White Knight, Grey Queen

1 - Discovery

“Sit down, Pansy,” Gruoch Parkinson said calmly, as she poured herself and her husband a cup of tea.

“What’s going on?” Pansy asked quietly.  She couldn’t remember the last time she had been formally invited into the parlour of their ancestral home.

“Please, sweetheart,” Malcom Parkinson said.  “Sit down.”

Pansy sat down nervously, and looked from her mother to her father.

“We need you to be honest with us, Pansy,” Gruoch said slowly.  “I promise that we are not going to use anything you say against you, but we really need to know how you feel.”

“Okay,” the teenaged witch replied, suddenly feeling nervous.

“How do you feel about Draco? We know that you went to the Ball with him in the fourth year.”

“Honestly?” Pansy asked, looking at both her parents intently, alternating between each one.

“Yes,” Malcom agreed.  “Complete honesty, please.”

“I hate him. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.” The unexpected opportunity to get her true feelings of her chest was too much for her.  “I hate having to be nice to him; I hate having to talk to him.  He’s an arrogant, selfish, ignorant, baboon.  I hate him.  I cringe whenever he comes near me.  Did you see any pictures of what I wore to the Ball with him?  It was the most ridiculous pink fluffy thing I could find.  I was so relieved that he spent the evening drooling over Daph.”

Her parents looked at each other and smiled slightly.  “So why have you spent all your time with him?”

Pansy rolled her eyes at the obvious question.  “Lucius is a Death Eater, we’re purebloods.  It’s not as if I have a choice in the matter, is it.”

“Well.  I’m afraid that’s the problem.”  Her father sighed heavily.  “I had a rather large falling out with Lucius today.  He went crying to Voldemort, and now we’re on Voldemort’s list.”

Pansy paled dramatically, going white.  “Why?”

“Lucius doesn’t think that we should have business dealing with Muggles.”

“But they make us so much money,” Pansy replied instinctively.

“Dirty money.”

“Bugger,” Pansy swore under her breath.  “So how long do we have?”

“Giving up?” Gruoch asked with a tinge of acid in her voice.

Pansy straightened her back.  “Absolutely not.”  She paused for a second.  “Does this mean I can tell Draco to shove his head up his arse?”

“I guess,” Malcom said dryly.  “It’s not as if it can do any harm.”

“I’m scared though,” Pansy half whispered, suddenly looking down.

Malcom nodded.  “As are we, my dear.  I’m not too worried about Voldemort at the moment.  He won’t attack us now; he has too much to lose.  If he did, he’d have all the other pureblood families turn against him.  He will use his power to try and undermine us, and eventually he will succeed.  The problem we have is you.  We’re thinking of pulling you out of Hogwarts.  Draco will have been informed of our...” He coughed slightly.  “...Fall from grace and could make your life hell.”

Pansy shook her head.  “I don’t want to do that; it can’t be worse than it has been.  At least I don’t have to put up with him drooling over me as some sort of last resort when Daph’s not in the room.”

Gruoch frowned softly.  “Why is Draco always fawning over Daphne - you are much better looking.”

Pansy smiled slightly.  “Dad?”

Malcom coughed slightly.  “That would be my fault.  I taught Pansy some glamour spells before she went to Hogwarts.  I told her that people should like her for who she is, not what she looks like.”

“You mean that you’ve been under a spell for five years at school?”

Pansy smiled happily, nodding at the same time.  “It’s worked perfectly.  Draco has only paid attention to me, as I’ve been a simpering hanger-on.  I know that I have friends who like me for my personality, not my looks, and it’s been a really Slytherin thing to do - trick everyone in the house, including Snape, for my entire time there.  The problem I had is that the spell didn’t work for photographs, so I had to be careful not to be caught.  I’ve nearly been found out many times, but I pulled it off.

“It wasn’t much.  I just made my nose a little bigger, hair a little duller and shorter, added a few spots, and made myself look smaller.  Draco didn’t even notice, even from the first day he was drooling at other people.  He’s not the most observant.”

Gruoch laughed. “I’m proud of you.  But what are you going to do when you get back to school?”

Pansy sighed softly.  “Keep my head down, my spells up, and try and survive.  It’s the Slytherin way.”

Gruoch looked at Malcom.  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay home.  We should be safe from Voldemort for a bit, and we do have safe havens abroad that we can run to.”

Pansy took a deep breath.  “Have you ever thought of going to the other side?”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re not a traditional pureblood family.  We’ve always used Muggles when we’ve needed to.  Sure, purebloods are the best, but we know that half-bloods have their uses.  As do all the other creatures we deal with.  Our family goals have always been to rule from shadows.”

“True,” Malcom admitted calmly.

“So why don’t we help defeat the Dark Lord?”

“Call him Voldemort, dear,” Gruoch said smoothly.  “We don’t give anyone that honorific if we don’t have to.”

“Sorry, Mum.”

“I had thought of that,” Malcom replied thoughtfully.  “Unfortunately, I’ve had a series of run-ins with Dumbledore.  He objects to me using Muggles as well.  It’s not in his vision for the Wizarding World.”

Pansy rolled her eyes.  “So we can’t approach him.”

“Or anyone else,” Gruoch added, sipping on her tea.  “People fear us, because we have a reputation for being dark.”

Pansy snorted eloquently.  “Only because it means we get what we want.  We’ve always been grey.”

“Ladies don’t snort,” Gruoch chastised her only daughter gently.

“Sorry Mum.  So we’re stuck; on the one hand we have Voldemort.  On the other, we have everyone else and neither one of them trusts us.  I guess that leaves us with only one option.”

Gruoch and Malcom exchanged a glance.  “You mean buy our way out of the country?”

Pansy laughed.  “No.  We need to approach someone who’s on the light side.  Someone who’s got an open mind.  And is the only person in the school not afraid of Draco.”

“Who?”

“Harry Potter.”

Her parents exchanged another long glance.

“He is from a pureblood family,” Malcom commented softly.  “But he is very close to the Weasleys, and they are Muggle lovers.”

Pansy waved her hands airily.  “Oh please daddy.  You don’t dislike Muggles.  They make you far too much money.”

Her father didn’t disagree.

“You’d deal with anyone if there is money involved.  And let’s face it, if Voldemort loses, the Malfoys would be vulnerable to a take over.”

Malcom smiled.  “We’ve brought up a little genius, Gruoch.  It would be a wonderful revenge on the Malfoy family.  It would serve them right for dragging us into this mess in the first place.”

Pansy nodded.  “Revenge for him treating me like dirt, just because I’ve not been pretty enough for him to drool over.”  She sighed softly.  “But there is a problem.  I’ve not exactly been friendly with Harry in the past.  I helped Draco get him into a lot of trouble at school last year.”

“So he has a grudge against you.”

Pansy shook her head.  “Maybe, but maybe not.  Harry’s nice, if you know what I mean.  He’s friends with a house-elf.”  She smiled slightly, “Remember Dobby?”

“Lucius’ elf?”

“Yeah, Harry had him freed.  Draco ranted for several days over losing that elf.  Anyway, Harry’s a Gryffindor.  A do-gooder.  If I ask him for help, honestly, I think he’ll help us.” She paused for a few seconds.  “I’d have to be honest.  He’s already getting really good at reading people.

“And he is cute.

“The other problem is Weasley, and probably Granger, too.  They’re both very protective of Harry.  Weasley because he’s insecure, and doesn’t want anyone getting between them, and Granger because she thinks she is smarter than him and knows best.”

“Is she?”

“Book smart, yeah.  Would I want her in my corner if Vol... Voldemort came knocking?  Hell no.  I’d rather have someone who can think on her feet.”

“Saying Voldemort gets easier with practice,” Gruoch commented, pouring herself another cup of tea.

“So if you could approach him before school, when he doesn’t have his friends around, you may be able to convince him to help you?”

“Yes.”  Pansy smiled slightly.  “But everyone knows that he is the most protected wizard on the planet.”  She sighed.  “He’s probably in a big castle somewhere, looked after by Dobby.”

“Or in Little Whinging,” Malcom countered.

“What!?” Pansy and Gruoch asked together.

“He might live in Little Whinging,” Malcom repeated dutifully.

“You know where Harry Potter lives?” Gruoch demanded.

“Yes.  I was planning on using the knowledge if Voldemort ever comes for us directly.  But, I’m prepared to gamble on you getting Potter to accept us.  And if it works, we could gain a lot of money, power, and influence.”

His wife and daughter nodded.  They both knew that the safe and steady might be good in the long run, but the occasional gamble could really pay off if you had the courage to risk everything.

“How did you find out where he is, isn’t it supposed to be a secret?”

“Pure luck.  I was doing an inspection of one of our Muggle plants and overheard a rather obnoxious Muggle boasting about his son.  One of the others mentioned a second son, and he explained that he was at some strange boys’ school.  I wouldn’t have paid anymore attention, but the name Harry Potter came up.

“I did some research, and it turns out that this fat Muggle’s wife is Lily Potter’s sister.”

Gruoch leaned across and kissed her husband lightly.

“That’s why I married you, my dear.”

“And I thought it was because I promised to make you the wealthiest woman on the planet.”

“That was a bonus,” Gruoch smiled.  “Your sneaky nature was by far my most favourite aspect of your personality.”

“Okay,” Pansy interrupted, before this conversation got out of hand.  “So you can get me to see him, and I’ll do the rest.”

She paused for a second.  “You know, if Harry does defeat Voldemort, he’d be in a perfect position to do what ever he wants.  Being the wife of either the Minister of Magic, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, or the best Quidditch player in the world, would be a good thing.”

Malcom laughed.  “You have to get him to help us first.”

“You’ve said yourself, Daddy - you have to plan ahead.  I think that Harry needs help.  He needs to learn to take control of his own destiny, to learn how to push himself to succeed, push himself to win, and I think he really needs a loyal girlfriend who’ll have the courage to stand up to him and will not be scared to fight with him.

“I can offer him that.”

“Aren’t you risking just exchanging Draco for Potter?” Gruoch asked quietly.

Pansy shook her head.  “Not at all.  To start with, Harry’s not a disgusting toad with a five year old’s intellect.  And let’s face it, sooner or later Daddy’s going to be thinking about marrying me into one of the other pureblood families - like the Malfoys.  This way I’ll actually get a chance at someone I’d choose.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Malcom said, a slight smile on his face.  “Your mother has been most eloquent in pointing out some of the holes in my plans for you.  Not least that I actually want you to be happy.  So you don’t have to do this just to avoid my machinations.”

Pansy felt her eyes go wide with shock.  She had been groomed to accept that she wouldn’t have a choice when it came to choosing a husband.  It had been her main secret reason for hiding her looks.  She knew that if Draco had known what she really looked like, he would have been pestering his Dad to get them married as soon as possible, and she would have ended up a useless alcoholic like Narcissa Malfoy.

As it was, her disguised looks and annoying habit of pretending to fawn over Malfoy had meant that the young man had tried to stay away.  It had been stupidly easy to manipulate him.  He probably thought that reverse psychology was a sexual position.

Still, that didn’t change that marrying Harry would have a lot of benefits.  He was definitely the loyal type, and gentle, so she wouldn’t have to worry about being abused, or having the public embarrassment of her husband cheating on her.  He was rich, so he wasn’t a gold digger; he was cute - that was a given - and he had a lot of inner strength.  If she could get him to fall in love with her, and her him, it would be a partnership that could take her to all the places her ambition wanted her to go.

She looked up at her parents and said simply.  “I want to do this.  You’ve always taught me that a Parkinson pulls victory out of the jaws of defeat, and always has a plan.  We’re facing losing everything, because of a stuck-up prick and his group of sycophants.  If I can help us turn this around and end up with a wonderful man for a husband, and Malfoy Manor, then I’ll have lived up to my family name.”

“Mr Dursley?”

“Yes, Mr Sampson,” Vernon Dursley simpered.  “What can I do for you?”

“Your performance as Sales Director has been noted by our parent company, and as such, you are in line for a possible promotion.”

“Yes, sir,” Vernon said, a look of pride appearing on his face.

“The owner of the company would like to meet you.  He feels that it would be of great benefit if he saw you in your home environment.  Mr Parkinson is a firm believer in family.”

“Of course,” Vernon nodded eagerly.  “My family means everything to me.”

“If you are free on Wednesday, he will come to your house for dinner and to have a chat about the position.”

“That would be wonderful.”  Vernon paused for a second, and then blurted, “Do you know what position he has in mind?”

Mr Sampson peered over his glasses.  “Mr Parkinson has not informed me of his plans.  However, it would be natural to assume a pay rise that would correspond to your new responsibilities.”

Vernon nodded eagerly again, having reached his gamut of physical responses.

“Mr Parkinson will be bringing his daughter with him, as well as his wife.”

“Petunia!” Vernon shouted, as he exploded into the house.  “Dudley! Get down here.”

“Why, what ever is the matter?” Petunia asked, walking out of the kitchen, after hanging up the phone.

“Wonderful news!  The owner of GP International, our parent company, is coming here on Wednesday for dinner. He’s bringing his wife and daughter.  If it goes well, I will be promoted to the parent company!”

“Oh, Vernon,” Petunia whispered breathlessly, and then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.  “That’s wonderful news.”

The loud clomping of feet announced the arrival of their elephantine son.  “Yo, wassup?”  Dudley demanded, his arms folded in front of him.

“Duddikins, what have we said about talking like that at home?”

Dudley rolled his pig-like eyes.  “Don’t,” he mimicked.

“Exactly.  Now, listen carefully son.  I have a chance of a huge promotion.  My ultimate boss will be visiting on Wednesday with his wife and daughter.  You have to be on your best behaviour and in your smartest clothes.”

“I’ll bet she’s a right heifer,” Dudley sniffed.  “What’s in it for me?”

“A car on your seventeenth birthday,” Vernon promised.

“Really?” Dudley said, his eyes going wide.

“If I get the promotion, it will mean moving to a new bigger house!”

“I’ll charm the socks off the fat cow,” Dudley vowed.

“Dad?”

“Yes Pansy?”

“How come the spells that are supposed to protect Harry aren’t affecting us?” she asked, as they approached the house in Privet drive.

“There are two main spells.  Both based on blood protection.  One is to stop people from finding him; the other is to keep out people who mean him harm.”  He sniffed despairingly.  “It’s a pretty poor setup.  All it would need is Voldemort to find out he’s here, and half the magic has already failed.  I’m sure he could entice Potter out by killing a few Muggles.”

“Doesn’t it strike you as strange that the person supposed to save the world is living here?”

“It’s security through obscurity, honey.  It’s a stupid idea that never works.  It’s this sort of thinking that is why we’ve never been on Albus’ side.  It’s sloppy, short-sighted behaviour.  No attention to detail.  They’d never be able to make a living if you took away their wands.”

“At least Harry has relatives that care for him,” Pansy sighed.

“You seem awfully fond of him,” her mother pointed out, as her father expertly parked the Bentley at the edge of the curb.

Pansy smiled slightly, “Maybe I’ve had a slight crush on him,” she admitted.  “He looks great when he plays Quidditch, and he’s willing to stick to his principles, regardless of the cost.  And besides, I saw the photos of the battle at the Ministry.  He can look after himself, and he taught his friends to fight as well.  It’s hard not to have a small crush on him.”

“Just be careful.”

“Always Mum.”

They stepped out of the car, all three of them pretending not to notice the twitching of the curtains.

Dudley Dursley, dressed in his finest trousers and shirt, stole a quick glance out of the lace curtains in the living room, and gasped.

“Duddikins?” Petunia asked, suddenly worried.

“She’s beautiful,” Dudley stammered, moving away from the curtains, his thoughts of describing her as a heifer completely forgotten.  “She’s an angel!”

He collapsed on the edge of the sofa, his mind full of the image he had just seen.  The girl could only have been his age and was quite tall.  She had the most beautiful hair he had ever seen: long, straight and a light chestnut colour that hung down to her mid-back.  She was wearing a black dress that revealed flawless shoulders and emphasised a slim waist, before flaring out to perfect hips.  The dress covered her down to her knees, before stopping, revealing lightly sun-tanned calves that ended in low black heels.  He couldn’t wait to see what she looked like up close.

Petunia and Vernon shared an amused glance.  “You’d be perfect for her,” Vernon said loudly.

All three of them jumped as the doorbell rang once.  Vernon glared at his wife and only son.  “Remember, best behaviour.”

He walked to the hall and opened the door.

Pansy followed her father into the narrow hallway of the house.  She looked around curiously, keeping her thoughts about the atrocious wallpaper to herself.

Vernon, a rather fat Muggle who appeared to be Harry’s uncle, invited them into a dining room that he was overtly proud of.

It wouldn’t have been used by the staff in their mansion.  They had a kennel bigger than the room.

Inside was a tall thin woman, who was introduced as Petunia.  Pansy was vaguely amused by the fact that Lily Potter had obviously got the looks in the family.  This woman had a pinched look to her, as if she had a mean side.

Next to her was what she presumed was a large teenage male, and not, as she had first thought, a trained rhinoceros.  The blubber-filled Muggle was smiling at her in a way that was disturbingly familiar - it was exactly the same way that Draco had stared at Daphne.  She sighed, suddenly realising that Harry’s family wasn’t going to live up to her expectations.

“I thought you had two children,” Malcom said after the introductions had been made, and after Pansy had found out that the whale was called Dudley.

“Oh I’m afraid that our nephew is grounded at the moment.  Terrible child.  We took him when his parents were killed in a car crash.  He’s been nothing but trouble.  He goes to St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys.”

“Ahh,” Malcom said politely, before changing the subject smoothly.

Pansy sat at the table, her mind running on autopilot.  She was trying to work out what the hell was going on.  What the hell was St Brutus’?

Petunia quickly served them all dinner, bringing out roast beef and Yorkshire puddings, with plenty of gravy.

“Ahh, splendid,” Malcom announced cheerfully.  “I’m lucky I brought just the wine for the occasion.”  He pulled a bottle of red wine out of nowhere - a fact that was completely missed by their hosts - and quickly poured all six people at the table a glass.

She watched as Dudley looked shocked for a second that he was given alcohol, and then saw him try and hide it and appear sophisticated.  She felt a brief surge of Magic as her father finished serving the Dursleys and poured their own.  She smiled to herself; dad had obviously made sure there was no alcohol in their drinks, while increasing the alcohol in the Dursleys’.  It was a very good way of finding out exactly what people were really thinking.

The dinner passed relative quickly, with the adults dominating the conversations.  The roast beef would have been used to feed their pet dogs at home - as punishment for them being bad.  Vernon had been eating it, while showing a quite disgusting habit of chomping loudly with his food, as if he couldn’t breathe through his nose.  Her appetite had been completely destroyed when she had seen that Dudley was plainly following in his father’s footsteps.

After a passable apple pie, and several glasses of wine, Petunia and Vernon Dursley were obviously slightly drunk and were regaling them with tales of Dudley’s perfection.

The ball of fat himself was listening in with an enraptured expression on his face, obviously enjoying being the centre of attention.  She kept a suitable impressed expression on her face, wondering how the hell Harry had turned out as he had, when being brought up with these disgusting examples of Muggle-kind.

“Dudley, why don’t you show me your room?” she asked, knowing that the Dursleys would talk a lot more if the “kids” were out of the way.

Dudley nodded and shot to his feet.

The dinner conversation was boring the hell out of him, but it was worth it just to be near the angel who was sitting opposite him.

Every now and again she would smile at him, and he would feel his heart rate increase a little more.

Now that he could see her up close, he was convinced that she was the most beautiful girl in the world.  Her face was dominated by deep grey eyes, framed by long eyelashes.  Her small nose led the way down to the most amazing lips he’d ever seen.

Dinner passed in a flash, and his mother’s fabulous apple pie was a perfect ending to the meal.  He had several glasses of the wine that Mr Parkinson kept dolling out to him, hoping to impress Pansy with his drinking ability.  He’d been excited when she had been introduced.  His father had married a woman with a flower name, and he now hoped to as well.

“Dudley,” he watched the lips move, entranced.  “Why don’t you show me your room?”

He shot to his feet as soon as he could, barely managing to avoid upsetting the table.  He gestured for her to precede him, wanting to see if he could get a glimpse up her dress as they went up the stairs.

Pansy smiled at him gently and absently put an arm around him, lightly touching his shoulder.  Before he knew it, he was preceding her up the stairs and couldn’t stop without being obvious.

He led her into his bedroom, relieved that his mother had cleaned for him today, just in case.

Pansy sat down daintily on the edge of his large bed.

He moved to sit next to her only to find that, as he sat down she had moved over to examine one of his bookcases.  He realised instantly that it was just coincidence - her movement had been too natural for it to have been otherwise.

She pulled a book out a random.  “Macbeth?  You like Shakespeare?”

“Yeah,” Dudley said, vaguely remembering doing a small project on it.

“My favourite part is act two, scene two.”  She closed the book, and closed her eyes, as if in thought.  “What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals!”

Dudley gasped softly at her; with her eyes closed he could run his eyes over her body with impunity, and he had done so.  “Yeah,” he said.  “That’s the best part of Macbeth, by far.”

Pansy smiled warmly at him.  “So, what’s your cousin like?”

Dudley shrugged.  “Stupid weakling really.  We used to beat him up all the time,” he boasted.  He felt a little lightheaded, probably from the wine, but he could see that she was impressed.  “He’s a freak,” he confided.

Pansy sighed as Dudley gestured for her to climb the steep stairs first.  With a practised ease that came from dealing with Draco for so many years, she lightly placed an arm around the large boy and guided him in front of her.  She made a mental note to scour her skin where it had touched him later.

His bedroom was filled with all sorts of Muggle gadgets, and had absolutely no style at all.  The walls were painted in a solid blue, which gave the whole room a slightly creepy feel.

Carefully, she perched herself on the edge of the bed, and then stood gracefully as he tried to sit next to her.  She walked over to the only bookcase in the room, absently noting the dust on the shelf.  She pulled out a copy of Macbeth, and turned to face Dudley.  “Macbeth?  You like Shakespeare?”

He nodded eagerly, grunting something incomprehensible.  “My favourite part is act two, scene two,” she told him, then closed her eyes and recited her favourite part of Hamlet to him.

She could actually feel his eyes crawling over her body, and thought that Harry had better appreciate what she was going through to talk to him.

After Dudley had proven his ignorance, she took the opportunity to ask about Harry to see what he thought about his cousin.

Dudley shrugged.  “Stupid weakling really.  We used to beat him up all the time,” he boasted.  “He’s a freak.”

Hiding her growing horror, she knelt on the floor in front of him and leaned back a little, fully aware of where the toad’s eyes would go.  “Tell me more,” she whispered.

Dudley smiled, his eyes firmly staring down her top, and started to talk.

She listened, unmoving, as Dudley told her about him living in the cupboard, the beatings he would give him, and how he deliberately ruined any friends he might have.  He reeled of a litany of bruises, kicks, and punches that he had given the boy, and boasted about how badly his father and mother had as well, glorifying in how Harry had been forced to cook and clean for them.

It was when he proudly stated about it being a day before they had taken Harry to hospital for a broken arm that she finally moved.

The movement was fast and simple.  Her right hand drew back, then launched forward with all her weight behind it, snapping at the last minute to ensure that she caught him perfectly.

The fat git keeled over backwards, unconscious before he hit the mattress.

With fire in her eyes, she stormed out of his room and headed towards the dimly lit far end.  There was a door there with several locks on it.  She realised she needed her wand, and marched downstairs, quite prepared to just grab her wand and hex the hell out of the Dursleys.

She walked into the living room and paused.  Her parents were sitting on the couch, in a deep conversation with each other, while the two Dursleys were frozen in place.

“We couldn’t take talking to them anymore, so they’re under the Imperio us,” Malcom explained cheerfully.  “How’s Dudley.”

She held out her hand, showing the slight bruising across her knuckles.  “Unconscious, the hard way.”

“I take it you got him to talk?”

“Yeah,” Pansy spat, disgustedly.  “He boasted about beating the hell out of Harry.  Harry’s locked in a room; I need my wand to open the locks.”

Her mother reached into her purse and pulled out her daughter’s wand.  “Take your time,” she smiled at Pansy.

“Thanks mum,” she ran back up stairs.

“Alohomora ,” she chanted, pointing at the door.

The four locks opened with a click.

Taking a deep breath, Pansy pushed open the door and walked into the small room.

For a second, she had to blink to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming - that this hovel was in the same house as the rest of the rooms she had been in.  It was cold, freezing in fact.  In the corner, Harry’s owl rested, looking like she needed some food urgently.  The bare floor was coated in dust, and she cautiously took a few steps forward to the hunched up form she could see in the far corner.

“No, no, no, Sirius, no, I’m sorry,” she heard him whisper, as he tossed and turned in his bed.

“Harry,” she said softly.  “Wake up, Harry.”  She reached out and touched him.

Harry’s eyes sprung open, wildly, not focusing properly without his glasses.

“Shh,” she whispered softly.  “It’s alright, I promise.”

Harry looked at her, shaking slightly in the cold, fear visible in his face.

Pansy reached out, and lightly touched his forehead, wincing slightly as she felt the fever.  “We’re going to take you out of here,” she whispered.

“No!” Harry mumbled, feverishly.  “Can’t leave, hurt people.”

“We won’t hurt you, Harry, I promise.”

Harry shook his head violently, his whole body moving with him.  “No, I’ll hurt you, get you killed.  Always happens.  Sirius, parents, all dead.”

“You won’t Harry.  I promise you.”

“V-V-V-Volde...”

“Voldemort wants you, I know.  We’re safe from him.”

“You can say his name,” Harry said, shock in his voice.  “I’m the only one.”

“No, not anymore Harry,” Pansy whispered softly.  “Let me take you away from here.  I promise you’ll be safe.”

“No more Dursleys?” the hope in his voice tore through her.

“You’ll never have to see them again.”

“Promise?” he asked again.

“I promise.”

Harry reached up, his hand shaking with effort.  “Angel,” he whispered, as he touched her cheek softly.

Pansy took his hand and softly kissed it.  “Your angel,” she agreed.  “Sleep, I’ll take care of you.”

Harry nodded and fell back asleep instantly.

Pansy waited a few seconds, and then crept out of the room, before running down the stairs.

“What is it?” Gruoch asked.

“He’s feverish, it looks like he hasn’t had a decent meal since school, and he thinks I’m his angel.”

Malcom smiled faintly.  “Aren’t you?”

Pansy took a deep breath.  “That depends on you.  We need to get him the hell out of here, and I promised that I would take care of him.  He can’t fight Voldemort in this state, and quite frankly, when I next see Dumbledore I’m going to find out just exactly why keeping Harry in these appalling conditions is so necessary.”  She took a deep breath.  “Do you know what he was worried about?”

Both her parents shook their heads mutely, deciding it was wise not to draw her ire onto them.

“Hurting us - because everyone who tries to help him gets hurt.  He has way too much guilt, and he seems to blame himself for Black’s death.”

“The one Bella put through the Veil?”

“Yeah.  So,” her lips curved slightly.  “Can I keep him?”

Malcom and Gruoch exchanged a quick look, and then nodded.  “He’d be better protected at our place than the amateur shields on this place.  Besides, we owe it to James and Lily.”

“Can I have some help then?”

“You go, honey,” Malcom said to his wife.  “I want a word with our gracious hosts.”

The two Parkinsons went back upstairs, the elder not jogging up the stairs like her daughter.

Gruoch sniffed dismissively.  “Albus has kept Potter in this condition? With these people? And people call us evil.  Even our dungeons are nicer than this.”

Pansy nodded.  “And we feed our prisoners.  Look at him.”

“Pick him up, dear.  I’ll get his stuff.”  She pulled out her wand, and cast a revealing spell on the room.

Pansy walked over to the bed again and carefully wrapped Harry up in his thin blanket, pocketing his glasses.  She took a step back, and pointed her wand at him, casting a levitation spell.

Gruoch walked over to the cage, and released the snowy white Owl.  “Go to Parkinson Manor,” she commanded the bird.

Hedwig hooted once, and then flew out through the doorway and down the stairs.

“This will help,” her mother said quietly, offering her Harry’s invisibility cloak.

“I knew he had one of these,” Pansy announced.  “It’s the only way he could have got away with some of the things he’s done.  And yeah, it will be easier.  We can just walk out with him hidden, and no one will know anything.”

Gruoch smiled.  “Proof that he wasn’t safe here anyway.”

They walked downstairs together, the invisible, well-wrapped Harry and his trunk floating after them.

“What have you done to them, Dad?” Pansy asked, as she looked at the two Muggles.

“They’re going to have an overwhelming urge to confess their mistreatment of Harry to the police tomorrow morning, which when combined with Harry’s unexplainable absence will cause them no end of trouble.  And tomorrow afternoon, Mr Dursley is going to be fired with extreme prejudice.  The only job he will be able to get will be stacking shelves in a supermarket.”

“Can you release them? I want a word before we go.”

“Of course, dear.”

Petunia and Vernon suddenly looked around, then saw the wands in their visitors’ hands, and screamed.

“Silencio ,” Pansy hissed, her wand trained on both of them.  When she had their attention, she released the silencing charm.

“I came here tonight to see a friend of mine.  A man I know to be brave, honourable, and honest.  I thought that I’d be able to see how he lives, see the people who turned him into the upstanding person that he is, and ask him the biggest favour of my life.

“Instead I find a family of freaks, of the most disgusting Muggles that I have ever come into contact with.  With an imbecilic son who thinks that he can impress me by staring down my dress and boasting about bullying another person.  You’ll find the fat whale unconscious on his bed; he’ll wake up with a broken jaw from where I hit him.

“How Harry has become what he has when dealing with you, I will never know.  It says much more about him than I had ever known.”

Her eyes were flashing with barely repressed fury.  “You could have had everything: more money than you could have dreamed of - as we rewarded you for the care and well-being of Harry - respect and status for being with the social Elite, and your dream job.  Instead, we leave you with nothing, worse than nothing.

“We’re taking Harry with us; he’ll be safe with us.”

“But the blood protection?” Petunia blurted.

Pansy’s lips curled cruelly.  “Without him, you’ll be defenceless.  Pity.”

The two adults paled dramatically.

“Now look here,” Vernon demanded.

“Be quiet you ignorant Muggle,” Pansy sneered.  “You’ve made your bed, have the dignity to lie in it.”

She took a deep breath and looked around.  “And your sense of fashion is appalling.  We wouldn’t decorate our servant quarters like this.”

She turned on her heel and marched out, Harry still floating behind her, completely invisible.

“I’ll be talking to you tomorrow, Dursley,” Malcom announced cheerfully.  “Don’t forget what I said.”

They walked out together, following their daughter and the invisibly floating Boy Who Lived.

The drive out back to the Parkinson family manor was silent.  Harry was lying across the back seat, his head in Pansy's lap, shivering even under the blanket and his invisibility cloak.

Pansy was lightly stroking his hair, while she tried to deal with her anger.  It was on the tip of her tongue to order her family to turn around so she could burn the house to the ground.  Maybe leave the Dursleys fate up to chance... if they got out, they survived.

"What do you think is wrong with him?" she eventually asked, trying to focus her mind on something other than revenge.

"Malnutrition, wizarding flu, and probably depression.  A couple of potions will take care of the first two; the last might be more difficult."

Pansy nodded.  "Not a problem.  I'm starting to wonder what else is wrong with him.  How the hell is he supposed to be able to fight in this condition?  What the hell has Dumbledore been playing at?"

"I don't know," Malcom sighed.  "And people call us evil."

"Ok," Pansy said.  "Here's what I'm planning.  We get Harry well physically, as soon as possible, and then I'll help him deal with death. He needs a Slytherin’s perspective on how to handle it.   Then we find out where he is when it comes to actual fighting.  I know that he's the best at magical duelling in the school, but that's not really saying much.  Dad, we'll need to hire some of the best to teach him how to fight properly, so he won’t have to just rely on magic.  I'll help him get physically fit; he's wasn't too unfit at school, from duelling and Quidditch, but that's probably gone."

"Why are you doing this, Pansy," Gruoch asked gently, twisting in her seat to look at her daughter.

She looked pensive for a few moments, staring out the window.  Slowly, she turned and faced her mother.  "Because he could be the future I want," she replied simply.

"There is only six weeks before school starts," Malcom mused idly, his strong hands steering the powerful Mercedes through the streets with a competent ease.  "Which isn't long, especially to teach you both to fight properly.  You'll both have to use the Time Turner."

"Good idea, dad," Pansy smiled, relaxing a bit.  She didn't really know why she was doing this for Harry.  Seeing him lying in the squalid filth, feverish, had touched her in places she thought she had blocked off, and when his only concern had been about her, she realised once and for all what made up Harry Potter.  That he was as nice as he seemed - that it wasn't an act to hide some strange madness.

He was the only wizard in the world like that; he was unique.  And if anyone was suitable to coax him into being the best he could be, she was the best candidate.

As they passed under a motorway bridge, the car shimmered and shifted. The large BMW Seven series that replaced the Mercedes was a different colour, but was as large inside.

"I'll put him in the room next to mine," Pansy said, levitating Harry out of the car.  "Then I'll go to bed myself.  See you for breakfast?"

Malcom nodded.  "I'll go into work a little late, and we'll see what we can arrange for his training."

"We'll have to take him shopping as well, and burn that excuse for clothing he has at the moment."

One of their house-elves opened the door, took a look at the boy they were levitating in, and popped out of sight.

"That was strange," Gruoch muttered, suddenly reaching for her wand. Next to her, her husband was doing the same thing.

Before they could get any further there was another pop, and a new house-elf appeared.  This one was wearing more clothing than a normal House-elf, and had a very stern expression on his face.  "What are you doing with Harry Potter sir," he demanded.

Before her parents could react, Pansy took several steps forward.  "Dobby, right?"

Dobby nodded, not showing any fear as she walked nearer.

"We've just been to see Harry at the Dursleys.  We found him like this.  We're going to look after him."  She deliberately used small sentences, not sure how this House-elf would react, so she wanted to make it very clear what was going on.

"Professor Dumbledore sir say Harry Potter sir safe at Dursleys," Dobby protested, frowning at her.

Pansy moved, pulling back the blanket, showing Harry's fevered face, and the visible gauntness.  "He might have been safe from Voldemort, but he wasn't safe from them or himself."

Dobby gasped in horror, as his big wide eyes suddenly hardened.

"Don't!" Pansy shouted, suddenly realising what he was about to do.

"Dumbledore wrong, Harry Potter sir hurt.  Dobby make filthy Muggles pay.  Turn them into pigs!"

Pansy shook her head slowly.  "You don't need to do that, Dobby," she said gently.  "Tomorrow, they are going to be confessing their mistreatment to Muggle law enforcers.  The big Dursley is going to lose his job, and won't be able to get another.  By the time Dad has finished with him, he'll only be suitable for the most dangerous and degrading jobs."

"Dobby is free elf now; Dobby can avenge Harry Potter sir’s abuse. Harry Potter sir always good to Dobby, even when Dobby was bad."

Pansy dropped to one knee in front of Dobby, and reached out to slowly touch his shoulder.  "Would Harry want you to avenge him?"

Reluctantly, Dobby shook his head.  "Harry Potter is a great and kind wizard."

Pansy nodded.  "Instead, why don't you stay here with us for the summer, and you can help me look after Harry."

Dobby's eyes went wider than normal.  "Mistress serious?"

Pansy nodded solemnly.  "You are welcome to stay with us.  If you'd like, you can take him to the room next to mine, while I go and get some potions to make him better.  His trunk is in the back of the car.”

Dobby bowed deeply to Pansy, before turning and walking off, Harry floating behind him.

Pansy turned to her parents and dropped the kind expression.  "Study?"

Her parents nodded and followed her into the comfortable book-lined room.  Pansy curled up on one chair, while her parents sat opposite her.  "So," she started.  "Today we learnt that a, Harry inspires some incredibly loyalty in creatures that most wizards look down on.  And b, perhaps more worryingly, house-elves aren't quite as loyal to us as we had presumed."

Her father nodded.  "This is very interesting.  That first elf had obviously been ordered, probably by Dobby, to get him if she saw Harry.  We can presume that every house-elf was under those orders, as there was no way he could have known beforehand that Harry would come here first.  We also seem to have underestimated just how magical they are.  Dobby took control of that Levitation without a wand, and without any visible effort."

"So," Gruoch said calmly.  "How can we profit from this situation?"

"I'm not sure that we can at the moment.  Insufficient knowledge. However, Pansy, you were absolutely right to invite Dobby to stay. He's obviously the principle in this matter.  I'm glad to see you following your instincts."

Pansy blushed under her father’s praise.

"First, we get another house-elf, and obviously an intelligent one. Harry gets someone he is familiar with, in case he's worried about staying here.  And you both get a bodyguard.  An entirely satisfactory scenario and the chance that we might be able to profit from this as well..." he trailed off, looking into the distance.

"Malcom?"

He smiled slowly, and looked down at them.  "How many house-elves work for Death Eaters?"

Pansy shrugged.

"You never notice them," he continued.  "They could be a great spy network.  Harry should be able to persuade Dobby to find out anything and everything.  It's a pity Voldemort thinks they are useless, otherwise it would be perfect."

Pansy smiled broadly.  "So, for the first time in history, we're looking at the ancient Houses of Parkinson and Potter working together.  The honourable and the brave, working with the intelligent and the ambitious."

Gruoch smiled as well.  "I believe that we have chosen the correct side.  Pansy, what ever Harry needs, we'll get for him.  Don't worry about money.  This is an investment that is definitely worth it.  Now, why don't you go get Harry some potions from the storage cabinet?"

"Yes, mum," Pansy said, as she walked out the door.

Pansy took the two potions up to the room to find Harry already under the covers, looking cleaner than he had before.   Dobby was no where to be seen, so she walked over to the bed and stared down at the boy she hardly knew yet needed more than anyone else in the world. Without his glasses, he looked innocent, the sort of innocence that was made of strength.  The sort that kept itself intact, even when dragged through the gutter.

She sat down softly, and gently touched his face.

His eyes flickered open.  "Angel?" he asked softly.

"I'm here Harry.  I've got a couple of potions for you to take."

He nodded slowly, as if the effort was almost beyond him.  "Don't want to sleep," he whispered.  "Don't want to see them die again."

"Shh," Pansy whispered, uncorking the first potion.  "I promise you that I won't let the nightmares come tonight."

He grabbed her hand, as he peered at her, his eyes trying to focus on her.  “Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re more than welcome, Harry.  Now drink this, it will bring your fever down.”

He tried weakly to sit up but couldn’t quite make it, so she sat next to him and lifted him into a sitting position.  He rested against her, groaning softly.

“Shhh,” she whispered, putting the bottle to his lips, watching as he drained it.

“Euch,” he whispered.  “That has to be good for me; nothing that tastes that bad can actually do me harm.”

Pansy laughed softly.  “Now this one, it tastes a little better.”

“What is it?”

“Nutrient potion.  Should fill your body back up with what it needs.”

“’Kay,” Harry nodded tiredly, “Nicer,” he commented as he drained the second vial.

Pansy nodded, and slowly helped him lie back down.

“Why are you helping me?” Harry asked, the first potion having an obvious effect on him.

“Because I need your help.  When you’re wake up, we’ll talk properly.”

Harry reached out and felt for her hand.  Very slowly, he lifted it to his lips and gently kissed her.  “I owe you my life,” he whispered simply.  “What ever help I can give is yours.”

His eyes drifted shut, and a second later he was asleep.

Pansy looked at her fingers, surprised to find them still tingling.  A wry smile appeared on her face as she realised that, for all her confident words earlier, she had no idea if Harry could ever have any romantic feelings for her.  It was the one flaw in her plan.

She shifted slightly, sliding off the bed, and walked over to the door connecting his room to hers.  She walked into her room briefly and grabbed a pair of pyjamas, before returning into Harry’s room, so she could continue to keep an eye on him.

Carelessly, she reached behind and undid the zip holding her dress up, letting it pool by her feet, her mind suddenly wondering what it would be like to do this with those emerald eyes staring at her, staring at her with want and need.

She shivered slightly and pulled on the pyjamas.  She placed her earrings on the desk, and walked back over to the bed.

Harry was already in the throes of another nightmare.  It made her wonder when the last time he had actually had a decent night’s sleep was.  Resolving to take it out on Dumbledore the next time she saw him, she climbed into the bed and pulled him into a hug, resolving not to get any sleep herself.

He calmed down as soon as she touched him, and it wasn’t long before she fell asleep herself, even though she firmly told herself not to.

“Albus, we have an emergency,” the panicked voice of Arabella Figg cried into the floo.

“What’s happened?” Albus asked, from his desk at Hogwarts.  Opposite him were Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall.

“There are three police cars outside the Dursleys,” Arabella said, obviously upset.  “I can’t find out what they are doing, but I heard them talk about disgusting child abuse and a missing boy.  And it’s not Dudley.  He was taken to hospital earlier with a broken jaw.”

Albus frowned.  “Did anything happen last night?”

“The Dursleys had some Muggle guests.  They were in a black Mercedes.  They left at around ten, and that was it.  The wards are still intact.”

“So Potter ran away?” Snape sneered.  “What, his breakfast not cooked for exactly five minutes, forty-five seconds?”

Dumbledore fixed his potions professor with a reproachful look.  “I’m afraid not, Severus.  If Harry steps foot out of the house at night voluntarily, the wards tell me.  And with his Firebolt at Hogwarts, he couldn’t have flown.”

McGonagall frowned.  “So he’s still in the house?”

“I would presume so.  He may be hiding under his invisibility cloak, if he doesn’t know what the police are there for.  I shall send Tonks and Remus to investigate immediately, Arabella.”

It was less than half an hour later when Tonks approached the house, dressed in full Muggle clothing.

“I’m Tracy Jones, from Social Services,” she introduced herself, holding up a wallet to appear like identification.

“About time you got here,” the policeman snorted.  “I was getting close to taking them out back and letting them resist arrest.”

Tonks raised her eyebrows and walked into the house quickly.  Her hair was a light brown and was wrapped up in a bun on her head.

“I’m from Social Services, Tracy Jones,” she introduced herself.

“They’re in there,” a female officer spat.  “If they give you any trouble, just say the word.”  The fact that she was fingering her baton at the time had Tonks worried.

Tonks pulled out her wand as she closed the kitchen door, and sealed it quickly.  She turned to the Dursleys, and snarled, “Where the hell is Harry?”

“Oh,” Vernon said.  “You're one of them, are you?”

Petunia looked up, a blank incurious expression on her face, that told Tonks more than anything else that she was under some sort of compulsion spell.  “A wizard, yes,” Tonks replied.

“So, you'll be wanting to know why we've not been near that damn boy for the last week?”

Tonks nodded.

“He had one of you strange diseases,” Petunia explained cheerfully.  “We didn't want to catch the damn thing, or for him to infect our poor Duddikins, so we locked him up until one of you lot came to check on him.”

“Why didn't you let someone know?”

“How could we?” Vernon asked.  “Those other ones threatened us to make sure we looked after the ungrateful brat better than we had in the past, and we did.  We allowed him to have his trunk, his unnatural belongings, and his stupid pet.  They didn't tell us how to contact them.  What more were we supposed to do?”

“Care for him,” Tonks growled.   “And what do you mean better than you have in the past?”

After thirty extremely unpleasant minutes, she asked a simply question: “Why?”

“Why not,” Vernon shrugged.  “He was there, we didn’t want him.  Why should we have wasted good money and effort looking after him?  We had our own son to take care of properly.”

Tonks walked stiffly out the room, every step a testament to her willpower, her wand hidden again.  She was pretty sure that what ever spell they were under made sure that they would not be able to talk about magic to anyone who wasn't a wizard.  Each step took her further from the temptation, from the sure knowledge that she now hated someone enough to cast the Cruciatus curse.

“Nice piece of work, aren’t they,” One of the officers said.  “Think we’ll be able to get a sentence for them?”

“If I have anything to do with it,” Tonks snarled, “They’ll spend the rest of their lives rotting in jail.”  She took a deep breath.  “I should see where they kept him.”

“Upstairs, last room on the right.  It’s not pretty.  I wouldn’t keep my dogs in that sort of state.”

Tonks jogged upstairs and entered the room, closing the door behind her.

“Harry?” she asked, morphing into the same shape he had last seen her in.  “It’s me, Tonks.”

She realised that the room felt empty.  She pulled her wand, and quickly cast another few spells, verifying that the room was indeed empty.

With a deep sigh, she turned back into Tracy and walked out the door and out the house, promising to send them her report as soon as possible.

“Well?” Remus asked, as he moved next to her.

Tonks was now shaking in fury.  “We need to get to Hogwarts.  I’m not telling this story twice.”

Together, they Apparated to Hogsmeade and jogged up to Hogwarts Castle, quickly moving straight to the Headmasters study.

Tonks walked straight over to the corner, and poured herself a Firewhiskey, using the distraction to rein in her desire to curse the Headmaster on sight.

“Exactly what were you hoping to accomplish putting Harry with those disgusting Muggles?” she demanded, fixing Dumbledore with a steely stare.

“That he would grow up with family, without the pressures of being the Boy Who Lived,” Dumbledore replied calmly.

“Did you check on him while he was there?”

“I had Arabella outside, keeping an eye on him.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Tonks hissed.  She threw off Remus’ arm as he tried to restrain her.  “Did you check up on Harry while he was with them?”

“No,” Dumbledore confessed.  “Why?”

“His egg not boiled enough in the morning?” Snape sneered.

Tonks moved, faster than she ever had before, and picked up the tall Professor by his throat, and slammed him in the wall.  Holding him up with one hand, she pointed her wand straight at his face with her other hand.  “I found out today that I do have enough hate to cast the Cruciatus,” she snarled.  “And if I ever hear you say anything bad to or about Harry, I will make it my personal goal to make the rest of your life a living hell.”  Her now black eyes peered deep into Snape’s, before she dropped him.

She turned back to Dumbledore.  “How was leaving him in a place where they starved him for weeks on end, helpful?  How was letting him grow up in a place where he was forced to sleep in a cupboard protecting him? How was making him live with people who didn’t even take him to the hospital when he had a broken arm good for him?”

Dumbledore’s eyes slowly lost their twinkle.  “Explain, please.”

Tonks slumped down into a chair and grabbed Remus’ hand.  In a dead voice, she repeated what the Dursleys had told her about Harry growing up.

When she had finished, she continued, “It sounds like Harry had the Wizarding flu.  They didn't know how to deal with it, so they locked him up in his room so he wouldn't infect them.  Why didn't we give them a means of contacting us?”

“Arabella was there to keep an eye out for that sort of thing,” Dumbledore explained softly.

“And how was she supposed to know what was going on inside the house?”

“So where is Harry now?” Remus interrupted, tension visible on his face.

“I don’t know,” Tonks sighed.  “Everything was gone from his room, even Hedwig.”

“But how?” Remus asked. “I thought the wards were supposed to protect him from wizards, and only wizards could have pulled this off.”

“I don’t know,” Albus admitted.  “But we’ll start a search immediately.”

“I’ll see what Voldemort knows,” Snape said.

“I’ll call the rest of the Order.”  Dumbledore sighed, and moved to his fireplace.

“I’m not looking forward to telling Molly.”

Pansy woke up suddenly to find a pair of green eyes staring intently at her.

“Where are my glasses,” Harry asked evenly.

Pansy reached behind her and picked them up from the bedside table.  She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and now had no clue how to even try and explain to Harry just why she had spent the night with him.

A clock on the wall told her that it was late in the morning, and that she had slept in a lot longer than she had in a very long time.

Harry pulled his glasses on and twisted slightly to look at her directly.

Pansy felt herself blushing.

“So I wasn’t dreaming,” Harry murmured.   “An angel really did rescue me last night.”

“You’re not scared?” she asked, suddenly realising that he wasn’t.

“In my experience,” he said dryly.  “Voldemort isn’t in the habit of rescuing me, giving me potions to help me get better, looking after me, and leaving me with a beautiful nurse.”

Pansy felt herself blushing for the second time in as many minutes.

“I would like to know who you are, and why you have helped me,” Harry finished.

“You don’t recognise me?” she asked, suddenly smiling.

Harry started to shake his head, and then paused.  He tilted his head and stared at her hard, his eyes skimming over her face.

He slowly started to laugh, collapsing against the bed.  “I don’t suppose you know the temperature in hell at the moment, do you?”

“What?”

“I’m just wondering if the devil’s ice skates got to him in time.”

“Are you feeling alright? You’re sounding delirious.”

Harry shifted to face her again.  “Parkinson,” he said bluntly, his voice losing some of its open friendliness.

“I prefer Pansy,” she whispered.  “Look, would it help if I apologised for being on Umbridge’s squad? And for being a bitch to you for the past five years?”

She felt him stare at her, and shifted slightly, but didn’t avoid his gaze.  She felt vulnerable, and it was a feeling she did not like.

“I think it would,” Harry replied.

Pansy squared her shoulders.  “I’m sorry,” she said simply.  “I believe I made the best decisions for my own safety.”

She could still feel his eyes on her.  Eventually, he reached out a hand.  “Hi, I’m Harry Potter,” he introduced himself.

“Pansy Parkinson,” she smiled, taking his hand and shaking it.  “How did you recognise me?”

“Well, first off, this room is palatial.  So you’re obviously rich.  That narrowed it down.  You look my age, so that narrowed it down further.  You obviously seem to trust me, because you spent the night with me, so that would mean that you’re in my year.  You called me Harry, so we’ve talked before, and that puts you in my classes.

“So that narrowed it down to three.  You, Hannah, and Daphne.  And you don’t look like Hannah, Daphne, or yourself.”

“So how did you know?”

Harry smiled slightly.  “I always felt there was something fake about you: something not quite right.  I suddenly realised that you must have been hiding under a spell.”

Pansy clapped her hands together.  “Ten house points to Gryffindor.”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the pop of an incoming house-elf.

“Harry Potter sir is awake,” Dobby cried, and launched himself at Harry, hugging him tightly.

“Hi Dobby,” Harry said, lightly patting the elf’s back.

“Dumbledore lied to Dobby; Dumbledore said that Harry Potter sir safe with disgusting Muggles.  Dobby is sorry for not checking.”

Harry caught Dobby before he could move.  “No hurting yourself.  It is not your fault,” he said firmly.

Dobby nodded and moved back to the floor.  “Mistress Park’son is a good witch, Harry Potter sir,” he said firmly.  “Mistress Park’son rescue Harry Potter sir.  House-elves here very happy, very well taken care of.”

Harry nodded.

“Dobby will bring breakfast for two in few minutes,” he said, as he disappeared with another pop.

Pansy watched as Harry touched his glasses and turned to face her once more.  “Pansy,” he said slowly, his voice back to being warm and caring.  “Nice name.”

She smiled back at him.

“How about you let me go to the bathroom, then we can talk over breakfast.”

“You’re willing to wait a few minutes for your questions?”

He smiled.  “Mistress Park’son is a good witch,” he said with a grin.  “I trust Dobby’s opinion of people.”

She nodded and pointed to the door opposite hers.  “I’ll leave a robe on the bed and get dressed myself.”

Harry slid out of bed, not seeming to notice that he was only wearing a pair of shorts.  He shot her a sudden grin, “Pity.”

Pansy blushed, and watched as he walked into the bathroom.  “That was definite flirting,” she muttered to herself.  “But why am I blushing?  What am I, twelve again?”

Pansy walked back into the bedroom and handed Harry another bottle of potion.  “It’s more nutrient stuff,” she explained.

“Thanks,” Harry replied, draining it quickly.

“So,” he said, after starting in on the largest breakfast Pansy had ever seen.  It was obvious to her that Dobby was planning on making sure that Harry was never lacking in food again.  “Exactly why was a well known Slytherin, an associate of Draco Malfoy’s, in Little Whinging rescuing me?”

“Associate?” she asked, with an amused look.

“It was the politest word I could come up with.”

“I hate Draco,” she said slowly.  “I’ve hated him for years.  But until recently, I thought I had no choice, so I was following a path of passive-aggression, by following him around like a lost puppy.”

“And disguising how you look,” Harry added, moving on to some eggs.

Pansy nodded.  “Dad taught me some glamour spells, and I took it from there.  I wanted to make friends for who I am, not what I look like.  And I wanted Draco to drool over someone else.”

“Daphne,” Harry nodded.

“How did you know that?”

“I’m not blind,” he shrugged.

“No, you’re not,” Pansy mused.  “Anyway, it seems that Dad had a small falling out with Lucius Malfoy on Monday, and Lucius went crying to Voldemort, and now we’re on Voldemort’s shit list.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at the casual swearing.  “So your parents aren’t Death Eaters?”

“No.”

“I’ve heard that your family is evil,” Harry said, his tone even and curious.  There was no hint of prejudice that she could detect.

“A popular opinion,” Pansy agreed.  “I wouldn’t say we were evil, but then, following that narrow definition, I wouldn’t say we were good.  We’ve always trodden our own path; it’s our family way.

“We are the only pureblood family with extensive interests in the Muggle world.  They make a lot of money for us.  That’s how we found you.  Dad owns the drill company your uncle works for, and overheard him talking about you.”

Harry winced.  “I’m sure it was flattering,” he said sarcastically.

“Indeed,” Pansy agreed.  “The problem we have is that Voldemort thinks that we are good, and Dumbledore thinks that we are evil.”

“Why?”

Pansy sighed.  “Dumbledore doesn’t think that anyone should have dealings with Muggles like we do.  What he doesn’t see is that we actually make a lot of peoples lives better.  Sure, we make a lot of money, but we also employ nearly fifteen thousand people.  If we just pulled out, it would devastate a lot of people.

“Everyone seems to see the world in black and white at the moment.  Or maybe Them and Us.  We see the world in the many shades of grey that it is.  We can be ruthless, but we’re also very honest.  We don’t see a need to lie to people.

“We came to see you because we need your help.  You’re the only person who can protect me from Draco at school, and the only person who can help defeat Voldemort.  We had no idea that we’d find you like we did.  We couldn’t leave you like that, regardless.

“What has happened to the Dursleys?” Harry spat the name like a foul epithet.

Pansy smiled thinly, “Dad made a few alterations to them.  At the moment, they’re squealing to anyone who will listen about how they treated you, and that they can’t explain where you are now.

“This afternoon, Dad’s going to be firing Dursley and taking back his company car.”

Harry laughed.  “And Dudley?”

Pansy held out her hand, showing the bruising across her knuckles.  “I broke his jaw.”

“I should probably be upset about this,” he confessed.  “But I’m not.”  He sighed softly.  “I thought I was going to die.  The first night I was home, I had a nightmare and woke Vernon up.  He locked me up and said I wasn’t going to get any food till I stopped waking him up.

“I couldn’t help it.”  His eyes were shadowed, and he put the knife and fork down.  “I lived on the food I had in my trunk that Mrs Weasley gave me before the end of the year.”

Pansy nodded slowly, deciding not to bring up Black’s death yet.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Dumbledore said that I had to live there, because of the blood protection.  I was hoping I’d be able to escape in a few weeks to the Weasleys.”

“Harry,” Pansy said gently.  “We found you, and we got you out of there.  The blood protection was useless.  If Voldemort had found you, he would have been able to get to you easily enough.  Dad said that Dumbledore was practising security through obscurity.  That was one of the reasons he doesn’t like Dumbledore - because he’s often careless with details.”

“I’m one of those details,” Harry said bitterly.

“I thought you were quite good friends with him?”

Harry shook his head.  “Not anymore.  I kinda destroyed his office the last time we were in it, when I found out he’d been keeping me in the dark about a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

Harry stared at her; she could feel his eyes burning into her again.

“Can I trust you?” he asked, his voice sounding strangely hypnotic.

“Yes,” she said simply.  She opened herself up to him, knowing that it was the only way to get him to believe her.

“According to the first true prophecy of Sybil Trelawney, I am the only person who can kill Voldemort.  And that one of us must die, so that the other can live.”

“What the hell is that man playing at?” Pansy demanded.

“Huh?”

“What special training have you had, Harry?”

“Well, none really.  I got some from Remus Lupin in my third year, but that’s it.”

“Does he want you to fail?”

Harry looked a little confused.  “What do you mean?”

“Harry, at the moment, I could kill you pretty easily.  Mum or Dad could very easily.  You’re weak, malnourished, and scrawny as hell; you’ve got a few muscles left over from Quidditch, but the lack of food has eliminated everything else.  You’ve not slept properly since you’ve left school, and you’re probably clinically depressed.”

Harry didn’t disagree with her statements, despite the fact that he winced with each one.  “That was blunt,” he mumbled.  “You said last night that you had something to ask me?”

Pansy nodded.  “We’re stuck in the middle, Harry, and we need your help.  More so now that we know that you’re the one who is going to kill him.  We’re proposing a deal.  We’ll help you get back to full health, help you train, and teach you new things.  In return, you accept us, and help keep us alive.

She smiled at him, “And maybe help us make a profit out of this as well.”

Harry looked amused.  “Profit?”

“If you win, Malfoy loses, and we can take over his business.  I want to change Malfoy Manor into a Muggle Hotel.”

Harry laughed.

Pansy leaned forwards a little, noticing that Harry’s eyes didn’t drop down to her chest.  “So, I thought you’d be a lot more Gryffindor about this, not accepting it so calmly.”

“Being a Gryffindor has lost me everything,” he whispered, looking out the window.  “My parents, Cedric, Sirius, and nearly my own life.  I’ve done everything they have asked from me, and they go home to their families, and I end up starving in that room.”

He turned to face her.  “I know I’m being selfish but just once, I want to feel safe, I want to feel warm when I wake up.  I want to have a full stomach.  I want to be able to talk to people about magic and life.  I want to be able to say Voldemort without everyone flinching.”

“That’s not being selfish,” Pansy whispered softly.  “That’s being human.

“Accept the deal, Harry.  You’ll have all of that, I promise.”

His eyes were on her again.  Delving inside her, examining her.

“I accept,” he whispered.  “You’ve offered me honesty, and that’s something I’ve not had much experience with.”

“I’m afraid it’s something you’ll have to get used to,” a new voice entered the conversation, surprising them both.

“Harry, this is my Mum, Gruoch.”

Harry got to his feet, a little painfully, and walked over to her, offering his hand.

She took it, and smiled as he bent and lightly kissed the back of her hand.

“No bloodstains,” he noted with a slight smile.

“Very good, Harry,” she said, with a slighly surprised look on her face.  “You don’t mind if I call you Harry?”

“Not at all.”

“Not many wizards realise where my name comes from.”

“MacBeth,” Harry nodded.  “My cousin left a copy in my room last year, along with a load of Cliff Notes.”

“Sit back down before you fall over,” Gruoch said calmly.  “And don’t disappoint Dobby by not eating his breakfast.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Harry said, sitting down.

“Here,” Pansy said, pulling her wand out and casting a warming charm on the food.

“You can do spells?”

“Of course I can.”

“I meant out of Hogwarts.  What about the Improper Use of Magic Office?”

“Oh,” Pansy said, suddenly feeling foolish for thinking that he was being sexist.  “Dad took the monitoring spell of ages ago.”

“We believe that children should be able to practice magic with their parents’ supervision,” Gruoch said, pulling up a chair to join them.  “If you’d like, we could remove the spell on yours as well?”

“Please,” Harry nodded.

“Here,” she pulled out her wand and took his.  A quick spell later, and his wand was monitoring spell free.

“Thanks, can I test it out?”

“Of course.”

Harry reached out, across the table, and grabbed Pansy’s hand.

She looked at him curiously, as he smiled at her.  He cast a spell, and she could feel a slow warmth glide across her skin.

“No one should be injured by that git,” he smiled.

Pansy raised her hand and looked at her knuckles.  The bruising was completely gone.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Harry,” Gruoch moved back into the conversation.  “For the next few days, I want you resting, eating, taking the potion, and not doing much else.  You’re no good to anyone half dead.”

Harry nodded.

“And I want you to talk to Pansy about death.”

Pansy was watching Harry closely, and could actually see as the shutters slide down across his eyes, and his face lost all expression.

“You need help dealing with death.  You are not coping at the moment.  Pansy can and will help you.”

Harry was completely still for a moment, before he turned and looked at Pansy.  “Is this the sort of honesty you were talking about?”

Pansy nodded.

Harry smiled slightly.  “Okay.”

“And I suggest you have a shower as well, you look awful.”

A few hours later, a clean and warm Harry Potter relaxed against the bed.  He wasn’t sleepy but didn’t feel like standing up either.  It made such a difference to him, just to be clean and have the pleasant feeling of a full stomach.

Dobby had cleared away the plates and nodded at the amount that Harry had eaten.  Obviously the house-elf was going to be taking personal care of him from now on.  He kinda liked it.

Pansy was with her mother, shopping, leaving him alone.

It had been surreal for him to wake up, in the dark, and find himself next to a beautiful girl.  A girl who was fast asleep.

His memories of the night before had slowly come back, and he’d realised quite quickly that she had saved him.  That he was no longer at the Dursleys, and even if he had to go back later, he’d still have this time.

When he’d found out who she was, it hadn’t mattered that much.  He was so fed up of being lied to and misled.  Everyone had claimed to be good, but they didn’t seem to care for him at all.  Well, he knew the Weasleys did but apart from that, the good side just seemed to use him.

The only problem he could see in his future was that sooner or later, Ron and Hermione were going to get together, and that was going to leave him alone.  Not that they would mean to, but that it would be natural.

He’d looked a lot at Ginny.  Ron’s disapproval didn’t mean anything to him, but she had made her own choice, had given up on him, and had moved on, and after dating Michael was now dating Dean.

Pansy, who now had a normal voice and was extremely good looking, was interesting.  She was intelligent, smart, and could say Voldemort without flinching.

Her mother was a lot of fun as well.  Not as emotional or as dramatic as Mrs Weasley, but in her own way just as caring.  She told him straight what she thought, and left it up to him to make a decision about taking the advice or leaving it.

It was curiously liberating, as he realised he was being treated like an adult, and that he would have to act like one.  One of the problems he’d had the previous year was that he was being treated like a child, and he had been reacting childishly.  Everything that was happening was inspiring him to grow up a little more.

The offer, of them helping him to fight, was strangely honest and attractive.  They made no bones that they wanted to profit from it, but at the same time, were willing to help him with what ever he needed to ensure his success.

Dumbledore, the Order, and everyone else had never actually asked him to fight - they had always presumed that he would.  That he would be there to do it for them, and when he needed them, they had been nowhere to be found.

The fact that they were so upfront about the profit aspect was fine with him.  It meant that he knew exactly where he stood.

The way they seemed to deal with problems attracted him as well.  It was direct: See a problem, make a plan to fix it, follow the plan.  Brutally simple, but highly effective at the same time.  They’d had a problem with Voldemort.  The solution? Work with him to get it fixed.

And then there was Dobby.  He had no idea how, or why, the house-elf was in the Manor, but he quite definitely was and had given his seal of approval.  They looked after their House-elves - Dobby had said that they were happy - and that Pansy was a good witch.  He’d noticed that Dobby had dropped any form of honorific when naming Dumbledore, as if he had lost respect in Dobby’s eyes.

And finally his thoughts returned to Pansy.  A girl who, when she had impinged on his consciousness at school he’d dismissed as a shallow self-centred sycophant.  He had to admire her acting skills, and not just the glamour spells, but hiding herself in plain sight.  He was willing to bet that if she’d gone to school as she looked now, Draco would have filled the Great Hall with his drool.

And she was also a girl he now knew to be able to pack a punch - Dudley had taken boxing lessons, so he knew it wasn’t the first time that Dudley had been hit.  She was a girl who was totally at home with magic due to having used it all her life.  A girl who was direct, and didn’t play stupid games like Lavender and Parvati.

A girl who was beautiful.

His eyes slowly closed, and he relaxed into sleep.

It wasn’t long before the nightmares started once more.

“Do you think this would look good, mum?” Pansy asked, holding up a set of robes.

“Yes, dark green should be a good colour for him.”

“Well,” Pansy added, piling the robes on top of the other clothes.  “It will look good when we get him built back up.  I could see his ribs earlier.”

“Oh,” Gruoch asked, a thin smile playing on her lips.  “And just when did you see our guest topless?”

Pansy blushed, lost for words for once.

“It’s okay,” her mother continued with a genuine smile.  “I know you spent the night with him.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Pansy protested.  “I was just helping him through his nightmares.”

“I know.  Your father and I have always tried to treat you as an adult.  Your behaviour is up to you, darling.  Just please be careful.”

“Harry’s not Draco, mum.  He makes me feel safe and secure.  Even when I’m comforting him.”  She sighed audibly.  “The problem is, that maybe he doesn’t feel anything for me.”

“It’s a little early for that, honey.  It’s not as if you’ve been in his social circle or anything.  If I were you, I’d try a few judicious questions to see if he has anyone in mind, before moving in yourself.  That way, at least you know who your competition is.”

“Thanks mum.”  Pansy impulsively hugged her mother.  “Now, we just need to get him some boxers.”

Gruoch merely raised her eyebrows teasingly, causing Pansy to blush once more.

Back at the Manor, Pansy left the clothing in the car for one of the house-elves to unload, and she walked straight up to Harry’s room.

She sighed softly as she found him in the throes of another nightmare.

“Wake up,” she crooned softly, resting her hand on his shoulder.

With a gasp, Harry awoke and instantly reached for his glasses.  It was a gesture that concerned her slightly.  How was her fighter supposed to be able to win, if Voldemort could defeat him by damaging his glasses?  She resolved to have a word with her father about it as soon as possible.

“Thanks,” he said, before his lips curled into a half smile.  “Angel.”

“We need to have that talk now,” she told him gently.  “If you can’t sleep at night, nothing we do is going to help.”

Harry nodded slowly, his whole demeanour screaming reluctance.

Pansy walked around the room, closing the curtains and bathing the room into darkness.  She walked over to the table, and lit several candles with her wand, moving them to the bedside tables.  After kicking off her shoes, she sat cross-legged on the bed and placed her elbows on her knees.

“Why?”

She smiled slightly.  “It’s easier to talk in the dark,” she replied, keeping her voice soft. “All the harsh realities are hidden and glossed over.  It’s just us, and the flickering of the candles.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” Harry whispered, leaning back.  “I don’t know if I can talk about myself.”

“You can Harry.  And you’re talking to someone different.  I’m not going to judge you, I’m not going to tell you you’re right or wrong, I’m not even going to tell you your being silly.  All you have to do is trust me.”

Harry’s teeth gleamed slightly in a sudden grin.  “Oh, is that all?”

Pansy laughed gently.

“What do you see when you close your eyes?”

Harry sat back against the bed and was still.  The silence stretched, but Pansy just waited silently, knowing that he would either talk, or not, and that nothing else she could say would be able to persuade him otherwise.

“I see green eyes, brown eyes, blue eyes, and grey eyes first.  They stare at me.”

“What are they doing?”

“Looking at me.  Judging me.  Accusing me,” he whispered.

“What happens next?”

“They show me, once more, how they died.  I hear the screams of my father, telling my mother to get me out of there, then the horrifying thud as his body hits the floor.  I hear my mother casting her last spell, and then dying.  I see Cedric as Voldemort says ‘Kill the Spare,’ and I see Sirius as he falls through the Veil.  I see the horror on their faces.”

He took a deep breath.  “Then they tell me it’s my fault.  They tell me that I killed them.  That if it wasn’t for me, they would be alive.”

The soft candlelight showed the shimmering tracks his tears made down his cheek, as he gave into the security of the darkness.

“What do you know about your parents?”

“That my dad was a jerk, and that he and Mum loved each other.”

“Your dad was a jerk?”

“I saw him, in Snape’s Pensieve.” Harry clarified.

“What is a Pensieve?” Pansy asked softly.

“It’s a place to store memories.”

“Did Snape like your dad?”

“No, they were bitter enemies.”

“So why do you trust his memories of him?”

Harry’s eyes blinked open.  “What?”

“What do you think of Snape, himself?”

“That he’s an absolute git, and that he hates me because of my father.”

“So why do you trust his memories of James Potter?” Pansy asked again.

Harry looked at her, unable to answer her question.

“Do you want to know what I know of James Potter?”

He nodded, urgently.

“James Potter was the only child of Joyce and Roland Potter.  He grew up in the Potter Manor, and, as all Pure Blood children, was introduced to the others.  He met Lucius Malfoy at that time and didn’t like him.  He also met my father.

“At Hogwarts, along with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, he was a trouble maker.  He was arrogant and could be slightly cruel.”  She could see Harry nodding along.

“But away from his pranks, he was probably the nicest boy in Hogwarts.  He would help anyone with anything.  He even gave up his pocket money to allow a young Ravenclaw to take out a pretty Slytherin on a date.  The Slytherin was another Pure Blood that James knew and, while he didn’t really approve, he helped the Ravenclaw out.  The Ravenclaw took the Slytherin to the nicest places in Hogsmeade and for the first time, the Slytherin admitted that she liked the Ravenclaw.

“Two years later, in a scandal that rocked society, the Ravenclaw married the Slytherin, in a small ceremony, attended by James and Lily Potter.

“People were horrified that a Pure Blood princess, and sole heir to the family fortune, would marry a destitute Ravenclaw.

“James Potter didn’t care.  He stood by them, because he liked the Ravenclaw, and had come to like the Slytherin.  The Ravenclaw turned out to be a brilliant, if slightly ruthless, businessman and people soon forgot that he was poor.  A year later, the Slytherin became pregnant, and she had a daughter.  Breaking with family tradition, they named her in honour of Lily Potter, choosing the name of another flower.  Pansy.”

Harry’s eyes were wide as he stared at her.  “Your parents knew my parents?”

Pansy nodded, smiling slightly.  “Do you have any idea how many times I have heard that story growing up?  — Many, many, times.  My parents and yours disagreed about many things, but they remained friends to the end.”

“So my dad wasn’t a total git?”

“No,” Pansy smiled.  “He wasn’t perfect as a teenager, but he grew into someone that my parents talk of with reverence.  And my parents don’t normally talk about anyone like that.”

“According to Dad, when you were born, James was a complete mess.  He hadn’t slept in over a day, but the first thing he did was floo my parents with the news.  They’d never seen him so happy.  Of course, they couldn’t do anything; they were getting ready to have me at the time.

“Because of the war, my parents took me to France for the first year, but they talked to your parents regularly.  James was the prototypical proud father.  All he could talk about was you, and how proud he and Lily were.”

“You did not kill your parents, Harry.  Voldemort did.”

“But Mum sacrificed herself for me,” Harry said, his voice dropping as they returned to their original subject.”

“No, she didn’t.”

“What!?” Harry demanded, sitting up.

“Your mother was dead.” Pansy said bluntly.  “Voldemort and a troop of Death Eaters were in the house, intent on killing all of you.  Your mother could have danced the Tango, but she would still have died.

“What she did, was give you a gift.  And like all gifts, it’s okay for you to be grateful, but the only thing you owe her is to grow into the sort of person that she, and James, would want you to be.”

Harry was deathly still, his entire being focused directly on her.

“She may have died for you, but she didn’t die because of you, Harry.  She died because of Voldemort.”

Harry nodded slowly, leaning back against the pillows.

Pansy smiled softly.  “And from what I can see, you’re doing a pretty good job of growing into someone they would be very proud of.”

“Do you think so?” Harry asked.

Pansy felt her heart melt at the longing in his voice.  “Absolutely!”

There was a brief, comfortable silence.

“What happened with Diggory?” Pansy asked, getting the conversation back on track.  She had the feeling that she had only managed to get Harry to open up because he was still emotionally distraught over everything that had happened recently, and she didn’t want to miss the chance to really get through to him.

In a monotone voice, Harry explained about the three tasks, and how they had taken the cup together, taking them to the graveyard.  She felt a small pang of guilt, when she remembered wearing the ‘Potter Stinks’ badge, but suppressed it quickly.

“Why are you feeling guilty over that?” she asked, as he finished.

“If it hadn’t been for me, he would still be alive.”

“Tell me something,” Pansy asked, her voice light.  “Do you go searching for extra guilt?”

“No.”  His answer was curt.

Pansy sighed softly.  “Harry.  Think of a room - in that room are two doors ahead of you.  Through the right, a lion is sleeping.  Through the left is a room full of the best food.  Which door do you take?”

“The left,” Harry replied, as if it was a stupid question.

“There was no lion in the right room,” Pansy said softly.  “I lied, because I wanted you to go to the left.”

She could feel his eyes on her now.

“I don’t understand.”

“You made a decision based on the best information you had at the time.  As far as you knew, you were being generous.  But someone else had been manipulating you.  Someone else had guided you to that point.  Then that someone else killed Cedric.  Not you.  Voldemort killed Cedric.

“You brought his body back despite having a broken leg.  You survived.”

“Through luck, not intelligence,” Harry interrupted.

“Better to be alive and lucky than dead and clever,” Pansy replied.  “Are you seeing a pattern here? You did not kill Cedric, Voldemort did.  If you had done anything else, you would not have been the sort of person your parents wanted you to become.

“When you think about Cedric, you have to remind yourself that he didn’t die because of you, but because of Voldemort.”  She knew she was repeating herself, but wanted to drive the point home.

Harry nodded slowly.  “But I definitely got Sirius killed,” he said.  “If I’d just thought to use the mirrors, I’d’ve not gone to the Ministry in the first place, or if I’d tried harder with Snape and the Occlumency lessons.”

“One mistake Harry.  You made one mistake.  That does not mean you killed him.”

“If I hadn’t made it, it wouldn’t have happened.”

Pansy shook her head violently, feeling her hair float around her.  “No.  You might have done something different, but you were trying to do the right thing.  How much support did you get last year from the Professors?  I know that Umbridge made your life hell - although I could have kissed you for hitting Malfoy - what was Dumbledore like?”

“He avoided me,” Harry whispered.

Pansy snorted.  “Somehow I’m not surprised.  Listen carefully, Harry.  Yes, you made a mistake.  You have to learn from that, but it doesn’t mean you killed him.”

“Yes, it does,” Harry argued.

“You cannot let one mistake drown you in guilt,” Pansy felt herself getting emotional, as unwanted memories came flooding back.  “You were doing what you thought was right at the time.”

“I should have done better.”

“You are not perfect.  No one is.  You had a lot on your shoulders, and you reacted instinctively.  It says a lot about you that you didn’t care for yourself, but for them.”

“I got my friends hurt as well.”

“They are your friends; each of them was capable of making their own decision.  They chose to stand by you.  That was up to them.  They knew the risks, as did Sirius when he came to help you.”

“But...”

“Damn it, Harry,” Pansy felt herself shouting.  “It’s not your bloody fault.  Stop being so pigheaded about it.  Everyone makes mistakes in their life.  No one is bloody perfect.”

“What do you know about it?” Harry snapped.

Pansy closed her eyes, feeling tears run down her cheek, as her mental blocks failed, and her own nightmares came tumbling back.

“I was eleven,” she whispered through the tears.  “I was flying with my cousin; he was thirteen.  We were showing off, having fun.  I bet him that he couldn’t fly through the apple orchard.

“He laughed, and said of course he could.  He flew down, fast, laughing.  I cheered him on.”  She took a deep breath.  “He misjudged it halfway through, and flew into a tree at top speed.  I can still see him as he bounced off.  I screamed.  And screamed, and screamed.  I knew he was dead.  My favourite cousin was dead.  And I knew it was my fault.  If I hadn’t bet him, he wouldn’t have done it, and he would still be alive.”

She felt him move on the bed, and then clumsily hold her, patting her back awkwardly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.  “I tend to forget that other people have feelings as well.”

Pansy sniffed softly.  “You’re not perfect Harry, no one is.  I blamed myself for a very long time, playing ‘what if’.  Yes, I shouldn’t have bet him, but he didn’t have to fly into the orchard either.  If the wind had been blowing a different way, maybe he would have missed the tree.

“Dad forced me to talk to him - a lot like I am doing with you.  One of the things he said stuck with me:

‘Death poems

Are mere delusion-

Death is Death.’”

“What does that mean?” Harry asked softly, she could feel his breath brushing against her.

“Death happens to everyone Harry.  Sooner or later, everyone dies.  No matter how much we try and pretty it up, it’s a constant.  Sirius died, maybe he shouldn’t have, but it wasn’t your fault.  Voldemort killed him.  As Voldemort killed Cedric.”

“But...”

“Yes, I know that he didn’t kill Cedric or Sirius himself - that’s not really the point.  He is the one responsible; he is the one that has caused all of this.  Harry, you can’t let it beat you, because you are the only person who can avenge Sirius.  The only person who can avenge Cedric.  The only person who can avenge your parents.

Harry took a deep breath.  “I tried to cast the Cruciatus on Bellatrix,” he confessed, almost inaudibly.

“Only tried?” she sounded a little disappointed.

Harry pulled back a little to look at her in the dim candlelight.  “That doesn’t upset you?”

“The bitch had just pushed your godfather through the Veil.  She deserved it,” Pansy had her tears under control now.

Harry smiled tentatively.  “You’re quite amazing,” he whispered.

“I’m just me, Harry.”  She smiled slightly.

“Like I said,” Harry whispered, resting back down on the bed.  “I think I need a nap.”

Pansy nodded and unfolded her legs, lying down next to him.

“Accept that they are gone Harry.  Accept that it wasn’t your fault.  Accept that you are going to avenge them.”

“I will,” Harry whispered, his eyes closing slowly.

As he fell asleep, he saw the eyes staring at him, as they always did.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered to them.  “But it wasn’t me.  Voldemort killed you, and I will kill Voldemort.”

The eyes seemed to nod, then vanished, one by one, leaving him alone to sleep, nightmare free.

-----

White Knight, Grey Queen

2 - Understanding

“Mistress Park’son,” Dobby whispered.

“What is it, Dobby?” Pansy asked, yawning a little as she opened her eyes.

“Master Park’son sent Dobby to get you.  Master Park’son is waiting in the study.”

“’Kay, tell Dad I’ll be there in a minute.”

Dobby nodded, and popped away.

Pansy sat up and looked around.  Next to her, Harry was sleeping calmly.  She smiled at him softly, realising that he looked a lot better when his face wasn’t twisted up with hunger and abuse.  She decided to let him sleep, and slid out of bed, frowning at her wrinkled clothing.

Silently, she padded out of the room and down to the study.

“Hey, dad,” she mumbled, slumping down into the chair.

“I take it you’ve had your talk with Harry?”

Pansy nodded.  “Told him about Mike,” she said succinctly.  “I think he understands now.  But he’s going to be mightily pissed off with Voldemort when he wakes.”

“Don’t let your mother hear you swearing like that,” Malcom chastised lightly.  “What did you find out?”

“Dumbledore’s been worse than useless.  He’s actually been inhibiting his emotional, psychological, and physical development.  For the so-called ‘Most Powerful Wizard’ in the world, he’s done a poor job at standing up to everyone on Harry’s behalf.  Harry should never have been banned from Quidditch last year - especially when Draco was not even given detention for the same incident.”

Malcom noted down a few things on a pad in front of him. “Can you tell me the full story of that, and his ban?”

After she had repeated everything she had seen, from her perspective, he nodded.

“Okay, I’ll have my lawyers ready for when he goes back to school.  His ban won’t last a day.  It is a ridiculous punishment from someone with no power to enforce it.”

“I thought Umbridge was Fudge’s right hand man?”

Malcom snorted.  “Fudge will do exactly as I tell him.  For too long I’ve let Lucius have free reign through the Ministry, even influencing Fudge, while I’ve been concentrating on the Muggle world.  It’s past time I remind Fudge just exactly who knows all his deep dark secrets; as well as teach Lucius that if he’s going to play with wolves, he should expect to be bitten.

“If we’re going to be fighting on the light side, then we need to make sure we don’t have anything stupid happening in the meantime.”

“I don’t think we’re on the light side, dad.”  Pansy ran her fingers through her hair absently, sorting out the mess it had become.  “I think we’re going to be on Harry’s side. He resents Dumbledore as much as anyone I’ve ever seen.  I can’t see him ever taking orders from him again.  There’s no trust there, at all.”

“Go on,” Malcom said, sounding very interested.

“If you remember the pictures we saw from the fight at the Ministry, we know that Harry can lead people, and that he inspires trust and dedication from them.  So, what I’m thinking is that we hoist our flag next to his, form a third team, and work on our own, without having to abide by stupid rules governing what is good and evil.

“At school, the D.A. will follow Harry, especially after I get some of the best Slytherins to join.  We can have the best students at Hogwarts on our side, following the only person who can kill Voldemort.”

“What!?”

“Oh, yeah.” Pansy blushed slightly.  “This isn’t to be spread around, but Harry is the only person, according to prophecy, that can kill Voldemort.  Only one of them can live.”

“And knowing that, Dumbledore still kept him with the Dursleys?”

Pansy nodded.  “And hasn’t given him any special training.  Well, except in his third year when Remus Lupin taught him the Patronus spell.”

“Harry can cast a Patronus?”

“Yeah, a stag.”

“James.”

“Yes.”

Malcom paused, and then snapped his fingers.  A house-elf appeared next to him.  “Could you ask Gruoch to join us, please?”

“Yes, master,” The elf said, a split-second before vanishing.

“You rang?” Gruoch said sardonically, as she entered the room.

“I knew getting you a Muggle television was a bad idea,” Malcom muttered.  “Ideas above your station, wench.”

Gruoch calmly picked up a pillow and threw it at him.

Malcom grinned and placed it on the table, swinging his feet on top of it.  “Pansy just made a very good suggestion - it’s something we all need to agree on though.

Gruoch sat down opposite her husband’s desk.

“At the moment, you have the Death Eaters in one corner and the Order of the Phoenix in the other.  Both groups are horrendously mismanaged, and seem content to fight out an endless series of small battles, each one gaining and losing a bit of power.

“Pansy suggested that we don’t align ourselves with either but take the third corner, with Harry in the lead.  Instead of it just being wizards fighting for the future, we blur the lines.  We’re presuming that Harry can get the house-elves on our side already, and we can invite the Goblins in.

“Pansy is confident that Harry can, with her help, bring in a lot of the students from Hogwarts.

“I’ve let Lucius run amok through the Ministry unopposed for too long, so I’m going to take control back from him, and give him a firm spanking for not remembering his place.

“And finally, we can bring some of our top Muggles in to help out and use some of their weapons etc.

“Now, the downside of this is that it’s going to be very expensive.  We’re going to have to back it up with some serious cash to get the whole venture off the ground.

“If we lose, we could lose nearly everything.

“At the moment, doing nothing would mean we lose everything as well.

“If we win, then for the first time in history, our family name will be treated with reverence.  We will have unprecedented control of our own future, and the future of the Wizarding world.  And we will be there with the hero who defeated the Dark Lord.

“So, we have to do something.  Our choices are either following Dumbledore, who we already know to be a bungler – and who might not accept us anyway - or putting everything behind an under-trained sixteen year old.”

“Fifteen,” Pansy corrected absently.  “He’s not sixteen for a couple of weeks.”

Malcom waved his hand airily.  “My point remains the same.”

“I’m for gambling on Harry,” Pansy stated clearly.  “But I know him better than you do.  I think it would be a good idea if we stand still for a few days.  He already appreciates our honesty, so I think we should lay all our cards down on the table, explaining what we are willing to do and what we hope to get out of it, and let him make his own decision.”

Malcom nodded thoughtfully.  “Gruoch?”

Gruoch looked thoughtful.  “He did impress me.  There is definitely an active brain behind those green eyes.  Not many wizards recognise my name, and even fewer make a joke about blood stains.  He has already seen too much death, and as we know from Pansy, death has an awful habit of making children grow up too early.

“I agree with Pansy.  Let’s see his reaction first, and then take it from there.”

Malcom nodded.  “Agreed.”  He started to look a little excited for the first time.  “I’ve got to admit that I hope he agrees.  Can you think of anything more challenging than starting a third group?”

Pansy and Gruoch shared an amused glance.  “For you?  No.”

After spending the evening with her parents, Pansy went back to bed.  Harry was still asleep.

She smiled down at him, recognising that his body was recovering from the lack of sleep he’d had since he left school.  She changed into her pyjamas again and climbed into bed with him.  She wasn’t quite sure exactly why she was doing it, but it seemed quite natural.  And somewhat comforting and reassuring too, if she was being honest.  There was something about sharing a bed, no matter how platonically, which seemed very right.

She breathed in deeply, and relaxed, falling asleep quickly.

When she woke, she could tell it was still early.  Harry was still asleep next to her, so she climbed out of bed, went and had a quick shower, washing her hair.

With a dressing gown around her body, and a towel around her hair, she whistled cheerfully to herself as she opened the curtains in his room; then sat at his dresser and pulled out a magically enhanced blow dryer.

“What is that?” Harry asked sleepily from the bed, as he sat up to watch her.

“Hair dryer,” Pansy said, as she twisted to smile at him.  “Feel better?”

Harry blinked owlishly at her, and then nodded.  “A lot.  Hungry, though.”

Pansy laughed.  “Just click your fingers.”

Harry nodded and did it.  Dobby appeared instantly.

“How is Harry Potter sir feeling?” the elf asked, looking concerned.

“I had a great sleep,” Harry said to the elf.  “But I’m hungry now.”

“Did Mistress Park’son look after Harry Potter properly?”

Harry nodded firmly.  “She did.  She made me look at things from a different perspective, and it really helped.”

Dobby nodded, looking satisfied.  “Dobby said that Mistress Park’son was a good witch.  Dobby will bring breakfast shortly.”

“Why don’t you have a shower?” Pansy asked, after Dobby had popped-out.

“’Kay,” Harry said, yawning hugely.  He shot her a sudden grin.  “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.  Get in the shower before Dobby gets back with the food.”

Harry playfully saluted at her and wandered into the bathroom.  The sound of the shower was just audible over her hair dryer.

Fifteen minutes later, a very clean and awake looking Harry Potter walked out of the bathroom, wearing a matching robe to hers.

He sat down at the table, and a huge breakfast appeared before him.  A moment later, a second breakfast appeared across the table at Pansy’s place.

“Eat,” Pansy said, as she finished off her hair.  “I’ll be there in a second.”

Harry nodded and started to eat - with much more enthusiasm than he had displayed the previous day.

Pansy finished her hair and joined him at the table, pausing only to say, “Come in,” after there was a knock on the door.

“Harry, this is Malcom Parkinson, my father.”

Harry stood and offered his hand, a gesture that Malcom reciprocated, as they shook hands.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all, sir,” Harry said.

“Call me Malcom, please.  You don’t mind if I call you Harry?”

“I prefer it,” Harry replied with a grin.  “I just wanted to say thank you.  For everything.”

Malcom smiled slightly.  “We’ll talk about that when you don’t look like you’ve been starved for few years.  You’re too short as it is, considering that both your parents were pretty tall.  I’ll have a doctor come around later and give you a complete physical.”

“Bluntness does run in your family,” Harry mumbled ruefully.

The patriarch of the family laughed.  “Indeed it does, Harry.  We find that, while sometimes impolite, it does get straight to the point.

“Anyway.  I’m here to tell you that you’re going to start your training today.  I know that you have had some Occlumency training but from what Pansy told me, it hasn’t been any good.”

“You could say that,” Harry agreed.

“It’s for that reason that I’ve arranged for both of you to be taught by one of the best in the field.  Due to time constraints, you’re going to have to squeeze a weeks worth of training into one day, so you’ll be using a Time-Turner.”

Harry nodded.  “I thought they were restricted items?”

Malcom looked amused.  “They are.  But if you have enough money, anything is possible.  But enough about business, we can talk about that later.”

Harry nodded.  “Could you tell me a little about my parents?”

Pansy smiled at the look on Harry’s face.  The fact that her parents had illegal possession of a Time-Turner didn’t seem to bother him at all.

“Here,” Pansy said, passing Harry a couple of bags.

“What’s this?” Harry asked.

“We burnt those rags you called clothing, so we replaced them with something more fitting.”

Harry blinked.

“Oh, don’t think its charity,” Pansy said cheerfully.  “Those rags really wouldn’t have fit in around here.  We’ve got an image to keep up.”

Harry looked at her closely, and slowly smiled.  He could clearly see that the excuse about the image was purely that, but at the same time, she didn’t want him embarrassed about receiving a gift.  It was obvious that they had meant it when they had offered to take care of him.

He actually found that he was pretty appreciative of having new clothes to wear.  It was something symbolic, to help him focus his mind on the fact that he was now going to be hunting Voldemort, not the other way around.

“Any suggestions on what I should wear?” he asked, and then laughed as Pansy pounced onto the bags, delved into them, and handed him a complete outfit.

“You know,” he said casually.  “You’re going to have to teach me what goes with what.”

“That’ll be my pleasure,” Pansy grinned happily.

“My name is Margret Tierow,” the anonymous looking lady said clearly.  Even her voice was unremarkable.  She was average height with average length hair, in a soft brown colour.  She looked like you’d forget her if you’d turn away for a second.  “Harry, I’ve heard that you have had some training in Occlumency?”

Harry nodded.  “Some, yeah.”

“And Pansy, you’ve not had any at all?”

“That’s correct.”

“Okay.  Harry, do you mind if I have a look at your memories of being trained so that I can see your progress?”

Harry shot a quick look at Pansy, and then nodded his head reluctantly.

“Legilimens,” Margret whispered softly, looking into his eyes.  She quickly found the memories she was looking for, and was shocked to the core at what he had been taught, and the brutal way in which Snape had half-tried to pass on the skill.  She cut the memories abruptly.

“Will you excuse me for a minute?” she asked politely.  At the two children’s nod, she walked calmly out of the room.  The second she was out of sight, her walk turned into a stalk as she headed to the nearest fireplace.  “Malcom Parkinson,” she called, throwing the floo powder into the grate.

“What’s up, Maggie?” Malcom asked, obviously having interrupted a meeting to talk to her.

“Can I talk freely?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“We have a problem.  Snape did not attempt to teach Harry Occlumency - he used it as an opportunity to mind-rape the boy.  I’m going to have to undo the damage first before we can get start again from the beginning.”

Malcom nodded slowly, a rather large frown appearing on his face.  “Dumbledore’s idea, right?”

Margret nodded sharply.

“In your professional opinion, should Snape be teaching students?”

“With what I have just seen, he shouldn’t be allowed near children, full stop.  His behaviour was immoral, illegal, and disgusting.”

Malcom nodded once more.  “Please place your memories of what happened to Harry in a Pensieve.  Snape is one of Dumbledore’s more powerful supporters, so we will have to remove him.  I will not have my investments in Harry ruined by Snivelus.  If you send Pansy to me, I’ll tell her to keep busy this morning, so that you have time with Harry, then you can start together at lunch-time.”

Maggie smiled.  “Thanks Malcom.”

Malcom smiled slightly, and closed the floo connection.

Maggie took a deep breath and slowly walked back to the library.  When Malcom had contacted her the day before, she’d been a little surprised to hear that Harry was staying with the Parkinsons, but the more she heard of their story, the more intrigued she had been.  It hadn’t been a hard decision to help teach the Boy Who Lived, partly because she was curious about him, and partly because the Parkinsons always paid extremely well.

“Pansy, your father would like to talk to you,” she smiled at the girl.  Pansy was a true Parkinson, as far as she could tell.  She was warm and friendly when you got to know her, cold and stand offish if you didn’t.  She had inherited aspects of both her parents’ good looks, and she carried herself with the sort of carriage that only breeding and a lot of money could import.  What was interesting was that she was definitely interested in Harry as more than a friend.

She couldn’t see at the moment if Harry returned her interest, though.

As Pansy left the room, she sat opposite Harry.  “What Snape did to you, was not teach you,” she stated softly.  “It was a form of rape, and it is against the code that Legilimens agree to when they are taught the skill.  The very fact that he failed to teach you these rules is enough for him to be disbarred and lose his licence to practice.

“I will be taking you and Pansy through those rules later, but before that, I would like you to allow me to enter your mind once more, and allow me to try and fix some of the damage he has done to you.”

She could feel Harry’s eyes staring at her intently, judging her.  He took a deep breath.  “I think I’d like Pansy here as well.”

She nodded slowly.  “You trust her?”

“I do.”

She stood and walked outside, finding Pansy still talking to her father, and explained the situation.  Her earlier hypothesis was confirmed when Pansy’s face broke into the most radiant smile she’d ever seen on the girl before.

“Go wait with Harry, sweetheart,” Malcom said from the floo.  After she had left, he continued.  “Maggie, I’m slightly concerned about Pansy.”

“That she’s falling for Harry?”

“That obvious, is it?”

“Yes.  But I wouldn’t worry about it too much.  From the brief look I’ve had into Harry’s mind, he is not the sort of person to play with another’s feelings.  If he feels something, he’ll act on it.  If he doesn’t, he’ll let her know.”

Malcom nodded, and smiled.  “Okay, that’s all I can ask.  I just hope it goes well, I hate seeing her getting hurt.”

“It’s a part of growing up.”

“I know.  If I didn’t, I’d have Harry kept at the other end of the Manor, with house-elves watching their every movement.”

Maggie just laughed and walked out the room, rejoining the two teenagers.

“Harry, I’m going to enter your mind again, and I’m going to try and repair the damage that Snape’s attacks have done to you.”

“Okay,” Harry said, taking a deep breath.  “I really don’t like people in my mind.”

“Not many of us do,” Maggie agreed.  “But unfortunately, we can’t proceed with your mind in the state that it’s in at the moment.”

She cast Legilimens again, entering Harry’s mind.  His mental barriers, the natural defences that all Wizards have, were badly out of alignment.  A practitioner was supposed to use skill and subtlety to get into the mind of a student, not barge in like a bull, uncaring of any damage caused.

She gently pulled his shields back into shape, lining them up properly, before moving deeper inside his mind.  Everywhere she looked, she saw evidence of damage - some relating to Snape, some relating to the after-effects of being taught so shoddily.  It seemed that every time Harry had tried to defend himself, it had caused more damage.  Frankly, she was amazed that he’d managed to keep Voldemort out for a period of time, and then kick him out after Voldemort had finally possessed him.

It spoke of an amazing amount of mental strength.  Strength that she was positive was going to make him an amazing Legilimens when she had finished teaching him properly.

When she finished, she saw that Harry was breathing as hard as she was.  “How do you feel?”

Harry’s face closed down for a second, before he looked up and smiled at her.  “A lot better.  Thank you.”

She nodded calmly.  “I could do with a drink.”

Before she finished the words, a house-elf, wearing more clothing than she was used to, appeared with three glasses of ice-filled water.

“Is Harry Potter better?” he asked, hope clear in his voice.

“Yes, Dobby.”

Dobby looked satisfied, smiled at her, and vanished.

“Unusual elf,” she commented, noting the amused looks that her two charges shot at each other.

She took a deep drink and relaxed into the chair.  “Legilimens, and Occlumency, are skills that were developed back in the Dark Ages of Magic.  Originally, they were used as powerful tools in battle.  As civilisation turned to normalcy, a strict code of conduct was developed to govern how the skills are used.  I’m going to teach you Occlumency first, which is a passive skill and isn’t governed by the rules.  Then we’ll go onto Legilimency.

“Today, the skills are hardly taught at all.  Snape learnt his skills from Professor Dumbledore as a means of hiding his mind from the Dark Lord.

“We are not sure where the Dark Lord learnt his skills from, but he doesn’t seem to have been taught by a master.  If he had, Harry would not have been able to fight him off last year.”

“You seem very well informed,” Harry interrupted.

Maggie nodded.  “I’ve worked for Malcom for some years.  There isn’t much that happens in the Wizarding World that he doesn’t find out about, sooner or later.  Snape’s involvement as a spy for Dumbledore was suspected for some time, and confirmed when I looked into your mind earlier.”

Harry smiled faintly.  “Which is exactly why I need Occlumency training.”

“What else do you know, Harry?” Pansy asked, speaking for the first time.

Harry turned to look at her.  “Much more than I want to.”

Pansy laughed, “I don’t doubt that.”

Maggie raised her wand and lowered the lights in the room.  “I want you both to clear your minds,” she said simply.

“How?” Harry asked.

Maggie frowned, mentally deciding that she’d like a few words of her own with Snape.  She used her wand to create a candle on the table.

“I want both of you to look at the candle.  Look at nothing else.”

She watched as the two shifted closer to the table, and incidentally, nearer each other.

“Now,” she deliberately changed her voice, softening it and speaking in rhythmic cadences.  “I want you to create a picture in your mind.  Create a picture of a warm, safe place where you feel totally relaxed - a glen in the woods, or at a beach.  I want you to try and visualise as many details as possible - what objects are present, what people are there.  Concentrate on that place.  Watch the wind blowing through the trees, or the lapping of the waves against the beach.  Now, imagine your other senses at the scene.  Feel the breeze brush past you, gentle on your skin.  Take a deep breath and imagine the smells associated with your scene, perhaps the fresh salty air of the sea, or the woodsy smell of the countryside.  Imagine the sounds that would come with it - the sound of the breeze moving through the trees, or the call of birds.

“Stay still, in your safe place, and remember how you feel.  Remember how calm you are now, how safe and warm.

“I want you to slowly lose the image, but keep your mind in the same state it is now. Let the image drop away from you, leaving only the candle in front of you.”

She went silent, and watched the two teenagers.  Slowly she could see their faces relax, and their breathing deepen.

“Excellent,” she whispered.  “Now, I want you to slowly look at each other, and return to normality.”  The looking at each other wasn’t technically necessary, but she wasn’t averse to doing a bit of matchmaking herself, and she felt that it would help them form an emotional bond together.

“Wow,” Pansy said softly, smiling wildly.  “I’ve never felt like that.”

“Nor have I,” Harry said, sounding awed.  “That was really cool.”

Maggie nodded and smiled.  “That is how you clear your minds.”

At the end of the first day, and a very large dinner, Harry and Pansy sat in his room.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Harry answered with a yawn.  “But miles better than I have been for some time.”

“Tomorrow morning, we’ll be using the Time-Turner to go back and do today again, but in the study this time.  It’s going to be complicated, but it’s the only way to accelerate the training we need to do.”

Harry nodded, “Does anyone know I’m here?”

Pansy shook her head.  “Nope.  We took you out under your invisibility cloak, and put you in our car directly.  If anyone tries to trace the car, they’ll have no luck - because it changes make and model every couple of hours.”

“Useful,” Harry smiled.  “So Dumbledore and my friends are going to be looking for me?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t really want to be found,” Harry said, and then felt a little surprise as Pansy shot him a massive smile.  “So I was thinking it would be a good idea to send the Weasleys a message, telling them that I’m fine - and that the so-called protective wards were pretty useless.”

“What makes you say that?”

“If you could just walk in and spirit me away, I’d hardly call it secure.”

Pansy giggled.  “I know.”

Harry smiled at her, then walked over to desk and picked up a quill.  “Where’s Hedwig?”

“In the family Owlery.  Dobby’s been looking after her.”

Harry smiled and dashed out a few lines of text.  “Will they be able to follow her back here?”

“Nope.  It’s a very difficult thing to do if you've no prior warning, so if we tell Hedwig to come back straight away, she should be fine.”

“What do you think of this?” he asked, handing her the note.

Pansy looked at it and then laughed out loud.  “Why Harry, you’re almost sounding Slytherin there.”

“Didn’t you know?” Harry asked, deciding that he liked hearing her laugh.  “The Sorting Hat wanted to put me into Slytherin.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but after meeting Draco and hearing that all Slytherins are evil from Ron, I begged it to put me in Gryffindor.”

“You do know that we’re not all evil, right?”

Harry nodded.  “Just a little grey,” he teased.

Pansy grinned at him.  “Ambition isn’t an evil thing.  Sure, some of us might break the rules a little, but most of the house is as law-abiding as everyone else.  They’re just afraid.  First of Marcus when he was still at school and now of Draco.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully.  “You know, I think I might have to do something about that when we get back to school.”  He grinned suddenly.  “As a Gryffindor, I can hardly stand back when a lot of students are scared, can I?”

As she led them towards the Owlery, Pansy replied, “Most Gryffindors would, if it was the Slytherins.”

“True,” Harry sighed.  “Are you as fed up with the school as I am?”

“In what way?”

“Everyone keeping to themselves all the time.  There are hardly any inter-house activities, apart from Quidditch, and that’s more open warfare half the time.  I don’t like all the suspicion.”

“I’ve not really noticed it,” Pansy mumbled.  “I’ve spent all my time with Draco as it is.”

“What are you going to do about that when you get back to school?”

“I don’t know,” Pansy sighed.  “It depends on how he reacts to the news that Voldemort wants us dead.”

Harry smiled suddenly.  “So I’m in good company for a change?”

Pansy grinned at him.  “The best!”

Molly Weasley was making bread the old fashioned way.  It allowed her to take out her frustrations on the dough, as she kneaded it firmly.

She was worried about Harry and had been since Dumbledore had explained what had happened earlier.  It was bad enough hearing what happened, but when Remus had explained everything that happened to Harry growing up, it had been a lot worse.

Hermione was staying with them for the summer, with Ginny in her room, and she had been looking forward to Harry joining Ron and the two girls.  She still had hopes that eventually Harry and Ginny would get together.  They were friends, and that was always a good starting point.

A knock at the window drew her attention, and she moved quickly to open the window, casting a cleaning spell on her hands as she did so.  She grabbed the parchment from Hedwig's proffered leg and unrolled it, hardly noticing as the owl immediately flew off.

“Dear Mr and Mrs Weasley, Ron and Hermione, Ginny and Dean, and everyone else that likes to interfere,

Please don’t worry about me.  I am safe and sound, and being looked after and fed.  In fact, I’m actually a lot happier here than I have been for some time.  I am not a prisoner, nor am I being held against my will.

I’m sure that, by now, you have discovered my unexpected absence from Little Whinging, and probably know more details than you ever wanted to about my childhood.

Please do not waste time looking for me, as I have no wish to be found.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny (and Dean), I’ll see you at school.  Oh, and Ron, if Ginny can ask Dean out, surely you can ask Hermione out?

Harry. ”

Molly blinked at the message, and then turned to the stairs.  “Ron, Ginny, Hermione, will you please come down here?”

There was a loud trampling sound, followed by the arrival of the three in question.  “I’ve just heard from Harry,” she smiled at them.  “He says that he is safe and sound.”

Relived looks appeared on the faces of the three there.

“Is there anything you three want to tell me?”

“About what?” Ginny asked.

“Like whom you are currently dating?”

“I’m not dating anyone,” Ginny protested.  “And the one I want to date is the one who’s currently missing.”

“So why does Harry think that you are dating Dean?”

Ginny looked horrified.  “But I only said that to get Ron off my back,” she gasped.  “I didn’t think he would take it so seriously.”

“It's kinda my fault,” Ron interjected.  “I gave Ginny a hard time last year over who she was dating, because I felt that she should really be dating Harry.  She said that she was dating Dean to teach me a lesson.  She finally told me she had made it up last week, when we stayed up all night talking.”

“Okay,” Molly nodded, frowning a little.  “And what about you and Hermione?”

Ron flushed bright red, and looked at the floor, while Hermione blushed as well.

Ginny just looked amused.

“Shall I read out what Harry had to say about you two?”

“Yes,” Ginny said, before the other two could say anything.

“Oh, and Ron, if Ginny can ask Dean out, surely you can ask Hermione out ?” Molly quoted.

“Well, Ginny didn’t ask Dean,” Ron protested.  “But, I guess he’s right.  Hermione, will you please go out with me?  I’ve been trying to ask you for a year now.”

“Really?” Hermione squeaked.

Ron nodded.

“Yes!” Hermione grinned, then leaned in and hugged him.

“What else did Harry say?” Ginny asked, moving back to the subject in hand.

“Here,” Molly handed them the note.

“It’s Harry’s handwriting,” Hermione mumbled, reading it over.  “And it sounds like him.”

“Hedwig delivered it,” Molly added calmly, moving back to her bread.

“But why would he think that I’m dating Dean?” Ginny asked, looking confused.  “I thought it was obvious I wasn’t serious.”

Hermione winced.  “That’s probably my fault.  I told him that you had given up on him.”

Ginny groaned and banged her head onto the table.  “Don’t tell me.  In Harry logic, that means, ‘Ginny doesn’t fancy me at all, I should think of her as a sister.’”

Hermione nodded.

“Don’t worry, Gin,” Ron said, giving his sister a brief hug.  “We’ll be able to sort it out when we get back to school.”

“Yeah,” Hermione said.  “With the three of us, he won’t have a chance.”

“Besides,” Ron said with a grin.  “What are the chances of him finding anyone to go out with when he’s in hiding?”

“I’ll need to tell Professor Dumbledore about this note,” Molly interrupted.  She was quite pleased with Ron’s reactions, and amused that their thoughts had been more about romance than the fact that Harry was obviously still missing.  They clearly trusted the message he had sent, and that was good enough for her.

“Voldemort doesn’t know anything at all,” Snape said to the assembled Order of the Phoenix.

“So we still don’t have a clue where Harry is?”

“No,” Dumbledore agreed.  “All we have is this letter from him that his owl delivered to Molly.”

“What does the letter say?”

“That he’s fine, safe, and happy.”

“Ron, Hermione and Ginny feel that the letter is genuine,” Molly added.

“Be that as it may,” Dumbledore said slowly.  “I do feel that he would be better protected with us.”  He ignored the snort from Tonks.  “I propose sending him a Portkey, and even should someone else open it accidentally, we can find out from them exactly where Harry is, and rescue him.”

“And if he doesn’t want to be rescued?” Tonks asked.

“Nymphadora,” Dumbledore said reproachfully.  “Harry will be best with his friends and people who care about him.”

“And his wishes are to be ignored?”

“We don’t know if that letter is genuine.”

Tonks shook her head.  “I think we should leave Harry alone.”

“Noted,” Dumbledore said firmly.  “I will send the Portkey tomorrow.  I believe I shall set it to bring Harry back to the Weasleys, so that he is somewhere familiar.  Severus, Nymphadora, if you would accompany me tomorrow, to ensure that if someone else returns, there is nothing we can not handle.”

Using the Time-Turner five times had proved rather confusing for the teenagers, not least when they met themselves in different locations.

But the intensive training had helped them both get a firm grasp on Occlumency, and the beginnings of Legilimency.  Maggie had promised to come back next week - in real time - to take them for another five-day course.

Dobby had been deliriously happy to be able to produce fifteen meals for Harry in one day - and hadn’t even bothered to use a Time-Turner.  The hard work had been enough reward for him.

Harry and Pansy had fallen into a pattern of sleeping together at night.  There was no intimacy, or even romantic looks; they had each taken one side of the king-sized bed, and slept on it.

They were having breakfast, and looking forward to the day off, when an alarm sounded.

“What’s that?” Harry asked, reaching for his wand.

“Mail Alarm,” Pansy explained.  “Someone’s just sent a Portkey through the mail.  Some of dad’s rivals tried to kidnap me once when I was young - got my Nanny instead - and Dad had the wards made shortly afterwards.”

A brown owl knocked on the windows.

Pansy opened it, and then closed it behind the bird.  “Don’t touch her yet.  Let me get my parents.”

She poked her head out of the door, only to find that her parents were already there, having heard the alarm.

“Portkey for Harry?” Malcom asked, looking at the bird that was sitting firmly in front of the boy, his leg out.

“I guess,” Harry said.  “I suppose that Dumbledore didn’t appreciate me asking to be left alone.”

“How are we going to handle this,” Gruoch asked.  “If any of us go, we’ll be recognised instantly.”

“I could go like this,” Pansy offered.  “I wouldn’t be recognised.”

“Actually,” Harry interrupted, “You probably would.  Dumbledore can see through invisibility cloaks, so he can probably see through a glamour as well.”

“Is Dumbledore trying take Harry Potter sir back?” Dobby asked.  No-one was quite sure when he had arrived, but they had all noticed the house-elf took it upon himself to know everything that was going on with Harry.

“Yes, Dobby,” Harry said.

“Dobby would like to help, but Dobby still works for Dumbledore,” Dobby stated.

Harry blinked at the house-elf, before smiling slightly.  “Dobby, how would you like to come and work for me?  I’ll double what ever Dumbledore is paying you, and you’d be my personal house-elf.”

Dobby smiled widely and hugged Harry’s leg.  “Dobby would be honoured to work for the great Harry Potter sir.”  He reached out and grabbed hold of the bird, expertly untying the parchment and letting the Portkey, a small Muggle lollipop, bounce on to the table.  He handed Harry the letter.

Harry sighed, “It basically says that for the sake of my safety, it would be better if I was to use this Portkey to go to the Weasleys, where Remus and my friends are waiting for me.”

“You don’t want to go?” Gruoch asked.

Harry shook his head, missing the look of relief that appeared on all of their faces - especially Pansy.

“Ron and Hermione could do with a summer getting to know each other.  I might have been tempted, but Ginny’s dating Dean, so that’s no reason to go.  If I go there, I have yet another summer wondering what’s going on, wishing I could do what ever I wanted to do to get Voldemort killed.  If I stay here, I have the freedom to spend time with people who aren’t afraid of Voldemort, and are giving me what I need to get the job done.”

“Besides,” he smiled slightly.  “I’m enjoying making a new friend.”

He turned to Dobby, missing the blush that appeared on Pansy’s face.  “What do you think, Dobby?”

“Dobby thinks that Harry Potter should stay with the Park’sons.  The Park’sons are a good Wizarding family, who have looked after Harry Potter.  Dobby will go and talk to Dumbledore, and tell him that Dobby quits and is Harry Potter’s elf now.  And tell him to leave Harry Potter alone.”  Before Harry or anyone else could stop him, Dobby grabbed the Portkey and vanished.

“That is one remarkable elf you have there Harry, but you should really find out what he was earning before you offered to double it,” Malcom advised.

“A galleon a month,” Harry said casually.  “It’s obviously a token gesture, but the amount means more to Dobby that it does to me.”

Malcom nodded.  “Sorry, shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

Harry smiled.  “Don’t worry about it.  You don’t really know me that well yet.”

Dumbledore, Tonks, and Snape were sitting in the living room at the Burrow, along with Mrs Weasley, the twins, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

There was an uncomfortable silence, as Molly had explained what had happened with Harry to her children and Hermione, and they all agreed that it was a bad idea to try bring Harry back against his will.

Snape was glowering at everyone, shaking his head disgustedly.

“Here we go,” Albus said suddenly, his eyes going distant.  “The Portkey has just been activated.”

Snape pulled his wand, and pointed it in front of the fireplace.

A second later, with a small pop, Dobby appeared with a frown on his face.

There was a second of stunned silence in the room.

“Dobby?” Professor Dumbledore asked.  “What are you doing here?”

“Dobby is a free elf, correct?”

Dumbledore nodded automatically.

“Dobby hereby quits Dumbledore’s employment.  Dobby is now Harry Potter’s personal house-elf.  As such, Dobby brings a message from his new master.  Leave Harry Potter alone.  Harry Potter is protected and happy where he is.”

Snape got to his feet, his wand still pointed at Dobby.  “Tell me where Potter is you stupid, worthless house-elf, or I’ll pin your ears to the wall.”

Dobby threw both his hands forward, and Snape flew through the air, impacting hard on the stone wall, before collapsing into unconsciousness.

“Snape is a very nasty man, who mind raped Harry,” Dobby spat, disgustedly.  “Dobby is not worthless or stupid.  Dobby is highest paid house-elf in world, with a great and powerful master.  If Snape comes near Dobby again, Dobby will turn Snape into a pig.”

Dobby turned back to Dumbledore.  “Dumbledore promised Dobby that Harry Potter was safe and protected.  Dobby saw Harry Potter when he was rescued from the filthy Muggles.  Harry Potter was not safe with evil Dursleys.  The Dursleys were killing Harry Potter sir.  Dumbledore lied to Dobby.  Shame on Dumbledore.

“Harry Potter safe and well; he is missing his friends, but thinks his Wheezy and Grangy need to become good friends.  And that it is a pity that small Wheezy dating Toomas.  Harry Potter is happy that small Wheezy happy and Dobby thinks Harry Potter sir find his own good friend with Mistress.”

Dobby turned to Mrs Weasley.  “Dobby is cooking very big meals for Harry Potter.  He is eating as much as he can.”

“Thank you, Dobby,” Mrs Weasley said faintly.

“The next time Dumbledore try to steal Harry Potter from safety, Dobby will not be nice about saying no.”

With his final threat delivered, Dobby vanished with a pop.

Ginny was the first to move, as she unravelled what Dobby had said.  “Oh no!” she cried.  “Harry still thinks I’m dating Dean, and Dobby thinks that Harry will find his own person to date.”

She burst into tears, to be consoled by Hermione.

“Why do you insist on bringing Snape anywhere near Harry?” Tonks demanded.  “And what’s this about a mind rape?”

“I don’t know,” Dumbledore said slowly, ignoring the first part of the question.  He appeared perplexed.  “I’ve never seen a house-elf act like that before.  They’re supposed to cower in front of wizards.”

“Harry made friends with Dobby,” Ron said.  “Dobby has always been loyal to Harry.  Obviously Dobby is with Harry, wherever he is, so I’d say that Harry is safe.”

“And well fed,” Molly added.

“Yeah,” one of the twins said.  “But I wonder who this Mistress is.  And just how is Harry going to make good friends with her.”

“Dobby has told Dumbledore,” Dobby said proudly.  “Evil Snape tried to intimidate Dobby, he doesn’t treat house-elves right.  Dobby threw Evil Snape into a wall, like ex-master.  I told Harry’s Wheezy to become good friends with Grangy and told Wheezy Mum that Dobby is feeding Harry Potter all the food he can eat.”  Dobby paused, and looked at the table, and noticed that, while there was enough for four people to eat normally, there wasn’t enough for what Dobby thought Harry should be eating.  “Dobby will bring more food for Master and Mistress Park’son immediately,” he said, and popped back out.

Pansy grinned.  “Join us for breakfast, mum, dad?”

“I guess so,” Malcom said blandly, as more food started to appear in front of them.  “I’ll say one thing for him, he can certainly cook.”

“He’s probably got our house-elves whipped into shape,” Gruoch said, helping herself to a portion of scrambled eggs.

“Harry,” Malcom said, as they finished their meal.  “This Time-Turner business is making it difficult for us, we wanted to talk to you when you’re feeling better.  For us, it’s only been a single day, but for you and Pansy it’s been five.”

“I’m feeling fine now, better than I have, well, ever.”

Malcom nodded.  “Harry, we find ourselves in an unusual situation.  We have two paths ahead of us, and we want to talk to you about that.  But first, let me say that whatever you decide, the plan for this summer remains unchanged.  We owe your parents a large amount of our happiness, so it is our pleasure to pay them back.”

Harry nodded solemnly.  He’d been expecting Malcom to talk to him at some stage, so he wasn’t surprised by the offer.  What he did know was that he liked both the senior Parkinsons.

“Path number one is to join up with Dumbledore, supporting him, and through him, you, in the battle against Voldemort.”

“And path two?” Harry asked curiously.

“We back you personally, ignore Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, and forge our own way to victory.”

Harry blinked - he hadn’t expected that.

“We don’t trust Dumbledore to get the job done.  From what we’ve seen of you, and from what Maggie has told me, we can trust you.

“I’ve already started some things at the Ministry to remind Fudge of his position in life - doing what I tell him.”

“What would you get out of this?”

Malcom smiled.  “Apart from peace and prosperity, which is great for business, we’d be recognised as good guys for the first time - which would open doors that are currently closed to us.  We’d be able to crush Lucius into the ground, and I know that Pansy has some wonderful plans for Malfoy Manor.  And, we’d have you as a very close friend, which would be worth a lot in its own right at some stage.

“We can bring in the Goblins to help out our side, and you can bring in the house-elves, so we have the start of a force already.  Add to that our interests in the Muggle world, and we have a very interesting group of people working together.

“We are willing to back this group financially, no matter how much it costs.  The way things stand at the moment, we are in trouble; if Voldemort gets to us, we would lose our lives, and our money will go to him, regardless.

“If we join Dumbledore, and there’s no knowing if he’d accept us or not, we’d be in a similar position to you - used for our resources, then dumped when we are no longer necessary.

“But if we back and train you, we might lose everything, but if we don’t, we’ll make massive profits; and entrench ourselves in the public’s good books.

“We will pledge our family loyalty to you, help you become what you need to become, and do everything in our power to make sure you survive.”

Harry nodded slowly, digesting what had been offered.  Once again, he appreciated being treated as a full adult by them.  As before, they had explained exactly what they wanted from him, how they wanted to get it, and what they were willing to do in the meantime.  This transaction-based relationship was very reassuring.  There was no doubting their motives because they had stated them from the start.

There was also the promise of the future.

They were promising to try and make sure that he would actually survive against Voldemort.  For so long, he had been unable to picture his future, that there was a big wall where he would meet Voldemort, with nothing beyond it.  Now, he could see some sort of light behind it, and he liked the idea.

The only problem he had, was did he want to strike out on his own?  Did he want to take responsibility for people?

The idea of involving the house-elves and the Goblins was a good one; why not involve other beings who so obviously were going to be affected by what was going on in the Wizarding world?.  He had often thought that the myopic view of the Wizarding world that most wizards held was simply ridiculous.

So it all came down to a simple choice: Did he want to continue to follow Dumbledore, or did he want to trust himself enough to go his own way?

“Whatever you decide,” he heard Pansy say, a hint of shyness in her voice, “I’ll stand by you.”

He turned and shot her a smile.  He guessed now that he had made friends with her properly, and he did really like her.  She had a sharp, caustic wit that made him laugh, a warm caring nature, and while most certainly intelligent, she wasn’t scarily smart.  She didn’t make him self-conscious.  There was a naturalness about her that really attracted him.

He turned back to her father.  “Voldemort is going down,” he said calmly.  He’d made his decision, now it was time to start it working.  For the first time, he felt excited about the possibilities.  “I can’t trust Dumbledore anymore; I’ve lived firsthand through his care, and refuse to do it anymore.”  He cracked a smile.  “Let’s go for it.”

Malcom stood, and offered his hand, a gesture that Harry reciprocated.  Pansy and Gruoch joined them as well, and they stood there for a few seconds.

“Harry, I’m going to find out about Sirius’ Will.  And see what is happening with your family’s fortune.”

“I have a family fortune?” Harry asked, looking a little surprised.

“You certainly should have,” Gruoch said calmly.  “We just have to find out what it’s doing at the moment.  It should be in trust for you, but with the Dursleys now in trouble, we need to see if we can get you access to it.”

Harry nodded.  “What happened to them, anyway?”

Malcom smiled.  “Well, after the mess with the police, Dursley was fired from his job, on his front lawn, while one of our people took his company car away.  He broke down into tears and begged for his job back.

“My man there pointed out, quite firmly, that child abusers were not welcome in our company, and that directly insulting the owner of the company was sufficient for immediate discharge without compensation.

“I’m afraid there was quite a scene, and all the neighbours saw it.”

Harry laughed and laughed.  “What about Dudley?”

“Well, his jaw is now wired together, so he’ll be eating through a straw for some time.”

“Might help him lose weight,” Pansy grinned.

“Indeed.  Anyway, he’s no longer welcome at Smeltings after his confessions, so he’ll be going to the local comprehensive school.”

“What are you two going to do today?” Gruoch asked, moving the conversation on.

“I’m going to teach Harry something very important,” Pansy stated confidently.

“What’s that?” Harry asked, turning to the long haired brunette.

“How to have fun,” she smiled.  “I’m going to teach you how to ride a horse.  And before you complain, you rode a Hippogriff, and it’s much easier than that.”

Harry smiled slightly. “Could you see if you could find out what happened to Buckbeak?” he asked Malcom.  “He’s a Hippogriff that was staying with Sirius before he died.”

Malcom nodded, and made a note on a pad.  “You’ve ridden a Hippogriff?” he asked.

Harry nodded, relaxing back into his chair, and recounted the tale from his third year.

“Wear jeans,” Pansy advised, as she walked into her own room to get dressed.

Having grown up around horses, she had all the necessary equipment, and it didn’t take long for her to put on her Jodhpurs and riding boots.  She topped off the outfit with a gingham shirt, deciding that she didn’t need to go all out with the riding jacket.

She tied her hair back into a loose ponytail and absently freshened her lipstick.  Most witches didn’t wear cosmetics, preferring to use small spells to accomplish a similar effect.  Because she lived under a glamour spell while at Hogwarts, she had started to use make-up as a substitute, and she admitted that they made her look better than spells could.

She walked back over to Harry’s room, and paused in the doorway, enjoying the sight.  Although he was still thin, she was starting to see hints of the man he was going to become, and she liked it.

“Ready?”

“You do know I’ve never been near a horse before, right?” Harry asked.

“Don’t worry,” she said reassuringly.  “Thunder and Lightning are good horses.”

“You’re putting me on a horse named after a storm?”  Harry’s expression was distinctly worried.

“You’ll be fine,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him out the door.  As they walked down the hall, she suddenly hip-checked him into the wall and shouted, “Race you!”

She took off, running as fast as she could in her boots, laughing under her breath.

“Hey!” she heard Harry shout, and then heard him start to run, catching up with her.  She jumped through a door and slammed it shut behind her, grinning at the thump he made as he ran into it.

