Chapter Twelve: Through the Looking Glass

Harry regained consciousness just as alarm began to spread through the hospital wing.  Shaking off the last vestiges of his confusion, Harry sat up as he saw Madam Pomfrey run from Ginny’s bedside to Fred’s.

Molly Weasley was screaming.

Fred was gone.  Instead of immediately dying in the fifth-floor corridor, he suffered a critical head injury which left him fighting a losing battle for life in the hospital wing.

Harry lay back down again.  His head was spinning, making coherent thought nearly impossible.  Blocking out the horrific sounds emanating from Fred’s bedside, Harry concentrated on Ginny, who appeared to be sleeping soundly.  Harry thanked Merlin for small favours — he really didn’t want Ginny to have to go through the shock of Fred’s death again, especially when he hadn’t been able to communicate.  If Fred had lived and was conscious enough for words, Harry might have regretted Ginny missing his passing; as it was, seeing Fred die now would serve Ginny no further purpose.

Harry reckoned, though, that Fred’s loss of life amongst his family members was a better way to go than in the rubble of the fifth-floor.  Either way, circumstances remained the same: Fred was gone.

Overcome, Harry closed his eyes and let tears come for the brother he had lost.  As much as he vehemently denied his desire to change the past, part of him had hoped to save Fred — not because of Ginny or the Weasleys, but for himself.  Harry was going to miss his good friend and his crazy antics.  Harry had fantasized about Ginny and him disclosing their relationship to the twins…  Harry also cried for George and his profound loss.  While Harry never had a brother, he had lost Sirius: in some infinitesimal way Harry supposed he might have an idea of the grief George was feeling.

Harry wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffed his nose.  He was tired of crying.  He’d wept more openly in the past twenty-four hours than in his combined seventeen years of life.  As morose as all this was, Harry was exhausted by feeling so wretched.  He was ready to move on past all the tragedy.  He sat back on the bed and looked sideways to Ginny, startled to find her looking straight back at him.  Sucking in his breath, Harry sighed heavily and slid from the mattress onto the floor, resting on his knees beside Ginny and taking her hand in his.

Ginny looked at Harry with sad eyes.  “He was gone already, y’know.  Just because he’s gone now doesn’t mean it feels different or new,” she droned mechanically.  “It feels the same for me.  I’m sure it’s different for Mum and Dad, but at least they were here with him in the end this time,” said Ginny.  She wiped her eyes as a few tears dripped over her lashes.

Harry laid his head against Ginny’s chest, giving her a lop-sided hug.  “I’m sorry, y’know.  I didn’t know this would happen,” he said.

“I guess anything could’ve, right?” said Ginny laconically.  “We knew we weren’t supposed to change things…I guess I didn’t realize a simple conversation could make things so different.”

“The conversation changed more than just what happened to Fred,” said Harry slowly as he continued to twirl Ginny’s hair round one of his fingers.  “Did you see Tonks?”

“Tonks!” moaned Ginny.

“Yeah, Tonks,” said Harry wearily.  “I don’t know what’s wrong with her, though.  It looks like everyone here is about to die.  I reckon we’re the only two in the room who aren’t critically wounded in some way or another, other than family members.”

“I wonder why they weren’t moved to St. Mungo’s?” considered Ginny audibly, and then she sucked in her breath as she realized her oversight.  “Oh — that was thick, wasn’t it?  I reckon the hospital is as much of a wreck from being overrun by Death Eaters as the school…”  Locking her hands around Harry’s neck, Ginny shivered and gave Harry a small squeeze.

“I wonder how we find out what happened while we were gone without seeming too obvious?” pondered Harry.

“I don’t know,” answered Ginny.  “Maybe we should ask Professor McGonagall.  It was her insane idea in the first place,” she spat resentfully.

Harry straightened and looked about the room for the headmistress.  The gargoyle indicated she was here…maybe she’d be able to set things straight for them.  Locating his target, Harry stood up and crossed the room to request a private meeting.

* * *

“Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley…what was so urgent you needed to leave the hospital wing before Madam Pomfrey was able to properly assess your troubles?” asked Professor McGonagall curiously.

“Er, Professor, this is probably going to sound a bit mental,” started Harry as he shifted both feet uncomfortably.  “Do you mind if we sit?” he asked, looking directly at the chairs in front of the headmistress’s desk.

“I’m not sure I like your tone, Mr. Potter.  What’s wrong?” asked the teacher.

“Nothing really,” uttered Ginny, unable to repress a sneer.  “We followed through with your plan so now we need to know what happened,” said Ginny grudgingly.

Minerva blanched.  “My plan?”

