MetaFic

Chapter 7: A Riddle wrapped in a mystery

Harry squinted at the diagram before him, moving his hands in an attempt to understand the page’s static depiction of movement. The Muggle world had many benefits over the magical one, but in this instance he sorely missed the moving pictures. Harry looked up from his book as Sirius walked into the dining room and sat next to him at the table.

“They’ll be here in a moment, Harry,” his godfather warned. “Dumbledore will still want you to leave, but I remain against it. It’s important that you know tomorrow’s game plan. Just stay relatively inconspicuous, all right?”

Harry sighed and nodded. Apparently some of the other adults, specifically Professor Dumbledore, were still against his involvement in planning the agenda for Ginny’s first all-day detention. Harry felt a flash of irritation over Dumbledore’s using him as merely a tool. The Professor thought him old enough to be involved in a search for Dark Magic objects but not old enough to be involved with their disposal. Once again he chafed at being selectively treated as a child.

“Who does Moody side with?” Harry asked, curious.

“Me and Remus,” Sirius replied.

“So, the Professors are outnumbered again, yeah?” Harry said with a slight smile.

“Yeah.” Sirius barked a laugh and ruffled Harry’s already messy hair. “But don’t make him regret his decision that you’re old enough to take part. Also, Minerva is not opposed to including you, so be a good boy and she’ll be on our side next time!”

Remus joined them at the table, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece. “They…” he began when the fireplace erupted into green flames and Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall stepped into the room.

Dumbledore gave Harry a quick glance before greeting Sirius. “There you are. Minerva was able to obtain a blood sample from the girl -”

Harry opened his mouth to correct the Headmaster, but Sirius nudged him and shook his head slightly.

“- so you can key the Floo for her use between my office and here. We shall arrive by Floo from now until the end of the term. This should prevent questions when she disappears into my office for the duration of her detention. I strongly advise limiting her access to these two points, however. Do you agree?”

“Yes, thank you, Albus,” Sirius replied. “I’ll wait for Alastor to arrive before invoking the charm.”

“Of course, Sirius; a wise decision,” Dumbledore responded, giving Harry another glance.

After several minutes of exchanging pleasantries, the fireplace flared green again and Moody stepped into the tower. He shook the soot from his travelling cloak, looked about and huffed, “Last again, heh? Must be a sign of old age.” He caught Harry’s eye and gave him a discreet wink. “Oh, there you are, Albus! I saw your brother before coming here; Aberforth asked me to convey his contempt.”

Harry withheld a snicker, knowing it would not help the case that he was old enough to attend this meeting. Instead he pondered why Moody always made that remark whenever he Flooed from the Hog’s Head. At one time Harry had thought that the phrase was a private joke between brothers, but as he grew older he was no longer certain.

Moody looked at the book on the table in front of Harry. “Good boy!” he nodded approvingly. “You see the manoeuvres become more demanding as we move into three dimensions. It’s something Muggle pilots have mastered, but it seems to confuse most wizards.”

“Albus,” Sirius said loudly, rising from the table and moving to the fireplace, “why don’t you start off whilst I cast the charms to key this portal for the gir -”

Harry cleared his throat loudly, causing Sirius to sigh slightly.

“- for Ginny,” Sirius finished.

“Yes, that’s fine, please do so. However, Sirius, before we discuss tomorrow’s events I want to express my displeasure over what occurred last night.”

Harry sank into his chair, trying not to look guilty.

Sirius finished applying the small blood samples to the fireplace lintels and drew his wand to cast the acceptance spell. “What ever are you on about?” he asked nonchalantly. “The Contessa and I were being the soul of discretion. It’s not our fault some Muggle decided to return to his office at that time of night.”

Harry was extremely grateful that Sirius and Remus were the recipients of McGonagall’s furious glare.

Remus snorted a laugh and coughed. Harry thought he might have said “braggart.”

Dumbledore frowned. “I hadn’t heard about that, nor do I wish to. I want to know why you found it necessary to challenge Lucius Malfoy to a duel after the feast.”

“Huh? You’re talking about that challenge?” asked Sirius in surprise. “Trust me Albus, killing Lucius last night would have eliminated half your problems with the Board of Governors. Although some here consider blood-feud duels barbaric, it’s legal on the Continent. It’s certainly what an insidious bastard like Lucius deserves.”

“Sirius! You will mind your choice of words with a child present,” snapped McGonagall.

Before Harry could object to being called a child, Sirius winked at him and replied innocently, “Why, Minerva? Harry knows full well what ‘insidious’ means.”

“I remain at a loss to understand how such a duel would aid my efforts,” Dumbledore interjected harshly.

“Of course you do,” Sirius muttered. Louder he continued, “It wouldn’t, Albus. The almost duel last night was over money, not politics. Young Draco’s transgressions and punishments have cost Lucius a considerable amount of money as well as loss of face at the Ministry. That’s what made him a bit tetchy. What he called me out for last night was about his loss of control over the potions ingredients market -”

Alastor looked up. “That was you? You’re responsible for the market’s collapse?”

“Alastor, I am shocked you’d make such an accusation,” Sirius replied sarcastically. “Everyone knows that scoundrel Michael DuSult did it. Of course, having a silent partner with very deep pockets never hurts,” added Sirius with a predatory smile.

Dumbledore gave Sirius a concerned look. “How long do you anticipate the market fluctuations to continue? It is exceedingly difficult to budget for next year’s supplies in the current environment.”

“The potions market will stabilize within two weeks. You’ll find prices lower than before; Michael’s distribution system is a far more efficient than Malfoy’s medieval scheme.” Sirius shook his head in disgust and then paused for a moment. “So… Ah, yes. Lucius began to cast aspersions upon the Black Family name, and I simply called him on it. ‘Twas a pity Dear Cousin Cissy pulled him away. She doesn’t seem keen on reminding him she’s a former Black.”

“Yes, yes, all right,” Dumbledore sighed somewhat impatiently. “This discussion has strayed too far afoul. Let’s return to the purpose of our meeting here. Over the past week, Harry’s had several opportunities to observe the Weasley girl. Tomorrow I want a conclusive answer about the source of the magic she’s used -”

Harry closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses, and softly huffed.

“- and where she obtained the diary. From there we shall devise a plan of attack to break the possession, study the diary and then destroy it. Since tomorrow is our first full day of investigation into this diary artefact, I want to make certain last night’s meeting went more smoothly than Tuesday’s.”

“Er… yes. About that, Albus -” Remus began.

McGonagall interrupted, saying, “Miss Weasley -”

“Ginny!” Harry said with a loud, aggravated whisper. He then gulped as McGonagall paused and pinned him with a flinty stare.

“I have never made it a habit to call my students by their first names, Harry, and I have no intention of beginning to do so now,” she said pointedly.

Harry looked down at the table, abashed.

“As I was saying,” McGonagall continued, “Miss Weasley was in very high spirits today. Most of her professors mentioned that to me.”

“That is excellent news, Minerva,” replied Albus, nodding. He made a sour face at Sirius. “I am relieved to know that the previous disaster was not repeated.”

Sirius gave Remus a questioning look and they both looked at Harry. “Remus and I haven’t discussed last night in any detail, but I’m not aware of anything untoward occurring last night. Am I right, Remus?” Sirius asked warily.

As the other man nodded, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He really did not want to discuss the previous evening with the two professors present.

“Sirius, I hope you are reassured that your concerns over the Weasley girl -”

“Ginny,” Harry groused to himself.

“- are unfounded.”

Harry’s ears perked up at that. What? Why was Sirius concerned about Ginny?

Sirius looked at Harry. “We’ll see,” he responded with a guarded tone.

Dumbledore pulled out his pocket watch and stared at it for a moment. “I have an appointment with representatives from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang in forty-five minutes, so let’s not waste any more time with idle chatter.” Sirius looked at McGonagall, confused. She returned the look and then shook her head. “I want Miss Weasley -” Harry sighed in frustration. “- to repeat, if possible, the spells she performed this past Tuesday. Minerva, I would appreciate your selecting several spells from the first-year syllabus for her to perform, too, with Harry looking on. One each from Transfiguration, Charms, and Defence Against the Dark Arts should suffice.”

“Defence?” queried McGonagall. “You wish Miss Weasley to recite a section from one of Lockhart’s books?” she continued acerbically

Dumbledore grimaced. “Yes, I see your point. Well… I suppose repeating her stinging hex from Tuesday evening will suffice. Since Harry has classes tomorrow, I want to accomplish this first thing after our arrival. Are there any questions?”

“I thought, perhaps, Ginny and I could um… have time to talk, Professor, at least for a little bit.” Harry felt his cheeks grow warm and prayed Dumbledore did not ask why.

“We have a tight schedule, Harry; there are a number of questions we wish to ask Miss Weasley. Other topics will be discussed during your absence, however; I think it imperative that you observe Miss Weasley’s use of magic before you must leave. How long do you need to ‘talk for a bit,’ as it were?” the Headmaster asked sharply.

“Not long, just a few minutes,” Harry replied defensively. “Why do I need to watch Ginny do spells? We have the Pensieve memories from the other day, and just to make sure I observed her last night as she taught me some simple household spells. I wondered if –”

“What?!” shouted Sirius in surprise. Looking at Remus he barked, “Damn it, Remus! I thought we agreed no magic!”

“Language, Mr. Black!” McGonagall snapped.

Harry was puzzled by his godfather’s outburst. Why is he so concerned about Ginny doing magic? “Remus wasn’t here at the time,” he explained. “I asked Ginny to teach me some dishwashing spells. As I was saying, I wondered if there were any differences in her signature flares when she wasn’t in a stressful situation.” As both Sirius and Remus frowned he continued, “Well, I had to do something to get her to show me more magic. That seemed to be the perfect opportunity to watch her magic and for us to do something together,” Harry shrugged.

“Very good, Harry,” said Alastor approvingly. “You made the surveillance subject unobtrusively act in a manner of your choosing. Top marks, young man.”

