Disclaimer: I own nothing; it all belongs to J.K.Rowling. I’m just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Harry awoke from a rough night’s sleep the following morning just before dawn. It took his foggy mind a moment to recall the events of the previous night. He wrapped a blanket from his bed around his shoulders and sat on the window seat, watching the sunrise. He’d spent more than a few mornings here in this same position since he’d first come to Hogwarts.

As his mind drifted over the events that had occurred in Dumbledore’s office, he shuddered and sighed wearily. He had seen Snape’s memories of the night his parents were murdered. He had somehow forced Snape out of his own head and then broken into Snape’s mind. Thinking about it, he realized it must have been Snape whom he had followed into the burning house. He vaguely recalled following someone up the stairs. He couldn’t get the image of his mother’s lifeless face to leave his mind, no matter how much he tried to force it away. He didn’t know why it was bothering him so now; it’s not as though he hadn’t seen the image before, when the Dementors came too near. This was different somehow, and he shuddered again trying to shake it.

He wondered if Snape had been the one to take him from the house all those years ago. It must have been him. He hadn’t seen anyone else there, and he couldn’t imagine even Snape leaving a baby alone in a burning building. Wouldn’t that have cancelled the life debt Snape owed Harry’s father? It was an unsettling feeling to know that crying baby had been him. It left Harry feeling nettled and unstrung. His head was already aching; why did it have to be one thing after another? Just when something went right, it seemed as if something else had to fall apart. For neither can live while the other survives…

Snape couldn’t have been with Voldemort when Voldemort arrived that night; the memory was clearly of Snape entering the house after the destruction. But why was he there at all? He must have been nearby when it was happening. Harry was determined to get some answers.

He needed to talk to Professor Dumbledore, but would his Headmaster give him honest answers? Somehow, Harry doubted it. Remus might know more, too, but he was dealing with his own issues right now. Harry couldn’t believe Remus had hit Snape. He’d never seen him like that before, not even right after Sirius had died. Harry remembered the look on Remus’s face and was troubled by it. He hoped he was okay. He also wondered what had been said between Dumbledore and Snape after Harry had left.

Dobby had brought Harry back to Gryffindor tower and taken him right up to bed, keeping the others from questioning him. He had been happy about that at the time; he really hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone until he got some things straight in his head. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had all been waiting for him, and he knew they’d be looking for some explanations today. He decided, then and there, that he wasn’t going to keep this from them, also; there were too many secrets already. Maybe they could help. Maybe they’d have some ideas about clues that Harry was missing. Showing them his photo album at Halloween had definitely helped; this was just more than he could handle on his own. He decided he would talk to them later; first, he needed some air.

Dressing quickly and grabbing his Firebolt, Harry headed down to the Quidditch pitch. His mind always worked better when he was up in the air.

Ginny woke up early on Saturday and headed down to the common room. She was still riding on a high from the previous night; she was going to the Ball with Harry. And he had asked her. He Had Asked Her. He had done it!

The night before, she’d waited for him to finish his Occlumency lesson, but when he’d returned to Gyffindor tower with Dobby, it had been blatantly obvious something was wrong. Harry had been ashen and physically leaning on Dobby for support. Hermione had tried to question the house elf about it, but Dobby wouldn’t tell them anything except that Professor Snape was a bad man, and Professor Dumbledore had said to put Harry to bed. Dobby would not be deterred and had left them with strict orders not to wake Harry up.

Ginny stayed awake in the common room for a while with Ron and Hermione to discuss Harry. Ron was convinced Snape must have hexed him. Hermione, always the more rational one, kept reminding him how drained Harry always was after his Occlumency sessions with Snape. Ron insisted that this was because Snape was weakening him for Voldemort. Ginny just rolled her eyes; she’d heard all these arguments before. Harry’s return in his unfortunate state had unsettled them, but she remembered, just before heading up to bed, to tell them that Harry had asked her to go to the Ball. They both seemed pleased. It would be fun to all be there together.

