in, and that was when the sky was already prickled with stars.

~*~

“Ginny! Ginny! Wake up!”
Ginny moaned, and rolled over in bed, covering her ears with a pillow. “Go ‘way. It’s Saturday,” she mumbled.
A sigh was heard. “Ginny, Ron told me to wake you up! You have practice, you know.”
Another moan. “No...”
The covers were pulled off her, and she yelped as the cool early-morning air hit her legs, night-dress tangled up around her thighs. She cracked an eye open, and saw Hermione observing her with dismay. “You look like you’ve had a rough night. Maybe I can tell Ron you don’t feel well,” she offered with a sympathetic gaze.
Ginny shook her head and sat up slowly, pulling her wand out from underneath her pillow. “I had a fine night, Hermione. I’ll be ok. Tell him I’ll be down at the pitch in ten minutes,” she said blearily, rubbing her eyes roughly.
Hermione gave her a grin and walked out of her room briskly. Ginny saw that her fellow dorm mates were still sleeping peacefully with their curtains drawn, and she growled enviously. “d#amn Ron,” she cursed violently, climbing out of bed as the sun peaked in through her window. She went into the loo to wash up, and gasped.
She had little bruises on her neck that had appeared overnight. A blush suffused her face, and she smoothed her wrinkled night-dress vainly. It was hardly a rough night, sleep-wise. Harry, on the other hand, had got it into his head to sneak into her dorm room before she went to bed under the Invisibility Cloak, and surprise her as she slept. Obviously his Confusion Charm was much stronger than the Founders had anticipated, because she didn’t know any other way for him to get past the alarms. He had been particularly playful, and the tiny marks were evidence of that. Thank Merlin she had made him leave when he did, or they might not have been able to stop themselves...
“Looking a bit warm, aren’t we dearie?” the mirror asked cheekily.
“Oh, hush up!” Ginny hissed, aiming her wand and muttering some quick charms to cover up the bruises for the moment. She pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail, washed her face, and headed back out to dress as quietly as she could.
The sun was still low on the horizon when she walked out onto the pitch, her Cleansweep Eleven clutched in her hand. Through her blurry gaze she saw the whole team already in the air running drills, and she sped up, dashing across the dew-soaked grass as she heard Ron screaming at her from above.
“It’s about time you got here, Ginny!” he exclaimed as she kicked up off the ground and joined them up in the cool late-September air. “Dean and Katie have been waiting for you!”
“Sod off, Ron! I’m only a few minutes late,” she snapped, gliding away towards her fellow Chasers. Harry caught her eye, and she felt a blush creep onto her face. He grinned rakishly at her.
“Ok, listen up! I’m going to release the balls now. Dean, Ginny and Katie will practice their moves and shoot with me. I want Harry to deal with the Snitch, and Kirke and Sloper will bash Bludgers at everyone. Got that?” Ron eyed them all after his speech. They nodded quickly, and he grinned. “Ok. Let’s do it.”
He flew back to the ground, and soon the balls soared up in the air. Ginny grabbed the Quaffle and tossed it to Dean Thomas, who tossed it back. He had made Chaser at tryouts over two weeks ago, as had she. They joined Katie Bell, who was in her last year at Hogwarts. Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper had stayed on the team as Beaters after replacing Fred and George last year, and Ron was still the Keeper. Everyone had improved greatly over the summer, and had come back refreshed and ready to win again.
Katie sailed past her, smiling lightly as she caught the Quaffle. “You look a bit peaky, Ginny. Did you sleep well?” she asked, tossing the round orange ball towards a hoop, and watched Ron streak to catch it.
Ginny heaved a sigh, ducking her head to hide her blush. “Yes, I’m fine, Katie. I swear it,” she called, catching the Quaffle from Ron and throwing it to Dean as they sped around the field.
A Bludger whizzed past her nose, and she turned to glare at Sloper. “You don’t need to take my nose off, Jack!”
He grinned. “My apologies,” he said gallantly, bowing in her direction before sending the Bludger off towards Harry.