MetaFic

In addition to the normal disclaimer, I would add that the conversation between Sirius Black and Minerva McGonagall, is adapted from the UK edition of The Prisoner of Azkaban.

The end of term celebration was due to start at eight but it was nearly quarter past before they were ready to depart. In the rush to get ready, Harry hadn’t paid too much attention to what Ginny was wearing but as she emerged from their bedroom, the sight that greeted him demanded his attention. It appeared that Ginny, too, was so caught up in getting dressed that she hadn’t given Harry’s appearance a second thought, and she was brought up short by her partner’s appearance as she emerged.

There is a time in a relationship when each of the people involved becomes truly aware of the other person. It was as if the scales had dropped from their eyes as they gazed at each other hungrily, as if their recent lovemaking had never happened.

When Harry had first seen Ginny naked, he thought that there could be no lovelier sight in all creation. But seeing her in her dress robes changed all that. She was wearing a flowing robe of deepest purple with only thin straps holding it up, leaving her arms, neck and shoulders mostly bare. He was drawn to the exposed pale flesh almost against his will. There seemed nothing more important than his hands caressing it or his lips kissing her neck.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, stepping closer and leaning in to kiss her, his hands coming up to caress her. Responding to his body’s demands, he lowered his mouth to kiss the pale befreckled flesh of her throat. She moaned and tilted her head obligingly, enjoying the attention he was giving her.

“You look quite tasty yourself, Harry,” she murmured, her hands sliding over his dark-grey robes. They pulled apart, and she lightly touched her fingers to the black bands trimming the sleeves and lapels of his robes. “Sex on legs, Mr Potter,” she added, her eyes gleaming in a wicked smile.

It was gone half past when they arrived in Hogsmeade. As they walked slowly up the high street towards the school, Ginny tackled him about his time-keeping.

“Why – since you’ve been fretting about the time all day – have you now become so casual about it?”

“I would have thought that a cunning young lady such as yourself would have worked that out already.” He had begun to enjoy the banter between the two of them and the chance to test his wit against hers. Conversations with Susan had been be very dull at times, and he wondered if he had only been interested in the physical side of their relationship.

“Planning to make a big entrance then?”

He nodded.

“And, as you’ve made sure that everyone knows that you’re coming, by the time we’ve arrived, everyone would have worked themselves into a frenzy.”

He clapped his hands and beamed at her like a pleased parent.

“Good girl, Ginny.”

His cheek was rewarded with a playful shove.

“Less of the girl stuff, Harry, remember the kitchen table?”

“How could I forget?”

Never mind that, how could he forget the week? It had been so dramatic that he could scarcely believe everything that had happened to him. Their making love as the small kitchen table groaned under their combined weight had been one more amazing thing to add to a week of amazing things. A smile formed on his lips as memories of their time together returned.

There was one problem with taking Ginny to his bed; although in Muggle Law she was above the age of consent, in the wizarding world she was still a couple of months from that landmark. When he told her, she was unconcerned.

“Doesn’t bother me. It’s my body.”

“It should bother you. If someone really wanted to cause problems, they could arrest me for abducting a minor for nefarious purposes.”

“I’d like to see them try,” she said defiantly.

“Well, I wouldn’t.”

“And anyway, they can’t do that, I left of my own accord.”

“Did you leave a note to that effect with someone responsible, such as the Head Girl? Your Head of House?”

“Harry, this is ridiculous! No one would do that.”

“You know, much as I like the new, soft and cuddly girl you’ve become, you’ve begun to think less like a Slytherin.”

“No, Harry, it’s you whose thinking has gone soft. You defeated Voldemort and that means a lot.”

“Never stopped people before,” he replied sullenly.

“But this time it’s different. This time they know he’s gone. Dead, ashes scattered across the North Sea, gone.”

“I hope you’re right, Ginny.” He was counting on his status as the saviour of the Wizarding world to get him through a lot of what he had planned. Certainly the favours he had called in were all based on that. She smiled and winked at him.

“Trust me, Harry, I’m a Slytherin.”

As they approached the gates of the castle, they were met by a group of Aurors, led by Alastor Moody. The battle-scarred wizard greeted Harry warmly.

“Evening, Potter, glad to see that you’ve made it.”

“Alastor, as soon as I knew you’d be here, I couldn’t stay away.”

The two wizards laughed and began to discuss who else had arrived. Mad-Eye Moody was one of the few adults that Harry trusted. The old Auror was never one to give him an easy time of it, but once the discussion was over, he backed Harry to the hilt. Moody turned to Ginny and nodded a greeting to her. He turned back to Harry.