That apparently got Dumbledore’s interest. “Were there differences in her flares, then?” he asked. “Different from what you’ve seen before, that is,” he added.

“No, actually. Um… Ginny’s signature flared all about her Tuesday when she did whatever she did with her wand. Like she was doing something that took all of her magic to do. The flares were limited to her hand and wand for the other spells. They were also limited last night as she taught me the dishwashing spells. Remus, do you think there’s some sort of impedance mismatch with her wand? It’s like she really has to work to perform those spells, but she can do them anyway.”

“An impedance mismatch? Do you really think so?” Remus looked surprised at Harry’s question. He asked, “Is she using someone else’s wand – perhaps a family heirloom? Albus, we need to check that tomorrow.”

“Ah, speaking of family,” Minerva interjected, “I heard back from Molly this afternoon. She said neither she nor Arthur bought Miss Weasley a diary. They bought all their books, except Lockhart’s, at the Magic Re-used second-hand book store. Alastor, is it possible to have an Auror investigate how a cursed diary came into their collection?”

“I doubt it. Scrimgoeur didn’t like my ‘additional commandos,’ as he called them, even when he worked for me. I’ll look into it myself, Minerva, on Monday.”

“Sirius, would it be possible to postpone Harry’s duelling class until Sunday?” asked Dumbledore. “It might help if he were to return earlier tomorrow afternoon. Harry could help keep Miss Weasley -”

“Ginny,” Harry muttered to himself.

“- occupied while we discuss the results of her spell demonstrations.”

“Professor,” Harry asked suddenly, “what about if Ginny goes flying with me and Moody tomorrow? I think she’d like that.”

“Not possible,” Alastor responded. “We’ll be covering three-dimensional air combat manoeuvres. And no, Minerva, these are hardly Quidditch plays for two people. Harry, you’ll need to pay close attention. There’ll be no time for goggling and flirting with the ladies.”

“I wasn’t going to -” Harry stopped as he noticed Alastor’s smirk. “That’s not funny,” Harry huffed while Alastor, Remus, and Sirius chuckled.

Looking at his watch again, Dumbledore tapped the table briefly for attention. “Are we through, then? Tonight is not a good time for me to engage in idle gossip.”

“Yes, Albus,” Sirius replied curtly. “We’ve no need to tie up any of your precious time.”

With a stern glance at the younger man, Dumbledore collected his Deputy and Flooed back to his office.

Moody stumped over to Harry’s side of the table. “Let me help you understand the diagrams in that book.” With a swirl of his wand, Moody transfigured a pair of tea cups into a red and a blue miniature aircraft. He set them on the table’s surface and tapped each, saying, “Flat scissors”, and then, “Rolling scissors.” Taking the miniature aircraft into his hand Moody called out, “Flat scissors.” The aircraft began to move through the air, giving Harry a live representation of the book’s static diagrams. Moody called, “Rolling scissors” and spent another ten minutes discussing the manoeuvre’s movements with Harry. Harry thanked him for his help, especially with the aircraft models. Harry had the models repeat the rolling scissors manoeuvre as Moody went over to the fireplace and Flooed away.

The moment the flames died out, Sirius turned to Harry and Remus. “All right, what the bloody hell happened last night? We agreed no magic, but she performed spells anyway. Why weren’t you here for that, Remus? And you, young man,” Sirius snapped at Harry. “Why was she in a good mood today? Remus told me she left here in tears last night.”

Harry looked up sharply; the two aircraft stopped in mid-air and clattered to the floor.

Before Harry could answer, he was fixed by Remus’ own penetrating stare. “The Hufflepuff diary is missing from the tower,” he said accusingly. “I know Ginny didn’t leave with it last night. Please tell me you didn’t try to contact her last night!”

Harry let out what he hoped was an innocent sigh. “I didn’t try to contact Ginny last night.”

Sirius grimaced, rubbing his face with his hands. “All right. We still need -” He stopped and looked at Harry. “You answered that too quickly for my liking,” Sirius said warily. He closed his eyes, tapping his index finger on his mouth several times. Opening his eyes, he gave Harry a cold, grey stare. “All right, Harry. Sit!” Sirius ordered, pointing to one of the lounge’s arm chairs.

Squatting down so his face was level with Harry’s, Sirius asked, “You didn’t try to contact Ginny after she left here last night, correct?”

Harry swallowed and nodded.

“Harry?” Sirius asked with an unnaturally calm voice. “Did you contact Ginny after she left here last night?”

Remus muttered, “Oh, no. How could you be so…” Remus joined Sirius, squatting before the arm chair, and Harry had the distinct impression of being trapped.

“Well…” Harry procrastinated, “she really liked that Hufflepuff diary… and then she left it here… soIusedAuroratosendittoher.” Harry spoke very quickly in the faint hope they would not notice what he said.

Sirius slapped his forehead with his palm. Through clenched teeth he ground out, “Please tell me you didn’t write a note to her in the diary.”

Relieved by the escape Sirius’ question gave him, Harry answered, “I promise, I’ll even swear an oath that I didn’t write anything in the diary. I didn’t think she would appreciate that.”

Although Remus and Sirius were placated for the moment, Harry desperately wanted to change the subject. “Er… since the both of you are here,” Harry said, “I have a question about what happened when Ginny wrote in the Hufflepuff diary.”

“What do you mean?” Sirius replied instantly. “Did something happen when she wrote in that diary, too?”

“Wait, Sirius,” Remus continued. “Does this have anything to do with your hesitancy yesterday, Harry? You obviously didn’t want to talk about it in front of her.”

Harry nodded and stumbled over his words as he began to speak. “Yeah. I… Well… Everything was normal when she wrote in the Flamel diary and when she began to write in the Hufflepuff diary, too. But then, after she looked at you, Remus, her signature brightened and the thread to her chest thinned out a whole bunch. I mean it didn’t disappear, or get pushed away or anything, but it got really thin. Remus, do you know what that was about? What did she write in the diary that caused that?”

“Just the chest thread thinned?” Remus asked slowly. “Not the mind thread?”

“The mind thread has never thinned or grown in the week I’ve been observing it,” Harry responded. “The only change I’ve seen is when she gets mad, and then her signature pushes both threads away. What did she write in the Helga diary to cause the chest thread to thin?”

“Harry, I gave Ginny my word not to discuss anything she writes in any diary. Sorry.”

“Okay,” Harry said slowly. “Um… so, what am I going to do tomorrow? I want to formally apologise to Ginny but not let Dumbledore and McGonagall know I buggered it up again.”

“Etiquette lessons for you and Ginny,” Sirius answered immediately. Remus gave Sirius a questioning look. “What?” replied Sirius. “Harry is supposed to socialise with her, right? I think it’s a perfect opportunity to practice some of the proper social conventions I’m teaching him.”

Remus’ expression grew more dubious.

Sirius scoffed at his friend. “I haven’t heard you come up with a cover story.”

Remus continued to stare a moment longer, shrugged, and then chuckled. “You have a point, Padfoot.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief that the conversation had moved past him explaining his ill-mannered behaviour toward Ginny. Unfortunately, Sirius looked back at him and asked sternly, “Now, young man, just how the bloody hell did you place yourself in a position requiring a formal apology?”

Ah bugger. Well, better this than explaining that letter to Ginny. Harry swallowed and haltingly began to recount his thoughtless teasing the previous night.

*******

Ginny awakened early so she could shower and brush out her hair with plenty of time left for breakfast. Despite the butterflies in her stomach, she wanted the settled feeling a full breakfast always gave her. Unlike Ron and the twins, who could easily sleep until the crack of noon, Ginny loved the early morning. Tom had compelled her to write long into the night, which had caused her initial unease. With her natural rhythm of sleeping and waking broken, she had begun to take extended lie-ins to compensate and often missed breakfast. In the week since Tom’s confiscation Ginny, had begun sleeping better and her nagging guilt over abandoning Tom had lessened. She welcomed the return to her habit of greeting the sun as it began the new day.

Ginny had not realised that other Gryffindors might be early risers and was surprised to step into the common room and find Hermione Granger there already. She looked like she had been there for a while, too. The older girl had claimed a table near the fire, presumably for heat and light in the pre-dawn darkness. She had neatly arrayed her books, extra parchment scrolls, ink and quills about her within easy reach.

Ginny shook her head to dispel her uncertainty over approaching her brothers’ friend without them present. Wearing what she hoped was a friendly smile, she said, “You’re unreal, you know that, right? I’m beginning to think the Twins weren’t having me on about you sleeping with a book under your pillow!”

Hermione looked up, slightly startled. “Why on earth would a Weasley be awake before sunrise? On a Saturday, no less.”

Ginny’s smile slipped as she replied, “Touché.” With a slight sigh she said, “Actually this is my first all-day detention, and I want a good breakfast before it begins.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Ginny, I forgot,” Hermione replied contritely.

“That’s the story of my life this year,” Ginny muttered while slowly shaking her head. “It’s all right, Hermione,” she said aloud. “I want to thank you for getting those books for me last weekend. Professor Dumbledore keeps going on about dark wizards. It’s no where near as bad as Professor Binns’ Goblin uprisings, but… It helped that I knew something about You-Know-Who before he started the lesson.”

“How’s that going?” the older girl asked avidly. “What’s it like with Professor Dumbledore in person? He’s supposed to be a bit barmy, but is it because he’s so smart? What is he having you do? Why history lessons? Are you doing any other extra work?”

Ginny pondered how to answer this deluge of questions. Her first response was going to be, “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” but she realised that would only invite even more questions that she could not possibly answer. She wanted to shout giddily that she had met Sirius Black and the Harry Potter. What she settled for was giving Hermione a non-committal shrug.

Unfazed, Hermione looked up at her eagerly. “What is he like? Isn’t it intimidating to be so close to someone that famous?”