She dashed down the stairs and risked a look back as she reached the bottom, only to find Harry had straddled the balustrade and was riding it like a broom.  He flipped off at the bottom, narrowly avoiding injuring himself, and started to run after her.

Still laughing, she ducked out the door and headed towards the stables.  On open ground, in uncomfortable boots, she knew she would have no chance of outrunning him normally, but his lack of fitness was hindering him, and he arrived at the stable door a few seconds after she did.

He collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily.

“I didn’t realise how unfit I was,” he panted, his face red with exertion.

Pansy knelt next to him.  “We’re going to start running every morning,” she promised him.  “With the food Dobby is feeding you, the exercise you’re going to get from the training, and from me, we’ll have you in the best shape of your life as soon as possible.”

“Thanks,” he whispered.

She reached out and lightly touched his shoulder.  “Rest here, while I get the horses ready.”

He nodded, rolling on to his back, and relaxed in the sunlight.

Thunder and Lightning were her two favourite horses.  Thunder was a huge, black stallion, while Lightning was a smaller, white mare, and was Thunder’s sister.  She’d watch them both be born about four years ago, and had ridden both.  Despite his size, Thunder had a very placid nature, and she knew she could trust him to look after Harry.

“Hey, big boy,” she smiled at him, rubbing his nose firmly.  “Got a new rider for you today, and he’s kinda special to me, so look after him, all right?”

Thunder whinnied, and prodded her shoulder firmly.

“Okay, okay,” she laughed, laying a blanket over his back.  “We’ll have you out of here in a minute.”

It didn’t take her long for her to saddle both horses, and she grabbed their reins, and led them out to Harry.

“Crikey,” Harry said, looking at the black horse.  “He’s huge.”

“Harry, meet Thunder, Thunder, meet Harry.”

Harry stood, and approached the horse slowly.  He bowed once, and then moved closer, moving his hand out to stroke his nose.

“Very good,” Pansy praised him, and felt a little shock as he responded to her praise with a bright smile.

“I was just remembering how I approached Buckbeak,” he said, letting the horse sniff him.

“Ready to climb on board?”

Harry nodded decisively.  “You’ve got me out here; I’m not going to back off now.”

“Right,” Pansy said, as she lost her jokiness.  “The first thing you need to check is that the girth on the horse is nice and tight.  Too tight, and it will hurt the horse; not tight enough, and you’ll find yourself riding upside down.”

Harry nodded, and pulled slightly at the black leather.

“What you’re going to do is turn the stirrup so that it’s facing you.  Then reach up and grab the pommel.  Put your left foot in the stirrup, then in one smooth movement, lift yourself up and swing your right leg over the back of Thunder, landing in the saddle.  Be careful not to kick him as you go up, as he will take that as a command to go forwards.”

Harry nodded and took a deep breath.

“I’m going to stand in front of Thunder, and make sure he’s alright.”  Doing as she said, she moved in front of the large horse and grabbed his reins firmly.

“Okay,” Harry said.

Pansy watched as he followed her instructions to the letter, landing a little heavily in the saddle.  Thunder snorted once and rolled his eyes at Pansy.

“Idiot,” she whispered fondly, kissing his nose.  “Here,” she said to Harry.  “Hold these tightly.”  She handed him the reins.  “And don’t move.”

She moved around the side, and checked his stirrup length, adjusting them slightly so that his legs were slightly bent.  “How’s that?”

“Better,” Harry replied, a touch of nervousness in his voice.  “It’s a lot higher up here than it was on Buckbeak.”

“Relax,” Pansy smiled.  “At least this horse remains on the ground.”

“I like flying, though.”

Pansy grinned at him, and then jogged over to Lightning, mounting her horse in one smooth movement.

“Sit like I am,” Pansy said, moving Lightning next to Thunder.  “Straighten your back a little, but don’t be rigid.  Hold your arms out like this, so that they become an extension of the reins.  Now, hold your hands face down with your fingers pointing towards the horse's neck - place your little finger under the rein and the other fingers over the rein and the thumb underneath. Curl your fingers around the rein, and then turn your hand so your thumb is on top and your knuckles are facing forward.”

“This isn’t very comfortable,” Harry mumbled, as he followed her instructions and held the reins properly.

“You’ll get used to it quickly.  Ready to move?”

“No,” Harry replied promptly, a grin on his face.

“Just squeeze your lower legs together a little, and Thunder will start to walk.”

She watched as he moved, and Thunder started to walk forwards.  She smiled encouragingly as he looked back at her.  “Keep a tight grip on the reins,” she said loudly.

She had been positive that he was a natural rider.  She’d been really impressed with how well he had ridden the Hippogriff in their third year.  Normally, she would have started a new rider on one of the smaller horses in their stable, but she had felt that Harry would enjoy the big horse more.”

“Come on, Lightning,” she said to her horse.  “Let’s not let the boys get ahead.”

Lightning whinnied her agreement and set off at a quick trot.

“Head to the left, Harry; we’ll go through the fields.”

A few hours of walking and trotting later, they returned to the edge of the field that led to the stables.

Pansy took a moment to watch Harry, sitting comfortably on the big black horse, his posture relaxed and upright.  He was confidently holding the reins loosely.  She took a deep breath, and whispered a quick prayer that her instincts were right.

“Hey, Harry?”

“Yeah?”

She flashed him her best smile.  “Race you!” She dug her heels firmly into Lightning’s flank, and crouched forwards.  Lightning took off, eager to stretch her legs.

“Come on Thunder,” Harry shouted.  “She’s beaten me once today; I don’t want to lose again!”

With the wind whipping her hair back, she glanced over her shoulder and smiled widely.  Harry and Thunder were catching up on them, in full gallop, but it was the expression on his face that she had wanted to see.  He looked free, like all his cares and worries had dropped away.  He had a massive smile on his face, as he crouched low over the horse.

She turned her attention back to the front and reached down to smack Lightning harder, encouraging her to go faster.  Her horse responded, till Pansy felt like she was flying as well.

She was confident she would win now, until Thunder flew past her at top speed.  She gasped, never having seen her horse move so fast.  She pulled up, easing the gallop, and watched Harry as he pulled back on the reins, causing Thunder to come to a skidding stop.

Harry slipped out of the saddle and wrapped his arms around the horse, praising it loudly.

Thunder pranced a little, obviously being careful not to stand on his human.

“I think you’ve made another new friend,” Pansy said, as she slipped off Lightning.

“He’s wonderful,” Harry said reverently.  “It’s like flying, but almost better because you’re with another animal.  I felt so close to him.”

“That’s what riding is all about,” Pansy said, aware that she had probably smiled more today than she had in the past six months.  “Are you going to help me put them away and feed them?”

“Absolutely.”

“Come on then,” she said, grabbing Lightning’s reins, and leading the horse into the stables.

“Pansy?” Harry called.

“Yes, Harry?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Harry,” Malcom called, and paused till Harry joined him.  “This is Peirce McKenzie, our family Medi-wizard.”

“Hi,” Harry said, suddenly feeling a little nervous.  He looked at the doctor and was almost instantly reassured.  The man was wearing tweed, and had a flat cap on his head.  He was a little portly, and had bright blue eyes that seemed to take in everything around him.

“Hi, Harry,” Peirce said calmly.  “You seem to be moving a little stiffly.”

Harry laughed, “First time on a horse today.  My bowleggedness has nothing to do with the past.”

Peirce nodded.  “Well, if we step into the study, we can get started.”

Harry nodded, and walked towards the room in question.  He had been dreading this for some time.  It was much easier to pretend that everything was going to be alright, when he was at school or elsewhere, but he knew that there was a chance that the Dursleys had done some permanent damage, and he was scared to find out how much.

“When was the last time you had your eyes checked, old boy?”

“When I was about six,” Harry said, after a second’s thought.  He honestly couldn’t remember any other time; his glasses had just seemed to grow with him.

“We’ll start there, then,” the Medi-wizard said, as he pulled out his wand and cast a spell on the wall.  “Take off your glasses and read the letters, there’s a good chap.”

“What are you doing,” Harry asked, as the wizard moved next to him.

“I’m going to cast a spell on the air in front of your eyes, sport.  We’re going to see what’s causing your bad eyesight, and whether or not it can be fixed.”

Harry nodded, and stared at the wall.  The first four rows were pretty clear, but after that they descended into a blur.  He started to read from the top.

“Excellent,” Peirce said.  “The good news is that you are myopic, or near sighted.”

“That’s good news?”

Peirce smiled, handing Harry his glasses back.  “Yes, it is.  Because the source of your problem is the way that the cornea focuses light, we can do something about it.  Muggles have this wonderful new surgery called Lasik.

“It stands for ‘Laser-Assisted In Situ Keratomileusis’ and is a procedure that permanently changes the shape of the cornea, the clear covering of the front of the eye, using an excimer laser. A microkeratome knife is used to cut a small flap in the corner, leaving a small bit like a hinge.  The flap is folded back, so that they can use a computer-controlled laser to vaporise part of it; then they replace the flap and everything heals naturally.

Harry blinked.  “You want me to let someone cut open my eye and vaporise part of it?”

“Yes,” Peirce grinned.  “It’s not as bad as it sounds; the risks are minimal, but the result is that you will be able to see properly.”

“Okay,” Harry said slowly.  He was fully aware of the fact that he was as blind as a bat without his glasses, and he didn’t relish facing Voldemort knowing that a simple Accio spell could render him useless.

“Moving on, let’s see why you’re still a short-arse.”

“A short-arse?” Harry laughed.  “What sort of bedside manner is that?”

“One influenced by Malcom, Gruoch and Pansy,” he admitted cheerfully.  “Now stand up and take your top off.”

“Forward as well,” Harry muttered.

“I heard that, old bean.”

“You were supposed to.”

“Well, you’ve not got enough meat on here to feed a rat,” the doctor said jovially.  “I’m going to cast a few spells on you now, so don’t move.”

Harry stood stationary, as the Medi-wizard cast four quick spells at him; each one came out the wand a different colour.

“You, my thin friend, are a mess.  The lack of food at key times has stunted your growth. You should be around the six foot mark in a year or so’s time, but as it is you’ll be lucky to reach five eight.

“The pituitary gland is a pea-sized structure located at the base of the brain, it controls how the body grows and at what time.  Your atrocious diet has meant your body didn’t think you had enough energy to facilitate the growth, so it didn’t kick in.

“We can fix this for you, but it’s going to be a little difficult.”

“What do I have to do?” Harry asked, suddenly feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“You’re going to have to eat a lot of food over the next day or so, and then we’ll give you a potion that will force your body to grow over the space of twenty-four hours.  It will be pretty painful.”

Harry gulped.  “I guess if that’s what I need to do, I’ll do it.”

“That’s the spirit old boy,” Peirce said excitedly.  “Why don’t you get dressed while I go and talk to Malcom.”

“How is he?” Pansy demanded, as Peirce walked into the library.

“Short, slightly grumpy, but has nice eyes,” the Medi-wizard responded, “but I suspect that you’ve noticed that.”

Pansy felt herself blushing, and poked her tongue out.

“Is that an invitation to cut it off?”

Pansy groaned.  “Enough teasing.  How is Harry?”

“A mess, but nothing we can’t fix.  His eyesight we can fix with Muggle Laser surgery, and his height and general body mass we can do with a potion.  He’s going to have to recover for a few days after the Laser surgery, so it might be a good idea if he does the potion at the same time.  From what you have told me, he is no stranger to pain, so let’s get it all out the way at once.”

“Pain?” Pansy queried, not liking the sound of that in the least.

“Yes.  We’re going to force his body to grow several inches in twenty-four hours.  At the same time, his eyes are going to be adjusting to the effects caused by the surgery.  It certainly won’t be pleasant.”

Malcom nodded.  “We are on a tight deadline here,” he said slowly.  “Peirce, can you get Harry an appointment for tomorrow?”

“It won’t be cheap,” the doctor advised.

“I don’t care.  Find the best in the country, find out how much they charge, and offer them triple for it to be done tomorrow.”

Peirce nodded solemnly.  “I’ll have the potion here tomorrow night.  Harry will need to start eating tonight - and I mean stuff him to the gills.”

“We will do that,” Malcom promised.  “Thank you for coming at such short notice.”

“My pleasure, as always.  Malcom, Pansy,” the doctor said formally, as he turned and walked out the room.

“Dobby,” Pansy called, and waited a few seconds for the House elf to appear.  “We are going to be taking Harry to a hospital tomorrow to fix his eyes, then in the evening we’re going to be giving him a growth potion.  To make sure everything works properly, Harry needs to eat more than normal.”

Dobby looked delighted.  “Dobby will get to work immediately.  Harry Potter sir will have all of his favourites.  Dobby likes the idea that Harry Potter be full size.  House-elf size is good for house-elves, but it’s not so good for great and powerful magicians.”

Pansy laughed as Dobby popped back out of the Library.

“We’re going to have to try and find out if we can get more house-elves to act like Dobby,” Malcom said thoughtfully.  “It would be worth the cost of paying them to get intelligent servants.  I’m not comfortable with indentured slaves; the chance of rebellion is always there.”

Pansy nodded.  “As Voldemort will hopefully find out.”

“What will Voldemort find out?” Harry asked as he joined them, fully dressed again.

“That house-elves should be treated properly, not as slaves, so they won’t betray their masters.”

Harry settled down in to a chair comfortably.  “For a lot of house-elves, they are loyal to their masters; they take it to an extreme level.  Dobby has always been an unusual one, he has always seen me as a saviour, and it took me some time to get him to understand that we are friends.”

“When we brought you here, one of our house-elves recognised you, and immediately popped out.  Dobby arrived a few minutes later.”

Harry frowned.  “Dobby,” he called, as he snapped his fingers.

Dobby appeared a second later, and immediately handed Harry a huge roast beef sandwich.  “Harry Potter sir needs to eat so that potion will work.”

“Thanks,” Harry grinned.  “Take a seat, Dobby, I want to ask you a few questions.”

“Dobby is honoured,” the elf said clearly.  “Dobby has never been asked to sit with Masters before.”

“Friends,” Harry corrected.  “I might be employing you now, but we are still friends.”

Dobby beamed at Harry.

“Pansy was just telling me that when I was bought here, a house-elf appeared to recognise me.”

Dobby nodded eagerly.  “Dobby told all house-elves to look out for Harry Potter sir, just in case.  You have a habit of getting into nasty situations where Dobby can’t help you.”

Pansy couldn’t help snickering at that comment and tried to look innocent when Harry shot a reproachful look at her.

“I thought that house-elves wouldn’t betray their masters, though,” Harry said.

Dobby slowly lost his bright smile, and looked directly at Harry.

“Some house-elves see Dobby, and see how happy and free Dobby is and some house-elves want that freedom.  Dobby doesn’t have to punish himself, or be punished.  Dobby has been encouraged talk more like Wizards, and to treat Wizards more as equal.  Harry Potter sir treat Dobby right, Dobby want other wizards to treat him the same way.

“House-elves hear about Dobby, so Dobby has visited them and told them how Dobby has a great life.  Dobby tells everyone that Harry Potter understands house-elves, and will help house-elves.

“Ms Grangy, Harry Potter sir’s friend, gives very bad help.  She tries to trick house-elves into receiving clothes.  Hogwarts house-elves are very traditional, and are very well treated.  They do not see how bad some elves are treated, so they don’t want the freedom Dobby has.  Dobby told them that you are not like that, that Harry Potter is a great and wise wizard, and will help all house-elves that want help.

“House-elves are not betraying master, the house-elves are helping Dobby help Harry Potter sir so that Harry Potter will help house-elves.”

“I promise to do everything I can,” Harry promised, as he moved in front of Dobby and knelt.

Dobby nodded, smiling widely.  “Harry Potter is a great and powerful wizard,” he proclaimed, and gave Harry a quick hug.  “Now, Harry Potter sir should be eating his sandwich.  Dobby has dinner to cook.”  The elf vanished with his customary pop.

“Well handled,” Malcom praised with a thoughtful expression on his face.

Pansy smiled at Harry’s blush.  It was amazing to her how he still wasn’t used to positive reinforcement.  “Yeah,” she echoed.  “It does make sense, though.  But what did he mean about Granger giving bad help?”

Harry settled back into the chair and took a huge bite of his sandwich.  “Hermione learnt to knit and left pieces of clothing in the trash, so that house-elves would be freed when they found it.”

“That’s awful,” Pansy blurted.  “You can’t just free a creature that has no idea how to look after itself.  They’d end up starving to death.”

Malcom nodded.  “Quite right.  Still, what would be a good idea is if we arranged for the house-elves to work for a central company, and the company dealt directly with the wizarding families.  We could have a rulebook on acceptable treatment of elves, and harsh fines, including withdrawal of service, for anyone who breaks them.

“But this is a conversation for another day.  Why don’t you have a chat with Ms Granger about it when you get back to school?”

Harry nodded.  “I like the idea; I think we’ll get Dobby involved from the start.”

Malcom smiled.  “Okay, I need to get some work done, so I suggest you two go upstairs and do some research into the potion you’re going to be taking tomorrow.  Harry, I want you to use the Time-Turner so that you will be recovered in a day of normal time.”

“I’m staying with him,” Pansy commented.

“Of that, I had no doubt,” Malcom said dryly.

Pansy shot a look at Harry, to see what he felt about the idea, and was pleased that he was smiling at the idea as well.

“How did it go,” Gruoch asked, sitting down next to her husband.

“Interesting,” Malcom replied, giving her a quick rundown of the afternoon’s events.

“Why did you bring up Granger?”

Malcom smiled a bit.  “I’m hoping that by the time they go back to school, Harry will have developed reciprocal feelings for Pansy, so I wanted to give him a few ideas of things he could bring up if any of his friends complain about them dating.”

“I swear you should have been in Slytherin.”

Malcom grinned.  “Nah, I got the Ravenclaw education, and then managed to marry the best bit of Slytherin, so I got both.”

Gruoch laughed.  “You old charmer, you.”

“What do you mean, old?” Malcom demanded.  “I’m in the prime of my life.”

“Oh really, is that why you’ve gone up a trouser size recently?”

“Oh pish!” he responded.  “It’s nothing a bit of a diet won’t solve.”

“And some more exercise.  You spend too much time behind your desk.”

“Actually, you’re right,” Malcom sighed.  “We should both start to practise duelling a lot more.  We’re going to be in the front line of a war soon.  Perhaps we should use the Time-Turner as well.”

Tonks walked through the bright sunlight, and straight into a non-descript office block.  Inside the lift, she carefully pressed the two top buttons at once, and waited as the lift went higher than the indicator on the panel in front of her had a display for.

She walked out of the lift, and into a massive reception area.  A man lounged comfortably on one of the settees, but she wasn’t fooled.  She could feel his eyes on her, and knew that he was a highly trained bodyguard.

“I’m here to see Malcom,” she said to the receptionist calmly.  “Tell him his niece is waiting for him.”

“At once, Miss Tonks,” the reception said instantly, a bright smile on her face.

Tonks had no idea how the receptionist knew who she was.

“He’ll see you immediately.”

Tonks nodded and walked into the pale blue office.  A huge series of windows showed a fantastic view of London.

She pulled out her wand, almost smiling as she saw Malcom reach under his desk, and placed it down firmly in front of him.  She then removed her personal daggers, and left them on the desk as well.

“Nymphy?”

Tonks sat down opposite him, and took a deep breath.  “I know you have Harry.”

Malcom raised an eyebrow, the only expression that changed on his face.

“I do?” he asked curiously.

“Yes.  You only made one mistake.”

“Which was?” he asked, in a non-committal tone of voice.

“You were too perfect.  Some reported seeing a Bentley that night, and Arabella Figg saw a Mercedes - a Mercedes with a false licence plate.  It got me thinking, because you don’t normally see a Mercedes in Little Whinging.

“Harry had been removed from Privet Drive without actually setting foot outside, so he must have been levitated and invisible.  So there was definitely a wizard involved.  The Dursleys had been encouraged to confess as well, so that pointed to a wizard who wouldn’t mind using some of the closer to the edge spells.

“So, it was obvious to me that it needed to be a wizard who knew a hell of a lot about Muggles, had a car that no one, not even the Ministry, knows exists, and really doesn’t mind bending the rules.”

“I always knew there was a good brain behind that clumsy exterior.  What are you going to do with the knowledge?”  Malcom’s voice was cold, causing Tonks to instinctively want to morph into a bigger form.

“I want to talk to Harry.  I want to check that he’s alright, and maybe just tell him that Remus and his friends are alright.”

Malcom looked at her thoughtfully, and the feeling of coldness receded a little.  “I don’t mind you talking to Harry, but I do want your promise that anything you see is kept private.”

“I promise.”

“And that goes for Pansy as well.”

“Why?”

“Is it wrong for a father to want the best possible match for his daughter?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Pansy is falling deeply for Harry, perhaps already has, and he is a very special young man.  I don’t want anything getting in the way of Harry having returning her feelings.”

Tonks winced.  “You know that Ginny, Arthur’s youngest, still has feelings for him?”

“I was under the impression that she was dating a,” he checked a notebook in front of him, “Dean Thomas.”

“She did tell Harry that, but she didn’t expect it to be taken seriously.”

“If I allow you to see Harry, I want your promise not to mention that.  Pansy and Harry would make a very good couple, socially, politically, financially, and physically.  I believe that Pansy deserves her chance.  Without her, Harry would probably be dead by now.  It was her idea that we go and see him.”

Tonks nodded slowly; she did feel that Ginny had been pretty silly to say what she had, but remembered what it was like to be a teenager.  And maybe Pansy did deserve a chance at Harry.  She sighed mentally, deciding to not think about it till she could see how Pansy was reacting around Harry.  “I accept.”

“Come to the Manor for Dinner tomorrow then, it’s been a long time, Nymphy.”

She smiled slowly.  The hard part of the meeting was over, and she was no longer dealing with Malcom Parkinson, one of the most powerful men in Wizarding World, she was now dealing with Uncle Malcom, devoted family man.

Harry, Pansy, and Gruoch were driving through the leafy countryside.  The car was currently an Audi A6, and Gruoch was handling it with the smooth casualness that Harry was beginning to associate with everything the family did.

“So what did you think of Thunder?” Gruoch asked.

“Wonderful,” Harry said, a grin appearing on his face.  “Even without the flying, it was more fun than riding Buckbeak.  It was as good as riding a broom.”

“You do know that we have several brooms at the Manor?”

“Mum,” Pansy said warningly.

“Now sweetheart, you know how I feel about that.”

“But,”

“Can I ask what I’m missing here?” Harry asked.

Pansy turned and looked out the window, folding her arms across her chest.

“Pansy hasn’t been on a broom since she was twelve.  We had to get special permission for her to sit out the lessons at Hogwarts.”

“Because of...?”

“Exactly.”

Harry went silent, and looked at Pansy’s back.  He wanted to do something about this.  He could see quite clearly that Gruoch had brought it up deliberately.

“Hey,” he said quietly, reaching out and placing his hand on her shoulder.  He rubbed it gently, trying to offer some comfort.

“Pansy,” he said softly.  “Look at me, please?”

She turned her head slowly, reluctantly, and he was a little shocked to see a tear track down the side of her face.  He bit back the urge to touch her cheek, not thinking it was really appropriate.  “What would you have done if I’d fallen off Thunder yesterday?”

Pansy met his eyes, “Told you to get back on immediately.  And yes, I know what point you’re trying to make, but it’s different.”

“How?”

Pansy went silent, her eyes searching his, begging for something, but he didn’t know what.

“You made a mistake.  You learn from it, and don’t repeat it.  So why aren’t you flying again?”

“I’m scared! Happy?” she said angrily.

“A little,” he said, letting a hint of a smile show on his face.  “Fear is something we can fight.”

“Huh?”

“It’s something I’ve had a lot of practice with, and it’s something I know we can beat.  Just promise me you’ll let me try and fight it with you?”

Her grey eyes went wide, and he felt her staring hard at him.  “You’re going to help me fight it?”

“Damn right,” he responded.  “You’ve done so much for me, so there is no way on this earth that I’m going to bypass a chance to help you back.  And besides, it kinda makes you more human.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Harry smiled, letting his hand drop from her shoulder, and looked out the window again.  “That depends, I don’t think I could feel anything for a real Angel.”

He missed the delighted look that appeared on Pansy’s face, and the satisfied look that appeared on Gruoch’s.

As they approached the gates to the private Hospital, Gruoch touched her wand to the car stereo.  The car shifted again, and Harry and Pansy found themselves scrunched up in the small back seat.

“Sorry,” Gruoch said.  “But an Aston Martin DB7 is one of the most impressive cars in the world; it will ensure that we continue to get the service we are paying for.”

As the gates opened in front of her, she shoved accelerator to the floor; and laughed as the two teenagers were pressed back into the seat.  She navigated the curves in the road like she was rallying, and then slammed the brakes on, coming to a complete halt outside the doors.

“Remember,” she turned to look over her shoulder.  “Harry, you’re my son, Alan Parktree; Pansy, you’re his girlfriend, Sarah Clarke.  You’re going on a skiing holiday to New Zealand in three days time, and you need your eyes fixed before you go.   No one should ask about your scar, and if they do, I’ll be very annoyed.  We will be with you every step of the way, so don’t worry about anything.”

Pansy and Harry nodded, so she opened the door and swung her legs out.  An attendant appeared and offered to help her out of the low-slung car.  She hid a smile, positive that the help had nothing at all to do with the shortness of her skirt.  She shot him a flirtatious smile, and pulled on a pair of sunglasses, reaching into her pocket and grabbing a stick of gum.

She chewed, and said in a vapid voice.  “Come on Alan, Sarah, I’ve got a hair appointment with Jules I just can’t miss.”

“Coming, mum,” Harry said.

Gruoch sighed to herself softly, having heard the faint hitch in his voice.  ‘Don’t hate me for this, Lils,’ she thought to herself.  ‘You’re his mother, you always will be, we’re just acting.’

She trotted up the stone steps, and walked straight through the doors, barely acknowledging the doorman.  At the reception desk, she shot her fakest smile at the receptionist.  “Alan Parktree, for a two o’clock appointment.  My baby’s getting his eyes fixed.”

“Mummm,” Harry whined.

“What is it, pookie?”

“Not in front of the others,” Harry mumbled through gritted teeth.

“They don’t mind,” Gruoch said dismissively.  She was actually impressed with how well and how quickly he was responding to her act.  The boy obviously had some Slytherin inside him, which surprised her a little as both his parents had been picture-book Gryffindors.  It was probably due to his upbringing, she decided.

“Right this way, Mrs Parktree,” a new voice said, opening a door.

Gruoch nodded, and followed the young doctor down to a waiting room with a view of a pristine white surgery.  In the centre was a dentist type chair with a large machine to the right of it.

“I’m Doctor Aurora,” the young man introduced himself.  “I know that you’re in a hurry, so I’ll get straight to the point.”

“Thank you,” Gruoch simpered.  “Will it hurt my little bundle of fluff?”

“Mummm!”

“Not at all, Mrs Parktree,” the doctor said reassuringly.  “What we’re going to do is apply some anaesthetic eye drops, and then we’ll hold his eyes open with some clips, and perform the surgery.  He shouldn’t feel a thing.

“Alan, if you’ll sit in here,” he indicated a wheelchair.  “We’ll take you into the theatre and get started.”

Harry nodded, sitting down quickly.

“Be brave, my little soldier,” Gruoch said, walking over and kissing him firmly on the forehead.

“Don’t worry, Alan,” Pansy said with a smile.  “You’ll do fine.” She leant and gave him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Gruoch smiled at the look on Harry’s face.  It was a mixture of shock and pleasure.  She smiled, even though it was hard to see her daughter grow up.  She had started dating Malcom in their fifth year, so she felt hypocritical saying anything to stop the pair.  Besides, she liked Harry, and much preferred him to that slimy rat, Draco.

Draco had far too much of his father in him; he had been spoilt rotten all his life, and had the opinion that everyone and everything revolved around him personally.  Still, it was to be expected with Lucius, a simpering toadie, behind his smooth manners, and Narcissa, a raging alcoholic.

She watched as Harry was wheeled into the surgery, and moved on to the operating chair.

She hadn’t been aware that her daughter had hidden herself in front of Draco, but had to admire the strategy.  Sometimes the best place to hide was in plain sight; and by practising reverse psychology, she had achieved her aim.

She wondered if Pansy would go back to school under her disguise, and suspected that the answer would depend a lot on Harry.

When he had told Pansy he was going to help her overcome her fear of flight, was the moment that she had truly accepted him as part of her family.  She would have helped him, even if he had been a git, because of James and Lily, but his sense of dedication and willingness to give back had impressed her.  His simple, 'see a problem, make a plan to fix it,' attitude had proved that he was worthy of being a Parkinson.

She had always wanted a son, but unfortunately, complications arising from Pansy’s birth had meant that she couldn’t have another child.  Having a son-in-law was the nearest she was going to get, and this particular person would fit that bill perfectly.  It was going to be a pain for her to take a step back and let them discover for themselves if they would want to spend the rest of their lives together.

“Sneaking your first kiss?” she smirked slightly to her daughter, enjoying the way her normally unflappable child blushed.

“You said I was his girlfriend,” Pansy pointed out.

”And like a true Parkinson you saw your opportunity and took it.”

Pansy grinned.  “Yep.”

“Both your father and I approve.”

“Thanks, mum,” Pansy whispered, so that it was only just audible.

“Just continue to take your time, and he’ll come around eventually.”

“I know,” she sighed.  “If he was anyone else, I’d just kiss him senseless.  You know he’s not even tried anything at night with me?”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from him.”

“I know,” Pansy’s smile suddenly turned playful.  “Not that I would have minded that much.”

Gruoch rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses.  “Tell me again why I’m letting you do that?”

“Because you trust me,” Pansy beamed.  “And you trust him, and know that if anything did happen, it would be completely consensual.”

“Sometimes,” Gruoch said dryly, “you are too old for your age.”

Pansy’s smile dropped a little.  “You said it yourself, mum; death makes us grow up early.”

“You’re letting Harry help you with you flying, but you wouldn’t let me or your father?”

Pansy nodded slowly.  “He really wanted to help me, mum.  It meant so much to him that I couldn’t say no.”

“I thought that might happen,” Gruoch said smugly.  “And the thought of Harry holding you tightly on a broom never crossed your mind?”

Pansy blushed furiously.  “Mummm!,” she whispered intently.

Gruoch glanced at the room.  “They’re starting the laser surgery,” she commented, and smiled as Pansy immediately regained control and turned to face the boy she wanted to be her boyfriend.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was wheeled out of the surgery.

“His eyes will be bad for at least twenty-four hours,” the doctor informed them.  “He’ll need to use these eyes drops regularly, but he should be fine for your skiing trip.”

Gruoch clapped her hands together, and gave the surgeon her weakest possible handshake.  “Thank you.”

The doctor nodded, and Pansy took control of Harry’s wheelchair and moved him back to the entrance hall.  At the top of the steps, Pansy helped Harry stand, and wrapped her arms around his waist, guiding him straight to their car.

Gruoch sighed, careful not to drop her act.  They did make a very cute couple.

Back at the Parkinson Manor, Pansy helped Harry into his room, and sat him down in the chair.

“How are you feeling?”

Harry frowned a little.  “There’s hardly any pain.  It’s just strange - my eyesight is actually worse at the moment.”

“I think you should eat now, and then take the growth potion.”

Harry sighed slowly.  “I guess you’re right.”

“Scared?”

“Yeah.  It’s bad enough being blind as a bat, but the prospect of twenty-four hours of pain isn’t a good one.”

“I know,” Pansy said softly.  “But it’s short term effort for long term gain.”

Harry cracked a slight smile.  “You always manage to sum things up succinctly.”

“It’s a family trait,” she grinned.  “Dobby,” she called as she clicked her fingers.

“Is Harry Potter sir ready for lunch?”

“He is,” Pansy said.  “The eye surgery was a success.”

Dobby clapped his hands together and vanished, food appearing before them a few seconds later.

After Pansy had eaten a sandwich, and Harry had eaten another huge meal, Pansy stood.

“Come on,” she said, as she helped him stand.

“Where are we going?”

“My bedroom.  We can’t stay here; we’re going to jump back to yesterday with the potion, take it, and recover.  If we did it in here, we’d have four of us in the bed, and as there wasn’t four this morning, we didn’t do it here.”

“This time travel is going to give me a headache,” Harry complained.

Pansy grinned.  “True.  It gives a whole new meaning to cause and effect.  We’re doing something because we know we did it because we didn’t see the outcome of us not doing it.”

“Stop,” Harry laughed.  “Please.  Don’t make it worse.”

Inside her room, Pansy wound the Turner back for twenty-four hours, and released it.  Only the slight pull gave Harry a sense that it had worked, as the room was identical.

“Here,” she said gently.  “Lie down.”

Harry nodded, kicking off his shoes, and laying on her bed.  He noticed that it smelt of the same light, airy scent that he caught whenever she was near.  It was clean, and somehow pure to him.

She handed him the potion.  “Ready?”

Harry took a deep breath.  “Nope,” he said with a grin, saluted her with the goblet, and drained it in one go.  “That’s worse than Polyjuice,” he groaned, collapsing against the bed.

“And just when did you take Polyjuice?” Pansy asked.

“Second year,” Harry said, “Wanted to ask Draco a questio--“

The pain hit him like a Bludger, and he arched his back instinctively.  It felt like parts of his body was on fire.

“Gaaaahhhh,” he screamed under his breath.

Suddenly, he felt a cool hand on his forehead, and then a softer body holding him.  “I’m here,” he heard her whisper.  “I’m always here.”

“My angel,” he whispered, before a fresh wave of pain hit him again.

White Knight, Grey Queen

3 - Recovery

Pansy awoke slowly, and tried to stretch.  It was only then that she noticed that she hadn’t let Harry go during the night.  And more, that he obviously approved, as his arm was clamped firmly around her back, and he was holding her close.

She was lying on her side, her right leg over his, her head resting on his shoulder.  She breathed in deeply, and slowly smiled.  She could hear his heart beating through his chest, and feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took.  His heart sounded a little fast, and he groaned causing her to realise that he was still in pain.

She sighed softly, and relaxed back down.  It was obvious that he liked having her near, and that it was helping him in some small way, so there was no way she was going to move.

It didn’t take long for her to fall back asleep again.

The next time she awoke, she could feel that the potion must have worked its course.  To her regret Harry was now holding her loosely, and he was sleeping solidly.  It had been a rough night; the pain he’d been in had meant that it had been four a.m. before he had managed to finally fall asleep, and she had stayed up with him the entire time, offering what solace she could.

She was appalled at how well he had handled it.  No one should be that familiar with pain, that they could just grit their teeth and talk through it.  She’d cast a spell, despite his warnings not to, to let herself feel the same thing he was feeling.

As soon as it had hit, she’d dropped to the floor and burst into tears from the shock and the pain.  It had felt like Lightning was kicking her all over her body.  What had made it worse for her was the way Harry had immediately knocked the wand out of her hand, cancelling the spell, and then embraced her.

Despite the fact that he was feeling exactly the same thing she had felt for just an instant, he’d made some movement to get closer to her, so that he could offer her comfort.

Even though he didn’t know it, that moment had sealed his fate as far as she was concerned.  She was now quite definitely in love with Harry Potter.  She knew it because she realised that she would put him first, even above her own family.  It was scary and exhilarating all at once.  The place inside her that she had hidden for so long now belonged to a half-man/half-boy who didn’t even know it existed.

She drew hope from his actions; his instinct when asleep had been to pull her closer, to draw comfort from her, and not to push her away.  That meant that he quite definitely trusted her, and she knew that once he gave his trust, it was a permanent thing.  Even if he never returned her feelings, she would at least have his friendship for as long as she wanted it.

But would that be enough?  The feeling of devastation inside her as she contemplated it, made her realise that it wasn’t.  She wanted everything; she wanted the whole fairy tale.  She’d been raised as a princess and now her prince had come, riding one of her own black stallions.

He had beautiful green eyes that looked at the world differently from everyone and everything else.  He saw the innocence and beauty in everything around him but recognised the evilness as well.  If the eyes were truly a window to the soul, then he definitely had the most amazing soul she had ever seen.

She shifted slightly, so she could watch him as he slept.  She couldn’t help but compare him to Draco.  In a way, the two were similar.  They were both the last heirs of ancient families.  But where Draco had enjoyed all the breaks, Harry had been used and abused.

Where Draco had led a life of luxury, Harry had been forced to live in squalor, serving filthy Muggles breakfast.  Where Draco had been given anything he had ever wanted, Harry had been forced to fight for everything he had ever received, no matter how small.

Draco had cowered when Hermione, a girl smaller than he was, had hit him, whereas Harry had stood up to Voldemort himself.  Draco hid from his fears, behind his father and his name, while Harry, having no one, had chosen to stand, and had chosen to fight, not just for himself, but for those unable to stand up and defend themselves as well.

It was often said that a person’s childhood shaped the rest of their life, but if that was the case, then Draco should be the brave, strong one, and Harry should be bitter, twisted and afraid.  She no longer believed that.  People made their own choices in life and took the route that suited themselves.

She knew that if the roles had been reversed, and Harry had been raised in privilege and favour, he would still be the same.  He would not have let it go to his head; he would still be the same brave Gryffindor with some Slytherin traits.

And he’d quite definitely still have the same unruly hair.  She wondered how it would look if she put some hair gel in it.  Like with cosmetics, wizards avoided Muggle grooming aids as well, but there was no reason why they wouldn’t work.

She felt a little pride as she realised that she was going to be the first person since Harry was a baby to see his eyes without the barrier of his glasses between them, and to know that she was going to be the very first person he saw properly.

She could feel her heart racing at the thought, and she suddenly felt nervous.  She knew that it was silly - that she would look the same to him as she had with his glasses.  She wished she could slide out of bed and fix her hair, change her clothes, do something - anything.

She felt him shift against her, as he stretched, then opened his eyes.  She watched as he tilted his head and looked straight at her.

“You are beautiful,” Harry said sleepily, his voice matter of fact, as if he was merely stating a fact that the whole world should agree with.

Pansy’s heart, which had been racing for nervousness, was now racing with pleasure, as she fought a blush.

“You can see properly?”

Harry nodded and smiled at her.  “For the first time I can remember, my eyes focused as soon as I opened my eyes.  No more glasses.  It’s amazing.”

“How do you feel?”

“Sore,” he admitted.  “Thank you for helping me so much last night.”

“Oh, Harry,” she whispered.  “It was my pleasure.”

Harry took a deep breath, and then frowned.  “I think I need a shower, I must have sweated badly last night.”

“You’re fine,” Pansy said.  He didn’t smell bad at all; sure, his natural scent was a little stronger than normal, but it was something she liked.

He smiled at her. “Thanks, but when I can smell myself, I know that it’s definitely shower time.  And I never thought I’d say this after everything I ate yesterday, but I’m hungry.”

Pansy laughed, calmly rolling off him.  She deliberately didn’t make a fuss about it, because she hoped that she could get a repeat when they next went to sleep.

She watched as Harry swung his feet out of bed, stood, took a step forward, tripped, and fell to his knees.

“Harry!?  Are you all right?”

He turned and looked at her on the bed, and started to laugh.  “I think the potion worked,” he said dryly.  “I don’t remember the floor being that far away.”  He carefully placed a hand on the back of a chair, and lifted himself up.

Pansy stood and walked over to him.  “I think you’ve grown about four inches,” she informed him with a smile.  “Which would put you at around five foot ten.”  For the first time, she had to look up to see him, as she was five foot eight.

Harry smiled at her.  “Cool.  No more being house-elf sized then.”  He turned, and walked through his room, and into his bathroom.

Pansy watched him go, a smile on her face, till she saw his ankles peering out from the bottom of his trousers, and she realised that all his clothes would no longer fit.  She turned, opened the door, and yelled, “Mum!”

Gruoch appeared half a minute later.  “You rang?”

“Dad’s right,” Pansy told her, a smile on her face.  “Letting you watch Muggle TV was a bad idea.”

Gruoch waved her hand airily.  “What’s the emergency?”

“The potion worked, and now none of Harry’s clothes are going to fit!”

Pansy felt her mum staring at her intently and then slowly start to laugh.

“What?”

Gruoch reached out and pulled her into a hug.  “Oh Pansy, don’t ever change.”

“Huh?”

“Your father and I checked on you both several times last night; we know how much pain Harry was in, and how you handled it yourself without complaining or even thinking of asking for help.  But as soon as something as unimportant as Harry’s clothing not fitting comes up, you scream like a Banshee.”

Pansy started to blush.  “But...”

“I know,” Gruoch said calmly, as she walked over to Harry’s wardrobe.  “How much has he grown?”

“Four inches, two in the leg, and two in the torso.”

“Do I want to know how you can tell that so precisely?”

Pansy rolled her eyes at her mother.  “Yes.  It’s how much his jeans were short by when he walked into the shower this morning.”  She paused for a second, and then mumbled to herself. “I’ve got to stop us both sleeping in our clothes.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Gruoch said dryly.  “Get your wand; you can help me adjust his clothes.”

“Thanks Mum.”

“Peirce is due in around an hour to check Harry out, so you both have time for lunch.  Your father has informed me that Nymphadora is coming for dinner tonight.  She apparently figured out that we have Harry, but she isn’t planning on reporting it, as long as she can see for herself that Harry is alright.”

Pansy nodded.  “I think she’s going to be in for a shock when she sees him.”

“I think your father had that in mind, and I think that he thought that it would be funny.”

Pansy just laughed.

“Morning old boy,” Peirce said breezily.  “My, how you’ve grown.”

“If you try and pinch my cheek, I’m going to hit you,” Harry replied with a grin.

“Ooo, now that you’re bigger than a house-elf, you think that you’re intimidating, old son?”

Harry frowned and glared at the doctor.

“Which, without those glasses, you actually are,” Peirce said, and was relieved when Harry grinned at him.  “Powerful eyes you have there, Mr Potter.  Now, let’s see what good the potion has done.  Stand up, and take your top off.”

Harry did as he was told, removing the black t-shirt.

“Perfect,” Peirce judged after a few spells.  “You’re not fully grown yet; you should top out at about six feet in a year or so, which is natural.  Congratulations, old boy, you are now normal.”

“Thank you,” Harry smiled.

“And the rest of your growth won’t feel like you’ve been hit in the balls with a cricket bat.”

Harry laughed with a short, sharp bark.

“Anyway, let me check your eyesight as well.  I get paid the same either way, but I may as well do a thorough check.  Good for my reputation, don’t you know?”

He cast a few more spells, and then stood back, looking pleased.  “Muggles are wonderfully inventive.  It’s probably because of their non-magical heritage.  Where we tend to rely on magic for everything, they have developed their own ways of doing similar things.  I give them another twenty years, till they can do everything we do.

“But you’re not interested in the mumblings of an old man, are you sport?”

“Actually,” Harry murmured, “I tend to agree.  Our society is a little too insular, and we tend to dismiss everything Muggles do as unworthy, simply because it’s not magic.  We don’t seem to realise that for the average Muggle, things like electricity, computers, and airplanes are magic.  And as for fighting, Muggles have us completely out done.  We have the Avada, and other curses, that affect one wizard at a time; they have machine guns that can kill many people multiple times in a very short time span.”

“Indeed,” the doctor noted.  “Okay, your eyesight is perfect now.  Malcom has said that he is going to be organising a physical trainer for you.  So you’ll soon have some decent muscles on that torso of yours.  You’ll probably be hungry for another day or so, so don’t worry about it.  Growing like you did is painful, and took a lot of energy, which your body needs to replenish.”

“Thank you.”

Peirce nodded and walked out of the study, leaving Harry to get dressed again.

“So?” Malcom queried.

“Everything went perfectly.  He’ll be hungry for another day or so, and needs a lot of exercise, but in general, it couldn’t have gone better.”

“Thank you,” Pansy murmured, and gave the doctor a kiss on the cheek.

“It was my pleasure, my dear,” Peirce said, looking amused.

“How are you feeling, Harry?”

“Tall,” Harry replied with a grin.  “Not something I’m used to.  I’m still walking into things and tripping on the stairs.”

“You’ll get used to it quickly enough.  Did Pansy tell you that Nymphadora is coming for dinner?”

“Tonks?”

“Yes.  I always knew she was more intelligent than her clumsy exterior portrayed.  She worked out that it was us that had taken you.  She’s promised not to tell Dumbledore though, as long as she can see for herself that you are alright.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully.  “Isn’t she going to be a little surprised that I’ve don’t need glasses anymore, and that I’ve had a bit of a growth spurt?”

Malcom grinned.  “I certainly hope so.”

“So you’d like me to be out of sight when she arrives, so I can surprise her a bit more?”

“Why Harry, is that some Slytherin features I’m seeing?”

“Nothing wrong with Slytherins,” Harry replied absently.  “Sometimes you find the best people in that house.”

Malcom smiled wildly.  “You do, indeed, Harry.  You do, indeed.”

There was a loud knock that reverberated through the air.  “That’s the front door,” Malcom said, “which should mean that Nymphy is here.”

“Nymphy?”

Malcom paused.  “I forgot you didn’t grow up as a pureblood, Harry.  You know that all the pureblood families are interconnected?”

Harry nodded.

“Well, to save time when growing up, we tend to let all the children call us Uncle and Aunt.  As in some way, we probably are.  When she was younger, Nymphy didn’t mind her name; it was only when she hit puberty, and came into her abilities, that she didn’t like the connotation.  She only lets a few of us call her anything other than Tonks.”

“Pity,” Harry grinned.  “That won’t stop me from using it to tease her, though.”

Malcom laughed.  “I’ll go meet her, Gruoch and Pansy are probably already there.”

Harry watched as the older man walked down the stairs, and looked at himself in a mirror.

“You look fine, dear,” the mirror said approvingly.

“Would be better if I could get my hair under control,” Harry told it.

The mirror sniffed.  “Control isn’t necessarily a good thing.”

Harry shook his head bemusedly and walked downstairs, and into the formal dining room.  Almost as he had expected, Malcom was facing him, talking to Tonks and Gruoch, ensuring that Tonks had her back to him.  Pansy was to one side, an amused expression on her face.

“Wotcher, Tonks,” Harry said loudly, after sneaking up on the Metamorphmagus.

Tonks spun, reaching for her wand automatically, only to stop as she stared directly into Harry’s chin.

“Harry?” she asked, tilting her head backwards.

“Yes?” Harry answered calmly.

“Didn’t you used to be shorter?”

“Growth spurt,” he explained.

“And didn’t you used to wear glasses?”

“Lasik Surgery.”

Tonks pulled out a chair and slumped down heavily.  “Damn Harry.  You’re going to have to borrow a Beater’s bat.”

“Huh?” Harry asked, ineloquently.

“Your fan club is going to go wild when they see you like this.  You’ll need some bodyguards to keep them off you.”

“I’ll be taking care of that,” Pansy said calmly from the sidelines.

Harry looked as confused as he felt.  “What exactly are you talking about?”

“Oh nothing,” Tonks smiled.  “I should have known that you’d be taken care of here.”

Harry nodded, and walked around the table, taking a seat directly opposite the Auror.

“So,” he started, watching her closely.  “Why are you here?”

“After talking to the Dursleys, I had to make sure you were alright.”

“And why are you here alone, and not raiding this place to save me from the horrors of truth and honesty?”

“I disagreed with Albus about sending you the Portkey; I felt that anywhere you were, would be better than you being at the Dursley’s.  And that maybe we should trust your judgement.  You’ve not done badly by yourself up to now”

“So what are you going to do, now?”  Harry asked, as he felt Pansy take a seat beside him, and saw out of the corner of his eyes Malcom and Gruoch sit at the head and foot of the table.

“About what?” Tonks asked.

“Knowing my location.”

“Nothing, I guess,” she sighed.  “You’re obviously doing a lot better than I thought.”

Harry looked closely at the Auror in front of him; he could sense that she wasn’t happy about something, but wasn’t sure if he could read her properly, as he wasn’t really seeing her in her normal shape.  “What do you look like, when you aren’t using your powers?”

Tonks looked surprised, and then seemed to change slowly.  Her hair turned a dark brown, her eyes chestnut.  Her face shifted slightly, her nose enlarging a little, her lips shrinking.  “Like this, why?”

Harry smiled at her, and then took a deep breath and concentrated straight at her.  It was something he had seen Dumbledore do when he wanted to tell if a person was telling the truth or not, and he was pretty sure he could do it as well.

“What do you feel about Dumbledore at the moment?” he asked her.

Tonks fidgeted, and tried to look away, but she couldn’t seem to manage it.

“I don’t know,” she said.  “I don’t understand why he didn’t check up on you when you were growing up.  Or why he always tries to force you and Snape to work together.  The whole thing makes me uncomfortable.”

“Do you think that he will be able to defeat Voldemort?”

He watched as a Tonks started to sweat lightly, a thin bead appearing on her forehead, but he refused to look away - he kept staring at her, wanting to know the answer.

“I don’t know,” she blurted.  “Maybe.”

“According to a prophecy, I am the only person who can defeat Voldemort,” he said calmly.  “Dumbledore has known this all my life, but only saw fit to tell me at the end of school, last year.  I’ve been kept in the dark one too many times by him, and I am not going to take it any more.  Malcom, Gruoch, and Pansy have offered me their support, their facilities, and their expertise to help train me so that when I face Voldemort, I have a chance of winning.  In less than a week, they’ve arranged for my eyes to be fixed, and the problems the Dursleys have caused to be solved as well.

“Through each and every step, they have been totally upfront and honest with me.  They have told me what they expect from me, what they are offering, and what they want in return.  The price is one that I am more than happy to pay.

“But we can’t do this alone, Tonks.  We are going to need help.  We need people like you, people who can think for themselves and are willing to stand up to Voldemort.  Join us; help us form a third organisation, one that is intent on clearing up this mess once and for all, as soon as is possible.  One that doesn’t have the prejudices of old, one that will have the Goblins and house-elves working with us from the start, one that has access to the Acromantulas and the Centaurs, to the Giants and the Werewolves.

“A group that is going to take the fight to Voldemort, and not stop till his snake-ness is enjoying an eternity of pain and suffering in the next life.”

Tonks looked at him with an indecipherable expression on her face; her eyes were darting all over his face, searching him.  He mentally tried to lower his shields, so she could see whatever it was she was looking for.

“You’re asking me to leave Dumbledore, and the Order, and join a fifteen year old and a family that most wizards consider dark?”

“Yes.”

“Can you really do everything you said?”

“Yes.”

Tonks slowly lowered her head, and placed it in her hands, finally breaking his contact with her.  “I might regret this later, but yes.  I’ll join you.”

“Excellent,” Malcom said, interrupting smoothly.  “Good to have you aboard, Nymphy.  Now, let’s eat.”

After dinner, Malcom and Gruoch sat on a small couch together, Pansy sat on another alone, Tonks in an armchair.  There was another armchair available, and the space next to Pansy.

Tonks watched closely as Harry entered the room last and immediately sat straight next to Pansy.  He didn’t even look at the other places.  Pansy shot him a smile, one he returned naturally.

Over dinner, Malcom and Harry had explained what had happened so far, and how Pansy had been the one to save Harry’s life, pushing them forward into this new venture.  Having seen the two of them together, she now felt a little sorry for Ginny.  It looked like the two were on the verge of a relationship.  She could see that Pansy was clearly nuts about Harry, and that he was starting to think of her as something more than just a friend.

When it came down to it, she didn’t really owe Ginny any loyalty; she had pledged her own to Harry, and could see that Pansy was a good influence in his life, showing him that a lot more existed in life than just surviving, and the horse riding was a good example of that.

Tonks decided that the best thing she could do was stay out of it completely.  If Ginny wanted to tell Harry in a letter that she was single, then that was her own prerogative.

As she listened to the family banter around her, she thought back to earlier in the night when she had pledged her loyalty to him and to him alone.  She’d never felt quite so open as when he had stared at her, and his eyes, unencumbered by glasses, had shined directly into her soul.  She had felt vulnerable, and completely unable to lie.  It was disturbingly similar to how Dumbledore could look at you at times, only more raw and powerful, as if he was driven to act in a hurry, and didn’t have the patience that experience brought.

“Harry,” she said, in the next gap in the conversation.  “You mentioned Acromantulas; how do you know about them?”

“Oh,” Harry replied casually.  “I met Aragog a few years ago, and he owes me a favour for killing the Basilisk.”

There was a sort of stunned silence in the room, as everyone blinked at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” Malcom said slowly.  “Did you just say that you’ve actually met the Alpha Acromantula, and that he owes you a favour for killing a Basilisk?”

Harry smiled faintly, “It was in my second year.  Voldemort had taken control of one of the students, and he was using her to control a Basilisk.  Ron and I met Aragog when we were investigating.  While normally he doesn’t eat humans because of Hagrid, he was going to eat us, but we were saved by Mr Weasley’s enchanted car.

“Anyway, we tracked the Basilisk down to the Chamber of Secrets, which as a Parseltongue, I had to open.  It ended up with me against a powerful diary spell of Tom Riddle, and the giant Basilisk.  I got a little lucky; Fawkes, Dumbledore’s Phoenix, helped me out, by scratching out the Basilisk’s eyes, and I managed to pull the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat that Fawkes had dropped near me, and then I killed it, and then used one of its fangs to stab the diary, breaking the spell.”

“Who’s Tom Riddle?”

Harry pulled out his wand, and wrote “Tom Marvolo Riddle,” in glowing letters.  He then rearranged them to say, “I Am Lord Voldemort.”

“It was quite a surprise to find out that Voldemort was a half-blood orphan.”

Tonks felt herself gaping at Harry again - as were the other people in the room.

“It’s really ironic,” Harry continued, seemingly unaware of the effect his words were having.  “That all these pureblood families are happily following a half-blood who hates everyone.”

“Ironic, indeed,” Malcom said, his eyes now gleaming.  “I wonder why this knowledge has been suppressed.  Voldemort would lose a lot of his supporters if this were common knowledge.  I’m not talking about his Death Eaters, but the ones in the Ministry who are quietly hoping for some form of revolution.”

Tonks agreed with him silently.  She really didn’t understand why Dumbledore had been so secretive; if he obviously knew all of these details, why hadn’t he told anyone?

“So the way I see it, Aragog now owes me a favour for killing his mortal enemy.  So even if they don’t join us, once I’ve talked to him, there’s no way at all he’ll join Voldemort.  And if we’re clever, and let him have the bodies of dead Death Eaters, he’ll probably join us, and serve as a clean up patrol.”

“That’s ruthless,” Tonks blurted, a little shocked.

“So was killing my parents, Cedric, and Sirius,” Harry replied calmly, as he turned to look directly at her.  “We’re not engaged in a tea party here, Tonks.  This is war, a war they have started, and a war that I am damn well going to end.”

“We, Harry,” Pansy corrected gently.  “A war we are going to end.”

Harry nodded, and shot her a very grateful smile.

“Absolutely right,” Malcom agreed.  “Talking about that, Nymphy, how would you feel about helping train Harry and Pansy?”

“And Pansy?” Tonks questioned, a little surprised.

“If you think I’m letting Harry stand alone, you’ve got another thing coming,” Pansy replied firmly.

Tonks noticed another look that Harry shot the girl, and decided that their relationship wouldn’t take that long to develop after all.

“How are you planning on getting them trained in the short time before school starts?” she asked.

“Time Turner,” Malcom replied absently.

“They’re restricted items,” Tonks replied in shock, half-standing, “I should arrest you for even having one.”

“Oh sit down, Tonks, and can the dramatics,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.  “You’re not going to arrest Malcom.  If Dumbledore can let Hermione use one so she can study extra classes, then Malcom can definitely use one to help me and Pansy train so that we can defeat the most fearsome Dark Lord ever.”

Tonks slumped down into the chair again.  She had no idea that Dumbledore had allowed Hermione to use a Time Turner, and to allow it for something as stupid as giving extra lessons was simply mind-boggling.  They were restricted items for a reason; you could change the past with them.  It brought even more doubt into her mind about Dumbledore and his motives.  You simply did not allow anyone under normal conditions to use one.

She sighed audibly.  “Harry, is there anything else I should know? Please tell me now, because I don’t think my heart can take any more surprises.”

Harry smiled slightly.  “Of course you can take more, Tonks. You’re a big strong Auror, remember?”

Tonks laughed, and relaxed down back into her chair.  “Yes, I’ll happily help train you both,” she said, after a second of thought.  “Who else have you got lined up?”

Malcom picked up a notepad from the nearest table, and flipped through it.

“Can I ask something that’s been bothering me all my life?” Tonks asked.

“Of course,” Malcom replied, still flipping through the pages.

“What’s with those notebooks of yours?  You always seem to have one on hand, but I never see you carrying them.”

Malcom smiled as he looked up.  “They are a wonderful present Gruoch gave me as a wedding gift.  There are ten of them; I leave them everywhere I go.  What ever I write in one appears in another, and they are endless.  They’re also charmed so that only I can read them.

“Okay, on a daily basis, we have Duelling, Muggle Martial Arts, Physical Fitness, Occlumency, and Weapons and Tactics. We have five separate rooms set up for each one.  Harry and Pansy will spend a day doing a course, and then use the Time Turner to repeat the day again, until they have done all five.  They will then use the Time Turner for a sixth day, and take a day off to go riding and have fun.”

Tonks blinked, “That’s a hell of an intensive schedule.”

Harry and Pansy both smiled together.

“It is,” Harry agreed.  “But it’s the only way to do it, and at least we are doing something, not sitting around waiting for the latest news from Voldemort and worrying.”

“I’ll help out with the Duelling,” Tonks said, after a seconds thought.  “Who do you have doing the training?”

“Croaker.”

Tonks coughed as some of the water she was drinking went down the wrong way.  “Croaker?” she gasped.

“Err, who’s Croaker?” Pansy asked.

“He’s an Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries.”

“How have you got him to help?” Tonks demanded.  “I don’t even know how to talk to him!”

Malcom smiled, “I did him a small favour a few years back.  He had a slight Muggle problem that he needed taking care of.  So he’s quite happy to pay me back.”

Tonks shook her head slowly. “Is there anyone you don’t know, Malcom?”

“It depends,” he said cheerfully.  “If they’re important, we know them.  If they’re very important, then they either owe us a favour, or we know something about them they would prefer us not to.  The Ministry is wonderfully corrupt, so it’s not been difficult to find out what we needed to know.”

“So that’s why there are suddenly rumours flying around that you’re paying attention at the Ministry again.”

“Indeed.”

Tonks shook her head slowly, and checked her watch.  “I’ve got to get going,” she said.  “There’s an Order meeting tonight.”

“You do realise that I expect you to spy for me?” Harry asked.

Tonks paused, and then smiled wryly.  “I’ll let you know what happens,” she promised.

“You did a good job with recruiting Tonks,” Malcom said, as he sat back down after seeing Tonks out.

“Thanks,” Harry said, a faint blush appearing on his face.

Pansy smiled warmly at him, “I’ve never seen you act like that before.”

“It’s something I’ve seen Dumbledore do,” he said.  “It’s not using Legilimens; it’s just letting your magic loose behind your eyes, and using it to really look at people - it’s kinda of like looking at auras.”

Pansy shook her head slowly, suddenly realising that Harry really had no idea how special he was.  That the sort of things he was talking about was so far beyond the ability of normal wizards that they weren’t even mentioned.  He talked about his magic as if it was a living thing inside him; where as most people had to really struggle to reach their magic and power it through their wands, he was talking about direct manipulation.

“And I figured that any help we could get would benefit us.  Tonks’ skills as a metamorphmagus are something that we will definitely need in our ranks.  When you combine that with her skills as an Auror, you have a very dangerous person, if used properly.”

Malcom looked at his watch, “Why don’t you two go to bed?  You’re going to have a very long day tomorrow.”

“Okay, Dad,” Pansy said, as she stood and stretched.

“Night.”

“What’s the matter?” Gruoch asked gently.

“I’ve just realised that Harry is going to take charge of this thing.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Well, no, not really.  I wanted him to be a figurehead, while I run things behind the scenes.  That’s not going to happen now; he just recruited Tonks quicker than I could have, and he’s obviously planning ahead for other events.”

“Ahhh,” Gruoch smiled.  “So your ego hurts?”

Malcom frowned at her.  “Thank you for the sympathy, honey.”

“You’re welcome.  But look at it from the other angle, would you be happier if you were running everything, and he was useless?  Would you be happy for Harry and Pansy to have a relationship?”

“I guess not,” Malcom admitted with a sigh.  “It’s just going to be strange giving progress reports to someone twenty years younger than me.”

“You’ve been top of the tree for a long time, and you still are.  You just have someone who’s destined to rise higher.  The pressures are all on him, not on you, so enjoy it.”

Malcom nodded.  “You’re right, I was ready to run away when we got into this situation, and he’s been willing to face it straight on.  How’s Pansy doing with getting him as a boyfriend?”

“She’s taking it slowly, but something changed last night.  I could see it in her eyes this morning.  He means more to her now, perhaps more than we do.”

“You do realise that if he changes her, we’ll end up as good guys, and we will have to stop some of our more illegal ventures?”

“Would that be so difficult?” Gruoch answered calmly.  “If we make more money as good guys, what’s the problem?  It’s just a different set of rules to play by.”

“It would be a challenge; in horse racing; they have a handicapping system, so that everyone’s on a level playing field.  If we’re being handicapped, the challenge will come from winning despite it.”

Gruoch smiled and leaned in to kiss him.  “See, there’s the man I married.”

Harry and Pansy sat at the breakfast table in Harry’s room, eating a hearty breakfast.  “So we’ll spend the first night in here, the second in my room, and the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth in the guest bedrooms.”

Harry nodded.  “I swear this thing is going to give me a headache.”

There was a knock at the door, and Harry and Pansy walked in.

“Strike that,” Harry mumbled, “It just has given me a headache.”

“Hey,” the new Pansy said cheerfully.  “Six days ago for us, future Harry and Pansy walked into the room, and gave this speech, so we’re doing the same thing to you.”

“And yes,” new Harry said.  “It does give us a headache.”

“Anyway,” new Pansy continued.  “We had a chat with ourselves back then, so we’re going to have a chat with you guys now.  Pansy, if you want to come with me, and let the Harrys have a chat.”

Pansy nodded, and left Harry and Harry alone in his bedroom.

“Okay,” new Harry started.  “We need a chat, and this seems like the best way to do it.  I got some good advice from myself six days ago, so I’m passing it on.”

Harry winced.  “I don’t even want to think about that,” he groaned.

“Probably a good idea,” new Harry agreed.  “Anyway, we both know that when it comes to girls, we’re normally about as insightful as a brick.”

Harry nodded.

“So, I’m here to point out a few facts.  One: Pansy is as smart as we are.  Two: Pansy’s taken really good care of us.  Three: Pansy makes us laugh.  Four: Pansy isn’t scared of Voldemort, and as you’ll find out shortly, she can really fight - and by the way, we need to remember to bring her onboard to the D.A. as soon as is physically possible.  Finally, and I know we already noticed this, she is gorgeous.  So, everything we want in a girl is tied up in the brunette in the next room.”

“But does she even like me like that?” Harry asked.

New Harry laughed.  “Only I would ask a question like that.  Do you think it’s normal for a girl to sleep in the same bed as boy, like she has been?  Do you think a girl would do everything she has for us if she didn’t like us like that?”

Harry looked surprised.

“Exactly,” new Harry said.  “I was as surprised as you are when future Harry told me the same thing.  But then I thought about it, as you will, and realise that I, or he, was right.  All you have to do is not blow it.”

“How do I do that?”

“It’s simple really.  Take your time; don’t push at anything, but start touching her.  Let her touch you.  You’ll find that touching is good, and it makes us feel good.  And from there, just follow your instincts, and you’ll get it right.  Remember, she’s not Cho, so don’t expect tears.”

Harry nodded.  “I hope I’ll manage it.”

“You will,” new Harry grinned.  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Harry just groaned.  “Don’t do that!”

“So what do you want?” Pansy asked new Pansy.

“Two things really,” new Pansy replied, sitting on Pansy’s bed.  “First, don’t lose hope.  Harry is going to start noticing that you’re a girl very shortly.  I think he’s in there now giving himself some encouragement, and you’ll end up happy.”

Pansy smiled radiantly.

“Wow,” new Pansy said.  “We are really pretty when we smile like that.  We should do it more often.”

“Harry makes us smile,” Pansy said happily.  “What was the other thing?”

“Oh yeah.  You’re going to be duelling together at the end of today, as a practice duel.  He’s going to throw a curse at your head; you’ll see a gap, make sure you go for his feet and trip him up.”

“Why?”

“The important thing is that you’ll beat him, and that won’t happen much.  The second thing,” she smiled wickedly, “well, you’ll just have to find out yourself.”

Pansy laughed.  “I like that look on my face, so I’ll do it.”

“Oh,” new Pansy finished.  “Don’t forget to come and give us this talk on your day off.”

“I am Croaker,” the wizard in front of them said.  He looked vaguely oriental, and there was a feeling of implacableness about him.  “I will be teaching you both to duel.  I will be showing you how to fight, and more importantly, how to win.  The techniques I will show you have been banned in formal duels, but why should Death Eaters have all the advantages?”

Harry and Pansy exchanged a nervous glance.

“First, we are going to duel each other so I can see what your skill level is.

“Miss Parkinson, you are first.  Attack me.”

Harry moved to one side and watched Pansy.  She was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a light brown t-shirt; she moved gracefully, pulling out her wand.  She shot a glance at her unmoving opponent, and then cast a couple of quick spells.

Less than three seconds later, she was flat on her back, her wand in Croaker’s hand.

Harry slowly ran through what had just happened.  Croaker had dodged the two curses, and pulled out his own wand.  He’s shot a curse directly at Pansy’s wand hand, causing her to drop her wand, and then summoned it.  He’d then cast a banishing charm straight at the girl.

“You’re next, Harry,” Croaker said, returning to his original position.

Harry nodded and walked over, offering his hand to Pansy.  He pulled her up, and winked at her.  He felt slightly pleased when she responded with a big smile.  Obviously, his own advice had been worthwhile.

He’d noticed that Croaker had only moved after Pansy had attacked him, so he decided not to attack first.

“When you’re ready,” Croaker said.

Harry nodded, and pulled his wand out, pointing it at the older man.  He stood stock still, and stared hard at Croaker, waiting for him to make his move.  His magic held firmly in check behind his eyes.

Croaker watched him back, not showing a hint of movement.

After another two minutes of staring at each other, Croaker broke the silence.  “Why aren’t you attacking me?”

“You responded to Pansy, and caught her unaware,” Harry said quietly, his concentration not wavering.  “There is no point in following a strategy that I know to have failed.”

“But you might have better luck with it,” Croaker countered.

“Maybe,” Harry agreed.  “But the duel has already lasted longer.  If this was a fight, my friends would have already shown up to help, and you would then be out numbered.”

“This isn’t a real fight; it’s a duel, for me to be able to see how well you are doing.”

“How well am I doing?” Harry asked calmly.

“Better than I expected,” Croaker admitted.  “But I still want you to attack me.”

Harry nodded.  “I guess I…” he started.  Then, without changing his expression, or even twitching, Harry cast Expelliarmus silently.

The unspeakable twisted violently at the last second, and shot a stunning curse at Harry.  Harry had already started to move, so it was easy for him to duck it.  He cast his own stunning curse back, taking a leaf out of Croaker’s book and aiming for his wand hand.

Croaker yanked his wand hand out of the way, and shot a series of curses back at Harry.

Harry cast a shield spell in front of himself, and started to concentrate on stopping the curses from hitting him.  He couldn’t find a way of attacking on his own, as his opponent started to throw a seemingly endless supply of curses at him.

As he recognised a curse, and realised it wasn’t that serious, Harry deliberately dropped his shield, took the curse, and fired an offensive spell back.

The unspeakable spun around as the curse hit him, but was back on balance a second later.  “Stop!” he ordered.

Harry did so, panting.

“Did you just deliberately let that curse through so you could get one back at me?”

Harry nodded.  “It was only a punch spell,” he explained, rubbing his shoulder where it had hit.  “You were trying to break my shield.”

Croaker nodded slowly.  “And you cast a silent spell to start with.”

Harry nodded again.  “You were watching me for any movement; I didn’t want to give you a chance.”

“Mr Potter,” Croaker said calmly.  “By the time these five weeks of training are over, I will make you into the best duellist on the planet.”

Harry blinked at him.  “Excuse me?”

“You already have the things that can’t be taught.  You learnt from Miss Parkinson’s defeat, you refused to be goaded into giving up your plan, and during the fight, you were willing to accept a curse to fire one back.”

“What about Pansy?”

“Miss Parkinson will benefit from my tutelage, but I’m afraid that she will not be able to keep up with you.”

“That’s okay,” Pansy said brightly.  “I’m not the one who has to kill Voldemort.  I’ve just got to make sure Harry’s back is covered.”

Croaker nodded slowly, a glimmer of respect appearing in his eyes, as he looked at Pansy.  “We’ll start with some balance work,” he said slowly.  “If you are off balance, you cannot fight; it’s that simple.”

Harry groaned, “I’m really sore,” he mumbled.

“Ready for one more?” Pansy asked.

“What!?”

“Come on,” Pansy said, bouncing on her feet.  “Croaker said to practice while he was gone.  Let’s go.”

Harry dragged himself to his feet.  “If we must.”

“Ready?” Pansy asked.

“Yes,” Harry replied, pulling his own wand out.

Pansy showed the benefits of a day’s tutelage under one of the best the Ministry had immediately by jumping to the side, rolling cleanly into an attack stance, and without pausing, launching two curses at Harry.

Harry ducked and twisted, barely keeping his balance, and let loose a few curses at Pansy back.

Pansy watched him closely - Croaker had worked Harry a lot harder than he had worked her, and she could see the tiredness in his eyes.  Normally, she wouldn’t have pushed him, but her future self had been positive it was a good idea.

As she watched, she saw that Harry was a little off balance as he launched a cutting curse directly at her.  It was one of the things she appreciated about him; he’d not gone for any sexist stuff about not hitting a girl.  He’d merely pointed out that Death Eaters didn’t care, and he didn’t want her hurt just because he hadn’t practiced enough with her.

She threw her own curse directly at Harry’s feet, and bounced when he fell flat on his back.  “I win!” she crowed happily, dancing over to him.

“Remember what Croaker said?” Harry asked with a grin.

“What?”

Harry moved fast, his legs kicking out and sliding her legs off the ground.  As she fell, he rolled, caught her on his chest, and rolled her over, pinning her to the floor.

This must have been what her future self had smiled so happily about.  Harry Potter was lying directly on top of her, between her legs, resting his entire weight on her.  It felt wonderful, and completely right, and brought to mind all sorts of interesting things that could be done if there was less clothing involved.

“That an opponent isn’t defeated just because he’s on the floor,” he whispered intently.

“I’ll remember that,” Pansy whispered, a little surprised at the huskiness she could hear in her own voice.

Harry reached up slowly, and gently brushed some of her hair back from her cheek.  He smiled warmly at her, and then jumped up, offering her his hand.

She sighed silently, but realised that Harry just wasn’t the sort of person to make rapid movements.  That would have been the perfect time for a kiss, but at least he had touched her face, and the look in his eyes had promised more at a later date.

She took his hand, and smiled as he hauled her up.  “Let’s go eat, Harry,” she said calmly.

“And then shower and sleep?”

“Absolutely,” Pansy yawned.

For the second time through the first day - they’d used the Time-Turner to repeat the same day in another part of Parkinson Manor - their training was in Martial Arts.  It was something that had fascinated Harry growing up, as he had seen a few examples of what looked like the most graceful thing he’d ever seen on TV.

Their instructor was a small woman, who looked around thirty and appeared to be completely harmless.  Only her aura was completely solid white, as if everything about her was firmly under control.  That had given Harry enough warning to let himself go limp, as his invited attack had been subverted, and he had ended up flying through the air, to land flat on his back.

After the inauspicious start, she had helped him up, and started with the absolute basics: how to fall.

“The earliest and most primal fear we have is falling, even though most people have many opportunities to fall and realise that they can survive.  Activities like floo travelling, broom flying, and floating spells provide plenty of opportunities to fall, but don’t actually deal with the fear of falling.

“Fear is simple - its False Evidence Appearing Real.  In general, fear is an unrealistic expectation of a negative and painful outcome.  It is normally self-perpetuating and difficult to change, but we all know that the way to overcome fear is to face it head on.

“We are going to start simple, and slowly build up your confidence.”  Their instructor moved, so that she was standing on a mat. “All I want you to do is crouch down, and fall on to your back.”

Harry and Pansy moved, and let themselves fall backwards, and then smiled at each other.  They were soon taught some more advanced techniques, including how to roll out of a fall - something that Pansy was much better at than Harry.

The third time around, Occlumency lessons, was easier on their bodies, yet harder on their minds.  Maggie had rearranged her schedule to be able to help train the two children, and started to build their mental ability, concentrating on their defences first, and then teaching them to attack properly.  She was very careful to instill the rules of engagement deeply in them.

The fourth time through day one was in a way the hardest, because there was no magic involved - it was pure unadulterated work, as a Navy Marine started work on their fitness.  Harry remarked that he was quite definitely a sadist - a comment that got him an extra twenty push-ups.

The Marine pushed them as hard as was possible, and while he didn’t show it, he was extremely pleased with the dedication both of them showed, as they bounced off each other for competition.

The fifth day, a non-descript gentleman who didn’t give his name taught Weapons and Tactics.  He talked very softly, and explained everything only once, and expected them to keep up.

After finishing the fifth day, they were both looking forward to a day off; they were tired physically and mentally, but both realised how cleverly their schedule had been arranged. Malcom had made sure that they had enough time for their bodies to rest between the physical activities.

Pansy stretched her right arm, groaning as her muscles stretched.

“Come here,” Harry said lightly, moving to the bed.

“Hmm?” Pansy asked, yawning a little.

“Sit.”

Pansy sat on the edge of the bed, too tired to complain.  She closed her eyes, and then opened them fast as she felt Harry kneel behind her and place his hands on her shoulders.

“Paddy said this might come in useful,” he whispered, referring to their physical fitness instructor.

Pansy felt his thumbs dig into the tight muscles around her neck, and move in a slow circular motion.  She groaned loudly, “Please don’t stop.”

“Want more?” he asked quietly.

Pansy could only nod.

She felt his hands slide down her side, and grasp the bottom of her t-shirt, and she felt her heart beat a little faster.  She lifted her arms, and let him remove her garment.  She was wearing a sports bra underneath, something he had seen her work out in.

“Lie down,” he said, moving away from her.

Pansy turned, and crawled up the bed slowly, deliberately swaying a little, while she watched him out of the corner of her eye.  She collapsed down and smiled to herself.  He had obviously enjoyed the way she had moved, and she realised she had been right; he was definitely taking things slowly forward.  He’d been a lot more comfortable around her, giving her small hugs, and lightly touching her hair all week.  She now knew it was only a matter of time before they got together, and she was enjoying his attempted slow seduction.

There was no pushiness on his part, no arrogance, no feeling that he felt entitled to her or her body, just a slow increase in contact, each one accompanied by a tentative glance or look.

She felt him move over her, sitting on his heels, and slowly his hands started to press into her muscles again, easing the tension.

The fact that he had magic hands as well was a bonus she had never expected.  He touched firmly, without a hint of shyness, exploring her back, and it took all of her willpower not to roll over and let his hands work on her front, and add a few kisses as well.

But the more he worked, the more relaxed she felt, and thoughts about kissing, and other fun things, vanished, as she found herself falling asleep.

When she awoke, she found herself draped over him again.  Her shoes and socks had been removed, and once more, she felt at ease.  She also had a complete lack of soreness that was proof that he had continued to work on her while she had slept.

There were times when she couldn’t believe that he was human, that he could be so giving without asking for anything back.  It was almost as if he felt privileged that she was allowing him to help her.

She decided that she would have to do something nice for him on his birthday.  He’d obviously never been taken out, and she could take him to a nightclub.  Her father owned one in London, so they would be safe there, and despite being underage, they would have no problem getting in.  She could take him out to dinner beforehand, perhaps to the Ritz, and just try and show him how special he was to her.

The only problem she could see was that he probably couldn’t dance, and she could.  Still, they had their day off today.  It might be nice if they went for a picnic to one of the meadows, and she could teach him there.

With her decisions made, she softly touched his shoulder. “Harry,” she whispered.

“Hmm?” he asked, as he awoke.

“We need to get moving, we have to have that chat with ourselves in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” he yawned.  “How are you feeling?”

“Wonderful,” she said with a smile.  “What about you?”

“I had a long bath after you fell asleep,” he said.  “Felt a lot better after that.”

“Next time, I’m going to give you a massage.”

Harry smiled warmly at her.  “Sounds good.  Do you want to use the bathroom first?”

“Are you saying that I smell?” she grinned, well aware that she couldn’t smell that good.

“Not at all,” Harry said diplomatically.

She laughed and pushed him, using him to sit up.  “I’ll be quick,” she promised.  “After sleeping with me all night, I’ve probably made you stinky as well.”

Harry grinned at her, and reached up, lightly brushing her hair back.  “How can you look so good in the mornings?”

She smiled and lightly kissed his hand.  “Practice and good genes,” she grinned, and walked into the bathroom, feeling Harry’s gaze follow her.  As she closed the door, she did a little dance of pleasure.  Despite the hard work, and the slight fear about the future, she was happier now than she had ever been.

After their conversation with themselves, they moved to the stables, where they had encountered a slightly unexpected problem - Thunder was very wary of Harry, as he had grown several inches and was therefore only partially recognizable, and it was only after sniffing him repeatedly that the horse had allowed him onto his back.

Dobby had been delighted to make them a picnic.  The house-elf was in absolute heaven, creating eighteen different meals a day, for the two of them and their teacher was stretching him -  he had the entire house-elf staff organised and cooking all day.

After eating their lunch, Pansy stood and offered her hand to Harry.  “Come on.”

“What are we doing?” Harry asked, as he had been enjoying just lying in the grass staring at the clouds.

“I’m going to teach you how to dance.”

“Dance?” Harry said doubtfully.  He still remembered the disaster that had been the Yule Ball.

“Yes, moving to a beat,” she grinned at him.  “It’s something all wizards should know.”

“Okay,” Harry smiled, standing with her.  “So, what do I do?”

“We’re going to start with Ballroom Dancing,” Pansy, looking a little excited.  “Now, there are three standard rhythms used, slow, quick, and triple.  We’ll start with a slow.  Stand with your feet together.  Now, I want you to step to the left, and then bring your other foot next to your left, so that you’re in the same position.  That’s called a Side-Touch.  The touch is just the closing of your legs.”

“Okay,” Harry said, following the instructions precisely.

“See, it’s easy,” Pansy grinned.  “Now, I want you to step to the left again, touch, then step forward and touch, but do it as I clap my hands.  Ready?”

Harry nodded, smiling at her eagerness.  As she clapped in a slow steady rhythm, he followed her instructions to the letter.

“Again,” Pansy demanded.  “This time, relax a little.  You’re supposed to be having fun, not waiting to face Voldemort.”

“I’m scared of falling over and making a fool of myself.”

“Harry, there’s only the two of us around here for miles and miles.  You’ve been taught how to fall, so there’s no one to make a fool out of yourself in front of.”

“There’s you,” Harry said quietly.

He felt Pansy’s smile, as she reached out and lightly touched his cheek.  “You could never be a fool in my eyes, Harry,” she said softly.

He couldn’t help but smile at her; he tried again, this time deliberately trying to relax.

An hour later, Pansy used her wand to create some music.  “This is the standard Waltz, Harry; it’s one of the easiest dances to do.  Watch me first.”

Harry watched as she held up one hand, and twirled around on the grass.

“I know it looks complicated when I do it like this, but watch as I simplify.  One two three.  One two three.”  She took a step at each number, matching the beat in the music.  “Do you hear it, the beat in the music?”

“Yes,” Harry suddenly felt his mouth go dry, and he really wanted to hold her.

“Then come here,” she commanded.  “Never make a lady wait, Harry.”

He laughed and moved closer.

“Ok, put your right arm around my waist.”

He slid his arm around her, holding her loosely.

“I’m not made of glass, Harry; hold me tighter.”

Harry did, and pulled her closer, feeling her press along his body.

“Okay,” Pansy said, her voice a lot lower.  “Don’t look at your feet, look at me.  Now, like I just did, one two three.”

Harry nodded, and on the beat, he took a step forward, feeling Pansy move with him.  Keeping a steady pace, he continued to move, suddenly realising that he was actually dancing.  It might not be much, but he was quickly finding out just why it was so popular.  He had a beautiful girl in his arms, who was as light as a feather, and for the first time he felt graceful.

As the music ended, and they came to a slow halt, she smiled at him.  “And that is a waltz.”

He smiled back, and pulled her into a tight hug.  “Thank you.”

She just smiled brightly at him, and moved on to the next dance.

After they had returned Thunder and Lightning to the stables, and eaten dinner, Harry dragged Pansy out to the patio at the back of the house.

“Do we have to do this now?” Pansy asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Yes,” he said quietly.  “Don’t worry. I promise I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Pansy nodded, feeling her heart race.  The last time she had been on a broom she could still remember watching in slow motion as her cousin flew into the tree.  She could still hear the sound he made as he bounced off, and then the dreadful stillness as he lay still on the grass.

The sound of her own screams had haunted her dreams for years.

“Come here,” Harry called softly.  He was sitting on the side of her old broom like a bench.  It floated beneath him, under his absolute control.

She walked slowly.  Every step she took she wanted to turn and run, to leave, and to give into the fear that made her nauseous.

“Sit down,” he whispered, gently easing her down to sit on the broom like he was.

The feel of the comfort charm against her hips was familiar and scary at the same time.  It brought back good memories, but the bad eclipsed it.  She felt herself breathing harder, dragging huge lungful of air inside her.

“It’s okay,” Harry whispered softly.  “I’m here, and I’m not going to let you go.”

She reached out and grabbed his arm; even though they hadn’t even sat on the broom properly yet, she was still terrified.  “I don’t think I can do this,” she whispered, feeling the panic rise inside her.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice snapping across her panic like a whip.

She turned, and met his eyes, and found herself unable to look away.

“You are going to do this,” he ordered.  “You are too strong to let this beat you any more.”

Pansy saw that he truly believed what he said, and to him, her giving up wasn’t an option.  He felt that she had it in her to overcome it, and he wasn’t going to let her let herself down.  It was almost simple in his mind, and in a way it was.

“I’m scared.”

“There’s nothing wrong with fear,” he whispered intently.  “It tells us we are alive, but fear isn’t a positive emotion; it’s insidious and it plays with our minds.  It causes us to freeze when we need to move the most.  It makes us hesitate when we need to act.  Fear can instil needed caution, but it can be taken too far.  Your fear of flying has gone too far.  You are going to face your fear head on, and you are going to scream in its face.  You are going to tell it that you are stronger than that.

She felt almost hypnotised by his bright, green eyes, as if everything she wanted and needed could be found inside them.

He shifted, sitting on the broom properly. Slowly, he reached out, and pulled her closer to him.  “Slide your leg over the broom.”

She did as she was told, focusing all her senses on him, and him alone.  She used him as a way to beat the fear that was still fighting inside her.  She closed her eyes, so that she couldn’t see what was happening, and concentrated on the sound of his breathing, the smell of the shower gel he had recently used, and the feel of his body holding hers.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered, his breath brushing past her hair.

She slowly complied, and found herself staring at a bright half moon.  It was so clear, and it felt like she could reach out and touch it.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” he asked, “Sometimes my only peace has come on a broom - it’s here that I can feel myself.  No one wants or needs me; it’s just me and the night sky.”

Pansy looked down, and suddenly realised that they were a couple of hundred metres from the ground.  “Ahhh!” she screamed, suddenly tensing.

“Stop!” Harry commanded.  “Don’t move.”

Pansy froze, too scared to do anything else.

“Relax,” Harry crooned into her ear.  “You were doing fine till you realised that you were flying.  Think back, rediscover that feeling, that sense of peace that you had a few seconds ago.  Look at the moon again, look at how close it seems.”

Pansy nodded slowly, willing her breathing back to normal.

“I’ve got you,” Harry continued.  “I’m not going to let you go.  I’m here, with you.”

She nodded, she could feel his arms around her waist, and her back pressed firmly against his chest.

“Put your hands out to the side.”

Slowly, she moved her hands out, aware of how much they were shaking.  She clenched up as she felt him order the broom forward, and they started to fly, her eyes closing tightly.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered.

She wondered how he could tell that she had closed them, but opened them again, only to slam them back shut as she saw that they were moving.

“Come on, Pansy,” he whispered, almost drawling her name in a new way.  “Open your eyes, for me.  Eyes like yours should always be happy and content, they should shine for the world to admire, not be hidden by fear.

She opened her eyes again, and managed to keep them open as he flew them in a circle.  She screamed as he pushed them down into a lazy dive.

“Scream,” he told her.  “Scream your fear, scream your anger, and scream your guilt.  Shout it all out, get rid of it.  Tell the world you’re not scared any more.”

He tilted the broom, angling it further down, taking her into a steep dive - pulling up long before they got close to the ground.

As he flew them back up, her scream turned from fear into anger, and then into pleasure.  “I’m flying,” she yelled.  “I’m doing it.  You’re not beating me anymore!”

“That’s right,” Harry said, his voice sounding exhilarating.  “What happened is in the past, you’ve moved on from then.  This is my Pansy, this strong beautiful girl.”

She gasped, suddenly positive that he hadn’t meant to say that, and that he probably didn’t realise that he had.  He had called her his Pansy in a possessive tone.  Her fear was long gone now, and she was starting to enjoy the flying.  It had been obvious from watching him duel Draco at Quidditch that he was a superior flyer.  She hadn’t realised just how superior till she actually flew with him.  Complicated manoeuvres were executed with a casual ease she didn’t believe possible.  She had no idea how long they flew for, she just knew that when they finally landed, that she was exhausted.

She relaxed as she felt him pick her up, and carry her - something he simply would not have been able to do a few days ago.

She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, feeling strangely proud of herself.  She had flown again, and while it had taken Harry to help her, she had managed to overcome her fear on her own.

“Harry?” she heard her mother call.

“Yes?” Harry whispered, obviously trying not to wake her up.

“Thank you,” Gruoch said simply.

“It was my pleasure,” Harry said softly.  “She’s amazing, you know that, right?”

“I do, Harry,” Gruoch replied.  “Please look after her.  I know she wants to help you, but I still worry for her.  She is my only daughter, and one of my best friends.”

Pansy held her breath, waiting for Harry’s response.

“I promise,” he said simply, as if once having given his word, nothing else was needed.

And as he carried her upstairs, she was lulled into a genuine sleep; as she fell into her dreams, she was hit by a final thought.

For him, nothing else was needed.

“So why don’t you write Harry a letter?” Ron asked.

Ginny sighed.  “Dear Harry,” she said in a mocking voice.  “Hi, how are you?  By the way, I lied to you about dating Dean; please don’t fall in love with anyone else till I can see you.  Love, Ginny.”

Ron winced.  “I guess it’s not really the sort of thing you can say in a letter, is it?”

“No.”

“Look,” Hermione said calmly.  “We know that Harry is shy around girls - look how long it took him to approach Cho.  What are the chances that he will form a full relationship in the next five weeks?  Very small.  When we get back to Hogwarts, we’ll be able to sort this whole mess out, and we can all be happy.”

Ginny nodded and smiled.  “What Harry needs is a good snog.”

“Gin-n-n,” Ron protested.  “I might think that you and Harry belong together, but I still don’t want to hear that!”

Ginny laughed, and turned to face her brother.  “So you’re saying that I shouldn’t tell you that I know a great broom cupboard perfect for some experimentation.”

“No!” Ron said, closing his eyes tightly.  “But you can tell me where it is, you know, just in case.”

Ginny reached down and grabbed a pillow, throwing it at her brother.

“Hey, that’s Hedwig,” Hermione interrupted before the pillow fight could get serious.

Ron opened the window, and unwrapped the message from the owl’s leg.  Hedwig flew off immediately, vanishing into the night sky.

“Hey guys ,” Ron read out loud.

“Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written to you .”

“What does he mean by that?” Ginny asked.  “It’s only been a couple of days.”

“Shh,” Hermione said.  “Let Ron finish.”

“Things are going great here.  I’ve made quite a few new friends, who have actually been upfront with me from the start.  And I’ve had a bit of a growth spurt, too, not that I’m close to Ron because that would need some serious magic!

“It’s going to be strange at school next year, with Dean joining us.  But don’t worry Ginny; I’m sure he’ll fit in.  I’m really looking forward to it. I’ve got some great ideas for the D.A., and how we can take it forward and really improve.

“And before you ask, Hermione, yes, I have done all my homework, AND I’ve been practising Occlumency to make sure I’m ready for the year.  Voldemort is never going to catch me unaware again.  I know it’s working, because I’ve not had a single vision from him recently.  It means that I’m actually sleeping at night .

“While I’m in a confessional mood, I’ve accepted that Sirius is dead.  He died because I made a mistake.  It’s a mistake I will not be making again.  I promise each of you that I will not be running off in the future.  We are only as strong as each other, and when we stand together, we will win.  I guarantee it.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go; my hosts have arranged some extra classes for me, and they’re a lot of fun.

“Oh, and Ron, have you asked Hermione out yet?

“I miss you all.

“Harry.”

“Wow,” Hermione said softly.  “That’s the most open I’ve ever seen Harry be.”

Ginny sighed.  “Did you notice how he is automatically including Dean in everything?  He wants us all to be friends, and is willing to let someone else in for me.”

“I’m more concerned that he’s done his homework,” Ron said.  “Whoever he’s with is obviously a bad influence on him.”

“Haven’t you done yours?”

“Err, yeah, of course I have,” Ron said, looking shifty.

Hermione groaned.  “Ron, you are not leaving this room till you have done your homework!”

“Even potions?” Ron whined.

“Even potions!”  Hermione paused, and looked at Ginny.  “And what about you?”

“I’ll get my books,” Ginny sighed.  “And we should write back to Harry.  Oh, I had an idea, why don’t we tell him that as we can’t be together for his birthday, we’re going to postpone it and have a party at Hogwarts?”

“Good idea,” Ron said.  “We can smuggle some Butterbeer in, and have a welcome back to school party as well.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Hermione sighed.  “It is a good idea, though.”

“Ahh, my dear Cornelius,” Malcom said slowly, as he entered the Minister of Magic’s office.

“Malcom,” Fudge said shortly.

With an amused expression on his face, Malcom ignored the shortness and sat down comfortably on the couch to the side of the desk, effectively eliminating Fudge’s imposing desk from the conversation.

“So, what is this Werewolf Protection Bill that you are sponsoring at the moment?”

Fudge sat up in his chair, trying to look bigger than he was.  “Werewolves are dark creatures, and we need to protect innocent people from this dangerous menace.  The bill will require all Werewolves to sign a registry, and to wear a tracking bracelet at all times.  They will be banned from all public places, and from taking any jobs where they might come into contact with normal wizards.”

“Excellent,” Malcom enthused, clapping his hands together.  “And you memorised that on your own as well?  Well done.  It’s a fine piece of rhetoric from Lucius.  I must congratulate him the next time I see him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fudge spluttered.

“Please, Cornelius,” Malcom drawled.  “We both know that Voldemort wants it to look like the wizarding world is turning its back on Werewolves, so that they will join him.”

“Lucius has assured me that Voldemort has no wish to have the Werewolves join him,” Fudge said calmly.  “It’s for the best.”

“Tell me, how did a little toad like you end up the Minister?  We must have really dropped the ball when you were elected.  Oh well, no use crying over spilt milk.  I expect you to drop this stupid Bill immediately.”

“I will do no such thing,” Fudge shouted.   “Who do you think you are, coming in here and ordering me around?  I am the Minister of Magic.”

“Sit!” Malcom demanded coldly.  “The next time you raise your voice to me, I will have you removed from office within two hours.”

“You can’t do that,” Fudge said.

Malcom sneered at him, noticing that Fudge had lowered his voice.  “I’ve let Lucius have his fun in here for too long.  I’m taking back control of the Ministry.  You are either with me or against me, my dear Fudge.  If you are against me, then there is absolutely no reason for me to keep silent my knowledge of the two hundred thousand galleons you have misappropriated from different projects over the last ten years, is there?”

“You can’t prove it.”

“Of course I can.  Don’t ascribe your own stupidity to others.”

“I can’t cancel the Bill,” Fudge whined.  “Lucius will kill me.”

“It all comes down to fear, my dear fellow.  Who do you fear more?  Lucius, someone convicted of being a Death Eater, or me?  Just think, if you go with Lucius, you will be out of your job by this afternoon, your money seized as a Government asset.  How long do you think you will last then - when you are no longer of any use to him?”

“But...”

“Make your choice.  I can, and will, protect you from Lucius.”

Fudge seemed to melt into his chair.  “There is no choice,” he complained bitterly.

“Of course there is.  You can die, or you can live a little longer.”

“But Lucius...” Fudge tried again.

“You will send Lucius to me.”

“Good afternoon, Albus,” Arthur Weasley said pleasantly.

“Arthur,” Professor Dumbledore greeted the patriarch of the Weasley family.  “What can I do for you this fine afternoon?”

Arthur frowned, “I’ve been hearing some rumours that I thought you’d be interested in.  It appears that Malcom Parkinson has decided to pay attention at the Ministry again.  The whole place is abuzz with talk about him having a meeting with Fudge, and Fudge immediately cancelling a meeting with Lucius in the afternoon.”

“What is he playing at?” Albus wondered aloud.  Of all the things that Arthur might have contacted him about, this was someone near the bottom of his list.

“I’m afraid I have no idea,” Arthur said.  “I just wanted to pass on the rumour.”

“Thank you,” Albus said.  “Please keep me informed if you hear anything else.”

Arthur nodded and closed the floo connection.

“Problem?” Snape asked, as he entered the Headmaster’s office.

“Parkinson is back at the Ministry,” Albus replied slowly.  “I’m just wondering whose side he is on.”

“Today, you mean?”

“Hmm?”

“You mean what side Malcom is on today.  He changes loyalty faster than a Gryffindor faced with death.”

“Severus,” Albus chided gently.  “Have you heard anything?”

“Only that Lucius and Malcom had a falling out, and that Malcom is now on Voldemort’s list.”

Albus frowned, peering over his glasses.  “I’m surprised that he hasn’t run.”

“I think we all are.  Perhaps he’s going to fight against Voldemort.”

Albus shook his head slowly.  “Malcom and I have never seen eye to eye; I doubt he would even approach me, and I’m not sure that I would trust him.”

Snape shrugged.  “Perhaps he’s trying to make friends at the Ministry to save himself.”

Albus nodded.  “That would, indeed, make sense.”

“Anyway, I checked around, and as far as Voldemort is concerned, Harry is safe in his normal hiding place.”

Dumbledore nodded.  “And the Ministry?”

“Potter’s wand has not been used.”

“I think we need to take more direct action,” Dumbledore said thoughtfully.  “I am not convinced that Harry is safe where he is, no matter what Dobby says.  I shall send a tracking charm with an Owl, so that we will at least know the general area he is staying.”

Harry and Pansy were relaxing in his room; it was the first night of day two, and so this was their prescribed place for the evening.  They had arranged to meet Malcom and Gruoch on day one, before using the Time-Turner for them, or every evening for Pansy’s parents.

Harry frowned as an unfamiliar owl knocked on the window, “The alarms didn’t go off, so it can’t be a Portkey, can it?”

“Don’t think so,” Pansy said, “I wonder how, considering that we are in six different places at the moment, it can tell which you to bring it to.”

“Luck, probably,” Harry grinned, and opened the window.  “Dobby,” he called at the same time, about to ask the house-elf to clear the table.

Dobby arrived with a pop, took one look at the bird, and growled.  “Dobby told Dumbledore to not try and bring Harry Potter sir back.”

The elf dashed forwards, grabbed the bird, and disappeared with a pop.

“What was that!?” Pansy asked.

“I have no idea at all.”

They waited impatiently for Dobby to reappear. And a few minutes later, he did, a satisfied expression on his face.

“Dobby?” Harry asked, looking confused.

“Dumbledore put a tracking spell on the parchment,” Dobby explained.  “Dobby took the  owl and the parchment away from Harry Potter.”

“How did you know it had a spell?” Harry asked, curiously.

“Dobby can see magic, it was making the parchment glow.”

Harry dropped to his knees next to Dobby.  “You can see Magic?”

Dobby nodded eagerly.

“Can you teach me?”

“Wizards never ask house-elves to teach elf secrets.  Wizards always seem to think that Wizard magic is better than house-elf magic.  House-elf magic different,” Dobby said slowly.  “Dobby would be honoured to show Harry Potter sir how.  Dobby has always said that Harry Potter is different to all other wizards.”

“Thank you,” Harry smiled.

Dobby sat cross-legged in front of Harry.  “Dobby was taught by his Father when Dobby was a small elf.  Harry Potter needs to sit as well.”

Harry moved, sitting Indian fashion in front of the elf.

“Harry Potter sir has to find his magic.  Magic is alive, it lives in all beings.  Wizards and elves and other magical creatures are simply able to access it better than Muggles.  Magic is deep inside, it’s bright and shiny.”

Harry nodded; he was already familiar with his magic, from using it like Dumbledore did.  He pulled it behind his eyes, staring directly at Dobby.

Dobby clapped his hands happily.  “Well done, Harry Potter sir.  Now you need to look through magic.  Bring magic from behind your eyes, to in front of your eyes.”

The Boy-Who-Lived nodded slowly, and concentrated hard, imagining a small film of magic covering his eyes.

“Look,” Dobby whispered.  “Look around, and see the magic all around.”

Harry looked, and suddenly it seemed to fall in place for him.  Everywhere he looked he could see a faint hue of colour.

“Bright colour is powerful magic,” Dobby said.  “Look at Mistress Park’son.”

Harry turned to Pansy, and gasped.  She was glowing an unearthly white colour that highlighted her hair and fair complexion.  “She’s beautiful,” he said softly.

Dobby nodded, “Harry Potter sir’s friends are bright white as well.  Smallest Wheezy is the brightest.  She is very powerful, like Mistress.”  He snapped his fingers, creating a mirror.  “Now have a look at yourself.”

Harry did and reeled back, covering his eyes.

Dobby nodded.  “Harry Potter sir is a great and powerful wizard.  Only Dumbledore and Voldemort are as bright as you are, but Harry Potter is still young, you will be brightest of all.”

Harry blinked, removing the magic from his eyes.  “Thank you,” he said softly.  “You’ve helped me out again, Dobby.  I won’t forget.”

Dobby beamed happily.

“What did you do to the Owl?” Pansy asked softly.

Dobby looked positively gleeful.  “Dobby hid the owl deep in the Chamber of Secrets.  Dumbledore and Evil Snape will have lots of problems getting there.  Will take them a very long time.  When they do get there, Dobby left them a message.  ‘Leave Harry Potter alone!”

Harry and Pansy laughed.

A few days in normal time later, or nearly a month for Harry and Pansy, Pansy walked into her parent’s bedroom and sat on the bed.  “Mum?”

“Don’t tell me,” Gruoch said, as she sat at the dresser.  “You want to seduce Harry, and have decided that I need my last illusions about my only daughter ruined, so you’ve come to me for advice on how to do it?”

“Mum!” Pansy moaned, blushing furiously.

Gruoch laughed, and started applying her own makeup.

“It’s Harry’s sixteenth birthday next week, and I want to do something special for him.”

“What have you got in mind?”

“I want to take him to dinner at the Ritz, and then dancing at Daddy’s club.”

“You know that technically you’re too young to go to Embassy?”

Pansy shrugged.  “It’s something he’s never done, and I’ve even been teaching him to dance so that he’ll have fun.

“And it will allow me to seduce him afterwards.”

Gruoch dropped her blusher, and then desperately tried to catch it.

Pansy laughed delightedly.  “Turn about is fair play, mum.  You’ve got me to blush too many times recently.”

“Evil child.”

“I learnt from the best,” Pansy replied modestly.  “But seriously.  Harry is definitely falling for me, and he just needs a little push before he kisses me properly.  A night like that on his birthday will hopefully be enough.”

Gruoch sighed audibly.  “I’m sure there are many reasons why I should say ‘no’ here.”

“But you won’t,” Pansy cheered, and then rushed over and hugged Gruoch.  “Thanks, mum.”

Gruoch sighed again.  “Just be careful honey.”

“Don’t worry, I’m with Harry.  He won’t let anything happen to me.”

“I’ll arrange for a limo, and pre-pay for everything.”

“You’re the best!”

“I know.”

“That girl’s going to be the death of me yet,” Gruoch moaned.

“What’s Pansy done now?” Malcom asked, an amused look on his face.

“She persuaded me to allow her to take Harry to the Ritz for dinner, and then to the Embassy for the rest of the evening.”

“You’ll get me closed down,” Malcom sighed.  “Allowing under-age children into my nightclub.”

“Have you seen them recently?   I mean, really looked at them?”

Malcom had, but shook his head, curious as to his wife’s view on the two of them.

“They walk differently; they both prowl now, like they have boundless energy.  With Harry’s extra height, and the muscles he’s gained, he looks about as sixteen as I do.  And Pansy’s always looked older than she is.”

Malcom nodded slowly.  It would have been hard for him not to notice the change in his daughter and the boy he was becoming increasingly fond of.  The surprising thing for him, had been how willing people had been to help once they had spent a day with Harry and Pansy.  These were professionals, some of the best in the world, and they all responded to how much Harry and Pansy wanted to learn.

He had no illusions about his daughter.  She had always been ambitious, and had seized her chance with both hands.  He was very proud of her, but was very aware that she was doing it for Harry.  The changes in his daughter’s behaviour had been subtle, as she had changed some of her outlooks to be what she thought Harry would want and need.

It was a good thing, as far as he was concerned, as she had blossomed from a slightly spoilt, selfish young girl into the beginnings of the woman she was destined to become, and he found that he really liked her.

He had been a pretty poor parent when she had been growing up, always out, building the family fortune.  He hadn’t really noticed her till she had reached ten; and even then, all he had done was buy her a new horse or two.

When she had reached puberty, things had started to change.  The death of her cousin had made Gruoch sit him down, and tell him very firmly that his behaviour was no longer acceptable.  His daughter needed him, and it was time for him to make sure he was there for her.

That had been the start of their relationship, as they had over many sleepless nights slowly started to get to know each other, and he had realised that money, and Gruoch, which was all he had thought that he wanted, wasn’t enough.  He wanted his daughter’s love as well, and he had worked hard to earn it.  Like everything in his life, he was willing to put the effort in to get the reward.

He had still spoilt her, well aware that he was wrapped around her little finger, and quite comfortable with it.  And while he had teased her about marrying Draco, he’d been more than willing to jump at the opportunity to bury that little idea as soon as Gruoch had brought the issue up.

The idea of that little snot getting his hands on Pansy made him sick, and had actually been the start of the problems between him and Lucius.

Lucius had arrived in his office, and basically ordered him to hand his daughter over, so that Pansy and Draco could be engaged in a whirlwind of publicity - because that would have helped hide some of the things Voldemort wanted to do.

He’d told Lucius exactly where he could place that idea, and Lucius had retaliated by running to Voldemort about the Muggles he employed.  He was looking forward to seeing Lucius’ face when Pansy opened the doors to Malfoy Manor as a hotel.  He had every confidence in her ability to pull it off.

She still had his skill, and her mother’s intelligence, but now she had some Gryffindor caring as well, and that had completed the package.  It had turned her into a young woman that he was incredibly proud to call his daughter.

And then there was Harry, the boy who seemed born to lead.  The more time he spent around him, the more impressed he had become.  He’d heard from Pansy how Harry had learnt from Dobby how to see magic, and listened as Pansy explained how natural a magic user Harry really was.

What was amazing, was how modest Harry was.  Even with some of the best trainers in the world praising him, he thought of himself as nothing special, as just another person engaged in the fight to defeat Voldemort.

Croaker, a man who had very little respect for anyone, had only agreed to help because Malcom had arranged an airtight alibi for him when he had executed his sister’s abusive husband.  Croaker’s sister, who was a Muggle, was now seeing a nice accountant and had a happy home life. Croaker was now pushing Harry the hardest of all his trainers, convinced that the boy would be the best in the world by the time he had finished.

Tonks had arrived on the second day and had been asked to train Pansy, so that Harry and Croaker could go deeper into duelling, into levels not seen for many years.  Croaker had told him that he had to spend all night researching in the Unspeakable department to find new challenges and techniques for Harry.

When they met each night, for him at least, he had found it much easier than he had thought to report to him, and tell him what was going on in the outside world.  It was probably the direct way Harry had of looking at people that made him trustworthy.

“When you’ve quite finished,” Gruoch interrupted, looking very amused.

“Sorry, dear,” Malcom smiled apologetically.  “Lost in thought.”

“Pansy, Harry, dinner and dancing,” Gruoch prompted.

“Okay, we’ll let them go, but we’ll be at the club as well, watching through the cameras.  I want to see how Harry handles himself if a couple of Muggles decide to interfere.”

Gruoch raised her left eyebrow.  “Muggles you’ll pay to interfere?”

“Of course,” Malcom smiled.  “If Harry handles it well, then he’ll have passed my final test - that he can keep Pansy safe, and he’ll have my blessing.”

Gruoch laughed softly.  “Are you sure you’re not a Slytherin?”

“Do you know what day it is today?” Pansy asked, after they finished their Weapons and Tactics training.

“Wednesday?”

Pansy poked him in the arm.  “It’s your birthday, silly.”

“It is?” Harry asked, looking a little surprised.

“Yep.  Well, it’s been your birthday for the last five days, but as this time around is day five I can do something about it, as it’s our day off tomorrow.

“I’m taking you out to dinner, and then dancing in a club.  We’re going to have a very good time, and celebrate your birthday properly.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Harry protested.

“I know,” Pansy smiled.  “But I want to and I am going to get my way about this so it’ll be easier on both of us if you give in nicely right now.”

Harry laughed and held up his hands.  “Dancing does sound fun,” he admitted.  “And we could do with some proper time off.

“But shouldn’t I be asking you out on our first date?”

Pansy smiled slowly on him.  “A date?”

Harry nodded, suddenly looking nervous.  “I really like you,” he blurted.  “And I wanted to ask you out on date, and now you’ve brought this up, and well, it would be perfect.”

“I’d love to go on a date with you,” Pansy said happily.  “Now go and shower, Mum’s got some clothes for you to wear.”

Harry saluted, and wandered into the guest bathroom they were using for that night.

Pansy shook her head at him, and walked down to her parent’s bedroom.  If there was one thing she knew about her mother, it was that she had impeccable taste, and she had used it to select two outfits for Pansy to wear.

The first was a simple black cocktail dress, which probably cost as much as a small car.  It had a heart shaped area of a gauzy material that would hint at cleavage and cleverly hide the built in bra, leaving her shoulders completely bare.  The strap on heels next to it would add a couple of inches to her height and emphasise her legs, which she privately thought were her best features.

It would look classy and expensive - perfect for a romantic meal.

The second outfit was a skirt set.  The pleated dark brown skirt had a thick belt to be worn diagonally across her hips.  It fell to mid-thigh, and would bounce nicely when she was dancing.  The top was a tight light brown t-shirt, with Arabic letters in black, which would look a lot better as soon as she lost the bra her mother had so thoughtfully provided, she decided.

Pansy smiled happily, and dived into the bathroom, showering as quickly as she could.  She finished and walked back into her parent’s bedroom, wrapped in a towel.  “Mum?”

Gruoch smiled at her, a tinge of sadness in her eyes.  “You didn’t think I was going to let you do this on your own, did you?”

Pansy nodded, smiling slightly.

“Sit down, dear,” Gruoch said, pointing in front of her.  “I’ll do your hair.”

Pansy nodded and sat down, as her mother blow-dried her hair; she remembered the countless times she had done this growing up.  The talks they had shared and the nonsense they had laughed over.

“This isn’t the end, mum,” Pansy said softly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the hairdryer.

“It feels like it, in a small way,” Gruoch replied.

“I know it does, things are changing, but there are some things that will never change.  I’ll always be your daughter; I’ll always want you to do my hair, to tease me, to be my friend.”

“I know, love,” Gruoch said, “but after tonight, it won’t just be you anymore.  It will be you and Harry.  I’ve seen the looks you give him, the light in your eyes when you talk about him.  You’re serious about him, I know.”

“I am, mum.  I’m in love with him, and not ‘I love Lightning’ love, but full on, devastating, scary love.  I asked myself if I could handle just being his friend, and I nearly burst into tears.

“But it doesn’t matter.  You know that Harry adores you and dad, and he would never come between us.  It will be different, but things change, people grow, we grow.”

Gruoch finished with her hair, and hugged her gently.  “Thank you.”

“I love you, mum,” Pansy whispered, feeling a tear make her way down her cheek.  “We knew this day would come, but at least its Harry, not Draco.”

Gruoch laughed, and released her from the hug.  “I’m being silly; you’re only going out on your first date.  It’s just hard for me to watch the little girl with skinned knees turn into a devastating young woman, and go out with the man she has fallen in love with.

“And if you were like this for Draco, I’d be driving you to the nearest psychologist about now.”

Pansy laughed, and moved over to the dresser.

“Don’t put much makeup on,” Gruoch advised.  “You don’t need it.”

“Okay, mum.”

Harry stepped out of the shower, and walked into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Malcom?” he said, surprised to see the man there.

“Gruoch’s talking to Pansy, so I thought I’d give you some moral support,” he said.

“I didn’t know I needed it,” Harry replied, moving over to the dresser.

Malcom lounged back on the bed.  “Been on that many dates?”

Harry laughed.  “My last date, well, my only date, was a monumental disaster.  Horrible.  We ended up at Madame Puddifoot's - I was scared I’d sneeze and send the lace flying.”

“I remember it well,” Malcom grinned.  “I took Gruoch there once, trying to impress her.  We lasted around fifteen minutes before we snuck out and went for a Butterbeer.”

“I’m actually not nervous about tonight,” Harry said, absently rubbing his chin.

“Why not?  And why don’t you have a shave?”

“Because it’s Pansy, you know? And I don’t actually know how to shave.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me acting In Loco Parentis, I’ll happily show you.”

Harry smiled.  “Thanks.  It didn’t use to be a problem, but I guess fixing my height kick-started a few other things as well.”

“Grab your wand, and come into the bathroom.”

Harry nodded, and as Malcom walked into the bathroom, he quickly pulled a pair of boxer shorts and jeans on and padded after the older man.

“It’s always best to shave after you’ve been in the shower; it softens the hair, so that it’s easier to remove.

“Now, the spell you’re using is Tondeo .   Cast it, and then look in the mirror, and bring your wand down your cheek slowly.  Go with the grain of your skin to start with.”

Harry nodded and cast the spell.  Carefully, he dragged his wand down the side of his face, and smiled as he saw a smooth path appear on his cheek.

“Wash the hair off under the tap, and continue.  Do your cheeks first, then around your mouth and chin, and then your neck.  Take your time - if you go to fast you may end up slicing yourself, and Pansy would never forgive me if you went out there with your face cut to bits.”

Harry smiled.  “Thanks,” he said dryly.  “So, what was it like when you went out with Gruoch for the first time?”

“Bad,” Malcom groaned.  “To start with, your dad thought I was nuts even talking to a Slytherin.  And then he gave me all sorts of really bad advice about how to act.  Luckily, your mother was a lot more sensible.

“I was so nervous that I did cut myself shaving, and I had to get a friend to cast a healing spell to patch me up.  My best robes were a little threadbare, and when I tried to fix them, I ended up making it worse.

“James was in hysterics, until Remus reminded him how bad he had been about his first date with your mother, and he sobered up pretty quickly.  I think he suddenly realised that I did feel that way about Gruoch, and before I knew it, I was wearing your father’s robes.

“I felt so sick that I almost chickened out, and it was James who dragged me to the meeting point.  As soon as I saw her, I went into a daze.  She looked so amazing, and the rest of that day was a blur.  It can’t have been too bad, because she did marry me.”

Harry grinned, and finished shaving.  “I’m starting to worry that I’m not nervous now.”

“Wash your face, and then put some of that lotion on.  There is a difference, though; I didn’t really know Gruoch that well.  You’ve already spent over a month in Pansy’s company, if you count the time spent using the Time-Turner.  You already know her really well.”

Harry nodded.  “I do.”  He paused, and felt a blush forming on his cheeks.  “You know I care about her, a lot?  She’s wonderful.”

Malcom nodded.  “Have you tried using hair gel to get your hair under control?  And I had hoped.  You’re a fine young man, Harry.  And Pansy has quite definitely chosen you.”

“I still find that hard to believe,” Harry mumbled.  “I’m just me, but she’s beautiful, intelligent, caring, strong, and always seems to be looking after me.  And I’ve never had hair gel to try before.”

“I’ll get Gruoch to come in and fix your hair in a minute.  And I’ll think you’ll find that my daughter is an excellent judge of character, Harry.  And I will say that I approve of her taste.  That second bottle is some aftershave; splash a small bit in your hands, and then rub it into your face.  Be careful not to use too much.”

Harry nodded and yelped as his hands came into contact with his face.

“Stings, doesn’t it,” Malcom grinned.  “Now, get dressed, and I’ll show you how to wear a tie properly.”

Harry nodded and walked into the bedroom.  There was a suit laid out on the bed that was complete with underwear.

He used some deodorant first, and slid out of his jeans, vaguely amused by the fact that Malcom was waiting in the bathroom, giving him some privacy.  He changed his underwear, and blinked as the silk boxers slid over his skin.  His underwear tended to be more in the functional department.

He pulled on the white shirt next, careful not to crease it as he moved his arms into the sleeves, and did up the cuffs.  He quickly buttoned the shirt, leaving the top one undone.

He bent and quickly pulled on the black socks.  The black trousers were next, and they appeared to be tailor made for him - he’d never had a pair that fit so well. He tucked himself in, and did up the belt.

He picked up the long, strange looking tie, and walked back into the bathroom.

“Tying a bow tie is a little like tying your shoe laces,” Malcom said, looking amused.

“Pull it around your neck, under your collar, so that one end is slightly longer than the other and cross them.  Now, push the long end up under the cross.  Form an angle loop with the short end of the tie crossing left, and then drop the long end at the neck over the horizontal loop. Next, move the loose, long end to a similar angle and push this loop through the short loop. And tighten the knot by adjusting the ends of both loops.”

Harry tried to follow the instructions, but got confused half way through and ended up in a mess.

“Only Muggles would invent something so complicated,” Malcom grinned.  “I came prepared,” he said, as he pulled out another tie.  “Now, watch me, and duplicate.”

It took another three goes before Harry had a decent looking bow tie.

“Excellent,” Malcom praised.  “I’ll get Gruoch to fix your hair now.  And Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Look after my little girl.”

Harry nodded, well aware that Malcom had phrased it as an order, not a request.  He really appreciated the gesture that the older man had made.  But in a way, it made him a little sad, as he realised just how much he had lost out on by not having parents.

Malcom walked into his bedroom, and smiled at the sight of his wife and daughter.  “Time to swap,” he said cheerfully.  “You get to go and fix Harry’s hair.”

“Dad, what did you say to him?” Pansy asked, suddenly frowning.  “You didn’t scare him did you?”

“I might have mentioned that I’ll boil him in oil if he touches you,” Malcom replied solemnly.

“Dad!” Pansy yelled.

“Honey, he’s teasing you,” Gruoch interrupted.  “Aren’t you, dear?”

Malcom nodded, “I just asked him to look after you.”

Pansy sighed and looked relieved.  “Thanks, dad.  I was so surprised when he said he wanted this to be a date.  I don’t want him changing his mind now.”

“I’ll go and fix Harry’s hair,” Gruoch said, and walked out the door.

“You look amazing,” Malcom said softly.  “So grown up.  It’s only now, when your childhood has gone, that I realise how much I missed when you were growing up.”

Pansy walked over and hugged her father firmly.  “You made up for it, dad.  I forgave you a long time ago; don’t beat yourself up over it anymore, okay?”

“He’s a very special young man,” Malcom said.  “But you’re always going to be my princess.”

“I feel like Harry’s queen,” she replied softly, sitting down next to him.  “And that’s going to be the difference.  I’m still going to be your daughter; I’m just going to be something else for Harry.”

“You’ve become a very special young lady, and I’m proud to be your father.”

Gruoch walked into the guest bedroom, to find Harry pacing slowly around the room.

“Nervous?”

“I wasn’t.  I am, now,” he muttered.

“You’ll be fine.  Now sit so I can fix your hair.”

“You do know that we’ve tried all sorts of magic to fix it?”

Gruoch grinned.  “Which is why we’re not using magic, Harry.”  She walked over and grabbed a tub from the bathroom.  “I’m going to try and spike your hair up a little.”

“So you’re a hair dresser as well?”

“All mums are hair dressers; we spend so much time playing with our kids’ hair that it comes naturally.”  Gruoch lightly bit her bottom lip as she concentrated, using the hair gel to force his hair to behave.

“There,” she said proudly, as she finished.

“It still looks a mess though,” Harry said.

“It looks like it’s supposed to be a mess, rather than being a mess naturally - it makes all the difference,” Gruoch replied.  “Don’t worry, Pansy will love it.  Now, put on your jacket and let’s see what you look like.”

Harry shrugged and picked up the jacket, sliding it on smoothly.  He bent, and quickly put on his black leather shoes.

Gruoch smiled. “You look great, Harry.  Now, come on, we’ll wait for Pansy at the bottom of the stairs.  You’ve got to let her make a grand entrance.”

Harry nodded, and walked downstairs with her, and turned.  A few seconds later, Pansy appeared alone at the top of the stairs, and he felt his jaw open.

He’d seen her in her pyjamas, in shorts and a t-shirt, in riding wear, in a tracksuit and a sports bra, and pretty much everything in between, and he’d known that she was beautiful, and had even told her a time or two.

But it hadn’t prepared him for this.

His original thought, back from when she had appeared over his face when he was feverish, came back to him.

She was an angel.

“You look simply amazing,” he said softly, as he walked over to her.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling warmly at him.  “You’re not looking bad yourself.”

He grinned at her, and offered his arm.  “Ready?”

“Oh no, you don’t,” Malcom said firmly.  “Neither of you are leaving until we get some pictures!”

“Dad!” Pansy complained, but Harry had the feeling that it was more for forms sake than from any real feeling.  He didn’t mind at all, and wondered if he’d be able to persuade them to take a picture of Pansy on her own, so that he could have a copy.

It turned out that Malcom and Gruoch had more than enough poses in mind, and pictures were taken of each individually, of them together, of them hugging, and in the end, with the proud parents.

“Okay,” Malcom eventually called a halt.  “You two can go now.  Have a great time.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Pansy said, and took a firm hold of Harry, dragging him outside.

Harry looked surprised at the stretch limousine waiting for them.

“We’re going totally Muggle,” Pansy explained.  “I hope you’ve got your wand well hidden?”

“Constant Vigilance,” Harry grinned at her.  “It’s up my sleeve.”

He looked around curiously as he climbed in; he’d never realised just how spacious it was inside one of these things.

“Want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Pansy opened a small fridge, and laughed.  “Obviously Mum got here first,” she said.  “All we have is fruit juice, water and fizzy drinks.”

“Orange juice will do for me,” Harry said, lounging back on the wide seat.  “I can hardly tell we’re moving.”

Pansy nodded, and sat next to him, handing him a glass.  “I’ve only ridden in one of these twice.  Mum and Dad hire them all the time for Muggle parties.  I think they enjoy being chauffeured.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’ve got reservations at the Ritz for dinner, and then we’re going to the Embassy for the rest of the evening.”

Harry blinked, “The Ritz?”

Pansy turned to face him.  “I want to spoil you tonight,” she said calmly.  “I want to show you what you mean to me, and tonight is going to be the best birthday you have ever had!”

Harry reached out and gently touched his fingertips to her cheek.  “It already is,” he reassured her.  “We don’t need the Ritz for that.”

Pansy smiled at him, turning her face into his hand.  “I know we don’t, but we’re going to do it anyway.  Princess here, remember?”

He laughed, “You’re amazing.”

“I know,” Pansy said, her smile showing that she was teasing.

The limousine pulled up in front of the hotel, and the door was instantly opened for them.

Harry stepped out first, and offered his hand to Pansy.  She stepped out gracefully and walked with him, bypassing the famous revolving doors as one of the porters opened the side door for them.

“Thank you,” Pansy said, favouring him with a slight smile.

Harry was quite happy to follow her lead in this, he knew he was way out of his depth, but was enjoying it all the same.  He’d always wondered what it was like to be rich, and was quite willing to act it for an evening.

“Mr Potter, Miss Parkinson,” an impeccably dressed man greeted them warmly.  “Welcome to the Ritz, it is a delight to have you here.”

“Why, thank you,” Pansy said, her smile a little more genuine this time.

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you right to your table.”

