MetaFic

Harry lowered the cowl of his cloak at Sirius’ prodding. The girl, Ginny, looked to his eyes first, which Harry thought unusual. What few magical outsiders he had met normally looked at his scar, and he smiled slightly at Ginny’s unique response. He watched silently as a myriad of emotions flashed across the girl’s face. After a moment, her eyes began to glisten. She glanced quickly at Sirius and then back to Harry. The last vestige of her confusion vanished, and her eyes shot wide open. "You!” she gasped and immediately blurted, “But… but… you're supposed to be... dead!"

Harry turned abruptly to Remus and Sirius. “Dead?” he asked incredulously. “You never told me I was dead! When did I get dead? You told me some rubbish about secretly moving from clinic to clinic looking for the right sort of Healer!”

Sirius flashed a sheepish grin and then stammered, “The whole uh… ‘dead’ story began to crop up some years ago. Harry, no one had heard anything about you, other than unconfirmed rumours, for a long time. It really gathered steam when you were not aboard the Hogwarts Express or at the Sorting Ceremony last year. We decided to… to let that story develop… by itself.” Sirius’ grin was now a weak smile.

“And how were you going to reintroduce me to the world?” Harry said, extremely annoyed at hearing this, especially at that moment.

“Oh… Ah… Moony old chap, had we actually thought that far ahead?”

Remus’ jaw dropped, and he slowly shook his head. “Padfoot, I thought you had that figured out!”

Hearing the two men use their Marauder nicknames, Harry warily took a step away from them.

“Well, you’re supposed to be the brains,” Sirius whined. He gazed at the floor, stroked his chin and tapped his foot, with what appeared to be deep thought. Suddenly he snapped his fingers, a gleam of triumph in his eyes. “We can have him just pop out!”

“I beg your pardon? ‘Just pop out?’” McGonagall asked, puzzled. “Pop?” she repeated slowly, still not comprehending. “Out?”

“Yes!” Sirius exclaimed enthusiastically as he and Remus nodded in unison. “Like one of those tarts who pops out of a cake as a surprise!” Sirius threw his arms over his head with a flourish, and they both began to snicker.

Harry stood looking between the staring girl, who was still pale with shock, and the two grinning men. His face grew hot with embarrassment, and he gave an annoyed groan. This really was not the time for a prank, even a minor one. Fortunately Ginny appeared not to have heard a word they said. Her wide brown eyes remained shiny with tears as she sought out the scar on Harry’s forehead.

Harry was thankful for McGonagall’s stern look, which stifled what remained of Remus’ and Sirius’ ill-timed humour. Dumbledore, too, gave her a nod of thanks.

Ginny’s stare refocused on Harry’s eyes. “This is real?” she whispered almost to herself. “You’re alive? You’re real?” She sobbed and wiped a tear from the side of her nose. Slowly shaking her head, she dropped her gaze to the desktop before her.

“He is quite real, Miss Weasley,” Dumbledore told her kindly. “Miss Weasley,” he continued, “you must understand that Harry’s life remained in grave danger even after Voldemort’s fall. Some of his followers were as vicious as he. That fact was driven home by their attack on Frank and Alice Longbottom several weeks after Voldemort’s disappearance.”

Ginny looked up sharply at the Headmaster. “Longbottom, sir? Neville Longbottom is a year ahead of me. Were they related?”

“Frank and Alice Longbottom are Neville’s parents. He was left to be raised by his Grandmother. If he has said nothing to you, I suggest you not raise the topic with him. I doubt he would remember anything from that attack.”

Harry shrugged morosely. “All I remember are vague shadows, a laughing voice, and a green flash.”

Ginny’s ashen face paled further. She shook her head again and blinked back newly-formed tears. “But where have you been?” she asked quietly. Her face began to colour as she looked directly at Harry. “I’ve heard your story so many times. I’d always hoped to meet you someday.” Her flush grew as she continued on. “And then you weren’t on the Express last year and everyone said you were dead and I was so sad. I mean we are only a year apart and you are too young to die!” she blurted out.

Harry frowned in response to her outburst. “I thought we decided I’m not dead. Here, see!” He reached over and squeezed her upper arm. “I’m about as live as you can get.”

Ginny flinched in her seat and whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Her pink cheeks paled immediately.

“I’m not offended,” Harry said with a casual wave of his hand. “It’s just a bit of a shock to find people think I’m dead.” He shot an acidic glare at Sirius and Remus.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and garnered everyone’s attention. “Miss Weasley, regardless of immature shenanigans, Harry’s safety has been of paramount importance for the past decade, and that is why he remained hidden. Even today there are those who would consider it a great honour to be the one who killed The Boy Who Lived. Not all of Voldemort’s followers recanted or are in prison. Some hold out hope for a return of their Dark Lord. On the other side of the spectrum, there are unscrupulous politicians who would like nothing better than claim to be The Boy Who Lived’s patron.”

Ginny looked puzzled for a second, and then her eyes grew large. “The Boy Who Lived?” she asked in awe. “Normal people actually call you that? I thought… I thought that name was only for the papers and in books.” She went beet red this time and then looked down at her lap. “I didn’t mean to pry,” she apologised again.

“Well -” Harry began, but he was cut off by Dumbledore.

“The popular press did, in fact, bestow that particular sobriquet upon Harry. They seemed to think that title summed up all that Harry is in one neat turn of phrase.”

“I know,” Ginny said softly, still staring into her lap. “Mum and Dad still tell us how grateful they were when You-Know-Who was destroyed.” Harry noticed she glanced up and stared at him again, but she ducked her head as he looked back.

Harry sighed with exasperation. “Yeah, well, it’s all bollocks as far as I’m concerned -”

“Mr. Potter!” McGonagall said sharply.

“Sorry, Professor,” Harry replied, not the least bit apologetic. Ginny glanced up again, giving him a quick smile of understanding before ducking her head back down.

“So, Mr. Potter -” Ginny began, peeking at Harry through her shimmering curtain of red hair.

“It’s Harry, just Harry.”

She looked at him with a slight smile that reflected in her eyes. “Alright then, ‘Harry, just Harry.’ So you are alive… and I am not dreaming this. But why are you here now?” Ginny’s expression grew concerned. “It isn’t very safe right now, what with Slytherin’s monster about!”

“It was a matter of safety for the school over safety for Harry,” Dumbledore answered. “I do hope you noticed the disguises and separation from the students. These three, for a number of reasons, are my best hope to discover what Dark Magic is attacking my students. I must stop Slytherin’s monster before someone is killed.”

“So you’re here to kill the monster, then?” Ginny asked fearfully.

“Kill it?” Harry asked perplexed. “No, I don’t even know what’s doing the attacking.”

Ginny stared at Harry for a second and swallowed visibly. She looked at the desktop and touched the diary before her. Deathly pale again and still obviously frightened, she glanced at Harry and then whispered, “I think it’s me.”

McGonagall whipped around to look at her student in stunned disbelief. “What!? Why would you think that, child?”

Ginny started to tremble again and seemed to shrink even smaller as she wrapped her arms tightly about herself. She opened and closed her mouth several times before speaking in a barely audible voice. “Because… I don’t remember where I was during the attacks,” she stammered. “Because sometimes I’d… I’d wake up in a hallway, or out on the grounds near Hagrid’s hut. I’d always have rooster feathers and blood on me when I awoke like that, and I don’t know where they came from. Because I’m afraid I’m Dark. I’m afraid Tom is right, I’m…I’m tainted,” she finished, tears now tracing down her agonised face.

Dumbledore peered intently at Ginny and then shook his head, frowning.

Harry gave another exasperated snort. “I already told you twice you’re not Dark. Are you thick?”

“No,” Ginny answered in anguish. “I just don’t know what’s happening and I’m afraid it’s me who’s causing the attacks -” She stopped suddenly. “Wait!” She looked up and glared straight at Harry as she unfolded her arms. “Thick? Did you just call me THICK?!” she shouted with angry eyes. “How dare you! And just what makes you so sure I am not Dark, Mr. just Harry Perfect Boy Who Lived Hero!”

“Perfect Boy Who Lived Hero?” said Harry, affronted and confused by the girl’s instantaneous change from frightened to frightening. “What sort of tripe is this? That’s more mental than anything these two ponces ever came up with!” He pointed towards Remus and Sirius.

Ginny suddenly rose to her feet and actually growled. “Tripe!? You destroyed the worst Dark Wizard ever, while still in nappies mind you, and you call that tripe? Well I am sorry being grateful that I never saw the Dark Mark over my family’s house is so off-putting to you!”

Harry paused for a moment before replying, surprised that Ginny’s sudden emotions affected her magical signature and weakened the diary’s link to her. He mentally stored that for later reflection and snapped back to the here and now of this argument.

“Thanks for your gratitude,” Harry spat sarcastically. “I was only a baby and have no clue what happened, except my Mum and Dad were murdered in cold blood!”