“So the rumours are true then, about you and the Weasley girl?”

“Depends what rumours you’ve heard.”

Moody laughed again.

“You’ve always been a good judge of character, Potter, so I’ll leave it to you. Best of luck with the evening.”

“Not going to arrest me?”

“No. There’s a few hot heads in the department that wanted to, but Kingsley put a stop to it. Watch your step, Potter, there’re a few snakes in the grass looking to take a bite out of you.”

“No toads?” Harry asked, trying hard to keep the disappointment from his voice.

“Just the one, Harry, just the one.”

As they entered the grounds, they were besieged by reporters and photographers. They had all been sent there following the publication of that evening’s Prophet, which had revealed that they would be there. Harry fielded a range of questions but refused to be drawn on anything about Ginny and focussed on other issues. But the reporters became insistent until they only asked questions that concerned her.

“But surely, Mr Potter, you are aware of Miss Weasley’s reputation.”

Harry forced himself to smile and pulled Ginny close to him.

“All I know is that this wonderful lady has consented to be my partner for tonight.”

The reporters didn’t give up.

“And is marriage on the cards?”

Actually, yes, thought Harry.

“Miss Weasley is not of age.”

“But, Mr Potter, Harry…”

But Harry was finished answering questions. He knew that a tougher test faced them inside and wanted to get that over with as soon as he could.

When they entered the great hall, things were in full swing and they went unnoticed for a few moments. Then a whisper went around the hall, and the band stopped playing. Every conversation ceased and everyone turned to face them. They walked toward the middle of the dance floor and the crowd of dancers parted.

“Harry, I have a bad feeling about this,” said Ginny, as they moved across the hall.

“Don’t worry, it’s all under control.” He smiled reassuringly, hoping that his nerves didn’t show.

Harry looked over to Myron Wagtail, the band’s lead singer, and nodded. They began to play and Harry and Ginny began to dance. For a few minutes, they kept their eyes only on each other, not daring to look elsewhere. They knew that their behaviour had to appear as normal as possible to everyone looking on. It was a Friday night, and what could be more normal than for a young wizard to take his girlfriend dancing? Harry knew that there would be battles to be fought before the evening was out, but those, he was prepared for. What he couldn’t accommodate was someone else getting involved, especially if it happened in the middle of the dance floor.

Gradually, the other couples began to dance again. The whispers and stares did not stop but their first goal had been accomplished. He gazed at Ginny and saw that she was still nervous. He knew that she had survived her six years in Slytherin by avoiding confrontations and picking her battles with care. It obviously worried her that Harry was prepared to go head to head with his enemies, especially when they were some of the most powerful witches and wizards in the land.

By the time the band had started their third number, Harry was beginning to enjoy himself, but he knew that it couldn’t last for much longer, and he was correct. During the song, he became aware of Ron and Hermione trying to get his attention.

“Psst. Harry.”

He looked over his shoulder and saw his two friends trying to beckon him over as they danced. Ron, never the best of dancers, was having difficulty leading Hermione whilst following Harry around the dance floor. For the next few minutes, Harry led his friends on a merry chase, much to Ginny’s amusement.

“Shouldn’t you ask them what they want?” she asked, smiling as the couple tripped for the second time.

“I know what they want; it can wait. I want to dance with you for a bit longer. I’ve had seven years talking with them and only a few days with you.”

But Ron and Hermione were not to be denied, and eventually Harry relented. As his hot and flustered friends tried to calm themselves, Harry had to fight to suppress a laugh. He had spent the week chasing shadows whilst they looked on and he had enjoyed making them chase him.

“Harry, we must talk to you.”

“Why, Ron? Why must I talk to you? Can’t it wait?”

Ron looked nervously at his sister and whispered: “It’s about Ginny.”

“Okay, talk away, I’m all ears.”

“So is everyone else, Harry,” hissed Hermione, “we need to talk in private.”

“Don’t you want everyone to know the truth, Hermione? “

“Everyone knows the truth.” Her voice did not match the confidence of her assertion and Harry made sure she knew.

“We’ll see.”

As soon as it became clear that Harry wouldn’t change his mind, Ron and Hermione left them. Harry was glad. He didn’t want to argue with his friends if he could help it. He turned his attention back to Ginny and they started to dance again.

“You’re very quiet tonight.” Normally she wouldn’t have let the opportunity to wind up Hermione pass so easily, and her silence troubled him.