As Harry walked down the luxurious corridor, he suddenly realised that he actually had a girlfriend now, and not one that made him slightly uncomfortable like Cho had.  Pansy was obviously proud to be with him, and her fingers were rubbing against his in a way that made him feel very wanted.

He remembered his manners, and managed to move in front of the concierge, to hold Pansy’s chair for her.  The smile she gave him was more than enough reward for the slight courtesy.

“I will get you your drinks, while you peruse the menu,” the concierge said smoothly, and walked away.

“We didn’t order a drink though,” Harry said, a little confused.

Pansy shrugged, “Probably mum’s doing.”

Harry nodded, and looked at the menu for a minute.  He closed it, and smiled.

“Chosen already?”

“Nope.  I’ve not got a clue what half of this stuff is,” he grinned.  “And as you’re the princess, I figured I’d let you choose for me.”

Pansy laughed, “Oh, Harry.  These menus are easy to read really, you’ve just got to avoid the fancy names.  Roast Sea scallops with Jerusalem artichokes, summer truffle and hazelnut oil for example, is basically small pieces of fish and some artichokes.”

“Right,” Harry said, picking up his menu again.

The concierge arrived back, holding a green bottle.  He discreetly placed a small card in front of Harry, and expertly removed the cork with a sharp pop.  He picked up two wide shallow glasses, and poured the champagne into both, “Alfonse will be your server this evening.  He will see to your every need, and if you do need anything, please feel free to call on me personally.”

“Thank you,” Harry said formally.

With a small half-bow, the Attendant vanished.

Harry picked up the note, and smiled. “Harry ,” he read out loud to Pansy.  “I may have forgotten to mention to the hotel that you are both only sixteen.  The champagne is on us, as is the rest of the evening, it is our present to you.  Happy Birthday, Harry.  Malcom and I are delighted that you have entered our lives, and we both look forward to celebrating many more birthdays with you in the future.  Love, Gruoch. ”

He smiled at Pansy, really touched by the sentiment in the letter.  He raised his glass to her, and paused while she raised hers, and they touched them together.  “To you,” he said with a smile.

“Oh no,” Pansy returned.  “To us, especially tonight, Harry.”

“To us,” he agreed.

The dinner was excellent.  While Dobby was an exceptionally good cook, the chef’s at the Ritz were some of the best in the world, and it showed.

Pansy started with Oak smoked wild salmon with lemon blinis and crème fraiche, while he had tried the Dublin Bay prawns, courgette flower and bitter almond sauce.  For the main course, he had the Tournedos of Aberdeen Angus Rossini, and Pansy had the Lamb noisettes, new season vegetables, and fennel scented juices.

They ended up sharing quite a bit, both wanting to experience the food as much as they could.

Pansy sipped on her champagne, unable to think of a time she had felt like this.  She was excited, happy, and yet relaxed at the same time.  There was a feeling of anticipation in the air, as if this whole evening was foreplay for the kiss that she hoped would come later.

The limo ride had been a lot of fun, as they had talked about everything and anything; it was as comfortable as when they had both gone horse riding for hours on end.

She had felt Harry tense a little when they had walked into the hotel, so she’d rubbed his fingers a little, trying to be supportive.  The sheer opulence of the hotel was a little overwhelming for her, so it must have been doubly so for him.  While he had kept his head down, she’d been eagerly watching people’s reaction to them.

There had been a slight pause in the conversation as they walked in.  She was very aware that they both looked good.  She’d felt weak at the knees when she’d seen him in his tuxedo for the first time; with his broad shoulders and slim hips, he looked like every fantasy of a prince she had experienced growing up.

She’d been touched as Harry managed to manoeuvre his way behind her, to seat her.  It was the little gestures that were so natural for him that she appreciated the most.

The look in his eyes, as he read the message from her mother, made her promise herself to give her mum the biggest hug of her life when she next saw her.  It had been the perfect touch to get Harry to relax and enjoy the evening, and he certainly seemed to do that.

The food had been wonderful once she’d teased him over his hesitancy with the menu, and the champagne was a perfect accompaniment.  Not that she was surprised; Gruoch would never order anything ordinary for them.

“Ready to go dancing?” she asked, as he finished the last glass.

The smile he shot her suddenly made her heat up.  It might have been the alcohol he had drunk, but his smile was lazily sexy, and it told her that he was quite looking forward to dancing with her.

She absently wondered if that had been part of her mother’s plan.

He stood, and walked behind her, pulling her chair back as she stood, and offered his arm.

She was very pleased to see the envious looks on the faces of some of the patrons.  She had a sexy, dark haired man with impeccable manners, broad shoulders, and a controlled grace when he moved, and they didn’t.

She smiled as they walked, allowing just a touch of her satisfaction to creep through.

“Mr Parkinson, Mrs Parkinson,” Michael Stout, the general manager of the Embassy said.  “It’s good to see you again.”

“Thank you,” Malcom replied.  “Is everything ready?”

“Yes sir.”

“Excellent, please bring a bottle of champagne to my office.”

“Of course, sir.”

Malcom nodded and led Gruoch up the stairs and into the main office.  There was a row of monitors along one of the walls, showing closed circuit footage from all around the club, and had a comfortable set of couches and chairs lining the other walls.  Music from the dance floor wafted through, giving a pleasant background sound.

“Well, they’re not due here for another hour; can I interest you in a dance?”

“Why, yes,” Gruoch said, rising and sliding over into his arms.  “You can.”

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, as Pansy stood in the back of the limo.

“Getting changed,” Pansy replied.  “This dress is perfect for dinner, but it’s too tight to dance properly.  Can you undo my zip?”

She felt him move, and then felt him fumble slightly as he drew the zip down.  She breathed deeply as she felt she could now breathe again properly.  She absently pressed a button on the panel, and the black privacy screen slid up, so that the driver wouldn’t be able to see her.

“Pass me that bag,” Pansy told Harry.  She was very tempted to take her dress off in front of him, fully aware that it had a built in bra, but decided not to.  Taking things slowly had worked for them so far, and she didn’t want to scare him off.

She pulled the t-shirt over her head, and then let the dress fall down, quite happy with this level of undress, as she’d slept in similar clothes before.  She shot a glance at him, and had to struggle to control a blush.  Far from being embarrassed, he was watching her with a frank appraisal, as if he’d realised that he was indeed male, and that as her boyfriend, he was allowed to look.

She smiled at him, wanting to encourage that sort of feeling, and pulled on the skirt, adding the belt.  “How do I look?”

He shook his head, an appreciative look on his face.

“Amazing,” he said simply.  “Beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she sat down next to him, a lot closer, so that she was almost on his lap.

“Should I be changing?” he asked.

“Nope, you’re a guy, Harry.  All you need to look sexier is a slight change.”  She leaned into him, deliberately invading his personal space, curious to see how he’d react.

He didn’t flinch, and just watched her with his brilliant, green eyes.

She undid his bowtie quickly, and then undid his top button.  “Better?”

“Yeah, a lot.”

“See, Harry, now you look like you’ve had a good night, and are ready to let your hair down.”

“Unlike you,” he smirked, “who’s had her hair down all evening.”

“I meant metaphorically,” she grinned back, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Good, because I really like your hair,” he said, sliding one hand up to play with it.  “Can you ask the driver to stop; I think we should walk a little to the club, and work off a little of that dinner, so that we can dance immediately.”

“That eager to get away from me in a closed space?”

“That eager to get you into my arms,” he retorted intently.

“You don’t need a dance floor for that anymore, Harry, we’re dating now.  It entitles you to all sorts of privileges, and hugging and cuddling is definitely one of them.”

“What about kissing?” he asked, and slid his other arm up, moving closer to her.

She could have cursed the driver as he pressed a button, causing a buzz to sound, letting her know that they had nearly arrived.

“We’re nearly there,” she said apologetically.  “I’ll get him to stop now, so we can walk the rest of the way.”

As he had before, Harry stepped out of the limo and offered his hand.  She moved next to him, and was delighted as he slid his arm around her shoulders.

“There’s quite a big queue,” Harry said, as they walked around the corner in Mayfair.

“One of the things that clubs like this like is having rich people inside.  They tend to spend the most money, and attract other people who want to be around the rich.”  She turned and flashed him a grin as they walked down the road, ignoring the queue.  “And one of the privileges of being the daughter of the owner is that we don’t need to wait in line.”

As they approached the door, the tuxedo-wearing bouncer took one look at them, and opened a path through the velvet rope for them.

As they entered the door, she heard someone shout, “How come they just walk in!?”

“When you can pull a bird that gorgeous, I’ll let you just walk in as well,” the doorman rumbled back, unimpressed.

Harry turned and leaned in; she could feel his breath brush against her ear.  “So, have I pulled a gorgeous bird like you?”  She had to strain to hear him above the music.

“That depends,” she half shouted, smiling at him.  “If you dance as good as you look, then yes.”

He laughed and took her hand, pulling her onto the dance floor.  She smiled, noticing that people automatically moved out of his way, almost like magic.

When they were in the centre of the dance floor, she watched as he picked up the beat like she had taught him, and twirled on the spot, before pulling her closer to him, and starting to dance.

“They’ve arrived,” Malcom said, as he spotted his daughter on the CCTV screens.

“When was the last time you saw Pansy look that happy?”

“When Storm gave birth to Thunder and Lightning?”

Gruoch nodded thoughtfully, “Close, but not quite.”

Malcom sighed.  “She wasn’t looking forward to a kiss, then.”

“She really taught him how to dance, didn’t she?”

Malcom nodded.

“That little tramp!” Gruoch said suddenly, as she watched them move.

“What?”

“That outfit is supposed to have a bra!”

Thirty minutes of dancing later, Pansy broke off to visit the ladies room.

Harry looked around, and climbed the stairs.  He was having a fantastic time, but his Weapons and Tactics training was never far from him and with Pansy out of his sight, he moved to higher ground, so that he could see any threats.

Today had outshone any of his previous birthdays by so much that there wasn’t a comparison.  When she had asked him to undo her dress, he felt his mouth go dry, and had happily complied.  As she raised the privacy shield, he’d realised that she was totally comfortable around him, and had settled back to watch the show.

He’d actually thought about jumping her as she’d stood there in just the brown t-shirt and white silk knickers.  He’d taken things slowly, really got to know her as a person, and not as a crush like with Cho, and now he wanted to move onto the kissing part.

For the first time when he’d been out in public, all the attention had been on Pansy, and not him as the Boy Who Lived.  She looked amazing.  The skirt highlighted her amazing legs, and he’d have found it impossible not to notice that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

He loved her confidence in herself - she always looked at him directly, she never shied away from looking him in the eye, and she didn’t blush or stutter.

Now that they had spent so much time together, literally twenty-four hours a day, he knew her a lot better than pretty much anyone else.  He knew when she was grumpy, when she was happy, and even, after making a rash comment, exactly what she was like on her period.  He still blushed as he remembered the in depth lecture she had given him when he hadn’t been listening and had told her he knew how she felt.

Looking back now, he realised that she had been interested in him since the beginning, but had taken it slowly, correctly realising that in the state that he had been in, he wasn’t capable of a relationship.  She’d shown a lot of patience, and that same confidence, that it would eventually work out for her.  Well, it had; he knew he was falling hard for her as the thought of going back to school, once the highlight of his summer, now made him feel slightly nervous.

He knew that his friends weren’t going to be happy that he was dating a Slytherin, and it would be worse if he admitted that he was falling in love with one.  But he wasn’t going to let that stand in the way.  With everything that had been taken from him, and everything that he’d lost, he wasn’t willing to risk his relationship with his angel.

He was a little concerned about going back to school, as he knew that his relatively new attitude wasn’t going to be appreciated by everyone.  He was no longer willing to take a back seat to anyone, not when it concerned keeping his girlfriend and his friends safe, and he had some grudges to settle with Snape and Umbridge.  He had a few ideas about how to handle them, but decided to speak to Malcom about it later.

He was less worried now about the future, about Voldemort.  He wasn’t under the illusion that it would be easy, but with the training he was receiving, he could see that he might at least have a chance, now.  The biggest gift that Pansy and her parents had given him was hope, hope for a future, a future he wanted to explore with her.

He smiled to himself, looking out at the dancing people.  He was in one of the most exclusive clubs in London with the best looking girl around,  who had never played games with him, and had given him the space to make his own decision, while making herself as open as possible.

How could any other birthday hope to match up to this?

Malcom picked up a phone, and dialled a four-digit number.

“My daughter has just entered the restroom,” he said shortly, before hanging up.  He picked up a remote and selected the nearest camera to the bathroom, before moving and sitting down next to his wife.

“Their orders are to provoke Harry, rough him up a little, if they can.”

“Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”

“I have to know that he is going to protect her,” he said simply.

They watched nervously as four men, all large, surrounded Pansy as she left the restroom.  They could see, but not hear, that some words were exchanged, and one of them put an arm around her.

Pansy reacted instinctively by grabbing the arm and twisting it the wrong way.

“I think I may have made a mistake,” Malcom said, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth had become.  “This is going to cost me a fortune.”

“What do you mean?”

“Harry’s just spotted what is happening.”

They watched the monitors as Harry smoothly vaulted over the railings, landing in a half crouch.  He stalked forwards, the crowd parting before him again.

“He looks a little determined,” Gruoch noticed.

“More than a little.  I’m going to have to pay those guys a fortune to compensate them for what he is about to do,” Malcom predicted.

He switched to the monitor that was covering Pansy, and then moved it to the main screen.

As one of the other men moved to blindside Pansy, and free their comrade’s arms, Harry arrived.

Malcom sighed again.  His bouncers had been told not to interfere, unless it looked like Harry or Pansy might get in serious trouble.  He hadn’t quite realised exactly how much of the martial arts and tactical training Harry had picked up, but knew that he was about to find out.

As were the four troublemakers.

Harry looked around casually, and then frowned, as he saw four men move in front of Pansy, blocking her return.  He paused, not wanting to jump to the rescue if she didn’t need it, but then he saw one of them put his hands on her.

He growled under his breath, and grabbed the rail next to him, vaulting over it.  He controlled his fall without thinking about it, crouching on the impact. Only the fact that he was in a Muggle nightclub stopped him from pulling his wand and casting some of the nastier curses he now knew.

He walked through the crowd, mentally telling them to get out of his way - and was a little surprised when they did, leaving him a clear path.  He wasn’t aware of the people turning to watch in his wake.

One of the men was moving towards Pansy’s blindside, so he ducked under the shoulder of one of the men, and stood next to her.  “Is there a problem?” he half asked, half growled.

“Beat it, prick,” the lead guy, who had some interesting facial piercings demanded.

“Like Scotty said,” the guy to his right agreed.  “Beat it, dickface.”

“No,” Harry replied calmly.  He began to breathe deeply, calling all of his senses into play, using them to form a mental picture of where all four of his opponents were.  He was sliding into fight mode now - the sereneness and mental clarity came from Croaker, but the techniques he was about to apply came from his Martial Arts training.  It was a combination he’d been encouraged to utilise by both his teachers. The loud music and flashing lights made it more difficult than it would have been else where.

“A little shit like you doesn’t deserve a bird like that, so bog off, and let us show her what a real man is like,” Scotty taunted.

“We’re not looking for trouble,” Harry said, almost feeling regretful for what was about to happen.  He hadn’t been trained to fight honourably; he’d been trained to fight the scum that were Death Eaters, people whose idea of mercy was only torturing for four hours, instead of five.  He’d been taught to win, and that half-measures were a mistake.  Not only were these idiots placing his girlfriend in danger, but they were also trying to ruin a night that she had tried very hard to make perfect for him.

He sensed one of the men behind him throw a punch at the back of his head, and started to move.  He slid to the side, allowing the punch to slide by him, and grabbed the wrist as it flew past his face.  He twisted it hard, and then smashed his fist into the locked elbow, destroying it with a loud snap.

Without hesitation, he kicked out with his right leg, driving it with all his power and balance into the knee of the second guy, who collapsed as fast as the first.

Twisting again, Harry launched a punch into the face of the man who had identified the talker, catching him cleanly on the chin, and knocking him out instantly.  He finished the twist, ending up facing Scotty straight on.

Still moving as fast as he could, he scissor kicked him in the stomach, and then brought his knee up hard, crushing the guy’s nose, and leaving him in a foetal position on the floor.

The fight, if such a one-sided contest could be called that, had lasted less than five seconds.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked Pansy, worried that she might be upset with him.

Pansy walked out of the bathroom, “Excuse me,” she said politely, trying to get past some men in her way.

“Well, what do we have here?” one of them sneered, instantly reminding her of Draco.  “A hot chick like you, all alone?”

“Actually,” Pansy said, deliberately making her voice as cold as possible.  “I am here with my boyfriend.”

“Awww, isn’t that cute,” he mocked.  “Well, you can dump him now.  You’re gonna be with us.”

“No, I’m not,” Pansy said shortly, and tried to get past.  One of the others put his arm around her, so she grabbed it and twisted, as she had been trained.  “I said, I’m not going with you.  You really don’t want to get me, or my boyfriend, angry.”

The talker laughed at her, “There’s four of us, luv.  He can get angry, all he likes.  And he can go home in an ambulance.”

Pansy was about to retort, when Harry appeared beside her so suddenly that she thought for a second that he had Apparated.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, his voice had an undercurrent Pansy hadn’t heard before.  It was intense, focused and cold.

She ignored the insults from the talker, suddenly realising that Harry was preparing to fight.  He was trying to talk them out of it, but was preparing himself in case it didn’t work.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of them trying to sneak up on Harry, and she felt sorry for them.  She had seen him train, and had fought him many times.  She’d watched, in awe, as he pushed himself harder than she would have thought possible, combining the different styles he had learnt into one that was uniquely his own, adding the best bits from the other classes.

He wasn’t the finished article yet, he still had quite a few more months of training ahead of him, but he was well on the path to becoming a Master martial artist.

The guy behind him tried to sucker punch Harry, and he started to move .  Within five seconds, the men were all on the floor, either unconscious or wishing they were.  She’d only seen him move like that once before, when he had been angry at himself for not picking up a move quickly enough, and he had poured his frustration into his actions.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and she realised that he was worried that he might have scared her or something.

He certainly hadn’t done that.  There’d been a ruthlessness about his actions that thrilled her, that gave hints that he had changed as much as she had, and it reassured her.

She smiled gratefully at him.  As good as she was, the idea of fighting four at once had still made her a little nervous.  She simply didn’t have the experience to fight in a real world situation.  It was something she knew would change soon, but there was no way she was giving up on Harry just because there might be some danger involved.

“What’s ‘appenin ‘ere?” The bouncer from the door, accompanied by five other identically dressed men, suddenly appeared.

“These idiots tried to stop me getting back to my boyfriend, and despite Harry warning them, one of them tried to attack him from behind,” Pansy snarled.  “Which is exactly the sort of incident that you are paid to prevent.”

“Sorry, Miss,” the bouncer mumbled.  “We’ll take care of it from here.”

Pansy nodded imperiously, and dragged Harry back to the dance floor.

“Did you know he could fight like that?” she half heard a familiar voice ask the bouncer - it was the same guy who had complained about their entry earlier.

“I’d heard rumours,” the bouncer replied.

“I’d’ve let him in, as well. Damn, but that dude can seriously kick ass!  No wonder he has the hottest chick in this place on his arm.”

“Dance with me,” she said, moving into his arms, and wrapping her arms around him.

Malcom blinked, and then reached for a remote control.  Silently he rewound the feed, and then played it again in slow motion.

“One, two, three, four, five, six,” he counted. “Six distinct movements and they are all on the floor.  Less than five seconds.”  He turned to face Gruoch, aware that his shock must be showing on his face, and was relieved that it was showing on hers as well.

“That wasn’t a Gryffindor fighting,” she stated, shaking her head a little.

“Croaker was a Slytherin,” Malcom said, still unable to believe what he had seen.  “He told me that he was pushing Harry, bringing out his protective side, focusing him, and teaching him to fight to win, no matter what it takes.

“All their trainers said that they had tried to teach them to win first, to fight fair second.”

“Your guys threw the first punch, and as far as he was concerned, they started it, but he sure as hell finished it.”

Malcom smiled, as a thought finally pushed his way through the shock.  “We’re going to win!” he said delightedly.  “We’ve backed the right person.”

“Of course we are,” Gruoch replied.  “We’re Parkinsons, we always win!”

“I thought you were someone else, all these years,” Pansy whispered.  It was late now; the DJ had announced the last dance, putting on a track by Texas.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked softly, leaning back a little so he could look into her eyes.

“That you were a pure Gryffindor, and that I was a pure Slytherin.  That we could never get together, because there was too much between us.  I had a slight crush on you, and now I worry a little.  Have I pushed you too far?”

Harry shook his head slowly. “You’ve not pushed me anywhere,” he whispered over the music.  “You’ve given me choices, options.  I’m exactly where I want to be.”

“Put your arms around me,” Pansy sang softly to the music, “make me believe.  Take me, take me somewhere.  Let me believe.  ‘Cause only time can take you.”

Harry tightened his arms.  He was no longer shy; he’d been waiting for this, and he wasn’t going to get a better chance.  She accepted him, his light and his darkness, and encouraged both, recognising that he would need each to survive.

He leaned down, and slowly pressed his lips to hers.  He held them there for a second, and then pulled back a little, looking at her as intently as he could.

“Do you believe?  Do you believe that I don’t want to be here with anyone else but you?” he asked softly.

She smiled at him, her eyes so open that he felt he could see into her soul.  He didn’t wait for her answer; he kissed her again, harder this time, wanting her to respond.

He felt her hands slide up his back, and wrap around the back of his neck, as she pulled him closer, and kissed him back.

His last kiss had been wet and disappointing - this was anything but.  He could feel her passion, and knew it matched his own.  Her tongue pressed gently against his lips, and he opened his mouth, inviting her in, offering her the sanctuary she was so obviously seeking.

The lights flicked on, and the music stopped.  And eventually, they broke the kiss.

“I believe,” she whispered softly, looking up at him tenderly.

White Knight, Grey Queen

4 - Promises

It was amazing how much twenty-four hours could change things.

Although technically, it wasn’t twenty-four hours yet; it was the same day, only they had already been through this day five times, the last being the time she had chosen to celebrate his birthday.

Twenty-four hours ago, for her at least, she was planning on getting them together, and now they were.

She had a boyfriend.

A boyfriend she was totally in love with.

A boyfriend she was pretty sure was in love with her.

A boyfriend who had fought for her, who had protected her, who had made her feel like the most important person in the world.

She propped herself up a little, so that she could watch him sleep.  She had taken to doing this most mornings now, as a way of sorting her thoughts out.  It was a quiet time when she could look at him without feeling uncomfortable about how much she just enjoyed the tilt of his nose, or the way his mouth moved.

The moves she had seen him make in the fight last night still thrilled her.  Her prince had taken out four men faster than she would have ever believed.  He had let loose the warrior inside him, the indefinable, virtually unstoppable will power that had helped him defeat the Basilisk, to escape from Voldemort, to save the Philosophers stone.

It had been deliberate, calculated, and while he had tried to avoid the fight, to talk them out of it, as soon as they had attacked, he had reacted - hard.  And then when it was done, and they were all on the floor, he had looked at her as if she might reject him for being so violent.

As if that would ever, could ever, happen.

She loved knowing that he was capable of doing whatever was needed to keep them both safe; it meant that her trust in him was even higher than before, and that she knew without a doubt that she could trust him with her heart.

And then there was the kiss.  She had opened herself to him like never before, practically begged him to kiss her, and he had.  And boy had he!  That same passion that kept him alive, that feeling that he wanted to live, no matter what the odds against him, was in the kiss.  It was a personal kiss, like it meant everything to him, and he was intent in pouring his very soul into it for her.

He had been firm in his belief that he was where he wanted to be, kissing the girl he wanted to kiss, happy with what was going on.  And his kiss had told her that he hadn’t lied.

So, she now had a boyfriend who could fight, who could think, who could protect her, who had magic hands, and who could quite definitely kiss.  She smiled softly and lightly reached out, stroking his hair back gently.

After the kiss they had waited for their limousine to pick them up, and take them home.  The entire journey, she had sat snuggled against him, her legs over his, his arm holding her tight, making her feel secure.  They hadn’t talked or kissed, they had just sat in the comfortable silence, enjoying this new aspect to their relationship.

Once they have arrived home, they had both undressed with their backs to each other; she had pulled on one of his t-shirts, while he had just removed everything but his silk boxers - an item she was going to have to thank her mum for providing him.

There had been a lot more kissing as they had lain in bed together, but he hadn’t pressed her for more, and eventually they had fallen asleep.

She smiled gently.  Even in bed with a very willing female, who wouldn’t have minded his magic hands wandering a bit further (well, a lot further), his innate sense of right and wrong meant that he kept to his own guidelines.

Sometimes she wished that he was a little more forward, that he took a few more liberties, but that wasn’t who she had fallen in love with.  He had taken things very slowly with their relationship, but when it had happened, it had felt a lot more right than if they had rushed it.  She knew him, and she knew that he knew her.  It had meant that the kiss, rather than a passionate hint of what was to come, was more like the last thing to drop into place in their relationship.

There had been a small doubt at the back of her mind that maybe he wouldn’t be a good kisser, and that maybe they were destined to be friends, and that he’d end up with Weasley or Granger.  She now knew that he thought of Granger as a sister and that while he had been attracted to Weasley, she was dating someone else, and he was happy with that.

But her worries had been smashed when she had fought to restrain the urge to drag him down on to the dance floor straight away.

She slid her fingers gently down his face, lightly brushing them over his shoulder.  She didn’t want to go back to Hogwarts now.

Not back to the place where she was a Queen Bitch and he was the heroic White Knight, always rushing in where angels fear to tread, to save a damsel in distress, or rescue a godfather, to do something incredibly brave and noble with no thought for personal gain or his own safety.

Not back to the place where his friends hated Slytherins, and where she was supposed to hate him.

But her concerns were somewhat abated by the fact that he had already mentioned that he didn’t like the way the school was split, and that he planned to do something about it.

It was one of the things that constantly amazed her about him.  He didn’t see the world in what was possible and impossible, only in what was worth doing.  If something was worth doing, then regardless of the cost, he would do it.  It was like the normal everyday worries that most people suffered from didn’t apply to him.

“You’re worrying about school,” Harry whispered suddenly.

“How can you tell?” she asked, looking up into his green eyes.  She hadn’t felt him awake.

“You’re broadcasting a little,” he said softly.  “I can hear you this morning.”

Broadcasting: allowing yourself to be completely open, so that another Legilimens could pick up your thoughts without trying.

She smiled at him.  “I trust you a little more this morning.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he whispered, pulling her on top of him so he could look into her eyes.

She smiled down at him, shaking her head a little, allowing her hair to form a curtain around them.  “I do, though.”

“Because it will be different; there will be other people involved, people who won’t like that the golden boy is falling for his grey queen.”  His words captured her fears so succinctly and perfectly.

She laughed softly.  “Grey queen?”

He nodded, his eyes twinkling.  “Yep.  My queen with her beautiful grey eyes, and slightly grey outlook towards the world.  Not white, but not black.”

“Only Saints act with no ulterior motives, and Sinners have much more fun,” she whispered back, a smile on her face.

He laughed softly, and she could feel his hands stroke up and down her back.

“Don’t worry about school,” he said, again.  “I am not giving you up.  We are going to deal with Snape, with Umbridge, and the moment he steps an inch out of line, with Draco as well.  I’ve got a plan to do it, and I’ll be talking to your dad about it later.  I’m also thinking about moving out of Gryffindor Tower.  I’m not going to be comfortable there.”

“Why not?”

“Because I won’t be sleeping in the same bed as my queen.  And I’ve become very used to that.”

She could feel herself smiling widely and gave into the temptation to give him a little kiss.  “So, are you asking me to move out of Slytherin Dungeon as well?”

“Yep, we’ll move into the Room of Requirement together and sleep there.  As Dobby will be taking care of us, we don’t even need to eat with the others if we don’t want to.”

“And what about Dumbledore?”

“He won’t interfere,” Harry replied calmly.  “He is still one of the most powerful wizards in the world, and as much as having an ongoing feud with him is appealing at the moment, it’s not really going to help in the long run.  We’re going to have to develop a new relationship between that’s us that is based on trust.

“He’s going to have to prove that I can trust him again, and part of that will be allowing me to break most of the school rules by living with you separately.”

“How can you be so calm about this?”

“Because I’m not going to accept any other answer,” he replied, his face serious.  “I need something to fight for, to live for, to help push me, and for me to use to push myself.  That’s you, mainly.  Some of it is for my friends, for your parents, for the Weasleys, but mainly it’s for you.  You’ve personalised it all for me.  I’m not fighting for a greater good, or any other nebulous concept.  Not any more.  I’m pushing myself to keep you safe first and foremost.”

She felt her heart lurch, and her eyes welled up, a tear running down her cheek.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, his hand raising to brush it away.

“Oh Harry,” she whispered, turning her face to kiss his hand gently.  “You know how to make a girl feel wanted.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

She laughed.  “A very good thing. Wherever you go Harry, I’ll be right there with you.  When you fight, I’ll make sure your back is covered.  What ever happens, you’ll never be alone, I promise you.  I swear to you that’ll I stand by you for eternity.”

This time she watched as he raised his head and gently kissed her, saying his thanks with actions rather than words.

“Promise me that you’ll win,” she whispered, suddenly dreading what would happen if he lost, if she didn’t have him.

“I can’t promise that,” he whispered back, his eyes losing their sparkle.  A moment later they were replaced by a look of steely determination.  “I can promise to do everything I can to win.”

She took a deep breath, and held it for a second, and waited till her own confidence came back. “That will do, and it will be up to me to help make sure it happens.”

She felt his smile shoot through her, directly into her heart, as his eyes regained their twinkle.

“So, what are we doing today?”

“We’ll take Thunder and Lightning on a long walk, and spend the evening by stream, until we know that we’ve left for London.”

Harry rolled his eyes softly.

“Yes, I know,” Pansy grinned, poking him softly.  “It gives you a headache!”

The next morning, which was the first time through the day after Harry’s Birthday, they walked into their duelling lesson and were surprised to find their martial arts teacher present as well.  Next to them were four vaguely human shaped dummies.

“In order to ensure you get the full benefit of our training, we have decided to merge both your duelling and Martial Arts lessons,” Croaker announced.  “Harry, we’ve heard what happened last night, and we’d like you to show us what happened.  Please use these dummies to demonstrate the position they were in.”

Harry nodded, and after a glance at Pansy, walked over to the dummies and arranged them so he was surrounded.

“The first one threw a punch at the back of my head,” Harry said.  “So I slid to one side, and grabbed his arm with my left hand, twisting it.  I then punched him as hard as I could in the elbow.

“From there, I kicked out at the guy to my left, smashing into his knee, and then punched the guy to my right, before kicking the man in front of me in the stomach, then kneeing him in the face.”

“Show me,” Croaker demanded.  He waved his wand, and the dummy behind him started to move, throwing a punch at Harry.

Harry followed his movements from the day before precisely.

“Excellent,” Croaker said.  “Now do it again.”

Harry shrugged and nodded.  As the first Dummy moved, he repeated his movements, and then kicked out at the second.  Only the second Dummy moved his leg out of the way.  He recovered his balance, and he was about to launch a second attack, when the Dummy that was now behind him, kicked him in the back of the knee.

He fell to the ground, rolling to one side.

“Enough,” Croaker said, stopping the Dummies.  “You did well, Harry, but as soon as you started to move, you presumed that they wouldn’t.

“Your fight yesterday was caught on the club’s cameras, and we have reviewed it.  Your speed was excellent, but your execution would have left you vulnerable against trained opposition.  You can’t just presume that people are going to stand there and let you hit them.  Death Eaters certainly won’t,” Croaker pointed out.

“The techniques you used were good,” their Sensei continued.  “But what were you doing during the fight, Pansy?”

Pansy sighed audibly.  “A basic threat assessment showed that they were large, unskilled Muggles.  I was making sure to stay out of Harry’s way as he moved.  If they had been skilled, I would have done something about it.  As it was, it was obvious that he wouldn’t need any help dealing with them.”  Her voice was sharp and dry, as she was obviously unhappy with them presuming that either of them hadn’t identified the threat level of the Muggles.

“There are times in life when showing your full hand is not a good idea – this was one of them.  As it was, it gave the impression that Harry could handle himself, and that I was pretty useless.  That means that any further trouble would have meant that they massively underestimated me, and focused entirely on Harry, which would have given me the opportunity to attack them from behind in their weak spots.”

Harry slowly turned to face Pansy.  “Have I ever mentioned that you’re amazing?”

“A time or two,” Pansy said modestly, smiling back at him.

“Well,” Croaker interrupted them.  “I see that you are paying attention to your Weapons and Tactics training.  Harry, while your sensei teaches Pansy, we’ll go through your fight again, and I’ll show you some opportunities to use subtle magic to help you out.”

“Morning,” Ginny yawned, walking into the kitchen.  “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Ron said quickly, picking up a spoon and trying to hide the paper.

“Ron, has that ever worked?” Ginny asked curiously.

Ron sighed.  “Not that I’m aware of, but sometimes it might be better to trust me that you don’t want to know about it.”

“But now you’ve made me curious,” Ginny replied.  “And I can hardly ignore it, can I?”

“I guess not.  I’m sorry, Gin,” he said, and held out the Daily Prophet for her.  She took it, looked at the front page, and gasped.

“We’re sorry, Ginny,” Hermione echoed.

Ginny held up her hand for silence, before slumping into a chair and reading the article in full.

Harry Potter and the Muggle Princess

By Amanda Snooper

Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, and eligible bachelor, spotted in Muggle Nightclub

In a move that will devastate young Witches all over the country, Harry Potter, famed for his defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fifteen years ago, and for his tireless efforts to alert the Wizarding World to the return of the Dark Lord, was spotted in a Muggle Nightclub on Saturday night.

“I was out with some friends, having a great time, and we thought we’d go to Embassy,” Emily Brightherd, a Squib living in London told this reporter.  “You can always see some Muggle celebrities there.  We were queuing for entry when this gorgeous couple walked by and straight in.  I didn’t recognise him at first, but as he turned, I saw his green eyes and the famous scar, and I realised it was Harry Potter.

“Inside the nightclub, we watched him on the dance floor, and we were so jealous of the girl he was with.  I’ve been a huge fan of (Gilderoy) Lockhart for years, but after seeing Harry Potter in person, Lockhart doesn’t even come close.  He (Potter) is much better looking and is a really cool dancer as well.”

Potter, 16, was then involved in an altercation with several Muggles.

“His girlfriend went to the bathroom, and we watched Harry move to the stairs that separated the VIP area from the dance floor.  He was looking really thoughtful, and we were about to approach him for his autograph, when he suddenly jumped over the railings and dropped to the floor.   He looked so cool.

“We followed him as he stormed through the dance floor and saw that some Muggles were assaulting his girlfriend.  We wondered why he didn’t use magic to rescue them, but then remembered that he’s under-age and can’t, legally.  Because of the crowd, I couldn’t see what happened, but my friend told me that they tried to attack Harry, and Harry flattened them.”

Inquiries to the Police (Muggle Aurors) said that four men had been admitted to hospital, and that Vidyo - a Muggle device like a Pensieve - had shown that the four men had been involved with Potter, and that he had acted in self-defence.

Brightherd continued, “After that, we all stood around the bar to watch Harry and his girlfriend.  They danced together for ages, and it was so romantic!  We didn’t want to interrupt them after that; you could see that she was so grateful for him looking after her.  Then at the end of the night, during the final dance, they kissed.  You could see the passion they shared a mile off.  I really wanted to be that Muggle.”

When asked about Harry Potter’s mysterious girlfriend, Brightherd’s boyfriend, Squib Kelvin Brown said, “She looked amazing.  She was by far the best looking girl in the nightclub, but she was obviously a Muggle.  My cousin, Lavender, goes to Hogwarts, and when I asked her, she told me that there was no one like that at Hogwarts, and the girl didn’t look like anyone at the school.  She was the same age as Harry and had an English accent, so she wasn’t a Beauxbatons student.

“Everyone knows that Harry was brought up as a Muggle, so maybe he met her then.  Either way, he must have been really lucky because when they left the club, a Limousine (A Muggle form of transport that only the elite use) picked them up, and the girl was obviously in charge.”

So does this mean that Harry Potter is off the market?  With a Muggle?  The Daily Prophet is offering a reward of One Hundred Galleons for a photo of Harry Potter and his Muggle Princess.”

Ginny folded the paper and sighed softly, feeling a single teardrop down her cheek.  “You’re right; I didn’t want to know that.”

Hermione stood, opening the window to allow Hedwig to enter the kitchen.  She pulled the message off the owl’s leg, gave her a treat, and watched as the snowy owl took off again.

“Hey Guys ,” she read out loud.

“You’ve probably seen the damn Prophet this morning.  I can’t even have a night out on my birthday without the bloody press making it front page news.

“Well, first off, to inform you of some good news.  Yes, I do have a girlfriend now, and I have no idea if she was the best looking girl in that nightclub, as I didn’t take my eyes off her all night.

“I’m hoping that you guys will get to meet her, as, appearances to the contrary, she isn’t a Muggle.  But I don’t want you telling anyone about that.

“I think the idea of a Welcome Back/Harry Potter birthday party at Hogwarts is a great idea, but on one condition!  It has to be a Welcome Back/Harry Potter/Ginevra Weasley birthday party.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know when your birthday was, Gin, and I owe you quite a few missed presents, but I’ve got my girlfriend to help my find something perfect for you.  Dean better get you something nice, or I’ll hex him into the next century.

“Ron, and Hermione, that’s great news that you two are together now.  So three becomes six?  Sure, our relationships are changing around us, but we will always be friends, we’ll just have more people in our close group.  I wonder if we can get Neville and Luna together as well.  It might get her over her weird crush on Ron (I mean, who’d like Ron like that -- I’m kidding, Ron)

“Well, now on to the bad news.  Dumbledore seems to think that my firm “Leave me alone,” is to be ignored at his will.  As well as the Portkey that Dobby intercepted, he has tried to track me down again, so my hosts are going to put up some wards that make me undetectable to owls.  So you guys won’t be able to contact me, and I won’t be able to contact you.

“I wish it hadn’t come down to this, but the skills I am learning here are going to ensure that the next time I meet Voldemort and the Death Eaters, it will be very different.

“I really miss talking to you guys, and being able to share everything that has happened recently, but I can’t take the chance that someone else, either Voldemort or Dumbledore, might see this and work out what is happening.

“You three are, girlfriend excluded, my three closest friends, and I’ll tell you everything when we get back to school.

“Harry”

Ginny stood slowly and walked back up to her room without paying attention to Ron and Hermione; once there, she collapsed onto her bed and burst into tears.

“So,” Gruoch asked as she entered her husband’s office.  “What happened to the Muggles?”

Malcom looked up and sighed.  “It did cost me a relative fortune.   Peirce was not amused in the least to be dragged out of his bed in the middle of the night to heal them.  The list of injuries included one destroyed elbow, one crushed knee, one broken jaw, and one broken nose.  They have now all been healed and Obliviate d, and they think that they got in a normal fight after a few too many beers.  They have a few bumps and bruises but nothing serious.

“They're from Newcastle, anyway, so it's unlikely that they will even realise they were in London last night.”

“What about the police?”

“Oh, you mean from the Prophet?  I had a friend give them false information.  The police would have arrested Harry if they had known about it.  It was a good job our bouncers took them to our home in Kensington, or it could have been a complete mess.”

“I was amused that they think Pansy is a Muggle.”

“I talked to them this morning and kept Pansy's description out of the article, because misdirection is always a good idea, and if people are looking for Harry around the Muggle countryside, they're not going to be looking at Parkinson Manor.”

--

“Morning, Remus,” Tonks said, sitting down opposite him in a small café.

“Morning,” Remus replied, drinking his coffee.

“I’m here to take you to Harry,” Tonks said, absently leaning to one side.

Her instincts were proved correct when the werewolf spluttered, the coffee in his mouth flying across the table.

“What?”

“Harry has asked me to bring you to see him.  He wants to talk to you.”

“Wait a second,” Remus interrupted.  “You know where he is, and you haven’t told Albus?”

“Correct,” Tonks agreed, her wand suddenly in her hand.  “I’m sorry Remus, but things are happening that you don’t understand.  I can’t let you talk to Dumbledore before you’ve talked to Harry.  I will Obliviate you.”

Remus gaped at the Auror in front of him.  “But...”

“No buts,” Tonks replied firmly.  “If you come with me, you will learn everything you need to know; if you don’t, I’ll Obliviate you of this conversation.”

Remus nodded.  “I’ll come with you.  I want to see Harry; I need to check he’s alright.”

“Good,” Tonks said brightly, her Auror personality vanishing as she changed her hair a bright pink.  “Let’s go. I’ve got a car outside.”

They walked out and sat in the back of the elegant Rolls Royce.  Once inside, Tonks tapped the window separating them from the driver.

“I suggest you relax,” she said calmly.  “It’s going to be a long drive.  And you won’t be able to tell where we’re going – security is very important.”  She tapped her wand against the windows, causing them to go dark, and switched on a light.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked, looking around.  “Why are you acting like this?”

Tonks smiled sadly.  “Hopefully, you’ll understand soon.  But at the moment, it’s probably the most important thing in the world.  Drink?”

Harry watched as Tonks helped Remus out of the car.  He had what looked like a black box around his head, blocking both his eyesight and sense of smell.  As much as he hated putting his friend through this, he wasn’t sure where Remus’ loyalties lay.  After all, he’d been a Dumbledore supporter for many years.

He moved and sat down behind a desk in the non-descript room in Parkinson Manor.

“You’ll do fine,” Pansy said softly.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“I really want him on our side,” Harry replied.  “He was the one who taught me the Patronus charm, and in a way, he’s the last firm link to my parents.”

Pansy leant forwards and kissed him gently.  “Don’t worry.  He’ll listen to you.”

Harry nodded and smiled at her.  “Thanks,” he said, as he sat down.

Pansy moved to the side of the desk, and sat quietly, one of her father’s notebooks on her lap so that she could ask him some questions if needed.  It hadn’t been hard for Gruoch to find a spell to modify the notebooks so that they could be used in this fashion.

“Sit down,” Tonks said gently, as she led the magically blindfolded werewolf into the room.

Harry watched as Remus sat down in the chair opposite him, and took a deep breath.  At a nod from him, Tonks cancelled the spell.

“It’s good to see you again, Remus,” Harry said with a smile, as the black box vanished.

“Harry?” Remus said.  “Harry?!”  His eyes seemed to go impossibly wide.  “Harry?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Harry laughed.

“What the hell has happened to you?”

“Good food, good company, good exercise,” Harry replied.  “Oh, and some Muggle laser surgery to fix my eyes.”

Remus collapsed back into the chair.  “Wow.”

Harry laughed again.  “Is that all you have to say?”

Remus looked a little too stunned to say anything else.

“Where am I?”

“My home,” Harry replied, losing his laughter.

“Why all the secrecy?”

“Because I don’t trust Dumbledore anymore.  I told him that I was safe, and not only did he send that Portkey, but he also sent a tracking parchment to try and find where I was.  It means that I’ve had to arrange for the Wards to hide me from all Owls.  Hedwig is rather upset that she doesn’t know where I am all the time anymore.”

Remus gaped at him.

“Catching flies?”

Remus shut his mouth instantly, and took another deep breath.  “I see that you’re looking well, Harry.  How are you, really?”

“I’ve never felt like this,” Harry replied honestly.  “If you saw the Prophet yesterday, you can guess that this is my girlfriend.”  He deliberately didn’t name Pansy, not wanting Remus to know anything more than he had to at the moment.

“Hi,” Pansy smiled.

“Err, hi,” Remus said back.

“What do you know about the Werewolf Protection Bill?”

“The what?” Remus asked, frowning.

“It was a Bill introduced in the Ministry last week by Lucius Malfoy that would force all Werewolves to wear tracking bracelets at all times, and would ensure that all Werewolves were kept out of public places.”

Remus paled.  “But that’s reprehensible.  It’s practically forcing all Werewolves to join Voldemort.”

“Indeed,” Harry agreed.  “What was Dumbledore doing about it?”

“I don’t know,” Remus replied.

“Nor do I,” Harry sighed.  “The Bill has been dropped.  It will not be going through.  I had someone make a direct intervention to ensure it.”

“You did what!?”

“I had Fudge intimidated into dropping the Bill,” Harry said calmly, knowing that he was exaggerating a little, as Malcom had only told him after it had happened.  “I was not prepared to have all the Werewolves join Voldemort, so I did something about it.  It was going to go to Vote yesterday afternoon, as a surprise inclusion to the Council, where it would have passed with a 70% majority.”

“How do you know this?”

“I have my sources,” Harry replied, being as deliberately vague as possible.  It was important that everyone they recruited believed that he was in charge and was taking both the credit and the blame.

Remus sat up straighter in the chair.  “What is going on, Harry?  What is all of this?”

Harry took a deep breath.  “What seems like a lifetime ago, I was very close to death.  I had Wizarding Flu; I hadn’t eaten anything in weeks.  I was starving, almost delirious, when a face suddenly appeared in my nightmares.  She was my angel; she promised to take care of me.  She got me out of that house despite the wards that Dumbledore said are supposed to protect me.  She introduced me to people who backed up their words with actions, who were willing to do what was necessary to help me out.

“I woke up warm and feeling safe for the first time since I left Hogwarts.  I made an instant decision then to trust them, because they had saved my life.  They healed me, treated me as an adult, and gave me a proposition.

“They would help me form a third way, a way unencumbered with the legacies of old hatreds.  A way for the people who want Voldemort defeated to help do that.  And they are willing to do whatever it takes to achieve that goal.  A group without the prejudices against other races that Voldemort and the Order has.  We have the house-elves willing to help; we also have the Goblins.  We should be able to get the Acromantulas, and we’d like the Werewolves.

“We have already stopped the Bill, and now we want your help.  We want all the Werewolves to help us.  In return, we offer two things: Freedom, and full Ministry support to finally find a cure for the Lycanthropic disease.  We are not willing to sit back and watch as any intelligent species is looked down upon by wizards as somehow being inferior.

“We have the resources, but we need the people.  We need as much help as we can get.”

Remus shook his head slowly, an amazed look on his face.  “Why don’t you trust Professor Dumbledore?”

“Why should I trust someone who appoints Snape to teach me Occlumency, despite our history, and then doesn’t check on what Snape was doing?  How can I trust someone who knows what my life is like at the Dursleys, but sends me there any way?  How can I trust someone whose vaunted blood protection is so ineffective that my girlfriend and her family can spirit me away in the middle of the night without anyone being the wiser?

“I do not trust his judgement anymore, Remus.  I don’t blame him for Sirius’ death as that was my mistake; I could have handled things quite differently.  A lot of things could have been done differently.”

Remus nodded slowly, his face thoughtful.  “It takes a lot of resources to start up another group,” he said.

Harry nodded.  “Remus Lupin, meet my girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson.”

Remus gaped again.  “Parkinson?  Pansy? But you look nothing like the girl I taught.”

“Oh, I was under a glamour spell,” Pansy smiled.  “I was hiding from Malfoy at the time.”

Remus slumped back, shock clearly visible on his face.  “Malcom and Gruoch?”

“My parents,” Pansy agreed.  “They are backing Harry fully.  We rescued him and brought him here.  They wanted to help out to thank James and Lily, but everything else has been done with Harry in charge.”

“Have you heard the Prophecy?” Harry asked calmly.

“What Prophecy?”

“The one that says that I am the only one that can kill Voldemort.  The Prophecy that states that one of us must die so that the other can live.”

“When did you hear that?”

“Dumbledore has known about it for many years now, yet hasn’t seen fit to tell me about it, or do anything to help me prepare for my battle with Voldemort.”

Remus sighed.  “I’m sure he knew what he was doing.”

“He might have,” Harry agreed.  “However, I personally don’t think so.  I’ve learnt more about how to fight since I’ve been here than I have in the rest of my time at Hogwarts.”

Remus raised his eyebrows.  “Really?”

Harry nodded.  “Malcom and Gruoch have arranged for some exceptionally good teachers to help us.  There is no point in me facing Voldemort if I don’t have a chance of winning.”

“Are you willing to show me what you have learnt?”

Harry smiled faintly.  He had half expected this.  “Yes, I am.”  He stood and cast a quick spell to move the table out of the way, placing it against a wall.  Pansy and Tonks both moved to sit on it and watch.

“When you’re ready,” Harry said with a half bow.

“Don’t you need your wand, Harry?” Remus said.  “It’s very bad form to be caught without it.”

Harry laughed, “Just attack Moony, so that we can get this out of the way and get back to the important stuff.”

Remus shrugged and cast Rictusempra .

“What are we, first years?” Harry said mockingly, as he casually swayed to one side.  “A tickling charm?”

“Petrificus Totalus ,” Remus chanted.

“That’s more like it,” Harry encouraged, as he dropped backwards to the floor, letting the curse pass cleanly over his head, before jumping back to his original position.

“How did you do that?”

Harry grinned, “I told you.  I’ve been trained by the best.”

“Confundus , Diffindo , Engorgio ,” Remus said in quick succession.

“Protego Magnus,” Harry said, his wand appearing in his hand from his sleeve.  He watched as the curses bounced off his shield.  He smiled, “My turn.”

“Distendo,” he whispered, causing a bright light to appear directly above his shoulder.  He used the momentary distraction to dive into a tight roll, jumping out of it and spinning in mid air, his foot catching Remus’ wrist with as little force as he could put into it, not wanting to hurt the Marauder.  He landed, completely on balance, his wand straight between Remus’ eyes.

“I win,” he whispered.

“Damn Harry, that was amazing.” Remus said excitedly.  “What was that shield you used?”

“A more powerful Protego,” he explained.  “And I pulled the kick; if I’d gone through with it normally I’d have broken most of the bones in your wrist.”

“Thank you,” Remus said dryly, absently rubbing his wrist.  “So what does Malcom get out all of this?”

“Money, power, and respect, and the biggest challenge of his life so far,” Harry answered, walking over to Pansy and sitting next to her.  He smiled at her as she immediately swung her legs over his and cuddled into him, placing a small kiss on his jaw.

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Remus asked, pulling up a chair.

“Nope.  They’ve told me what they want and expect, and as long as they don’t do anything too illegal, it’s a price I’m happy to pay for their support.  Besides, all that to one side, I really like them.”

“Okay, I’ll join,” Remus said.

“What?” Harry blinked.

“Sign me up.  I’ll join,” Remus said again cheerfully.

“Erm, I didn’t expect you to say yes so easily,” Harry admitted, feeling a little stunned.

“Harry,” Remus said softly.  “I have lost my best friends in this war and pretty much every chance of a normal life I’ve ever had.  I wanted to take you in myself, but Albus insisted you would be better with the Dursleys, as I was and am a werewolf.

“Albus has been in charge for so long, and I blame him for Sirius’ death.  He told me what had happened between you.  He took away my best friend, he allowed your parents to die, and he didn’t look after you like he promised.  And he certainly didn’t know anything about this Werewolf Protection Bill,” he went on.

“I’ve been a member of the Order of the Phoenix for one reason and one reason alone: to keep an eye on you and to help keep you safe.  If you’re forming your own group, there is no reason for me to be in the Order.

“The friendship I had with James, Lily, and Sirius was like nothing else I have ever felt in my life since then.  We were closer than family, and we swore to be friends forever.  And we have each lived up to that promise.  I am the last remaining person, and my promise to them extends to you now.”

Harry felt Pansy swing her legs off him and lightly pat him on the back.  He dived forwards and embraced Remus tightly.

He felt the werewolf hug him back and felt a tear escape his tightly clamped eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“No, thank you, Harry,” Remus said back.

The two broke apart, and Harry turned into Pansy, holding her tightly, vaguely aware that Tonks and Remus were hugging as well.

“Well,” Harry said eventually, not releasing his girlfriend.  “Now that you’re joining us, we can sit somewhere comfortably and really catch up with what is going on.”

Remus nodded and smiled.  “And perhaps explain exactly why Pansy seems to have lost her sneer.”

Pansy laughed.  “Have you tried sneering around Harry?”

Remus shook his head, a smile appearing on his face.

“It’s not possible,” Pansy smiled back.  “And besides, I’ve got nothing to sneer about anymore.  Draco can shove his wand up his arse; I’ve got the best man in the world.”

Harry felt himself blushing, and then groaned as he saw the mischief in Remus’ eyes.  It was going to be a long night.

“So, Harry,” Remus continued, “You’ll have to tell me exactly what you were doing in a Muggle Nightclub.”

“Problem?” Snape asked, entering Dumbledore’s office for a meeting about the schedule for the upcoming year’s classes.

“Here,” Dumbledore said, passing the Daily Prophet across the table.

“So he’s staying with Muggles?” Snape sneered as he finished.

“I don’t think so,” Dumbledore said.  “Dobby would not be able to stay with Muggles.”

“Unless he’s staying out of sight,” Snape argued.  “We know that he tried to protect Potter and stop him coming to the school in his second year.”

“True,” Dumbledore agreed.

“I’ll bet that’s it,” Snape nodded.  “Arrogant child, why can’t he stay out of trouble?”

“I shall send him another owl, without a charm this time, and hope it gets through to him.”

Snape nodded and mumbled, “And I’ll take twenty points when I see him for forcing me to crawl through the Chamber of Secrets to find that damn letter his elf left.”

“It’s been a long time, Remus,” Malcom said calmly, as he joined Harry, Pansy, Remus, Tonks, and Gruoch at the table.

“It has; you’re looking good,” Remus replied.

“You look awful,” Malcom said in return.  “Where exactly are you living at the moment?”

“Somewhere near the Shrieking Shack,” Remus said, wincing a little.

“Not any more,” Malcom said decisively.  “You’re going to be useless to us if you’re tired and hungry.  You’re going to move in here; we’ve got more than enough space.”

“But...”

“I wouldn’t argue,” Harry interrupted.  “If you do, I’ll be forced to bring out some heavy duty emotional blackmail.  If that fails, I’ll get Tonks to persuade you to stay.”

“Huh?” Remus asked.

“You think I didn’t see the hug earlier?  Or the way you don’t like to go more than thirty seconds without looking at her?”

Remus blushed.  “Like you do anything different with Pansy?”

Harry smirked.  “But I am officially dating Pansy, and I’ve told her to her face that I think she is incredible.  When’s the last time you told Tonks that?”

Remus seemed to change to a even deeper shade of red.

“Come on, Moony,” Harry continued, now determined to tease as much as he could.  “It’s not hard to tell her.”

“Pansy, will you please shut him up,” Remus begged.

“Okay,” Pansy said perkily, as she pulled Harry around and kissed him as hard as she could.

Harry tried to protest for a second until he realised that kissing Pansy was a lot more fun than teasing Remus, and he locked his arms around her tightly and kissed her back.  He could feel her tongue invade his mouth and groaned as he forgot everything but the feeling of her mouth against his.

Pansy smiled and broke the kiss, sitting back down primly.  “That do?” she asked.

Remus gulped.  “Yeah, but now I think I’m jealous.”

“We’ll see about that,” Tonks said, while Harry tried to regain his bearings.

She leant over and kissed Remus exactly as Pansy had kissed Harry.

She pulled back with the same self satisfied look on her face.

“That looks like fun,” Gruoch announced and pounced on her husband.  When he was as dazed as the others, she smiled happily.  “Ladies, why don’t we go next door and leave our heroes to recover?”

“Good idea,” Tonks said.  “Come on, Pansy.”

“Are you two sure you know what you’re doing?” Malcom asked wryly, as the three women left the room.  “Getting involved with strong women is always a challenge.”

“Better than dating a hosepipe,” Harry said.  “And I like the idea of being involved with a strong woman.  I wouldn’t give Pansy up for anyone.”

“And I’m going to make this relationship with Tonks official,” Remus grinned.

“We’re all mad,” Malcom grinned.

“To madness,” Harry said, raising his glass.

“Madness,” the other two echoed.

“To get back to business,” Malcom said, “I found out today a lot about Sirius’ will.”

Harry and Remus sat up, dropping their joking expressions.

“There were some problems with it, because Sirius was still a criminal, and the Goblins were not aware that he had passed away.  I cleared up the confusion and offered the recording we have of the battle at the Ministry.

“The Goblins are the executors of his will and want to meet you both tomorrow.  Erm, that’s tomorrow in real time, Harry.  So you’ll have to do it on your next day off.”

Harry nodded, “Not a problem.”

“Real time?” Remus asked.

“I’ll explain later,” Malcom said.  “From what the Goblins told me, there doesn’t need to be anyone else there, so we can be pretty sure that you two are going to get everything.  Not that I know what he had; I presume the Black fortune, but I’m not positive.

“Harry, with Sirius dead, I’ve started some proceedings to declare you an emancipated minor and allow you full access to your inheritance and family vault.”

Harry nodded, taking a sip of his drink.  “This means that I will be legally an adult, and have the right to look after myself, and be able to do anything a full adult can do?”

Malcom nodded.

“Okay.”  He took a deep breath and held out his hand.  “At some stage, I’m going to want to start legal proceedings against Dolores Umbridge for the illegal use of a torture device, namely a blood quill.”

Malcom and Remus both went white and looked shocked.  “A blood quill?” Remus gasped.

“Yes,” Harry said, showing the scars on his hand.  “I looked them up, and they are forbidden objects.”

“Evil things,” Malcom growled.  “Why not just let me take care of it?  I can promise you you’ll never see her again.”

“Because revenge is a dish best served cold,” Harry said, the temperature in his voice lowering.

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked softly, as Ginny entered the kitchen the next morning.

“Pensive,” Ginny said softly, moving over to the fridge to pour herself a drink.

“Huh?” Ron asked.

“I had a long time to think last night,” Ginny explained quietly.  “I didn’t sleep much.”

“Sit down, honey,” Molly said, her voice equally as soft.  “I’ll make you some breakfast.”

“So what are you going to do?” Ron asked.  “I still think that Harry doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Stop, Ron,” Ginny interrupted firmly.  “You know what I was thinking last night?  Why am I upset about this?  Why do I deserve to go out with Harry?

“And I realised something late last night.  I don’t.  I have no right to date Harry.  Life isn’t a beautiful place where we all become one big happy Weasley family.  Charlie and Tonks didn’t work; Bill and Fleur are going back to being co-workers after their flirting, Fred and George are enjoying being bachelors.

“And being the youngest, I thought that I’d get the great Harry Potter and finish off the fantasy.

“Life’s not like that.  That sort of thing doesn’t happen.”

“Oh, Ginny,” Molly said.

“Wait, Mum,” Ginny interrupted again.  “I’ve not finished.

“I got angry at Harry for putting me through this again, for making me fall in love with him, and ignoring me.  But you know what I realised?  Harry hasn’t ignored me this time.  He thinks that I’ve found happiness with someone else, and he is willing to do everything he can to make sure I am happy, and that I am included.

“He doesn’t have to do that, he doesn’t need to do that, but that is exactly the sort of person he is.  It is the sort of person that I fell in love with.  Harry is willing to let other people get close to him, for me.

“For me.  Do you realise how humble that makes me feel?  Someone who values his privacy so much is willing to lose some of it so I can be happy.

“That is friendship.  That is what friends do.  That is someone who obviously cares about me.  And about me -- little Ginny Weasley -- as an individual.

“It made me think about friendship, about what his friendship means to me.  I became his friend to get to know him better, and to hope that he would get to know me better and fall for me.  Do you know how shitty that makes me feel?

“Here’s Harry willing to open his life for me, and I’m crying my heart out because he’s got a girlfriend.  A girlfriend that he’s probably only been open to because he thinks that I’m happy with someone else.

“That’s not the sort of person I want to be.  That’s not who I am.  When we go back to school, I am going to make friends with his girlfriend, whoever she is.  I am going to be Harry’s friend as a real friend and try as be as open to him as he has been to me.  I am going to accept his girlfriend and try and become friends with her.  I am not going to become some sort of jealous shrew.

“I have no automatic right to Harry.  I want Harry to be happy, to be supported, to be loved.  I always thought that it was going to be me doing it, but it hasn’t worked out.  So I am not going to lose his friendship.  I am going to try and be as big as a friend to him as he is trying to be to me.”

Molly walked over and pulled her daughter into a massive hug.  “I am so proud of you,” she whispered softly.

Ginny smiled tremulously.  “I am still upset about it, but by the time I get back to Hogwarts, I swear that I will be okay about it.”

Ginny stood, moving from her mother’s arms.  “I’m going to go back to sleep for a bit.”

The others watched as Ginny walked out.

“I still think that Harry would be better off with Ginny,” Ron announced stubbornly.  “She’s amazing.”

“She is,” Hermione agreed, “but Ron, we have to accept that Harry has made a choice.”

“A choice where he didn’t have the full facts!”

“Mr Potter, Mr Lupin,” the Goblin welcomed them into his office.  “We’ll keep this as short as possible.  Mr Black left a message for you both in this Pensieve.”

Harry and Remus looked at each other and reached out to touch the silver memory strands.

There was a brief sensation of falling, as the two of them entered Sirius’ Memories.

“Harry, Moony,” the image of Sirius Black said happily.

“What’s with the sad faces?  You’d think you were at the reading of a Will or something.  Oh, wait, you are, mine!

“Happy Death Day to me, Happy Death Day to me, Happy Death Day dear Sirius, Happy Death Day to me!” he sang merrily.  “Come on, join in.

“Oh, wait, you can’t, you’re not really here, are you.  You can talk to each other, but not to me.  Oh well, if that’s the biggest problem I have with being dead, then I’ll be very happy.

“So, I’ve passed on.  Sirius is no more, I’ve ceased to be, expired and gone to meet my maker.  I’m a stiff, bereft of life, resting in peace, pushing up daisies; my metabolic processes are now history.  I’m off my twig, kicked the bucket, shuffled off the mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisible.  I am an Ex-Padfoot!!

“Oh please, tell me you recognised Monty Python?  They were the finest group of Muggle comedians ever to exist.  Besides, I never wanted to be a convict; I wanted to be a lumberjack.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.

“Harry, as part of my will, I want you to promise to watch some Monty Python and learn to laugh.  It’s an important lesson to learn –  watch the Life of Brian and pay attention to the ending.

“Okay, I’ll be Sirius for a bit.  Yeah, I had to get one last Sirius/Serious joke in here somewhere.

“Moony, we swore when we entered Hogwarts that we would be friends for life.  We managed it.  I will never find as good a friend as you and James were.  I was thankful every single day of my life for both of you and for Lily when she joined in.  Every good memory I have is of you, Lily, James, and Harry.

“Harry, I loved you from the minute you were born.  I took you on your first broomstick ride when you were three weeks old, and Lily hexed me out of the house for it, but it was worth it.  You are an amazing kid, and I know without hesitation or doubt that James and Lily are looking down at you, as proud as any parent up there.

“Now, knowing both of you, you’re probably blaming yourselves for my death.  So listen very carefully, I shall say this once.  I don’t care if you stood by and watched as Voldemort Imperio’d me off a cliff.  You Did Not Kill Me!

“More than likely, Voldemort killed me or arranged it.  So, Harry, if it comes up, and you get the chance, kill the arsehole.  Don’t worry about killing a human; he lost his humanity a long time ago.

“Remus, the same goes for you.  But your job is to keep Harry alive and to make sure he can enjoy what I’m leaving you both.

“Everything.   Split fifty-fifty.  You’re both to do your very best to waste my fortune on the important things in life - having fun for the rest of your lives.

“When you both eventually die, and Harry; that better not be for a very long time, I want to hear stories about pranks pulled, fun had, and the establishment mocked.

“Oh, as I’m running out of time, find a way to destroy that painting in Grimmauld place.  And deal with Kreacher as well, please; I don’t care how you do it.  He is partly responsible for a lot of what has happened in my family.

“Well guys, glad you both came to say good bye to little old me.  And Harry, remember this.”

He started to sing again, “Some things in life are bad.  They can really make you mad.  Other things just make you swear and curse.  When you're chewing on life's gristle.  Don't grumble, give a whistle.  And this'll help things turn out for the best... And... always look on the bright side of life... Always look on the light side of life...”

The memory faded, and they found themselves back out of the Pensieve.  They both had identical tear tracks running down their faces but had smiles as well.

“Only Sirius,” Remus mumbled.

“I agree,” Harry mumbled.

They signed the rest of the paperwork, and were told that the Goblins would send Malcom an owl with all the details of what they had inherited.

They took a Portkey back to Parkinson manor where the Parkinsons and Tonks were waiting for them.

“Oh Harry,” Pansy cried, moving first.  She ran over to him and pulled him into a huge hug.  A second later, he was crying onto her shoulder.

Tonks moved over and hugged Remus.  He seemed a little more in control but clung to her as tightly as Harry was clinging to Pansy.

A few minutes later, they sat in the library.  Remus and Tonks were sitting next to each other, Malcom and Gruoch as well, while Pansy was sitting firmly on Harry’s lap and showed no sign at all of moving.

“Sirius left us everything.  I have to watch some Monty Python and work out a way of destroying the painting of his mother in Grimmauld Place,” Harry said quietly.  “And we have to try and waste his fortune having fun.”

Remus nodded in agreement.  “A typical Sirius Will if you can call it that.”

Harry slowly started to smile, as an idea occurred to him.  “There’s going to be an election soon, isn’t there?”

“There is,” Malcom agreed.

“I was thinking that Remus would make a wonderful Minister of Magic.”

The other members of the room all acquired identical looks of shock.

“But I’m a werewolf,” Remus exclaimed.  While at the same time, Malcom said something very similar.

“Fudge is going to sign a Bill announcing that Werewolves are allowed to run for office to show how open minded he is - Malcom, that’s your job,” Harry said calmly.  “You need to persuade Fudge that it will get him elected again.

“With a month to go, we’ll announce Remus’ candidacy in a low key fashion. He’ll pretty much be ignored as a special interest token candidate.  I’m expecting there to be a Death Eater candidate as well as Fudge.  Anyone else, we’ll need to find their weakness and exploit it so that they pull out.  I want a three horse race.”

“And then?” Remus asked softly.

“With a week to go, we’ll arrange for the Death Eater to be exposed publicly, and at the same time, go for a massive attack on Fudge.  We’ll show that he’s been financially and morally corrupt, and then start that court case against Umbridge, discrediting him for appointing her.  I want there to be no time for anyone else to declare themsevles, so that people only have one candidate they can vote for.  The day before the election, we’ll release to the Press some of Remus’ history, and I’ll publicly endorse him.”

“Harry, you’re talking about manipulating the Wizarding World.”

“Why yes, I am,” Harry agreed.  “Your point?”

“Are you insane?” Tonks asked, gaping at Harry.

“Would I know if I was?” Harry grinned back.  “I don’t think so.”

“He’s not insane,” Pansy said firmly, a proud look on her face.  It was a look that was warming Harry internally, as he realised he enjoyed having someone to be proud of him like that.

“The difference between insanity and genius is judged by success,” Gruoch said dryly.  “Why did you choose Remus?”

“Because you and Malcom both would prefer to be in the shadows to start with, and you’d both be serious candidates.  We need Remus to look like he’s doing it to make a point, not because he expects to win.  We want Fudge and the Death Eater candidate to underestimate him and concentrate on battling each other.

“And Remus will help end this stupid superiority complex wizards have, a werewolf as Minister? Those that don’t have an apoplectic fit will be more welcome to the Emancipation of the House Elves Act and the Magical Creatures Equality Act he can introduce.”

“So, Remus,” Malcom said slowly, “how do you fancy being our exalted leader?”

“If I do it, you do know that I’m going to do the best job I can and not be swayed by anyone?”

“Of course,” Malcom said.  “I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.  I’d rather have a competent, honest man in office than an incompetent, corrupt man.  We’ll give you some major backing when Harry launches his publicity blitz; we’ll pull on board everyone who owes us a favour.”

“I still think that you’re insane Harry, but sure, let’s do it.”

Harry grinned.  “Of course, having a steady relationship will help with the public impressions.”

Remus groaned and turned to Tonks.  “Ignoring the interfering git over there, will you please go out with me officially?  Not for the office, or because of his bloody teasing, but because I really like you.”

“Go out?  What, are we back at Hogwarts?” Tonks teased.

“I taught there,” Remus complained.  “I picked up their lingo.  It’s Harry’s fault.”

Harry snorted elegantly.

“Yes,” Tonks laughed.  “I will go out with you.”  She leaned in and kissed Remus gently.

“Yeah!” Harry cheered loudly.

“Sirius wanted a prank with his money and can you think of a bigger prank than putting Remus in power?”

Malcom slowly smiled -- a smile that was echoed around the room.

“No, Harry,” Remus said slowly, “I can’t think of a bigger prank than that.  He’d be laughing himself sick.”

“So, how are you really feeling?” Pansy asked when they were alone that night.

“Tired,” Harry sighed softly.  “It was hard seeing Sirius again, so full of life.”

Pansy nodded.  “And why are you taking that cow Umbridge to court?”

Harry sighed sadly and raised his hand.

She took it and blinked, seeing the scars.  “She did this to you?”

“In detention.  What I wrote was etched into my hand.”

“Harry,” she said firmly, shocked that someone would dare do that to Harry Potter and horrified that someone would do that to her Harry.  “I know you’re going to take her to court, but that’s not enough.  No one does this to you.  I’m going to make her life hell.”  The look on her face would have caused Voldemort to have second thoughts.

“You know, you’re a little scary when you look like that,” Harry said.

“You’re not the one who needs to be scared,” she smiled, losing the look as quickly as she had gained it.  She looked up into his eyes.  As tenderly as she could, she pulled his hand up and softly kissed his scars, and then kissed his fingers.

She lightly pushed him back onto the bed, moving him so he was against the pillows, and crawled on top of him, resting her hands on his chest, and her chin on her hands so she could look up at him.

“Do you have any idea how proud of you I am?” she asked him seriously.  “Since your birthday, you’ve been making decisions, coming up with amazing plans, and living up to your promise.

“You are amazing.”  She paused and took a deep breath.

“I love you, Harry Potter.”

He opened his mouth, but she reached up and lightly placed her finger to his lips.  “You don’t have to say anything now, Harry.  I know that you’re not ready to.  That’s not why I told you.

“I told you because I want you to know, without a doubt, that there is at least one person out there who thinks of you as the most important person in her life.  And who thinks of you as Harry, not as the Boy Who Lived, or anything else.

“I want you to know that I will always be right there next to you, and I will always make sure that you are never alone.  I love you, Harry, for the boy you have been, and the man you are becoming.  I love you for protecting me, for fighting for me, for forcing me to fly again, for making me laugh, for giving me a reason to change, for giving me a reason to grow as well.

“Now, when you are ready and you feel it, you can tell me that you love me back.  Until then, I’ll wait.”

She looked up and into his bright green eyes.  They were swimming with emotions, gratitude, and something else, something that would sooner or later be love for her.  But what she didn’t see pleased her as much.  The signs of depression were gone and replaced with something that looked like awe.

“But what you can do,” she whispered, “is kiss me.”

He smiled at her, and his hands reached down, and with an ease that thrilled her, he lifted her off his body and slid her up along his body until she was hovering over his head.  “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“I meant it,” she said.

“I know,” he replied, slowly lowering her.  He held her still, brushing feather-soft kisses over her lips, before he lowered her completely, wrapped his arms around her back, and rolled her over.  He kissed her repeatedly and seemed to be trying to say something with his kisses that he couldn’t say in words.

Pansy let her hands roam into his hair, holding him close, and knew, without doubt, that sooner or later he would admit that he loved her, and for him, that would be the final commitment.

On their next day off, Pansy and Harry went to Grimmauld Place.  Remus and Tonks had told them that it was unoccupied, as the Order was currently using a different base for their operations.

“So this is where you stayed last summer?” Pansy sniffed, not looking too impressed.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.  “I stayed in a room with Ron upstairs.  Sirius was here with Buckbeak all summer; I think he almost went mad with boredom.  We did a lot of things wrong.”

He smiled slightly, “It was also here that I realised Ginny had grown up.  She was curled up on the couch, and I noticed the firelight in her eyes.”

“Should I be jealous?” Pansy asked.

Harry shook his head.  “Nope.  I’m just reminiscing.  Things could have happened between us, maybe, but you never know.  It could have been weird with her being Ron’s sister and everything.  But that doesn’t matter, anyway; she’s with Dean, and me?”  He paused, and turned, lightly crowding her against a wall.  “I have this gorgeous girl with long brown hair, mysterious grey eyes, and extremely kissable lips, who loves me.  Would I give her up?”

He dropped his head down and kissed her lingeringly.  “Not for anything.”

She smiled against his lips.  “I’m glad, because I’ve seen her Bat Bogey Hex, and I don’t want to get into a fight with her.”

He laughed, “I heard about that.”

“I could have kissed her,” Pansy grinned.  “I’d wanted to curse Draco for so long.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t,” Harry replied.  “Because then I’d have the girl I’m currently falling for with the girl that I might have, and I’d be alone.”

“And we couldn’t have that,” Pansy replied, kissing him deeply again.

A few minutes later, with Harry’s hair distinctly more mussed than usual, they approached the curtain covering the portrait of Mrs Black.

Without ceremony, Harry ripped it open.

“Oh, it’s you,” the portrait sniffed.  “And who’s your filthy trollop?”

Pansy glared at the portrait.  “Parkinson,” she said in an ice-cold voice.  “And I’ll think you’ll find that my bloodline doesn’t contain any imperfections unlike your great uncle, the Muggle.”

The painting seemed to pale.  “You’re Malcom and Gruoch’s child?”

“Indeed,” Pansy sneered.  “And you’re nothing more than a filthy Mudblood.”

“How dare you!” Mrs Black thundered.

“I dare, Mudblood, because unlike you, we did not tolerate that sort of nonsense in our family.  Harry, this painting is useless, you’ll have to remove it.”

“You can’t take me down,” Mrs Black said scornfully.  “No one can!”

“Who said anything about taking you down?  Harry owns this place now, and I like your frame.”

“So my good-for-nothing son is dead.  Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“One of the things I’ve learnt recently,” Harry said, entering the conversation, “is that revenge is good for the soul.  My soul in particular.  I hated you last year – now I have contempt for you.  Sirius’ last wish was that you be destroyed, and I’m going to do that.”

“And how are you going to do that, half-blood?”

Harry smiled and lifted up a can.  “Muggles are fascinating,” he told her cheerfully.  “And so inventive.  This is turpentine, otherwise known as paint remover.”

“You can’t!” Mrs Black said, going white again.

Harry dipped a brush into the can and passed it to Pansy and pulled out another one himself.  “Oh, I think we can.”

“Kreacher!” Mrs Black bellowed.

A dirty, twisted house elf appeared.  “What is sir doing?” he snivelled.

“Destroying this painting,” Harry replied calmly, testing it on the bottom corner.  He smiled as the paint vanished.

“Sir can’t be doing that,” Kreacher said.

“Oh, I can,” Harry said without looking at him.  “With Sirius dead, I own this place.  And as Sirius asked for this painting to be destroyed, we’re going to do that now.”

“Kreacher is glad Black is dead,” the elf muttered to himself.

“Stop them, Kreacher,” Mrs Black shouted.

Kreacher raised his hand, slowly, “Mistress give command,” he mumbled and threw a curse at Harry.

The curse never arrived, as with a pop Dobby appeared between them, catching the spell casually.

“How dare Filthy Kreacher attack Harry Potter,” Dobby spat, obviously incensed.  “Harry Potter is a great and powerful wizard; is friend to all house-elves, and Filthy Kreacher try and break that friendship?

“Filthy Kreacher has been warned, now Dobby will be dealing with Filthy Kreacher.”

“Kreacher is sorry,” the old elf cried, falling to his knees and grovelling.

“Dobby doesn’t care,” Dobby replied harshly.  “Dobby has called for Council meeting.  Council will decide fate of elf that attacks Master.”

“No,” Kreacher cried, as Dobby walked up to him, grabbed him by the ear, and popped away.

“Have I mentioned that Dobby’s wonderful?” Pansy asked.

“Not to him,” Harry grinned.  “You might want to do that.”

“I think I will,” Pansy laughed.  “I’m glad you invited him.”

“I thought that Kreacher might cause a problem, but I am going to have to ask about this Elf Council though.  It seems that we know so little about how house-elves operate.”  Harry commented as he reached down and loaded the paintbrush with turpentine.

“Stop, I command you,” Mrs Black shouted.

“I think,” Harry said to Pansy casually, “that this will be a lot easier after I do this.”  He moved the paintbrush and carefully removed the painting’s mouth.  He smiled happily as Mrs Black lost the ability to talk.

“Perfect,” Pansy agreed.

Together they set to work, and it took them less than thirty minutes for Mrs Black to become a mess on the floor.

“I think it needs one more touch,” Pansy said, looking at the now black canvass.

She reached out with her wand and left a small message in red letters.

“Thank you,” Harry said, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend.  “Let’s go home and go for a ride.  Maybe we can watch the sunset together.”

“I’d like that, Harry.”

Minerva McGonagall waked into the Headmaster’s office, and sat down opposite him.

“Good morning,” Albus smiled.

“Good morning, Albus,” Minerva said formally.

“What can I do for you on this lovely day?”

“Albus, I must protest once more about Severus’ behaviour.  It is simply unfair on the rest of the students that he practises such an appalling bias in his actions, and it makes a mockery of the House Points institution.”

“Now, Minerva, it’s not that bad,” Albus said lightly.

“In the past four years, Severus has taken nine hundred and forty two points from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor.  In the same period, he has removed forty-eight from Slytherin.  He has given one hundred and six points to the other houses, and one thousand two hundred and thirteen to his own.

“It is appalling that he has been allowed to get away with this.  And let’s not talk about his attitude.  We are here as educators, yet we are producing generations of people who hate Potions as a subject, except for his Slytherins, obviously.”

“I am aware of the situation,” Albus said firmly.

“What are you doing about it?” Minerva demanded.

“I will talk to Severus.”

Minerva rolled her eyes.  “You can talk to him all you want.  While you are there, you can tell him that he will not be teaching Harry Potter potions this year.  I have decided to tutor him myself in the subject.  I will offer the same to any of my students who desire to study potions but will not do so under Severus.

“Filius and Ponoma are offering a similar scheme to their students.”

“You will do no such thing,” Dumbledore said, leaning forwards.

“I already have permission from the Governors,” Minerva replied a bit testily.  “I have given you many years to sort this mess out, Albus, and you have failed to act.  At every opportunity you have pushed Harry to work with Severus to Harry’s detriment.  I will not see a fine student wasted due to a Professor, a Professor who is a supposed adult, holding a grudge against the boy’s parents for actions long before the boy was born.”

“It is important that Severus continues to help Harry.”

“Not any more,” Minerva replied firmly.  “Severus has had his chance and has failed.

“I find myself in the unusual position of losing respect for you, Albus.  You have been blind to Severus’ faults for too many years, and I will not stand for it anymore.  The future of our students is more important than what ever you hope to get out of Severus.

“You can, of course, use your powers as Headmaster to override the governors.  I sincerely hope that you do not follow that path.  If you do, I shall be forced to seriously consider my position at Hogwarts.”

With a firm nod, Minerva stood and marched out of the Headmasters office, suddenly feeling relieved that she had finally broached the subject that had been bothering her for so many years.

She had an inbuilt sense of fair play, and Severus’ behaviour had been far beyond that.  The other two heads of house had agreed that this year any points taken by Severus would be examined in great detail, and any found unfair or over the top would be reinstated.  They had considered treating Slytherins like Snape treated Gryffindor, but they had decided that they should not be punishing the children for Snape’s behaviour, and that they did not want to sink to his level.

It had taken her a long time to reach the stage when she felt that she had to go behind the Headmaster’s back, but her protests each year had fallen on vague promises to deal with the issue.

She didn’t know why Albus protected Snape like he did, and why he forced Harry to work with him, and she didn’t care any more.  Harry’s future, when all this Voldemort stuff was dealt with, was more important than the settling of old grudges.

She entered her suite and made herself a cup of tea.  She sat down in her favourite arm chair and picked up the potions book she was currently studying.  She was determined that any pupil taking her class would out perform Severus’.

“Harry,” Pansy called, walking into the bedroom.  Harry was lounging on the bed, engrossed in a book.

“Yes?” he asked, folding the corner of the page he was reading.

“You know we have bookmarks for that sort of thing?”

Harry grinned.  “What’s up?”

She held up the parchment in her hand.  “Daphne wants to come round for the afternoon.”

“Does she know what you look like normally?”

“No, I’ve not told her.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I was thinking of confessing to her.  She was my best friend at Hogwarts,” she added the distinction, hoping he’d realise that he was her best friend otherwise.  “And she’s pretty good in a fight, so she could help us out.”

“Do you trust her?”

Pansy nodded.  “I do; she hates Draco, and that’s always a good start.  She knows I hate him as well, and she’s helped me deal with him.”

“So you’re going to tell her everything and hope she joins us?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Harry said, “but if she says no, we are going to have to Obliviate her.”

“I know,” Pansy said with a smile.  “She’s due this afternoon.  We’re going to have to be careful to make sure that she doesn’t run into any other versions of us running around.”

“As we haven’t seen her, we did, and she didn’t,” Harry said dryly.

“What, no complaints about a headache?”

Harry grinned, “I’ve accepted it now.”

“When is she due?”

“A couple of hours.”

“Good,” Harry said, suddenly on his feet.

“Oh?” Pansy asked warily.

“Yep, good,” Harry replied, stalking towards her.

“Why is it good?”

“Because it gives me plenty of time.”

“Plenty of time?”

“Yes,” he agreed as he pounced forwards suddenly, catching her.  He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her easily.  “Plenty of time to see how many times I can kiss you.”

“Oh,” Pansy smiled.  “’kay.”

He lowered her onto the bed and lived up to his word by spending an hour kissing her.

“It’s good to see you again, Quality,” Daphne said with a smile.

“I told you not to call me that,” Pansy groaned, hoping that Harry couldn’t hear the nickname.

“You were the one who turned up at the Ball looking like a Muggle confectionery,” Daphne countered.

“Sit down, Daph,” she told the slim blonde.  “We need to talk.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got a confession,” Pansy sighed.  She sat down as well, leaning forwards.  It had never occurred to her when she had first worn the glamour spell that she would have to confess to her best friend about it later.  It wasn’t until Harry had pointed out that her friends might be upset that she had lied to them that she had looked at it from the other side of the coin.

Daphne raised one of her elegantly perfect eyebrows inquiringly.  “Go on.”

“This isn’t what I really look like,” she confessed quickly.  “I’ve been wearing a glamour spell because I wanted to make friends for who I am, not how I look, and because I wanted to hide from Draco.”

“What do you look like?” Daphne said coldly, her body language closing.

Pansy winced and moved her hand to her wand, using it to remove the glamour spell.

“You’ve looked like this the entire time I’ve know you, and you didn’t tell me?” Daphne shouted.  “You’ve lied to me the entire time we’ve been friends?”

“But...”

“Don’t interrupt,” Daphne spat.  “Is this your idea of friendship?  I’m shocked, horrified, hurt, betrayed.

“Or at least I would be if I hadn’t known since the second year,” she finished smugly, in a calm voice.

“What!?”

“You may be able to fool Draco sweetie, but he’s an inbred idiot.  Did you really think you would be able to spend all these years at Hogwarts and not be found out?”

“Well, yes,” Pansy said, her stomach suddenly unclenching, “I did.”

“I was suspicious in the first year,” Daphne explained.  “So in the second year, when Brown and Patil brought up glamour spells to hide spots, I suddenly wondered if that was what you were doing.  I cast a spell to let me see through them, and I saw you properly for the first time.

“I was annoyed with you for some time.”

“So that’s why you suddenly ignored me!”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to break your secret, but I was still upset you didn’t trust me.  But then I remembered that we’re Slytherin, and that’s our way, so I forgave you.”

“And you’ve known all this time?”

“Evidently,” Daphne said dryly.  “It was kinda fun, especially watching Draco ignore you when I knew that if he had an inkling of what you really looked like, he’d chase you harder than he chased me.”

“We do work well together,” Pansy smiled, relaxing now.

“It’s not hard to play with the idiot boy.”

“Well, while I’m confessing, I’ve got another one for you.”

“Don’t tell me,” Daphne said.  “You’ve fallen in love with Harry Potter.”

“How did you know?” Pansy asked, feeling herself go pale.

Daphne looked at her, and then shook her head.  “What!?” she squeaked.

“How did you know that?”

“I was joking!  You can’t be in love with Harry Potter!”

“I am,” she said quietly.

“But... but...” Daphne stuttered, completely stunned.  “You... Harry... But I was joking.  Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m afraid not,” Pansy said.  Now that she realised it had been a sarcastic comment, she started to enjoy her best friend being lost for words.  “Harry’s brave, honourable, gorgeous, a pretty good dancer, looks great in a tux, loyal to the end of the world, and is a great kisser.”

“He’s a what?!” Daphne screamed, her face showing total shock.  “How the hell can you know he’s a great kisser; you couldn’t have time to kiss him last year?”

“Funny story,” Pansy grinned, now enjoying herself.  “Dad had a falling out with Lucius, who then went running to Voldemort,” she noticed that Daphne paled at her use of that name and remembered that other people didn’t normally go around speaking of him.  “So we had a meeting. Dad and Dumbledore don’t get on, we can’t back Voldemort because we’d lose everything and I might have to marry toad-face, so we went to see Harry.

“He was in a bad state, so we stole him, brought him here, and I fell in love with him.  Oh, and we helped him deal with a few of his problems and hired a few tutors to make sure he can defeat Voldemort.”

“...” Daphne tried to say, before shaking herself.  “Okay, now tell me the real story.”

“That pretty much was the abridged version,” she said.  “Look, you can’t tell anyone what’s going on.”

“I gathered that,” Daphne replied.  “I’ve kept your secret for four years, and I always will.”

“Thanks,” Pansy said gratefully, smiling at her friend.

“You know that you’ve changed?”

“In what way?”

“You’re smiling a lot more, and you seem content.”

“That’s all Harry’s doing,” she admitted.  “Being with him up close, and realising just how impressive he is, forced me to grow up.  I wanted him from the start, but he wasn’t ready for a relationship, so I’ve had to be patient and let him get to know me first.  The strange thing was that I got to know him as well and realised that if I didn’t change, I wouldn’t have a chance.

“All the time I’ve spent with him made me realise that I had the opportunity of my life, that I could actually get my hands on my prince, but I had to make sure that I could be what he needed as well.  He deserves everything.

“There’s a prophecy that Dumbledore knows, that says that Harry is the only person alive who can kill Voldemort, and that one of them has to kill the other.”

Daphne gaped at her again.

“He’s powerful, really powerful; we’re friends with a house-elf, and I’ll tell you about that later, and the house-elf says that Harry is one of the three most powerful men in existence at sixteen.  The other two are Voldemort and Dumbledore.

“He’s also just inherited the Black family fortune from his godfather, Sirius.”

“The one who died at the end of term?”

“Yeah.  So, now he’s rich, powerful, handsome and intelligent.  Can you imagine Draco with those attributes?”

“Well, toad-face’s rich,” Daphne said with a shudder.

“Yeah, well, Harry is the exact opposite of toad-face.  He is still the most honest, humble, self-effacing person I’ve ever met.  He would still give everything he has to help any of his friends.”

“You are really in love with him, aren’t you?  You’re glowing!”

Pansy nodded, so pleased that she could finally gossip about Harry to someone her own age.

“Let me start at the beginning,” she said.

An hour later, with many questions answered, she finished with, “And then he kissed me like he was trying to pour his soul into me.”

“Wow,” Daphne said, collapsing back into the chair.  “That’s so romantic!”

“I know,” Pansy sighed happily.  “Want to meet him?”

“Sure, I’ll perform the girlfriend test for you.”

“No need,” Pansy smiled.  “This is Harry we’re talking about.”

Daphne watched as her friend walked out to get Harry.  Pansy had been her friend for her entire time at Hogwarts, and she was very glad she had her.  While she was rich herself, her parents spent all of their time in other countries; they were curse hunters, who specialised in tracking down rare and obscure curses.  They had left her growing up with a series of Nannies.  She was pretty sure she had been put into Slytherin because she was determined to make her parents notice her one day.

She had spent most of the summer so far with her parents, as she was now sixteen, but even then they had treated her more like an old acquaintance than an actual daughter, so she had come home and Owled Pansy the next day.

And now her best friend was in love with a Gryffindor – not that his House really mattered.  She knew about him, as much as everyone in school did, but didn’t really know him.  Pansy was her best friend, and she deserved to know if her boyfriend could be trusted or not.

She absently undid the top few buttons of her shirt and applied a quick glamour spell to give herself some red lipstick.  She’d yet to meet any boy who could resist looking at her chest, or stuttering when she used her looks to get what she wanted.  It had helped her with homework many times.

“Daphne, meet Harry Potter.  Harry, this is my best friend, Daphne Greengrass.”

“Hi,” Harry said casually.

Daphne looked him up and down and licked her lips.  Damn, but the boy had changed, and she actually felt jealous of Pansy for a brief second; who wouldn’t want a powerful dark haired man with brilliant green eyes?

“Hi,” she simpered, throwing her long blonde hair back.  She stood and sashayed over to him.  “It’s good to finally meet you.”

Harry’s face seemed to go blank, as he lost all expression.  “It’s nice to meet you too,” he said, his voice as emotionless as his face.

She leant forwards, watching his eyes.  They flicked towards Pansy, and then met hers again.  “Why don’t you come and sit by me,” she whispered breathily, “and tell me about your summer?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said evenly.  “I’m afraid that I’ve got a prior appointment I can’t miss.”  She watched him throw a look at Pansy before turning on his heel.

“Damn,” she said out loud.  “Harry, stop.  I’m sorry.”

He paused and turned to look at her.  She grabbed her wand and removed the glamour spell.  “Pansy told me not to do it, but I couldn’t help it.”

“Help what?” he asked, looking confused.

“The girlfriend test,” she explained hastily.  “You see how your girlfriend’s boyfriend reacts to you flirting with him.  Most guys fold like a pack of cards instantly.  I just wanted to check that you were serious about Pansy.”

“You could have just asked,” Harry said, emotion returning to his face in the form of a scowl.

She winced.  “Can we please start again? Please.”

Harry flicked his eyes over at Pansy.

“Please,” she heard Pansy ask.

“Harry Potter,” he said dryly, holding out his hand.

“Daphne Greengrass,” she replied.  “Professional inserter of foot into mouth.”

Harry smiled slightly and sat on the side of Pansy’s bed.  Pansy walked over and sat next to him, and he wrapped an arm around her.

“You two look cute,” she grinned.

Pansy smiled back.  “I told you that wasn’t necessary.”

“I know, Pan, but you’ve never been serious about a boy before,” she explained.  “And I wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“Daphne,” Harry called, and as she looked up, she felt his eyes seem to bore into her, bypassing her defences.

“Can I trust you?” he asked, his voice soft, verging on the hypnotic.

“Yes,” she answered honestly, unable to even think of lying.  She felt like she’d confess anything with him looking at her like he was.

He nodded and blinked, and she felt herself returning to normal.  “What the hell was that?”

Pansy smirked.  “Didn’t I mention that he was powerful?”

“Well, yeah, but...”

“You’ve just been the recipient of what I like to call the Truth Stare.”

“Pansy,” Harry groaned.

“Oh shush, sweetie,” Pansy grinned.  “You might not think of yourself as anything really special, but I do.  Now let me boast about you for bit.”

Harry smiled slightly, and then kissed her hard, running his hands down her back.

He pulled away, and Daphne could see that her friend was in a daze.  “Wow, that works on her as well,” he grinned.  He looked over at a smirking Daphne, and blushed slightly.  “Sorry, she did that to me the other day, and it was very effective at getting me to shut up.”

“So Harry,” Daphne said, smiling a little.  “What’s a Gryffindor doing with a Slytherin?”

Harry moved up the bed, pulling Pansy with him, and settled down.  She felt her smile grow as Pansy draped herself over his side, so she could join in the conversation, and watched as Harry absently started to play with Pansy’s hair.

“I really don’t like that,” he said.  “I’m not getting at you, but I’m getting pretty fed up with the school being four separate islands.  And while there are bridges between some of the houses, they are not all connected in a way they should be.

“The school house system should be to encourage friendly competition and to encourage good behaviour.  It shouldn’t be the basis of all out war.  It shouldn’t be divisive.  I think that we need to have a talk with the Sorting Hat and try and persuade it to change its ways.

“This segregation of people with similar traits into the same house is counter-productive.  It reinforces certain character traits and diminishes others.  Students should graduate from Hogwarts with well-rounded personalities, not just with some overpowering aspects.

“If you look at the current crop of students, you’ve got Hufflepuffs who are scared of their own shadows and so timid, they wouldn’t say boo to a ghost, but at the same time will help anyone who needs it.  They’d make perfect nurses and carers.

“Then you have the Ravenclaws who are perfect for research jobs and for being doctors and the like.

“And that leaves Gryffindors and Slytherins for everything else.  We are much more alike than we would ever admit, but if you look, it takes courage and brains to do what both houses want, and while the Slytherin is supposedly based on ambition, it comes down to the same thing.

“It’s like the purpose of the school is to prejudge the future of the students, to lock them into character roles and make them play them forever.  And it seems to be getting worse.  At least in our parents’ days, a relationship between a Ravenclaw and a Slytherin only meant some teasing; nowadays it’s almost looked on as taboo.

“Well, I’m not going to stand for it.  I’m going to break down the walls between the houses.  I want the school unified, and I’ll do what ever it takes to accomplish that.”

“Old Merlin on a bike,” Daphne cursed slowly, shaking her head.  It hadn’t just been his words; it had been the way his eyes had gleamed with purpose.

“Are you serious?” Daphne asked.

“Absolutely,” Harry replied evenly.

“So, is there a secret handshake?”

“A what?”

“A secret handshake, or maybe a t-shirt – you know, something to identify us as your back-up crew.”

Pansy laughed. “Typical: wave a revolution in front of a Slytherin and the first thing they do is ask to sign up.”

“What about you?” Daphne asked with a grin.

“I’ve already promised to follow Harry into Hell, if necessary; I’ll be standing next to him on the battlefield and making sure he lives through it.  Hogwarts? That’s merely something to keep him busy.”

Harry laughed. “Well, yeah.  Things have changed, Daphne.  I’m not who I was, and I’m not yet who I will be.  But I like the path I’m on.”

“The White Knight,” Daphne said slowly.  “You are the perfect White Knight.”

Harry started to blush, “I’m just me,” he protested.

“Sir Galahad was a White Knight, Joan of Arc, Don Quixote, Godric Gryffindor, and there are loads more throughout history,” Daphne said, now convinced of her words.  “White Knights are modest, they expect nothing in return for their good deeds, and they are givers.  They are the anonymous philanthropists who share their wealth, maybe by setting up their friends with a joke shop.  They share their time, their energy, and their life with others and their only reward is to be allowed to do it.

“You’re merciful, sympathetic, helpful, giving and heroic, but you’re not perfect.  You’re impulsively decisive, overly sentimental and misdirected.”

“But what happens if a Grey Queen falls for the White Knight, and helps him change?” Pansy asked softly.

Daphne thought for a second, running the scenario through her mind.  She almost smiled as she realised she was conditioned to think in terms of Hogwarts Houses.  What would happen if the Gryffindor took on some Slytherin perspectives?  And what would happen to the Slytherin as well?

They would no longer be either anymore.  They wouldn’t be able to look at the world in such black and white terms.  The grey would lighten, and the white would acquire a faint darkness.

“Then the White Knight acquires the edge he needs to ensure that he doesn’t die tilting at windmills,” she said, as she finished her ruminations.  “And I pity the Death Eaters that stand in your way.”

“Why don’t we go riding?” Harry said suddenly.

“Because I’m really comfy?” Pansy offered.

“You can sleep like that tonight if you want.”

“’Kay,” Pansy smiled brightly.

“Err, you two are sleeping together?”

“Sure,” Pansy said, absently taking off her jeans and searching for her Jodhpurs.  “You want to wear my spare pair?” she asked, as she pulled them out of a drawer.

“Sure,” Daphne said, a little shocked at how comfortable her friend was around Harry.  She hadn’t expected Pansy to be sleeping with him, and she realised she would have to get her alone very soon to make her spill all the interesting details.

“So, what did you think of her?”

“Nice, really; she’s just another student, you know.  Not a Slytherin or what ever.  Just another person.”

Pansy smiled.  “She really liked you.  You got to see the real Daphne, not the fake blonde act she likes to show everyone else.”

“How did you both fool Draco?”

Pansy smiled, absently pulling her t-shirt off.  “It was simple. Whenever Draco started driving me nuts, Daphne would wander by, smiling blankly.  Draco would then go straight after her, and then when she’d had enough, I’d go looking for my Drac-y-poo, and the game would go on.”

Harry laughed.

“I need a shower,” Pansy sighed.  “Sometimes, I really think I should get my hair cut.”

“What?”

“You’ve seen how long it takes me to look after it – it would be a lot easier if I just cut it all off.”

“You can’t do that,” Harry said firmly.  “I love your hair.”

“Fine,” Pansy sighed, “wait here.”  She walked into the bathroom and stripped off her underwear, jumping in to the shower.  It didn’t take her that long to wash and condition her hair.  She had absolutely no intention of cutting it off.  It was one of her best features, but she wasn’t adverse to a little manipulation here and there of her knight in slightly grey armour.

With her hair conditioned, and a thought accepted that she was going to have to get him into the shower with her soon, she pulled on a robe, rubbed her hair half dry with a towel, and walked back into the bedroom.

“Here,” she said, handing him a brush.  “You want me to keep it; you get to help looking after it.”

Harry smiled slowly, and then moved back onto the bed.  “You could have just asked,” he commented mildly.

“Where would the fun in that be?” Pansy asked, realising that he hadn’t been fooled at all.

He laughed.  “I have no idea.  What do I do?”

“Brush my hair, Harry, till it’s dry.”

He gestured her to sit in front of him, and he slowly started to stroke the brush through her hair.

“I’ve always loved having my hair played with,” she said softly.

“And I love playing with your hair,” he said back, one hand reaching out with his wand to dim the lights.

She closed her eyes, and sat as still as she could, luxuriating in the feel of his hands in a steady rhythm, brushing her hair slowly and surely.  His magic hands obviously worked on hair as well.

She frowned as she felt something, like an echo, a whisper of sound.  She concentrated and slowly it became louder.  “You’re broadcasting?” she half asked, half stated quietly.

“I know,” he replied calmly, not stopping his movements.

She breathed deeply, and used the feel of his hands to empty her mind completely, focusing on him and him alone.

She saw Daphne approach him, through his eyes, and felt his revulsion at the thought of anyone else touching him like that.  She felt that his confidence and ease with her didn’t mean it applied to anyone else.  He had wanted to curse her friend, to stop Daphne from worrying her.  Daphne was coming onto him, and all he had thought about was her.

She smiled, leaning her head back further.  He had made a realisation then, something inside him had changed, but she couldn’t see what; she couldn’t make out what he was trying to teach her.

“Relax,” he whispered.  “Let your mind go.  You don’t need Legilimens for this; it would be overkill.  Just sink into my thoughts – come into my mind.”

She did as she was told, pushing her mind towards his, feeling his welcoming touch, as he helped her along.

With her eyes firmly closed and the repetitive feel of his hands, she watched the memories he wanted to show her.  How he felt waking up next to her for the first time; how he had decided to trust her because he wanted a clean break from things.  How he had grown to understand her and her family.  How free he had felt riding Thunder for the first time.

And then the images changed, and like a slideshow, pictures of her started to appear.  Her running away from him, looking at him over his shoulder, pretending to be his girlfriend, dancing alone by the lake.

The pictures came faster; her at the top of the stairs, her changing in the Limo, her dancing with him, the look she gave him as she practically begged him to kiss her, and finally, her stripping her jeans off earlier today.

There was a feeling behind all these pictures, a message he was trying to pass to her.  It was something to do with his reaction to Daphne, and his reaction to her.

She gasped suddenly, her mind focusing, scouring his.  She felt him open up, completely without hesitation, in what was for him the ultimate expression of trust.

“You love me,” she whispered, awed.

She felt his response to the words he didn’t know how to say.

“If you feel it, just say it,” she whispered again.

“I don’t know if I can,” he replied.  “Everyone I love gets hurt.”

“That’s part of life Harry.  Pain is as important as pleasure.  Without one, the other is meaningless.  You have to live your life for you, not for others.  You can’t hide your feelings and hope that bad things don’t happen.  Bad things will happen, but if you’ve shown your love, at least you’ve had that happiness.  Live every moment.”

“How can you be so sure of yourself?”

“Because I have you.”

“I love you,” he whispered.  “You’re the first person I think of when I wake up and the last before I go to sleep. You inhabit my dreams and defeat my nightmares.  You’re my saviour and my reason.”

Pansy felt her own tears slide down her cheek, and she turned, straddling him and sitting on his lap.

As softly as she could, she took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his.  Inside his mind, she felt the response he had and knew he could feel hers.

She could see now that he admitted it to himself, and that it was over.  She had won.  Her prince had come; and what ever happened from here, she would never be alone again.  She could feel his reassurance and agreement, so she sent her own back.

‘I love you. Always.’

White Knight, Grey Queen

5 - Planning

“Morning,” Harry said, his arm around Pansy as they walked into the library where Malcom and Gruoch were having breakfast.

“Morning,” Malcom replied.  “We didn't expect to see you this morning.”

“I had another idea last night,” Harry smiled, sitting down on the couch.  Pansy immediately sat next to him and draped her legs over his lap.

“Another idea?” Gruoch smirked.  “Careful, Harry, you might hurt yourself.”

“Thank you,” Harry said dryly.  “Is Lucius Malfoy still a governor at Hogwarts?”

“Yes, he is,” Malcom said, as he placed his tray to one side and sat up attentively.

“I was just thinking that he probably isn't the best person to serve on the board, what with him being a convicted-then-pardoned Death Eater.  It would be much better if another respected member of a pure blood family took his place.  After all, the other members have already shown to be spineless when it comes to running the school.”

Malcom smiled slowly.  “You want me to take over from him?”

“Yes.  It will mean I have an ally at school where we need it, Voldemort's influence is negated, and Draco learns that Daddy will not be able to protect him.”

Malcom nodded thoughtfully.  “It's a good idea, actually, and will hide what we are doing with Remus, as people will think that I have what I want.  Gruoch, how do I get onto the Board?”

“It's normally a hereditary position.  Lucius received it from his father.  If we have him removed for being a convicted felon, which wouldn't be hard, you can be elected to replace him by the other eleven members.”

“Who are they?”

Gruoch paused, an expression of deep thought on her face.  “Two are related to us, four owe us a favour, and the other five are sheep.”

“Excellent,” Malcom said cheerfully.

Harry frowned, looking at Gruoch.

She laughed cheerfully.  “I forgot; you don't know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“That while Malcom's the businessman, I'm the one into politics.”

“No, I didn't,” Harry replied.  “But it does clear up what you do all day.”

“You could have just asked,” she teased.

“True,” Harry agreed.  “But didn't you have more fun telling me this way?”

“Yes,” Gruoch admitted.

Harry grinned at her and shrugged.  “So, how are we going to get rid of my Quidditch ban?”

“It will be easier with Malcom as governor; he can simply reverse it.  Her ban could only ever be enforced at Hogwarts, as she has no power any where else, and with a Governor overturning it, there is nothing anyone can do about it.”

“It will be good to play again.”

“Are you any good?” Malcom asked.

“Any good?” Pansy interrupted.  “Try the best.  He's a complete natural flyer, and he's only been defeated when some Dementors attacked him mid game.”

“Ahh yes,” Malcom said.  “Another one of Lucius' wonderful ideas.  Use the panic of Sirius escaping to put Dementors into Hogwarts.  I’ve really spent far too long playing with the Muggles.”

“You were having fun, dear,” Gruoch said calmly.  “And it's made you a lot of new friends, so you can't complain.  Your attention is back where it should be now, so let it go.”

“Yes, dear.”

“So what are you to planning for today?”

Harry stretched, “As little as possible.  Paddy worked us extra hard in our fitness classes, and I still haven't recovered.”

“But,” Pansy said with a grin, “he now has a very attractive six-pack.”

“And that makes it all worthwhile,” Gruoch said with a grin.

Harry and Pansy were lying on the bed together, reading.  Harry was engrossed in the SH21-76 US Army Rangers handbook, making notes in the margin, while Pansy was studying a book on Close Quarter combat, their homework for their Weapons and Tactics lessons.

An owl floated through the window and landed in front of Pansy, offering its leg.

Pansy smiled and unrolled the letter, opening it quickly.  She beamed as she read the contents.

“What's that?” Harry asked.

“My O.W.L. results, and the instructions for next year.”  She paused and then looked over at him.  “Of course, you can't get yours because no one knows where you are.”

Harry nodded.  “I can't send Hedwig, because she won't be able to come back.  I'll ask Dobby to go and get them for me; he should be able to avoid any trouble.

“Dobby,” he called.

“You called, Harry Potter sir?” Dobby said, appearing with a pop.

“Can you get my O.W.L. results from Professor McGonagall?” Harry asked.

“Dobby would be delighted,” the house-elf said, vanishing almost instantly.

Harry laughed to himself.  “How did you do?”

Pansy handed over her letter.

“An O in potions?” he noted.

“Strange that,” Pansy replied dryly.  “You'd think that Snape was biased or something.”

Minerva McGonagall sat comfortably in her chair, idly bouncing a letter in her hand.  She now had a problem - how to give Harry Potter his results and schedule for next year.  She knew now that an owl sent to him would come back with a confused look on its face.

Everyone else had received their letters.  She was tempted to Apparate down to Diagon Alley and get his books for him; it would certainly be the easiest way of doing it.

Her musings were interrupted by a small pop as a house-elf appeared in front of her.

“Dobby?” she asked, frowning.

Dobby nodded.  “Harry Potter asked Dobby to talks to Professor McGonagall because Harry Potter apologizes that you can't send his letter and asks that you gives that letter to Dobby instead.”

McGonagall nodded slowly, “How is Harry?”

“Harry Potter is a great and powerful wizard,” Dobby said solemnly.  “He is happy, he has good friends that he is being with this summer, he is now safe from the Filthy Muggles and Evil Snape.”

She smiled faintly at the honest opinion of the elf in front of her.  “Wait a second while I write him a quick letter,” she said.

Dobby nodded and sat down on the floor, obviously prepared to wait.

She walked over to her desk and pulled out a quill.

“Mr Potter,” she wrote.  “I just wanted to reassure you that I have not forgotten my promise to ensure that you become an Auror.

“As such, I will be tutoring you personally in potions.  I expect your complete concentration and commitment.”

She signed it with a flourish and handed the note, and his official school letter, to Dobby.

“Thank you,” Dobby said with a half bow and popped out of the room, leaving behind a slightly bewildered professor.

Harry looked at the hand written note in surprise; obviously, things had changed at the school as well.  The only problem was that his Head of House's offer was going to get in his way of dealing with Snape.

“I think I need to talk to Professor McGonagall,” he said.

“Why?” Pansy asked.

“She's offered to tutor me in potions and while that’s attractive, I want to deal with Snape personally.”

“How are you going to get there without anyone knowing?”

Harry grinned.  “Dobby,” he called.

After the elf had appeared, he dropped to the floor so that he was eye level with him.  “Do you know how Dumbledore seems to know everything that happens at Hogwarts?”

Dobby nodded eagerly.  “House-elves tell Dumbledore everything.”

Harry smiled – that was the answer he had hoped for.  “Second question.  How do you get through the wards at Hogwarts?”

“Wizard wards stop are only effective against Apparating,” Dobby explained.  “Apparating is a very fast method of travel.  House-elves use elf magic to move over distance, it allows elves to walk through wards.”

“Can you teach me?”

Dobby smiled, “Dobby expected Harry Potter to ask this.  Dobby has permission from the Elf Council to teach only you.”  He turned and looked at Pansy.  “Dobby is sorry, Mistress, but Dobby can only teach Harry Potter.”

Pansy smiled, “Don't worry about it, Dobby.  I'll go and spend some time with Mum.”

“Thanks, love,” Harry said, deliberately using a term of endearment for her, for the first time.  He was rewarded with one of the biggest smiles he'd ever seen from her, and he decided to use them a lot more in the future.  He watched as she walked out the door, and smiled as she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, and then added an extra swing to her hips.

“What is the Elf Council?”

Dobby folded his legs and sat down with Harry.  “The Elf Council is very old, but not used much.  A long time ago, before elves started serving wizards, the Elf Council was in charge of all elves, like the Ministry is for wizards.

“Elf Council membership is for the sons and daughters of members.  The Elf Council was last called many years ago, but Dobby asked for it to be reformed.  Others elves agree.  House-elves are no longer treated right by wizards.

“The Council have put Dobby in charge of being Harry Potter’s friend.  Dobby is to help Harry Potter defeat devil Voldemort.  So that Harry Potter will help all house-elves be free like Dobby.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully.  “Whatever you need, Dobby, I'll do.  I always help my friends.”

Dobby beamed.  “Dobby knows, all house-elves know.  The Council Elves have watched Harry Potter and seen Dobby’s memories.”

The elf dropped his smile as he became serious.  “Apparating is to jump from one point to another.  It’s fast and safe, but wards can stop it.  House-elves pop into the other place, move to their destination, and pop back into this place.  The other place is everywhere and can't be stopped.”

Harry nodded.

“The first elf discovered the other place by accident.  He had tried to Apparate, but found that the elf body is not made for it – there is too much pressure.  He fell into the other place, and found that it suited house-elves, so he kept it a secret for everyone but Council.  The Council decided that the other place would remain with the elves only.

“The only way to find the other place for the first time is for an elf to show you.”

Harry smiled and held out his hand.  “Let's go then.”

Dobby beamed once more, obviously pleased at the gesture of trust.  “Harry Potter promises not to tell other wizards?”

He nodded solemnly.  “You have my word, Dobby, that I will never show anyone about the other place, or how to get there.”

Dobby nodded and took Harry's hand.  A second later he popped; only this time, Harry was with him.

Harry looked around in awe.  The other place, as Dobby had described it, looked almost the same as the room in Parkinson Manor.  The only difference was that everything was a light brown in colour and strangely translucent.

“Welcome to the other place,” Dobby said softly.

“Thank you,” Harry said, just as soft.  There was an almost religious feeling about it, as if speaking loudly would desecrate the atmosphere.

“Hogwarts is this way,” Dobby said, turning.  The elf pushed his arms forward, and seemed to blur.

Harry shrugged and did the same.  There was a brief feeling of unimaginable speed, before he stopped.  Behind him, in the distance, was Hogwarts.

“Good first try,” Dobby announced, appearing near him.  “Need practice, though.  Distance does not matter in other place, simply face and go.”

“Okay,” Harry said quietly.  He turned to face Hogwarts again, and pushed forwards.  This time, he managed to stop inside the Great Hall, and looked around.  He could see other elves moving through the space.

“Professor McGonagall is in her office,” Dobby prompted him gently.  “Dobby has told other elves not to mention Harry Potter to Dumbledore.  Elves here do not like Dobby, they think Dobby is a troublemaker, but elves will do as Council tell them.”

“Thanks,” Harry said again, a little amazed at how much the Wizarding world took for granted.  This skill was going to be very useful with Voldemort.  He moved through Hogwarts, straight through the walls, to McGonagall's office.  He paused and realised that it was completely quiet.  He couldn't hear anything at all, not even the crackle of the fire that burning merrily.

“It’s a pity I can’t hear anything,” he said to Dobby.  “It would be a great way to spy on people.”

“Harry Potter can’t hear anything?” Dobby asked, sounding very surprised.  “This is how house-elves are able to tell Dumbledore what is happening in Hogwarts.”

“It must be because I’m not an elf,” Harry shrugged.

Dobby nodded.  “Elves have good hearing.”  The elf paused for a second, and then said, “Harry Potter needs lunch,” and vanished.

Without really thinking about it, Harry stepped out of the other place with a small pop of displaced air.  “Hello Professor,” he said solemnly.

Minerva McGonagall looked up and jumped, reaching for her wand automatically - no one should be able to appear in her private quarters.

Harry moved smoothly, taking a step forward and rapping the back of her knuckles, making her drop her wand.

“Sorry,” he said casually.  “I didn't mean to startle you, but I'd rather not be cursed.”

“Harry!?”

“In person,” he grinned.

McGonagall slumped back down into her chair, shaking her head to try and clear it.  She stood suddenly and walked over to her desk, pulling a small bottle out of the left hand drawer.  She grabbed a small shot glass and poured herself a small drink of Firewhiskey.

“You are quite definitely the last person I expected to see here,” she said as she felt the smoke came out of her ears.  “Can I ask exactly how you managed to get inside Hogwarts?”

“Mind if I sit down?”

“Go ahead, Mr Potter.”

Harry sat down opposite where his professor had been sitting before and relaxed.  “I had Dobby show me how house-elves pop from one place to another.”

McGonagall looked longingly at the bottle, but reluctantly placed it down, as she returned to her seat.  She had a feeling that the last thing she needed was to be slightly tipsy during this conversation.

“You do know, Mr Potter,” she said dryly, “that wizards have been trying to find out how the elves move for the last fifteen centuries?”

“Did you ask them?”

“They wouldn't tell us.  Every time we asked, they said no.  When someone tried to threaten them, the elves just vanished.  We quickly learnt that they were not going to tell us, no matter what.”

Harry nodded, “Their Elf Council keeps the secret very well.”

McGonagall shot him a sharp look.  “There hasn't been an Elf Council in years.”

“There hasn't been an elf like Dobby in many years, either,” Harry countered.

“They've reformed?”

Harry smiled, not saying a word.

“Well, Mr Potter...”

“Call me Harry, please,” he interrupted.

“Harry,” McGonagall said slowly, looking him up and down.  This was a very different Harry to the boy she had last seen at the end of term.  He seemed to radiate confidence, as well as good health.  “Would you care to explain what has happened this summer, and exactly what has happened to you?”

“Can I have your word that you won't tell Dumbledore what I tell you?” he asked.

McGonagall felt her mouth go dry as she looked into the fiery whirlwind that his eyes had become.  She could feel them digging into her soul and knew that she couldn't lie to him.  “You have my word.”

“Thank you.”

She felt him drop his power back down, and watched as he settled down comfortably.

With a pop, Dobby appeared with a tray.  He handed both of them a plate full of sandwiches, and a glass of pumpkin juice for Harry, and a cup of tea for McGonagall, before vanishing again.

“Sorry,” Harry said with a smile.  “It's lunchtime, and Dobby doesn't like me missing a meal.”

“Quite alright, Harry,” McGonagall said, taking a sip of the tea.

“I've started to grow up,” he said slowly.  “After I left school and returned to the Dursleys, I was locked in my room, starved, and I caught Wizarding Flu.  Some new friends of mine rescued me from probable death.”

“Muggles?”

“No, wizards.  They helped me deal with Sirius' death, and helped fix the problems associated with fifteen years of poor diet, and arranged for some Muggle doctors to fix my eyesight.

“They also did something very unique.  They told me the unvarnished truth and left it up to me to do what I wanted with it.”

“And what are you doing with it?”

Harry smiled slowly.  “Starting a revolution.”

McGonagall raised her eyebrows.  The smile disturbed her slightly; it was cold.  “A revolution?”

“I don't trust Dumbledore anymore,” Harry explained.  “Being so close to death is a very good way of seeing things in a different light.  My friends have taught me how to survive and how to win so that next time I face Voldemort, it will be the last.”

“The last?” McGonagall asked softly.

“There is a prophecy that states that I am the only person who can kill Voldemort.  And that we can't both live.  So sooner or later, either he kills me, or I kill him.  And quite frankly, now that I've got a girlfriend I'm in love with, the thought of death isn't as appealing as it once was.”

“When was death appealing?”

“At the start of the summer when I was starving and delirious.  I accepted that I was going to die, and that I'd see Padfoot and my parents again.”

“Oh, Harry.”

Harry shrugged.  “Things have changed since then.  I have a reason to win.”

“Didn't you have one before?”

“Not really.  I have some of the best friends, but that wasn't really enough.  Especially when they've spent the last two years engaged in open flirting.”

A small smile appeared briefly on McGonagall's face.  It was an apt description of Ron and Hermione, and it had been the topic of some gossip in the staff room.

“And I lost pretty much everything else that meant anything to me.”  He paused and then said with a smile.  “So, is there still a place for me on the Quidditch team?”

“I regret that I could not have your ban removed,” McGonagall explained, sliding her eyes to one side.  She had tried, but Umbridge had insisted and had refused to budge.  “Professor Umbridge...”

“Professor Umbridge will be in jail soon,” Harry interrupted calmly.  “And my ban will be lifted on the first day of school, when the new Governor is appointed to the board.”

“What new Governor?” McGonagall asked, sounding a little bewildered, even to herself.  Talking to Harry at the moment was disturbingly similar to talking to Dumbledore, or at least, how it had been many years ago.

“The new Governor that will be taking over from Lucius Malfoy.  Only, he doesn't know it yet, so I'd appreciate it if you kept it under your hat, so to speak.”

“And why will Professor Umbridge be in jail?”

“Illegal use of a torture device,” Harry replied calmly.

“A what!?”

“A torture device, namely a Blood Quill.  On me.”

“She did what!?”

Harry stood and walked over to his professor and held out his hand.  She looked, and noticed the faint scarring, and quickly realised what had happened.  A Blood Quill, something that had been banned shortly after their creation.  They were horrible devices.

“Why didn't you bring this to me, Harry?” she asked, desperately trying to control the urge to go after Umbridge and show her exactly what it felt like to use a Blood Quill.

“I was too proud, too stubborn, too stuck in my negative mindset.  I couldn't see what I was doing; every time I turned around I found something else to sulk about.

“It didn't help that I couldn't talk to Dumbledore – he avoided me most of the year – and when he did, I didn't take it very well.

“I really felt like everything and everyone was against me.

“It's taken my new friends to show me how an adult acts, and how I need to act so that I have a chance to beat Voldemort.”

“You are growing up,” she said softly, realising that it was true.  His frank self-assessment actually impressed her more than any other aspect, not even his mastery of house elf magic.  It had been obvious to all the teachers for some time now just how powerful he was, but this mature attitude was much more important to her.  It was reassuring, in a way, as it bode well for him in the future.

“It happens to the best of us,” Harry grinned.  “I've found that being an adult has a lot more advantages in life, not least of which being an amazing girlfriend.”

“I read about that in the Prophet.  Is she really a Muggle?”

“Of course not,” Harry laughed.  “We arranged it so that her description was left out of the paper, as certain people would recognise her instantly.”

McGonagall frowned.  “You arranged it?”  If Harry had influence at the Prophet, it meant that he must be serious about his revolution.  The Prophet, gossip rag that it was, was notorious for following its own path, regardless of anything and anyone else.

“I told you,” Harry replied.  “We're starting a revolution.  But that's not why I came here.”

“Why did you come?”

“I wanted to thank you for your offer to tutor me in potions.”

“But?”

Harry smiled again, “But it won't be necessary.  There are plans in place to deal with Snape.”

“Professor Snape,” McGonagall automatically corrected him.

“Do you really expect me to treat him with respect?” Harry asked with a curious voice.

“No,” McGonagall sighed sadly.  “But that's not really important.  In school, we can't allow anyone to be outside the rules.”

“Showing a lack of respect to Snape is going to be the smallest of the rules I'm going to be breaking this year,” Harry said with the slightest bit of a smile.  “But if it helps, until I'm ready, I will be nothing but polite to him.  I'm planning on giving him a little more rope.”

“So he can hang himself?”

“Exactly.”

“Do you really know what you are doing, Harry?”

“For the first time, I do.  I have people I love and trust in my corner, I have resources and information; I have the training and ability to fight and win.  The current reaction based way of dealing with Voldemort and the Death Eaters has cost too many lives.  We are putting into place a plan to deal with the problems in the Wizarding world.  The inequality between the species, the segregation at Hogwarts, the joke that is the Minister for Magic, Snape, Umbridge, the Malfoy family, and not least, Voldemort himself.

“The times are changing, and we are changing them.”

McGonagall nodded slowly, weighing up his words.  “Who are your friends, Harry?”

She felt him stare at her again, as if judging whether or not she was worthy of the information.

“Malcom and Gruoch Parkinson.  I'm in love with Pansy.”

McGonagall felt her jaw drop, and she desperately wished that her bottle of whiskey was closer than it was.  Harry had spent the summer with the Parkinsons... no wonder he had changed so dramatically.  As much as she didn't really like them, or their daughter, she knew them enough to know about their particular way of dealing with people.  And how attractive that would be to Harry.

“Are you sure you can trust them?” she asked slowly.

“Absolutely.  I know what they want, and it's a price I'm prepared to pay.  Besides, I like them, and I know that they like me and Pansy's in love with me as well.”

“It does seem a slightly strange match,” McGonagall said lightly, trying to work out what on earth would attract Harry to the sneering Slytherin.

