MetaFic

Albus Dumbledore sat in the cold kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place and waited for the others to arrive. The great man removed his half-moon glasses and rubbed his weary eyes. He was getting too old for this, far too old. He only wanted to spend his last few years running the school he loved so much and passing on what knowledge he could to his last, perhaps best, protégé.

Assuming, of course, his protégé would even speak to him again.

Dumbledore feared the damage to his and Harry Potter's relationship might prove too great to overcome. Albus knew that Harry felt betrayed by the adults in his life; adults who were suppose to guard and guide him. Instead, he, Albus Dumbledore, had failed Harry in his time of greatest need. He had withheld information from Harry that could have changed the decisions the young man made, decisions that had cost Harry his godfather. He had trusted Severus Snape to put aside his anger and resentment of a man long dead and teach Harry the tools needed to close his mind to Tom Riddle. And now he had sent Harry back to the loveless home of his childhood, the home of Vernon and Petunia Dursley. Albus Dumbledore's greatest fear was that, though Harry knew the why of his need to return to his aunt and uncles home, the time Harry was forced to spend there would drive the wedge between them deeper than ever.

Dumbledore sighed. He hoped the warning given to the Dursley's about Harry's treatment would buy Harry some peace. He hoped that Harry continued to prove as resilient now as he had in the past. He hoped that Harry would one day find it in his heart to forgive an old man. An old man so burdened by responsibilities that he lost sight of the trees from gazing overlong at the forest.

He took out his watch and studied the hands as they moved over the face in odd and interesting ways. The others would be arriving at any minute, and it would not be a minute too soon. Time was definitely not on their side anymore.

At the sound of the front door opening, Dumbledore hid his weariness and put on the face of the jovial old Headmaster, with a ready twinkle in the eye and a bit of wisdom to dispense.

The shrieking of Mrs. Black's portrait pierced the quiet of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. Before he could move from his chair to assist in quieting the portrait, he heard a voice he recognized as Miss Granger hiss out an incantation that a student of her level most certainly should not have known. There was a ripping sound, followed by a sudden silence. Finally the low sobs of Miss Granger reached his ears. A voice he recognized as Ronald Weasley spoke low and soothingly to the young woman and the two moved off to the stairs. He allowed himself a small smile, secure in the knowledge that there would be no letter from Mafalda Hopkirk for underage magic use. One of the first things he had done after the battle in the Ministry was secure the students the right to use magic without harassment during this time of trouble.

He heard movement outside the kitchen door and calmly looked up as it opened.

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore! You startled me. I didn't know you'd arrived yet," Molly Weasley exclaimed.

"I'm sorry to have frightened you, Molly. Please forgive my terrible lack of manners." He smiled over his glasses at her. "I should have warned you beforehand I would be arriving early."

Molly Weasley overcame her shock and bustled into the kitchen, intent on preparing tea and refreshments for the other members of the Order of the Phoenix before they arrived. The kitchen was a mess and the hearth was cold. Mrs. Weasley pulled out her wand and started preparing for their arrival.

"Ginny dear, if you would--" Molly Weasley turned to start giving her only daughter directions, and then stopped in mid-breath at the sight before her. "Ginevra Weasley! What do you think you're doing?"

Ginny Weasley stood across the room from Albus Dumbledore, her wand pointed steadily at the Headmaster, her eyes cold and emotionless. "What where the words you said at the opening feast my first year?"

Dumbledore calmly gazed back at her. He knew he was not an imposter, so he knew he had nothing to fear. "Splatz, Gorberts, Pickeral, Twizzlers," he replied.

With a nod Ginny put away her wand. "Good enough for me," she said.

Molly Weasley opened her mouth to reprimand her daughter when a gravelly voice spoke from the doorway. "Good job, Miss Weasley: a fine example of constant vigilance. You've got good instincts, kid." Alastor Moody stumped into the room, followed by Mundungus Fletcher

"She had no business drawing her wand on the Headmaster," Mrs. Weasley fumed.

"Actually, Molly," Dumbledore gently said, "your daughter has reminded us that nothing should be taken for granted in these dangerous times."

Mrs. Weasley seemed unmollified as she started making tea and setting out other refreshments. Sensing her mother's continual disapproval, Ginny quietly moved to assist in the preparations.

