How Will You Kiss

By: Nia River

COMPLETE. Casting off his haze of grief over his godfather's demise, Harry Potter
decides it's time to take action. He won't be alone; Mad-Eye Moody, Emmeline Vance,
Tonks and Bill Weasley will be there to help. Not to mention the entire DA.
Harry/Bill.

Status: complete

Published: 2009-11-09

Updated: 2010-02-28

Words: 44665

Chapters: 11

Rated: Fiction T - Language: English - Genre: Romance/Drama - Characters: [Harry

P., Bill W.] - Reviews: 458 - Favs: 2,666 - Follows: 800

Original source: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5498452/1/How-Will-You-Kiss

Exported with the assistance of FicHub.net

How Will You Kiss

• Introduction
• Initiative
• Teachers
• Training
• Loyalties
• Whelmed
• Progress
• Realising
• Passions
• Culminate
• Aftermath
• Epilogue

Initiative

Posted : 9 November, 2009

Disclaimer : I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the
Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original
characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright
infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any
way.

Author's Notes : This story stemmed for a self-challenge: I wanted to see if I

could write a romance fic. I've never written much in the romance genre before, so
I was and still am worried that it will just come off sounding awkward and
contrived, but… well I gave it a go, and this is it. Good, decent, crap? Let me
know what you think.

Oh, and the title? I figured since I was giving this romance thing a go, borrowing
the title from some love poetry was not out of order. It's a poem by Judith Pordon
which I quite like, even if it has no particular relevance to the story but for the
romance thing. Please forgive my lack of creativity and originality.

Chapter 1 - Initiative

Wednesday, July 31, 1996

From the moment he left Kings Cross with his family, a haze of grief had descended
upon Harry once more. This time, it was not one of anger at the fates, nor
desperation to see his godfather again. No, this time it was a cold and brittle
numbness. There was a hollow ache inside him now, whenever he thought of Sirius,
and the world felt dull and grey.

The only relief Harry felt from his state of apathy was when he would find himself
suddenly sobbing into his pillow, face pressed in tightly so that nobody could
hear. Sometimes, when he could cry no more, his tears continued still. Slow and
silent, they traced down an expression unmoved.

It was more than a month later when Harry finally began to emerge from his
depression. He had spent the thirty-first of July (his birthday), ignoring the
gifts received by owl, and instead dwelling in the knowledge that there was one
person he would never receive a gift from again.

As evening fell however, and he stared out his window at the night sky thinking on
the better times with Sirius, he spotted his reflection in the glass and gave a
start. He was smiling. True, it was a small smile, all tentative and fragile edges.
But, it was a smile nonetheless.

His emotions began doing a rollercoaster. Guilt at smiling, happiness that he

could, anger that he was happy… For a teenager who had spent so many weeks now
feeling little more than nothingness and grief, the sudden flood of returning
emotions was overwhelming.

Through his turmoil, he had staggered over to his bed and collapsed there, sitting
on the edge and burying his face into the palms of his hands. Taking deep breaths
to get a hold of himself he looked about, as if for the first time that summer, and
was less than pleased by what he saw.

His room was a mess. Everything lay where it had been left when he arrived. And,
with the exceptions of his trunk (which was opened and closed when retrieving
clothing from within, whenever Aunt Petunia forced him to shower and change), his
bed (where he had spent most of his time laying listlessly), and the bright
presents on his dresser (which were newly arrived) everything had a fine layer of
dust over it. Had he really been such a zombie for the past weeks?

The answer was of course obvious. Yes, he had. And he felt guilty again. Not this
time for smiling, but rather for wasting so much time. If the events at end of term
should have taught him anything, it was that he was unprepared. And with the
prophecy stating that everyone was depending on him, unprepared was something he
couldn't afford to be. He needed to pull himself together.

Determination filling him, he stood abruptly. Resolve etched into his features, he
pondered what to do first. The answer came to him in a most unpleasant manner. The
combination of his new self awareness, and recent abrupt movements, brought to his
notice the fact that both the room and he himself smelled absolutely foul. He tried
to think back to his last shower he'd taken. It was a while ago, so he suspected
his aunt had simply grown tired of bothering with him.

Wrinkling his nose he grabbed some clothes from his trunk. Then, after pushing open
his window and leaving his door wide so that air could circulate, he headed for the
bathroom. There, he spent a good forty minutes scrubbing his self clean, washing
his hair, and brushing his teeth. Dressed in clean clothes, he then marched
downstairs to the living room where his family was eating dinner.

The squeaks of surprise and strange expressions ranging from shock to nervousness
were rather amusing. The first was easily explainable, since this was the first
time he had emerged willingly from his room since arriving. The nervousness though
took him a moment to explain. Then he remembered the rather dramatic send-off the
Order members had given him at Kings Cross, and the intimidating warnings they had
issued with regard to his treatment. He stifled a smile at the memory.

"Hello," he greeted neutrally.

His long unused voice came out scratchy and hoarse. He stepped out to the kitchen,
poured himself a glass of water at the sink. Returning to the living room, he took
a sip and cleared his throat before trying again.

"Hello," he said, more clearly this time. "I was hoping to get some dinner."

Dudley stared at him nervously, Vernon looked suspicious and Petunia pursed her
lips.

"There's a tray on the bench in the kitchen. I was going to bring it up to you
after, like I have been all summer," his aunt informed him stiffly. " Not, that you
have shown any appreciation for that. You've barely been touching any of the food I
bring you."

Harry stared at her in for a moment. Was that concern he could hear in her voice?
No, surely not. Dismissing the thought as ridiculous, he nodded and left for the
kitchen. There, he fetched his tray from the counter and headed upstairs. Entering
his room he took a deep breath. It was a bit dusty still, but the stale scent that
had permeated the air earlier had blessedly faded.

Sitting at his desk, he took a bite of his dinner - a generous serving of roast
chicken and vegetables. The moment the food touched his tongue he realised he was
ravenous. Very quickly the entire meal was gone, along with the glass of water. He
popped back downstairs requesting more, and after giving him an assessing look Aunt
Petunia filled his tray back up.

Back in his room, slowly working his way through his second meal, Harry took the
opportunity to finally open the gifts that had arrived just after midnight that
morning.

From Ron he had received a box of Honeydukes chocolates, and from Hermione, a heavy
book entitled Everything You Need To Know About The NEWTs . Hagrid had sent him a
card, and a tin of toffees. Mrs Weasley had, unsurprisingly, also sent food; a jar
of chocolate chip biscuits. The twins - according to their card - had sent a
selection of items from their joke shop with stern instructions to have fun and
cause chaos.

Next up, there were gifts from Ginny, Neville and Luna. A book on defence; a
seedpod for a plant that, when mature and prompted to grown around a doorframe,
could paralyse home invaders; and an empty box which apparently contained a
Snormiggler (an invisible creature which ate sadness), were received from each of
the three respectively. Additionally, several of the other DA members had sent him
cards or short letters wishing him a happy day.

Finished with the presents, he next moved on to the small mountain of letters he
had received but never read. He opened one with bright green lettering first. It
turned out to be from Dumbledore.

Harry,

I fear I write with unpleasant news. Due to the state of the world at present, I
believe it would be best that you remain safely at Privet Drive for the remainder
of your holidays.

Please do not, however, think that I have been deaf to your discontent at being
'locked up' at the Dursley home. In exchange for your prolonged stay, I have been
able to adjust the wards to extend much further than simply the house. Most of your
local neighbourhood, including the park is now secure, so feel free to wander.

Also, should you but request it, I would be more than willing to speak to Mrs
Weasley to arrange for your friends to visit you sometimes. Perhaps even often. I
am sure they would be amenable.

As I had promised, I will no longer be keeping secrets from you. Along that vein,
I will freely say that you have one Order member guarding you at all times. Also,
they have been asked to answer any questions you pose about the war effort freely
and honestly, since I cannot in good conscience risk writing all such information
in a letter.

Lastly, I give you my deepest sympathies once again for the loss of your
godfather. I am sure you care not to hear this just now, but when you are ready his
affairs must be seen to. I believe that you are the primary beneficiary of his
will.

If you would prefer, I can attend the reading in your stead and inform you of the
details at a later date. Please let me know your preference.

Your most humble servant,

Albus Dumbledore

Setting the letter aside slowly, he considered the contents. He was a little
annoyed that he had to stay here all break, but understood Dumbledore's reasoning.
Additionally, the extension of the ward lines and the offers of visitors were
wonderful compensation (though honestly, he wasn't in any state to enjoy taking
advantage the latter at this time). He was very grateful too that the headmaster
was keeping to his promise of no secrets as best as he could.

Then there was the subject of the will reading. He didn't want Sirius's money, but
perhaps there might be other trinkets and mementos of his godfather's that he might
like to have. Tears prickling his eyes, he turned to the rest of the
correspondences.

There were several letters from Ron and Hermione, both of whom were staying at the
Burrow. These letters grew increasingly worried as time had passed without
response. Another one, from Ginny, expressed that he had better start replying to
his best friends soon, because if he didn't put an end to their annoying worrying
he was risking a Bat-Bogey Hex.
A rather surprising invitation from Neville was unearthed from the pile next. It
asked whether he would care to spend some time at the Longbottom home during the
holidays. And finally, there was an oddly disjointed letter from Luna who was in
Sweden with her father. They had yet to locate the Crumple Horned Snorkack, but
remained hopeful. He smiled at this last letter, before fetching ink and parchment
from his trunk to write some hopefully reassuring responses.

Ron,

Sorry, for not writing sooner. I've been in a bit of a state. Don't worry though,
I'm feeling better now - or at least a well as can be expected.

Thanks for the chocolates, I'm sure I'll enjoy them. Also, can you say thank you
to you mum from me for the biscuits.

Did you see what Hermione got me? A hugely thick book about NEWTs. Can you believe
she's worrying about them already? But that's Hermione for you.

From,

Harry

Hermione,

I assure you that I'm not in trouble, so please stop worrying. I'm sorry for not
replying but I've not felt up to it till now.

Thank you for the book. It looks very useful, though I expect by the time I manage
to read it all, NEWTs will have come and gone. I'm joking! Seriously though, it
looks very… detailed.

If I don't write to you after this, please don't start worrying again. I have it
on good authority that a certain someone will be Bat-Bogey Hexing me if you do.

From,

Harry

Ginny,

I've replied, I've replied! That means there's no need to resort to painful and
unpleasant curses.

I received your gift. It looks very interesting, and I'm sure I'll get plenty of
use from it. Thank you.

From,

Harry

Neville,

I'm sorry I didn't reply sooner. With everything that happened, and losing Sirius,
I've not been up to doing much of anything.

Thank you for the invitation to stay at your house over the holidays. If
Dumbledore hadn't decided I should stay here behind the wards all summer I would
definitely agreed. As it is though, I won't even be spending time at Ron's house
this break.
 Thanks as well for the gift. You'll have to give me some pointers about how to
grow this plant when I see you next. It sounds rather interesting.

From,

Harry

Luna,

Thank you for the birthday present. I couldn't actually see it (unsurprisingly
since you said it's invisible), but since receiving it this morning I have been
feeling a lot better. I think it might have actually worked.

I'm sorry you haven't found your Crumple Horned Snorkack yet, and hope you do
soon.

From,

Harry

P.S. In response to your questions, my favourite socks are dark blue, and no I
have never felt the need to brew an earwax soup. Now, why exactly did you need to
know that?

Fred and George,

I've received your gift, but to be frank am a bit afraid to open it just yet.
Think I'll wait till I'm back at Hogwarts. At least then Madam Pomfrey will be on
hand to reverse any pranks you might have set on the box.

I'll try my best to put the contents to use. I'm sure Ron and I could have some
fun with it, so long as Hermione doesn't find out. She's a bit scary when she gets
mad.

From,

Harry

Hagrid,

Thanks for the toffees. I've not had a chance to try any yet but I'm sure they'll
be great.

I hope you and Grawp are doing well.

From,

Harry

Sealing each of the letters in an individual envelope, he gave Hedwig instructions

and then sent her on her way. The owl gave an approving hoot and took off, seeming
glad that he was doing better and also appreciative of something to do.

Forking the last of the peas off his plate, Harry then pushed his chair back and
got to his feet. He had something else important to do tonight. Heading downstairs
he passed the living room, ignoring the glances from the Dursley who were now
watching television, and headed for the front door. Stepping outside, he shut it
behind him and looked about.
"Hello?" he called quietly, wandering down towards the sidewal. "I'd like to speak
to my Order guard."

A tug on his sleeve from an invisible hand led him around the side of the house
where they wouldn't be seen or overheard. Then, with a swishing of material, an
invisibility cloak was pushed aside to reveal a redheaded man with a fang earring
and long hair, worn in a ponytail.

"Hi Bill," he greeted the man, who looked as cool as ever.

"Hello Harry. How've you been?"

Judging by the concerned look in the man's eye, he suspected his efforts to keep
his grief private had failed. He wondered if the entire Order knew that he'd been a
wreck all holidays, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Good," he said but received a sceptical look in return, and so admitted, "Well,
not good. But I'm feeling a lot better now."

"You look it." The redhead nodded, scanning him assessing. "But I hope for your
sake you put some weight on before my mother sees you next. She'll see you're too
skinny."

Harry winced. He knew he he'd not been eating well but hadn't realised it was
physically obvious. He could already imagine the suffocating fussing Mrs Weasley
would subject him too if she saw him looking 'underfed'. He loved her and all, but
Ron's mum was a bit much sometimes.

"Yeah," he hastily agreed. "I'll have to do something about that."

"Good. Now, what did you want to speak to me about? Your guards are under orders
from Dumbledore himself that we tell you everything you want to know." Bill gave
him a curious look. "Impressive that. How did you manage it?"

Harry's expression darkened. "Let's just say that if he had told me what and where
you were all guarding last year, things at the end of term might have gone
differently."

Wisely, Bill simply nodded. The younger man bit his lip and took a deep breath. He
was here to get something done, not to sink back into depression.

"I need you to take a message to Dumbledore for me."

"Too important to risk with owl mail?" Bill asked and he nodded. "What do you need
me to tell him then?"

"Can you tell him I want training?"

"Training?" the Weasley son asked, raising an eyebrow. "What for? And what in
specifically?"

"I don't know," he answered only the second question, brow furrowing. "Duelling,
defence… anything that might be helpful."

"Helpful with…?" Bill fished, but Harry shook his head.

"He'll know what I mean. Just, tell him it's important. And that I want to start
within a week. And if he can't help me…" His expression darkened at the though that
Dumbledore might continue to hold him back, but then cleared as he assured himself
things had changed. "Well, I'll find training from someone else, regardless of the
risk. But I don't think that'll be a problem."

"Right…" the elder man trailed off.

Before more could be said between them, a popping sound was heard out on the
street. Stepping defensively in front of Harry, who threw him an annoyed glance at
the action, Bill raised his wand and cast as spell. The sound of an owl hooting a
pattern - three times, then twice, then three times again - sounded out. There was
a pause before another series of hoots - again, three times, twice, then three
times - sounded out from where the Apparition noise had originated. Bill relaxed.

"It's Diggle. He's on guard duty starting now, which mean's I'm off."

"Right," said Harry, dragging his attention way from the seemingly empty street,
and thinking to ask, "Hey, before you go, how'd the both of you manage to have
invisibility cloaks anyway? I thought they were really rare."

"Oh, they are. But the Order has managed to get hold of a few. Moody probably owns
more than the whole Order combined but he's a bit paranoid about lending more than
one or two out at a time."

"Oh."

The redhead held a hand out, and the brunette reciprocated.

"I've got to go, but I'll get your message to Dumbledore right away," he said,
shaking the teen's hand. "Nice seeing you again."

"Yeah, you too," Harry nodded, then something occurred to him. "Oh, and could you
also tell Dumbledore for me that I'd like to take him up on the offer to look after
S-sirius," his voice wavered, but he continued, "Sirius's affairs."

"Sure." Bill nodded.

His hand was released. Then Bill then re-donned his invisibility cloak and, with a
'pop', Disapparated away.

Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).

Teachers

Posted : 14 November, 2009

Disclaimer : I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the
Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original
characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright
infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any
way.

Chapter 2 - Teachers

Wednesday, July 31, 1996

Appearing with a 'pop' on the sidewalk of a rundown neighbourhood, Bill Weasley

focussed on the space between houses number eleven and thirteen, and watched as
number twelve Grimmauld Place appeared as if from nowhere. Stepping up to the door,
the tapped it with his wand. The clattering of locks disengaging sounded loudly,
before the door creaked open. He entered the house and relocked the entrance behind
him.

Removing his invisibility cloak, the redhead strode quietly down the long entry
hall, approaching a door near the far end. Raising a tentative hand toward the door
he watched it hit an invisible barrier before making contact. As expected, there
was an Imperturbable Charm on the door. And, if the conspicuous absence of his
younger siblings attempting to listen in was any clue, they had figured that out
too.

He stepped back and raised his wand.

"Finite Incantatem."

Charm successfully dispelled, he turned the handle, opening the door to a set of
narrow stone stairs. Closing it behind him he recast the charm and descended to the
kitchen.

Reaching the room, he found Mad-Eye Moody staring at him. No doubt the wizard had
been following his progress since the moment he Apparated onto the doorstep. He
nodded respectfully to retired Auror and received a brief nod in response before
the man turned his attention elsewhere.

The rest of the room was filled with numerous witches and wizards of various ages
and appearances. The meeting had apparently already started, as at the moment
Professor Snape was making his report to the Order.

"Bill. Sit down, sit down," his mum ordered quietly, appearing at his elbow. "Here,
have some stew."

He let her lead him to a seat beside Tonks and fill a bowl with a delicious
smelling concoction, noticing that several others about the table had had his
mother's cooking pressed upon them also.

"Thanks mum," he said and kissed her on the cheek.

She gave him a fond look and shuffled away.

"It's good," Tonks muttered from beside him, swallowing a spoonful from her own
bowl.

"My mother made it," he replied with a slight grin. "Course it's good."

As he dug into his meal, he listened peripherally to Snape's comments that

Voldemort was planning to utilise Mountain Trolls. He had never liked the man and,
as with most of the people in the room, only trusted him because he had
Dumbledore's backing. Still, he couldn't deny the Slytherin usually had the most
interesting, useful and current information on the War front.

As always Snape left once he had made his report and the rest of the group
immediately seemed more cheerful for it. Dumbledore stood up next.

"Before I call up the next speaker," the old man said, "William, do you have
anything to report?"

"Just that Harry was up and about," the curse breaker replied calmly, ignoring the
murmurs from the crowd. "And I have a message for you from him. I reckon it can
wait till after the meeting though. I don't know whether it should be private or
not."

A few Order members objected but Dumbledore hushed them all.

"Very well," the old wizard agreed with a nod.

"How was he though Bill?" his mother blurted out. "You can tell us that at least."

"He's looking a lot better," he replied honestly. "And I'm pretty sure I heard him
asking for seconds for dinner from his Aunt, so he's eating well enough."

It was an unspoken agreement in the Order to portray Harry's situation in the best
possible light when in the presence of Molly Weasley. The first night a guard had
reported overhearing Harry refuse food, and that they thought they'd heard him
crying, she had kicked up a huge fuss, and been near unbearable to live around till
she calmed down.

So, rather than announce their observations during the meetings, the guards instead
reported privately to Dumbledore any worrying behaviour they happened to notice.
Honestly though, they noticed very little. Harry had not been leaving the house or
even, most suspected, his bedroom. And since the Order was not going to stoop to
spying on the grieving teen, information on the young man's state was limited.
Judging by what he had seen earlier that night, Bill suspected Harry had been
eating very little and sleeping fitfully at best.

"That is wonderful to hear," the headmaster replied to his comments, looking

honestly relieved. "And now, onto the next order of business…"

It was a little more than an hour later. The meeting was adjourned and people were
getting up to head home.

"If Alastor, Nymphadora and Emmeline could please remain behind?"

Bill smirked as Tonks, halfway out of her seat, growled in annoyance at the form of
address and glared at the headmaster as she sat back down. For his part, Dumbledore
gave her a mildly surprised look at the vocalisation, then a breezy smile as if he
had no idea why she would be irritated with him.

Eventually the last of the people filed out, his mother being gently nudged along
by his father. No doubt she wanted to stay to hear Harry's message. Bill however
had no intention of mentioning in front of her that Harry wanted training. He could
just imagine the outrage she would express at one of her 'children' being taught to
fight, and her refusal to allow it. She could be very stubborn when she wanted to.

"But Bill is-" Molly was objecting.

"We can talk to him in the morning dear. He'll be here for breakfast. Won't you
son?"

"Sure dad." He nodded, giving his mother a reassuring smile. "I don't start work
till nine."

And then they were gone.

As Moody checked the wards and protections on the door, Dumbledore took a seat at
the head of the table. Emmeline Vance - a stately older woman who worked at St
Mungo's - remained in her seat across from him and Tonks, and Moody - once the
latter was satisfied with the spells - hovered near the foot of the table.
"Well," Dumbledore said, breaking the silence, "you had a message from Harry?"

"I did," he conceded, giving the other three present a pointed glance. "Are you
sure you don't want to hear it alone first, in case you want it kept private?"

"Good lad, thinking of security," Mad-Eye growled. "Trust no one. CONSTANT

VIGILANCE!"

Everyone in the Order was well used to this refrain from the retired Auror by now,
and so none of those present jumped in surprise any longer. Truthfully, they barely
reacted at all.

"It is fine William," the headmaster assured him. "If the message is what I
suspect, then I would be speaking to these three soon enough anyway."

"Okay," he said with a confused frown, before relating the messages as accurately
as he could recall.

Reactions were varying. Dumbledore merely nodded seriously, as if this was what he
expected. Vance remained watchful but outwardly neutral. Tonks expressed that the
request was understandable, given the trouble Harry consistently found himself in.
And Moody began objecting most strenuously to the idea of Harry finding training
elsewhere, 'regardless of the risk'.

"Please Alastor, there is no need to worry. I fully intend to grant this request of
Harry's, so there will be no need for him to take hazardous actions."

"Good," Moody nodded, settling down. "I can see why he needs training, if he's
going to keep ending up in scraps with dark wizards. We're hardly likely to refuse
him though, so there's no reason for him to threaten doing something so stupid and
dangerous."

"And as Bill said, Harry seemed to realise that the threat was unnecessary. And his
instinct to make it in the first place was not without reason," Dumbledore sighed,
looking quite old. "I have made some rather large mistakes with Harry, by holding
things back. It is unsurprising that he considered, however briefly, the
possibility I would refuse his request."

An awkward silence followed with the others shifting uncomfortably, unsure how to
react to their leader's obvious show of regret. Finally, Moody spoke up.

"We're all human. Mistakes are inevitable," the man said gruffly. "The important
thing is to learn from them and strategise better in future."

"This is quite true." The old wizard nodded, straightening and looking brighter.
"Now then, Harry will need trainers. This is where you four come in."

"Four?" Bill asked in confusion.

Moody and Tonks were reasonable, or even the headmaster himself. The first two were
trained Aurors and Dumbledore was… well he was Dumbledore. But the man seemed to be
indicating not only the two Aurors, but also Bill and Vance. What purpose could
they two be in training Harry to fight? He'd done alright in defence at school,
with an EE on his NEWT, but that was nowhere near comparable to Auror training. As
for Emmeline, she was a healer, not a fighter.

"Yes, you four."

The elderly wizard's words were said sagely, but the twinkle in his eye gave away
his amusement at their confusion. Though, not all of them seemed as lost as he was.
Moody was glancing measuring between him and Vance and nodding slowly.

"Boy could do with learning some Medimagic," he said as he looked to Vance. "Field
medicine at the least. I've never had the knack for it myself."

Moody then glanced down at his scarred body with its missing appendages and chunks
of flesh, a rueful look on his face.

"That's why you look like something out of a horror film?" Tonks blurted, then
flushed red as her eyes went wide. "I- I mean. It's just that- well, I always
thought you just had the bad luck for getting hit by the curses that prevent
healing."

Looking cautiously between the current Auror, whose hair now matched her flushed
cheeks, and the retired Auror who was favouring her with a glare, Bill considered
backing away from the line of fire. Fortunately Moody broke the tension by giving a
snort, somewhere between amused and derisive, and deigned to answer her question.

"No lass I'm just crap at them," he admitted. "Best I can manage in an emergency is
a Cauterisation Charm, which of course buggers up any chance of re-growing things."

Indomitable as always, and assured her frankly scary mentor did not take offence,
Tonks was back to her cheerful self.

"Okay, I understand Vance," Bill spoke up, with a nod in the other woman's
direction, "but why me? I'm perfectly willing to help of course, but I don't see
what use I'd be."

"Why my dear boy, I should think it obvious, given your profession," Dumbledore
replied. "You will be training Harry in warding, and any of the more exotic spells
you have picked up in your travels, that you believe he could benefit from knowing.
I need not remind any of you that Harry remains a particular target of Voldemort,"
everyone suppressed winces, "And so he could use every advantage he can get."

"Never underestimate the value of good warding in defence," Moody agreed gruffly.
"It might not be practical during a duel, but if you have time to prepare
beforehand, some of them wards can be lethal."

The freckled man nodded, understanding his purpose. Already his mind was whirring
over which wards to teach Harry - he would start out with the easier ones of course
- and a few obscure spells which he thought could be helpful to the boy hero.

"So, if we are all agreed?" The headmaster paused for them all to nod. "Wonderful.
I believe you are all free on Saturday. So perhaps you should go home, get some
rest, make some preparations over the next couple of days, and meet at Privet Drive
at ten o'clock three days hence."

"You won't be joining us Albus?" Vance asked.

"No, dear Emmeline. I'm afraid I'm rather busy; Cornelius has once more taken to
owling me several times a day." He sighed. "But at least he is at last
acknowledging the threat. No, I am sure you can manage without me. But please, do
send Harry my well wishes. And assure him that I will indeed take care off Sirius's
affairs."

"Course we will Professor," Tonks reassured him.