A flash of motion outside the common room window brought her back to the present. Glancing out, she saw a familiar blur zooming above the Quidditch pitch. He was flying hard, and she could tell he was upset. Ginny ran upstairs to change and headed outside to see what was going on with her favorite Seeker.

She watched him loop and dive, as she made her way toward the pitch; he really was a remarkable specimen. She couldn’t help herself being infatuated with him; there was something about him that made every eye in a room look his way. He was one of those people who commanded attention without even speaking. His attempts to divert it from himself were endearing, but they never worked. It was because of this presence he carried; when he was around, people noticed. Ginny had always noticed.

Harry saw her standing on the edge of the pitch and swooped down beside her. "Hi," he breathed, giving her one of those lopsided grins she found so engaging.

"Hi, yourself. You’re out here early."

"Yeah, had a lot on my mind."

"You want to talk about it?"

"Yeah," he said, sighing, although Ginny had the distinct impression he didn’t really want to talk at all. "It’s a long story. Do you mind if I tell you when Ron and Hermione are around, too?"

He only wanted to go through it once; she could respect that. "Of course not, Harry."

"Want to go flying?"

"Okay. I have to go back and get my broom though."

Harry slid up on his Firebolt and glanced backwards. "I’ve got room," he said shyly, his cheeks turning pink.

Ginny’s heart soared; the idea of riding on the broom with Harry thrilled her. She swung her leg over the broom and, for an instant, was unsure what to do with her hands. She started to grab his shoulders but thought he’d have difficulty flying so, instead, wrapped her arms around his waist. She could feel the muscles in his abdomen constrict at her touch and was instantly aware of every part of her body that touched his. She leaned into his back and thrilled at the sensations washing over her. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh, earthy scent that was all Harry.

"I’m ready," she said, her voice coming out in a croak.

Harry lifted off the ground. Ginny wasn’t sure if the exhilaration she felt was from the flight or the closeness to Harry. She tried to keep still but couldn’t help it when she ran her hand up his chest as he picked up speed. She could tell that Harry was as aware of her presence as she was of his, and that thought pleased her.

Ginny couldn’t help but let out a scream of delight as he dove at breakneck speed toward the ground. She could feel Harry’s chest rippling as he chuckled over her screams. The more she yelled, the more daring he became, and soon the two of them were laughing hysterically.

Ginny wasn’t even aware of the cold as they looped and dove out over Hagrid’s hut and the Forbidden Forest. The heat radiating from their bodies was enough to warm the whole castle, she reckoned. It was thrilling, exhilarating, and breathtaking all at once to be up here with him, and Ginny was enjoying every minute. Leaning sideways, she could see the grin on Harry’s face and knew he was enjoying the ride, too.

After a while, both decided they were hungry and should head back to the castle. Ron and Hermione would be up by now, and they could join them for breakfast. Harry took Ginny’s hand as they walked back up the stairs, and she grinned in delight. There were times, a few years ago, that she never believed this would be possible.

"All right, Harry?" she asked, feeling certain he was now.

Harry gave her another lopsided smile. "You always make me feel better."

Ginny’s heart just about burst out of her chest, then and there.

As the week passed by, however, Harry’s frustration grew. Despite its brilliant start after the broom ride with Ginny, his week seemed to be going from bad to worse. He’d told Ron, Hermione, and Ginny about what had happened during Occlumency, most of it, anyway. The specific image of his mother was just too hard to share, so he kept that part vague. His friends were just as shocked as he had been by the events, although Ron had trouble hiding his glee at the thought of Remus decking Snape. Dumbledore had inquired about Harry’s well-being, but, as yet, hadn’t set aside a time to talk about what Harry had seen. He had the distinct impression the Headmaster was avoiding him.