“The. Plan,” reiterated Ginny sharply.  “Your plan to send Harry back in time to alter the school before the battle,” she said as she shot a shirty look at the professor.  “Surely you remember asking Harry to risk his life for the sake of the common good?”  Ginny was becoming angrier and angrier as she spoke — which really wasn’t her intention.  She reckoned the experience in the hospital wing had affected her more than she had first suspected.  Observing the two most obvious changes brought about by their trip back unnerved Ginny.  She hadn’t intended anything to change…she’d simply wanted to help Harry sort out his emotions properly.  Now, the professor was standing in front of them like she had no idea what Ginny was on about.

“Do you not remember asking me to use the Time-turner, Professor?” asked Harry in disbelief.

Minerva was flabbergasted.  Surely she hadn’t mentioned something so outrageous to Harry…she would never have done such a thing.  Remembering her ill feeling in the hospital wing, Minerva decided to hear the teenagers out — Harry typically wasn’t the type to conjure such things out of thin air.  Surely she hadn’t mentioned something so dangerous and insane to her student…surely…

McGonagall looked at Miss Weasley, noting how her irritation seemed to be growing with each passing second.  She quickly decided honesty would be her best course of action.  “I’m afraid I don’t remember what you’re referring to Harry,” stated Minerva resolutely.  “That does not mean, however, I didn’t — or haven’t — suggested such a thing to you,” she added quickly as she saw Ginny begin to fiddle with the handle of her wand.  “Why don’t you explain your dilemma?”

“Ah, not necessary, Minerva,” interjected Dumbledore, making his presence known from the portrait.  “Why don’t I help you out here, old friend?”

“Albus?” said the headmistress questioningly.

“I think Harry and Ginny have been through quite enough tonight.  Why don’t I explain your inquiry?”  Professor McGonagall breathed in dismay as her predecessor took control of the conversation.  “Unfortunately, Minerva, you did suggest such a thing to Harry.  And yes, he did follow through — albeit not in the way you originally anticipated,” said Dumbledore kindly as he gazed upon Ginny, who was still sneering at her headmistress.

“The way I originally anticipated?” aped McGonagall dubiously as she slumped into the chair behind her desk in deference.

“You originally proposed Mr. Potter return to the hour before the final battle to fortify the school,” said Dumbledore simply as he played with his beard and expertly avoided his friend’s eagle-eyed glare.

McGonagall sat behind her desk, gobsmacked and speechless as Dumbledore continued to speak.

“I believe you also proposed he create an age line outside the Room of Requirement,” added the old wizard gently as he peeked at his successor, assessing her expression.  “The original battle affected your behaviour in such a way — I’ve never seen you react in such an obsessive manner, Minerva.”

“The original battle?” sputtered the Headmistress.  “Are you telling me this outcome was better?” she said sardonically as she cradled her forehead against her palm in consternation.

“I believe the word I used when explaining to Harry was unhinged, was it not?” posed Dumbledore, looking to Harry and Ginny in the chairs with his famous twinkling blue eyes.

Not sure he wanted in the middle of the conversation between the two headmasters; Harry grunted noncommittally.

“Unhinged?” repeated McGonagall, eyebrows rising into her hairline.  “I was unhinged?  You’re implying I was mentally unstable?”

Dumbledore coughed uncomfortably.  “Far be it from me to judge you, Minerva.  I was hardly there…”

Harry and Ginny shrank back into their chairs.  The atmosphere in the office was becoming thick and charged with magical tension as McGonagall became more upset.  The flames in the sconces hanging on the walls began to flicker like a breeze was blowing through the room, bouncing odd shadows off the ceiling onto the floor.  In Harry’s opinion the headmistress was certainly giving the impression of being mentally unstable …

“Minerva, you took the outcome of the battle very badly.  Students were killed…” trailed Dumbledore empathetically.

“Students were killed in this battle, Albus!”

Ginny’s patience was at a breaking point.  She wasn’t about to let the headmasters dance around each other in a propriety contest for the rest of the evening.  “Fred, Professor McGonagall.  Fred died the first time.  So did Tonks and Remus Lupin,” interjected Ginny shortly.  “Fred died in the blast on the fifth-floor.  I’m not sure what happened to Tonks and Remus, but they were dead before we used the Time-turner.  When we came back, Fred was still alive and Tonks is now cooked carrots in the hospital wing…which is a real improvement over death, I reckon,” she said acerbically.

McGonagall jerked back like she’d been smacked across the face.  “Albus!” shouted Minerva as she rose from her chair, “how could you let me do something so foolish!” she exclaimed to the portrait as colour began to rise through her chest and into her cheeks.  “Surely I wasn’t so emotional I completely disregarded logic and handed a highly-regulated artefact to a teenage boy who had no business using it!”

Harry and Ginny, who were both shocked by McGonagall’s outburst, remained seated in the chairs with their mouths open, heads volleying back and forth between the headmistress and Dumbledore’s portrait.