"Who pulled a wand on Dumbledore?" Remus Lupin stepped into the kitchen, followed closely by Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Hestia Jones.

"Miss Weasley," Moody chuckled as Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall entered the room. "Had him dead to rights on the wrong end of her wand before anyone could say anything. I've seen seasoned Auror's who didn't react that quickly."

"I wish you would all stop encouraging my daughter's reckless behavior," Molly Weasley hissed. "And I'd thank you not to sign her up to spend her life pursuing dark wizards. There are plenty of other worthwhile professions she could follow."

"Who's pursuing dark wizards?" Bill Weasley asked, entering the room with his father and brother Charlie.

"Apparently Ginny," Lupin supplied.

"Again?" Bill asked innocently.

"She didn't trust that Dumbledore was who he was supposed to be. She had a hex on the tip of her tongue," Moody nodded sagely

Ginny quietly set the tea service on the table and walked around, pouring everyone a cup. She passed a tray of biscuits and tried to ignore the tension radiating off her mother.

"Stupefy," Ginny said softly, pouring her father tea. "If he hadn't known the answers, I would hit him a stunner and ran for help while mom and Professor Moody dealt with him."

"Good instincts," Shacklebolt echoed Moody's earlier sentiments. "She'd make a fine Auror someday."

"Stop it!" Molly Weasley shrieked, "Don't you understand how close they all came to dying! I won't have you lot encouraging my children to go out fighting dark wizards. They could have all died," she finished in a near whisper, tears starting down her cheeks.

"I think I'll just go now," Ginny said to no one specific.

"I think it would be best," her father agreed. Arthur Weasley moved to comfort his wife as his daughter walked out of the kitchen and closed the door behind her.

Ginny walked a few steps away from the door then turned and crouched behind a large potted tree that seemed to droop in exhaustion. She looked over her shoulder to make sure she was not being watched. She didn't want Ron or Hermione coming up behind her and catching her at eavesdropping. Hermione would admonish her for spying on the Order, and Ron would be mad that she had not invited him to participate in her illicit activity. She looked around once more to be sure. Grimmauld Place always gave her the creeps, and she felt like her nerves were on a hair-trigger as it stood. The last thing she needed was a letter from Mafalda Hopkirk because she hexed a potted plant or a wisp of smoke.

She pulled an extendable ear from her pocket; one of the many things Fred and George had slipped her at King's Cross Station while everyone was worrying over Harry. She eased it toward the door and smiled when she found no one had remembered to put an imperturbable charm on the door.

"–needs to be with the people who care about him, not those horrid Muggles," her mother's stern voice came to Ginny's ear through the thin material.

Snape's oily, silken voice spoke next. "Perhaps some true discipline would do Potter good. A firm application of the cane might beat some of the arrogance and recklessness out of the boy."

Ginny heard a chair scrap against the floor, followed by several gasps and the dangerously cold voice of Remus Lupin. "When your use as spy is finished Severus, I will come and extract all the abuse you've heaped on Harry from your worthless hide."

"I suggest you put away that wand and stop your silly posturing, unless you – urk!" Snape's voice suddenly sounded as if someone was choking him.

"Remus!" Tonks' voice cried out.

"Stop this bickering!" Dumbledore thundered. "We haven't the time to fight amongst ourselves. Now, I realize that Mr. Potter's situation is difficult, but there are reasons he must stay at the Dursleys. He must be protected over the summer at all cost."

Lupin's voice addressed Dumbledore, "His godfather died before his eyes and you think it best to send him into exile with those hateful muggles?"

"Albus," Professor McGonagall said reasonably, "have you consider the emotional toll this will all take on Potter?"

"I'm sorry, but this is final, Minerva," Dumbledore said in a weary voice. "Harry must stay at the Dursleys for his own safety."

Several moments of silence passed before anyone spoke again. Finally Bill cleared his throat and began a new topic in a nervous voice. "We still don't know where the Goblins will–"

Ginny Weasley dropped the extendable ear in shock. She could not believe that her family would stop fighting for Harry so quickly. She steeled herself. If no one else would say what needed to be said to the Headmaster, she would. She stood and marched toward the kitchen doors, a determined look on her face.