Potions class had been awkward, if not downright hostile. Harry had the feeling Snape wanted to say something to him, but he seemed almost reticent to even approach Harry. For the first time ever, Harry got through a Potions class without being insulted. He was seething inside and continued to glare until Hermione tugged on his robes and forced his attention back on his classwork.

Remus hadn’t returned to the castle all week. It was a full moon, but Harry knew there was more than just that. He continued to meet with Tonks for his lessons, but she refused to comment or discuss Remus’s thoughts with him. She seemed to feel badly about her evasiveness and repeatedly tried to reassure Harry that everything was okay. He wasn’t buying any of it.

Even Ginny was acting strangely. After their flight on the Firebolt, Harry was feeling more confident about the direction their friendship was headed. The next day, however, Ginny seemed to retreat into herself and refused to meet his eyes. Whenever he entered the common room, she’d disappear, and, for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what he’d done or why she was avoiding him.

To top it all off, Professor McGonagall gave them a test for which he had completely forgotten to study. He’d been so wrapped up in the DA and everything that was going on with Snape that it had completely slipped his mind.

McGonagall was going to kill him. After she’d gone to bat for him, too; he didn’t want to let her down. As they took the test, he tried to focus and squeeze the information from the recesses of his mind. No matter how hard he tried, it seemed not to want to cooperate at all. He could see Hermione sitting in front of him, hunched over her paper, writing furiously. Concentrating on her, he wished he could force the information from her mind onto his own paper.

He began to write what he thought might be the answer, and, to his amazement, the words just seemed to come to him. His hand was having trouble keeping up with the words he was trying to jot down. The answer to question after question seemed to materialize in his head. He wasn’t aware he’d stored so much, but was grateful for it.

By the time the test was finished, Harry not only thought he’d passed, he was quite certain he had done well. He was aware of a feeling like an electrical surge that was flowing through him, just like the one that he’d noticed during Occlumency. He still didn’t know what it meant, but thought it was time to mention it to Dumbledore, and he decided he would do so at their next session.

The last time he’d felt one of these surges, he’d excelled in his classes. This time it happened during a test, and he suddenly got the answers he needed. These events had to be connected, but what did this all mean? Why was it happening now, and how was it connected to Occlumency? Harry decided he would test it the next time he felt a surge beginning.

After preparing for the next DA meeting, he entered the common room and found Ron sitting with his sister. He went over to join them but Ginny got up quickly.

"Hi, Harry, sorry, but I’ve got to run. I told Julia I’d study with her for a Charms test. I’ll see you later," Ginny said in a rush, and before Harry could say a word, she was gone.

"Ron," Harry said tentatively, "did Ginny say anything to you?"

"About what?" Ron asked, although he avoided looking Harry in the eyes.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably and tried to change the subject. "How about a game of chess?"

"What’s going on, Ron? Why is Ginny avoiding me?"

Ron sighed deeply. "It’s the Ball."

Harry’s heart sank. "It’s all right if she’s changed her mind; I won’t be angry. You can tell her I wouldn’t be angry." He felt miserable and wanted nothing more than to escape from that room, crawl into bed and pull the covers over his head.

Ron looked at Harry in confusion, "What?" Then, his eyes seemed to widen in recognition. "Oh, no, Harry. It’s not that. She does want to go; that’s the problem. See…Ginny tried on her dress robes…you know, from before…well…they don’t really fit her anymore. She’s kind of in a panic over what to do. Mum and Dad just bought her a new broomstick, so she can’t really ask for anything else. I told her to ask Fred and George; they bought new ones for me last year."

Ron’s ears were red as he said all this, and Harry knew how sensitive he was about his family’s modest finances. He imagined Ginny probably felt the same. He didn’t think either Ron or Ginny would take it well if he told them about Sirius’s will.

"Thanks, Ron," he said, climbing the stairs. As he climbed, he thought about his own dress robes. He’d grown quite a bit since fourth year himself; he needed to try them on and see if they were still going to fit.