An amused look appeared on his face, and his eyes twinkled.  “Some things are not what they seem,” he agreed with a slight smirk.

McGonagall eased back into her chair again, clinging on to her cup of tea almost desperately.  So much had changed in her well-ordered world, and what was happening was more than a little scary.  Malcom and Gruoch's ambition was legendary, but they were basically honest.

“What do you need me to do to help?” she asked, after deciding that it would be much better if she was on the inside track, so that she could keep an eye on how things were developing and try to at least protect Harry, if it was needed.

“Are you volunteering to help?” Harry asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

“Yes,” she said simply as she realised she was.

“At the moment, nothing,” he said slowly.  “I've got spies in the Order, and in the Death Eaters.  Malcom and Gruoch are looking after the Ministry; Remus is recruiting the werewolves to join me.  Tonks is sounding out the Aurors, and the house-elves and the Goblins are already on our side.”

It took all of her willpower not to gape at him again.  She had offered partly because she had felt that he'd need her help with organising, but to find he had been serious about a revolution was actually a little disconcerting.

“When we get back to school, things will be different.  At some stage, I'm going to have to sneak into the Forbidden Forest – I need to call in a favour with Aragog, and I'll need someone to cover for me if I need to get out of school at short notice.”

McGonagall nodded.  She desperately wanted to ask why he needed to talk to that giant spider but guessed that she probably wouldn't like the answer.  She was already feeling a little guilty about joining him.

“Don't worry,” Harry said calmly.  “I won't ask you to do anything you're not comfortable with.”

The fact that he could read her so easily, while a plus point, didn't quell her uneasiness.

“I need to get back,” he said, standing.  He flashed her another grin, “I just hope I can remember what Dobby showed me.”

With a pop, he vanished, and a second later, Dobby appeared in his place.

“If Professor McGonagall is wanting to talk to Harry Potter sir, Professor should gives a message to Winky who knows where Dobby is being.”

“Thank you, Dobby” she said, inclining her head.

As the elf vanished once more, she walked over to the bottle and poured herself another drink.  She had just agreed to join a sixteen year old in a revolution.

She really hoped that she knew what she was doing.

Rather than go back to Parkinson Manor, Harry headed towards the Ministry of Magic, intent on recruiting someone else.

It took him several minutes to walk through the walls in the Ministry till he found the office that he was looking for, in an older part of the building.

He appeared in the outer room and walked in swiftly, closing the door behind him.

“I'll be with you in one minute,” the occupant said cheerfully, his head buried inside a large white box.  “Just as soon as I work out what this device is.”

“It's a washing machine,” Harry volunteered, amused.

“Ouch,” the man said as he tried to stand up while still inside it.  “Harry?”

“In person, Mr Weasley,” he agreed.

“What are you doing here?  I must tell Molly immediately.”

“I'd rather you didn't,” Harry said calmly.  “I'm not really here.”

“I thought you were staying with Muggles?”

“I'm afraid that was misdirection,” he explained.  “I'm staying with friends.”

“Well, Molly and the others will be delighted to know that you are looking so well.  You're even looking a little taller.”

“I had a growth spurt,” he said dryly.  “I wanted to talk to you – things have changed recently.”

“They have indeed,” Arthur agreed cheerfully.  “I shouldn't tell you this,” he said, the expression on his face strangely similar to when he had given Harry the warning about Sirius Black.   “But Malcom Parkinson is back active at the Ministry.  I told Albus the other day.”

“He is?”

“Oh yes,” Arthur said, sitting behind his desk.  “Malcom's bad news, almost as bad as Malfoy.”

“Really?” Harry said, trying hard to hide his shock.  “Why do you say that?”

“Professor Dumbledore and Mr Parkinson have never got on.”

“Why is that?”

“I don't know the details,” Arthur explained.  “But I fully believe that Professor Dumbledore has reasons, and that's good enough for me.”

“You're very loyal,” Harry commented.

“Indeed.  And he'll be so relieved when I tell him that you are safe.  He's been very worried about you.  We all have.  I didn’t know you knew who Malcom was?”

“Yeah, about that,” Harry said, as he realised that he would not be able to recruit Arthur as he had wanted.  “I'm afraid that you can't tell him.”

Arthur frowned, “Why on earth not?”

“Because you're not going to remember that this conversation took place,” Harry said sadly.  “Obliviate .”

He popped out of sight, and watched as Arthur shook himself, and then went back to work on the washing machine.

Harry shook his head, and headed back to Parkinson Manor.

“What happened?” Pansy asked as Harry entered the room.  He looked a little down.

“Well, the good news is that McGonagall is on our side,” he explained.

“And the bad news?” Malcom asked, suddenly glad he had returned home for lunch.

“I just had to Obliviate Arthur Weasley; he won't be joining us.  He's completely loyal to Dumbledore and thinks that you are somewhere near Malfoy in the scheme of things.”

“Have we ever done anything to Arthur?” Malcom asked Gruoch as he tried to search his memories.

“No, I don't think so.  He's never been high enough on our radar.”

“So why doesn't he like us?”

“Because Dumbledore doesn't like you,” Harry explained.

“Ahh,” Malcom said as he watched his only daughter casually sit Harry down, before sitting next to him and cuddling into him.  Harry smiled and kissed Pansy's hair, and relaxed.

“Why doesn't Dumbledore like you?”

Malcom winced.  “I might have called him an interfering stubborn old coot who has his head up his arse,” he explained reluctantly, “and then went against his direct order to stay out of business with the Muggles.

“We've argued ever since then.”

“And it suited our purpose to have Albus against us,” Gruoch added calmly, “so we encouraged people to report our actions to him as often as possible.  A lot of it was fabricated, but it gave us a certain reputation for ruthlessness that was extremely useful in dealing with some of our competitors.  As far as he is concerned, we are somewhere near Malfoy.”

Malcom looked over to Harry, to see he had his head back and was laughing hard.

“I can't believe that you called Dumbledore that!”

Malcom smiled, “I was a lot younger then, a more headstrong.  Now, what is this about Minerva?”

Harry sat back upright.  “I had Dobby teach me how elves move over distances, their popping, and used it to go see Professor McGonagall, as she had offered to tutor me in potions, and that wasn't going to help us deal with Snape.  While I was there, I felt that she wasn't happy with the way things were going, so I took a gamble and told her everything, like I did with Remus.”

“Oh,” Pansy said and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.  “Good idea.”

“What did you do special with Remus?” Malcom asked, interrupting quite deliberately.  He still had a few protection issues to deal with regarding his daughter and her boyfriend.  And the fact that he still had the occasional urge to try and keep him away from her.

“He deliberately kept him off balance until he was sure of him, bringing up details in a seemingly random order, so that Remus didn't have time to think things through properly,” Pansy explained.  “It means that when Harry asks them a question, their first instinct is to tell the truth, and when you combine that with Harry's Truth Stare, and you can see why he can make good judgements about people.”

“What's Harry's truth stare?” Malcom asked.

“It’s an newer version of what he did to Tonks.  Show him,” Pansy said.

“I hadn't realised I hadn't,” Harry replied and then looked Malcom directly in the eye.

Almost as he watched, he felt the eyes lock onto his and couldn't look away.

“What were you planning on doing with the knowledge of my location before Pansy gave you the idea of working with me?”

“I was thinking about using it as an escape card if Voldemort ever came for us,” he found himself saying before he could even think of lying.

There was a silence in the room, as Harry turned off his eyes, his face unreadable.  Pansy looked half horrified, half terrified.

Gruoch looked slightly worried but more about Harry's reaction than anything else, Malcom noticed, he knew his wife wouldn't be worried about his plans.

“That's what I thought,” Harry said softly.  His eyes blazed back into life. “What about now?”

“Now you're family,” Malcom said, reeling back from the force of the look.

“Is there anything else anyone can use to try and put a wedge between us?”

“There is nothing else that concerns you, and we have told you that we've never been that fond of the law.”

“Okay,” Harry said cheerfully.  “Glad that's out of the way then.”

Malcom shook himself, trying to get rid of the feeling of being so open.

“So,” Pansy said softly.  “Now you've seen his Truth Stare.”

“How do house-elves travel,” Gruoch asked, making an obvious attempt to change the subject.

“He can't tell you,” Pansy interrupted. “He gave his word to Dobby.  Don't you have to get back to work, anyway?”

Malcom looked at his watch.  There was no need for him to get back to work at all, but he recognised a hint when he saw one.  “Yes, come on, Gruoch.”

“Okay,” she said and stood with him.  “We'll see you for dinner?”

“Yep,” Harry smiled at them.

He walked out of the room and turned to his wife.   “Why does Pansy want us out of the way?”

“She's terrified that she might lose Harry over this, and she wants to reassure him and get reassurance back that nothing has changed between them.”

He sighed.  “If I could have lied, I would have.”

“I know, honey,” Gruoch said calmly.  “Don't worry about it.  Harry seemed to expect it, and he asked the question.  He must have been prepared for the answer.”

“I just hope Pansy doesn't hate us.”

“Come with me,” Pansy said, jumping to her feet and holding out her hand.

Harry took it, rolled to his feet, and followed her up stairs.

She took him straight into her room, where she felt most comfortable.  Her stomach was still in knots after her father’s revelation that they had planned on selling him out to Voldemort.

The thought that she might lose Harry's trust or his feelings made her nauseous, and she needed to reassure him, and herself, that their relationship was still okay.

“Lie down,” she begged him. “Please.”

He looked a little surprised and did as he was told, kicking off his shoes first, before laying down in the centre of her bed.

She lowered the lights, kicked off her own shoes, and climbed onto the bed, throwing her leg over his waist, and sitting on her heels.

“I love you,” she said softly and leant down and kissed him gently.  She pulled back, and hovered above his head. “And I'm sorry.”

“Sorry?” Harry asked, looking a little confused.

She nodded.  “It can't be nice to hear that.”

“Oh,” Harry smiled suddenly.  The smile filled her with warmth as she realised he wasn't upset at all.  “I know you and your family pretty well by now, and you're nothing if not ruthless to people you don't know.  Maybe I should be upset, but I can't condemn you for something you might or might not have done.  You didn't do it, and we've all benefited from there.

“It's the only thing you've hid from me, and as long as it's the last thing, it's over and done with.”

“So you're not upset with me?”

Harry shook his head.

Pansy smiled and melted down against him.

“Did you really think I would be?” Harry asked softly.

She nodded slowly.  “I couldn't imagine how I would feel if someone told me that they had been planning on handing me over to my enemies for their own freedom.”

“Stretch out.”

“What?”

He smiled up at her again.  “Stop hovering above me and stretch out.”

Feeling a little surprised, she pushed her legs back and lay on top of him.  She felt his arms come and wrap around her, holding her securely.

“How do you feel?” he whispered intently.

One of his hands was playing with her hair; the other was stroking her back.  “Warm, safe, at home,” she whispered honestly.  Life in his arms wouldn't be a hard thing to bear.

“How do you think I feel?”

“I'd hope the same,” she replied.

“I do,” he said simply.  “Do you think I'm going to give this up, just like that?”

“I don't know,” she whispered.  She couldn't ever remember feeling the same sort of panic that had grabbed her when her father had confessed.  She'd forgotten that she had so blithely agreed with them, back then, as if it wasn't important; as if he wasn't important.

“I'm not going to give it up.  I'm not going to give up being loved.  Pretty much the only way you could make me want to leave you is if you cheated on me with Malfoy.”

She smiled softly at him.  “Draco, eh?  I'd rather let your disgusting cousin touch me than him.  But you don't have to worry about that.  I'd never let any other man touch me.”

“I know,” he said softly, his eyes twinkling slowly at her.  “You're mine.”

There was a hint of possessiveness in his voice that thrilled her.  “I am,” she agreed.

“And you've changed as well, Pansy.  You're not the same.”

“I have?” she asked.  She knew that she had, in many ways, but was curious as to his opinion of her.

“You think about other people more.  You thought about how I'd feel in that situation – I like it.”

“So you're saying I'm not going to be the ice Queen of Slytherin?”

He laughed, and rolled her over onto her back, lying on top of her.  “You can be if you want, as long as it's not to me and my friends.”

“Tempting,” she grinned.  She felt a lot better now; her worries that had seemed so devastating a few minutes ago were now a distant memory.  Harry loved her, and he would fight for her unless she betrayed him in the worst possible way.  She reached out to touch his face.  Betray him? She was going to protect and love him for the rest of her life.  “But I dunno – might be a bit hard to turn it on and off just like that.  So I'll just have to be me, and let people deal with it.”

“Good,” Harry agreed, rubbing his cheek against her hand.  “Just be yourself, and we'll deal with everything together.”

“How do you think they are going to accept you being in love with a Slytherin.”

“I'm not in love with a Slytherin,” he said firmly.  “I'm in love with Pansy, a student who happens to be in Slytherin house.  I'm hoping that they will be happy for me and accept that I am happy and that I've made my choice.”

“But what are you expecting?” she asked, aware that it wouldn't be that simple.  It never was.

“That Ron will hate it and that Hermione will over analyse it.”

“What about Ginny?”

Harry looked a little surprised.  “Dunno.  She dated a Ravenclaw, so I can't see her being upset about it.  I have no idea how Dean will react, but then, I don't care either.  Nor do I care about the rest of the school.  They're going to have to live with it, and if they can't live with it, they're going to have to be very quiet about it.”

Pansy smiled up at him.  “So I can still stop people gossiping about me?”

“Of course.  I don't want you to change, Pansy.  I want you to be yourself.  Sweet, sarcastic, sensitive,” he grinned suddenly.  “Sexy.”

“Sexy?” she asked, the warmth she felt from his embrace suddenly changed dramatically.

“Oh yeah,” Harry said, lowering his head till it was just above hers.

She could feel his breath brush against her lips, and she parted her lips invitingly.

“I fell in love with you,” he whispered intently.  “I don't want you to suddenly try and become someone else because that's what you think I want.  I want my grey queen with her arrogance, her slight superiority complex, and her innate belief in herself.  I want you to stand up to me, argue with me, and to stand up for yourself as well.  I need a partner, someone I can lean on when it gets tough, when I feel like giving up, and I want to feel needed, like that person relies on me just as much.”

Pansy felt a tear roll down the side of her face.  She slid her hands up him, so that she could cup his face.

“I love you.”

All other words seemed superfluous; that was the only thing she wanted and needed to say.  It was her declaration and her promise, her pledge to him.

“And I you,” he whispered back, his eyes open and unguarded.

She slowly slid her hands back up and tangled them in his hair.  She pulled him down, and closed her eyes.  As she felt his lips come into contact with hers, she started to kiss him.

“Come in,” Gruoch called from inside her room.

“Hey,” Harry said, as he entered.

“Harry? What can I do for you?”

“I've got a request,” he said looking a little embarrassed.

“Oh?”

“How do you braid hair?”

“What!?”

“Braid hair.  You know, in a plait or something.”

Gruoch shook her head, trying to clear it.  Of all the things he could have asked her that was simply not on her list of possibilities.  “Why do you want to know that?”

“Well,” Harry mumbled, looking down.  “Pansy asked me to dry her hair the other night, and I kinda enjoyed it.  And I like how braids look, you know, smart and sophisticated, and there's a picture of her wearing one that I really like.  So I figured that if I learnt how to do it, she'd let me do it for her.”

“Oh, Harry,” Gruoch said, instinctively reaching out and hugging him.  “I'll be happy to teach you.”  She reached up and pulled her own hair out of its ponytail.  “And I'll even volunteer to be your practice dummy.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked nervously.

“I'm a witch,” she pointed out cheerfully.  “As long as you don't set fire to my hair, I'll be able to fix it.  You do know that you can use a spell to do it, right?”

“Yeah, but where's the fun in that.”

“I don't suppose you'd talk to Malcom would you?”

“About doing hair?”

“Yeah.  Where do you think Pansy gets her love of people playing with her hair from?”

Harry laughed.  “I hadn't thought about it.”

“Sit behind me,” she said.  “The important thing first is to get the hair as smooth as possible.”  She handed him a wide toothed comb.  “So use this first, and then move on to the other one.”

“Okay,” Harry said as he settled down behind her, perching on the arm of the couch.  “I was supposed to be brushing Pansy's hair the other night, but we kinda got interrupted.”

“Oh?” she asked, suddenly realising that the hair was a distraction to what he really wanted.  A pleasant distraction – his hands were moving competently over her hair, and felt good.

“I kinda told her that I was in love with her.”

She blinked and felt a massive smile on her face.  “Kinda told her?” she teased.

“Well, she had to drag it out of me.  I let her see for herself first.  I was a little scared.”

“Why?”

“Because everyone I've loved has been hurt.”

“Ahh,” she said, slowly thinking through it.  With him being an orphan, abused, and with what she knew of his history, it was hardly surprising that he felt that way.  “Switch to the other comb now, Harry.”

“'kay.”

“You know, sometimes you just have to take that chance on people.  I did with Malcom- a penniless Ravenclaw, where as I was a rich, spoilt, Slytherin Queen.  I really didn't like your parents, and they didn't like me.  Well, not at first anyway.  But Malcom was determined, and he is a man who goes after what he wants with a single minded passion that I found irresistible.”

She felt him laugh behind her.

“I never regretted that decision, even when most of my friends ostracised me.  It made me realise something - that true friendship includes acceptance and tolerance.  And if they can't offer that, then they aren't true friends.”

She felt him pause for a second and then continue.

“I hope I do have true friends,” he whispered.

“So do I,” Gruoch replied.  “You know it's going to be tough, for both of you?”

“A little,” Harry agreed.  “But, as you just said, the only people that count are my true friends, and they should accept that I've made my choice and am happy.”

“Separate the hair into three even strands, Harry.  And then comb each strand.”

“As for the rest of the school,” he said calmly, “Their opinion isn't what it once was to me.”

“Good,” she said cheerfully.  “I know we're elitist, but there's a reason for it.  The average person has their opinions formed for them by the wireless or by the Prophet.  They're incapable of rational thought, and all they want to do is get through the day, get home, and do it again tomorrow, only with a shinier cloak or a bigger cauldron.  They aren't worth worrying about.

“The people to look out for are the ones that hate you when you are popular, or who like you when you are unpopular.  They are the people who can make up their own minds, and they'll be your closest friends and your deepest enemies.  The rest are sheep, and you can treat them like such.

“You're a wolf Harry; we're all wolves.  You keep your pack close, you trade with other packs, and you either ignore the sheep, or use them as food.”

“Don't you think you should look after the sheep?” Harry asked.

“Take the right strand of hair, Harry, and cross it over the middle section, so that the right is now the middle.”

“Like this?”

“Yeah.  Pull them a little, not too hard, to tighten it.  Then cross the left over the centre.”

“Okay.”

“And continue all the way down, just like that.  The thing is Harry; you've got to be smart about being a wolf.  What would happen if you ate all the sheep?”

“You'd have nothing left?”

“Exactly.  You care for them, you protect them from harm from others, and you make sure they are there for you.  The strange thing is, that they will eventually see you as being good for them.”

He was silent for a few minutes; she could feel his hands moving steadily down her hair.

“I find it hard to think of Neville as a wolf.”

“Wolves come in all shapes and sizes Harry – don't let appearances fool you.  It's what's inside that counts.”

“What do I do when I get to the bottom?”

She handed him a soft hair band, “Tie it up.”  As he finished, she stood and walked over to the mirror.  “Not bad for a first go,” she said, shaking her hair loose.  “Next time, try and make the strands more even, and do it a little tighter.”

“Okay, thanks for this.”

“You're welcome Harry.  I hope you realise that Malcom and I both approve of your relationship with Pansy, and we both think of you as family.”

She was surprised when he simply leant forwards and hugged her.

“Dad,” Pansy said slowly.  She had wanted to talk to him alone, so she had sent Harry to talk to her mother.

“Yes?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and looking straight at her.

“You know that I love you, don't you?”

He smiled and nodded.

“The thing is, I love Harry as well.  Totally, scarily, Malcom and Gruoch type love.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“I just wanted to tell you that he's going to come first if anything came up that we disagreed on.”

Malcom nodded slowly.  “You do realise that I didn't expect to have this conversation for a few years yet?”

“I've always been precocious.”

He laughed under his breath.  “So I heard.  Luckily, your mother and I have already discussed this.  We're going to play by most of Harry's rules, now.  Being criminals is fun when you're younger, it's got a mysterious air to it, but I find myself wanting respect more than fear.  It's time that Gruoch and I grew up and acted our age.  So hopefully, it won't ever come up.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Pansy said, a huge feeling of relief shooting through her.  “You're still going to make money though, right?”

“Hand over fist,” Malcom confirmed cheerfully.  “Different rules, same goal.”

“Make mum the richest woman on the planet.”

“Yes.”

“You know that she already thinks she is, as she has you?”

“Shh, don't tell me your mother’s secrets.  The games we play with each other keep our marriage fresh and exciting.”

“That kinda brings me onto my next point,” Pansy said, feeling her nerves returning.  “You know that I'm sleeping with Harry?”

“It’s been difficult to overlook,” he said dryly.

“Harry has no intention of stopping when we get back to Hogwarts.  He's planning on moving out of Gryffindor Tower into the Room of Requirement, and I'm going to do so as well.”

“You're telling me, not asking,” Malcom pointed out.

“True,” Pansy agreed.  “I guess I wanted you to know in case you got any complaints about it.  Harry is planning on dealing with the repercussions at school.”  Her lips curled slightly.  “He told McGonagall that being disrespectful to Snape is going to be the smallest rule he breaks this year.”

Malcom nodded, a smile appearing on his face.  “Good.  So he's planning on shaking up the school?”

“Pretty much,” she confirmed.  “Dad, you know what Umbridge did to Harry?”

“I do, indeed,” Malcom's face lost the smile, and he looked dark and foreboding.

Pansy smiled slightly, fully aware that most other people would be running about now.  Sometimes her dad could be as scary as Harry, but he was still her dad, and she knew that look would never be directed at her.

“I know Harry's going to take her to court, but that's not enough.”

“Indeed.”

“I'm going to make her life hell at Hogwarts.  I don't want her escaping.”

He smiled slowly, “So you want me, as Governor, and with Fudge in my pocket, to make sure any attempts to leave are thwarted?”

Pansy nodded and smirked.  “Last year, she didn't allow us to do any practical spell casting in her Defence class.  How do you feel about giving Harry carte-blanche to do his own defence lesson instead?”

“That would annoy Umbridge immensely, completely undermine her as a teacher, create tension with the other staff, and allow Harry to influence the other people in his year group,” he pointed out cheerfully.  “The other Governors are sheep, so I'll make it happen.  And if I'm feeling generous, I'll even let Dumbledore know... eventually.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Are you ready to go back to school?”

“Not really,” Pansy sighed.  “I've got all my work done and everything else, so that's not a problem.  I've just really enjoyed it just being us four and Dobby, you know?  Training every day and sleeping together all night – it's been the most fun I've ever had.”

“I do,” he agreed.  “I half don't want it to end as well, but it's not an end; it’s merely a new starting point.  When you go back to Hogwarts, we start to take over the wizarding world.”

She laughed at his enthusiasm.  “I know, but it also means that I have to share Harry with others, and I don't share well.”

Malcom smirked at her.  “I think I might have recognised that character trait in you.  But look on the bright side; you might actually have a few more friends by the time this is over.”

“True, and if we're still together at night, it's not as if we'll be separated that much.  I'm just going to have to swallow my possessiveness whenever his other friends are around.  Still, at least Daph is with us.”

“She's a nice girl.”

“A good friend too, she knew about my glamour.  Kinda makes me wonder how many others do.”

“Probably not that many.  As soon as people hear a secret, they like to share it, and it’s no longer a secret then.  She kept her mouth shut, so it's probable that a few people have suspicions, but no one knows.

“Speaking of which, I need Harry on the day you go back to Hogwarts, so you'll have to take the train on your own,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“What for?” Pansy asked, frowning.

“I want him to have a word with a few of the senior civil servants at the Ministry.  I want him to make sure they understand that if they follow Voldemort, they are following a half-blood and are firmly against Harry.”

Pansy nodded.  “And if they join us, they get to be on Harry's good side and not lose their jobs in Remus' purge.”

“Exactly.”

“If I'm going back on my own, I'm going in disguise,” she stated.  The idea of being stared at and drooled over by Draco without Harry there was a little disconcerting.  I can have a lot of fun and then get it out the way in one go by removing the spell publicly.”

“When Harry is around to watch your back.”

“I'd rather he watched my front,” Pansy said wickedly.

“Pansy!” Malcom complained.  “I am still your father.   I still have the urge to imprison Harry in our dungeon and torture him about his intentions.”

“Oh Daddy,” Pansy rolled her eyes.  “I'll have you know that he is a gentleman.  And if he doesn't start taking advantage of me soon, I'll be putting him in the dungeon myself.  Of course, I'd be using it to torture him the same way you did with mum.”

“PANSY!”

“You and Mum forgot your silencing spell at the beginning of summer,” Pansy said smugly.

Malcom paled.

“It was very educational,” Pansy continued, a wicked smile on her lips, “hearing you play games.  I learnt all sorts of things, especially what you do with that whip.  It took me ages to work out the charm on it.”

Malcom blushed furiously, and his mouth opened and shut.

“It made me see you and mum in a completely new light,” she continued inexorably.  “But,” she said, suddenly changing her voice and dropping the teasing.  “I kinda liked it.  It meant my parents are still in love, and while the idea of my parents playing games was a little disturbing, I realised pretty quickly that it meant you were still together and going to be for a long time.”

Malcom exhaled slowly in a hoarse half-laugh.  “Well, that will teach us to be more careful with our spells.  We didn't mean for you to find out about that.”

“So I’d guessed,” she said dryly.  She smiled as she watched him lean forwards and put his head in his hands.

“That sort of thing is very much based on trust, Pansy,” he said seriously, not looking up.  “Deep intense trust.  Don't rush into that sort of thing – take it very slowly.  Find out what you both like and don't like.  You've got the rest of your lives to explore each other in depth.  Going too fast could kill it.”

Pansy nodded slowly, “We've yet to get beyond kissing.”

“What?” Malcom blurted.

“Yeah.  If I didn't know him so well, I'd say he was gay or something.  He just won't take it any further, and I've made some pretty strong hints that he's welcome.”

Malcom was silent for a minute, obviously deep in thought.  “Have you considered the idea that he hasn't got a clue what to do next and doesn't want to do something wrong?”

“Not really,” Pansy said slowly.  “He's a boy.”

“A boy he might be,” he agreed.  “But can you really see Harry bragging about his conquests to his dorm mates?  Can you see him pouring over magazines, or even getting a talk from his uncle about what to do?”

“No, he's just not like that.”

“Oh god,” Malcom said quietly.  “I'm going to have to help a boy seduce my daughter.  That is just so wrong on so many levels.”

“You'll talk to him?”

“Before you go back to school,” Malcom sighed audibly.  “Are you really sure he's it?”

Pansy sat up straighter in the chair and looked her father directly in his eyes.  “The other night, Harry was brushing my hair when I started to hear a faint murmur.  He's always been better at Occlumency than me, and he could hear my thoughts some time ago.  This was the first time I could hear his.  He invited me inside his mind, Dad.  He let me see parts of him that no one has seen before, and he told me he loved me.  And he does, Dad.  Totally.

“I forgot for a little earlier today when we talked about us handing him over to Voldemort, but he knew us.  He knows us, and he likes us.  And he really loves me.  I'm his reason, Dad.  His reason for fighting, for pushing himself like he does.  And he's my reason.  My reason to change and be a better person, to be more grown up, to be happier with my life.  He's my reason to live.  I've been given everything I've ever wanted, and I'm happier than I have ever been without it.

“I'll be with him, Dad, when he fights Voldemort, and I'll do everything to make sure he lives, because if he doesn't, it would be like you losing Mum.  It would feel like half my soul had been ripped out of my body.

“Harry's a part of me now, and I'm a part of him.”

Although it was technically their day off, they had agreed to meet Croaker for one last duelling lesson.  Tomorrow they would depart for Hogwarts and stop this living six days for every one.

They walked into the duelling room and paused, looking around.  In front of them, were all five of their teachers.

“Welcome,” Croaker said formally.  “Today, we are going to check what you have learnt.  You may consider this your exams.”

Pansy and Harry exchanged a nervous glance and nodded.

“Margret,” Croaker said.  “You're first.”

“Harry,” she said, as she moved forwards, nodding her thanks to Croaker.  “You first.  Defend yourself.”

She paused for a second, and then snarled, “Legilimens.”

Harry didn't put up his shields.  He allowed her into his mind, then slowly started to block off certain areas, guiding her where he wanted her to go.  As she continued to push forward, he could feel her disappointment in him that he had allowed her to get so far, and smirked.

He nudged her carefully and then swung his trap shut, catching her in his mind without a way out.  He left here there for a few seconds and then released her.

“What the hell was that?” she panted, collapsing to the floor.  Her face was white, and she was sweating and shivering.

“That is Voldemort,” he said calmly.  “Those were my memories of his mind.”

“What did you do to me?” she asked quietly.

“I guided you to where I wanted you and then pushed you in.  I thought it was more effective than simply blocking you.  You felt like I had failed, and you were over confident.”

Margret struggled to her feet.

“You pass,” she whispered and turned to Croaker.  “I can't do Pansy, not now.”

Croaker nodded.  He turned to their Weapons and Tactics teacher and raised his eyebrow.

“I shall go last,” the man said quietly.

“Okay,” Croaker continued.  “For the next three tests, we're going to take a Portkey to Lympstone to use the Royal Navy's Commando Course.  We will be with Muggles, so no magic will be allowed.”

Harry and Pansy both nodded.

The seven of them took hold of the Portkey that Croaker produced, and they vanished, appearing in an empty Mess Hall.

“Paddy, you're in charge.”

Stephen “Paddy” O'Gara was a living stereotype, and he knew it.  He lead them out of the Mess Hall and out into the bright sunshine.

“Hey, Sarge,” a Marine shouted, “these the kids you've been telling us about?”

Paddy nodded, and then jerked his head at Croaker.

“Sorry, sir,” the Marine said, snapping to attention in front of the Unspeakable.

“At ease,” Croaker replied.  “I'm off-duty today.”

“Sir, yes sir,” the Marine shouted.  “Sir, can we watch?  Paddy's been boasting about them for a month.”

Croaker grinned and nodded.  “We're starting at the Commando Course.”

The Marine saluted once more and turned on his heel, sprinting towards some barracks.

“Did you have to do that?” Harry asked dryly.

“Why, yes,” Croaker grinned.  “I did.”

They followed Paddy half way around the base, to the start of the assault course.

“You're going to have to change,” Paddy said.  “Jeans and a t-shirt aren't really suitable for this course.  Pansy, there's a room over there.”

Pansy nodded and picked up a pile of clothes marked with a slip of paper with her name on it, jogging into the nearby changing room.  Harry shrugged and changed where he was.  His concept of modesty was radically different now that he felt like he was the size and shape he was supposed to be.

He pulled on the combat trousers and thin green t-shirt before bending and putting on the thick black boots.

Next to the course, a rapidly growing group of Marines were congregating.

“Excuse me,” Croaker said and walked over to them.  “Who's taking the bets?”

“That would be me, sir,” a large blond Sailor replied.

“Fifty quid on both of them to beat the course record.”

There was a moment’s silence before an explosion of noise, as the other Marines tried to get in on the act, betting for and against the two of them.

Pansy jogged back out from the changing room, her hair pulled back in a ponytail.

There was a wolf whistle from one of the Sailors, and Harry turned, his eyes glinting.

Paddy put his hand on Harry's shoulder.  “Not now,” he whispered.

Harry nodded reluctantly, making note of who had done it.

“Right you 'orrible brats,” Paddy yelled, getting into the spirit of things.  At six foot seven tall, and weighing in at over two hundred pounds, he was the size to make a lot of noise.  “You're doing this with full gear,” he continued, pointing to the packs lying on the floor.

Harry and Pansy walked over to the packs and lifted them easily.  They had been training under full load since the second day with Paddy and were very used to it.

“The Commodore expects you to finish this course in record time.  I expect you to finish in record time,” he yelled.

Harry and Pansy moved over to the start.

“You look really cute,” Harry grinned at Pansy, before looking down the course.

“What do I get if we do this?” Pansy asked.

“Kisses,” Harry offered.

“Deal,” Pansy grinned back, leaning into give him a quick kiss.

“On your marks,” Paddy shouted.  “Set.  Go!”

Pansy and Harry took off together, running in a fast loping movement.  There was no point in sprinting; they would need their strength and stamina later.  The first obstacle was simple; a balancing beam, and neither of them slowed - taking it as if they were running along a track.

The still growing group of Marines and Sailors cheered loudly, some encouraging them, with others, who had bet against them, encouraging them to fail.

The second obstacle was a brick wall, six foot high for Pansy, eight foot high for Harry.  Still moving in unison, they both jumped, placed their right foot hard into the wall, and used it as a springboard to jump up.  They both grabbed the lip of the wall with their hands and vaulted the rest of the way smoothly, flowing over the top of the wall without touching it with their legs.

They both rolled on impact with the floor and crawled under the vicious looked barbed wire for nearly seventy feet.  It was designed to hurt their arms and shoulders, but they were both used to it by now.

Next, they jumped up to the monkey bars, swinging smoothly from one to the next, with no wasted energy or motion.

After that, they had a thick rope to climb.  Pansy used her feet as leverage, as she reached up, climbing it in the conventional fashion.  Harry just powered up it, not bothering with his legs, just keeping them straight for balance.  He waited at the top till she joined him, then they both dropped to the floor.

The next series of obstacles meant they had to jump over the five-foot high beam, then roll under the next one, before repeating it four times.

They were both starting to breathe hard but were obviously enjoying it.

They climbed up a net trellis next, and then grabbed a rope to swing across a gap.  Finally, they both simply dove off the high platform, landing and rolling again to minimise the damage to their legs.

At the end of the course, they turned and started to run back to the start.

“Race you,” Pansy yelled, trying to hip check him again.

“If I win, you have to kiss me,” Harry yelled back, sprinting after her.

Unlike the first time they had done this, Harry was now at the peak of his fitness, and while Pansy wasn't wearing restrictive boots, she was still not able to keep up as he powered past her with fifty yards to go, finishing a full two seconds ahead of her.

There was an eerie silence as Paddy clicked the stopwatch.

“What?” Harry asked. “Didn't we do it?”

Paddy gulped and looked at his watch, and then the crowd.  “Didn't you know that the course finished at the other end?”

They shook their heads.

“You managed to beat the record by two seconds,” he said.  “But that record didn't have them sprinting back the length of the course.”

“So we passed then?” Harry grinned and turned to Pansy.  “I think you owe me a kiss.”

She laughed and jumped at him, kissing him soundly, while the Sailors and Marines cheered loudly.

“Okay,” Croaker shouted, interrupting them before the kissing could go too far.  “Sensei, they're your students now.”

The small intensely private women nodded and walked into the middle of a circle of sand.

Everyone followed her, the crowd standing around the circle, while Harry and Pansy stripped off their packs.

They quickly downed a bottle of water each, before Pansy moved into the centre with the sensei.

“Pansy,” she said quietly.  “Attack me.”

Pansy smiled brightly and bounced forwards on the balls of her feet.  She took a step forward and then launched into a roundhouse kick.  The kick was more designed to move the other woman back, so she finished the movement on guard.

She bounced forwards and back again, keeping on her toes, watching out for any sign of attack.  Her sensei moved first, launching into her own kick.

Pansy dropped to the floor, spinning, swiping her leg out, and aiming at her opponent’s support.

Her Sensei jumped casually, and Pansy finished her movement, arriving back in the same position as she had started in.

She didn't wait this time, and took a couple of quick steps forward, launching lightning fast short punches at her torso.

Her sensei moved, blocking and dodging each one, before launching her own attack back, the punches coming from all angles.

Pansy leapt forwards suddenly, jumping straight through her opponent’s defences, and kneeing her firmly in the chest.

Her sensei rolled backwards, absorbing most of the force, and regained her feet smoothly.

As Pansy moved forward again, her sensei launched a kick towards Pansy's stomach.  Pansy blocked it, and then leant backwards to avoid the follow up kick that would have remodelled her nose.

They continued to spar, neither getting the upper hand, before Harry saw a hole appear in Pansy's defences.  The sensei saw it as well, and threw a punch directly through it.

Pansy gritted her teeth, took the punch, and cast her own into her sensei's face.

“Time,” Croaker yelled from the sidelines.

“Congratulations,” the sensei said softly.  “You passed.  I should have known that hole was a trap.  Harry, you're next.”

Harry nodded and gave Pansy a quick hug as he walked past her.  The crowd erupted into cheers, and Harry could hear more gambling taking place as he released Pansy.

“Kick her arse,” Pansy whispered into his ear.

He smiled and walked over to face the teacher, bowing to her slowly.

The small woman bowed back, matching his respect, and changed into a modified Horse Stance.

Harry smiled faintly and shook his arms, ensuring they were loose.  This was going to be a very short fight – he was either going to win or lose spectacularly.

The sensei feinted an attack, but Harry didn't move.  He was still, silent, watching her, taking in all her movements, conscious and subconscious, as he slipped into his fighting mindset.  Nothing else existed, everything faded into greyness, the crowd went silent, as he blocked everything out but his opponent.

She attacked, and it almost seemed to be in slow motion as her right foot traced a path towards his face.  He moved.  Suddenly.  Fast.  He accepted her kick, ignoring the pain it caused, and caught her head in his hands, twisting violently.

He stopped, barely, before he snapped her neck.  The crowd returned in a flash of light, as his senses retreated from their hyper-extended state.

“How did you do that?” she whispered, shock visible in her eyes.

“Death poems, are mere delusion, death is death,” he quoted Pansy.

“I've heard that before; I don't understand.”

“And you never will,” Harry said sadly, releasing her.

“Jesus Christ,” one of the Marines whispered, breaking the spell the others were under.

Harry walked over to Pansy, who hugged him tightly.  “That was amazing,” she said, bouncing once more.  “You moved even faster than when you took out those gits at the Embassy.”

Harry nodded and turned back to face Croaker.

“I guess that just leaves me,” Croaker said dryly as he pulled out a large knife.

“Harry?” he invited, indicating a table that had been set up during Pansy's fight.

Harry grinned and walked over to the table.  A large array of knives lay spread out on it.  He chose a SOG Recon Bowie and walked towards Croaker.  He smiled and bowed again.

Croaker nodded and immediately launched a dual attack.  A kick spun towards Harry’s left side, while stabbing forwards with his knife.

Harry deflected the kick and brought his own knife into play, blocking the thrust.  The two fighters parted, both moving their knives constantly as they stared at each other, looking for a gap, an opening.

They had fought each other many times over the last few weeks and knew each other’s styles well.  They knew how each liked to attack, and how to counter it.  They knew the subconscious signals the body gave off before an attack was launched.

Together, they danced in and out, the blades glinting in the light, punches and thrusts came from nowhere and everywhere, a bewildering variety of differing power and effects.  Everything was blocked or accepted – no quarter was asked for or given.

“Time,” Paddy yelled from the sidelines.

Harry ignored him, knowing that Croaker would do the same.  This was about the fight now, and neither of them wanted to lose it.

Harry flipped his knife, so he was holding it backwards, and then jumped forwards, throwing a punch with his free hand, then an elbow with his knife hand.  He moved his free hand down to divert Croaker’s attack.

He pulled back, circling again.  He took a silent breath, knowing that what he was about to do was going to hurt, but it didn't matter.  He was going to have to give everything to defeat Voldemort, and this was good practice.

He attacked, deliberately making his actions look a little tired.  Croaker attacked, and he threw his left arm forward, impaling it on the blade.  He felt the sharp knife slide into his arm; the pain was agonising.  With a growl, he yanked his arm down, trapping the knife and ripping it out of Croaker's hand.  His right hand came up as fast as he could move, against Croaker's throat.

“You accepted the pain to win,” Croaker stated calmly, echoing his first words of praise to Harry.

Harry nodded, breathing shallowly.  His arm felt like it was on fire, or at least under the Cruciatus curse.

“I told you I'd make you the best,” Croaker continued.

Harry smiled slowly.  “So I passed?”

“Yeah.  Now let's get you healed up; you're bleeding on my shoes.”

Harry nodded, breathing hard, and followed Croaker towards the tent.

“So,” Paddy looked smug as he turned to the Marines.  “I believe some of you owe me an apology.”

“Why?” Pansy asked, as she drunk another bottle of water.

“Some of these muppets doubted me when I said that you two are the best.”

“Harry's the best,” Pansy said cheerfully.  “I'm just tagging along for the ride.  And to make sure he survives the fight.”

“What are you two?” one of the Marines shouted.

Their Weapons and Tactics teacher moved to the front.  “The best,” he said softly, although everyone heard him.  “And that's all you need to know.”

“If you want someone a little older, luv,” the Sailor who had wolf whistled earlier shouted.  “I'd take you off his hands.”

Pansy smiled brightly and walked through the crowd directly towards him, deliberately slinking her way forwards.

There was a murmur of appreciation as people parted out of the way of the smiling brunette.

“You know,” Pansy said, as she reached up and lightly touched the Sailor's face.  “It's your lucky day.”

“Yeah?” he agreed, looking smugly at his comrades.

Pansy kneed him hard in the groin.

“If my boyfriend had heard you say that,” she continued cheerfully.  “He'd really take offence, and you'd be in serious pain.”  She turned on her heel and marched back into the circle, accompanied by cheering and laughter from the other Sailors.

Harry returned with Croaker, his arm bandaged.  Pansy walked over to them, a little concerned.

“It's healed,” Harry whispered.  “But we have to keep up the appearance for the Muggles.”

She nodded and wrapped her arm around him.

“So,” Paddy yelled, taking back control.  “Do you runts think they've earned their stripes?”

A roar of approval was his response, so he walked forwards and handed them both a box.

Inside the box were two simple patches.  “They’re from the regiment,” he explained softly.  “If you ever need help, any one of us will help you out.”

“Thank you,” Harry said formally - while Pansy dropped a kiss on the big man's cheek, to a lot of teasing from the crowd.

Maggie moved forwards next and handed them both certificates.  “You passed the psychological tests” she said simply.  “Congratulations.”  The certificates announced that they were both now fully trained Occlumentists.

They both nodded formally.  They knew what it meant, now.  A lot of their teaching had been about the ethics of using their skill in general, and they both understood how badly Snape had deviated from those rules.

Their sensei was next.  “My name is Salundi Miyomoto,” she said simply.

They both bowed to her, understanding the respect she was giving them - treating them as an equal.

“You have done well,” their Weapons and Tactics teacher said.  “You have one last test from me.”

“What is that?”

“To defeat the enemy.  I will consider you a success if you survive.”

Croaker moved in front of them last.  “Well, I have presents for both of you.

“Pansy,” he offered her a box.  She opened it and gasped with pleasure.  Inside was a silver knife with a gold handle.  The wide blade looked sharp, even from a distance.

“Harry,” Croaker whispered.  “I'll be there at the final fight.  I owe some of them a short sharp death.”

Harry smiled faintly and took his box.  Inside was a simple looking black dagger.  It had no embellishments like Pansy's.  It was elegant simplicity.  It had one obvious purpose, and one purpose only.  To kill.

“That's one of our knives Harry.” Croaker whispered again.  “It's enchanted to absorb a spell when you press the heel.  Don't waste it, as it can only take one; then it will be just a normal knife.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, and hugged the older man.

“Enough,” Paddy shouted, after Pansy had hugged Croaker again.  “We're going to party!”

“We are?” Pansy asked.

“Yep,” Paddy shouted, “We've got a mess room set up; the Commodore's paying.”  He turned to the rest of the Marines.  “And you stupid lot are invited as well.”

The roar of approval that greeted that sentence was bigger than any previous cheer.

“What a day,” Harry said softly, stretching.

“Good party, though.”

“I don't think it would be possible to get that lot in a room and not have a good party.”

“Did you realise Paddy was a Squib?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.  “His aura was like a Muggle’s.”

“School, tomorrow,” Pansy said changing the subject.

“I know,” Harry sighed.  “Part of me doesn't want to go back, but the rest does.  We've spent so long training; it's time to put it into action.”

Pansy nodded and gave him a lingering kiss.

“We need to talk to Dobby,” he reminded her reluctantly.

“Oh yeah,” Pansy said, slipping beside him.

“Dobby,” Harry called.

The elf appeared a second later.

“Take a seat,” Harry said with a friendly smile on his face.

Dobby nodded and hopped up onto a chair.  Harry suddenly noticed how small the elf really was, as he was dwarfed by the normal sized chair.

“Dobby, we'd like to do something for you, but we want to make sure that we aren't doing it to punish you.”

“Harry Potter sir is not the punishing sort,” Dobby stated firmly.

“We were shopping the other day,” Harry continued.  “And we found something that we thought would look good on you.  As you're a free elf, giving you clothes isn't the same.”

Dobby nodded eagerly.

Harry reached down to a bag by his feet, and pulled out a dark green tunic and some brown leather boots.

“The important thing about the boots,” Harry said, “is that you need to wear socks under them.”  He pulled out a pair of horrendously mismatched socks, and added them to the pile in his hands, and handed them to Dobby.

Dobby looked at the socks, and then at the clothes.  His eyes shone brightly, and he vanished, appearing again a second later in his new uniform.

“Wow,” Pansy said, dropping to her knees in front of him, examining him.  “You look great, Dobby, but I think you need a finishing touch.”  She pulled out her wand and walked over to her closet, pulling out an old hat.  She transfigured it expertly, into a small cap that matched his clothes, and placed it on his head.  She then turned him around gently, so he could see himself in a mirror.

The tunic they had brought was longer than it would normally be for someone his size, and had a black belt to hold it in around his waist.  The brown boots came up to his knees, giving him an almost medieval look.

Tears slowly started to fall down Dobby's face.

“Dobby looks like a wizard,” he said, smiling proudly through his tears.  “Harry Potter and Mistress Park'son have given Dobby the biggest gift of all.  Acceptance.  Dobby will never forget.”

“We wanted to say thank you for all your help this summer,” Pansy said gently, giving the elf a hug.  “We both consider you a good friend, and we're very happy that you are working for us.”

“Pansy Parkinson is a great and powerful wizard,” Dobby said solemnly.  “You are the perfect partner for Harry Potter.  Dobby will be your house-elf forever.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, dropping to his knees as well.  “You do look good like that.”

Dobby grinned.  “Some house-elves will not like it, as they will not want to stand out.  Dobby thinks it is great.  Dobby wants to stand out and show the other elves how elves should be treated.  With respect and dignity.  Other elves will listen and see Dobby’s clothes; it will help prove Dobby's words.”

“Will there be any problems with you being at Hogwarts?” Harry asked.

“No.  Hogwarts house-elves will do as Council tell them.  Dobby is not letting other elves cook for Harry Potter.  House-elves here are now trained, and can cook for Master and Mistress.  Dobby does not trust Hogwarts house-elves do a good job.”

“Thank you,” Pansy smiled.

Dobby bowed, “Dobby is going to the Elf Council now to show off my new clothing.”

“Have fun,” Harry said, as the elf popped out of sight.

“I would never have believed a few months ago that I would make friends with a house-elf,” Pansy grinned.

“I wouldn't have either,” Harry smirked back.

“Oooo, you little git,” Pansy said.  “You're going to have to pay me back for that.”

“I am?”

“Yep.”

“How am I going to do that?”

“You can start by kissing me,” Pansy said primly.

“That I can do,” Harry whispered, as he reached out, grabbed her, and lifted her on to the bed.  “With pleasure.”

“Well,” Gruoch said as they stood by the car.  “Let's see this glamour spell of yours.”

“I was going to put it on later,” Pansy replied.

“Like always,” Gruoch replied.  “At least I know why you always asked your father to take you to the station.  Well, I want to see what my daughter looks like at school.”

“Okay,” Pansy said, looking at Harry nervously.  She cast the spell on herself.

“Oh, Pansy,” Gruoch said in a tone of profound disappointment.

She turned and looked at Harry, not wanting to see his reaction to her in the form that had been such a bitch to him.

He took a couple of steps forward, and kissed her tenderly.

“Why?” she asked, as they separated.

“You're still you.  You're still Pansy.  The outside doesn't matter; it's what is inside that counts.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and hugged him tightly.  “I love you.”

“I love you, too.  I'll see you this evening.”

“I'll miss you,” she said.

“I know,” he whispered back, lightly running his fingers over her face.

“Enough.  You two are going to make me diabetic,” Gruoch interrupted dryly.  “Come on, you're only going to be separated for a few hours, not a lifetime.”

“Yes, thank you Mother,” Pansy said icily.  She turned and kissed Harry one last time.  “The sooner you get to Hogwarts, the sooner I can be myself again, and the sooner you can kiss me properly.”

She hugged her father and stepped into the car, which was currently masquerading as a Ferrari F355 spider.  Her mother jumped in besides her, and gunned the engine, before tearing off with the back wheels spinning, throwing the shingles from their driveway everywhere.

“We've got a busy day ahead of us,” Malcom explained, as they climbed into his car and started the journey towards his office.  “We've got to see the Civil Servants at ten, a judge at twelve to get you emancipated, the Governors at three to get me elected, and then the goblins at five to sort out your inheritance.”

Harry nodded calmly.  “Okay.  I'm going to be out of sight for your first meeting, but I won't be able to hear what you are saying.”

“You can be invisible?” Malcom asked.

“Not quite,” Harry replied.  “Let's just say that I'm there, but not really.”

“Okay,” Malcom nodded.  “How about I get a Quotes Quill to take down the minutes of our meeting, that way you can read what is going on.”

“That'll be perfect,” Harry said with a smile.

Gruoch put her foot down as they pulled onto the M1 motorway, heading towards London.

“So,” Gruoch said.  “I don't really want to ask this, but I will anyway.  Just how far have you and Harry progressed physically?”

“Just kissing,” Pansy replied.

“I’m not sure I want to know the answer, but humour me.  Why haven’t you gone beyond that?”

“Because Harry hasn't taken it any further,” Pansy replied, fighting a blush.

“And why haven't you taken it any further?”

Pansy frowned, a little confused.  “Because Harry's supposed to order me to do stuff with him, and I’m supposed to do it, right?”

Gruoch winced visibly; and then yanked the wheel to the left, cutting across three lanes of traffic, upsetting several other drivers, and up the slip road of the Watford Gap Road Chef motorway service station.  “Go and sit on the bench, honey,” Gruoch said, as she locked the car and walked into the foyer.

She returned, as Pansy waited, with a couple of cups of coffee, and sat down opposite her.  “I don't know about you,” Gruoch said.  “But I'm going to need a drink during this conversation.”

She took a deep breath.  “Now, why do you think that Harry has to order you around in bed?”

Pansy felt herself blush furiously.  “Because that’s what you and Dad do?” she muttered.

“And didn't that seem a little strange to you?”

“Well, a little.  But you seemed to be enjoying it, and the idea of Harry ordering me around like that – well, it’s kind of exciting.”

“I thought Malcom told you we were just playing?”

“Yeah?”

Gruoch sighed.  “Playing wasn't a euphemism for sex, dear.”

“Oh,” Pansy said, suddenly lost for words.

“We were playing games with sex.  Technically, we were playing with Dominant and Submissive roles.  I was putting myself totally in Malcom's hands.  But that is something that we enjoy, in addition to normal love making.

“Making love is about the coming together of like minds, Pansy.  It's intense, emotional, and as much about mental feelings as about physical feelings.  You're sharing something intensely emotional and personal.  You're closer to your lover than you are to any other person on the planet - when you are with the right person.  Making love can be hard, quick, dirty, slow, loving, tender, and everything else, when it's with the right person.

“It's also about partnership.  Especially when you are starting out, you need to work together, discover together what you like and dislike, what feels good and what doesn't.  You need to spend a long time discovering each other – where and how to touch each other.”

Gruoch sighed softly.  “We should have had this conversation a few years ago,” she admitted.  “You're so adult at times, that I forgot that you’re still so young.”

Pansy took a sip of her coffee, trying to find the right words.  “Okay,” she whispered.  “How about we start again now, from the beginning.”

Gruoch nodded and started to talk.

When she had finished, Pansy looked up at her mother, horrified.  “You mean all this time we could have been having sex if I'd just helped him along?”

Gruoch laughed softly and nodded.  “I thought we taught you to research if you didn't know something.”

Pansy groaned.  “Just wait till I get that boy alone.”  She paused.  “But we can still play those games later, right?”

Gruoch laughed, “Only if you want to, and if he's comfortable ordering you around.  You do know that you can reverse it as well?”

Pansy grinned broadly.  “I hoped that would be the case.  Thanks mum.  For everything.”

“You're welcome,” Gruoch replied.  “Now, we need to get a move on, we're late.”

“Are we going to make it?”

“Of course.  With a car like this, that's somehow invisible to police cameras, it'll be easy.”

“Sit down, please,” Malcom said formally, as he welcomed the three gentlemen and two ladies into his office.  They were the secret power in the Wizarding world.  They were unelected, and unknown, but held more power than the elected officials.  Their job was to advise the politicians and execute Ministry policy.

“I'm glad you could all come.”

“Cut the blarney, Parkinson,” Michael Smith, the Permanent Secretary to the Chancellor said firmly.  “What do you want?”

“I was wondering exactly why you are all supporting Voldemort,” Malcom replied amicably.  If they wanted to play hardball, it was a game he was more than used to.

“We're not,” Sarah Sullivan replied.

“Please,” Malcom said dryly.  “Some of the policies you've come up with recently have practically ceded parts of the country to him.  Not to mention the tax breaks his supporters have received,” he turned and looked at another.  “Or the way his Death Eaters keep mysteriously escaping from prison.  Shall I go on?”

“So you know,” Michael said evenly.  “We're pure-bloods, and he is going to ensure that the Wizarding world remains very separate from the Muggles.  And that all Mudbloods are dealt with properly.”

“You mean executed?”

Michael shrugged.

“Well, it's good to see the country is in such short sighted hands,” Malcom said cheerfully.  “So, what are you going to do when Voldemort is killed?”

“Voldemort can't be defeated,” Michael started to stay, before slowly stopping and looking around.

Malcom felt that hairs on the back of his neck start to rise, as an intense feeling of magic swept the room.  It was like sitting next to a generator, and the only time he had felt this sort of thing before was when he had argued with Dumbledore - and even that hadn't felt quite so raw.

Harry slowly faded into view in front of them, and after taking one look at his face, Malcom decided that he was very happy that he was on the other side of the desk, and not facing him.

“Did I head you correctly?” Harry demanded, his voice ice cold.  “That all Mudbloods should be murdered?”

There was absolute silence in the room.

“Answer me,” Harry barked.

“Y-yes,” Michael.

“And just why is that?” Harry growled.

Malcom hid a smile.  He'd never seen the boy quite so intimidating, and it bode well for the future.  He could see that the others were now having serious thoughts about their own mortality.

“Because they're not pure-bloods,” Sarah replied weakly.

“I'm not a pure-blood,” Harry snarled.  “So does that mean I should kill you, because you're different to me?”

“No,” Michael gasped, as Harry took a step forward, his hands glowing with repressed magic.

“What do you know about Voldemort?” Harry growled.

“He'll,” Michael started.

“Silence!” Harry demanded.  “Tom Marvolo Riddle was born to a witch in Little Hangleton in 1927.  When she told her husband she was a witch, her Muggle husband abandoned her.  His mother died in childbirth, and he went to an orphanage.  In 1938, he went to Hogwarts, where he became Head Boy, and won many magical awards, not least for the framing of Reubus Hagrid when he had used a Basilisk to kill several students.  During that time, he started using another name.”

Harry lifted his hand, and wrote “Tom Marvolo Riddle” in gold letters in the air in front of them, and then with a contemptuous wave of his fingers, the letters rearranged themselves into the phrase, “I am Lord Voldemort.”

“Yes,” Harry hissed.  “The pure-blood you follow is a half blood as well.  Born of a Muggle father.  I've been inside his mind, and had him inside my own, and I can tell you that he hates everyone.  He's using you like the mindless puppets you are, and as soon as he's won, he's going to start on everyone who doesn't worship the very ground he walks on.  Your so-called revolution will leave you all penniless and worshipping at the feet of a half blood.

“And that's if you are lucky, and he wins.  But he won't.  I will defeat him, and then I will be coming after you, and I will be publicly exposing each of you as the racist supremacists you are, and you know how the public will react.

“You make me sick, all of you.”

He turned abruptly.  “Malcom, I'll see you later.”  With that, he vanished again.

“I'm guessing I forgot to mention that Harry was here?” Malcom asked cheerfully.  “And that his best friend has Muggle parents.  You can all leave now; you're of no further use to me.  I wouldn't try running,” he advised.  “Harry's got a very long reach.”

“What happened to him?” Michael demanded.  “He wasn't like that last year.”

“Indeed not,” Malcom agreed.  “Luckily, he spent the summer at Parkinson Manor, and we became friends.  I am, of course, supporting Harry in every way I can.  Run along, now, there's a good group.  I'm a busy man.”

“Stop,” Sarah said.  “Please.  How do we get out of this?”

“You don't,” Malcom said, still feeling buoyed by Harry's speech.  The idiots in front of him couldn't have pressed more of the boy's buttons if they had tried, and Harry had responded magnificently.  He was now just playing games with them, making sure they knew their position relied solely on Harry's good graces.  Any doubts he'd had about Harry's ability either to lead, or to defeat Voldemort, had been firmly deleted.

“We've all played the game, Malcom,” Michael said dejectedly.  “Tell us what you want.  You've won.

“You work for me now,” Malcom said, dropping his cheerfulness as they entered into the negotiation round.  “You will help me work against Voldemort, and when I tell you to, you will drop your support of him.  You will also help me push through a few laws that are going to help us out.”

“And in return, you will ensure that Harry doesn't do what he said?” Maggie said.

“Indeed,” Malcom replied.  “Just so that you know he wasn't lying, I've prepared a dossier on Voldemort for you, so you can see for yourself that he is a lunatic half blood.

“I will guarantee that Harry will not do anything to you at all when he wins.”

Michael and Sarah nodded, and stood, the other three shell-shocked wizards following them.  They were all wearing identical expressions of shock, as if they couldn't quite grasp the quick and brutal reversal they had just encountered.

“You guarantee?” Harry asked, as he appeared back opposite Malcom, sitting comfortably in a chair, once they others had gone.

“Absolutely,” Malcom said, aware that he was wearing his most ruthless smile.  “That will be a job for the new Minister of Magic.”

He felt Harry look at him intently for a second, before the boy started to laugh.  “Very nice.”

“Thank you,” Malcom said smugly.  “I thought so too.  I don't really care if they are switching sides.  They have some ridiculous notions about pure-bloods that really don't belong in government, and Remus should be able to deal with them.”

Harry nodded and took a deep breath.  “They irritated me.”

Malcom laughed loudly.  “Harry, do you have any idea how powerful you are, magically?”

“Pretty,” Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Harry, I know you're modest, but ‘pretty’ is the biggest understatement I've heard this century.  You did wandless magic in front of them, and were generating so much magical energy I could have used it to power Parkinson Manor for a decade.”

“I lost control a little,” Harry said, frowning.

“That's a good thing.  Sometimes a show of temper achieves more than hours of rhetoric.  How long have you been able to do magic wandlessly?”

“I've been working on it with Croaker.  I started with being able to cast spells silently, and we took it from there.”

Malcom nodded and looked at his watch.  “Well, as that only took five minutes, it gives me a chance to bring up a more uncomfortable subject.”

“More uncomfortable than racists?”

Malcom nodded.  “For a second, we're going to forget that Pansy is my daughter, and we're just going to be a couple of men having a frank and open discussion.”

“Okay,” Harry said slowly, a look of confusion appearing on his face.

“Pansy told me that you two are kissing a lot, but that is about as far as it's gone between the two of you.”

Harry blushed furiously and nodded.

“Why haven't you gone any further?”

Harry seemed to freeze and swallow, before he started to cough furiously.

“Remember,” Malcom said dryly, suddenly realising that he was enjoying the conversation in a strange way, even if it was about his daughter’s sex life.  “I'm not Pansy's dad at the moment.”

“I don't know,” Harry mumbled, his face bright red.

“Don't you want to? Pansy's pretty attractive.”

“She's gorgeous,” Harry corrected instantly.  “And well, yeah, you know, I do, kinda.”

“But?”

“But I haven’t got a clue,” Harry mumbled.  “It's not come up before, and it's not as if I can owl my friends and ask, 'By the way, what do I do with a beautiful girl while we're in bed together having wonderful snogging sessions?'”

Malcom laughed softly.  “Most kids find out what to do from copies of PlayWizard magazine, from friends, and from their parents.  But I can't see you doing any of that.”

Harry nodded in agreement.  “I always felt it was weird to talk about girls like that.  I didn't like it.”

“That's probably a good thing, Harry, because other boys are usually the most inaccurate source of information available.  It appears like I'm going to have to do something that no man should ever have to do.”

“What's that?”

“Teach you how to make love to my daughter.”

He really enjoyed just how red Harry went at that phrase.

“Okay, sweetheart, have a good time at school.  Cause as much havoc as you can.”

Pansy laughed.  “You're supposed to tell me to be good,” she replied.

“I know,” Gruoch said.  “But normally we're not planning on helping take over the country.  And look after Harry as well.  His big vulnerability is how much he cares about others.  While we don't want to change that, try and protect him from it.”

“I will, Mum.”

“Now, Harry's got one of Malcom's notebooks, so we'll keep in contact as much as we can, and let us know what is going on.”

“I will.  And Mum?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Thank you.  For everything, and for treating me as a friend as much as a daughter.”

“You're welcome honey.  And thank you for being you.  We're both so proud of the person you've become.”

Pansy smiled.  “That's as much down to Harry as to myself.”  She leant in and hugged her mother tightly.  “I'll see you soon, Mum.”

“I know, now go.”

Pansy smiled and then straightened her shoulders.  Her face dropped into a sneer, and she turned and stalked away through the station and into platform Nine and three quarters.

The platform was busy as usual, as families said good-bye to loved ones.  She spotted the red that signified the Weasleys, and wondered what it would be like to be friends with the two youngest.  She saw Ginny standing a little to one side, a curious expression on her face.  It was almost as if she had grown up over the summer, as it was a similar look to one she had seen on her own face in the mirror.  She felt that it might end up that she'd make friends with Ginny more than Ron or Hermione, as they both looked the same as the last year, although they were obviously now a couple.

She almost smiled.  Since when had she stopped referring to them as Granger and Weasley?

“Pansy!” a voice yelled, and a few seconds later she was embraced by Daphne.

“What's going on,” Daphne whispered.  “Why are you in this silly face, and where's Harry?”

“Harry's with Dad starting the revolution at the Ministry,” she whispered back.  “I want an audience when I drop this disguise later, so that everyone knows that it's me.”

“And so that you can publicly rub it in Draco's face?”

Pansy nodded, “Exactly.”  She paused for a second and then said in loud voice.  “So, how was your summer?  I spent it in Italy; Daddy wanted to introduce me to a Count.  Family thing.  He was very rich – had four castles in Italy alone.”

Daphne rolled her eyes.  “Egypt Dahling,” she said in a vapid voice.  “Let’s find a carriage away from the riff-raff.”

Malcom walked into the Court Room in the Ministry of Magic, presuming that Harry was with him somewhere.  All he knew was that Harry could go anywhere, and that it was something to do with house-elves.  They were having a private hearing with Amelia Bones.  She was one of the few people in the Ministry who was completely incorruptible.

He was thinking of recommending that Remus approach her as she would make a powerful ally.

“Malcom,” she said in greeting from behind the bench.  “It's unlike you to request a personal hearing.  What's going on?”

“I'm afraid that Malcom arranged the meeting on my behalf,” Harry said, fading into sight.

Madam Bones raised her eyebrows and looked at Harry thoughtfully.  “This explains a lot,” she said quietly.

“It does?” Harry asked, looking a little curious.

“Malcom back at the Ministry, strange rumours, Fudge disappearing from sight.  I wondered what Malcom was up to.  But if you've been staying with him all summer, and guessing by your obvious good health, I'd say it was obvious that you have, something’s up,” she commented sagely.

“So, Malcom, you are planning on taking over the Ministry now?”

“Not quite,” he said with a smile.

“I am,” Harry grinned.  “Well, I'm planning on getting someone I trust into power.”

“May I ask who?”

“Remus Lupin.”

The head of Magical Law Enforcement frowned.  “Werewolves are not allowed to stand for election.”

“They will be when Fudge changes the law in a few weeks time.”

“Does Fudge know he's changing the law?” she asked dryly.

“Not yet,” Harry smirked.

“I take it the prophecy is true then,” she asked.  “You have to defeat Voldemort?”

Harry frowned.  “That is supposed to be a secret,” he growled.  “Where did you find that out?”

“I've known for a few years,” she replied.  “And don't try that with me, young man.”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled.

“It's okay,” she said, a slight smile appearing on her face.  “It will probably work on most other people, but I'm a grandmother.  I can't help see you as a grandchild.  It's the Ministry's job to know what is going on in the world, Harry Potter.  When Albus started paying special attention to you, I did some research and found the Prophecy.”

“Dumbledore said that he was the only person to hear that Prophecy.”

“He wasn't,” Bones said quietly, effectively closing the conversation.  “Why are you here?”

“I want to be declared an emancipated minor,” Harry explained.  “I have independent means of support, no applicable family, my parents closest adult friend is a Werewolf and ineligible to look after me and my Muggle family is currently under arrest for child abuse.”

The Head nodded.  “So I heard.  Normally Harry, granting a child Emancipated status is simply not done.  We would prefer to place you with Magical Services, and allow them to look after you.  However, you do have the fate of the country on your shoulders, and with the proviso that you follow Malcom's advice, I am willing to grant you that status.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, bowing with respect.

“What I do want to know, is what you have been up to this summer.”

Harry smiled, and seemed to blur; he appeared next to the judge, his full power released, a knife at her throat.  “Practising,” he whispered, before returning to his place in front of her.

Amelia took a deep breath.  “I take it back, Harry,” she whispered.  “You are intimidating.”

“Only to people in my way,” Harry said softly.  “I am fed up with the incompetence of the Ministry, the segregation of the school, and the racism prevalent in the Wizarding world.

“I am going to stop it.  Remus being Minister is one part of that.  Voldemort's death is another.”

Amelia nodded slowly.  “How do you want me to help?”

“Help Malcom persuade the rest of the Wizengamot to grant Fudge's law.”

“Malcom, what are you getting out of this?”

“You mean apart from a lot of money, power, and influence?”

“Indeed.”

Malcom smiled slowly.  “It's time we grew up, Amelia.  We've had fun being the bad guys, but now we're going to be good guys.  We'll play by the rules, and win that way.  Helping Harry ensures that my family lives, that our fortune remains intact, and for the first time, we lose the reputation for being dark.”

Harry smiled, “Besides, if Malcom and Gruoch are going to be my parents-in-law at some stage, they'll have to be good.”

“What?” Malcom asked, shaking his head.

“You think I'm going to let Pansy go?”

“Well, no,” Malcom said, it wasn't often that he was speechless.

“My parents got married young, and it seems to be a Wizarding custom.  Do I have your permission to ask Pansy to marry me?”

Malcom stumbled to a chair, sitting down hard.  “Gruoch's going to kill me, but yes.”

“Why is Gruoch going to kill you?”

“For saying yes when she doesn't know about it!”

“Good point,” Harry said.  “I'll be back in a few minutes.  Gruoch should be back at the Manor by now.”  He vanished suddenly.

“You know,” Amelia said quietly.  “I would have paid a lot of money to see the great Malcom Parkinson absolutely speechless.”

“It's not everyday that you find that the most impressive young man in the country is planning on marrying your only daughter.”

“The most impressive young man in the country?”

“Yeah,” Malcom sighed.  “Over the past six weeks I've watched him grow and mature.  I've seen his dedication, his honour, and his innate sense of right and wrong, and I've watched Pansy and Harry fall in love.

“And it looked so familiar, it was like watching Gruoch and I.  Harry is a lot like I am; he feels the need to prove himself, to take responsibility.  I had the same desire to prove myself, and make everyone forget that I was a penniless Ravenclaw.  Maybe I should have been more involved with the last time around, but I wasn't.  I went for my family first, as that is what meant the most to me.  This is my redemption.  For too long, I have let the Slytherin side of my nature show; it's time to remind people that I am a Ravenclaw at heart.

“I would have been proud to call Harry my son, and I will be prouder still to have him as a son-in-law.”

“Why Malcom,” Amelia said gently.  “You're human, after all.”

“I always have been,” he replied.  “It's just taken some time, and someone like Harry, to remind me that there is a world outside my family, and that I have responsibilities outside of it as well.”

“I never thought I'd say this,” the austere Head of Magical Law Enforcement said.  “But we might actually end up friends.”

Harry rushed through the other place in one of the best moods of his life.  He hadn't been planning on asking Malcom's permission to marry Pansy quite like that, but it had seemed right.  His motivations weren't quite as transparent as he'd made them out to be.

He didn't want a feud with Dumbledore; it wouldn't be good for anyone, as personally satisfying as it would be.  In the same way, he wasn't prepared to stop sleeping with Pansy.  A good solution, now that he was an adult, was to propose to Pansy.  Being engaged would give Dumbledore a way of allowing him and Pansy to be together without making it look like Harry was completely undermining his authority.

He appeared in the Manor, and walked into the Kitchen.

“You're missing us, aren't you?” he asked softly.

Gruoch jumped and turned to face him.  “Yes,” she said softly.  “The first few days are always the hardest.  I'll throw myself into work – Malcom will too.  And we'll get used to it; we always do.  I do miss Pansy, and this year, it's going to be as twice as hard, as we'll be missing you as well.”

Harry sat down opposite her and smiled reassuringly.  “We're never more than a note away,” he said.  “And this year, we'll have a lot more freedom to meet up when ever we like.”

Gruoch nodded.  “Why are you here, Harry?”

“Well, I've just been declared a legal adult.”

“Congratulations,” Gruoch smiled.  “What's your first act as an adult going to be – have a drink?”

“I've already done that,” he grinned.  “My first act was to ask Malcom's permission to marry Pansy.”

The tea cup in Gruoch's hand fell to the floor and shattered, spilling tea and shards everywhere.

“What?” she croaked.

“I asked Malcom's permission to marry Pansy,” he replied, amused.  “And he pointed out that I really ought to ask you as well, so here I am.”

Gruoch launched herself across the table, hugging Harry hard and bursting into tears.

Harry hugged her back, smiling.  “I'm guessing that's a yes?”

“Of course,” she laughed through her tears.  “Have you got a ring yet?”

“No,” Harry smiled.  “I only really realised today that I want to spend the rest of my life with your daughter.”

Gruoch smiled, and leant back, pulling a ring off her finger.  “This ring belonged to my mother, and her mother.  It's time to pass it on.  Pansy's always liked this ring, and it's magic - it will resize itself to fit her finger.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, suddenly feeling a little emotional.

“I couldn't think of another man I'd rather look after my little girl,” she said softly.

“I will look after her forever.”

“I know.”

“Okay, I've got to get back to Malcom.  I left him with Amelia Bones.”

“So, tell me all,” Daphne said.  “What's happened between you and his dark hotness?”

“Dark hotness?”

“Oh yeah.  Tall, dark, handsome, intense green eyes.  If he wasn't nuts about you, I'd be all over him like a rash.”

Pansy laughed.  “Unluckily, he likes brunettes and redheads.”

“Redheads?  Weasley?”

“Yep.”

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“Nothing at all.  I don't need to.  I've won.  Harry's mine as much as I am his.  There's no point in me being jealous.  This is Harry 'I passed the girlfriend test without even flinching' Potter.”

“True.  Although it seems strange that you can be confident.  Last year, you would have been plotting her downfall, just in case.”

“I've had to change,” she smiled.  “And I'm happy about it.”

“And speaking of change, why aren't you in the prefects meeting?”

“Because I can't stand to be in the same carriage as Malfoy.  Besides, Harry and I are going to be living together at Hogwarts, so it's not as if I'll be able to be a prefect, and as Harry's not, I'd rather not do it anyway. We’re going to be doing too much for me to waste my time anyway.”

“Whoa, back up a tick.  You're going to be living together at Hogwarts?”

“Yep.  Harry's got it all planned.  There's going to be some fireworks tonight,” she grinned.

They were interrupted by the sounds of taunting from the next carriage.

“Daph,” Pansy said pleadingly.

“For them?”

Pansy nodded.

Daphne sighed and undid the top button of her shirt.  “You owe me for this,” she grumbled, before walking out the door, and calling, ”Oh Draco,” in her most insipid voice.

As Draco walked past, she moved out and looked in the carriage.  Ron, Hermione, and Neville were looking furious, while Ginny looked dangerous; it reinforced her decision to make friends with the girl.

“What do you want, Parkinson?” Ron demanded.  “Draco went that way.”

Pansy rolled her eyes, and then winked playfully at Ginny, before walking out and shutting the door.

“Hey Neville,” Ginny said casually as she sat down with Ron and Hermione.

“Is it true?” Neville asked, shutting the door excitedly.

“What?”

“That Harry's in love with a Muggle, and that he's run away from the Wizarding world.

Ginny shook her head.  “Nope, he's in love with a witch, we just don't know who.  And we hoped he'd be on the train.  We've not seen him all summer.”

“Well, I'm glad he's not leaving us,” Neville said cheerfully.  “I heard about those disgusting Muggles.”

Ron sighed.  “We heard from Harry.  He said he was with friends who were helping him deal with it, so we've got no idea who they are.  Hopefully he'll be at his normal weight.”

“Come on Ron,” Hermione interrupted.  “We need to get to the prefects' carriage.”

“Yeah,” Ron said.  “See you guys in a bit.”

“So,” Neville said, as the two left.  “What did you do all summer?”

Ginny thought for a second, and then smiled at him.  “I think I grew up a bit,” she said softly and pulled out a book, settling in comfortably.

An hour or so later, Ron and Hermione returned.

“Anything interesting happen?” Ginny asked, more for the sake of conversation than anything else.

“A lot of people asked about Harry,” Hermione said.  “Except Draco.  One strange thing: Parkinson wasn't there.”

“Yeah, not even Draco knew why she wasn't there - we saw her get on the train with Greengrass earlier.”

The door to their carriage burst open, and the sneering face of Draco Malfoy peered in.  “So,” he said, contempt thick in his voice.  “Poor Potty got knocked around at home and ran away and joined the Muggles.  What are you going to do without him?”

“Go away, Malfoy,” Hermione said icily.  “You don't know what you're talking about.”

“Drop dead, Mudblood,” Draco sneered.  “The revolution is here, and your kind are going down.”

Ron struggled for his wand, but as he pulled it out, Draco looked up, down the carriage, and turned and left in a hurry.

Ginny frowned, deciding that she was going to have to teach the ferret a lesson.  She could see that Ron and Hermione were both enraged, when Pansy Parkinson looked in.

“What do you want, Parkinson?” Ron demanded.  “Draco went that way.”

Pansy rolled her eyes, and then looked directly at Ginny, winking at her.

Ginny picked up her book and settled down.  She no longer read it, but used it as a shield so that she could think.  Something important had just happened, but she wasn't quite sure what.  But, one thing she was sure of was that behind the sneer, something had changed with Parkinson.  She was definitely not the same girl who had followed Draco around last year.

Malcom walked into large formal room in the Ministry, and nodded to the governors in front of him.

“Let's cut to the chase,” Malcom said.  “You need to remove Lucius Malfoy as Governor and replace him with me.”

“And why would we do that?”

“Because Lucius Malfoy is a convicted criminal, and is no longer suitable.  Because some of you owe me a favour and I'm calling them in now.”

“And,” Simon Parkinson added with a grin.  “Malcom's my cousin, and I think he'd be good for the school.”

“That was easy,” Harry noted.

“Yeah.  It wasn't ever going to be hard.  I'll enjoy telling Lucius.  He's been going nuts with Fudge avoiding him, and him not being able to find out why.”

“Are you going to be okay dealing with Malfoy?”

“With my hands behind my back,” he said calmly.  “This is going to signify the start of open warfare between us.”

Harry nodded and took a bite of the sandwich.  “I'm glad that Dobby is going to be at Hogwarts.  I've gotten used to his cooking.”

“Yeah,” Malcom agreed.  “I just hope his training is as good with the other elves.”

“So, I was talking to Gruoch the other day.  Did you know that she loves having her hair played with?”

“Not in so many words,” Malcom said.

“I was asking her how to braid hair, and she let me practice on her.  You might want to try it.”

“How do you braid hair?”

Harry sighed and pulled out his wand.  “This is only as a thank you for earlier,” he grumbled, casting a spell to make his hair grow.

“First you have to comb it well.”

The goblins proved to be most helpful as soon as Harry could show that he was an adult now.  His family vaults were released to him, and he was giving a new key for Sirius' vaults as well.

He sat silently as Malcom discussed the Goblins’ participation.  Harry was silent, as the Goblins had more respect for a man who had made his own money, rather than inheriting it.

It was the last thing of the day, and after this, he was going back to Hogwarts, and he would see Pansy again, and maybe even propose to her.  He was more nervous about that, than anything else.

After they left the office, Harry turned to Malcom.  “I just want to say thank you.  For everything.”

“You are very welcome, Harry,” Malcom replied.  “I'm prouder than I can say of you, and that you are going to become an official part of my family.  Your parents would both be so intently proud of you, and the person you have become.  There is no one else in the world that I would trust Pansy with.”

Harry smiled and hugged the older man, and felt his eyes go watery as the older man hugged him back tightly.

“Now, how do you want to play tonight?”

“Well,” Harry said, breaking apart and thinking.  “Pansy wants to have her 'coming out' session in public to get most of the questions out of the way.  I think the best thing is for me to go in first, refuse to tell Dumbledore anything, and generally be confident and smug.  Pansy will then do her thing, and I suspect she has something pretty theatrical in mind, so the best time for you to enter would be after dinner where you can tell Dumbledore the good news.  I'll send you a message when I think it's the best time.”

Malcom nodded and smiled.  “It's probably wrong that I'm looking forward this so much.”

Harry grinned, “I am as well.  It's going to be very different this year, and it's going to be a lot of fun.”

“You know that Pansy is planning on something for Umbridge?” Malcom asked.

“I'd guessed,” Harry replied.  “If Umbridge hurts her, I will destroy her.”  His voice was like ice.

“As long as you let Gruoch and I help,” Malcom added.

Harry nodded solemnly.  “I better get back to school.  I'm planning on making a bit of an entrance myself.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Hermione's been telling us for years that you can't Apparate in Hogwarts.  I've been practising, and I can make it look like I'm Apparating, even when I'm not,” he smirked.

“Misdirection is always a good opening tactic,” Malcom said approvingly.  “You've got one of my notebooks; keep me informed of what's happening, and if you need anything.”

“I will.  See you later tonight.”

Harry had just vanished when the floo to his office erupted into flame.  Malcom looked at it curiously; there weren't many people who had the access passwords to his private office.

Croaker stepped out, absently brushing himself down.

“I didn't expect to see you again,” Malcom said.  “You've paid off your debt.”

“I didn't do it for the debt,” Croaker said, sitting down.  “I paid that off the first lesson.  I did it because I like both of 'em.”

“Me too,” Malcom said with a grin.  “What can I do for you?”

“I took them to Lympstone yesterday, to do the Commando course there, and to fight me and their Sensei.”

“And?”

“Well, they smashed the course record.”

“That shouldn't be possible,” Malcom said, frowning a little.  “They shouldn't be able to beat people who have been training for years.”

“I agree,” Croaker said.  “Paddy was shocked as well.  He felt that they could have just beaten it, if they'd been lucky, but not smash it by over fifteen seconds.  They actually managed to run the length of the course back to the start, and still break the time.”

“How?”

“Magical children are not normally trained like Pansy and Harry have been,” Croaker said thoughtfully.  “I think their bodies, that are already different to Muggles because of the power they have to handle, simply adapted more than was normal.  It might also be proportional to the amount of magic they control.

“Pansy was flat out all the way, and did brilliantly, but Harry was something else.  He could have done it faster.  He matched himself to her, and at the end, he wasn't even out of breath.  He even stopped for her at the top of the rope climb.”

Malcom steepled his fingers, “So by pushing them so hard, their bodies changed to allow them to be fitter and stronger?”

Croaker nodded and started to smile.  It was a cold smile, and one that Malcom happily matched.

“Poor old Voldemort,” Malcom said.

“Indeed,” Croaker agreed.  “I need another favour from you, though.”

“Anything,” Malcom said instantly.

“I need you to make sure that Harry doesn't become an Auror or an Unspeakable.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Harry can never be an Auror; he's already far too good.  He'd breeze through the training without breaking a sweat.  The best Aurors are the ones that are recruited to be Unspeakables.

“I want your word that you will not tell anyone what I am about to tell you.”

“I promise,” Malcom said simply.  Once he gave his word, he never broke it.

“The Unspeakable department is separated into research and field work.  I'm a field agent.  The research team investigates magic, dark and light, and tries to come up with counter spells.  It was an Unspeakable that developed the Cruciatus, many years ago.

“The field agents are assassins; our brief is to help protect the country from attack.  We work abroad, taking out foreign threats.  We do not, and are not, allowed to interfere with domestic policy.

“This work is brutal.  It's the last resort for people like me.  For people who have nothing left in the outside world.  I enjoy my work, but I don't want to see Harry become like me.    He can do more good for the world than anyone else I've met, and because of that, I don't want him becoming cold and hard.  I don't want him to value life as little as I do.  Because he has the potential to make Voldemort look like a boy scout.

“I'm on a six month hiatus from the department.  I think that the final battle will be sooner rather than later.  Voldemort isn't going to take what you are doing lying down.”

Malcom nodded his agreement.

“So I will fight with Harry, and keep this country safe from an internal threat – the rules can go screw themselves.”

“Do you want me to get the rules changed?”

“You can't,” Croaker said.  “Only the Ministry with full support from the Wizengamot could do that, and Fudge isn't that popular.”

Malcom smiled.  “Harry has a plan to have Fudge replaced in the elections.”

Croaker smiled slowly.  “Effective, isn't he.”

“Ruthlessly,” Malcom agreed.  “And by the way, I'm the new chairman of the Board of Governors at Hogwarts, and Harry is now an Emancipated minor.”

Croaker laughed.  “Had a busy day then?”

“Not really,” Malcom grinned.  “I let Harry do all the work.  I just pick up the pieces and look smug,

“Thank you for everything you have done for them.”

“It was my pleasure, Malcom.”

“I will persuade Harry not to become an Auror,” Malcom said.  “Although, I am hoping that after Voldemort is dead, Harry will have had enough of fighting.  If he doesn't want to be a Quidditch player, he can join the business here.  I'd be happy to hand it over to him and retire in a few years time.  Of course, that's if Pansy doesn't want it herself.”

Pansy attached a happy look to her face, as she sat next to Draco.  Luckily, all his attention was still on Daph.  Or rather on what was beneath Daphne's undone top button.  He was leering in a rather disturbing way.

Over on the Gryffindor table, she could see the slightly disappointed looks on the faces of Harry's friends.  On the staff table, Dumbledore looked his normal self, while McGonagall was looking around slowly, as if she was expecting something dramatic to happen.

The Sorting Hat's song had been rather redundant, as she knew what was going to happen, but to the others, it had appeared to be its most startling warning next - that everyone had to work together to overcome the threat of Voldemort.

Well, that wasn't going to be a problem; anyone who didn't was going to find themselves on the wrong side of Harry Potter.

She continued to look around, and focused on Umbridge.  The Hogwarts High Inquisitor had recovered from her attack with the Centaurs, and had reprised her role as the Defence teacher.  Malcom had ensured that her requests to Fudge to be transferred had been denied, and her brief was to keep a lower profile eye on the school, and on Harry.

Umbridge had no idea that the only reason she was still there was so that Pansy could enact some revenge on behalf of her family for her torturing of Harry the previous year.  She was going to get a very nice lesson in the price of upsetting a Parkinson.

“You're got an evil look on your face,” Blaise pointed, interrupting her thoughts.

“La vendetta è un piatto che va servito freddo,” Pansy whispered, as the interminable Sorting ceremony finished.  She hadn't bothered to applaud any new Slytherins.  She no longer saw herself as one she was more a student now, and knew that was what Harry wanted.  People to stop defining themselves by their houses, and instead begin to define themselves by their actions.

She watched as Dumbledore got to his feet to deliver his opening address.

“Welcome to another school year,” he said, looking around, his pale blue eyes twinkling, as they always did.

“Why thank you,” Harry Potter said, arriving with a distinctive crack.  “It's good to be back.”

White Knight, Grey Queen

6 - Return

“Welcome to another school year,” Dumbledore said, looking around, his pale blue eyes twinkling as they always did.

“Why thank you,” Harry Potter replied, arriving with a distinctive crack. “It's good to be back.”

Pansy managed to keep her face straight, but only through using a huge amount of will power. Harry hadn't changed from when she had seen him this morning, and hadn't bothered with his robes.

In a way, she had missed the changes that had occurred to him, because she had seen them happen gradually. It was only now when she could see him in a familiar setting that she realised just how much he had changed.

His hair was the same, unruly and untameable – at least without serious application of Muggle hair-gel. His eyes were the same, although now they weren't hidden by the old glasses he used to wear, and his face was similar, just more adult, any softness he’d had remaining having been burnt away. The soft white t-shirt he was wearing clung to his chest like a second skin, a chest that was much more impressive than it had been before. The four inches of height, when combined with the new muscles he’d developed, gave him an imposing air, and she could feel the power he possessed from where she was sitting.

As she looked around, she struggled to stop herself from leaping to her feet, walking over to him, and kissing the daylights out of him, marking him as her possession to the other witches. It looked like one of the Patils needed a napkin as she was drooling so much.

She took a deep breath and remembered that she was going to be able to make her statement shortly, just as soon as she could get rid of this stupid glamour spell. She caught Daphne's eye and coughed to hide the giggle her friend’s face caused.

“You can't Apparate into Hogwarts!” Hermione squeaked, the first person to break the unnatural silence that had fallen over the school.

“It's good to see you too, Hermione,” Harry said cheerfully. “Have a good summer?”

Pansy giggled to herself at the stupefied expression on the girl's face. She admired the way Harry didn't actually answer the question; he'd learnt a lot over the summer. She looked up at the staff table. Dumbledore looked vaguely surprised, while Snape was staring at Harry with evident loathing. McGonagall was looking stern, but it also looked like she was hiding a smile. As the Professor looked at her, Pansy risked a quick wink at the Gryffindor head of house, and was a little shocked when it was returned.

“Welcome back to school, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “How was your summer?”

“Excellent,” Harry said cheerfully. “Did you have a good summer?”

“It could have been better,” Dumbledore replied.

“How true,” Harry said with a look of commiseration on his face. “But it's so rare that we actually get what we want, isn't it?”

Pansy looked around again and noticed that Draco was staring at Harry with loathing, but there was also a little fear in there. As there should be, she decided, because sooner rather than later, Draco was going to be on the end of some of the skills they had learnt over the summer.

“You'll have to excuse my lack of robes,” Harry continued. “I'm afraid that I've had a very busy day, and simply haven't had time to get changed.

“And while we're at it, can you tell your pet to stop trying to get into my mind?”

“Excuse me?” Dumbledore asked, looking a little lost. It was an expression Pansy had never seen from him before.

“That sorry excuse for a professor sitting next to you,” Harry explained, his smile not wavering. “Actually, I'll deal with it myself.”

There was a minor pause, as the whole school swivelled to look at Snape, who was sitting next to Dumbledore.

Snape suddenly went very white, and sweat appeared on his forehead. His expression changed from a sneer to one of agony, and he started to shake.

“Stop!” Dumbledore yelled. “Both of you.”

“Why?” Harry asked offhandedly. Pansy doubted that anyone else would be able to detect the note of strain in his voice. She concentrated hard, and sent her own thoughts towards him, giving him a small mental caress to try and help him out.

“He attacked me, using Legilimency to try and see what happened to me this summer. That is in direct violation of the code of ethics that binds all practitioners of the art. I don't have to release him at all. He has broken the rules; now, he has to pay the consequences.”

Snape was now shaking hard, a look of abject terror on his face.

With a contemptuous nod, Harry released the Professor, who collapsed onto the table.

“Well?” he asked as he switched his attention to Dumbledore.

“Well, what?”

“Aren't you going to do anything?”

Dumbledore nodded slowly. “I will deal with this in private.”

Harry smiled cheerfully, and Pansy felt a tendril of gratitude caress her mind. “Good,” he said. “I'd hate for the 'Sins of the Student' doctrine to be applied.”

“Can I ask where you received your training?” Dumbledore asked.

Harry looked thoughtful. “I received my training from a member of the Council,” he said simply. “And my instructor desires to remain anonymous. You can expect a visit from the Council, though; they wish to discuss some irregularities in my early training.”

“What was that?” Snape gasped, suddenly, as he scowled at Harry.

“Why, that was Voldemort,” Harry whispered, his smile turning into a slightly evil grin. The room seemed to gasp at the name. “That's the fragment of Voldemort's mind that he left when he possessed me. I find it very useful for dealing with unwanted guests.”

“Take a seat, Harry,” Dumbledore interrupted. “You're just in time for the feast.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied formally, offering the headmaster a faint bow. “I've not eaten in several hours. The goblins do make good tea, but their food leaves a lot to be desired.” He strolled over to the Gryffindor table, and smacked Ron on the back casually, and grinned at Hermione.

“So,” Pansy faintly heard him say. “You two are together now, right?”

“Pansy!” a hated voice said, dragging her attention away from Harry, where it really wanted to stay.

“Yes, Draco?” she simpered, making a mental note to wash her mouth out later. She really hoped he'd say something now, so that she could use it to start her own coming out.

“I've decided to grant your deepest desire,” he smirked. “You will be my mistress for ever.”

“What?” Pansy asked; that statement had been pretty much the last thing she had expected.

“My father has informed me that your father has fallen out of favour with our Lord. And while your parents will be killed, I have decided to allow you to live as my mistress. You're not bad looking, you’ve got a good body, and while you will have to learn your place, I'm sure it will not be too hard for you. Of course, in case you're wondering, there will not be an engagement; I could never marry the daughter of a traitor.”

Pansy gaped at him, simply unable to believe his arrogance.

Did he really think that she'd just agree to something as repulsive as that kind of arrangement with him? And that he'd declare it so obviously in public with the other Slytherins listening in was simply intolerable. He obviously thought she'd be grateful that she'd be allowed to have anything at all to do with him, and would show him the proper gratitude.

She smiled at him, fully aware that he'd think she was accepting his repugnant offer. And in a way, it was gratitude. Gratitude for the most perfect opportunity she could imagine.

“You disgusting, filthy, arrogant, spawn of a Death Eater,” she said loudly. “Do you honestly think that I would agree to a be degraded like that? By you of all people?”

“Huh?” Draco asked, looking shocked.

Pansy stood up and placed her hands on her hips. She could see Daphne shooting her encouraging glances - telling Draco exactly where to go had been a fantasy of both of theirs for so many years.

“I said, you ugly son of a bitch, do you honestly think that I would consent to being your whore. Were you stupid enough to think that I'd jump at the chance to spread my legs for you? I never had any intention of marrying you, you stupid idiot.”

“Of course you did, you’ve been throwing yourself at me since we began at Hogwarts,” Draco retorted indignantly, climbing to his own feet.

Pansy glanced up at the Professors’ table, and watched as Snape tried to get to his feet, before being unobtrusively slammed back down in to place by an unseen force. Dumbledore was watching curiously, not noticing his Potions professor being held down.

She laughed loudly and then grinned coldly at Draco.

“Actually, my dear toad face, I was hiding from you. Daphne and I have been playing with you for the past five years. You've been remarkably easy to fool, but then the better part of your brain is obviously in your trousers, and even that is amazingly small. You've spent all these years chasing after Daphne, while I've been running interference; making sure you never had any time to actually get close to her.”

“Yes,” Daphne agreed, getting to her feet as well, a smirk on her face. “You've been so busy chasing me with your tongue hanging, that you never even noticed what was under your rat-like nose.”

“Huh?” Draco said, his eyes wide, as he moved his head rapidly between the two girls.

“Take that ridiculous glamour spell off, Pansy,” Daphne ordered. “Show toad boy what he’s been ignoring and trying to get away from.”

Pansy pulled out her wand, and whispered, “Finite Incantatem .” She idly wondered what the change looked like to other people as the glamour spell vanished.

She enjoyed a few seconds of silence as Draco gaped at her and then she undid her robes, letting them fall to the floor. The dress she was wearing was not the school uniform, and it had been carefully chosen. It hugged her figure closely, emphasising both her legs and her bust, while leaving her shoulders bare. Her hair was loose and hanging in a wave down her back, and her make-up, carefully applied earlier, finished the look. She knew she looked good, and the stunned look on most of the boys’ faces she could see was more than adequate proof of that.

“Did you even realise that Daphne is the third best student in our year?” she demanded coldly. “Of course you didn't, since you fell for her beautiful, dumb blonde act. We've been playing with you for years, keeping you out of our hair, and you never once even thought to question what was happening. Things have changed, you arrogant son of a bitch. And neither of us is going to put up with your childish attention this year.”

“Our Lord,” Draco started to sneer.

“Your lord,” Pansy interrupted. “His name is Voldemort. Can you even say it? Now that you've publicly confessed to being a Death Eater, in front of all the professors, can you even say the name?”

Draco looked horrified, as he turned to look at the Professors.

Dumbledore looked profoundly disappointed, while some of the other professors looked shocked.

“I'm not a Death Eater,” Draco stuttered.

“Of course you're not,” Pansy agreed. “Why on earth would Voldemort want a bungling idiot like you? He already has your father to fill the Court Jester role.”

“My father,” Draco started again.

“Is impotent,” Pansy interrupted. “Figuratively and literally so, from what I hear. Haven't you noticed how frustrated he's been recently? He can’t find Fudge, his Werewolf Protection Act mysteriously dropped in the Wizengamot. His sudden addiction to the post-Cruciatus potion? No? Well, that's not surprising. You're not the brightest toad in the lake. You really don't know me very well at all, Malfoy. And you don't know my family. When we're faced with a threat, we work together, we come up with a plan, and we always win.”

She now knew exactly how she was going to finish this off, and she was going to get her desire to publicly claim Harry as well. She could feel Harry's amusement as he watched, and she sent him back a quick thank you for keeping the professors quiet.

“Do you know what our plan was?” she asked, with a malicious tone in her voice.

Draco gaped at her, shaking his head.

“We'd ally ourselves with the opposition, obviously. And we'd throw the Parkinson money and name behind them.” She could see a look of horror appearing on Dumbledore's face, and enjoyed it immensely, as she watched him put the clues together.

“Of course,” she continued, “That fact that he's the most honourable, gorgeous, smart, and powerful wizard of our generation was a bonus.” She paused and sighed, as Draco still looked blank. She turned her head, sweeping the students, and noted that Ginny had worked it out, Hermione was about to, while Ron still looked blank. Various other students seemed to have put it together as well.

“Come on, you ignorant toad,” Pansy sighed. “You can’t be as stupid as you look. Well, perhaps you can be. Powerful, fights Voldemort, good looking? How many students here does that that describe?” She enjoyed the look of horror that appeared on his face as he finally worked out that she was talking about Harry. “Should I add that he has gorgeous green eyes, and that he's defeated Voldemort time and time again? Should I add that he's spent the summer at my parents’ Manor? And that I've been sleeping with him since the night he arrived?” She smirked at the gasp that her pronouncement produced and at Harry as he bowed his head, laughing under his breath.

“Isn't it amazing,” she purred to Draco, “how Harry, despite not having any of the advantages that you've had growing up, is so much more of a man than you, you arrogant, egotistical, ugly, ignorant, spawn of an incompetent fool and an alcoholic?

“Harry's better looking than you are, he’s more powerful than you are, far richer than you will ever be, far braver, far more courageous, and,” she really hoped that Harry wouldn't be too upset with her for what she was about to say, “after having seen both of you naked, he's much, much, much , better equipped.” She hadn't actually seen Draco naked, but no one would doubt her word.

She turned on her heel and walked straight over to the Gryffindor table. Harry had moved to his feet and had his arms crossed across his chest, emphasising his healthy muscular stature. He had an amused look on his face, and she could feel him laughing inside her mind.

“I believe you owe me a kiss,” he said into the silence that was the Great Hall.

“I do?” she asked.

“Some things should definitely remain private,” he said, teasing glints in his eyes.

“What, that Draco's mother's an alcoholic?”

He shook his head. “That's common knowledge.”

“Oh, you mean the size thing.”

He nodded.

She grinned at him. “You're not the one with anything to hide,” she explained. “Unlike the emaciated dick-less wonder over there.”

“Even so,” he said, playing along with her, “that's the sort of thing that should remain private.”

“Oh,” she said. “In that case, I do owe you a kiss.” She took a couple of steps forward, and she slid her arms around his neck. She gently pulled his head down the inch she needed, and stood on tiptoes, softly kissing him. She felt his arms slide around her securely, and the rest of the school vanished. All she had was the feeling of his lips against hers, his warm hard body holding her so securely and his tongue gently sliding over hers. She gave into the kiss, closing her eyes, and pressing herself harder against him.

The kiss seemed to last forever but was over far too soon. She reluctantly let him go. “I love you,” she said softly, their audience nothing but a distant memory.

“I love you,” he said back, his hand sliding up and tracing the curve of her cheek. With a reluctant half-smile, he slowly dropped his hands. “You joining us, Daph?” he asked.

“Of course,” the blonde replied. She buttoned the top buttons of her blouse. “I can't tell you how glad I am that I don't have parade myself in front of that ugly rat anymore.”

Harry smiled at her. “I'll bet.”

Pansy met Daphne as she joined the Gryffindor table and hugged her tightly. “Thank you,” she said, wanting to make sure that everyone heard her. “I couldn't have survived all these years without you.”

Daphne grinned. “It was fun, but practicality does intrude here. Where exactly are we going to sit?”

“Dobby,” Harry called.

The house-elf appeared, and another gasp of shock echoed around the room, as Dobby was in his full uniform. “You rang, sir?”

Pansy looked at Harry and then burst out laughing.

“Not you, too,” Harry groaned at Dobby. “Can you add a few more places at this table?”

“Adding is one of Dobby’s specialities, Hary Potter, sir,” Dobby said smugly. He moved his hands, and the table stretched, creating two more places, one next to Hermione, one next to the place that had been kept for Harry.

“Thanks, Dobby. Is everything going okay with the other elves?”

Dobby frowned and shook his head. “The Hogwarts elves is not liking Dobby,” he said disgustedly. “Elves that lives a good life think that all elves lives good lives. They is not believing Dobby when he tells them of the misery of other elveses.”

“Do you want me to talk to them?”

Dobby shook his head. “Even Hogwarts elves will do as they has been told or elves be explaining themselves to Council.”

Harry nodded.

“Harry Potter sir, be sitting down and Dobby will be bringing dinner for Master Potter, Mistress Park'son sir, and the Blonde Greenie.”

“Thanks, Dobby,” Pansy said. “I'm starving.”

Dobby vanished with a pop.

“Blonde Greenie?” Daphne asked curiously, as she walked around the table to sit down opposite the two of them.

“Dobby likes to give titles to people,” Pansy explained as she sat down at the Gryffindor table. “I think my favourite one is Evil Snape,” she mused. “Although Smallest Wheezy is kinda cute,” she indicated Ginny, who was sitting the other side of Harry.

“Introductions, please?” she asked Harry, as the noise behind them picked up again. She had no idea what Draco had done, and would have to find out from Daphne later, as she was facing the Slytherin table.

“Of course,” Harry smiled. “Next to Daphne are Ron and Hermione, my two closest friends for the past five years at school. Guys, this is the real Pansy, who incidentally, is also the girl the damn Prophet wrote about.

“Next to me is one of my newer friends, Ron's sister, Ginevra Weasley - of course, if you call her by her given name, you'll probably be hit by her infamous Bat Bogey Hex.”

“And such a beautiful curse it is,” Pansy interrupted with a grin. “The memory of you casting it on Draco last year is one of my favourite school moment so far.”

“And,” Harry continued. “With G...” he trailed off as Ginny shook her head, and with a minor shrug, he continued smoothly, “Over here we have Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Neville Longbottom.”

“Hi,” Pansy said brightly to them.

There was an awkward silence on the table, as the Gryffindors were staring at Pansy, as each of them tried to reconcile their memories of the Pansy Parkinson with the bright smiling girl in front of them.

Next to Harry, Ginny took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly.

“Hi,” she said brightly. “You'll have to excuse the rest of the Gryffindors. They're never that awake at the first feast; my brother can never think on an empty stomach.”

They were interrupted by a slight cough from the McGonagall, and they swivelled as one to face Dumbledore. “If there are no more interruptions,” he said dryly. “Let the feast begin.”

“Strange,” Harry said, as the food started to appear. “He didn't say that the Forbidden forest was still forbidden.”

“And that would that stop you?” Pansy asked, eagerly digging into the chicken.

“Of course not,” Harry grinned. “The sooner I can have a talk with Aragog, the better.”

She felt his disappointment that his friends weren't responding, and smiled reassuringly at him, and sent him a quick thought of love.

He turned and shot her the slightly shy smile that only he could pull off, the one that he saved only for her. It was such an open look, and every time she saw it, it made her knees go weak.

“Who's Aragog?” Ginny asked.

“The Patriarch of the Acromantulas,” Harry responded. “Ron and I met him in our second year.”

Ginny nodded, and Pansy noticed that she paled slightly at the mention. A lot of things suddenly fell into place, and she decided to get Ginny alone as soon as she could.

“How are your parents?” Harry asked Daphne.

“They're in Geneva for a conference at the moment,” Daphne replied. “Then they're off to the Ukraine for a few months.”

“Do they ever come home?”

Daphne shook her head, “Not if they can help it. I don't think they even realise there's a war on at the moment.”

“Mum and Dad did during the first war,” Pansy said.

The conversation tapered off, as they concentrated on eating. Harry was frowning at Ron and Hermione, and Pansy sighed, realising that it wasn't going to be as easy as she had hoped.

After the meal, Harry pulled out a notebook from a pocket, and he scribbled a few words on it. “An idea,” he explained at Daphne's curious look.

The noise around the Hall started to pick up; as the shocked students turned to each other to try and make sure they had actually seen what they had thought they were seen. Over on the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy was hunched over, ignoring the whispering of the other students.

A few minutes later, the doors to the Great Hall swung open, and a tall man stalked in.

“Malcom?” Dumbledore said, getting to his feet.

Pansy grinned at her father who winked back at her.

“Good to see you to, Albus,” Malcom replied urbanely. “It's been such a long time.”

“Is there a problem?” Dumbledore asked.

“Of course not,” Malcom said. “I just thought I'd tell you the latest news in person.”

“How kind of you; shall we go to my office?”

“No need,” Malcom replied. “It affects everyone here, anyway. There was a meeting of the Board of Governors of Hogwarts this afternoon. With a unanimous vote, Lucius Malfoy was ejected from his position. It was felt that a convicted Death Eater was not the sort of person who should have influence at a school as hallowed as Hogwarts.

“And after his appalling behaviour in bowing to Fudge's will and unceremoniously ejecting you last year, the Board decided to ensure that it could never happen again.

“As the most revered Headmaster in the world, we can't have any two-bit Inquisitor questioning your position,” he added.

Pansy looked over at Umbridge, and enjoyed the look of hatred on her face. She obviously objected to being called a two-bit Inquisitor, and probably had a lot of grudges stored up from her inability to move away from Hogwarts over the summer.

“Thank you,” Dumbledore said formally. “Might I enquire as to whom has taken his position?”

“I have been honoured with that task, myself,” Malcom said with a dramatic flourishing bow. “They felt that, as someone with extensive Muggle interests, I would bring a new tolerance to the Governors, and to all students, no matter what their ancestry.”

“A move I'm sure that we all appreciate,” Dumbledore said dryly.

Malcom nodded. “I look forward to our first meeting next week.”

“As do I.”

Malcom turned on his heel, and he started to walk out.

“Malcom?” Harry called.

“Yes, Harry?”

“Aren't you forgetting something?”

“Of course,” Malcom said, stopping. “You know what I'm like.”

Harry grinned, “Without Gruoch, I do indeed.”

“Be nice,” Malcom grinned.

“I am nice,” Harry protested with a grin.

“You better be – that's still my daughter who's on your arm.”

Pansy smirked at her father, enjoying the two men in her life bantering.

Harry waved his hand airily. “Your announcement,” he prodded.

“Oh, yes.” The taller man said, as he turned to face the teachers. “What on earth gave you the idea that you had the right to give Harry a Quidditch ban that extended outside Hogwarts?” he demanded of Umbridge.

“What?” the Professor replied, a dumbstruck look on her face.

“I read the reports about what happened during that match,” Malcom said in a bored voice. “Your actions were ridiculously biased, unfair, and a complete misuse of the small power Fudge gave you. Harry's ban on Quidditch is hereby lifted, and you will return his broom to him immediately.”

“You can't do that,” Umbridge spluttered.

“Of course I can,” Malcom replied. “I have the full backing of the board of Governors, and Fudge himself. Now be a good girl and give Harry his broom back. You confiscated it, remember?”

Umbridge gulped, and then looked around nervously. Pansy felt a lead weight settle in her stomach. Something bad was about to happen; she could feel it.

“I can't,” she whispered.

“What?” Malcom demanded, his causal demeanour vanishing, being replaced by the look of a very dangerous man. “And just why can't you?”

Umbridge gulped again, and she looked around for help. Dumbledore was staring at her, his expression stating quite clearly that he wasn't going to offer her any help.

“It’s broken,” she mumbled reluctantly.

“You did what ?” Malcom growled.

Pansy shuddered, and turned, wrapping her arms around Harry firmly. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up, as Harry began to generate an awesome amount of writhing magical power. She could feel him staring at the fat toad-like Professor, and she pressed herself against him harder, pushing calming thoughts at him as hard as she could. His mind was like a diamond at the moment, completely impenetrable, but she kept pushing anyway, not wanting him to do anything rash at the moment.

Dobby suddenly appeared with a pop,

“Why is Master Harry Potter being angry?” the elf growled, his eyes narrowing in a look of anger that seemed completely out of place on a house-elf’s face.

“She,” Pansy nodded towards Umbridge, “broke Harry's broom.”

“Where are the pieces being?” Dobby demanded, turning to the witch.

“They are being… I mean, they are in my, my, closet,” Umbridge stuttered, staring at the smartly dressed elf.

Dobby popped out and was back in a second, the two broken pieces of the broom in his hands. He handed them to Harry. “Master Potter can be fixing this.”

Harry shook his head, and looked at Dobby. “You can't fix a broken broom, Dobby” he said.

“Wizard magic can't be fixing broken brooms,” Dobby agreed. “Elf magic can do the fixing but elves are not being with enough power. Master Potter, sir has powers enough.”

Harry slowly smiled, and Pansy breathed a huge sigh of relief. The tension and promise of violence filling the room leaked away as Harry regained control. There was still a look of fear on a lot of the students’ faces, which, she decided, was probably a good thing. The sooner the sheep realised that Harry was not to be trifled with this year, the better.

Dobby sat down on the floor, cross legged, Harry sat on the floor across from him, the pieces of broom resting between them.

Around the room, everyone looking intrigued with what was going on. The Ravenclaws as a house seemed even more so that the other houses. Opposite her, Hermione seemed to have put aside what ever was bothering her earlier, and was paying very close attention.

“Master Potter will be taking his magics, like when viewing magic.”

Harry nodded, and his eyes started to glow an intense green.

“Now, Master Potter sir will be needing to be seeing magic in the broom, with the broken charms.”

Harry nodded and raised his hands. The two pieces of the broom floated into the air in front of him.

“Master Potter needs to be joining the charms now,” Dobby said quietly.

Pansy felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise again, but this time it was much more focused and she watched as Harry extended his hands, making obscure shapes in the air around the broom.

“Harry Potter sir just need join wood of broom now,” Dobby said quietly.

Harry nodded and slowly brought his hands together. The wood seemed to fuse with an audible snap, and as the feeling of magic vanished, Harry stood up. The broom dropped to the floor, and with a slight smile, he simply said, “Up.” The boom jumped into his hand, and he smiled brightly. “Thank you, Dobby.”

Dobby beamed with pleasure and bowed to Harry. The house-elf turned and waved his hand at Umbridge.

The professor had just taken a bite of the food in front of her, and spat it out in disgust.

“What did you do, Dobby?” Malcom asked curiously.

“Dobby made her food taste like flies,” Dobby explained. “Most fitting for a toad woman. Might even help with her weight.”

Pansy laughed, while her father struggled to keep a smile from forming on his face. “Not the punishment I was going to enact,” he said, “but suitable all the same. Quid pro quo and all that. Albus, I'll see you next week. Harry, I'll keep you informed of everything that's going on.”

“Thanks, Malcom,” Harry replied, absently moving his arm around Pansy. “Why don't we meet up before your meeting with Dumbledore?”

“I'll see you next week. Cause havoc.”

Pansy grinned. “Bye, Dad.”

“Okay,” Harry said, looking around. “I think we've provided enough entertainment for today. Dobby, are our rooms ready?”

Dobby nodded.

“Excellent, and thank you, again.”

“Harry Potter sir is a good friend and a good master,” Dobby said simply. “Dobby is always being happy to help.” The elf popped away.

“Pansy, let’s get out of here. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Daphne, we need to talk.”

He turned, and walked out. Pansy trailed after him, the others following her.

Minerva McGonagall surveyed the Great Hall thoughtfully. It had certainly been the most eventful start to the year that she had ever seen. Although with foreknowledge, she had been able to see how well it had been choreographed. There had been a lot of subtle messages that might have bypassed most of the students, but certainly wouldn't have bypassed Albus.

The biggest was Malcom making it clear that he worked for Harry, not the other way around. It spoke of a deep trust that the older man had for the younger boy, and their bantering and use of in jokes had also shown a close relationship.

She'd never really thought about it, but Malcom was probably the first normal male that Harry had come into contact with. His uncle certainly wasn't normal, and Arthur Weasley, as nice a person as he was, was more like a kid than some of his children. Albus himself gave the impression of being slightly mad.

When Pansy had removed the glamour spell, a lot of pieces had fallen into place. She had wondered exactly what Harry had seen in the girl, and that had been suddenly very obvious. She had occasionally thought about why Pansy had looked nothing like her parents, and she had put it down to her looking like her grandparents. The tall, elegant girl hidden beneath the spell had definitely received the best features of both her parents. And Pansy's heartfelt declaration of love had actually touched her and showed just how much things had changed.

She had never felt afraid of a student before, but seeing Harry almost lose his temper had been the closest she had come. The power the boy, well, no, the man, now possessed was truly awesome, and she could almost taste the potential for violence in the air. He had looked like he was a second away from attacking Umbridge, and she wouldn’t give the bloated Professor any chance at all of survival if Harry had decided to attack.

What she had also noted was that far from pulling away, Pansy had pushed herself closer to Harry, completely unafraid of the violence and power he possessed, and had helped restrain him.

Which then led to Dobby, the first house-elf she had ever seen wearing clothes properly; clothes that both fitted and suited him. He looked extremely smart, and obviously had the confidence to act independently. His punishment for Umbridge had been most amusing, especially his comment about her size. But as a teacher, she found the most amazing thing was how he helped Harry mend his broom. What wasn't as good to realise was that Harry was probably the only person present who could begin to master elf magic.

The way they had both acted demonstrated a direct manipulation of magic. It meant gathering your power and controlling it directly, without a keyword to release it to your will. She had no doubt at all that Harry could do wandless magic – if he could do elf magic, it would be easy.

He hadn't lied when he had said that not being polite to Snape would be the smallest rule he would break. And then he had completely ignored the questions about his Apparition, which she was pretty sure was a diversion. She wondered exactly what had transpired between them that had made Snape so scared. Harry talking about being possessed by Voldemort worried her, as she hadn't heard anything about that. What she did know was that he had hidden a threat in his conversation; the 'Sins of the Student' doctrine sounded ominous, and she resolved to look it up as soon as she could.

She turned to look at the Headmaster next to her, and realised that he was tired. It was a strange thing to think, as he had always appeared invincible. As she thought back, as to how old he actually was, she slowly started to realise that his tiredness might very well be genuine.

“Prefects, please escort the first years to their dorms,” she said, as she stood, effectively dismissing the Hall. “Might I suggest that we adjourn to your office?” McGonagall said quietly to the Headmaster. “I believe we have a lot to discuss.”

“Harry,” Pansy said, lightly touching his arm. He raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly at her. “Why don't you take Ron and Hermione to our room?” she suggested. “Leave Ginny, Daphne, and I to have a chat. I think you three need some privacy.”

He nodded, “Good idea, love.” He turned to his friends. “Follow me,” he told them curtly, and like scolded children, they followed.

Ginny looked nervous as her friends left her alone with two Slytherins.

“Daph?”

The blonde witch smiled cheerfully. “Let's go to the Library. I'll set up a charm so you two can speak privately.”

“Thanks,” Pansy said. “Come on, Ginny. I promise not to bite.”

Ginny sighed and followed. “All my Gryffindor instincts are telling me to get ready to fight.”

“That's okay,” Pansy grinned. “My Slytherin instincts are telling me to curse you straight off, so if we both agree to use our minds instead of our instincts for a change, we'll get somewhere.”

Ginny laughed. “I thought Slytherins weren't allowed a sense of humour?”

“We're not,” Daphne responded promptly. “This is a cunning appearance of a sense of humour to lull you into a sense of false security.”

“Ahh,” Ginny said. “In which case, I'm simply playing along, looking for an opportunity to apply some Gryffindor heroism, which will no doubt lead to an heroic death.”

“That's the spirit,” Pansy grinned. “If you want, we can arrange for a Basilisk?”

Ginny froze at those words, her face going white.

“I'm sorry,” Pansy apologised, walking up to the smaller girl and pulling her into a hug. “I had to know for sure. And Harry would never tell me.”

“Err, what's going on?” Daphne asked, a lost expression on her face.

“Don't worry about it, Daph,” Pansy said. “It's one of the things that Ginny and I need to talk about.” She carefully kept hold of the younger girl, and pulled her into a corner of the library.

Daphne shrugged, cast a spell surrounding with impenetrable silence and sat down with a book.

“How did you know?” Ginny asked brokenly.

“You flinched when Harry mentioned his second year earlier, and a lot of things fell into place. Daphne and I had already guessed it was a student. You were possessed, weren't you?”

Ginny looked up slowly, searching Pansy face. “How did you know that?”

“I didn't,” Pansy said quietly. “But Harry would not be friends with you if you weren’t a good person. So that left just one thing. I put that together with the malicious delight on your face when you cursed Draco last year, leading me to guess that it had something to do with Lucius.”

Ginny nodded. “Lucius gave me a diary with Tom Riddle's personality trapped inside it. I poured my heart out to the bloody thing, and he gave me advice. When I was feeling ignored and alone, he was my friend. I told the diary everything, and I didn't even notice as he slowly took control of me. I tried to fight it, but it seemed like I would never be free of it.”

“And Harry went into the Chamber of Secrets and rescued you.”

Ginny nodded again, a couple of tear tracks marking her pale face.

“And no one knows, but Harry, Ron, Hermione, the Professors and your parents?”

“And now you.”

Pansy nodded in agreement. “It will go no further.”

“Why not?”

Pansy pulled out her wand and turned a scrap of paper into a tissue. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Ginny said quietly.

“I've been wondering how to handle today for the past few weeks,” Pansy said quietly. “Ever since I knew that Harry and I would be coming back to Hogwarts as a couple.”

“How to deal with his friends?”

Pansy nodded. “And you in particular. I take it you're not dating Thomas?”

“Dean? No. I said that to get Ron off my back.”

“You do know that Harry thought you were telling the truth back then?”

Ginny nodded and sighed softly. “Ever had the feeling that a few words spoken in the heat of the moment can change your life forever?”

“Yes,” Pansy admitted. “Because those words changed my life as well. Harry fell in love with me because he thought that you were not only unavailable, but being taken care of by someone else. That left him open to other possibilities .”

Ginny lowered her head and banged it against the table.

“I really didn't want to hear that,” she mumbled. “So, why are we here having this discussion?”

“Well, what normally happens in this situation is that I try and be friendly to you, in a slightly fake manner, and you are snide back to me. We try and maintain civility for a few days, and then we threaten each other. You and I are frosty to each other around Harry, and at each other’s throats in private. After a while, something happens, and you lose Harry's friendship as I'm the one he's in love with, and he's upset, but eventually gets over it, and you're left by the sidelines.”

“You're so sure you'd win?”

Pansy nodded. “I'm a lot more of a bitch than you will ever be, Ginny,” she said simply. “And I'm already sleeping with him.”

Ginny nodded, conceding the point.

“On top of that, Harry loves my parents as much as he loves yours. So while it would hurt him to lose contact with your family, it wouldn't be as bad as it might once have been. And on the off chance that you might become a threat to me in the future, I would probably destroy your family, just in case.”

Ginny laughed suddenly. “Just in case?”

Pansy grinned, “Hey, we’re talking major bitch here, remember?”

“So why aren't you doing that?”

Pansy sighed. “Harry.”

“You're in love with him?”

Pansy nodded. “Painfully and completely. And he makes me want to change and be a better person – my bitch-queen side is not happy about it. And my jealousy of you to one side, I want to be friends with you.”

Ginny blinked. “You're jealous of me? What on earth for?”

Pansy looked up. “Have you looked in a mirror recently?”

“What?”

“Oh please,” Pansy rolled her eyes. “You've got the most amazing complexion – that pale translucent skin, deep brown, soulful eyes, and boobs that are, what, a b-cup?”

Ginny nodded, looking shocked.

“Same size as me, but on your frame they look huge. You're small and cute, just the right size to sit in Harry's lap. I have to sit next to him and swing my legs over his lap. And that's without that mane of red hair that I'd kill for.”

“Oh please,” Ginny responded. “You're gorgeous. You're got this amazing elegance, legs that go on forever and can look him in the eyes without either of you cricking your neck. And your hair; I'd kill for hair that behaved itself like that.”

Pansy grinned suddenly, and laughed. A laugh that magnified when Ginny joined in. “So, that grass not really greener?”

“Probably not,” Ginny smiled back. “But you haven't explained yourself yet.”

“Typical Gryffindor,” Pansy said. “No patience.”

“Typical Slytherin,” Ginny grinned, “takes ages to get to the bloody point.”

“Okay,” Pansy said softly. “I want us to be friends. I know it's going to be hard for you, but Harry really likes you as your own person and not as an addition to Ron. I don't think I'm ever going to be too close to Ron, as he manages to annoy me at a distance, and I think I'm going to have a major personality clash with Hermione.

“Added to that, you're the most powerful witch in Gryffindor, magic wise, and we're going to need everyone we can get to help. If you don't think you can do it, and in your position, I doubt I'd be able to, I'd prefer it if you would say so right now.”

Ginny sighed softly, “I swore this summer that I would make friends with Harry's girlfriend, no matter who she was, or how hard it was. I felt that I owed Harry that much for how open he was in offering to be with my phantom boyfriend. I resigned myself to having lost him over the summer. You know, I'm still in love with him, right?”

Pansy nodded, smiling slightly.

“I'm going to live up to my promise to myself.” She held out her hand. “Friends?”

Pansy grinned and ignored the hand. She stood and walked around the table and pulled the smaller girl into a hug. “Friends,” she agreed. “Now, let's bring Daphne in here, and gossip.”

Ginny smiled. “Gossip?”

“Gossip?” Daphne asked as she cancelled the spell, and casually recreated it behind her. “I want some gossip. Just how big is his dark hotness?”

Ginny laughed. “Dark hotness?”

“Oh yeah,” Daphne sighed. “If he wasn't so nuts about the princess here, I'd be over him like a rash.”

Ginny giggled, “Me too. Let’s say we overpower her, tie him to a bed, and find out for ourselves?”

Daphne looked thoughtful. “Well, there are two of us. We could probably take her.”

Pansy smirked slightly and moved, a flash of steel glinting in the light.

“On the other hand,” Ginny said calmly. “Perhaps we should leave them be.”

“Exactly how can you sound so calm with a knife at your throat?” Daphne asked.

Ginny smiled wryly. “Practice; I've fought Death Eaters with Harry.”

Pansy nodded, sliding her knife and wand away. “I practised a little with Harry over the summer.”

“Do I want to know where you keep that knife?” Daphne asked dryly.

“Probably not,” Pansy grinned. “And by the way, I don't want to advertise the fact that I'm more than arm-candy for Harry. It will be a nice surprise when I need to use it for real.”

Daphne and Ginny nodded. “You didn't answer the question, though.”

Pansy laughed, “And I'm not going to.”

“Oh come on,” Daphne teased, “we're all friends here.”