“It’s…” She hesitated. Hermione expected to hear about Professor Dumbledore when in reality Ginny had spent almost no time with him. Ginny desperately wanted to tell her about Harry, but could not. Come on, Weasley, think. What if this was Mum asking these two questions?

“It’s… er… He is a bit intimidating; but… but he’s not at all like what I’d heard. I mean there are all these stories about him, but he’s so much nicer and friendlier in person.” Ginny frowned a moment. “I never thought he’d seem so alone.” Hermione looked confused by this. “I mean he’s so famous that everyone thinks they know everything about him, but they don’t; not really. But… but he’s really smart, even smarter than most people would ever imagine. He offered to help me catch up with my school work.” She was sure that even Hermione Granger would not realise that she was not really describing Albus Dumbledore.

Hermione’s eyes grew large. “Is he giving you private lessons? Is he? What is that like?”

Ginny mentally groaned. Her brothers had told her that Hermione in question mode would never shut up. She decided to deflect this conversation, to avoid further interrogation, so she let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know how I got so far behind. I feel quite lost at times. Even with all my brothers here, Hogwarts seems rather lonely.”

Hermione looked up and stared at Ginny, her face troubled. “Oh, Ginny! We shouldn’t have ignored you. I know how scary this place can seem when you first get here.”

“Please!” sniffed Ginny. “I know you, Neville, and the Twit Twins are busy. The Gryffindor Four – Pranks Galore! Ron has acted like I don’t exist since he came here a year and a half ago. The Kates make life rather... er… excruciating at times. Vivien’s nice but we don’t have that much in common, and I hardly see Luna anymore.” Ginny gave another slight shrug. “I’d still rather be here than anywhere else.”

Ginny paused a moment and sat on the arm of a chair next to the table. She looked about, although no one else was in the common room at that hour. “Hermione,” she said cautiously, “could I ask you something? I don’t want to be nosy; you can tell me to shut it if you want. I think it’s sweet that you and Neville traded Valentine cards -”

Hermione watched her warily.

“- but, uh, why Neville? I mean why him and not, say, one of my charming brothers?”

Hermione looked flustered and stuttered, “Well, it’s just… I don’t like to… to… to be the centre of attention.”

Ginny could not help but smirk. “Oh sure, that’s why your hand is always the first one raised.”

“No! That’s not it at all!” Hermione bristled. “I may not have had the advantage of growing up in a magical family, but I know these lessons! I’ve studied the material. I can answer the questions, even if no one else seems to want to.” She seemed to deflate slightly. “And the twins sort of crave the limelight, don’t they?”

“Always have,” Ginny replied with another smirk.

Hermione looked into her lap, fidgeting in the chair. “See, that just isn’t me,” she fretted. “I don’t like to be the centre of attention. It was so… so awkward before. Before I found out I was doing magic. Mum and Dad didn’t know what was happening. I know they love me, but they were also afraid of me sometimes. Everyone else would stare at me like I was a freak or something. It made me… self-conscious and quite nervous.” Looking up at Ginny she added forcefully, “And I hate feeling like that!”

Ginny thought of the whispers that had followed her all week. With that insight she said softly, “I can understand that.” She looked sideways at the older girl. “But still, why Neville? He’s a bit of a klutz, yeah? I mean I don’t even know why he’s in Gryffindor.”

“A klutz?” Hermione asked, clearly offended. Then she rolled her eyes and said, “Yeah, that’s Neville, sometimes.” Her voice took on a burst of animation. “But he’s also so very brave! He the one who convinced your brothers to look for me last year when that troll trapped me in the toilets. Nobody else even knew I wasn’t at dinner. Granted it probably didn’t take much to convince the twins to defy Percy, but they also defied Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore himself. They could have been expelled! Your brothers told me Neville was ready to fight the troll alone, if need be, to save me.” Hermione’s voice grew quiet and her eyes focused on something far away. “Madam Pomfrey told me later I would have died if Neville hadn’t found me.”

Ginny sat silently in shock. She had known that Hermione had been attacked by a troll the previous year, but she had never heard any details. Her voice still soft, she said, “I didn’t know.”

In a hushed tone Hermione said to herself, “Neville risked his life to rescue… to rescue me.”

Ginny was suddenly uncomfortable, as though she had intruded on a very private moment for Hermione.

Focusing on Ginny’s eyes, Hermione smiled proudly. “Don’t let Neville’s appearance fool you. There’s the heart of a lion in that one!”

Ginny felt that she had learned far more than she had expected for such a simple question, so she changed the subject again. “Are you about done there? I’d appreciate some company at breakfast.” She sighed. “Today is probably going to be a long day.”

“Breakfast?” Hermione teased. “Are you trying to tell me you’re hungry?”

Ginny giggled in response and waved a handful of her thick red hair at Hermione. “I’m a Weasley. When would I ever not be hungry?”

“So I’ve heard.” Hermione began to giggle, too. Motioning towards her books and parchments she said, “Let me put all this in my bag. I’m at a point where breakfast sounds lovely.”

Still giggling, both girls headed out the portrait hole to the Great Hall.

*******

Ginny was thrilled that Hermione accompanied her as far as the library. They had spent breakfast chatting enjoyably about girl things, causing Ginny to re-evaluate her impressions of her brothers’ friend. Truthfully, Ginny enjoyed it more than any other time since she arrived at the school. Unfortunately, her upbeat mood quickly dissipated as she continued, alone, to the Headmaster’s office.

She had been instructed to Floo to Harry’s tower for the rest of the year, and she was not comfortable with the idea. Not that she was uncomfortable with using the Floo network. She had Flooed hundreds of times in her short life, but never to a place protected by powerful magic. Professor McGonagall had asked her to stay after class the previous day and had taken a small sample of her blood. “This allows you to be recognised by the wards and use the Floo to and from your detentions,” she had said.

Ginny shuddered, remembering stories her parents and Bill had told about what happened to people who attempted an unauthorised breach of a blood ward. Standing before the fireplace in the Headmaster’s office, she nervously mixed a fresh pin-prick of blood with the Floo powder in her palm. Ginny gave the Headmaster a final glance and then very carefully enunciated, “Two zero aught two nine three, Marauder’s Tower.” She tossed the powder, hoped nothing bad would happen, and stepped into the swirling green flames.

She gave a relieved smile as she emerged into the now familiar surroundings of the tower’s lounge. A still-aloof Sirius, Remus, and an oddly sombre Harry were waiting for her and Professor Dumbledore. Ginny stepped out of the way for the Headmaster, who was immediately called away by Remus.

Harry moved next to her and gave a shallow bow. Ginny’s breath caught; he really was going to apologise to her again! “Miss Ginny Weasley -” he started gravely, but she held up a hand to stop him.

“You’re supposed to use my proper name with a formal apology,” she whispered kindly to Harry. Trying not to blush she told him, “It’s Ginevra Molly Weasley.” Suddenly very serious, she added, “But if you ever call me that outside of something like this, I’ll hex you into last week. Do you understand?”

His face still grave, Harry nodded. “Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley, I ask that you forgive my ah… immature actions from the previous evening. It was behaviour unbecoming of a gentleman and of the head of the Potter Family. I, uh… also humbly request your aid in preventing me from repeating such outbursts in the future.” He finished with another shallow bow.

Ginny could not help giving him a smile; his apology was even more heart-warming in person.

In the background she heard Professor Dumbledore’s confused voice ask, “What are they -?” He was promptly hushed by Remus, who hissed, “etiquette lessons.”

Taking a moment to steady herself, Ginny curtsied and looked Harry in the eye. “Mr. Harry James Potter, I accept your sincere apology for myself and on behalf of the Weasley Family. It would be my pleasure to help you whenever you request it.” Then she curtsied a second time.

Looking up as she rose, Ginny was shocked by the look of relief on Harry’s face. She realised that he had not expected her to accept his apology! She wanted to assure him that he was forgiven, so she gave him the brightest smile she could imagine. His endearingly wry smile in return was a more than ample reward for her.

Professor Dumbledore loudly cleared his throat. “So then, since the ‘etiquette lesson’ appears over, perhaps we can move on to something a bit more constructive. Miss Weasley, if you would join us at the dining table?”

Ginny took a seat opposite the Headmaster, the already waiting Professor McGonagall, and Auror Moody. This arrangement reminded her uncomfortably of the questioning she had endured the previous week in the Great Hall. Remus and Harry took seats at each end of the table. Sirius, she noted curiously, stood off to her side, away from the table. His cold demeanour remained, leaving Ginny to wonder why he was still angry with her. She exhaled a long breath and waited nervously for what would come next.

Professor McGonagall set a quill upon the table. She glanced at Harry and then said, “Miss Weasley, I want you to demonstrate the Levitation Charm using this quill.”

Ginny blinked. Performing a simple charm from early in the year was not what she had expected. Drawing her wand she gave it a quick swish and flick and said, ”Wingardium Leviosa.” The quill promptly rose and followed the movement of her wand tip. After directing the quill about in the air, she lowered it onto the table top.

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry, who rolled his eyes and shook his head. Turning back to face her, the professor said, “Very good, Miss Weasley.” She then produced a wooden match and placed it on the table. “And now, demonstrate changing this match into a needle.” Ginny looked at her Head of House in confusion. Was today’s detention session a review of her magical abilities? She thought for a moment, fixed an image in her mind of the match as a needle, and tapped the match three times while she said the incantation.

After inspecting the shiny silver needle lying on the table, Professor McGonagall again looked at Harry. He glanced into the study and shook his head again. He caught Ginny’s eye and rubbed his right palm with his left thumb. She returned his look in wide-eyed silence.

“And now reverse the transfiguration please, Miss Weasley.”

Relieved by her perfect transfiguration, Ginny gave her wand a slight flick and said, “Finite.”

There was no amused twinkle in Professor Dumbledore’s eyes as he pointedly asked, “Miss Weasley, is it true you can cast a non-verbal stinging hex?”

Ginny looked at the Headmaster in surprise. How did he know? She had never used that hex on anyone at school. Oh yeah. She felt her cheeks grow warm as she remembered attacking Sirius.