Incensed by the fuss thrown by the headmistress, Dumbledore sniffed and turned his head away from McGonagall like an insolent child.  “I assure you, Minerva, that’s exactly what you did.”  Crossing his arms in indignation, Dumbledore continued.  “You must also remember, Minerva, I am merely a portrait — an imprint of my past self.  It is not for me to dictate your actions.  If you must know, however; I did warn your idea would not be sanctioned by the Ministry, and that it was not a proper use for the Time-turner.  You randomly chose which of my words to mould to your purpose.  I told you what you needed to hear at the time.” 

Dumbledore finished his lecture and looked directly at the headmistress with an intense gaze Harry knew all too well, which in turn caused her to take several steps back.  Harry felt somewhat sorry for the professor; as he’d never really witnessed Dumbledore reprimand someone quite so thoroughly before.  McGonagall was ghostly pale — she also appeared to be shaking — she apparently was not used to having Dumbledore’s ire directed her way.  Harry was very uncomfortable for her sake and felt the need to intervene.

“Professor McGonagall, if it helps at all, you did give me a choice,” stated Harry sympathetically.

“Well, how kind of me to be so thoughtful,” snapped a frustrated McGonagall as she lowered her head into the palm of her hand, hiding her face in angry embarrassment.

Harry peaked at the retort.  “I also took it upon myself to go back before telling you my answer,” said Harry.

Minerva’s head snapped back up as she considered Harry intently.  “That makes me feel somewhat better…I’d like to think my past self had second thoughts about putting you in harm’s way again.  I’d like to think my past self realized what an incredibly bad idea that must have been.  I’d like to think my past self knew better…” said Minerva as her eyes reddened and tears threatened her lashes.

“You must know how much I respect and care for you, Harry,” continued McGonagall as her eyes entreated Harry to listen and comprehend.  “If I had been thinking clearly I would never have asked you to take on such a task…you’ve done so much…suffered so much….”  McGonagall dropped her face into both palms again and began to cry.  “What must you think of me?” she moaned.

Harry looked to Dumbledore with dismay.  He’d never been good with crying girls; now he was sitting in front of a crying professor.  Dumbledore shrugged his shoulders and cracked a wry smile as if to tell him to follow his heart.  Harry crossed over to the Headmistress and put his hand on her shoulder.  “Professor?” asked Harry softly.  “It’s okay.  I really wanted to go back.”

McGonagall looked up and wiped her eyes, wondering if she really was becoming unhinged.  She had never, never stood in front of a student and cried — no matter how dire the situation.  “You did?  You didn’t do it because I asked you?” she asked sceptically.

“Maybe we should move closer to Professor Dumbledore’s portrait,” suggested Harry.  “I reckon that would make having this conversation easier, don’t you think?” he offered.

Ginny sighed in acceptance.  She was still upset with the headmistress, but it was obvious Harry was not.  Even though McGonagall made a despicable decision in asking Harry to take on her task, it was after all, Harry’s decision to agree.  Ginny reckoned Harry’s free will made him accountable for at least part of the consequences of their actions.

Moving into a loveseat McGonagall conjured for their comfort, Ginny joined Harry as the Headmistress also conjured herself a squashy armchair.

“I think maybe we should make ourselves comfortable,” said McGonagall.  “Regrettably, it seems I’ve created another long conversation.  Would you care for tea?” she offered charitably.  “I could call a house elf if you’d like?”

A second later Kreacher appeared and bowed low in front of Harry.  “How may I be of service to you and Mistress and Headmistress, Master Harry?” Kreacher asked graciously.

“Kreacher, could you bring us some tea?” asked Harry.

“Of course!” exclaimed the elf.  “I will bring it to you straight away!” he said as he popped out of sight.

“There,” said Harry easily, “that’s taken care of.  Now we can discuss what happened…or what didn’t happen.”

Harry watched as Minerva closed her eyes, took a deep breath and steeled herself for the upcoming conversation.

“Harry, first of all, why don’t you tell me why you chose to go back?  If it wasn’t for my sake — then why?  Surely you didn’t want to put yourself through all that again…” said McGonagall as she chose her words carefully.

Harry cringed and raked his hand through his hair.  All this dialogue was excessively girly — it was much too analytical for his taste.  “All right, Professor,” agreed Harry reluctantly.  “When you mentioned this to me I decided to go along because of Fred, mostly,” admitted Harry as he looked to Ginny keenly.

“And this is because Mr. Weasley was killed during the battle?” paraphrased McGonagall, making sure she understood Harry clearly.  Kreacher then reappeared with tea and scones, setting the service in front of them and Disapparating quietly so as not to disturb the conversation.