He needn’t have worried.

“You’re doing such a good job without my help, and besides, I want to savour every moment of tonight before it ends. I feel like Cinderella.”

“Don’t worry, at midnight I’ll still be here, and so will you.”

“Not if she has anything to do with it.” She nodded over Harry’s shoulder and he turned to see a very agitated Molly Weasley fighting her husband’s efforts to calm her down.

He swallowed and put on a brave face. “Don’t worry about your mum.”

“Really, Harry? I thought Gryffindors were brave but not stupid.”

She was right to be wary, but now they had reached the crux of the evening and it was time to enter the fray.

“Trust me, Ginny. Now that the protagonists are beginning to assemble, I think we’re ready to start.”

Harry led Ginny slowly from the dance floor towards her parents. He knew from Moody that there were some who had come to the castle tonight to do battle with him, but Molly and Arthur Weasley had not. Their concern was for their daughter; wayward and belligerent she might be, but they still loved her. Now all he had to do was persuade them not to whisk her off to The Burrow.

Ginny’s parents nodded a greeting and Mr Weasley extended his hand towards her.

“Thank you, Harry,” said Mr Weasley. “We’ll take it from here.”

But Ginny’s hand remained firmly attached to Harry’s.

“We’re very grateful to you for finding her, Harry,” added Mrs Weasley, stepping forward to grab Ginny, “but she needs to go home now. She’s had a busy few days and I’m sure she’ll be glad of a proper bed and a good meal.”

Harry made to move in front of Ginny but she stopped him.

“No, Mother, I don’t need to come back to The Burrow. I’ve spent plenty of time in bed in the last 48 hours and Dobby has made sure that I haven’t gone hungry.”

“What do you mean, plenty of time in bed? And what do you mean about Dobby? He works here; have you been here all the time?”

“No, Mother, I’ve been at Harry’s.”

Mrs Weasley’s face dropped and she flushed scarlet, first with embarrassment and then with anger.

“Harry Potter, after all we’ve done for you, you go and repay our friendship by taking advantage of our daughter. She’s not of age, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

It was the reaction that Harry had expected, and despite her accusation, he didn’t resent her for it. Yes, she had flown off the handle, acted without thinking, but that was the way she was. If Molly Weasley had stopped to think of the consequences of her actions, she would have never allowed him to enter The Burrow. Ginny was less understanding.

“Mother, shut up, you’re making a fool of yourself–”

“Er… dear,” interjected Mr Weasley, “we’re gathering quite a crowd. Ah, Minerva, could we take further advantage of your hospitality and use your office?”

Professor McGonagall had emerged from wherever she’d been observing, proceeding as surely as Harry knew she would. He had also been counting on the main confrontation taking place away from the Great Hall.

“Molly, Arthur. I was going to suggest the same thing. There are a number of other people who would like to talk in private to Mr Potter and Miss Weasley.”

In the end, it was quite a circus that gathered in the head’s study. Harry, Ginny, Molly and Arthur were joined by Ron, Hermione, and the two relevant Heads of House, Sirius Black and Nymphadora Tonks.

“Is that all?” asked Harry sarcastically. “I’m disappointed at such a poor turn out.”

As soon as he’d finished speaking, the door opened and into the room stepped the Deputy Minister of Magic, Dolores Umbridge, and the former Potions master, Severus Snape. The office was a bit cramped, but enough comfortable chairs were conjured to seat everyone.

“Now we’re all here, we can begin,” said McGonagall.

“Not yet,” said Harry. As if waiting for his cue, the door opened again and into the room stomped Alastor Moody.

“Thanks for waiting, Potter.” The old wizard was a bit breathless, but Harry reasoned that rushing from the gates to the office was a bit of a trek for a man with one leg.

“My pleasure, Alastor, wouldn’t want you to miss the fun now, would we?”

Their conversation was interrupted by Snape, who was his normal rude and bad-tempered self.

“What is that doing in here?” demanded Snape, glaring at Harry whilst pointing at Moody. “Headmistress, I demand that he is removed forthwith.”

“He stays,” said Harry. “He was in the Order and an Auror in both wars against Voldemort; he deserves to hear what is said tonight.”

“Headmistress, Minerva, this cannot continue, I insist that he is sent back to his duties without delay. I also don’t see the need for Potter and his friends to stay here, either. We can deal with the Weasley girl better if they’re not here to interfere.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Snape?” said Moody, advancing on the former professor. “Five adults against one girl, about your odds, isn’t it?”