Knowing this was not the time or place to evade a question, Ginny swallowed and slowly answered, “Yes, sir. I can.”

“You realise, given your possession by a Dark object, that a non-verbal spell from a first-year student is highly suspect. Is there anything you want to tell me?” Professor Dumbledore asked as he peered directly at her.

Ginny flinched at the words ‘Dark object.’ “Well, I… last…” Ginny stammered. “Sir,” she said softly, “that’s something Bill taught me last summer. He told me that sometimes there are duels in the hallways -”

“Miss Weasley,” Dumbledore curtly interrupted, “I can assure you that duelling in the hallways is strictly forbidden. It might happen, but only rarely.”

This pronouncement was met with derisive snorts from Remus and Sirius. “Honestly, Albus,” Sirius told him, “if you still believe that you truly need to get out of your office more often.”

“Don’t worry, Ginny. We understand. Please continue,” Remus said kindly.

“Okay, sir… er… Remus. Bill told me that using non-verbal spells gives an advantage. The other person doesn’t know exactly what you’re casting and has to take a moment longer to counter the spell.”

Auror Moody nodded and gave Professor Dumbledore a hard look. “At least some students are getting a decent background in defence,” he growled.

Professor McGonagall glared at the old Auror and then asked, “Would you demonstrate casting that hex for us now Miss Weasley?” Her tone made it a demand rather than a question.

Ginny looked at Harry, who began to rise out of his chair.

“No! Stay in your seat, Harry,” Sirius commanded tersely. “Miss… Ginny, I want you to cast your hex at me. You won’t catch me unawares this time. There’s no chance you’ll do me harm,” he said dismissively.

Ginny stood uncertainly and faced Sirius. He cast a shield spell, stood behind it, and actually smirked at her. Ginny’s embarrassment at hexing him again evaporated quickly as she looked at the man’s annoying expression. Just what did I do to earn his scorn, anyway? she thought. I am not going to be treated like some silly little girl, even by the likes of the great Sirius Black!

Ginny raised her wand, imagining a red jet streaking out of its tip and racing towards that smug smile. She drew a breath, focused her thoughts on the incantation, and stabbed the wand forward as hard as she could.

Sirius’s smirk died as the resultant spell splattered against his shield before ricocheting into the ceiling. “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed.

“Mister Black,” Professor McGonagall said harshly, “you will watch your language when chil –“ She looked quickly at Harry, “- students are present,” she continued.

“You’re a first-year?” Auror Moody asked, impressed. “Minerva, I think you ought to award this young lady five points for a marvellous hex. I would if I saw a performance like that in a Defence Against the Darks Arts class.”

Ginny returned to her seat while the adults whispered amongst themselves about her non-verbal hex. Harry leaned toward her over the table and smiled. “Well done! That wiped the smile of Sirius’ face.”

Ginny warmed at his praise and began to smile back when his expression grew concerned. He quietly asked her, “Is your wand hand all right? How bad is the cramp in your palm?”

Ginny almost dropped her wand in surprise. “How did you know?” she asked in shock.

Harry said, “Tell you later.” He nodded at the adults, whose attention had returned to her.

“Well, Harry?” Professor Dumbledore inquired. “What did you see?”

“It’s like I told you all the other day,” responded Harry, a trace of annoyance in his voice. “There’s nothing coming through the threads to Ginny. Sirius, she hexed you all by herself.” Harry glared at Professor Dumbledore and added, “We know this is a serious matter, and neither of us appreciate being treated as children.”

Ginny was stunned that Harry would talk to Professor Dumbledore in that tone. However, that he had said ‘we,’ including her with him, did much to settle her nerves.

The Headmaster did not react to Harry’s outburst and returned to questioning her. “Now then, Miss Weasley, another spell that causes us concern is the non-verbal spell you inflicted upon Harry the other night.”

Ginny felt the blood drain from her face; so much for comforting praise, she thought. She turned to Harry and pleaded, “I’m really sorry about that. When I thought Sir- Mr. Black was a werewolf I cast it without thinking. Perhaps I owe you a formal apology, too.”

Harry looked at her with surprise. “There is no apology necessary. You were frightened and you reacted. Reacted pretty well, I think,” he added with the hint of a smile. Ginny barely had time to acknowledge his comment before Harry looked past her to Sirius. “And, Sirius,” he continued, his tone hardening, “there was no connection from Ginny to the diary for that one, either.”

Professor Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively. “What I want to know, Miss Weasley, is how you came by that particular spell.”

She had been embarrassed enough at hexing Harry. Now she had to tell him how she did it? Ginny decided to take the Twins’ tactic when cornered: come clean but say it fast and hope no one caught everything she said. “I… well… it’s another spell Bill taught me.” She took a breath and plunged on. “Right after he started as a Curse Breaker he came across an ancient Egyptian hex to get rid of bothersome people. He calls it a ‘nuisance hex.’ At least that’s what he claimed the hieroglyphics called it. But that’s such a boring name. Honestly, I wish the Egyptian wizards were as imaginative as the Goblins when naming things! So I call it the ‘Bat Bogey Hex.’” As a grand finale Ginny gave the room her best smile.

Harry immediately burst out laughing. “Well named, Ginny!”

“Is there a verbal incantation for this hex?” Professor Dumbledore asked her.

Oh bother, that didn’t work! “Well, uh… yes sir. I really don’t know it because it’s in Egyptian. Bill translated it for me, but it was very long and hard to say. I memorised the hieroglyphic symbols instead. I picture them in my mind and imagine the spell coming out from my wand.”

“Huh,” Remus snorted in amusement. “So that’s why Finite didn’t work. It isn’t a Latin based spell. Harry told us you said something like ‘comma’ to end it.”

“Comma?” Ginny repeated in confusion. After a moment she puzzled out what Remus meant. “Oh, no, it’s koma. Pronounced Koh-mah. It’s ancient Egyptian for ‘cease.’”

Professor McGonagall frowned in the ensuing silence. “It seems, Miss Weasley, that your eldest brother was inordinately concerned with your well being here. He is a former Head Boy,” she said with displeasure. “Surely he has more faith in our discipline. What of your other brothers? He should rely on them to guide and protect you while here.”

Feeling guilty for dragging Bill into her troubles, Ginny told her Head of House, “Well, ma’am, Bill’s the one I asked for some good spells to defend myself with because Percy is… well, Percy is Percy,” she shrugged in frustration. “Unless I’m doing something to bring dishonour to Gryffindor House,” she blushed at this, “or the Weasley Family, he doesn’t bother to give me the time of day. Ron’s just like him,” Ginny huffed, annoyed over Ron’s abandonment, “except he’s all about Quidditch rather than someday being the Minister for Magic. And the Twins?” Ginny paused and sighed deeply. “They’re in their own little world to tell you the truth. They learned long ago that I am not a good prank target, so they tend to leave me be.” Ginny smiled to herself at the memory from three years prior, when the Twins had last tried to prank her. She had turned their prank back on them, and after the ensuing chaos settled Mum had assigned them every chore in the house for two weeks.

“Bill listens to me when the others don’t,” she continued in a resigned tone. Ginny felt more sure of herself as she added, “I can talk to him about things I might talk with Dad about.” Her eyes flicked toward Harry as she thought, and maybe some things I won’t want to talk with Dad about.

“I see,” Professor McGonagall answered with a clipped voice.

“Yes, well,” said Professor Dumbledore. “Miss Weasley, there is one more feat of magic from the previous Tuesday evening that I wish to discuss. When Sirius first surprised you in his animagus form, how did you get your wand when you never physically drew it?”

Ginny glanced at Professor McGonagall. “I… ”

“Regardless of what some people continue to think, there’s no connection between Ginny’s magic and that diary,” Harry said pedantically. “If you really have doubts about that,” Harry continued, looking directly as Sirius, “you should talk to me.”

Professor Dumbledore turned to Harry and brusquely said, “Thank you, Harry. You’ve already told us that. I’m sure if there are any future doubts, you will be consulted.”

Harry frowned at the Headmaster but remained silent.

“You were about to say, Miss Weasley?” Professor Dumbledore prodded.

“That’s something else that Bill taught me.” Ginny cringed slightly as she glanced at Professor McGonagall. Reluctantly, she continued. “It’s just that he was really concerned about me coming here, even a year or so ago. I’m so little that even though I knew a couple of good spells, he thought larger students might try to take my wand and hex me while I’m unprotected. He was just trying to help me defend myself. In case of trouble, you know, so I could get my wand back quickly,” she finished plaintively

Professor Dumbledore cocked his head and slowly asked, “Miss Weasley, your brother Bill taught you that spell?” Ginny nodded, not knowing what more she could say. “Is it a magical tool he uses for his work?” the professor queried, a bit of excitement creeping into his voice. Ginny nodded again, thinking furiously about where he was going with these questions.

The Headmaster looked at her closely and blinked several times. Sitting up straight, he smiled, the twinkle returning to his eyes. “I know what that is! I’m surprised your brother was able to get permission to teach you that spell, and even more surprised you can actually perform it.”

Professor Dumbledore turned to the others at the table. “Curse Breakers must deal with many surprises and dangers. To be without your wand in a tomb is a fatal mistake. The goblins teach an unfocused, wandless calling spell so that if separated from their wand a Curse Breaker can retrieve it. But for someone your age to master that spell is an impressive bit of magic, Miss Weasley.”

“I’m not very good at it, sir,” Ginny answered nervously. “I’ve been working on it for almost a year and can’t call my wand more that a few feet from me. Bill can do it from The Burrow’s kitchen all the way to the pond!”

Seeing the Headmaster’s demeanour finally begin to relax, Ginny’s own nervousness began to fade. Nearby, Harry was vigorously arguing with Sirius and reminding him that there had never been a link between her magic and the diary. It came to Ginny in a sudden flash. Sirius had told her how important it was to guard Harry. Somehow, he thought of her as a threat to his godson. No wonder he had looked askance on her over the past several days! Ginny decided to work hard at proving herself worthy of Sirius’ trust as Harry’s friend.