Harry waited for Ginny in the common room before dinner. He’d planted himself on a chair in front of the girl’s stairway and didn’t plan on moving until she came down. He told Ron and Hermione to go on down to dinner without him; he’d catch them up later. Figuring out what he was up to, both left the common room with annoying smirks on their faces.

Ginny’s eyes widened in surprise as she came down the stairs with her roommate Julia.

"Ginny, can I talk to you a minute?" Harry asked before she could speak.

He knew Ginny was about to make up an excuse when Julia said, "I’ll see you at dinner, Ginny," and left without her.

"What’s up, Harry?" she asked, still avoiding his eyes.

"I need some help," Harry said.

Ginny’s eyes went wide, and she immediately looked right at him, all traces of her embarrassment evaporating with the thought that he might be in trouble. "What’s wrong?"

"Well, Ron told me about your dress robes being too small, so I thought I’d try mine on. They don’t fit, either, not even close." Ginny colored as Harry started speaking, so he continued on in a rush. "I’ve got a proposition for you."

Ginny couldn’t help but be intrigued. "Which is?"

"This weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend. Come with me to Madame Verde’s and help pick something out for me to wear--your mum did it for me last time. If you’ll help me, I’ll buy both sets of robes. Please?"

"What do you need me for?"

"I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for; I just want to look okay. You’re a girl, you must know."

Ginny looked at him incredulously. "You think because I’m a girl I automatically know how to shop for dress robes?"

Harry was confused; he knew he was getting himself in trouble but wasn’t sure why. Aunt Petunia loved to shop; she became nearly catatonic every time one of those ladies’ catalogues came in the mail. Parvati and Lavender had talked about nothing else but what to wear to the Ball since Dumbledore’s announcement.

Ginny seemed to take pity on his confusion. "It’s okay, Harry. Actually, I would kind of like to look at the dress robes. I’ll help you find something and let you pay for mine, but I want you to understand that it’s only a loan. I intend on paying you back when I can. We can’t have you buying dress robes for my entire family; you already bought Ron his."

He looked at her in surprise, and his mouth hung open; how did she know that? He didn’t think the twins would have told her.

"It wasn’t that hard to figure out," she answered for him. "It’s not like the twins are the most sensitive blokes on the lot, or that they’d ever take pity on Ron’s plight all on their own. They’d more enjoy teasing him. You didn’t want to keep the money from the Tri-Wizard tournament. Fred and George needed an investor. Ron needed dress robes. Suddenly everyone is happy; no big mystery, really."

Harry was impressed. "Does Ron know?"

"No," Ginny scoffed. "Ron doesn’t really want to know where the money came from. He’s just happy he doesn’t have to wear the maroon lacy ones again. So, do we have a deal?

Harry shrugged; if that’s how she wanted it, it was fine with him. As the two turned to head down to dinner, it occurred to him that he just asked Ginny to go to Hogsmeade with him. Did that mean this was a date? Did he somehow just manage to set up a date without actually intending it that way? Did she think it was a date? Did she want it to be?

He groaned inwardly; why did everything about girls have to be so confusing? For about the thousandth time since that night at the Department of Mysteries, he found himself missing Sirius and wishing he were able to ask for his advice.

He thought back to that day he and Ginny had ridden his Firebolt. It had been a great day, and he had a really good time. He loved the feel of her pressing up against his back as they flew. He’d like to get her on his broom again if he could. His face colored bright red as he realized the double entendre of his thoughts.

He was infinitely glad Ron wasn’t with them, just in case his Divination skills had picked up, and he was somehow able to read that thought. He didn’t think Ron would find him and Ginny stumbling around each other quite so funny anymore.

Despite his nervousness, Harry found himself looking forward to the Hogsmeade weekend more and more. Ron and Hermione were going as well, and he’d promised they’d all meet up with Neville and Luna for a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks.

Midway through the week, Harry had an Occlumency lesson with Professor Dumbledore. The Headmaster greeted him as he came up the moving staircase.