The meeting broke up after that, all five going their separate ways.

Saturday, August 3, 1996

It had been three days since Harry sent Bill off with his message to Dumbledore.
And two days since the headmaster had written him a letter, promising his request
for training was being arranged, and to expect his teachers to arrive on Saturday
at ten o'clock. Today was that day, and he was currently sitting at his window,
watching the street below and anxiously waiting for sign of his visitors.

At promptly ten on the dot, a chorus of popping sounds echoed not from outside but
rather from behind him. Harry spun around to find four additions to his bedroom,
and his eyes widened in surprise at who had come.

Mad-Eye Moody's false eye was whizzing about suspiciously as the man prodded at
Hedwig's cage with his wand. Tonks was grinning cheerfully, hair shifting to
aquamarine. Bill Weasley was relaxing against his wardrobe, arms crossed loosely
over his chest. And an imposing witch he thought was called Vince, who he
recognised from the Order, was inspecting him critically.

"Wotcher Harry!" the Metamorphmagus chirped. "How you doing?"

"Hi Tonks. I'm alright," he replied. "Hi again Bill. Hello Professor Moody. And
Vince, is it?"

"Vance," corrected the witch, whose brown hair was greying at the temples.
"Emmeline Vance. You may address me as Healer Vance. Dumbledore sends his
greeting."

"Morning Potter. And don't call me professor," the scarred ex-Auror ordered. "You
know better'n most I didn't teach a single class. Just Moody or Mad-Eye'll do."

"Yes sir- I mean Moody."

"You look good Harry," Bill said. "Much better than when I last saw you."

"Thanks," he said awkwardly. "I've been doing better. Got most of my summer
homework done even."

"Well, let's get down to business," Mad-Eye declared.

When it became clear there was not enough seating for everyone present, extra
chairs were conjured. Soon everyone was comfortable, Harry himself perched upon his
bed.

"So you're all here to teach me then?" he asked them all.

"Yep." Tonks nodded. "Mad-Eye and me are gonna train you up in duelling and such.
Emmeline is going to cover field Medimagic. And Bill here-"

"Has been so impressed by all the stories Ron's told us about your adventures, that
I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to spend more time with you," the Weasley
son teased, giving him a wink.

Harry blushed a bit at the praise, but Moody rolled his eyes at the redhead.

"Weasley," the ex-Auror explained, "will be showing you some warding, and whatever
else he can think of that'd be useful."
Harry considered all this. The benefit of duelling was obvious, but the other two…

"Why Medimagic and warding?"

"Medimagic can be of use in numerous situations, Mr Potter, both on the battlefield

and in the wake of it," Healer Vance told him, sounding affronted that he would
question its use.

"The basics are standard Auror training lad," Moody said. "In case you need to
patch yourself up in an emergency so you can keep fighting."

"And it is all well and good to survive the battle, but the effort is somewhat
wasted on the injured if they die in the aftermath due to lack of medical
attention," Vance pointed out.

Harry nodded, hoping his expression conveyed his understanding. It seemed it did as
the Healer sniffed once, and relaxed. He felt a bit silly for not having realised
the advantages of Medimagic training in the first place. Not wanting to make the
same mistake twice, he considered how warding might be of use.

"And I suppose," he said slowly, thinking aloud, "that there's all sorts of uses
for wards. Probably not so much during a battle, but if you had warning beforehand
you could prepare. Or if you had to go into hiding, or wanted to secure a home."

"Exactly," Bill said approvingly. "And there's countless types of wards for every
possible situation. A good warder can even improvise and create one to suit."

"There's a lot of people could do with learning a thing or two about warding,"
Moody observed. "Given the current climate, most people's homes are far too
unprotected."

"It's getting better through, since Amelia took over," Tonks said.

"I read about that in the Daily Prophet," Harry said, leaning forward. "That Amelia
Bones is the new Minister. I've been doing some catch-up reading. I generally don't
pay much attention to what that rag says, but I figured they'd have the Minister's
identity right at least."

"And they're saying you and Dumbledore aren't delusional and senile after all," the
Auror said, sounding upbeat.

"No, we're 'lone voices of truth in dark times'," Harry recited, "or some such
rot."

"They're finally getting the score on Fudge right too," Bill added. "He's now a
publicly declared coward, who endangered us all by sticking his head in the stand.
Not surprising he was voted out, now they're printing some truth in the Prophet."

"So is Minister Bones any good then?"

"She's already increased the budget to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Which means we can recruit more Aurors," the Metamorphmagus said.

"She's got her head on straight, Bones does," Moody growled approvingly. "Made
Shacklebolt the new head of the DMLE. Started Auror patrols of Diagon Alley and
Hogsmeade."

"And she's getting basic warding and defence information out to the public," Bill
added.

Vance didn't say anything but she did nod approvingly. Harry got he impression the
woman preferred to keep silent unless necessary.

"So, this training I'll be doing," he asked, wondering. "How will I be able to get
around the underage restrictions?"

"Bit late to be asking now boy," Moody barked. "The magic we four've used would've
set off the Trace already."

"The Trace?"

"It's how the Ministry tracks underage magic," Tonks explained. "It's a charm they
put on you when you start Hogwarts that breaks when you turn seventeen. It alerts
the Improper Use of Magic Office at the Ministry whenever magical is performed in
the vicinity of an underage witch or wizard."

"In the vicinity? So they can't tell who actually did it?" he asked and received a
negative reply. "Well that explains why I got a warning before second year, when
Dobby was here floating a cake," he said, but then something occurred to him. "But
wait, what about children in magical families. They don't get in trouble when their
parents use magic, do they?"

"No, the charm tells what spell was used, and where," Bill told him. "If it was
used in a magical area, or a magical household, then no warning gets sent."

"So how do they tell when those kids have used underage magic?"

"They can't. They just expect the parents to keep an eye on their children."

The outraged expression on Harry's face made Tonks giggle, albeit sympathetically,
and her hair turn yellow.

"I bet Malfoy's parents probably let him do magic at home."

"Probably," Bill agreed. "But it'll work to our advantage too, because we've made
it official record that there's going to be witches and wizards on and around
Private Drive, which makes it temporarily a magical area."

"So I won't be caught if I use magic?" he asked excitedly, as realisation dawned.

At the nods of agreement, he grinned widely and, just for fun, set off a rainbow of
sparks. He quickly stopped however as this sudden display of magic seemed to set
Mad-Eye one edge - not an advisable activity.

"What about the where?" Harry inquired. "Where will I be training?"

"I believe Headmaster Dumbledore has warded the local park," Healer Vance said. "No
Muggles will wander in, nor notice any happening within its confines."

"So!" Tonks cried, jumping to her feet. "What say we head over and get started,
huh?"

The others soon agreed.

Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).

Training

Posted : 21 November, 2009

Disclaimer : I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the
Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original
characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright
infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any
way.

Author's Note : I invented a word - an adorably nifty word. Ladies and gentlemen,
I present: "Luna-logical". *Giggles*. You can probably guess what it means, but see
the below chapter to read it in a sentence.

Chapter 3 - Training

Sunday, September 1, 1996

"Ladies first," Bill said flirtatiously, gesturing toward the barrier between
platforms nine and ten. "None of that age before beauty rubbish."

"You calling me beautiful Bill?" Tonks asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

"You're a vision," he replied in a serious tone.

Harry smiled at the interaction between the two, knowing this was a game for them.
He recalled over the holidays, his reaction to spying Bill chatting up an
attractive Muggle woman who had been jogging past the park where they'd been
training. He'd been immediately worried that Tonks would be upset. After all, from
the teasing and banter he regularly witnessed between the two, he'd come to the
conclusion that they were an item. Or an almost-item at the least.

When he confronted Bill however, he was quickly informed that the teasing was just
that - teasing - and not anything serious for either of them. Tonks, who had
overheard the conversation, agreed with Bill's claims, saying the redhead was just
a terrible flirt.

Of course Harry's understanding soon turned to embarrassment when Bill asked if

he'd never had anyone play-flirt with him before. When Harry had honestly answered
no, Bill had said he'd have to change that, giving him a wink as Tonks nodded
agreement, giving him a once over. Both actions had made him blush in
embarrassment, and stutter excuses that they should get back to training.

"A vision? Well, who am I to argue with that?" Tonks laughed, skipping forward to
disappearing through the barrier.

Bill then turned to Harry.

"You next gorgeous, and I'll follow along."

He was proud of himself for barely blushing at all at the compliment, merely
smiling and stepping through onto platform nine and three quarters. Under the
teasing attentions of Bill and Tonks he had become a bit better adjusted to the
casual flirting. It was, he admitted, more self preservation than anything else.
Since he'd spent so much time with the pair, what with all his training, it had
been a case of 'get used to it' or else spend half the summer the colour of a
tomato.
Shaking his head as Bill appeared behind him, his mind went back to his summer and
the training he'd received. He recalled his first lesson, with Tonks and Moody.

..ooOOFlashbackOOoo..

After finishing explanations in his bedroom, the group of witches and wizards had
trooped down to the warded park. Once there Bill and Healer Vance had stepped back
allowing Moody and Tonks to take the lead first.

"Now," Moody announced in his usual gruff tone, "as we said, Tonks and I'll be your
duelling instructors."

"Can I ask," Harry inquired curiously, "why I need two teachers for this?"

"Simple lad. Tonks here will be your duelling partner if and until you get good
enough to duel me. As things stand, I'd flatten you in short order; you wouldn't
last two seconds against me."

That seemed a bit discouraging, but Harry had to admit that Moody was probably
right. He was a legendary Auror after all; the bane of dark wizards in his day.

"Now," Moody continued, "to start off I need to gauge your skill level. Best way to
do that is some practice duelling. Tonks!" He gestured her toward Harry. "Get over
there. I want you two a goodly distance apart, wands drawn and ready to cast."

"Aye-aye, Captain." Ahe saluted, skipping over to her place.

As he gripped his wand, looking across the field at Tonks who sent him a grin,
Harry was feeling cautiously optimistic.

"On three, two, one," Moody counted down, "DUEL!"

Half a minute later, as Harry was revived and his wand returned, he realised his
optimism was misplaced. Tonks might not look like much but she could out-duel him
without too much trouble. He still had a long way to go. Fortunately for his ego,
Tonks was actually complimentary.

"Wow Harry," she said, "I didn't expect you to last that long. I'm a fully
qualified Auror after all, and the training for that's nothing to sniff at. It's
pretty impressive you managed to keep me on my toes for any time at all."

Moody nodded. "By all rights she should have had you down in seconds."

He wasn't sure whether to be discouraged by their low expectations or encouraged by

the fact that they seemed impressed. He might well be the best Defence student of
his year at Hogwarts, but it was quickly becoming apparent to Harry that he had
nothing on a trained Auror. He supposed he should just be grateful that he exceeded
expectations and had two such skilled trainers to help him improve.

..ooOOEndFlashbackOOoo..

Harry was jolted from his thoughts by Tonks plastering herself to his side, linking
her arm through his and looking up at him, batting unnaturally elongated lashes and
pouting swollen lips. He stared at her confused for a moment before Bill spoke up.

"Well," the redhead asked teasingly, "aren't you going to give the lady a kiss
goodbye?"

Tonks batted her eyelashes further, puckering her lips slightly, as if in

anticipation. Biting his tongue, Harry drew on every reserve of composure he'd
managed to build up since the duo had started teasing him. Then, instead of
blushing and getting flustered, he took the Metamorphmagus's arm from his, bowed
over her hand and chivalrously brushed a kiss across her knuckles, looking up at
her adoringly from beneath his lowered lashes.

"My Lady," he whispered huskily - or as close to huskily as his voice could manage.

Tonks was shocked at his response and for a moment she gaped at him, hair cycling
through an array of colours. Bill laughed loudly, squeezing Harry's shoulder.

"Well done," he congratulated. "I think you win that round. You're finally
learning."

"Aww," Tonks cooed, regaining control of her wits. "Our little apprentice of
flirtation is all growed up."

Harry just grinned at the pair.

"What can I say? I had good teachers," he responded.

"Flatterer," Tonks said, slapping his arm lightly. "Now get on the train you. It's
about to leave."

Looking around he realised for the first time just how close they were cutting it.
That made sense though - the less time he was in the open, the less risk. Looking
around the platform he spotted Mrs Weasley hustling one of her children (Harry
didn't know which; only spotted the red hair) onto the train. She looked up then
and caught sight of him, quickly hurrying over.

"Bill dear. And Tonks it's good to see too. And Harry, there you are. I've been
looking for you everywhere. I worried you might be late," she said, giving him a
quick hug. "You had a good summer I hope?"

"Productive." He shrugged, shying away from her measuring expression.

"Harry, you better get on the train before it leaves without you," Bill said as the
train whistle sounded, saving him from Molly's mothering.

Harry sent the older boy a thankful look and then focussed on hauling his trunk
aboard. Boarded and standing at the door, he looked at the three faces before him.

"It was good seeing you again Mrs Weasley-"

"It's Molly dear."

"Molly," he corrected awkwardly. "Well I better go." He looked at the other two.
"I'll see you guys soon then?" he asked, since his training was to continue at
school.

"You betcha," Tonks chirped.

"Can't keep us away green eyes," Bill nodded with a smile.

Molly looked confused, but none of them filled her in. His training sessions
weren't common knowledge yet.

Just then there was one last whistle before the train gave a lurch.
"Bye!" Tonks said waving.

"Your friends are two compartments up," Molly hurried to tell him.

"See you soon," called Bill.

Then the train was pulling away from the station and he shut the door. Through the
window he could see Bill and Molly standing in place waving, whilst Tonks skipped
down the platform, trying to keep up. He laughed at her efforts, waving back, and
soon the train picked up speed and platform nine and three quarters was left
behind.

Grabbing his trunk he began dragging it down the train. Two cars down he stopped
and opened the compartment door.

"Harry, mate!" Ron greeted him. "Get in here."

He smiled, glad to see his friends again, and entered the compartment, Ron and
Neville standing up to take his trunk and heave it up into the luggage rack
overhead. He took a seat opposite Hermione and Luna, and once they were done Ron
and Neville sat down on either side of him. It was almost the whole ministry crew
together again. The only one missing was…

"Where's Ginny?" he asked and Ron scowled.

"She's with Dean," Hermione answered him. "And stop sulking Ron. She's fifteen. Old
enough to have a boyfriend."

"But it's Dean."

"I thought you liked Dean," Neville said. "I mean you two have never argued or
anything."

"I did like Dean." Ron nodded. "Till the rat started dating my baby sister."

"She's not a baby Ronald," Hermione scolded.

Harry rolled his eyes and tuned out the habitual bickering. His gaze landed on Luna

"Hello Harry," she greeted him dreamily. "I hope you've not been too terribly sad
about your godfather being dead and all."

From anyone else that would have sounded cold and uncaring. Fortunately Harry knew
Luna well enough by now to know that she was just rather blunt at times. She was
also very honest so he knew that when she said she hoped he'd not been too sad, she
meant just that. Ignoring the sudden silence of the compartment he smiled softly at
her.

"I was a bit of a mess that the beginning of summer," he admitted. "But I woke up
around my birthday and I've been feeling better ever since, though I still miss
him, and I still feel guilty."

"Oh Harry," Hermione breathed. "You do know it wasn't your fault don't you?"

Harry winced and looked away from her. Desperately, he sought a way to change the
subject.

"So, I've been training this summer."

It worked. Immediately his friends were asking questions. Well, except for Luna,
but she did look very curious. Before he could answer any of them the compartment
door slid open.

"What's with the racket?" Ginny asked, taking a seat beside Luna. "I could hear you
lot from the corridor."

Wincing, Harry immediately raised his wand and cast a privacy charm on the
compartment. Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow at his actions.

"Part of my training was with Moody. I've had 'constant vigilance' drummed into my
brain all summer," he explained, "'Always use privacy charms when having private
conversations, not matter that they seem innocuous; you never know who might be
listening and what information might prove useful to an enemy'," he quoted in a
mimicry of Moody's gruff tone.

"Training?" Ginny asked. "Is that what you did this summer?"

He nodded. "I just told the others. That's what the fuss was all about."

"And was this training the reason you wrote to us so little after those letters on
your birthday?" Hermione questioned him, clearly disapproving at his lack of
contact.

"Yeah," Ron added in an offended tone. "Dumbledore had mentioned us maybe visiting
you, but when I asked Mum about it she said you weren't interested."

Harry sighed but quickly hurried to explain. He was glad to see his best friends
after so long, but Hermione could be so nagging sometimes and Ron's feelings were
so easily bruised.

"There's a war going on guys," he said tersely, "and like it or not I seem to be a
major target. I had to focus on my training. I'm sorry I didn't pay as much
attention to you all as I maybe should have, but learning all I could seemed more
important."

The pair was reluctantly appeased at his explanation. Silence followed for a
moment.

"Purple knickers!" Luna suddenly spouted and they all looked at her strangely.

"What?" Ron questioned, baffled.

"The silence was awkward. I decided to break it."

"By saying purple… you know."

"Knickers?" she repeated and Ron flushed, carefully not looking in Hermione's
direction.

"Yeah. Why that?"

"Why not?" was her Luna-logical reply.

Ron had no counterargument. Still, her efforts had worked as the awkwardness was
dissipated. Harry looked over at Ginny.

"I thought you were riding with Dean. Are things alright with you two?"
She shrugged. "We like each other and all but it's just casual. We're not joined at
the hip or anything. I said I wanted to ride with you guys and he was fine with
that."

Ron looked pleased to hear his sister's relationship was not too serious.

"So Harry," Neville asked, "what was your training like?"

The others perked up, eager to hear what he had to say.

"Well, I had four trainers. First were Moody and Tonks for duelling and combat.
Well, that and general paranoia."

"Paranoia?"

"Yeah, from Moody. You know: 'constant vigilance'; 'if it seems to good to be true
then it probably is'; 'if anything can go wrong, it will'; 'be alert; someone is
always watching'. Those sort of things."

Ron, Neville and Ginny found the Moody quotes amusing. Hermione seemed torn between
taking notes (Mad Eye had sort of been a teacher after all, so his advice should be
given due respect) and disapproving of the ex-Auror's pessimism. Luna just looked
vaguely intrigued.

"Who else was teaching you?" Hermione questioned.

"There were two others. Bill-"

"Bill?" Ron interrupted. "My brother Bill?" Harry nodded. "That git - he never
said!"

"Honestly Ron. He was probably told to keep silent," Hermione interjected.

Harry nodded. "Not even your mum knows."

"And thank goodness for that," said Ginny. "If she knew one of the 'children' were
training to fight she would've chucked a fit."

Ron shuddered and nodded, obviously agreeing.

"So what did Bill teach you then?"

"He covered warding and a few rare spells he'd picked up over the place. He knows
some really cool ones."

Ginny grinned. "I know. Where do you think I learnt my famous Bat Bogey Hex? That
little gem was in graffitied in Incan script on some ruins he was sent to check out
in Peru."

Harry grinned in return. Bill really did know some interesting spells. And that was
to say nothing of his skill with wards. Though he specialised in curse breaking,
and thus the dismantling of spells and wards, he was also very adept at putting
them up as well. Harry had enjoyed learning from him.

They had started with simple things like privacy wards, before moving onto the more
common basic wards like fire repelling lines, and eventually got into more complex
spells like intention based wards. His mind drifted to a particularly interesting
lesson he'd had with the redhead.
..ooOOFlashbackOOoo..

Harry made his way down Privet Drive, feeling particularly eager. Bill had said
last lesson that they were going to be doing something interesting today. As he
finally reached the park he spotted Bill sitting at the picnic tables. His
curiosity was roused by the sight of a small shed-like building nearby. It was a
wooden structure about as tall as he was with a single door.

"What's that for?" he asked, as he came to a halt before his teacher.

"This," Bill said, gesturing expansively toward the shed, "is the home of Mr
Pumpkin."

Harry blinked, "What?"

"I've decided we've done enough theory and practice castings by now to know your
strengths and weaknesses. You'll never have the mathematical mind for the
Arithmancy required for breaking curses or bringing down wards, but you seem to
instinctively understand how to put them up," Bill explained, critiquing Harry's
performance in his lessons thus far, "so I've decided it's time now to put it all
into practice."

Harry, beginning to get an idea, looked toward the shed again.

"You mean…" He gestured at the building and the other man nodded.

"Yep. Your job today is to ward this 'home' to protect the 'occupant'," at this he
hopped up from his seat and opened the door to reveal the orange vegetable
occupant, "Mr Pumpkin."

Harry was a bit shocked. After all, they'd not done much casting yet excepting to
gauge his current skills. He hadn't expected his first full on practical lesson to
be so involved and told Bill so. The redhead just shrugged.

"I think it's best to just jump in feet first."

"Do or drown?" he asked and Bill rolled his eyes.

"Well it's not all that dramatic - it's only Mr Pumpkin on the line after all - but
yeah, I guess so. Now, I'm going to cast a ward of silence around myself and turn
around so I'll have no idea what defences you put up. You start warding then tap me
on the shoulder when you're ready and I'll try to get at Mr Pumpkin."

"Does it have to be called Mr Pumpkin?" Harry asked with an amused smile at the
continued use of the name.

"Why, it look like a 'Miss' to you?"

"Not particularly. It just isn't very creative, is it?"

"It's that or Miss Cucurbita."

"What's cucurbita mean?"

"It's Latin for pumpkin," he said and Harry huffed a laugh.

"Nah, let's stick to the first one."

Once Bill had spun around and cast the silence ward, Harry turned his attention to
Mr Pumpkin's abode. As he stared at the building, he remembered an idea he'd been
thinking about during his warding study. Raising his wand, he decided to start with
the basics: anti-Apparition and anti-Portkey wards. But then he laced a delicate,
almost unnoticeable spell between the two. It was tricky casting and nothing he'd
ever tried before. To be honest he hadn't even known it was really possible, but
Bill said he had an instinctive understanding and it seemed right. The real test
would come when Bill brought them down.

Twenty minutes later he tapped the curse breaker on the shoulder and the redhead
turned his attention to the warded building. Harry was a bit depressed at how
easily Bill began to dismantle the protections he'd set up. He held his breath as
the other wizard stripped the spells away one at a time till he reached the anti-
Apparition and anti-Portkey wards. Just as Bill released the pair, a frown creased
his brow.

"Wait, what is-" he began but was too late. "Gah!"

Harry let loose a whoop of laughter. He looked up at Bill who was looking quite
surprised and rather soggy, having been hit by a sudden spray of water, and laughed
some more. Well, until the redhead turned his wand on him and said "Aguamenti",
that is. He spluttered and wiped the water from his face before glaring up at the
older man who was grinning unrepentantly.

"Tsk, tsk, Harry," he chided. "What would Mad Eye say at you being caught off guard
like that. Constant vigilance!" he barked then grinned again. "That was brilliant
though Harry. How'd you think to thread a water charm hidden in between the other
two? I wasn't planning to teach you about hidden trigger wards for a while yet."

Harry shrugged. "It was just an idea I had; hiding a spell between some others. I
figured the water spell was a good one because it's…" He struggled to explain.
"It's 'basic' somehow."

Bill nodded, "Yeah, it's a first level elemental charm. Simple, uncomplicated and
low power, and so not really noticeable, especially hidden by the more complex
anti-Apparition and anti-Portkey wards. Under normal circumstances I would probably
have caught it, but I was lazy because I underestimated you. Really, that was
brilliant of you. Most wizards wouldn't think something like that up on their own.
You really do have a knack for this stuff."

Harry tried not to make his pleasure too obvious, but like flying, it seemed he'd
found something he was naturally good at. Oh sure, he was the best in his age group
in defence, but that wasn't natural talent so much as practice and necessity. He
couldn't wait to learn more.

..ooOOEndFlashbackOOoo..

"Well, who was your last teacher then?"

Coming back to himself at the sound of Ron's question, Harry shook his head and
answered.

"Emmeline Vance."

"She's the woman in the Order who always wears a shawl, isn't she?" Hermione said,
recalling the witch. "Very formal looking. And isn't she a healer?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Dumbledore figured it might be a good idea to learn some
Medimagic too."
"Why?" Ron asked and it was Luna who answered.

"Imagine if someone you love was injured and died before you could get them medical
attention," the girl said, sadness in her voice. "Wouldn't you wish you could have
helped them?"

Harry remembered her telling how her mother had died whilst experimenting with
spells when Luna was only nine. He suddenly had a strong suspicion that Luna had
been with Mrs Lovegood as she died, and that the feeling of being unable to help
haunted her. He sent Luna a sympathetic smile and she gave him a grateful look
before her gaze went unfocussed and dreamy once more.

He thought back to his lessons with Healer Vance. The training had not been as
intriguing as warding, nor elicited the need to excel in him that duelling did. And
he was most certainly not a natural. Still, he had worked hard despite that,
remembering the injuries his friends had sported at the Department of Mysteries
Battle. He had worked hard in all areas of training in fact, and his effort and
focus had paid of as he learnt at a rate that impressed all four of his tutors.

From there followed more questions about his training. Moody had rubbed off on him
a bit however, as he recalled the man warning him to 'never reveal the extent of
your abilities unless absolutely necessary'. And so he kept his explanations brief
and light on details, though it clearly annoyed Hermione who as always wanted to
know everything . Eventually he changed the topic, asking the others how their own
holidays were. Luna promptly piped up regaling them with the tale of her Snorkack
hunting and the rest of the train ride passed amicably.

Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).

Loyalties

Posted : 28 November, 2009

Disclaimer : I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the
Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original
characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright
infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any
way.

Chapter 4 - Loyalties

Friday, September 6, 1996

It was the end of the first week of classes, and Harry's first lesson with Bill
since he'd returned to school. Before September first they'd all agreed on a
schedule. Reluctantly he'd had to admit that with school work and homework it
wasn't reasonable to expect him to be able to handle extra lessons every day. So
instead, he had duelling and combat on Monday evenings, Medimagic on Wednesday
evenings, and warding and specialty spells on Friday evenings.