With a final glare at Sirius, Harry turned to Ginny and asked expectantly, “Can you teach me that?” He looked at Remus. “Ginny was brilliant the other night, teaching me the dish washing spells. Even you could learn something from her teaching style.”

As Harry looked back at her, Ginny felt her cheeks grow warm. “I’m sorry Harry, but I can’t teach you how to do that,” she said reluctantly

“Of course you can!” Harry replied enthusiastically. “You’re a great teacher. I bet you’ll be a professor here someday,” he added.

Ginny blushed even further. “No, I mean I took a magical oath. Bill went to a lot of trouble to get permission to teach me. It’s… its sort of a Curse Breaker secret,” Ginny stammered, now thoroughly embarrassed by his praise.

“Since your brother seems to think nothing of teaching you inappropriately advanced magic, perhaps you could entertain us with a demonstration?” Professor McGonagall frowned. “It would be a shame for his concern and hard work to go to waste,” she added sharply.

Ginny cringed and made a mental note to write Bill and tell him to be careful the next time he spoke with Professor McGonagall. Preparing for the spell, she drew her wand and set it on the table by her seat.

“What happens if I’m holding it?” Harry asked.

“It will still come to me. But if you’re going to hold the wand, you must sit closer. I can’t call it from where you are.”

Oh, Merlin! I did not just tell Harry Potter to sit next to me, thought Ginny as her neck, face, and ears grew warm. She hoped that did not give him the wrong impression of her.

Harry moved to the chair next to her and picked up the wand from the table. “I just hold it?” he asked. Ginny nodded, unsure of her voice. “I don’t have to do anything else?” he clarified. She shook her head.

I’m being silly, Ginny told herself. Harry had sat next to her before, although not at her direct invitation. And I can do this spell, she thought confidently. Perhaps Harry would think better of her when she showed him. Harry sitting so close, and her own confidence, infused her with a reckless feeling. Gathering her courage, Ginny stared into Harry’s green eyes, winked, and called her wand. She smiled inwardly as the wand appeared in her hand.

Harry looked at his now empty hand. “Whoa! That was amazing. If I could slow down time I bet it would feel like sand flowing out of the palm of my hand. But it happened so fast; that’s the weirdest thing I ever felt!” Harry looked up at Ginny and gave her a big smile.

The adults ignored her and Harry as they talked amongst themselves again. Harry leaned in to Ginny and told her, “I reckon that much magic made your hand ache again.”

“It’s something I’m used to,” Ginny cautiously replied. “But how do you know about it? What am I doing that gives you that idea? Do I look like I’m in pain or something?” she asked nervously.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Harry said again. Then he shook his head vigorously. “No, it’s wrong to push this off. Would you come with me for a moment? We really need to talk to Remus about this.”

Ginny stifled a gasp as Harry took her hand and pulled her to Remus’ end of the table. He cleared his throat and asked, “Remus, next Tuesday can we discuss the impedance mismatch Ginny is experiencing between her magic and her wand?”

“A what mismatch?” Ginny demanded. “And just what is wrong with my wand?”

“I’m sure there is nothing wrong with your wand, Ginny,” Remus answered with a reassuring smile. “Harry has jumped right into things without any sort of explanation. He does that from time to time when we research magic. It can be quite bothersome.” He smiled again to take the sting out of his words. “Ginny, we’ll talk more about this on Tuesday, but I can’t guarantee any precise answers. Magic is funny like that.”

“All right then, I’ll wait until Tuesday to hear more about it.” Ginny gave Harry a questioning look. “I’m going to hold you to that. It’s not good manners to keep a lady waiting, you know.” It was her turn to smile and let Harry know she was not serious.

Harry blushed but smiled slightly. “Thanks, Ginny. I’m glad you are giving me some advice. You know I need it!”

Ginny thought she would melt over making Harry blush and smile.

Harry’s expression turned serious. “Are you going to talk to Sirius about this stupidity, Moony, or should I? I’m calling in some markers on this, and we’re going to hit him with a huge prank.”

“Let me have the first attempt at clueing him in, Bambi.” Remus smiled back at Harry.

Harry gave Ginny a panicked glance and hissed, “I don’t like that nickname, Remus. I don’t understand it. You two never explain where it came from and it makes me sound like a girl.”

“It’s from a book. Based on your early tests, Sirius and I think it quite fitting,” Remus answered mysteriously.

As Harry stood looking utterly confused, Professor Dumbledore called for everyone’s attention. “I think we have made solid progress in determining what magic is Miss Weasley’s and what is channelled to her through the threads of possession.”

“As in none,” grumbled Harry.

Ginny blushed beet red in embarrassment. “Do they really think I’m some glorified squib?” she whispered to Harry.

“I never thought that,” he answered. “Of course my knowledge doesn’t count for much,” he chuffed. Holding his arms out from his sides he continued, “I’m still a child.” He sneered the last word.

“And that’s why Sirius is mad at me?” she asked, looking for confirmation of her previous guess.

Harry gave her a curt nod. “Yeah, I just figured that out last night. Remus and I are going to straighten him out about that real soon,” he said angrily.

Ginny looked over at Sirius and replied quietly, “He’s just worried for you, Harry. I’d be the same way in his position, you know.”

“This is a good time for a short break,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Blinkin will bring us some tea in a moment. I’m sure Alastor and Harry will both appreciate the warmth soon.”

Auror Moody replied with a snort, and Ginny could not decide whether it was from disgust or humour.

Harry looked at her. “Oh, jolly. More practice for my Warming Charm,” he sighed.

“What do you mean?” Ginny asked as she took a tea cup from the house-elf.

“Moody and I will be outside for a bit with… ah… with Defence training,” Harry responded.

“Wait! Outside? You’re… you’re leaving me here? By myself?” asked Ginny, stunned. “I thought we’d be working together later today.”

“Yeah, we’re supposed to,” Harry told her, “but I’ve still got classes to attend before that.”

“Classes on a Saturday?” Ginny exclaimed, still in shock over Harry leaving.

“Training is important,” Harry said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Albus, I’ll be taking a large flask of that tea for young Harry and me.”

“That’s fine, Alastor. Shouldn’t you be leaving soon?”

“Get yer broom, Harry,” said the old Auror. “We’ll be no good without it.”

Harry hurried up the stairs and raced back down with a broom Ginny recognised as a Comet Two Sixty. She followed him to the fireplace, where he stood next to Auror Moody, who had mixed his blood with Floo powder. The Auror called out, “Two zero aught two nine three, North Rona cottage,” and stepped into the flames.

“See you soon, Ginny!” Harry cheerfully told her. Mixing his blood with the powder, Harry called out the same destination as the Auror and vanished into the swirling green fire.

Ginny stood by the now empty fireplace, a familiar feeling of abandonment washing over her. Not knowing what else to do, she numbly returned to her chair at the dining room table.

After an all too brief tea break, Remus said, “Albus, do you mind if I begin this next bit?”

The Headmaster held his hand out, palm up. “The floor is yours, Remus.”

Remus calmly said, “Ginny, the other evening you told me your parents bought the diary as a gift for you.” Ginny nodded, wondering where this was going. “We checked with them to see where they bought it. Your mum told us they didn’t buy you a diary. As a matter of fact she was surprised you didn’t tell them about finding a strange book.”

“What?” Ginny blanched. Possession by a Dark object was bad, but doing something that caught Mum by surprise was definitely not a good thing.

“Fear not, Miss Weasley. I have informed your mother that more Howlers are not appreciated at this time.”

Like that’s going to stop her for long, Ginny thought as she gulped and nodded. “But if they didn’t give it, where did it come from?” she continued in confusion.

“That is what we are trying to ascertain, Miss Weasley,” said Professor Dumbledore. “You said you discovered it inside your Charms text book?” Ginny nodded at the old wizard. “And as far as you know, your parents bought all of your text books at Magic Re-used. Do you remember that?”

“All except the Defence books, sir,” she added sourly. “Actually, I picked out the Charms book myself. It was the best of the lot they had there. Ron sorta ruined our copy last year so we needed another one.”

“Wait,” Remus said suddenly. “You looked through that Charms text book before choosing it?”

Ginny nodded. “Of course. I wanted one in good condition.”

“So there was no diary in the book at the store?” he asked.

“No. I would have remembered that,” answered Ginny.

“Okay,” Remus continued. “We need to let Alastor know about that,” he told the others. “So, after your parents bought the book you didn’t see it again until you were home?”

Ginny started to nod again but stopped and frowned. “No, that’s not right. I dropped my bag with the books at Flourish and Blotts. There was a long line to get Lockhart’s books -”

“Professor Lockhart,” the Headmaster corrected her.

Ginny felt her cheeks grow warm once again. She was mortified to be corrected by the Headmaster, even in private. “- Professor Lockhart’s books, because he was signing each and every one.” Ginny sighed with exasperation and thought for a moment. Why had she dropped her book bag? Looking up suddenly, she blurted, “Oh, I remember! My dad and Mr. Malfoy got into a fight at the bookstore. Hagrid broke them up. Mum was so embarrassed. She didn’t talk to Dad for the rest of the day when we got home.”

“Ah,” Professor Dumbledore said. “I remember Hagrid telling me of that incident. We thought Mr. Malfoy was making a crude attempt to intimidate your father because his Muggle Protection Act was under debate at the Wizengamot. But why did you drop your bag?”

“Somebody bumped into me, hard, just before they started to argue. I think it was Mr. Malfoy. He was being rude to Hermione’s parents, too, and probably didn’t notice me. We both dropped the books we were carrying.”

Sirius, Remus and the two professors sat up and shared a look that Ginny did not understand. Was she going to be in more trouble?

“Thank you, Miss… Ginny,” Sirius finally answered. “That gives us some more information on where this diary may have come from.”