"Fine, sir," Harry answered stiffly.

"You are angry with me."

"You’ve been avoiding me."

"That is true, but I do have my reasons."

"You always have your reasons, sir; you just don’t always like to share them."

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled at this statement, and Harry felt he had been quite delighted by it. "You saw something in Professor’s Snape’s mind about which you have questions. I am afraid, Harry, that they are questions that need to be answered by Professor Snape, not me."

"He’ll never answer me; he’ll just sneer and insult me--you heard him."

"I did, and I have spoken to him about his inappropriate comments. The vision, however, is a memory of his, and I will not divulge anything with which he is not comfortable. I would do the same for you, Harry, and I am afraid that whether or not you like it, you will have to respect that."

Harry didn’t like it, but he could see Professor Dumbledore wasn’t about to change his mind. He’d never get an answer from Snape, so he was no better off than when he’d started. He’d have to go to Remus…

"What interests me, Harry," Dumbledore was saying, "is that you managed to get into Professor Snape’s thoughts without ever having been taught Legilimency. Has this happened before?"

"One time last year in Occlumency lessons."

"How about other than that, outside Occlumency lessons?"

"Outside? How do you mean?"

"Have you found yourself seeing anything that was not your own memory? Any thoughts that were not your own?"

Harry’s mind flashed on his power surges, and Dumbledore must have noticed the flicker of recognition in his eyes. "What is it, Harry?"

"Well, I don’t know really. Just…I’ve had these feelings lately, like a tingling. I’ve been calling them ‘surges’ for lack of a better word. After I have them, I just seem to know stuff."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, like…answers to questions, or how to do something I didn’t know how to do before. I Transfigured something in class before Professor McGonagall had finished giving the instructions on how to do it."

Dumbledore had his fingers in front of his mouth and was nodding. "I see."

"See what? What does it mean?"

"I am not sure yet, but I would like you to pay particular attention when it happens again. I would also like you to come to me if you experience anything else…thoughts or emotions that are not your own."

"Not my own? What are you getting at?"

"Harry, I do not want to put any suggestions in your mind; I would just like to be informed if you notice anything."

Harry sighed; sometimes he felt that trying to talk to Professor Dumbledore was like banging his head repeatedly into a wall. They continued on with their lesson, but Dumbledore didn’t say anything more about the surges.

The day of the Hogsmeade trip dawned crisp and cool. There was a definite feeling of snow in the air, and the students were excited to get into the village and do some Christmas shopping. Harry and Ginny walked with Ron and Hermione into the village before splitting up to go their own separate ways. Harry still wasn’t sure if this really counted as a date or not, but decided to make the most of it, no matter what it was. They headed directly to Madame Verde’s to find their dress robes.

Harry thought they would enter the shop, pull a few things off the rack, Ginny would tell him what was good, and they would be done with it. Reality was another matter entirely.

As they entered the shop, a stiff-looking witch took their cloaks and immediately began measuring the two of them. Ginny chatted happily with the witch helping her, but Harry felt awkward standing there while another witch flicked her measuring tape all over his body. He found it rather embarrassing.

When Ginny told them they were looking for dress robes, the clerks began bringing robe after robe into the fitting room. They held a variety of colors and styles up to Harry’s chest--any one of which would have been fine with him. Ginny was more selective, however, and kept shaking her head decisively.

Harry was beginning to lose his patience; he’d been standing on this ridiculous stool for an awfully long time, and the witches didn’t seem at all inclined to slow down. Every few minutes, they’d send him inside a curtained area to try one on, but nothing seemed to be exactly what they had in mind. Finally, he suggested that since his last robes were green, perhaps that should be the color they should look for. Ginny frowned at him as if he were dense. "Honestly, Harry, if your last robes were green, then you have to choose any color BUT green."

Harry kept his mouth shut after that.