To Harry’s surprise, Dolores Umbridge stepped between the two men before things got out of hand.

“Hem, hem. Auror Moody,” she said in the simpering voice that Harry hated, “I might be wrong in this, but I thought for a moment that you were accusing Severus of unseemly behaviour.”

“I’m sorry if you thought that, Madam, that wasn’t my intention. I was calling him a bully and a coward.”

“Auror Moody, that accusation is quite uncalled for. Severus is a loyal servant of the Ministry, and a highly regarded one, too.”

She turned to Snape and gave him a sickly smile that he ignored. Whatever benefits Snape gained from being allied to Umbridge, Harry could see that it came at a high price to the man.

“He earned our gratitude when he was instrumental in the capture of the werewolf, Remus Lupin. The Wizarding world can never thank him enough for his work in putting the man who betrayed Harry’s parents behind bars.”

She turned back to Harry, who glared at her. It was easier for him to hear Voldemort call him by his first name than the former Hogwarts High Inquisitor. He also had difficulty in equating the sallow man who stood next to her as the avenger of his parents’ betrayal.

He glanced at Ginny, who had gone very pale. He knew, in spite the brave face she was putting on to the rest of the world, that she was growing increasingly concerned. Ron and Hermione were making no effort to intervene, either thinking that the adults could be left to deal with Ginny fairly, or cowed by the sheer number of heavy hitters in the room.

“I’m not going anywhere,” declared Harry, fixing Snape with a steely glare, “not least because I’m not going to let a low-life like you deal with the woman I love.”

Harry glanced over at Ginny who was staring at Snape, eyes narrowed, watching his every move.

Snape sneered at him, exposing his crooked yellow teeth.

“Sweet talked you whilst giving you her favours, has she, Potter?”

Before Harry could reply, Ginny pulled her wand on Snape, who was unfortunately quicker on the draw than she was. However, as soon as the words of the curse had started to form on his lips, his wand turned into a bunch of flowers.

Thankful that at least part of the twins’ efforts was bearing fruit, Harry allowed himself a quick smile.

“How nice of you, Severus, to give Ginny flowers, but I think roses are her thing, not lilies.” With a wave of his wand, he Vanished the flowers.

“Fred and George?” asked Ginny, looking relieved.

“Fred and George,” confirmed Harry. He turned his attention away from the two former members of staff and addressed the others in the room.

“Now, unless anyone else has any other objections, I suggest we carry on as we are. Headmistress?”

“Thank you, Harry.” The Headmistress seemed relived that Harry’s confrontation with Snape and Umbridge had not escalated. “Miss Weasley, please do not pull out your wand in my office again, or there will be severe consequences.”

Ginny glared at her, and Harry could see why; McGonagall had rebuked her and not Snape.

“Now, Harry, am I right in assuming that our gathering together like this is no accident?”

As she looked at him, seeking confirmation of that, he was worried that she would call a halt to everything. But after receiving a nod from him, she carried on.

“And that you have some greater purpose in gathering us all together in this manner? Other than to watch grown men squabble, that is.”

Harry took a deep breath. He felt like a fictional detective, gathering all of his suspects together in the final chapter of a book. He just hoped that this tale had a happy ending, too.

“A good place to start would be where you’ve been, and why you ran away from school,” said Mrs Weasley. “We’ve been worried sick about Ginny, though that’s par for the course with that one.”

“Molly,” said her husband, placing a soothing hand on her shoulder, “let’s hear what they have to say before we start making judgements.”

At Harry’s prompting, Ginny began her account of the last few days, starting with the planning meeting and ending with Harry finding her. Apart from a few questions from Hermione seeking clarification, there were no interruptions. He was pleased to see that Ginny left out the more risqué parts of their time together, and was impressed by her ability to fill in the gaps without making it seem that she’d left anything out.

She’s a good liar, he thought. He was suddenly struck by the thought that she could have been lying to him after all and that he’d been played for a fool. But when she looked to him for reassurance, a wave of guilt swept over him, and he chided himself for his lack of faith. Tonks obviously thought the same thing, and so challenged Ginny on the bits she’d left out.

“Come on, girl, you’ve left a few things out there. Tell us it all.”

He saw a feral grin form on Ginny’s face as she went on the attack.

“If you really want me to, Professor? Where do you want me to start? How about how it felt when Harry’s hands first–”

“That is enough!” shouted McGonagall. “Do I take it, Miss Weasley, that the only bits that you have missed out of your tale relate to the more intimate parts of your relationship with Mr Potter?”