Ginny was still pondering the look between the adults. With a flash of insight, she gasped aloud. “Maybe that diary belongs to him, and I picked it up by mistake when I picked up mine. If it’s Dark that’s probably where it came from,” she added with a shudder.

Ginny realised that something was just not adding up. Surely Mr. Malfoy would have noticed his diary was missing. Granted he was not the sort Ginny figured for carrying about used books, but he was the sort to make trouble for her dad. If he knew it was missing he probably would have claimed her dad stole the stupid diary. Maybe he did not know he had lost it. What was one old book to the posh Malfoys?

As the adults shared another look she thought, There’s a whole lot going on here that I don’t understand. I probably don’t want to understand either. She sighed despondently and began to worry at the key beneath her robes.

“So, um… Anyway, I don’t remember seeing my Charms book again until I was unpacking my school supplies at home. I looked through it again and that’s when I found the diary.” She shrugged her shoulders as there was not much else to the story.

“How long have you had this diary?” queried Remus.

“We went shopping a week before catching the train for school,” Ginny replied. “I found it that evening and began to write in it.”

“And you’ve been writing in it all this time?” Professor McGonagall asked warily. She looked at Professor Dumbledore, who was stroking his beard thoughtfully.

Not sure what to say, Ginny merely nodded.

“You are fairly well accustomed to this diary, right?” said Remus. “And it told you it’s a memory of someone named Tom preserved in the book?” Ginny nodded again.

“Has this Tom told you anything about himself?” Professor Dumbledore asked slowly.

“He doesn’t write about himself much. He did tell me he used to be a student here at Hogwarts,” said Ginny, sure of her answer for once.

“Do you know when?”

“Not really. He told me he went here a long time ago, but he wasn’t really specific. He understands what it’s like to be away from home for the first time, though,” she added with a plaintive note.

“Does writing in the diary still give you headaches?” Remus asked.

“I never thought writing to Tom was giving me headaches.”

“What about when you first began to write in the book?” Remus pressed.

“Well, when I began to write to him I’d do it at night, under the bed sheets, so I was squinting because the light wasn’t good.”

Remus grimaced and asked, “When did you notice you no longer got headaches?”

“After I got here, I think. The sconces on my headboard give much better light, so the headaches went away after a couple of weeks.”

Professor McGonagall gave Professor Dumbledore a long, hard look. Ginny did not know what it meant, but she had the impression that the professors thought something was wrong.

Professor Dumbledore now frowned, though it seemed from thought rather than anger. “This Tom obviously knows your name; do you know his? Besides his first name, that is,” added the professor.

“His initials and last name are written on the front page of the diary. I tried to erase them for several days after I got it, but nothing seemed to work. It took me forever to get him to tell me his middle name. He said he never liked his name and preferred to go by just Tom,” Ginny replied. She remembered with how reticent Tom had been. “I don’t think there is anything wrong with his name. I mean look at me, Ginevra?” She shook her head in disgust.

“And his name is -” led Remus impatiently.

Glad to give another answer she was sure of, Ginny replied, “Oh! It’s Tom Riddle.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees, and the very air became thick and oppressive. The adults’ responses caught Ginny completely unawares.

“Son of a bitch!” spat Sirius, leaping out of his chair. He began to raise his wand above his head, but Professor Dumbledore pushed his arm down. Ginny wondered if he was going to curse her, but he had not pointed his wand at her, or anyone else for that matter. She had no clue what he had tried to do.

Professor McGonagall was pale as a ghost, while Remus stared into the study with a cautious expression.

Sirius looked at Remus and Professor Dumbledore and snapped, “I told you. Damn it, I TOLD YOU!”

“Sirius, I don’t think contacting Alastor is going to help anything right now,” Professor Dumbledore warned.

“Fine,” Sirius snarled. “But Harry and I are out of here an hour after he gets back from his classes!”

“What?” asked Ginny, frightened by Sirius’ response, Professor’s McGonagall’s pallor, and Remus’ expression. “What did I do? Why does Harry have to leave?” she yelped.

Professor Dumbledore leaned forward and fixed her with a stare. “Is the middle name ‘Marvolo’?” Ginny nodded, silently. There was not the slightest hint of a twinkle in the headmaster’s hard blue eyes. “Miss Weasley, are you absolutely certain your diary used that name?” the Headmaster asked her carefully.

“Am I in trouble? Do you … do you know who Tom was?” she stammered.

“No, Miss Weasley, you’re not in trouble. Unfortunately you are hardly the first to fall victim to his persuasive powers.” Professor Dumbledore sighed wearily.

“You knew him, then?” she asked warily.

“Miss Weasley, I know him quite well. He was a student here, one of my students, actually. I find it interesting that his memory in the diary still uses the name Tom. He hasn’t answered to that name in a long while.”

“Tom is still alive?” Ginny gasped in horror. She stared into the study where her diary lay. Did he use it to watch her? Was he watching her at that very moment? Remembering his voice from the other evening, and from similar private times, she shuddered. If Tom was alive… could he see her at times like that? Ginny shivered and wrapped her arms about her chest; she had never felt so naked and violated in her life.

“That is an excellent question, young lady,” Professor Dumbledore continued. “It appears so, but even I am at a loss to explain why.”

Ginny pulled her key outside her robes and rubbed it anxiously. The atmosphere in the room grew more frightening with every passing moment. Something was very, very wrong here. Her shivers grew to trembles, and she was afraid to ask a question that was suddenly so important. She still held out hope that Tom was a victim of Dark magic. But what if he was not? It was not that question which frightened her, but the possible answer.

“Was… Is Tom Dark?” Ginny asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Professor Dumbledore again peered into her eyes. He seemed to reach a decision and sighed sadly. “I am afraid, Miss Weasley, that he was and remains quite Dark.”

“Ginny,” Remus said gently, “this Tom, Tom Riddle, is the real name of who everyone else knows to be Lord Voldemort.”

“Wha… what?” Ginny barely managed to stammer. She shook her head in disbelief, feeling impossibly cold and beginning to tremble uncontrollably. She looked into the study again, fearfully expecting the diary to rise up and devour her. “I’m… I’m possessed by You-Know-Who?” she asked in a barely audible voice.

She could barely breathe, and her vision grew unfocused and dim. The last thing Ginny remembered was falling out of her chair as darkness overcame her.

*******

Ginny gradually became aware of floating in a warm comfortableness. It was soothing, and a part of her wanted to stay wherever she was. She knew she was not at home and wondered if she was in her dorm bed. Consciously taking a deep breath, she stretched and discovered a blanket draped over her and tucked in along her sides.

“ ‘Lo, Ginny,” Harry said quietly.

“Harry?” she responded. Her lips moved into a slight smile.

Suddenly her eyes flew open. Harry! She scrambled away from him as he sat next to the sofa. “You have to stay away from me!” she blurted out in panic. “Didn’t they tell you? I’m tainted. I’m Dark. I might hurt you! I couldn’t live with myself if I ever even tried to do that. Aren’t you listening? Why are you still here? Get away, now. I’m not safe!”

Looking about wildly, Ginny stumbled over the edge of the sofa and backed away from Harry, toward a corner of the room.

Harry rose to follow her. “Ginny, calm down,” he said worriedly.

Violently shaking her head, Ginny tried not to succumb to the panic that You-Know-Who would strike Harry through her. “Get away, please!” she begged, her voice growing ragged. “Listen to the professors! I’m possessed by You-Know-Who. I’m Dark; I’m disgusting, and tainted. You shouldn’t be anywhere near something like me; it isn’t safe!” she babbled. She felt her self-control crumble and could not stop the tears that began to track down her face.

Harry looked past her shoulder and gave his head a slight shake. “You’re not Dark, Ginny. The professors told me what happened after I left. Voldemort has some kind of ties into you, but that’s not you – you’re anything except Dark. Trust me,” he told her calmly.

“What do you mean? How can you say that? How would you know?” Ginny continued to babble. She began to hope, to pray, that Harry was right; that he just was not saying that to baby her, to coddle the stupid little girl who let You-Know-Who possess her. As that thought came to the fore, she felt her eyes and face grow hot. No longer able to control her emotions, she let out a gasping sob.

Retreating in to a corner, she felt about for a chair. Turning to look for one, she saw Remus, Sirius, and Auror Moody standing in the doorway to the study, silently watching her. Finding no chair, Ginny’s legs gave out and she sank to the floor.

Her voice trembled as she asked, “Is Auror Moody here to take me to Azkaban?”

“No, Ginny, he is not,” Remus told her softly.

Harry walked slowly towards her, and she shrank against the hard stone wall, trying to stay away from him.

“Ginny, listen to me,” Harry said gently. “Nothing has changed from when we first met, okay? Well… um… we do know who Tom is now. But your Tom Riddle was not our Lord Voldemort – at least not then. He was still a Dark wizard, but nothing all that special, all right?”

Ginny refused to look at Harry, embarrassed by the tears soaking her bottom eyelashes, running down her cheeks, and making her sniffle. She really, really wanted to believe Harry. His voice was so calm and soothing. She listened to it as a balm against her horror and panic.

He sat on the floor a foot from her. “You aren’t Dark,” he repeated. “I’m pretty sure you could never be Dark. Riddle tricked you,” he said, a trace of anger in his voice. “He was a very devious person while here at Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore told me he fooled a lot of people, even most of his professors. He’s done the same thing to you.”

Harry reached toward Ginny, but she flinched away, unwilling to defile him with her touch.

“I’m a stupid, silly girl who let herself be trapped by a Dark Lord,” argued Ginny. “It’s all my fault.” She bitterly cursed herself. Her brothers had been right. She was merely a weak and stupid child who could not take care of herself.

“You’re not Dark,” Harry stated firmly. “Nor are you stupid or silly,” he continued in that calm voice. “You might be a bit thick, though,” he added with a touch of mirth.

Ginny’s head snapped up and she saw Harry’s slight smile. “Stop,” she replied with a half sob, half laugh.