“Yeah,” Ginny agreed with an impish look on her face. “Spill the beans, Parkinson.”

Pansy groaned and raised her hands.

Ginny and Daphne looked at each other. “Still think we could take her?” Daphne asked.

“If we did, do you think we could take Harry?”

Daphne sighed, “Probably not. He doesn’t like blondes anyway. Just brunettes and red heads.”

Ginny shook her head, leaning back in the chair. “Actually he’s pretty egalitarian when it comes down to externals. Cho's has black hair. He cares about the person, not hair colour.”

“Gee,” Daphne said dryly. “Thanks. I was so happy with my delusion there, Ginny, and you had to go ruin it for me.”

“So, Ginny,” Pansy said. “Should Daphne and I set you up with a guy?”

“What?” Ginny asked, her arms flailing as she almost over balanced.

“Do you want a boyfriend?”

“Blunt, aren't you?”

“Family trait,” Daphne smirked. “She’s subtle compared to her mum.”

Pansy leaned over and pushed Daphne playfully. “Shush, you.” She turned to Ginny. “And you answer the question.”

“No,” Ginny sighed. “I'd be comparing them to Harry, and that wouldn't be fair to either of us. I'm going to be single for a while. Till you guys leave.”

Pansy nodded, “Daph?”

“Different reason, same answer,” she said. “I've got enough on my plate, making sure I get good grades and that we all survive this bloody war.”

Pansy pouted. “So you're saying I can't matchmake?”

“No, you can’t,” Daphne said clearly, and looked over at Ginny. “She's in that, 'I'm deliriously happy, so everyone else should be' mood that girls in love get. If she starts talking about it again, we'll just have to lock her in a closet till she gets out of it.”

“Is that with, or without, Harry?” Ginny asked.

“Without, obviously.”

“You wouldn't be so cruel!” Pansy cried melodramatically.

“Of course we would,” Ginny grinned. “You've got what we want.”

“Pfft,” Pansy replied.

“And what would your mum say if she heard you say that?”

“That I could put my tongue to much better use with Harry?” Pansy asked wickedly.

“Pansy!” Ginny laughed.

“Actually,” Daphne said slowly, “That's probably exactly what Gruoch would say.”

“Really?” Ginny asked. “Mine would lock me up in my room for a month, on the off chance that I might think of using it for something else.”

“Mum's treated me as an adult since I was twelve,” Pansy explained softly. “She let me look after Harry when I needed to, and she trusted me to make my own decision.

“I'm not going to tell you what happened – that's Harry's story to tell. But there is one more thing we need to talk about.”

“Oh?” Daphne asked.

Pansy nodded. “Daphne and I are both have money, a lot of it. The three of us are going to shop, go out, drink, what ever we feel like doing, because that's what we do and that's what we enjoy. You are going to be coming with us, and we're going to pay for you without thinking about it. We know you can't pay and that's not going to bother us, at all. Is it going to bother you?”

Ginny blinked, repeatedly. Her mouth opened, and shut, as she tried to formulate a response.

Daphne grinned. “I think you broke her. That bluntness of yours could be a weapon!”

Pansy laughed. “Really? I just wanted to get the uncomfortable thing out the way first.”

Ginny leaned forwards and placed her head in her hands. “It's going to cause problems,” she said. “But Ron has always been more sensitive about it than I have. It will probably make me feel uncomfortable, but I'm creative, I'll just come up with different ways to pay you back.”

Pansy smiled and held her hand out. “So, friends?”

Ginny looked at Daphne, “Why are you being friendly to me?”

“Bluntness is obviously contagious today,” Daphne said to Pansy. “Pansy has been my only friend for the past five years. I made friends with Harry over this summer. Harry's always held you in high regard, so that's a plus for you. Pansy, as secretive as she tries to be, chose you to make friends with first, another plus for you. So, two of the most powerful people of our generation either have you as a friend, or want you as a friend. That's enough for my Slytherin nature, and having seen how you've acted over the past twenty minutes, I think we could be very close. I love and trust Pansy. I'm open to more.” She held out her hand, taking Pansy's.

“I've got to be insane for doing this,” Ginny sighed. “But what the hell, let's make friends with a love rival, not to mention two Slytherins.” She reached out, and took their hands as well.

“Friends.”

Harry walked into the Room of Requirement, and casually chucked his Broom into one corner.

“Sit,” he said calmly, nodding to a couch in one corner. He waved his hand casually, and an armchair floated over and landed by the couch.

He walked over and picked up a glass of water and took a deep breath. He idly wondered if his short temper was due to the long day, but he was willing to admit that he was also suffering from Pansy withdrawal – one kiss did not make up for a day being apart.

He paced, trying to decide where to start, before throwing himself down in to the chair.

“Okay, why the silent treatment?”

Ron and Hermione looked at each other for a second.

“Harry, you’re out of your bloody mind! You can't trust a Slytherin!” Ron blurted. “How can you be dating Parkinson, of all people?”

“That was a remarkably stupid thing to say,” Harry noted icily. He ignored the blush that formed on Ron's face. “Hermione?”

“How can you keep Dobby as a slave? That is exactly the sort of thing S.P.E.W. was formed to fight against.”

“I had a wonderful summer, thank you,” Harry said, closing his eyes. “And I can't tell you how much I missed both of you. I was so looking forward to seeing you again, catching up with what we all did, how we had changed, how we had grown up.” He paused for a second. “I can't tell you how I feel right now. How disappointed I am in both of you.

“First, Ron, you make a judgement based on a House, of all things, without a single question to me as to what happened, and I know that you know I was rescued by someone. And then you, Hermione, my other best friend decides that as I have a house-elf, I've suddenly become some form of plantation owner. Now that we've got the knee jerk reaction out of the way, how about we start again?”

Harry heard some shuffling opposite him. “I wouldn't bother losing your temper, Ron,” he said casually. “We're going to discuss this like adults, even if I have to petrify you.”

He reluctantly opened his eyes. Both his friends were gaping him.

“I never knew you had fillings, Hermione.”

Hermione snapped her mouth shut with an audible click, and she blushed furiously.

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Harry interrupted. “I really hope you've had a think about what you're going to say before you say it.”

Ron shut his mouth again, a blush reappearing.

“You've changed,” Hermione said.

Harry took a deep breath, and reigned in the sarcastic comment he had about to reply with. He needed to remember he wasn't with Malcom and Gruoch anymore.

“Obviously.”

“What happened over the summer?” Hermione asked.

Harry exhaled slowly. “That should really have been your first question,” he noted. “After I left Hogwarts, I went straight home. The Dursleys were being all right to me, but only because they had been scared into it. But I didn't care; I was too busy mourning for Sirius and castigating myself for the mistakes that I made. My nightmares returned with a vengeance, and I couldn't sleep. Even when I was awake, I couldn't escape the memories of Cedric's look as he died, the sound of my mother screaming, Sirius falling through the Veil. I hardly ate, and what little I did eat was what Ron's mum had given to me. And then everything went hazy, as the symptoms of Wizarding Flu started to show. The Dursleys locked me away, scared I would infect them.”

“Muggles can't catch Wizarding Flu,” Hermione interrupted. “It only affects wizards.”

“They’re too stupid to know that, and didn’t care to find out either,” Harry said with a nod. “I was dying. I hadn't eaten, and even in my delusions, I couldn't sleep either. I felt like I was going to die. Even worse was that I wanted to die. I wanted it to all be over. I wanted the pain to stop.”

He paused and looked at the horrified faces of his friends. “I want you to know how far I was gone,” he continued quietly. “How far down I had fallen. I was locked in a cycle of pain and misery, and I didn't want to get better, I just wanted it to stop. I guess it was a natural follow up of my behavioural problems of last year.

“And then, like in a story book, an angel appeared above me. She had shining grey eyes that I could see in the darkness, and she promised to look after me, to help me. For the first time I felt hope, that someone cared, even if it was an ethereal creature from beyond. For a second, I was disappointed that it wasn't my Mum, but that soon passed.

“Then I fell asleep again. I can vaguely remember being levitated out of the house and into a car and a long drive with someone stroking my forehead.

“The next thing I remember was being fed some potions, and I was starting to feel better, if tired. The angel promised again to look after me, and I managed to get some sleep before the nightmares returned. When I woke up, I was in a huge room in a bed that put the Hogwarts beds to shame. And next to me was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I watched her sleep, trying to work out who it was. I knew that she knew me, as she had called me by name the night before, and I had it down to three or four people, and a suspicion as to who it was exactly. I watched her sleep for a long time, examining her, thinking about what had happened, and it gave me some quiet time to think about the situation I was in. I've been kidnapped before, I've been unconscious many times, but I have never woken up like that before. It was almost unreal - that I had moved from the Dursleys and that truly awful room, to being in the same bed as an Angel. Thinking about everything, I made a simple decision, to take charge of my life. I decided to listen to what people had to say, but never let anyone take a decision for me again. This is my life, and I have to deal with it. And do you know why I was in such a state, why I felt I had to make that decision?

The two teenagers opposite him shook their heads mutely.

“Because of a prophecy, one that Dumbledore told me at the end of term.” He took a deep breath, and then recited, “T he one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...”

Hermione gasped, paling dramatically.

“What?” Ron asked.

“It means that Harry has to kill Voldemort, and if he doesn't, Voldemort will kill him.”

“Exactly,” Harry said calmly. “My destiny is laid out before me; it's been set in stone for years. Now, I'm finally taking control of it.”

Ron gulped as both he, and Hermione, digested the thought.

“The rest of the summer I spent training with Pansy. Malcom and Gruoch arranged for some of the best teachers in the business to tutor us. During that time, I fell in love with Pansy. They have treated me like an adult, have told me the unvarnished truth every step of the way, and never once hid stuff from me.” He slowly stopped talking and looked directly at Ron. “So telling me that I can't trust the people who I have lived with for most of the summer really wasn't the best way to get going.”

“But they're Parkinsons,” Ron protested. “Everyone knows that they are dark.”

“And your proof is?”

“What?”

“Where is your proof that they are dark?”

“Dad says that they're as bad as the Malfoys.”

Harry nodded. “Your dad got that from Dumbledore,” he explained. “And their reputation was enhanced .”

“How can you know that? They've been dark for ages.”

Harry sighed and pulled his magic into his eyes. “What's your full name?”

“Ronald Bilius Weasley,” Ron said without hesitation.

Harry dropped his power back down.

“What was that?” Hermione asked.

“Something I learnt from Dumbledore. You take your magic, pull it under your control, and look at someone. They can't lie to you, unless they are prepared beforehand.”

Ron gulped. “I would have told you anything,” he admitted.

Harry nodded.

“That's how I know,” he said simply. “They are grey, not black, not white. And you know what? It suits me. I like them that way, and I like Pansy being that way.”

“But she's a Slytherin.”

“Did you pay attention to anything she said to Draco?”

“That she called him dickless,” Ron said, grinning suddenly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and elbowed Ron.

Harry sighed audibly, and leant back in the chair, crossing his feet at the ankles. “I meant before that. Think, Ron. How would you feel? You're intelligent, you've recently watched your cousin die in front of you, and you think your parents want to marry you off to someone you hate for the sake of expediency. What do you do?”

“Dunno,” Ron said with a shrug.

“Pansy decided to hide in plain sight. Sure, it was a Slytherin thing to do, but between her and Daph, they both managed to survive for more or less unharmed for years. The first thing she did this summer was apologise to me, and I accepted it.”

“But still,” Ron protested.

Harry sighed slowly. “Your turn,” he said to Hermione.

“How can you have a house-elf? How can you enslave another living being?”

“Who said I had?” Harry asked, aware that he was being provocative, but he felt it was the best way to get this conversation out and over with.

“What?”

“Who said that I had enslaved Dobby?” he repeated patiently.

“He called you master .”

“That he did, and sadly, I can't control what he says. In fact, I think he was being a lot more formal because he was in public, and wanted to give a good impression. You know, the thing that I'm most disappointed with is that despite everything you have between your ears, you've just jumped to a conclusion. Dobby works for me. I doubled his wages from Dumbledore, I've given him time off, and I've made very good close friends with him. Don't judge house-elves by their speech patterns; they are highly intelligent and have a whole world of magic that I'm still exploring.

“You want to know how I Apparated into Hogwarts?” He didn't wait for a reply to his rhetorical question. “I didn't. I faked it. Dobby showed me how the elves travel from one place to another, and I used that. It only took a small spell to make the crack-like sound as I arrived.

“What do you know about the Elf Council?”

“The what?” Ron asked blankly.

“Hermione?”

“Many years ago, before the elves started to work for wizards, a Council of elf elders had a similar position to the Ministry of Magic for wizards.”

“The Elf Council has been reformed. Dobby arranged for it. He has spent a lot of time over the summer showing other elves how elves should be treated. Speaking of which, Hermione, you are going to have to stop trying to free the Hogwarts house elves.”

“What? No, I won't! I will not sit by and watch enslaved creatures work for me.”

Harry sighed audibly. “Okay. Every house-elf is now free. What now?”

“What?”

“Now that every house-elf has been freed, what is going to happen to them?”

“They will get jobs, be treated better.”

“Just like that?”

“Why not?”

“Who will do the hiring? How will they apply for jobs? How will they negotiate fair terms for themselves?”

Hermione went silent for a second. “People will take care of them.”

“Why should they? They are free now. The very thing you are protesting against is the misuse of the elves, and now that they are free, why would they suddenly stop abusing the elves and care for them?”

“It would be a better situation than they are in now; at least they would be free,” Hermione protested.

“Freedom that they don't want and can't handle. You can't just force an entire race to change and not give them any support.”

“The Ministry would help out.”

“The Ministry is funded by taxes, taxes from the public purse. Can you see the Wizarding world accepting that they have to pay more for a race of sub creatures?”

“They are not a sub race.”

“I know that,” Harry replied. “But look at how the rest of the world treats them. Which means we're back to the start again. Last year, Dobby had to clean all of Gryffindor Tower on his own because no other elf would dare go into there, in case they were suddenly freed.

“I'm a little surprised that you didn't do your homework on this, Hermione.”

“What do you mean?” the girl demanded, looking upset at Harry’s comment

“Hogwarts house-elves are the most conservative elves on the planet. They have always been treated properly, and as such, they see no reason for things to change. The only abuse you have ever seen was Dobby, a house elf that belonged to the Malfoy family, and Winky, an elf belonging to another Death Eater family. You saw two elves being abused and heard rumours of other elves suffering abuse, and you immediately decided that you knew what was right for an entire race. You can not just try and free a whole race, without some form of plan for the future.”

Hermione and Ron were both looking at Harry in shock, expressions that bordered on fear on their faces.

Harry leant back, suddenly realising that he had lost some control of his power. He clamped it down ruthlessly. “If you want,” he said in a quiet voice. “I can tell you what we have planned to free the house-elves properly.”

“But you just said you can't do that,” Hermione protested.

“I said you can't do it without a support system in place,” he corrected her. “I've been working with Malcom and Dobby, and through Dobby, the Elf Council to come up with a solution to the mistreatment of the elves. I hate it as much as you do, possibly more, because Dobby is one of my best friends, and I've seen first hand what wonderful people the elves can become.”

“What do you have planned?” Hermione asked, leaning forwards.

“After Voldemort is defeated, the Elf Council will send an edict to the Ministry, effectively announcing the secession of the elves as a whole. The elves entered into voluntary slavery over a thousand years ago, in return for the protection of the wizarding society, after a devastating war with the goblins.”

“That's not in any of the history books,” Hermione pointed out.

“No, the information has been kept quiet by the Ministry. The Elf Council knows, and still has records to prove it. It is a voluntary agreement that can be cancelled at any time.

“Malcom has spent some time talking to the Goblins, and they are not interested in war, not anymore. It would be bad for business, and frankly, they think the idea of slavery is a little repugnant.

“Once the announcement is made, the elves will travel, as one, to one of the properties I now own, which I have given to them as a gesture of friendship. From there, those that want to will be able to live their lives in freedom. However, both I and the Council are aware that most elves love what they do, and also that the immediate end of service will devastate the Wizarding economy.

“So, the elves will form a company where any family desiring to do so will be able to pay a nominal amount, say five galleons a month, for a house-elf. That house-elf will then work set hours, have regular time off, and get four of the galleons for themselves.

“Anyone who mistreats an elf will be tried in the courts for abuse, will permanently be barred from hiring anymore house elves, and any existing contracts will be immediately declared null and void.”

“But what if people don't want to pay?”

“The house-elves have a place to live, and I expect it will become the cleanest place in the country.”

Hermione was looking at him, her eyes wide. “The Ministry won't accept that.”

Harry smiled slowly, “Oh, but they will.”

“Harry James Potter,” Hermione said, a smile appearing on her face. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

“That depends,” Harry grinned. “Are you over me hiring Dobby?”

“Harry, you appeared to Apparate into Hogwarts, you did something to Snape...”

“Which was bloody brilliant,” Ron intervened.

“Language, Ron,” Hermione sighed. “You didn't answer any of Dumbledore's questions. We then had to watch as someone we've come close to hating, not only showed that she's been hiding in plain sight for years, but is in love with you - that your mysterious girlfriend is not only a Slytherin, but is the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the country, and then we realise that this man is working for you, and not the other way around. And to top it off, you do some of the most powerful magic anyone here has ever seen, and do it with the sort of casualness that only comes after long practice. Is it any wonder that we're stunned, that we get locked into a loop?

We're your friends Harry, we've been with you for so many years, and we have no intention of stopping being friends now. But think about it from our perspective. All we've heard from you is a couple of letters over the summer. We know why, and we understand, but the changes in you aren't something we can just shrug and casually accept. They are too big, too massive; too much has changed. It's almost like you're a different person. You obviously know Pansy very well. A lot has happened over the summer, we accept that, but you can't just expect us to welcome her with open arms. We don't even know her - the last we saw of her, she was working for Umbridge’s squad, helping get Dumbledore thrown out of school. You've just thrown everything at us all at once and expected us to handle it, like you would. We're not you. We can't just roll with things the way you can. We have our own thoughts, our own feelings, we have our own opinions, and that's why were such good friends, because our differences help each other out. The sum is greater than the parts.”

Harry looked thoughtfully at his friends, slowly digesting what they she had said, and he reluctantly realised it was true. He had just dropped a series of major bombshells. They hadn't been aimed at his friends, but they had been caught in the blast, and had reacted by concentrating on one thing, something they could understand.

“I'm sorry,” he apologised. “I honestly didn't think of how the changes I've been through would affect you. I have changed, and I am going to need you to change as well. I've grown up over the summer, started to become the man I am going to be. The man I need to be, if I’m to survive. Are you willing to grow up as well?”

“We don't have a choice, Harry,” Hermione answered. “We will be growing up anyway, everyone does. Well, most people, anyway.”

Harry smiled slightly. “Ron, what about you?”

Ron groaned, “Most of this conversation's gone straight over my head. Look, I'm willing to give Pansy a chance, all right? I think she's still a Slytherin, and they're bad news. But she did insult and humiliate Malfoy in public, and I did enjoy that immensely. As for this growing up business, I think it's a horrid idea. Absolutely disgusting – no pranks, and being responsible, sounds impossible.

“But,” he continued, a smile appearing on his face, “having a beautiful girlfriend has pointed out a benefit or two of growing up that far outweighs the horrors of responsibility.”

Harry laughed, “I've missed you guys.”

“We've missed you too. Now, what's going on with the Ministry, why are we in the Room of Requirement, and what did you mean about the “Sins of the Student” doctrine with Dumbledore? How are you doing elf magic? How are you doing wandless magic?” Hermione asked.

“And how have you grown four inches, and put on more muscles than Charlie in six weeks?” Ron finished.

Harry laughed again, “Ever had the feeling that there's a lot of catching up to do?”

“Well, if you want, we'll go first,” Ron said. “After your letter, Hermione and I got together, and from there, we have a very boring summer with only the occasional letter from you to brighten our day.”

The door to the Room opened, and Pansy, Ginny, and Daphne walked in. “Everyone's still alive,” Pansy said brightly. “And look, no bruises.”

“Aww,” Ginny pouted.

“What?” Ron asked.

“Oh, I bet Pansy that Harry would have to hit you to get you listen.”

“Ginny!”

She grinned impishly.

“I think it's time to swap,” Pansy announced.

“Swap?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. We need to talk to Ron and Hermione. You need to talk to Ginny.”

“We do?” Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny asked at once.

Daphne and Pansy laughed. “Yes, we do.”

Harry nodded and got to his feet. “Fancy some late night flying?”

“Sure,” Ginny said. “My broom’s not unpacked yet, though.”

“Take her up on yours,” Pansy said firmly.

“Okay,” Harry replied, feeling a little surprised. He picked up his broom. “Come on then.”

They walked in silence, Harry guiding her up to the Astronomy Tower. He walked through the room and out onto the balcony. “So,” he grinned. “Ready to see if I really fixed this broom?”

Ginny smiled at him and straddled the broom in front of him.

“How are your nerves?”

“Why?”

Harry grinned and whooped loudly. He launched them over the edge and straight down. Faster and faster they flew, as Harry urged the broom on, till, at the very last second, he pulled up hard and inverted their flight, so that they skimmed across the grass upside down, Ginny's long hair brushing the ground.

Ginny yelled as well, as Harry pushed the broom, sending them into an outside loop. He clamped his arms around her, holding her down, as they reached the top of the arc, and gravity tried to remove them from the broom.

“You're insane,” Ginny yelled.

“If I was, would I know?” Harry yelled back. He pulled the broom handle back and shot straight up into the air. He pushed the broom as hard as it could go, taking it as fast as he could go, straight up. As they burst through the cloud cover, he turned off the power.

There was a few seconds feeling of weightlessness, as their speed slowed. For an endless moment, they hung in the air, the bright mood shining on them, before they started to slip backwards.

As gravity reaffirmed its dominance, they started to fall, faster and faster. Harry held the broom in position as they fell towards the ground, both watching the clouds receding before them.

With a grin, he kicked the broom to one side, sending them into a dive, before levelling out and rising up to a normal flying height.

Ginny shifted out of his grip, and he let her go. He watched as she inched her way to the front of the broom, then shifted around so that she was facing him.

The lights of Hogwarts twinkled in the distance, as they hung above the Lake.

“So,” Harry said softly. “Should I be preparing to skin Dean alive?” His voice was deliberately as cold as he could make it.

Ginny shook her head.

“I noticed you weren't sitting together earlier; did he hurt you?”

Ginny sighed and smiled sadly. “There never was anything with Dean, Harry.”

“What?”

“I made it up. I wanted to get Ron off my back, and that seemed like the best way to do it.”

“Oh.”

Ginny nodded. “You don't know that I'm in love with you, do you?”

Harry shook his head. “No. I thought you were in love with Dean.”

Ginny nodded again. “I know. I guessed after reading your letters.”

“I'm in love with Pansy,” Harry said simply.

“I know, I just had a very long talk with her.” She paused for a second. “This was one of my fantasies for so very long,” she said, looking around. “Flying with you, alone at night. Would things have been different, if I hadn't said what I did about Dean?”

“I don't know,” Harry said honestly. “I’ve always liked you, a lot. It might not have been as easy to fall for Pansy, but I suspect I would have, anyway. She gave me something no one else has ever been able to.”

“What?”

“Peace. The second night I was there; she sat me down and ordered me to talk about Sirius, Cedric, and my parents. She game me some advice, and well, you know how I can be at times?”

Ginny smirked, “Stubborn? Pig headed? Completely unwilling to listen to anyone else?”

Harry laughed softly. “Yeah, that.

“Well, she pointed out, quite firmly, that I don't have a monopoly on death and making mistakes. I made a promise then. I told them that it wasn't my fault they died, and that I would avenge them. My summer was spent making sure I could achieve that goal.”

“I miss Sirius, too,” Ginny said.

Harry nodded. “A lot of people do. He asked me to deal with that painting at Grimmauld Place. Pansy and I went there and used turpentine to erase it.”

“What's turpentine?”

“Paint remover; it's a Muggle chemical.”

Ginny laughed. “Fitting.”

“Yeah. I'm looking forward to when someone goes there again. We left a little message in its place.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” he grinned. “What are we, Gin? Where do we go from here?”

“Forward,” she replied softly. “I don't own you, Harry, and you don't owe me anything. I had a long time to think over the summer. We were all pretty much locked in the Burrow. Ron and Hermione spent a lot of time squabbling and kissing, and it allowed me to think. Sometimes, we don't get the fairytale ending. I was touched that you were willing to let Dean into your circle, just because of me.”

“I'm kinda relieved I don't have to,” Harry admitted.

Ginny smiled. “Yeah, I know. I made a decision there and then, Harry. That I would try and be friends with you like you were trying to be friends with me. But I was worried that I wouldn't be able to be friends with your girlfriend. That maybe she wouldn't want me hanging around you, that she'd stop me being your friend.”

She looked at Harry directly. “Give me an honest answer. If it came down to a choice, between us and Pansy, who would you choose?”

Harry looked back at her evenly. “It would depend on the circumstances.”

“Only you would say that, Harry. But it doesn't matter. Pansy loves you; it's obvious, as much as I wish it wasn't. Do you know what she said to me?”

Harry shook his head. “I didn't even know she was going to talk to you.”

“She gave me a choice. She said that we could be friends, or we could be enemies.” She laughed suddenly. “She also pointed out that if we were enemies she'd win, and probably destroy my family, just to be safe.”

Harry laughed. “She probably wouldn't go that far,” he admitted.

“You didn't disagree that she'd win.”

“Pansy can be like a force of nature.”

“She worked out that you saved me in my first year.”

“She did?” Harry looked surprised. “I didn't tell her.”

“I know - you wouldn't. She offered me her friendship, and not a fake friendship, but a real one. She pulled Daph in and treated me straight away as a full person, not as an addition to my brothers or as part of my family.”

Harry nodded. “Sounds like Pansy. If you are friends with her, you become family, and there is nothing she won't do for you. If you're not family, she'll be polite, and if she doesn't like you, well, you'll know about it.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No. I'm not the same, Ginny. I'm not what I will become, but I'm on the path to get there. I agree with Pansy's outlook on life. You, Ron, Hermione, and Daphne are family. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, but as for the rest of the school. Well, I won't accept any of us being gossiped about. And I won't allow Snape to get away with the stuff he has been, previously.”

He reached out and took her hand. “Are we going to be friends, Gin?”

She nodded, a single tear in her eye. “Just tell me one thing.”

“What?”

“Are you happy with her?”

Harry looked up at her, meeting her eyes directly. “She saved me, Gin, from the Dursleys, and from myself. She taught me how to have fun, and how to be serious. She taught me that some things are worth fighting for, and that other things are worth waiting for. She showed me how to live, and slowly, she showed me how to love someone. She decided that she wanted me very early on, but gave me the space to make my own decision about her. Over the past few weeks, I've been with her twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. We were never bored; we never got annoyed with each other.”

Ginny nodded, leaning forward and kissing Harry softly on the lips. She pulled back a second later.

“Friends?” she said, offering her hand.

Harry smiled and took the hand. With a tug, he pulled her close and into a hug. “Friends, Ginny.”

“Now,” Ginny said, turning around. “Hold on.”

“What?”

“It's my turn to drive,” Ginny said, as she pushed the nose of the Firebolt down, and raced towards the ground, spinning along the broom’s axis as they went.

“Dobby,” Pansy called, as she sat comfortably in the chair in front of Ron and Hermione.

The house-elf appeared instantly. “Can you bring another chair for Daphne over?”

Dobby nodded and floated another of the big armchairs around the room. He looked at Pansy and shook his head. He popped out and returned again with a pitcher of pumpkin juice and a pot of tea. “Mistress Park'son is not drinking enough today,” Dobby scolded.

Pansy smiled, “Sorry, Dobby. It's been a long day.”

Dobby's face changed. “Mistress was missing Master Harry Potter all day. Dobby understands missing. Dobby doesn’t like Master Harry Potter being out of Dobby’s sight either. Master Potter has a nasty habit of getting into trouble when Dobby isn’t being there to help him.”

“We're trying to cure him of that,” Pansy laughed.

“Good,” Dobby said. He grinned. “Ferret boy is not being happy, he’s raging, because other snakes are laughing at Ferret boy.”

Pansy smiled, “Good. Would you be a dear and move Daphne's stuff into the other room? I don't want her alone down there.”

“Already done. Blonde Greenie is a good friend to mistress.”

“Thank you, Dobby. And how's Winky?”

Dobby blushed furiously. “Harry Potter told mistress about Winky?”

Pansy nodded.

“Dobby is liking Winky. Winky is a good elf, she understands that Dobby is annoyed at the other elves. Winky has stopped the other elves from being stupid, she reminded them what life like with other owners. Winky still not like what Dobby is doing, but Winky understands why is Dobby doing it.”

“If you need us to help, Dobby, just ask.”

“Dobby knows, Mistress Park'son like Harry Potter sir, friend to house-elves.” With a bow, the green clad elf vanished with his distinctive pop.

“Drink?” Pansy asked, ignoring the looks on Harry's friends’ faces.

“Tea, please, love,” Daphne said, as she lounged elegantly on the chair. Pansy poured a cup, adding some milk and a single sugar cube, before passing the cup to her friend.

“Ron, Hermione?”

“Pumpkin juice please,” Hermione said in a small voice.

“Ron?”

“The same, please.”

Pansy poured two glasses out, and placed them in front of the two students, before pouring herself a cup of tea. She sipped it and looked thoughtfully at Ron and Hermione.

“So, I suspect you have a few thousand questions. But before you start asking, allow me to apologise for my behaviour to you both over the last few years. In my defence, I was under the impression that my and my family’s future pretty much depended on my being nice to his toadiness.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm the only daughter of a rich pure-blood family. The obvious match for me was Draco. This caused a slight worry, because I knew that if I ended up with him I'd end up a useless alcoholic like Narcissa, and the thought of that was truly terrifying.”

“What have you done to Harry?” Ron asked.

“Told him the unvarnished truth.”

“As you see it,” Ron sneered.

Pansy stared at Ron till he blushed and looked down. “There's no need to be rude,” she said slowly. “As I think you'll find if you ask Harry, we have no need to lie.”

“There's lying, and then there's bending the truth to fit your views.”

Pansy nodded at Hermione. “Indeed there is. I believe that we gave Harry a pretty impartial view of the world as we see it, and we gave him the choice to do what he wanted to do. He decided that when he faced Voldemort, he wanted as much power behind him as possible, so that he would survive.”

“How did you find Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Blind luck, actually. Dad owns a lot of businesses in the Muggle world. He just happened to overhear that fat git talking about his son and Harry. Dad did some checking, and found out that Petunia was Lily Evans' sister.”

“What happened to the Dursleys?” Ron asked.

“Dad left them under a version of the Imperio to confess everything to the Muggle law enforcement.”

Daphne nudged Pansy, “And the other one.”

Pansy smiled slightly, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. “I might have broken Dudley’s jaw.”

“Why?”

“The fat whale spent ten minutes staring at my chest while he told about how he used to bully Harry growing up. How Harry turned out the way he did, when being brought up by those monsters, I will never understand.”

Ron nodded. “We gave him a Ton-Tongue Toffee, and Hagrid gave him a pig's tail one year.”

Pansy laughed softly, “I came very close to setting their house on fire and letting fate decide if they lived or not.”

“What?”

“If they got out, they lived.”

Ron and Hermione looked horrified, Daphne looked faintly amused. “You'd adopted him already, then?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked with a frown on her face.

“If you ever want to commit suicide, try and touch a member of Pansy's family. They will all come down on you like you wouldn't believe.”

“Family is very important to us,” Pansy elaborated. “With our reputation, which we admit to having cultivated, there's not much that hasn't been thrown at us over the years. Pretty much everything from Muggle assassins to someone trying to kidnap me when I was young.”

“They got her nanny instead. Malcom and Gruoch were not best pleased,” Daphne added.

“Mum and Dad found her, rescued her.”

“And killed them?” Ron asked, a sneer on his face.

Pansy paused and looked at him again. It was a tactic she had seen her mother use with great effect time and time again.

“Sorry,” Ron muttered.

“No, as it happens, we didn't kill them. We merely destroyed their lives and let them live as Muggles.”

“And that's better?”

“They lived,” Pansy replied coldly. “And no one dared try and touch me again.”

Pansy took another sip of her tea. “I got addicted to this over the summer,” she said softly. “Dobby took very good care of us.”

“What do you think of Harry's plans for the house-elves?” Hermione asked.

“It was rather a shock to find that they were capable of independent thought,” Pansy said candidly. “But when we realised, it made sense to free them. The idea of slavery isn't that attractive, and it is yet another way that, socially, we are a long way behind the Muggle world. They outlawed slavery decades ago.”

“It's strange to hear a pure blood praise Muggles.”

Pansy shrugged. “A long time ago, our family looked down on them, but it's hard to remain superior when you have a long running set of dealing with them. I believe my parents actually prefer the company of intelligent Muggles. They are more concerned about the world around them than the average wizard.”

She paused for a second and then looked at them straight. “So, are we going to try and be friends, or are we going to go for open warfare?”

“I think Harry should be with Ginny, not you,” Ron said.

“I believe that is between me, Harry, and Ginny,” Pansy replied coldly.

“You know?” Ron said, looking confused.

“That Ginny is in love with Harry? Yes. And that Harry finds Ginny attractive? Yes.”

“But, you just sent them out flying together,” Ron said, looking lost.

“I trust Harry. I've talked to Ginny about her feelings, and I offered her my friendship. I know exactly who Harry is, deep down. He would never betray me, just as I would never betray him. They need to talk things through, get things into the open, so that they can stay friends.”

Ron gaped at her, and she restrained the urge to tell him that he looked a little ridiculous with his mouth hanging open like that.

“You seem very sure of Harry,” Hermione said slowly.

“I am. When you spend as much time with someone as I have with Harry, you get to know him very well.”

Hermione stared thoughtfully at her, and Pansy could see the wheels ticking in her brain.

The door opened, and Harry and Ginny walked back in. They were both laughing; Ginny's hair was wild behind her.

“I swear, I'd kill to have that skin and hair combination,” Pansy said grumpily to Daphne.

“I'd swap,” Ginny replied with a grin. “Could be that Harry prefers brunettes.”

“Actually, it’s the heart that does it for me,” Harry said. “The outer package is largely irrelevant.”

“See,” Ginny laughed, looking at Daphne.

“Oh not you too,” Harry groaned.

“Must be your magnetic personality,” Pansy teased. “Ginny, dear, grab the brush on the counter and sit on the floor here. Harry, pull up another chair. Hermione's on the verge of putting the pieces together.”

“I told you it wouldn't take her long,” Harry said with a smile. “We're going to need more chairs.”

“Room of Requirement,” Pansy prodded.

“Oh, yeah, right. It still looks too much like our rooms at your parents’ manor.” A look of concentration flitted across his face, and a new chair appeared.

He moved it over to them, and sat down comfortably, crossing his legs at the ankle.

Ginny sat in front of Pansy, closing her eyes and smiling blissfully as Pansy started to brush her hair. “How the hell do you get this dry in the mornings?” It was incredibly thick, and she had to struggle to get the brush through it.

“I don't wash it in the mornings,” Ginny replied. “I have to do it at night, and then spend a couple of hours or so brushing it dry.”

“Have you heard of a hair dryer?”

“A what?”

“A Muggle device for drying hair,” Hermione answered.

“Exactly. I've got one that we'll have to teach you to use. You should be able to dry it in ten minutes.”

“Really?” Ginny asked, twisting her head to look at Pansy.

“Yep, and if you’re really good, I'll lend you Harry to dry it for you.”

Everyone turned to stare at Harry, who was began to blush.

“He does hair?” Daphne asked.

“Sure, it was part of the deal.”

“What deal?” Ginny asked

“He wants me to keep long hair; he has to help look after it.”

“Whipped,” Ron coughed, before turning as Hermione poked him.

Hermione was frowning at Ron. “I think it's a very good idea, Ronald Weasley. I’ve been thinking of getting my hair cut all summer.”

“No, don’t, I love your hair,” Ron said.

“Then you should ask Harry for some tips, because you're going to be helping look after this mane, starting now.”

“But...” Ron said.

“It's not that bad actually,” Harry said, smiling at Pansy. “I like playing with her hair. You'll find that you'll enjoy it a lot.”

Ron looked sourly at him. “But we're Gryffindor Males. We shouldn't be doing stuff like that.”

“Ron, my friend,” Harry said. “You're on your own here.”

Pansy hid a smile as she glared at Ron, well aware that Ginny, Daphne, and Hermione were doing the same thing.

“Err,” Ron said slowly. “Perhaps I was a little hasty; what I, of course, meant to say, Hermione, was that I'd love to help.”

The girls and Harry laughed.

“So, you're probably wondering why we're in the Room of Requirement?”

“Pansy and Daphne are sleeping here to avoid Draco,” Hermione said. “Right?”

“Almost,” Harry agreed. “Pansy, Harry, and Daphne will be sleeping here. And to answer your next question, yes, Pansy and I will be sharing the same bed.”

“And I have to sleep alone,” Daphne said dramatically, “it’s most unfair.”

“You can't do that,” Hermione said, her eyes going wide. “It's against all the rules.”

“And exactly when have I followed the rules?” Harry asked with a grin. “Besides, I already have the permission of the Board of Governors, and if you pushed the point, I could probably get an edict from Fudge as well.”

“You're moving out of Gryffindor Tower?” Ron asked, looking a little upset.

“I am,” Harry said softly. “I'm not willing to go back to sleeping alone; I spent too much time with Pansy to go through that. And to be honest, it's also a statement of intent towards Dumbledore.”

“A Time Turner!” Hermione said suddenly.

Harry and Pansy clapped loudly. “See,” Pansy grinned. “I told you she'd be the first to get it.”

“What?” Daphne asked, “I'm lost. What Time Turner?”

“Pansy and I used a Time Turner this summer to give us the time we needed to get ready for Voldemort.”

“Oh,” Daphne said. “I wondered how you two were so bloody comfortable with each other after only a few weeks.”

Harry smiled.

“How long did you use it for?” Ginny asked.

Pansy nodded to Harry, as she concentrated on brushing Ginny's hair. She was now giving some serious thought to adopting the younger girl.

“We did six days for every one,” Harry said simply. “For all six weeks.”

“Eight months?” Hermione gasped. “You spent eight months together?”

Harry nodded.

“Well,” Ginny said to Daphne, a playful grin on her face. “That explains why we never had a chance.”

“No shit,” Daphne agreed. “And it probably explains why his dark hotness here acquired enough muscles to make a giant wary.”

Harry winced. “Please don't ever call me that again,” he pleaded.

“I dunno,” Ginny said with a grin. “It kinda suits you. Perhaps we should call him that at breakfast tomorrow.”

“Enough,” Pansy said, a smile on her face. “I think that Hermione has a few more questions about our living arrangements.”

She made a mental note to talk to her mother as soon as possible and thank her. She was very aware that without the training she had received from Gruoch, this conversation would not be going as smoothly.

“Dumbledore's not going to like it and what about the rest of school?”

“Dumbledore doesn't know yet,” Harry said quietly.

“But Dumbledore knows everything that happens in the school,” Ron said.

“He does, but do you know how he knows?”

“That is something I've wondered for years,” Ginny said, a relaxed look on her face.

“The house-elves tell him everything. Dobby's told the house-elves that they are not to tell him anything about me or my friends.”

“Wow,” Ron said, his eyes going wide. “Imagine the pranks we can pull off now.”

Harry grinned, “We're not going to need pranks, Ron.”

“We're not?”

“Who would you play pranks on?”

“Snape, Umbridge, Malfoy,” Ron listed quickly.

“Umbridge is mine,” Pansy said softly. “She touched a member of my family. She will learn not to do that again.”

“What?” Ron demanded.

“The quill,” Harry said.

“Oh, right,” Ron nodded.

“I'm lost,” Daphne said, raising her hand.

Harry held out his hand, showing the faint scar.

“A Blood Quill?”

He nodded.

“Pansy, you don't intend to work alone, do you?”

“I had.”

“Well, you're not,” Daphne said, her voice suddenly ice cold.

“Okay,” Pansy said. “I'll tell you what I have planned later.”

“You can count me in as well,” Ginny said casually.

“I think I actually pity her,” Harry said, a slight smile on his face. “I can't think of anything scarier than you three when you look like that.”

“Voldemort?” Pansy asked.

“I can fight Voldemort,” Harry pointed out with a grin.

The three girls laughed.

“What about Snape?”

Harry frowned, and looked down.

“He's Harry's,” Pansy said softly. “Do you want me to tell them?”

Harry nodded.

“You know that Dumbledore got Snape to teach Harry Occlumency last year?”

Ron and Hermione nodded.

“Well, he used that opportunity to mind rape Harry. He entered Harry's thoughts at will, doing all sorts of damage to Harry’s mind, and leaving him very vulnerable to Voldemort. It is unlikely that Harry would have been possessed at the Ministry if he had received proper training.”

“That git,” Ron shouted, jumping to his feet, his face red. “That's what Dobby said.”

“Sit down, Ron,” Harry said.

“But...”

“Sit,” Harry growled. “One of the things I learnt over the summer is that revenge is a dish best served cold.”

“You better be planning on including me,” Ron snarled.

Harry smiled slightly. “I'm planning on giving Snape enough rope, and letting him hang himself.”

“Good,” Hermione said. “How can I help?”

“Hermione?”

“What? That man is an atrocious professor, and he should not be allowed near children.”

Harry nodded, “I agree. And if things go right, he won't be.”

“So you've had Occlumency training, and that's what you did to Snape earlier?” Hermione asked.

“Yes. I got some proper training from a member of the Council of Occlumens, including the code that we agree to follow.

“When Snape attacked me earlier, which, by the way, he's been doing, or trying to do, since our second year, I used an advanced technique to make him think I was defenceless. As he entered my mind, I guided him to where I wanted to him to go, and then locked him inside my memories of Voldemort. It's not a very nice in there.”

There was a knock at the door. Harry and Pansy both looked surprised, and Harry waved his hand, opening it.

Professor McGonagall walked in and looked around. “I take it this is one of those rules you said you would be breaking,” she asked Harry with a sigh.

“Yep,” he grinned at her.

“Professor Dumbledore would like to talk to you. He's a little concerned, because he thinks that you have all vanished from the school.”

Harry and Pansy laughed.

“I had to ask Dobby where you were, and he almost refused to tell me. I had to be most persuasive.

“Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, I would suggest that now would be a good time for you to return to Gryffindor Tower. Miss Greengrass, I take it you will be staying here?”

“Yes,” Daphne said. “Pansy pretty much ordered me into the spare bedroom. I didn't put up much of a fight; I really don't want to be near that Death Eater spawn.”

McGonagall pursed her lips together tightly. “Unfortunately, he will not be expelled.”

Harry nodded, “Good. I would much rather have him where I can keep an eye on him.”

“Guys, we'll see you at breakfast tomorrow, and then meet here for lunch after class.”

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny nodded.

“Don't wait up for us, Daph,” Pansy said with a sigh. “I suspect that it will be a long evening.”

“Professor Dumbledore only asked for Harry,” McGonagall pointed out.

Pansy laughed and shot a smile at the Professor. “I'm afraid that what Dumbledore wants, and what Dumbledore gets is going to be rather different this year.”

McGonagall nodded and turned on her heel, walking out the door.

There was a pause before Ron said, “What the hell have you done to McGonagall?”

Harry turned. “I had a talk with her. She's on our side, but she is still a professor, the only professor who has my full respect.”

Ron and Hermione nodded. “Come on, Gin,” Ron said. “Let's go see the others.”

“Tell them that I'm with Dumbledore,” Harry said thoughtfully. “They can find out I've moved out later.”

Ron nodded, and the three of them walked out the door.

“Ginny,” Pansy called.

The red haired witch paused and looked back.

“Wash your hair tomorrow morning, and come here at seven. I'll show you how to do your hair.”

“Thanks,” she grinned. “Have fun tonight.”

“We will,” Pansy laughed.

“And we'll tell you all about it at lunch tomorrow.”

“Well,” Harry said, as the other three left. “We'll see you tomorrow morning, Daph.”

“Night,” she smiled and walked into her room.

“So, what do you think?” Harry asked Pansy as they walked towards the Headmasters office.

“It could have gone better,” she sighed. “It was a lot easier when you were in the room to act as a buffer. Ron thinks that you and Ginny should be together.”

“He does? He was always so protective of her and who she dated.”

Pansy shrugged. “I told him that it was nothing to do with him, and it was only to do with me, you, and Ginny.”

“Who you like?”

“I do.” Her lips curled slightly. “Can I keep her?”

“You know that she kissed me?”

“I thought she would,” Pansy replied.

“You did?”

“She had to know.”

“Know what?”

“That you were serious about me.”

“She could tell that from a kiss?”

“Did you kiss her back?”

“What do you think?”

“That’s how she knew. If you had, well, it would be really messy about now.”

“You took a gamble, didn’t you?”

“A calculated one, yes. But look what I won. I now have a new friend, and a boyfriend that I know I can trust without doubt.”

Harry smiled and placed his hands on her hips, and lifted her up, dancing down the hall with her. “A boyfriend who loves you.”

“I already had that,” Pansy grinned. “And besides, I had a backup plan if you hadn’t proved trustworthy.”

“You did?” Harry asked, stopping, and lightly pressing her into a wall, still holding her several inches off the floor.

“Absolutely. Winky would not have had a chance.”

Harry froze, and then laughed. “So, you and Dobby, eh?”

“I go for short people – I liked you before you grew.”

“Want me to shrink again?” he asked, as he slowly lowered her to the floor.

Pansy reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “No, I don’t think so,” she purred, giving into the urge to kiss him.

“As much as I’m enjoying this,” Pansy sighed a few minutes later, “we really need to get to Dumbledore’s office.”

Harry nodded, and they walked, arm in arm, down towards the Headmasters office. The door was open for them, so they didn’t have to waste any time searching for a password.

Inside, Pansy looked around curiously. She’d never seen the cluttered inside of the office before, and she took in everything she could. There was a young looking phoenix to one side that seemed to chirp a welcome to Harry.

There was only one chair in front of the large desk; Snape and McGonagall were flanking Dumbledore at the other end.

Harry rested his hand on the back of the chair, and it instantly grew into a two-person sofa, which allowed them both to sit down.

Dobby appeared a second later with a tray of tea, and Pansy made a mental note to thank him, yet again, when they got some time. His habit of turning up at the start of meetings always seemed to put the other people off for some reason.

“Tea?” She asked the professors politely, as she made Harry a cup. He always liked his strong, no sugar, with just a hint of milk.

“White, one sugar, please, Pansy,” McGonagall replied with a smile.

“No,” Snape grumbled.

“Not for me, thank you, Ms Parkinson.”

Pansy nodded and made McGonagall’s, passing it to her, before perching on the edge of the couch, her legs crossed daintily at the knee.

“Now, what can we do for you?” Pansy asked.

“You weren’t invited,” Snape growled.

Pansy paused mid sip and stared at her head of house distastefully. She wondered if the look would have as much an effect on him as it had on Ron earlier. Sadly, the hook-nosed professor appeared immune. She would probably need as much experience as her mother had to deal with him properly.

“I think you’ll find she was,” Harry interposed. “I quite clearly remember inviting her.”

“You?” Snape snarled distastefully.

Harry stood up and held his hand to Pansy. He looked at Dumbledore and shook his head. “I haven’t got the time nor the energy tonight to play with other people’s pets. Perhaps we can have a proper conversation at some future date.”

Pansy smirked to herself at the shocked look of two of the professors across the table. McGonagall was looking amused. She regretfully placed her cup on the Headmaster’s desk.

“Harry,” Dumbledore called. “Please sit down.”

“Are you going to keep your pet under control?”

Pansy struggled to keep the laughter from bubbling up inside her, both at the look of fury on Snape’s face and the look of chagrin on Dumbledore’s.

“Ms Parkinson is welcome to stay,” Dumbledore said tiredly. “And Severus, please remember your position.”

Snape went red for a second, before he appeared to regain control of himself, and his face went blank.

Harry nodded and sat down, picking up his own cup of tea again.

Pansy resumed her attentive position, and for effect, picked up some parchment and a quill from the Headmaster’s untidy desk, and sat poised to make notes.

She looked at the Headmaster attentively, and could see Harry doing the same out of the corner of her eye.

Dumbledore’s pale blue eyes seemed to twinkle lazily as he looked back across the table.

Pansy gently reached out with her mind, lightly touching Harry’s. The silence was an obvious tactic to get one of them to break it. It was a tactic to find out how able to handle uncomfortable situations they both were.

She felt an echo of amusement from Harry, and kept her face in the same polite smile. Her father was a master at making people uncomfortable, and this was one of his least used tactics. She wondered how long the Headmaster was willing to let it drag on for.

“That’s quite enough,” McGonagall interrupted with a distasteful sound in her voice. “I have better things to do than watch you all play games with each other.”

“Sorry, Professor,” Harry said, nodding in agreement. “I have had a long day, and I would like to get some sleep before classes tomorrow. What is it that you want from us?”

“An explanation would be effective place to start.”

“About what?”

“About your departure from the Dursleys, and your rather dramatic physical and mental transformation.”

Harry nodded, “To give you the highlights. I came down with Wizarding flu with no means of contacting you; my relatives locked me up so that they wouldn’t be contaminated. Pansy and her family rescued me.”

“Can I ask how you found Harry?” Dumbledore asked Pansy.

“You can,” Pansy said with a charming smile. “But I’m afraid that I won’t answer. Suffice it to say that we were pretty horrified at the state Harry was in, and we removed him quickly to a safe place.”

“Safer than the ancient blood protection on their house?” Dumbledore asked.

Pansy looked coolly across the table, and lowered the temperature in her voice. “We found out where Harry was, so it wasn’t a big logical leap to presume that Voldemort or one of his minions would do the same. And once they found him, the blood protection was useless.”

“Useless?”

“Extremely,” Pansy agreed. “How do you think Dursley would react to Malfoy offering him a large sum of money to hand Harry over? Or how would Harry react if Voldemort started killing Muggles? Both scenarios would render the fortress like protection offered by the ancient magic rather useless.”

McGonagall frowned. “Would Dursley have done that? After we had a quiet word with him at the end of the summer?”

Pansy shrugged. “No idea, but we weren’t willing to take the chance. And, as Harry is here, in obvious good health, and not a starved relic of himself, I would suggest that our protection was vastly superior to yours.”

She felt Harry laughing inside her mind, and sent him a sharp poke back. She didn’t need to be distracted at the moment, not when playing verbal tennis with a master.

“About your remarkable good health,” Dumbledore continued. “Can I ask how the transformation came about?”

“Malcom and Gruoch arranged for a doctor to look me over. He felt that the malnutrition I suffered at the Dursleys was curable, and gave me a potion to help repair the damage. After that, Gruoch and Pansy took me to a Muggle eye clinic, where they performed laser surgery on my eyes.”

Dumbledore nodded slowly, the twinkling in his eye almost stopping.

“What is laser eye surgery?” McGonagall asked, curious.

“They basically cut open your eye, and shine an incredibly powerful beam of light into it, effectively changing its shape.”

“Remarkable.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Kinda painful as well,” he admitted candidly. “But not as much as the growth potion.”

Pansy shuddered lightly. “That felt like being hit with a Bludger, repeatedly.”

“You felt it?” McGonagall asked, confused.

“Yes,” Pansy replied. “I had to know what he was going through.”

“So,” Harry said, moving the conversation back on track. “After that, Malcom and Gruoch paid for some tutors to help me out with magic, and to help prepare me for killing Voldemort.”

Dumbledore’s eyebrows rose.

“You told them about the prophecy?”

“And my friends, yes.”

“Is that wise?”

“Wiser than hiding the truth from them,” Harry replied coldly. “This way, they have the information needed to make their own decisions about the future, and they are not making false conclusions based on either out of date or incorrect data.”

There was another uncomfortable silence around the table. “Is there anything else?”

“I have your schedules,” McGonagall said quietly, sliding two pieces of paper across the table.

Pansy picked both up and studied them. She used her quill to scratch a few changes on hers, and one on Harry’s, before passing them both to him. He took them, glanced over them briefly, and handed them back to Professor McGonagall. “Will there be any trouble with the changes?”

“Not at all,” McGonagall said as she looked at the changes.

Pansy smiled. She didn’t think the professor would mind her changing Harry’s Divination to Arithmancy, or changing hers so that she was in all the same lessons as him.

“There is one more thing,” Dumbledore said smoothly. “The D.A.”

Harry nodded. “We will be meeting Tuesday and Thursday evenings and Sunday afternoons.”

Dumbledore looked surprised. “You will?”

“Oh yes. The Governors thought it was an excellent idea, with the current situation with Voldemort.”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore said softly.

“Along with that,” Harry continued. “Pansy, Daphne, and I have moved out of our respective House rooms. I am not prepared to allow Death Eater scum easy access to either my friend or my girlfriend.”

“You’re doing what?” Snape demanded.

Harry looked at him coldly. “I am moving my girlfriend away from Malfoy, along with our friend. And as I have become quite used to sleeping with Pansy, and not being agreeable to stopping, I am moving in with them.” He paused for a second, and then finished acidly, “I thought I made that quite clear with my original statement.”

“I take it you have the Governor’s permission?” Dumbledore said, his eye regaining their former twinkle.

Harry and Pansy both nodded.

“My father approves of my relationship with Harry,” Pansy said, in an amused voice. “Both he and my mother were rather apologetic for even hinting that I would have to have an arranged marriage with the toad.”

Dumbledore smiled. “I think that is enough for this evening,” he said calmly. “Harry, Pansy, can we reconvene at a later date? I have a few more things to discuss with you.”

Harry nodded and stood, placing the now empty cup on the table. Pansy straightened her dress as she stood as well. She smiled at the Professors and took Harry’s hand.

Once outside, she turned to Harry. “That was strange.”

Harry nodded. “Dumbledore took a lot of that far too well.”

“He didn’t even ask about how you Apparated into Hogwarts.”

“He wouldn’t,” Harry sighed. “That would mean admitting that he didn’t know something. And he’d never do that in front of me.”

Pansy yawned and lent against him. She felt him pause, and then lift her up. “You can’t carry me all the way back.”

“That sounds like a bet,” Harry grinned. “What do I get if I win?”

“Kisses?”

“You’re on.”

White Knight, Grey Queen

7 - Consequences (part 1)

Pansy stretched, and turned to one side.

“What time is it?”

“Half past six,” Harry said, as he pulled on a loose t-shirt.

“And why are you up and not warm in bed with me?”

“Because I want to go for a run before we start the day, and you have a wet-haired Ginny arriving shortly.”

“Bugger.  I’d forgotten about that.”

“You might want to wake Daph up as well, make sure she’s ready for the day.”

“Okay.  Where are you going to run?”

“Oh, just a couple of times around the lake for now.  I’ll devise a more interesting route at the weekend.”

“You have your wand?”

“Always.”

“Good.  Then give me a kiss before you go.”

Harry smiled and knelt on the bed.  His arms wrapped around her, and she lazily moved up to him, kissing him lingeringly.

“I love you,” he whispered.  “Morning breath and all.”

“Git,” Pansy laughed, pushing him away.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” he smirked, and turned, moving out the door quickly,

Pansy shook her head and stretched, moving straight to the bathroom.  She pulled her hair back tightly, and stepped in the shower quickly, using the almost scalding hot water to wake herself up further.

Once clean, she stepped out of the shower and smiled at herself happily.  All the physical exercise had left her in the best shape of her life.  It was a pity she didn’t play Quidditch, because now that she was this fit, she wanted to keep herself in shape.  She’d just have to find something else to do.

And she reluctantly admitted that getting up with Harry in the morning for a run was going to have to be one of those things, no matter how tempting a warm bed and a warmer Harry might be.

She wrapped a towel around herself and walked into their living area.

“Morning, Daph,” she smiled.

“You know,” Daphne said, looking around, “I could get very used to this.  No sharing the showers; quiet in the morning.  No Draco.  It’s been my best morning at Hogwarts so far, and I’ve only been up thirty minutes.”

Pansy smiled and nodded.  “Warm Harry is good too.”

“Yes, well, where is his Dark Hotness?”

“Halfway around the lake.  He’s gone for an early morning run.  Darling boy tried to sneak out of bed without waking me.”

Daphne turned and walked to the window, looking out.  “Yep, I can just see a speck on the other side.”

“The question is, are we going to have breakfast here or in the Great Hall?” Pansy asked.

“The Hall,” Daphne said thoughtfully.  “We can’t look like we’re afraid of what happened yesterday.  So what if we sit with the Gryffindors?  At least it means we can eat quietly.”

“Even if they ignore us?”

“I don’t think they will,” Daphne replied.  “Ginny won’t, and Ron and Hermione probably won’t after Harry talked to them.  The others, well, we don’t care about them, anyway.”

“True.”

“So when did Harry rearrange the room?” Daphne asked curiously.

“Just before bed last night.  He felt it was a better idea to separate it into three distinct rooms, so that we both had our private space.”

“And there’s a gap between our rooms, so I can’t hear you both moaning?” Daphne grinned.

“Lucky coincidence,” Pansy smirked.  “So, I’ll do Ginny’s hair, and then we’ll meet Harry in the Hall for breakfast.”

“I forgot she was coming.  Are you going to show me how to work that hair thingy?”

“Of course.  It’s a life saver.”

“Gonna show me how to work that Harry thingy as well?”

“Nope, that one doesn’t come with an instruction manual, and I’m keeping what I’ve learnt secret.”

“Damn,” Daphne pouted.

Pansy grinned, and looked at her watch.  It took her a few minutes to arrange a small stool in front of her chair, and to place a large array of brushes and clips on the side of her chair.  The hair dryer rested on the floor.

As a knock rang on their door, Pansy sat down and smiled at Daphne.  “Let her in?”

Daphne nodded and sauntered over to the door.  She opened it, and Ginny walked in.  She was wearing her uniform, but her robes were slung over her arm.  She had a Hogwarts towel wrapped around her head.

“Sit,” Pansy smiled, pointing in front of her.

“If I’d known that all I had to do to get male attention is walk through the school with wet hair and my robes off, I wouldn’t have bothered,” Ginny grumbled.

“Boys are so predictable,” Daphne nodded.  “You didn’t dry yourself properly, and your shirt’s transparent in places.”

“Damn,” Ginny sighed.  “I overslept a little, so I was running late.”

“Don’t worry,” Pansy said, as she undid the towel around Ginny’s hair and threw it toward the bathroom.  “Next time, you can shower here, it will be easier.”

“Thanks,” Ginny smiled.  “After sharing a bathroom all my life, you’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

“Nah, every woman deserves to only have to share with a partner.  This sharing with loads of other girls is just wrong.”

“And you shouldn’t just leave towels on the floor, Quality,” Daphne scolded as she picked up the towel and placed it inside one of the laundry bins.”

“Oh shush, and don’t call me that.”

“Can you explain that nickname now?” Ginny asked.

Pansy sighed, and started to brush Ginny’s hair, getting all the tangles out and separating it, so that it would dry a little more in the air, before she started to blow dry it.

“It’s down to that dress she wore to the last ball,” Daphne smiled.  “There’s a Muggle confectionary called Quality Street.  They basically come as a box of sweets, each with a different wrapper.  I swear that dress was just one of the wrappers.  I’ve been calling her Quality ever since.”

“Look, it was the most hideous dress I could find, alright?  And it meant that Draco really didn’t want to dance with me, so I managed to have a semi decent night.”  With quick hand movements she separated Ginny’s hair into six even parts, and pinned five of them out of the way on top of the red-haired girl’s head.

“I think you should wear that for Harry,” Ginny grinned.

“Why?” Pansy asked slowly, not sure she wanted to find out the answer.

“Because I’m sure Harry would like to open it up and eat what’s inside.”

Pansy felt herself blushing as Daphne fell on to the floor, laughing.

“Yes, thank you, Ginny,” Pansy said, trying to keep a straight face.

“You’re welcome,” Ginny grinned.  “And where is he, by the way?”

Daphne walked over to the window.  “He’s just finished his first circle of the lake.”

“Running?”

“Yeah,” Daphne said with a sigh.  “If you can call poetry in motion something as mundane as running.  What did you do to that boy?”

“Taught him to fight,” Pansy said, as she picked up the hair drier, and her wand.  “Silencio ,” she said to the dryer, and started to run it.  She moved the brush and the dryer down, directing the airflow down the hair.

“I think I love you,” Ginny sighed.  “Do you have any idea how nice that feels?”

“This was how mum and I would talk,” Pansy smiled softly.  “She’d cast the silencing spell, and then spend hours drying my hair.  We both knew it didn’t need it, but it was our little ritual.  We’d talk about everything, from boys to poetry.  Looking back now, I realise just how much she taught me during that time.”

“Damn, Pansy,” Daphne said, as she curled up in a chair opposite them.  “Harry really has changed you.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve never told me that, in all the years we’ve been friends.”

Pansy shrugged, as she let down the next part of Ginny’s hair.  “Being open means for better friendship.  And I’ve been a bit of a lousy friend over the years.  I’m going to change that.”

“You’ve not been a lousy friend,” Daphne corrected firmly.  “Just a bit of a stand-offish one.  I always knew I could count on you.”

Pansy smiled and changed the subject.  “We’re planning on having breakfast in the Hall today.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Ginny said dreamily.  “I could sit here all day.”

Pansy laughed.  “I swear, I’d do anything Harry asked if he asked me while he was doing my hair.”

“How did he learn to do it?” Daphne asked curiously.

“He asked my mum.  The first time he wanted a chat, so he asked her to help learn how to braid my hair.  He then just got into the habit, and liked spending time with mum like I did.”

Ginny and Daphne shared a long look.  “You see why we can’t date with Harry around?” Ginny whispered.  “What other sixteen year old would even think of learning how to do all of that?”

“I know,” Pansy said softly.  “It’s why I have to work hard to make sure I don’t lose him.”

“You won’t,” Ginny said.  “He didn’t even flinch when I kissed him.”

“And he passed the boyfriend test,” Daphne reminded her.  “He’s plum in love with you.”

Pansy smiled gently, and let go the last of Ginny’s clips, and started to dry the strands.  “And believe me; I’m just as in love with him.  My favourite hobby in the world is to wake up before him and spend a few minutes just watching him sleep.  It’s the only time when he’s truly at peace, and I can see both the boy he was, and the man he is becoming.

“And then he opens his eyes, and he normally says the first thing on his mind.  He’s so completely open at that moment, so without deceit or artifice, I just feel incredibly lucky to be near him.”

She finished off the hair in silence, and then cast a charm on Ginny’s hair.  “There you go, go look in the mirror.”

Ginny bounced to her feet and dashed in to the bathroom.  There was a second’s silence, then a squeal, before a red-haired missile launched herself out of the bathroom and into Pansy’s lap.

Pansy found herself in a very tight hug a second later.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Ginny beamed.  “It looks so soft and shiny.”

“Just wait till we take you to a hair dresser,” Pansy promised.  “We’ll get your hair styled properly, and you’ll look even better.”

“You do realise I want you to do mine now, right?” Daphne asked.

“We need a girls’ night in,” Pansy decided.  “Full of pedicures, manicures, and all the other fun things.”

“Leg waxing?” Daphne asked with a grin.

“I said fun things,” Pansy grinned back.

“You like the results,” Daphne pointed out.

“Not as much as Harry does,” Pansy retorted with a wicked grin on her face.  She stood, easily picking up Ginny, who was still seated in her lap, as she did so.

“Wow,” Ginny muttered, her eyes going wide, as she squeezed one of Pansy’s biceps.  “Daphne, come feel this.”

“What am I, a prize horse?” Pansy grumbled.

“A prize filly, perhaps,” Daphne said.  “And sweet Merlin on a bike, you’re made of iron.”

“If you think I am, you should feel Harry,” Pansy grinned.  “He carried me from Dumbledore’s office back here without even getting out of breath.  I felt so girly it was unreal.”

“What have you been doing?” Daphne asked, not being sidetracked.

“A lot of time in a Gym, a lot of running, a lot of fighting, and a lot of time on the back of a horse.  It’s one thing I’m going to miss.  There are no horses at Hogwarts.

“Anyway, let’s go to breakfast.  I’ll leave Harry a note in case he comes back here first.”

“Let me just get dressed,” Pansy said, throwing her own towel toward the corner.

“Modesty a foreign concept?” Daphne asked.

Pansy turned and grinned.  “You two don’t count, and Harry is welcome to see me naked.  Besides, if you let me and Harry get you two fit, I bet you won’t care, either.”

She walked into the bedroom, and pulled on some underwear and the school skirt.

“You know,” she said, as she picked her up bra, blouse, and slip-on shoes and rejoined the Daphne and Ginny.  “We really need to get some alternate uniforms made.  These are really poor material.  I’m sure we could get a designer to knock us up something that’s more flattering and in a nicer material, but still fit in.”

“That’s a good idea,” Daphne nodded.  “I hate these damn skirts.  It always takes me a week to get used to them again.”

Pansy smiled as she put her bra on, and did up her shirt.  “And these blouses – I’ve seen sexier bin bags.”

Ginny shook her head.  “You two are from a different world,” she said with a slight smile.  “A lot of the time I find the uniform comfier than my own clothes.”

“A world you are now in,” Pansy said, as she looped her arm through the younger girl’s.  “So get used to it.  I think what we need to do, is get Mum over here on Saturday.  We can go shopping while Harry and Dad get up to date on what’s happened at the Ministry.”

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on?” Daphne asked, as she linked her arm with Pansy, and the three of them strolled out of the Room of Requirement.

“That’s up to Harry,” Pansy said lightly.  “Although, I don’t know everything myself.  He and Dad can be as thick as thieves at times.  He’ll tell me, eventually.  He just forgets sometime.”

Daphne laughed softly.  “It was a bit weird to see your Dad talking to him like that.  I always see your Dad as one of the scariest men I know.”

“Dad can be,” Pansy nodded.  “He’s totally committed to me and Mum.  I know that everyone else comes behind us.  I think Harry fills a space in his heart that he never thought would be filled.  He always wanted a son, but Mum couldn’t have any more children.  So he resigned himself to not having one.  Now he’s found the son of one of his best friends really needs him, not just because of the money and influence we have, but as a man, and I think Dad’s seized his chance.  He sees Harry as a kind of heir.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Ginny asked.

“Not at all; there are some things that I don’t want to have to do, and Harry enjoys Dad’s attention.  It means that I don’t have to try as hard to be what Dad wants.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Daphne said, frowning a little.

“Oh, Dad never asked me to be that way,” Pansy said airily.  “He wouldn’t.  I just wanted to try and fill the gap a little.  Now I don’t have to, and I can concentrate on just being Dad’s princess.”

She paused a second, and grinned.  “And Harry’s grey queen.”  She unlinked both her arms from her colleagues, and turned to Ginny.  She looked at her thoughtfully.

“What?” Ginny asked warily.

“Open your mouth a little,” Pansy said, as she reached into her pockets.  “And don’t move.”

With precise movements, she quickly outlined Ginny’s lips in a medium red colour, and then applied a slightly lighter shade of lipstick.  She reached out a hand, and took the tissue that she knew Daphne would be holding out, and lightly blotted the lips.

“There,” she said, as she turned to Daphne.  “Three.”

Daphne pursed her lips and looked at Ginny.  “Four.”

Pansy nodded.  “In you go Ginny.”

“What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Pansy smiled reassuringly.  “We’ll explain at the table.  I want you to walk in with your head held high.”

“Okay,” Ginny said warily.

Pansy opened the door to the Hall and ushered her in.  As Ginny walked toward the Gryffindor table, she was greeted by a few boys trying to grab her attention.

“Three,” Pansy said triumphantly as Ginny took her seat.

“Hey, Ginny,” Michael Corner called from the Ravenclaw table.

“Four, sweetie,” Daphne countered cheerfully.  “I win.”

Pansy grumbled under her breath.

The two of them walked into the Hall and sat next to Ginny.  They ignored their own greetings from the boys, as they were used to it.

“What was that?” Ginny asked, looking a little flushed.  “I’ve never had boys say morning to me like that before.”

Daphne smiled.  “You’ve never worn makeup, moved with confidence, and had your hair like it is, either.  Boys recognise that sort of thing.  It makes you stand out.  Just wait till we get your hair done properly and put you in some new clothes.  You’ll be one of the hottest girls in school.”

“One of the three?” Ginny asked dryly.

“Six; you can’t discount the Patil sisters, or Chang” Daphne said cheerfully.  “And despite her best efforts, Hermione’s close, too.”

Dobby appeared with a pop next to them.

“Morning, Dobby,” Pansy said with a smile.  “Did you have a good night?”

Dobby nodded seriously.  “Dobby has been having a long talk with Winky.”  He looked down shyly.  “We is now courting.”

“That’s wonderful!” Pansy clapped excitedly.  “I’m so pleased for you.”

“Dobby is too,” he smiled.  “What does Mistress Park’son and friends want for breakfast?”

“Cereal for me,” Pansy decided.  “I’m still a little full from last night.”

Dobby nodded.  “And Blonde Greenie?”

“I’ll have the same,” she said with a smile.  “Ginny?”

“I’ll have what they are having.”

“Dobby will be back in a second,” he said, and vanished with a pop.

“I’m pleased he talked to Winky,” Pansy said cheerfully.

“Morning,” Ron said, as he sat down with Hermione.  He looked at Ginny.  “Are you wearing make up?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Ron asked.

“Because she looks good,” Pansy said dryly.  “And that’s reason enough.”

“It is?” Ron asked, frowning.  He helped himself to a plate and filled it quickly.

“Yes, it is,” Hermione said.  “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” Ginny said, blushing faintly at the unexpected praise.

Dobby returned and served them their breakfasts.

“So this is cereal?” Ginny asked, looking at it.

Pansy and Daphne looked at each other and laughed.

“Yes,” Pansy said.  “It’s a Muggle thing that’s pretty light.”

“I didn’t know it was available,” Hermione said.

“Dobby,” Pansy called, and waited for the elf to appear.  “Could you get Hermione a bowl as well?”

Dobby put his hands on his hips and turned to face Hermione.  “Will Miss Granger be promising to not leave clothes in the common room this year?  The other elves are not wanting freedom like Dobby.”

Hermione blushed deeply.  “I promise,” she said quietly.

Dobby smiled and clapped his hands.  “Dobby will be telling other elves,” he said, as he vanished.  He was back a second later, with a fourth bowl of cereal.

“Oooh, Special K!” Hermione smiled as she took a bite.  “My parents insisted I ate this stuff, as it has no sugar.”

Pansy and Daphne both nodded.  “I just look at what Ron eats for breakfast and I can feel my hips getting wider,” Daphne sighed.  “It’s not fair.  If I ate like Ron does, I’d be as big as Bulstrode in a week.”

“Well, if you two start to get fit with me, you’ll be able to eat what you like,” Pansy said cheerfully.  “I’ve found my appetite really enjoys working out.  That night we went to the Ritz was brilliant; I ate everything on the table, including several bites of Harry’s, while we shared some champagne.  Then spent all night dancing it off.”

“In the paper there was something about a fight?” Hermione asked curiously.

Pansy nodded.  “Yeah, I went to the bathroom, and as I came out, four Muggles grabbed me and tried to persuade me to come with them – and they weren’t taking no for an answer.

“I was getting ready to do something about it myself, magic in public be damned, when Harry appeared next to me so fast I thought he had Apparated.  He tried to talk them out of it, and to leave them alone, but they were obviously way too stupid.

“I could feel the potential for violence in the air, and it was all coming from Harry,” she said, her voice going dreamy.  “You know what he’s like when he’s protecting something or doing what he feels is right?”

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all nodded together.

“It was like that, but all directed at keeping me safe.  It was… intoxicating.  He practically begged them to leave us alone, so that he wouldn’t hurt them.”

“And?” Daphne asked, hanging on to every word.

“One of them tried to punch Harry in the back of his head, and his training kicked in.  I’d only ever seen him move like that once before, when he poured his frustrations about not getting a move right into his next move.  He seems to flow from one move to the next, almost as if everything is just one movement.  In a few seconds, they were all on the floor, and he wasn’t even out of breath.

“He looked so handsome, standing there, the Muggles rolling on the floor in pain.  He had this look in his eyes, that said that he’d fight the world for me.  His tuxedo was hugging those broad shoulders of his, and he turned to me, as if I’d be afraid of him, that I’d be scared of him because of how he fought.

“Scared?” she laughed dryly.  “It took every ounce of my will power not to jump him there and then, knock him to the ground and have my wicked way with him – the nightclub full of people be damned.”

Hermione, Ginny, and Daphne all sighed and smiled.

“Huh?” Ron asked, looking at the girls.

“Shush,” Hermione said gently, patting his knee.  “So what happened then?”

“We went back to dancing, and then at the end of the night, he finally kissed me for the first time.”

“And?” Ginny prompted.

“And whatever happened after that is private,” Pansy smiled.

Daphne groaned and poked Pansy.  “That’s just not fair.”

Pansy smiled and shrugged.  “Ask Harry – if you can get him to talk.”

“Getting Harry to talk about some things like that is about as likely as Voldemort retiring from evil and becoming a fisherman,” Hermione said dryly.

“So you can say Voldemort as well?” Pansy asked.

“It’s not easy,” Hermione sighed.  “I started last year, the rest of the D.A. promised to practice over the summer.”

Ron nodded in agreement.

“Good,” Pansy smiled.

The doors to the Hall flew opened, and a wild-eyed second year stood there.  “You’ve got to see this,” he shouted, ignoring the teachers.  “Harry’s flying without a broom!”

There was a second of stunned silence, before people started to move.  Pansy was far ahead of the others, already half way to the door, having started to move as soon as she heard the word ‘Harry’.

She ran out of the door, aware that Ginny and Daphne were right behind her, and out through the school doors onto the driveway, before she stopped and started to laugh.

Daphne and Ginny joined her, and looked at her strangely, as most of the pupils seemed to pour of the school.

“Pansy?” Daphne asked.

“He’s not flying,” Pansy said loudly.  “He’s riding a Thestral.”

The silence that followed that remark was absolute, as the idea of Harry actually riding one of the skeletal winged horses was less easy to comprehend than that of him flying.

As Pansy watched, Harry turned toward them and urged his mount into a gallop, another Thestral running beside him.  She smiled, realising what he intended and ran a few steps forward.

“What is she doing?” Ginny asked.

“No one move,” Daphne shouted.

Pansy blocked out the crowd, and concentrated as Harry approached her.  They’d done this a few times with Thunder and Lightning, and it was very difficult to do with a normal horse.  As Harry got nearer, he started to circle, so he would avoid the students behind her.

She took another step forward, watching the horse carefully, and then raised her right hand, and bent her legs slightly.

She could hear the hooves thundering and took a deep breath.

Harry started to lean to one side, half hanging off the horse, and as he approached her, swung his arm down.  She grabbed hold of his arm as he swooped past and jumped.

She felt his muscles tense as he lifted her up, and she twisted with the movements, letting go of his arm as she was raised into the air, and grabbing his waist, using her momentum to land behind him securely.

She yelled out in triumph, and held on to him securely.

“I think that was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” she heard Ginny shout excitedly.

She looked at the Thestral running next to them, and raised her legs, standing behind Harry.  She felt him straighten his mount, to make it easier for her, and she jumped, landing perfectly.  She picked up the reigns, and took control.

“Ready?” Harry yelled over the wind.

“For what?” she yelled back.

“HAH!” Harry yelled, and his Thestral spread his wings and took off.  Hers followed him instantly, and before she knew it, they were flying.

“Isn’t this amazing?” he yelled.

She looked around, and down, and realised that it was just like riding, only with the ability to go up and around.

“Completely,” she yelled back.  They circled the lake before heading back down.  The Thestrals spread their wings, and glided down, moving their feet, so as they landed, they were running at full speed.

They both sped toward the still gathered students, and then pulled the reins back hard, stopping the Thestrals with a skid.

“Anyone want to come for a ride?” Harry asked, a boyish grin on his face.

Pansy smiled as she watched him, he was always so relaxed when he could fly.  She checked her watch, and was happy that they still had half an hour before lessons.

“I do,” Daphne answered immediately.  “Riding invisible horses seems cool.”

“And me,” Ginny added a second later, before anyone else could say it.

“Okay,” Pansy said, nudging her Thestral forwards.  “Ginny, have you ridden before?”

“Yeah, once.”

“Okay, you’re with me; I’ve been riding longer than Harry.  Daphne’s been riding most her life, so she knows what to do.”

“Okay,” Ginny nodded.

Pansy leant down and offered her hand to the smaller girl.  “Just take my hand, and slide your leg over the back to the horse.”

“I can’t see it, though,” Ginny pointed out.

Pansy paused, and then laughed softly.  “Guess, based on where my bum is.”

“Okay,” Ginny said with a grin.  Pansy grabbed her hand, and heaved, holding the horse steady with her knees.  Ginny jumped and landed awkwardly behind her.

“Okay,” Pansy smiled.  “Put your arms tightly around me, and hold on.”

In front of her, Daphne was sitting behind Harry, her arms around him.  It actually made her realise that in a way she was sharing her boyfriend with two other girls.  It was a little unusual, because she wasn’t used to sharing at all, but this was her best friend, and her newest friend, so maybe it was good to learn to share.

Besides, they both knew who Harry was in love with.

She turned her head, “Ready?”

Ginny nodded eagerly.

“We’ll start with a trot,” Pansy smiled, and nudged her knees.  The Thestral responded, and she felt Ginny slowly start to relax.

“Harry, what sex is mine, and what’s its name?” she shouted.

“You’ve got Lucere,” he shouted back.  “She’s Tenebrus’ mate.”

“Thanks,” she yelled back.  She leant over a little and murmured into the Thestral’s ear, “Come on Lucere; let’s show the boys what we’ve got.”

Lucere whinnied her agreement, the sound was almost human, and the Thestral launched into a gallop, quickly over taking Harry and Daphne.  She could hear Ginny yelling behind her, and felt the girl tighten her grip.  She’d never had a girl hug her so hard before, and found it very different from having Harry’s arms around her.

“Fly, Lucere, fly,” she yelled.

The Thestral responded again, and her wings spread, and then took off with a swooping feeling.

“This is incredible,” Ginny yelled in her ear.  “It’s better than flying a broom.”

“I didn’t believe Harry when he said that it was better,” she yelled back.  “I was wrong.”

She turned her head, and watched as Harry urged Tenebrus into a dive over the lake.  “What’s he doing?” she yelled at Ginny.

“No idea,” the red-haired girl replied.

Pansy pulled Lucere into a gentle curve, so that they could watch.

She smiled and shook her head as Harry guided his winged horse down, till they were running on the water.  She could see Daphne throwing her head back and laughing, a look of pleasure on her face, as the Thestral’s hooves splashed water in the air.

Harry pulled back on the reigns, and the Tenebrus flapped his wings a few times, and they soared up to join them.

“We’ve not got time for much more,” Harry yelled.

“I know,” Pansy yelled back.  “Let’s land next to the kids.”

“Okay, then follow me back to the stables,” Harry shouted.

She nodded, and relaxed.  “Follow Tenebrus, Lucere,” she said into the Thestral’s ear.

The Thestral nodded, and they swooped down at full speed, landing as gently as they did before.  She hardly had to do anything; the Thestral followed her mate with an intelligence that made her wonder jut how smart the horse was.

She could feel Ginny waving at the crowd behind her, as they galloped past and headed for Hagrid’s hut.

She watched as Harry pulled up slowly, and then helped Daphne off the back.  He jumped down himself and patted Tenebrus on the neck.

Pansy steered her Thestral next to him, and smiled as he helped Ginny off, then herself.   The only difference was that she got a much tighter hug, and a kiss.

“I thought you were going running?” Pansy smiled.

“I was,” Harry protested, as he led his Thestral around to the side of Hagrid’s hut.  “But I stopped off at Hagrid’s after a lap, to see how he was.  We got to talking, and I mentioned how much I enjoyed riding Thunder over the summer.

“His eyes lit up, as it seems that the Thestrals often get bored during term, and some of them would love to be ridden.  So I walked up to Tenebrus here and asked him if he minded me riding him.”

“How intelligent are Thestrals?”

“Hagrid says that they are very smart, they can understand humans, and are pretty good in a fight as well.  They’d make cool war horses.”

“Planning ahead again?” Pansy smiled.

“Of course.  I want us to have every advantage when we fight Voldemort.

“So, I checked with Lucere, and she was willing to be ridden by my mate, and off we went.”

“It’s really weird to ride invisible flying horses,” Ginny smiled.

Harry nodded, “I hadn’t actually thought of that.  I can see them, and knew that Pansy would be able to as well.”

Ginny turned to Pansy, a curious expression on her face.

“I saw my cousin die when I was twelve,” she said softly.  “It’s not something I like to remember.”

“What I want to know,” Daphne said, as Harry pulled a plucked chicken out of a chest, and fed it to Tenebrus.  “Is what happened to your fear of flying?”

Pansy smiled slightly.  “Harry; he took me flying, and got me over it.”

“Was there anything that you two didn’t do over the summer?” Daphne asked, an amused look on her face.

“A few things,” Pansy replied, looking at her boyfriend.  “But we’ll be rectifying that soon.”  She smiled as Harry blushed faintly.

“We’ll come and see you soon,” Harry promised to the two Thestrals.

Tenebrus poked Harry firmly in the shoulder with his nose, snorted, and turned, and ran off with Lucere.

“Hagrid’s going to be so happy,” Ginny said dryly.  “Someone else likes one of his dangerous creatures.”

“Oh, Thestrals aren’t that bad,” Harry said absently.  “They’re like Hippogriffs.  If you treat them right, they’ll look after you.  Most creatures just want a little respect.  It’s not much, really.”

“Most people are too afraid of them to give respect,” Daphne pointed out.

“That’s their problem, not the animals’,” Harry shrugged. “Come on, we don’t want to be late to class.”

“It doesn’t feel right to not have potions as the first lesson,” Pansy said.

“I know, when Professor McGonagall gave me our schedules last night I nearly fell of my chair.”

“Ginny, come here,” Pansy called, as they started to walk back to the castle.  “You need to brush your hair; it’s looking a little too windswept.  Just do it a little,” she finished, handing over a brush.

“How come yours stays like that?” Ginny complained as she started to run the brush through her curls.

“Because I’ve got boring straight hair,” Pansy smiled.  “And mine’s styled to fall back into place like this.  It costs a fortune in hair dressing costs, but it’s worth it simply for the time I save.”

“I like your hair,” Harry protested.  “It’s not boring at all.  It’s soft and smooth.  I love it when you hover over me, and it falls like a curtain around us, blocking everything else from sight.”

Daphne and Ginny smiled widely, while Pansy turned around and kissed him lingeringly.

She pulled back from him, as Dobby appeared with a pop.  “Harry Potter sir has been missing his breakfast today,” Dobby said sternly, his hands on his hips.  “Harry Potter sir will be eating his bacon and egg sandwich before class.”

“Yes Dobby,” Harry said.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Harry Potter is great and powerful wizard, but if he continues skipping his proper breakfast he will be becoming house-elf size again.”

Harry nodded, and took the sandwich that appeared in the elf’s hand.  Dobby turned, and kept up with them as they walked back toward the school entrance.

“Dumbledore is not liking Dobby stopping the spying of Harry Potter sir,” Dobby said.  “Dumbledore is asking elves directly, and is making elves uncomfortable.”

“Do you want me to have a word with him?” Harry asked.

“No,” Dobby said.  “Dumbledore is not being smart.  Pushing house-elves is making a few of the elves think that Dobby is being right.  Only few, but better than before.”

“That is good news,” Harry smiled.  “If you do need any help, we’ll all be there for you.”

“Dobby knows, Harry Potter sir.  Now, Harry Potter sir finish sandwich, drink drink, not want be late for class.”

“Yes Dobby,” Harry laughed, as he finished the sandwich quickly and took the proffered drink.

Dobby nodded in satisfaction and vanished with a pop.

“He’s like a mother hen,” Daphne smiled.

“He just likes to make sure that Harry is well fed, doesn’t miss any meals, and is safe.  He’s really loyal.”

“He’s a very good friend,” Harry nodded.  “And a good teacher.”

“About that,” Daphne said.  “You’re going to have to explain how you can do house-elf style magic soon.  But I’ve got Arithmacy this morning, so I’ll see you later.”  The elegant blond strolled off to the left.

“And unlike you, I have got potions,” Ginny sighed mournfully.

Harry pulled out his hand and snapped his fingers.  “When you get to class, place this parchment on your lap.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a Legal Recording Pad.  It works without a quill, and will record everything said in the room, and who said it.  Don’t worry if he gives you a detention or takes points, just let him rant and rave.  I promise you won’t have to spend any time with him alone.”

Ginny nodded and smiled.  “Am I allowed to provoke him?”

“Only by being innocent,” Pansy said.  “Your words will be on the pad as well, and we don’t want a Solicitor complaining that he was provoked.”

“Okay, thanks,” Ginny said, and gave Pansy a quick hug before going toward the dungeons.

“Come on,” Pansy smiled, and wrapped her hands in his.  “Let’s not be late.”

Harry nodded.

“I really like her, you know?”

“Ginny?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Harry smiled.  “I do too.  But we have to hurry; I need to get changed before class.”

Harry walked into the Room of Requirement and flopped down onto a couch.  “Is it me, or was that the most boring day we’ve had in months?”

Pansy smiled and sat opposite him.  “It was pretty dull.”

“I think we need to do some training,” Harry said.  “I’ve got way too much energy, and I need to burn it off.”

“Why don’t you go and get changed into some workout gear and get this place set up.  I’ll go and get Daph, Ginny, Ron and Hermione.  We can talk about the D.A. when you’ve finished.”

“Are you going to work out with me?”

“I’ll fight you at the end,” she promised.

“Okay,” Harry smiled and bounded to his feet, his mood brightening at the promise of some limited action in the near future.  The day had been dull because he was used to being pushed to his limits, and the school set up simply wasn’t built with that in mind.  He had found that a lot of the concepts were coming easier to him now, and was impatient with others to catch up.

He walked into the bedroom, stripping of his school uniform disdainfully, and made a note to get himself some better clothes made as soon as possible.

He pulled on a clean t-shirt and a pair of tracksuit bottoms and moved back into the living room.  He concentrated hard, seeing if he could rearrange it while he was inside.  The room seemed to fade into nothingness, then recreate itself as he wanted.  It was a little disorientating, but effective.

He now had a huge padded area, with a full gym set in one corner, and a large mat covering most of the floor.  With a shrug he started to run around the mat.

He always liked to start with a run, just to loosen himself up a bit.  He followed that by stretching vigorously, using the repetitive movements to empty his mind.

When he was fully limber, he moved into the middle of the floor, and started to move as Croaker had taught him.  Each move flowed into the next without pause or hesitation, as he started with simple arm movements, used to block and redirect punches.

He then moved on, adding some offensive movements, punching in lightning fast combinations.

As he got used to moving at speed, he brought his legs into the practice, twirling and jumping as he fought imaginary assailants.  The idea behind it was to get his body used to the idea of fighting without conscious thought.  If he had to think about it, he was already acting to slowly.  This way allowed him to free his mind, and enter the state where he was concentrating on everything but how he moved.

With a spinning heel kick, he dropped into a crouch and exhaled slowly.  Without looking around, he moved over to a punch bag in one of the corners, and started to hit it.  He took his frustrations with the day out on the inanimate object, revelling in the freedom he had.  It was so much better to get it out of his system than let it fester the way he had before.

As he got used to the flow, he opened up fully on the bag, not holding back in the slightest, hitting it as fast and as hard as he could.  In his mind, faces started to appear on the bag.  Death Eaters; Macnair, Goyle, Bellatrix Black, Lucius Malfoy and even Voldemort.  He didn’t slow down, letting the anger take him, striking out at the person who was responsible for all his pain, all his anguish, all his loneliness.

He reared back, and launched a side kick at Voldemort’s imaginary face, a savage yell exploding from his lungs.  The bag flew backward and ripped from its moorings, crashing against the wall, and he fell to ground, breathing hard, suddenly exhausted.

“Sweet bloody Merlin,” he heard Daphne whistle and turned.  Lined up against one side of the room, staring at him in shock, were Pansy, Daphne, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Luna, and several other members of the D.A..

He jumped to his feet, and walked over to them.  He half smiled, as Pansy threw a bottle of water at him.  “Thanks.”

“Whose face were you seeing?” she asked softly.

“Death Eaters to start with,” he said with a shrug.  “Voldemort at the end.”  There was a gasp from some of the students as he said the name.

He watched as Luna walked toward him, standing uncomfortable close to him.  “You’ve changed,” she stated.

“I have,” he agreed, not backing away.  This would have made him uncomfortable last year, but not now.  “Can you?” he asked.

“Do I want to?” she countered.

“That’s not up for me to decide.  You have the choice.”

“And you never have.”

“Indeed.”

“I can change,” she said calmly.  “Are you going to teach?”

“Pansy and I are, yes.”

Luna nodded.  “I think I shouldn’t have spent the summer searching for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks,” she said slowly.  “Do Thestrals like being ridden?”

“They do.”

Luna nodded and stepped back, smiling slightly.  She pulled her wand from behind her ear and absently transfigured her clothes into a rough approximation of Harry’s.  She turned, and looked at the others in surprise.

“Aren’t you taking part?” she asked.

Harry laughed softly, and placed a hand on Luna’s shoulder.  “Not everyone can see where they are leaping before they jump,” he said softly.  “I don’t think the others are going to want to start today.”

“Oh,” she looked disappointed.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t,” he smiled.  “Why don’t you warm up first?”

Luna nodded and started to bounce around the room, before settling into a steady pace.

“I don’t think I can transfigure like she just did,” Ginny said slowly.  “But I’d like to start as well.”

“Go and get changed in our room,” Pansy said with a smile.  “I’ve got some shorts and a sports bra in there that should just about fit you.  I’d wear one of Harry’s t-shirts over the top.”

“Thanks, Pansy,” Ginny smiled.

“Actually, I’ll join you,” Pansy decided.  “I think Harry needs to talk to the others.”

She took Ginny’s hand and they walked out.

“Daph?” she asked curiously.

“I think I’ll listen in,” the blonde decided.

“’kay.”

Harry sat down on the mat, folding his legs, and looked up at the others.  “I’m guessing you have questions?”

“What the hell was that with Loony?” Ernie MacMillan asked, before the others could say anything.

Harry tilted his head slowly and looked at the boy before, and then slowly shook his head.  “Friendship goes past what you can see, and what you can’t,” he said softly.  “Luna just signed up to learn to fight like I can, because she feels that it’s the right thing to do with Voldemort gathering his forces.”  He allowed his stare to become a glare.  “She’s as odd as a prime number, but she’s anything but loony.”

Ernie gulped, and nodded.

“Next question?”

“Pansy said you wanted to talk about the D.A.?” Hermione said, as no one else seemed to want to say anything.

Harry nodded.  “Last year we did some remarkable things.  This year we’re going to do better.  I want to open it up to every year, every House.  When people step through my door, there will be no such thing as Houses.  We will all just be students attending Hogwarts, working together for the downfall of Voldemort.”

There was another slight gasp from some of the D.A. members at his name.  Without any conscious thought, he was on his feet, prowling around in front of them.

“Voldemort,” he said firmly, “will be the password for entry to the D.A..  Any one who signs up will be taught how to duel properly, taught how to fight, and more importantly, taught how to win.”

There were some noticeable gulps from people as they looked at him.

“Are you going to teach us to move like you do, with the kicks and the punches?” Ron asked.

“Yep,” Harry replied instantly.  “A wizard who relies purely on a wand will be at a disadvantage to one who can fight without one.”

“Where do I sign up?” Daphne asked, smiling.

“I need to talk to Hermione about that,” Harry replied, falling into parade rest in front of them.  “Last year’s contract needs a little tweaking.  I want to increase the power of the spell.  I don’t want what we are doing getting out – the punishment won’t just be a few spots this year.”

Daphne nodded.  “I thought you’d say that.  I told you before; I’ll follow you, even if you are tilting at windmills.”

“I’m only after Voldemort,” Harry grinned.  “The terms will be open, so it’s up to you if you want to join or not,” he said to the others.

“Wait a second,” Ron said.  “Did you say that you’re letting Slytherins in?”

“Obviously,” Harry said dryly, as he nodded at Daphne.

“She doesn’t count as one,” Ron stated, drawing a small smile from the tall blonde. “Are you going to let Malfoy in? Crabbe? Goyle?”

“I’m going to let anyone who signs, come in,” Harry said simply.  “I told you, there aren’t going to be any house divides in here.  We’re all aiming for a common purpose;  Voldemort’s defeat.”

“Well, I want the Malfoys defeated as well,” Pansy said, as she led Ginny past the others.  “But that’s a private issue.  Come on, Ginny,” she finished, as she jogged across the room, joining Luna who was still running in comfortable circles.

Harry smirked at her, and watched admiringly as she smoothly ran next to the other two.  He loved the way she moved, the elegant grace she always showed, as if everything she did was as natural to her as breathing.

“Harry!” Hermione called.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, feeling a little embarrassed.  “The plan is for Hermione and me to work on the contract, and then I’ll make an announcement of when we are going to start meeting.  There will be four sessions a week, of which everyone has to come to at least two which should allow everyone the opportunity to get their homework done.”

“What about yours?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

“Mine will be done as well,” Harry promised.  “Any questions?”

There was a silence, which he recognised as people having plenty of questions, but not actually having the courage to ask.  “Okay, Ron and Hermione, if you can stay behind, I need to talk to you.”

The others filled out, recognising his dismissal for what it was.  Daphne jogged into her room, and emerged a few seconds later in her own training gear and went to join Pansy, Ginny and Luna.  “Let’s go sit down,” he invited his two friends.

He preceded them into the room he shared with Pansy, and sat on the bed comfortably.

Hermione sat down next to Ron, and looked at Harry sadly.  “You’re changing so much,” she said softly.  “I hardly recognised you back there.  You had so much focused fury when you were punching that bag, it was almost scary.”

“I was thinking about Voldemort,” Harry replied.  “I saw his face as he killed Cedric, as he killed Mum and Dad.  I saw the glee when he realised that Sirius was dead.  You know the prophecy… either he dies or I do.  And there is no way on this planet that I’m leaving the brunette who’s gliding around the training room.”

“So what do you need us for?” Ron asked.

“Because I can take out Voldemort.  I need everyone else I can get to counter the Death Eaters and who ever else he brings to the fight.”

“Cool,” Ron grinned.  “So, you really gonna teach us to fight like you?”

“That’s the plan,” Harry confirmed.  “One of them, anyway.”

“One of them?” Hermione asked warily.

“Yep,” Harry nodded.  “I’m planning on having Remus elected as Minister of Magic.”  He had decided to tell them earlier, as he wanted to see what their reaction was going to be.  He hated the idea of keeping things from his friends, but he couldn’t let friendship get in the way of defeating Voldemort.  If they didn’t approve, or if he couldn’t convince them, he was going to have to wipe it from their memories, and if he did that, they’d never have the same relationship again.

It made him feel a little sick to his stomach to think of life without Ron and Hermione, but this thing was bigger than them, it was bigger than him.

“You’re going to do what?” Hermione demanded.

“Malcom is getting Fudge to pass a law allowing for Werewolves to run for public office,” he explained.  “We know that a Death Eater is going to run, as well as Fudge. We’re going to discredit Fudge a few days before the election, and expose the Death Eater.  At the same time, I’m going to publicly endorse Remus, and give a few interviews to the press about how I think he would be the perfect person to unite the warring factions and allow us to take the fight to Voldemort.

“Of course, Remus’ primary job is to stop the Death Eaters gaining power, and then make sure that the Werewolves either fight for us, or are neutral.  Malcom and I will be dealing with Voldemort.”

“But…” Hermione said, before she stopped and frowned.  “Are you sure that there will be no other candidates?”

“No one else is willing to run, as rumour has it that the Death Eaters will be most displeased.  It needs someone with courage to do it.   Moony has that courage, and knows what he is getting into.  The fact that he’s going to be a token candidate to start with should protect him.  If not, he’s safe, as he’s living at Parkinson Manor with Tonks, and that place is unplottable, and has enough wards to keep me safe.”

“I don’t like it,” Hermione sighed.  “I don’t like that you’re taking away people’s choice.”

“No, I’m not,” Harry interrupted.  “I’m changing the circumstances.  People are sheep; I’m just pointing them in the direction I want them to go.”

“People are not sheep,” Hermione retorted irritably.  “They have rights, thoughts and feelings.  They are not something you just play with.”

“Really?” Harry demanded, his eyes flashing with emotion.  “Then where were they when Voldemort first came to power?  Where were they when my parents were killed?  Or if you want to bring it up to date where were they when Cedric was killed or Sirius?  I’ll tell you where they were; they were reading the Prophet and thinking I was insane.  And even if not me, they were thinking that the supposed greatest Wizard alive was insane.  They didn’t even trust their supreme Mugwump.  And why didn’t they trust him?  Because an incompetent elected official whispered the words they wanted to hear in their ears, and they buried their heads in the sand and did nothing to help stop Voldemort.

“What do you think they would do if Voldemort and some Death Eaters Apparated into Hogsmeade right now?”

“They would run away,” Ron said, after a second when it was obvious Hermione wasn’t going to answer.

“Exactly.  They would run and hide.  Despite being warned, despite the fact that they know now for a fact that Fudge lied to them, that Voldemort is back, how many have signed up to join the Order of the Phoenix?

“None of them.”

“How do you know that?” Hermione demanded.

“I’ve got a spy in there,” Harry said, waving his hand dismissively.  “Instead of helping out, they are taking a back seat and are willing to let a bunch of children fight for them.  Children!  We should be getting ready for our NEWTS next year, not coming up with plans to defeat the Dark Lord!  Do you think its right that the D.A. is the only other group, apart from the Order of the Phoenix dedicated to help people survive this bloody war?”

“No,” Hermione said softly, looking down.

“Do you think it’s right that I have to kill Voldemort, that until recently I had no training, no support from any of the adults apart from Remus?  That last year even Dumbledore stopped talking to me?  I would have been dead several times if it wasn’t for you two.  And quite frankly, I would have probably given up if I didn’t have you as friends.  But the way we were going, we were going to lose.  Voldemort was growing in power, and no one else was doing anything.

“I’ve grown up, because I’ve been forced to.  If I had the choice, I’d walk away now, and spend my time trying to find out what colour underwear Pansy wears.  Instead, I’ve already asked Malcom and Gruoch for permission to ask Pansy to marry me.”

Ron and Hermione both gasped in shock.

“And you know why I’m doing it?  Partly because it will mean that Dumbledore can bypass the rules to allow us to continue to live together without losing face.  Partly because I’m still bloody scared that no matter what I do, Voldemort will still win, and I won’t get to have a future with Pansy.  And mainly because I’m so in love with her, that I know at sixteen that I want to spend the rest of my life with her.

“And you know what?  With that is the knowledge that I am fighting for her, that I’m fighting for the possibility of having children with her.  I’m fighting for the chance to watch her hair turn grey and her skin slowly start to wrinkle.

“Before I met Malcom and Gruoch, the only adults I could trust implicitly were your parents, Ron, and Moony.  Because I knew that they liked me for myself; apart from that, every other adult in the Wizarding world has used and abused me in one way or another.  And I’m sick of it.  I want to be myself, but I don’t have that choice, and I’ve been groomed for a very long time for this role.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about this for ages, and I think I’ve figured out that Dumbledore knew what he was doing when he placed me with the Dursleys, that he knew what he was doing when he forced me to work with Snape.  He wanted me to have nothing to live for, so that when I face Voldemort I could give everything and die heroically.

“But Dumbledore also believes that the needs of the individual out weigh the needs of the majority.  The only way that he can see society working is if the individuals he wants make the progress he thinks is needed.  It’s the only reason I can see why he continually sticks up for Snape.  Why he is protecting Draco now, why he has hidden the details of Voldemort’s birth.  He believes that everyone has the chance of redemption, and should be given it.

“Everyone,” Harry whispered, suddenly exhausted as he dropped back onto the bed.

“Everyone but me.”

He laughed softly under his breath and ran his hands through his hair.  “Because I’m not a boy to him.  I’m not a teenager struggling to be a man.  I’m a tool of his bloody prophecy, and I’m what he intends to use to allow Voldemort’s redemption.”

He looked up at his two friends, tears running down his cheeks as he gave into the relief of finally getting his fears off his chest.

A second later, he saw Hermione kneel in front of him.  She pulled him down off the bed, so that he was kneeling as well, and into a tight hug.  A few seconds later, Ron joined them.

Harry relaxed for a second, and then pulled back to look at his two friends.  “You’re right,” he said softly.  “I have changed.  I’ve had change forced upon me.  In a way, I wish I could go back to being the screwed up little boy I was when I was younger.  I wish I had handled last year a lot better.  I wish my parents had never died, and I had grown up happy.  But you know what they say, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

He met Ron’s eyes, and then turned slightly to meet Hermione’s.  “I’ve had that taken away from me, and I can’t get it back.  I’m going to be doing things you won’t approve of, and I’m sorry if that upsets you both.  I really want us to continue to be best friends, but we can’t do that if you can’t accept what I am, and what I am becoming.  And to be honest, I don’t want you to be dragged down with me.

“I’m in a situation where I have to kill someone, or I will die.  It’s remarkable how much that can focus your mind.  Voldemort will probably not be the only person I kill.  I will have many more blood stains on my hands by the time I finish.

“I will not be following Dumbledore, and the path he has set out.  I’m forging my own way with Malcom and Gruoch, with others who believe that we need to end this once and for all.  I want you with me, but I won’t force you.  Or hold it against you if you choose to follow Dumbledore, or even if you stand out.  You two have already done more for me than anyone else.”

He watched as Hermione turned to Ron, and nodded for him to go first.  He hid a smile, suddenly realising that she was making Ron think about what he said, that she wasn’t going to let her boyfriend hide behind her logic.

“I still think you should be dating Ginny,” Ron said slowly.  “But you know what?  I think it’s about bloody time we fought back.  If you know what you are doing, and those moves you were pulling off in there do kinda point to that, then I’ll follow you mate.  Been doing it this long, I’m not going to stop now.”

Harry smiled at him, and then turned to Hermione.

She was studying him thoughtfully.  “I’m not going to change, Harry,” she said slowly.  “I do think you’re wrong about people being sheep.  I think that if they are mobilised properly, they could be an asset.  I can also see your point of view.  It may be naive of me, but your grey outlook of the world just feels wrong.  But that’s irrelevant.  You are my best friend, you’ve been my friend a little longer than Ron, and while I love Ron, you will always be my best friend.  I know he feels the same about you.  I’ve followed you into places I would have sworn beforehand I’d never have had the courage to go.  I’m not going to stop now.  I’ve become a better person because of you, Harry.”

Harry smiled with relief, and relaxed back against the chair.

“There is one thing, though,” Hermione added.

“Oh?”

“I, and I’ll bet Ron does as well, want to move into here with you, Pansy and Daphne.  It’s the only way we can still spend all our time together, because otherwise, we’ll be torn.”

“Do you want to share a room or have one each?” Harry asked, deliberately making the question as bland as possible.

He watched as Hermione smiled massively as his instant acceptance.  “Two,” she said simply.

“What do you want your room to look like?” he asked.

She frowned.

“Why don’t you think it, hard?  In the front of your thoughts.  I’ll have a look at your mental picture and create it.”

“Okay,” she smiled.

He felt a little touched at the absolute faith she had in him, and reached out with his mind, lightly skimming hers.  He smiled at the image of the book lined room, and turned to look at one of the walls.  He concentrated hard, willing the image into life.

The wall of the Room of Requirement faded into nothingness, before a door appeared.

“Ron, what about you?”

“Come and get it, mate,” he said excitedly.

Harry looked into Ron’s mind, and laughed.  “I could have done that without reading your mind,” he smiled.  “I don’t suppose you’d choose a colour other than vomit-inducing orange?”

“But I like orange,” Ron protested.

“Oh Ron,” Hermione laughed.  “The muskets again?” she said, with a slight wink at Harry.

“Muskets?” Ron groaned.  “It’s the Cannons, the Chudley Cannons.  And they’re going to win this year, just you wait and see.  They’ve got a new seeker and a new chaser.  They’re on the up again.”

Harry laughed and shook his head.  He concentrated hard on the wall, and made another room for Ron, complete with orange coloured walls, next to Hermione’s.

“Dobby,” he called.

The house-elf appeared in his trademark pop.

“You rang, Harry Potter sir?” he grinned.

“Insolent elf,” Harry smirked.  “Make yourself useful and move Hermione and Ron into those two rooms will you?”

Dobby grinned and took of his cap, sweeping into an over the top obsequious bow.  “Ohhh, Dobby is a bad elf, Dobby will be punishing himself endlessly,” he promised.  “Dobby will be listening to Hogwarts elves complain about Dobby rocking boat for thirty minutes or more.”

Harry laughed and shuddered.  “I’ll forgive you – I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“Harry Potter is great and powerful wizard,” Dobby smiled.  He nodded to the others, and vanished.

Harry turned and looked at Hermione, who was staring at the space Dobby had just occupied, wide eyed at the completely un-elf like behaviour she had just witnessed.

“I told you,” he said gently.  “Dobby is a friend who happens to work for me.  I don’t beat him; I don’t force him to do anything.  It’s taken Dobby years to get to the state where he is comfortable around me and Pansy.  When we were using the Time Turner, Dobby didn’t, he simply served us at different times during his day, so that he could make sure I was alright at all times.

“He is a wonderful person, and vastly more intelligent than even I thought.  Like most wizards, I took his speech patterns to mean he was stupid.  He is not.  He was simply trained from birth to be subservient to wizards.  We both agree that that is bad; it’s just how we went about it that’s different.  I’m going to change a lot of things in the Wizarding world, including how we treat the elves.  I’d love it if you would help us organise the company that looks after the elves.”

“Are you offering me a job?” Hermione asked, turning to look at him with an expression of wonder on her face.

Harry smiled at the thought.

“I’m offering you total control,” he gently corrected her.  “We can wait till you finish school, and we’ll let you organise everything.  You will be the one who talks to Remus about the house-elves’ secession from the Wizarding world.  You will be the one who handles the publicity as the elves pull out of every home in the country, and you will be the one responsible for hiring the staff to help you organise everything.”

“Are you serious?” Hermione squeaked.

“It will be like running S.P.E.W. full time,” Harry said softly.  “But without the nauseous acronym.”

Hermione blushed faintly.  “I was young,” she said limply as an excuse.

Harry smiled.  “The offer stands, Hermione.  It won’t be easy, they’ll be a lot of work, and you’ll have to learn more about how the elves truly are than any other wizard alive.”

“Yes,” Hermione blurted instantly.  “Yes, I’ll do it.  Thank you.  Thank you.”

Harry shrugged and smiled.  “I wouldn’t have offered it to you if I didn’t think you’d be the best person for the job.”

He smiled as Hermione gave Ron an enthusiastic kiss.

“Anything you want to do?” He asked Ron, not wanting his other friend to be jealous.

“For me and Hermione to be sharing a room,” Ron said instantly.  “But as that’s out of the question for the moment, I’ll tell you nearer the time.”

Harry laughed and looked between them.  “So, are we okay?”

They both nodded.  “Thank you, for opening up to us,” Hermione replied.  “It helps us see how you’ve changed, but inside, you’re still Harry.”

“And that’s a good thing, right?”

Ron reached over and lightly punched his arm.  “Oww.”

“Isn’t Harry supposed to say that?” Hermione queried.

“You bloody try punching the steel man over there,” Ron complained.

Hermione reached out and lightly prodded Harry’s arm, and her eyes went wide.  “How hard have you been working out?”

“With the Time Turner, for every day in normal time, we did one day Martial Arts, one day duelling, and one day on Physical fitness.”

“Going back a second,” Hermione said, as she curled her legs on the floor.  “Are you really going to ask Pansy to marry you?”

“Yes,” Harry said simply.

“Why not Ginny?” Ron asked.

“Err, because I’m not in love with her?” Harry replied.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Look Ron,” Harry said softly.  “Ginny’s a great person, I really like her, and yes, I am attracted to her.  Pansy knows this, we’ve talked about it.  If things were different, I might have fallen for her.  But I didn’t.  I fell for my grey queen instead.  And I wouldn’t change the decision for anything or anyone.  Pansy didn’t play games with me, didn’t try and make me jealous, she simply went for what she wanted, and made me the best offer she could.

“Even if Ginny hadn’t said anything about Dean, I would have still fallen for Pansy, because of who she is and what she has done for me.”

Ron sighed, “I think you’d be better with Ginny, but I won’t say anything more.”

Harry sighed and smiled crookedly.  “That’ll do for now.”

“Have you got a ring?” Hermione asked.

Harry raised his hand and whispered under his breath.  A box flew from the other side of the room and into his hands.  He opened it, and showed Hermione.

“Jeez,” Ron whistled.  “That rock’s big enough to buy half of the Ministry.”

“It’s a Parkinson heirloom,” Harry said.  “Gruoch gave it to me to give to Pansy.”

“So her parents really do approve.”

Harry nodded.  “I think they were more than a little relieved that she’s not marrying Draco.”

“Wouldn’t anyone?” Ron asked.

“Probably,” Harry grinned.  “I do expect him to try and join the D.A., but I don’t think he will when he sees the contract.”

“What do you have in mind?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t suppose you’d agree to let me put an insanity clause in there?” he asked, a hopeful expression on his face.

“No,” Hermione said dryly.

“Okay then, any attempt to divulge the secrets results in complete loss of voice,” he compromised.   “If they try and write it, they lose control of the hand that is doing the writing.  In effect, any communication renders the method unusable.”

“And speaking of that, it’s about time I saw what my girlfriend is doing with Ginny and Luna.”

He stood, and reached down, pulling his friends to their feet, and walked with them back into the large training area.

He made a mental note to ask Hermione to research into how the Room of Requirement worked, because the space it was now taking up was probably bigger than the space Hogwarts had available.

Inside, he paused and watched as Pansy took the two girls through a very simple routine to help them control their falling.

He walked over to them.

“Harry,” Pansy smiled and jumped at him, wrapping her legs around his waist.  She kissed him firmly.  “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself,” he smiled.  “How’s it going?”

“They’re doing great.  Are you alright?  I felt that you were upset.”

“Long conversation,” Harry explained.  “We got through a lot.”

“You felt?” Hermione asked curiously.

“I learnt some Occlumency and Legilimency as well,” Pansy said casually.  “We can normally feel each others thoughts, especially when they are high.”

“Yep,” Harry agreed.  “I try and keep some thoughts on Pansy all the time, I find it reassuring.”

“So, since they’re about finished, so how about I give you that fight I promised earlier?”

“That would be great,” Harry said, as he placed a kiss on her hair.

“I get to choose the weapons?”

“Of course,” Harry said, as he casually threw her into the air.

Pansy twirled gracefully and walked over to a cabinet in the corner.

“Weapons?” Daphne asked.

“Of course,” Harry grinned.  “I’ll bet she chooses Bo Sticks.”

“What are they?” Ron asked.

“They’re like Quarterstaffs,” Harry said.  “But a little thinner and a little shorter.  See?” he finished, as Pansy ran back over and threw one of the sticks at him.

“See what?” she asked.

“That you’d pick this.”

“Of course,” Pansy grinned.  She twirled the stick above her head, then to one side, rotating it at a frightening speed.  “It’s the only one I can beat you with.”

Harry smiled as Luna sat serenely and watched them.  “Sit, Ginevra,” she smiled.  “It should be entertaining.”

He didn’t miss the wince that flew across Ginny’s face, and he idly wondered who had told the blonde witch Ginny’s true name.

His thoughts were sidetracked as he had to leap back wildly to avoid the edge of Pansy’s Bo as it rocketed toward his face.

“You really said that you’d rather spend your time trying to see what colour underwear I was wearing rather than fight?” Pansy said with a laugh.

“Yep,” Harry grinned.  “It was a hell of a conversation, but I hope that’s it for now.”

Pansy nodded, “They were a little warmer to me; well, Hermione was anyway.  But you know what colour underwear I wear,” she finished, returning to the more interesting subject.

Harry smiled and replied, “I don’t know what colour you are wearing today.”

Pansy smiled at him, and stood in front of the bed, moving her arms out to the side.  “Don’t you think that’s the sort of think that would stop you sleeping?”

Harry gulped softly, and nodded.

“Then come and find out,” Pansy offered gently.

Harry walked over to her, and dropped to his knees.

After their fight, they had both showered, alternating so that one of them was with the others all the time as they ate together, Dobby providing them with a full cooked meal.  They’d shared a lot of laughter as they had done their homework together, before retreating to their separate rooms.  As soon as Pansy had heard what he had done for Ron and Hermione, she had offered Ginny the same – and she’d accepted.

So Harry had rearranged the Room of Requirement, fixing his earlier mistake of placing the doorways to Ron and Hermione in his and Pansy’s room.

The layout was a lot simpler now.  There was one central room that was their living room.  Directly opposite the entrance was the door to the gym.  To the left were Ron, Hermione, and Daphne’s rooms; to the right was the room he and Pansy shared, and Ginny’s.  At the back of each room was their own separate en suite bathroom.

Harry slid his arms around her, and nuzzled his face into her stomach, before gently pulling her down so that she was straddling his legs.

He gently kissed her. “I think I should explore like that when we have more time,” he said gently.  “I want to be able to take my time, and not think about the sleep we need before class tomorrow.”

She sighed softly, and wrapped her arms around his neck.  “Sometimes you’re too noble for your own damn good.  And it’s worse when you are right.”

He smiled and kissed her again.  “Let’s go to bed.”

She nodded and stood, pulling her dress off in front of him.  “It would have been more fun for you to find out for yourself,” she pouted at him.

He looked her up and down admiringly.  “You know, you are simply gorgeous.”

“And do you like the colour?”

“Very exotic,” he smiled, and pulled off his own t-shirt, before removing his trousers.  He always slept in just his boxers.

Pansy turned her back and pulled off her bra, pulling on one of his t-shirts.

He crawled into bed, and as Pansy joined him, he waved his hand at the light switch, so that it went off, before he wrapped an arm around Pansy, buried his face in her hair, and relaxed.

“Harry, could I have a word with you alone, please?” Dumbledore asked after they had finished breakfast the next morning.

Harry looked at Pansy for a second, and then nodded.

“I’ll tell Umbridge you’ve been detained,” Pansy said dryly.

“Thanks,” Harry replied, and paused to give her a quick kiss.  With a grin at his friends, he walked in front of Dumbledore confidently.  He wanted to give the rest of the students the subconscious impression that he wasn’t cowed by the ancient wizard.

He walked to the door, and said the password quietly.  It turned out that the house-elves, under the order of the Council, were telling Dobby everything of interest that was happening in the castle.  And Dumbledore’s password was just one of the tid-bits the house-elf had passed on to him.  He was no longer even going to pretend that he felt in the slightest subservient to him.  Things had changed, and while Dumbledore had still done so much more than him, he didn’t care.

Dumbledore sat in his own chair, and looked at him, his eyes twinkling.  “I see you’ve subverted my office.”

“We could exchange semantics for a bit if you like,” Harry said cheerfully.  “But apart from proving that my vocabulary has improved over the summer, I really don’t think it will get us anywhere.”

“As you wish,” Dumbledore said slowly.  “It’s good to see you looking so well.”

“It is, isn’t it,” Harry agreed.

“Yes, well,” Dumbledore continued slowly.  “I must confess to being slightly concerned when a number of students from Gryffindor aren’t sleeping where they belong.”

“I can see how that would concern you.”  Harry had decided that his best option was to respond to direct questions, not idle queries.

“Excellent.  Would you mind telling me where Mr and Ms Weasley, and Ms Granger were last night?”

“In their rooms in the Room of Requirement.”  The question had been direct, so the answer was as well.

“I believe that Professor Snape checked the Room of Requirement, and it was empty,” Dumbledore replied.

“Do you?” Harry asked, deciding that the question hadn’t been direct enough.

“Why did Professor Snape find the Room empty if you were in it?” Dumbledore asked, evidently cottoning on to the game that Harry was playing.

“I can’t answer as to his competence or lack thereof,” Harry offered.  “I’m afraid that I had to take charge of the Room, and as Snape was neither invited nor wanted, all he saw was an empty room.”

“So you were in there?”

“As I said.”

“I’m afraid that you will all have to return to your individual dormitories tonight.  I simply can not let children sleep where it is not safe.”

“I don’t think we’ll be doing that,” Harry replied.  “As you well know, the dormitories have been compromised time and time again; on the other hand, anyone looking for us in our present quarters would encounter the same problems as Snape.  And I will not let either my girlfriend or my friend sleep anywhere near the Death Eater spawn you didn’t expel.”

“Mr Malfoy has apologised for his mistake, and has assured me that he is not a Death Eater.”

Harry laughed loudly.  “And you believed him?”

“He was telling the truth.”

“Ahh,” Harry smiled.  “You asked him if he was a Death Eater, and he said no, correct?”

The ancient headmaster nodded.

“And he promised to reform.  Wonderful.  However, I regret to inform you that as his father is still an active member of the Death Eaters, that I do not believe him.  As he has been leering over my friend for sometime, and knowing Malfoy’s immense childishness, I will not allow her to be anywhere near him at night.  Especially when Slytherin house has no credible adult supervision.”

“You do not have a choice,” Dumbledore said firmly.  “You will return to your own houses tonight.”

“The problem with your demand is that you have neither the power nor the authority to back it up.  Authority comes from respect, and I have found my respect for you has been sliding over the past few years.  There are too many questions that I have no answer for.”

Dumbledore sighed softly, obviously not having expected Harry to be so blunt.  “Perhaps I could answer some of those questions for you now,” he offered.

“Why have you forced me to work with Snape, when throughout the time I have been here, he has done nothing but insult, belittle, and generally abuse me?”

“Professor Snape is a competent teacher in Occlumency,” Dumbledore said.

“Now, you see,” Harry sighed.  “Already we are back to normal, where you are simply avoiding the implicit question.  First, let me state quite clearly that Snape is not a competent teacher, of Occlumency or any other subject.  We both know that, and I believe that I am not the only person to tell you.  Now that we have that sorry excuse out of the way, let’s try the question again.  Why have you insisted that I work with Snape, despite his ever present animosity to me?”

“Severus needs to learn to get over his hatred of your father,” Dumbledore said softly.  “It is something that is destroying him from the inside.”

Harry nodded once.  “Now, on to my next question.  Why was I left in an abusive home for the first eleven years of my life, and then forced to return there each summer afterwards?”

“It was the safest place for you,” Dumbledore replied instantly.

“Yet I have found that simply isn’t true.  I was able to be taken from there with no fuss and no force, and even the alarm not being raised till the next day.  Now correct me if I’m wrong, but does that seem very safe to you?”

“There were wards to prevent anyone from hurting you.”

“Except, of course, for the relatives who were looking after me.  Tell me, exactly why was it important to place a Wizarding child with a couple with a deep mistrust of magic?”

“They were your only blood relatives.”

“You mean all of our history lessons have been wrong?” Harry gasped theatrically.  “Hermione will be devastated.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a well known fact that all the pure blood families are interconnected in a complicated pattern.  There are plenty of people who I can claim to be connected to by blood.”

“It was also important that you got a chance to grow up normally, without the trappings of a Wizarding life.”

“Normally?” Harry laughed.  “How bloody normal is it to grow up in a cupboard?  You know what else I want to know?” he said, suddenly staring across the table at the pale blue eyes of his Headmaster.  “Exactly how is it that social services were never informed of my predicament, despite the abuse being obvious.”

“I’m afraid I have no idea,” Dumbledore said softly.

“You are not telling the truth, Albus,” Harry replied, matching his tone.  “I had Malcom do some research for me.  Social Services were notified on eight different occasions about possible abuse at Privet Drive.  Every time, the investigations were stopped mysteriously.”

“I had to, for your own protection,” Dumbledore sighed.  “If your name had been published in the investigative reports, then Voldemort’s followers would have located you.”

“And the fabled blood protection would no longer have been effective enough,” Harry finished for him.  “Security through obscurity, eh?  But this still doesn’t answer the question as to why you felt that being abused was preferable to growing up in with love or comfort.  It doesn’t explain why, as soon as I turned eleven, you started to treat me differently to everyone else.  Hermione had a visit from Professor McGonagall to explain to her parents what Hogwarts was.  Yet all I rated was a visit from the school’s groundkeeper.  Who is also a half-giant, designed to evoke fear from my relatives.  I must say that was a masterful decision.  It certainly succeeded in further alienating my relatives.”

“Hagrid is extremely good with children,” Albus replied.  “I felt that, as he was the person who rescued you that night, he would be the best choice to introduce you to the Wizarding World.”

Harry snorted eloquently and shook his head.  “I’m unable to decide if you truly believe your actions were correct, or if you have convinced yourself after the fact.  I suppose it really doesn’t matter.  Actions have consequences, Albus, as you are going to find out,.”  He chose to use the professor’s first name deliberately.