“There’s no need to be rude, whether you’re disguised or not,” Ginny spat back. Her tone suddenly returned to a mixture of awe and wonder. “You have no idea, do you? No idea how… how… important you are to me. I mean to… to us.” Harry caught the significant glance Remus gave him at this statement. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing, maybe you’ve been travelling the world all this time, but your story always gave me hope when I got scared. I told Tom that when the attacks began last October. He used to tell me he understood…” she trailed off. Ginny seemed to realise with whom she was arguing and slowly sat, her head once again ducked down in embarrassment.

“Ah,” Dumbledore interjected into the sudden silence. “While I would normally enjoy a spirited discussion of Mr. Potter's worth to the Wizarding world, that must wait for another time. This diary of yours is our primary object of interest for now,” he said, returning the conversation to its original topic. “You are linked, somehow, with this diary, and there are similarities between the magical signatures of your diary and several areas of the castle that have known Dark Magic. These may, or may not, be related to the Chamber attacks, but I must investigate them. I think your assistance will be necessary.”

Seeing Ginny pale yet again, Harry gave yet another exasperated sigh. “It’s not you personally. There’s something odd as a nine-bob note about your diary.”

“Headmaster!” McGonagall snapped. “I must object! You have endangered Harry, despite my previous objections, and now you wish to involve one of my first-year students?”

Moody came over, looked at Ginny and addressed Dumbledore. “Minerva raises a good point. How will we keep all this secret, Albus? Just letting this girl know about Potter is a grave breach of security!”

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment, and then he glanced at McGonagall and grimaced slightly.

“Don’t give me that look,” McGonagall lectured. “I have warned you for years about the danger of Harry’s accidental exposure to the world. Today could have been a disaster! However, I will admit that a gradual re-introduction to society is preferable to having him just ‘Pop out,’ as it were.” Remus and Sirius both winced as she scowled at them.

“Yes, yes. I completely agree, Professor,” Dumbledore replied, sounding relieved. “I feel it is also important that we have Miss Weasley’s active assistance with this investigation. To be sure, it is easier to just confiscate the diary and be done with it. But I prefer to do what is right.”

“My assistance?” Ginny asked with an astounded tone. “You’re serious about me really helping? I thought you only wanted me about so you could look at it. You three really need my assistance?” she continued, shock obvious in her voice.

“Actually, all of us,” Moody said. “You will be part of a team effort trying to solve this whole Chamber business.”

“There is some sort of connection between that book and you,” said Harry. “You don’t seem to be under the Imperius Curse -” Ginny’s face went white and, again, her eyes grew large, “- and without knowing more I don’t think we should try and break the connection. It could be dangerous to you. Dark Magic is never something to take for granted.”

“Miss Weasley, learning about this connection is as much your task as ours,” said Remus. “If we are to break this possession safely and completely we will need you every step of the way.”

“Possession?” Her voice conveyed a mixture of horror and disgust. “My diary possesses me?”

“Unfortunately, that is a great possibility,” said Remus.

Ginny stared at the slim volume on the desk before her. She lowered her gaze to her lap and began to cry again.

Sirius knelt beside the distraught girl and gently lifted her chin so their eyes met. “Miss Weasley, I am asking you to be brave,” he told her calmly. “I know you can be because I knew your uncles, Fabian and Gideon. You look quite a bit like them, actually,” Sirius said.

Ginny shook her head. “Mum told us how brave they were. I could never be that brave.”

Sirius gave the girl a sad smile and gently patted her slight shoulder. “I know they would be very proud of you, young lady. That is exactly the same thing they would have said.”

“Really?” she asked tremulously.

“Really,” Sirius answered confidently.

“Okay,” Ginny replied in a small voice, but she kept her head up.

Sirius nodded. “That’s a good lass!”

“Before allowing you to return to the Gryffindor Tower, Miss Weasley, I ask you to enter into an Adgnitionis Celare Charm. While not as powerful as a Fidelius Charm, it is never-the-less a serious undertaking. I want you to consider this for a moment before answering me. Only a select few know of Harry Potter’s existence, and most of them are in this room tonight. That knowledge cannot leave here unguarded,” he said gravely. Ginny blanched and nodded that she understood. “If you agree to enter into this Charm it will affect your life in that you will not be able to discuss what we do, or even that Harry is alive.”

“And if I don’t agree, Professor? What happens then?”

“Then I will elect to take the easy way, Miss Weasley,” Dumbledore told her bluntly. “I shall Obliviate your memory of what has occurred since you sat at the table in the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall, Auror Moody and me. You will remember only that your diary was taken as a Dark object and you were returned to Gryffindor Tower.”

Ginny shrank in her seat at the Headmaster’s cold tone. She cautiously looked at the others in the room, staring at Harry the longest. “What if I agree and then try to tell someone about Harry? What if my parents want to know what I’m doing?”

“You will be incapable of answering them,” Dumbledore said. “Any attempt to talk about Harry to someone not under the Charm will cause your thoughts to be directed away from him. I know this will cause you problems, so before we finish you must have a suitable reply when asked what occurred this afternoon. Later we will develop a complete cover story so you can answer questions about what you are doing with a clear conscience. Professor McGonagall will be talking with your parents as part of the story, but not even she can tell them what is actually happening.”

Harry watched as Ginny sat silently for a long time. He knew she had to reach a decision without pressure for the Charm to take effect, and he was willing to allow her all the time she needed. Eventually, Ginny looked at him again, taking in his eyes and face. Her cheeks slightly flushed, she asked slowly, “If I agree to this, will I be allowed to help work out what my diary is doing to me? Will I be allowed to work with Harry?”

“Yes. Actually, that would be the point for you to enter into the Charm,” Dumbledore answered drolly.

She was quiet for another few moments, and then she gave a curt nod and said, “I’ll do it.”

Dumbledore leaned toward McGonagall and whispered something to her. She looked at Ginny and then whispered something back. Dumbledore smiled and nodded. He drew his wand and made a series of sharp movements about the room and its occupants.

He looked directly at Ginny and firmly asked, “Ginevra Molly Weasley, do you enter this Charm willingly, without coercion or doubt?”

Ginny grimaced, but she immediately answered, “Yes, Professor.”

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, do you agree to hold the knowledge of Harry James Potter, the hidden Hogwarts tower, -” she appeared confused at this, “- the true nature of our investigation into your diary, and the continued existence of Lord Voldemort -” now her eyes opened wide in shock “-to yourself, never to be discussed with anyone not now present in this room?”

“Yes, Professor,” she replied, sounding like she had carefully thought over each word before answering.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, will you hold this secret, faithfully keep this agreement, and accept the burden of this knowledge until you are honestly released from its bonds, or until beyond your final breath?”

She swallowed and then said, “Yes, Professor.”

Dumbledore slashed his wand down to the floor before her, and a warm golden glow filled the room. Harry saw Dumbledore raise an eyebrow in surprise. Harry frowned as Remus, his eyes wide, gave Harry a brief glance. When the glow faded, the Professor’s face broke into its first genuine smile in several days. “Miss Ginny Weasley,” Dumbledore said, “it is my pleasure to formally introduce you to Mr. Remus Lupin, Mr. Sirius Black, and his godson, Mr. Harry Potter.”

Remus nodded his head to her while Sirius made a gracefully formal bow. Harry was not quite sure what to do. He had already been talking to her, so a formal introduction at this point seemed silly. However, he felt he had to do something, so he looked at her and gave a nervous wave. Ginny responded to Remus and Sirius with a hesitant curtsey and turned to meet Harry’s gaze. Blushing yet again, she returned his wave, giggled shyly, and said, “It is my pleasure to meet you, gentle sirs!”

Sirius clapped Harry across the back. “Alright young man, this is a proper young lady, so you will have to mind your manners now!” Harry saw Ginny giggle at this and rolled his eyes in response. “Professor,” Sirius continued, addressing Dumbledore, “I know Miss Weasley has legitimate concerns over us violating her privacy with the diary. I told her we will respect her privacy, but is there some way we can physically safeguard it, for her peace of mind?”

Her face sombre and once again pale, Ginny nodded in agreement. “I would appreciate that,” she added quietly.

Harry stared at her and idly wondered if her complexion always fluctuated wildly between full flush and alabaster pale.

“Excellent idea!” Dumbledore said. “But I need to think on how to do that. In the mean time… Blinkin!” he called. When the house-elf appeared, Dumbledore asked her to provide an array of sandwiches and drinks. After the food and beverages materialised atop a desk, he sat and appeared lost in thought again.

There was a knock on the anteroom door that caused Ginny to jump nervously. Moody drew his wand and cautiously removed the wards from the door itself. Kingsley peered in and asked what to do with the items confiscated earlier that afternoon.

“Hand ’em here,” the retired Auror said. “I’d like to examine them a bit more before they’re disposed of.”