“Sort of,” explained Harry.  “He was killed just as the battle started.  He wasn’t killed by a Death Eater…he was hit by an explosion on the fifth-floor.  It killed him instantly…” remembered Harry quietly.  “Part of the wall blew in and hit him…he was just gone.  Anyway, after we talked I just felt I should do something to help the Weasleys.  Fred was like my brother — Fred was Ginny and Ron’s brother.  If I could do something to help him I felt like I should.  But then Ginny and Hermione changed my mind.”

Minerva raised her eyebrows at Ginny.  She had underestimated the girl’s power over Harry.

“My brother wouldn’t have wanted that,” said Ginny simply in explanation to Minerva’s reaction.  “He never would have wanted Harry to risk his life to go back to save him.  That wasn’t Fred.”

“You’re very right, Miss Weasley,” agreed Dumbledore with a nod of his head.  “Go on, Harry.”

“After what happened in the battle and how I defeated Voldemort, I was having a difficult time believing it really happened,” said Harry pensively as he took Ginny’s hand in his, leaning into her for support.  “I just kept wondering – when I woke up tomorrow, would it would truly be over?  Then you offered me the Time-turner and I realized I could see everything one more time — to make some sense out of it if that’s even possible.”  Harry laughed nervously and then focused on Ginny.  “I want a life, a future.  I want to be able to move on without having to dwell on this every day the way I have for the past seven years,” he said tenderly as he looked at Ginny’s face.  “I also realized this was a way to show Ginny what happened without really having to explain it myself.

“I figured I could talk to Snape once more…ask him why.  I guess I just reckoned it would be the perfect way to solve my problem and no one would know the difference.  That is, until we came back and Fred and Tonks were still alive,” admitted Harry shakily with a shrug of his shoulders.  “We didn’t mean to change anything.  We didn’t want to change anything.  I’m really sorry,” apologized Harry sincerely.

“You talked to Severus?” asked McGonagall in disbelief.

“Yes we did,” said Harry.

Minerva looked to Dumbledore for a clue about Harry’s conversation.  Dumbledore shook his head indicating he knew nothing about it.

“I should’ve trusted Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall,” said Harry regretfully.  “I should’ve trusted Professor Dumbledore,” he said as he looked at the old headmaster with sadness.  “Would you like to see the conversation, professors?” asked Harry thoughtfully.

Both headmasters nodded their heads in unison.  Harry crossed to the pensieve and muttered an incantation, stringing an opalescent memory from just above his ear and then dropping it into the basin.  Once he’d stirred it around he said another spell and the memory sprang forth from the bowl, replaying itself in the centre of the office.

Harry’s eyes pricked with fresh emotion as he watched the discourse, holding tightly to Ginny as Snape made his peace and then walked away for the final time.  Once the memory played out, Harry retrieved the memory and replaced it.

Shaking his head and chuckling simultaneously, Dumbledore breathed, “Simply amazing.”

McGonagall looked to the teens in astonishment.  She then looked to Dumbledore with tears in her eyes.  “Albus…I’m so sorry,” she rued.  “I should have trusted you!  We all should have trusted you.  Why did he do that?  Why did he not tell us?” she wailed with grief.  “All those years we questioned his loyalties!  All the time he put up with the Order’s vague generalities and guarded words!”

“It’s just as I told Harry, Minerva.  His secrets were not mine to tell,” answered Albus. 

Minerva rounded on Harry.  “You dear, dear boy!  All the things you’ve been through!  Of all the wrongs you’ve suffered at his hand and yet you went back!  You went back to implore him to save himself!” cried McGonagall as she shook her head in amazement.  “It wasn’t enough for you to prove your worth and greatness by eliminating Voldemort, you’ve gone and proved it again by extending your hand to Severus!  My Merlin…how proud James and Lily must be at this moment…” she said in wonder.

Harry was uncomfortable when the headmistress was crying earlier — he was doubly uncomfortable as she made this outburst.

“Minerva, I can assure you, everyone is proud of Harry.  Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus — me…” said Dumbledore with a warm smile directed at Harry.  “I’ve always been proud of you, Harry.”

Blinking back uncomfortable tears at Dumbledore’s admission, Harry sat huddled in the loveseat with Ginny, wincing at the conversation’s unfortunate turn.  Sensing his unease, Ginny artfully steered the subject back to the matter at hand.  “The only thing we did was talk to Professor Snape.  We went to see Harry die in the forest, but we didn’t talk to anyone or interact with anyone in any way.  How could that one conversation change things so drastically?  Wouldn’t it have been better for Tonks to die with Lupin instead of living like this?” said Ginny emphatically.  “Is this kind of existence something she would have wanted?”

Ginny stood up from the loveseat and started to pace, eager to have a turn to explain herself.  “I’m devastated that Fred is gone, but in a small way I’m happy that at least this time Mum and Dad got to be with him.  George got to be with him as it happened.  The family was able to say goodbye instead of just seeing his dead body carried like a lump into the Great Hall…” she rambled emotionally.  “I’m so worried about what we changed!  Already these two things have been terrible!  What else have we affected?”