Finally, when he was about to throw his arms up in the air and declare he’d wear his ordinary school robes, he walked out of the changing area and all talking stopped. The two fitters were eyeing him up and down approvingly. When he glanced at Ginny, her mouth was open, and she had a look on her face that made him feel somewhat like the roast at a Christmas dinner.

The dress robes were made of a gray, shimmering material with a black collar and cuffs. He liked the way they felt, and the fit was comfortable.

"H-Harry," Ginny said. "You look amazing."

Harry suddenly liked these robes very much.

"Just look at the way the color makes his eyes stand out; they just jump right off his face," one of the witches said, as if she had designed the robes herself.

"He’ll take them," Ginny answered, then glanced at him while biting her lip. "Won’t you?"

"Yes," Harry exclaimed; not only did Ginny like them, but also it meant he could be done.

"All right, then, Mr. Potter; I’ll make the necessary adjustments and have these sent up to the castle. You can wait for Miss Weasley in the sitting area."

If Harry thought it had taken a long time to find his own robes, it was nothing compared to how long it took Ginny. He was just about to fall asleep when she came out beaming at him.

"I found what I wanted. They’re beautiful. Thank you, Harry."

He smiled and paid the bill. "No problem. We’re going to be late meeting Ron and Hermione, so we’d better hurry up."

As they began walking up the street, the sky finally opened up, and a light snow began to fall.

"Oh, the first snowflakes of the season. They’re supposed to be magical, you know," Ginny squealed in delight.

Harry had to laugh at her. "How exactly are snowflakes magical?"

"Look at all the smiles on everyone’s face as they notice them. That’s magic."

Harry wasn’t sure if he was supposed to argue with that kind of logic. He really didn’t want to argue, anyway, and he did like the snow. Instead, he shyly took her hand in his as they walked. He’d never held anyone’s hand before she came along and found he rather enjoyed it. There was something about the way her smaller hand fit so nicely in his larger one that made him feel protective and strong. It was a nice feeling.

Ginny glanced down at their intertwined fingers, then up at his face, a small smile twisting her lips. Harry knew his face was coloring, and he cursed his fair complexion for giving him away so easily.

"I’ve had fun today," she said, staring at the ground while they walked.

"Fun? Fun? We’ve spent the whole time in Madame Verde’s; we haven’t got to the fun part yet."

"Oh, really? And what would you call the fun part? I had a good time at Madame Verde’s, by the way."

Harry stopped walking and turned to look at her. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

"I’m not! I’ve never really gone on a shopping spree to buy something ‘just for fun’…not a ‘necessity’. I enjoyed myself."

Harry wasn’t really listening to her words; he had suddenly realized how close they were standing. She was a small girl, and she had to crane her neck up to look at him as she spoke. She had snowflakes stuck on her eyelashes. His eyes were magnetically drawn to her soft lips, and he found himself moving closer and closer as she spoke. Idly, he thought it was getting very cold. He wasn’t really thinking about what he was doing; he just felt drawn to her. She realized what he was about to do, and her lips parted–

Suddenly, a scream ripped through the stillness of the moment, and Harry pulled away.

More screams were added to the first, as an explosion sounded from somewhere down the road. Harry could see flames rising up into the darkening sky. The temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees, as Harry became aware of a distant screaming inside his head. He knew that voice, those words she was yelling. It was a voice from his nightmares. He’d also heard it when…

Dementors! The tall, ghastly creatures were emerging from between buildings in droves. The villagers were fully panicking now and running haphazardly, desperately trying to flee from the deadly creatures. Harry watched in horror, as a tall, robed figure pulled back its hood and lowered its mouth to a struggling witch.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry bellowed, forcing himself from his shock-induced stupor. He could feel Ginny trembling beside him, and he wrapped his arm protectively around her. He vaguely recalled that she had problems with the Dementors, too. Prongs shot out from Harry’s wand and galloped down the street, forcing Dementors out of his path. It was too late for the first witch, however, and her body slumped to the ground. Harry felt sick.