“Yes, Professor,” she relied, more demurely than Harry had thought possible.

“Then you may continue from where you left off.”

“There’s nothing more to add, really.” She turned to Harry, pleading with him not to make her tell it all.

“I’m sorry, Ginny,” he said, “but you need to continue. They need to know it all.”

Slowly, nervously, Ginny carried on her tale, her face growing paler and paler as she did so. She faltered when she described her reasons for hating Harry. Ron and Hermione looked suitably guilty at their part in it.

When she described how the Slytherin common room had become a haven for Voldemort’s supporters, McGonagall was livid and berated Black with a vehemence that shocked Harry.

“You mean to say you knew that Malfoy and his cronies were doing all this in the school and you did nothing about it?”

“What was to be gained by fighting him? His spies were everywhere; it was only a matter of time.”

"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard that ever existed?" said McGonagall, with a terrible fury in her face. "Only innocent lives, Sirius!"

"You don't understand!" whined Black. "He would have killed me!"

"Then you should have died!" she roared back. "Died rather than betray those who have put their trust in you.”

“It’s easy for you to say that now; you weren’t there.”

“And you were and you failed everyone.”

Before Black could try and escape, the adults in the room had reacted, and they pulled out their wands on him to prevent him doing so.

It was Moody who spoke and acted first. “It seems that it’s a case of Black by name, Black by nature – Incarcerous!”

“What are you going to arrest me for, Mad-Eye? Loitering with intent to listen to Potter droning on?”

“No, Black. Failure to report the Death Eater activity within the school fits in very well with my definition of treason, or at the very least, conspiracy. And anyway, you’d be surprised the laws Fudge forced onto the statute books as his time as minister came to an end. I’m sure we’ll find something to deal with scum like you.”

He turned to McGonagall. “If you’ll excuse me, Minerva?”

Moody led Black away. As he passed Harry, the Slytherin leered at him. “You know, Harry, she’s a good shag, isn’t she?”

Harry stared at the retreating form, not quite sure how to respond. Ginny, sensing his unease, moved to reassure him.

“He always was full of himself. He tried it on with most of the girls once they took their OWLs.”

Professor McGonagall moved to back her up. “Mr Black has proved himself to be a disreputable liar. Don’t pay any heed to what he says, Harry.” She left him to Ginny’s comfort and turned to the rest of her guests. “Now, I think we could all do with a break; tea, anyone?”

She conjured a large teapot and cups, and the atmosphere improved somewhat. Such conversation that there was, was limited to the groups that people had arrived in. Tonks exchanged a few words with the Head, whilst Snape gave monosyllabic responses to Dolores Umbridge. Harry used the break to encourage Ginny.

“I know it’s hard, but it’s nearly over.”

“I know, Harry, it's just… it’s just the looks on their faces as I speak. I can tell they don’t want to believe a word I say.”

“What they want to believe isn’t the issue. We’re here to force them to face up to the truth. We’ve dealt with the first one, now we’ve got to tackle the second.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone, Harry. Are you sure that you can trust my brothers?”

“I’m sure I can. Even Snape and Umbridge are safe, unfortunately.”

By the time Moody returned, Ginny was ready to continue. It didn’t take long for the previously tense atmosphere to return once she’d started. This time she described her conversations with Dumbledore and the work she’d done in uncovering the Horcruxes. As she spoke, Hermione refused to meet her eye. Once it became clear that Ginny was claiming the credit for identifying the Horcruxes and working out where they were hidden, Ron was indignant.

“That’s a lie,” he shouted. He turned to his girlfriend, looking for her agreement. “Isn’t it, Hermione? You found them, not her.”

Hermione looked confused, unsure how to respond. When she finally spoke, her voice lacked its normal certainty.

“Yes, I did, no, wait…” but she was too late and she let out a wail as her nose began to extend outwards, causing Harry and Ginny to grin.

“No, I didn’t find them. Well, I did find the last one...” her nose began to grow again and she screamed, causing Ron to pull out his wand and Ginny to laugh as another bunch of flowers appeared in front of her. When Hermione eventually managed to calm herself, she made sure everyone heard her.

“Okay, I admit it. I didn’t work it all out. I don’t know who did.” As her nose started to shrink, she recovered some of her poise. “I did manage to locate the last one after finding some notes about it in a book in the library.”

Her nose shrank back to its normal size and Harry Vanished the bouquet. Ron and Hermione retreated into a corner, where Ron comforted her. As Ginny continued her story, Hermione’s curiosity got the better of her, and she listened avidly.