Sensing her student’s distress, Minerva stood, poured a cup of tea and handed it to Ginny.  “Please sit, dear,” she said gently.  “Let me tell you what I know.  Then we’ll try to assess the rest of the situation.”

Ginny sat back down on the loveseat gratefully, temporarily mollified.  Harry appeared pensive, as if he was lost in another world.

McGonagall continued.  “This is what I know of your family, Ginny: Everyone except Fred made it through the battle with minor scrapes and bruises.  Fred, indeed, was injured in an explosion on the fifth-floor.  He was helped to the hospital wing by Bill and Percy, who both then returned to the battle.  At one point, Ginny, you were very nearly killed by Bellatrix Lestrange.  At that time your mum challenged her to a duel and subsequently killed her by using an Unforgivable curse.  I will not repeat it at this time, as it’s not necessary to dwell on such matters.  Your mum did what she had to do to defend herself and her family and in the process rid the world of a very evil woman.  She did the right thing.”

“Remus Lupin arrived, as you know, along with you and the twins.  He duelled several Death Eaters on the lawn after the battle began.  I do know, at some point, he was engaged with Antonin Dolohov; however I do not know if that’s how he perished.  Unfortunately, I was not with him at the time and I have not had the opportunity to research the particulars of his situation.

“I have heard though, Nymphadora joined him at some point.  I can only assume she joined him on the lawn,” finished McGonagall.

“You don’t know anything more than that?” said Ginny with annoyance.  “What about Colin?” she asked with evident concern for her classmate.

McGonagall’s eyes clouded with sadness.  “Unfortunately Mr. Creevey is also gone.  He defied my orders and returned to the battle.  He was killed on the lawn.”

Harry snapped back to the present when Colin’s fate was mentioned.  “It’s almost as if the only changes were things I wanted to do before you tried to stop me,” he speculated as he looked to Ginny and then between the headmistress and Dumbledore.  “Why would those things happen if nothing else changed?”

“It is feasible your conversation with Severus changed the timeline of events in the village enough to affect the battle on the lawn,” offered Dumbledore.  “It would be a curious consequence, though,” he said.  “The only way to truly know is to see what originally happened after Severus fled Hogwarts and then what transpired after he left you in the forest — which is impossible.”

Everyone sitting in the office nodded in agreement.

Ginny turned back to the headmistress.  “So what you’re saying, essentially nothing changed for the most part.  Voldemort is gone.  Harry still almost died in the forest and then still defeated him in the Great Hall by disarming him?” asked Ginny.  “The final confrontation still ended by Harry telling Tom to get some remorse?”

McGonagall and Dumbledore both laughed softly.  “Yes, Ginny.  That’s exactly how it happened.  You were nearly killed which then caused your mum to duel Bellatrix, killing her.  Then the most curious thing happened: Voldemort turned on your mum to shoot a Killing Curse when she was shielded from nowhere…suddenly Harry reappeared, the Great Hall broke into pandemonium and the final confrontation began.  It sounds like the battle ended the same way both times,” confirmed McGonagall.

“I shielded Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry humbly.  “I was actually watching both Voldemort’s and Bellatrix’s duels simultaneously, not sure which one I should help with.  Then Ginny was nearly killed and something inside me snapped…I pulled off my Invisibility Cloak and ended it,” recounted Harry uneasily.  “I still can’t believe it’s over.”

Silence fell across the office as its occupants found themselves at a loss for what to say next.  Ginny squirmed next to Harry, still irked with Professor McGonagall and her explanation of the night’s events.  Dumbledore considered his students from the portrait, concentrating on Harry, who was still noticeably lost in his own thoughts.

“Harry, you have something on your mind,” said Dumbledore.  “Do you care to speak about it?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably next to Ginny.  A pained look crossed his face as he briefly considered what to say, glancing inadvertently at the headmistress and then back to Dumbledore’s portrait.

“Professor,” Harry directed to his mentor, “I’ve been thinking about the station.”

“Ah, yes,” stated the old man, “I thought you might have additional questions.  In fact, I quite expected them,” he quipped.  Dumbledore assessed his student’s demeanour and realized the boy was uncomfortable with his present company as such — he then chose to tactfully alter the situation.

“Minerva,” manoeuvred Dumbledore, “might I trouble you for some private time with Harry and Ginny?  If you’ll return to the hospital wing I’ll send them to you straight away once we’ve finished our conversation then you can help them assess what else, if anything, has changed.  I’m also sure Molly will be anxious for their return.  Would you be so kind as to inform her of their whereabouts and tell her they’ll rejoin the family shortly?”