Moody set the contraband on a table at the opposite end of the room from Harry. Remus, Sirius, McGonagall, and Moody began to cast diagnostic spells on them and talked amongst themselves about whatever they were discovering.

Ignored for the moment, Harry glanced at Ginny and saw that she had reverted to the scared girl he had first seen in the Great Hall. Remembering his task to make her feel comfortable, Harry pointed to the platter of sandwiches. “About time they thought of this,” he muttered to Ginny. “Would you like some? I mean, were you able to eat before? I’d be a jumble of nerves if I were you.”

Ginny shook her head. “No, my stomach was in knots and I couldn’t possibly have eaten. I feel a bit better and would like to try something now, if you please.”

“Sure.” Harry reached for the sandwich tray, but his oddly-long index fingers made it difficult to pick up anything. He huffed as he yanked the gloves off his hands. Throwing them to the floor he flexed his normal-appearing hands and sighed. “That finger disguise thing was just plain mental!” Smiling, he grabbed several sandwiches from the platter and dropped them on Ginny’s desktop before he took for one himself and shoved half of it into his mouth.

Ginny looked at the sandwiches dumped haphazardly on the desk and shook her head. “Might I trouble you for a napkin and a plate?” she asked with a trace of annoyance.

“Huh?” Harry grunted, now in the middle of wolfing down his second sandwich. Seeing Ginny sitting there wearing an impatient look, he felt his own cheeks grow warm. With one big swallow he cleared his mouth, placed a napkin on one of the plates, and handed them both to her. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Although she wore a blush that probably matched his own, Harry saw Ginny tilt her head and scrutinise him. “You really haven’t talked to girls much, have you?”

“I haven’t talked to hardly anyone other than the people in this room. Well, Madam Pomfrey - she’s a Healer - and some tutors Professor Dumbledore arranged for. Oh! I forgot my physical trainers, but they’re all Muggles. I guess Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey counts as girls, at least that’s what Remus told me.”

“Is that why you asked me about making friends?” Ginny asked curiously.

Harry looked down at his feet, embarrassed for some unknown reason. “Well… yeah. I mean I can’t really do something like that. You know… make friends.” He jerked his head towards the adults at the other end of the anteroom. “They’ve always been concerned about my safety. It’s like what Professor Dumbledore explained. Maybe someday I can begin to make friends, but for now I’m not even allowed to try. At least not yet.” Harry let out a frustrated sigh. “Maybe someday I can tell you about the umm… ‘yet’ part. It’s sorta complicated, and I’m not sure I’m allowed to tell you much,” he finished lamely.

“Oh,” Ginny said, sounding disappointed. “That’s all right. I wouldn’t want to do anything to put you in danger or anything.”

Harry kept his head down and replied in a defeated, flat monotone. “You wouldn’t want to be a friend? I thought…” Harry sighed again, “It’s okay. I understand.” He wiped his hands on his robes and shoved them into his pockets. “I’m probably boring company anyway.”

“You’d let me be your friend?” Ginny asked in amazement.

“No, really, it’s okay, I don’t want to bother you,” Harry continued.

“You don’t want me as a friend?” she responded, her tone suddenly disappointed.

“No,” Harry answered, still in a monotone. His head came up sharply as he heard Ginny give a wet gasp. “No, wait! I mean yes! I would like it if you were my friend. A lot. I don’t have any friends my age. You’d be my first!” he added excitedly. He watched her look up at him and saw another series of emotions flicker in her eyes. The last and longest, which Harry did not quite understand, was an incredibly sad look. She blinked away some tears and then gave him a smile that made Harry feel as if he was witnessing a bright, beautiful, sunrise light the whole world.

“I would love to be your first friend your age,” she told him. Her smile grew, if anything, still brighter.

“Brilliant!” Harry said a bit breathlessly. Then he sucked in a breath as he noticed how her signature had changed and was again pushing back the dark threads of the diary.

“What?” Ginny asked, looking suddenly nervous.

Harry shook his head slightly. “Nothing,” he said as he began a smile to match hers. “This is just so brilliant! So what do we do now? I mean you know more about being friends than I do.”

“Oh. Well… how about some pumpkin juice to have with our sandwiches?”

Harry nodded, still smiling, and reached to hand Ginny a goblet from the food table. He sat there with her, doing nothing but eating and drinking and having the time of his life because he was eating with his friend.

Harry had forgotten all about the Headmaster and was actually surprised when Dumbledore rose from his chair and whirled his wand at a double window. The panes opened wide, letting the bitter cold of a Scottish February night overwhelm any warmth provided by the fire. Harry shared a confused look with Ginny as he shivered slightly.

The other adults looked up from their conversation. McGonagall cast a quick warming charm on herself, and then with an exasperated tone she asked, “Albus? For the love of… What are you doing?”

The Headmaster ignored her, whipping his arm over his shoulder and pointing his wand out the open window. “Accio a Perspex sheet from the Fort William DIY!”

“Nice cast, Albus,” Sirius said with amusement. “I see you’ve been practicing for the Upper Tay Spring Salmon Tournament. Dedalus swears he will beat your catch by two pounds this year.”

Dumbledore looked over his shoulder at Sirius and smirked.

Harry caught Ginny’s eye and made a circling motion about his ear with his index finger. Ginny blushed slightly once again, but she giggled at his pantomime.

“Perspex?” Remus sounded thoughtful. “That’s non-reactive to magic. What are you planning to do, Albus?”

“An experiment, Remus. Hopefully some Perspex will be here soon.”

“Non-reactive? What does that mean?” Ginny asked.

“Certain spells, curses, and focused magical energies will not affect it,” answered Remus. “You can summon it, banish it, cut it, break it, and stick it; but you cannot transfigure it, conjure it, vanish it, or repair it if broken. The Department of Mysteries has been studying it for years without working out why.” He shrugged and gave the girl a small smile.

“Muggles are resistant to magic?” Ginny said in disbelief.

“No, thankfully, or we would have been in serious trouble hundreds of years ago. But somehow they have created a whole family of plastic materials that have some interesting properties,” Remus replied.

“Sir? Do Muggles know they have made something magic doesn’t affect? I thought they weren’t supposed to know about magic at all.”

“Do the Muggles know it is non-reactive to magical energies? That’s a good question, Miss Weasley,” Remus answered. “Although all living things have a magical core, Muggles aren’t powerful enough to do any magic outside their bodies. So it’s rather unlikely that any of them have worked it out.”

“How can someone only do magic inside their body? I mean what good is that?” Ginny smiled at Harry as she made the “crazy” pantomime. Harry gave her a confused look, not understanding why she made that sign. She frowned back when he did not join her joke.

“The conception of a life through an act of love is magic at its most profound, Miss Weasley, and it is a magic that all humans can perform,” Dumbledore replied.

Harry felt embarrassed for some odd reason. He noticed that Ginny’s face, mostly hidden by her flowing hair, was also flushed. He realised she, too, was embarrassed, but he still did not know why. Dumbledore had merely paraphrased a theme found in Remus’ Theory of Magic essays, but talking about reproductive magic was different somehow with Ginny in the room.

She did not seem to have anything else to say, and Harry did not want to continue the conversation, either. Finished eating, they had nothing else to do but watch each other closely without appearing to watch each other closely.

Harry trembled slightly from a blast of freezing wind and hoped the Perspex would appear quickly. Ginny, Harry noticed, was now shivering continuously. He, Sirius, and Remus were still wearing their full travelling cloaks, and the others had cast warming charms to stay comfortable. Ginny, however, did not seem to know the warming charm and was wearing only her school robes. The idea to lend Ginny his cloak came out of nowhere, but pleased him immensely. He removed his cloak and draped it about the shivering girl.

Ginny started as he placed it about her tiny shoulders, and she looked at him in surprise. “What about you?” Harry smiled and cast a warming charm on both of them. She gave him a once over before saying, “That’s a third-year charm! And a non-verbal spell is N.E.W.T. level magic! But… thank you,” she muttered self-consciously.

Harry shrugged. “What are friends for?” he said cheerfully. He knew why Wizards thought him a hero, and he understood the burden of that importance. Helping the world was his destiny. But Ginny was someone new, someone here and now, and he had helped her on his own. It was a new and powerful feeling, and Harry liked knowing he had done something for her and her alone. “I just wish I knew how much longer we have to stand here,” he added.

Moody nodded in agreement with that statement. “Albus, I am beginning to suspect you left your brains in the Pensieve again! If that piece of whatever hasn’t arrived by now, it never will. Miss Weasley is starting to look as if she’s been dipped in woad, even with a cloak and a Warming Charm. And if Harry catches another cold due to one of your schemes – need I remind you of Poppy’s last warning? After the past day or so, I’m sure Minerva would enjoy watching her carry out that threat!”