Currently it was Friday and Harry and Bill were seated on comfy beanbags in the
Room Of Requirement. There was a little model house on the floor between them which
the younger had warded and the older was now inspecting.

"So, how's school been?" Bill asked absentmindedly, more focussed on deactivating a
rather embarrassing trap ward that would have vanished all his body hair.
"Okay for the most part, but the new defence teacher is more boring than Binns. We
do practical work at least but it's not really anything challenging. Oh, and
Snape's been a nightmare."

"More so than usual?"

Harry nodded. "I only got an Exceeds Expectations on my O.W.L. for potions, and
Snape usually only accepts Outstanding grade students. Dumbledore made him lower
the grade. He said it was because with the war and all we need as many qualified
Potioneers as possible."

"Sound about right," Bill agreed, focussing on carefully unweaving a tangle of

spells he'd carefully knotted together in groups of three to make them more stable
and holding. "We'll need Brewers. Not to mention potions is a required subject for
Mediwizards and Healers."

"Yeah, Healer Vance told me that. I thought my lessons with her were doomed to
failure till I finally opened my O.W.L. results and saw my grade. I mean I didn't
think it was enough for Snape's class at the time, but it at least meant I wasn't
as terrible at it as I thought. Good enough to follow Healer Vance's instructions
at least." He sighed as Bill unweaved the last of the tangled wards. "Anyways,
Snape seems dead certain that the real reason he has to accept EE students is
favouritism for the boy-who-lived, so he's decided to make my life as unpleasant as
possible."

"You're not getting detentions are you?" Bill asked in concern. "You don't really
have time for them."

"No, thankfully. Dumbledore had to inform him about my extra lessons, which Moody
was pissed about, because you know how little he trusts Snape. He insisted
Dumbledore get an oath of silence from the greasy git about it, which I'm glad for;
I don't really trust him either. Anyway, once he had let Snape in on about my
training, he explained that because of it my schedule's just too full for
detentions. So instead he's taking a sadistic pleasure in draining the Gryffindor
points hourglass dry," he said and then there was silence for a time before he
asked, "So, how am I doing?" in reference to his warding of the model house.

"Brilliant as always. A lesser curse breaker might have had difficulty unweaving
those trio tied spells. You did them nice and tight. And a few of those hidden
trigger wards were very subtle. Even some decent curse breakers could have been
caught up by them. Although, that hair removal curse was a bit blatant."

"I couldn't think of a complex enough ward with a similar feel to it that would
hide it well."

"Hmm, there's a nasty curse that rips off toenails that has a similar structure,"
Bill said thoughtfully. "So why did you put it in there? You had to have known I'd
see it?"

"Well probably. I've only gotten you twice since the first time. I know you'd
almost certainly see the spell." He shrugged and grinned cheekily. "But all the
same, I figured it was worth casting on the off chance you did miss it. It would
have been quite entertaining."

Bill mock glared. "Brat. Bald isn't the best look on me." Then his expression
shifted to a leer. "Then again, the curse would have removed hair all over .
Perhaps you just like your men hairless in those delicate places, hmm? Is that what
you were trying to tell me Harry?"
Despite the leaps and bounds he'd made over summer in handling Bill and Tonks'
flirting, that innuendo was more than a bit much for Harry's composure. He promptly
blushed a bright red and spluttered out denials. Bill laughed at his reaction and
leaned forward to ruffle his hair.

"Sorry Harry. That was a bit much, wasn't it?" Then his hand trailed down to touch
fingers to the boy's reddened cheeks. "But you blush very prettily."

This of course only prompted Harry to blush further, before batting the hand away.

"I blush very prettily? I'm not a bloody girl Bill," he mock growled.

"I dunno; you're very small."

"Oh shut up."

Bill laughed again.

Sunday, September 8, 1996

Homework all having been finished on Saturday, Harry and his friends - except for
Ginny, who was spending time with her boyfriend - were taking the time to relax on
the lawn of Hogwarts by the lake. Luna had suggested a picnic lunch and while Ron
had at first objected, claiming picnics were for pansies, even he had to admit it
had been a good idea. They all lazed about quite happily now, throwing pieces of
bread to the giant squid. It was a rare moment of peace given how tense the
atmosphere at Hogwarts had been thus far, what with attacks going on in the world
at large and students worried for their families.

Harry was lying on his back, twirling a piece of grass between his fingers as he
stared up at the clouds. As nice as this was he was starting to feel a bit guilty.
So much of the fate of the war rested on his shoulders and a large part of him felt
he should not be resting till Voldemort was defeated. In fact, he was just
concocting an excuse to leave his friends and sneak off to the Room of Requirement
for some solo duelling practice, when the sound of several approaching footsteps
drew his attention.

Sitting up he turned around to find a group of students standing a few feet away
from them. They were mostly in his year, and ranged from Gryffindor to Ravenclaw to
Hufflepuff. His friends, noticing the newcomers also, turned their attention that
way too. Hermione Harry noted had a knowing look on her face, and Neville looked
like he suspected the reason for the visit also.

"Hello?" he said, half greeting half questioning as the group stared at him.

There was something about the particular selection of students present that niggled
at the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite figure it out.

After a pause the group nudged one of their number forward. It was Susan Bones and
she was obviously the chosen spokesperson.

"Hi Harry," she greeted with a nervous smile. "Umm, we've all been talking, and we
were wondering, were planning to restart the D.A.? We'd all like it if you did."

"What? Why?" Harry asked, blinking in surprise, realising finally that all the
students in the group were former D.A. members.

"Oh Harry, isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, who was not at all surprised by the
request. "With the war now in the open it's even more crucial that we know how to
defend ourselves."

Susan nodded. "Aunty Amelia was very pleased with my Defence scores. It's never
been my best subject before last year. When I explained the group and all the
practical experience I've gotten she thought it was a brilliant idea. Times are
dangerous after all, and while she wouldn't encourage me looking for trouble, she
feels better knowing I've more chance of looking after myself if it finds me."

"Please say we'll keep practicing Harry," piped up Colin Creevey from the middle of
the group.

Harry was torn as the students - his friends included - all stared at him with
hopeful and expectant faces. On the one hand, he saw their point. They could only
benefit from continuing the D.A. On the other hand, his schedule was already very
full. He wasn't sure he would be able to dedicate the proper amount of time and
effort to the group. Perhaps he should talk to his trainers about it and see what
they said.

"No promises, but I'll think on it," he said. "Give me a few days."

Monday, September 9, 1996

Harry's next training session was Monday evening with Mad Eye Moody. He informed
Harry that Tonks was on Auror duty that night so it would only be the two of them.
The first thing they did was go over the spells they'd learnt last lesson and then
he taught Harry several new ones and explained situations where they could be used
to best advantage.

The teen was particularly impressed with one called the Flashbang Jinx (incantation
'Micosono') that worked much like a stun grenade, expelling blinding light and an
incredibly loud explosion-like noise. Somehow the light and noise only affected the
targets and not the caster. It would be very useful for distracting or temporarily
incapacitating Death Eaters.

Once Harry had a good enough handle on the spells that he could perfect them on his
own time, Moody ordered him to draw his wand and prepare to duel. To make it a more
even match, the ex-Auror duelled with his left hand. The fight was fast paced and
brutal and lasted only about forty seconds. Nevertheless, despite his defeat, Harry
felt pleased and proud of his efforts. His performance was a definite improvement
to the first time he'd fought against Moody like this. That duel had lasted exactly
two seconds, much to his embarrassment.

When Moody revived him he lay where he'd fallen, breath panting from the exertion.
He kept his wand ready in case Moody decided to hit him with a surprise attack, as
the wizard was occasionally wont to do. ('Constant vigilance' really was a motto to
live by, at least when Moody was your trainer.) No aggressive moods were made
however, so he decided to take the moment to breach the topic of the D.A.

"Sir, I was hoping to get some advice."

Moody stared at him questioningly.

"What about lad?"

Harry explained about the D.A. and how his former students had approached him about
restarting it.

"And I'm not sure what to do. I don't know whether I'll have time, what with
training and all. But I feel guilty saying no."
Moody sat contemplating for a moment before responding.

"I say you do it."

"Really?" he asked surprised. "You don't think I'll be too busy?"

"Nah; consider it practice. It can never hurt to brush up on your basics. It keeps
your skills fresh. And you can learn a lot about your own abilities while teaching
others. Besides, with the war those kids really need the training," he said firmly.
"No, your question shouldn't have been whether to agree to teach them. Rather you
should've been asking advice on security."

"Security?" Harry asked, though he wasn't entirely surprised that was where the ex-
Auror's mind had led.

"Security," he repeated firmly. "If you're wanting to use this room to teach them
in, they'll have to pass muster first, before I let them in on the secret."

"What secret? They already know about the Room of Requirement. We used it last
year."

"I know. But it's been put under Fidelius since then, hasn't it?" Moody said, to
Harry's obvious surprise. "Didn't mention that, did I? Well I'm secret keeper."

Harry was still shocked. Moody being the secret keeper explained things though. Now
that he knew, he recalled that the scarred wizard had been rather specific in his
directions to the room when he led him to his first at-school training session last
Monday. Moody of course knew he had used the room before, but despite that Harry
hadn't thought to wonder about the level of detail.

"But you're willing to tell them so we can use it again?" he asked, a little
surprised that the paranoid wizard would willingly open their training room up to
so many people like that.

"Partially," Moody grunted. "There's ways to give out the secret on a conditional
basis. Say you plan your little D.A. classes for a certain day at a certain time -
well then, that will be the only time they can find the room."

"Really? I didn't realise the charm could do that."

"One of Dumbledore's little modifications," he explained. "Still, that won't be the

only precautions we'll have to take. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he yelled and Harry
barely managed not to jump. "We'll have to make sure they're on the right side
first."

Saturday, September 14, 1996

Moody had requested and few days to set everything up. When first he'd begun
detailing security measures, the paranoid former Auror listed such methods as
Veritaserum testing, oath taking and secrecy bindings. Whilst Harry was uncertain
about some of those, it was nothing to the man's next suggestion. He had to drawn
the line somewhere, and kidnap interrogations seemed the place to do it, though it
had taken his most adamant and persuasive arguments to dissuade Mad Eye.

Harry had passed on to the former D.A. members - with the exception of the betrayer
Marietta Edgecombe - that the first meeting of the year would be held on Saturday
afternoon in the deserted music hall on the third floor. (Moody had understandably
said that he wouldn't reveal the Room of Requirement to them till after they passed
his tests.)

That day was today and so, after lunch, students began filtering from the Great
Hall toward the third floor. As they arrived, Harry directed everyone to help
themselves to the refreshment table that was set up. By one o'clock, everyone was
present and, standing by the entrance as he was, only he heard the click and then
squelch as the invisible Moody locked and sealed the door.

"If everyone could take a seat in a circle on the floor," he asked and everyone
did, eager to get started. "Now firstly, I want to apologise for the deception, but
the pumpkin juice at the refreshments table was spelled and spiked."

There were cries of confusion and unease.

"Harry?" Hermione asked demandingly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it was spelled so that everyone would drink some. And it was laced with
Aleksi's Truth Potion," he said and immediately there was an uproar, "Calm down!
Everyone just calm down! Hermione, can you explain to everyone what that potion
does?"

"Invented by Finnish wizard Aleksi Nikula in 1927," Hermione automatically

responded, in her textbook lecturing tone. "Aleksi's Truth Potion, unlike the
better known truth serum Veritaserum, is not ministry controlled. This is because
it does not force the drinker to tell the truth, only prevents them from being able
to lie."

At her words most of the group calmed down, no doubt relieved that they couldn't be
forced to reveal embarrassing secrets.

"Why did you lace our drinks Harry?" Susan Bones spoke up and others murmured their
agreement.

"Simple. Last time the D.A. was betrayed by one of our own. We can't risk that
happening again."

"But it's not like we need to keep it a secret this time," said Justin Finch-
Fletchley from a spot almost opposite Harry. "Umbridge isn't around to ban clubs
anymore."

Harry opened his mouth to respond when there was a chorus of surprised gasps.
Following the line of everyone's gaze he looked behind him to see that Mad Eye had
removed his invisibility cloak.

"You should never reveal the extent of your abilities unless absolutely necessary,"
Moody barked. "Especially to enemies. They're more likely to underestimate you if
they don't realise what you're capable of. Are you all willing to risk revealing
your skills to the Death Eaters if one of your number is dark?"

The scarred wizard stared piercingly at the circle of teens, his one blue eye
spinning crazily about, pinning students with suspicious stares. Needless to say it
was a very intimidating sight and they were all reluctant to disagree with him.
Finally someone mustered the courage to break the silence.

"What about you Potter?" Zacharias Smith demanded accusingly. "Are we all expected
to submit to this while you go potion free?"

Only a few expressed agreement but none outright objected, leading Harry to believe
they all felt somewhat the same. He nodded.
"No, you're right. If you all have to tell the truth, so should I. Zacharias, why
don't you bring me a cup?"

Everyone watched in silence as the Hufflepuff boy got to his feet and filled a cup
with the spiked pumpkin juice, then handed it to Harry before retaking his seat.
Everyone watched with bated breath as he raised the cup to his lips and, without
hesitation, downed the whole thing. Immediately the atmosphere cleared as people
relaxed. They obviously felt more comfortable and less cornered at knowing Harry
was affected the same as them.

"Now, we go around the circle and you all state your full name and deny any loyalty
to the Dark Lord Voldemort," Moody ordered. "Potter, you start."

"My name is Harry James Potter," Harry said confidently, "and I am not loyal to
Voldemort."

Most of the room flinched at his speaking of the feared name. Hermione - seated to
his left - shot him a look to show that she was still displeased at having been
left out of his little potions surprise, but gamely followed all the same.

"My name is Hermione Jean Granger and I hold no allegiance for the Dark Lord
Voldemort."

"I'm Ron," the redhead on Hermione's left spoke next. "Ronald Bilius Weasley. I'm
not and never will be loyal to You-Know-Who."

"Too vague Weasley," Moody rebuked, "You could be imagining anyone as you say
that."

Ron paled then sighed.

"Fine then. I'm not loyal to V-Voldemort."

The declarations continued around the circle without incident till they reached
Lavender Brown. She and Parvati beside her, both flighty witches, were looking
distinctly nervous at all the speaking of Voldemort's name. Even Padma on the other
side of her sister looked a little uncomfortable.

"Do I really have to say that ?" she asked nervously. "I mean can't I just say 'The
Dark Lord You-Know-Who'?"

Moody, taking her nerves for evasion, was glaring sharply at her, fingering his
wand.

"Just say it girl," he ordered. "Or do you have something to hide then?"

"Of course not!" she exclaimed indignantly. "Fine then. My name is Lavender Abigail
Brown and I am not loyal to- to-" She shivered then took a deep breath, visibly
bracing herself. "I am not loyal to Voldemort."

She flinched slightly as she said the name but remained poised, her glare at Mad
Eye practically screaming 'see, I told you so'.

"Alright lass, alright. You next then," he pointed at Parvati who was looking as
nervous as her friend had.

"I am Parvati Nisha Patil," she said, uneasily, "and I am not loyal to V-V- You-
Know-Who."
Moody growled and Lavender nudged her friend encouragingly.

"It's okay Parv," she said. "It's just like the Waxing Spell. All that worry then
it only hurts for a second and it's over." She frowned and corrected. "Not that
saying the name hurts. It's just a little scary is all."

A few eyes rolled at her typically ditzy comments, but Parvati was not to be
convinced. This of course only made Mad Eye more suspicious. Beside Harry, Hermione
sighed in exasperation.

"Honestly Parvati. You're a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake. Just say it."

Most of the attention shifted to Hermione as she spoke, and that was when it
happened.

"Fumidus!" yelled a feminine voice, taking advantage of the distraction

Harry spun quickly in that direction, drawing his wand. He had a moment to see
Padma Patil with wand extended before smoke filled the room. There was the sound of
running footsteps behind the general ruckus as Harry quickly raised his wand
casting "Evanesco". Hearing him, others caught onto the idea and began doing the
same.

As several students cast the Vanishing Spell, there were two flashes of red light
in the fog coming from where he knew Moody had been stood. When finally the smoke
cleared, it was to the sight of Mad Eye looming over the stunned forms of the Patil
twins, fallen to the floor halfway to the door to which they had been heading, no
doubt to escape.

Everyone just sat there stunned for a long moment, before Lavender finally broke
the silence.

"P-Parvati?" she asked shakily. "But, I don't understand. Why did they- why would
she-?"

"I think it's fairly obvious that they're dark girl," Moody stated baldly.

She flinched, shaking her head and muttering denials. Everyone else watched on
morbidly.

"No, she can't be. Parvati's been my best friend for five years. I'd know."

"One way to know for sure."

As Moody bound the girls and withdrew from his cloak a vial of clear liquid, nobody
moved to object, merely crowded around the scene. Soon both girls had been dosed
and he revived them. They came to with blank expressions, as one would expect of
someone under Veritaserum.

"Starting from the left, state your names," the ex-Auror growled.

"Padma Avanti Patil."

"Parvati Nisha Patil."

"Are you loyal to the Dark Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes," both intoned

Lavender sobbed and Neville, a look of compassion on his face, stepped forward to
lay a supportive hand on her shoulder. Ginny mirrored him on the girl's other side.

"Are you a marked Death Eater?"

"No," the pair denied.

"Why not?"

"Marked students are too easily caught," the twins explained in a monotone. "We
will be marked upon completion of our schooling."

"And you wish to be marked by Voldemort? You're loyal to the dark cause?"

"Yes."

The Patils were then stunned once more, pending handing over to the Aurors. The
rest of the students returned to the circle to solemnly complete the declarations,
with no further mishaps. After that magical oaths were made by all to never
willingly serve Voldemort, and everyone submitted to secrecy spells regarding the
D.A., binding until such a time as Voldemort was defeated.

Harry had expected some objection about over the top methods at these measures, but
it seemed the bleak revelation of two potential Death Eaters in their midst - and
them being two students whom none would have suspected - was enough to sober
everyone and forestall any complaints.

Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).

Whelmed

Posted : 5 December, 2009

Disclaimer : I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the
Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original
characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright
infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any
way.

Chapter 5 - Whelmed

Friday, October 18, 1996

The Patil twins were handed over to the Aurors by Moody following the dramatic D.A.
gathering. There they were questioned and, when it was revealed they were not yet
marked and had not yet committed any crime, the Aurors were forced to release them.
Naturally, with the revelation of their true allegiances they did not return to the
school, but things were gloomy at Hogwarts for sometime thereafter.

Everyone had difficulty comprehending that the pair had been dark all along.
Lavender was of course hit particularly hard; she and Parvati had been inseparable
since first year. It was disconcerting to see the way the formerly ditzy and
cheerful witch was now so grim, not to mention determined when it came to her D.A.
efforts.

Of course, the Patil controversy was not the only source of gloom within Hogwarts
walls. Time continued to pass and tensions were ever on the rise as war escalated
in the outside world. Attacks occurred almost daily and the death toll steadily
mounted. Students lived in dread of receiving a black letter, the colour a sign of
a notification of death.

For Harry, the mood was overwhelming. People were dying and all he could think was
that it was his job to defeat Voldemort and end this war, and he hadn't done it
yet. His guilt was heavy and he felt useless. He was constantly asking Dumbledore
to let him go out on Order missions, to no avail. The elderly wizard was adamant
that he wasn't to risk himself unnecessarily.

The need to do something however was nothing to the pressure put on him by his
fellow students. More and more it seemed as though they were all looking to him for
answers, and more importantly, to make everything better. But he didn't know how.

None could deny that he'd coped remarkably well under the circumstances, especially
for an emotional teenage boy. It was a miracle he hadn't gone insane from the
expectations. The pressure just kept building and building however, and so none
could truly hold it against him that he finally cracked, especially given the form
that the final straw came in.

It was a Friday evening in mid October and the school was sitting down to dinner.
As an owl winged its way into the hall, everyone held their breath. Mail arriving
outside the usual morning delivery could only mean one thing. Sure enough, clutched
in the bird's talons was a black letter. Breaths were held as the bird swooped
overhead, and two thirds of the school relaxed as the bird focussed in on the
Gryffindor table. Finally, with a descending dive, the bird landed on the table
before a little blonde first year girl. Pale faced, she reached out and untied the
letter with shaky hands, read it once over, and then started to sob loudly.

A group of nearby seventh year girls tried to comfort the child to little effect.
Up at the head table McGonagall had seen the events and quickly made her way toward
her distraught student.

"Come Miss Lane," she said softly, reaching the girl's side. "Walk with me."

The girl stumbled from her seat, steadied by her head of house's hand on her
shoulder, which steered her toward the doors of the Great Hall. As she walked she
hiccupped and wept, clinging to Professor McGonagall's robes. They were halfway to
the doors when it happened. The girl looked up as they walked past Harry and his
friends and stumbled to a halt.

"Miss Lane?" McGonagall asked, but the student's attention was elsewhere.

Before anyone could do anything, the girl threw herself at Harry.

"Why didn't you save them?" she yelled, grabbing at his shirt and trying to shake
him. "Mummy and daddy are gone. Why didn't you save them?"

McGonagall hushed the girl, pulling her away until she collapsed, keening in grief.
When she could not be moved she picked the young one up, settled her on her hip,
and strode from the room.

In his seat, Harry sat staring at the retreating figures. The image of the tiny
little first year girl, wide blue eyes filled with tears, begging him to explain,
tore at him. The hall remained silent, waiting on his reaction.

"Harry?" Hermione tentatively reached for him.

The moment she touched him he jerked away, and the emotions he we was holding back
flooded him. He gasped, eyes wide, looking about wildly.

"I-" he stuttered, avoiding his friends gazes. "I have to go."

Then, before they could object, he jumped to his feet and fled the hall. He ran and
ran and ran, not sure where he was going. When he finally came back to himself he
could tell by the dust on the stone floor that he was in one of the long unused
sections of the castle. Reaching out to the nearest door, he turned the handle and
stumbled into an abandoned classroom.

It was two hours later when he was finally found. Bill entered the room to find him
curled tightly into a ball, tucked under a desk in the far corner. Tears had been
streaming silently down his face for some time but his expression was blank as he
stared ahead at a wall. The eldest Weasley son took one look at him and the next
thing Harry knew, the redhead had dropped to his hands and knees and crawled under
the desk with him, pulling Harry into his lap so that they would both fit. Then, as
he tucked the dark haired boy's head beneath his chin, Harry let out a stifled sob.

"It's okay Harry," he murmured soothingly, running one hand through his hair as the
other rubbed his back. "Just let it out."

At Bill's words Harry finally broke down completely. And all the while, Bill just
held him close and rocked him gently, letting him cry himself out. Sometime later
his tears tapered off till he was slumped red eyed and wearily against the older
wizard's chest. He seemed lighter somehow, and felt like he might drift right off
to sleep.

"Bill?" He asked, voice stuffy and congested. "How'd you find me?"

"I asked Dumbledore. He asked the portraits which way you went."

"How'd you know to look?"

"When you didn't turn up for our lesson I wondered where you were. I asked the
headmaster and he explained what happened."

"Sorry. For missing the lesson, I mean."

"Don't worry. It's fine," he said, threading his fingers through Harry's hair in a
way that made the boy sigh and his eyes drift shut. "I know we're blokes and we're
not supposed to talk about these things, but I think that's rubbish. So why don't
you tell me how you're feeling. Might help."

Harry remained silent for a long moment. Did he really want to open up and spew his
feelings out like that? He really wasn't the sort to confide in someone about such
things. He didn't want to seem weak or needy (a consequence of his upbringing with
the Dursleys no doubt), but… well, it wasn't like he hadn't already let down his
barriers around Bill. Merlin, he'd just cried himself out in the man's arms, in his
lap. He blushed a little as he realised the situation, but didn't move.

"She asked me why didn't I save them," he whispered finally. "Her family, that is.
And I just felt… I dunno, that maybe she's right to ask."

"How do you figure that?"

"Well they died because of the Death Eaters. And the Death Eaters are out killing
people because of Voldemort. And Voldemort's still around because of me. Because I
haven't defeated him yet. People are dying because I haven't done my job."
"Your job? Harry, defeating him - that's not your job," he objected.

The younger wizard hesitated. Dumbledore hadn't exactly forbidden him from telling
anyone, but Harry realised the knowledge wasn't meant for the general public.

"Can you keep a secret?" he finally asked in a whisper.

A grip on his chin forced his face upwards and blue eyes stared consideringly into
his own green orbs. He made an effort to put all seriousness into his expression
and finally Bill nodded.

"Yes, I can," he said simply and Harry swallowed before taking a breath.

"The prophecy from the Department of Mysteries that the Order was guarding? It went
like this: The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… ," he began
to recite, " Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month
dies… And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark
Lord knows not… And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live
while the other survives… The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be
born as the seventh month dies. "

Bill just stared at him, then brushed fingertips over his lightning bolt scar,
causing him to shiver.

"'Mark him as his equal'," he muttered, then "Your birthday is the last day of
July… 'as the seventh month dies'." He took a deep breath before releasing it. "I'm
guessing your parents 'defied' You-Know-Who three times?"

Harry nodded silently.

"Merlin Harry," he swore, "that's a fucking mountain of a task."

Harry snorted at the unexpected profanity.

"Yeah," he agreed, "pretty much."

"Well no wonder you lost it for a bit there. I'd have been tearing my hair out by
now."

"I just want to get out there and do something. How am I supposed to defeat
Voldemort from behind Hogwarts walls?"

"Harry," he said seriously, "I don't think you're ready." Then, as the boy looked
set to object, he said, "No, just listen. The prophecy, it talks about a 'power the
Dark Lord knows not', right?" he asked and Harry nodded. "Well have you figured out
what it is yet?"

"Well, Dumbledore says it's love or something." He wrinkled his nose. "But I don't
know. I can't exactly hug him to death."

"So that's a no then. Well what happens if you go and face him, and because you've
not figured out this power, you lose. That leaves everyone else pretty screwed,
doesn't it?" he pointed out calmly. "Really, your responsibility right now isn't to
defeat him, it's to figure out how. And I take it the training is your way of
trying to do so?"