"Harry, I still can’t make a Patronus. I just get mist."

Ginny sounded frantic. Smoke was filling the street from whatever was burning up ahead. Harry’s mind was working furiously. "Use the mist, anyway if they get near you; it’ll buy you some time. Go inside there." He pointed to Honeydukes. "Use the Floo to contact Dumbledore and get some Aurors here quickly."

"What about you?"

"I can cast a Patronus; I’m going to try and do what I can."

Ginny nodded and ran inside Honeydukes. Prongs was still charging down Dementors, but there were just too many of them. Harry moved into the middle of the street to get a better look. He could see Hermione’s otter Patronus further up the street and was relieved to know that at least she was all right.

Harry wondered if it were possible to create more than one Patronus at a time? Seeing a group of three Dementors bearing down on a family while Prongs was still working across the street, he decided to try. "Expecto Patronum!"

Another Prongs burst from his wand and charged towards the family. Harry’s legs suddenly felt very weak, and he needed to support himself against the wall. Casting more than one must take a lot out of you. Another explosion rocked the street, and Harry was thrown to the ground, his wand rolling away from him as he fell.

Looking up, he noticed flames coming from the window of Honeydukes. Ginny! He blindly reached for either his wand or his glasses, which he’d also lost during the fall. He could make out the outline of red hair exiting the door, but the Dementors were moving in towards her. His hand found his glasses as terror gripped his heart. "Accio Ginny!" he yelled in fear, then watched as she went sailing across the street and landed right in his arms.

"Harry! How did you do that?"

"I can’t find my wand," he yelled in a panic. Both of his Patronuses were now fading.

"Here it is," Ginny said, handing it back to him.

"Expecto Patronum. Expecto Patronum," he hollered, once again sending Prongs off in each direction.

Ginny’s mouth was gaping, "Two?" She forcibly shook herself back to the matter at hand; there would be time for that later. "Dumbledore already knew about the attack; the Order is on the way."

"They’re going to be too late," Harry yelled, trying to direct Prongs towards a group of shoppers huddled in an alleyway. He left Ginny standing on the sidewalk as he tried to force his Patronus towards those who needed help. Unfortunately, there were just too many in need of help, and the number of soulless victims lying in the street was beginning to add up.

He could see Cho Chang pointing her wand and trying to summon her Patronus, but all she managed was a silver mist that vanished as soon as it appeared. The effects of the Dementors must be getting to her. Harry could hear his mother’s voice loudly now, and he struggled to ignore it. He watched, frozen in horror, as a father tried vainly to shield his children from an approaching Dementor; there was nothing the man could do.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry yelled again. This time, only a faint mist issued from his wand, and Harry dropped to his knees in exhaustion. He watched as the Dementors overtook the family that he’d been trying to help. "Nooo," he moaned, trying to rise up off the ground.

"Harry!"

He heard Ginny’s panicked voice and turned to see two Dementors closing in on him. He hadn’t even noticed their approach. He weakly raised his wand and tried again, "Expecto Patronum," but this time, nothing happened.

The Dementors moved in, and a bony hand reached out to touch his shoulder. Harry’s head filled with his mother’s screams, his father’s warning, Sirius’s shocked face before he fell through the veil. He was aware of the Dementor lowering its hood before it was struck down from behind.

Confused, he tried to focus his whirling thoughts on the silvery image in front of him. He lay there looking at what appeared to be a silver-colored mirror image of…himself brandishing Godric Gryffindor’s sword. He blinked in confusion as ‘Harry’ Patronus bore down on the advancing Dementors. Aurors were arriving on the scene, and he recognized some members of the Order of the Phoenix. He could see Ginny running towards him, her wand out and, as he slipped into unconsciousness, he realized Ginny had successfully conjured her Patronus.