Slightly miffed by her sudden dismissal, McGonagall rose from her spot in the conjured armchair and crinkled her nose at her friend.  “Of course, Albus,” she answered shortly.  Turning on her heel with once last look at the students, the old Transfiguration professor quit the room, shutting the door a little more loudly than necessary.

“I sensed you may be uncomfortable talking about your experience with me while Professor McGonagall was about,” stated Dumbledore to Harry.  “I did not, however, assume your feelings would extend to Miss Weasley.  Am I correct?”

“Yes sir,” said Harry gratefully.  “The station’s something I’ve been thinking about…well I started thinking about it differently while we were sitting here, anyway.”

“How’s that?” asked Dumbledore.

Harry turned his head and smiled at his girlfriend uneasily.  Returning his attention to the portrait he explained himself.  “I think I want Ginny to see what happened at King’s Cross, Professor,” declared Harry firmly.

Dumbledore smiled warmly at the pair.  “I thought you might, Harry,” he said with understanding.  “Are you asking my permission?”

“Not exactly, Professor,” clarified Harry.  “I just felt like I should include you.  Our conversation was private and I didn’t want to take Ginny there without you.  I reckoned it was something we should all do together.”

“I’m afraid I have something to confess,” admitted the man sheepishly.  “I had my own reasons for hoping you’d choose to use the Time-turner, Harry.”

“You did?” squawked Harry.  “Why would you want me to go back?”

“I had hoped you’d choose to revisit the scene in the Forbidden Forest — that you would revisit the events following Voldemort’s Killing Curse and what happened immediately thereafter,” explained Dumbledore.  “You knew Tom killed you, but you didn’t witness it firsthand — you didn’t see it actually happen.  You didn’t witness the consequences of his actions.  My wish was by seeing yourself revive from the curse; you could truly accept the Horcrux was no longer a part of you…that you are now completely free…”  said Dumbledore.  “You have no idea how I wish I could be there for you now, if only just to give you a well-deserved hug.”

“Unfortunately,” continued Dumbledore, “I may have led Minerva to believe she was doing the right thing by asking you to go back…  Again, my ambiguous advice has created a quandary,” said the old man regretfully.

“I’m sure she’ll forgive you,” said Harry, smiling at his mentor.  “I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side, though,” he said with a mock cringe and a shudder.  “You can be downright vile — I was having flashbacks of Uncle Vernon,” mocked Harry with a hearty laugh.

Dumbledore smirked at his student’s cheek and pointed to the basin, indicating Harry should get on with things.  Harry raised his eyebrows at the old man, giving him one last chance to say no, but Dumbledore nodded his assent.  Harry gave Ginny a small hug of reassurance and stepped back over to the pensieve, dropping in yet another memory — this one much longer and pearlier than its predecessor.  Swirling it around in the basin gently, Harry turned round to the portrait and Ginny.  “Are you ready?” he asked tremulously.

“Let us venture into the mist, Mr. Potter,” stated Dumbledore mystically as Ginny looked at Harry in wonder.

Harry waved his wand as the scene from King’s Cross started to fill the room before them — immediately causing Ginny to collapse into a fit of giggles.

“Oi! Oh…, I’m so sorry, Harry,” chuckled Ginny as red flooded her ears and cheeks and she clapped her hands over her eyes.  “I know this is supposed to be serious, but well…I wasn’t expecting the first thing I’d see was you lying starkers on a slab…” she giggled uncomfortably as Dumbledore grinned from his portrait.

“Bollocks,” muttered Harry under his breath as mortification flooded his face, “I forgot about that part.”

Chuckling at Harry’s expense, Dumbledore addressed Ginny.  “Miss Weasley, if you’d be more comfortable looking away, I assure you Mr. Potter thinks to clothe himself eventually.”

“Oh, that’s good,” breathed Ginny in relief, still averting her gaze from the scene playing out in the centre of the room.  “I love him and all, but I’m not quite prepared for all that quite yet!” she said fretfully, still embarrassed by seeing Harry so intimately in front of Dumbledore.  “Imagine what Mum would say.”

“I assure you, Miss Weasley,” promised Dumbledore, “your secret is safe with me…ah…it looks as if Harry has found some robes now.  You may rejoin us if you wish.”

Still stunned by his forgetfulness, Harry was thankful Ginny wasn’t trying to take the mickey out of him.  He wasn’t sure how to act.  Focusing on the memory playing out in the office, Harry looked again at the grotesque child-thing lying under the seats…

Ginny watched, enraptured, as she experienced the mist rise around her as she found herself in a high-domed building that looked remarkably like King’s Cross.  Now she understood why Harry was referring to the train station and why he was uncomfortable discussing it with McGonagall in the room.  She watched the memory Harry investigate a horribly disfigured and maimed child lying helpless under a bank of chairs — she felt disgusted by the thing and felt an immediate urge to turn away from it.  Ginny rose from the loveseat and urged Harry to return to the seat with her, wrapping his arm securely around her shoulders while she watched the memory play out before her.