Harry bit his lip and nodded. He hated to admit it but Bill was right. His
responsibility right now should be to 'figure out how'. He latched onto that. He
wasn't ready to face Voldemort yet, but he was preparing. That counted for
something right?

"Come on Harry," Bill nudged. "It's getting beyond cramped under this desk. Besides
it's late. You should probably be heading up to Gryffindor tower by now."

He climbed out of the redhead's lap and crawled out from under the desk, the other
wizard following. As then they stood there facing one another. Harry shifted
awkwardly on his feet, fiddling with the sleeve of his robes. Bill just stood
silently, waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say.

"Thank you," he finally blurted out. "For coming to find me and- well just
everything. Thanks."

Then he made and abortive move to hug Bill, before realising what he was about to
do and holding back. The redhead caught the movement however and swept forward,
pulling him into a firm embrace.

"Anytime Harry," he said, smiling warmly as they separated. "Now get on back to
your dorm."

Thursday, October 31, 1996

That night started a tradition of sorts for the pair. Every evening before
training, they would meet up in that same classroom and sit together on the floor
(though they had abandoned the cover of the desk as it really was too cramped).
While there, they would talk about everything and nothing, and Bill would convince
Harry to open up and share his fears and pains so that he could try to sooth them
away with understanding and insightful logic. Eventually, he would even share
things about himself in return. It was a very healing time for the boy hero - who
really was not a boy any longer so much as a young man - and the two grew even
closer.

It was also strange time; Ron and Hermione had been his best friends for so long,
that it took him by surprise to find how much closer a friendship could be. But the
fact of the matter was that with Bill things were so much more comfortable. He felt
at ease opening himself up to the older wizard in a way that he never had with the
first two friends. He found himself sharing things that he'd previously kept
bottled inside because he didn't want to deal with Hermione's well meaning but
discomforting prying or Ron's awkwardness and tactless moments.

That is not to say that all was well with the boy-who-lived's heart and mind. No,
indeed not, for the nightmare visions of Voldemort's nefarious activities had yet
to stop. There had been a calm after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. But
that was because, Dumbledore explained, Voldemort had been weakened by his
possession of Harry and thus out of commission for a time. Soon enough though, they
started again. They never gave him any crucial information; Voldemort was wise
enough to employ Occlumency unless he actually wanted Harry to see what he was up
to. And those visions he did share were all the same; attacks and tortures and
death and misery. It was enough to make anyone despair, and he often woke crying
from the nightmares.

Harry tried his best to ignore the dreams, but things reached a head on the night
of October thirty-first. He felt uneasy all throughout the day, as one waiting for
the knife to fall. After all, he had rarely had an uneventful Halloween in the
wizarding world. When he was one, Voldemort attacked and his parents died; when he
was eleven, a troll was let into the school and he, Hermione and Ron almost died;
at twelve Ginny, possessed by diary Riddle, perpetrated her first Basilisk attack
on Filch's cat; in third year, Sirius gave them all a good scare by attacking the
portrait of the Fat Lady; and at fourteen, Harry's name was drawn from the Goblet
of fire. Only last year had it been a quiet day, if you could consider any day
under Umbridge's reign quiet, but he knew better than to hope that his bad luck
wouldn't resume this year.

And so, as morning turned toward afternoon turned toward evening, he only became
more and more tense. Finally it was time to head to bed. Harry slipped under the
covers of his four poster feeling conflicted. His instincts told him something bad
had still to occur, whilst logic told him the day was over, and he had made it
through unscathed. He eventually drifted off to a restless sleep.

Three hours later Harry woke the entire dorm with his screaming and crying and
thrashing about. Ron raced to his bedside.

"Harry! Wake up!" he yelled, shaking him urgently.

Harry jerked to wakefulness with a stifled scream and stared blearily at his four
roommates who were crowded around his bed looking very worried indeed.

"Merlin Harry," Seamus whispered. "What the hell was that? Another one of your
vision thingies?"

He nodded dumbly. The fact that he got dreams from Voldemort was open knowledge
amongst these boys (it was a bit hard to keep his nightmares secret when they
shared a room) but they didn't spread it around. Still, it was rare that they got
as bad as they had tonight.

"Harry?" Neville asked in concern as he remained silent. "Will you be okay? Should
we fetch a teacher or someone?"

He shook his head, "No, no point now. It's all done. Voldemort" they flinched, "was
just sending me today's highlights. 'S Halloween, you know. He decided to throw a
party for the anniversary of my parents' deaths." He rubbed his hands over his face
and his voice was muffled through his palms. "I don't thank him for it. Wasn't my
sort of party. Too much blood and screaming."

The others paled at his words and shifted awkwardly, unsure what to do.

"Harry-" Ron started but he interrupted.

"Go to bed guys. There's nothing we can do. I'll talk to Dumbledore in the
morning."

Friday, November 1, 1996

"Harry, what brings you to my office today?" Dumbledore greeted him cheerfully as
he entered the room. "Lemon drop?"

"Hello headmaster. And no, thank you," he greeted the man and declined the sweet as
he took a seat. "I'm afraid it's not good news. Voldemort sent me a vision last
night."

"Oh?" the aged wizards gaze sharpened. "Anything we can turn to our advantage?"

"No," Harry said faintly, closing his eyes tightly as memories of his terrible
dreams flooded his mind.

"Harry?" Dumbledore rose from his chair and rounded his desk, laying a hand on the
boy's shoulder. "Are you not well?"
"The- the visions Voldemort sent me…"

And then he went on to explain just what they had been about, giving only enough
detail so that the headmaster could understand how terrible it had been. Unlike
last night, he was now dry eyed at what he had seen. Instead of feeling sad and
hopeless he just felt terribly angry. How could Voldemort be such a monster? He
clenched his fists tightly where they rested by his sides.

Dumbledore was grim and bleak as he listened, his compassionate gaze conveying that
he understood and Harry need not be more specific. He took the seat beside Harry
and folded his hands in his lap, looking very old.

"I feel a failure, that I cannot think of a solution to this my boy. There is no
advantage in you sharing this connection with Voldemort; not now that he knows of
it and guards against it. And to be perfectly honest," he shook his head, "I don't
believe I could ask you to maintain it even if there were advantage to be had. It
is a terrible burden upon you, especially when you are already carrying such a
heavy load."

"It's alright headmaster. You tried, getting Snape to teach me Occlumency and all,"
he said but winced at the memory of the painful lessons. "It's my fault. I didn't
practice. Maybe I should try it again?"

But Dumbledore shook his head. "No, I think not. I have spoken to Severus about
your lessons with him and even considering your less than enthusiastic efforts, you
should have made some progress. We can only conclude that you are naturally
unsuited to the art. It happens sometimes and in such cases further teaching could
do more harm then good."

"Then there's nothing that can be done?" Harry asked desperately and the older
wizard sighed, before looking thoughtful.

"I can only think Harry, to ask others for suggestions and advice. I may have
accumulated much knowledge in my many years, but I readily confess I do not know
everything. With your permission I would like to share the situation with your four
trainers. Would that be alright?"

"Sure. Anything."

"Very good. Perhaps they will have some insights that could help."

Wednesday, November 6, 1996

"Good evening Mr Potter," he was greeted as he entered the Room Of Requirement.

"Good evening Healer Vance," he replied in kind.

The room was set up like an infirmary, all bright and white, with a hospital bed in
one corner and medicinal potions and texts on shelves all about the room. In
another corner there was set up a potions workstation, and near the door there was
a sitting area. Vance gestured him to one of the stiff armchairs there and he took
a seat.

"I have something off topic to explain to you, before we get to training today,"
she said in her usual formal tones.

"Ma'am?"
"Headmaster Dumbledore has spoken to us about your visions," she explained, "and
after some consideration, I have a possible solution."

Harry's eyes went wide and he straightened in his seat. A possible solution? A
possible end to these terrible nightmares?

"What is it?" he asked eagerly.

"Have you ever heard of dream-catchers, Mr Potter?"

"It sounds familiar, but I'm not sure," he said, frowning.

"I first read about them in Medimagic Journal. It was a small article, in the
mental heath chapters, and it spoke of a Native American magical device made
traditionally of sinew strands woven in a web about a small rounded frame of
willow. Hanging from the frame are various feathers and beads." She shook her head
with pursed lips. "It all sounds very woolly and questionable, and I don't confess
to any knowledge of just how it functions, but these devices can quite literally
'capture' dark dreams. Originally they were hung over the beds of children to
protect them from bad dreams, but the journal article wrote that some healers had
adapted them for use in cases with witches and wizards who had gone through a
traumatic event. Dream-catchers were used to keep the nightmares at bay."

"And you think this will keep away my Voldemort visions?" he asked, fascinated and
hopeful.

"I cannot say for certain, but I believe it's worth trying. I've asked a colleague
of mine in America to acquire one for me," she said, before standing from her chair
abruptly. "Now, I believe we were to work on brewing the Blood-Replenishing
Potion."

It was a week before the dream-catcher made its way into Harry's hands, and in the
meantime his dreams had continued, albeit none so horrific as those on Halloween.
At first sight of the device he thought that it didn't seem very magical. All the
same though, he set it up, hanging from his bed canopy so that it dangled above his
head, and then drifted off to sleep.

When he awoke the next morning his attention had been drawn to a silvery light.
Looking up in shock he'd discovered that the web of strings were coated with a
silvery substance. It was just as Healer Vance had told him - nightmare memories
clung to the net, waiting to be removed.

There were two ways of doing this. The first, disposing of the dream, was to shake
the dream-catcher so that the silvery matter came loose and dissipated in the air.
The second method was to use your wand to draw it in strands from the web, like the
silvery filaments of memory Harry had seen Dumbledore pull from his temple. These
could then be either preserved in a vial or put into a Pensieve for viewing.

Of course, since he needed to be sure it was a Voldemort vision that was captured,
and not a regular nightmare, he had teased the dream memories into a vial and
promptly made his way to the headmaster's office. There Dumbledore had him deposit
the strands into his Pensieve which he tapped to project the contents in the air
above.

As both stared at the vision of a family of Muggles murdered in outer London, their
reactions were split between sadness and anger at the needless deaths, and
happiness and relief that Harry would no longer have to experience the emotionally
and physically painful visions from Voldemort firsthand.
 Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).

Progress

Posted : 12 December, 2009

Disclaimer : I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the
Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original
characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright
infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any
way.

Chapter 6 - Progress

Saturday, February 15, 1997

The rest of the year passed by, with school and training and teaching the D.A.
Christmas break came and Harry joined the Weasleys and Hermione at Grimmauld Place.
At first it was painful being stuck in a house that reminded him so vividly of
Sirius, for all that his godfather hated the place. And indeed, up until he
returned to Hogwarts, little things would unexpectedly remind him of the man, both
good memories and bad.

Despite this he was glad he decided to go. It was nice to catch up with Remus. The
man clearly missed his friend dearly, but to Harry's surprise a certain
Metamorphmagus seemed set on making sure the old wolf didn't wallow. When he first
outright asked Tonks if he and Remus were dating, she'd flushed bright red with
hair to match and denied his suspicions.

To his delight, he managed to trump Tonks in almost all of their flirting matches
during the holiday, by simply turning his comments onto the topic of her and Remus
(though of course Bill was often around to tease and embarrass him extra to make up
for it). Privately he wished her luck in her wooing of the werewolf. He didn't
think the feelings were one sided; he'd noticed the way Remus's eyes seemed to
drift to her more often than not.

Before too long it was back to Hogwarts and the now usual routine. Harry's training
was going very well, his abilities growing in leaps and bounds. He was also quite
pleased with the progress of his D.A. students. Although none of them had been in
real combat recently, he felt confident that if necessary, they would prove to be
more than capable of defending themselves and others.

This belief was put to the test in February during the Valentine's Hogsmeade
weekend. Harry and his friends had agreed to go together, none having a romantic
other (Ginny had split amicably from Dean and was single once more). They were all
bar one waiting near the Hogwarts front doors, ignoring the suspicious glares of
Filch.

"I wonder what's taking Neville so long," Harry wondered aloud.

"Yeah, I want to go to Honeydukes before all the good stuff's taken," groused Ron.

"He won't be long," Ginny said with a grin and a knowing tone.

Before Harry could question her about it, their missing member appeared. But to
Harry's surprise he wasn't alone. He was walking down the staircase side by side
with Lavender Brown. The pair were chatting, seemingly caught up in their
conversation, and as Lavender let out a laugh Harry reflected that it was the
happiest he'd seen her since Parvati had left Hogwarts.

"Oh, hi guys," Neville said as they reached the group. "Sorry I'm late. I invited
Lavender along with us. I hope that's okay."

"I can meet up with someone else if it's a problem," the curly blonde haired witch
said nervously.

"Don't be silly," Hermione immediately assured her. "You're more than welcome."

Hermione had an expression of understanding and Luna was staring between the pair
with a dreamy smile.

"Unless you and Neville wanted to go alone," Ginny said cheekily causing boy in
question to blush.

"Come on," Ron huffed, annoyed at the delays. "Let's go."

It wasn't till an hour later, as the group wandered down the main street of
Hogsmeade, that Harry finally realised what his three female friends had already
understood. The way Neville and Lavender always walked so close together, that they
bent their heads towards one another to speak, the way that Neville occasionally
reverted to his old shy self, and the fact that Lavender looked happier than she
had been for a long while. It was all fairly obvious now that he thought about it.
As Ginny engaged Lavender in a talk about hair charms, Luna adding odd comments
here and there, whilst Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Ron,
Harry lagged behind a little to talk to Neville.

"I didn't know you and Lavender were dating," he said quietly, and the other boy
promptly blushed bright red and began shaking his head.

"I- wha- I mean, no!" he yelled then quietened when the others looked back at them.
"We aren't dating," the flustered boy denied. "We're just friends."

Harry was sceptical but didn't press. Perhaps he was mistaken. He wasn't really
very perceptive about these sorts of things. Still, it was a surprise even to know
the pair were friends, though their interaction all day had certainly spoke of a
familiarity.

"When did that happen?" he asked, referring to the friendship.

"After what happened with the Patil's. Lavender just really needed someone to talk
to, and I'm a good listener. And since we seemed to get along well, we just kept
meeting up together."

Before the conversation could go any further there was a chorus of popping noises
and then screams. Harry's eyes widened in alarm. Death Eaters were attacking
Hogsmeade.

Immediately, Harry went for his wand, Neville copying his actions. He quickly
raised a shield as a jet of grey light headed toward them, recognising it as a bone
breaking curse. Unfortunately the curse gave time for three masked attackers to
convene on their position and they were separated from Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna
and Lavender who hurried ahead to defend a group of elderly wizards who were
walking by up near the owl office.

"It's Potter," one of the three attackers crowed. "Oh, the praise we'll get from
the master for taking you down."
And then the battle was on. It was three on two, but the Death Eaters weren't the
most highly trained. The two boys cursed and shielded and dived and dodged. Harry,
the strongest offensively, had soon brought down one of the masked men with a
Reducto. Neville meanwhile, a solid defensive dueller, focussed on defending the
pair of them, leaving Harry free to attack. In this the Death Eaters' seemingly
limited repertoire proved advantageous. At first Harry, with his extra training,
was the only one of the pair to know which shields blocked which curses. Neville
paid close attention to his castings however, and was soon blocking most every
curse that came their way. Just then a fleeing villager bumped into the remaining
two enemies. The distraction was just what was needed and Neville and Harry cast
simultaneous Stunners, bringing them down.

"Lavender and the others," Neville huffed. "We need to make sure they're alright."

They hurried down the street, taking down a lone Death Eater as they went. They
also ran into Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley as they ran, who joined their
numbers. Finally as they neared Honeydukes they heard familiar voices crying out
spells.

"They're pinned down inside Honeydukes," Harry said.

There were no less than seven Death Eaters attacking the building and those trapped
within. As one sent a curse which ripped through the front of the shop, they all
winced.

"We need to take them out and defend the store."

"There's something I can do," Neville said, a look of determination overcoming his
face. "You three attack them from behind. I need the distraction."

"But Neville, it's too-"

"Lavender's in there," he hissed.

Then, before they could object further, he edged forward toward the storefront. He
didn't look set to stop either, and Harry knew he needed to get that distraction
going before Neville tried whatever he planned without waiting for them to do their
part.

"Come on guys," he addressed Susan and Justin. "Get ready. I have a spell in mind.
It should give us a few seconds of open fire."

The three rounded behind the Death Eaters and without pausing to second-guess
himself, Harry stepped forward and raised his wand.

"Micosono!" he yelled, knowing silent casting wouldn't be powerful enough for this
spell.

The Flashbang Jinx exploded at the seven Death Eaters, blinding and deafening them,
and they all cringed visibly, crying out in pain. Even as he, Susan and Justin
began flinging jinxes, hexes and curses at the disabled attackers, he could see
Neville beyond them, running toward Honeydukes.

"Is he mad?" Justin yelled from beside him. "What's he think he's doing?"

Harry was of the same opinion. The young wizard had put himself clear in the open,
and the effects of the Flashbang Jinx would wear off at any moment. In fact… the
Death Eaters began to regain control of their senses and started defending
themselves. Harry prayed that the three of them could draw their attention for long
enough, but it was not to be. One of the masked attackers suddenly spotted Neville
and spun around.

"Avada Kedavra!" they cried.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion. Harry's heart skipped a beat and he heard a
scream. Lavender, he realised peripherally; his friends were peering through the
windows, no doubt having wondered why the barrage had stopped. But he paid that
fact little notice, because a familiar jet of green light was careening towards
Neville.

Rather than duck or dodge, as he prayed he would, Harry watched as Neville did
something entirely expected. He whirled to face the oncoming curse, bracing his
wand forward.

"Fossa Obex!" Neville bellowed.

One second the young wizard was just standing there, the curse approaching, and the
next there was a great ripping sound and earth was flying. The Trench Shield!
Neville Longbottom had just cast the Trench Shield - a very advanced and powerful
spell which quite literally tore a trench into the earth. Harry gaped for a moment,
rather impressed, before mentally smacking himself for getting distracted and
resuming the fight.

Dodging a Crucio and casting back a Finger Breaking Hex, he realised just what
Neville's plan had been. With the way the Trench Shield piled dirt up high on the
front side, it shielded Honeydukes from attack. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna and
Lavender, along with two other D.A. members who had been in the store (Terry Boot
and Anthony Goldstein), appeared to have taken advantage of that fact to sneak out
of the store, because the next thing Harry knew they were popping up behind the
wall, casting spells at their attackers before ducking back behind cover.

Before too long the group of Death Eaters had only two still standing. Two jets of
light from off to the left caught them by surprise and both went down. Harry spun
in that direction and was relieved to see a pair of wizards wearing the trademark
red uniform of the Aurors. Reinforcements had arrived.

Death Eaters neutralised, the pair continued up the street, no doubt to search out
further attackers. From what Harry could see however, the fighting was pretty much
over.

As those that had been caught in Honeydukes clambered over and around the trench, a
voice called out to him.

"Potter!" it said, and he spun to see Moody and Tonks approaching

"Wotcher Harry," Tonks greeted, staring wide eyed at the hole in the earth.
"Merlin's frilly white knickers, is that what I think it is?"

"It's a Trench Shield," Moody said, looking appreciatively at the results of the
spell. "I'd say it was your work Potter, but you don't looked drained enough to
have cast that little number."

"It was Neville." He pointed to his friend as he spoke. The tired looking boy was
fussing over a cut on Lavender's cheek.

"It was just from the glass window shattering," she said, though she clung to his
arm.
"Longbottom?" Moody asked, drawing Neville's attention. "Alice and Frank's boy?"

"Er, yes sir," the boy in question replied, and Moody gave him an assessing look.

"That was a heavy bit of spell work you did. Ever consider becoming an Auror?"

Neville was flustered and flattered by the undeniably impressed tone of the ex-
Auror's voice. He deserved the praise though; the young wizard had really come into
his own compared to his formerly fumbling attitude.

Beside Neville, Lavender had a slight rosiness to her cheeks as she looked up at
her friend. Admiration was in her gaze and a proud smile on her face. To himself,
Harry reflected that even if the relationship between the two was merely friendship
before today, if Lavender had her way it would be more than that soon enough.

After checking to make sure his friends were all fine and well (the only injuries,
through fortune, were those caused by flying debris) Harry looked around seeing
that D.A. members up and down the street were converging on their position, wands
still drawn and speaking about how they'd fought and defended Hogsmeade and it's
inhabitants. He felt a swell of pride at their efforts. They'd been learning so
well and at this, the first test of their skills, they'd excelled.

As he looked around again, Harry spotted something strange and realised that
Neville and Lavender weren't the only couple in the making today. He watched subtly
as Ron stood before Hermione, gripping her upper arms and looking her over
worriedly.

"I'm fine Ron, really," she tried to reassure him.

"That nasty orange hex only missed you by a hair, Mione."

She nodded grimly. "Organ Liquefaction Curse. You could tell by the sickly orange
colouring and the sparks of yellow," she lectured but Ron wasn't listening, having
paled at her first words.

"Organ… liquefaction…" he muttered. "You could have died. Could have died and I'd
never've…"

"Ron?" She leaned closer to him, concern painted on her features. "Are you okay?"

The next thing anyone knew Ron's face had taken on a strange expression and he
leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. There was a moment when Hermione
seemingly didn't know how to respond. Ron started to draw back though, and she
burst into action, pulling him back in, and then the two were kissing like their
lives depended on it.

It was wolf whistling and cheering that broke the moment. The pair broke apart to
see that everyone had turned to watch the scene. Hermione hid her face in Ron's
chest, whilst the freckled boy turned an unflattering shade of red.

"Good job big brother," Ginny called, grinning widely.

"Oh, yes," Luna said, a romantic smile on her face as she looked at the couple. "It
was far past time that you two stopped acting like fools and admitted you fancy the
pants off one another."

There was much agreement from the crowd, to the pair's further embarrassment.
Despite that though they had smiles on their faces. Until that is they turned to
Harry, as if to gauge his reaction. That was understandable; they'd been very much
a trio up till now, even with Neville, Ginny and Luna recently added to their
group. Harry couldn't bring himself to be anything other than pleased for them
however, and grinned.

"Like Luna said, it's about time," he told them and they broke into smiles once
more.

It wasn't till the next day later that the final reports came in. The Death Eater
attack on Hogsmeade had done considerable property damage. Despite all being in the
thick of the battle, none of Harry's students perished, though several were
injured. And, thanks to their efforts, the overall death toll amounted to only two
students and seven villagers. Any deaths were terrible news of course, but everyone
knew that it could have been far worse.

Friday, April 11, 1997

Two months later, Harry stood in the Room of Requirement, panting from exertion but
feeling much calmed from before. A lot of the tension he had been carrying had
drained away.

When first he had appeared in the classroom for their usual pre- training get
together, Harry had been terse and tense. Bill had calmly set about extracting an
explanation to his behaviour and Harry soon explained that the increase of attacks
with Voldemort personally present had him worried and angry.

"Right," Bill nodded, grabbing his hand and dragging him from the room. "Come on."

The redhead ignored his objections and questions, leading him toward the Room of
Requirement. Harry had stood bemused as his friend paced before the wall three
times till a door appeared.

"After you," he gestured, and Harry stepped inside.

The room that greeted him was nothing like he might have expected. One wall was
lined with glasses, crockery and porcelain knickknacks of all types. On the
opposite side of the room hung bats in various shapes and sizes; cricket bats,
baseball bats, lengths of pipe and all sorts. In the centre of the room was a stand
of some sort, and then, directly across from the door, there was a long blank
stretch of stone wall.

"What are we doing here?" he asked Bill.

"Stress relief," the man replied succinctly, before explaining. "You need to get
rid of all that tension before you explode. And I figure this is the safest way to
do it."

"I still don't understand."

"Smashing stuff, Harry. Grab something breakable and start chucking it at the wall.
Or if you want, set it on the stand, grab a bat and take a swing."

Harry stood there, feeling uncertain.

"Um, isn't this a bit dangerous?"

"Not at all." Bill shook his head. "I was very specific about the wards I
'required'. No one's going to get hurt from this."
After some prodding, Harry finally gave in. Feeling foolish he picked up a large
dinner plate then reared back and hurled it at the wall. As it smashed into little
pieces, he stood in shock. Merlin but that had felt good. The next thing he knew,
he was grabbing crockery left right and centre. Chucking it at the wall or else
setting it on the stand and trying out the bats. As he reigned down destruction,
Bill encouraged him to say what he was thinking and feeling and soon he was yelling
and swearing about how mad Voldemort made him, and how sick and twisted he was, and
how he just wanted it to be over.

"And how the hell," he screamed, "am I supposed to defeat him with love ! Huh? Can
you tell me that Dumbledore? But nooo, he's all eye-twinkly and, 'the answer will
come, my boy'. That's no bloody help!"

Eventually he'd run out of things to break and now he was stood panting. A bat hung
from one hand and he was a little surprised when Bill approached him. He'd just
gone a bit barmy and he was sure his eyes were still rather wild, but the man just
slung an arm around his shoulders, casual as you please. Harry dropped the bat,
leaning into his side.

"Feel better?"

And suddenly he was laughing, a little bit hysterically and with a wide grin on his
face. Bill smiled down at him and nodded, leading him from the room. He stood
propped up against the corridor wall as the redhead paced, requesting a new room,
and a few seconds later he was led into their usual training room, only instead of
two beanbags against the wall there was one large one. Bill immediately dropped
into it tugging him down beside him. He ended up pressed close to the man and
curled into his side, still laughing a little.

"See?" The older wizard nudged him. "You just needed to let it all out. That was
good, right?"

"Yeah." He nodded, laughter finally tapering off. "More than a little mad probably,
but yeah, it was good. I feel a lot better," he said then looked up teasingly at
his friend. "So Doctor Weasley, was that a medically approved therapy?"