Dumbledore grimaced and redrew his wand, but then a plate of clear plastic sailed out of the darkness through the open window and settled on the floor of the room. Dumbledore immediately shut the window, and the fire began to ease the bite from the room’s chill. The seven Wizards and Witches stood silently, looking at the four-foot square by quarter-inch thick sheet of clear material at their feet.

Smiling like Christmas had come again, Dumbledore said, “We shall soon see if my experiment is successful.” He took his wand and began tracing lines in the air. When he finished, a three-dimensional diagram of a shallow box floated before him. “Oh dear,” he sighed in resignation. “I seem to have forgotten the hardware.”

Dumbledore started to open the window again, but McGonagall stopped him. “Must you to do that again?” she asked in exasperation. “What is it you need?”

“Hinges,” he sighed. “Hinges for the cover, and a hasp and flap for the front. I think a conjured lock would suffice, but the other hardware must be non-magical material for the sticking charm to work on the Perspex.”

McGonagall tutted. “Tavish,” she called out, and a house-elf appeared next to her. “The Headmaster is in need of some hardware for a box he is making. Are there non-conjured spare hinges and hasps anywhere in this castle?”

The house-elf glanced in askance at Dumbledore. “What size, Mistress?” he asked. His inflection implied that he thought the Headmaster making anything was a bad idea.

“The Headmaster has a diagram of the box he wishes to construct,” McGonagall replied in a tone that matched the elf’s. She pointed at the diagram floating in the air. “That is the actual size of the box.”

The house-elf examined the diagram from all sides and below. “Is Tavish allowed to make a copy to help the search?”

“Of course. That is very wise of you,” McGonagall responded approvingly.

The house-elf appeared proud of, and slightly embarrassed by, the praise from his mistress. He waved his arms in a circle around the diagram, and a transparent sphere the colour of parchment surrounded it. He pulled the sphere away from the diagram, and a perfect copy of Dumbledore’s box diagram remained inside. “Tavish will be back,” he said solemnly and disappeared with the sphere.

"Ah, well done, Minerva,” Dumbledore said. “I should have thought of that.” McGonagall tutted again. “Now then, let us see what we can do here.” He flicked his wand, and the three-dimensional diagram broke down into a flat set of lines. “This is my pattern to cut the Perspex.”

“Professor,” Ginny interrupted cautiously, “I thought you said magic wouldn’t work on this.”

Peering at the Muggle material, Dumbledore absent-mindedly repeated what Remus had said earlier. “It is non-reactive to certain types of magic, basically the Change, Create, and most Control types. It does, however, react normally to Bond, Break, some Control, and Destroy type spells. Quite interesting, really.” Looking at the grid lines faintly glowing above the Perspex sheet, Dumbledore smiled. “Marvellous! There will be material left over. I have always wanted some for my own personal study.” He placed the tip of his wand upon the sheet and ran it across the surface, cutting neat rectangles. A casual wave of his wand caused all but one piece to neatly form an open topped box with transparent sides.

“I have attached them with a derivative of the permanent sticking charm. The box is quite solid. When Tavish returns I will attach the hinges to the lid and complete the box.” Dumbledore took the box, with its top, and set it on the desk next to Ginny’s dairy.

She looked through the sides and ran her fingers along the box’s perfectly joined seams. “Thank you, sir,” she whispered in an awed tone.

A short time later, Tavish reappeared holding a single long hinge and a hasp and flap set. McGonagall smiled at the house-elf before he disappeared. Humming to himself, Dumbledore attached the hardware to the box. He opened and shut the lid several times before he stepped back, apparently quite pleased with himself.

“Two more items are necessary before we are finished.” Dumbledore vanished the remains of the meal and dishes from the desk near Ginny. He appeared to concentrate deeply as he closed his eyes tightly in concentration and mumbled unintelligibly. Opening his eyes, he made a complex series of movements with his wand and tapped its tip to the desk. A rather substantial scarlet coloured padlock appeared. He then traced a circle around the lock and tapped one side of the circle. A gold key attached to a gold chain appeared around the lock.

"Miss Weasley, this lock and key are yours. I request that you use them to ensure that no one has access to your diary without your explicit permission. Please test the lock and key. I am rather proud of their construct but want to make sure they actually work.” He gave the girl a wry grin.

Ginny went to the other desk, held the lock, and gasped in surprise. Harry looked to see what caused that reaction. Above the lock’s keyhole a set of initials, “G M W,” was engraved in an elegant script of inlaid gold. She reverently ran a finger over the initials and gazed at the key with its chain. “It’s beautiful, Professor, but it’s too much. I can’t possibly accept this!” she exclaimed with a troubled voice.

“You have agreed to trust us to hold your most private thoughts inviolate. There isn’t enough gold in Gringotts to repay that type of faith, Miss Weasley,” Dumbledore replied solemnly. “Now then, would you please humour an old man and see if the lock set actually works?” he finished with a slight smile.

Ginny picked up the key, placed it in the hole, and turned it. With a solid click, the lock popped open.

Dumbledore took the chain and key from her. “This lock cannot be opened by any magical or non-magical means except this key.” He moved to place the chain over her head, but he paused. He handed it to Harry, instead, and said, “If you would do the honours…”

Harry stood before Ginny, almost touching her. He reached over her head and placed the chain about her neck. Ginny stared uncertainly at his chest, and he noticed her shudder slightly, but she radiated comforting warmth as he lifted her hair from beneath the cloak and over the chain. Surprised by the softness and weight of her hair, Harry thought she must have strong neck muscles to keep her head level. She also smelled… good was the best description he could think of. Sort of like a field of spring flowers. He pondered, briefly, whether to ask Sirius about that later. Beet red, Ginny closed her eyes and sighed softly as Harry let her hair fall over the back of the cloak.

“Ginny,” Harry said calmly, and her eyes snapped open. “Would you put the diary… um… Tom … into the box and close the lock?” Hearing Remus quietly clear this throat, Harry looked over and saw him mouth a word. Embarrassed yet again, Harry added “Please” to his request. Remus gave Harry a slight smile and a nod.

Harry watched as Ginny reached for the book, her right hand trembling as she picked it up. Holding it to her chest, she looked at Harry and the adults in the room. There was a look of panic in her eyes, and Harry looked closely for any change in the threads between the book and the girl. He saw none as she reverently placed the diary into the box and shut the lid. She swallowed nervously and closed the lock. Her fingers worried at the key on the chain around her neck as she stared at her diary in the transparent box. A look of resolve replaced her panic, and she dropped the key down the front of her robes. Ginny let out a big breath, and Harry was surprised to realise he had done the same.

“Excellent!” Dumbledore answered, very upbeat. “You have our word that your privacy will be respected,” he repeated and then looked at Remus, Sirius, and Harry, who all nodded in agreement.

With that, Dumbledore motioned to Remus, who began to speak in a clinical tone. “I think we must accomplish three things. First, discover what this diary is, what it does, and how it does it. Second,” he looked at Ginny, “we need to strengthen your magical resistance to the diary’s power over you, but I hesitate to begin this work until we know more about this diary and about you. Finally, we break the connection between you and the book. This isn’t something we can do tonight, Albus. This will take time. How can we work with her without raising any suspicion about our activities?”

Dumbledore regarded Remus with pursed lips. “How often would you need Miss Weasley to aid in the investigation of the diary and work to sever the possessive bind?” Dumbledore asked.

“At a minimum, I’m thinking two evening sessions and a whole day, say a Saturday, each week, would give me sufficient time to prepare her,” Remus replied.

“For how long?”

“Until we are successful,” Remus answered with a slight shrug. “I have no idea what it will take. I hope to give you a better answer in several weeks’ time.”

Ginny glanced at Professor McGonagall. “What about my school work?” the girl asked.

“Bring it!” Sirius cheerfully replied. “You can work on that, too, as well as our little problem.” Remus gave Sirius a warning glance with his use of that term.

“Are you sure she can have some time for normal studies?” Dumbledore asked Remus. At Remus’ nod he then looked at McGonagall. “Could Miss Weasley use additional tutor time?”

“I dare say she could, Headmaster,” McGonagall responded. “Since early in the fall term, Miss Weasley has not been working at the level I believe represents her true potential.” Ginny blushed again at this criticism from her Head of House.

“Excellent! Then, Miss Weasley, you will be serving detention -”

“Detention!?” she interrupted with a yelp. “I… I thought you said I wasn’t in trouble.”

Dumbledore smiled at her. “We will need some sort of explanation as to why you are away from your friends and housemates. You shall be serving detention with me on Tuesday and Thursday evenings and all day Saturday. That is what you asked for, correct, Remus? We will puzzle out what you do to earn this detention later. Today has already been long enough for you, I imagine. Your brothers expressed concern for your well being several times, and I believe they are most anxious to have you back safe and sound. Alastor? I would appreciate it if Kingsley himself escorted Miss Weasley back to Gryffindor tower.”