They had now reached the most harrowing part of the story, and Ginny stopped several times to collect herself. Harry held her hand all the way, and even Snape listened quietly. When she reached the Death Eaters’ attack on Hagrid’s Hut, she was barely able to continue. Her mother fainted when Ginny described how she’d killed Daphne Greengrass. Whilst Mr Weasley tried to revive her, Snape pounced. He snatched up Ginny’s wand and pointed it at her.

“Seize her! She’s a murderer! Moody, don’t just stand there, arrest her.”

“I think you’re missing the point, Severus,” said Moody with more than a trace of humour in his voice, “as usual. Isn’t that right, Dolores?”

Umbridge looked uncomfortable with all eyes in the room on her. Even Arthur Weasley looked up from comforting his now-revived wife.

“I think you’ll find that you are incorrect, Alastor, the law states that–”

The rest of the sentence was forgotten as the Deputy Minister’s nose started to extend. Observing the spell on others apparently gave Hermione a better appreciation of its complexity and she seemed unable to resist complimenting Harry. He knew it was likely also caused by the fact that she had always loathed Umbridge.

“Oh very good, Harry,” said Hermione, “do you think that you could turn Ron into a real boy, too?”

Umbridge looked confused until Professor McGonagall spoke. “I think that you’ll find that telling the truth will return your nose to its original state.”

Moody stomped forward to place himself in between Snape and Ginny.

“Put the wand down, Snape. I doubt that Potter would allow you to attack his girlfriend with impunity, so do yourself a favour and sit down.”

Umbridge appeared to have learned from her previous encounters with Harry, and backed away from a confrontation.

“It is Ministry policy, Severus, to seek to negotiate rather than use force. I feel that in this instance, strong though your desire for justice may be, an alternative course of action may be better advised.”

“But Madam Deputy!” protested Snape, the wand still firmly pointed in Ginny’s direction.

“Lower your wand, Snape!” yelled Moody, annoyed that he was being ignored.

“Please, put the wand down, Severus,” came a new voice from the doorway, “Auror Moody is right, the Weasley girl is not a murderer.”

Into the room walked Amelia Bones, Minister of Magic. She nodded a brief greeting to Harry, before continuing. “I’m sorry I’m late; the note you sent appeared to have ended up on someone else’s desk. Dolores?”

Her Deputy stared back at her, a sickly smile on her face. “It appears, Minister, that the extra security checks that had been put in place might have delayed the delivery of the note to your office.”

As Umbridge prevaricated, Harry was surprised to see that her nose didn’t grow as before. That either meant that there was enough of the truth in what she was saying not to trigger the charm, or that the magic the twins had cast was beginning to fade. Either way, it was a worrying development, one he hoped wouldn’t come back to haunt him.

“Whilst it is regrettable that this has happened, I’m sure all of us would sleep easier at night knowing that the Minister…”

Her voice trailed off at the monocled glare that she received from her boss.

“You’re not late,” lied Harry, hoping the itching in his nose meant nothing more than a desire to sneeze. “In fact, your timing is perfect, isn’t it, Severus?”

His former professor declined to comment, but his dark eyes showed the hatred that burned within.

“Dolores was about to explain why Ginny wasn’t a murderer, weren’t you, Dolores?”

She turned to Harry, her toad-like face twitching with barely concealed anger. “Don’t you want to tell them, Harry?” Her voice was simpering and yet carried overtones of menace. But he was not to be cowed. He had too much at stake and he was going to make her dance to his tune for once.

“No, Madam Deputy Minister, I think it’s best they hear it from you.”

“Actually, Harry,” interjected Madam Bones, “I think it’s best they hear it from me. That way, there can be do doubt that it is the truth, a commodity that appears to have been in short supply recently.

“At the height of the war, the Wizengamot met in secret to discuss some emergency powers. We knew that Harry was fated to a final confrontation with Lord Voldemort but we were also worried that if he had to use an Unforgivable to defeat him, then someone might decide to launch a prosecution against him.”

“A ‘We’ve lost the war, but we can still put Potter in prison’ sort of thing?” asked Tonks.

“Exactly so, Professor Tonks, and that wasn’t something that the Wizengamot could allow to happen. We were also concerned that they might do the same against an Auror.”

“Were Aurors permitted to use Unforgivables?” asked Tonks.” We were never allowed to do so when I was in the Ministry.”