“I will not play your little games anymore, nor will I work for you, or through the Order of the Phoenix.  I will forge my own path; with intelligence supplied by people I trust a lot more than you, for the simple reason that they have never broken their word to me, and that when faced with a situation, they dealt with it as human beings, not as some sort of marionette.  I firmly believe that had you handled things differently, a lot of the tragedy of last year would not have happened.

“But it did. With reluctance, I have moved on.  I have made arrangements for you to continue to be able to use my property at Grimmauld Place.  I’m afraid that you are no longer welcome at any of the other properties that I own.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Harry,” Dumbledore said slowly.

“I think I am as well,” Harry admitted.  “It doesn’t change the fact.  Now, to get back to our original discussion; it is probably common knowledge that Pansy and I are sleeping together.  And while we both know that the board of Governors are sheep, I don’t want open warfare with you.  So, I believe that there are special rules for engaged students with Parental consent?”

“There are indeed, Harry.  But I’m afraid that, while I’m sure Malcom and Gruoch have given their permission, your guardians, the Dursleys, have not.”

Harry smiled broadly.  “Fortunately for both of us,” he purred, “the Dursleys are no longer my legal guardians.  By special edict of the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, I was declared an emancipated minor two days ago.  And as a full Adult under Wizarding law, I hereby give myself permission to marry.”

“You do seem to have thought this through,” Dumbledore admitted.  “Can I ask what your plans for Voldemort are?”

“I’m going to kill him,” Harry replied evenly.  “And probably a lot of his Death Eaters as well.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

“Yes.  They chose to support a murdering half blood; they will have to pay the consequences.”

“I can see Malcom’s influence on you,” Dumbledore said disapprovingly.

“Can you?” Harry asked curiously.

Dumbledore nodded.

Harry nodded.  “I do try and mould myself after him.  It’s been a revelation; finally, having a positive male role model I can look up to.  Especially one who believes in his family first and foremost.  I hope to continue to learn from him as I grow, and I’m looking forward to formally entering his family as his son in law.”

“Sixteen is a very young age to get married.”

“It is,” Harry agreed.  “However, as I have a psychotic Dark Lord wanting to kill me, and a Headmaster who’s made my life as uncomfortable as possible, I’m not entirely confident in my ability to live to an age I would like to.  So rather than miss out on life and worry about it, I am going to live each day as if it is my last.”

“I am sorry that you feel that way, Harry.”

“You could have stopped it,” he said tiredly, sitting back in his chair.  “And I’m still not sure you are telling me the truth about your actions, but I am going to presume that you made the decisions you did with good intentions, despite the Muggle saying.”

“I believe that I preferred your more external displays of temper,” Dumbledore said with a slight smile on his face.

“While more dramatic, it wasn’t as informative,” Harry replied.  “Although a display of temper, in the right place can accomplish more than polished rhetoric.”

“A quote from Malcom, I believe.”

“Paraphrased, yes,” Harry nodded.  He looked at Dumbledore directly, but all he could see was a tired old man, and for the first time he wondered if maybe he had been wrong; that possibly Dumbledore had really made the best decisions he could at the time, but had let his judgement be clouded as he started to believe in his own legacy.  “Do you want to talk about the D.A.?”

Albus nodded slowly, and the conversation moved on.

Pansy took a seat next to Daphne and eagerly tapped her quill on the desk.

“You’re excited,” Daphne said dryly.

“Just anticipating the amount of points I’m about to lose for Slytherin.”

“It is a problem with the House points system, when you have students who are suddenly without house.”

“And one who desperately wants a detention,” Pansy smirked.

“Ahhh,” Daphne smiled, and then went quiet as the short fat figure of Professor Umbridge stalked in.

“Open your books at page 57,” She snapped.

“Tell me,” Pansy drawled cheerfully.  “Now that you’ve been proved an idiot from last year, are we actually going to learn something useful, or are you going to continue to ensure that this class is about as useful as Fudge in a meeting without someone telling him what to say?”

“I beg your pardon,” Umbridge spluttered.

“Ahh, ignorant as well as ugly,” Pansy sighed.  “I asked if you had now learnt your lesson that Voldemort is back, and if you are actually going to teach us some defence against the Dark Arts, or if you are going to crouch behind your desk and catch flies.”

“Fifty points from Slytherin,” Umbridge roared.  “I have never been so insulted in my life.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure someone’s called you worse than an ugly toad with an inflated opinion of herself?  If not, I’ll have to see if I can do better.”

“How about a fat bitch whose only talent involves using that elongated tongue to make Fudge’s day?” Daphne asked Pansy.  “Do you think that was worse?”

“I’m not sure,” Pansy replied thoughtfully.

“One hundred points from Slytherin, and detention, both of you, tonight!”

Pansy smiled cheerfully.  “You didn’t answer my question, though.”

“Study your books in silence!” Umbridge yelled.

After a very boring hour had passed, they all filed out of the class.

“What was that about?” Hermione asked, as she walked next to Pansy, Ron flanking her.

“No one touches my family,” Pansy said softly.  “She hurt my Harry, and now she is going to pay.  The only reason she’s still at school is so I can get my revenge.  I got Dad to arrange it for me.  I want a message sent out around the world that if you touch Harry Potter, he might forgive you, but I won’t.”

Hermione turned to look at her closely.  “Are you serious?”

“Very,” Pansy said softly.  She turned to look at Hermione.  “I’ve been inside Harry’s mind, I’ve seen what people have done to him, and I won’t let anyone hurt him and get away with it again.”

“I told you Slytherins were dark,” Ron muttered.

Pansy sighed and shook her head.  “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” Ron demanded.

“That Houses are totally irrelevant.  There is Good and Evil are in all of Hogwarts’ Houses, and stereotyping people by a decision made when they were eleven is pointless.  I can name Death Eaters that have come from every house, including Gryffindor.  Does the name Peter Pettigrew ring a bell?  Tell me, Ron, what would you do if someone hurt Ginny, hurt her bad?” she challenged him.

Ron went silent.

“What would you do if Michael Corner pulled her into a cupboard, and abused her?”  Pansy waited a second, and then sighed and continued.  “I’ve seen how you act, Ron.  I’ve seen how you lose your temper.  You love Ginny as your sister; I love Harry as my life.  I don’t get mad, I get even.  If no one ever hurts Harry again, I will never have to do anything at all about it, and I will be happy.  But if one person does, I will make them into an object lesson for everyone else, in the hope that I never have to do it again.

“To me, Ron, Harry comes first, above everyone else.”  She turned on her heel, and walked off.  She could feel that Daphne was besides her and felt her friend place her arm around her.

“Thanks, Daph,” she whispered softly.

“Let’s get to class,” the blonde replied.

Ginny sighed as she flopped down on the chair.  “You could have warned me in advance you were going to get a detention with Umbridge.”

“Oh, sorry,” Pansy apologised.  “I forgot.”

“Well, I finally managed to have detention with you tonight.  I had to call her an ugly toad to her face, but it worked.”  She frowned.  “Some people are a little upset with me for losing so many points.”

“Do you care?” Pansy asked, as she looked at the smaller girl.

“Not as much as I did last year,” Ginny admitted.  “It’s strange how the points system seems a little stupid now.”

“I was saying the same thing earlier,” Daphne smiled.  “As we’re no longer really in a House, it’s a bit pointless.”

Ginny nodded, and looked at her watch.  “Where’s Harry?”

“He’s spending some time with Vector.  As he’s new to the course, he asked for some tuition so he can catch up.”

“Have we got time for something to eat first?” Ginny asked.

“Dobby,” Pansy called.

Dobby appeared in a pop, “You rang Mistress.  Dobby thinks that you are wanting something to eat?”

“Please,” Pansy said.

“Dobby is happy to help Mistress Park’son,” the elf said, as he vanished, and food started appearing on the table to the side of the room.

“Come on,” Pansy said, standing and dragging Ginny out of her chair.  “Let’s eat.  But not too much, you might not like what you see this evening.”

Ginny paused and looked at Pansy directly.  “I’ve been possessed by Voldemort,” she said seriously.  “I know more about horror than most people.”

Pansy took a step forwards and hugged Ginny tightly.  “I’ve seen Harry’s memories of Voldemort,” she whispered.  “As much as I can, I understand.”

“Not to break up the moment,” Daphne said dryly.  “But when were you possessed by Voldemort?”

“My first year,” Ginny said as she sat down, avoiding Daphne’s eyes.  “I was given a diary with a bit of Voldemort’s soul in it.  I told it everything, and it used me.  He used me to control the Basilisk.”

Pansy watched as Daphne dropped to her knees next to Ginny, and forced the younger girl to look at her.  “One of the things about being friends is that they stand by each other,” the blonde said softly.  “It wasn’t your fault.”

Ginny smiled a little crookedly.  “Not everyone would accept that.”

“We do, and we’re the ones who count,” Pansy said with a grin.  “Now let’s eat and get to our detention.”

They ate together, and then walked to the Defence classroom for their detention.

“So good of you to turn up,” Umbridge crowed as they entered.  “Your father will be of no protection to you here.”

Pansy shook her head sadly and shut the door firmly.

“I want you to write ‘I will not insult a Professor’ a hundred times,” Umbridge stated firmly.

Pansy grinned and picked up the quill laid out for her, and made a small scratch on the parchment.  The scratch was instantly duplicated on the back of her hand.

“You really are incredibly stupid,” Pansy sighed.  “Daph, will you silence the door, please?”

“What are you doing?” Umbridge yelled as Daphne cast a silencing charm on the door.

“Now, we’re all alone,” Pansy said cheerfully, dropping the quill on to the parchment.  “Didn’t you get any idea about what was happening in the Ministry when your requests for transfer were denied, when Fudge wouldn’t even talk to you any more?

“Didn’t even a small warning bell ring in your head when my father announced that he was the head of the board of Governors?

“Or did you think that this little detention would be your revenge for my father humiliating you, for our house-elf humiliating you?  You did, didn’t you?”

Umbridge pulled her wand out and pointed it at the three girls uncertainly.

“Did you think that no one would ever know about what you did to Harry last year?” Pansy purred in a low voice that was all the more daunting for its lack of volume.  “Did you not think that his girlfriend might know, and might expect your tricks?”

“Stay back,” Umbridge said, waving her wand threateningly.

“Put it away, you stupid cow,” Ginny sighed.

“You little,” Umbridge started, but stopped in shock as Pansy placed one hand on the table and used it as a pivot point, swinging her legs over it, and kicking the wand out of Umbridge’s hand.

Pansy continued the movement and tucked her legs in, shifting her weight, so that she landed in a chair on the other side of the table quite comfortably.

Umbridge gaped at her.

“It’s amazing what you can learn when you have a competent Defence teacher,” Pansy smiled.

“What do you want?” Umbridge demanded, looking at the door with a desperate expression on her bloated face.

Daphne and Ginny pulled out their wands, and pointed them at the Professor.

“You can’t get away with this,” Umbridge blustered fearfully.

“We already have,” Pansy replied.  “Dad knows that I am doing this, it’s why you’re still here.  You hurt one of my family, and we all work together to get revenge.  Your political career is over and done with.  Fudge has washed his hands of you.”

“What do you want?” Umbridge asked, as she suddenly collapsed behind her desk.

Pansy leant forwards and slowly, deliberately, placed the quill and pad before the professor.

“You are going to write, ‘I will not hurt Harry,’ five hundred times.”

“But that’s a Blood Quill,” Umbridge protested, going white.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Pansy smiled coldly.

“I won’t do it.”

“Oh you will,” Pansy purred.  “Because if you don’t, you’ll be confessing all your sins to the school tomorrow morning, and then, after you have been fired, you will walk up to the Astronomy Tower, and you will jump off the roof.”

“I would never, ever, do that,” Umbridge said, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Imperio ,” Pansy said, making her voice as cold as she could.  “You forget who you are dealing with.  I am not Harry; I’m not honourable or nice.  I come from a family of dark wizards.”

“But there are witnesses,” she said, pointing at Daphne or Ginny.

“I think the word you are looking for is accomplices,” Daphne corrected fastidiously.

“She’s right,” Ginny agreed.  “Just think, I’m from a light family.  Everyone knows that we are against Voldemort, and with me swearing that we had detention, and that you seemed a little depressed about your situation as we left, no one will even look at us twice.  Now be a good little toad,” she finished, her voice as cold as Pansy’s, “and start writing.”

With a tear rolling down her cheek, Umbridge did just that.  As she made the first stroke, she winced, but didn’t stop.

“I think that I’ll get Harry to tell Dad to get rid of her,” Pansy said, as they walked back to the Room of Requirement.

“I can’t believe she put Harry through that,” Daphne sighed.

“I didn’t realise just how bad things were for him last year.”

“Harry should have told someone, anyone, about it,” Pansy nodded.  “I do blame Dumbledore for allowing it.”

“Ladies, should I expect a new colleague soon?” a stern voice interrupted them.

Pansy turned and looked at the tall Professor.

“One of the Professors might have trouble grading paper this week,” Pansy said evenly.

“An eye for an eye?”

“Something like that,” Pansy nodded.  “I think that any request for transfer she might make would be granted now.”

McGonagall smiled faintly.  “It’s late; I’d get to your rooms.”

Pansy tilted her head and looked up at the Professor.  “Thank you, Professor.”

The professor nodded her head, and turned around and walked away.

“I can see why Harry has such respect for her,” she said softly.

Ginny and Daphne nodded, and they hurried back to the Room of Requirement.

Inside, Harry was lounging on a couch, reading from a book; Ron and Hermione were seated next to each other at the table, studying.

Pansy walked straight over to Harry and sat down next to him.

“Hey,” he smiled.  The smile warmed her, and reminded her exactly why she had done what she had done a few minutes ago.  “Long detention?”

“Umbridge and I came to an understanding,” she said softly.  “She won’t be doing it again.”

“So we can get rid of her?” Harry asked.

“Yep.”

“Okay.  I’ve already talked to Malcom, and we’ve got a plan to deal with Snape tomorrow.   Ginny really helped speed things up today.  With him gone, we’ll be free to study in peace.”

“Can I ask what you did?” Hermione asked, walking over to join them.

They’d rearranged the furniture again, so that there were three two-people couches surrounding a new fireplace.

“Made her use her own torture device,” Ginny said calmly.  “Pansy’s acting was perfect.”

Pansy smiled slightly.  “Thanks.”

“Good,” Ron said, “Serves her right.”

Hermione looked troubled, but didn’t say anything.

“What’s the plan for Snape?” Ron asked eagerly.

“Let him hang himself,” Harry shrugged.  “I’m hoping to not have to do anything at all.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“Professor Snape has a legal obligation to act like a Professor.  If he doesn’t, then he can only hold himself responsible for any ramifications.”

Hermione nodded and smiled.  “That I can agree with.”

“Harry, I need to talk to Dad, can I borrow the notepad?”

“Of course, it’s in our room in the top drawer of my cabinet,” Harry smiled.  “After you arrange for Saturday, make sure you leave the evening free for us.  I want to take you out for dinner.”

Pansy smiled happily, and gave Harry a hug.  “I’d love to,” she whispered, as she placed a kiss on his cheek.

She walked out, and smiled as she heard Ron ask, “What’s happening on Saturday?”

“Daph,” Harry said, as they walked toward the Potions dungeon.  “Whatever Snape says, do not react.”

Daphne nodded.

“And Pansy?”

“Yes, love?”

Harry flashed her a grin at the term of affection, “No matter what he says about me, don’t react.”

Pansy pouted.  “Can’t I just curse him once?” she whined playfully.

“Uh-uh,” Harry grinned.  “If you curse him, you don’t get kisses afterwards.”

“But I like kisses,” Pansy pouted.

“I know,” Harry agreed.  “But kisses are for good girls who don’t curse their Potions Professor today.”

“No fair,” Pansy said, her lower lip trembling.

“That’s the rules,” Harry stated firmly.

“They better be good kisses,” Pansy muttered, giving in.

“Excuse me for a second,” Harry said politely to Daphne.  He turned to Pansy and placed his hands under her arms, and lifted her into the air, spinning her around.  He walked against a wall, and lowered her slightly so that she was eye to eye with him.  With a deliberate slowness he leaned in and kissed her tenderly.  Very carefully, he flicked his tongue out and gently touched Pansy’s lips.  She opened her mouth instantly, and he deepened the kiss, before pulling back.  “Lots of kisses, just like that,” he promised.

Pansy looked at him for a second, and then laughed.  “Oh, I do love you, Harry Potter,” she said firmly, and kissed him briefly.

Harry smiled at her and let her down.

“If you two have quite finished,” Daphne smiled.  “We’re going to be late to class.”

“Actually,” Harry said as he looked as his watch.  “We should be right on time.”

He opened the door to the Dungeon, and ushered the two girls in.

“So good of you to join us,” Snape sneered instantly.  “Ten points from Gryffindor for being late.”

“I believe that there are three of us exactly on time,” Harry said amicably.

“Ten points for your rudeness,” Snape snapped.  “It’s obvious that you are in charge of your little harem, so you lose points.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said.  “Did you just accuse both of these students of engaging in illicit behaviour that is against Hogwarts rules?”

“Ten points for questioning a Professor,” Snape replied instantly.  “And since when has something being against the school rules stopped you, Potter?”

Harry shrugged and went to sit down, Pansy next to him.

“Oh no, I’m not having you cheat with your little tart, Potter,” Snape interrupted them.  “You will sit alone.  I have no idea how you managed to bribe the Examining board to give you a passing grade in your potions exam, and I don’t care.  You are a complete waste of my time and effort, and have the potions skill of a first year.”

“Wouldn’t that reflect more on the professor than the student?” Harry asked, his voice as level and incurious as possible.  He could see Draco smirking out of the corner of his eye.

“What did you just say?” Snape roared, storming over to Harry’s desk.

“I questioned your professional integrity,” Harry explained helpfully, “and gave a pretty strong implication that your abilities as a professor were lacking both in the personal sense, and in the instructional sense.  I also implied that you should not be teaching at all.”

Snape gaped at him.  “You’re as arrogant as your father, and just as ignorant.  I will not be talked to like that in my own classroom.”

The door to the dungeon slammed open, and Malcom, accompanied by two other board members and the Headmaster of Hogwarts entered the room.

“Fortunately, Snape,” Malcom sneered.  “This is no longer your classroom.  Please consider your contract terminated with prejudice, effective immediately.  You will accompany my colleagues to you quarters, where you will pack your belongings, and leave Hogwarts immediately.”

“What?” Snape asked, his pallid face going even paler than before.  “You can’t do that.”

Harry stood and handed Malcom the Legal Recording Pad he pulled out of his pocket.

Malcom took it, and added the one from Ginny that Harry had given him earlier.  “I have numerous testimonies from students over the past fifteen years about your inability to teach, and your complete lack of professional decorum,” Malcom said, sounding bored with the whole thing.  “I also have two transcripts of your attempts at teaching.  You are obviously not qualified to instruct children in the art of potions.  Your class yesterday with the fifth years was the most disgusting display I have ever had the misfortune to read.

“And take the last five minutes,” Malcom continued.  “I was planning on waiting till you had at least finished this lesson, but a student entered on time for the first lesson of the year.  And your reaction was to single out one of the three students, incidentally, the only one not in your house.  You then ignored his polite response, and accused my daughter and her friend of being whores.

“You followed that up by casting scandalous aspersions both on the student himself, and the whole examining board.  I have personally checked Harry’s results, as has your Headmaster, and my two colleagues from the Board of Governors.  We all agree that Harry’s passing grade was a fair result, and that he received no special treatment at all.”

“Professor?” Snape asked, looking at Dumbledore for help.

Dumbledore sighed heavily.  “I did warn you, many times, Severus.  I even asked you this morning to behave yourself.  The Board of Governors have revoked your contract, and there is nothing I can do.”

“This isn’t over,” Snape hissed at Harry and turned away.

“So he’s no longer a Professor, right?” Harry asked Malcom.

“Correct.”

“Snivellus?” Harry called, as he stood and moved around his desk.

Snape turned, his face going red.

Harry reared back slightly, and launched the hardest punch he had thrown yet.  He felt the cartilage of Snape’s nose snap under his fingers.  He turned around, and sat back down at his desk.

Malcom looked down at Snape, who was now on the floor clutching his nose in pain.  He looked up at the other two Governors.  “Considering there’s been five years of abuse, I’d call that a justifiable reaction to extreme provocation, wouldn’t you?”

“Absolutely, Malcom,” Simon, Malcom’s cousin, said, nodding firmly.  “Tempted to do it myself.  Mighty fine punch, young man.  Mighty fine.”

Harry looked up and smiled, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good at school.  He hadn’t been intending on punching the professor, but the final comment about his father had been a step too far.  He was pretty sure that he’d actually saved his professor from a serious curse, as Pansy had looked furious.  He was actually quite looking forward to giving his girlfriend her reward kisses.

“I think that Umbridge would love to have a word with you, as well,” Harry said to the older man.

“Already done,” Malcom smiled.  “Our dear ex-Professor is currently waddling her way down to Hogsmeade.”

Harry matched the smile.  “It’s been a good morning,” he admitted.

“I have some more good news for you,” Malcom smiled.  “I persuaded Nymphy to take the post of D.A. professor for the rest of the year.”

“That’s brilliant,” Harry said enthusiastically.  “Having a real Auror is a great idea.”

“I thought so,” Malcom said modestly.  He bent down and absently removed Snape’s wand from his pocket.  “Get him out of here,” he said to his two colleagues.  “Get him to the Nurse, and then get his stuff and him off school property as soon as possible.”

“Right away, Malcom,” The one who had spoken before replied.  He walked over, and pulled out his wand and cast a levitating spell.  “Come, Matthew,” he continued to the other man.  “The sooner we get out of here and stop interrupting the classroom, the better.”

“Professor Dumbledore,” Malcom said formally.  “I believe it would be wise to cancel today’s Potions classes, while we retreat to your office and have a look at applications for your new vacancy.”

Dumbledore nodded firmly.  “Please return to your Common Rooms,” he said to the class, before turning and walking out of the dungeon.”

Malcom nodded at Harry, and shot a wink at his daughter, before following the Professor out of the room.

“It’s all gone wrong, hasn’t it, Draco,” Daphne said as she looked at the now pale-faced Slytherin.

“Your problem,” Pansy said as she sat down comfortably on Harry’s lap and wrapped an arm around him for balance, “is that you have no idea how to really use power.  You threaten and bluster and rely on your father’s reputation.  Harry has never relied on anyone, and he has the authority you lack - because everyone knows that when our backs are against the wall, he’ll be in front, fighting.”

Draco sneered at them.  “The Dark Lord will get you,” he hissed.

“Yes, Draco, we all know you’re a Death Eater wannabee,” Pansy sighed.  “You told us the other day.  Tell me, can you say his name yet?”

“Voldemort,” Ron said. “It’s not a hard name.”

“Voldemort,” Hermione added.  “Look, a mudblood saying the name of your saviour,” she taunted.  “And look, I’ve not been shot down.”

Draco pulled his wand out, and pointed it at Hermione.

There was a shifting in the room, as everyone else pulled their wands out and pointed them straight at Draco.

“Say his name, Draco,” Harry said.  “Say Voldemort.”

“Come on Draco,” Neville said.  “If even I can say Voldemort, surely you can as well.”

Draco looked around at all the wands pointed at him helplessly, and then stormed out the door, his two body guards behind him.

“Nicely done, Neville,” Harry said, impressed.

Neville blushed slightly.  “Thank you,” he said.  “I got Nan to practice with me over the summer.  She’s not afraid of anyone.”

Harry smiled and nodded.

“I can’t believe Snape’s gone,” Dean said, shaking his head.  “It’s like a wonderful dream I don’t want to wake from.”

“And the best thing,” Pansy smiled, “is that we didn’t do anything, we just let people see the true Snape.  If he’d been a decent professor, he’d still be teaching here.”

“I’m more pleased that Tonks is teaching the Defence class,” Harry said.

“It’s a pity we couldn’t get Professor Lupin back,” Blaise Zabini said.

“Moony’s busy,” Harry said calmly.  “He can’t be stuck in school at the moment.”

“Okay,” Blaise said thoughtfully.  “Where do I sign up for the D.A.?”

Harry looked at Blaise.  “Have you heard of the contract?”

“Yes.”

“We’ve changed the spell on it.  If you try and talk about the D.A., you will lose the use of the part of your body that you are trying to use to communicate.  Only one of the senior D.A. members will be able to remove the spell.”

“Like I said,” Blaise smiled.  “Where do I sign up?”

Harry sighed and watched as the owl swooped down toward Ron and Ginny in the Great Hall.  They’d spent the rest of the day before in lessons, before doing their homework and relaxing.

The owl landed in front of Ron, carrying a steaming red envelope on its leg.  The red-haired boy stared at it as if it was Voldemort himself.  Harry made an instant decision to do something about it.  “Finite Incantatem ,” he said, his wand in his hand.

“Thanks.”  Ron sighed with relief.

“Pick it up,” Harry told him.  He shot a glare at Dumbledore, who didn’t react.  “Guys, let’s get out of here.  We’ll eat breakfast alone.”

He stood and walked straight out of the Hall, the doors opening long before him as he let loose a bit of his temper.  He knew exactly what was in the Howler he had just disabled, and didn’t like it one bit.  He should have anticipated it.

He stormed into the Room of Requirement and threw himself into a chair.

Pansy sat next to him, Ron and Hermione to his left, Ginny and Daphne to the right.  Ginny reached over before she sat down and grabbed the envelope from Ron.

“Harry?” she asked.

“Dumbledore told your parents,” he said to her.  “I’ll bet that’s a Howler from your mum for moving out of Gryffindor Tower.”

“Why haven’t Daphne and Hermione got one?” Ron demanded.

“Probably can’t find my parents,” Daphne shrugged.  “And even if he did, they’d tell him to mind his own business.”

White Knight, Grey Queen

7 - Consequences (part 2)

“And mine can’t send Howlers, they’re Muggles, remember.  I fully expect to receive some form of communication from them.”

“I should have anticipated that Dumbledore would do this,” Harry grumbled, letting his temper fade away.

“You can’t think of everything.”

Ginny opened the envelope.  “You know, why didn’t we think to just cast that spell on these before?  Why didn’t Fred and George?  It would have saved so much embarrassment over the years.”

“Because you felt that you deserved them,” Harry said with a sigh.  “It was part of the punishment for something you did.  In this case, you’ve not done anything bad at all, but I’m sure that Dumbledore gave that impression without actually saying it.”

“Hmm,” Ginny said.  “It says here that I’m a scarlet woman; so are you Hermione.  Pansy, you and Daph are evil monsters, Harry, she doesn’t know what you are playing at, but demands that you stop.  And she finishes with something that would probably sound impressive if it was shouted, but looks a little silly written down.” She shrugged, and threw it into the fireplace.  “Basically, Ron and I are ordered back to Gryffindor Tower.

“And you’ll have to go,” Harry said grumpily.  “I wouldn’t put it past Dumbledore to either expel you, or get your mum here on a permanent basis.  I really wish she’d show just a little trust in us.”

“You wish?” Ron said.  “I’m bloody fuming.  This is the second time she’s jumped to conclusions about us and reacted first.”

Hermione sighed.  “So we’re moving back?”

“You know, I can see why Dumbledore has done this.  He still believes that he is the great chess master.  Unfortunately, he’s been playing the game too long, and thinks that all the pieces are pawns.  Without the key pieces, pawns will lose every time.

“The only thing I can think of doing is trying to talk to Molly at the next Order meeting.  I somehow get the impression that she wouldn’t be impressed if I just turned up in her kitchen at the moment.”

“She wouldn’t listen,” Ginny said sadly.

“I wish your parents weren’t so convinced of Dumbledore’s infallibility,” Harry sighed.  “I tried to recruit your dad in his office, over the summer.”

“He didn’t tell us that,” Ron said with a frown.

“He wouldn’t even listen to me,” Harry explained.  “He immediately spouted off about Malcom and Pansy being dark, because Albus has told him that’s true.  I know your dad’s a good person, but a bit more independent thought wouldn’t hurt.  So I had to Obliviate him.”

Ron blinked.  “You Obliviate d Dad?”

“He had to,” Ginny interrupted.  “Think about it.  Dad would have told Dumbledore instantly that Harry was at the Ministry.  Dumbledore would have known instantly that Harry wasn’t in hiding with a Muggle family, and would have been able to track him down.”

Harry nodded.  “And I was nice, I left him with the memory that he was looking at a very interesting washing machine.”

“But still…” Ron grumbled.

“I would have done you and Hermione yesterday if things had been different,” Harry said bluntly.

“What!?”

“Didn’t you listen?” Harry demanded, a bit irately.  “I’ve told you, this is bigger than anything.  This is the future of the Wizarding World we are talking about.  I gave you a choice, and if you hadn’t taken it, I would have removed the memory of the plans from your mind.  If you’re with me, I’ll trust you with everything.  If you’re not, then I won’t.”

Hermione shook her head slowly.  “You know,” she said in a soft voice.  “I think I actually find that reassuring.”

“What?” Ron asked, swivelling to look at his girlfriend.

“He wasn’t lying, Ron.  He really believes that this is the way forward to end this once and for all.  Just imagine a Hogwarts where we can study in peace, have fun, and not have the threat of death hanging over us.

“Imagine a world where you can go to a Quidditch match and watch it with your friends, knowing that a stupid Death Eater attack won’t spoil it.  Imagine a world where we can have Hogsmeade weekends every weekend, without it being a massive security effort.

“That’s what Harry’s going for here.  Not a half way solution that might end it or might not.  He’s going for a complete victory.  It’s a little risky, and I do think he’s gambling, but you know what, I’m not the one in charge here.  I’m here to help advise him.  We are all here to do that.  We’ve all got different perspectives on things, and offer different insights.  A good leader surrounds himself with people he can trust, and people who trust him.  He gets people who will offer different things.  Look around, we’ve got you, a hard core Gryffindor with more loyalty than any Hufflepuff.  Ginny, a girl who knows as much about Voldemort as Harry does and isn’t afraid of him.  Pansy, a girl whose first concern is Harry, to a level I find a bit scary.  Daphne, a girl who’s sneaky and not far from being as smart as I am. And me; I’m probably the most Ravenclaw of us.  We cover a lot of the spectrum.

“Harry said yesterday that he’s going to do things we don’t like, but that’s his job.  He’s our focus point.  It comes down to trust, Ron.  Do you trust that Harry is going to get the job done or not?”

Ron looked in surprise at his girlfriend, and then at Harry.  “I do,” he said simply.  “But what I don’t like, is bloody moving out.”

Harry laughed softly.  “I don’t either.”

“Can you ask Dobby to move our stuff back?” Hermione asked with a sigh.  “I swear that you lot are a bad influence on me.”

“In what way?”

“In that we’re going to have yours and Ginny’s birthday party, tonight,” she replied.  “And we’re going to have a drink.”

Harry laughed and looked at his watch.  “What time?”

“Seven o’clock in the tower.  We’ve invited most of the D.A.”

“Speaking of that,” Harry said with a frown.  “We need to officially change its name to the Defence Association.  I’m not running Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Not many people actually think of it as that,” Ginny said.  “They’re fighting for you, not for him.”

Harry nodded and smiled.  “Right, we need to get to class.  Let’s keep our heads down today, keep quiet, have a ball tonight and then, tomorrow, Malcom and I will put our heads together and see what we can come up with.”

“Okay,” Pansy smiled and climbed to her feet.  She offered her hand to Ron.  “Let’s go eat.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Ron said, looking a little surprised, as he took her hand.

She pulled him up, and moved him toward the table.  Daphne and Ginny followed them.

Hermione looked at Harry and shook her head slowly.  “You know that’s kinda spooky?”

“What?” Harry asked with a grin.

“The way Pansy decided that we needed to talk alone, and diverted Ron without trying.”

“That’s Gruoch,” Harry nodded.  “Pansy’s been learning how to manipulate people for some time.  She was a little disappointed that she couldn’t do it on Snape.”

“She tried?” Hermione asked, looking surprised.

“The first night we were here, when we both went to Dumbledore’s office.  Snape was being his usual bright and cheery self, and tried to intimidate us.  It didn’t work, so Pansy tried it back.”

“What happened at that meeting?”

“It ended strangely, with Dumbledore suddenly being cheerful and closing it.  At the time, I thought that he knew something, but you know, I’m beginning to think that he was bluffing.”

“It worries me that you have a bad relationship with Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione said.

Harry nodded slowly.  “Hermione, next time you get a chance, just look at him.  Just watch him and see what you think.  You might be a little surprised if you look behind his aura at the man behind it.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry shook his head.  “I’m not going to tell you.  Consider it an experiment.  I don’t want to prejudice you with an answer.”

He stood up and offered her a hand.  “What I am going to do, is something I don’t think I’ve ever initiated before.”

“What’s that?” Hermione asked, as she moved to her feet.

“Hug you,” Harry said, and did just that.

He felt Hermione’s arms wrap around him.

“Promise me we’ll always be friends - that we’ll grow old as friends.”

“I can’t promise that,” Harry whispered.

“Lie to me convincingly, then.”

“I can’t do that either.  All I can do is promise you that I will do everything it takes to make it happen.”

Hermione sighed softly.  “You’ve changed so much Harry, grown up so much, and you’re forcing me to, as well.  I’ll fight you if I think you’re wrong, I’ll try and change your mind.  But never doubt that I love you.”

“I love you back, Hermione,” he whispered.  “I’ve never doubted that you won’t be there for me.”

“Let’s go eat breakfast,” Hermione replied, stepping back from him.  “I don’t want your grey queen thinking I’m poaching on her private grounds.”

Harry laughed softly.  “You’re talking about the girl who sent me flying with Ginny, with the full knowledge that Ginny was going to kiss me.  You’re talking about a girl who’s probably guessed our entire conversation already.”

“And she trusts you.”

“Completely,” Harry agreed.

Hermione sighed softly and looked at Ron.  “I wish I could say the same.”

“You can trust Ron,” Harry said with a frown.

“Oh, I can, as much as I could trust any other boy,” Hermione smiled.  “But he’s only human.  I couldn’t let him kiss Lavender – I’d be scared of what would happen.”

“He might surprise you.”

“And he might not, I don’t want to take that gamble,” she explained.

Harry smiled, “Then don’t.”

Hermione laughed and they walked over to eat before classes start.

“Harry,” Pansy called.

“Yeah?” Harry said, as he looked up.

“I’ve put some clothes in the training room for you.  Make yourself a shower in there.”

“Okay…?”

Pansy smiled and walked over to him.  “I’ve got Ginny and Hermione coming over, and we’re going to have a girly session before the party.  And as much as two of them probably wouldn’t mind you ogling them, the third would.  So you’re banned to the training room.”

Harry laughed softly.  “Does the fact that I don’t really want to ogle anyone but you come into it at all?”

“I know you don’t, sweetheart,” Pansy replied.  “But you’ll enjoy the results.”

Harry nodded.  “I’ll have a bit of a workout before we get going,” he said.

Pansy nodded.  “Starting from Sunday, you’re going to have to force me to workout with you.  It’s been too easy for me to stop this week.”

“I will,” he promised, and turned around.

“Harry,” Pansy called.

“Yeah?”

She turned him around and gave him a kiss that made him a little unstable.  The kiss was full of promise and desire.

“I fully expect you to find out for yourself what colour underwear I’m wearing later.”

Harry grinned impishly at her.

“We’re not meeting your parents till eleven tomorrow,” he smiled.  “That means that we can sleep in a bit.”

“I’ll knock on the door when we’re done, and meet you there.”

Harry pulled her in for a quick kiss, and then walked into the training room.

He looked at the khaki trousers and shirt that had been provided, and shook his head.  If Pansy was going to make an effort for him, he should really make one for her.  He stepped into the other place that the elves used to travel, and wandered over to Parkinson Manor.

“Hey, Gruoch,” Harry said cheerfully.

“Harry!” Gruoch smiled, as she walked over and gave him a hug.  “How are things going at school?”

“A lot of conversations with Dumbledore,” Harry smiled.  “He’s being himself.  I had Ron, Ginny, and Hermione moved in to the Room of Requirement with us, but he decided to talk to their parents about it.”

Gruoch nodded.  “I know, I had a chat with Dumbledore as well.”  She sniffed elegantly.  “I suspect I made my position perfectly clear.  But let’s not talk about interfering old men.  When are you going to ask my daughter to marry you?”

“Tonight,” Harry said with a slightly nervous smile.  “Hermione, Daphne, Ginny, and Pansy are all having a girl’s night in, before the birthday party for me and Ginny.”

“And you were told politely to get out of the way?”

“Absolutely,” Harry grinned.  “I’m supposed to be working out, but I figured that if she’s putting an effort in, I should do the same.  So, knowing that my idea of fashion is ‘does it fit?’, I decided to come see you.”

Gruoch laughed and reached out, tousling his hair.

“I’m glad you did.  Malcom’s working late, and with us going our separate ways tomorrow, I was worried I wouldn’t get to see you.”

Harry nodded.  “Me too.”

“Come on,” she smiled.  “I’ve got just the thing you need for tonight.  It’s not too formal, and it will guarantee that my daughter will fall in love with you all over again.  I picked it up a few days ago, when I was shopping.”

Harry smiled, “That sounds good.”

“And then I’ll do your hair, and you can bring me more up to date with what has happened over the last few days.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.  Go jump in the shower while I get the clothes out.”

Harry nodded, and walked out of the room, automatically going to what he thought of as his room.  He pulled off his clothes and stepped into the shower, washing himself, and his hair, quickly.

He stepped out and dried himself with a soft towel, and made a note to himself to get some sent to the school.

He pulled on a pair of boxers and walked back to see Gruoch.  She wasn’t his mother, but she was probably the closest thing he had.  As much as he loved Molly, he preferred spending time with Gruoch.  She was less emotional, and much more likely to think things through before reacting.

“Put these on,” Gruoch smiled as he entered his room.  “They were screaming your name as I walked past.  I couldn’t help myself.”

Harry nodded and pulled on the trousers, doing up the belt.  “Can I ask a favour?” he said, a little shyly.

“Of course,” Gruoch smiled.

“Can you do some shopping for me tomorrow?  The school uniform is just awful, and I’d really like to wear something a little more comfortable during the day.  I can pay.”

“Don’t you even think of offering to pay, Harry James Potter,” Gruoch said firmly.  “You are family.”

Harry nodded, “Thanks.”

“I suspect Pansy will want the same thing,” she smiled.  “So tell me, what’s Ginny like?”

Harry smiled and pulled on the shirt.  He paused as he arranged his thoughts.

“Unique,” he smiled.

Pansy knocked on the door to the training room, and yelled, “We’ll see you there!”

“Come on, girls,” she grinned.  “Let’s go have a great time.”

“Excitable, isn’t she,” Daphne smirked.

“Wouldn’t you be excited if you got to spend the evening dancing with his Dark Hotness?” Ginny asked.

“Absolutely,” Daphne smiled.

“So can Harry really dance?” Hermione asked.  “I read it in the Prophet, but you never know what’s true and what’s made up.”

Pansy smiled and twirled merrily.  “I spent a long time teaching him how to dance properly.  Once he realised that fighting and dancing are not that different, he took to it like he did to Quidditch.  It’s all about controlling your body and reacting to the other person.  He can dance like he fights, only without the deadly punches and kicks.”  She stopped, and faced Ginny and Daphne.  “While we’re at the party tonight, I’m sharing him with you.  So you’ll both get to dance and have a good time.  And don’t even think about complaining.  If it’s slightly his fault that you two don’t want anyone else, he can make it up to you by ensuring that you have a good time.”

Ginny frowned softly.  “I don’t know if I can,” she said quietly.

“I know,” Pansy said, walking up to her.  “But it’s the best way forward.  I know you’re still in love with him.  That’s not going to go away till he leaves school and isn’t a major part of your life day in and day out, so why not just enjoy it for now?”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Ginny whispered, shaking her head.

“You’re becoming family, Ginny,” Pansy said simply.

Ginny nodded and hugged Pansy hard.

“Now, enough maudlin talk,” Pansy demanded.  “Let’s go make some jaws drop.”

They walked into Gryffindor Common Room, the fat lady sniffing at the idea of two Slytherins entering.  Inside, the room was set up like a ball room.  A wireless was playing some music in the corner, and some of the normal carpet had been replaced by a dance area.

“Dobby’s just wonderful, isn’t he?” Ginny smiled.

“I really need to do something nice for him,” Pansy said with a frown.  “I know, I’ll hire Winky as my personal house elf.  That way, they can both be together all the time.”

“You really care about Dobby, don’t you?” Hermione asked.

“Absolutely.  He’s a good and loyal friend.”

Hermione nodded.  “Have you noticed that we’re the centre of attention?”

“I had,” Daphne said with a grin.  “I don’t think people expected us.”

“Actually,” Hermione corrected fastidiously.  “I don’t think that people expected us to look like this.”

“You’re quite right,” Daphne smirked.

Ron walked over to them, his eyes on Hermione.  “Wow,” he spluttered.

“Why thank you, you’re looking nice as well,” Hermione smiled.  She was wearing a dark blue dress that highlighted her eyes.  Her hair was pulled back in an elegant pony tail, just a few stands escaping to frame her face.

Ginny laughed softly, “You’re going to have to do the talking till the blood returns to my brother’s brain,” she smiled.  “And that looks like it might take a while.”  She was wearing a black cocktail dress that was a little shorter than normal, and showed off her legs.  Her hair had been blown dry like before, and fell over her shoulders like a wave of fire.

“Let’s get a drink,” Daphne suggested.  The elegant blonde was wearing a formal green dress with a high colour, and buttons down the front.  She had the top two buttons undone, hinting at her cleavage, but not actually showing it.

“Sounds like a plan,” Pansy smiled.  Of the four girls, she looked the best, and carried herself like she knew it.  The dress itself was one of her favourites, and was elegant simplicity.  It was made for dancing.  The pure white dress had a strap over each shoulder leading down to a tight bodice that offered support while showing off to the ultimate effect.  The dress fell to her hips, where it flared out to her knees.  She had finished the outfit with strappy white heels that should make her the same height as Harry.

She picked up a couple of bottles of Butterbeer, and passed them to her two companions.  “I hope Harry gets here soon,” she muttered.  “I think this party needs someone to get it started.”

“I think we made too much of an entrance,” Daphne mused.  “Some of them look a little intimidated.”

“Possi…” Pansy said, before trailing off into silence.

“Pansy?” Ginny asked, looking slightly concerned.

“Sweet Merlin On A Bike,” Daphne whispered, deliberately enunciating each word clearly.

Ginny turned and swallowed.  “I thought you left him some khaki trousers and a blue shirt?”

“He’s been to see Gruoch,” Daphne said.  “Damn, but he’s a clever one.”

“Why is Pansy in a daze?”

“Because Gruoch knows Pansy.  She had such a crush on a Muggle film star when she was young, from a movie.  She told me a few years ago that she watched it every day for a month.  It’s one of the reasons she worked so hard at learning to dance.  She wanted to be that actress.

Harry was wearing a simple, tight fitting, black shirt, with the top three buttons undone.  His hair had been tamed into something that looked stylish, and he had on tight black trousers and shoes.

The shirt sleeves had been rolled up, which emphasised his arm muscles.

“Hey,” he said, as he approached them, his eyes on Pansy.  “You look unbelievable, my angel,” he whispered to her.  “Dance with me?”

She nodded, and followed him to the centre of the new dance floor.

“That’s how you compliment a lady,” Ginny sighed.  “Sure, stunned into stupefaction is nice, but a real compliment is nicer.”

“Well,” Daphne said.  “Let’s get drunk and tell each other stories.”

Ginny smiled.  “Drunk on Butterbeer?”

“Of course not,” Daphne smiled.  “Pansy asked Dobby to charm some of the bottles of Butterbeer to have something a little more interesting inside it.  Take a sip.”

Ginny did, and blinked.  “What the hell is this?” she gasped.

Daphne laughed and took her sip as well.  “It’s called an Alco pop.  It’s a mixture of alcohol and fruit juice.

“It’s gorgeous,” Ginny sighed.  “How much alcohol?”

“Enough to get us completely drunk,” Daphne smiled.

“We should go easy on it then?”

“Sadly, yeah.  Otherwise we might think we can take Pansy.”

Ginny laughed.  “Nah, she’s not drinking.”

“So, are you nervous about tomorrow?”

“About meeting Pansy’s mum?”

“Yep.”

“A little.  I mean, I’ve heard so much about her that contradicts itself.  My parents don’t like her, but Harry obviously loves her.”

“Pansy’s a miniature version of Gruoch.  So if you just treat her like you treat Pansy, you’ll be fine.  Don’t be a mouse, and don’t be afraid of her.  She can’t stand people who don’t stand up for themselves.”

Ginny groaned.  “Great, I’ve got years of being shy behind me.  It’s still default behaviour.”

“Nah,” Daphne grinned.  “Pansy won’t let you.”  She paused, and turned to the dance floor and sighed.  “That’s the problem, Gin,” she said, quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Look at Dean and Parvati dance.”

The two in question were moving their arms a little as they bounced along to the beat.  Dean seemed to be spending as much time looking down at Parvati’s chest as her face, and they both look a little uncomfortable dancing.

“Looks pretty normal to me,” Ginny said.

“Right.  That’s the problem.  Now look at the white knight and grey queen.”

At the moment, Pansy had her arms above her head, and was twirling fast on the spot, Harry was crouched in front of her.  As the brunette stopped twirling, Harry slid up back up, and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close, as they danced around the floor, each step in perfect synchronisation.

As the music upped its tempo, Pansy jumped, spreading her legs almost in a forwards split, as she locked her arms against Harry, and he carried her around the dance floor.

He placed her on the floor, and dashed away from her, jumping and sliding on his knees.  He turned mid slide, so that he was looking at her, and slid to a halt.  With his eyes locked firmly on hers, he waited for the next song.

He smiled, as a regular Latin beat came out of the wireless in the corner.  He raised his hands up, jumped to his feet, and took two quick steps forward, clicking his heels on the floor.  He slid his arms down as he took another two quick steps.

The others who had been dancing had stopped now, and were gathered around in a circle, watching.

Pansy smiled softly, playing with her skirt, as if nervous, as Harry continued to prowl before her.

With a sharp staccato clap of his hands, Harry slid over in front of her, an intense look on his face.  He leaned in, as if to kiss her, but Pansy leaned backwards away from him.

Harry stood upright again, and then fell backwards, supporting himself on one arm as Pansy pushed him in the chest.  She took a similar two steps backward her heels making a similar noise on the wooden floor.  The move was a challenge and a declaration of independence as she twirled, her skirt flying out, before finishing in a pose that invited Harry to chase her.

He smirked at her, lowering himself to the ground, and lying on his side, his legs crossed.  As the music picked up, he slid his feet around, smoothly returning to his feet, and danced over to her, circling her as she stood still, as if he was admiring her from every angle.

Formally, Pansy held up her hands, as if agreeing to dance with him.  He moved closer to her, taking her hands in his, standing a little away from her.  With the music, they started simply, swaying back and forwards, small steps that showed how in tune with each other they were.  Harry moved into a cross body lead, turning around as Pansy followed him.

“That’s not dancing, that’s shagging standing up – with clothes on,” Ginny sighed.

“Exactly,” Daphne agreed.  “They’ve got a level of comfort with each other that teenagers don’t normally have.  It’s like watching two adults in a room full of kids.  Not just the fact that they’re both amazing dancers, it’s the confidence they have in both themselves and each other.”

As the dance ended, they both smiled at each other, ignoring the cheers from the other students, and they walked back over to Daphne and Ginny.

Ginny calmly handed Pansy a drink.

“Thanks,” she smiled.  “We’ve provided enough entertainment for now.”

“As long as for now isn’t long,” Harry smiled.

“Yes,” Pansy laughed.  “I know, you like dancing.  Now.  The first time I showed him he was so nervous.”

“Yes, thank you, honey,” Harry grinned.

“Well, as you’re obviously full of energy, take Ginny on to the dance floor.”

A look of surprise flickered across his face, followed by a look of concentration.  Ginny was suddenly hit with the idea that he was checking with Pansy mentally.  She turned her head, and watched as Pansy’s face flickered.

“So, fair maiden of the flame,” Harry grinned, bowing elegantly before her.  “May I have this dance?”

“You may,” Ginny said formally, and then ruined the effect by giggling.  “Maiden of the flame?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry smiled, as he puller her into his arm close, holding her a lot more loosely than he had Pansy.  “Flame haired maiden, while more accurate, isn’t quite as grand sounding.”

“You do know that I can’t dance, right?” Ginny asked.

“Just keep your eyes on mine, and relax,” Harry said.  “I’ll take you around slowly; you’ll be able to keep up.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“You have no idea how many times I made a fool of myself,” Harry smiled, as he started to move them both around the dance floor.

Ginny found herself following him automatically.  She had no idea how she was doing it, but soon she realised she was actually dancing.

“I was falling for Pansy at the time, and the idea of making a fool of myself in front of her wasn’t high on my list of things to do.”

“Where did you learn to dance?”

“In a field by Parkinson Manor, we’d go out to the lake there on Thunder and Lightning, our horses, and spent the afternoon and evening with Pansy teaching me how to dance.”

“Sounds romantic.”

“It was,” Harry agreed.  “We’d watch the sunlight slowly set over the hills, as we danced close.  I found myself lost in her eyes as she’d smile at me, and show me a new move.”

Ginny sighed softly, and moved closer, placing her head on his chest.  She wasn’t sure what she was doing at the moment.  Being this close to Harry and not having him was more than a little painful.  But on the other hand, it was fun, and she was having a good time.  She knew now that he would never betray Pansy.  And that she had been right, the only other thing she could do was cut him out of her life completely, but she couldn’t do that.  It wasn’t his fault he was in love with someone else.  It wasn’t anyone’s fault, it just was.  And she really didn’t want to lose his friendship.  It was to important to her, and she knew it was to him, as well.

She felt Harry tighten his arm around her, and she smiled slightly, and closed her eyes, just enjoying the moment.

After a few minutes, she heard an amused voice say, “Mind if I cut in?”

She looked up at Pansy, and stepped back automatically.

“Thanks,” Pansy grinned, and before Ginny knew it, she was being whirled around the dance floor by the brunette girl.

“How are you doing?” Pansy asked.

Ginny smiled up at Pansy, “Not bad, actually.  That was fun.”

“Good,” Pansy smiled.  “It may seem that I know what I’m doing with you and Daph, but I don’t.  I don’t want to cause you pain.”

“You’re not,” Ginny assured her.  “It was nice, and you know, I realised what you said was right.  It might not be the perfect answer, but it is the best.  You do know how much he loves you?”

Pansy nodded softly.  “I do,” she said simply.

Ginny looked around as they danced.  “We’re the centre of attention again,” she sighed.

“Girls don’t normally dance like this together,” Pansy said with a shrug.  “But don’t worry about it.  Their opinions don’t matter.  All that matters is that we’re having a good time and that we are open with each other.”

“How come you’re so wise?” Ginny asked.  She knew what Daphne had said earlier, but wanted to see Pansy’s opinion.  “Mum, and Dad.  I’ve been treated as a full adult at home for years.  It was hard at first, because I wasn’t an adult, but it helped me to grow up.  I wouldn’t have been able to get Harry if I hadn’t had that experience.

“He felt the same way.  My parents treated him as an adult from the get go, and you could almost see him realise how much he liked it, and how he decided that he would have to act like one to continue to be treated like that.”

Ginny nodded, “And how come I’m able to dance with you both, when normally I’m lucky to string two moves together?”

Pansy laughed and twirled her around.  “Because we both give you little signals of what we want you to do, and your body does as it’s told.”

“What did you say to Harry earlier, before he asked me to dance?”

“You caught that?” Pansy asked.

Ginny nodded.

“He asked if I was sure, and I told him not to be silly.  He wanted to dance with you, but was checking on me first.”

Ginny smiled, “What’s he doing now?”

“Dancing with Daphne,” she replied instantly.  “I think they’re talking about riding.”

“That mind thing has got to be really useful,” Ginny laughed.

“A little,” Pansy agreed.

They went silent as they continued to dance.  It was different from dancing with Harry, partly because of the differences in physiology.  Where as Harry was all hard muscle, Pansy was alternately hard and soft.  Harry had kept her to simple steps, but Pansy was making it a little more complicated, and she realised it was because Pansy was a more experienced dancer, and she felt like she was learning more just by doing it, than she would have by standard teaching.

As she had with Harry, she leaned her head on Pansy shoulder and closed her eyes, just enjoying the feeling of being perfectly graceful.

They danced for another hour, swapping partners randomly, before they stopped as Hermione turned off the wireless and turned the lights on.  “As it’s a birthday party, for Harry and Ginny, we’re got a few gifts to exchange.”  She pointed behind everyone to a corner.  “The house-elves have provided a bit of a feast for you, so if you’ll excuse us?”

Harry smiled, looking grateful, and Ginny realised that he still wasn’t that comfortable in large crowds.

They moved over to a corner, and sat down in comfortable seats.  Ron sat down unsteadily, looking like he’d been on a few too many of the Alco-pops.  Hermione sat next to him, looking a little disgruntled.

“Here, Ginny,” Harry said, handing her a small package.  “This is from both of us.”

Ginny opened the package, tearing the paper, wanting to see what it was.  She looked down as a heavy weight dropped into her lap, and picked it up.  It was a red and gold necklace, that was simply stunning, and she gasped with pleasure, examining it closely.  The strains of red seemed to pulse in the light, as they danced over the gold.

“Thank you,” she cried, throwing herself at Pansy, then at Harry, hugging them both tight.

For some reason, Ron was frowning, but she ignored it.

“And this is from me,” Daphne smiled, handing her a slightly larger package.

“You didn’t have to,” Ginny smiled.

“But I wanted to,” Daphne said with a shrug.  “I had to get it owled in,” she admitted with a grin.

Ginny tore off the wrapping paper, and opened the box.  It contained a matching brooch for the necklace.  “Thank you,” she squealed, throwing herself at Daphne for a hug as well.

“You’re welcome,” Daphne whispered.

This time, Ron didn’t seem so upset, which was confusing to say the least.  They were both obviously expensive presents, so that wasn’t what was bothering him.

She reached down to the side of her chair, and pulled out her present for Harry.  With a smile, she lobbed it at him.

“Thanks,” Harry grinned, and following her example, he tore the wrapping off.

She was a little nervous about the present, not least because of Pansy’s reaction.  She’d wanted to do something different for him, so she’d done a little work for the Twins testing products, to get some money.

He opened it up, and his face broke into a wide smile.  He shifted, and pulled out the ring, putting it on his right hand.  He showed it off to Pansy.

“Very nice,” Pansy said admiringly.  “You’ve got good taste, Gin,” she praised.

Harry stood and moved over to her, showing her how the solid silver Celtic Knot band looking on his finger.  He then moved closer and pulled her up, into a huge hug.  “Thanks, Ginny,” he said softly.

“You’re welcome,” she said, suddenly really happy.

After a few more presents, from Ron and Hermione to Harry, Pansy said, “So, let’s get this party going again.  Why don’t the birthday boy and girl have a dance?”

“Come on, Gin,” Harry grinned, grabbing her hand enthusiastically.

As they started, Ginny realised he had relaxed a little, a combination of his good mood and the alcohol he had imbibed.  He danced her around the dance floor gracefully.  As before, she simply didn’t think about what she was doing, and let him guide her around.  She trusted him, completely.

The others in the party seemed to watch them for a minute, before everyone started dancing again, and Harry slowed them, so that they were dancing on the spot.

“Happy birthday, Ginny,” he said gently, and kissed her briefly on the lips.

“Harry birthday, Harry,” she echoed, and placed her head on his chest.

She danced with Pansy again next, before returning the girl to her partner, and making her way over to the corner, where Ron and Hermione were sitting.

She wondered if Harry had danced with Hermione yet, but realised her brother might not take that too well.

“What on earth are you doing?” Ron asked.

“Huh?” Ginny replied, helping herself to an ordinary Butterbeer.  She’d had a couple of the alcoholic drinks, and stopped as soon as she felt herself start to get a little drunk.

“Dancing like that with her.”

“What do you mean?” Ginny asked, more than a little confused.

“You should be with Harry,” Ron said.

“I did dance with Harry,” Ginny said slowly, realising her brother was slightly more drunk than she had presumed.

“And that was right,” Ron agreed.  “But then you danced with her the same way.  You shouldn’t be doing that; you should be winning Harry off her.”

“You mean Pansy?” Ginny asked, her voice going cold.

“Yeah, her.  The one who stole Harry.”

“Pansy did not steal Harry,” Ginny replied, placing her hands on her hips.  “And Pansy is my friend; why shouldn’t I dance like that?”

“Because people are talking,” Ron said loudly.  “It’s not right, you dancing with a girl like that.”

“Ron, stop it,” Hermione said.

“No,” Ron said mulishly.  “You were danshing like you were in love with her.”

“Grow up, Ron,” Ginny said, feeling herself start to lose her temper as her brother tried to ruin what had been one of her best nights.

“She’s just buying your friendship with expensive presents, while she flaunts Harry in front of you,” Ron slurred.

“I’m not for sale, Ron.  You have no idea what you are talking about,” Ginny retorted furiously.  “Pansy’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.  She has no need to buy anyone’s attentions.  If she feels something for you, you know it.”

“Oh,” Ron said with a sneer.  “So what, are you in love with her too?  She’s your bloody rival.”

“She is not my rival,” Ginny shouted.  “She’s my best friend.”

“Is that why you were dancing like a slut with her? Mum was right, you are a scarlet woman.”

“Ronald Bilious Weasley,” Hermione exclaimed.  “If you don’t stop this right now, we are through.”

“Not now, Hermione,” Ron said, obviously not listening to her.  “Girls don’t dance like that.  So what, you kiss Harry, and then kiss her?”

“I’ve never kissed Pansy,” Ginny said, her hands now on her hips.  “And it wouldn’t matter if I did.  We’re friends, obviously a concept you can’t bloody understand.”

“Just wait till I tell mum you’re a bloody lesbian slut,” Ron slurred.

“Is that what you bloody think?” Ginny shouted.  She turned, to see that Pansy and Harry were glaring at Ron, both looking furious.  “Then if you’re going to tell mum, you may as well tell her about something that did happen.”

She stalked over to Pansy, grabbed her, pulled her head down and kissed her as hard as she could.  She was so furious with her brother she didn’t even think about what she was doing, and she kissed her like she had kissed Michael Corner, her tongue sliding between the other girl’s still lips.  She absently realised that Pansy tasted very different before she froze.

She pulled back, and looked up at the shocked face of Harry, her brother, Daphne, Hermione, everyone who had heard the argument.

She realised just what she had done, and felt tears running down her face.  She had just been goaded into ending a friendship that had existed only for four days, but still meant the world to her.

“Oh no,” she whispered.  “I’m so sorry.” She turned, and ran out of the door, having no idea where she was going, just wanting to get away.

Harry looked at the thoughtful expression of his girlfriend, as she watched the girl run out.  “Harry, deal with your friend,” she commanded, and ran off after Ginny.

He was pretty sure that whatever happened, Pansy would fix it.

He turned back to look at Ron, and resisted the urge to break his jaw.  “Party’s over,” he snarled.  “Everyone to their own dorm rooms, now!”

The room emptied of people faster than would have been thought possible, leaving only Ron, Daphne, and Hermione with him.

“I was planning on finishing this evening by asking Pansy to marry me,” he growled at Ron.  “Instead, my girlfriend is comforting the girl whose evening you just ruined.”

He took a deep breath, trying to reign in his temper.  Ron had systematically managed to insult Pansy, Ginny, and him, in an amazingly quick time.  He looked at Hermione and Daphne. “Daph, take Hermione back to our rooms, talk to her.”

Daphne nodded, and grabbed the protesting Hermione by her hands and took her away.  If anyone would be able to save Ron and Hermione’s relationship it would be her.  He suspected that Pansy would be as likely to persuade Hermione to dump Ron immediately, as not.

He marched over to a window and opened it, calling for his broom.  He grabbed Ron, completely ignoring his spluttering, and carried him over to the broom.  He roughly dumped Ron over it, and flew out the window.

As he reached the middle of the lake, he pushed Ron off, and let him fall – with a loud wail – into the water twenty foot below.  The temptation to drop him from higher had been immense.  And barely resisted.

He circled a few times, watching as Ron tried to keep afloat.

Eventually, he swooped down, and grabbed Ron’s outstretched arm, dragging him through the water, till they reached the edge and he dropped the boy onto the grass.

Ron coughed, repeatedly, and spat out a mouthful of water.

Harry got off his broom, and walked and sat down, his back against a tree.

Ron walked over and sat opposite him.  “I really mucked up, didn’t I?”

“Yup.”

“Ginny’s going to hate me, isn’t she?”

“Yup.”

“Hermione, too?”

“Yup.”

“Pansy?”

“You hurt one of her family.  You know what she did to Umbridge.”

“You?”

“Right now I’m restraining the urge to ensure you don’t say anything for some time, by breaking your jaw.”

Ron sighed and went silent, looking up at the stars.

“You and Ginny looked so good when you danced, like you were meant to be together.”

“Better than me and Pansy?”

Ron went silent, and Harry nodded once, his point made.

“I just didn’t think that she should be dancing that close with another girl.”

“Did you feel that way when Pansy and Daphne were dancing?”

“This was my sister.”

“Who was having a good time dancing with a friend.  A friend, who happens to my future wife.”

“She looked happy.”

“And why shouldn’t she?  It was her birthday party, and Pansy was trying to make sure that she had a damn good time.”

“It just all came together,” Ron sighed.  “And I had a few too many to drink.”

“That’s not an excuse.  We all made our own decisions not to get to drunk – apart from you.”

“I know.”

“What I find most annoying, was that you ignored the fact that I have told you that I love Pansy - that I am planning on marrying her.  Just how exactly is Ginny supposed to ‘win’ me from her?  It has very little to do with her, and everything to do with me and Pansy.  Do you really think so little of me, that I’d dump someone I loved for someone else?  Do you think that I don’t know Pansy inside out?  I’ve been inside her mind, I’ve seen what makes her tick, and I’ve seen both sides of her.  I’m not going to leave Pansy, or lose Pansy, no matter what.  She is the most important person in the world to me, more so than anyone else.  So bloody get it into your thick skull that I will never leave Pansy, and that Ginny and I will never bloody happen.”

“But…”

“No bloody buts, Ron,” Harry shouted, finally.  “It’s got absolutely bloody nothing to do with you at all.  Ginny can make her own decisions, and you can be as sure as hell that I can make mine, and Pansy can make hers.”

“I was jealous,” Ron said softly.

“Of Ginny?” Harry asked, confused.

“No, of you,” he admitted.  “You can dance, you’ve got at least two girls in love with you, probably three, and you’re so impossibly perfect, not even looking at the others, unless Pansy tells you too.”

“So why didn’t you do something about it?  We told you when we would be running in the morning to get fit.  Why didn’t you ask for dancing lessons?”

Ron was silent.

“Because it was much easier to just sit at the back and be jealous, right?”  Harry sighed forcefully.  “This is real life, Ron.  If you want something, you have to work for it yourself, it’s not handed to you on a plate.”

“It is for you.”

“Handed on a plate,” Harry said icily, “implies that there is nothing to pay.  I’ve paid and paid and paid and continue to pay a lot more than you can ever know.  But let’s put it in terms you can understand.  My girlfriend is rich, no doubt about it.  Yours is the smartest witch of our generation.  Can you see Hermione not being a success at whatever she does?  Because I can’t.

“I’m rich,” Harry continued.  “But I happen to know that your parents have a massive life insurance policy.  So, you want them dead so you can collect on it?”

“No!” Ron yelled.  “That’s sick.”

“Oh,” Harry scowled.  “So it’s okay for me to be rich because my parents were murdered, but for you to get rich because your parents die?”  He took a deep breath.  “I’ve got two girls in love with me.   I didn’t ask for that, and it’s not something I like – it complicated things tremendously.  Especially as I care for Ginny a lot, but I am in love with Pansy, and I don’t like seeing Ginny hurt.  It’s something I have to deal with, and something that Pansy has to deal with, and I know she’d much rather send Ginny away, but she’s being as open as she can for me.  Before wishing you had something that hurts us both, I’d concentrate on getting one girl to love you, and not by telling her, “Not now,” when she’s trying to stop you from doing something incredibly stupid.”

Harry climbed to his feet, and threw his broom at Ron.  “Go back to the tower, Ron.  Go back and take a shower, then go to bed.  Stay the hell away from us tomorrow, and bloody well think about who you are and what you are becoming.  We’ll see you Sunday.”

“What about you?”

“I’m in too much of a bad mood to see anyone at the moment,” Harry growled.  “I’m going to see Aragog.”

”You’re doing what?”

“Going to see the spiders, Ron.  So unless you want to join me, I’d go back to the tower.  I’ll be fine, I can get away if I get in any trouble.”

Ron nodded and mounted the broom.  “I am sorry,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Harry sighed, and watched as Ron flew back to the Tower, climbing into the window.

With a shrug, he walked straight into the Forbidden Forest, breathing deeply.  It didn’t take him long to stumble across some of Aragog’s children, and as before, he let the spiders carry him to the giant spider.

“I can smell you,” Aragog as he crawled out of his burrow.  “You’re back, are you?”

“I am,” Harry said, freeing himself from the spiders effortlessly.  “I’d say it’s good to see you, but you’re looking awful.”

Aragog turned his eight milky eyes on to Harry.

“Honesty, human, could be seen as an insult.”

Harry shrugged.  “If you choose to take it that way.”

“You’re very different.  Why are you not scared?”

“Because you’ll be dead before the order to attack is finished,” Harry said casually.

“Really?” Aragog asked, sounding curious.

Harry moved, his hand dipping into his pocket, flicking off the catch on his knife holster, and pulling it out.  He threw it hard, narrowly missing Aragog’s head, embedding it in a tree.

Aragog turned and sniffed the handle.

“Accio knife,” Harry said calmly, and watched as the blade spun toward him.  Carefully timing his movement, he reached out and caught it by the handle, placing it back in the hidden holster.

“Hagrid is the only human not afraid of me.”

“Now there are two,” Harry said with a slight smile.  “But I’m here for a reason.  The snake man is going to be fought soon.  I want your help, as a thank you from you.”

“Thank you for what?”

“Killing your mortal foe,” Harry said calmly.

“Ahh,” Aragog said.  “I wondered when you would come to claim that.  It is yours.  The snake man will make more, if not stopped.  My children do not like him.”

“Can you travel?”

“We are spiders, human.  We can move like the wind.  What is it you require?”

“Fighters on the field, and disposal of remains.”

Aragog perked up.  “You want us to take away the dead?”

Harry smiled faintly.  “The dead in black, yes.  They may as well have use in death that they haven’t had in life.”

“Humans don’t normally care for our eating habits.”

“I’m far from normal,” Harry said.

Aragog looked around slowly.  “What say you, my children?” he asked.

There was a sound of clicking from around the hollow.

Aragog laughed briefly.  “Some of my children want to eat you.”

“They’re welcome to try,” Harry said coldly.

“But they won’t,” Aragog continued.  “They can see the danger in you, and are warned, snake-killer.  They will fight for you, and they will take away the dead – just the black ones.  Simply send word when you are ready.”

“I consider your debt paid,” Harry said, with a bow.

Aragog clicked thoughtfully.  “You may visit me again.  I find it nice to occasionally talk to intelligent humans.”

“I will bring my mate to see you.”

“Your mate will come?” Aragog asked.

“My mate is as brave as I am, and will be displeased that I came to see you without telling her beforehand.”

Aragog laughed, a dry crackling sound, as if he hadn’t done so for many years.  “That is the way with mates,” he agreed.  “But they are worth their weight in gold.”

Harry nodded in agreement.  “Thank you for your time.”

“You are welcome.  Hold out your hand.”

Harry did so, and Aragog moved over to him, lowered his head, and his pinchers shot out, nipping the skin.

“You have the Mark of the Spiders,” Aragog said formally.  “You speak with my voice.”

Harry went down on one knee and bowed formally.  “An authority I will not abuse.”

“Of course you won’t,” Aragog agreed.  “It was good speaking to you, human.”

“Harry.”

“Harry,” Aragog said thoughtfully.  “I shall not forget.  Farewell.”

Harry smiled, and turned on his heel, walking out of the forest.  He thought briefly, and entered the other place, returning outside the Room of Requirement.

He entered, to find that Ginny, Pansy, Daphne, and Hermione, were all wearing thick dressing gowns and thick socks.  They were sat close to the fire, cooking marshmallows on sticks.

“Come and sit down, love,” Pansy said gently to him.

He nodded and walked over to them, kicking his shoes off.

“You’re cold,” Pansy said, sounding a little worried.  She started to rub his arms, pulling him down to the floor.

“Harry?” Hermione asked.  “What’s on your hand?”

Harry looked at it, and stretched out, his feet toward the fire.  “The Mark of the Spiders.”

“You went and saw Aragog?” Pansy asked.

“Yeah, after dealing with Ron.”

“What happened?” Hermione asked.

“Well, I put Ron…”

“Not Ron,” Hermione said firmly.  “With Aragog?”

“We had a chat, we threatened each other, we came to an agreement, and he gave me the mark.”

Hermione sighed and smiled at Pansy.  “Can you please get some more out of him.”

Pansy laughed and poked Harry in the ribs.  “More details, please.”

“A kiss would help,” he grinned at Pansy.

“Fine, be that way,” Hermione sighed and got to her feet.  She took a few steps forward and dropped on his lap.

Harry gaped at her.

She gave him a chaste peck on the lips, and then went back to her spot, looking smug.

Next to him, Pansy was laughing so hard he thought she might hurt herself.  “You asked for that,” she chortled.

He laughed softly, a little embarrassed.  “It was aimed at you.”

“I know,” she giggled, and gave him a quick, but much more intense, kiss.  “Now, tell the nice lady what she wants to know.”

Harry nodded, and recited everything pretty much word for word.

“I’m going to have to do some research tomorrow to find out what this Mark of the Spiders is,” Hermione said as he finished.  “It sounds like it’s a good thing.”

Harry nodded in agreement.  He stretched out further, lying fully out, propping his head up on the edge of the chair.

“Okay,” Ginny said quietly.  “What did you do with my idiot brother?”

“I flew him out to the centre of the lake, and dumped him in it.  I let him struggle for a few minutes, before I dragged him through the water to the shore.”

“An effective cure for being drunk,” Daphne said with an audible smirk.

“He seemed pretty sober by then,” Harry agreed.  “I was fighting the urge not to break his jaw.”  He felt Pansy slide closer to him, and take his hand, placing it on her leg, and covering it with her own.

“We had a long talk, where I basically told him to grow up, and to not come near any of us tomorrow.  He knows what he’s done, and he knows his reasons were stupid.  I think he needs sometime to think it all over.  I’m suspending judgement till then, and I can listen to what he has to say.”

There was silence around the room, except for the popping of the fire.

“Harry?” Ginny said in a small voice.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry, for, you know, ruining tonight.”

Harry sat up, and looked at the red haired girl.  She looked a little lost in one of Pansy’s robes.  “Come here,” he told her.

Nervously, she climbed to her feet and walked over to him.  He reached out as she got near, and grabbed her hand, pulling her down.  “You didn’t ruin anything,” he said firmly, and hugged her tightly.

He felt her crying on him, and stroked her back reassuringly.  “It’s okay,” he whispered.

He reached out with his mind, and lightly touched Pansy’s.  A second later, he felt her arms wrap around them both, in a three way hug.

As he felt her stop crying, he shifted to the left, making space between Pansy and himself, and placed her in it, so that she was surrounded by them.

“I still owe you a dance,” he said to Hermione.

She laughed and nodded.  “Absolutely.  I want to see if you can make me look as graceful as Ginny.”

“Harry could make Millicent Bulstrode look graceful,” Pansy grinned.

“Ewww!” Harry complained.  “I’m not dancing with her.”

The others laughed, and they settled into a relaxing conversation, just laughing and joking.  The ring Harry wanted to give Pansy, stayed in his pocket.

“Morning,” Harry said, as he joined Ginny and Pansy outside the Great Hall.  He’d had a quick run to wake himself up, and was now pretty hungry.

“Ginny,” Pansy said, “You’re walking between us, don’t react to anyone or anything.  Leave that to us.”

“Okay,” Ginny nodded.

“And raise your head; you’ve not done anything to be ashamed off.”

Ginny nodded again, and raised her head proudly.

Harry pushed the doors open, and they walked in.  He looked around, and was a little surprised that Draco wasn’t sitting at the Slytherin table.  As he walked, he heard Zacharias Smith say something to his colleague, and they both laughed.

Harry veered off, Malcom’s advice firmly in his mind.

“Is there a problem here?” he asked icily, channelling some of Snape at his most intimidating.

“N-n-n-no,” Zach stuttered.

“I do so hope that no one is talking about me, Pansy, or Ginny behind our backs,” he whispered, letting his magic flare up around him as he leaned forwards.  “I’d be very upset if people thought that it would be fun to say things they wouldn’t say to our faces.”

“No-no-no one is talking,” a clearly terrified Zach assured Harry.

“Good,” Harry said, standing straight and looking around the Hall.

He bought his magic back under control, and went and sat down with the others.

“Good acting,” Hermione whispered.

“You could tell?” Harry asked.

“Guessed,” Hermione replied.  “Pansy confirmed it.”

Harry nodded and sat down, Dobby appearing a second later with some cereal for the girls, and a full cooked breakfast for him.

”Dobby,” Harry said.

“Yes, Harry Potter sir?”

“Could you take Ron some breakfast?”

Dobby sighed, “Dobby is not being happy with the Stupidest Wheezy.  Harry’s Wheezy hurt Harry Potter sir, and all sirs friends.”

“We’re not either,” Hermione said to the elf.  “But we want him to think about what he has done, to see if he can make it better.  We don’t want him to be hungry while he is thinking.”

Dobby nodded slowly.  “Dobby will be making an average breakfast.  The Stupidest Wheezy is not deserving a full breakfast.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said with a smile.

Dobby nodded and vanished with a pop.

“Harry,” Pansy said.  “I’ve been thinking, so that Dobby and Winky can be together, I’m going to offer Winky a job as my personal house elf.”

“That’s a great idea,” Harry said with a smile.  “Why not do it now?”

“Winky?” Pansy said, clicking her fingers.

The red-nosed elf appeared in a flash, looking scared at Pansy.

“Mistress be calling Winky?” she asked.

Pansy nodded, and slid down to her knees in front of the elf.  “I know you’re not happy being a Hogwarts elf,” she said gently.  “And I was thinking as Harry has Dobby as a house-elf, you might like to be my personal house-elf.”

Winky blinked.  Repeatedly.  Her brown eyes going impossibly wide.  “Mistress is being serious?”

Pansy nodded.  “There are a few little conditions.  I’ve got to pay you something, although not as much as Dobby – and you’ll have the same time off, and you’ll have to wear some decent clothes.”

“Winky will be like Dobby?” Winky asked.

Pansy nodded.  “So, do you accept?  Will you become my house-elf?”

Winky burst into tears, and nodded hard.  “Winky will love to be working for Mistress Park’son.”

“Excellent,” Pansy smiled.  “Why don’t you go tell Dobby.”

“Mistress approves of Dobby and Winky being – being – together?”

Pansy nodded.  “Absolutely.”

Winky burst into a huge smile, and vanished with a pop.

“Five, four, three,” Harry started to count down.  “Two, one.”

As he finished, Dobby appeared, his eyes wide.  “Did Harry Potter sir and Pansy Park’son ma’am really be hiring Winky?  Let Dobby and Winky be courting, live together?”

“We can’t have you and Winky in different places, can we?”

Dobby shook head.  “Dobby is being the happiest elf in world,” he said simply, and vanished.

Hermione sighed.  “I don’t like feeling stupid,” she said with a rueful grin.  “I should have done more research with the elves.”

“We all make mistakes,” Pansy said.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“More importantly,” Daphne interrupted, “Malcom’s been busy.”  She handed over the copy of the Prophet she was reading.

Harry skimmed it, and smiled.  “I’m glad something went to plan last night,” he grinned cheerfully.  “The press are calling it a daring move, showing Fudge’s decisive role in fighting Voldemort.  I swear, these reporters are so far up Fudge’s arse, all you can see is are pairs of feet sticking out and wiggling.”

“Harry, I’m eating here,” Pansy complained.

“Sorry,” Harry said unrepentantly.  “Still, we’ll see how much they like Fudge when we expose him.  I’ll talk to Remus later, to discuss when we should announce that he is running against Fudge.”

“I’m going to spend the day in the Library,” Hermione said cheerfully.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Pansy asked.

“Quite sure,” Hermione said with a faint hint of sadness.  “I need to spend some time alone today, and doing some research is the best way I can do it.”

Pansy nodded, and then smiled as an owl swooped down in front of her, offering its leg.  She grabbed it, and read the note briefly.  “It’s the Portkey for today,” she told Daphne and Ginny.

“I’m going to meet Malcom at his office,” Harry said, as he finished his breakfast and checked his watch.  “And I’m due there in a few minutes.  I’ll see you later.”  He softly kissed Pansy, smiled at the others, and walked out of the Hall

As soon as he was out of sight, he moved to the other place, and transferred to Malcom’s office.

“Morning,” he said, as he came out of the other place and dropped into the chair.

“Are you feeling cursed?” Malcom asked with a slight grin.

“That I can’t seem to find the right moment to propose? More than a little.”

Malcom nodded.  “Well, we’ve got a busy day today.  I’ve got some people for you to meet, that we’ll need on our side to get Remus in power.  Remus is coming along later.  How did Nympy do as a Professor?”

“Pretty well, she was a little nervous, but she soon got over that.  Draco proved useful and insulted her.  She lost her temper and used him for demonstration purposes for the next hour.  She went through a lot of the stuff that Pansy and I already knew, so we spent the time having a mental conversation while looking like we were paying attention.”

“That’s going to be pretty useful.”

“It was,” Harry smiled.  “Pansy hired Dobby’s girlfriend this morning.”

”Good idea,”

Harry nodded.  “Dobby was happy.  I see the Wizengamot voted their approval of our Fair Treatment for All Creatures act.”

“It was a close run thing, but we managed to swing it with Amelia putting her weight behind it.  Dumbledore voted for it, but he seemed very surprised, and tried to talk to Fudge afterwards.  I had Fudge whisked away as soon as the vote was done.”

“How is Fudge?”

“Convinced that he will be re-elected.”

“What about Lucius Malfoy?”

“He now knows that I am involved, but doesn’t know why.  He’s very wary to move against me with Voldemort, because it would decimate a lot of his pure blood support, and he knows he needs them to get anywhere at all.”

Harry stretched out.  “How’s Croaker?”

“We’re going to see him later today, he’s got a few friends together who want a word with you.  He thinks that they might help, if they feel they can trust you.”

“So I’ve got a busy day,” he smiled.

“Yep.  Did you bother to tell Dumbledore where you were going?”

“Nope, must have slipped my mind.”

“Hmmm.  What about Pansy, Daphne, and Ginny?”

“I think they might have forgotten, too” Harry said innocently.

Malcom chuckled to himself.  “Ready?”

Pansy took hold of Ginny’s arm, and told Daphne to take the other side.  “Ready?” she asked.

“Yep,” Daphne required.

Pansy flicked the cigarette lighter, and they vanished, pulled through space till they reached Parkinson Manor.

“Pansy!” Gruoch said happily, and hugged her daughter, and then hugged Daphne.  “It’s good to see you again, Daph.”

“Thanks, Mrs P,” Daphne said with a smile.

“Mum, this is Ginny,” Pansy said, pulling the girl forward.  “Ginny, this is Gruoch Parkinson, my mother.”

“Hi,” Ginny said, a little shyly.

Gruoch stuck out her hand and shook Ginny’s.  “It’s nice to meet you,” she said with a smile.  “So, are you three ready for some serious shopping?”

“Absolutely,” Pansy said excitedly.  “We need some new uniforms for the three of us, and Ginny needs a haircut as well.”

“Her appointment is at three,” Gruoch interrupted.  “And we need to get Harry a new uniform as well.”

“Ohh, that reminds me,” Pansy said, as she walked forwards and gave her mother a huge hug.  “He looked gorgeous, thank you.”

“I told him that you’d fall in love with him all over again.”

“I think I did,” Pansy smiled.  “Now let’s go shopping.”

“Where are we going?”

“London, dahling,” Gruoch said in a vapid voice.  “Come on, the car’s waiting outside.”

“We’re going in a car?” Ginny asked, a little hesitantly.

“Not just any car,” Gruoch said, putting an arm around the smaller girl.  “This is our family car.  It changes shape and make on command.”

Ginny walked with her, her eyes wide as she looked at the Mercedes S class waiting outside.

“Right,” Gruoch said cheerfully.  “I think we’re done, and that we could do with a drink.”

“Yeah,” Pansy agreed as she put the last of the bags inside the boot of the car.  “Where?”

“The Leaky Cauldron,” Gruoch replied.  They got in the car, and she drove them through the tight streets of London, to the NCP car park nearby, and they walked to the pub.

“Okay,” Ginny said as they entered.  “What’s everyone having?”  Her expression dared them to argue with her buying everyone a drink.

“I’ll have a coffee,” Gruoch said calmly.

“Butterbeer for me,” Daphne said.

“Me too,” Pansy added with a smile.

Ginny nodded and bounced off to the bar.

“Okay, I can see why you like her,” Gruoch announced.

“Harry said I could keep her,” Pansy replied with a grin.  “And that’s what I intend to do.”

Gruoch smiled and lounged back in the chair.  “The hair cut suits her.”

“I thought it would,” Pansy said smugly.

Ginny returned with a tray, and handed out the drinks.

She opened her mouth, but closed it again as she heard screams from outside.

“Death Eaters!”

“Oh shit,” Pansy swore, looking around.

Gruoch walked to the window, looking out.

“There’s only six of them,” she said with a sigh.  “If the bloody sheep weren’t running away, they’d be able to take them.”

“Shall we?” Pansy asked, a smirk on her face.

Gruoch looked at the three girls, who all had their wands out.  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Someone is probably already notifying the Ministry,” Pansy said with a shrug.  “As soon as Dad hears about it, Harry will.  And he’ll be here immediately.”

“Come on then, and for Merlin’s sake, don’t get hit!”

They walked out of the door, avoiding the normal wizards and witches who were running.

“Stupefy ,” Gruoch cast at one of them, opening the battle.

“What do we have here?” One of the five remaining Death Eaters said with a smirk.  “Gruoch Parkinson.”

“Wow, that was almost a full sentence, Nott,” Gruoch replied.  “I’m impressed.  I thought you could only grunt.”

“Our Dark Lord will reward me well for you and your brats.”

Gruoch sighed audibly, and hid a smile as she heard Ginny cast the Bat-Bogey hex next to her.

That was the signal for the battle to start for real.

“Death Eaters! Death Eaters at Diagon Alley,” a panicked voice shouted, as he ran past.

“Here,” Malcom said, handing over two keys.  “Portkeys to Parkinson Manor.”

“Get the Aurors” Harry said, vanishing into the other place, leaving the meeting with Remus he was in.

He appeared in between three of the remaining Death Eaters.  “Hey boys,” he said, grabbing their attention.

“Potter!” Nott said.  “This day just gets better and better!”

“Yeah, about that,” Harry said.  He jumped forwards, his foot flying upward and inward in a crescent kick as he caught one of the Death Eaters directly on the chin.  His right hand flew out, a powerful stunning charm hitting one of the others.

He approached Nott, dodging the curses the Death Eater threw at him without really trying.  A single punch to the face rendered him unconscious.

“Gruoch,” he snapped.  “How secure are your dungeons?”

“Very.  Unplottable, with anti-apparition barriers.

Harry nodded and looked around.  “Are you all okay?”

“Ginny’s a little hurt,” Pansy said.  “She jumped in front of a curse aimed at me.”

Harry nodded.  “Right.  Take Nott to the dungeon,” he said, handing Gruoch one of the Portkeys.  “As soon as the Aurors show up, I’ll get Peirce to look at Ginny.”

“I’m fine,” Ginny said quietly.  “It’s just a scratch.”

Harry walked up to her, and looked at her pale face.  “You’re family, Ginny.  Family comes first,” he said firmly.

“Come on,” Pansy said, taking her by the shoulders.  She walked over with Ginny to Gruoch, and they disappeared with Daphne and Nott.

Harry looked around, and smiled as he saw one of the Death Eaters lying unconscious, giant green bats still flying around his face.

With a series of pops, the Aurors, and Malcom arrived.

“What the hell took you so long?” Harry snarled at the Aurors.  “Exactly how long does it take to Apparate here?”

“We didn’t hear about it till a few minutes ago,” Kingsley Shacklebolt said.  “And a lot of Aurors don’t work Saturdays.”

Harry blinked, and shook his head.  “Are you seriously telling me that half the police force doesn’t work weekends, in the middle of a bloody war?”

There was some shuffling of feet.

“Right,” Harry said.  “Malcom, I want a full meeting with the Aurors tomorrow.  Get Croaker there as well.  For now, take this scum to the Ministry, and lock them in the dungeons.  And if Lucius Malfoy comes within one hundred metres of them, I want him stunned and arrested.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” One of the Aurors said, pointing his wand at Harry.  “I don’t take orders from a schoolboy.”

Harry growled, these people were delaying him from getting to the doctor.  He moved, as fast as he could, and disarmed the Auror, sending him flying to the ground.  “I’m the person who just took out three Death Eaters before you even got here – and I was in the Ministry as well.”

“You heard what he said,” Malcom said, coming to the fore.

“Malcom, when you get back, can you first get Fudge out of bed, tell him what is going on, and what I’ve said.”

“Will do, Harry.”

Harry nodded and vanished, finding Pierce’s small cottage instantly.  The doctor was already packing his bags.  “Gruoch floo’d me,” he explained.

Harry passed him the Portkey, and said, “I’ll be there later, I need to check what’s going on.”

He vanished into the other place, and went to the Ministry.  He didn’t trust the Aurors, and while he was worried about Ginny and Pansy, he knew they could look after themselves.  He followed slowly as some of the Aurors took the Death Eaters down to the bottom of the Ministry.  He was more than slightly annoyed at himself for breaking his cover like that, but wasn’t too concerned.  It wouldn’t tell Voldemort much that Draco hadn’t probably already told him.

As he watched, two Aurors took one of the Death Eaters to one side, and cast a spell on him that woke him up.  Harry moved to the corner of the room and appeared from the Other Place as still as he could, hoping they wouldn’t see him.

“…then bloody Potter showed up, and the next thing I know is you two wake me up.”

“You better get out of here fast,” one of the Aurors said, holding out something in his hand.

“I don’t think so,” Harry snarled.  “If there’s one thing I hate, it’s people who betray the trust of others.  Stupefy !”  He was perhaps a little enthusiastic in his curse, as all three slammed against the wall, before collapsing into unconsciousness.

He stormed out of the door, to check the other Death Eaters.  They were all being restrained properly.

“Get Shacklebolt down here,” he ordered a passing Auror.  “On the double.”

“Yes, sir,” the Auror shouted, saluting instantly, before running off.

Harry prowled in front of the dungeons, aware he was giving off large amounts of magical energy and not caring in the least.

The bald-headed Auror appeared a few seconds later.  “What’s up, Harry?”

Harry threw open the door, to show the Death Eater and the two Aurors lying on the floor.  “They were trying to help him escape,” he said with a scowl.

Kingsley shook his head, and slammed the door shut.  “Are you serious about what you said a few minutes earlier?”

“About making sure the Aurors are under someone I trust?  Damn right.”

Kingsley smiled suddenly.  “It’s about bloody time!”

Harry smiled suddenly.  “I’ve got Nott locked up,” he whispered to Shacklebolt.  “I’ll bring him along to the Order meeting tonight.”

“There isn’t an Order meeting tonight,” Kingsley said with a frown.

“There will be as soon as Dumbledore realises what happened.”

Kingsley nodded.  “Should I ask how you got past the anti-Apparition wards?”

Harry shook his head.  “Let’s just say that I don’t like to follow all the rules, as Voldemort will soon find out.”

Shacklebolt nodded.

“And don’t tell Dumbledore anything about me at all,” he finished, and vanished.

“Fudge,” Malcom said into the fireplace.  “Six Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley earlier.  My wife, daughter, and two of their friends held them up, till Harry could arrive.  The Death Eaters are now all incarcerated downstairs and Harry is rather upset.”

“So?” Fudge asked, looking rather confused.  “What does that matter?”

“Ahh,” Malcom said.  “I knew I forgot to tell you something.  I work for Harry.”

Fudge changed several interesting shades of pale.  “But Potter hates me.”

“No, he thinks you’re an incompetent baboon,” Malcom corrected.  “But he also thinks that you are better than a Death Eater.”

“Oh, good,” Fudge sighed in relief.  “So what’s the problem?”

“Harry isn’t happy with the way the Aurors are being run, and is going to do something about it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Fudge said.  “I can get some good press off that.”

“You can indeed,” Malcom said cheerfully.  “As long as you rubber-stamp the decisions Harry makes.”

“Of course, of course,” Fudge said cheerfully.

“Excellent.  I’m sure Harry will remember it as the election gets closer.”

Fudge nodded so hard that Malcom was afraid his head might fall off.  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, have a good evening.”

Malcom picked up another pinch of the floo powder, and threw it into the fireplace.  “The Weasleys.”

“Malcom?” Arthur Weasley asked, surprise on his face.  Which wasn’t that surprising.  He’d never actually called the red-haired man before.

“There was an incident involving some Death Eaters today,” Malcom said.  “Ginny was hurt.”

“What are you doing with her?” Arthur yelled.

Malcom paused and turned his head.  “I believe that my wife is at this very moment subjecting her to the horrors of a warm bath, after my personal physician tended to her wounds,” he said coolly.

“But…”

“Yes,” Malcom sighed.  “We’re a dark family, if you listen to Albus.  And we’ve influenced Harry to be dark, right?” he said, repeating the rumours he had heard.

“Well, yes,” Arthur replied, a faint flush appearing in his face.

“I find your lack of faith in Harry disturbing,” he said.  “You might want to wonder what would happen if Harry changed us more than we changed him.”

He saw Molly Weasley’s head appear next to her husband’s.  “Where is my daughter?”

“As I said,” Malcom replied.  “In the bath at the moment.  I Floo’d to invite you to come and see her.”

“Oh,” Molly blushed.  “Thank you.”

“The address is Parkinson Manor.  You are now on the access list.”

“Thank you, Malcom,” Arthur said, his voice sounding as if he couldn’t believe he was saying it.

Malcom nodded and closed the Floo.  He picked up some more powder, and threw it into the fire again.  “Croaker.”

“Malcom?”

“Want to pop through?” he asked.  “You’ve just been conscripted.”

Croaker nodded, a surprised expression on his face.

Malcom walked over to his desk, and pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey.

“So, what’s going on?” Croaker asked, as he sat down in front of Malcom’s desk.

“We had a minor Death Eater attack earlier.  My wife and daughter and a few friends took out some, ‘til Harry got there and took out the rest.  We’ve got Nott in our own dungeons, the rest downstairs.

“Harry was extremely annoyed that the Aurors took so long to get there and doubly so when he found out that half of them don’t work weekends.

“One of his friends was injured, so he made sure my doctor got to our Manor as quickly as possible, and then spied on the Aurors.  He found two of them were either Death Eaters or sympathizers, and were trying to set one of them free.

“So Harry has decided to take control of the Aurors, and you’re in charge of them.”

Croaker blinked.  “He’s done what?”

“You start tomorrow,” Malcom smiled.

“But, Fudge…”

“Has promised to rubber-stamp Harry’s decisions,” Malcom agreed.

Croaker leant back and shook his head slowly, and started to laugh.  “Well, that’s a promotion for you.”

“It’s the way Harry works, he puts people he trusts in power.  I’ve now got to run damage control with the Prophet, to try and keep as many names out of things as I can.”

“It sounds like you’re having a fun day.”

“You know, I am,” Malcom grinned.

“Where’s Ginny,” Molly demanded as soon as she arrived at Parkinson Manor.

“Sit,” Harry growled, still in a foul mood.

“Harry?” Arthur asked.

“I said, sit,” he repeated, pointing to the chair.  “Ginny is fine, the doctor’s patched her up, and Gruoch and Pansy are looking after her in the bathroom.  What she doesn’t need right now is some hysterical, over the top reaction from her parents.”

“What?” Molly asked, bristling.

“I said, sit!” Harry roared, his magic escaping for a second.  The two adults sat instantly.

“Thank you,” Harry said and flopped down into a chair.  “We are going to sit here and talk a few things through before they are finished and come downstairs.  They are aware you are coming over.”

Molly and Arthur exchanged a long look.

Harry took a deep breath.  “I seem to have been doing nothing but having awkward conversations lately.  What do you know about what happened this summer?”

“Not much more than you told us,” Arthur admitted.  “But Albus was very worried about you.”

“Okay,” Harry sighed.  “Here’s what happened.”  He explained as fast as he could most of what happened over the summer, including his relationship with Pansy.

“But…” Arthur said slowly, as he finished.

“Yes, the Parkinson’s are grey, and they only care about family first and foremost, and you know what?  I don’t mind.  I’m happy with it, because they’ve given me the support I need without question.  Malcom is in the office at the moment, working as hard as he can to keep Ginny out of the press tomorrow, and to ensure that everything goes smoothly when I have a talk with the Aurors.”

“You’ve changed,” Molly said softly, shaking her head a little.

“I’m still the Harry you love,” he said softly.  “But I’m also the Harry that has to kill Voldemort, or die trying.”

“And Albus knew this all along?” she asked.

“He told me himself,” Harry agreed.

“I’m more than a little confused, Harry,” Arthur said.  “There’s been a few too many reversals of long held beliefs today.”

“Moving on, exactly why did you send the Howler to Ron and Ginny?”

“Because they had moved out of Gryffindor Tower.”

“And into their own rooms in the Room of Requirement.  Where I could keep a permanent eye on them.  They were safer there than anywhere else in the school, because I control the environment, unlike the rest of the school, which has been a death trap the last five years.”

“But Albus…”

“Albus exaggerated to get what he wanted; you to react.  Think about it logically for a moment.  Do you really think so little of your daughter that she’d suddenly become a scarlet woman, or of me, that I would become evil?”

Molly blushed and looked down.

“Your children are in danger because of me, and their friendship with me.  Ginny is a target, Ron is a target, Hermione is a target.  Right now, the Parkinsons are a lot more of a target than you are.  Because they are fighting Voldemort in a new way he hasn’t experienced before.  We’re matching him at his own game for the first time ever.  I’ve taken control of parts of the Ministry, and if things go well, I’ll have full control after the election.

“Ron and Ginny, and the rest of your family, are targets because of your involvement with the Order, they are targets because they like Muggles, and they are targets because they are decent, honourable people.

“Today, Ginny helped save peoples lives.  What she needs right now is love and support, not recriminations that you will certainly regret later.  That’s why I didn’t let you go upstairs earlier.  You can’t afford to push your children away at the moment, we all need our families.”

Molly looked at him and sighed softly.  “They’re my babies,” she said.  “It’s so hard to see them in danger.”

“I know,” Harry said, dropping to his knees in front of them.  “I feel the same way every time they step out the door.  But this isn’t normal. Ginny is an incredible witch, and Ron, when he uses his brain, is an incredible wizard.  They are people who you should be so proud of.  They are people who stand up for what they believe in.  Ginny is someone who fought being possessed by Voldemort for a year.  She knows, just like I do, how evil he is.  You can’t put that genie back in its bottle.

“What you need to do now is what you do best; support your children as they become the adults that they are determined to be.”

Molly smiled down at him.  “Okay, before we continue, what’s that son of mine done?”

“What do you mean?” Harry prevaricated, looking away.

“Harry,” Arthur said, shaking his head.  “We have raised seven children.  That’s not going to work.”

“It’s an issue between all of us, and we are dealing with it, as adults.  Ron is thinking things through today.  Hermione’s in the library, staying away from him.  He made a mistake last night, and he has to decide if that is what he wants to be.”

“Okay, Harry,” Arthur said firmly.  “We’ll take you word for that.”  It was clearly more aimed at his wife than Harry.

“What am I going to do with you?” Molly asked with a sigh.

“You’re going to trust me,” Harry entreated them.  “Trust me that I am going to end this war once and for all, and that I will do everything I can to keep as many people alive as possible.”

Molly took a very long look at Arthur, and then sighed softly.  “I do trust you, Harry.  And I do trust my children.”

Harry smiled and sat back on the chair, sending out a mental call to Pansy.

A few seconds later, Pansy walked in, followed by Gruoch, Daphne, and Ginny.

“Ginny,” Molly said, embracing her child.  “How are you?” she asked gently.

“I’m fine, Mum,” Ginny said with a smile.  “Peirce fixed me up, and Gruoch and Pansy looked after me.”

Molly shifted slightly and released Ginny so that Arthur could hug her.

“What have you done to your hair?” Molly asked, when Arthur released her, and she could see her daughter properly.

“I’ve done nothing,” Ginny replied, smiling a bit.  “The hairdresser, on the other hand, styled it for me.”

“What hairdresser?”

“I took her to see mine,” Pansy said casually, sitting formally opposite the elder Weasleys.  “She was jealous that mine still looked good after we rode the Thestrals that other day.”

Ginny nodded in agreement.  “After she blow dried my hair, it didn’t seem fair that her work was wasted.”

“I don’t even know where to start with this,” Molly grumbled, as she sat back down.  “Can I…”

“I really hope,” Pansy interrupted, “that you weren’t about to offer to pay for Ginny’s haircut.  After she saved me in tonight’s fight, there is pretty much nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

Molly’s mouth opened and shut several times.   “Should I ask what you were doing out of school?”

“I..” Gruoch started.

“They were doing something for me,” Harry said.  “Much as I try to be everywhere at once, I am only human.  Like I said before, I hate putting people I love in danger, but sometimes I don’t have the choice.  There are things that need to be done, and I will use whatever resource I have to get it done.  I was very confident that there wouldn’t be any problems if they did run into trouble.  Pansy is probably the highest trained witch in the country, and if things had become seriously bad, she would have shown it.  Ginny and Daphne are both very skilled duellists, and Gruoch is someone I wouldn’t cross.

“I was in the Ministry, discussing some plans for me to take complete control, and unfortunately, I couldn’t schedule these for any other day.”

Molly and Arthur gaped at him again.  And continued to do so as the Floo sounded, and Malcom arrived back.

”How did it go?” Harry asked.

“Croaker said yes, and Fudge agreed to rubber-stamp whatever you decided to do.  I told him you’d remember at election time.”

“Smart,” Harry snorted.  “Play as many syntactic games as you like, just don’t promise anything I won’t deliver.”

“Isn’t Croaker an Unspeakable?” Arthur asked softly.

“He is,” Harry agreed.

“What did he agree to?”

“I’m taking control of the Aurors tomorrow,” Harry said bluntly.  “Too many of them appear to be either corrupt, or think that this is a fun job.  They’re the police, and they’re going to start acting like it.  We’ve practically ceded parts of the country to Voldemort, and it’s time we started taking it back.”

Harry sat back down next to Pansy, and then waved Ginny over.  He sat her between him and Pansy so that he could keep an eye on her.  He wouldn’t forget that she had stepped in front of a curse aimed at Pansy.

Pansy put her arm around Ginny as the red-haired girl rested her head on the brunette’s shoulder.

“I know you’ve been through a lot this past hour,” Harry said to Molly and Arthur.  “But I need to know what you are thinking.  If you need more time, I can give it to you, but I will have to Obliviate some of the things I’ve told you from your memories.  If you’d rather forget everything, I can do that as well.”

“You’d do that?” Arthur said.

“Without hesitation,” Harry said coldly.  “I’m not playing games here, and if I have to mind wipe people I love to protect others that I love then I will do that and more.”

Molly stared at him hard, and he took a deep breath, and completely lowered every one of his Occlumency shields.  He hated being so vulnerable, but he needed Molly to trust him; otherwise he would have to wipe their memories.

“I’m in – I’m following you,” Molly said abruptly.

Harry sighed with relief and slammed his shields shut, and shut his eyes.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Pansy asked, looking at him concerned.

“I hate doing that.”

“I know,” she said.  “But I was there; I would have been able to delay long enough.”

“What are you two talking about?” Daphne asked.

“To get Mrs Weasley to trust him, Harry just lowered all of his shields.  For a few seconds, he was more open than a Muggle.  He hates it, with a passion.”

“And I appreciate it,” Molly said with a sigh.  “I’ve not got much in the way of Legilimency talent.  I actually felt Harry helping me along, but sometimes it’s hard to make the right decision, especially when you know the other side of the table.”  She laughed softly.  “Who would have thought that I’d be sitting in the Parkinson living room, this evening, joining a sixteen year old boy on a quest to finally eliminate Voldemort?

“Right,” she said, pulling herself together.  “There is an Order meeting tonight, and I think that everyone needs to be able to make the choice I just made.  We need some food first.”

“That’s taken care off,” Harry smiled.  “Dobby and Winky have been cooking up a storm.  But there is one other thing.  We captured Nott.  I think we should bring him with us to the meeting.  See if he can answer a few questions; I’ve not got access to Veritaserum at the moment.  And that’s something we’re going to have to get hold of, Malcom.  Can you talk to Peirce, see if he knows anyone?”

“Will do,” Malcom said, making a note on one of his notepads.

“Can I ask how you intend to take full control of the Ministry?” Arthur asked.

Harry smiled, “Did you read the Prophet this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see the new act passed last night?”

“The act that allows other creatures to run for office?”

“Yep.  I’m going to have Remus elected as Minister.”

Harry, Ginny, and Pansy all laughed at the stunned expression on Arthur and Molly’s faces.

“Daph,” Harry said, as they walked as a group toward the school.  “Can you run ahead and get Hermione?  And Ron, I guess.”

“Will do,” Daphne promised, and started to jog away.

“Command seems to come naturally to you,” Molly noted.

“Not really,” Harry sighed.  “But the appearance is more important than the fact.”

Pansy looped an arm into his right, Ginny into his left.  “But as long as Harry has us backing him up, he’ll always seem to be in control.”

“Right,” Ginny agreed.

“Okay,” Harry said, as Ron and Hermione met up with them. Ron was hanging sheepishly at the back.  “Molly, Arthur, if you want to go in first?  When we get in there, Gruoch, Snape’s yours.  Keep him quiet.”

“Okay, Harry,” Gruoch said with a smile.  “I’ve been hoping you’d give me him.”

“Malcom, just be yourself.  You’re scarier than anyone else I know when you go cold.”

“That’s rich,” Malcom laughed, “from the boy who scared the magic out of a bunch of Aurors earlier.”

“I was little annoyed,” Harry said, looking embarrassed..  “The Death Eaters had attempted to hurt my girlfriend, had hurt one of my best friends, and the bloody Aurors were late.  Again.”

“Sounds like you had a hell of a day,” Hermione said, shaking her head.  “I’m sorry I didn’t come now.”

“What did you find out?” Harry asked.

“Quite a lot, but we’ve not got time right now to go through it.”

Harry nodded.  “Okay, people, everyone ready?”

There was a group of nods, and Arthur and Molly entered the large meeting room first.

Harry waited outside, concentrating hard.  “Molly’s trying to broadcast the room layout,” he said.  “I’m going to have to see if I can teach her some more Legilimency, she’s not very clear.”

He closed his eyes, picturing the scene, and exhaled.  “Right.”

“Harry, before we start, I just want to say thanks, for bringing me back in,” Ron said quickly.

Harry nodded at Ron.  “Show time,” he whispered to himself.  He turned, and stormed toward the doors.  They swung open with a bang before he got there, and he entered the room.

“Harry?” Dumbledore asked, looking surprised.

“Have you got any Veritaserum, Albus?” he asked.

“Some,” Dumbledore replied, after pausing at Harry’s deliberate use of his name.

“Excellent,” Harry said, as he walked to the front of the room.  “I didn’t have any myself or I wouldn’t have bothered you.  I picked up Nott earlier.”

“Nott?” Mad-Eye Moody demanded.  “What are you doing with him?”

“I took exception to him throwing some spells at my girlfriend,” Harry replied, as he levitated the Death Eater in.  “I thought we could ask him a few questions.”

“Enervate ,” he said, as he looked at the unmasked Death Eater.

Nott looked around wildly, and his hand went to his pockets.

“I’ve removed your Portkey,” Harry informed him.

“But not everything,” Nott replied with a smirk, tearing a button off his sleeve and eating it.

“Accio Button,” Harry called, and grabbed it.  There were a few drops of liquid left in it, and he sniffed it thoughtfully.  “Hermione?”

She sniffed as well, and then tasted it.  “It smells like some form of elixir.”

“If you’d asked,” Snape sneered, “I could have told you that all senior Death Eaters carry around a button like that.  Veritaserum won’t work on him for hours now, not even Legilimency could get through to him.  He’d have to tell you voluntarily.”

“Your problem, Snape,” Molly Weasley said, “is that you are absolutely useless.  You never tell anyone what you know, unless they ask for it specifically, and by then it’s usually useless information.  Exactly where was your warning of the attack earlier today?”

Snape sneered at her.  “I’m not privy to everything.”

“Severus,” Gruoch called.  As Snape looked over at her, she drew back her fist and punched him hard, catching him on the chin.

Harry laughed softly.  “I wonder why everyone who gets the chance just hits him, and doesn’t use magic?”

“It’s more personal, this way,” Gruoch explained.

“Can I ask just what’s going on here?” Mad-Eye demanded.

“Later,” Harry said dismissively.  “As our friend is now immune to potion, I’ll have to get the answers out of him the old fashioned way.”

“Start by breaking his arms,” Pansy encouraged.  “It’s only moderately painful, but it should get him in the right frame of mind.”

“Are you insane?” Ginny demanded.  “You can’t just break his arms, we’re the good guys.”

“You’re the good guys,” Pansy sniffed, as she pulled out a nail file and started to work on her nails.  “I’m much more of a dark witch.”

“Even so, you can’t just torture someone.”

“Actually, I can, Ginny,” Harry said reluctantly.  “And I can’t let these do-gooders get in the way, either.”  He waved his hand, creating a transparent barrier across the room, dividing him, Ginny, Pansy, and the bemused Nott from the others.

“What are you doing?” Nott asked, looking concerned.

“You have information I want,” Harry said coldly.  “As you’re not going to tell me what I want, I’m going to start breaking your bones.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Harry said with a sigh.  He watched as Hermione banged on the barrier dramatically, then pulled her wand out and cast a spell on it.  He hid a smile at her acting.  That spell wouldn’t keep a first year out, never mind the combined might of the Order of the Phoenix.  It would keep out the sound though, and that was what he wanted.

“You see, I’m not with the Order.  I spent the summer with the Parkinsons.  And they were such nice hosts.  I spent many hours in their dungeons learning just exactly what makes humans tick.  Unfortunately, we had to practice on Muggles; you know how it is, don’t you Nott?”

“Harry,” Ginny said.  “It’s not too late for you.  Sure you killed that Death Eater earlier but that could have been justified as self defence.  This is torture, pure and simple.”

“Grow up, Ginny,” Pansy said, placing her wand on a table.  “Nott started the war; we’re just going to finish it.”

She moved in front of the captured Death Eater, and twirled slowly in front of him, letting her skirt flick up a little.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, stretching her arms behind her and arching her back, emphasising her chest.

Nott shook his head, a confused expression on his face.

“Didn’t little Theo tell you?” she taunted, referring to his son, and turned away from him, and bent over a little, showing off more of her legs.  She turned again, and leant over in front of him, lightly running a finger down his face.  She smiled as he tried to pull away.  “Perhaps you know my parents.  Malcom and Gruoch?”

Nott blinked, “You’re Pansy?”

“Oh yes,” Pansy smirked.  She danced in front of Nott, sliding her dress up slowly, drawing Nott’s eyes down, till she got to the knife holster she wore.  She pulled out her knife slowly, exhaling with pleasure.  “Can I cut him first?”

“No,” Harry said firmly.  “He’s mine. I’ll make him scream.”

Pansy shuddered in pleasure, and walked over to Harry, kissing him hard.  She turned, and sauntered back to Nott.  He noticed how the Death Eater couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“I know what you’re thinking right now,” she purred softly.  “I know what you want to do to me.”  She shot a slow look at Harry.  “If he makes you scream so hard you snap your vocal chords, I’ll let him do everything you are thinking of to me.  The more you hurt, the more I will reward him with pleasure you can only dream of.”

“Harry,” Ginny said, pushing Pansy back away from Nott.  “Ignore the slut, please.  You can’t descend to his level.”

“Yeah, that’s right” Nott frantically agreed. “You can’t do that.”  He was now looking very pale, and was sweating profusely.

“I can, Ginny,” Harry smirked.

“You don’t know what I did all summer.  It was fun.”  He took the knife from Pansy, and lightly cut his own hand, the blood dripping down the knife.

He held up the knife to Pansy, whose face took on a rapturous expression as she licked Harry’s blood from the knife, and smiled, before kissing him lingeringly.

“Give me some of his blood,” she said begged, dropping to her knees in front him.  “Please, my master,” she said, looking up at Harry.  “I want to bathe in his pain.”

“Don’t, Harry.  She’s corrupted you, can’t you see it?  You didn’t use to be this way!” Ginny shouted

“Oh no,” Harry purred, as he moved away from Pansy and approached Nott.  “She didn’t corrupt me.  Voldemort did that, when he possessed me.  I got everything from him; including his love for pain and for torture.”

“No,” Nott screamed, as Harry ran the knife down his face.  “You can’t.”

“Oh, but I can,” Harry growled softly.  “I can, and I’ll enjoy it.”

“Please, Harry,” Ginny said as she pulled him away from Nott.  She dropped to her knees in front of him like Pansy had earlier, only instead of looking up at him eagerly; she looked down, in a submissive pose.

Slowly, she whispered, “Harry, do it to me; you know that I’ve always loved you.  You don’t need her; I’ll be your sacrifice, anything you want.  You know that I’m pure, unlike that slut over there.  You’ll still be on the good side, because I’ll be doing it by choice.”

“Oh no,” Harry said, as he reached down, and grabbed her hair, forcing her to meet his eyes.  “I’m going to have you, anyway, whether you want it or not, after I have him.”

Huge tears ran down Ginny’s face.  “Tell him,” she begged Nott.  “Don’t make him go down this route.  Please! If he does, he’ll be worse than Voldemort!”

“Don’t tell him,” Pansy said, taking a few steps forward and pushing Ginny away.  “Let him cut you.  You’ve served evil, you know what it’s like.  Let Harry become what he is destined to become, and I will be his black queen, feared and loved by all.”

“You’re insane,” Ginny gasped.  “How can you want that?”

“I’m a Parkinson,” Pansy said proudly.  “For too long, we’ve ruled from the shadows, now is our chance to rule from the throne.”

“But Harry?”

“Harry will be a God,” she breathed.  “A God I will serve in the most personal way.”

“What if he answers your questions?” Ginny cried to Harry.

“I don’t want anything he knows anymore,” Harry said, moving back to Nott.  “I just want his screams to echo in these hallways for eternity.  I want everyone who walks by this spot to shiver, as if the remnants of his agonies are embedded in the very stone.”

“What do you want to know?” Nott begged.

“Tell him about the Portkeys,” Ginny said.  “Maybe that will do it.”

“They are charmed to take us to the holding area.  We don’t know where Voldemort’s base is at the moment, no one does.  He’s paranoid, thinks there’s a spy.  Let me go, I won’t tell anyone what happened,” Not begged.  “Please!  I’ll leave the country, go some where else, and never come back.  I didn’t want to support him anyway.”

“I’m not interested,” Harry snarled, digging the point of the knife under his chin.

“H-h-he’s trying to get the giants on his side at the moment,” Nott screamed.  “I shouldn’t know how, but I overheard Malfoy talking about it.”

Harry paused, and turned to Ginny.  “But I want him to bleed.”

“Keep talking,” Ginny begged.  “Maybe he’ll leave you alone and just take me.”

Nott, now that he had started, didn’t seem to be able to stop, as he babbled for over thirty minutes, confessing everything he had done, and everything he knew about Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

“I don’t know anything else,” he finished, his voice cracked and dry.  He seemed to be about to pass out from his fear.

Harry took a step back and tossed the knife to Pansy, who caught it casually, and re-holstered it.  He moved over to Ginny and picked her up off the floor.

“You okay?” he asked seriously.

“Knees are a little sore,” she said with a smile.  “I’m not used to kneeling for that long.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and walked over to Pansy, kissing her gently.  “You okay as well?”

“Of course,” she smiled, and picked up Ginny, hugging her and spinning her around.  “You were brilliant,” she smiled.

“You were amazing as well,” Ginny replied to her.  “I got goose bumps when you licked the blood from the knife.”

“W-w-what’s going on” Nott asked, looking at them in disbelief.

“You just fell for the oldest trick in the book,” Ginny smirked.

“Pure innocent witch,” she pointed to herself.

“Evil slutty witch,” Pansy said, pointing to herself.

“Completely psycho wizard,” they both said, pointing at Harry.

Nott looked at them in horror.

“But the blood,” he said weakly.

“Designed to unsettle you,” Pansy said cheerfully.  “It was only a tiny drop.  My family name has an amazing reputation.”

“What are we going to do to with Nott now?” Ginny asked.

Harry thought for a moment.  “We can’t let him go, he knows too much about him now.”  He paused, and had an idea.  “I know, we can turn him into what he hates the most.”

“What?” the prisoner asked.

“A Muggle.”

“No,” Nott begged.  “Anything but that.”

“Your actions have consequences,” Harry said with a sigh.  “I need you out of the way, and I can’t take the chance you might escape.”

He pointed his hand at Nott, and started to bring his magic up between his eyes, using house-elf magic.  As he looked at the dark wizard, he saw the source of the brightness.  He reached out, trying to find a way to grasp it.  It was a little like joining his broom, but this time without guidance.  He slowly worked around the magic, disconnecting strands as he could find them.

He took a deep breath, and then pulled all the magic inside him.  The feeling was incredibly intense, like nothing he had experienced, and nothing he wanted to experience again.

He felt the magic merge with his own, till he felt like he was going to explode; only it didn’t stop.  There was more magic coming.  He started to shake.

“Ginny,” Pansy called, as she placed her hand on Harry’s shoulder.

He felt Ginny do the same, and he immediately diverted some of the incoming magic to both of them.

His vision turned silver, and he could see that both Pansy and Ginny’s eyes had turned the same colour, before suddenly, beams of solid silver erupted from them.  He realised a second later that he was doing it as well.

As quickly as it started, it was over, and room seemed to darken as they fell to their knees.  He could see Nott, unconscious on the chair, a look of horror imprinted on his face.  He absently waved his hand, and the barrier separating them from the others fell down.

Gruoch, Malcom, and Molly moved first, the two mothers hugging their daughters closely.

Malcom walked over to him, and offered him a hand up.

“That was scary acting,” Molly said, holding Ginny at arm’s length.  “But if anything is going to prove that you are growing up, that was it.”

“And you,” Gruoch said to Pansy.  “I’m going to have nightmares about the way you moved in front of him to get your knife out.  How do you feel?”

“Tired, but more powerful,” Pansy smiled softly.

“Can I ask what the HELL is going on here now!” Moody demanded.

“Not now,” Harry sighed. He climbed to his feet slowly.

“Are you alright?” Malcom asked, looking concerned.

Harry nodded slightly, touched.  “I’m fine,” he assured him.

Malcom nodded, and sat back down at the table.

“Tonks?” Harry called.

“Yes, Harry?”

He looked at her, and sighed softly.  “Nymphy,” he said, as the room suddenly went silent.  “Did you get everything he said?”

“I did,” she nodded.

He looked her straight in her eyes.  “Can you replicate a Dark Mark?”

She nodded again.

“I am ordering you to turn into Nott, and infiltrate the Death Eaters.”

Tonks swallowed hard and took a step back.  She saluted him formally.

“I don’t care what you have to do to survive,” Harry said softly.  “You will not face any punishment for it.  Your mission is to simply find out where he is.  As soon as you do, get the hell out of there and report back.”

She nodded.

Harry handed her the Death Eater’s Portkey, and one of the Parkinson’s.  “If you get in any trouble, find a house-elf, they’ll be able to get a message to me.”

Tonks nodded, and stared at the prisoner.

Harry walked over to him, pulled the Death Eater robes off of him.  He passed them to Tonks, along with the mask.

“Don’t die,” he said, and hugged her tightly.

Tonks shot him a grin, and pulled the robes on, before she turned into a perfect replica of Nott.  “How do I look?”

“Stupid, but evil,” Harry half smiled.  “When you get there,” he said softly.  “Turn Snape in as a spy.”

Tonks nodded, looked around the room briefly, and then tossed off a salute and hit the Portkey, vanishing.

Harry sighed and collapsed down on to a chair at the head of the table.  There was absolute silence as everyone looked at him.

“Things have changed,” he said softly.  “Albus and I disagree over many things, but not that Voldemort is going to die.  I believe that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the individual, not the other way around.  I am aware that I may have just ordered Tonks to her death; that’s why I did it that way.  It’s my responsibility, not hers or anyone else’s.  She is incredibly brave, and I will do everything to keep her alive, as I would anyone else.”

He felt Pansy move behind him standing to his right and place a hand on his shoulder, and Ginny move to his left.

“Malcom and Gruoch are working for me; they are here to bring everyone up to date on what is happening in the Ministry.”

“What about me?” an awakened Snape demanded.  “You’ve just signed my Death Warrant,” he complained.

“Snivellus, if it came down to a choice between Tonks’ life and yours,” Harry sighed, “it would be her every single time.  However, Voldemort has more important things on his mind than chasing after you.”

“You’re behind everything?” Mad-Eye demanded.  “You’re the one who has the Aurors running around in panic, who has Fudge in his pocket, who has Croaker playing games?”

“I am,” Harry agreed.

“Well damn,” Mad-Eye grinned.  “Why didn’t you just say so?”

Harry laughed softly.

“How are you feeling, boy?” the wizened ex-Auror demanded.

“Bloody awful, thanks.”

Mad-Eye laughed.  “Perfect.  Always is difficult the first few times you do it.  And don’t think I wasn’t impressed by that little play you put on.  He sung like a canary, and you didn’t even draw blood.”

Harry smiled slightly, “I was lucky.  Ginny and Pansy are fantastic actresses.”

“And very loyal.  I like to see that.  So, Albus, what’s going on with you and Potter?”

Albus sighed and settled down on the chair, his pale blue eyes twinkling slowly.

“I’m afraid,” he said slowly, “that actions have consequences, and I’m just finding out now what the consequences of my actions are.”  He smiled faintly at Harry.  “I’ve found out a lot over the past few days.  I know I’m old, but my facilities are still working.  It fell together for me when Remus said that he was busy, and I saw the Prophet this morning.”

“What?” Fred, who had been quiet longer than Harry had ever seen him, blurted.

“Yeah,” George added.

“I’m going to have Remus elected as Minister,” Harry said simply.

Charlie whistled slowly.  “What I want to know,” he demanded, “is exactly why I am only finding out about these plans now?  Surely you knew I’d follow you in a second?”

“Damn right,” Bill agreed.

“Please,” Albus said softly.  “I haven’t finished.”

The ancient wizard took a deep breath as he looked around.

“I was hoping Harry would show up tonight.  I will admit to not anticipating Nott being here, but I knew about nearly everything else.

“I’ve been fighting for more years than I can remember,” he continued.  “And I started to forget what I was fighting for, and who I was fighting for.  It became a game for me, and for Voldemort.

“For that reason, and for the consequences of my actions, I will pay the price.”

He stood, proudly.

“If you will allow it, I will follow you, Harry.”

White Knight, Grey Queen

8 - Finishing (part 1)

Pansy stirred, sleepily opening her eyes and looking around in the dark.  Something had disturbed her; she just didn’t know what.

Harry was fast asleep beside her; his chest rising and falling with a comforting regularity.  She reached out and brushed his hair back softly, checking that it wasn’t him that had caused her to wake.

It wasn’t.

After the meeting, Harry had moved Ron, Hermione, and Ginny back into the Room of Requirement.  He hadn’t actually told anyone, but with Dumbledore’s surprising announcement, and how he had talked to Molly earlier, he’d known that no one would stand in his way.

They’d all gone to bed after the meeting; she had been exhausted and knew that Harry and Ginny were as well.  Their absorption of Nott’s powers had tired them out, and spending the rest of the evening bringing the Order up to date had finished them off.

Ron had gone straight to his room, keeping to his promise of leaving them alone.

She sighed softly.  If it had been her choice, Ron would be out of their lives so fast his feet wouldn’t have touched the floor.  He’d hurt her, and he’d hurt Harry and Ginny.  Her instinct was to take steps to make sure he’d never do it again; no matter what it took.  But he was still Harry’s best male friend, and that did concern her a little.  He needed more male friends, but he seemed more comfortable around girls.