All eyes turned to the door as Ginevra Weasley, hair a wild mane around her head and eyes flashing dangerously, strode straight up to the old Headmaster.

"Ginny what do you–" she heard her mother start to chastise her, then saw her father put his hand on her mother's arm, motioning her to be quiet.

"How can you? How can you sit there and say the best thing for Harry is to be locked away with people who hate him?"

"Miss Weasley, please try to understand that everything I've done was in Harry's best interest. There are important issues involved–"

Ginny drew her wand with cat-like quickness. Everyone in the room was caught by surprise, and each reached belatedly for his or her own wand. Albus Dumbledore stopped speaking as, for the second time in the last hour, he found himself on the wrong end of Ginny Weasley's wand.

"Do you remember? Do you remember that night in my first year?" Ginny Weasley hissed, her eyes dilated so that the usually warm chocolate brown was hidden by the darkness of her pupils.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, remembering it all too clearly. It was one of the worst nights of Dumbledore's long life, realizing how terribly he had failed this young woman all during her first year.

"Do you remember what you said to me? When you found me standing on the edge of the astronomy tower ready to jump? Do you remember what you said to me?" Ginny growled out as she struggled to hold back tears at the memory of the night she had nearly taken her own life. She heard startled gasps from her mother and Tonks.

"I told you that though terrible things had happened to you, you would, in time, heal. I told you that if you jumped, then Tom would have his final victory against you, and the world would be diminished by it. I told you," Dumbledore swallowed, understanding the young woman's point, "that the best way to heal is to surround yourself with those you love and let them love you. That the love of your friends and family would eventually drive away the darkness."

"Did you lie to me?" Ginny let the tears fall, but held her wand steady. In the kitchen several of the items had begun to shake and float, including heavy pots and sharp knives. The others in the room looked around nervously.

"No, I did not lie to you that night."

"Then you know you can't leave Harry alone with the Dursley's. It will kill him after all that's happened."

"No, I suppose I cannot allow Harry to be left to the tender cares of the Dursley family. Thank you for reminding an old man that sometimes the larger picture must give way to the needs of individuals."

Ginny Weasley sighed and sagged, lowering her wand and allowing the tears to come full force. Dumbledore conjured a chair behind her, which she gratefully plopped into.

Molly Weasley moved to embrace her daughter, who was now shaking and sobbing from her emotional display. "Come on dear," the Weasley matriarch said soothingly. "Let's get you to your room."

"Molly," Dumbledore spoke softly. "We'll need to question the children further about the fight in the Ministry."

"I understand that Albus," Mrs. Weasley was calm while caring for her daughter. "But I think it best to wait a day or two more."

Dumbledore nodded, and Molly Weasley led her youngest child from the kitchen and toward the stairs. Dumbledore could hear them speaking in low voices, hopefully about to engage in an overdue and badly needed mother and daughter discussion.

"So what's the plan Professor? How do we keep Harry sane and healthy while keeping him safe at the Dursley's?" Tonks asked bluntly.

"Harry needs companionship," Dumbledore said. "Those of us who are his friends will need to visit him on a regular basis."

"We need someone watching him at all times. And I mean being with him, not hiding in a bush under a cloak," Lupin added.

"The Dursleys will never let anyone stay there with Harry," Mr. Weasley pointed out.

"And we don't have the people to go around anyway," Moody added. "We're already stretched thin as it stands."

"Perhaps there is a solution." Dumbledore turned to McGonagall. "Is my suspicion about Miss Weasley correct?"

"Yes, and her little display just now proved it out, I believe." McGonagall said.

Bill Weasley looked from McGonagall to Dumbledore. While he trusted his old professors, he wasn't sure if getting Ginny more deeply involved in the drama and trauma that was Harry Potter's life was a wise idea. "Will one of you two tell the rest of us what's going on?"

Dumbledore smiled at Bill. "Once your mother returns everything will be revealed. But be aware that your sister's abilities may prove key in keeping Harry sane and protected."

Bill was torn between relief that they could help Harry and fear for his sister. He looked at his father, who could only shrug.

"Now," said Dumbledore, "while we wait, who would like more tea?"