“They were allowed to use the Killing Curse if it was a life or death situation. So a law was passed in secret that stated that if, during a Death Eater attack, someone killed a Death Eater, then they couldn’t be prosecuted for it. It was meant to cover only Harry and the Aurors but–”

“But it actually covers everyone,” said Harry, smiling. The Minister looked puzzled at this revelation. “I know; I got Percy to check for me.” The Minister nodded with understanding that Harry had taken care over his choice of battleground.

“And the attack on Hagrid’s hut was confirmed as a Death Eater attack, wasn’t it?” asked Moody, visibly enjoying the way Harry was taking things.

“The report submitted by the officer in charge and approved by the appropriate persons confirmed that this was indeed the case.”

“But they were merely children,” declared Snape, who obviously hadn’t given up yet. “They didn’t know what they were doing.”

The Minister turned to him, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Open your eyes, Severus, most of them had taken the Dark Mark; they knew exactly what they were doing.”

“So the girl gets off on a technicality,” he spat, the disgust on his face there for all to see.

“No, she gets off because the law was drafted for exactly this sort of situation.”

“So the killing of Daphne Greengrass wasn’t murder and Ginny can’t be sent to Azkaban?” It was Molly Weasley who spoke, the hope in her voice mirrored in her face.

“No, Mrs Weasley, your daughter is no more a criminal than Harry is, and he is far from that.”

“So Weasley’s a hero then?” asked Tonks, still looking for answers. “It still doesn’t explain about Robards’ death. Wasn’t she the one who told the Death Eaters where he and his team were?”

“I’m glad you brought that up, Tonks,” said Harry. “I was wondering how to introduce that into the conversation. Minister, from what I understand, the information which led to Robards’ and his team going to that mill to investigate came from our friend Severus here, am I correct?”

“I believe that is the case, yes.”

Harry noticed the reluctance in her voice and suspected that he was leading matters into an area where perhaps the Minister had unfinished business. He didn’t want to jeopardize any investigation that was being carried out, but he was determined to get Ginny’s name cleared.

“That’s okay, Minister, Percy has copied the reports for me so I’ll just carry on, shall I? Alastor, how many raids did you go on which were based on information from Snape?”

“About four or five.”

“And how many of those raids were successful?”

“None. We lost good people on all of them.”

“Bit of a coincidence isn’t, Severus?”

Snape did not answer and so Harry turned to the Minister for support. She gave him an almost imperceptible shake of her head. This was clearly an area where he would get no support from her tonight. He was disappointed, but he was wise enough to realise that some battles could be won and others had to wait for another day.

There was a slight pause before Umbridge and Snape decided to take advantage of the lull and leave whilst they could.

“I think it’s time we left,” said the Deputy Minister, “Come, Severus, we have work to do.”

As Harry watched them leave the office, Moody stomped up to him.

“Good try, Potter. I’ve had my doubts about him for years. I’ll do a bit of digging, see what I can unearth now.”

Harry looked over at the Minister, but she wasn’t going to be drawn on this one. He turned back to Moody.

“You might want to visit Remus Lupin as well. I think there’s more going on there than meets the eye.”

“I will, Potter. You’ll let me know if you hear anything else?”

“I will, Alastor.”

Moody left to check on the security for the evening, leaving Harry with Madam Bones.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful, Harry. Those two still have a lot of friends in the Ministry so I have to tread carefully, but what you’ve said tonight won’t be forgotten. And now I must go; I’m sure my daughter won’t forgive me if I don’t spend at least some time with her.”

He watched her depart with mixed feelings. He was grateful for her help, but knew deep down that, as a politician, she couldn’t be relied upon to pursue the truth at all costs. He was surprised that she had made no comment about him and Susan, but thankful too. He didn’t fancy explaining that one to her.

He turned to see that the others in the room were waiting, trying to judge the most appropriate moment to approach them. Harry couldn’t decide whether he wanted to accept their apologies or not. In the end, he concluded that it wasn’t his choice anyway, it was Ginny’s.

Tonks was the first. She strode purposefully towards them with an assuredness of foot that belied her reputation as a lumbering oaf.

“I’m sorry, Ginny,” said Tonks, “I rather believed everything I was told. Not much of an Auror me, eh? I’m not asking you to forgive me – well, I am, but I understand why you wouldn’t want to. Perhaps if you see me walking down the street, you’d consider not crossing the road to avoid me?”

The briefest of smiles crossed Ginny’s lips but she said nothing. He understood that Ginny was accepting the apology she was given, but forgiveness would take a lot longer.