She felt the same thing that had awoken her again, so she crawled out of bed.  She straightened her silk pyjama top and padded quietly out into their living room.  The stone floor was cold, so she danced over to Ginny’s door, and placed her ear to it.

Pansy could hear a low muffled sound, so she slowly opened the door.  Ginny was tossing violently on the bed, asleep, and in the throes of a nightmare.  She walked over to the bed and gently touched Ginny’s hair, brushing it back.

“No, you can’t,” Ginny whispered in her sleep.  “I won’t let you.”

Pansy frowned and whispered, “Legilimens.”  She carefully sank into Ginny’s mind, wanting to see what was causing her nightmare.

She looked around mentally and then pulled out quickly.  She ran from the room and into her own.  She jumped on the bed.  “Harry!” she called urgently.

Harry was out of bed, standing in a defensive position before she could blink.  “What?” he growled, looking around for anything that might be a threat.

“Ginny’s having a nightmare.”

Harry relaxed a little.  “And?” he asked dryly.

Pansy shook her head slowly.  “Voldemort’s in her mind.  I could see him.”

“You went into her dreams?” Harry asked, his hands moving to his hips.

“She woke me,” Pansy shrugged, not really concerned about the lack of Legilimen ethics she had just displayed.  One of her family needed something, and no silly rule was going to stop her doing whatever was needed to help.

Harry sighed softly and looked vaguely amused, as he headed toward Ginny’s bedroom.

“I want us both to go into her nightmare and get Voldemort out of there,” Pansy stated firmly.

“She might not want us in her mind.”

“Tough,” Pansy said firmly.  “No one wants him in their mind.  And he doesn’t get to play with Ginny anymore; she’s ours.”

Harry nodded slowly.  “Okay, let’s go.”

They walked together back to Ginny’s room.  It was smaller than theirs, with a single bed in the corner.  The clothes she had been wearing earlier were lying on the back of a chair, and the bags full of the clothes they had purchased were still unopened.

Ginny was tossing and turning restlessly in her bed.  She’d kicked the covers onto the floor, revealing the short t-shirt and a pair of men’s boxer shorts that she slept in.

Harry walked over to her and sat on the side of the bed.  Like Pansy had earlier, he reached out and brushed Ginny’s hair back.  Pansy walked over and sat on the other side of Ginny.

“Ready?” he asked softly, looking at her.

“Damn right,” she smiled.

“Legilimens ,” they whispered together, sinking into Ginny’s mind.

They were in the Gryffindor common room.  It was completely empty without even the fire roaring, as it normally did throughout the year.

“I wasn’t here before,” Pansy said slowly.  “I was somewhere else.  It was dark, and there was a big statue.”

Harry nodded.  “The Chamber of Secrets,” he said.  “Let’s go.”

They jogged out of the room and down the stairs, heading toward the bathroom.  As she followed Harry, she watched as his clothes seemed to blur, and he was suddenly fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

It took her a few seconds to realise that since this wasn’t real – they could look however they wanted.  It was a mental projection of their physical forms.  She copied Harry, replacing her own sleepwear with more comfortable clothes.

They entered the bathroom, and the entrance to the Chamber was open.  Harry dove straight into it, and she followed him without hesitation.

They fell for a distance, until Pansy felt herself slow and she looked down.  Harry had his hands out, and his lips were moving as he whispered under his breath.  They landed gently, and he sprinted off.  She could feel his worry now, and his desire to protect both her and Ginny.  It was mixed with a sense of determination as he mentally prepared himself to do whatever was needed.

He skidded to a halt and placed a finger to his lips.

“Give in to me,” they could hear a voice croon.

“Voldemort,” Harry mouthed.

“Never,” they heard Ginny reply.

“Oh, you will,” the form of Tom Riddle whispered intently.  “After giving me so much power earlier, you can’t fight me forever.  I will wear you down.  No one can get me out of their mind.  And just think, no one will ever believe you.  They’ll think you’re just being silly; a silly girl in love with another woman’s man.”

“No,” Ginny whispered, sounding upset.

“Oh yes,” Riddle’s smirk was audible.  “But I could help you.  She’s a dark witch, you know that.  You stop fighting me, and I’ll get rid of her for you.  You’ll be able to have him then.  He’ll be yours, and you’ll have what you’ve wanted all these years.  Your only rival will be gone.”

“No,” Ginny said, sounding firmer.  “I love Pansy, and I won’t betray her.”

“Stupid girl,” Tom hissed.  “I offered you what you wanted, and you throw it back in my face.  So now, you’ll have to pay for it.  Maybe I’ll kill your mother or one of your brothers first.  Because I will win, and as soon as I do, I’ll start killing your family, and all you’ll be able to do is watch the expressions of betrayal on their faces as their darling Ginevra kills them.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Pansy said calmly, walking into view.  She was not going to let him do anything else to Ginny.  “Ginny has friends this time around, friends that love her, friends that believe in her, and friends that will fight your ugly arse.”

“Ugly?” Riddle asked, rearing back.  “I have it on good authority that I’m very good looking.”

Pansy stared at the form of Tom Riddle and shook her head slowly.  “This isn’t real, Tom; this is a dream.  And even in a dream, you can’t hide the fact that you’re ugly.”

“Oh, Pansy,” the future Dark Lord sighed sadly.  “And you had so much potential.  You could have been one of my favourite servants.  You would have had so much power.”

“I’m going to have more power than you can ever believe,” Pansy said softly, moving over so that she was standing next to Ginny.  “And I will have it without having to kneel to anyone.  I will help rule with my husband and my family, and we shall bring forward an era of peace and prosperity the likes of which have never been seen, and we shall be immortal.  When you are nothing but a forgotten, unmarked grave, we shall be remembered throughout time as heroes.  You will be nothing but a footnote to our place in history.”

The figure in front of her reared back as if struck.

“You can’t defeat me,” Tom hissed.  “I have her, and I will have you soon, too.  You gave her to me.  You gave me the power I needed to return when you took the Death Eater’s magic.  And now you will pay for what you have done.  You will pay for interrupting me.  You will pay with your life.”

“No!” Ginny yelled, jumping to her feet.  “I won’t let you!”

“Sit down, foolish child,” Voldemort roared, pointing his wand at Ginny.

Ginny collapsed against a ledge and struggled, trying to rise.

“You’ve not got your wand,” Tom smirked at Pansy.  “A mistake you will pay for with your life.”  He pointed his wand at Pansy.

“Why would she need a wand?” Harry asked.  He was leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed.

She smiled.  She hadn’t been worried.  She knew that Harry would protect her; he would always protect her and Ginny.

“Potter,” Riddle sneered, “you’re wandless as well.”

“And you’re an idiot,” Harry sighed.  “None of this is real and neither are you.”

“What?” Riddle hissed.

“You said so yourself,” Harry smirked.  “You never left; you just got a power boost so you could return.  You’re a bit of magic, a remnant of a spell.  You’re nothing but a bad memory.”

“I am Lord Voldemort!” he hissed.

“You were never Voldemort,” Harry sighed. “You’re a teenager with delusions of grandeur.  How does it feel to know that your plans are falling apart, again, and soon you’ll be dead?  You will never know what it’s like to be immortal.”

“I can not be defeated!”

“You can,” Harry corrected, calmly.  “You couldn’t even take control of Ginny.  She would have fought you and she would have won.  She’s stronger than you will ever know.”  He paused and turned his head and looked at Ginny.  “Stand up,” he told her simply.

Pansy watched as Ginny turned toward Harry and stared at him for a few seconds.  She slowly nodded and turned to face Tom Riddle.

“This is my mind,” the red-haired girl said slowly.  “You have no power that I don’t allow you here.”  She started to move, struggling, and then surged to her feet.

“You’re nothing but a memory,” Pansy said.  “And we are experts at dealing with unwanted memories.”

“Crucio !” Voldemort yelled, pointing at Harry.

“No !” Ginny yelled, and the spell stopped in mid-air.  “I said no!” Ginny whispered, walking forward.  “They are right.  I’m not a child anymore.  I’ve lived through your possession.  And you’re wrong about my life.  I have friends; I have friends who will save me from you when I need it.  I have friends willing to help me face you.  I have friends who will never think I am silly or laugh at me.  I have the sort of friendship with Harry and Pansy that you can never understand, that you can never even believe exists.

“I would die for them,” she whispered and walked over to Tom.  “And you know something?  I know they would die for me as well.”

Ginny turned and looked at Harry.  “How do I kill him?”

Harry smiled faintly.  “He’s only a spell, Ginny.”

She nodded slowly and turned back to Voldemort.  “Goodbye,” she said cheerfully.

“Wait!” Voldemort yelled.

“Finite Incantatem ,” Ginny said softly.

“No !” Tom yelled.  “You can’t do this.  You can’t do this to me. I’ve been your best friend forever.  I can still be that friend.”

“I have better friends now,” Ginny said.  “Finite Incantatem ,” she chanted again.

Pansy smiled faintly as Riddle’s image started to waver.

“No! ” Riddle yelled.  “No! ”

“Yes,” Ginny whispered.  “Goodbye, Tom.”

There was silence as Voldemort vanished completely.

“Is he gone?” Pansy asked.

“He is,” Ginny whispered.  “He’s completely gone.”

“And he won’t be back,” Harry added.  “Good work, Ginny.”

“He was waiting for me,” Ginny said.  “I didn’t expect him, but as soon as I fell asleep, he pulled me here.  I was so scared.”

“You fought him,” Pansy said firmly, pulling the smaller girl into a tight hug.  “You were so brave.”

“How are you here?” Ginny asked.

“You’re family.  We’ll always be where you need us.  I think I felt that you weren’t sleeping properly, so I came to check up on you and used Legilimency to see if you were okay.  When I saw that you weren’t, I grabbed Harry and we both came to help.”

“Not that you really needed us,” Harry smiled.  “You were doing a good job on your own.”

“I needed you,” Ginny said firmly, looking out from Pansy’s arms.  “I believed him.”

Harry smiled softly.  “It’s late.  We should get out of your mind.”

“You two are welcome inside my mind at anytime,” Ginny said seriously.  “I’ve got no secrets from you.”

Harry smiled.  “When we vanish, it will be time for you to wake up.”

Ginny nodded.

Pansy hugged Ginny one last time and looked at Harry.  As he nodded, she cancelled the spell and found herself looking down at Ginny on her bed.

Ginny opened her eyes and burst into tears.  “He’s gone,” she whispered.  “He’s really gone.”

“Of course he is,” Pansy smiled, hugging the smaller girl.

“Thank you,” Ginny sobbed.

“You’re welcome,” Harry said softly, reaching out and stroking Ginny’s hair.  “Come on, Pansy, we need to get back to sleep.”

“I’ll be there in a second,” Pansy replied.

Harry nodded and walked out the door.

“How long has he been there?” Pansy asked.

“All the time,” Ginny shrugged.  “I could handle it, and there didn’t seem to be anything anyone could do.”

“Don’t hide anything from us,” Pansy said softly.  “No matter how silly you might think it is.  If we can’t fix it, we can find someone who can.  You’re family, Gin.”

She walked to the door and then turned and paused, looking at Ginny.  The girl had a forlorn expression on her face.

She smiled softly, realising that Ginny didn’t want to be alone.  “Come on,” she said, holding her hand out.

“Huh?” Ginny asked, but Pansy could see the hope in her eyes.

“You’re not spending the night alone.”

“What?”

“Come on, you’re sleeping with us tonight.  You don’t want to be alone.”

“Thank you,” Ginny whispered and climbed out of the bed fast.

Pansy took her hand and guided her silently into her room.  She could already feel that Harry was asleep, which was a good thing.  She wasn’t sure how he’d react to this.  She climbed into bed next to Harry and gestured Ginny in next to her.

Ginny climbed in and snuggled down into the bed.  “Thanks,” she whispered.

Pansy smiled softly, “Sleep.”

Ginny smiled back and closed her eyes.

Pansy stared at the ceiling, feeling a little too awake to just drop back off into sleep.  She wanted to know why Ginny was allowed to continue with Tom Riddle’s spell in her mind.

Why had no one bothered to check to see if he had been completely removed?

Why hadn’t Dumbledore done something, anything about it?

She didn’t trust the headmaster and didn’t trust his earlier declaration that he would follow Harry.  Something didn’t seem right with the whole situation.  She was pretty sure that Harry hadn’t just accepted it blindly either.

She felt Ginny move against her and wrapped an arm around the other girl.  Ginny was so courageous to deal with Voldemort for so long, and at the same time, she never gave into him.  She was so impressed that Ginny had resisted him for so long.  But it was what she expected from the younger girl.

She yawned and closed her eyes, letting herself drift into a light sleep.  She wanted to be able to react if Ginny had any more nightmares.

Pansy woke again and inhaled.  The smell of flowers filled her nose, and she smiled slightly.  “Ginny,” she whispered softly.  The younger girl had pressed against her during the night and was lying across her.

“Hmm?” Ginny asked, not opening her eyes.

“Let’s get up early,” Pansy said.  “It will save questions later.”

Ginny opened her eyes and looked around.  “Thank you,” she said softly.  “I needed that.”

“I know,” Pansy replied.  “Now, let’s get you out of here before Harry wakes up.”

Ginny nodded and rolled out of bed, wincing as her feet touched the floor.

“Harry needs to put some carpets in here,” Pansy agreed, sliding out of bed herself.

They walked out of the bedroom to find that Ron was already up and was sitting on the couch, looking out a window.  He turned and gaped at them.  “You spent the night with them?” he demanded, looking shocked.

Pansy growled and stalked forward.  She grabbed the front of Ron’s shirt and threw him against a wall.  She shifted her body, shoving her arm across his throat and pinning him against the stonework.  “If I had my way,” she spat angrily.  “I’d do something permanent with you and make sure you never got near my family again.  Instead, I’m going to give you one last chance.

“Absorbing Nott’s power last night woke up the spectre of that damn diary in Ginny’s mind.  It had been waiting since her first year.  I heard her fighting with him, I got Harry, and we both entered her mind.  Harry showed Ginny how to defeat him permanently.  And she did it; she killed the spell.  Unsurprisingly, she was upset and didn’t want to be alone, so I invited her to sleep with me.  Harry doesn’t even know, as he’d already gone back to sleep.  I made damn sure that Ginny was okay, and what she doesn’t need is another stupid reaction from you when you don’t know any of the facts.”

“Why?” Ron choked out.  “Why would you do that?”

“Because she’s family,” Pansy snarled.

“What… what does that mean?”

Pansy paused for a second, thinking it through.  “Everything,” she said simply.  “Now,” she continued, glaring at Ron again.  “You have a choice.  You can stop being a git, or you can find out what happens to people who hurt my family.”

“I’m sorry,” Ron said.  “I just reacted.”

“You always ‘just react’,” Pansy sighed.  “Reacting doesn’t work.  You have to find out what is happening first, and then act.”  She let Ron drop to the floor and she walked over to the couch, sitting down.  Ginny curled up next to her.

“You’re on the edge,” Pansy continued.  “You can go either way.  It’s simple; you’re either with us or you’re not.  Hermione’s with us.  Daphne spent a long time persuading her to give you another chance, whether you deserve it or not, because Hermione does like you.  You came within an inch of losing her.  And don’t think that Harry wouldn’t make the hard decision.  He sent someone to their possible death last night; cutting out a friend doesn’t even rank on the same scale.  This group of people here is the future of the Wizarding world.  With Harry in the background, we will take over, and we will launch the world into a period that historians will call Utopia.  Every revolution starts with a bloodbath as the old system is removed.  We’re lucky in that we don’t have a moral battle to fight, because the old system is obviously corrupt and evil.  We even have a face for the evil: Voldemort.  He will go down, he will be defeated, and we will start anew.  The sheep will be dragged, kicking and screaming, into the future; the future that we will provide.  You have a place in that future, something most students here would kill for, but you are not irreplaceable.  None of us are, and if he needs to, Harry can and will replace anyone of us.  He is the only one we need, and he is the only one with the strength and courage to do what is needed.”

Ron slumped into a chair.

“It’s a simple question, Ron.  Do you want to be in or out?”

“In,” Ron said without hesitation.

“Then you need to act like it,” Pansy snapped.  “You need to curb your temper and learn to ask questions and think things through first.  Appearances to the contrary, you’re obviously not stupid; you just have to start using what intelligence you do have.  And you need to stop being such a bloody hypocrite.”

“What?” Ron demanded.

“You were upset that your mother instantly thought the worst of you, yet you did exactly the same thing to Ginny.  You just presumed the worst based on the flimsiest of evidence.”  She sighed and looked at him thoughtfully.  “Spend another day away from us, Ron.  You obviously didn’t think hard enough about what is happening, so go.  Read a book in the library or in your room.  We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Ron got to his feet and looked at her slowly.  “I think you are wrong,” he said slowly.  “Harry’s not the only one who is indispensable.  Without you, he wouldn’t have the focus he does now.”

Pansy shrugged softly.

“Ginny,” Ron said.  “I am sorry.”

“You always are, Ron,” Ginny said gently.  “If you decide not to do it again and let me live my life however I want, then you’re forgiven.”

Ron nodded and walked into his room.

“So, taking the world into Utopia?” the amused voice of Harry said from the corner.

“How much did you hear?”

“All of it,” Harry shrugged.  “He didn’t listen to me that closely, because we’re friends, so he needed to hear it from you.”

“I didn’t see you,” Ginny half-asked.

Harry smiled and ignored the question.  “So, are you going to join me on my morning run?”

Pansy looked at Ginny, who nodded.  “Sure,” she said, giving a long-suffering sigh.

“Well, get dressed then,” Harry smiled.  “It’s beautiful out there.”

“Yes, master,” Pansy said slowly.  “Come on, Gin, go get changed.”

Ginny nodded and walked to her room, and Pansy followed Harry into theirs.

“Why was Ginny sleeping with us last night?” Harry asked from where he lounged casually on the end of the bed.

“How did you know?” Pansy asked.

“One of the pillows smelled like flowers, and there was a long red hair on the covers.”

Pansy smiled faintly.  “She needed us last night.”

Harry nodded.  “Didn’t want to be alone?”

“Nope.”

“I can’t believe she’s been carrying him around in her mind for so long.  I hated it when I had him in mine for just a few minutes.”

“He’s gone, now; she’ll never be taken by him again.”

Harry nodded.  “Damn right.  I think we need to go and see your parents today – all of us.  Last night has changed things, and we need to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Pansy smiled.  “I’ll write Dad a note on the pad and get him to owl us a Portkey.”

Harry nodded.  “Do you actually want to join me for a run this morning?”

“No,” Pansy laughed.  “But I need to.”

“Come on then,” Harry smiled and walked back into the living room. Pansy followed him closely.  Ginny was already waiting for them, her hair pulled back in a ponytail.  She was wearing some of the clothes they’d bought for her the day before.

“What about Daphne and Hermione?” Ginny asked.

Pansy paused and frowned.  “You wake up Daph and ask her,” she said to Ginny.  “I’ll wake up Hermione.”

“Are you sure?” Ginny asked, looking a little surprised.

“I want to try and make proper friends with her,” Pansy explained.  “And I can’t do that by avoiding her.”

Ginny smiled and nodded.

Pansy walked into Hermione’s room and smiled slightly.  The room itself was lined with books, with a small fireplace in the corner.  Two chairs sat next to the fire; opposite was a large four-poster bed.  She walked over to the bed and looked down at Hermione.

The girl was lying flat on her back, her head to one side, looking completely at rest.  “Hermione,” she called softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

Hermione opened her eyes, jerking into wakefulness.  “Morning,” she whispered, her voice sounding a little raspy.

“Morning,” Pansy said, taking a seat on the side of the bed.

“What’s the matter?”

“We had another Ron incident this morning,” she sighed.  “I think that Ron thought he would be forgiven because Harry always does, if that makes sense?”

Hermione nodded, sitting up and resting her back against the headboard.

“I gave him one more chance.”

“Why?” Hermione asked softly.

“For Harry and for you,” Pansy replied.  “Otherwise, I would have thrown him out.”

“Is it hard?” Hermione asked after a few seconds of silence.

“What?”

“Acting differently for someone else?”

“At times, yes,” Pansy nodded.  “It’s difficult to think about what you’re doing when all your instincts are to protect your family.  It’s easier because we’ve always been ‘grey’, and at times, you need to be able to see the bigger picture.  Ron can be valuable, both to you and to Harry.  But he doesn’t get another chance.”

Hermione nodded slowly.  “He hurt me,” she said softly.  “And it scares me, you know?  It scares me for the future.”

Pansy sighed softly.  “All I can say is that it’s happened now.  See how he reacts to it.  You’re still both so young; you have an eternity in front of you.”

“And you’re not?” Hermione asked.

“Young? No.  I’ve not been young since I saw my cousin die because of a stupid dare I gave him.”

“I’m sorry.”

Pansy shrugged.  “I’m over it now.  Time is the only healer; well, time and Harry.  Anyway, I didn’t wake you to talk about the past or Ron.  We’re going for a run and we wanted to invite you along.”

Hermione smiled slightly.  “Thanks, but I’ve never really been athletic.”

“Oh please,” Pansy grinned, rolling her eyes.  “You’re a Gryffindor, of course you are.”

“I’ve not got any clothes,” Hermione tried again.

“You can borrow some of mine.”

“I’m not going to get out of this, am I?”

“Sure, if you just say ‘no’ without an excuse.”

“I’m too much of a Gryffindor to do that,” Hermione sighed.

“I know,” Pansy grinned.  “I’ll go get you some clothes.”

“Pansy,” Hermione called.

She paused in the doorway, looking back.

“Why are you trying so hard with me?”

Pansy turned and leant against the doorframe.  “I wasn’t going to,” she admitted.  “But I didn’t realise that you were Harry’s family.  When I saw you together, I realised it.  He needs you as much as he needs anyone.”

Hermione blushed softly.  “I need him as well,” she said quietly.  “I’ve never had a brother, so I don’t know if that’s the right word, but I think I like your words better.  He’s my family.”

Pansy smiled at her.  “I’ll get you some clothes.”

After the run, they showered and headed for breakfast.  Pansy was the last out of the shower.  She wrapped a robe around herself and with a towel around her hair, she walked to breakfast.  She wanted to send a message to everyone else that Harry was hers, and that she was completely comfortable at school.

She had an idea of what was going to happen today, and she wanted to make it very clear that she was with Harry all the way, no matter where he went or what he did.

She opened the door to the Great Hall and hid a smile.  Everyone turned to stare at her, as it was unheard of for someone to come to breakfast in only a dressing gown.  She strode confidently over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring the look she could feel from Draco.

Harry looked at her and smiled.  He turned and hopped up so that he was sitting on the table.  She sat between his legs and pulled the towel off her hair.  Harry clicked his fingers and started to go through her hair with the brush that appeared.

Dobby appeared and handed her a bowl of cereal.  The elf winked at her and vanished in silence.

She sighed happily, as she felt Harry’s magic hands work on her hair.  She ate her breakfast quickly, so that she could close her eyes and relax.

She felt some gentle tugs on her hair and realised he was braiding it with quick competent movements.

“Hair dressing?  I always knew he was gay.”  She heard Draco sneer.  The Slytherin was probably trying to be quiet, but with no one else talking, his voice echoed around the Hall.

Pansy laughed softly.  “Calling Harry gay in front of his girlfriend is remarkably stupid,” she said quietly, letting her own voice echo around the hall, “as I’ve had many incontrovertible examples of just how heterosexual he is.  But you wouldn’t understand how to treat a girl properly, as you’ve never had one.  You’re a sad little boy, Draco, desperately looking for approval and finding none.  It’s because you’re an incompetent.  Everyone knows it.  You can’t even say the name of your Master.”

Draco went silent; obviously, he’d learnt the lesson about talking about Voldemort.

Pansy felt Harry finish and stood up.  She bent forward and touched his jaw softly.  She raised it and leant down and kissed him softly, lingering against him.  “Thank you,” she whispered loudly and turned, walking back out to get dressed.  She was pretty sure that she’d passed on the message.  And she’d manage to do it without actually breaking any rules.

Harry watched his girlfriend walk out the room and smiled slowly.  He turned and dropped back into his seat, wondering when the conversation would start again.  He wasn’t quite sure what message Pansy had been trying to send, but he was pretty sure she’d been successful.  It had been a close thing, because the robe hadn’t been far from being indecently short, and he was pretty sure she hadn’t been wearing a bra either.  How she’d managed to sit so comfortably without flashing anyone, he knew he’d never know.

The doors opened, and the post owls flew in, as they did every morning.  He held out his hand calmly, knowing that Hedwig would find him.  A few seconds later, she did.  He could feel her claws dig gently into his arm and heard her hoot merrily at him.

“Enjoy your flight?” he asked.

Hedwig seemed to nod, and held out her foot imperiously.

“Help yourself,” Harry said, as he removed the small parcel, indicating the leftover food below.

Hedwig chattered merrily and jumped down to the table, nabbing a sausage.

“You’re welcome,” Harry said casually as he scanned the letter.

Hedwig paused in her eating to chatter again.

“Nah,” Harry remarked casually.  “I’ve got nothing else for you to do.”

Hedwig cocked her head and hooted.

“Go ahead,” Harry said as he finished the letter.  Hedwig jumped up onto his shoulder, and nipped his ear affectionately, before flying out of the hall.

Harry looked around at his friends to see them staring at him in shock.  Around him, the hall was in silence again.

“What?” he asked, looking down to see if he’d spilt some food on himself.

“You were talking to her,” Hermione said slowly.

“Who?” Harry asked.

“Hedwig.  Your owl.  You were talking to her.”

Harry blinked and mentally rewound the last few minutes.  He hadn’t exactly understood Hedwig, but he’d known what his owl was saying.  “She was hungry,” he explained.

One of the things he’d picked up from Malcom was to never admit ignorance in public.

That sort of thing was best done in private.

“Of course,” Daphne said dryly.

“Yeah,” Ginny agreed.  “And I think it’s time we had a little talk.”

“Agreed,” Hermione said.  “And I’m sure Pansy will want to join in as well.”

Harry sighed softly, hiding his smile.  “Well, let’s go then,” he said, standing and striding toward the exit.  He could feel the three girls flank him.

They walked through the corridors in silence, heading back to the Room of Requirement.  They entered, and he flopped down onto one of the couches.  Daphne and Ginny sat on the couch opposite him; Hermione sat on the couch to his right.

“What’s going on?” Pansy asked as she entered the room, now dressed properly.

“He was talking to Hedwig,” Ginny said, waving her hand at Harry.

“He does that,” Pansy replied with a confused shrug.  “It’s kinda cute.”

“Hedwig was talking back,” Hermione elaborated.  “And they were having a conversation.”

“Ahhh,” Pansy smiled.  “And you think that it’s what?” she prompted Hermione.

Hermione blinked.  “You aren’t asking Harry?”

Pansy shook her head, “He doesn’t know.”

“That’s spooky,” Daphne pointed out.

“A little,” Pansy agreed.  “But then, we’re witches – we’re allowed to be a little spooky.”

“Well,” Hermione interrupted.  “I think it’s the Mark of the Spiders helping out.  We may have our own Dr Doolittle on our hands.”

“Woo,” Daphne cheered.  “Can I get a Pushme-Pullyu?”

“A what?” Ginny asked.

Harry looked blank, “I agree.  A what?”

“Sometimes I wish I had set fire to the Dursley’s house,” Pansy grumbled.  “It was a two-headed llama.”

“I can think of at least two things wrong with that,” Harry said with a smile.  “But what has it got to do with the Mark?”

“Dr Doolittle could talk to the animals,” Hermione said.  “And you should be able to do the same.  I had to dig quite deeply yesterday to find any books on this, and the one I found appeared to be written by a virtually unlettered incompetent.  I haven’t seen anyone butcher the English language that badly since I corrected one of your first Potions essays.”

“Hey!” Harry protested.

“Shush,” Hermione smiled.  “I kept a copy you know, for blackmail purposes.”

“I’ll give you anything you want for that copy,” Pansy offered.  “If you’d seen some of his homework for our Weapons and Tactics lessons, you would’ve been shocked.  I actually thought he’d been hiding his light at school.”

“Pansy,” Harry protested again.  “What is this, pick on me morning?”

“Yes,” the four girls replied instantly.

“I really need some more guy friends, so I can do all the belching and scratching the guys do,” he grumbled.

“Right,” Pansy drawled.  “And you can talk about how you’re sleeping with me and discuss Ginny’s boobs at the same time.”

“Why my boobs?” Ginny asked curiously.

“Because talking about Hermione’s would be wrong on so many levels,” Harry explained.

“Well, what about mine?” Daphne asked.  “Aren’t they good enough to be talked about?  Should I be insulted?”

“There’s nothing wrong with yours,” Harry groaned.

“So you have been looking?” Ginny asked.

“Yes… no…” Harry said, looking around and feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Finally!” Daphne yelled, as she walked over and gave Pansy a high-five.

“Huh?” Harry asked intelligently.

“We just wanted to see if we could get ‘Mr Self Possessed’ to blush,” Ginny grinned.  “And we succeeded.”

Harry blinked and shook his head in disbelief.

“Think of us as your own ego-busting squad,” Hermione smiled.

“I didn’t think I needed it,” Harry pointed out.

“You don’t,” Pansy agreed.  “But it’s always good to be prepared.  And to remind you that you are only human.  Out there, you will always be Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, Saviour, Hero, and Sex God.  With us, you’ll just be Harry, our friend and love.”

“And Sex God,” Daphne added with a grin.

Harry shook his head slowly, “Thanks,” he said, feeling strangely touched.  As long as he ignored Daph’s addition.  “Okay, let’s get back on track,” he said firmly.  “Hermione, what did you find out?”

“The Mark of the Spiders has two purposes.  The first, and most obvious, is the mark itself.  It is a visible sign that you have been accepted by one of the Acromantula clans.  Like all intelligent species, the Acromantulas are well respected by other animals, so by default, you will find that all animals pay attention to you and will be willing to help.”

Harry nodded and started to lightly stroke Pansy’s legs as she sat next to him and draped them over his lap.

“The second purpose is much more magical, and I’m afraid that I don’t know how it works.  As I mentioned, the book I read was almost impenetrable at times.  Basically, it somehow changes your magic to allow you to communicate with animals.”

“It wasn’t like I could understand what Hedwig was saying,” Harry said thoughtfully.  “I just knew what she meant.  The nearest I can describe it is that it was like talking to someone in a foreign language and recognising the root foundation of some of the words.”

“You mean like recognising the Latin and Greek in English?” Hermione asked.

“Exactly,” Harry nodded.

Hermione smiled and looked at Pansy.  “So he really did do his homework over the summer?”

Pansy smiled and nodded.

“It was just another way to be prepared,” Harry explained with a shrug.  “I’ve got to meet with Croaker early this afternoon and then with the Aurors after that.  As Voldemort knows that most of you are involved, you can come along as well.  Hermione, it’s your choice.”

“My choice?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Yes,” Harry nodded.  “Voldemort doesn’t know that you’re part of this yet, so if you want, you can stay here.”

“Or I can go with you,” Hermione prompted.

“Exactly.”

Hermione smiled slowly.  “Do you even know how much you’ve changed?” she asked.

“What?”

“Harry, I don’t think you’ve ever offered someone the choice before,” she explained.  “Normally you try and keep things to yourself; to try and do things yourself.”

Harry smiled slightly.  “I had some good teachers.  I can’t do this alone, and I want people I trust very close to me at all times.  When you kept the Order quiet last night, you proved that you trust me, so I have to trust you to be able to make your own decisions.”

“What did happen from your side of things last night?” Pansy interrupted.

“Well, when Harry cast the spell, I recognised it, and it took me a couple of seconds to realise what he was doing.  I play acted trying to break it, casting a couple of illusion charms and then I turned to the others.”

“Who weren’t impressed,” Daphne said dryly.  “Quite a few of them got to their feet, demanding to know was going on.”

“And sat back down very quickly,” Hermione laughed.  “When Malcom told them to ‘sit’.”

“Even Mad-Eye,” Daphne added.  “Malcom basically told everyone to shut up, pay attention, and remember what happens, and everyone did as they were told.”

“It was weird,” Hermione said thoughtfully.  “Malcom didn’t raise his voice, but it was like he shouted it.”

“I wish I knew how he does that,” Pansy grumbled.

“Stand up,” Harry said, carefully modulating his voice, so that it was just a few octaves lower than normal.  At the same time, he tried to blend some of his magic into it.

The four girls shot to their feet and then turned to gape at Harry.

“How did you do that?” Pansy demanded.

“I’m not sure how it works,” Harry admitted.  “Or even that it would.  I basically tried to lace some of my magic with my voice, while trying to talk a little lower than normal so that your brains would concentrate more on what I was saying.  Of course, Malcom has the gravitas to do that without cheap magical tricks.”

Hermione frowned thoughtfully as she sat back down.  “Bene Gesserit as well, Harry?”

“That one’s lost on me,” Daphne said.

“I was lost both times,” Ginny agreed.

“It’s not important,” Hermione said dismissively.  “It’s a clever mix of magic and psychology.  The lowering of the voice does exactly what Harry said; it forces you to listen harder to what he’s saying.  By interweaving it with magic, I suspect that it adds a level of command, vaguely similar to the Imperious but very short-acting.”

Harry nodded.  “I doubt it would work for anything more complicated that a short command, but it could be useful.  And that’s not how Malcom does it.”

A brown owl flew into the room and landed next to Harry.

“Thanks,” Harry smiled at the owl, as he took the message and a small package from the animal’s leg.  “Malcom’s Portkeys,” he explained to the others.  “Shall we go?”

“Wait a second, Portkeys?” Pansy asked.

“Yeah, I’m inviting someone else,” Harry explained.  “I told Malcom to send two when you were in the shower.”

“Oh, okay.  Just let me put some shoes on,” Pansy said, jumping up and vanishing into their room.

“I’m ready,” Ginny said cheerfully.

Harry threw one of the Portkeys at the red-haired girl.  “I’ll see you there,” he smiled and vanished.

He moved back through the Other Place outside Professor McGonagall’s room, and he knocked on the door cheerfully.

“Good morning, Harry,” the professor said as she opened the door.

“Morning.  I wanted to invite you to a meeting this morning with pretty much everyone involved.  We need to discuss some of the things that we found out last night.”

McGonagall nodded slowly.  “Just let me put some more comfortable clothes on.”

Harry handed her the other Portkey.  “This will take you to Parkinson Manor.  Just hit the top when you’re ready.  I need to pick up a few things beforehand.”

“I’ll see you in a bit,” McGonagall smiled.

Harry moved through the Other Place, arriving outside a bakery.  He walked in and picked up a dozen doughnuts and a variety of coffee and tea for the others.  It didn’t take him long to get back to Parkinson Manor, and he walked into the main meeting room, carefully balancing his purchases.

“Morning,” he said cheerfully to Malcom.  “How’s your guest behaving himself?”

“Are those doughnuts?” Malcom asked, ignoring the question as he looked at the box in Harry’s hand.

Harry nodded.

“I did say that you have my full backing to marry my daughter, didn’t I?”

“Of course,” Pansy said, as she walked into the room.  “If I’d known you’d have sold me for a doughnut, we probably wouldn’t have had the same relationship.”

“Shush, you,” Malcom said absently.  “I’m negotiating for doughnuts.”

“The great Malcom Parkinson does have a weakness,” Harry grinned.  “We better keep this to ourselves; we don’t want Voldemort knowing that he can get rid of his enemies simply by offering pastries.”

“Let me help you with that,” Ginny said, taking the doughnuts.

“Thanks, Ginny,” Harry smiled and moved the precariously balanced tray of drinks to both hands.

Ginny walked over to Malcom and popped the lid, offering him one.

“Hey,” Harry complained.

Ginny turned and stuck her tongue out cutely at him.

“Okay,” Malcom stated, as he took an apple doughnut in one hand and wrapped an arm around Ginny.  “That’s settled; we’re definitely keeping her.”

“Keeping who?” Gruoch asked as she walked into the room.

“Ginny,” Malcom explained.

Gruoch looked at half-eaten doughnut and sighed.  “Are you selling the crown jewels for doughnuts again?”

“Not at all,” Malcom complained.  “I’ve not had one in ages.  I’m normally surrounded by cruel, heartless wenches.  Just because I’ve found one that has taken pity on an old man, doesn’t mean that you have to interfere.”

“Right,” Gruoch snorted.  “And your trouser size will go back up soon.”

“He’s on a diet?” Ginny asked.

Gruoch nodded.

“Whoops,” she said and slid around Malcom, lifting the remaining half of a doughnut from his hand.  “Sorry,” she apologised.

“Infamy!” Malcom cried.  “Infamy, they’ve all got it in for me!”

Everyone else in the room groaned.  “So Gruoch isn’t the only one who watches TV,” Hermione smiled.

“Erm,” Malcom said, looking around.  “What is this, pick on me day?  Can’t we pick on Harry instead?”

Harry smiled.  “It’s your turn.  They did me this morning.  Daphne, Professor McGonagall is going to arrive in a few seconds, can you meet her and bring her in?”

“Sure,” the blonde witch smiled and walked out.

“Where’s Remus?”

“He got up late,” Gruoch said.  “He’ll be down in a few seconds.”

Malcom sat down at the large round table.  “Pass the coffee, Harry,” he sighed.

Harry sat opposite him and floated him a drink over.  Daphne, McGonagall, and Remus joined them shortly afterward. When everyone had a drink and a doughnut – including Malcom who had re-appropriated his from Ginny – Harry pulled out a sheet of paper and a biro.  “First up,” he said.  “How’s our guest doing?”

“Devastated,” Gruoch sniffed.  “He was crying when we placed him in the dungeons last night and he hasn’t stopped since.  We pointed out that without magic, escape was impossible – as the cell he is in has no door – and he seemed to accept that.”

“Good,” Harry nodded.  “Pansy, do you remember the first thing our Weapons and Tactics teacher taught us?”

Pansy thought for a few seconds.  “No plan survives the first encounter with the enemy,” she stated.

He smiled warmly at her.  “Exactly.  Last night changed a lot of things for us, so we have to change our plans, and I’ve got a few ideas.”

“Hold on a second,” Malcom ordered.  He finished off his coffee and settled back into the chair, gripping the arms tightly.  “Go on, hit me,” he smirked.

“Ginny,” Gruoch said calmly.  “Be a dear and hit that husband of mine.”

Ginny looked thoughtful for a few seconds and then leaned closer and lightly slapped the back of Malcom’s head.

Malcom smiled and relaxed.  “Go on, Harry.”

“Last night, Nott told us that there are only around eighty trained Death Eaters.  Another thirty or forty lackeys.  They have a few of the malcontent Giants, but most are staying out of it.  They do have the Manticores and the Banshees.

“We, on the other hand have the Acromantulas, the goblins, the house-elves, and after this evening, the Aurors.  And that’s not to mention the rest of the Order of the Phoenix.

“We also have Tonks infiltrating the Death Eaters, and she will be able to tell us soon where their main base is.”

“And?” Pansy asked softly.

“And then we should get everyone we can and launch a full out attack.  And I’ve got an idea on how to deal with the creatures as well.”

“Which is?” Pansy asked again into the stunned silence.

“We get Paddy to bring up all the Marines from Lympstone,” Harry explained.  “We have them armed to the teeth and let them use some of the more exciting Muggle weapons to blow the hell out of the base, forcing them to come out and fight us.  At the same time, we’ll trap them with Anti-Apparation wards, so that they can’t escape, and force them to meet us on a level playing field.”

Harry reached forward and helped himself to another doughnut, relaxing back in his chair as he looked around the table at the stunned expressions.  Malcom looked thoughtful, as he went through the idea.

“You want to attack?” Hermione asked.  “What about training the D.A.? And everything else?”

Harry shrugged.  “They won’t be ready in time, no matter what we do.  The plan before was to use them, but we can’t wait for them to be ready.  We have a chance now to act quickly and we need to take it.  The longer we wait, the more Death Eaters Voldemort can train, and the harder it will be.

“We’ve said all along that if people just stood up to them, this whole mess would have never happened.  Well, this is our chance to do exactly that.  We can stamp them out completely.  We should have superior numbers.”

“What about Voldemort?” Gruoch asked.

“I’m ready,” Harry said simply.  “I’ve got a chance of beating him now, and more time won’t really help that much.  There is nothing more that can prepare me for meeting him.  I’m in the best shape of my life, all my training is still fresh in my mind, and this way, we’ll have the element of surprise over them.”

Daphne whistled slowly.  “You know,” she said slowly.  “As insane as it sounds, it actually makes sense.”

“That’s what scares me,” Hermione said.  “It makes too much sense.”

“Does anyone have any better suggestions?”

“Couldn’t we use bigger weapons to take them out?” Pansy asked.  “Peirce said that Muggles have all sorts of bombs.  One of those Nukler ones?”

“Absolutely not!” Hermione stated.  “Those things kill everything for a fifty mile radius and poison the land for hundreds of years.”

“Fifty miles?” Ginny croaked.

“Uh huh,” Malcom nodded.  “Muggles are nothing if not inventive when it comes to killing each other.”

“Okay, that’s out,” Pansy sighed.  “I do kind of like the idea of attacking them, not the other way around.”

“So do I,” Malcom agreed thoughtfully.  “We were saying the other day that we wanted to get rid of these silly little confrontations, and one big one would certainly do it.  We could crush them in one go.”

“Or lose everything,” Gruoch pointed out calmly.

“Without risk, where’s the challenge?” Malcom grinned.

“I know,” Gruoch smiled back at him.  “So, the question is, can we organise it and keep everything we need quiet, quiet?”

“You’re serious about this?” Hermione asked, sounding a little surprised.

“We promised to back Harry to the ground,” Malcom explained as he leant forward.  He intertwined his fingers and rested his chin on the back of his fingers.  “That plan is sound.  We hit them hard with numbers, and with tactics they won’t know how to deal with, and we do our best to wipe them out.”

“Can you think of a better way, Hermione?” Harry asked, keeping his voice level.  “The floor is open to suggestions.”

Hermione looked down at the centre of the table, and frowned.  “Logically,” she said slowly, “I think you’re right.  But the Gryffindor inside me says that there is something wrong with it.”

“Turn down the Gryffindor,” Harry said softly.  “And turn up the other three houses.  Try and merge them together and see what happens.”

Hermione looked thoughtful, before she raised her head and stared directly at Harry.  “Do you really think you can handle Voldemort alone?”

“He won’t be alone,” Pansy and Ginny said at the same time and then smiled at each other.

“That’s it,” Harry agreed intently.  “I won’t be alone – none of us will be.  It won’t be kids against full-grown wizards.  It will be a lot of full-grown wizards, with help from Muggles, Acromantualas, and all of our other allies.”

“Okay,” Hermione said abruptly.  “Let’s do it.  What do I need to do?”

“Professor, Remus?  Anything you want to add?”

McGonagall pursed her lips and let out a small sigh.  “Harry,” she said slowly.  “You are going to have to start calling me Minerva when we are like this.  I’m working for you, not the other way around.”

“But…”

“Now is not the time to argue,” she said with a small smile.  “Your plan is well thought out and very risky.  But, it is something that we haven’t tried.  I have lived through Voldemort’s original reign of terror and through his second, and I am fed up with seeing my students’ lives end early because of him.  The idea of finishing this, once and for all, is one that I find attractive.”

“Remus?” Harry asked.

“I agree,” he shrugged.  “What do you need me to do?”

Harry smiled and relaxed back into the chair, looking at Hermione.  “How do you feel about politics?”

“Why?”

“I need someone to help Remus start his campaign at the moment, and I just realised that you’d be perfect.”

“I would?” Hermione said doubtfully.  “And how does that help with the attack on Voldemort?”

“Distraction, mainly,” Harry explained.  “After S.P.E.W., people know that you can often champion unpopular causes.”

Hermione smiled faintly.  “The politest way I’ve heard that put yet,” she said.

Harry smiled back at her and shrugged.  “Anyway, everyone also knows that you’re my best friend…”

“…And heart breaker,” Pansy interrupted.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Pansy.  “Yes, thank you.”

“Voldemort should think that is how we’re planning on attacking him.  He’ll think that I’m helping you with this, and he’ll work on trying to fight it with his own candidate.”

“While you are actually planning the attack,” Hermione nodded slowly.  “You know, as much as I hate to say it, this whole thing might just work.

“But I do have one more question,” she said, turning toward Pansy.  “Ginny mentioned this morning that you are planning on changing the world?”

Pansy smiled slowly and looked around the table, meeting everyone’s eyes.  “It started as a dig against Voldemort.”  Her eyes flickered to her parents, and she gave a quick rundown of what had happened early that morning.  “So, knowing what Voldemort is like, I fed his fears and told him that he would be forgotten as anything but a footnote to the history that we are going to create.”

“What is that history?” Daphne asked curiously.

Pansy took a deep breath.  “We will have Remus controlling the law, Dad controlling the money, and Harry controlling the peace.  We will force all the laws we’ve thought about through and create a fully open market place with heavy fines for corporate malpractice.  In effect, we’ll make everyone play by the same laws.  At the same time, we’ll make all forms of racism completely illegal and stamp down on anyone who practices them – and to avoid the obvious charges of running a totalitarian state, we’ll launch some public information campaigns to educate the sheep.  We’ll also enshrine in law the rights of the press to be free, but with one major caveat.”

“What?” Harry asked, more than a little impressed with her plan so far.

“We’ll call it the fair-apology law or something.  If they print something that isn’t true, they will be forced to retract it.”

“That’s the same as it is now,” Daphne pointed out.

“The same size,” Pansy continued.  “If they plaster false allegations all over the first four pages, their apology will have to be the same size.”

“Embarrassing them to triple check their facts,” Hermione said slowly.  “It’s a much better punishment than just fining them.”

Pansy nodded.  “The rest I haven’t thought out yet, but you get the general idea, right?  We just end the uneven playing field and stop anyone’s group from claiming the high ground.”

“Because we’ll own it,” Malcom smiled proudly.

“I’m not sure if I like it,” Hermione pointed out.  “Like you said, it does appear to be a little totalitarian.  Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

“The problem we have, Hermione,” Gruoch said slowly, “is that the way things are running at the moment do not work, in any shape or form.  We have rampant corruption at every level of government.  All the major businesses are owned by a few old pure-blood families who use any means necessary to stifle invention and new ideas so that we can continue to make money.  We used to do it ourselves before we got involved in the Muggle world.  And what’s worse is that we are being left behind by the Muggles.  They have people in space, and us? Most wizards have problems even leaving the country.  The magical world itself is an anachronistic throwback to a feudal system.  We’re just looking at taking that to a new level and creating a council for the benefit of ourselves.  But, everyone around this table knows that you make the most money through a system of enlightened self-interest.  You make more money in the long run if everyone is pulling the same way and making things work together.”

“And that will be our legacy,” Pansy said eagerly.  “We’ll have set up a system for the ages that works, and as long as we are replaced by people who understand the same principles as we do, we can go down in history as the architects of a golden age.”

Hermione placed her head down on the table and banged it several times.  “I need time to think about this,” she said slowly.

“Take all the time you need,” Pansy said softly.  “We need you, and we don’t want you to change.”

“You don’t?” Hermione asked doubtfully.

“Absolutely not,” Malcom agreed.  “Having someone who questions us and forces us to think things through a lot harder and will ensure that we get things right.  Most of us are a little less concerned about the sheep.”

Hermione laughed softly. “Thanks, I think.”

“Moving on,” Harry said smoothly, “we need one more piece of misdirection for Voldemort.”  He paused and looked at Minerva.  “You might want to turn your professor ears off about now.”

Minerva smiled slightly.  “They have been turned off for quite some time,” she said.

“What have you got in mind?” Ginny asked.

“I think we need a messenger to tell Voldemort that we are preparing Hogwarts for his attack.  He’ll respond by getting ready to launch an attack at us, but he’ll take his time as he’ll want to make sure he gets it right.”

“Malfoy?” Pansy asked.

“Yep.  I think we need to send him to Voldemort and let him reveal all our secrets.  So we need to let him overhear us talking about our plans, which should be easy, and then do something to make him go over the edge so he has to go running to Voldemort.”

“Leave that to me, Ginny, and Daph,” Pansy said confidently.

“Not me?” Hermione asked.

Pansy shook her head, “You can help with the set up if you want, but I don’t think you’ll want to take part in the second.”

Gruoch groaned softly.  “I really don’t want to know.  Just be careful!”

“I will be,” Pansy said.  “Don’t worry.”

“When you say that,” Malcom sighed, “I really do begin to worry.”

There was some general laughter around the table, before they moved on to the next subject.

Harry arrived in Malcom’s office in the Ministry of Magic and sat down comfortably.  He was due to meet Croaker in a few minutes to talk to the Unspeakable’s friends before they met with the Aurors later.  Pansy and his friends were all having dinner together, and he was a little irritated to be missing it.

Malcom’s Floo opened, and Croaker stepped through.  “I hear you’ve started the revolution,” he said dryly.

Harry smiled.  “Maybe a little.  We had a change of plan this morning.  We’re going to need Paddy’s help; can you get in touch with him for me?”

“Why?”

Harry smiled as coldly as he could.  “Because I’ve got a spy in the Death Eaters, and as soon as we find out Voldemort’s location, we are going to attack.  I want Paddy and his group to help launch the attack and provide cover.”

Croaker whistled slowly.  “Have you heard of the SBS?”

Harry shook his head.

“Paddy’s a member; they’re the Navy’s Special Forces, and they are some of the toughest bastards in the world.  I think we can get Black Squad involved easily.”

“Black Squad?”

“They’re the counter-terrorist guys.”

Harry smiled.  “So, can you set up a meeting as soon as possible?  I’ll deal with talking to them; I just need them in a room.”

“Will do,” Croaker replied.  “And this will make your chat with my friends easier now as well.”

“Who are they?”

“The other Unspeakables.  They’re going to be wearing concealing charms, so you can’t recognise them.  Our rules say that we’re not allowed to help out with Domestic issues, so you’re asking them to break the law to help.”

Harry nodded slowly.  “Why not?”

“Domestic issues are the remit of the Aurors,” he explained.

“But you’re much better trained?”

“Originally, we were all trained the same,” Croaker said.  “But the Aurors were almost completely wiped out in the last war with Voldemort, and the new people never got back up to standard.”

“Okay,” Harry said, climbing to his feet.  “Shall we go?”

Croaker nodded.  “Your destination in the Floo is Omni Persicon 8.”

Harry threw some powder into the fire and stepped in.  As he tumbled through space, he wondered when he was going to get used to this method of travelling.

He appeared in a room that took the word nondescript to new levels.  It was grey – all the furnishings, all the fittings, even the paint.  Everything was grey.

In front of him were eight stationary figures all appearing as featureless blobs.  He squinted his eyes softly, but stopped as he started to see through their charms.  If they wanted their privacy so badly, he’d give that to them.  He sat at the front calmly and surveyed them slowly.

“What can I do for you?” Harry asked, a slight smile on his face.

“Why should we follow you?” the second one from the left asked.

“There is a prophecy that states that I am the only person alive who can kill Voldemort.  If I fail, he wins, and you all lose.”

“And,” Croaker added, “Harry has machinations in place to have Fudge replaced with someone he trusts and has given the promise that our jobs will be changed to how we want them.”

There was a general shuffling.  “I’m not sure that I’m happy following a teenager,” the third from the right pointed out.

“Why is it that it always comes down to a test?” Harry said with a slight smile.  “I’ve not really got time at the moment, so if you don’t mind…”  He launched himself out of the chair and across the room.  His chosen opponent reacted instantly, the nondescript body moving into a defensive position, but Harry had expected it – it was exactly the way Croaker responded the first few times they had fought, and he’d guessed it was how they were trained.

When you knew how someone was going to react before they did, it made the rest easy, and he simply asked, “Any more questions?” from his position behind the Unspeakable, his knife at his opponent’s throat.

“You taught him?” one of the other Unspeakables asked Croaker.

“I made him the best,” Croaker said proudly.

“Why didn’t you just tell us that?”

“You wouldn’t have believed me,” Croaker replied with a shrug.

“True.  So, basically, what do you want us for?”

“How much can I trust them?” Harry asked as he moved back to the front.

“I trust them,” Croaker said.  “They are the best of the Unspeakables.  The ones I don’t trust aren’t here.”

Harry nodded.  “Within the next week, I’m going to be launching an all out attack on Voldemort’s headquarters.  We should have superior numbers and some non-human allies.”

“Non-human?” a new Unspeakable asked.

“Acromantulas for an example,” Harry explained.

The Unspeakable whistled slowly.  “What did you do to get them on your side?”

“I did them a favour a few years ago.  And I promised them all the dead Death Eaters they could eat.”

Harry wasn’t sure exactly why, but he suddenly got the impression that a lot of them were smiling.  “I could also do with a couple of you helping Croaker over the next few days.”

“Doing what?”

“I’m putting Croaker in charge of the Aurors and making sure that they are ready for the battle.  I already know that a lot of them have tenuous loyalties, so we won’t be telling them much – apart from the fact that their idea of a Monday to Friday job is no longer acceptable.”

“I’ll help,” one of them offered.

“Me too,” the original Unspeakable to speak said.

“And the rest of us will be there for the battle,” the one on the far right said.  “It sounds like fun.”

“Excellent.  I’ll leave Croaker to arrange the details with you.  I’ll need you all to be ready with about an hour’s notice.”

“Can I ask how you are going to find out where to attack?”

Harry smiled apologetically.  “Sorry, there are some things that I am unwilling to divulge at this moment.”

“Good,” another Unspeakable grunted.  “Loose lips sink ships and all that.”

Harry nodded and stood, offering them a half-bow, before he turned and walked into the Floo, returning to Malcom’s office.

He was joined a few minutes later by Croaker and two now-unconcealed Unspeakables.

“This is Lauren Jones and Hywell Robertson,” Croaker introduced the two.

“Nice to meet you without the masks,” Harry smiled.

They smiled at him, and stood at parade rest, flanking Croaker.

“Okay,” Harry said.  “I need you to keep up the strong silent act when we go in there.  Let me do all the talking, as there may be some spies, and until I can get rid of them, I don’t want them knowing what is going on.  Croaker, I might use you for some object lessons.”

Croaker smiled coldly.

“Actually,” Harry said slowly.  “Are either of you two any good at healing spells?”

Hywell nodded.  “I’m a trained field paramedic.”

“Excellent.  Croaker, you can now break some bones.  Hywell, you can mend them.  There will be four girls with me; they’re not to be touched.”  He looked at his watch.  “And they should be here any minute.”

Croaker and the other Unspeakables moved to one side.  With immaculate timing, the Floo opened and Pansy, followed by Ginny, Daphne, and Hermione walked in.

“Kingsley should be coming by in a minute to let us know the Aurors are ready,” Pansy said.  “Dad told me that he arranged it this morning.  Some of the Aurors are not going to be happy to be working on a weekend.”

“Poor babies,” Hywell said dryly.  “As Harry apparently doesn’t know how to introduce us properly, I’ll do it myself.  I’m Hywell; this is Lauren.  We both work for Croaker.”

“Wait a second,” Harry interrupted.  “Work for Croaker?”

“You didn’t tell him?” Lauren smiled at Croaker.

“Never came up,” Croaker shrugged.  “I’m the senior Unspeakable,” he explained.  “I’m basically in charge of all the field agents.”

“Cool,” Pansy grinned.  “So how are we handling this meeting?”

“I’m going to be irritable,” Harry said with a smile.  “Croaker is going to hand out some object lessons, and when they are ready to listen, we’re going to let these three put them through their paces so that they are ready.  We can’t tell them why.”

“Are you really this calm, Harry?” Ginny asked.

Harry looked around the room slowly.  “No.  I’ve suddenly realised that by this time next week, this could all be over.”

“Good,” Daphne said with a grin.  “It means that you are still human.”

“True,” Hermione agreed.

“Croaker, Lauren, Hywell,” Harry said dryly.  “Meet my personal ego-busting squad.  The brunette closest to me is my gorgeous girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson.  The elegant blonde is Daphne Greengrass; the girl with the amazing hair and perfect skin is Ginny Weasley, and the other beautiful brunette is probably the smartest witch you’ll ever meet, the notorious Hermione Granger.”

The four girls blushed together, causing Harry to smile and look a little relieved that he could make them blush as well.

There was a knock on the door, and Kingsley’s bald head poked through it as it opened.  “I’ve got them ready for you,” he said.  “It’s going to be a tough crowd.”

Harry nodded.  “Whatever happens, don’t show any reaction,” he said to the girls.  After they had all nodded, he smiled at them.  “Ready?”  Hearing no dissenting voices, he led the way out of Malcom’s office and down the corridor to a large room with a padded floor.  In front of him were over a hundred Aurors, in various different outfits.  Most were lounging on the floor.

Harry walked to the front, still flanked by the others, and waited for the noise to die down.

It didn’t.

Harry sighed under his breath and cast a sonorous spell on his throat.

“Ten Shun,” he yelled at the top of his lungs.  “Line up, now!”

Most of the Aurors jumped to attention, a few more climbed to their feet slowly.  The rest didn’t stop their conversations.

“I take it you gentlemen on the floor think that you are too good to be here?” he inquired acidly.

“I ain’t listening to some punk kid,” an Auror with brown hair sneered from the floor.

“And you are?”

“Adams, Stephan Adams,” he drawled.

“Well, Mr Adams,” Harry said, his tone clipped.  “You’ve just volunteered to be an example.  Mr Croaker, would you mind demonstrating on him?”

“Of course not, Mr Potter,” Croaker said, an evil smile on his face.  The Unspeakable strolled straight toward the prone Auror, who scrambled to his feet.

“Wait a second,” Stephan protested, as he watched the implacable march of his opponent.

“Would a Death Eater wait a moment?” Harry asked.  “Would Voldemort?”

There was a collective gasp from the Aurors at the name, and Harry scowled.

Croaker’s wand jumped into his hand, and a second later, Stephan flew half way across the room and collided with a wall.  There was an audible crack as his left arm broke.

“Mr Robertson,” Harry said coldly.  “Will you fix his arm please?”  As Hywell walked over to the prone Auror, Harry looked around at the shocked Aurors.

“I believe I told you to be at attention,” he whispered, just loud enough to be heard.

There was a scramble of movement as every Auror snapped into place.

“That’s more like it,” Harry growled.  He walked to the side and turned, so he was facing everyone.  “Ms Weasley,” he said.  “How old are you?”

“Fifteen,” Ginny replied.

“Who are we fighting?”

“Voldemort,” Ginny said firmly.

“Ms Granger,” Harry continued.  “Are your parents wizards?”

“They are not,” Hermione said clearly.  “To use a pejorative, I am a Mudblood.”

“Who are we fighting?”

“Voldemort,” Hermione replied.

“Why look at that,” Harry said, walking back to the centre and facing the Aurors again.  We have a fifteen-year-old girl and a sixteen year old with Muggle parents both quite happy to say Voldemort.  Voldemort.  Voldemort.

“And look at you, the Wizard police, scared of three syllables.  Is it any wonder that the Wizarding world is in the state it is in?

“You,” he pointed to someone in the first row.  “What is your name?”

“Amanda Lampkin, sir!” she replied in a shout.

“Who are we fighting?”

She seemed to struggle with herself, and then in a voice that was almost a whisper, said, “Voldemort.”

“I can’t hear you,” Harry snapped.  “Who are we fighting?”

“Voldemort!” Amanda shouted.

Harry looked around theatrically.  “Look, no Voldemort.  People are saying his name, left, right, and centre, and he hasn’t appeared.  Imagine that.  So, to start with, anyone who can’t say Voldemort, leave now.  You are dismissed from your job.  The door is over there.”

He waited, but no one moved.  “Good, perhaps there is hope for the Aurors, after all.  Some years ago, the Aurors were as good as the Unspeakables.  However, this is no longer the case.”

“That’s not fair,” one of the Aurors shouted.

“Choose four of your best,” Harry said abruptly.  “In thirty seconds, I want the four you have chosen in front.”

The Aurors moved from attention and started an intense whispered conversation.

“Four, Harry?” Croaker whispered, sounding amused.

“You want me to make it challenging and go for eight?” Harry offered.

“No,” Croaker said dryly.

The four lined up were all large men, and from what Harry could tell, were pretty powerful as well.

“Gentlemen,” Harry addressed them.  “You are fighting for the jobs you obviously enjoy so much.  If you beat my representative, you will go back to your jobs as you have had them for the past fifteen years.”  He paused and smiled slowly.  “Mr Croaker, would you be as kind as to demonstrate just why the Unspeakables should also be known as the Untouchables?”

Croaker bowed formally to Harry.  “I would indeed, Mr Potter,” he grinned.

“Oh, Mr Croaker,” Harry smirked.  “No magic.”

Croaker started to smile and turned back to the Aurors.

The Aurors seemed to collectively inhale as they looked at the man in front of them.

“You may start when ready,” Harry said.

As Harry finished the word ready, Croaker started to move.  His left hand dug into his jacket and emerged with a vicious looking knife.  Without seeming to look, his hand flashed out and the knife rotated through the air, before going straight through the first Auror’s wand hand, leaving him on the floor, holding his hand in shock.

The other three Aurors now had their wands out and started to launch spells at Croaker.  Harry held up his own wand and cast a shield spell so that everyone on his side wouldn’t be hit.

Croaked launched himself into a dive and a roll and he came up in front of two of them.  His left knee shot out and into the Auror on the left’s stomach, while his right elbow smashed into the jaw of the Auror next to him. Two more quick movements left the two Aurors incapacitated.

Croaker grabbed one of them by his robes, and held him up while he approached the last Auror.

The remaining Auror cast several wild spells at Croaker, some of which hit the unconscious Auror he was using as a shield.

As Croaker got nearer, he threw his shield forward and darted around him.  A sickening crunch informed everyone that Croaker’s left foot had found his mark.

“Forty-four seconds,” Harry stated into the silence.  “Four of your best Aurors wiped out in forty-four seconds.”

He let the silence grow, as Hywell walked around, healing the Aurors and doing what he could to those he couldn’t heal.

“What is your job?” Harry asked softly.

“To uphold the law and protect the people,” Amanda said loudly.

“How are you doing your job when you don’t work weekends, when you are nothing but target practice for Death Eaters?”

“We’re not,” Amanda said, speaking for the group again.

“Do you want to be more?” Harry demanded.

“Yes,” Amanda said.

“All of you.  Do you want to be more?”

“Yes,” the Aurors said.

“I can’t hear you.  Do You Want To Be More!?”

“YES!” The Aurors roared.

“Good,” Harry smiled.  “There is hope for you after all.  You have the potential inside you to help us beat Voldemort.  To help us beat the Death Eaters.  To avenge the deaths of your colleagues.  We can teach you to fight.  We can teach you to win.  We can teach you to be able to wake up in the morning and look in the mirror with pride, knowing that you are an Auror.  That you are part of the team keeping people safe.  And that you are the best.  We can make you the best, and if you put the work in, you will be the best.”

The Aurors started to cheer.

“Fudge has given me carte blanche to make changes here, and change I will.  Consider the first an incentive scheme.  Anyone who passes the course that Mr Croaker and his two assistants put together will get a fifty percent pay rise.  If you are going to be the best, we will pay you as the best.”

The roar that followed his statement was the loudest yet.

“It will be hard work, but at the end, you will be able to face the Death Eaters and know that at the end of the fight, you will be able to defeat them!”

Harry held up his hand and waited for the noise to die down.  “Croaker, you’re in charge.”

“Thanks, Harry,” the Unspeakable replied cheerfully.  “I’ll give you a report tomorrow on the progress.”

“Excellent.  Hywell, Lauren, it was nice meeting you.”

He turned to the girls.  “I’ll see you back at Hogwarts?”

They nodded and gathered around Pansy, vanishing as she activated a Portkey.  Harry saluted the Aurors and vanished on the spot, to the shock of the Aurors.  He cast a spell quickly, and in the corner of the room, a Quick Quotes quill started to write silently.

“You can’t Apparate inside the Ministry,” Amanda gasped.  “The wards!”

“The normal rules do not apply to Mr Potter,” Croaker said firmly.  “I think we will start with defence.  Let’s see what your shields are like.  Line up.”

Harry smiled as the Aurors obeyed him instantly.  He’d taken a large gamble by telling Croaker not to use magic, but it had worked spectacularly.  It had impressed upon the Aurors that they weren’t nearly as good as they thought.  They weren’t as bad either, but he felt that they would work extra hard to make up for it.

He waved his hand and the Quill and parchment vanished.  He turned and moved toward Hogwarts, appearing in Dumbledore’s office.

“Harry?” Dumbledore asked as he looked up from the paperwork he was reading.

“I’ve just given the Aurors to Croaker to whip into shape,” Harry said casually as he dropped onto a couch.  Dobby appeared a second later with a large sandwich and a drink, vanishing again immediately afterward.

“Oh?” Dumbledore said as he leaned back slowly.

“And tomorrow, I’m going to be sending Draco Malfoy to Voldemort.  I need some misdirection done, and he’s volunteered.”

“He has?”

“Yeah, by being a supercilious, racist git for the past five years.”

“I still have hopes that he won’t become a Death Eater,” Dumbledore said quietly.

“Do you honestly believe that you can change his course?” Harry asked curiously.

“I have to believe,” Dumbledore said softly.  “There must be something inside him that is scared of Voldemort and doesn’t want to do it.”

“Possibly,” Harry grunted.  “But given the chance, he will take it in an instant.  Draco is delusional enough to believe that everything is about him.  He sees himself as Voldemort’s right hand man.  He’s a pure-blood and wears it like a cloak.  He can’t handle anything that interferes with his closed minded view.  He, in a microcosm, is exactly what is wrong with the Wizarding world.  He is exactly why it has been so stagnant over the past hundred years.  Where are the great advances? Where are the new spells?  They don’t exist.  Voldemort has done us a huge favour and grabbed all the arch-conservatives in one place.  Everyone who fears change and fears difference is with him.  Everyone who wants things to remain the same is there.  This fight isn’t me against Voldemort.  It’s not the Order against the Death Eaters.  It’s a fight for the future of the Wizarding world.  Voldemort has already lost.  Even if he wins the battle, he can never have what he wants.  The world is changing too fast around him; Muggles are too strong, too quick.  If he wins, every wizard loses.  But if we win, we can change things, we can make things better, and we can fix things.  We can bring innovation back to the Wizarding world.  We can bring back fairness, hope, and tolerance.  We will drag society into the Utopia we can provide.”

“That sounds very extreme, Harry,” Dumbledore said softly.  “What if people don’t want your Utopia?”

“Over the last twenty years, has the number of students entering Hogwarts gone up or down?”

“Down,” Dumbledore replied.

Harry shrugged expressively.  “How many years will it be until there are none?  A hundred?  Fifty?  Our population is in decline, and if we don’t do something now, it will be too late.”

Dumbledore frowned, looking like someone swallowing something unpleasant.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair and smiled slightly.  “Think about it,” he advised.  “And tell the professors to stay out of the way at breakfast tomorrow.”  He looked at his watch.  “I’ve got to get to the D.A. meeting,” he sighed.  “It’s times like this, I wish I could clone myself.”  With a nod to Dumbledore, he vanished.

Harry arrived outside the door to the Room of Requirement and took a deep breath.  He didn’t like the idea of lying to everyone, but it was the only way to keep a secret.  The more people that knew about it, the less secure it was.

He walked through their living room and into the training area.  He was quite amazed; it looked like the D.A. had doubled in size since the last meeting.  There were a fair number of Slytherins to one side, looking nervous, so he walked over to them first.

“Glad you could make it,” he smiled at Blaise.

“Yeah well, we can’t let the rest of the school have all the fun,” Blaise smiled.

Harry clapped him on the shoulder and walked to the front of the room where Pansy, Ginny, Hermione and Daphne were waiting for him.  “Have you eaten?” he asked them quietly.

They all nodded, so he turned to face the crowd of students.

“The Defence Association was set up last year to help us practice exactly that: the skills that can keep us alive when Death Eaters attack.  Every student who took part last year passed their O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts.  The skills we teach here will be valuable for the rest of your life.  This year, more than ever, it is vitally important that we work hard, we work together, and we become one as a school, not as four houses.  We will help you, but the drive to be the best you can be must come from deep inside you.  It must be fuelled by the knowledge that it could save your life, or your family’s lives.  If you don’t want to work or if you don’t want to learn, turn around and leave now.  We’re not going to force you.”  Harry paused and waited to see if anyone would take up his offer.  No one did.

“Excellent,” he smiled.  “So, why don’t we start with a little contest, just to get the blood moving, and so we can see what skill level you are at.  We’re going to have a duelling competition for all the new members. The standard school rules apply.  Last year’s D.A., members will be judging.  Hermione, can you pair people off?”

“Of course, Harry,” Hermione said moving next to him.  In her hand was the big book that all the new members had signed with the new anti-communication charm built in.  She started reading out names, and as a pair was announced, Harry nodded to a long-term member of the D.A. who went to invigilate.

When everyone was paired off, including Daphne and Pansy, Harry gave the command for them to start.

He stood at the front, pretending to watch everyone duel, but his main attention was on Pansy.  She was fighting a fifth year Slytherin he’d never seen before.  It was hard to hide a smile as he watched his girlfriend clumsily dodge the sort of curse that would normally have her laughing in contempt.  She tripped forward as she launched a woefully under-powered curse at him.

The fifth year dodged it easily and sent back a stunning charm that was going wide, till Pansy leaned into it.

“You’re out,” he heard Luna say quietly and he smiled.  He could always rely on Luna to understand things that others wouldn’t.  It was why he had picked her for that match, knowing that she had seen Pansy train.

“Bad luck,” he said a little loudly as Pansy walked over to him.

“I’ll do better next time,” Pansy sighed and hugged him, her face sad, but her eyes were laughing with him.

“Good work,” Harry nodded to the boy who had beaten Pansy, noticing the way his chest puffed out slightly at the praise.

In a way that didn’t really surprise him, the final duel was between two Slytherins; Blaise and Daphne.  As he watched them fight, he decided that he would continue the D.A. after defeating Voldemort.  Some of these students would make great Aurors, but more than that, it was giving them confidence – confidence they would need as his group shook the Wizarding world by the ankles and changed it.

“Congratulations, Blaise,” Harry said loudly when the boy won by dropping to the floor to avoid a nasty combination of hexes and shot his own out at the same time.  Daph hadn’t expected it and had been caught.

“Do I get a prize?” Blaise asked as he got back to his feet.

“What do you have in mind?” Harry asked.

“You.  In a duel,” Blaise grinned.

Pansy laughed softly.  “That’s not such a good idea,” she advised.

“I know,” Blaise replied.  “But I think everyone wants to see what Harry can do in a real duel, so I’m volunteering as a practice dummy.”

“No offence,” Pansy said dryly, “But you’d be about as effective as a practice dummy.  How about you have some help?”

“Pansy,” Harry said.

“Shush, honey,” Pansy interrupted him.  “Neville, Padma, Luna, Justin, why don’t you join Blaise?”

“Five of us?” Padma asked.  “Is he that good?”

“Better,” Pansy replied.  “But it will show you what he can do.  Harry, no wandless magic.”

Harry nodded and stepped off the small stage.  The students separated, leaving a circle where Harry stood opposite his five opponents.  He knew what Blaise was trying to do; it was actually pretty clever, and it made him adjust his thinking slightly.  He wanted to show the others that Harry had a chance against Voldemort.

He stood still, slowly sinking into his fighting mindset, blocking everything irrelevant to the duel out.  Once again, things started to turn grey.  He felt Pansy send him a quick mental thought of love, even as he shut that down.

Everything was still.

Nothing else existed but his opponents.

He didn’t hear the command to start, but he saw them start to move, and he moved himself.

As Croaker had earlier, he didn’t wait for them but launched himself forward as fast as he could.  He pulled his wand out, as if it had been in his hand all along, and launched a spell straight at Padma.  She didn’t even get the chance to raise her shield as the spell hit her, holding her in place and out of the duel.

Luna was reacting faster than he had thought she would, and cast a spell at him.  Unfortunately, he didn’t stop moving, and her spell hit Justin straight in the face.

That left three.  Luna fired another curse at him, but this time he simply cast a spell to reflect it back at her.  She ducked and dived over toward Neville and Blaise.  The three of them trained their wands at Harry.

He paused, evaluating the situation coldly.  Normally he would have a variety of curses he could use, but this wasn’t the time to make public the knowledge that he had curses that were as effective as the Cruciatus.

In a repeating pattern, his three opponents started to cast spells at him.  The first few he used a shield spell to absorb, before he decided to take out Blaise next.  With a wave of his wand, his shield vanished and he started to move again.

The spells seemed to be moving in slow motion as he ducked and dodged his way through them, till he grabbed Blaise’s arm and twisted it carefully, applying just the right amount of force to send the boy crashing to the floor.  A quick spell left him immobile.

He looked up, diving to the right automatically as a couple of curses fizzled through the space he’d just vacated.

There were just two left now.  He’d never stayed in fight mode this long before, and he was starting to find it difficult to remain in it.  He’d been moving too fast, and his body was trying to tell him that.

As Neville launched a fresh curse at him, he decided to try something different.  He took a step forward and jumped over the curse, thrusting his wand down into the curse, and moving his arm, so that the curse traced a semi-circle in the air, and flew straight toward Luna.

Luna just blinked as the curse hit her, her face registering mild surprise at what he had done.

Harry landed in a tight shoulder roll and came up in front of Neville.  Harry’s left hand redirected Neville’s wand, as his wand rested between Neville’s eyes.

“Yield?”  he asked softly, as the room abruptly returned to normal in a violent rush that made him want to vomit.

Neville nodded slowly, his face pale.

Hermione, Ginny, and the other D.A. members quickly helped the others back to their feet, cancelling the curses, as Harry returned to the small stage and stood next to Pansy.

She wormed her way into his arms, standing in front of him and holding him tightly.  It looked like she was resting against him, but she was actually holding him up.

Blaise was the first person to break the unnatural silence.  “This was why I joined,” he said loudly, obviously addressing the rest of the D.A..  “To learn from the best.  He just took out five of us, and he’s not even breathing hard.  This is what I aspire to.  I’ve seen Death Eaters, and I can’t wait until the next time I see them.  Because I will see what Death Eaters look like scared.  I will see them frightened.  I will see them face Harry and realise with their last breath that they made a mistake and followed the wrong person.  I wanted to see what Harry could do.  I thought I might be a little disappointed. That he couldn’t live up to the rumours.  Well, screw the rumours.  The reality is a hundred times more impressive.”

“At the next meeting,” Hermione said, “we’ll start to train properly.  Feel free to bring along anyone else who wants to join.”

The students started to talk among themselves as they filed out, leaving only Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Pansy, and Daphne.  Blaise was the last to leave, and he paused at the door and looked back, shaking his head.

“Tell me one thing,” he asked.  “Were you holding back?”

Harry nodded slowly.

Blaise grinned.  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” and he vanished out the door.

Harry groaned and rested against Pansy.  She took a step back for a second as she tried to hold him up, but a second later he felt another pair of arms around him, and he was gently lowered to the ground by Pansy and Ginny.

“He’s exhausted,” Pansy said quietly.  “He’s never been in that hyper-extended state of his for so long before.  It’s normally only useful for short periods, but because he couldn’t use most of his curses, he had to rely on the speed to make it so impressive.”

Hermione shook her head softly.  “That was pretty amazing; I didn’t really realise just how seriously you had been trained, even with Croaker’s demonstration earlier.”

Pansy smiled slightly.  “Harry pushed himself harder than you can believe,” she said quietly.  “He did it to protect us.  Now, help me get him up and into the living room, Gin.  Daph, can you get a blanket for him?  Hermione, can you talk to Dobby about getting some hot chocolate and a snack?”

Pansy sighed softly and lightly stroked Harry’s forehead.  He was having a quick nap to try to regain some of his strength.  Ginny was sitting on the floor next to them, as close as she could be, while reading one of her textbooks.

Hermione and Daphne were at the table, talking in a low voice as they poured over some tomes that were so thick they needed magic to lift them.

Sometimes, she forgot that he was only a teenager.  That he was barely sixteen.  His mannerisms and attitude were that of an adult, not an insecure teenager.  It was only when he pushed himself so hard that it showed.

He’d tried to describe the hyper-extended state he was able to sink into a few times, but she hadn’t really grasped it till she’d gone into his mind with him and seen it.  It was somehow pure – all its focus on defeating the enemy.

The state itself was pretty benign; it was just concentration.  But it was when he moved that the problems started.  The human body was simply not meant to move that fast, and certainly not for a sustained period of more than a few seconds.  It took so much energy and willpower to do it.

But one thing Harry Potter had never lacked was willpower.

There had been an almost visible feeling of hope in the air as the students had walked out, talking amongst themselves.

More importantly, Draco would hear about it.  It was what they wanted.  For Voldemort to get a little scared that Harry would be his equal and prepare the attack as soon as he could.

It was a dangerous game they were playing, but the risks were worth it; as were the rewards.

She had reluctantly admitted to herself that her plans for doing more than sleeping with Harry were going to have to wait, what with them seriously planning for the final battle; they were both going to be too tired to do things properly.  Neither of them wanted a quick screw.  They wanted to do it properly, and she wasn’t going to rush – neither was he – even if they might not get the chance.  She knew deep inside herself that if Harry died, she might not, but no one would ever replace him in her heart.

She lightly ran her fingers over his scar, marvelling that it could have once been the source of so much torment for him, and she wondered once more why he wasn’t taught Occlumency at an earlier age.  Still, with the damage Snape had done, it was probably a good thing.

She felt Harry wake and smiled.  “Hey,” she whispered.

“Hey,” he said back, a little huskily.  He turned and smiled at the girl sat near them.  “Thanks for helping, Ginny,” he said softly.

Ginny just turned and smiled radiantly at both of them.

Harry sat up and stretched.  He looked at his watch and sighed.  “Accio Marauder’s Map,” he said quietly.  “As much as I want to go to bed and sleep for a week, we need to sow some seeds with Draco.  It looks like he’s on Prefect Patrol tonight.  Pansy, do you know his path?”

“Yes,” Pansy said, sitting next to him.  She traced it on the map.

“Okay,” Harry nodded.  “It looks like this classroom will be perfect for an impromptu meeting between us.  You guys are going to have to sneak down there under my Invisibility Cloak.  Daph, I think you’re going to have to stay behind, as it can probably only fit Pansy, Hermione, and Ginny because she’s smaller.”

“I hate logic,” Daphne grumbled.  “And I’ll want a full report when you get back!”

Harry smiled gratefully at her.  “I’ll meet you all down there,” he said and vanished.

Pansy walked into their bedroom and pulled out Harry’s Invisibility Cloak.  She carried it back into their living room and looked at the other two girls.  “I take it I’m the only one here with little experience in this.”

Ginny and Hermione smiled and moved next to her.  “Just follow our lead,” Hermione said softly.

“Like when dancing,” Ginny added.  “Just relax and let us worry about everything else.  You don’t grow up with Fred and George without learning a thing or two about sneaking.”

“I’ll bet,” Pansy said dryly.

The journey down was uneventful, except when they had to freeze as Draco, accompanied, as always, by his Neanderthalian bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle, walked past them.

With a relieved sigh, they entered the classroom to find that Harry had conjured four chairs, and he was sitting in one comfortably, the map in his hand.

They sat down near him and waited silently while Harry watched the map intently.

“It’s not bloody fair,” he said loudly.  “Dumbledore won’t listen to me – he seems to know whatever is going on during the day.”

“We shouldn’t be out so late,” Hermione said, her voice was as loud as Harry’s.

Harry sighed audibly.  “It doesn’t matter,” he stated.  “In four weeks’ time this place will be impenetrable.  Voldemort can attack all he likes and he won’t get anywhere.  And we only have to hold out for two more weeks after that, and then the prophecy will kick in.”

“It’s about time you told us about the prophecy,” Ginny said.  “We fought in the Ministry for it.”

“It’s simple,” Harry said cheerfully.  “I can’t remember the exact quote, but the general gist is that at the moment, Voldemort will kill me the next time we meet.”  He paused as the three girls gasped in unison.  “But, if I can hold out for another six weeks, it changes, and I’ll kill him.

“Voldemort was supposed to find the prophecy, but he failed.  So he’ll continue to hide wherever he is, unaware that his doom is sneaking up on him.”

“Perfect,” Pansy laughed.  “It’s a good job he doesn’t know.”

“Yeah,” Harry said.  “Do you hear something?”

There was a sound of footsteps trying to be stealthy outside, and they waited for a minute until Harry, who was still watching the map, gave the signal, and they started to laugh.

“I can’t believe he fell for that,” Hermione said, wiping her eyes.  “It was so childish!”

“I know,” Pansy agreed.  “But Draco has all the sophistication of a three year old.  It told him everything he wanted to hear.  I’ll bet he goes to sleep tonight dreaming of the praise Voldemort will give him.”

Harry nodded and yawned.  “Let’s go back to our rooms,” he said.  “We do have lessons tomorrow.”

Hermione stood and nodded.  “Cloak?”

“Nah,” Harry shrugged.  “No one’s going to give us detention, so why bother?”

Hermione pouted.  “But sneaking and breaking the rules is half the fun.”

“Hermione!” Harry said, looking shocked.

Hermione just smiled a little smile and kissed him on the cheek.  “Don’t ever change, Harry.”

She looped her arm in Pansy’s and Ginny’s, and they walked off together, leaving Harry scratching his head in bewilderment.

“Go for a run, then pop home for a shower, and then have breakfast,” Pansy said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I wish you’d tell me what you have planned.”

“A girl has to have some secrets, Harry,” Pansy said softly.  “Now scoot.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her and then walked out the door.

Pansy shut the door firmly and turned to the three girls.  “Any idea what I have planned?”

Daphne pursed her lips slowly and looked directly into Pansy’s eyes.  “I have an inkling; does it mean I get to do what I think I do?”

“Can you handle it?”

“Sure,” Daphne grinned.  “I’ve been dying of curiosity for some time now.”

“Ahhh,” Hermione interrupted.  “So that’s why you don’t want me involved.”

“It’s because of Ron,” Pansy explained.  “Do you really think that he would be happy seeing that?”

Hermione sucked her lower lip as she thought.  “No, damn it.  You and Harry have given him warning after warning, so we’ll consider this a test.  Let’s see what happens.”

“Are you sure?” Pansy asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said decisively.  “Having me there will add to the effect.”

“What are we planning?” Ginny asked.  “I’m a little lost.”

“Draco has never shied away from giving his opinion.  He’s stated a few times that he’d like to ‘show the Mudblood what a pureblood can do.’”

“Eww,” Ginny muttered.

“Think how I feel,” Hermione agreed.  “I’ve felt his eyes on me a time or two.”  She shuddered.  “I normally had to have a shower shortly afterward.”

“He also has inferred that with a bit of attention and a bit of cash, you’d fall for his charms as well,” Pansy said to Ginny.

“Tell me the bloody plan,” Ginny said, her eyes flashing.  “Castration is sounding really good about now.”

Pansy laughed.  She shrugged off her dressing gown and walked over to the table, dressed only in her knickers.  She pulled on a shirt, but instead of doing the buttons up, she simply tied it in a knot under her breasts, leaving most of her stomach bare.  Next came a flared skirt which was so short it showed nearly all of her legs.  “I’ve got it charmed to keep it down,” she explained with a slight smile.  She bent and pulled on some white ankle socks, followed by some black heels.  She finished the outfit with one of Harry’s ties.

“How do I look?”

“Like you just stepped out of every fantasy every boy in this school has ever had,” Daphne said.

Ginny nodded in agreement.  “And some of the girls,” she murmured, before blushing.

“I wouldn’t do this for just anyone,” Hermione sighed.  “A thousand feminists are probably turning in their graves about now.  But it is for a good cause.”  She reached around her back and undid her bra under her shirt.  A few contortions later, and she dumped it on the table.  She quickly undid the buttons of her shirt and tied it up like Pansy had.  She grabbed her wand and shrunk her own skirt till it was the same length.  “Can you do the charm?” she asked.

“Of course,” Pansy smiled and pulled her own wand out.  She whispered under her breath and pointed at the skirt.  “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Hermione smiled.  “I’ve got some heels in my room.”

“So we’re all going to look like this?” Ginny asked.

“And we’re going to walk into the Great Hall at breakfast, and we’re all going to snog the hell out of my boyfriend.”

Ginny’s eyes went wide.  “And everyone is going to think the worst,” she said softly.  “And Draco will go absolutely insane seeing Harry get everything he wants,” she added with a pleased look.

“Yes,” Pansy agreed.

“You are completely and totally evil,” Ginny whispered.  “And I think I love you.”

Pansy laughed and hugged her for a second.  “Going to take part?”

“Try and stop me,” Ginny grinned, undoing the buttons on her shirt.  “I knew I should have worn a normal bra” she said as she turned her back on them and quickly pulled off her shirt and sports bra, before putting the shirt back on and tying it up the same way as Pansy and Hermione.

“Can one of you shrink my skirt?” she asked.  “My clothing charms have never been that good.”

Pansy nodded and quickly cast a couple of spells.  “There you go.  You know, you might find that you get more unwanted attention after this.”

“I know,” Ginny nodded.  “But you and Harry will protect me.”

“Always,” Pansy promised.  She turned to look at Daphne, who had cast her own spells, and was ready.

“What size shoe are you, Ginny?” Pansy asked.

“Three.”

Pansy moved into her room and picked up her spare pair of black heels, shrinking them a couple of sizes.  “Have you worn heels before?”

“A few times,” Ginny said.  “What are we going to do if anyone takes photos?”

“I dunno, charge a licensing fee?  Hex the idiot?  I guess in the end, I’ll leave it to Harry to deal with.  I’m going to walk in first with you three flanking me.  I’m going to kiss him, and at the same time tell him to relax and just go with the flow.  I know my boyfriend, and he’d try and talk us out of this.  If we present him with a fait accompli , he’ll play along.”

“It must be nice having a boyfriend you can allow three other girls to kiss, knowing that he’ll not read anything into it, other than a way to annoy Draco,” Daphne sighed.  “Still, at least I get to satisfy my curiosity.”

Pansy smiled.  “It will be fun,” she said confidently.  “Hermione, Ginny, do you know how to strut?”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

Pansy walked to the far side of the room and then turned.  She walked toward them deliberately, one foot moving directly in front of the other.  She had a sultry expression on her face, as she moved her arms and shoulders in unison.  Her chest bounced a little with each step.  “Strut,” she grinned.  “You try.”

Pansy watched as Ginny and Hermione tried to imitate her walk.  “Put your shoulders back a little, Hermione.  Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are a lot sexier than I thought.  Have confidence in yourself.”

Hermione straightened her back and look directly forward, a small smile on her face.

“That’s more like it,” Pansy cheered.  “Ginny, don’t look at your feet; they’re not going anywhere.  Head back, like the other day when you walked into the Hall.  You’ve got a great new haircut, and anyone who sees you like this will never think of little Ginny Weasley again.”

Ginny smiled and put her head back, imitating Hermione perfectly.

“Brilliant,” Pansy smiled.  “Okay, let’s put on some make-up.”

Harry sat at the table and finished his breakfast when Dobby appeared suddenly and handed him a mint and a note.  The elf winked at him and vanished again, and he suddenly got a feeling of unease.

He opened the note quickly and smiled in relief.

H,

I’m in, safe, and a nice elf has already introduced himself and promised to help.

More later.

Hugs ‘N Kisses (or there would be if I wasn’t scared of your girlfriend)

NT.

He folded the note absently and tucked it into his trouser pocket.  It was good to know she was safe and in; he just hoped that she wouldn’t have to be in there for too long.  The sooner this ended the better.

He tilted his head to one side.  He could feel Pansy was excited, very much so, and he suddenly worried about just where his girlfriend’s flair for the dramatic was going to take them.  He thought about warning Ron, who was sitting on the other side of Seamus, but he decided not to.

The door to the Great Hall flew open with a bang that attracted the attention of everyone, including the Professors.

The attention was followed by am audible gasp – one he joined in on, as he watched the four girls stand in the doorway.  He almost missed the spell that Pansy cast, but saw the effects a second later as a strong breeze blew against them, causing their long hair to fly dramatically behind them.

All around him, he could see two reactions.  Most of the boys and some of the girls too, were looking at them with pure teenage lust.  The rest of the girls had extremely jealous looks on their faces.

Pansy strutted forward, flanked by a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead, and he knew, without a doubt what she had planned.

He opened his mind a little and heard her telling him to relax and just go with it.  He sighed; he should have thought of this earlier and put a stop to it.  But it was too late now, and judging by the look on Draco’s face, it was going to work.

The uniforms they were wearing would give everyone at the Ministry a collective coronary.  Either from outrage or desire, he wasn’t sure which.

Pansy led the way, always the ringleader.  Her skirt was probably the shortest of the four, and her legs seemed endless before they vanished under a skirt that, in some cultures, would be classified as a belt.  Her stomach was smooth with just the faintest outline of the muscles she had developed visible under the skin.

The way her chest bounced with each and every step showed clearly that she was bra-less and wasn’t ashamed of it in any way.  She had a challenging look on her face as she stared at him, as if she was personally daring anyone to stand up to her.

Daphne was to her right.  The tall blonde, made taller by the black heels she was wearing, had a confident strut to her walk, as if she had accepted that she was going to be stared at and was now determined to make sure that people would never forget her.  Her skirt was a little longer than Pansy’s, but to almost compensate, her shirt was tighter, revealing the shape of the breasts Draco had drooled over for several years.

As much as it pained him to admit that Draco was right about anything, Daphne did have an amazing set.

Next to her, and behind Pansy, was Ginny.  He didn’t think that anyone, ever, would ignore her again.  He’d been attracted to her for over a year now, and when she looked like this, he had a tiny pang that he would never get together with her.

Her long red hair flowed like liquid fire down her back, emphasising both the white shirt – that showed that she, while not quite as developed as Daphne, certainly had nothing to complain about – and her pale skin.

While Daphne and Pansy were suntanned, Ginny had some amazingly translucent skin that seemed to glow in the light streaming into the Great Hall.  And judging by some of the awed faces around him, some of the boys were currently kicking themselves for overlooking her.  Just because she was more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt didn’t mean that Ginny couldn’t polish up as well as any other girl in the school.

Hermione was the biggest surprise – the fact that she was even taking part in this was the first, and just how good she looked was the second.  It was an almost uncomfortable moment for him, as he admitted that his old friend had grown up in ways that he hadn’t really noticed.

He’d never seen her move like this – she was moving the same way as the others. It made him think about just how lucky he had been to have her as a friend, and how well she understood him and his moods that she would dress to ensure that he felt comfortable, as much as she dressed for herself and for Ron.

He was a little shocked at just how beautiful she was.  The promise that had been evident when Viktor had taken her to the Yule Ball had been completely fulfilled.

Pansy paused in front of him, and he stood.  She reached up and kissed him thoroughly, mentally telling him once more to go with the flow.

She stepped to one side, and Hermione stepped up.  “I wouldn’t do this for just anyone,” she whispered softly.  “But you know I love you,” she finished.  She leaned in and kissed him as Pansy had.

Kissing Hermione was very different to kissing Pansy.  There was a familiarity to it, but nowhere near as much passion, as if they were just friends exchanging an intimate moment and nothing more.

She pulled back and lightly brushed his hair back, before moving to the other side.

Daphne slinked forward and hugged him, whispering, “I’ve wanted to do this since I met you,” in a wicked tone.  She kissed him harder than the other two girls, her tongue delving deeply into his mouth.

He kissed her back, matching her, knowing that he would never do it again.

“It was as good as I hoped,” she whispered, as she moved next to Hermione.

Ginny moved up to him last, and for a second, he was aware of just how absolutely silent the Great Hall was.  He could see Draco’s face was changing to some interesting shades of red.

Ginny kissed him as hard as Daphne had.  There was a curious innocence to her kiss, with a longing and desperation that went right through him.  He closed his arms around her, lifting her onto her toes and he kissed her back as if she was his girlfriend, and not because his girlfriend had told him to.

She pulled back eventually and looked at him, her dark brown eyes peering into his, searching for something, although he didn’t know what, before nodding slowly and moving next to Pansy.

He could see the four girls as they all looked at Draco and smirked at him – sending the same message: that Harry had all of what he would never get.

“Harlots!” Draco yelled, almost incoherent with rage; as he pulled his wand and pointed it at them, but Harry was already moving.  His hand dipped into his pocket, flicking off the catch for his knife, and pulled it out.

“Cruc…”  Draco started, before yelling in absolute pain as Harry’s knife impaled his hand.

He fell to his knees with a wail of agony, pulling the knife out and dropping it on the floor.  He stared at his bleeding hand and stumbled to his feet.

“You’ll die for this, Potter!” he half screamed.  “You and your whores.  I’ll make you all suffer.  Just you wait.  I hate you, and I curse you for eternity.”  Draco stumbled to the door after picking up his wand, and he stumbled out and onto the grounds of Hogwarts.

Harry walked over calmly and picked up his knife.  With a casual contempt, he wiped it clean on Crabbe’s robes.  He took a long look at the two boys, who looked at each other and then lurched to their feet, following Draco.

“Anyone else going home to Voldemort?” Harry demanded.

No one else moved.

Pansy started to giggle, and a few seconds later, she started to laugh.  “I thought he was going to have a stroke,” she spluttered.

“It was beautiful,” Hermione agreed.  “I’ve never seen that particular shade of red before.  If we’d only been able to dye his hair, he’d have looked like a tomato.”

Daphne laughed and shook her head.  “I think that was fitting revenge for all the years worth of torture he put us through, Pansy.”

“And for thinking he can buy me,” Ginny muttered through her teeth.  “Good riddance to bad Death Eater spawn,” she grinned.  “Daddy,” she said, doing a pretty good impersonation of Draco’s whining voice.  “I saw all the girls I fancy kissing Potter, so I lost my head, tried to cast an Unforgivable, and Potter cut my hand, so I ran away crying like a little girl.”

Hermione, Pansy, and Daphne laughed even harder.  “I hope he says that to Voldemort,” Pansy gasped.  “Imagine how pleased he’d be to lose a spy at Hogwarts for something so obviously set up.”

“Wait,” Seamus interrupted.  “This was a set up?”  His eyes were wide with surprise and awe.

“Of course,” Pansy smirked.  “Revenge and all that.”

“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” Seamus mumbled.

“Well, that and some of us really wanted to kiss Harry,” Daphne said cheerfully, ignoring Seamus’ second comment.  “And this looked like it was going to be the only chance we’d ever get.”

“At least Draco didn’t know anything about our plans,” Pansy grinned.

“True,” Hermione nodded.  She hugged Harry briefly.  “Friends?” she asked softly.

Harry looked down at her and recognised the fear in her eyes– that she thought she might have hurt their friendship.  “Always,” he said simply.

Harry finished his breakfast alone; the four girls had vanished to change into less revealing clothes, and all around the room, low voices were talking about what they had seen.  He could feel some jealous looks from most of the other boys (and a few of the girls, surprisingly), but he ignored them.

They had no idea what it was like being him and they never would.  All they saw was the public side; never the side that had to send a close friend into a situation where one wrong slip – literally, in her case – could be the end of her life.

They would never know the loneliness of command, of being responsible for launching an attack directly at the enemy.  They would never know the deep-seated fear that they might have ordered someone to their death.

He groaned suddenly as he realised he hadn’t actually remembered to tell Dumbledore what had happened since they had last talked.

He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and scrawled a quick message on it.

Albus,

Can you please arrange an Order meeting for tonight?  Things have changed, and you and everyone else needs to know what is going on.

H.

He cast a spell and watched as the paper floated over to Dumbledore.  The Headmaster read it, and then nodded solemnly.

Harry smiled and stood, walking out toward the door.

Hermione sighed softly and sat in her favourite chair, waiting.  She had an hour free before lunch and knew that Ron did as well, and that she was going to have to talk to him.

She didn’t know what was going to happen, and perhaps even worse, didn’t know which way she wanted it to go.

Kissing Harry earlier was not something she regretted at all.  In a way, it had settled her mind with him.  She loved him; completely, but not as a romantic partner.  They just didn’t have the spark between them for it to ignite.  But what she did know was that they would have their incredible friendship for the rest of their lives.

It gave her a warm glow to think about it, but also an inkling of what the problem was going to be with Ron.

The door to the Room of Requirement opened a few minutes later, and Ron walked in and sat opposite her.

She looked at him quietly.  He was good-looking, tall, and when he actually used his brain, quite intelligent.

She met his eyes and waited.  He was going to have to make the first move because she still wasn’t sure she was going to forgive him for what he had done.  Harry already had, Ginny had, and Pansy was reserving judgement.

It had been Daphne who had really surprised her, as she had talked about psychology, and how Ron’s childhood had affected him in different ways.  She had underestimated the blonde and now enjoyed working with her on some pretty esoteric research ideas.

“I’ve been thinking,” Ron said with a slight smile.  “All it took was being thrown across the room by someone six inches shorter than me and then having piercing grey eyes stare into mine to do it.”

Hermione nodded, tilting her head a little to one side as she listened.

“And then I watched you this morning.  You were beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Ron nodded.  “It helped me make a decision.  I didn’t lose my temper when I saw what you were going to do, and I actually thought it through.  Sure, I was jealous of Harry; I think everyone there was.  But I knew Pansy had put you up to it because Harry wouldn’t even think of messing with Draco’s head like that.

“And I watched you kiss him.  I know what you’re like, and I knew that you both enjoyed the kiss, but that was it, and it rammed home the problem I have.  Hermione, I am very sorry for ignoring you.  If I had listened, I wouldn’t be in this place I am now.  But in a way, I think we’re both glad it happened.  It brought what we’ve both avoided to a head.  I love you, I really do, but I don’t think we should go out anymore.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, willing herself not to react in any way.

“Because you can’t give me what I need,” Ron said simply.  “I want and need someone who will be mine and mine alone, and you will never be able to do that.  There is a part of you that belongs to Harry and always will.

“It’s the same for me.  A part of me will always belong to him as well.”

Hermione nodded slowly.  He was right, which wasn’t really a surprise; whenever he used his brain, he usually was.

“So where do we go from here?” she asked, smiling at him.

“Well,” Ron said, a smile appearing on his face, “The first thing to do is for you to persuade Harry that I haven’t hurt you again.”

Hermione laughed softly.  “Good idea,” she said.  “Where does this leave us, Ron?”

“As friends?” he asked hopefully.

She smiled and stood, opening her arms to him.  He moved into her, and she hugged him tightly and then gently kissed his cheek.  “I do love you, Ronald Weasley.”

“I know,” he said.  “I love you too, but this is the best way for us to keep that friendship.”

She nodded and released him, sitting back down on the couch.  “So, who have you got in mind?”

“I just broke up with one of the hottest witches at school, I didn’t exactly have a backup plan,” Ron said with a slight grin and a rueful shrug.

“Have you thought about Hannah?”

“Hannah?” Ron asked, sounding surprised.

“I think she’d be good for you,” Hermione smiled.  “She’s intelligent enough to be a Ravenclaw but has the loyalty of a Hufflepuff.  I think she’d understand that a part of you will always belong to Harry.”

“I hadn’t thought of her,” he said.  “And I certainly didn’t expect to be talking about this with you.”

Hermione nodded.  “Daphne did everything she could to make me want to stay with you,” she explained.  “And I did think about it, but I came to the same conclusion you did.  You’d always be jealous of the fact that Harry’s got a piece of my heart, that he’s my family.  And in the end, it would tear us apart, and it would hurt you a lot more than me.”

“Literally,” he grinned his agreement.  “Because Harry would let me know in person how disappointed he was.  I didn’t expect you to make friends with Pansy so well either.  You’re even talking like her.”

“I know,” Hermione agreed.  “She understands my relationship with Harry – and how important it is to both of us – and she’s happy about it.  When I realised just how genuine she was about wanting Harry to be happy, I couldn’t resent her anymore.

“She’s put an amazing amount of effort into making friends with me and Ginny, an effort she didn’t have to do.  But she decided it’s the best way for her to get what she wants – a happy partner, Voldemort dead, and all her dreams come true.  It’s a very mature attitude.”

“What about Ginny?”

“What about her?”

“Why?  I mean, I don’t think she’s torturing her or anything, but it’s well, weird.”

“It is different, but Pansy sees something in Ginny, something that none of us ever bothered to look for, and she’s as protective of her as she is of Harry.  And Ginny is happier than I’ve ever seen her.  You know that Voldemort was left in her mind from the diary?”

Ron nodded.

“Harry and Pansy showed Ginny how to defeat him; they went into her mind and helped her out.  Can you imagine what it must have been like?  She had lived for so long with that tainting her existence, and then her friends saved her with that casual elegance and grace with which they do everything?  Harry has always been Ginny’s White Knight, and now Pansy is her Grey Queen.  Have you noticed the changes in your sister?”

“You mean the way she’s got that same self-confidence as they do now? The way that she seems at peace?  Yeah.  I still remember everything we went through after the diary, and I never thought I’d see her like this.  Of course, we also thought that Voldemort was gone.  Ginny is a lot happier than I’ve seen her in a long time, but it’s weird that it’s Pansy Parkinson that’s responsible.  The same Pansy that helped torment us for years.

“That was part of my problem, you know? I couldn’t get away from what happened in the past.  I have now.  It is the past.  Realising that far from Pansy hurting us, it was me that was hurting everyone that was unpleasant,” he smiled slightly.  “You know what Harry said to me that night?”

“That all you had to do was ask?” Hermione asked.

“Exactly.  Simple, isn’t it.  He also said a few more things that rammed home the truth.  You know, hearing that Harry was dying at those Muggles’ was just kinda what I expected, you know?  I never thought about how bad it was for him, or what it’s like to be like that.  He’s the hero, so of course bad things happen to him.  I guess I forgot that Harry Potter is also my best friend, Harry.  Well, never again.”

“Good,” Hermione said cheerfully.  “So, who are you apologising to next?”

“Ginny,” Ron said decisively.  “Can you talk to Harry at the same time?”

“I will,” she promised.  “Ginny should be coming out of class in a few minutes; why don’t you go meet her?”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Ron said as he got to his feet.  “Are you sure about Hannah?”

“Don’t mistake her loyalty for softness, Ron.  She has a core of steel inside her, and she’ll need it, just as the person I fall for someday will need to be strong.”

Ron nodded and grinned.  “Of course,” he grinned.  “He’d have to be barmy too.”

Hermione laughed and threw a pillow at him.  As Ron left, she clicked her fingers and called for Dobby.

“You rang?” Dobby asked.

“Do you know where that comes from?” Hermione asked curiously.

Dobby stiffened his limbs and lumbered about slowly making a low grumbling sound.

Hermione laughed and clapped her hands.

The house-elf grinned and bowed cheerfully.

“Can you find Harry for me?  I need a quiet chat with him.”

“Dobby would be delighted,” he said as he nodded and vanished with a click.

Hermione started to countdown from ten.  She had only reached four when Harry arrived.

“What’s up?” he asked, sitting next to her.

“Ron and I just agreed to break up,” she said.  “And before you jump to conclusions, it was amicable and mutual.”

Harry froze, and with a visible effort, he relaxed.  “Why?” he asked simply.

“Because a part of me will always belong to you,” she said.  “Just as a part of Ron will.  We both need to find our own Pansy, because we can’t be that for each other.”

Harry sighed softly.  “I wondered how soon you’d realise it – I’ve been dreading it for most of the summer.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Hermione said, shifting so she could sit against him.  “I’ve already suggested Hannah for Ron, and he’s intrigued.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll find someone, Harry, but I’m not in any rush.  You have to remember that I was raised as a normal Muggle.  I have more human expectations of my life, and I probably won’t find anyone for years, and I’m happy with that.  No one will get in the way of my studying and my learning, and then when I’m ready, I’ll find someone who will love me and accept that I love you.”

Harry wrapped his arms around her.  “Did you ever think we’d be having conversations like this last year?”

“Never,” Hermione said promptly, relaxing against him.  “Last year if I’d even mentioned the word love it would have taken you a week to stop running.”

“Hey,” Harry protested, but she could feel him laughing.  “It would have been at least two.  I would have had to stop and sulk for a bit as well.”

“I do prefer you as you are now,” Hermione admitted.

“I do as well,” he said.  “I would never have been comfortable sitting with you like this before Pansy, but now I am.  I think I’ve finally accepted that touching people you love is good for you.”

“It is,” Hermione agreed.  “But we need to talk to Pansy to ensure that she doesn’t get the wrong end of the stick and do something permanent to Ron.”

“She’s on her way up here, but she’s going to take it slowly to give us time.”  He paused for a few seconds, “I asked Dumbledore to arrange an Order meeting for tonight; we need to tell them about the plan.”

“I looked at him, you know.”

“Dumbledore?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“He’s old.”

She felt Harry nod against her.  “He is.  Very old and very tired.  He always appeared so indomitable growing up.  But things have changed, and he’s been holding on for so many years.”

“The pressure he must have been under…”

“It was immense, and I think it made him start to believe in his own publicity.  You know, I wonder why he never married, because I think he wouldn’t have made half the decisions he did if he’d understood human emotions properly.”

She twisted a little to look at Harry.  “You think he really didn’t know better?”

“Not that he didn’t know,” Harry clarified, “but that he didn’t understand.  He knew that my childhood was bad, but he didn’t really understand, and because of that, he continued to do what he thought was best.”

Hermione exhaled slowly.  “What are you going to do?”

“Marginalise him,” Harry said softly.  “I already have.  It’s not about revenge; it’s more about me not trusting him not to make another strange decision because he thinks its right.  He might know it – I don’t know.  But I know that he will be happy when he can finally be just the headmaster, when all the pressure is gone, because I think then we will see the return of the slightly barmy Professor Dumbledore that we loved in our first year.”

She shifted again, relaxing once more.  “Are you so very sure of yourself?”

“No,” he admitted.  “But unless someone else can come up with something better…”

“They won’t,” Hermione said.  “I’ve thought about what you said yesterday, and while I do have some reservations about Malcom and Gruoch, I suspect they will vanish as I get to know them better.  I stayed up late last night, and flipped through Hogwarts: A History, and I found out that you were right.  Every century there was something big – an improvement in Magical Theory or Practice that made everyone’s life better.  Apart from this one, that is – the one that has been dominated by two Dark Lords.  And any culture that stagnates is going to die.

“Our world needs a kick, Harry, and there’s no one in the world I would trust more than you to do it.”

Harry smiled and hugged her again.  They sat in companionable silence until Pansy walked in and smiled at them.

“First you kiss my boyfriend, and then I find you two canoodling on the couch?” Pansy cried dramatically.

Hermione poked her tongue out at the girl.

“Is that an invitation?” Pansy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Pansy!” Hermione said, feeling herself blush.

Pansy grinned and dropped down onto the floor in front of them.  “So, apart from stealing my seat on my boyfriend, what happened?”

“Ron apologised, we made friends and decided to go our separate ways as we can’t give each other what we need.”

Pansy nodded.  “So you’re saying I don’t get to hurt him?”

“‘Fraid not.”

“Meany,” Pansy pouted.  “Okay, once he’s apologised to Harry, he’s forgiven and can join in.  Harry really does need more male friends.”

“I know,” Hermione agreed.

“I am here, you know,” Harry protested.

“I know,” she said, hearing Pansy echo her at the same time.

“So,” Hermione said, shifting out of Harry’s arms and reaching down to pull Pansy up and onto his lap.  She sat at the other end of the couch and smiled as Pansy immediately snuggled into Harry’s chest.  “What’s the plan for the Order meeting tonight?”

“Ginny, can we talk?”

Ginny looked up at her brother and studied him carefully.  “In here,” she said, turning around and walking back into the classroom.

McGonagall looked at them and smiled.  The professor turned and walked into her office, shutting the door firmly.

Ginny hopped up onto the desk and swung her feet.  “So talk.”

“I’m sorry,” Ron said.  “I chose to drink too much, and the more I did, the clearer I thought I was thinking.  I’m not offering an excuse, just an explanation.

“I was jealous; of Harry, of you, of everyone.”

“Of me?” Ginny asked, feeling surprised.

“You managed to make friends with Harry’s new girlfriend instantly.  And you were so accepting of his actions.  I hated Harry for not wanting you, and I wanted you to fight.”

“Fight what?”

“Exactly,” Ron sighed.  “What was there for you to fight?  Harry loves Pansy.  Harry pointed it out to me quite firmly.  You are nothing like what I said; I just wanted to provoke you into fighting for him.”

“Not a good way to do it,” Ginny pointed out.

“I know,” Ron agreed.  “What did Pansy say to you?”

Ginny shook her head softly.  “That’s between me and her, and it will remain that way.”

“Okay,” he said.  “I broke up with Hermione.”

“Oh, Ron,” Ginny sighed.  “Why?”

“It was the best for both of us.”

“Really?” Ginny asked doubtfully.

“Really,” Ron confirmed.  “Hermione agrees and she is hopefully now talking to Harry and Pansy so they don’t hex me on sight.”

Ginny shook her head sadly, privately convinced that Ron and Hermione would be good for each other.  “So where do we go from here?”

“I stop trying to run your life,” Ron offered.  “I stop being jealous of you for making friends with my best friend.  And I stop jumping to conclusions about everything.”

“It’s not the jumping I mind, Ron,” Ginny said.  “It’s the judgement that goes with it.  I have no idea what is going on in some aspects of my life, none of us do, but I’m enjoying it all the same, and I want to continue doing that.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird though? Being so close to Pansy and Harry.”

“From an outsider’s perspective, probably, but I’m not on the outside, I’m inside the biggest thing to hit the Wizarding world in centuries.  All I know is that I’m having a lot of fun, and I’m at peace.  I feel like Pansy’s been my friend forever, and she is my friend, you know? Someone who chose to befriend me because she likes me, and not because of who I am or who I know.”

Ron nodded.  “I do love you, Ginny.  And you looked amazing this morning.”

“Thank you.  I never doubted that you love me, Ron.  I just couldn’t stand how you chose to show it.”

“I’m trying,” he smiled.

“You’ve always been trying,” Ginny grinned.

“Thanks,” he groaned, rolling his eyes.  “So, friends again?”

“We never weren’t.  You might be a big, heavy-handed git at times, but you are always my brother.”

Ron smiled and took a few steps forward, and she slid off the table and hugged him briefly.

“So, you’ve got to talk to Pansy next?”

“Yeah, I think I should apologise to her before Harry.”

“Good plan,” Ginny agreed.  “Come on, they’re in the Room of Requirement.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do,” Ginny said and walked out the door.  She didn’t think he needed to know that she could feel them, and she was pretty sure that they could feel her as well.

She walked through the school, noticing that people smiled at her a lot more these days.  Mentally, she was calling it the Pansy effect.  She’d always been happier in jeans than a dress; it was a natural response to having grown up with six brothers.  But now she was being taught how to be a girl by a couple of experts, and it was definitely a lot of fun.

She walked into the Room of Requirement and smiled at the couch.

Pansy climbed to her feet and grabbed her hand, pushing her down onto Harry’s lap.  “Keep my spot warm,” she grinned.

Ginny shook her head and laughed as she landed on Harry.

“Come on, Ron,” Pansy said.  “I’m willing to listen.”

“And not hex me?” Ron asked in mock-surprise.

“That’s not decided yet,” she said as she grinned, and led Ron into the bedroom she shared with Harry.

“So, is everything alright?” Harry asked.

“Yep,” Ginny smiled.  “For now.  We’ll see what happens next time.”

“You think there will be a next time?”

“I hope not.  But he is being smart about it for a change, and that’s a good sign.”

“He is?”

“Yeah, he’s apologising to all of us before you.  You’d not listen to him while we were upset with him.”

“True,” Harry agreed.  “I asked Albus to call an Order meeting tonight.”

“Oh, are we gonna let them into our plan?”

“Yep.”

“Good idea.  Most of them can fight.”

“That’s what I thought,” Harry agreed.  “Hermione, did you talk to Remus yesterday?”

“Yes, I did,” Hermione replied cheerfully.  “We’ve got a few ideas to start his campaign with.”

“Like what?” Harry asked.

“Oh, something simple like ‘Remus Lupin - Policies for Understanding, Caring and Equality.’”

“P.U.C.E?” Harry groaned as he pronounced the acronym.

“Yes,” Hermione grinned.  “It’s what you wanted isn’t it?”

“I guess,” Harry said doubtfully.

Ginny could feel him holding in the laughter, so she poked him firmly.  “Don’t worry, he likes it,” she assured Hermione.

“I know,” Hermione grinned.  “Malcom’s going to send a Portkey for me tomorrow, to go to his office after class.  Remus and I are going to meet with some of the press to announce his candidacy.”

“Good,” Harry smiled.

Pansy walked out of the bedroom and over to the couch.  “Right. Ginny, up. Harry, bedroom.”

Ginny stood and watched as Harry stood and walked into the bedroom.  Pansy dropped down into the place Harry had vacated.  “Sit,” she said.

Ginny smiled and sat as she had with Harry.

“So,” Pansy smiled.  “What are we gossiping about?”

Hermione and Ginny laughed.  “PUCE,” Ginny said with a slight lisp.

“Puce?” Pansy asked.  “Do I really want to know?”

Harry walked into his bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed he shared with Pansy.

“Do we need to do this?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said with a grin.  “I’m scared of your girlfriend.”

“We could always lie and say we did,” Harry replied.

“Nah, I need to say it anyway.  You were right; I should have just asked.”

“I don’t mind teaching you.”

“You wouldn’t,” Ron agreed.  “The problems were mine, not yours.  Hermione explain everything?”

Harry nodded.  “It’s why your jaw is still in one piece,” he laughed.

“I thought so.  I’m sorry.”

“I like what Ginny said,” Harry said.  “If you don’t do it again, you’re forgiven.”

“You heard that?”

“Yeah,” Harry shrugged.  “I was in the doorway.”

“I didn’t see you.”

“I was being still,” Harry said dryly.  “So, we’ve apologised.  Is there anything else?”

“Yeah,” Ron said.  “We need to do that hugging thing.”

Harry laughed and rolled to his feet.  “I’m glad you apologised to everyone,” he said simply.  “It makes it easier for me.”

“I know,” Ron replied.  “It’s why I did it.”  He moved forward and hugged Harry briefly.

“Right, when we tell the girls later, we can say we had a big fight.  Now, sit down and I’ll bring you up to date on what’s happened recently.”

When he had finished, Ron whistled slowly.

“This is going to be a lot of fun,” he grinned.  “Does Pansy have any ideas for Malfoy Manor?”

“She wants to turn it into a Muggle Hotel.”

“You know, I really should like that girl; she’s just so creative.”

“I noticed that myself.”

“Right,” Ron snorted.  “And I’ll bet that’s all you noticed.”

“Not even close, Ron; not even close.”

After their classes in the afternoon, they all decided to have dinner together in their living room.  No one really felt like going to the Great Hall and dealing with anyone else.

“The meeting is at seven,” Harry said, leaning back in his chair.

“What’s the plan?” Ron asked.

“Keep it simple, I think,” Harry replied.  “We walk in, I explain what is going on, we answer any questions, we come back here and do a bit of training.”

“And that’s the bit Harry likes most,” Pansy grinned.

“Shush, you,” Harry smiled at her.

“Is anyone else going to be there?” Hermione asked.

“You mean Malcom and Gruoch? No, they’re both running interference at the Ministry, gathering support for Remus and irritating the elder Malfoy.”

“They do seem to be working hard,” Ginny said.

“Mum and Dad enjoy it,” Pansy said.  “It keeps them occupied and they have a lot of fun.  Dad will be stern and imposing, while Mum will be wandering around like a wisp, winning people over without them noticing.”

“It does kinda make me realise what I missed,” Ron sighed.  “Hearing you talk about people I’ve never met as if they were old friends.”

“We know them through Harry,” Hermione said.  “And they are impressive in person.  They’re adults, but they’ve spent a lot of time with Muggles, so they’re not really eccentric like a lot of magical adults are.”

“Weird,” Ron said, a teasing grin on his face.

Pansy poked her tongue out at him.

Ron shook his head and laughed.

Harry looked at his watch.  “Okay, let’s go down there.  I hate waiting for things when I could be doing something more interesting.”

They trooped out of the Room of Requirement and down toward the headmaster’s office.

As they turned a corner, a water balloon filled with a blue liquid flew past Harry and hit Ginny.

Ginny squeaked as the balloon exploded on her, coating her, and spraying Ron, Hermione, and Daphne.

“Peeves,” Harry growled.

“Go get him,” Pansy commanded, as she pulled her wand out and moved toward Ginny.

Harry raised his hand fast and cast a spell at Peeves.

“Oh Potter, you rotter, you’ve got the magical ability of a brain-dead otter,” Peeves sang as he danced around the hallway.

Harry paused for a second and then threw both hands forward, two spells erupting from his fists, spiralling toward the Poltergeist.

The ghost dodged the first but was hit by the second; he fell to the ground.

“Peeves,” Harry said as he stalked forward.  “You are going to learn a very important lesson.  You do not touch my family!”

“What are you going to do with me?” Peeves demanded fearlessly.

“Simple,” Harry smirked.  He whispered under his breath, pointing his wand at the immobile ghost.

Peeves started to scream, as his body changed colour and lost its translucency.

“The spell will last a week,” Harry said tiredly.

“What have you done to me?” Peeves screeched.

“Made you somewhat human,” Harry replied flatly.  “If I were you I’d go and start apologising to the house-elves, because you’re going to get hungry soon.”

“You can’t do this to me,” the non-ghost raved.

“I already have,” Harry said as he shrugged and turned around.  He suddenly noticed that a lot of students and quite a few ghosts were staring at him in shock.

“The easiest way to get on my bad side is to touch my family,” he announced quietly.  “Don’t do it.”

“You’ve changed,” Padma accused him.  “You’re not the same person.”

Harry shrugged.  “One day you’ll understand.  But today is not that day.”

He walked over to Ginny.  “Are you okay?”

“It was only water,” Ginny explained.  “I should have ducked.  It was just a shock – the water was cold.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Daphne said with a small grin.  “It would have hit me otherwise,” she said, casting a drying charm on her friend.

“Come on,” Harry said as he put one arm around Ginny.  “Let’s go.”

Pansy moved next to the other side of Ginny and put an arm around her as well, and the three of them continued toward their original destination.

Harry whispered the password, and they ascended the stairs.  They walked through the office quickly and into the meeting room of the Order of the Phoenix.  Everyone was there, but this time there were extra seats at the opposite end of Dumbledore.

Harry sat at the end, Pansy and Ginny flanking him on each side, the others moving on down.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said.  “I believe you asked me to call this meeting for a reason.”

Harry waved his hand casually, and the door slammed shut. “What is he doing here?”

“Severus is still a member of the Order.”

“Stupefy ,” Harry said, his wand in his hand, pointing directly at the ex-Potions Professor, who flew back against the wall and then slumped into unconsciousness.

“You might trust him; I don’t,” Harry grunted unapologetically.

“I think I might love you, Potter,” Mad-Eye Moody said.

“Sorry, he’s taken,” Pansy grinned.

Mad-Eye grinned.  “I’ve been telling Albus that if he doesn’t like someone, he should just deal with it and be done with it for some time.”

Harry nodded at the ex-Auror.

“Okay, let’s cut to the chase,” Harry said as he stood at the end of the desk.  “I’ve taken control of the Aurors and put the Unspeakables in charge of getting their training up to scratch.  Tomorrow, Hermione and Remus will be announcing his candidacy for Minister of Magic.  It’s going to look like a publicity stunt to start with, but it will distract Voldemort.  If you’re interested, I will be removing Fudge and the other Candidate before the election, so that Remus is elected.

“Earlier today I sent a message to Voldemort, using Draco Malfoy.  We fed him a steaming pile of bullcrap that impressed the hell out of him but wouldn’t fool anyone with two brain cells to rub together.  Luckily, Lucius Malfoy had the family brain cells today.  Voldemort will believe him because by the time Draco tells the story, it will be an adventure of daring-do and spying that will make him seem like the greatest spy since Mata Hari, except she had better legs.

“The message I gave him was that the Prophecy states that Voldemort has six weeks to confront me.  If he does, he wins and I lose.  If he waits longer, then I’ll win and he’ll lose.  I also told Draco that Hogwarts is planning for the invasion, and that our defences will be complete in four weeks’ time.”

White Knight, Grey Queen

8 - Finishing (part 2)

There was a stunned silence around the room.

“Brass, I think, and heavy, very heavy,” George said slowly, breaking the unnatural silence.

“And that’s why he always has Pansy and Ginny with him; he needs other people to carry them around for him,” Fred exclaimed softly, as if he’d just discovered the secret of life.

“What on earth are you two talking about?” Molly asked.  She sounded vaguely reluctant to ask the question, as if she knew that she wouldn’t like the answer.

“Harry’s balls,” Fred said innocently.  “Because they must be as big as a house and made of brass.”

Harry laughed and shook his head.

“Wait a second,” Elphias Doge wheezed.  “That means that Voldemort is going to gather everyone and launch an attack here.  What have you done?”  His voice was outraged.