"Doctor? Oh, you mean a Muggle Healer. Well yes, most certainly. 'Smashing stuff'
is a magically proven effective method of stress relief," he said pompously and
Harry snorted.

"You're so full of it." Then he sighed. "Some of the things I said though."

"Don't worry, I've heard worse language. And I promise not to tell mum. She'd wash
your mouth out with a soap spell."

He winced. "Er, thanks. But that's not what I meant." Then he explained, "I was
talking about what I said about Dumbledore and the 'power of love' thing. I didn't
really realise till I started raving, but I think that's what's been bothering me
the most. It's not like I can love Voldemort to death."

"Funny that, at work I've been de- cursing this old spell book, and cataloguing
spells found in it. One of them was called 'Love's Gift' or maybe 'Love's Power'.
The translation is a bit sketchy."

Harry straightened up suddenly, looking at Bill with eager eyes.

"A spell called 'Love's Power'? Bill, what if that's what I've been looking for?"

At his reaction, the eldest Weasley son paused, looking hesitant. His words had
obviously been meant as no more that a passing comment. He'd plainly not expected
Harry to latch onto it like that. And indeed, the younger wizard was latching on, a
look of desperate hope on his face.

"Look Harry, don't get your hopes up," he cautioned. "It's an old spell and it
needs a lot of work. We don't even really knew what it does." He paused then and
adopted a teasing air. "Honestly, 'Love's Power'? It could be an 'adult spell', if
you know what I mean."

But Harry was not to be dissuaded, and didn't even blush, let alone get distracted.

"Bill, please. I don't have any other leads. Can we at least try?"

He sighed. "Alright, fine. I'll see what I can do, and bring the info tomorrow. Can
you meet me here at about eleven o'clock?"

"No problem." He nodded rapidly. "I'll be there. Thank you Bill."

Tuesday, May 6, 1997

Bill turned up the next day, as promised, and they began working on the spell. It
was not an easy task by any means, and they started meeting every Saturday and
Tuesday, in addition to their usual Friday meetings, in order to work on it more,
though progress was minimal. It wasn't till early May that Bill finally put his
foot down.

"Urg," the redhead groaned, throwing down his quill.

"Bill?" Harry asked pleadingly.

He knew that this seemed to be going nowhere, but he needed the other man's
encouragement to keep him going. That was not to be however.

"This is pointless Harry. We're getting nowhere, and you're stretched way to thin."

"No, I'm fine!" he tried to defend.

"No, you're not. You have school work, homework, Quidditch, combat training with
Moody and Tonks, Medimagic training with Vance, warding training with me, planning
lessons and teaching the D.A., and now this as well. It's too much."

Harry sighed. "I've go to try. And what little we've managed so far seems
promising."

"Look Harry, I'm not suggesting we abandon it altogether, I'm just saying that
maybe this is too big a job for the two of us."

"What are you suggesting then?"

"I think we should bring this to the Order. Their whole purpose is to combat You-
Know-Who and his forces, and if this spell could help you bring him down… well I
think they'd be willing to work on it."

But Harry was far less certain. He was sure the Order would be a big help, but the
fact of the matter was that he didn't know them all well enough to know if they
were trustworthy. And that was to say nothing of…

"Snape," he said with distaste.

"Snape?"

"Yeah, I don't trust him." He shook his head decisively. "No, we can't take this
spell to the Order."

"But-"

"I have another idea though," he interrupted and Bill gestured that he continue.
"We take it to the D.A. instead."

It seemed like the perfect solution to him, but Bill was unsure.

"Harry, they're just students. I'm not sure if that's best."

Harry, defensive of what he felt were 'his people' immediately disagreed.

"I really think they could make some progress on it. There's some brilliantly
intelligent witches and wizards in the group. Hermione of course, and Luna, and
Susan Bones and Anthony Goldstein. That's not to mention the twins."

"Fred and George?" Bill asked, surprised.

"Yeah."

"But they left school. What are they doing in the group?"

"They mentioned over Christmas that they missed the D.A. and wished they could
brush up on their defence skills. I mentioned it to Moody, he vetted them, and they
were happy to be joining back up. They come to school every Sunday for the class."

Eventually, with a little more convincing, Harry managed to get Bill to agree to at
least let the D.A. give the spell a try. When the project was explained to them,
and he confessed that he thought it would help him defeat Voldemort (strangely, no
one was surprised at his implied assertion that he intended to be the one to take
the Dark Lord down), the entire D.A. proved quite enthusiastic. They were all
determined to help, and before he and Bill knew it, the students had agreed to
devote themselves to the spell research, not a single one grumbling about the fact
that it would eat into their free time.

Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).

Realising

Posted : 20 December, 2009

Disclaimer : I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the
Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original
characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright
infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any
way.

Chapter 7 - Realising

Wednesday, July 30 - Thursday, July 31, 1997

In less than two months it was the end of Harry's sixth year and he returned to the
Dursley's once more. As he prepared to leave Hogwarts, he was surprised to realise
that he expected to miss Bill immensely. They'd become quite close and he was not
looking forward to going so long without seeing him whilst he stayed with his
relatives.

And so was that Harry was delighted when, the first day of holidays, the man turned
up to spend the evening with him. Dudley's second bedroom was not nearly as cosy as
their classroom - which, in addition to the added security wards, had been
magically improved upon for comfort during its weeks of use - but Harry hardly
cared. He was just glad the curse-breaker was going to keep visiting as he'd become
a fast friend. And that was honestly all the young hero thought it was. Friendship.
That perspective was irrevocably altered however on the eve and day of his
seventeenth birthday.

The eldest Weasley brother had turned up on the evening of the thirtieth, laden
with presents.

"Hey Bill," Harry greeted him happily when he Apparated into the room. "Sit down.
Here, put those on the desk."

"Hi Harry. Decent haul you have this year."

"Yeah," Harry said, looking at the presents with awe (even after all these years at
Hogwarts it still stunned him to receive gifts). "How come you're delivering them?
Normally they all owl in at midnight."

"Well, Errol's getting on a bit so Mum asked if I could bring hers with me when I
dropped by. We were in the kitchen at headquarters at the time, and everyone else
thought it was a good idea - more secure than owl mail you see. So next thing I new
I was being tasked by Ron, Hermione, Remus, Tonks, Moody, Vance and even
Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore got me something?" he asked, surprised, and reached toward the pile of
gifts.

"Hey, no opening till your birthday," Bill tsk'ed, slapping his hands away.

"But it's only a few hours away." He pouted, but Bill held firm.

"It doesn't matter. You have to wait."

Harry sighed but backed down, retreating to his bed where they both sat facing one
another, one at the head of the bed and the other at the foot. He wiggled his leg
as Bill's fingers tapped a rhythm on his ankle which rested by the older wizard's
side.

"How was training today? You had Medimagic with Vance, right?"

"Yep. We're working on medical stasis spells."

"Really?" Bill raised an impressed eyebrow. "That's pretty advanced."

"And hard. Believe me, I know. I'm just glad she had us practicing on transfigured
rats first, rather than live people."

"Why's that?"

"For safety she said, and she was justified. My first attempt melted the 'patient',
the second one petrified it, and somehow the third one set the rat on fire. It's
not funny! I got it right eventually. Stop laughing!" he ordered, crossing his arms
and feeling embarrassed. "Humph, I'd like to see you do better."

"Sorry," Bill finally apologised. "It's just that when you get a spell wrong you
really do it in style."

" Bill !"

"Okay, I'll stop now."

Not wanting to discuss his less than stellar training session any further, he
changed the subject.

"So, what's new on the war front?" he asked and the older wizard sobered.

"Mostly just the usual: attacks almost daily, with the Aurors and the Order
managing to prevent some, but not others. There is one big bit of news though.
There was a change in leadership in the giant clans - the old leader was killed.
And not by someone bigger and uglier like usual. The new leader - Ogog - is smart
more than anything. He courted allies in the clan to back his takeover. It's very
advanced strategy for giants."

"They're normally 'bash, kill', and 'me bigger, me better', aren't they?"

Bill nodded. "Not terribly flattering, but pretty accurate. Anyway, Hagrid and
Olympe made contact with Ogog, and managed to secure the giants' neutrality."

"That's good, right?"

"Yeah. Since the Death Eaters were first to send out envoys to them, there was some
worry that they'd win them over. We may not have convinced them to join our side
but it's a load off everyone's minds to know they're not going to You-Know-Who's
either."

"Yeah," Harry said, remembering his fright at first meeting Hagrid's massive half-
brother Grawp. "We really don't want to be facing giants in battle."

"Oh, I almost forgot," Bill said suddenly. "You owe me a thank you."

It was some time later. Bill was still seated at the head of the bed, albeit
slumped down, head resting against a cushion set against the headboard, one leg
tucked up and the other dangling off the side of the bed. Harry meanwhile, ever
restless, had shifted around so that he lay sideways at the foot of the bed. His
legs hung off one side and his head off the other, as the mattress really wasn't
wide enough for his position.

"I do?" he asked. "What for?"

Bill shifted slightly reaching into his back pants pocket. As he did so his
extended leg swung backward and forward a bit, and Harry batted at it playfully,
trying to catch it by the heel.

"Ah, here we go," the redhead announced, and he looked over to see the man holding
what looked like a photograph. "Got it from the twins, who confiscated it from
Colin Creevey." Bill paused and tilted his head to one side. "I won't imagine what
Creevey was doing with it. Still, disturbing as that is, it's not as worrying as
what Fred and George had planned."

"What?" he asked, confused at what could be so worrisome. "It's probably a photo

right? Colin's forever taking photographs, particularly of me. Especially when he
first got to Hogwarts. He must have a ton of pictures of my mug by now." He
shrugged. "Why's this one more disturbing that the usual?"

"Well," Bill drawled slowly.

Their was such a hidden wealth of meaning in that tone that Harry heaved himself
into up into a sitting position, view switching dizzyingly from upside-down to
right-side-up as he did so.

"Well what?" he asked, quite curious now.

"The twin's were thinking of printing up posters of the picture to sell. I don't
think they were entirely serious but they could've made a mint from it, so I
figured better safe than sorry. As I said, you owe me many and profuse thanks."

"Damn it Bill, just tell me already," he demanded.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present," the other wizard said dramatically, waving the
picture about with a smirk on his face, "exclusive photographic imagery, of the one
and only boy-who-lived, au naturel ."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Wait, you don't mean-" he squeaked, but Bill's smirk just got
wider. "Give me that!"

He reached out to grab the photo but the redhead held it away from him. Harry
leaned further forwards.

"Nope, I think I'll just hold onto it. Maybe the twins had the right idea."

"Bill, I'm serious!" Harry shouted.

Still the redhead would not hand over the picture and a scuffled ensued. Harry
dived for it, landing half on top of Bill who let out an 'oomph', but managed to
hold his hand back above his head, beyond Harry's reach. The younger wizard
scrambled upright then, into a seated position, braced one hand on the body beneath
him and leapt for the photo. He managed to tear it from Bill's grasp, landing back
with a thump that once again stole the redhead's breath.

Turning his prize over in his hand, Harry finally got a look at the photograph, and
squawked in indignation. A part of him had been hoping it was all a joke, but there
it was, in full colour; Harry Potter standing naked under the Quidditch changing
room showers. He supposed it could have been worse. At least it wasn't a frontal
shot… okay, no, he was kidding himself. He was in no way okay with this.

"Colin that git - I'll kill him! No, even better than that, I'll transfigure his
camera into a snake. He loves that thing, and he's terrified of reptiles." He
nodded, a vengeful expression on his face. "Yes, that's what I'll do."

There was no response from Bill and he realised the older wizard had been silent
for a bit too long. He looked down and blinked in surprise at what he saw. There
was an odd look on the redhead's face.

"Bill?" he asked.

But then, suddenly, he realised the position they were in. Bill was laid out flat
on his bed and he was sat, straddling his hips. Bill's hands had fallen to rest on
his upper thighs, and his own free hand was pressed against a bare, toned abdomen,
when his friend's shirt had rucked up.
This all catalogued, he promptly turned a bright red, let out a 'meep' and
scrambled backwards, hopping off the bed. Once he was halfway across the room, he
spun around. Bill was still lying there, still with that strange expression as he
stared after him. After a moment though it cleared and he straightened up into a
cross-legged position. Harry used the excuse of hiding the confiscated photo to
turn away, tucking it into his trunk. Then he turned back and an awkward silence
ensued.

" So," he said, wincing at the 'desperate to appear normal and failing miserably'
tone to his voice, "how about them Cannon's?"

"Merlin, don't tell me Ron's converted you to a Chudley Cannon's fan," Bill said.

Harry sighed in relief that his friend was taking the subject changer that he
offered. He assured the redhead that he was not a Cannon's fan, but rather leaned
toward the Falmouth Falcons because their motto - 'Let us win, but if we cannot
win, let us break a few heads' - rather amused him. From there they segued into a
lively debate about who was promising for the League competition and Harry relaxed,
reassured that that strange moment was forgotten.

"What do you want to do after Hogwarts?"

Conversation had switched from Quidditch through a number of other topics. Harry
had finally returned to the bed, though he and Bill remained cross-legged at
opposite ends this time.

"After Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "I don't know."

"Didn't you have careers advice fifth year? What did you tell McGonagall?"

"I said I was interested in being an Auror."

"Well, from what I've seen of your duelling and combat sessions and what Tonks and
Moody have said about your skill, I think you'd definitely be good at it."

"Maybe…" He trailed off and Bill looked at him questioningly.

"What is it?" he prodded.

"It's just… well sometimes I wonder if I'll even live long enough to find out," he
confessed in a rush.

He waited then for Bill to either get angry at him for thinking so negatively, or
pitying toward him for his situation, or perhaps offer false platitudes that
everything would work out. Those were the sort of responses Ron and Hermione would
give. None of them helped. But Bill surprised him by taking none of those routes.

"Maybe you won't," he said looking a bit distressed beneath his usual calm, and
surprising Harry with his honesty. "But there's this Muggle saying I've heard of:
'he who does not hope to win has already lost'. And Harry, neither you nor any of
us can afford to lose this war. It won't be easy and odds are against you, but you
have so many people behind you, and I really think if you try hard enough you can
do it. So you need to keep those fears controlled and focus on more productive
thoughts, like winning and all you have to fight for."

Harry just stared, taking in what he had said. Bill knew him very well for how
short an amount of time they'd been friends. Everything he said was exactly what he
needed to hear, but at the same time he knew the other wizard wasn't just saying it
just because it was what he wanted to hear. No, Bill believed what he was saying,
and as he sat there Harry took the advice in and assimilated it. He was right.
There was too much riding on this war. He needed to focus on winning, not dwell on
pessimistic 'what ifs'.

"Yeah," he finally spoke, "you're right."

"Good," Bill said heartily. "Now in the spirit of what I said, and focussing on the
positive, let's assume you're going to survive this war intact and kick You-Know-
Who's pasty white arse," Harry snorted incredulously at this but the redhead
continued unabated. "And then after that you'll have a life to live. What are you
going to do with it? Aside from the whole 'what if you don't survive' thing, was
there any other reason you don't want to be an Auror anymore?"

Harry considered it.

"I guess that I feel like, so much of my life's been about fighting to survive.
Maybe, if-" At Bill's pointed look he corrected himself. "When - when I finally
defeat Voldemort, I don't think I'll want to become an Auror, only to have to fight
some more."

"You want some peace," Bill said understandingly.

"Does that make me a coward?" he asked guiltily, but the other man shook his head.

"No," he said firmly. "It definitely doesn't. I think a lot people will be wanting
peace once it's all over. So… is there anything else that interests you, if you've
decided against being an Auror?"

"I'm not sure. I've never really thought about it," Harry said, tilting his head to
one side as he considered. "The two things I like most I suppose are flying and-"
He paused, throwing his companion a look. "Well just recently, since you've started
teaching me, warding's become a favourite too."

Bill smiled. "You're definitely a natural warder."

"And flyer. It was instinct from the first time I got on a broom."

"So, Ward Caster or Quidditch Player then?"

"Maybe." He shrugged. "But like I said, I'm a natural at both, so I'm not sure if
they'd be challenging enough. I wouldn't want to get bored."

"Well you've still got a whole year of Hogwarts left. You've plenty of time to
think of some other job that you'd enjoy," Bill assured him, then looked toward his
wrist before starting in surprise. "Merlin, look at the time. It's just past
eleven. You'll probably be wanting to go to sleep by now."

But Harry shook his head.

"I can't go to sleep yet, it's my birthday soon," he said, and at Bill's confusion
explained, "It's a tradition I've had since… oh ages really. I always stay up the
night before my birthday to watch the clock turn over at midnight. Celebrate being
another year older and all that."

Bill glanced down at his watch, then at the electronic alarm clock nearby on the
drawers.

"Well, why don't I wait up with you? Keep you company?"

"Sure." Harry smiled. "I'd like that."

It was nearing midnight and Bill and Harry had changed positions once more. Side-
by-side on the carpet they sat, leaning against the rickety bed with shoulders and
arms brushing, and watching the alarm clock. The only light came from the red
glowing numbers on the clock, and the moon outside the window. Conversation had
become quiet and light-hearted and Harry found himself resting his head on his
companion's shoulder as he grew tired.

"One minute," Harry whispered.

They sat staring until finally, with a barely audible click, the clock switched
from eleven fifty-nine to midnight morn. Bill shifted beside him then, and wrapped
an arm around Harry's waist. He pulled him into a hug and the younger wizard went
willingly.

"Happy birthday," the redhead whispered in his ear.

As they pulled apart Harry tilted his head upwards from where it still rested on
the strong shoulder, intending to express his thanks. Before he could do more than
open his mouth however he paused, frozen in place as he gazed at the soft
expression on his friend's moonlit face. And then, without pausing to think on his
actions, he discarded his words and instead leant further forward and pressed his
lips to Bill's.

It was soft and chaste, just a whisper of a kiss really, and all too soon it was
over. Harry was wide eyed in surprise at his own actions, and doubts were beginning
to crash down upon him as Bill said nothing, just stared down at him with an
uncertain, thoughtful gaze. And then the arm was withdrawing from around him and
the redhead was pulling away.

"It's late," he said, voice neutral. "I should go and let you get some sleep."

"Bill-" he tried to object, though what he planned to do or say beyond that he

didn't know.

"I'll see you later Harry."

And then, with the soft 'pop' of Apparition, he was gone.

Harry was still sat staring when the tapping startled. It took him a moment to
realise it was owls at his window - probably birthday messages from Luna and
Neville - and he got to his feet on autopilot to let them in. Mechanically he
divested the birds of their mail, fed them a few owl treats, let them sip at
Hedwig's water bowl, and then sent them on their way. He then put the gifts and
letters down on his desk, and abruptly froze.

"I kissed Bill," he said in shock. "Bill, Ron's oldest brother. Brother as in a
boy. Or a man really. I kissed a guy."

He waited for self-disgust to rise, but it just wasn't happening. It didn't feel
wrong at all. He thought of Bill then; tall and toned, handsome features, cool
dress sense, elegant long-fingered hands, easy smile and soothing voice. He
definitely felt attraction. And still it didn't seem wrong. Well, he thought, I
guess I'm gay then. Or rather, he amended, remembering his crush on Cho, bisexual.
And surprisingly, he was okay with it.

Before he could become too excited about that, he remembered one depressing fact.
"I kissed him… and he left."

And just like that his mood plummeted. Oh god, what had he been thinking? He didn't
know whether Bill liked him that way, or if the man even liked guys like that at
all. Bill had become his best friend. He understood him in ways not even Ron and
Hermione did, and there was no one he felt more comfortable with. He could open up
to the redheaded man, share his fears, become vulnerable… something he'd never
really felt safe enough to do with anyone else. And then he had just gone and
kissed him, without thinking through the consequences. What if, he wondered
despairingly (hesitating to say it even in his thoughts), what if he'd ruined their
friendship for good?

Fears whirring about his mind, he walked over to his bed and dropped onto the
mattress, curling up in a ball atop the covers. Slowly he drifted off to sleep, but
with his worries it was far from restful.

"Merlin, what was I thinking?" Bill muttered to himself, his composure having
broken the moment he Apparated away. "And alright, he was the one that started it,
but I didn't exactly object. But his lips were so soft and- no! I should not be
thinking like that."

The eldest Weasley son was pacing back and forth in his room at Grimmauld Place
(the Weasleys having moved in last year, not feeling security at the Burrow
adequate). The door was locked and the room silence warded. This whole situation
was messing with his equilibrium and he didn't need to make a show for everyone of
him losing his cool. He plopped down in the tattered armchair in the corner of the
room, sitting bent forward with elbows on knees and hands cradling his head. His
fingers slid through his hair and he tugged at it with frustration.

"Let's just say it," he said. "I kissed Harry. Or Harry kissed me. We kissed.
Harry, your baby brother's best friend, who's just a child, you pervert," he
accused himself before sighing and shaking his head. "Okay, no, he's seventeen; of
age by any wizarding standards. Alright, it was only a few seconds into his
birthday that the kiss happened, but he was already seventeen. And Harry's mature
for his age. He'd have to be of course, what with everything he's gone through and
that task that's on his shoulders."

He sighed again, this time tinged with frustration, crossed his arms over his chest
and slumped in his chair, head tilted back to stare at the cobwebbed ceiling. There
was sadness and a little anger in his last words. It just wasn't fair that Harry
was so burdened. He was a good kid - he winced and corrected himself - guy, if
they'd kissed and he was contemplating it all, then he couldn't think of him as a
kid. He was a good guy and deserved better. Bill had faith that he'd pull through
for everyone though. It was rare that he'd seen someone who could be so determined.
So long as Harry turned that determination to winning and surviving, which Bill
thought he would after their talk a few hours earlier, then it should all work out.
Hopefully.

But he was getting off track. Harry and the kiss. It certainly didn't bother him
that Harry was a boy, rather than a girl. He'd had male and female lovers both. It
had shocked his family the first time he introduced them to a boyfriend, but they'd
been accepting in the end, so he wasn't worried about his family's reactions. So
what was worrying him here? It was a nice kiss. A little sweet and innocent, but
definitely nice. Maybe it was Harry then?

He thought of the young man. Messy ebony locks that you just itched to run your
fingers through, gorgeously vivid emerald eyes, soft pink lips, pale skin, a lean
almost delicate figure, but toned from Quidditch, and - he added, remembering that
photograph - he really did have the most lovely arse. And personality wise, he was
kind, modest, brave and loyal. He had a bit of a guilt complex at times though and
could be stubborn and reckless, but nobody was perfect. And he was already
practically one of the family; his parents loved Harry. He was a good
conversationalist too - or perhaps the two of them just clicked well; they could
talk for hours without running out of subjects to discuss. But in contrast, they
could also sit together in silence and not have it become awkward at all. He was
also a delight to tease. He blushed beautifully.

"Okay…" He blinked, going back over all his thoughts. "Okay, I'm definitely
attracted to him then, and not just on a superficial level. And given the fact that
he was the one to initiate the kiss, he's probably attracted to me. So what's the
problem?"

He considered that for a long moment, but nothing came to mind. He started to
smile. Harry was a gorgeous, kind, engaging wizard who he connected well with and
was likely interested in him. Ignoring the age gap which really, given how long
wizard-kind lived was not that terribly much, he was just about perfect for him. He
grinned a little stupidly, but with an air of determination. Right, first things
first, he needed to get some sleep. Then there was an Order meeting at four
o'clock. But after that…

"Watch out Harry Potter. Here I come."

Harry had slept fitfully but late, and woken up at a quarter past nine. As he laid
there he recalled all that had happened that morning. He gnawed at his lip as his
worries returned - worries that he'd ruined the best friendship he'd ever had.

Eventually he dragged himself from bed and headed downstairs for some breakfast
before closeting himself back upstairs in his room. Nothing else to do, and wanting
the distraction, he opened his birthday gifts. Hermione had sent him a book called
A Guide to Magical Careers . Ron had also sent a book surprisingly, but that was
explained by the title: Quidditch Through the Ages .

Neville had sent him a very nice set of duelling robes (a gift Moody would probably
approve of) and Luna had made him a rather colourful necklace of butterbeer corks,
feathers and bits of tin, which she promised would ward off the Wrackspurts. From
Ginny he received a rather ingenious potion which apparently, would cause his face
to develop fuzzily in any photographs taken of him. 'For when the paparazzi gets
too much' she said, and though he was thankful for such a thoughtful and ingenious
gift, he couldn't help wishing - remembering that damn picture Colin had taken -
that it protected his more 'private' areas instead.

From the adults, Mrs Weasley had sent him a decadent chocolate cake and Mr Wesley
had reminded him that as he was now of age, he was free to do magic, sending along
a little pamphlet entitled The Responsibilities of the Wand-Free Wizard . That
reminder had sent a little thrill through him, as he'd quite forgotten, but he
promised himself to read the booklet and act responsibly. He didn't want to end up
on trial again after all.

Then there was the gift from Professor Dumbledore. He'd gasped in shock and
disbelief as he peeled away the sparkling rainbow coloured wrapping paper to reveal
a Pensieve. True, it was smaller than the headmaster's - the little stone bowl
could be cradled in one hand, and would apparently only hold a single memory at a
time - but still… a Pensieve . They were very rare and he was in awe that
Dumbledore would find one for him.

After that he expected the gift from Remus and Tonks (he'd smiled knowingly at the
fact they'd done a combination gift - how couply) to seem rather mundane. He was
proven wrong however, when he opened it up to reveal a delicate necklace with a
beautifully detailed golden stag pendent. Remus explained it had been James's gift
to his mother on their first marriage anniversary. Tonks' addition to the gift had
been a strip of thin leather, with protection runes embossed along the length. Her
note said to thread the stag on the leather instead of the fine gold chain, so that
he could wear the pendant and still look manly.

The next two gifts were from Moody and Emmeline Vance. Moody had sent him an Auror
standard wand holster. Made of dragon hide and imbued with anti summoning charms,
fire protection and curse resistance, it was quite the practical gift. From Healer
Vance he received his second potion. It was a recent medical development, called
the Oculus Clarus Potion. When taken it would work over a period of two weeks to
correct deficiencies in vision. Excited, he swallowed it down at once, eagerly
anticipating the day soon when he would not have to wear his glasses any longer.