Moody nodded. “I’ll let him know right now,” he said. The old Auror moved towards the door and once again began to remove the privacy charms.

“I can take the diary and my bag, then? And my wand?”

Dumbledore produced her wand from his robe sleeve. “You are free to take your wand and your bag. The diary shall remain in my custody, as we discussed.”

“Oh,” she said, “right.” Ginny frowned at the book with its transparent case, sighed, and then took her wand from Dumbledore.

“Um…” Harry began uncertainly, “before you go, could I um… could I have my cloak back?”

Ginny looked at the cloak, still draped about her shoulders, and blushed deeply. She kept her eyes downcast as she slipped it off. “Sorry,” she said meekly, handing the cloak back to Harry. “It’s a nice cloak; it’s very warm and comfortable. Thank you.”

“It was um… my um… pleasure… actually. Not a bother at all,” Harry stammered, slightly pink himself, as he folded the cloak over his arm. “I guess I will see you soon?” He glanced at Dumbledore to get some sort of indication as to when they might meet again.

“I will arrange for us to meet in a couple of days, Miss Weasley. I will have some ideas for the cause of your detention by then. In the meantime I suggest you plant some indications that you seek retribution for the confiscation of your diary. If pressed about your activities this afternoon, you might claim you were rather extensively examined for traces of Peruvian Darkness Powder or possible Befuddlement.”

Ginny blinked and looked confused. “Professor, those are things the Twins have. They would never let me near them!” Dumbledore grinned at her, his eyes twinkling brightly. Ginny blinked again, and a look of comprehension grew in her warm brown eyes. She began to giggle. “Professor, that is a mean prank,” Ginny said admonishingly. “I will be happy to play it on them!”

“Until later, then…” said Dumbledore, smiling.

“Bye, Harry,” Ginny said, now sounding reluctant to leave.

“See you later,” Harry responded.

“Professor!” Ginny asked suddenly. “How am I to know this wasn’t some dream?”

Dumbledore smiled kindly again. “The key, Miss Weasley. It tells you three things. Firstly, that your privacy remains under your control. Secondly, that you are key to our investigation of this diary. And thirdly, that all of this is real, and a part of this afternoon lies close to your heart.” Harry frowned at this last part, but Dumbledore almost always knew what he was doing.

Ginny touched her robes over her chest. She glanced quickly at Harry and then looked at Dumbledore as she nodded her head. “Goodbye,” she said wistfully. “I’ll see you soon!”

Sirius opened the door and motioned the girl toward the waiting Kingsley. As soon as the door shut, Dumbledore recast the privacy charms, and the six people in the room turned to look at the diary in its case.

“Should I open it now to see what’s in there?” Harry asked.

“Mr. Potter!” Minerva snapped for the second time that afternoon.

“Harry,” Albus replied slowly, “that lock is one of my finer bits of magic, if I say so myself. I doubt even I could easily overcome the guarding spell to open it. You could cut through the side of the case, but Miss Weasley would clearly know we had broken our promise to her.”

“We are trying to break her of possession by that diary, not of her trust in us,” Remus added.

“Oh,” Harry replied, abashed. “But I thought we could… Well, yeah… err… you’re right… I just, umm… well, sorry,” he finished meekly.

“I think,” said Albus, breaking the suddenly awkward silence, “we should retire to the Marauder Tower to discuss today’s events further. Alastor, when Kingsley returns, have him dismiss those Aurors not needed for guard duty and set the watch for the others.”

After Alastor left the room, Albus looked pointedly at Harry. “You’re certain the glow we saw after her vow was a Feynman Radiance?”

Harry and Remus shared a quick glance. “Yes, Professor, we are absolutely sure,” Harry replied.

Minerva’s eyes began to widen in surprise, and Sirius let loose a low whistle.

“Should… should…” Minerva looked uncharacteristically at a loss for words. “Should we tell her?”

Harry shrugged while Remus and Albus shook their heads.

“She wouldn’t understand, and it might frighten her. She has enough to worry about,” Dumbledore said thoughtfully. “Let us see how she progresses with her private tutelage. I did not expect great things from her, but if her force of will is that strong, we may be able to use her to our advantage. Shall we remove this to your tower?”

Remus nodded and picked up the locked case as Dumbledore began removing all the privacy Charms about the room.

“What about your spare Perspex pieces, sir?” Harry asked.

“Ah, yes!” Dumbledore said in surprise. “I quite forgot about those. Let me take them to my office, and then we will continue this evening’s discussions.”

Harry paced and watched Sirius, Remus, and Professor McGonagall engage in small talk as he waited for Dumbledore to join them in the tower. He stopped occasionally to stare silently at a table in the centre of the lounge, upon which the book sat in its case. The entry door opened, and Dumbledore huffed in, looking like he had run all the way from his office.

“We were waiting for you to join us,” Remus told the Headmaster.

“Alastor sent word that he returned home for the evening. I told him you would let him know if we discussed anything important,” Sirius said.

“Thank you,” Dumbledore replied with a deep breath. “I apologise for the delay; I had to try just one experiment on the Perspex.” Dumbledore flashed a sheepish smile and then became serious again. “Minerva and I cannot stay long ourselves. We still have the house common rooms to tour.”

Harry led Dumbledore over to a chair and, with a slight sigh of exhaustion, joined the adults taking a seat. Remus looked over to Harry with a warm smile. “I think you did well today, Harry. Sirius and I are quite proud of you.”

Albus looked at Remus and gave a slight nod to Harry. “As am I, young man.”

“I’m just glad to be out of that cloak and glove costume. How...?” Harry started to say and then thought the better of it and finished with a shrug.

“So, what do we have here?” Albus asked, looking at the diary in its case on the table. “Miss Weasley seems worried that this diary controls her and makes her Dark. She mentioned what sound like blackouts during the attacks. I looked to see if she had any memories from those times. I found none, as I expected, but I also discovered blackouts that occurred when there were no attacks.”

McGonagall drew a sharp breath and gave Dumbledore a fierce glance.

Apparently Dumbledore noticed her look, too. “Peace, Minerva,” he warned, holding up his right hand. “You know I will do whatever I deem necessary, regardless of ethics, to safeguard this school. What I discovered is quite disconcerting. The girl’s memory blackouts are not due to emotional repression. I saw absolutely nothing in her memories of those periods. She literally has dark holes in her mind. It is possible these blackouts are related to the attacks by whatever is stalking my school; how they might be related is a mystery to me. However, in lieu of anything else found today, I must accept that she’s the most likely suspect for our troubles. Harry,” he said abruptly, “how are these threads you mentioned in the Great Hall?”

Harry gave another small shrug. “They’re still there, no change, Professor. I wonder if the diary is even aware of its surroundings without anyone touching it or writing in it.”

“What makes you think that?” Sirius asked curiously.

Harry paused and stared at the book. “Well, despite the magic used in the anteroom it didn’t seem to react. Its signature didn’t change. Although… It seemed to sense you, Professor, when you got really close to it. When Ginny opened it, it concentrated on her. I don’t think it cared about anything else,” Harry shrugged. “I guess… I guess if that book is not aware of its surroundings that will make it easier to study. We can move it, you know, take it wherever in that case and it won’t know what is happening. That is good for us, isn’t it?” Harry continued to intensely scrutinise the book and its case.

“Professor,” Harry asked curiously, “you said there are diaries that write back to people?”

Albus gave Harry a slight smile. “Corresponding Diaries, yes. They seem quite popular with young girls. A number of them claim to be Helga Hufflepuff - those are rather popular in Hufflepuff House I am sure - and quite a few claim to be the Lady Guinevere.”

“Are there any that are boys?”

“Yes. They are not as popular because boys do not tend to keep diaries. Merlin makes up the majority of those. Oddly enough the next most popular for boys is Nicolas Flamel.” Albus’ smile grew wistful. “He was always amused by those. He kept a series of them for well over two centuries; said he enjoyed conversing with someone who completely understood him.”

“Can we can get a girl and boy diary? I don’t know whether this one’s signature is off or not. I’d like something to compare it with,” Harry said.

Remus replied, “Sirius, get one of each type tomorrow,” and Sirius nodded quickly.

Harry frowned again. “Is it normal for a girl to have a boy diary?”

“No, not usually. Ginny probably got it second-hand from one of her brothers,” Sirius said.

“Did any of her brothers act odd? How long do you suppose the diary has been in the family? I mean if these are supposed to be private, what’s the point of using someone else’s diary?” Harry noticed that the adults in the room suddenly looked uncomfortable.

Sirius sighed. “This past century has not been kind to the Weasley family, Harry. They were on the wrong side of a dreadful Muggle economic depression sixty years ago and lost all their Muggle holdings. Their standing with the Ministry and Order during the Voldemort Uprising branded them as blood-traitors and pariahs just when they finally began to recover financially. Many old pure-blood families also look down on them because of their large family. Aunt Druella caused a bit of a stir by having three daughters, so having seven children is… well, it’s considered scandalous. I suppose with five children at Hogwarts at one time, what money they do have is rather tight. They don’t have much in the way of luxuries beyond those handed down by their ancestors. But they are good people, Harry, a proud group.”