Harry slowly opened his eyes and looked around the fuzzy room. Starched white walls…crisp white sheets…hospital wing, again. He felt miserable, and he tried to force his mind to remember what happened. All the beds in the infirmary seemed to be filled… Hogsmeade. The Dementors. Where was Ginny?

He turned his head and could just make out her blurred form sitting on the next bed, munching on some chocolate. Damn it! Why couldn’t I even finish a normal date?

Ginny noticed his movement and smiled at him. "Hi, Sleepyhead. How are you feeling?"

In truth, Harry felt awful--too weak to even lift his head. The Dementors still had a powerful effect on him. "Fine," he answered.

Ginny smirked at him. "Right. I’m certain you’re feeling just peachy."

Harry couldn’t help the reluctant grin that spread over his face. "Yeah, well, I suppose I’ve been better." A thought occurred to him. "I think I owe you one."

Ginny blushed crimson. "Maybe now we can call it even?"

"Thank you. You cast a Patronus."

Harry didn’t think it was possible, but Ginny seemed to blush an even deeper shade of red. "Oh, I certainly did. You saw it, too, then?"

He was Ginny’s Patronus; that fact hadn’t quite registered yet. He smiled and felt his own cheeks grow warm. He didn’t know for sure what it meant for her, but it pleased him. It would mean that, somehow, he could always be with her to protect her, and that was important to him.

She noticed his distress and quickly reassured him. "It’s okay! It makes it feel as though the one good thing from that whole experience won out in the end." Ginny turned even more red when she realized what she had said, but he was pleased.

"Congratulations on the Patronus, Ginny. I think I like the form it takes."

She smiled at him and while smoothing her bed covers said, "I like the form it takes, too."

Harry felt the emotions of the day wash back over him. "How bad was it?" Visions of the family he had tried to save swam in his mind; if only he could have just cast one more Patronus…

"Pretty bad; I don’t know for certain. It was so awful. Ron and Hermione were here, but Madam Pomfrey made anyone who didn’t need a bed leave. It was just too crowded. Dumbledore was here to check on you--she made him leave, too."

Harry smiled weakly; he would have liked to have seen Madam Pomfrey chasing Dumbledore from the hospital wing. Ginny watched him closely. "Harry, none of it was your fault. In fact, there would be many more casualties than there were if not for you. Even the other students who were able to cast a Patronus could do it because you taught them how."

"Wandless….what wandless magic?"

"Umm…’Accio Ginny’ ring any bells?"

Harry looked at her in confusion, then remembered summoning her from across the street when he couldn’t find his wand. I did it again! Maybe there was something to it…

Harry sat in stunned silence. This is just great, another reason to be different. He was interrupted by Madam Pomfrey. "Well, I see you’re awake, Mr. Potter. Tell me, is there a bed here in the Infirmary you prefer? You’ve used them all. Perhaps we should set one aside and have your name emblazoned on it to keep it in reserve?"

Harry remained silent, and she waved her wand over him and tut-tutted at her findings. She placed the biggest chunk of chocolate Harry had ever seen on the table beside his bed. "You’re not to get out of that bed until that chocolate is gone. Completely."

Harry just gaped at her. "Gone? That whole thing? My teeth will fall out."

Madam Pomfrey smiled primly. "I could fix that."

A/N: The first round draft of this chapter was done at the beginning of March using what always felt right to me for Ginny’s Patronus, the image of Harry with Godric Gryffindor’s sword. A big thank you to Peskipipski for offering to share this image. Of course, on March 4, JKR came out with her webcast that said a Patronus had to be an animal form, so that scrapped that! After I had reworked it, I got a review from Josh Maxwell who reminded me that technically, a human is an animal. DUH! At first I wasn’t going to change it back, but the more I thought about it, this just seems right to me. Hope you enjoy. Please R/R and let me know.

Thank you again to Mistral and ChaoticK, for tirelessly fixing my edits and giving me new things to think about with their comments. I really appreciate you two.