The last gift, which he'd hesitated to open, was of course the one from Bill. It
was thick, square and heavy and when he'd eventually opened it, he gaped in
surprise. The leather bound book was titled simply Warding by T. Wendergill, but
Harry knew it for what it was. This was considered the most comprehensive guide to
warding in the wizarding world. It cost a small fortune and was very hard to come
by; it was restricted sale to only Master Warders. Usually the only others to
acquire it were Apprentice Warders, as gifts from their Master. How Bill had
managed to find a copy boggled the mind, but Harry loved it.

After opening his gifts, Harry tried to distract himself further. He picked up
Warding first, but after about five minutes put it down. It was a fascinating read
but it reminded him constantly of Bill, which reminded him of the kiss, which made
him worry again - something he was trying to avoid. So then he moved onto the
Pensieve.

After going over a few of his more exciting memories (and had the Basilisk really
been that big?) he found himself returning to the topic he was trying not to think
on. No matter that he told himself not to dwell, he spent the next few hours
reliving his memories of Bill from last night and this morning. First into the bowl
was the odd 'moment' they'd had when he managed to steal the photograph from the
redhead. After seven views he was almost certainly not quite sure that was
attraction on Bill's features. And then he watched the kiss over and over. Still
short. Still chaste. And still sent Bill running. Really, watching it repeatedly
was not helping him in anyway, but he couldn't help himself.

Eventually he dragged himself away from the Pensieve, making sure to stuff his
memories back in his head, so nobody could accidentally stumble upon them. He then
tried flicking through Hermione's book ( A Guide to Magical Careers ), but even
that reminded him of Bill, and the conversation they'd had about what he wanted to
do after Hogwarts. Which of course reminded him of the kiss that happened later.
This in turn renewed his worry. Really, it was getting a bit ridiculous.

Next he opened up Quidditch Through the Ages, and through sheer will and bloody
mindedness alone, managed to avoid thinking about the conversation he and Bill had
shared last night about the League competition. A not so small miracle that,
really.

He lost track of time then, pausing in his reading only to head downstairs for food
when he got hungry at around half two. But then it was back upstairs and diving
back into Ron's book. He was almost halfway through it and reflected that this was
probably the longest he'd ever read for without needing information for homework,
but anything to distract him was worth his turning bookish like Hermione.

It was six o'clock when the silence was broken by a soft 'pop'. Startled he looked
up to see Bill standing in the middle of his bedroom. He came back, his mind cried
out in relief, he came back. But then he saw the set expression on the redhead's
face and started to worry. What did that mean? Was he mad? Was he just here to
reject him, or officially end their friendship? He didn't know how to react. But
then, after several agonising seconds of suspense, the redhead strode toward him
determinedly, took his face in his hands, and kissed him.

Harry, stunned still, did nothing but stand there wide-eyed until the older man
finally began to pull away. The instant he spied the disappointed expression on his
face he snapped out of his shock. Realising that Bill thought he wasn't interested
in continuing where last night left off, and deciding abruptly that he most
certainly was, he reached upward and pulled the freckled face back down, pressing
their lips together once more.

The kiss started off soft and chaste, just like their first, but before too long it
deepened, wet and warm. Bill's fingers thread through his raven hair even as his
own clasped behind the redhead's neck. He moaned as a tongue swiped at his lip and
let his jaw fall open slightly, and then Bill was there, exploring his mouth with
his tongue.

Eventually they both pulled back, needing air. They remained leaning into one
another, Bill bent down and he on tiptoe, foreheads pressed together. Both were
breathing heavily, puffs of air playing across one another's lips. Their eyes,
which had been closed, somehow both opened simultaneously with slow, heavy lidded
blinks.

"I was so scared when you left," Harry whispered, breathing still short. "Thought
it meant you thought it was a mistake." He shook his head. "Well after I was done
freaking out that is."

Bill laughed, gazing at him softly, rubbing his thumb tenderly across the younger
wizard's jaw.

"Nah. Just had to do some 'freaking out' of my own. Besides," he said, eyes turning
mischievous and gaze leering, "after getting an eyeful of that photo, how could I
resist? You have a very fanciable arse Harry. All nicely rounded but a bit firm at
the same time."

Harry squeaked and ducked his blushing face forward into the crook of the redhead's
shoulder.

"'Fanciable' isn't a word," he said, because he was sure it was all he could manage
to say without lighting up on the spot from the heat of his cheeks.

Bill chuckled at his predicament. Harry, a bit indignant that the man was finding
his embarrassment amusing, drew on every reserve of composure he had to give
another somewhat cooler reply, to make up for that first pedantic one.

"It's the Quidditch," he said, aiming for and almost managing a nonchalant tone.

"Oh, is that it?" Bill said, thankfully not calling him on the fact that despite
his attempted at unaffectedness, his warm face was still pressed against the taller
wizard's neck. "Well, we must be duly grateful for the sport of wizards then."

Harry rolled his eyes then pulled back to look at Bill's face once more. After a
few moments, uncertainty started to worry at him. What did this mean? What if Bill
was just interested in a snog or something?

"What?" the older wizard asked, running his thumb over his jaw again, before
tracing it across his bottom lip. "What's wrong?"
"What- I mean-" He blushed, "What is this? What are we?"

"Hmm," Bill hummed. "Well I think, that I'm yours, if you want me. So long as
you're mine. How's that sound?"

"Yeah," he smiled, part shy, part delighted. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).

Passions

Posted : 27 December, 2009

Disclaimer : I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the
Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original
characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright
infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any
way.

Chapter 8 - Passions

August - December, 1997

The months that followed were as close to perfect for the boy-who-lived as anything
he recalled experiencing. Perhaps it was discourteous to him to be so deliriously
happy, when all around the war raged. He couldn't seem to help himself though,
being in first flush of such a wonderful relationship. Others had noticed his
newfound lightness as well and whilst confused at first, they were mostly relieved
that he seemed to be less stressed and strained.

His training continued to advance and his trainers continued to be impressed with
his progress. He and Tonks were now almost equal fighters, duels between them
splitting wins fifty-fifty. He was excelling rapidly in warding. So much so in
fact, that Bill said he'd soon run out of things to teach him. The redhead even
suggested that he was good enough to be apprenticed to a Master Warder, if he so
wished. As for Medimagic, it continued to be a challenge, but one that he was happy
to face. He'd already become Gryffindor Tower's unofficial Mediwizard. Students
came to him for minor cuts, scrapes, bruises and anything else not serious enough
to justify travelling all the way to the Hospital Wing. It reassured him to know
that if his friends were hurt in battle, he wouldn't be useless to them.

The D.A. also continued to meet, and Harry was proud of the progress they were
making. Stand out duellers included: Neville, who was a defensive powerhouse;
Hermione, whose spell repertoire seemed endless; Luna, who was so agile she looked
like she was dancing as she dodged curses and hexes; Susan Bones, who was very
strategic minded and freely incorporated illusions and concealment charms to
outsmart her attackers; Fred and George, whose teamwork was outstanding, and whose
pranking style of combat could disconcert even the most composed of opponents; and
surprisingly Lavender, who after Parvati left had become determined to learn all
she could, and was actually rather scarily brutal in her offensive spells.

Defence teachings aside, the D.A. also continued to work dedicatedly on the 'Love's
Power' spell. They were actually making some progress and the spell's effects
looked promising.

"Well," Hermione had told him one day, "I know you were worried the spell might be
something else entirely, but we're certain it's not a- you know, an adult spell."

"What?" He gaped. "I was not worried about- who said I was worried about that?"

"Bill", she'd replied, confused at his reaction.

"Oh, I'll kill him. I was not worried about that."

Hermione didn't seem certain she believed him, and only the witch's assurances that
she was the only one the redhead had confessed Harry's 'concerns' to, stopped him
from carrying out his avowed murder. Though he did happily manage to catch Bill
with a hidden ward their next lesson, which turned him bright pink for twenty-four
hours. He felt much better after that.

Saturday, December 20, 1997

The relationship between he and Bill continued to flourish and develop, though
still in secret because neither were willing to share the other just yet. Before
Bill, the extent of Harry's experience had been a single awkward kiss from Cho, but
the older man never pressed, willing to let Harry take things at his own pace. And
whenever Harry wanted to take a step forward, the redhead was there to guide him,
eager and gentle and never making Harry feel lesser for his inexperience.

It was a Friday evening in late December that their physical relationship finally
reached the ultimate level. Harry and Bill had met up early in their classroom as
usual. Before too long, conversation had turned to kisses and wandering hands.
Things were getting hot and heavy when Bill suddenly pulled back, much to Harry's
displeasure.

"Bill? Wha-"

But the redhead just got to his feet and pulled Harry up too.

"Come on," he said, entwining their fingers and tugging the younger wizard from the
room.

He followed as Bill led them up the Room of Requirement, and paced three times till
a door appeared. The redhead opened it up and pulled Harry inside. He had but a
moment to see a bedroom with a large, decadent looking bed, but then Bill was
pulling him into another kiss and he lost himself.

Harry grasped desperately at the front of Bill's shirt as the other man's mouth
attacked his, again and again. Long fingered hands were threaded through his hair,
tilting his head to just the right angle. Finally, just when he was worried that
oxygen was becoming an issue, those wonderful lips dragged away from his, trailing
across his jaw line and then down his throat, to the crook of which where they
began to lick and suckle.

"You'll leave a mark," he said but his protest rather was weakened by his
breathless panting and moaning.

"Good," Bill murmured and he could feel the redhead's lips pull into a smirk
against his neck.

The hands released his hair and trailed down his back, pressing him close to the
older wizard's body, and he could feel a hardness to match his own pressing into
his stomach. Harry released his grip to tug open the buttons on Bill's shirt, and
then ran his hands wantonly across the newly bared chest.
The next moment he was stumbling, his boyfriend dragging them across the room till
the older man was backed up beside the door. The redhead took advantage of his new
position to bend his knees, leaning back to let the wall balance his weight. Then
hands were grasping Harry's hips, pulling his closer and up, with his legs
straddling one of Bill's own. He gasped, throwing his head back, and rocked his
hips. The new position pressed his erection to Bill's thigh, the pressure taunting
and not quite enough.

"Bill," he pleaded.

"Do you want me Harry?" the man asked huskily, mouth trailing upwards now, till he
nipped at the younger wizard's earlobe.

"Yes," he hissed.

"How far? How far d'you want this to go? How much do you want tonight?"

"All. Everything." He could only manage single-word sentences.

Then, to his distress, Bill was pulling back, and he moaned in objection. But the
redhead just nudged his face with his till he was looking into his blue eyes.
Bill's pupils were wide and dark and his skin flushed and Harry was sure he looked
the same.

"Are you sure? I know you've never… And this isn't exactly…"

"Merlin Bill," he said, somehow managing some coherency. "I'm not some girl. I
don't need flowers and wine and music and, and poetry and all that crap."

"Poetry?" The other man chuckled.

"You know, soppy girl stuff."

"But it is your first time-"

"And that only matters to girls."

"Bullshit. Even for guys, you always look back and remember your first time as
something significant. It's one of those rights of passage."

"Maybe. But I don't need you to set a cutesy, romantic scene for it."

"Then what do you need?"

Harry looked him deep in the eyes.

"You," he said softly. "Just you."

Bill's gaze softened and he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.
Then he pulled back and a laughing light entered his eyes.

"And you said you weren't a girl. 'You, just you' - could you be any more sappy?"

"Oh, shut up and kiss me."

"As you wish."

And then they were kissing and touching and feeling. They stumbled their way to the
bed, tumbling down onto the blanketed covers, and clothing melted away until there
was nothing but pleasure. The never did get to training that night.

Sunday, December 21, 1997

Harry awoke slowly, feeling snug and sated. There was a hand tracing pleasantly up
and down his spine in lazy swipes from base to tip. He hummed in approval, arching
his back into the pleasant feeling. The hand stopped, flattening at the curve of
his spine, warm and solid.

"Good morning," a familiar voice spoke, making him smile.

"G'morning," he mumbled in return, voice husky from sleep.

He was lying naked beneath the covers of the bed, half lying across Bill who was
equally bare. One of his legs and most of his upper body were thrown over the other
man, and his head was pillowed on a firm chest.

"How are you?"

"M'good."

"Not sore?"

He shifted a bit and then winced.

"A little," he said. "Not too bad."

The bed shifted then, as though Bill were reaching for something off to the side.

"Here," the redhead said, and a potions vial came into view.

He reached up to take the vial, recognising it as a pain potion.

"Were'd you get this?" He turned to look up at Bill, raising a suggestive eyebrow.
"Mr Weasley," he said with a faux scandalised tone, "did you plan last night?"

"No," he the man said, though an amused smile quirked his lips. "I left to get it
an hour ago when I woke up."

"Oh, I didn't notice you leave."

"I know; you were pretty deeply asleep. You just snuggled right back up when I came
back."

"I do not snuggle," he objected, uncorking the vial with his teeth and swallowing
the potion. "That sounds so unmanly."

"Apologies lovely," Bill smiled, taking the vial and putting it back on the bedside
table. "I meant to say you 'nestled' against me."

"Better I suppose," he sniffed, but couldn't stop the smile on his lips - he was
just too happy.

A hand reached under his chin tilting his head up and a soft kiss was pressed to
his lips.

"Hmm, what was that for?"

"Just because I love you," Bill replied, and Harry froze. "What?"
"You love me?" he asked, voice strange.

"I thought it was rather obvious even if I've never said it before. Is it really
that surprising?"

"No- I mean yes- I mean-" He bit his lip and looked away. "No one's ever said that
before."

He looked back up to see Bill's eyes darken.

"You know," the redhead stated in a seemingly casual tone, "I really don't like
your relatives, and hope that when they die they burn in a fiery hell of eternal
torment."

Harry snorted in amusement, relaxing.

"Thanks, I think." Then he tucked his head back down on Bill's chest, gathered his
courage and murmured. "And you know, I love you too."

He couldn't see but he could almost feel Bill's smile.

"Good," was all he said, and resumed tracing up and down his back.

They lay there in silence for a while till suddenly, Bill lightly slapped his rear.
He made an indignant sound looking up with wide eyes. Bill just smiled, not looking
at all guilty.

"Come on," he said. "You'd better get up. You have a D.A. lesson to prepare for
this afternoon - last one before holidays. And you'll have to start packing your
trunk for the train back to London tomorrow."

"No," he moaned, and burrowed further into the redhead. "Don't wanna go yet."

"You have to."

He huffed and sighed, and then tried pouting, but all that did was earn him a kiss
and then another order to get up and dressed.

"Fine," he finally relented.

He rolled over out of bed, then stood up and stretched. As he bent over to pick up
his pants there was a moan from behind him. He spun around to see that Bill had
been staring rather intently at his rear, and blushed, just now realising he was
naked and on display.

"Stop it," he said, hurriedly yanking on his pants and reaching for his trousers.

"Stop what?"

"Staring. It's creepy."

"Well I have said that you've a really nice arse. It's hard not to stare."

Harry just scowled to cover his embarrassed but pleased smile at the compliment,
yanking his shirt over his head, then pulling on his robe. He headed for the door
before pausing and doubling back for one last kiss.

"Hmm," he hummed in pleasure, finally pulling back. "Okay, I'm going now. I'll see
you at Grimmauld on Monday."

"I'll see you then. And in the meantime," Bill said, then lowered his tone till it
was dark and sultry, ripe with innuendo, "think about me."

Harry flushed, spun around and hurried from the room, Bill's husky chuckles echoing
behind him.

Sunday, December 28, 1997

"Ahh!" Harry screamed.

Immediately his hand clapped over his eyes and he spun around, fleeing the room.
The door slammed shut behind him and he just stood the corridor, not lowering his
hand, focussed on trying to scrub the mental images from his mind. After a few
seconds, during which he heard hurried rustling from within the library behind him,
he heard the door open.

"Ah, Harry?" a male voice said quietly. "You can come in now."

He shook his head. "I don't know that that's a good idea."

There was a huff of breath.

"Just come in, would you?"

Keeping his eyes closed he turned and used his hands to guide him back into the
room, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it.

"You can open your eyes Harry." A feminine voice this time. "We're decent."

Hesitantly, he lifted his lids one at a time. He sighed in relief as he saw Tonks,
her face blushing and hair red to match, sitting on the worn leather lounge. Remus
was standing by her side, also looking vaguely embarrassed. The most important
aspect of the scene however, was that both were fully clothed.

"We're sorry about that," Remus said.

"Sorry? Sorry ?" Harry repeated, peripherally aware that his voice was a half
register too high. "Remus, I've just seen much more of you and Tonks that I have
ever wanted to. I think I'll need to bleach my brain to get rid of the mental
images." He shuddered. "And you're sorry ?"

"Yes, well. We forgot the locking charms."

Just as he was about to go off on another rant, this one along the lines of 'my god
I'll need therapy, and you two better be paying for it', he stopped and his jaw
dropped. He looked between the two, who were confused at his change in behaviour,
and a smile spread over his face.

"You two are together!" he said cheerfully, grinning even wider at the bashful
looks they threw one another. "Finally, this is brilliant." He looked at Tonks. "I
knew you were after him and he was secretly interested. Did it take much to
convince him?"

"He led me on a merry chase," she chirped happily, "but I caught him in the end."

"But how do you keep him caught? Oh wait, he is a were wolf and so partially
canine." He grinned teasingly. "Is there a collar involved perhaps?"
As Harry took in the reactions of the pair before him, he reflected that Tonks and
Bill had really been a bad influence on him when it came to teasing. Tonks was
clearly amused by his comment, though Remus frowned chidingly at him. Until that
is, the Metamorphmagus's laughter changed to considering looks. That had Remus
looking a tad worried and Harry biting back laughter of his own.

"You know," Harry continued, "I have a joke about wolves and doggy style, but," he
bit his lip uncertainly even as he snickered, "I don't know that I'm brave enough
to make it."

Remus turned to him then, expression stern but with a hint of something 'Marauder-
ish' in his eye that put the younger wizard immediately on edge.

"I think it better you don't cub," he said. "Or else I may just have to mention
your own lover when everyone gathers for lunch in an hour."

Tonks' jaw dropped. "Our little Harry has a lover?" she exclaimed incredulously,
then demanded, "Who?"

"I- wha-" Harry spluttered then tried to deny it. "I do not!"

"Yes, you do," Remus said with such calm and certainly that he admitted defeated.

"How did you know?"

"Being a werewolf means more than a monthly transformation. My senses are also
heightened."

"I don't get it? You-" His eyes went wide as it suddenly clicked. "Wait, you can
smell it?"

Harry's mortified expression caused the pair to chuckle, Remus with a smirk on his
face. Tonks still looked eager to know just who this mystery lover was.

"So, will you keep the jokes to yourself, young Harry? And what you walked in on as
well. We're not ready to go public either."

Harry hastily agreed. He kept their secret, Remus kept his and Bill's. A fair
trade. Besides, he really wanted to get out of there, before he thought more on the
fact that Remus could smell everything he and Bill did to each other. He shivered.
Talk about an invasion of privacy.

Wednesday, March 11, 1998

Harry was in the room of requirement, practicing a spell that could preserve
severed limbs till a Healer could reattach then, when the message came. A bright
silvery phoenix flew through the wall, coming to a halt before Healer Vance.

"Emmeline, there's been an attack on Hogsmeade," Dumbledore's voice sounded, "The

battle is over, but there are many wounded and St Mungo's is at capacity. I've
asked Poppy to head down once she's gathered enough potions, but if you could head
down now and get things set up, it would be much appreciated."

Immediately Vance rose to her feet, picking up the bulky healer's bag she brought
to every lesson. She turned toward the door before hesitating and giving Harry a
considering look. Finally she nodded.

"Up Mr Potter, and follow me." Then she strode from the room, Harry hurrying to
follow.

"Healer Vance?" he asked. "Why am I following?"

"Because you're a good student Mr Potter, and I expect I will need all the help
with the wounded I can get."

He gaped. "You're bringing me along to help with the healing?" he asked

disbelievingly as they descended into the entrance hall.

"Yes," was all she said.

The rest of the journey went in silence. They pushed through the entrance door of
Hogwarts and out into the sunshine, then strode toward the gates at a brisk pace,
almost a jog. Within ten minutes they reached the edges of Hogsmeade and made their
way to the main square. Once there, Vance wasted no time in waving her wand and
conjuring a great white tent. She cast various spell which Harry knew where to
sanitise the area and ward out dirt and disease. Inside she conjured up low
pallets, before returning to the front of the tent. There, she waved her wand once
more, and a sign appeared up near the canopy of a crossed wand and bone; the symbol
of healing.

The moment the villagers spotted and recognised the sign they began approaching,
bringing forth the wounded. Most of the critically injured people had been taken to
St Mungo's, but there were still quite a few needing medical attention.

"Alright Mr Potter," Vance said crisply, "you attend to any cuts, bruises or broken
bones - clean breaks only mind, leave anything more complex alone."

And then the villagers were upon them, and the healing started. All the simple
injuries were directed to him, whist the more complex ones - complicated breaks,
internal injuries, burns and such - were attended to by Healer Vance, as well as
Madam Pomfrey when she finally arrived. Eventually he was entirely immersed his
healing. Mend that cut, salve that bruise, spell that bone, a comforting word here,
stern orders no to overexert there. A comforting smile for the children and
sometimes a lollypop went a long way. Occasionally he was even called to Healer
Vance's side to help with more complex procedures, and before he knew it hours had
passed and the wounded were almost all seen to.

Waving his wand so that the wound in a young wizard's calf knitted together, Harry
sent the man (the last in line) on his way. He then stood up, blinking as he stared
around the healing tent at all the patients who remained abed, some of whom he had
helped, and felt a rush of pleasure. With the war there was always so much death
and dying, and now here he was, helping people; healing hurts and saving lives.
There was that rush of pleasure again, and he realised something quite suddenly. He
had found his calling.

Like he had told Bill some months ago, he'd considered being an Auror, but
ultimately didn't think he'd want to keep fighting once he finally took out
Voldemort. And he was a natural at Quidditch and warding, but that meant it
wouldn't always be a challenge. But healing was. A challenge, that is to say. He
was in no way a natural at the subject, but rather had to work hard for it. And
being able to heal and help was… it was a bit of a buzz really. He grinned widely,
ignoring the strange looks he got (he was surrounded by the wounded after all -
hardly the place for levity). Yes, he now knew what he wanted to do with his life.
He couldn't wait to tell Bill.

Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).

Culminate

Posted : 3 January, 2010

Disclaimer : I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the
Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original
characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright
infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any
way.

Author's Notes : Now before anyone comments, I'm aware that graduation ceremonies
aren't the done thing in the UK, but I suited my purposes for Hogwarts to have one
anyway. Let's just call it a wizarding tradition. Hopefully this doesn't bother
anyone too terribly much.

Chapter 9 - Culminate

Sunday, June 21, 1998

Things continued to be wonderful between Harry and Bill; a dream world in the midst
of the war. They were still keeping their relationship to themselves (the only ones
who knew were Remus and Tonks, after the werewolf asked permission to tell her, not
liking having to keep secrets from his mate) but both Harry and Bill were happy for
it to remain a secret. Oh, things were not perfect. They had their occasional
disagreements and spats, and Harry was at first made quite insecure to realise that
even when in a committed relationship, Bill still flirted outrageously with anyone
good looking.

When he'd finally got the courage to explain how he felt, the older wizard had told
him that no matter who he flirted with Harry was the only one he wanted. He
reassured him of this fact with in depth physical demonstrations, many times over.
By the end of it Harry was thoroughly satisfied, and his worry over the flirting
for the most part abated. Not that he didn't get jealous occasionally, but Bill
just found it cute when Harry glared at the object of his flirtations, pressing
himself up to the redhead to stake his claim.

Good things however rarely last, as Harry should have known from experience, and he
was brought harshly down to earth when the war came to its inevitable climax. It
was a clear June afternoon, almost exactly two years since Sirius had died, and
Harry's class was finally graduating from Hogwarts. It was a semi-sombre affair,
given the atmosphere of the world at present. The feelings of those in attendance
were a mixture of pride at the students having finished Hogwarts, and sadness for
those who were no longer there, either to see the their children graduate or
graduate themselves.

"Oh, I'm so proud of you three," Mrs Weasley said, dabbing at her eyes with a
handkerchief. "All grown up and graduating Hogwarts."

Harry smiled awkwardly at the woman's tears. Beside him, Ron was looking
embarrassed at the fuss, which was not helped when his mother pulled him into a
suffocating hug. When he was released he returned to his girlfriend's side,
wrapping a supportive arm around her waist. Hermione had convinced her parents to
flee England during the last Christmas holidays. They were currently living in an
undisclosed location under assumed names until Hermione sent word that it was safe
for them to return. Though she knew it was for the best, Hermione was clearly
missing not having her parents there to witness her graduation.
"There, there dear," Mr Weasley comforted his wife.

Harry was standing in a veritable sea of redheads. All the Weasley family was
present for the event except for Percy, who still hadn't reconciled with the family
and didn't look set to anytime soon. Also present were Remus and Tonks. The pair
had been quite flattered when Harry, not at all interested in inviting the
Dursleys, had extended his 'family invitations' to them instead.

"Aww," Tonks said, getting in on the embarrass-the-students bandwagon by ruffling

his hair. "Widdle Hawwy's all growed up."

"Tonks!" he objected.

The others all just laughed, particular Ron who was glad to see someone else being
fussed over.

A warm hand clasped his shoulder and he looked up at Remus's wistful face.

"Your parents would be proud of you Harry. So would Sirius," he said simply.

And then Harry was holding back tears, only not, because almost crying would be far
too girly. He just had something in his eye was all. Remus gave him and
understanding look, squeezed his shoulder one last time and released him.