Ginny watched in breathless wonder as Dumbledore explained his theory about Voldemort to Harry; she cried with Dumbledore as he spoke of Ariana and broke down in his moment of weakness; she sat entranced at the discussion regarding the Hallows and Horcruxes; and finally felt Harry’s palpable indecision regarding whether to return from the station…the entire experience left her feeling dizzy and amazed at the wondrous place Harry had found himself.  Ginny knew she’d never see another thing like it again in her lifetime as she looked at Harry in astonishment at what he’d experienced; almost disbelieving he actually chose to return from that mysterious place.  At a loss for words, she sat in silence in Harry’s one-armed embrace, waiting for the men to continue the conversation.

“That was quite an experience, Harry.  Thank you for sharing it with me,” said Dumbledore graciously from the portrait.  “While it seems we portraits are sometimes omniscient, in fact, we are not.  If you hadn’t taken the time to explain it to me after the battle, I’d not have known what you encountered when you crossed over…I’m pleased I was there to guide you in your time of need.  Quite illuminating...” offered the old man with a smile. “Unfortunately, my imprint does not remember the moment of my crossing…otherwise I’d not have been so keen to see yours.”

Harry smiled at his headmaster.  It was easy to forget the portrait was just that — a portrait.  “That was just as amazing the second time.  I think I’ll store this in a bottle for safe-keeping…I’d hate to lose it, don’t you think?” Harry asked Ginny, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Harry…I…I just don’t know what to say,” admitted Ginny finally.  “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“You’re welcome, Ginny,” answered Harry as he gave Ginny his trademark intense gaze, causing her to shiver slightly.  “I wanted you to see it.  I know I tried earlier, but I never could have explained it properly.  Besides, I thought it might mean more for you to see it in real life.  Do you remember what I told you by the lake?” asked Harry.

Ginny screwed up her eyebrows as she thought for a moment.  “You told me you loved me,” she said.  “After that, it’s really hard to remember anything else because I had problems paying attention after that,” admitted Ginny regretfully.

Dumbledore chuckled from the wall as Ginny blushed.  Harry laughed.

“Well, yeah,” said Harry chuckling along with her.  “I did tell you that.  It’s okay, it was kind of hard to stay focused after we did all that admitting,” he stated, wrapping her in another sideways hug and giving her another kiss on the cheek.

“What I haven’t told you yet is all of what was going through my mind right before you saw me starkers in that memory,” said Harry as he shuddered at the thought of his inadvertent exposure.  “When Voldemort killed me — or didn’t kill me, rather — my very last conscious thought was of you.  I thought about kissing you,” said Harry with a sigh, looking deep into Ginny’s eyes.  “I was thinking about loving you,” he said simply.

“Oh,” breathed Ginny stupidly as all her faculties left her and she melted into Harry, kissing him for all she was worth.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her firmly, entangling her fingers in his sloppy hair, sliding her hands along his back and then up his chest and back up into his hair again.  As they continued to kiss, Dumbledore politely turned his head to let the teenagers have their moment, allowing them space to process the emotions they’d just shared.

Ginny, meanwhile, was kissing Harry like there was no tomorrow — squeezing out every molecule of air that separated them, sealing herself to him like glue.  The weight of his admission coupled with the experience of the memory hit her like bricks: Harry’s last dying thought had been of her.  Ginny felt an overwhelming urge to scream at the portraits to abandon their frames immediately — she wanted to be with Harry, really be with him.  She wanted all of him, every part of him, and she wanted it right now.  Right there.  She kissed him with the intent of relaying that message implicitly.

Harry, who was sure he was again in heaven, felt Ginny’s hands running through his hair and then along his body.  When she started to run her hands along his stomach he very nearly pushed her down into the loveseat.  She continued her exploration as he fought an internal battle between his mind and body over whether to follow his heart or better judgment.  Judgment was victorious.

“Ginny,” begged Harry, breathing raggedly.  “Ginny, not here…Dumbledore…conversation…still need… to…talk,” he said between nibbles.  He had his arms wrapped tightly about her waist with his hands in her long, glorious, fiery hair.  Her breasts were heaving against him and he could feel her beating heart…he wasn’t sure he could handle much more before he did something wholly inappropriate in front of the headmaster and all the other portraits…

Dumbledore coughed from the portrait, sensing Harry’s need for respite.  Catching his eye briefly from the tangled fray in front of the loveseat, Dumbledore winked and gave him a thumbs-up.  Frustrated, Ginny gave up temporarily and pulled away from Harry with a petulant look.