“Are you insane?” Hestia Jones demanded, interrupting before Harry could respond.  “Think of all the children that your wild stories are going to kill.”

Harry sighed audibly.  “Do you really think that’s my plan?  Make the enemy attack and put everyone in danger?  How nice.

“Albus, what would you expect his snakiness to be doing around now?”

“Voldemort will call all of his Death Eaters and allies in for a meeting and will tell them to prepare to attack Hogwarts.”

“All of his Death Eaters? Including a certain spy?”

“Sweet Merlin,” Charlie Weasley gasped suddenly.  “It’s a bloody diversion, all of it, isn’t it?”

“Moody’s right,” Fred said.  “Harry, I want your children!”

“I keep telling you, he’s taken,” Pansy laughed.

“Oh man, this is going to be awesome,” George said, standing and doing a little dance.  “How long do we have?”

“Not long.”

“We’ll drop everything.  We’ll be ready, fearless leader.  All these years, and you just wander in and drop it in our lap.”

“Would someone mind telling me what is going on?” Sturgis Podmore demanded.  “Some of us are not psychic!”

“Or intelligent,” Mad-Eye grunted with a look of disgust on his face.  “Mind if I tell them?”

“Go ahead,” Harry said, sitting down.

“Think,” Mad-eye snorted as he stood.  “Distraction one: The ministry.  Distraction two: The attack at Hogwarts.  Voldemort will gather all his forces, including the spy Harry sent there last time we met.  The spy will then tell us where they all are.  And when they are least expecting it, we’ll attack the lot of them.”

“And wipe them out,” Pansy said coldly.  “None of the half-heartedness of the past; this ends now, once and for all.”

“Good girlfriend you’ve got there, Potter,” Mad-Eye said as cheerfully as anyone could remember.  “Don’t lose her.”

“I have no intention of doing so,” Harry agreed.

“Attack them?” Emmeline Vance gasped in shock.  “But what about the creatures he has?  The giants?  And there are more Death Eaters than us.  We’ll be slaughtered.”

“Pay attention, Emm,” Mad-Eye snapped.  “First thing Potter said.  He’s taken control of the Aurors.  They will all be there as well; we’ll out number them.”

“Exactly,” Harry agreed.

“But what about the Giants and the other creatures?”

Harry smirked.  “Remus?”

“We have the werewolves,” the soon-to-be-candidate said in his quiet way.  “After Harry blocked the Werewolf Act, he made a lot of friends with my people.  And after he got Fudge to change the law so I could run, the rest joined.”

“And,” Harry continued smoothly.  “I called in a favour, and I arranged for an ally for us as well.”

“Who?”

“The Acromantulas.  And I suspect they will bring some friends.  Aragog likes me.”

Mad-Eye clapped his hands together loudly.  “So everyone gets together, we surprise them and start showing Death Eaters some poetic justice.”

“What have you got in mind to stop them Apparating away?” Molly Weasley asked.

“Malcom’s buying up a lot of wards through different channels.”

“That’s going to be expensive,” Mundungus Fletcher whistled.

Harry shrugged.  “It’s only money.  If we win, we’ll get it all back and more.  If we lose, we’re not going to care.”

“Might I enquire as to how you are going to get the wards in place?” Sturgis asked acidly.

“House-elves,” Harry said.

“House-elves?” Dumbledore interrupted, sounding a little surprised.  “They’ve never been willing to help before.”

“The Elf Council has promised me its support.  You should know, though, that after we defeat Voldemort the elves are going to announce their secession from their slavery and will start to work for me and Malcom under the management of Hermione.”

At the far end of the table, Dumbledore slumped back down into his chair, a look of shock on his face.

Bill whistled slowly.  “You have been busy,” he said admiringly.  “And you’re planning a revolution.”

“The Wizarding world has stagnated for far too long.  We’re going to usher in a new era,” Pansy stated firmly.

“Harry,” George asked.  “Are there any more surprises for tonight?”

“No,” Harry smiled.

“In that case,” Fred said.  “We need to get to work.  We’ll do as much as we can for as long as we can.  When we’re ready to attack, every toy we’ve thought of will be ready for use.”

Harry nodded.  “Thanks.  I’ll pop by and see you later; there is something else you’ll have to know, but it’s not something I can talk about here.”

Fred and George stood up and walked out, a visible bounce in their step.

“More secrets?” Sturgis asked.

“Of course,” Harry shrugged.  “You know what you need to know at the moment, and I don’t want to promise what I can’t deliver.  So, are you going to be joining in on the fight?”

Most of the people on the table seemed to look at Albus at once.

“I think,” the headmaster said slowly “that you are taking an awfully big risk, Harry.  Why?”

Harry climbed to his feet again and rested his hands on the table.  He slowly looked up at headmaster.  “Because I am tired of seeing people I love die.  Because I am tired of the endless pointless battles that get us nowhere.  Because I want to spend the next few years having fun and enjoying myself.  Because I will not watch the Death Eaters terrorise normal people when I could be doing something about it.  Because I am the only one who can kill Voldemort, and I have the ability to do so.  I will not have more deaths, more pain, more fear on my conscience, because I did not act when I could. I have no choice; I have to fight Voldemort.  So I will not sit here and let him pick the time and the place.  I will pick where we fight.  I will pick when we fight.  And I will come at him with superior force and do everything I can to wipe him out.  The prophecy states that neither of us can live while the other survives,” Harry said softly.  “And that’s much more literal than I first thought.  I can’t spend the time I want to with my girlfriend and my friends.  I can’t have fun, relax, or even go out for ice cream while he’s alive.  I want to live my life, and I’m not prepared to wait for years, hiding while others fight my fight.  I know what it’s like to have no life growing up, and I don’t ever want to go back to it.  Voldemort is in the way.  He has been in the way for far too long.  It’s time to end this.”

Harry sat down again and watched the shocked silence.

In a low voice, Pansy recited the Prophecy.  “It’s true,” she said simply at the end.  “Harry has to kill Voldemort.”

Albus sighed deeply.  “I said I would follow you, and while I never expected this, my promise holds true.  This has gone on too long.”

“All right!” Charlie said, jumping to his feet and showing that he was related to the twins by doing a small dance on the spot.  “We finally get to do something worthwhile!”

“Get ourselves killed,” Mundungus groaned.  “You’re insane, Potter.  And I must be as well, because I agree.  Let’s do it.”

School was quiet the next day, and they all waited impatiently for the evening, even Hermione.  The prospect of starting an election campaign was more exciting than learning, but only by a little.

Croaker had passed a message through Malcom, who had included a couple of Portkeys – one to Lympstone and one to the Ministry of Magic.

After attending classes, and after eating together in the Room of Requirement, they sat around on the couches, waiting for six o’clock.

“Pansy,” Harry said thoughtfully.  “I think you should go with Hermione – Daph and Ron, you, too.  I want to take Ginny with me.”

“Why Ginny?” Daphne asked.

Harry turned to Ginny, “Show her that ‘I’ve been bad, but look how innocent I am’ smile of yours.”

Ginny turned and lowered her head, and then looked up, peering at Daphne through her eyelashes and smiled cutely.

“Do I sign over everything I own to her now?” Daphne asked. “Or is it better to wait a few days?”

Ginny laughed and settled back down.

“That’s why,” Harry grinned.  “I need someone who can look like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.”

“Why?” Ron asked.  “I mean, they’re army blokes, right?”

Harry smirked.  “Believe me, it’s best you don’t know beforehand.”

“Does anyone trust him when he smirks like that?” Hermione asked.

“We do,” Pansy and Ginny said together.

“How do you two do that?” Ron asked.  “Talk like you’re twins or something.”

Pansy shrugged, “Probably something to do with great minds thinking alike.”

“Great minds?” Daphne asked dryly.

Pansy poked her tongue out at her.  “I hate this waiting,” she said, abruptly changing the subject.

Harry looked at his watch and shrugged.  “Go early then, and introduce Ron to Malcom and Gruoch.”

“Ooo, good idea,” Pansy praised, jumping to her feet.  She grabbed the Portkey from the table and kissed Harry.

“Look after him,” she said to Ginny.

“I will,” Ginny promised.

“I know.  Come on everyone; let’s get going.”

Harry and Ginny watched as the others vanished with the Portkey.

“Should I ask what you are going to do to me?”

Harry smiled.  “I need a quick demonstration of what wizards can do.  They already know what Pansy can do, but they are not going to believe me when I tell them how powerful you are.  All you have to do is stand there with a shield spell already cast.  I’m going to try and break it.”

“You can break my spell, though,” Ginny pointed out logically.

“I won’t be using magic.”

“Oh, okay,” Ginny smiled.  “What should I expect from them?”

“A few wolf whistles and the like,” Harry admitted.  “But that should stop when I tell them you’re only fifteen.”

Ginny smiled, “Not that I look it anymore.  This hair cut is amazing.”

“I agree,” Harry smiled.  “Come on, let’s go meet them.”

He took Ginny’s hand and activated the Portkey.  There was the usual tug at his navel as they sped through space, arriving in an office in Lympstone, where Paddy and Croaker were waiting for them.

“Paddy, this is Ginny Weasley,” Harry introduced her.  “Ginny, this is Paddy, my physical training instructor over the summer.”

“Hi,” Ginny said, offering her hand.

Paddy took it.  “My God, you’re tiny,” he said peering down.

“Maybe,” Ginny shrugged.  “Tell me, do you have different weather up there?”

Paddy laughed.  “But not a pushover.”

“Pay attention to the hair,” Harry advised.  “Anyway, what’s going to happen tonight?”

“I’ve got a group in the mess room waiting for you,” Croaker said.  “They’re under my command for the duration.”

“How did you manage that?” Harry asked curiously.

“I’m a commandant; I just asked,” Croaker said innocently.  “And the admiral might just owe me a favour or six.”

“As always,” Harry grinned.  “Ginny, cast a shield spell now.  Oh, Croaker, Paddy, don’t flinch when I start my demonstration.”

Croaker groaned loudly.  “Another one?”

“It’s the quickest way,” Harry said, shrugging carelessly.

Paddy led them through a hallway and into a large mess room.  In four rows of five sat twenty men.  They were all dressed in a nondescript black uniform and stood to attention as Croaker entered first.

“At ease,” Croaker said.  “Most of you were around when Mr Potter here smashed the course record, were you not?”

“Aye, sir,” one of the sailors said, “and when he kicked your arse in a knife fight.”

“I was hoping we could forget that,” Croaker sighed.

“Not bloody likely,” another one snorted.  “Impaling himself on a knife so he could disarm an opponent isn’t something we’re going to forget in a hurry.”

Harry walked over to the front of the mess table.  “I think,” Harry said slowly, “that I’ll start with a demonstration.  It might make what I’m about to say easier to believe.  Can I borrow someone’s gun?”

One of the Marines looked at Croaker, who nodded.  The Marine un-holstered his gun and passed it to Harry.

Harry looked it over; it was a Browning 9mm, a standard issue for the SBS.  He clicked the safety off and pointed it directly at Ginny.

“Err, what are you doing, sir?” one of the Marines asked nervously.

“Remember what I told you earlier, Ginny?” Harry asked.

She smiled softly at him, an expression of absolute trust on her face.

Harry took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

The heavy gun jerked in his hand, as the 9mm bullet went from a standing start to travelling at over a thousand feet per second.  There was a crack and a shout from the Marines.

An instant later, there was a soft tinkle as the now deformed bullet fell to ground in front of Ginny.

“What The Fucking Hell Just Happened!?” one of Marines shouted.  “She should be dead.”

“What is this, some sort of trick?” another asked.

“Sit down!” Croaker yelled.  “And shut up.  You might learn something.”

Harry walked over and hugged Ginny.  “Nice work,” he whispered.

“Just wait till I tell Pansy that you took a shot at me,” Ginny whispered back teasingly.

Harry winked at her and sat on the desk in front of the Marines.

“What you have just seen is a practical display of magic.”

The sounds of disbelief that would have normally met such an announcement were tempered by the fact the Marines had just seen Harry fire a large gun at a very small and very innocent looking girl, without any harm befalling her.

There were still many looks of shock visible on most of the faces.

“You don’t appear shocked, sir,” one of them said to Croaker.

Croaker pulled out his wand and casually created himself a chair.  “I’m a wizard,” he said simply.

“Paddy?” another one asked.

“No, I’m not a wizard,” Paddy sighed.  “My parents were though.  I’m normal.”

“And is he a wizard?” he asked Paddy, indicating Harry.

“I don’t know what the term for Harry is,” Paddy laughed softly.

“Wizard,” Harry said bluntly.  “To get back on track here, though, you’re probably wondering exactly why we are telling you that magic exists.”

“Damn right.”

“Please save your questions to the end,” Harry said.  “The Wizarding world is all around you, a hidden society that co-exists in the same land, but it is completely separate.  We use illusions to hide that we exist.  For countless centuries, since before the time of the Romans, we have been separate.

“However, we have a problem.  A major one.  A wizard named Tom Riddle grew up in a normal orphanage; and unfortunately, he was abused.  This left him with an absolute hatred of everyone.  Unlike most lunatics with a grudge, he is also one of the most powerful wizards alive.  He started to try and take control of the Wizarding world, so that he could rule it with an iron fist. And he did it through a campaign of murder and terror, somewhat similar to the IRA, but with the intention of killing more innocent people and less political targets, and with the goal of taking absolute control.  He’s surrounded himself with an army of pure-bloods, who called themselves Death Eaters.  They are responsible for the killings and acts of terrorism.  His first reign of terror ended around fifteen years ago when he first tried to kill me and failed.  I was a baby at the time.  My mother cast an ancient spell on me to protect me and sacrificed her life so that I might live.”

There was a visible shifting in the audience, as they all leant forward and paid closer attention.

“The spell he used to try and kill me is normally fatal.  In this case, it backfired and hit him.  Unfortunately, Riddle didn’t die; instead he became a wraith.  The Wizarding world, in one of the most remarkable acts of self-delusion ever seen, convinced themselves that he was gone – never to return.  Over the next eleven years he started to regain his power – slowly – while I was growing up.”

“In a bloody unpleasant place,” Paddy interrupted.  “Remember that fuss about two parents confessing to abusing their nephew – who was never found?”

“Dursleys,” One of them spat.  “Yeah, it was all over the papers.”

“Meet the nephew.”

Harry shrugged.  “Over the next few years, I guess you could say that Riddle and I engaged in a series of running battles.”

“Wait a second; you were fighting him when you were eleven?”

Harry nodded.  “He was co-inhabiting a body with one my professors at the time.  He was trying to steal an object hidden at my school that would have given him the immortality he craves.  So, along with two friends, we went to stop him.  We bypassed the traps meant to protect the item.”

“By the way, I’m Stephan,” the talkative one said with a nod.  “Let me see if I have this straight.  Your school was hiding a key to immortality that a wraith of a terrorist was after, and they secured it so well that a couple of eleven year olds could get to it and prevent this wraith from getting it?”

Harry nodded.

“Right.  Not impressed with this world of yours so far.”

“You’re not going to like it much better when he tells the rest of the story,” Paddy grunted.

Harry smiled slightly and launched into an abridged version of the battles he had had with Voldemort, and the deaths he had seen.  He finished with a run down of the training he had received over the summer.

“So,” Harry said, absently pulling his wand out and conjuring a bottle of water.  “We finally get to the point.  After years of little battles which left too many civilians dead, I now have everything in place to launch an attack on him and wipe him out for good.”

Stephan smiled coldly.  “And where do we come in?”

“Perimeter control and taking out some of the creatures.  As I demonstrated with Ginny, a wizard can easily cast a spell to block a bullet.  It can weaken them, though, but that’s not going to be your major focus.  There will probably be all sorts of creatures that you thought were myths with them, from manticores to harpies.  These can be killed by bullets.

“It’s going to be pretty easy for you to tell who’s who, because everyone on our side will be wearing a charm that you will be able to see.  Just shoot anything or anyone else.

“The main fight will be between my people and the Death Eaters.  They will be dressed completely in black and they are the terrorists.

“One of our allies will be giant spiders, and by giant, I mean human size.  I agreed to let them take care of the remains of the Death Eaters, so don’t be surprised if they start taking corpses off the field.”

“I like the plan,” Stephan grunted.  “Get them all together, kill them all, and go out for a massive party.  There is going to be a party afterward, right?”

“Of course,” Croaker smiled.  “And as a special treat, I’ll introduce you to firewhiskey.  A drink so strong that steam literally comes out of your ears.”

There was a general grumble of approval from the Marines.

“I want your help partly to defeat Riddle – and by the way, he likes to go by the name of Voldemort.”

“Flight of Death?” one of them asked.  “Pretentious git.”

Ginny laughed softly.  “That describes him very well.”

Harry shot her a quick grin.  “Anyway, I want your help not just because you are valuable, but because the rest of the Wizarding world needs to realise that you are just as strong as they are.  For far too long our culture has stagnated in a period of self-congratulatory fervour, convinced that we are the top of the tree.  We’re not, by a long way.  But most wizards don’t care enough to find out – even the ones with normal parents.  When Riddle is dead, I will be having someone I trust elected as our Prime Minister, and we are going to push the Wizarding world forward, perhaps even toward integrating our societies in the future.  There are a lot of opportunities for magic and technology to combine; we just have to get our people ready for it, and at the same time, work out how to do it without destroying the basic belief system of the normal world – and how to make sure that we don’t become victims of a witch hunt ourselves.  But those are very long-term plans.  Short-term plan is kill Voldemort and have a party.”

There was some laughter from the group.

“What can you do with magic?” Stephan asked.

“For most wizards and witches,” Croaker said, “not that much.  Some spells for light, for transporting things over distances, and basic charms for housework, for flying broomsticks and the like.  The good wizards can change form, can alter things at a molecular level, and can fight.  The best can do pretty much anything they set their mind to.  There are thousands of years of spells you can use, and over that time, throughout all the cultures in the world, nearly everything has been tried at least once.  For people like Voldemort and Harry, there is close to no limit on what they can do.  That’s what makes him so dangerous.  The only person who can kill him is Harry, and if Harry loses, Voldemort gains control of the Wizarding world, and then he will come after this world, and you won’t be able to stop him.  He will be as close to a living God as you are ever likely to see.  He hates the normal world as much as he hates half-blood wizards, and if he wins, he would work to eliminate everyone who is not a pure-blood.  The Wizarding world has failed to protect itself, but we lucked out with having Harry – someone dedicated enough to go through everything he has, and still want to save everyone.  For the first time, we have the chance to wipe Voldemort and his Death Eaters out.”

“Cool,” one of them grinned.  “It sounds like fun.”

“It will be dangerous,” Harry admitted.  “Stray curses could hit you, and you’ll experience them like a wizard would.”

Stephan shrugged.  “Most of us were in the Gulf a few weeks before the war started.  We did a beach landing and started preparing the area, until we were discovered.  That was a little hairy, as we were alone, without support, being attacked by some of Saddam’s best troops.  We’re used to danger, and it sounds like you guys really need us.”

“There is one thing, though,” Harry said softly.  “I’m going to have to cast a spell on you to make sure that you can see the things that are hidden, and part of that spell will make it so that you can not talk about the Wizarding world to anyone but each other.”

Stephan shrugged.  “We’ve all signed the Official Secrets Act,” he explained.  “So we’re used to it.”

“Okay,” Harry smiled.  “Any questions?”

“I thought you were dating the brunette?” one of them asked.

“I’m looking after him for her,” Ginny said with a smile.

“Do all witches look as good as her and the other one?” another asked.

“All of my friends do,” Harry laughed.  “But in general, no.”

“How did you get so lucky?”

“By being himself,” Ginny replied for Harry.  “We’ve seen for years what you are only seeing now.  We know that Harry will be there for every one of us, regardless of the cost to himself or anyone else.”

“Any questions not pertaining to my personal life?” Harry asked.

“Was that a real wand you used earlier?”

“Yes, all wizards carry them and use them to cast the spells – pretty much like wizards in stories.”

“What happens if you lose your wand?”

“Most wizards lose the ability to do magic.”

“All wizards,” Croaker corrected.  “Apart from Harry and Voldemort, who don’t really need them.”

Harry shrugged, accepting the correction.

“Is David Copperfield a real magician?”

Croaker snorted.  “Not even close.”

“Well,” Stephan drawled.  “This does explain why the commandant is so bloody lucky in the field.  Never lost a single man under his control, no matter how suicidal the mission.”

Croaker smiled slightly and nodded.

Harry looked at his watch.  “Okay, I’m going to have to leave you with Croaker and Paddy for a full mission brief.  I need to find out how my other distraction is going.  Ginny, use the Portkey; it will take you back to Hogwarts.  I’ll see you there.”  He vanished into the Other Place, and as before, cast a spell so he could read what they were saying.

Ginny didn’t vanish instantly and smiled as she looked around the room.  “Harry glossed over a lot of what he did,” she said, “and made a lot of it seem like he was just lucky.  He was lucky, but he backed that up with raw ability and an innate sense of nobility.  Most wizards are not like him; they are normal, and from what I can tell, equivalent to normal humans.  But with the evil we have in Voldemort, we needed a balance, and we got Harry.  I can still see Harry when he was twelve – a basilisk, a snake that was over forty foot long, was between him and my safety.  A twelve year old facing something that any grown wizard would have run crying from, and he was facing it for me.  For me.  And he won.  And that was when I knew.  More than anything else in my life, I knew that Harry would eventually win.  It wouldn’t matter what the odds were against him, it wouldn’t matter how bad it looked or how dark it had become, because Harry would stand there, and he would fight.  He would fight until he had nothing left, and then he would fight some more.  He will not give in, he will not stop, and he will not be swayed.  He will do everything he can to keep his allies alive, but he will make the hard decisions if necessary.  A few nights ago he sent one of his friends into a situation where one mistake will mean her being tortured to death.”

The soldiers were nodding, looks of approval on their faces.

“For all his life in our world, he’s been treated poorly by most of the adults, used for political gain by some, treated as a hero or a villain by others reliant upon his reputation.  He doesn’t really trust many people, except his close friends.  And we trust and support him fully.  It’s possible that others will object to him asking for your help; not that he’ll care, but they might be a bit prejudiced against you.”

“That’s why he’s trying to change things, right?” Stephan asked.

Ginny nodded.  “It is hard for us, as we were brought up thinking a certain way, but when you’re friends with Harry Potter, you have to have open minds, or you lose that friendship.”

“Don’t worry,” Paddy said with a shrug.  “By the time Harry is ready, I’ll have told them everything they need to know.”

Ginny smiled and walked over to the big man.  She reached up and pulled him down, giving him a kiss on the cheek.  “Thanks for helping Harry over the summer,” she whispered.

Paddy blushed slightly and then scowled at the sniggering men.

Ginny walked over and did it to Croaker as well, before grabbing the Portkey and vanishing.

Stephan wandered to the front of the table with Croaker and Paddy.  “So, Sarge,” he grinned.  “A big man like you knocked on your side by a redhead who is knee-high to a grasshopper.”

Paddy snorted, “And you wouldn’t be?”

Stephan grinned.  “But I wasn’t, so let’s not worry about it. All this does explain why you were so unwilling to tell us anything.”  He looked at the Marines.  “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m willing to follow him.  And not just because the Commandant and Paddy are doing so, but because of the speech the china doll just gave.  I’ve not seen that sort of loyalty and dedication in a long time, and you know, it will be nice to fight for someone that understands, rather than the usual REMFs.”

The other Marines nodded in agreement, and Stephan continued, “I think tonight we should have a few drinks and ask these two all the questions we were too embarrassed to ask in front of those two.”

Harry smiled to himself and returned to Hogwarts.

“So, how did it go?” Pansy asked as she entered the Room of Requirement, accompanied by the others.

Harry was relaxing on the couch; Ginny was leaning against him, her homework on her lap.

“You know why Harry wanted me there?” Ginny said, looking up at Pansy and smiling.

“No,” Pansy said slowly.  “What did he do?”

“He borrowed a gun and fired it at me.”

“He did what!?” came back the chorus.

Harry sighed, “I was proving that Ginny is a witch.  I had her create a shield beforehand, and I know that bullets are stopped by them – we practised using guns with Paddy during the training.  She wasn’t in any danger, but no one who saw it had any doubts after that.”

“True,” Ginny agreed.

“Besides,” Harry grinned.  “You should have seen Paddy when Ginny gave him a kiss on the cheek.  The big man blushed.”

Pansy blinked, thought about that image for a moment, and then laughed, hard.

Ginny turned and looked at Harry.  “So you didn’t vanish immediately, and you heard what I said.”

Harry nodded.

Ginny blushed slightly. “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” she grumbled softly.

“He does that a lot.  Lift your feet up,” Pansy said.

Ginny raised her legs, and Pansy sat down, pulling them back over her lap.  “So, did everything go okay?”

“Croaker’s taking them out tonight to get them a little drunk, so they can ask the questions they didn’t want to ask me.”

“Why not?” Ron asked.

“How do you ask questions of a man who just shot a bullet at an innocent girl, and seen her survive?” Ginny asked.  “You don’t.  Add Harry’s look, the fact that he broke some sort of course record, and did something with a knife that sounded heroically stupid, and they were intimidated.”

Pansy laughed and grinned at Harry.  “Heroically stupid pretty much describes it.  He was in a fight with Croaker, and well, you know Harry, he didn’t want to lose, so he impaled his arm on Croaker’s knife to disarm him to win.”

Hermione put her hands on her hips, while Ron and Daphne gaped at him.  “Harry James Potter,” she said in a tone of long-suffering disgust.  “I’d be delighted to hear your logic for doing that.”

“I am going to fight Voldemort,” Harry stated coolly.  “When I do so, I will need to throw everything I’ve got at him.  Fighting Croaker was a perfect training exercise for that.  I will take out Voldemort, no matter what it takes.”

“Oh,” Hermione said meekly.  “Okay.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before Harry started to laugh, while Ron walked over and high-fived him.  “Five years, Harry, five years,” Ron said sounding stunned.  “If your girlfriend or my sister wouldn’t kill me, I’d kiss you.”

“What have I missed here?” Daphne asked.

“In five years, this is the first time anyone’s beaten Hermione at logic,” Ron sighed dreamily.  “Don’t mind me, I’m just going to sit here and savour the moment.”

Hermione picked up a pillow and launched it at him.

“See,” Ron smirked.  “As soon as her logic is gone, she reacts with violence like the rest of us.”

“Shush, Ronald,” Hermione said primly.  “Or I’ll tell Hannah that you’re not a very good kisser.”

Ron groaned and sat down quietly.

“Back to the point,” Harry said dryly, “because I really don’t want to know any more about Ron’s kissing habits, regardless of the truth of the matter.  The SBS is going to help, and to be honest, I’m glad to have them.  They looked like the sort of people you really want on your side.”

“I would have been scared if Harry hadn’t been there,” Ginny admitted.

“Anyway, how did the press conference go?” Harry asked.

“Brilliantly,” Pansy said.  “Hermione was fantastic.  It started a bit slowly, with the press thinking it was all a big joke.  Remus was doing his normal ‘I’m a dignified werewolf’ routine and wasn’t prepared to stop them.”

“And then,” Daphne took over.  “Hermione stood up and started to talk.  She talked for twenty minutes straight berating them for their lack of respect, for the inequality in the Wizarding world, how Remus was a good friend of yours, and she basically gave a masterful performance in how to manipulate the press.”

“The whole place gave her some applause at the end,” Ron added.  “And then they asked some serious questions about policies that Remus answered calmly.  By the end, the press liked him and were taking him seriously.  There won’t be much support for him, as he is a fringe candidate, but he should get some headlines as the first Werewolf to run for office.”

“Perfect,” Harry grinned.  “Should make Lucius Malfoy a little uncomfortable and get Voldemort’s attention.  Good work, Hermione; I knew you could do it.”

Hermione blushed slightly and beamed at everyone.  “It was a lot of fun,” she agreed.  “Harry, can I still help when Voldemort is defeated?  I learned so much today.”

“I don’t see why not,” Harry said.  “You’ll have to work with Gruoch, but I couldn’t think of a better person to teach you how to do that sort of thing.”

Hermione smiled and bounced in her seat happily.

“Barmy,” Ron pointed out with a grin.

With great dignity, Hermione ignored him.

Harry looked around the room.  “You know, I like this,” he said softly.  “We’ve started the final phase tonight.  In the next few days it will be over, and instead of sitting here talking about a stupid Dark git, we’ll be talking about school, potions and everything else people our age normally talk about.  And I can’t wait.”

“We’re going to stay in here after Voldemort is dead?” Ron asked.

“Can you see going back to Gryffindor Tower?” Pansy asked.

“Actually, no,” Ron said.  “But if we’re going to stay here, just the six of us, I need to raise an important point.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Are we going to get one more person and form our own Quidditch team?”

There was a moment of silence, before Harry said slowly, “You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

“We already have the best Seeker, the best Keeper, and a fantastic Chaser,” Daphne said slowly.  “I can play chaser as well.”

“I like the idea of being a beater,” Pansy admitted.  “And I think with my training, I’d find it pretty easy.”

“I’m not very good at flying though,” Hermione pointed out.  “And we’d still need one more.  And that’s not to mention the whole problem with getting the professors to agree to a fifth team taking part.”

“I can help with the flying, Hermione,” Daphne said.  “I can teach you how to fly properly – and unlike these two,” she indicated Ron and Harry, “you don’t need to be embarrassed with me.  What do you say?”

“Come on, Hermione,” Harry urged.  “At least try it to see why we love it so much.”

“I’ll try,” Hermione said with a long-suffering sigh.  “But who is going to be our other Beater?”

Harry blinked and shook his head.

“What?” Ginny asked.

“Nah…” he said slowly.

“Come on, Harry,” Pansy said.  “Spill the beans.”

Instead of answering, Harry clicked his fingers and called, “Dobby.”

Dobby arrived with a pop.  “Dobby was not realising that everyone was back,” he grumbled.  “Dobby will be getting drinks.”

“Wait,” Harry called.  “Could you get Winky to do that? I want to ask you something.”

Dobby beamed and snapped his fingers, quickly asking Winky to get them drinks.

Harry concentrated for a second, and a scaled down chair appeared next to Hermione.  “Have a seat,” he offered.

Dobby looked proud as he took the seat.

He paused while Winky passed them all drinks and vanished quietly.

“Dobby, do house-elves ever fly with a broom?”

“Sometimes,” Dobby said.  “We is not being as good on big brooms, but some elves are having small brooms.”

“Dobby,” Harry said directly.  “When Voldemort is dead, we’re thinking of forming our own Quidditch team.  We were wondering if you would like to play as one of our Beaters?”

Dobby gaped at him, his mouth moving, but with no sound coming out.

“I’ve seen how tough you are when you are protecting something,” Harry explained.  “And I know you’re a bit small, but size is no indication of power, and I think you’d be good.”

“The great Harry Potter sir wants Dobby to play with him?”

Harry nodded.

“Dobby is never being so honoured as he is now,” the elf said, tears running down his face.  “Dobby will be being the best beater possible!”

“All right!” Ron shouted standing and doing a little jig.  “We have a Quidditch team!”

“Might I remind you that some of us have never played before,” Hermione reminded him.  “We might not win.”

“Hermione,” Ron said with a long-suffering sigh.  “With Ginny as a Chaser, me as the Keeper, and Harry as the Seeker, we already have the basis of a brilliant team.  I agree with Harry that Dobby will be great, and well, having been thrown across the room by the woman of steel over there, I think a Bludger hit by her will stay hit.  And I’m willing to bet the Daphne is a more than competent Chaser, and I know you Hermione.  As soon as you get into the game, you will have studied every move known to man, and probably a few not known, and we’ll have strategies that will be completely bonkers but will work perfectly.  This will be better than winning for Gryffindor!”

Pansy laughed softly.  “But you know,” she said, “It might be a good idea for us to go a step further and agree to have house points.  None of us cares what happens to our own houses, and at the moment, we won’t turn up to detentions, so it leaves us outside the rules.  If we agree to have our own house points, we then have a guarantor of our behaviour.”

“Is it be possible for us to beat the rest of the school?” Ginny asked.

“Well,” Hermione said thoughtfully.  “Daphne and I do tend to accumulate a lot of points as it is, and not only would we be gaining them, but Slytherin and Gryffindor would not be getting them.  And there are a lot of points awarded for winning Quidditch matches.”

“Which is a very good point,” Harry added.  “If we pitch this as us having some fun and not being insular, and at the same time, point out how it is going to equalise things so that the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs have a chance to win as well, then it might work.”

“It wouldn’t be popular with Gryffindor and Slytherin,” Pansy mused.  “But the other houses will love it, and the Gryffindors will come around quite quickly when they get over their knee-jerk reaction.”

“And without Malfoy, we might be surprised by the Slytherins as well,” Daphne added thoughtfully.

“Okay,” Harry said.  “After we defeat Voldemort, I’ll pitch the idea to Dumbledore.  I could go over his head, and I still might, but I think it will be the first thing I give him to make him focus on the school.  But, it’s late now, and we could be called out to fight any day now.”

Dobby stood and bowed.  “Dobby is thanking you all,” he said.  “Dobby will not be letting you down.”

“We know,” Daphne smiled.  “Good night, Dobby.”

Dobby smiled radiantly and vanished.

“Night, all,” Daphne said and walked to her room.

Hermione stood and smiled at them, walking to her room.

“Hermione, wait up,” Ron called, hurrying to catch her.  “Can I have a word?”

“Of course,” she said and led him into her room.

Ginny got up and stretched.  She turned and looked at the other two, a hesitant expression on her face.

Harry felt Pansy lightly brush against his mind.  He turned, and caught the pleading expression on her face.

He sighed and nodded.

“Go and get changed then,” Pansy ordered.  “You’re sleeping with us again.”

“Thank you,” Ginny beamed and dashed to her room.

“Do I want to know?” Harry asked.

“She slept better last night than she has in years.  She hides it better than pretty much anyone bar you, but she needs us.”

“Okay,” he shrugged.  “I’ll get in bed first.”

“Thanks, honey,” Pansy smiled and kissed him gently.

Harry shook his head and walked into the bedroom, stripping quickly and getting under the covers.  Despite himself, he found he was sleepier than he thought, and soon drifted off into sleep.

Hermione sat on her bed and looked at Ron.  “What’s up?”

“Well, first, you were right about Hannah.  She’s at least agreed to think about dating me.”

“You asked her already?” Hermione asked.

Ron nodded, “After dinner.  After wasting so much time asking you out, I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.”

Hermione smiled.  “Sure, we could have done all this a year earlier, but we were having fun.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Hermione said gently.

“I don’t want to make the same mistakes I made with you when I am with Hannah,” he said softly, pulling one of the chairs from the fireplace near her bed.

“And?”

“I guess I want some advice on how to act like a grown up.”

Hermione nodded slowly.  “Well, I guess the first thing to do is something I know you’ve been told before.  Keep a tight grip on your temper.  Don’t just react.  Think things through before going off the handle.

“I’m not trying to say that you should change that much, but think about how it would feel to know that you can lose your temper at something and have it be justified, rather than wondering if you are being a prat again.”

Ron smiled faintly.  “Again,” he agreed.  “I think I take after mum more than anyone else.  She has always had a temper.  The others deal with it in a different way.  Ginny was worse than I was before she met Voldemort, and that all changed.

“I guess it taught her restraint as it robbed her of her childhood.  I think I had that same thing with Pansy.  She scared me, you know?”

“Really?” Hermione asked, more to keep him talking than from any deep sense of surprise.

“Yeah,” he sighed.  “There was no forgiveness and a complete ruthlessness.  I finally understood that she would do anything for Harry and for her family.  The normal rules don’t seem to apply to her.”

“They don’t,” Hermione agreed.  “Or rather, she thinks that rules are merely guidelines for her to ignore as she wills.  Her family is the only thing that matters to her – more than money, fame, anything.  I’m not sure how Malcom and Gruoch managed to instil that iron will in her, but they did.”

Ron nodded, “Yeah, that’s it exactly.  And you know, seeing her with Harry and the relationship they have, it did kinda help me with my decision earlier, you know.”

“I know,” Hermione said softly.

“I don’t regret anything;” Ron assured her, as he got to his feet and put the chair back.   “This summer was a lot of fun.”

“I know,” Hermione smiled.  “Good night, Ron.”

“Night,” he said and walked out the door.

Hermione sighed softly as she watched him go.  While she knew he was right, she was hurt that he had moved on so quickly.  She looked around furtively, and reached into a drawer and pulled out a big bar of chocolate.  It was times like this that she was really grateful for the changes Pansy had made because never before had she had someone she could do this with.

She waited a few minutes and opened the door to her room silently.  She quickly padded across the floor and knocked on Daphne’s door.

She heard Daphne call out and entered the room.  The blonde was sitting in bed, reading idly.

“Hermione?” she asked.

Hermione held up the chocolate in her hand.  “Can we gossip and badmouth some boys for a bit?”

“With chocolate, we can do whatever you want,” Daphne replied seriously and patted the space next to her.  “I’ve got some books on Quidditch,” she offered.

“Don’t you dare tell Ron or Harry,” Hermione said as she sat down next to Daphne, “but I’ve been studying Quidditch for years. I just didn’t want them to have any encouragement.”

Daphne laughed softly and held out her hand.  Hermione quickly broke a piece of chocolate off and handed it to her.

“In that case,” Daphne said, as she munched the chocolate.  “You can read this.”

Hermione looked at the book and laughed.  “Flying for non-fliers ,” she read out loud.

“Exactly,” Daphne grinned.  “So, what has Ron done now?”

Ron walked out of Hermione’s room and looked around at their empty living room.  Acting on a hunch, he walked over to Ginny’s door and knocked softly, opening it a few seconds later.  As he thought, it was empty.

He walked into his room and shook his head.  If it had been any other guy in the world, he’d be thinking the worst, but this was Harry.  And Harry really was the picture book definition of honourable.

“You have all the luck, Potter,” he whispered into his room.  “But I don’t envy you it, not anymore.  I’ve got great friends, a fabulous ex-girlfriend, a new one on the horizon, and the chance to help change the world.  And I don’t have that world resting firmly on my shoulders.”

The next evening, they were gathered in the living room of the Room of Requirement.  Only there were now over thirty doors leading off it.

“Harry?” Hermione asked.  “What’s going on?”

“This is why I wanted this room,” Harry explained.  “I don’t know how long we’ve got, but until Tonks gives us the word, we’re going to be using the Time Turner, and Pansy and I are going to train you properly.  We’re not going to do everything, just what you need to make sure that you survive the fight.”

“Why so many doors, though?” Hermione asked.

“We’re going to double what Pansy and I did, and we’re going do ten days for each one.  Dobby’s got the house-elves ready, and he’s looking forward to the challenge of feeding us.  We’ll cram as much as we can in.”

“Can’t we use this to… you know, clone you so that Voldemort has to fight you twice?” Ron asked.

“Nope,” Pansy said.  “Basically, time travel can only go backwards, so Harry would have to win before he was able to come back to the right time, but if he won and then came back, something might change, causing him to lose.”

“Which would mean that he never won, so he didn’t come back, so he won?” Ron asked, going cross-eyed.

“Welcome to a paradox,” Hermione said.  “Some Muggles think that if you create a paradox you can destroy the universe.”

“And we don’t want to do that,” Ron exhaled slowly.  “So, when do we start?”

“Tomorrow.  We need the rooms to be here for a day before we can use them.  Because if we tried now, when we went back, we’d go to places that don’t exist.”

“This gives me a headache,” Ron complained, causing Harry and Pansy to burst out laughing.

Before they could continue, Dobby appeared and handed Harry some parchment.

“Guys,” Harry said.  “Listen to this.”

First for the good news.  Nott does not sleep with his wife.  I can’t tell you how pleased I am about that – especially as she’s an ugly cow.

When I arrived back, we were in a small building somewhere, where Voldemort was waiting for me.  He is one seriously scary bloke.  Anyway, I grovelled like anything and told them that I’d been captured.  I figured that keeping to the truth as far as I could would be the best idea.

I told him I’d used the button; and that while they had threatened torture, I didn’t give in and then managed to escape with a back-up Portkey I had.

V was a little suspicious, but then I told him about Snape being there, and he went nuts.  I’ve not heard that much swearing since Auror training camp.  Anyway, he told me I’d done well and to go home and rest.

He called a meeting yesterday, and Draco Malfoy turned up, looking very pleased with himself.  So much so, he forgot to bow before he talked to Voldemort.

One painful looking Cruciatus curse later, Draco had remembered his place.  Anyway, he told V that he had deliberately left school to tell him the news.  That he’d found out about the prophecy.  If it was true, what Draco did was pretty impressive.  I can’t believe he’d take Polyjuice Potion to turn into Ron.

I was a little worried, and then he started to talk about you’re turning Hogwarts into a fortress and V having a time limit to defeat you.  That’s when I knew that A, he hadn’t taken the potion, and B, that you’d set him up like a kipper.

V believed it and started to swear, calling for Lucius.  Well, Lucius turned up, apologising profusely.  V was pretty damn quick, and didn’t let him know that he hadn’t got a clue what was going on.  Lucius confessed everything about Remus, and how he had plans to stop it.

Another Cruciatus later, and V tells Lucius that he should be more like his son, who is obviously the competent one in the family.

Long story short, because there’s some sort of Death Eater party tonight, V is gathering all his troops to meet up Monday morning.  I won’t know where until then, but one of the house-elves here is going to try and track me down.  As part of the Inner Circle , I’m going to be there first, so you should have time to get everyone here.

So, it’s not been too bad so far.  It’s a bit of a strain keeping this form for so long, but I’m relaxing when I can.

Tell R I love him, and he looked sexy in those photos.

N.T.

“I don’t believe it,” Hermione said slowly.  “Your bloody insane plan is actually going to work.”

Harry nodded.  “Right, and that means we’ve got six days in real time.  In sixty days, believe me, you will feel like different people.  All of you get an early night tonight because you’re going to need it.”

“What about you?” Pansy asked.

“I’ve got to go and talk to the twins, Malcom and Gruoch, Remus, Croaker, and Dumbledore,” Harry said, shrugging.  “It’s a pity we won’t be able to use the Thestrals, but they won’t have time to get in place, and it would be too much effort to get them there magically.”

He kissed Pansy quickly and vanished, walking through the Other Place to Dumbledore’s office.

“Are you using Elf Magic to get through the wards?” Dumbledore asked, as Harry popped into view.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.  “Dobby taught me – and sorry, it’s a secret I can’t divulge.”

Dumbledore sighed and peered over his half-moon glasses.  “What can I do for you, Harry?”

“Pass on a message to the Order.  On Monday, Voldemort is going to be gathering his forces somewhere.  We should get about half an hour’s notice.  So we’re going to need a lot of Portkeys ready so that we can add a destination at the last minute.”

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows slowly.  “I see,” he said.

Harry nodded.  “I’ve got a busy evening ahead of me,” he sighed.  “I guess that’s the burden of command, right?”

Dumbledore nodded.  “I’ve been doing this for a very long time, Harry.  I can’t say I’m happy about not being in charge anymore.”

“You’ve been in charge for far too long,” Harry said bluntly.  “And with no one to tell you when things are going wrong.  You need more friends and less people who look at you as a deity.”

“Perhaps,” Dumbledore said.  “It had been some time since someone had said no to me, quite as forcefully as you have.”

Harry smiled slightly.  “I’m good at that.”

“Did I really let you down that badly?” Dumbledore asked, staring at his desk.

“In many ways, yes,” Harry sighed.  “You could have done many things very differently, but you didn’t.  And right now, I’ve not got time to go through everything with you.”

“Harry,” Dumbledore said, looking up.  “I wasn’t lying when I said I’d had a lot of time to think.  I’m scared to think that you might be right.  I was so concentrated on everyone else that I really didn’t think about you – and when I did, I felt some guilt.

“You’ve turned into a young man that I have no right to feel proud of, but I do anyway.  Will there be a chance to apologise more fully after the battle?”

Harry paused and looked at the old headmaster.  He smiled slightly.  “Probably,” he said.  “Because when Voldemort is gone, you will just be the Headmaster of Hogwarts and supreme Mugwump.”

“I am looking forward to that more than I can say,” Dumbledore admitted.

“I know,” Harry said.  “I’ll catch you later,” he offered a cheeky salute and popped away, heading toward the Ministry next.

He appeared in front of a group of tired-looking Aurors and looked them over.

“I think I hate you, Potter,” Amanda Lampkin said as she spotted him.  “I’ve never worked so bloody hard in my life.”

“Are you having fun, though?”

“Yes, but that’s not the bloody point.  They’re slave drivers.”

Harry shrugged, “But you’ll be thanking them when what they are training you keeps you alive.”

“Still not the point,” Amanda sighed.  “I need a bath, a massage, and a good night’s sleep.”

“Then go get one,” Croaker said, as he walked into the room.  “But be back here at six a.m..”

“Six a.m.?” one of them groaned.  “I didn’t even know there was a six am ‘til recently.”

The tired Aurors filed out, leaving Harry and Croaker alone.  “How are they doing?” Harry asked.

“A lot better than I expected.  They have a lot of the skills; they’re just lazy.”

“Well, you’ve got six more days to get them into shape.”

“Six days?” Croaker asked.

Harry grinned.  “On Monday, we attack.”

“Cool,” Croaker grinned.  “They’ll be ready.  Thanks for letting me know.”

“You are doing some great work here, Croaker,” Harry said seriously.  “I really do appreciate it.”

Croaker smiled and shooed him away.

Harry laughed and vanished, moving toward Fred and George’s shop.  As they had promised, they were hard at work; Fred was stirring two cauldrons, while George was reading from a large spell book.

“I never realised how much work was involved in these things,” Harry said as he popped into sight.

“Sweet Merlin on a bike,” George said as he jumped.  “How, in the name of Hades, did you get past our anti-Apparition wards?”

“Boy-who-lived, remember?” Harry asked.

“Right,” Fred snorted.  “And you’re lying, but it’s not important.  What have you got for us, oh fearless leader?”

“You have until Monday, and then you’ll need to be ready.”

“We should be able to do that,” Fred said, looking relieved.  “We might even get some sleep.”

“Do you guys want some help?” Harry asked.

“We could do with another set of hands,” George admitted.  “But where are you going to find someone to help us?”

“Wait right here,” Harry said with a grin and vanished, appearing outside the Burrow.  He knocked on the door politely.

“Harry?” Molly asked.  “What are you doing here?”

“Recruiting,” Harry said dryly.

“What do you need?”

“Tell me,” Harry said as he followed her into the kitchen.  “Just who exactly do the twins take after, you or Arthur?”

Molly blushed and looked away.  “Arthur?” she half said, half asked.

Harry grinned. “I knew it!”

The Weasley Matriarch sighed, “I’ve kept that secret for so many years,” she explained.

“I know,” Harry agreed.  “But the twins really need some help, and I can’t think of anyone else I’d trust to be with them.  They’re working their quadruplicate socks off at the moment.”

“I know,” Molly said.  “And I really am proud of them.  And I do owe them a bit of an apology for doubting them when they were expelled last year.”

“So you’ll help?”

“Absolutely,” Molly said seriously.  “They’re putting together weapons, aren’t they?”

Harry nodded.

Molly looked angry, and Harry caught himself almost taking a step back.  “It’s about time those Death Eaters discover what happens when you annoy a Weasley.”

Harry smiled.

“Let me just tell Arthur where I am,” Molly said.  “And I’ll start immediately.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.  “I’ll see you there.”  He popped into the Other Place and spent a few minutes observing them, till he saw Molly Apparate outside their shop.

“I’ve got you some help.”

“Who?” Fred asked, still stirring his cauldron.

“Someone with more years pranking experience than pretty much anyone else alive.”

Fred and George looked at each other.  “Who?” they demanded.  “We know all the pranksters!”

“Not the one who never got caught,” Molly said smugly as she entered the room.

“Mum!” Fred and George said together.

“You think you got it from your father?” she asked.  “I don’t think so.”

Fred and George looked at each other.

“And all this time we thought she was just lucky,” Fred groaned.

“She knew what we were doing,” George agreed.  He turned to his mother.  “You even let us prank you with silly things, so we wouldn’t get suspicious, didn’t you?”

Molly bowed gracefully.

“Damn it, Mum,” Fred said.  “We could have done with your help.”

“I know,” Molly said softly.  “But I wanted you to do it yourselves.  I wanted you to feel like you succeeded on your own.  It was too important to you.  I’ve been so proud of you this year.  You’ve worked harder than I ever imagined you could, and look at you both, such wonderful successes.”

A second later, there was a three-way hug.  Harry popped out, absently brushing his eyes, and walked toward Remus.

“Evening,” Harry said as he sat down.  “I’m just on a flying visit to let you know that Tonks is safe and loves and misses you.  And that we’re going to be fighting on Monday.”

Remus relaxed and sat back in his chair.  “Harry, are you sure that I am the right person to run the country?  I’m starting to realise just what I so blithely agreed to.”

“Absolutely,” Harry said seriously.  “As Malcom said, it’s far better to have a decent, honest man in power than anyone else.  But you won’t be alone; you will have all the help you need.  Yes, you’ll have to make decisions, but is that really so hard?”

Remus shook his head.  “It’s just…” he started and then paused.  “Daunting.”

“If it helps,” Harry grinned.  “For the first year you’ll be loved as you’ll have helped defeat Voldemort; but in the second, you’ll be almost universally hated when we free the Elves.”

“Well,” Remus laughed, “at least I get a honeymoon period.”

“Anyway, I’ve got to go the Acromantulas, before going to see Malcom and Gruoch.”  He said goodbye and popped out, appearing in the Forbidden Forest.

He whistled under his breath as he strolled along, heading toward Aragog’s lair.  Unlike before when he had been captured by the spiders, he was allowed to walk unheeded.

He did have an honour guard of spiders on both sides of him.

“Evening, Aragog,” he said casually as he entered the clearing.

“Harry,” Aragog replied, inclining his head.

“In six days’ time, in the morning, we will be attacking.  I hope you’re going to bring your appetite.”

The giant spider’s laughter was accompanied by the clicking sound of the other spiders.

“My children are looking forward to some revenge.  The Enemy ate many of my children, and they want to avenge their deaths.”

“They will be most welcome.  I will have a rather eclectic group there, including Muggles.  They have been warned not to attack you and to hit everyone on the other side.”

“Muggles?” Aragog sounded a little surprised.  “With their thunder sticks?”

“Indeed,” Harry said, surprised that Aragog knew about guns.

“We have seen them in many places.  We will be ready, Harry.”

Harry bowed formally.  “Until Monday,” he said.

“Until Monday,” Aragog agreed.

Harry stepped into the Other Place again and appeared in the book-lined study in Parkinson Manor.

“Harry,” Gruoch said, walking over and hugging him.  “You look like you’ve been through the wringer and back.  Come and sit down, have a cup of tea, and forget that you’re in charge for a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, sitting down in the high-backed leather chair comfortably.  Grouch passed him a cup and sat down next to Malcom.

There were no words for a few minutes, just a comfortable silence that Harry found very refreshing.

“How can we help you, Harry,” Malcom said eventually.

Harry smiled at the phrasing.  “Be ready for Monday, and no dying,” he said quietly.

“Monday? We’ll be ready,” Gruoch said confidently.

“And we have no intention of dying – Gruoch’s not yet the richest woman in the world, and that’s the sort of thing that would just completely spoil my enjoyment of the afterlife,” Malcom added with a grin.

Harry laughed, “That’s good to hear.  How’s the Ministry coming along?”

“Lucius is still in the dark.  Most of the Ministry is avoiding him.  Whenever he enters the outer office of any important official, they jump in the Floo and come to my office.  It’s childish, but a lot of fun.

“They’ve not got their candidate ready, yet; they weren’t expecting us to steal a march on them, and they’re playing catch-up.

“We’ve also got enough Anti-Apparition wards to cover a large field, so that’s ready as well.”

“Brilliant,” Harry smiled.  “I hate to say it, but it looks like we’re going to be ready.”

“There is one slight problem,” Malcom said.  “The Goblins want to stay out of the battle.  They’re a little too afraid of the Wizarding world’s reaction to the knowledge that they can fight.”

“They think people will accuse them of being ready to start a new rebellion?” Harry asked.

Malcom nodded.

“I swear,” Harry grunted, “that if this world was any more backward they would have just handed it straight to Voldemort.”

Malcom and Gruoch laughed.

“Are you nervous?” Gruoch asked.

“Terrified,” Harry admitted.  “I’m scared I’m not making the right decisions, that I’m putting you all in danger.”

“And that’s why we follow you, Harry.  You care about everyone under your command, and you are working yourself as hard as anyone to make sure everyone survives.  You will make mistakes, Harry, as you have already.  But you’ve learnt from them, and you never made the same one twice.  No one can ask for more than that.”

Harry nodded slowly.

“Don’t feel that you have to do it yourself,” Malcom continued.  “That’s what we are here for – to give you advice and support.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiled.  “I needed to hear that.”

“Let me go and get you one of my special hot chocolates,” Gruoch said.  “And we’ll tell you some stories about your parents.”

“That would be great,” Harry smiled.

When he eventually got back to Hogwarts, it was past midnight.  He walked silently into his room to find that Ginny was curled up next to Pansy, who had an arm protectively over the younger girl.  He admitted to himself for the first time that he had similar feelings for them both.  Not that it really mattered; he had Pansy, and she was more than enough for anyone.

He looked at them both and shook his head slowly, amazed at how innocent they could both look when asleep.  He stripped out of his clothes and climbed into bed next to Pansy, feeling strangely at peace with himself.

The next six days followed the same pattern.  The first day they would go through school, a little quieter and more subdued than usual.  Then for the next nine, they would all push themselves as hard as possible.  They worked in pairs; Ron and Ginny, and Daphne and Hermione.

Harry found his skills as a masseur in great demand after the physical training, so he taught Pansy to do it as well.

He took Ron and Ginny, while Pansy did Hermione and Daphne.

During the training, he covered a lot of the basics, including Muggle weapons like Paddy had with them, showing them how to use the guns as a last resort.

But the main focus was magical duelling and staying alive.  He pushed them as hard as he had pushed himself over the summer and stood still, as one by one, they broke down and cursed him.  Of course, the cursing was usually followed by a period of quiet introspection, and then a heartfelt apology.

He understood their frustrations and accepted it, knowing that it was a combination of stress and exhaustion.

On Friday evening, he stopped the training earlier on the final repeat of the day and had everyone sit in their living room.  He turned down the lights and stoked the fire, letting it crackle and crinkle merrily.

Pansy was sitting on the couch with Ginny, Hermione was with Daphne, and Ron was sprawled over the last sofa.

He picked up a high-backed chair, reversed it, straddled it, and rested his arms on the back.

“Have any of you thought about what is going to happen on Monday?” he asked.

“In what way?” Hermione asked.

“That we will be fighting for our lives, and that we will probably have to kill, as the Death Eaters will not be there for a picnic, nor will the Banshees, the Trolls, or any other allies of Voldemort.”

A log in the fireplace broke, sending sparks into the air and onto the stone floor.

“I have,” Ginny said softly.  “And I’m ready.”

“You are?” Ron asked, sitting up.  “I don’t know that I am.”

“I’ve had Voldemort inside me,” Ginny explained.  “I’ve seen how evil he is; I have memories of some of the things he’s done.  He is not human, anymore – none of them are human.  The Death Eaters sold their souls to Voldemort in return for the ability to act without regret.”

“Ginny’s right,” Pansy said in a calm voice.  “It’s them or us.  They’re standing between me and a long life, lived the way I want it, with my family around me.  If they left and stopped this, I wouldn’t touch them, but they won’t.  They have chosen to bring this fight to me, and I will not let them have a second chance.  They die.”

Ron shuddered softly.  “It’s times like this that I’m really glad I’m on your side,” he muttered.  “Death is something I’ve thought about,” he admitted.  “Killing or being killed.  It’s easy to say that I’d die for you guys, or that you would die for me, but does anyone ever really think that they are going to die?  It’s almost an empty promise.  But Ginny and Pansy are right.  The Death Eaters chose to do this; they chose to become murdering bastards, and if that means they pay with their lives, then so be it.  I won’t lose too much sleep over it.”

“So he is intelligent,” Daphne said dryly.

“I told you,” Hermione grinned.

“But I thought you were exaggerating.”

“Nope.”

“I am here, you know,” Ron said, his face flushing bright red.

“We know,” Daphne and Hermione said together, identical grins on their faces.

“I guess it’s my turn,” Daphne mumbled.  “I’m a Slytherin, like the Grey Princess over there; I knew it was going to come down to this when I joined you.  I could spend ten minutes listing friends and relatives they’ve either killed or scared.  I won’t stand for it anymore.”

“Hermione?” Harry asked softly.

The bushy-haired girl shifted slightly.  “I’ve thought of little else since you told us the plan,” she admitted.  “I don’t like the idea of killing; I almost think that we should stun them and give them a trial afterward.  But I know that they won’t be giving us the same privilege.  And even if we could, we’ve seen so many examples of them escaping and causing more havoc – we couldn’t even keep Lucius Malfoy incarcerated – that I came to the same conclusion.  We have to do this, so that we can have the life we want, so that you will be safe, so that everyone will be safe, so that my parents will be safe.”

“What about you, Harry?” Ginny asked.

“I’ve seen Voldemort kill my parents, kill Cedric, kill Sirius.  I’ve seen him torture; I’ve seen him mutilate; I’ve seen him do things that make me sick to my stomach.  I’ve seen Death Eaters attack and kill Muggles, Half-bloods, even Pure-bloods who wouldn’t follow him.

“He is like a rabid dog, and I will put him down.  It’s the same with the Death Eaters; I’ll save my mercy for people who deserve it.  Anyone who stands against us on Monday is my enemy. They’re trying to hurt the people I love, and I will not stand for it anymore.

“This ends once and for all, and from there, we move on and live our lives as we want to.”

They sat in a companionable silence for a few minutes, before they all separated and went to their bedrooms.

By Sunday, they had all come along in leaps and bounds.  They were much better fighters than they had been.

“That’s it,” Harry said.  “You’re as ready as you’re going to be.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, falling to her knees in exhaustion.

“Damn right,” Ron said.  “Man,” he grinned.  “I’ve got muscles that will scare Charlie the next time I see him.”

Harry laughed and shook his head.

“I just want to sleep,” Ginny said, “and for tomorrow to be done with, so I can have fun.”  She paused for a second.  “Fun that doesn’t include duelling,” she clarified.

Dobby appeared in the room and handed Harry another note from Tonks.

Boy Wonder,

I found out today that Voldemort will be sending a couple of Death Eaters to help the Dementors get to Hogwarts.  I think that if you can arrange for those Death Eaters to fail, the Dementors will not do anything and will stay out of the fight.

Eeek , GTG, N.T.

“GTG?” Pansy asked, looking confused.

“Got to go,” Hermione guessed.

“Oh, right,” Pansy nodded.  “That makes sense though.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.  “It’s another stroke of luck.  I’m glad we won’t be fighting them.  I’ll get a few Aurors to deal with them.  Let’s get a good night’s sleep, have a big breakfast tomorrow, and then kick Voldemort’s arse!”

The others laughed and headed toward their bedrooms.  Over the past sixty days for them, Ginny had practically moved in with them, not that Harry really minded.  He’d realised that he was going to wait until Voldemort was dead for some serious time where he’d want some privacy.  And Pansy seemed happier having Ginny where she could look after the red-haired girl.

There was a nervous tension between them at breakfast the next morning.  The other students knew something was up – they’d cancelled the D.A., and they all looked fitter than ever.

It was almost with relief that Dobby arrived and handed him another note.  Harry read it, and looked at Dobby, before pausing.  He scribbled on the parchment quickly and duplicated it, handing one back to Dobby.

“Are you ready?”

“Dobby has been speaking to the Council, and they is being ready to help.”

“Go to Parkinson Manor; see Malcom, and good luck.”

“Harry Potter is a great and powerful wizard,” Dobby said solemnly.  “Harry Potter sir is not to be doing any dying, nor is any of his friends.”

Harry smiled and nodded at the small elf as he popped out.

“Albus,” he called.

“Harry?”

“Was Tom Riddle a student of History?”

“He did like the subject.  Why?”

“Because for a Muggle-hater, he’s got a really twisted sense of humour.  He’s in Hastings.”

Dumbledore smiled slightly. “Filius, you’re in charge of the school.  Lessons are cancelled today; keep them safe.”

“Headmaster?” Flitwick asked, looking confused.

“Come on, Min,” Dumbledore said, looking almost cheerful.  “Let’s get going.”

Minerva smiled and got to her feet as well.

Harry and the others stood, preceding them out of the Great Hall.

“What about us?” Blaise and Luna asked together.

Harry paused and looked at them and smiled slowly.  “Now is the day to understand,” he said clearly.  “Everything that Pansy and I have done since we came back to school, the displays, the showboating, the fighting, has been done with one thing in mind.  The defeat of Voldemort.  We know who the Death Eaters are in the school and the ones with those sort of leanings, and we’ve used them to pass on messages that we controlled to Voldemort.

“We’ve not been available for the last week because we’ve been training, and this is it.  We’ve got an ambush planned for Voldemort, and we’re about to spring it.  But this isn’t your fight; it’s the fight of the people who allowed Tom Riddle to become Voldemort, who allowed him to get back into power.

“I know you wanted to help, and if we’d had the time, we would have taken your help gratefully.  But we haven’t.  This is our chance to wipe Voldemort out forever, and never have to worry about it again.

“I need you to sit on Nott, and the other Death Eater wannabes.  No one leaves this Hall when we’re gone.”

Blaise and Luna looked at him and then nodded slowly, drawing their wands.  “We won’t let you down,” they said and then grinned at each other.

“I know,” Harry smiled and started to walk again.

“Ron, wait,” Hannah called, running down the hall.  She grabbed Ron and kissed him firmly.  “You better not die,” she threatened.  “Or I’ll never speak to you again.”

Ron smiled and hugged her tightly.

They walked out, the doors of the Great Hall closing behind them.  Curiously, Harry stepped into the Other Place and watched what happened, his reading spell cast.  The Great Hall doors were immediately sealed by Luna and Blaise, before every member of the D.A. joined them at the front, their wands ready.

“Everyone will sit still and talk quietly,” Blaise said firmly.  “And Nott, if you don’t take your hand out of your pocket now, you’ll regret it.”

“Oh yeah?” Nott sneered, proving his intelligence was similar to his father’s, as he was hit by over thirty stunning charms at once.

“Anyone else feel an overpowering need to talk to Voldemort?” Blaise asked dryly.

No one else seemed to feel that need.

Harry laughed to himself as he cancelled the spell and rejoined the others.  “Blaise has everything in hand.  But Blaise and Luna?”

“Not something I expected,” Daphne grinned.  “But fun all the same.  What do you do while you’re in the Other Place?”

“I cast a spell to create a Quote Quill and some Parchment, and read what they say.”

Hermione paused and then turned to look at him slowly.

“What?” Harry asked, raising his hands defensively.

“House-elves can hear what people are saying, correct?”

“Yes,” Harry replied slowly.

“And magic works in the Other Place?”

Harry nodded his agreement.

“Then why didn’t you just cast a spell to allow you to hear what was going on?”

Harry opened his mouth and then shut it. A second later, he began to blush as he realised that he had missed something so obvious.

Hermione laughed softly and reached out and hugged him tightly.  “Don’t ever change,” she said, before releasing him.

“Okay,” Harry said, as he regained control and checked his watch.  “Activate the Portkey to Hastings in exactly fifteen minutes.”

“We will,” Pansy promised and kissed him firmly.  “Stay safe,” she whispered.

“You too,” Harry replied.

Pansy grabbed Ginny, who was standing watching them, and pulled her into the hug.  Ginny reached out and kissed Harry as well, whispering the same words Pansy had said to him.

Harry kissed her back and told her not to die as well.

He nodded at Ron and Hermione, knowing that no words were needed between them anymore, and vanished into the Other Place.

As he had six days ago, he started at the Ministry with Croaker.  The Aurors were sitting at tables, enjoying breakfast and the morning off, when he arrived.

At the back, all the Unspeakables, now unmasked, stood looking emotionless.

“Aten Shun!” Harry yelled.

Almost as one, the Aurors jumped to their feet, standing to attention instantly.  They were all dressed in their battle robes.

“It is time to let you in on a secret.  In twelve minutes, you will be Apparating with Croaker to a field.  Once there, you will be met by members of the Order of the Phoenix, some of the most highly trained Muggles you will ever see, some werewolves, house-elves, and the Acromantulas.

“Once there, you will be beneath one of the biggest concealment charms ever created, so you will not make a sound, but you will be ready to fight.”

Amanda looked at him and gasped audibly.  “You’ve done it, haven’t you?” she demanded.

“Done what?” Harry asked innocently.

“You’ve found Voldemort’s base, and we’re going to attack him.”

Harry smirked, “Ten points to the Aurors.”

“That’s why you’ve been training us so hard… but why not tell us beforehand?”

“Loose lips sink ships,” Harry grinned.  “Oh, and anyone who tries to do anything silly like warn Voldemort will find themselves entertaining the Acromantulas as their lunch.”  The last was said in an ice-cold voice.  “Do not let us down!

“Croaker, you have a map?”

Croaker nodded toward a large table.

“Here,” Harry pointed.  “The house-elves are going to set up the anti-apparition wards around here, and the camouflage charms along here.”

“No problem, Harry.”

“Hywell, can you take eight Aurors and Apparate to Azkaban?  There will be a couple of Death Eaters showing up to tell the Dementors what to do.  Stop the Death Eaters from getting near the Dementors.”

“Will do,” Hywell said calmly.  He pointed to a row of Aurors.  “You heard him, let’s go.”  Together, they Apparated away.

Harry smiled and then reached out and hugged Croaker for a second.  “Don’t die,” he said seriously.

“You either,” Croaker nodded.

Harry vanished into the Other Place, arriving in the same Mess Room in Lympstone.  The SBS members were sitting on chairs, watching some yellow people on a huge TV.

As he appeared, they jumped to attention, Paddy moving to the front, a man Harry hadn’t seen before next to him.

“Ready for the fight of your lives?” Harry asked.

“Where do you need us?” Paddy asked once the vocal agreement had died down.

“Hastings,” Harry said.  “You have a map?”

Paddy picked up a remote and pressed a few buttons.  A second later the cartoon was replaced by a large map that soon zoomed into Hastings.

“Satellite photography,” Paddy grinned.

Harry shook his head, smiling.  “And that’s Battle Abbey,” Harry said.  “That’s where Voldemort is staying.”

“But tourists visit there all the time.  Why haven’t they ever been spotted?”

“Notice-me-not Charm,” Harry explained.  “Keeps Muggles from getting suspicious, and keeps them from noticing anything they might need.  We’ll be fighting on the field in front, but don’t worry about damage to the building; we can repair it later.

“I’m going to have to give you a Portkey there; we’ve not got time for Muggle transport.”

“Croaker already thought of that,” Paddy grinned.  “He’s borrowed a few toys from the Americans down the road.  Unspeakable Jones, here, is going to make sure we get there on time.”

“Do I want to know?”

There was a low level of laughter from the members of the SBS.  Paddy pressed another button on the remote, and a new image filled the screen.  Harry whistled under his breath.  He’d seen them in his training manuals, but never thought he’d see one up close.

“This calls for a new plan,” he said decisively, reaching into a pocket and pulling out the notepad he shared with Malcom.

He wrote as he talked and then looked at his watch and winced.  “Ten minutes, gentlemen,” he warned.  “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“We’ll be there,” Jones grunted.  “Been looking forward to this for a few years.  Damn stupid idea keeping us separate.  Croaker was right to trust you.”  He saluted Harry.

Harry returned the salute, turned to Paddy and blinked.  “Just what is that?” he asked, looking at the gun on the table behind the large man.

“This?” Paddy asked, picking up the huge pistol.  “This is Betsy.”

“Betsy?” Harry asked doubtfully.

“It’s my Magnum – an American Super RedHawk from Sturm, Ruger & Co.  I have it for self-defence.”

“From what, a tank?” Stephan asked dryly.

Harry laughed and shook his head.  “One more thing,” he said to Paddy as he shook the big man’s hand.  “Don’t die.”

He stepped into the Other Place, heading toward the Forbidden Forest.

He didn’t have time for pleasantries, so he appeared directly in the cleaning.  “Morning, Aragog,” he said cheerfully.

“Ahh,” Aragog said, rising to his feet.  “It is time?” he asked eagerly.

“It is,” Harry said.  “We need to move fast.”

“Will you allow me to see into your mind?” Aragog said formally.  “I will take the destination.”

Harry nodded and walked over to the spider, and knelt before him.

Aragog reached out with one leg and touched Harry’s forehead.  The sensation was a little like Occlumency but had a very alien feel to it.  He automatically tightened his shields, only allowing the spider to see the destination and the plan

“Impressive,” Aragog said as he pulled back.  “You can keep secrets.  I like that.  We will be there on time, and will follow commands.  Won’t we, my children?”

There was a sound of clicking that sounded positively bloodthirsty.

Harry bowed.  “I would take it as a favour if you were to avoid dying; I don’t want to lose any more of my friends.”

Aragog paused and then bowed back to Harry, the movement a little jerky as if it had been a long time since he had done so.  “I will do my best, Harry.”

Harry nodded and vanished again, moving to Hastings.  He could see that the Aurors were there, as were Remus and the werewolves.  Most of them looked a little disconcerted, and all of them looked like they had seen better days.  Harry absently swore at the Ministry for their condition.

Malcom, Gruoch, Croaker, Remus, Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, Daphne, Ginny, and Pansy were standing around a table, looking at a map.

He could see the twenty house-elves waiting for his signal.  Dobby was standing in the middle of them all, keeping an eye on them.  He nodded to Dobby, who nodded back.

He looked out across the large field and winced.  There were twenty giants, each towering over the hundreds of beasts beside them.  Nearby, several Death Eaters were erecting what looked like a giant transport gate.

“There’s more Death Eaters than we thought,” Harry whispered as he appeared next to them.  “And we didn’t know about the Orcs!”

“I know,” Croaker shrugged.  “But we should still be able to take them.”

“I wish I hadn’t sent eight Aurors,” Harry sighed softly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Croaker said quietly.  “It’s too late to do anything about it, and while we would rather have more numbers, it doesn’t matter.  They are not ready for the fight yet.  They’ve never actually had to fight in a straight battle – they’ve been strictly terrorists.  We will win.  We will need to take out that gate though, we don’t want them escaping.”

“No problem,” Harry said confidently.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”  Harry nodded and turned to Ron.  “Do we have a plan?” he said a little louder.

Ron looked down and then at Harry.  “What have you got?”

Harry grinned.  “Attack, fight, win?”

“Sounds good to me.  But how about a little more detail?” Ron asked.

“Well, get to work then, Ron.”

“Before I forget, Harry,” Dumbledore said.  “Take these.”

“What are they?”

“Something the twins came up with,” Malcom said with a gleeful smile.  “Ear protectors – will eliminate the Banshee’s wails, but will allow all other sound in.”

“Remind me to make sure that they’ve got all the investment they need when this is over,” Harry said to Malcom.  “Genius like this could make us all very rich.”

“Good point,” Malcom said approvingly.  “And with your initial investment, they should be more open to us helping out.”

“How can you two talk about money right now?” one of the Aurors said a little loudly, from a nearby position.

Harry turned and looked at him.  “Because we’ve got to have something to do when Voldemort is dead, right?”

The Auror blinked and looked thoughtful for a second.  He suddenly stood to attention and saluted Harry formally.  “I was wrong,” he apologised.  “It’s an honour to fight with you.”

Harry returned the salute and smiled.  He turned back to the table and listened as Ron started to talk.

When Ron had finished, and a few suggestions had been accepted, Harry walked over toward Mad-Eye Moody.

“Got a special job for you, but you’re not going to like it.”

“I don’t have to like it,” Mad-Eye grunted.

“I need you to work with the Acromantulas and keep track of everyone who gets killed; we don’t want to miss anyone.”

“You’re right,” Mad-Eye scowled.  “I don’t like it; I don’t like missing the fight.”

“No one else here would recognise as many of the Death Eaters and would have the right attitude about what is going to happen to them.”

Mad-Eye snorted.  “What do I do if the Death Eaters aren’t dead?”

Harry looked at him coldly.  “Every Death Eater they bring will be dead.  If not immediately, they will be shortly afterward.”

Mad-Eye grinned.  “I like you, kid.  I’ll do it.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiled.  “I’ve got a battle to start, so if you’ll excuse me.”

Tonks stood proudly in the middle of the Inner Circle of Death Eaters.  Voldemort was giving a speech about how today was the day that everything would change.  And how the Potter brat would have no idea what was going to hit him.

She was having trouble not sniggering.  If she knew Harry, it would indeed be a day where everything changed.

Tonks had been lucky, in that she hadn’t actually had to do anything really scary at all.  Once she had got past Voldemort, she’d been pretty much left alone to “recuperate” from her ordeal.  It seems that Voldemort wasn’t quite the sadist after all and was quite prepared to reward loyalty as much as he punished failure.

She’d only seen Wormtail once; for the first time, her biggest worry had been getting bored.  There was only so much one could do while impersonating a recuperating Death Eater.

“Now,” Voldemort finished, his voice ringing triumphantly.  “To Hogwarts and our Destiny.”

She cheered, along with everyone else, and then followed him into the bright sunlight outside, where a few Death Eaters were preparing a transport gate that would act as a giant Floo, allowing them and their allies to all appear in Hogsmeade as they walked through it.

It was the sort of day that could only happen in September.  Not too hot, not too cold, and with hardly any clouds in the sky.

Something seemed to blur in front of her, and when she had blinked, she realised she had a Portkey and a note in her hand.  She looked down at it surreptitiously.

“At the sound of distant thunder, distract Tom and get out of there,” it said.

She looked around at the massed ranks of the Death Eaters.  At the Manticores, the Giants, the Banshees, the Mountain Trolls, the Orcs, and she shuddered to herself.  She didn’t think there’d be so many of them.

From the distance, she heard a faint rumble and guessed that was Harry meant.

“My Lord,” she screamed in Nott’s voice.

“Nott?” Voldemort sneered, his hand reaching for his wand.

“A spy!” she yelled.

“Where?” Voldemort demanded, looking around.  She walked out so she was in front of the other Death Eaters, standing alone with Voldemort.

“Right here,” she said triumphantly, and let her disguise drop, along with her Death Eater robes and mask.  As Voldemort screamed with rage, she activated the Portkey, leaving behind only her mocking laughter.

Harry stepped into the Other Place as he watched Nott move out in front.  “Now, Dobby,” he shouted.  “While Voldemort is distracted.”

He watched as the house-elves all stepped out of the Other Place, ramming the wooden staffs into the ground, and pressing the button that activated them.  He could see a huge dome arc over them – visible only in the Other Place.  He grinned, saluting Dobby.

The elf saluted him back, and he stepped out of the Other Place, and stood in front of Voldemort and his entire Army alone.

“Potter!” The Dark Lord spat.

“Tommy,” Harry said back amiably.  “Nice day, isn’t it?”

“You will address me as Lord Voldemort.”

“That’s your problem, Tommy; you never stop to smell the daisies.  But anyway, let’s get to business.  I’m afraid that I can’t let you attack Hogwarts.”

“It’s too late,” Voldemort sneered.  “You will be dead within seconds, your school shortly afterward.”

Harry listened, and he could hear the noise getting a lot closer.  “That’s not going to happen,” he yelled and sent up a large orange magical flare, before hitting the deck and raising a shield over him.

Voldemort looked shocked at his actions, ignoring the noise.

The gate in front of him suddenly exploded in a giant ball of fire.

Harry looked up and smirked.

Two AH-64A/D Apache Attack Helicopters flew into sight.  Smoke was trailing from the weapons’ wing of the one on the left.

The one on the right fired one of its Hellfire missiles.  The missile seemed to drop for a second, before a bright trail of light appeared out of the back, and the missile hissed across the field, hitting a giant.

The giant looked down at its chest in surprise and went to remove the pesky thing, when it exploded, sending slightly seared chunks of giants over everyone nearby.

“Shields, you idiots,” Voldemort yelled.  Harry watched as the Death Eaters, loyal to themselves first, did exactly that and cast shields on themselves.

“Curse those Muggles!” Voldemort yelled next.

The helicopters started to fire in unison, more Hellfire missiles spewing out, each one locked onto one of the giants – killing them almost instantly.

The Death Eaters sent a volley of spells at the helicopters.  Only to find that the Apache Helicopter was one of the most nimble aircraft in the world, and wasn’t going to stand around to be hit by some long-range curses.

The curses that did get near it were easily blocked by the Shield spell cast by the Unspeakable inside.

The two Apaches swung out to the side, and then approached the terrified creatures that had just seen their biggest allies cut down to almost nothing in mere seconds.  Two M230 chain guns started to chatter, spewing over six hundred rounds a minute in a deadly lead rain storm that further cut down the creatures.

The Death Eaters, finally realising what was happening started to cast shields to protect their remaining allies.

The two helicopters, thin smoke emanating from under the turrets, flew to the side; and ropes appeared with Muggles in blue uniforms sliding down, landing and dropping flat to the ground, their machine guns pointed at the enemy.

Harry stood and shook his head, absently brushing himself down.  They’d managed to destroy sixteen of the giants – far more than he could have hoped for.

“Sorry about your giants, Tom,” Harry said cheerfully.  “I do hope they were close friends.”

“Don’t call me that,” Voldemort yelled, throwing a curse at Harry.  “You attack me with Muggles?  No Muggle can stand up to a Pure-Blood!”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.  “But as we all know you’re a half-blood, it’s hardly going to be a problem is it?”

“Capture him,” Voldemort ordered his Inner Circle.  “We can rebuild the gate, but let’s have some fun with him first.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Harry said casually.

“Why not?”

Harry grinned.  “Because it would be the signal.”

“The signal?”

Harry looked over his shoulder and then cast a spell.

The camouflage spell vanished with an audible pop.  “The signal to attack!” he yelled.

There was a high pitched whistling sound, as what looked like a mortar shell flew high into the sky and then exploded, trapping the Death Eaters underneath them in what looked like silly string.  It was only when they tried to move that they found that struggling simply made it grip tighter.

Harry whistled slowly.  The Twins and Molly had certainly come up with something impressive.

That was the start, as the Aurors, the Unspeakables and the Order of the Phoenix ran past him, taking on the startled Death Eaters.

Harry could see Pansy and Ginny hanging back, as planned, and launching a quick spell at Voldemort, distracting him from shouting orders.

Voldemort threw back a Cruciatus curse, and the battle began.

Tonks ran with the other Aurors, morphing as she did into the biggest form she could manage.  It was modelled after a Muggle she’d seen on a film once, and she had been impressed with his sheer strength.

The fact that the character’s name was ‘Bear’ amused her.

She dodged the first spell thrown at her and launched herself straight into the line of Death Eaters.  She grabbed one by the throat, and threw him hard into another.

A shouted warning later, and she morphed into a small child, using a cutting curse to chop through the robes of the Death Eater in front of her.  She ran through his legs, before changing back into ‘Bear’.  As she was underneath him, she pointed her wand up and launched a cutting curse.  The Death Eater’s high-pitched screams distracted the Death Eater next to him.  She grabbed the new Death Eater, her huge hands on each side of his head, and twisted violently.  Hearing the snap, she launched the body into the massed ranks and looked around.

A Death Eater was aiming a wand at her, so she morphed into a tall thin shape, allowing the curse to pass her by and hit the Death Eater behind her.  She took a few steps forward and started a punch.

By the time she had finished it; she’d changed again, and the punch had the force of over 300lbs of pure muscle.

Sensing another Death Eater attack, she dropped back and threw out her hand.  It was much harder on her to form non-human shapes, but she could do it.  And the razor sharp bone that appeared out of her left hand penetrated straight through the startled Death Eater’s chest.

Pulling her arm back, she could see that the Death Eaters didn’t want anything to do with her.

She laughed gleefully – her own voice sounding out of place in the big man’s chest – and leapt forward.

Tonks grabbed the wand of the Death Eater in front of her, pointing it out of the way and morphed again, first into a wiry, powerful frame that allowed her to jump above him, before she morphed again, into the fattest man she could.  400lbs of fat landed directly on the Death Eater.

She sat on him for a second, letting the body she was in absorb a few curses – it was so well insulated that even the Cruciatus curse hardly touched her.  She changed again, this time to into an oriental gymnast, and she started to twirl, a couple of daggers appearing in her hands from her robes.  She jumped from one Death Eater to the next, stabbing and slicing as she went.

Pansy looked around from the back and winced as a huge club from a giant whistled through the air, catching an Auror flush.  The Auror flew through the air but seemed to be okay.  He must have cast a defensive spell on himself.

She threw a few curses into the Death Eaters, staying back with Ginny.  It was Ron’s plan, and she did actually think it was a good one.   They were to provide back-up wherever they could, and she was not to blow her cover of being useless.

Ron seemed to take to the role of a general – even if he did look disgruntled to be directing the fight from the back, while Harry was definitely a battle-king.  Everywhere he fought, people fought harder near him.

At the moment, Harry was engaging in a cat and mouse game with Voldemort, occasionally fighting him directly, other times distracting him and fighting against some of the Death Eaters.

The field seemed to be heaving with magic as curses of all shapes and colours flew between the opposing parties.

The Manticores seemed to have been wiped out by the Muggles, and the rest of the creatures weren’t doing all that well, either.  Whenever they were in plain sight, a burst of noise from the Muggles would take care of them.

Some of the Death Eaters were falling quickly as well.  Molly Weasley was hanging back, using some of the toys she’d developed with the twins to help protect her family.  It was an action Pansy thoroughly agreed with, and one she approved of.  She could see Bill and Charlie fighting back to back – they seemed to be having a competition between them over who was taking out the most Death Eaters.  And they seemed to be enjoying it, too.

Hermione and Daphne were fighting together and seemed to be in their own personal competition as well, to see who could use the most esoteric curse against an opponent.

As one suddenly found himself made of marble, Pansy could hear Daphne shout victoriously, until Hermione turned another into plaster and then sent a curse after it that shattered the statue.

The Unspeakables were being used as shock troops.  Where ever the fighting was the thickest, you could see them, moving like the fighters they were, combining physical fighting techniques with more traditional duelling moves.

Everywhere she looked, it looked like they were winning – apart from the centre, where Voldemort and his Inner Circle were together, fighting in massed ranks.

Her parents were with the rest of the Order, fighting Death Eaters, and they seemed to be okay.

She let off a quick curse, an Impediment Jinx, at a Death Eater who was casting a curse at Gruoch, and smiled.

She turned her head slightly, checking Ginny was okay.

The girl seemed fine, and she turned back, concentrating on the fight and her boyfriend.

He was moving like he had been trained, not in the hyper extended state, but in the way he moved while he practised.  Each move was almost balletic in its graceful perfection as it flowed from one to the next, leaving a trail of devastation in his wake.

She winced again as the giants started to fight back, scattering friends and foes as they stomped around the battlefield.

Aragog watched from the side as his children fought with the others.  His heart was pounding faster than he could remember in over four decades.  It was excitement, it was violence, and it was everything he wanted as his children ran straight through some Death Eaters.

There was no sophistication in their attack; the first wave simply knocked them down, and the second wave stopping to make sure they never got up again.

He turned his head and saw one of those in black standing alone, staring at Harry’s mates.  He shook his head and clicked audibly.

One of his children, Bragon, his favourite child, disengaged from the fight, and ran straight toward the figure.

Draco crept forward slowly, his wand at the ready.  He could see two of the harlots in front of him.  The sound of curses being thrown was fighting for supremacy with the sharp barks of the weapons the Muggles were using.

He absently wiped the blood off his nose from an earlier curse and tried to decide which one to hit first.

First there was Pansy; as normal, she was at the back, cowering from the fight.  She was all very brave when her boyfriend was there to protect her, but without him, she was useless, even if she was in a prettier package.

Then there was the Muggle-loving Weasel.  She’d have made a good mistress if she hadn’t attached herself to Potter.

And it was obvious that Potter had feelings for them both.

He just had to decide which one to kill first.  He ultimately concluded that it would be the Weasel, as she could fight; and without her, Potter would be the most vulnerable.  And with her down, he should be able to get Pansy straight afterward, leaving Potter devastated with no one covering his back.

He moved a little closer, concentrating hard as Voldemort had taught him.

He dragged up all his hate for Potter, for Parkinson, for the pain that still throbbed in his hand; he blocked everyone out and started the curse that would forever end Ginny’s life, and put him at Voldemort’s right hand, where he deserved to be.

“Avada…”

He never saw the Acromantula that barrelled into him at full speed, but he felt his leg break, and he screamed with pain.

Bragon picked the Death Eater up and carried the boy toward his sire, dropping the body at his feet.  “Feed, my father,” he clicked.

Aragog clicked back gratefully, and Bragon ran back to the fight.

The spider looked down at the one in black before him.  He could see the slightly greasy blonde hair, and the youthfulness of the countenance.

He poked it with a foot, and it squealed slightly, as its limbs were probably broken.

Harry had said that he could eat the dead ones.  This one was a good as dead, wasn’t it?  “Don’t worry,” he said down to the human at his feet.

He did hate it when they got all tense before he killed them.  It made them so stringy and he always got bits stuck in his fangs.

As he lowered his head, he idly wondered why the young human seemed to think that the word “Malfoy”, would save him.

He did so love the symphony the blond sang to him as he stuck into his lunch, all his other senses trained on his children.

Fred and George looked at each other.  “We’ve got to take out those giants,” Fred said, wincing as an Acromantula was trampled by a huge foot.

“Any ideas?”

“Tie its shoe laces together?”

“Fred,” George said admiringly.  “Has anyone ever told you how brilliant you are?”

“Not recently,” Fred replied, modestly.  “And that sort of thing runs in the family.”

“Well, let’s get started,” George said as he started running toward the nearest giant.

Fred followed him, and as they dodged some curses they jumped, each landing on a foot.

“Whoa!” George yelled as he was lifted in the air as the giant took a step.  He pulled some of the string they had used earlier from his pocket and threw one end to Fred.

Fred caught it and, hanging onto the top of the giant’s boot, ran around the leg, trailing the string.

He threw it back so that George could catch it.

George did, and wrapped it around the leg he was perched on, tying it off expertly.  He pulled out his wand and cast the activation spell.

“Jump,” he yelled to his twin.

“Timber!” Fred shouted as he landed.

The string did what it was designed to do – as soon as it felt pressure, it shrunk, hard.  They’d never stress tested it, and didn’t know how well it would stand up to the extreme pressure.

The string, instead of constricting slowly, reacted and shrunk at an incredible speed.

The giant wavered for a second, before falling flat on his face with an earth shattering thump.

A cheer went up from the Aurors as the Acromantulas swarmed over the fallen giant.  It didn’t take long for it to stop moving.

Ron looked around in almost disbelief.  Their plan was actually bloody working.  It might have been a bit closer than Harry wanted; their intelligence hadn’t been perfect, but they were wiping out the Death Eaters and their allies faster than anyone would have thought possible beforehand.

They might not have had the numbers, but Fred and George, and his Mum – which was still freaking him out slightly – had been worth twenty Aurors on their own.  All over the place, Death Eaters, Orcs, and anything else that stood in their way were finding themselves immobilised or transformed into animals that were quickly squished.

And it was causing panic in the ranks of the enemy.  Everywhere they turned, they were facing people intent on killing them, and they had no training, no experience on how to deal with it.  All they had ever experienced was people running away from them screaming, never had they thought back with such skill and ability.

It really dragged home to him what Harry, Pansy, Malcom, and Gruoch had been saying – that if people had just stood up for themselves, the Death Eaters would never have gained power, and Tom would have been treated as a criminal.

The general public had been afraid of the werewolves, and they had paid for it.  He shook his head; they had been right – they were sheep, and Harry and Pansy’s plan for the future was the best thing he had ever heard – and he was going to be a part of it.  Harry had trusted him to direct the fight – trusted him, Ron Weasley; not Albus Dumbledore; not Mad-Eye Moody; not even his oldest brother Bill.

Pansy had been right; he was in the most fortunate of positions, and he had never felt luckier.  He ducked a stray curse and looked around.

He aimed his wand carefully and cast a spell the twins had taught him many years ago.  It turned to pink the robes of a group of Death Eater who were starting to get organised and fight back.

“Unspeakables, take out the Death Eaters in pink,” he roared with the help of a sonorous charm.

The Unspeakables turned, and he winced slightly as the Unspeakables showed the Death Eaters some poetic justice.

“Dobby,” he called.

Dobby appeared in a pop.

“Can you and the other elves keep an eye all around the battle and stop people from escaping?”

Dobby nodded and saluted.  “Dobby with the other elves will be doing that,” he promised.

Ron turned back to the fight and whistled under his breath.  He’d known that Dumbledore was one of the three most powerful people on the planet, and watching him fight now was proving that, but what was really surprising, was just how deadly McGonagall was.  In a way, it was reassuring; it meant that the awe in which the Gryffindor students kept their professor in was not exaggerated.

He frowned slightly, realising that while McGonagall was killing, Dumbledore was merely stunning them.  He winced – he knew what Harry had told Mad-Eye, and he didn’t want to be the one to tell Dumbledore that far from being merciful, he was sentencing them to a fate that while richly deserved, was almost worse than death.

“Paddy,” Stephan yelled.  “We need to help take down those giants.”

“Any ideas?” Paddy asked.

“Sure, a couple of hand grenades to the back of the legs – hamstring them.”

“I like the way you think,” Paddy grinned.  “You up for it?”

“Sure, you coming?”

“Of course.  You’d only fail without me.”

Stephan laughed.  “Covering fire, guys,” he shouted.

“Aye sir,” the others replied.

Stephan and Paddy looked at each other.  “On three?” Paddy asked.

“Nah, let’s just go for it,” Stephan replied.

The two took off, each holding their M16 rifles at the ready, firing as needed.  The bullets didn’t do anything against the Wizards, but they were quite effective against the smaller creatures that stood in their way.

As they got to the giants, they both pulled out a grenade.

“In the socks!” Paddy yelled, as he leaped up and deposited the hand grenade where he had advised.

“Some of us aren’t bloody mini-giants ourselves,” Stephan complained, as he shimmied up the back of the giant’s left leg, pulling the sock back, and dumping the grenade.

“Timber,” they heard someone yell, and turned to see a giant fall flat on his face.

They shrugged at each other, “Timber!” they yelled.

The grenades went off, a two second gap between them, causing the giant to fall backward and then down.

Paddy jumped as the creature landed and quickly climbed onto its face.  He could see the fear in the giant’s eyes and shrugged.  He pointed the gun straight up the giant’s nose and started to fire.

He almost didn’t hear the sound of two more voices shouting ‘Timber’ as the remaining giants were destroyed.

Remus looked around, sniffing some blood back from his nose – an Orc had caught him with a lucky punch.

He smelt something, and as he turned, he spotted a glint of sunlight reflect off a silver hand, and growled to himself.  Wormtail.

He hefted the axe he had liberated from an Orc and hid it behind his back as he ran toward the traitor.

“Remus,” Wormtail said, looking nervously around him.  “You have to understand, I was under the Imperio us.  All this time.”

“Really?” Remus said dryly, stalking toward the rat-like creature.  “Even when Voldemort was powerless, you were still under the Imperio us, and yet now you’re free?”

“Die!” Wormtail shouted, throwing a heavy punch with his silver hand toward Remus.

Remus almost smirked as he jumped backward smoothly and pulled out the axe.  As Wormtail overextended, he swung the axe down, connecting just above the wrist.

There was a spurt of blood as the silver hand fell lifelessly to the ground.

Wormtail looked down at his hand, disbelief on his face.

“Goodbye, Peter,” Remus said softly and swung the axe again, this time aiming directly for the throat.

Tonks was starting to get a little worried.  She was getting tired, and her transformations were starting to take a lot longer.  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d forced herself into so many different shapes in such a short period of time.

The Death Eater numbers were shrinking rapidly into a single group where they were surrounded.  She’d seen the shoulders slump of several as they had tried to escape and been blocked by the wards.

A few had even surrendered, and they had been stunned quickly and moved out of the fight.  The creatures she’d been worried about earlier had been wiped out by those amazing Muggles.

She thought that she knew how to fight, but they were taking it to a new level.  Some of the tactics she’d seen them employ had shocked her.  The way they covered each other had proved that without a magical shield the creatures were powerless against the Muggles.  It reversed a long held notion of hers.

And the explosion -- she’d seen them throw small objects into clumps of Orcs, and then a few seconds later, parts of the creatures would come through flying through the air accompanied by a loud bang.

She turned, rapidly firing off a couple of curses at a Death Eater, relying more on magic now.  She didn’t think she had many changes left, and was actually in her original form because she didn’t need to concentrate to maintain it.

Harry’s plan on bringing in the Muggles had meant that the Aurors and the Order had concentrated solely on the Death Eaters.  And from what she could tell, Harry had influenced that as well.

She ducked another curse and threw a couple back in return as she twisted around, checking all angles as she moved nearer to the Death Eaters gathered in a circle.

The Order had always been good in a fight – it’s what they did, after all, but she had never seen her fellow Aurors fight so well before, and noticed some of the moves they were using were Unspeakable moves.

The Unspeakables were giving her the creeps – and she was really glad they were on their side, because they fought viciously, using the same curses that the Death Eaters did.

She turned quickly as the feeling of magic in the air started to grow, and she was thrown backward – as was everyone else.

She groaned as she landed awkwardly and then picked herself up slowly and felt her mouth open.

Voldemort had cast a spell, Pansy and Ginny were being held by some Death Eaters, and Harry was facing Voldemort alone.  Above and around them was a red shield spell.

She cast a curse at it to see what would happen, and the shield simply absorbed it.

“Trust Harry!  Get the rest of the Death Eaters!” she heard Ron yell, and she turned to help, realising that everything now rested on Harry.

And she couldn’t think of another person she would trust in his place.

Augustus Rookwood turned to his companion.  “I’m out of here,” he whispered.  “I didn’t sign up to be killed.  I can’t believe they’re doing it.  When the hell did the Aurors learn to fight like that?”

“People know you’re a Death Eater though,” his companion said, throwing a killing curse at a target and then swearing as it missed.

“I’ll just claim to have been under the Imperio us this time,” Rookwood shrugged.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” the other said.  “Quick, let’s go.”

They both turned, shrugging off their robes and crawling away, and then they looked up as they heard a noise.

“Dobby is being sorry,” Dobby said formally.  “But Death Eaters are not being allowed to leave.”

“Out of the way, scum,” Augustus snarled.  “Or I’ll show you exactly how Voldemort likes to play with the Muggles.”

“Dobby is feeling sorry for you,” Dobby said softly.  “But Dobby is not letting you leave.”

Augustus pulled out his wand; Mulciber mimicked him.  They were about to cast the Cruciatus curse to show the uppity house-elf his place when another twenty elves arrived.  Before they could do anything, the elves all threw their hands forward together, and both Death Eaters flew through the air.  It was only when they landed painfully that they found that they were back in their Death Eater robes.

And that the Acromantulas were coming for them.

Harry shook his head, trying to clear the ringing out of it, and picked himself off the ground.

Voldemort had started to look worried as they had half-duelled.  The Dark Lord wasn’t used to be ignored, and Harry had tried as hard as he could to avoid a direct confrontation.

It was only when the four giants had been taken down at the same time that Voldemort had started to change his tone.

He had cast a stunning spell at Harry that was a lot more powerful than Harry had expected, and he’d ended up on his back.

To his left, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and a couple of other Death Eaters were standing in a small group.  To his right, Crabbe and Goyle – both generations – were holding a passive Pansy and Ginny.

Voldemort was smirking at him.  “You can never win, Potter.”

Harry sighed.  “Did you get that from the Big Book of Bad Guys Clichés ?”

“If you move, my loyal servants will kill them both,” Voldemort said with a slight hiss of pleasure.

Harry froze, swallowing hard.  “What do you want, Voldemort?”

“Oh, now you are polite,” Voldemort hissed.  “But I think it’s time you choose.”

“Choose what?”

“Which one dies.  Of course, if you don’t choose, I’ll kill them both.”

Harry glared at him, desperately trying to think of what he could do.  He felt something brush against his Occlumency shields, and let them down a little, as he recognised Pansy’s touch.  Strangely enough, it appeared to have Ginny’s mind with it.

He looked at them, first Pansy, and then Ginny, and felt their confidence.

“No, I will not choose,” Harry stated firmly.  “I will not be forced into this.  You can kill them, Tom, but I will not let you play your games with me.”  He slid his hand down, reaching for his knife, his thumb flicking off the catch that held it in place.

Voldemort snarled in anger.  “Kill them both,” he ordered.

Lucius and Bellatrix pointed their wands at Ginny and Pansy.

“Avada Kedavra !” they shouted in unison.

And everything started to change.

Harry threw his knife in an arc toward Ginny.

Ginny and Pansy, moving in a strange synchronicity, both dropped to the floor, tearing their arms out of their captivity.  As they hit the floor, Ginny bounced to her feet, diving to her left and catching the knife Harry had thrown.

She turned – the curses had hit both the Goyles – and darted forward straight at the senior Crabbe, the knife flicking out.  She turned to see that Pansy had done the same thing, ending the life of the younger Crabbe.

Ginny pulled her wand from the dead hand of the body in front of her and launched a curse straight at Lucius Malfoy.

Harry watched the two girls move almost dispassionately as he heightened his senses, preparing for the fight.

He moved as fast as he could, faster than in the DA, racing straight toward Voldemort.

The Dark Lord raised his wand in what seemed like slow motion.

He ignored the wand as he jumped into the air, spinning once under complete control.  His right foot lashed out, catching Voldemort in the chest, throwing him back.

Harry landed but didn’t stop moving; he ducked and swung his right foot in a sweep kick, smacking into Voldemort as the Dark Lord tried to rise.

Voldemort screamed as he fell backward, his hand flying out, and Harry felt himself thrown backward across the field.

He twisted so that he landed on his feet.

“Muggle tricks won’t stop me,” Voldemort sneered unsteadily.

“How about magical ones?” Harry asked, launching a couple of curses that Croaker had taught him.

The trick was to send them as quickly as you could, one after the other.  The first was a powerful stunning spell.  It was supposed to be blocked – and Voldemort did that.  It was the second curse that did the damage.  It burst through the part of Voldemort’s shield that had been weakened by the first curse, and went straight into Voldemort.

The Dark Lord screamed in pain and anger as the curse slammed into his ribs, breaking several with audible cracks.

The shield surrounding them started to shrink.

“Harry!” he heard Ginny call, as she threw his knife back at him.  He dived forward, catching it, as the shield locked Ginny and Pansy out, leaving him alone with Voldemort.

He looked down and frowned; the handle had changed, meaning that the knife had absorbed a curse.  He really hoped it had been worthwhile, as it left him without one of his back up options.

He looked up at Voldemort and noticed that the Dark Lord looked uncomfortable.

Everything became simple and completely clear.  It was him and Voldemort.  No one else to interfere – no-one else to distract.

Voldemort had locked them together, and only one would be coming out.

He almost smiled.

Pansy coughed but didn’t move.  She’d never been Summoned before, and it wasn’t something she wanted to have done to her again.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ginny next to her.  She reached out with her mind, silently casting the Legilimens spell so that she could talk to the girl.

‘Hey,’ she thought cheerfully.

‘Do we fight back?’ Ginny replied.  ‘They’re holding me so badly a two year old could escape.’

‘Not now, let’s wait for the moment we can do the most damage.’

She focused back on Voldemort, who was telling Harry to choose.  It was obvious that Voldemort was massively underestimating Harry.  If he had to, he really would choose, no matter what the cost.  Harry would not let Voldemort win.

She kept her connection to Ginny open, as she sent confident thoughts at Harry.  He couldn’t lower his shields much because Voldemort would pounce if he did.

Pansy smiled slightly as she met Harry’s eyes, and then as he looked at Ginny.

‘Ready, sweetheart?’ she asked the younger girl.

‘Yes.’

“No, I will not choose,” she heard Harry say, and she felt a shot of pride shoot through her.  He sounded so implacable, and gave the impression that nothing would stand in his way.  She could see that the answered surprised Voldemort.

Voldemort gave the order, and she watched as Bellatrix and Lucius pointed wands at them.

‘You can have Lucius, I want Bella,’ she thought to Ginny.  ‘I owe her for hurting Harry by pushing Sirius through the veil.  And you owe Lucius for the diary.’

‘Pansy,’ she heard Ginny think softly.  ‘I love you, you know that, don’t you?’

‘I know.  We love you as well,’ Pansy thought back.  ‘But we’ll talk about that after we win.’

‘Deal.’

‘Ready? Now!’

As the curse flew toward her, she dropped to the ground, tearing her arms out of their hold.  She felt the curse flash over her head and hit the body behind her.  She bounced back to her feet, reaching under her skirt for her knife and made short work of Crabbe.  She didn’t feel any regret over killing a classmate.  He was on the other side, a Death Eater wannabee and as far as she was concerned, that was the only thing that counted.

Pansy hadn’t realised she’d left the link open, but now that she had, she felt that she was influencing Ginny as much as she was being influenced.

‘Shall we take out the lot of them?’

‘Yes,’ Ginny said simply, and she launched a curse at Lucius.

Pansy threw an identical curse at Bellatrix, and grinned.  There were only six of them, and she hadn’t spent that much time practising to be stopped now.

They both ran toward the Death Eaters, ducking and dodging curses, until they were close enough to attack.

Pansy threw a stunning charm to the left, hitting the first Death Eater.  As she passed, her arm flicked out, her beautiful knife flashing through the air and cutting across the immobile throat of the Death Eater.

She jumped at the next one, Avery, her knee flying into his groin, and then her dagger piercing his heart.

“It’s just you and me now, Bella,” she smirked.  “And it’s time for you to find out what happens when you hurt one of my family.”

“He wasn’t your family, then,” Bella protested.

“Doesn’t it just make your blood boil?” Pansy asked, as she stalked toward Bella.  “All your loyalty reduced to nothing; you gave everything, even your looks, and what have you got in the end?  Death on an ancient Muggle battlefield; how fitting.”

“Shut up,” Bellatrix hissed.  “You can’t win; the Dark Lord will defeat everyone.”

“Look around, Auntie,” Pansy said mockingly.  “Look outside this shield of your Lord’s.  What can you see?”

Bella looked around, and her eyes opened wide in shock.

“You’ve already lost,” Pansy said happily.

“Help me out of here, please,” Bellatrix said.

“What about your fabled loyalty?”

Bellatrix looked tortured as she looked from the fighting Voldemort to the people outside.  A strange realisation flashed across her face, as Bellatrix Lestrange realised it had all been for nothing.

“Help me,” she pleaded again.

Pansy nodded slowly.  “Let me stun you.  You’ll have a fair trial.”

“That will do,” Bella said gratefully.

Pansy cast Petrificus Totalus at Bella, who dropped to the floor, completely immobile.  She walked over and snapped the witch’s wand in half with a contemptuous flick of her wrists.

She turned to watch Ginny.  She’d half seen the younger girl defeat Walden MacNair, using Harry’s dagger much as she had dispatched Avery.  Now she was circling with Lucius.

“Ironic, isn’t it,” Ginny taunted Lucius.  “That you created me, now I am death at your own door.”

“What do you mean?” Lucius sneered.

“When you gave me that diary, you changed me.  Without it, I would still be the shy little girl with a crush on some guy called Harry Potter.  I do thank you, Lucius, but you are still going to die for it.”

“You can’t kill me,” Lucius scoffed.

“Look at MacNair – he finally learnt what it felt like to be one of the animals he executed.  Look at what I did to Goyle, and I went to school with his son.

“We knew this day was coming – we trained for it, we worked for it, and we knew we were going to have to kill.

“Tomorrow, when we’ve won, will be the time for us to cry about it, but today – today is the day to avenge the pain and suffering you have caused and get on with our lives.”

“Crucio !” Lucius called.

Ginny raised Harry’s knife into the path of the spell, smacking the back of the handle.  The Cruciatus spell was absorbed by the knife, leaving Lucius standing still in shock.

That was all the red-haired witch needed, and the knife flew through the air, hitting Lucius right between the eyes.

“Ginny!” Pansy yelled, as she realised that the shield spell was failing.  “Get the knife to Harry!”

Ginny looked around and then ran forward, diving over Lucius, removing the knife in one motion.  She yelled Harry’s name as she threw the knife at him, the red shield going straight through her as it contracted.

A couple of the spiders moved over to Pansy, one taking away Lucius to be processed.  The other spider looked at her and then down at the still form of Bellatrix.

The elegant brunette looked down and saw the terrified eyes of the Death Eater looking up at her.  She looked her back in the eye and then winked once.  “Take away the carcass,” she told to the spider.

The spider bowed to her and picked up the frozen form of Bellatrix, running off with the body.

Pansy turned to watch her boyfriend fight and frowned.  She launched a curse at the shield and groaned as it bounced off.  She looked around, and saw Paddy and the other Marines standing around with the Aurors, watching the fight.  There were quite a few stunned Death Eaters lying on the ground behind them.

She jogged over to the Marines.  “Can I borrow your rifle?” she asked one of them, smiling at him sweetly.

He handed it over without hesitation.

“Me too?” Ginny asked, as she arrived next to Pansy.

Stephan smiled and handed her his.  “Look after it,” he requested.

Pansy grinned at him and dashed back.  She hefted the semi-automatic rifle to her shoulder, and let off a small burst at the magical barrier.

The barrier pulsed slightly.  “Fire, Ginny,” she shouted, and started to shoot straight at Voldemort’s shield.

Ginny stepped next to her, holding the rifle at waist height, and started to fire.

“Come on,” Pansy heard Croaker shout over the gunfire.  “You can see what they are doing; just make sure you’re not aiming at the two inside, in case it collapses.”

She watched as the rest of the Marines took up positions next to her.

Stephan walked over to her, Ginny holding out more ammo for when she ran out.  It was an automatic movement for her to discard the empty case and jam the new one in.

“Keep it up,” she yelled, sensing that the shield was weakening.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Paddy move nearer to the duelling Wizards.

“It’s just Harry and Voldemort,” Hermione said quietly as she walked over to the Weasleys with Daphne.  “After all of this, it comes down to the two of them.”

“Scared?” Ron asked as he joined them.

“Not really,” Hermione said with a slight smile.  “I just can’t see Harry losing.”

“Nor can we,” Malcom said, as he and Gruoch joined the growing group.  “Voldemort looks like he just can’t keep up.”

“It’s Harry’s balls,” Fred said cheerfully.  He looked exhausted as he rested against George and Charlie.

There was a round of quiet laughter as they watched.

“You know,” Bill said softly as he watched Pansy, Ginny, and the Muggles fire their weapons at Voldemort’s shield.  “I feel like we should offer to help, but they’ve got it all under control, and we’d probably get in the way.”

“I know,” Molly said with a sigh.  “I don’t ever want to know where my little girl learned to fire a gun like that.”

“They look good doing it, though,” Gruoch pointed out proudly.  “And they’re going to break through any minute, so we should probably be ready.”

“Do you really think they’ll need our help?” Arthur asked.

Malcom smiled slightly.  “Not in the slightest,” he admitted.  “But with Croaker and the Aurors cleaning up the last of Death Eaters and their Allies, we may as well catch the show.”

Harry was breathing hard.  This was a duel for his life, and even with everything he had been through, he hadn’t quite realised just how powerful Voldemort was.  With all his magic and ability, it still felt like he might not succeed.

He dodged a curse and swore under his breath.  Voldemort had taken most of his hand-to-hand combat out of the battle by refusing to get near him.  He’d tried the hyper-state again and succeeded, but the third time he had tried, Voldemort had anticipated his moves, and he’d suffered a hefty curse that left his chest really sore.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches,” he said during the break in the fight.  “Did you know that’s how the prophecy started?”

“What?”

Harry grinned.  “Didn’t you know?”  He could see Pansy firing at the shield, and kept talking, hoping that Voldemort’s arrogance would mean he would never think that the Muggle weapons were weakening his shield.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies... That’s me, in case you missed it.  You marked me.  You chose me as your doom.”

“Lies, Potter,” Voldemort sneered.  “I expect more from you.”

Harry laughed loudly.  “Oh, Tommy, did you really believe that fairytale Draco told you?  Did you really think we hadn’t set him up completely?  We told him what we wanted you to hear, and then we gave him the reason to leave.  We knew that idiot would believe what he heard and that he would exaggerate the story to impress you.  He’s always longed to be your right-hand man, Tom, in front of his father.  We knew you’d buy that pile of manure and hoped that you’d gather all your Death Eaters in one place to save us the hassle of tracking you and your cronies down, and you did it for me.

“Have you not noticed that all your allies are dead?  That all your Death Eaters are food for the Acromantulas, and that you’re alone?

“You’ve lost, Tom.” Harry finished simply.

“Incompetents, the lot of them,” Voldemort sneered.  “I can rebuild them.”

Harry could see that the shield was weakening again.  It looked like it was about to fail.

“Just so you know,” he said to Voldemort with the same studied casualness, “The Daily Prophet today printed a full page article about you, Tom Riddle, and your half-blood status.”

Tom roared with rage, and Harry started to move.  He threw two quick curses, following them with a side kick that crashed into Voldemort’s ribs.

He launched his knife forward, trying to stab Voldemort.

Voldemort caught his hand by the wrist and pushed it up.  For a few seconds, they struggled, before Harry’s superior strength started to overcome Voldemort’s desperation.  He pushed harder, and the knife sliced into Tom Riddle’s forehead, leaving a jagged cut.

“Now we’re even,” Harry gasped.  “You gave me this.  I gave you that.  It’s the sign, Tom; the sign that this is almost over.  You have no one and nothing left; everything you fought for is in ruins, and in a few seconds, you’ll be dead.”

“No!” Voldemort yelled, wiping the blood from his eye.  “I am immortal!” he continued, raising his hands to the sky.  “I can not be defeated!”

The shield fell, shattering into a million small pieces of magic, which melted into the ground.

Harry threw his right hand out. A harsh underhand throw of his knife caught Voldemort in the throat.

“Harry!” he heard Paddy shout.  He turned to see “Betsy,” Paddy’s Super Redhawk arcing toward him.  He caught it and spun toward his target.  Releasing the safety was an automatic action as he took a two handed stance and squeezed the trigger.

The powerful .44 Magnum jerked hard in his hands, the recoil pushing him back a few steps.

A large hole appeared in Voldemort’s chest, and the Dark Lord looked down, shocked.

“You know, Tom,” Harry said, absently throwing the gun back to Paddy.  “I thought that the power ‘you knew not’ at first was cordite.  Cordite is the power behind the bullet that just created the hole in your chest.

“Then I thought it was house-elf magic, but we’ll get to that in a second.  But do you know what I realised?”

Voldemort didn’t seem to be able to speak – having a huge hole through his lungs and a knife in his throat would do that – so he just glared at Harry.

“That I was being too literal.  The power is love.  Sappy, I know.  But it’s love that made me willing to risk everything to attack.  It was love that allowed me to trust Pansy and Ginny to survive when you had them captured.  It is love that everyone here is fighting for – love of themselves, of the lives they have, of their family.

“You had people who followed you out of fear, or out of what you could do for them, but not out of love.  And so, the end of Tom Marvolo Riddle is here, alone, in a field in Hastings.  Oh, I know you’re not dead.  I know that you can recover from this, all those immortality spells you cast, right?

“You’ve lost, Tom.  You’ve lost, and in the future, when people look back, you will be a small footnote in a history book; you will be mentioned as the catalyst that launched the Wizarding world into a new generation.  Children will wonder who the half-blood was, and why he is in their history books.”

Harry sighed softly and looked directly into Voldemort’s eyes.  Even with everything that had happened, the blood-red eyes were still staring at him malevolently, and his right hand twitched as he tried to raise his wand.

Harry brought his magic in front of his eyes, now fully aware that there was only one way to kill the Dark Lord.

“Pansy, Ginny,” he called.

As he had with Nott, he started to snip the strands of magic around Voldemort.

Pansy handed the rifle back to the Marine she had borrowed it from and walked over to listen to Harry.

She smiled softly as Harry repeated her own words at the real Voldemort.  After everything he had been through, he deserved the right to tell Tom what his future held.

She frowned as he stopped talking, and his eyes started to glow, and she realised what he was about to do.

“Pansy, Ginny,” Harry called.

Ginny looked up, and then at Harry, and she nodded.

They both sprinted up to Harry, just as he started to shake as the flow of magic started.

She put an arm around Ginny and pulled her close, moving against Harry.  Together, the two girls hugged Harry hard, and they felt the magic flow into them.

“Don’t hold it,” Harry yelled.

She tried to understand what he meant but couldn’t.  It didn’t make sense.

Harry put his head back and roared, a silver light coming straight out of his mouth.

Pansy did the same, seeing Ginny do it as well, and felt the magic flow through her and out her mouth.  She screamed as something raw and terrifying travelled through her, and out.  She held on tighter to Ginny and Harry, determined not to lose either of them.

The field they were on started to change; the remains of the battle vanishing as the magic swept the bodies of the dead creatures away, fixing the damage the fight had caused.

And then, it was over.

On the ground, the body of Tom Riddle seemed to disintegrate, becoming ash.

Pansy sunk to her knees, utterly exhausted, along with Harry and Ginny.

“What happened?” Ginny croaked, her voice sounding raw.

“We released Voldemort’s magic back to where it came from – everywhere,” Harry said, panting hard.  “It was too dark to keep, too corrupted.  But it means he is gone.  For good.  They can’t bring him back – because if they did, he would be a squib.  His magic is gone.”

Pansy let her head drop forward.  “Are you two okay?” she asked softly.

“I think I am,” Ginny said.

“I think I am as well,” Harry whispered.  “I can’t believe it’s over.”

“It is,” Pansy assured him.  “But now, we’ve got a stunned audience.”

“I don’t know if I can stand,” Harry whispered.

“Come on, Ginny.”

She moved Harry’s right arm around her shoulder as Ginny moved his left around hers, and they stood, holding Harry up.

In front of them, the Unspeakables, the Aurors, the Muggles, and the Order were staring at them silently.

“What happened?” Hermione asked softly.

“We released Voldemort’s magic back into the wild,” Harry said.  “It’s over; he’s dead.  That’s it.  Did anyone see what happened to Wormtail?”

“I got him,” Remus said.

“In fact,” Tonks said – the Auror had light blonde hair now and was resting tiredly against Remus.  “The only person we’ve not accounted for is Draco Malfoy.”

“I think I can help,” Aragog said as he moved over.  “My child stopped him from cursing Harry’s mates, and brought him to me.”

Pansy thought for a second and then smiled at him.  “I hope he doesn’t give you indigestion.”

Aragog laughed his dry, wheezy laugh.  “You were right about your mates,” he said to Harry.  “You run a good fight.  If you need our help again, we will be there for you.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, leaning forward in a bow.

Aragog bowed back and turned.  There was a strong breeze that blew across the field, and with it, went the spiders.

“I still don’t like them,” Ron said.  “But boy, were they useful today.”

“How many did we lose?” Harry asked.

“Fifteen Aurors,” Malcom said.

“One Unspeakable,” Croaker added.

“I think I saw about thirty Acromantulas – but they took their own bodies away.”

“What about Death Eaters?”

“I believe, Harry, that your plans were exemplary,” Dumbledore said, a wide beaming smile on his face, his eyes twinkling.  “When the Banshees found that their screams were not working, they left the field of battle rather quickly.  The remaining giants were all taken out within seconds of each other.  The Manticores and the Orcs were dealt with admirably by your friends from the Navy, and the trolls were killed during the battle.”

Harry nodded, sighing.  “And the Death Eaters.”

“Twelve surrendered, and are going to face trial.  The rest are spider food,” Ron grinned.

“Croaker,” Harry said.  “Can you make sure that the Aurors who died are given proper funerals – and that their families are looked after?”

“I will,” Croaker said.

“If I might make a suggestion,” Albus Dumbledore said.  “Why don’t we all return to Hogwarts?  We have won a great victory today, and it should be celebrated in grand style.”

Harry smiled slightly and nodded.  He looked over the field, one arm around Pansy, one around Ginny, and shook his head.  It looked pristine, as if hundreds of creatures hadn’t died a few minutes ago.  It gave everything a strange sense of unreality.

Ron, Hermione, and Daphne moved closer and joined in the hug.

“We did it,” Harry said quietly to them.  “Everything we fought for, we now have.  I couldn’t have done it without all of you.”

None of the others said anything, but they all smiled at him.

“Let’s get back and tell Blaise the good news,” he said eventually.

Dumbledore and Malcom had worked together with the twins, and their string was now a massive Portkey that everyone – including the Muggles – took hold of.  They arrived outside Hogwarts a second later.

Harry walked in and knocked on the door to the Great Hall.  There was the sound of spells being cancelled, and the door was flung open.

“You did it?” Blaise demanded, half questioning, half stating.  Behind him, Harry could see the house-elves already preparing for a large party.

Harry smiled at him and nodded.

That was the signal, finally, for everyone to erupt.

Molly, Arthur and the other Weasley brothers were the first to move, grabbing Ginny and congratulating her, celebrating together.

Ron had his own hands full.  As soon as she had seen him, Hannah had run down the Great Hall and jumped on him, plastering her lips to his.

Malcom and Gruoch both grabbed Pansy and Harry, hugging them tightly.

“You were brilliant, as was Ginny,” Gruoch said firmly.  “We knew from the start that we had done the right thing.”

Harry hugged them back and left Pansy with them as he walked over to Hermione and Daphne.  He looked at Hermione.  “I’m willing to make that promise now.”

Hermione smiled.  “I don’t need it anymore.”

Harry hugged her tightly and then turned to Daphne, hugging her as well.

All around them, people were celebrating.  The house-elves were dishing out drinks – non-alcoholic for the children – to everyone, and the noise level was high as they each described how well everyone else had fought.

Neville ran up to him, as Pansy moved over to stand with him.  “Did you get her?” he asked.  “Did you get Bellatrix?”

Harry smiled faintly and nodded his head toward Pansy.

Pansy leant forward and whispered into Neville’s ear.

Neville went white, and then red, and then lunged forward, hugging Pansy tightly.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted and kissed her cheek, before letting her go suddenly and stumbling back, looking at them both.

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered.  “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s alright,” Pansy said with a soft smile.  “We understand.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.  “Don’t worry about it, Neville.”

“Thank you.  Thank you both.  Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I’ll be there for you.  On my magic, I swear.”

Harry felt a little surprised at the depth of the boy’s commitment to them and nodded slowly.  “Thank you,” he said, accepting the magical bond he could feel in the air.  He couldn’t think of a scenario where it would come in useful, but he appreciated the gesture as it was meant, and Neville was a friend, after all.

He wrapped an arm around Pansy and looked around slowly.

The SBS and the Aurors seemed to be well on their way to getting drunk.  Dumbledore was talking to the students, telling them everything that had happened – he already looked years younger and a lot happier as he described the fight.

The Unspeakables were with Croaker.  They drunk a toast, and then split up, and starting to mingle.

He could see Stephan make a beeline straight for Amanda, and he smiled to himself.

The Werewolves were slowly coming to terms with the idea that they were welcome participants, and several looked like they were going to have a very good party.

“I can’t stay here,” Harry said suddenly.  “I need somewhere to get away from it all, to deal with what happened.”

“Mum?” Pansy asked.

“Here,” Gruoch said.  “Portkey to our place in France.  Relax there for as long as you need.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiled, taking it.

“Ginny?” Pansy asked.

Ginny looked at her brothers and then her parents and smiled slightly.  She nodded and walked over to Harry and Pansy, standing between them.

“Hermione?”

“And miss school?” Hermione said, looking shocked, before she smiled and winked at them.  “Remus still has to beat Fudge in the election,” she pointed out.  “And I want to help!”

“Don’t worry about the press,” Malcom said.  “I had a reporter at the fight that saw everything.  The Prophet will print the truth tomorrow.  And Albus and I will take great delight in telling the Wizengamot exactly what they missed.”

“See,” Hermione continued.  “I’ve got far too much to do.”  She paused for a second and smiled softly at him.  “And in the end Harry, it was down to you, and we always knew you wouldn’t let us down.  You were the one who had to do all the work, we just helped out and hung on for the ride.”

“Ron?”

“And leave Hannah? Hell no.”

Hannah smiled broadly and kissed Ron again.

“Daph?” Pansy asked.

“What?  Hell no, you three need some privacy, use the time to deal with your issues.”

Pansy started to blush lightly.

“Come on,” Harry said and activated the Portkey, swirling himself and the two girls away.

As they left, he heard Molly say, “Wait a second, what issues?  And what did that spider mean by ‘mates?”

The End…

Table of Contents

1 - Discovery

2 - Understanding

3 - Recovery

4 - Promises

5 - Planning

6 - Return

7 - Consequences (part 1)

7 - Consequences (part 2)

8 - Finishing (part 1)

8 - Finishing (part 2)