"Attention everyone!" called Dumbledore's voice called across the lawn with a
Sonorus Spell. "Would guests please be seated, and would the graduates line up
alphabetically beside the stage."

Harry, Ron and Hermione said their goodbyes and they parted ways, wading through
the crowds towards the stage. Halfway there, Harry was surprised by a hand slipping
into his own, tugging him in a different direction. He relaxed when he realised it
was Bill, but threw a glance toward his other two friends, to see that they hadn't
noticed his absence yet. He let Bill lead him across the lawn over to the cover of
a shady tree nearer to the lake.

"What is it Bill?" he asked. "I need to hurry over there before the ceremony
starts."

"It'll take awhile for everyone to get settled. We've got a few moments."

"But what did you- oomph!"

The breath left him abruptly as Bill hauled him up and proceeded to kiss the
daylights out of him. When he was finally released, he was sure his expression was
dreamy, because the redhead smirked, looking pleased with himself. After a few
seconds though, those blue eyes softened, and hands gently cupped his jaw.

"When this ceremony is over, you and I need to talk."

"Talk?"

"Yeah, I've something to tell you. And something to give you." He patted his robe
pocket.

"Ooh, graduation present?" Harry asked, reaching toward the pocket, wondering what
was inside, but his hands were batted away. "Hey!" he said, then frowned. "What's
the news though? Good or bad?"

"Good I hope." Then Bill kissed him again.

"Oh," Harry said dazedly.

And then with a last peck, Bill pushed him in the direction of the stage, whilst
the redhead headed for the rows of conjured seats that were set up on the lawn.
Reluctantly Harry separated, and within minutes he had reached where the crowd of
seventh years were gathering.

"Harry, where did you get to?" Hermione asked when he reached their side.

"Blimey Harry, you look like you've just been well snogged," Ron blurted.

"What?" he spluttered.

"No, he's right Harry. Flushed cheeks, red swollen lips, and you're hair's messier
than even normal," Hermione listed off her observations logically. "You look like
you've just been properly kissed."

He hesitated for a moment, wondering how to act, and finally settled for a wide,
happy grin.

"Well, maybe I was," he said.

Immediately his two friends were ravenous with curiosity.

"Really?" Hermione asked.

"Are you serious?" Ron questioned.

"Who was it?"

" How was it?

"No, never mind that Ron. He looks quite pleased so it was obviously good."

"Is she someone we know?"

"Someone in our year? What house?"

"Guys, guys," Harry interrupted, laughing and raising his hands. "We really need to
start lining up now. They're starting soon."

"Oh no you don't Harry Potter," Hermione rebuked. "Don't you even try that on… oh
darn, they really are. Fine, but don't think we won't be getting answers from you
later."

"Too right mate," Ron agreed. "Even if you have to tie you down and Rictusempra the
information out of you."

They began to turn away when Hermione suddenly gasped and turned back to Harry.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Harry, we have news about-" she looked around then leaned in
close to whisper, "the spell."

"The 'Love's Power' spell?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Yes, the D.A.'s been having marathon sessions working on it daily for the last two
weeks, since most of us are graduating and won't be able to get together as much
anymore. Oh and it's just amazing Harry, we've-"
"Students," McGonagall's voice sounded strictly. "Hurry up now! Line up please. No
dawdling."

"Oh, sorry Harry," Hermione said, already heading toward the front of the line.
"I'll tell you after the ceremony."

"Hermione," he tried to object. "You can't get me curious like that and just leave
me hanging."

"Sorry Harry," Hermione said, "Later, I promise."

And the she was gone.

"Ron?" he asked, spinning to his other friend.

Ron however raised his hands defensively and started backing toward the end of the
forming line.

"No way mate. You want me to steal Hermione's thunder? She'd murder me, even if I
am her boyfriend. Actually, being her boyfriend might just make it worse."

And then he was gone, leave Harry standing between Pansy Parkinson and Zacharias
Smith, feeling unbearably curious.

Silence fell over the crowd as Dumbledore ascended the stage and approached the
podium.

"Good morning ladywitches and gentlewizards," the old wizards greeted, arms wide.
"It is a pleasure to have you all here today, to celebrate this joyous occasion.
Yet another group of young men and women have passed for the last time through
these hallowed halls as students of Hogwarts School…"

Harry listened only vaguely to the speech. It was nothing terribly interesting,
just welcoming the guests, praising the students, bidding all well. He almost
wished the headmaster would throw in a 'nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak' just for
old times sake, and to liven things up.

"And now ladies and gentlemen, I give you this year's Head Boy and Head Girl,
Anthony Goldstein and Hermione Granger."

There was polite applause as the two students in question separated from the line
and stepped onto the stage.

"Good morning parents, siblings, family, friends and guests," Hermione spoke. "My
name is Hermione Granger."

"And my name," the Head Boy added, "is Anthony Goldstein. We thank you for joining
us in celebrating the graduation of we, the class of nineteen ninety-eight. As we
all know these are troubled times. And so we should all look for joy where it is to
be found."

"But we should also," Hermione took over, "take the time to respectfully remember
those lost. Four of our number most tragically are no longer among us to see this
day. I ask that we all spare a moment to remember them, and send our love and
sympathies to their families who will not see them graduate with us today…"

As Hermione and Anthony continued to speak, Harry noted that in her tally of those
students no longer present, she included neither of the Patil twins who, it had
been heard, had died participating in an attack on Diagon Alley. He was sure that
he wasn't the only one to notice the omission, but no one seemed bothered by it.

Looking around he spotted Malfoy two places up, beyond Parkinson and Nott. He
frowned at the look on the boy's face. There was the expected disgust and envy as
he stared at the two on the stage (rumour had it the blonde Slytherin had thrown an
unholy fit when he discovered he wasn't chosen as Head Boy), but also on his face,
was expectation. Perhaps he was just excited to be graduating, Harry considered. He
discreetly looked up and down the line. The rest of the Slytherins were acting
slightly off too, as were Ravenclaw Stephen Cornfoot and Hufflepuff Megan Jones.

"… as we go out into the world, as fully qualified witches and wizards," Hermione
was finishing proudly, "to forge bright and promising futures."

Harry was distracted from his worry by the crowd bursting into enthusiastic
applause. He joined in, sending Hermione a thumbs up for the speech as she and
Anthony left the stage to retake their places in line.

Dumbledore returned to the podium and Professor McGonagall moved to stand behind
and to the right of him, beside a table on which a pile of labelled, beribboned
scrolls sat waiting.

"Ahem, yes, a most inspirational speech from our Head Students," the headmaster
said, smiling and clapping himself. "And now, with your leave, we shall move onto
the presentation of the graduation scrolls."

The crowd quietened down and Dumbledore pulled a long scroll from his robes,
unrolling it and peering at the top of the list through his half moon spectacles.

"First up," he said, "please congratulate, Miss Hannah Abbott."

The crowned cheered as a pink faced girl stepped onto the stage, happily accepting
the scroll the Deputy Headmistress handed to her, before turning to the crowd,
curtseying and continuing off the other side of the stage. Susan Bones was called
up next, then Terry Boot and so on. The students all followed Hannah's lead, but
for the boys who bowed rather than curtseyed.

"Hermione Granger," was called and she accepted her scroll with a wide, bright
smile, not even glaring at Fred and George who were whistling loudly.

As the line grew shorter, Harry noticed, the students he had spotted before grew
tenser. Not only that, but his scar was prickling. That he knew was not a good
sign. There were so many witches and wizards here today. Many ministry employees
had taken the day off to watch their children graduate. Even Minister Bones was
here, to see her niece Susan. What if even now Voldemort was taking advantage of
the distraction to attack the Ministry of Magic?

"Miss Pansy Parkinson," Dumbledore read out.

The prickling of his scar grew into a distracting sharp pain, but he grit his teeth
and ignored it, knowing he was next.

"Mr Harry Potter," the headmaster called.

The applause was the most enthusiastic so far. Fans, Harry thought with distaste,
though a great deal of the noise, he realised, was coming from the Weasley twins
and Tonks, who were cheering and wolf whistling, even more madly than they had done
for Hermione.
As reached for his scroll he looked out at the audience. The Weasleys, Tonks and
Remus were all grinning. His return smile widened at the look of pride and love he
spotted on Bill's face.

"Congratulations, Mr Potter," McGonagall said, with a rare smile.

He nodded, accepting his scroll, then turned to bow to the audience…

"Ah yes, congratulations Harry Potter," a sibilant voice echoed across the field
from beyond the seated guests…

… and then there was chaos.

Harry took one glance at the army that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere,
headed by Voldemort himself, and dropped instantly to the floorboards, rolling
hurriedly off the stage. Spell fire impacted the spot where he'd stood not seconds
ago, shattering the wood and sending splinters everywhere.

He had a moment to mentally roll his eyes at Voldemort, waiting for him to be
called up before attacking - the madman would have to play to the dramatic - when
over the screams of the crowd he heard McGonagall utter a profane sounding Gaelic
word. A glance in her direction showed a deep cut marring her cheek, but before he
could worry about her further Dumbledore had raised a shield and was rushing them
both off the easily targetable area of the stage.

Looking around, he quickly took in the situation. Death Eaters were casting curses
left right and centre, attacking the assembled crowd. Most of the guests were
screaming and running, though there were growing numbers beginning to fight back.

A curse whizzing from close by missed him by a fraction of an inch, and he dodged,
spun and returned fire, sending Pansy Parkinson flying. He realised that the
students who were acting so strangely before (anticipating the attack, he now
understood) were now attacking him and all the non-dark students nearby.

As he duelled Cornfoot, the noticed the D.A. had also realised the situation and
was turning their attention to the traitorous students. Across the other side of
the stage, where he had been lined up, he saw Ron, Dean and Zacharias taking on
Zabini. Within five minutes the traitors were disarmed and disabled, and the D.A.
turned their attention to the Death Eater army, most of them hurrying into the fray
in search of their families to defend.

Harry dove into the fight himself, dodging spells, throwing curses, shielding
bystanders and encouraging those still panicking to take up arms and defend
themselves. He wasn't sure how long this continued of for however, when he suddenly
found himself facing six Death Eaters at once, and began to worry for himself
instead, even as he desperately fought back.

"Diffindo!" cried a voice from behind him and one of his attackers fell.

Looking around he was surprised and relieved to find Moody had joined him.

"Eyes on the battle lad!" he yelled. "Or have I taught you nothing?"

Immediately his focus snapped back, deflecting a Bludgeoning Hex, dodging a Crucio
and following up with an Incendio. The pair of them fought, back to back, and the
enemies fell one by one till the fight was three on two. Just as he felled the man
he was duelling, Moody yelled from behind him.

"Die you scum, Bombarda! That's what you get for not having CONSTANT VIG-"
The familiar refrain cut off mid word and he spun to see Moody sprawled out on the
grass, his neck slashed wide open. He wanted to go to his side, see if there was
anything he could do. He knew better though - his teacher was dead. Besides, Moody
would come back from the afterlife to kill Harry personally if he let himself be
distracted from the battle.

"Diffindo!" he cried, cutting down the last of their attackers.

He wanted to break down, but now was not the time to grieve, and so he moved on.

The next half hour went by in a blur. He was vaguely aware that at some stage the
Aurors had arrived, but the numbers were still mostly even due to the guests and
students that had managed to flee Hogwarts grounds.

The battle was nothing like his training sessions. Even the attack on last year's
Valentines weekend was short and tame by comparison. The fight here and now was
greater in both scale and viciousness. It was utter chaos as coloured lights and
the sounds of screams filled the air. The fields of Hogwarts were littered with the
dead and dying, and there was nothing to be done but step over them and continue
fighting.

He saw familiar faces from the D.A. and the Order every now and then, but the tide
of the battle would always push him away before he could reach them. He was grimly
aware however, that he hadn't seen Bill yet, and that worried him. Of course as the
saying went, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Reducto!" cried an unfamiliar voice.

In the split second it took the curse to be incanted Harry panicked, seeing the
Death Eater from the corner of his eye, and realising he was too close to dodge. He
braced himself for impact and then… he went flying as a taller form in blue robes
tackled him from the spell's path. He and the man both rolled to their knees,
sending simultaneous Stunning Spells at the wizard who had attacked him.

"Bill!" he greeted, relief in his voice, taking advantage of their position

crouched behind the stage to speak. "I was wondering where you'd gotten to. I was
worried"

"You were worried? Who's the trouble magnet between us love? I was the worried
one."

"Okay, you win. Let's get back out there."

It seemed to happen in an instant. One moment they were stepping out into the open,
and the next a cutting curse whizzed past. With a wet slicing sound and then a
thump, Bill's left arm fell to the grass, and then there was red everywhere.

"Arg!" the redhead screamed in pain, clutching above the bloody stump.

Harry's reaction was automatic. In seconds he had cast the Preservation Charm for
separated limbs on the fallen arm and another spell on what little was left
attached to Bill, to stop him from bleeding to death. Unfortunately fate was a
bitch and so no sooner had he calmed, thinking the situation under control, than a
dreaded voice sounded out.

"Ah, there you are Potter," Voldemort greeted from twelve feet away, absentmindedly
sending a Killing Curse at a middle aged witch who stumbled across the open space
between them. "And what is this? A friend of yours? And just look at his condition.
Perhaps I should put him out of his misery?"

"NO!" Harry yelled, diving forward.

But it was too late, for the curse that left Voldemort's wand thundered across the
distance between them and struck Bill directly in the chest. It exploded against
the redhead with a wet crunching sound, sending a spray of blood everywhere and
throwing him backwards. Involuntarily, Harry screamed, before snapping into action
once more.

"Subsisto Corpus!" he cast desperately.

Bill's damaged body gained a glassy appearance signalling the spell was properly
cast. Harry did not relax however. For one, he hadn't had a chance to inspect the
damage to his love's chest. There was so much blood; he could already be beyond
help. Secondly, Voldemort was still standing there, armed and dangerous.

"A successful Stasis Spell? Bravo boy. I had no idea you'd aspirations as a Healer.
Of course, that will not help you defeat me. Come Harry, let us dance."

And then a sickly brown curse was barrelling his way. He dodged and returned fire
and the duel was on. Slowly he edged away from Bill's supine form. He didn't want
to risk him in the crossfire. The fighting was quick and deadly and the crowd
retreated from the pair of them, leaving them a wide circle in which to duel.

Despite himself, his thoughts continually strayed to the fallen redhead. How dare
Voldemort hurt him, he would think as he ducked and cast and rolled. Hadn't he
taken enough from Harry? He didn't think he would survive if he lost Bill. Each
time he these thoughts entered his mind anger and determination would fill him and
he fought back with renewed vigour. But even so, he was tiring.

Hermione raised a shield, reflecting back a curse at a Death Eater, who went down
with a scream. Even as she fought, Ron by her side, she noticed the shift in the
atmosphere that signalled something was happening. Powerful magic was in the air.
She looked about searching for the cause. There, was that Dumbledore? But one
glance at the old man showed he was not the cause. The headmaster was shielding a
group of young children from a mass attack, with the help of Molly Weasley and a
group of others, predominantly mothers, she noted. So then what… and then there was
a gap in the crowd and she spotted the source. Harry and Voldemort were duelling.

"Ron," she gasped. "Harry's fighting Voldemort."

The redhead paled and the two fought their way over till they had a clear view of
the duel. She gawped at the sight. It really was spectacular. She'd always know
Harry was a better fighter than any of them, but even she had underestimated his
talent. The power, the skill, the speed and agility both opponents showed was
breathtaking. She also noted however, that Harry was flagging. And she wasn't the
only one.

"He's getting tired," Ron said to her, sounding worried, as they both took down the
Death Eater that crept up behind them.

"I know Ron. We need to do the spell."

"Spell?"

"The 'Love's Power' spell."

"What?" he yelled. "Are you mad? We've never even practiced."

"We don't have a choice," she hissed back. "Look, there's Susan, Hannah and Justin.
And over there are Fred and George. You head for your brothers and tell them. Get
them to spread the word. I'll tell Susan's group."

Reluctantly Ron agreed and they separated. In the next ten minutes, like Chinese
whispers, the message was spread, and the D.A. began gathering around the edges of
the great battle taking place between Harry and Voldemort. When Ron returned to her
side she took a bracing breath.

"Okay I think that's everyone. I said I'd go first as the signal to start casting,"
she said, voice nervous.

Ron grabbed her free hand and squeezed.

"You can do it Mione," he said, the utter faith in his voice giving her confidence.
"I know you can."

She nodded then frowned in concentration and raised her wand, focussing on Harry
and all the love she felt for him.

"Grate Donatus Ex Dilectio!" she intoned.

A slight wave of weakness overcame her as white light left her wand and connected
with Harry. Focussed solely on Voldemort as her friend was, he had not the chance
to dodge. As it struck he paused, a look of shock on his face. Fortunately, the
Dark Lord halted too, confused by the spectacle. And then more and more voices from
the D.A. were crying out the 'Love's Power' incantation, their spells hitting Harry
one by one from all around, and an expression of wonder grew on the teen wizard's
face.

One second Harry was dodging a Crucio and the next, he was hit with a spell from
the crowd. He had but a moment to pause in shock and curse himself for not being
more alert when yet more spells came sailing towards him from all directions. There
no way to dodge and he braced himself for pain, but instead he felt something
entirely different. Power.

With each beam of pure white light that hit him, power flooded into him. But that
was not all. The bursts of power were infused with emotions. The emotions filled
him, and he knew instinctively that they belonged to the D.A. who were casting the
spells. The feelings varied from burst to burst, but above all, they spoke of love.
Love of every variety, from admiration, to awe, to respect, to loyalty, to
gratitude, to faith, to friendship - even a bit of lust from some. The emotions
buoyed him, and he found himself drawing on strength of will he hadn't even known
he had. Really, it was as effecting as phoenix song.

Opening his eyes, he turned them toward his nemesis, unaware that they were aglow
with power.

"What is this?" Voldemort screamed.

Harry knew from the tension in the snake-like voice that Riddle sensed some of what
was happening. Enough to be worried.

Harry stared across the field at his enemy and strangely felt no fear. Here was
Voldemort, the most powerful Dark Lord on Earth. But compared to Harry in that
moment, resonating with the love and power of his friends, Voldemort was nothing -
he was tiny.
"This," Harry said, voice echoing oddly, "is your end." And he extended his arm,
pure power gathering at the tip of his wand. "Goodbye Tom Marvolo Riddle."

And then the magic exploded from his holly and phoenix feather wand and charged
across the distance between them. It shattered Voldemort's hastily conjured shield
and impacted him directly over the heart. A terrible scream echoed from the Dark
Lord as more and more power barrelled into him, until finally the sound weakened
and tapered off. Harry lowered his wand and stared at the fallen corpse of the man
who had ruined so many lives, and felt nothing but relief. Then his eyes rolled to
the back of his head, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).

Aftermath

Posted : 10 January, 2010

Disclaimer : I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the
Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original
characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright
infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any
way.

Chapter 10 - Aftermath

Monday, June 22, 1998

Harry awoke to a white ceiling and the smell of antiseptic and immediately knew he
was in hospital. He looked around the familiar room, recognising it as one of the
private wards off the Hogwarts infirmary. Trying to move he found himself feeling
weak. He pushed back his blankets, sluggishly sat up, then tentatively dropped one
foot to the stone floor, preparing to stand up.

"Mr Potter," Poppy scolded, bustling through the door, "get back in that bed this
instant."

"Madame Pomfrey," he said, caving to her demand. "How'd you know I was up?" Then,
remembering from his Medimagic training, answered for himself. "Alert ward, to tell
you when I woke up."

"Precisely," she said, withdrawing her wand and began casting diagnostics.

He frowned at the results. His training was not advanced enough to tell much past
that he was exhausted.

"Well?" he asked when she finally stopped. "What's wrong with me?"

"You're recovering from magical saturation."

"Magical saturation?"

"Yes, you were quite literally saturated in magical power. The levels were off the
charts. And the human body can only handle so much power. Fortunately you managed
to take down You-Know-Who before your body shut down in self defence and began
purging the excess magic. Your levels are almost back to normal now."

"So why do I feel so weak?"

"As I said, it is not natural for a human being to hold so much magic. It was a
strain on your body. Admittedly you are one of the more powerful wizards and can
hold more than most, but still; it was far too much even for you. You remained
unconscious for over a day, but with rest and relaxation, you should be well within
the next few days."

He began to nod, when suddenly a memory from the battle flooded his mind.

"Bill!" he exclaimed, throwing back the covers once more.

"Mr Potter, be still."

But he wouldn't listen. In seconds he was on his feet and heading to the door.

"I'm fine, just tired. You said so yourself. Where's Bill Weasley? Is he okay?"

She tried again to convince him to return to bed but he pinned her with such a
determined glare that even she - queen of her domain as she usually was - relented
to his demands. She did grasp his arm though, to halt him while she explained.

"His family requested he stay here at the Hogwarts infirmary, so he is actually out
in the main ward. You would be there too but I had to move you; reporters were
trying to break in to get an interview, as if you were up to it," She rolled her
eyes, then sobered, returning to the topic of Bill. "As for Mr Weasley, he was hit
with two critical spells: a Cutting Curse and a Blasting Curse. His arm as you know
had been severed, but we were able to reattach it - and I hear we have you to thank
for the Preservation Charm on the severed limb. Very nicely done. As for the second
curse, there was considerable damage to his chest area, including vital organs."
She shook her head. "It was a mess and again, it was only your quick reaction with
the Stasis Spell that let him survive."

"But he is alive?" he asked and she nodded hesitantly. "What, what is it? You did
fix the damage to his chest right? He's going to live, isn't he?"

"It took the Healers the better part of three hours, but yes, his chest was
reconstructed and repaired. Of a miracle, lingering damage will even be minimal,
though he has some bad scarring."

Harry shook his head. He didn't care if Bill looked like Frankenstein's monster so
long as he survived.

"So then what's the problem?"

"The curse was such a shock to his system. He should have died. You know how a
wizard's magic reacts in such situations."

Harry paled but nodded. "Healer Vance mentioned it once. It protects the mind and
soul, by withdrawing consciousness so it doesn't have to suffer the death." He took
a deep breath before releasing it, "Bill's not regaining consciousness then?"

It was more statement than question, but she nodded all the same.

"Not yet. He's currently in a coma."

"I need to go sit with him," he said hoarsely.

Then, before she could object, he was out the door. He ignored the awe filled looks
of the strangers in the infirmary, searching out red hair.
"The curtained bed second down on the left," Pomfrey said from his elbow, before
striding away to tend to other patients.

He approached the area in question, pausing before pressing through the part in the
curtain. He held his breath as he entered. The Weasley family and Hermione were
gathered around the bed, on which… he bit his lip against tears at the sight. Bill
was laying there looking pale and still. He wore no shirt, exposing the thick
bandages wrapped around his chest and arm. A wave of dizziness washed over him when
he spotted a smear of blood on the prone wizard's neck that had been missed.

"Harry you're awake!" Hermione cried, flinging herself at him. "I would have been
by your bedside but Madame Pomfrey said you were okay but for exhaustion. She also
had to lock your doors. Reporters have been trying to get in."

"It's fine Hermione," he assured her, voice a bit choked as she withdrew to her
boyfriend's embrace.

"Oh Harry," cried Mrs Weasley tearfully, stepping forward next to pull him into a
hug. "We owe you so much. The Healers told us if not for you and the spells you
cast, Bill wouldn't still be with us."

"It was nothing," he said. "How is he?"

"No change I'm afraid," said Mr Weasley, sounding graver than Harry'd ever heard.
"But we remain hopeful."

Molly returned to her seat at the bedside, and the rest of the Weasleys came
forward to embrace him, whispering thanks. As the last pulled back there was a
cleared throat from behind him. Harry spun around to see Dumbledore, still wearing
yesterday's torn and dirtied robes, and with his nose a little more crooked than he
remembered, but otherwise whole.

"I apologise for intruding, but if I could have a few words with Harry," he asked,
and Harry looked toward Bill, torn, and the headmaster reassured him. "We shan't be
long, my boy."

A few seconds later, the two had returned to Harry's own hospital room. Harry sat
on the edge of his bed and Dumbledore conjured a chintz armchair. The old wizard
sat silently, rubbing his nose.

"Sir, are you alright?"

"Oh, fine, fine. I must merely get used to the new shape is all." He gestured at
his face.

"It doesn't look any worse than before," Harry responded before realising what he's
said. "I mean, it was crooked before and it's crooked now, just differently," he
hurried to explain, flustered. "Not that it's bad. Or was bad."

Dumbledore chucked, rubbing his nose one last time before threading his hands
together in his lap.

"Never fear dear boy, no offence is taken." He sighed then and looked serious. "Let
me be the first to say Harry, thank you. Thank you for ridding the world of the
evil that was Voldemort. We all owe you a great debt."

"Oh," he said scratching his ear awkward, feeling proud at the praise despite
himself. "It was nothing."
"It certainly was not, but I shall not embarrass by dwelling on the topic further.
I will say however, that I wish I could have been more help in your great duel."

"No sir," Harry shook his head immediately. "I saw you, through the crowds. You
were defending a group of children at the time. There's absolutely nothing wrong
with that."

"Thank you." Dumbledore nodded and smiled. "Everyone is of course overjoyed at your
victory. And I must say, the parties and celebrations are just as grand as
seventeen years ago."

The words were said cheerfully, but at hearing them, something terrible occurred to
Harry.

"Sir, what if-" He hesitated, as if afraid speaking his thought aloud might make it
real. "What if he's not really dead? Like last time. What if he comes back again?"

"No, my boy," Dumbledore assured him seriously, "he is gone, for good."

"But how can you be sure?"

"His body, for one."

"Body?"

"Yes, when you first banished him, he left no body behind. Merely robes and a
wand."

"You said 'for one'."

"Ah, indeed - how perceptive of you to notice." He paused then, considering.

"Professor?"

"I had not been idle Harry, the many years following Voldemort's first fall. I had
in fact spent a great deal of time researching Voldemort's past and discovering the
methods by which he survived what should have been certain death. He had bragged
you see, on several occasions, that he had instituted safeguards - safeguards that
would ward him from death. And then, when no body of his was found at your home, I
suspected."