“And Miss Weasley is the first female Weasley in many generations,” Albus added.

“Really?” Harry asked, intrigued. “Is that normal?”

“For the Weasley family? Yes,” Albus answered. “I believe the last Weasley female was born in the mid-1800s. Records have noted the women all tended to wield their magic to the maximum extent. You will find the adjective ‘powerful’ used quite often in describing them. I was not joking when I told you Miss Weasley could not be Dark. Her Feynman Radiance is confirmation of that.”

Sirius chuckled. “Merging Weasley pride with a Prewett temper makes for a volatile mix.” He leaned toward Harry, grinned, and told him, “God help you if you ever brass her off, because the rest of us will be running for the hills!”

Remus cleared his throat. “Genealogy lessons for Harry are all well and good, but it gets us no closer to figuring out what that thing is,” he made a hand wave toward the table with the diary, “and how to break its possession of Miss Weasley.”

“Right,” said Albus. “In lieu of comparing it with another Corresponding Diary, what do you see?” he asked in an interested tone. “What does its signature look like? I do envy you your ability to see the magic.”

Sirius sighed softly. “We were worried for a while that even with glasses he couldn’t see properly, until he began to talk about the colours. It was another two weeks before we realised he wasn’t pranking us.”

Harry grinned self-consciously; this was a discussion that had been repeated many times over the past eight years. He looked at Dumbledore and said, “There’s just a very faint glow around things. I don’t really notice it from far away, but the closer I get the easier it is to see. And the stronger the signature, the easier it is to see.”

Remus added, “I was not sure if the colours were unique to Harry’s vision or not, but the colours in the training orbs matched Harry’s descriptions, so we went from there with that part of the Theory.”

Dumbledore said wistfully, “I wish I could see how the castle glows…”

“It’s kinda pretty,” replied Harry. “There’s a soft light that shines from everywhere. That’s what makes it so easy to detect Dark Magic,” he added with a shudder. “The colours are flat, no shine at all. It’s like… it’s like all the fun’s been drained away. It’s rather sickening if you ask me.”

The wistful look faded from Dumbledore’s face as he sighed. “You told us about ‘threads’ that link the diary to the girl -”

“Ginny,” Harry corrected absently.

“Ah. Thank you, Harry.” Dumbledore gave an enigmatic smile. “What do these specific threads look like?”

Harry turned and peered closely at the diary in its case. Slowly he followed the threads as they disappeared through the wall of the tower. “They’re the same as when she was at a different table in the Great Hall. It’s a mixture of blue and green. Sort of a 50/50 mix. But it’s so flat and dead looking. So… um… yeah… it’s the same as in the Hall and in the anteroom.” Harry shrugged, not sure what else to say.

“What caused you to call out so dramatically when I reached for the diary?” Dumbledore asked.

“Oh! When Ginny pulled the dairy from her pocket, the signature about her changed. The diary’s signature sort of concentrated about it, and the threads appeared. As you reached for it, it was like the thing sensed you – maybe, I don’t know, it sorta already knew you? Is that possible? Anyway, the signature swirled and expanded. The threads to her remained the same green/blue mixture, but a – a cloud I suppose – grew out toward you, swirling blue and orange. I didn’t know what it would do but… Well,” Harry shrugged again, “I thought it was going to attack you.”

Remus sighed. “There are magical ties to her head and chest.” It was a statement, not a question. He pursed his lips, looked at Dumbledore, and angrily spat, “Heart and Mind. Damn! I haven’t a clue what this is, but a possession like this will be very hard to sever. We must proceed very carefully. Albus, I imagine I will be spending a considerable amount of time researching in your private library.”

“I will send you anything I have on weakening a possessive spell,” Dumbledore replied.

Harry leaned forward in his chair. “Weaken it?” he asked with interest.

“That would be a first step, Harry. Breaking a spell like this all at once would cause mental damage,” Remus replied. “For that book to maintain any sort of connection at this distance means the connection is powerful and the damage would be severe. The fact that a thread leads to her heart, too, makes it all the worse.”

“Well…” Harry said uncertainly, “she did weaken the threads on her own several times in the anteroom.”

“When?” Dumbledore asked sharply.

“The first time I noticed was when she and I were arguing. When she got really mad and stood up to yell at me, both threads were pushed away from her for a second or two. A second time was when we… er… agreed to be friends, and again when I lent her my cloak. The thread to her chest was pushed back a little bit,” he finished, feeling his face grow warm.

Remus and Sirius shared a look Harry did not understand. Dumbledore stared, unfocused, at the far tower wall. He began to frown and steepled his fingers. His gaze focused on Harry, and his eyes began to twinkle. “And you are positive there are two separate threads?”

“Yeah. Within a few feet of Ginny there are two threads, one to her head and another to her heart… chest. I can’t really tell if there are two from this end, though.”

“Were there any other changes with them from the time the girl -”

“Ginny,” Harry again corrected absently.

“- Ginny,” Dumbledore responded with another slight smile. “Did you notice any difference with the threads from the time Ginny walked into the Great Hall until the time she left the anteroom for Gryffindor Tower?”

Harry now took an unfocused stare as he thought over everything that had happened earlier. Shaking his head he told Dumbledore, “I don’t think there was anything else besides the moments of weakening. I’ll look at my memories in the Pensieve to make sure and let you know if I do see anything else.”

“Not tonight,” Remus told Harry. “You have missed a day’s classes and had a very busy time to boot. I am going to cancel tonight’s Astronomy laboratory, but I want you to give me a list of your activities today that relate to your subjects and then call it a night. You have Arithmancy and your Transfiguration practical class tomorrow morning, and the afternoon is a full schedule for you, too. Tomorrow, after dinner, we will review our memories in the Pensieve and let the Headmaster know if we missed anything today.”

“I believe that is our cue to leave,” Dumbledore said, looking at his Deputy. “It is just as well. Minerva and I need to visit the house common rooms before we retire. We bid you gentlemen a good evening.” As the professors rose and made their goodnights, Remus rose to see them to the tower door.

“I’ll get Harry upstairs and start on that list of related experiences, Remus,” Sirius told the other man. He shooed Harry up the stairs and paused, waiting for Remus to reappear. When Remus returned to the lounge, Sirius called for Harry to come back down.

“I want you to give me a list of your activities today that relate to your subjects,” Sirius said in a nasal monotone. “Moony, you are such a swot. Harry, you don’t have to write any essays or the like on what you discovered today.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Harry said, relieved. “There was a ton of things we found.”

Remus sighed. “Padfoot, if you want to sound like an ass, let me help you.” Sirius started a retort, but Remus whipped his wand and all that came out was a donkey’s bray. Frowning, Sirius flicked his wand at Remus, and a pair of donkey ears sprouted from the side of his head. Harry began to laugh out loud.

“Laugh it up, Clown-Boy,” said Remus. Sirius flicked his wand and gave Harry pink curly hair, a red bulb nose, and huge clown feet.

“Hey!” Harry shouted in surprise. He swished his wand, and Sirius sprouted a donkey tail while Remus’ ears stood straight out from his head. Laughing and braying, the three of them cast a flurry of transfiguration and switching spells at each other until Harry called out, “Finite.” He glanced quickly about the room and saw that everyone was back to normal.

The three boys laughed a bit longer, but then Harry grew pensive. “There were an awful lot of Dark or dodgy things we found. That Potions Master was just plain creepy.” Harry paused a moment to ponder the disgusted look that passed between Remus and Sirius. “Are you sure I am supposed to be safe here? I know what you’ve told me, and it was bad enough with Voldemort sticking out of that guy’s head last year. My scar actually hurt several times. At least it whatever is attacking the students hasn’t caused it to hurt.”

Sirius shook his head. “The Slytherin common room and dormitories looked like a Hogwarts branch of Borgin and Burkes, only with a better quality and variety of items.”

“How would you know what the inside of Borgin and Burkes looks like? Are you holding out on us or something?” Harry asked.

Sirius snorted. “Oh, no. Mum took me and Regulus on little trips there every month until we were in school. Granted that was twenty years ago now, but I doubt the clientele or the merchandise have changed much.”

“Oh,” Harry replied.

“Remus,” Sirius continued with a brighter tone of voice, “what is that pillock Filch doing banning spell-checking quills? We could have saved a lot of ink ourselves if we hadn’t needed to list every one we found in the Ravenclaw rooms.” Arching his eyebrows, Sirius continued, “Ravenclaws are supposed to be the smart ones. Why would they need to check their spelling?”

“You always considered yourself a top student -” Remus said.

“Because I was,” Sirius interrupted.