“I’m sorry, Gin,” apologized Harry dolefully as he straightened the rumples from his shirt and smoothed his tousled hair.  Ginny followed his example and tidied her own dishevelled clothes, trying desperately to catch her breath.  “I just have a couple more things to ask Professor Dumbledore.  Then I’ll be completely finished.”

“Oh, all right,” said Ginny, admitting defeat as she plopped down.  “I will have my way with you, one way or the other,” she muttered.

Harry’s eyes doubled in size as he blushed bright red.  Dumbledore laughed out loud.

“Harry, one word of advice: it’s always wise to keep the woman in your life happy,” counselled Dumbledore.

Harry gaped at the old man owlishly.

“You’re of age…I hardly think I can condemn true love.”

Harry cringed.

Dumbledore slapped his knee and laughed again.  “Oh how I will miss you, my boy.  It really is unfortunate I didn’t commission another portrait!  How I might have liked to hang in your home as well…” he rambled.  “A Potter and a Weasley – it’s James and Lily all over again.  What a joy you’ll be.”

Ginny smirked at Harry.

“I guess he knows something we don’t.  What is it with everyone all the sudden?” said Harry sarcastically.  “Can I ask you a few more things before you fall off your chair?” he said, rolling his eyes in frustration at the old man’s amusement.

“Most certainly!” exclaimed Dumbledore.  Steadying himself from his merriment, he returned his full attention to the young man before him.

“The thing at the station…that was the Horcrux wasn’t it?” asked Harry seriously.  “I guessed it was the first time, but after seeing it again, I was pretty positive.  It was the last part of his soul, wasn’t it?  The one that was attached to me?”

Becoming immediately serious, Dumbledore pondered Harry’s question.  “Yes, Harry, I believe it was,” he answered honestly.

“And the reason it was so disgusting…so cut and flayed — that’s from all the evil, right?  That’s all the damage he did to his soul by using dark magic…by creating the Horcruxes…” speculated Harry.

“Once again you do not disappoint,” stated Dumbledore.  “You have a remarkable insight, Harry.  You should trust yourself more,” he praised.  “That thing — that piece of soul — was beyond help.  You could do nothing for it.  It was unfortunate you had to share your experience in the In-Between with it, in my opinion. Alas, it could not be helped.  The Horcrux was part of you therefore it had to die along with you.  I fear if I had not happened upon you, your noble Gryffindor nature would have led you to help the poor, besotted thing.  You owed it nothing.  Don’t spare it another thought.”

Harry nodded his head in agreement, showing he did indeed understand what the headmaster was telling him.  “I’ll try, Professor Dumbledore.”

“Please do,” asserted his mentor.

Winking at Ginny, Harry turned back one last time to his headmaster.  “We picked up the Resurrection Stone while we were in the forest,” he said.

Dumbledore smiled.  “What do you plan to do with it?” he asked.

“I reckon I’d like for Ginny’s family to be able to say goodbye to Fred.  I’d like to see Remus and Sirius one more time.  I’d like to introduce Ginny to my parents.  Do you think it can work that way?”

Try holding it together while you turn it,” offered Dumbledore.  “To be honest, not much is known about the Stone.  I assure you, though; your parents are quite taken with Miss Weasley.  You have nothing to worry about on that account.”

“Okay, we’ll try it then,” said Harry.  “When we’re finished I’m going to throw it into the lake.”

“I assume you’ll be replacing the Elder Wand as well?” asked Dumbledore.

“Yes,” affirmed Harry.  “Before I leave I will return the Wand.  I do not want it.  Besides, Ginny is the Wand’s master now, anyway.”

“Oh, that’s right,” chuckled Dumbledore.  “Those canaries were quite ingenious.  While the Bogeys always intrigued me, I knew you’d have something better up your sleeve,” he said, addressing Ginny directly.

“Well, I have Hermione to thank for that one,” said Ginny sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders.

“Clever witch, that girl,” agreed Dumbledore.

“We both think the Wand should be returned,” agreed Ginny.  “I have no use for it, either.”

“Very good, then.  If this is all, you have family waiting anxiously for you in the hospital wing.  Miss Weasley, I offer you and your family my most sincere condolences on the loss of Fred.  He was a wonderful, loyal and ingenious man,” said Dumbledore affectionately.  “While you will still grieve his loss, I hope the events of this evening bring you some measure of comfort, knowing he’s in a peaceful place.  You will be with him again, I assure you.”

“Thank you, Professor,” said Ginny as she wiped her eyes.  Harry drew her nearer to him and offered the headmaster a grateful look.

“Go forth, children.  Prosper.  Do well.  Live large.  Forge new paths.  Love each other — but most of all, remember to have fun,” advised Dumbledore as he clapped his hands, his eyes glistening.  “Life is nothing without happiness.”

“We will, Professor, we will,” said Harry as he steered Ginny toward the door.  With a look and a wave over his shoulder, he bid his old friend goodbye.