Harry’s smile grew wider. “Are you willing to listen to me now?”

Ginny wiped her nose on her sleeve and croaked, “Yes.”

Harry appeared lost in thought for several seconds, but his smile returned as his eyes focused on her. “Do you remember when you swore to the Adgnitionis Celare Charm? How the room was filled with a golden glow?”

Ginny nodded gravely. How could she forget? The events of that afternoon had turned her whole life upside down.

“That glow,” Harry continued, “was a reflection of your magic, not Tom’s. Your … your magical signature.”

Ginny shook her head, not understanding. “My what?” she sniffled in confusion.

“Everyone and everything magical has a signature that reflects the magic within. Your signature shines gold. I see it. When you sealed the Adgnitionis Celare Charm, the glow was not from the Charm, it was a reflection of your magic. The strength of your will, the purity of your commitment, caused your signature’s colour to fill the room. When you had the diary with you, there was a very faint Darkness about you, but when we removed the diary then the Darkness was gone, too. Tom is trying to overcome you, to control you, but he can’t.”

“My signature? I don’t understand; how can you see magic?” Ginny asked with disbelief.

“Um… Remus’ Theory explains that. Sort of. We all have receptors and conduits for magical energy. It’s the concentrations of these that set us,” he motioned to her and himself, “apart from Muggles. It’s why we can do magic outside our bodies and they can’t. I have an unusual concentration of receptors in my eyes, rare but not unheard of. It allows me to see magic.”

“And my… my signature is… is gold?” she asked tremulously. “Does that mean anything?”

“Oh,” Harry said, sounding surprised. “You know, I honestly don’t know. We never thought to make a correlation between a person and their signature colour. So, um… sorry, I just don’t know if it means anything. I’ll ask Remus about that tomorrow, all right?”

“What about you?” Ginny asked curiously. She started to reach out to him, but stopped. “What colour is your signature?”

“Red. Well, not bright red, but reddish,” Harry shrugged. Glancing at the adults still in the doorway Harry said, “That’s how I know about your palm cramping when you use your wand. I can see the magical flare of your spells.”

Ginny began wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her robe, blinking away the last of her tears. She held out her hands, squinting as she twisted them. “Gold? I look gold?” she quietly asked again, in wonder.

Harry nodded. “You’re beautiful,” he told her quietly.

What?! Ginny’s eyes opened wide and she felt a flush creep from her chest, up her neck and face, and into her scalp. “What?” she barely managed to whisper aloud.

A flash of confusion crossed Harry’s face and then he stammered, “Y… Your signature, the… that’s beautiful. Gold beautiful.” His cheeks took on a decidedly pink hue.

Ginny shook her head in wonder. Harry Potter just stammered and blushed over me? That act made Ginny feel worthwhile and important for the first time in months.

Harry sighed and then that wry smile appeared again. He stood and offered his hand. “Come on, Ginny, you’re the last person who should be sitting on a cold stone floor.”

Ginny accepted his touch this time. He had a firm grip that warmed her hand. She knew she ought to be thrilled by the chance to hold Harry’s hand again, but after today’s events his touch was not a thrill but a lifeline saving her from drowning in despair.

Harry led her to the dining room table and pulled out a chair for her to sit on. “Can I get you some tea? Perhaps a light dinner? There are some sandwiches left.”

Ginny softly gasped as she looked out the lounge window. A deep purple twilight was rapidly ceding its place to the fathomless black of the night sky. “What time is it?” she asked, still uncertain of her voice.

“Just past six,” replied Harry.

Stepping into the dining room, Remus said, “We didn’t wish to wake you after the shock you suffered this morning. Madam Pomfrey brought a gentle Dreamless Sleep potion. She gave it to you after we were sure you were all right.”

“Would you like some chamomile tea? It helps me when I‘ve had a crap… er,” Harry glanced at Remus, “bad day.”

Ginny nodded, still not trusting her voice, and gave Harry a grateful smile.

“Ooh! I forgot. We have a tray of biscuits! Sandwiches and tea with pudding, yeah?” Harry said cheerfully. He stepped into the kitchen and quickly returned to the table with several sandwiches on a plate, with a napkin. Conjuring a teapot and a pair of cups, he summoned tea and set it into the pot to steep. Finally he summoned the tray of biscuits and lowered them to the table in front of Ginny.

Ginny gave Harry another grateful smile and let the warm tea course through her. Eating in silence, she observed Harry as he sat around the corner of the table. She was intrigued because after she had awakened and the full weight of her stupidity had crushed her down, he had seemed to know just what to say and just what to do. She wondered if he had done that before, because he had been so sure of what he was doing. How could he know to stay close but not crowd; to watch her but not stare obtrusively? During her two previous detentions he had behaved like any boy: rather thoughtlessly at times, sort of like Ron.

While Ginny took another bite of her sandwich, Harry picked up a biscuit and began to chew it absently. He was watching over her now. He was not being an over-protective git about it, like her brothers. He acted like a concerned… friend. She looked right at Harry, saw him blush slightly, and knew for certain he was watching her. He caught her eye and smiled. It was his wry smile! Maybe, someday, it will be your wry smile, a corner of her mind giggled.

How did he know things, she wondered again. He knew about the ache in her hand after she cast spells. He was positive she was not Dark. But why? Could she trust him as she had once trusted Tom? The thought of Tom, of You-Know-Who, caused her to shudder. Harry immediately looked at her.

Ginny shook her head slightly and smiled. “I’m fine. It’s just an odd chill.”

She saw genuine concern in his eyes. Looking into those emerald green eyes Ginny had her answer; neither the concern nor the relief those eyes expressed were lies. Certain she was right, there was only one thing left to do.

After another cup, a sandwich, and several chocolate biscuits she felt ready to ask some questions. “What happened to Professor McGonagall? Is Professor Dumbledore still here?”

“Sirius had some er… words with Professor Dumbledore after you … you… um… well, you passed out. He and Professor Dumbledore are checking sources which claim what’s left of Voldemort is still in the Balkans somewhere. We should know something tomorrow evening. So… oh yeah, Professor McGonagall stayed with you most of the afternoon to make sure you were all right, but she left to eat dinner in your dining hall.”

“She was here looking after me?” Ginny asked, shocked the dour professor was capable of something so motherly.

“She was here after Moody and I got back from my classes. So, there you are,” said Harry with a smile and slight shrug.

“Auror Moody is teaching you? Are you an Auror, too?” she asked with astonishment.

“No,” Harry said with a forced laugh.

“Oh,” Ginny responded. Despite Harry’s light answer he did not seem to want to discuss his training any further.

Thinking of another topic, one that did not include diaries and Dark magic, Ginny asked, “Harry, if it isn’t prying too much, how did you know my palm hurts when I do magic? You said that it’s part of your… your ‘seeing magic’ ability?”

“Yeah. As the magic flows outward through the conduits in your arm and hand, it’s transferred and focused through your wand. There’s a saying that the wand chooses the wizard, or witch in your case, and that’s why it’s said. Magic doesn’t flow freely… there’s always some resistance. When the impedance within the, er… witch and the impedance within her wand aren’t the same, a mismatch is created. If a mismatch happens there isn’t a smooth transfer of magic from you to the wand, and you… kind of lose some of the power where you hold it. That power loss makes it harder to perform the spell. I see the mismatch as a flash through your palm when you cast a spell. I almost laughed when you hit Sirius’ shield with the stinging hex.” Harry began to chuckle. “You really put a lot of yourself into that, and it served Sirius right!”

“Is this bad for me? Will it hurt my ability to do magic, to cast spells?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose as you progress to more complex spells it might. You really shouldn’t have those hand cramps. Where did you buy that wand? Is it an Ollivander?”

Ginny flushed again in embarrassment. “We couldn’t afford a new wand for me,” she said quietly. “This one belonged to my great-great-Aunt on my mum’s side,” she continued with her head ducked down.

“I’m not the best on wand lore,” responded Harry. Then he laughed. “From what Remus and even Dumbledore, uh… Professor Dumbledore have told me, no one has much knowledge of wand lore. Anyway, I do know wands within families usually work quite well. Unless a wand is broken, why not pass it down? It’s a good wand, then, this one from your aunt?”

“It’s supposed to be a really nice wand. I feel lucky to have it. My brother, Ron, has to use my older brother Charlie’s old wand. It’s all beat up and he’s not so happy about that.”

“Wartcap Charlie?” asked Harry, a smile on his face.

Ginny looked at him, her lips curling into a smile, too. “That’s the one!” As they both laughed, Ginny felt more of the cold from earlier recede. Harry had remembered her story! Somehow she just knew the name ‘Wartcap Charlie’ was going to stick.

After laughing for a few moments, Harry sat back and looked at the ceiling. “I’ll bet there’s a better wand match for you,” he mused. “Maybe I can get you another wand.”

Ginny shook her head quickly. “I’m not going to accept charity,” she said firmly. “This wand is just fine; I can do good magic with it.”

Harry let a sigh. “What if it isn’t charity? We can’t let anyone know why you’re getting a new wand.” He suddenly looked back down at Ginny, wearing a pinched, worried expression. Leaning toward her he whispered, “Sirius and Remus know about me sending you the diary. That wasn’t a pretty scene.”

Surprised at the sudden change of topic, Ginny whispered back frantically, “I didn’t tell them anything!”

The worry eased from Harry’s face as he whispered back, “I’m sure you didn’t, but they figured it out somehow. They also asked if I sent you a message. Well, actually Sirius asked if I wrote to you in the diary. I told him I would never betray your trust like that, opening and writing in your diary. I think he liked that answer because he didn’t ask me about messages any more.” The worried expression returned. “Please keep that letter out of sight!”

“You can trust me on that, Harry!” Ginny replied fervently.

Ginny looked at him for a moment. If Harry could see magic… “Harry,” she asked softly, “what does magic look like?”