“- and yet you sorely needed one of those quills. Still do if you ask me. How about the amount of things from Zonko’s in the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor rooms? It’s amazing what they have today! Can you imagine the things we could have pulled off it we had stuff like that? And now we know what happened to the Marauder’s Map! I wonder how those Weasley twins got their hands on it.”

Sirius chuckled. “The last I knew, Filch had grabbed it from,” his mirth died and he spat, “Peter. Not that we needed it for N.E.W.T.s or those last two weeks.” Sirius smiled again and sighed. A look of alarm flashed in his eyes, and he turned to Harry with a frown. “Just how did you know that Hufflepuff girl’s potion was an addictive love potion? And how did you know that stuff with the Weasley boy was Peruvian Darkness Powder? I haven’t even heard of Peruvian Darkness Power!”

“I cheated,” Harry said nonchalantly.

“What!?” Sirius exclaimed.

“I looked at the papers on their desks as we inspected the dorm rooms and saw sales receipts. I know what some narcotic potions look like, and I know what some love potions look like, so I put the two together for the Hufflepuff room. For those Gryffindor twins, there was only one signature that was new to me, and Peruvian Darkness Powder was the only ingredient name I didn’t recognize on the receipts.” Harry shrugged. “They were educated guesses.”

“Lily would have been so proud,” Remus said. “She was always very good with deductive reasoning like that.”

Harry looked at him, blushed, and looked down. “Thanks,” he muttered.

“However, young man,” Remus continued sternly, “how did you know that Slytherin girl had a vial of Veela essence in her bag?”

“Well… er… The same way I recognised the Centaur blood. I learned about it while studying magical creatures… right, Sirius?” he said hopefully.

Remus scrutinised Harry, who tried his best to appear completely innocent. Sirius was fighting a huge grin. “Good answer, Harry,” Sirius said and patted the boy on the knee.

“Hmm… Okay,” Remus said. “I was just wondering if Sirius needs to give you ‘The Talk.’”

“What?” Harry asked, confused.

“What?!” Sirius asked, in panic.

“Padfoot old chap, we have to realise Harry now has a girlfriend.”

“I do?” Harry asked, still confused. “Oh, well… No, I don’t! Ginny is a friend who is a girl. There is a difference you know,” he insisted.

“So you think there is something different about this girl?” Sirius egged.

“Ginny,” Harry automatically corrected. “She has her trouble with this diary thing, and she has a very strong force of will. That isn’t something you see every day, is it? I do… Well, I guess now is a good time for a couple of questions, yeah?” The two men looked at him and nodded. Sirius giving him an encouraging smile. Harry paused then continued haltingly. “When I put the chain about her neck, she sorta smelled… different.”

“Different? How?” Sirius asked with mild interest.

“Well… It was sort of like… I dunno…nice. She smelled a bit like flowers.”

“Ah,” Sirius said sagely. “You will, one day, find out that girls just like to smell nice. It is a… er… girl thing.”

“Well answered, Padfoot,” Remus grinned in an aside.

“The cowl of my cloak has the same smell, even after she gave it back to me. Is that some kind of charm?”

Sirius smiled at Harry. “Yeah, actually, it is a type of charm, but not necessarily a magical one.”

“Oh! She was rather warm when I was close to her, but she told me she didn’t know the warming spell. She told me it was a third year charm. Why would you wait that long to teach something to make you comfortable? Anyway, I wonder if it was a bit of accidental magic. But I didn’t see any spell signature. Did I miss something? Can you be old enough to come to Hogwarts and still do accidental magic?” Harry watched Sirius give him a close glance. He gave his godfather a confused shrug.

“No, Harry,” Sirius said after a moment. “That wasn’t accidental magic. It is similar to the charm of smelling good. Moony, you don’t have an answer for that type of magic in your Theory, do you?”

Remus gave an amused snort. “Padfoot, if I could explain that sort of ‘magic’ I would have more money than you and Harry put together. Not to mention always winning Witch Weekly’s ‘Most Eligible Wizard’ without even trying.”

Sirius looked at his friend and burst out laughing. “I dare say you would!”

“So,” Harry said slowly, “there is a sort of magic girls can use that makes them feel warm and smell good? Is that like what Veelas do?”

Sirius and Remus both laughed again. “For the right Wizard Harry, it is exactly like what Veelas do. There is also a third piece to that magic,” Sirius explained.

“What else?” Harry asked with a frown.

“Do you think Ginny is pretty?” Sirius asked.

Harry just looked at him, nonplussed.

“Sirius, now is not the time to start to teach him about that,” Remus admonished his friend.

“James wasn’t much older…” Sirius mused.

“About what?” asked Harry, who felt his face begin to warm again for some unknown reason.

“See!” Remus replied.

Sirius wore a disappointed grimace and mumbled, “Okay…”

“But you do need to get ready for bed, young man,” said Remus, changing the topic. “Sirius and I need to think about that thing,” he waved towards the table with the diary, “some more.”

“And Harry?” said Sirius. “You did very well today. Remus and I are extremely proud of you for finding the objects and handling the Weasley girl.”

“Ginny,” Harry corrected absently.

Sirius smiled. “Right.” He mussed Harry’s hair and said, “Good night.”

*******

An hour later Remus looked up from a new essay he was editing. Sirius rose from an armchair and headed upstairs to check on Harry. Returning to the lounge, Sirius told him that Harry was fast asleep, but then he cast a silencing charm.

“So, Moony,” Sirius said with an overly casual tone, “what do you think of the Ministry’s latest addition to the Auror Corps?”

“I didn’t know there were any new Aurors here today,” Remus replied carefully.

“Ahem, yes, well… Scrimgeour let his final year trainees come for some field experience. That and he didn’t want all his experienced personnel here for what he thought a wild goose chase.”

“And your point?” said Remus, his tone still wary.

Sirius began to smile. “Nymphadora, Remus. I saw you give her the once over about a dozen times.”

Remus felt his cheeks heat up. He did not believe he had been that obvious. Sirius seemed to be taking the mickey, but Black family males were notoriously protective of their female family members.

“I hardly think an attempt at match-making is appropriate,” Remus sniffed. “Sirius, she is thirteen years younger than me.” Remus wondered how this argument would sit.

Sirius casually waved his hand. “What does that have to do with anything? Honestly, Remus, you’re far too dour even on your best days. Nymphadora is funny and can light up a room. I think she would be good for you.”

“I’m sure the rest of your family would be thrilled if she had a werewolf as a suitor,” Remus said sourly.

Sirius barked an ironic laugh. “The ‘rest of my family,’ as it were, are of no importance to us. You’re taking that new Wolfsbane Potion Belby came up with, right? I mean I can tell the difference in your transformations, and you’re not the least bit blood-thirsty anymore!”

Remus winced at Sirius’ cavalier description of his werewolf behaviour. “You know I don’t like to talk about that.”

“Yes, I know. We knew, and it never made one bit of difference. Knowing Nymphadora, your furry little problem won’t make a difference to her, either.”

“Huh,” Remus grunted. Changing the subject, he continued, “I was surprised and pleased with how Harry carried out his assignments today. There was certainly more Dark Magic here than I ever expected, and we hadn’t planned for him to mingle with anyone his age.”

“I hope this Weasley thing works out. It bothers me that Harry doesn’t have anyone his age to play with.”

“This girl is not a playmate, Sirius. We need to know everything she knows about that diary. And maybe I can try some of my magical education curriculum on her and see how she progresses…” Remus shrugged and went back to his essay.

Sirius was quiet for a few minutes and then let out a heavy sigh as he rose from his seat. Glancing up to see what caused the sigh, Remus saw Sirius placing a set of proximity alarm charms about the diary and table.

Softly, Remus said, “Good idea, old friend. That thing scares me, too.”

Sirius looked at Remus and, with a worried voice, asked, “Just what the effing hell is that thing?”

Remus could only look back and frown in reply.

*******

Ginny Weasley petulantly stomped down to the Great Hall for Saturday lunch. Taking Professor Dumbledore’s direction to heart, she had returned from her questioning in the Great Hall skittish and snapping at anyone who crossed her path. She also managed to be ever so disrespectful to Professor McGonagall. After Percy delivered what seemed like his one hundredth warning about respect for professors, he experienced his first Bat Bogey Hex. Taking pity on her pedantic brother, she lifted the spell after about half a minute. Unfortunately for Percy, he immediately lectured her on duelling and attacking a prefect, and then he took five points from Gryffindor. Ginny retorted, “Make it ten!” and re-hexed him. She decided this time to storm off and let the spell fade on its own, knowing that might take up to an hour when she was really angry. By Saturday morning even Fred and George carefully gauged Ginny’s mood before coming within ten feet of her.