"But I thought he was a spirit. Are you saying he just walked away?"

"No, but the body was gone, and the robe and wand lying on the ground as though he
had disappeared without them. He had found a method you see, by which he could
sacrifice his body, his physical form, in exchange for a spirit existence to stave
off death."

"But how? How did he do that?" he asked curiously.

Dumbledore shook his head, looking more sober and serious than Harry had ever seen.
There was nary a trace of twinkle in his eye as he replied.

"I will not speak on such diabolical things. Suffice it to say, that it was through
rituals and magics both dark and terrible," he said gravely and Harry shivered.
"But as truly unpleasant as my research was I did discover the very rituals and
spells he used. They were not designed to hold once they had achieved their
purpose."
"But," he hated to be contrary, but Harry needed to be very sure, "couldn't he have
cast those spells again when he got a new body?"

"Most fortunately, no. Those magics were designed to work only on a human form. And
with the resurrection ritual Voldemort used…"

"He was no longer human?"

"Precisely."

There was silence again then. Harry waited for the headmaster to ask him about the
method he used to defeat Voldemort, but no such question was forthcoming. Perhaps
he'd already questioned the D.A.? Before he could ask though, Dumbledore suddenly
stood.

"Well, I will let you return to your beau's side."

"Thank you si-" He halted mid word, looking at the headmaster wide eyed. "Professor
Dumbledore?" he asked squeakily.

"Oh my boy," the older wizard chuckled, "I have known for quite some time of your
romance. There is almost nothing that goes on in my school that I am unaware of."

Harry suddenly blushed at the implications of that.

"Nothing?" he asked, strangled, and Dumbledore laughed more heartily.

"Goodness gracious, I of course do not infringe upon intimate privacies."

"Oh," Harry said, relief obvious in his voice.

"Now go; rejoin the Weasley family," he said.

"Thank you sir," Harry nodded, stood and headed for the door.

As he reached for the handle however, the headmaster spoke once more.

"And Harry," he said, voice serious, "I wish your William a speedy recovery."

He bit his lip. "Thank you," he said waveringly, and exited the room.

Harry did indeed return to Bill's bedside, fetching for himself a chair to sit on,
squeezing it in among the others at the end of the bed. As the hours wore on, one
by one the Weasleys parted to go seek out some sleep. When finally Hermione led a
nodding Ron away, throwing Harry a curious glance that he was yet to leave himself,
only Mr and Mrs Weasley remained.

"Come on dear," Mr Weasley said. "There's nothing we can do at the moment. Let's
follow the other children's example and get some rest. We can come back in the
morning."

"But Arthur," she immediately objected, "we can't just leave him alone."

"I'll stay Mrs Weasley," Harry found himself offering, since there was no way he
was leaving Bill's side.

"It's Molly dear, and you need to rest yourself."

"I was asleep for over a day Molly. I don't see myself dozing off again anytime
soon," he said, and at her uncertainty added, "If I really need to, the private
room I was in is free, but apart from that I won't leave his side till one of the
family comes back."

And not even then, he added silently.

"Thank you Harry," Arthur said. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, doesn't it
Molly?"

"I'm not sure," she hesitated but then a yawn overtook her, and she conceded
defeat. "Oh very well. But be sure to rest if you need it Harry dear."

"I promise," he said.

And then they were gone, disappearing through the curtains, leaving him and Bill
alone. He moved from his chair to the one Mrs Weasley had occupied, at the head of
the bed, and took Bill's hand gently in one of his own, tracing across the back of
the long elegant fingers. After some minutes he reached out to brush his hand
across his lover's face - his brow, his lidded eyes, his cheeks, nose, lips and
chin. He leaned close, mouth hovering over Bill's ear.

"You have to get better, you hear me? I need you," he said, voice breaking over the
words. "I need you."

And then he lowered his head to the mattress by Bill's hip and before he knew it,
despite his earlier claims that he'd gotten quite enough rest already, he was
falling asleep.

Tuesday, June 23, 1998

When Harry woke next early morning sunlight was just beginning to filter through
the hospital wing windows, and there were voices murmuring beside him. They
quietened as he sat up and stretched, rubbing at the blanket creases in his cheek
from where his head had rested on Bill's bed. Looking over he saw that Neville and
Lavender had pulled up seats beside him. He blinked in surprise at the fresh,
painful looking scar that now graced the other wizard's face, from temple to jaw.

"Hello Harry," the young man said softly.

"Neville, are you okay?" he asked guiltily. "I can't believe I didn't think to ask
how everyone was."

"Don't worry about it," he said, fingering the scar. "It's healing. It'll leave a
permanent scar the Healers say, but there's no real damage."

"But-"

"It's fine Harry, really," Lavender interrupted him. "Battle wounds can be very
sexy." She gave her boyfriend a sultry look.

"Lavender!" he spluttered.

The witch just smiled at her boyfriend from beneath lowered lashes, flustering him
further before finally having mercy and turning away.

"Besides Harry," she said, giving a knowing sort of smile, "I think you had
something more important to be worrying about. Or rather some one ."
She glanced meaningfully at Bill as she spoke. He sat stunned for a moment, shocked
by her words.

"How did you-" He paused to look at Neville who seemed surprised but not bothered.
"How'd you know?"

She laughed then, a light sound that was really quite pretty. A fact her boyfriend
was well aware of, Harry observed, hiding a smile at seeing the entranced
expression on the fair haired wizard's face.

"Oh Harry, I spent most of my early years at Hogwarts as the resident gossip
queen," she explained. "You don't get that title without being observant.
Especially about relationships."

"How long have you two been together?" Neville asked softly.

The other wizard seemed both happy and sad for him. No doubt pleased Harry had
found someone, but worried that that someone was currently less than well.

"Almost a year," he admitted, glancing at Bill and realising he had been holding
his lover's hand all through the conversation. "We figured it out on my birthday.
Well, that is to say that I kissed him, he left and we both freaked out privately,
then he came back and kissed me, and we finally admitted there was something
there." He smiled in remembrance before changing the subject. "You two were
brilliant out there by the way. I saw you fighting together and you were amazing. I
suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Neville you're a brilliant defensive dueller
while Lavender you're powerfully offensively. You complement each other perfectly
in a fight."

The pair grinned, and Neville flushed with pleasure at the compliment.

"Actually," the blonde wizard said, "you're not the first to say that."

"Really?"

"Oh, tell him Neville," Lavender prodded, almost bouncing in her seat with a grin
on her face.

"What?" Harry asked. "What is it?"

"Apparently," Neville said, "some of the Aurors saw us fighting as well and were…"

"Impressed Nev," Lavender provided. "They were very impressed."

"Yeah, that." And the young man blushed just remembering the Aurors' reactions.
"And one of those was Kingsley Shacklebolt. You know - the Head of the DMLE," he
said and Harry nodded. "And, well, we've both been offered guaranteed positions
with the Auror Corp training program when it starts in two months. And he wants us
to be partners."

"Really? That's fantastic!" Harry smiled at their proud looks but asked, "Does he
know you're together though?"

"I think so."

"And it's still okay for you to work together?"

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?"

"It's a Muggle thing Nev," Lavender provided, understanding since she was a half
Muggle herself. "In their armed forces and a lot of dangerous jobs you're not
supposed to work with anyone you're in a relationship with."

"Well that's strange," was all the Auror-to-be said.

"Hey Lavender," Harry said suddenly, remembering something, "didn't I hear you
mention something awhile back about starting your own fashion label though?"

The blonde's lips tightened until Neville reached for her hand and squeezed gently.
She sighed and relaxed, shaking her head sadly.

"That was mine and Parvati's dream. We were going to do it together. I don't think
I would want to do it now, alone, with all the memories of the betrayal."

"Oh," Harry said awkwardly. "Well, congratulations then, on the Auror thing. You
both deserve it."

"Thanks Harry," Neville said, then stood and clasped a hand on the green-eyed
wizard's shoulder. "We're going to head off for breakfast. I really hope Bill gets
better soon."

"Owl us if you need anything," Lavender said, standing also. "Anything at all."

"Thanks, both of you," he said, meaning it, before returning his attention to Bill.

Ten minutes later he was interrupted once more, this time by the arrival of a moony
eyed blonde.

"Hello Harry," Luna greeted him.

"Luna," he said, then remembering Neville's scar asked, "Are you alright? Any
injuries from the battle?"

"Quite alright. Although Daddy took a nasty curse to the knee," she said, voice a
little quivery. "He's still in St Mungo's."

He looked at her with concern. He knew how much Luna's father meant to her,
especially since she'd lost her mother already.

"Will he be alright?"

"They had to take his leg," she said in a little girl voice.

Awash with sympathy, he released Bill's hand to pull her into a hug. She clung to
him for a long moment before pulling back, a teary but grateful smile on her lips.

"We mustn't embrace to long, lest your lovely, freckled, gentleman suitor awakes
and gets the wrong idea," she said and he gave a surprised burst of laughter.

"Honestly, we kept it secret so long and just today three people have told me they
know."

She just smiled dreamily.

"I have to return to daddy now. Thank you for being my friend. I hope your
boyfriend returns to you soon."

"Thanks," he said. "You take care Luna." And soon she too was gone.
The Weasleys tricked in one by one over the next few hours until all were gathered
once more around Bill's bed. Madame Pomfrey bustled in at one stage to check on her
two patients. Bill had no change but she pronounced Harry healing, though not as
quickly as she'd liked. She questioned him and when he admitted he'd not eaten
breakfast he was berated by both she and Mrs Weasley. It was not an experience he
would ever care to repeat and when the infirmary assigned house-elf popped in with
a meal for him, he ate meekly.

The day passed slowly, and soon it was night once more. He had not left the bedside
even once, going so far as to call on Dobby for further meals and casting on
himself the rather embarrassing spells designed for use in relieving patients
incapable of making their way to the lavatory. The Weasleys all seemed a little
bewildered by his dedication. Eventually he admitted to all who didn't know that
Bill had been one of his trainers, and added that when he had his breakdown early
back in sixth year, it had been Bill who found him and made sure he was alright,
and that the redhead had been a close friend and confidant ever since.

Wednesday, June 24, 1998

When he woke the next morning, having slept in the chair by the bed once more, his
mood plummeted to see that Bill still had yet to awaken. He had been in a coma for
almost three days. When the Weasleys and Hermione returned to the eldest son's
bedside they were disturbed to find Harry was now refusing to communicate with
anyone. He simply held Bill's hand and sat staring at him.

Mrs Weasley attempted to get him to leave for some 'proper rest, in a bed', to no
avail. When the rest of the family retreated for lunch in the Great Hall
downstairs, Ron and Hermione remained, worried for their friend. They managed to
prod him into eating only a little, and Hermione, in a surprising fit of
motherliness, pulled out a handkerchief and wiped clean a speck of blood from a
superficial scrape on his face which no one had had the courage to tell him
lingered from the battle on Sunday.

After that the pair sat, speaking to each other quietly, but in the silence of the
ward he heard them all the same.

"Why is he so determined to stay here?" Ron asked, concern and frustration

colouring his voice.

"Oh Ron, don't you see?" Hermione whispered tearfully. "He's been studying under
his trainers for nearly two years. That's a long time to get attached. He lost
Moody - the man died right at his back I hear. And now Bill's in such dire
condition. Of course he needs to be there. He's afraid he'll lose another mentor."

Had things not been so dim, he would have snorted. Hermione, so clever, and yet
she'd completely misinterpreted the situation.

Thursday, June 25, 1998

Harry noted absently that Ron, Hermione and the twins didn't appear till later on
the next day. Hermione alone stayed with him once more when the others left for
lunch.

"Harry," Hermione said softly.

He didn't respond, but she remained sat at his side all the same.

"You may have noticed Ron and I were gone most of the morning. We had a D.A.
meeting," she explained, "and all we members have been talking and we came to a
decision.

"It was Neville's idea actually, but we all supported it. The 'Love's Power' spell,
it's dangerous. In the wrong hands… in the wrong hands it could do so much damage.
We've all made magically binding oaths, to never reveal the specifics of the spell
to anyone outside the D.A. We considered and decided one person should be free of
the oath though, in case some circumstance crops up where the fate of the world
rests on new people learning to perform it or some such. We intended it to be you."

She paused, but Harry made no comment, and so she continued on.

"Of course, we then realised there were people at the battle who heard and saw us
cast the spell, so I spoke to Dumbledore. He said we'd made a very wise and mature
decision. He agreed with my plan. I had him cast a Fidelius Charm on the details of
the spell; the wand movements and incantation.

"You're probably wondering why you can still remember us incanting the spell during
the battle if it's Secreted. It's because we made you the Secret Keeper Harry. I
needed your blood for the spell; that's why I wiped your face with the handkerchief
last time I was here. I know I should have told you. I hope you're not too angry
with me," she paused but again he remained silent. "Oh Harry, come back to us."

The Weasleys returned soon after, and Harry felt a little guilty to see that their
worries were not only for Bill but him also. He remained silent despite this
however, maintaining his vigil.

When first the hand twitched in his, he thought he'd imagined it. Then it twitched
again and he moved for the first time in days, jumping to his feet. The screeching
of his chair flying back sounded loudly in the quiet of the hospital wing and
immediately everyone's attention was on him.

"Harry?" someone asked hesitantly.

"He moved," he spoke, breaking his silence.

There was a moment of shock and then they all crowded around. The twins were sent
to fetch Madam Pomfrey but the rest hovered by the bed, calling out to Bill,
questioning could hear them, asking him to come back to them.

"Out of the way," Poppy ordered bustling through the privacy curtain, wand drawn
and soon began casting diagnostic spells.

Harry's breath caught as he interpreted some of what he read, particularly the mind
activity stats. He was definitely awakening. Madam Pomfrey soon spoke confirming
his thoughts and there was much excitement. She told them to speak to him, to
encourage him to return.

"Bill, wake up dear," Mrs Weasley said. "Wake up Silly-Billy."

Under other circumstances Harry would have snickered at the newly discovered
nickname. Instead he mentally catalogued it away for future teasing purposes when
the situation was not so grim.

"Son, come on now," Mr Weasley joined in. "Come back to us."

The others all spoke up and the bedridden man stirred but didn't awaken. Harry
licked his lips before speaking.
"Bill," he said, leaning close. "Wake up. Please Bill, wake up. For me?"

And then, with a low moan, Bill's eyes fluttered open, and he stared blearily at
the crowd above him.

"Well hello," he murmured, voice husky with disuse, "What's with the audience?"

"Oh Bill!" Mrs Weasley cried, reaching out to pet her son's red hair. "My baby,
you're alright."

"I understand you're all glad to have him back, but I need you all to back away so
I can check how he is," Poppy said.

Reluctantly they withdrew, all but for Harry. He refused to relinquish Bill's hand
and instead moved to the side so as not to be in the way. Madam Pomfrey gave him a
stern look before glancing at their joined hands, when a sudden expression of
realisation overtook her features, to be replaced by understanding. Then, much to
his surprise, she favoured him with a sympathetic look and went about her work.

They all stayed silent as Poppy did her thing; casting spells, asking a million
questions, and then explaining to Bill his injuries and coma.

"This one," she gestured at Harry, "hasn't left your side for a moment. It's been a
trial just getting him to look after himself."

Bill, who had paled at news of his coma, instead turned worried at word of Harry's
vigil. Harry blushed as a look of concern was turned towards him, and wondered if
he was the only one who saw the love hidden behind those eyes.

Eventually, after yet more questions, Madam Pomfrey pronounced he was recovering
quite well, and stepped back. At once the Weasleys clamoured around once more, but
to their surprise, Bill held up a halting hand and they went quiet.

"Before you all welcome me back," he said, "there's something I need to do." Then
he patted his chest with his free hand, frowning at the bandages. "Where'd my robes
go?"

"They were… shredded by the- the curse dear," Mrs Weasley explained haltingly.
"They were beyond repair. I imagine they were thrown away."

Bill's eyes widened with alarm at that, until Poppy stepped forward.

"Before you start to fret, which is not," the Mediwitch said as she gave him a
stern glare, "good for your recovery, you should know that we checked the pockets
first."

"Oh good," he sighed in relief. "Where is it then?"

Madam Pomfrey stepped over to the drawers by the bed and withdrew something from
within, though no one could quite see what it was. As she stealthily handed it to
her patient, she threw a questioning glance between Bill and Harry. The redhead's
eyes widened but he nodded, and a rare smile touched the woman's face.

"What is it Bill?" Molly asked, but he ignored her, focussing instead on the wizard
by his side.

"I was planning on giving you this after the graduation ceremony," he said to Harry
and the others watched on with curious expressions.
"My graduation present," he remembered suddenly from when Bill had pulled him aside
before he went to line up, and blushed as he recalled the kiss.

"Sort of," Bill said, then shook his head to clear a lock of hair from his face.
"When I imagined it I didn't think I'd give it to you lying injured in a hospital
bed with the whole family watching but… well if this has taught my nothing it's
that life's fragile and I'm certainly not going to waste time. That is to say…"

"Bill?" he asked.

He was confused by the ramblings from the normally concise redhead. Was Bill
nervous?

"Here."

And then a small dark box was pressed toward him, and he reached out with his free
hand to accept it. Not willing to release Bill's hand, he opened the box one handed
and then paused. He stared at the contents within, eyes a little wide, and lips
parted with surprise.

"Bill?" he whispered.

"I know we've only been together for a year or so, but I don't need anymore time to
think about it. You're the one for me Harry. Please, agree to marry me?"

There were gasps of surprise from behind him, and a choking sound from Ron. He knew
that the Weasleys and Hermione were suddenly putting all the pieces together, and
were shocked with the picture that was becoming revealed to them. He also realised
belatedly that Poppy must have already figured it out, having seen the box as well
as Harry and Bill's concern for one another.

"What is going on?" Mrs Weasley asked, voice faint with surprise.

But Harry acknowledged none of them, too distracted by the gorgeous, nervous man
waiting in front of him. He glanced once more at the opened box with two identical
bands resting inside on a bed of velvet. They were traditional wizarding marriage
rings, made of gold and engraved with the bonding runes along the circumference.
The runes would be imbued with magic during the ceremony, but for now they were
inert. Staring at the bands, a smile slipped over Harry's face. With shaky hands he
reached in and withdrew one from the box and shifted his grip on Bill's hand.

"Yes," he said, voice choked and full of emotion, as he reverently slipped the ring
on Bill's fourth finger. "Yes I would love to marry you."

Bill's face just lit up with love and pleasure. He smiled and reached into the box
and plucked out the second ring, then drew Harry's left hand toward him. The
redhead caressed the palm and along the fingers, before gently sliding the band
onto his ring finger. Then he raised the hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to
the back.

"Thank you," he whispered. "You won't regret it. I love you."

"Of course I won't," Harry whispered in return. "And I love you."

And then Bill was drawing him forward and into a deep, tender kiss and the world
faded away. It could have been anything from seconds to hours later when he finally
he drew back, the sound of awkwardly shuffling feet interrupting them. They just
stared into one another's eyes for a long moment before glancing over at their
audience - one smugly pleased Mediwitch and eight flabbergasted others. The pair
waited nervously for their reactions. Would they be accepting?

" Bill is the mysterious witch, or I should say wizard, who gave you a proper
snogging before the ceremony?" Ron broke the silence with his usual tact.

Hermione automatically elbowed her boyfriend in reprimand, Ron yelped and glared at
her, and the others broke their silence with questions and congratulations. The
happy couple relaxed and a wide grin broke out on Harry's face. It was all going to
be okay. Better than okay, he amended, glancing at his ring. Voldemort was gone and
the beautiful man by his side was all his.

Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).

Epilogue

Posted : 28 February, 2010

Disclaimer : I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the
Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original
characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright
infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any
way.

Author's Notes : Thanks everyone who's followed the story. Especially reviewing
readers - I love you guys! And if you haven't reviewed before, it's not too late
(hint, hint). Hope you all enjoyed it. Thanks for reading.

Chapter 11 - Epilogue

Once Bill was fully healed from his injuries, Harry applied to St Mungo's. With
references from both Healer Vance and Madame Pomfrey, he was quickly accepted. He
breezed through training, loving the work and thriving on the challenge it
presented. He went on to achieve not merely a Mediwizard accreditation, but rather
became a fully certified Healer. Bill, having originally intended to transfer back
to Egypt when the war was over, easily changed his mind. There was no way he would
be separated from his fiancé after all. Instead he remained based in Britain,
though he was occasionally sent overseas by Gringotts for short day jobs.

Harry and Bill married after a year long engagement, and bought up a house with a
decent sized tract of land, ten minutes from the Burrow near Ottery St Catchpole.
They lived there mostly alone, but for frequent visits from family and friends,
until one day seven years after their marriage when a baby came into their lives.
Only a few days old, the little boy was rushed to St Mungo's after being rescued by
Aurors. He was dying from the effects of a halted dark ritual in which his parents
had planned to sacrifice him for an increase in magical power. After working
feverishly for nearly two days straight, Harry managed to save the child, but fell
in love in the process. As soon as the babe was stable he spoke to Bill and the two
arranged to adopt the week old boy. They named their son Sirius Arthur Potter-
Weasley, but he mostly went by 'Siri', and he was loved and adored by his fathers.

Ron and Hermione didn't marry until almost nine years after graduating Hogwarts (a
decade after they first started dating). Hermione, finally fed up with Ron's
aborted attempts to propose (he always chickened out at the last second) eventually
got tired of waiting. She bought the rings and did the proposing herself. The
Weasley siblings never let their brother live it down. Hermione fell pregnant two
years after the wedding and gave birth to a daughter, Rose who grew to be polite,
charming, and astonishingly clever. They also had two other children, twin boys,
Antipholus and Dromio. Much to Hermione's despair they took not after their elder
sister, but rather their uncles Fred and George, carrying on the fine tradition of
mischief and mayhem.

Career-wise, Hermione headed straight for a Ministry job after graduation,

dedicating herself to furthering her S.P.E.W. crusade. It took her six years and
along the way even she - stubborn as she was - had to concede that the everyday
house-elf did not want outright freedom. Eventually though she managed to secure
wages and safe conditions for the elves all across magical Britain, as well as
institute protection laws with harsh punishments for those who mistreated the
servant race. Those six years were not easy however, and once she had achieved her
goals, Ron managed to convince her to find a less stressful and 'more fun'
vocation. Professional researcher and fact checker for a publishing house wasn't
quite what he had in mind, but it suited Hermione to a tee, and she was quite
happy.

As for Ron, he drifted from job to job after graduation, having difficulty finding
his niche. Eventually however, Harry, tired of the Hermione's complaining about her
boyfriend's lack of direction, bought up the Chudley Cannons and appointed Ron as
the manager. The youngest Weasley son was shocked and at first reluctant, but
eventually he gave in. To everyone's surprise, he took to the job like a fish to
water. He excelled as manager, bringing club profits to an all time high, and
helping elevate the formerly feeble team to the top five of the League.

Lavender Brown and Neville Longbottom - who would marry five years after graduation
- joined up with the Aurors right away, under the mentorship of the head of the
DMLE himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt. The man's support was not misplaced, as the duo
excelled in their jobs, breaking several records during their three year training
period, to say nothing of their achievements as fully qualified Aurors. Eventually
though, in their forties, Lavender fell pregnant, and both chose to retire to focus
on family. Their first child, Aaron Frank, was born strong and healthy. Two years
later Lilac Alice followed, but it was a hard pregnancy and they sadly agreed the
girl would be their last. To support themselves Neville opened up his own
greenhouses, supplying high quality potions ingredients. One of the greenhouses
however, at the request of his wife, was dedicated to strictly decorative plants.
She put them to good use, starting a florist business that grew an impressive
reputation, catering to all the classiest events.

Luna Lovegood went to work for the Quibbler. Her father had requested a peg leg
rather than a magical prosthetic to replace the limb he lost at the Battle of
Hogwarts. Once released from the hospital, he bought an eye patch and a parrot to
sit on his shoulder, which he taught to say 'avast, me hearties', 'shiver me
timbers' and 'walk the plank'. Unfortunately, whilst in keeping with his new
'pirate persona' the leg made travel in the wild less than practical. And so, Luna
took over his position as chief travelling correspondent for the paper. She spent
the rest of her life travelling to far off places, searching out strange and
obscure animals and mysteries. Eventually she met a peculiar Norwegian man named
Odd Larsen who was fascinated with her work and joined her on her travels. They
married after a whirlwind romance and remained together the rest of their lives,
though they would have no children.

Ginny, upon completing Hogwarts, went on to become a Chaser for the Holyhead
Harpies, the only all-female Quidditch team in the League. The Harpies won no less
than three championships during her tenure, the last under her captainship. When
finally she left the sport, she was hired on as the senior Quidditch correspondent
for the Daily Prophet. Even retired, she continued to be wildly popular with the
fans, especially the wizards. She went through boyfriends like they were going out
of style and, much to her mother's despair, would never settled down with one man
and raise a family. Despite this however, she was quite happy with her lot,
satisfied with doting on her nieces and nephews.

The Weasley twins, to the great surprise of everyone, formed a triad relationship
with none other than Susan Bones, who they had secretly gotten to know quite well
during the D.A. Rumour had it the 'you better treat her right' speech they got from
her aunt (Minister Amelia Bones) had them more cowed than Molly Weasley's lectures
ever had. This was possibly because their mother had never threatened to castrate
them. The triad had four children all up: Wanda, Wade, Willow and Wendell Weasley.
Which child belonged to which father was a mystery not even the parents were ever
certain of.

As for Tonks and Remus, the Auror eventually finagled the old wolf into a wedding
ceremony. The couple were deliriously happy together and went on to have a son they
named Teddy James. The baby boy was born with bright blue hair and - to Remus's
unending happiness - the only signs of the Lycanthropy Curse were the boy's taste
for extra rare stake and his moodiness around the full moon.

And so did they all live… mostly… happily ever after.

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