The Headmistress was similarly apologetic.

“I feel that the school has done you a great disservice, Miss Weasley, and I have been wrong in my judgment of your character. I hope that, over time, you may be able to forgive me and that we will see you on the first of September.”

Again Ginny was noncommittal, and McGonagall seemed to understand in the same way Tonks did that these thing would take time.

As Ron and Hermione approached, Harry was filled with dread. He knew that there was a real possibility that Ginny would take her revenge on Hermione and that he would be forced to choose between the two of them. There was no question that he would choose Ginny, but that didn’t mean that it would be easy to take sides against Hermione. It was harder than he’d thought. It didn’t help that Ron spoke the most and that he was defensive about everything.

“How were we supposed to know?” Ron demanded, when Ginny was less than accepting of Hermione's apology. “You don’t seem that bothered about Harry, so why are you giving us such a hard time?”

“She knew more than Harry and did nothing about it about. At least when Harry thought something was up, he cared enough to act.”

It was clear that nothing was going to be resolved and so Harry intervened.

“Ron, I think this might be better left until another time.”

Ron went to protest but Hermione pulled him away.

“Come on, Ron, Harry’s right, this is best left for another time.” She smiled apologetically at Harry before leading Ron away, still protesting. Harry gave her a nod and look that said he understood. As his friends departed, he turned to Ginny.

“You’re going to have to forgive them sooner or later you know.”

“Who says?”

“I do.”

“So are you going to make me forgive and forget?”

“No.”

“What then?”

“If you don’t forgive, then it will eat away at you from the inside, filling you with bitterness.”

“And what if I’m happy to be bitter and twisted for the rest of my days?”

“Then it’s you that’ll suffer and not them. They’ll carry on as normal, and you’ll be the one who’ll lose out.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Harry heard a small cough behind him and he looked around to see that Mr and Mrs Weasley were waiting to talk to them. How much of the row with Ron and Hermione they had heard, he didn’t know, but, as he now had a nagging headache, he hoped that it would serve as a warning that Ginny was in no mood to be patronised.

Mr and Mrs Weasley did not try to be defensive like Ron, but as Ginny’s parents, they found it difficult dealing with the situation.

“Like everyone else, Harry,” said Mrs Weasley, “we want to apologise. We owe you a great deal, not least for bringing our daughter back to us.”

“It’s not me that you need to apologise to.”

“We know, but we’re not sure that Ginny would…. Well, you know.”

“You could try.”

“Ginny,” she began, “I…we….”

Ginny launched herself at her mother, wrapping her arms around her in a fierce hug. She released the pent up emotions of the last six years in a flood of tears. The two women clung to each other as if seeking to make amends for the time they had lost. Molly wept, too, and they talked and cried until they began to laugh and cry, too. Harry found himself fighting back the tears as he looked on, the scene evoking distant memories and rekindling the yearning for the life he hadn’t lived and the pain for the life he had.

As he looked on, he felt a hand rest upon his shoulder. It was Mr Weasley. The look on his face showed such empathy that Harry wondered if he was going to get through the evening without dissolving into tears. Arthur talked softly, his eyes never leaving the scene in front of him.

“Look after her, Harry. And don’t be strangers. We have a lot of saying sorry to do to Ginny and to you, and I’d like that to start as soon as possible.”

Harry nodded wordlessly. Arthur had given them their blessing and had managed to do what no one else had managed; to ask for forgiveness and receive it.

Eventually Molly and Arthur left the two of them in the office. Harry knew that they wanted to stay, to make up for lost time, but they recognised that he and Ginny needed to be alone.

“Do you think that counts as his giving you his consent?” she asked once the door was shut and they were alone.

“Yes, I think it does.”

“Well, then?”

“Even if he has, we still need a ring.”

“We’ll just have to go shopping tomorrow, then.”

He could see that she was hiding her disappointment. After all, it would have been a perfect end to the evening – let alone the week – to return to the great hall and dance the night away with his ring on her finger.

Without commenting, he dipped into his pocket and took out a small black velvet box that he’d removed from his vault earlier. He placed it on the desk and opened it. Inside there was a diamond solitaire ring set in 18 carat yellow gold. And from the look in Ginny’s eyes, it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. He slid it onto her finger and the magic in the ring caused it to glow as it changed its size to fit its new owner. Harry took hold of her hand.

“Ginny,” his voice was quaking as he spoke, “will you marry me?”

She placed her hand on his, beaming as she did so. “Yes, Harry, I will.”