In reality the past two days had been pure torture for Ginny. She had grown up in a large and rambunctious family and never had a reason to feel lonely or abandoned. Then Ron left for Hogwarts the previous year, and she found herself alone for the first time in her life. Her coming to school had done nothing to ease her sense of isolation. Her brothers all had their own sets of friends and almost never included her in anything anymore. On the rare occasion when they had asked her to join them, she felt like a little tag-along. It was just so embarrassing. Also, Tom needed so much time that Ginny made few of her own friends at school. She was not close to her roommates, two of whom looked down on her second hand robes and whispered about her “blood-traitor” status.

Now even Tom was gone, and Ginny ached to have him back. If it were not for the key and chain about her neck, she thought she would have been in the Mental Ward at St. Mungo’s. That first night back in the common room she had fingered the key through her robes so much that Hermione asked if she was scratching some rash. Ginny’s cheeks warmed as she remembered her full-bloom flush when Hermione then asked if she was uncomfortable ‘there’ because she was - you know - ‘changing’. She had taken to wearing the key and chain beneath her camisole. It kept the key from the prying eyes of her roommates, who would notice it easily, and it allowed her to constantly feel the one thing that reminded her she really had met Harry Potter.

Tomorrow would be St. Valentine’s Day, and she wondered if Harry would appreciate a card from her. Ginny decided to see Professor McGonagall after lunch and ask if the Professor would deliver a card to Harry. A whirlwind of thoughts and emotions whipped through her mind as she pondered how many cards he got. After all, he was Harry Potter! Despite the news of his death last year, Witch Weekly reported that Britain’s owl post system was sorely stretched to carry all the Valentine cards addressed to “The Boy Who Lived.” It would surely be the same this year. Hers would probably be lost in the loads of cards he received. On top of that she was going to have to make one; she blushed again because she did not have the money to buy a proper card. Perhaps it was just as well hers would be missed in the mass of owls he always received. “Still, it’s the thought that counts,” she muttered to herself.

But then, she thought, he had been living in secret for many years. What if he had never received any of the cards? An overwhelming wave of sadness filled her again. He seemed so nice, and yet so lonely, too. She mentally sighed. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Ginny pondered a poem that she had always wanted to give him. She would change it a bit; after all, he was a friend – a friend! – and not the object of some girlish crush. A smile formed on her face as the words began to sort themselves out, and she decided to work on the card after lunch.

That was how Ginny found herself sitting alone for the noon meal, because no other Gryffindor wanted to sit close enough to risk guilt by association. Professor McGonagall, and probably Percy too, had owled Mum about her new-found disrespect toward the school’s Professors. Her Mum’s Howler that morning had put the fear of God in everything within two miles of Hogwarts. Ginny was secretly pleased by the Twin’s new look of respect. The thunderous echoes had barely finished when she had made a show of clearing her ears and went back to her eggs and toast. Now she fixed a lunchtime sandwich as Professor McGonagall left the staff table and approached her.

The Professor’s tone was clipped and cool. “Miss Weasley, I want to see you in my office when you have finished eating.”

Ginny’s replied, barely on the proper side of respect, “I’m looking forward to it, ma’am.”

A half an hour later she stood before the office door for her Head of House. Ginny questioned her show of bravado when she had continued to eat her sandwich as if she had not a care in the world. That sandwich now sat heavily and uneasily in her stomach. She pressed the key against her chest once more, straightened her robes, and knocked firmly on the door.

A curt, “Enter,” sounded from within.

Ginny opened the door and walked into Professor McGonagall’s office. With a slightly insolent drawl she said, “You wished to see me, Professor?”

Sitting behind her desk, McGonagall said, “Shut the door,” in a tone that brooked no argument.

Ginny closed the door a little harder than necessary and moved toward the chair before the Professor’s desk. Her stomach gave a twist as she saw the Professor cast a privacy spell on the door. A warm voice from behind her asked, “I hope you will forgive my delay in seeing you again. It was not my intention to ignore you for so long.”

“Professor Dumbledore!” she said, flooded with relief at hearing his voice.

Dumbledore smiled and bid her to sit. “I understand you have been doing a marvellous job the past several days at playing the aggrieved trouble maker.”

Ginny blushed and looked down. “I can’t wait for Mum’s next Howler,” she said dejectedly. “The only good thing is while I am here she can’t set me to de-gnome every garden in Devon.”

Dumbledore chuckled. “I wish to tell you of the incident that will earn your detention. A detention served with me, I might add. Tomorrow, at lunch, you will prank the staff table.” Professor McGonagall gave what sounded like a disapproving sniff. “If asked why, you may answer that it was retaliation for the Professors confiscating your diary. That should satisfy the School’s gossip network.”

Ginny nearly fainted in shock. “The… the staff table sir? Isn’t that… er… a bit much?” she asked meekly.

“Not at all. After a rather banal bit of song, our hair will change to each other’s colours,” the Headmaster replied.

Ginny looked confused and asked, “How will that be tied to me, Professor?”

“I believe me looking right at you will suffice for the students to guess who initiated the prank.”

Ginny understood that Professor Dumbledore was a very smart man, but he obviously did not understand the Art of the Prank. “Professor, may I be allowed to suggest a couple of changes?”

Dumbledore looked at her in surprise. “Perhaps, Miss Weasley. What would you change?”

“What if you made everyone’s hair turn red?” McGonagall made that sniffing sound again. Ginny turned to face her and was shocked to discover the sound was not disapproving. Her dour Head of House was trying very hard not to laugh aloud.

Dumbledore was smiling, too. “I haven’t had red hair in many a year. I think for one day I could, again, sport the hair colour of my youth. Is that all, Miss Weasley?

“Um… well… no, sir. What if you had a banner appear over the staff table that reads ‘Red-Heads Have More Fun.’?”

“Because of past pranks, that would point towards your brothers, Fred and George, as the culprits. Of course they would be suspected anyway.”

“Well, yes, sir.” Ginny smiled slyly. “I hope you don’t mind if I prank them for just a moment! After the red-head banner a second one would read ‘The Longer the Hair, the Greater the Dare.’ Then when you look at me there will be no doubt. Besides,” she added with a bit of bravado, “if I’m going to be blamed for a major prank, I want that notoriety all to myself! Some of my brothers will be impressed.”

Dumbledore looked to Professor McGonagall, his eyes twinkling madly. “Indeed, Miss Weasley. I think I can arrange for that to happen. Those are excellent suggestions!”

“Will you be bringing me to your office after lunch, Professor?”

“Oh, yes,” the Headmaster said drolly, “I think you can definitely expect that to happen.”

“Could you give Harry a Valentine card from me? I know he might not even notice mine, but I thought I should make the effort,” Ginny finished haltingly.

“If you have a card for me when we meet after lunch, I will be pleased to deliver it personally. I think you might find that Harry will appreciate the gesture more than you could imagine. Do you have any other suggestions or questions, Miss Weasley?” Dumbledore asked.

“No, Sir. Oh, wait! If I may, what did you and Professor McGonagall whisper to each other in the anteroom?”

Dumbledore looked confused for a second. “The ante…? Ah,” he said. “To invoke the Charm I needed to know your full name.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess it is sorta funny,” she said dejectedly.

“Nonsense, Miss Weasley,” Dumbledore answered. “The name is quite lovely. Your parents named you well.”

Ginny began to blush madly. “Oh,” was all she could say in reply.

“I think that will be all for today, Miss Weasley,” McGonagall said kindly. Removing the privacy spell, she called out in a stern voice, “You will find there are limits to my patience, young lady. You would not wish to be in here again. Do I make myself understood?”

“Oh, absolutely, Professor,” Ginny sneered as she stormed out of the office and slammed the door closed in her wake.

On her way back to Gryffindor tower, Ginny wore a scowl to keep the muttering students from asking stupid questions. She ignored their staring and pointing by concentrating on what she wanted her card to say. Ginny decided to practice writing the poem a few times, so the script was just right, before using fresh parchment and decorating the border. The used scraps of parchment would make an excellent prop for her later fit of anger, when she would throw her “homework” into the common room fire. In her dorm room Ginny gathered her ink, quill, and parchment and closed the curtains around her bed. She absently hummed a Muggle song her Dad always played on the gramophone for her Mum and began to write out her poem.

The greenest eyes I have ever seen
Belong to the Dark Lord’s bane.
I hope this day finds you happy
And know your friend I gladly remain.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry!
Thinking of you,
Ginny

A/N: (1) I borrowed the existence of Corresponding Diaries, and specifically a “Guinevere” diary, from Arabella’s “Hermione Queen of Witches” stories.

(2) In Britain a Do-It-Yourself “DIY” is analogous to a Lowes or Home Depot store.

(3) Perspex is a 1940s (WW2) British term for what us Yanks call Plexiglas.

(4) My Ig-pay Atin-lay translates Adgnitionis Celare as “Shield the nature or the identity.” Adgnitionis Celare is something like a Fidelius Charm for knowledge.

(5) I borrowed the idea of magical “training orbs” from Bobmin356’s “Spiritus Crystalus.”