“It… I don’t know, I mean I don’t know how to explain it,” he frowned. “It would sorta be like explaining sight to a blind person. Not that I’m calling you blind or anything!” Harry quickly added.

Ginny gave Harry a smile for his effort at manners and was startled by the look of relief on his face.

“But… but what do you see?” Ginny pressed. “How do you see it? Isn’t everything all foggy like?”

Harry laughed. “No. It’s sorta like a halo about things. Remus and I originally used the term ‘aura,’ but that confuses things with Divination,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “Each person’s magic is different, leaves a different trace, like a personal signature. So we decided the term signature is the best description. This castle actually glows with magic. It’s phenomenal! Of course it helps to be built on the intersection of a number of flux lines, but still -”

“Flux lines?” Ginny interrupted. “What’s a flux line?”

“It’s a channel of magical energy, sort of a river of magic. Being near one makes it easier to perform magic. Hogwarts is at the junction of several and literally draws its magic from the earth around it.”

“So these signatures don’t make it hard for you to see? Even though you’re looking right at me?” Ginny felt another blush grow.

“No,” replied Harry. “It’s like… it’s like…” Harry pursed his lips and stared past Ginny.

She saw something flash in his eyes. She did not know what it was exactly, but she just knew Harry had figured out a way to describe a magical signature.

“It’s like looking at the Earth from orbit. You can -”

“Looking at the Earth from where?” Ginny asked in confusion.

“Orbit. You know, flying around the Earth in space!” Harry made a circling motion about his fist.

“Are you trying to prank me, Harry?” she asked, nettled. “I don’t think now is the time for a trick like this.”

“No, honest, Ginny.” Harry sounded bewildered. “The Muggles have been flying in space for, I don’t know, thirty years I guess. They’ve landed on the moon and wandered about, and sent probes as far as the planet Neptune and brought back pictures.”

Ginny sat back in her chair unsure what to say. She wondered if her dad knew this. “Thirty years?” she asked tentatively. “And they’ve pictures of all these places and the Earth. Muggles have been… they’ve walked on the moon?”

Harry nodded vigorously. “I’ll have Sirius get some space picture books for you to look at. I’m not sure when we’ll have them, but I’ll get them, okay? This isn’t a prank.”

Ginny still eyed Harry dubiously.

“Do you have any Muggle friends in your House? Ask them! They’ll tell you. They might even have some books with pictures in them.”

Ginny immediately thought of Vivien and Hermione, and… Oh, God. She began to feel sick again. Colin! She waved off Harry’s concerned look and concentrated on thinking about the two girls. Vivien would be able to confirm that Muggles go into space, but if anyone had a book with pictures it would be Hermione.

Ginny realised Harry was still talking and stopped her brooding. “The pictures that look down at Earth are very clear, but you can see the glow of the atmosphere off to the sides. It’s like that. Looking right at you, or uh… any magical object, it’s fine, not the least bit hazy. Around your sides is where the signature becomes noticeable. Once you see pictures from space, you’ll understand,” Harry told her.

There was a whoosh sound from the lounge, and then Ginny heard Professor Dumbledore’s voice. He had returned to take her to his office. “Miss Weasley, it is past time for your detention with me to end. If I continue to keep you late I just might gain a reputation to rival Professor Snape’s.” The Headmaster smiled, but Ginny did not find that humorous at all.

“Professor McGonagall has arranged for a prefect to escort you back to the Gryffindor tower. She will be waiting for you outside my office.”

Ginny turned to Harry. “I guess this is it for today.” Despite the horrible truth of who was possessing her, Harry’s faith and assurances that she had not changed gave her something to cling to; she found herself unexpectedly afraid to leave. What would happen when she was away from Harry? She would not be able to talk to him for several days. Who would reassure her when doubts threatened to overwhelm her?

“I guess,” he answered. “Are you going to be all right?”

Ginny shook her head slightly. “I don’t know,” she replied weakly. Acting on impulse she gripped Harry’s arm. “Harry, please look me in the eye and tell me I’m not Dark,” she desperately pleaded.

His green eyes stared into hers with a confidence that took her breath away. “Ginny, you are not Dark,” he told her with that confident, soothing voice. “You’re shiny, and bright, and gold. Never, ever doubt that, all right?”

Ginny gave a relieved sigh. “Thank you. You don’t know how important it is for me to hear you say that. I’ll keep those words in my head until I see you again.” Gathering all her courage she gave Harry a brief hug.

As she mixed a pin prick of blood with some Floo powder, Harry called out, “Next time I’ll have Remus start telling you about his Theory of Magic. Maybe you can begin to learn some of that!”

Ginny smiled haltingly before throwing the powder and swirling her way to the Headmaster’s office. Professor Dumbledore followed her and with the barest flick of his wand removed all trace of soot from her robes. Quickly bidding him goodnight, she descended the steps and found Sophie waiting for her in the hallway.

“I hope you weren’t waiting long,” Ginny said apologetically.

The seventh-year waved her off. “I just arrived myself, not two seconds before that gargoyle jumped aside. That was a long detention! What were you doing in there for all this time?”

“Well… ah… Professor Dumbledore taught me a bit about You-Know-Who and what he had done to some people. It’s frightening.” Ginny shivered as a cold wave passed through her. I’m not Dark, I’m not Dark, she repeated fervently.

Sophie voice turned serious. “I was pretty young, but I remember some of it. We were constantly scared, and my parents had us always carry a Portkey to an uncle’s house, just in case. I continued to sleep under my bed for a year after The Boy Who Lived did away with that monster.” Sophie gave her a kind smile. “Don’t worry, he’s gone. He’ll never harm anyone again!”

Ginny shook her head and fought the growing tightness in her throat and chest. She barely listened as the prefect told her Professor Dumbledore had announced at dinner that the Mandrakes were maturing on schedule and the petrified students and Sir Nicholas might be back to normal by end of term. As Sophie continued on about the events of the day in the common room, Ginny did her best to hold back the tears. She was not sure if she wanted to cry for herself or for Sophie. Maybe for both of us, she finally decided.

None of her brothers were in the common room that evening, and she was grateful for Sophie’s company all the way to her dorm room.

Once inside she saw Vivien on her bed, working on some homework. Shaking off her melancholy, Ginny went to ask her the question about pictures of Earth. Had Harry really told the truth?

Vivien looked up and smiled when Ginny entered the room. “You’re back at last. That must have been awful,” she added sympathetically. “What could he do to keep you for so long?”

“History lessons, mostly. But Professor Dumbledore told me the oddest thing. Do Muggles really go into space and orbit the Earth?” Vivien gave her a strange look, and Ginny felt her cheeks warm from embarrassment. After all that, Harry had taken the mickey out of her!

“You don’t know?” Vivien asked incredulously. “The Americans are always sending their space shuttle into orbit, and the Russians have a whole space station up there. That’s one of the things I find so odd about the Wizarding world. It’s like we Muggles have advanced far beyond anything Wizards can imagine.”

“Oh, Merlin, not that codswallop about how wonderful the Muggle world is,” raven-Kate sneered as she walked out of the bathroom. She called back through the open doorway. “Kate? I owe you a sickle, she’s carrying tales again.”

“Honestly, between pauper Weasley and idiot Cooper it’s a wonder we haven’t lost more points for Gryffindor,” brunette-Kate yammered as she entered the sleeping quarters.

Raven-haired Kate continued, “Muggles in space? They can’t possibly go there. Their airplanes need air to fly and we all need air to breathe. So tell me, Vivien, how do these Muggles breathe when there is no air? Or didn’t you know that air doesn’t go all the way up? Take your stupid tales elsewhere, the both of you.” With the other Kate, she left for the common room laughing about the gullible pauper and the blithering idiot.

“I’m sorry I brought that on you,” Ginny apologised.

Vivien gave her an indecipherable look. “I don’t know how you put up with them picking on you all year,” she said in commiseration. “They discovered that you aren’t around much, since you’ve been in detention or studying, and decided I’m their new target of scorn.” The girl shook her head and muttered resentfully, “Pure-blood bints.”

Ginny took a long, hot shower before preparing for bed. The water’s warmth helped to wash more numbing cold from her bones. I’m not Dark, she repeated as a mantra in her mind. Remembering the sincerity and confidence in Harry’s sparkling green eyes strengthened her conviction. Climbing onto her bed she drew the curtains, removed the key from around her neck, and studied it intensely. She watched it catch and reflect the candle light. Is this what I look like to Harry, warm and golden? Ginny could not help but snort. Only in your wildest dreams, Weasley!

Ginny reached beneath her pillow and pulled out her Helga diary. She opened it to the last page, where Harry’s letter lay folded safely away. She looked at the letter and laid her key upon it. To her they represented all that was good in the world. Ginny thought about Sophie’s innocent comment about You-Know-Who being gone and the surprising nastiness between her other three roommates.

Is this how it starts? Ginny worried, feeling the cold return to her bones. An evil that no one knows exists slowly poisoning all around it? Ginny knew she had brought this evil into the school. Yes, she had been tricked and done it unknowingly, but she felt a weighty responsibility nonetheless.

It was really disheartening that she could not talk to Harry. If ever there was a time where she needed a close friend to talk things out with, it was now. I’m not Dark, she repeated in her mind again. To keep the cold at bay she thought about the honesty she had seen in Harry’s brilliant green eyes. He was so sure and calm about it all. Ginny could not think of another person with whom she could share her fears and hopes. After a moment’s reflection, however, she remembered someone who might help.

Opening her diary Ginny began to write –

20 February 1993
The Diary of Ginny Weasley
Dear Helga, I became so scared and lost today! I can’t reach my closest friend for help and really need some advice…

A/N: Sirius’ potions business partner, the scoundrel Michael DuSult, appears through the kind courtesy of St. Margarets.

Some Egyptologists have postulated that ancient Egyptian and Proto-Bantu languages shared a common root. The modern Kiswahili-Bantu word meaning “come to an end, finish, cease” is Koma.