20. Some Day I’ll Wish Upon a Star

“I’ll kill’em!” exploded Ernie. Jonathon rolled his eyes at him.

“What’s a Pukwdgie?” asked Harry tentatively.

“Nasty little thieving buggers, I’m gunna hunt ‘em down and I’m gunna kill’em!”

“Calm down Ernie, it’s not that bad,” said Jonathon.

“You can’t just kill something!” exclaimed Hermione, sounding utterly scandalised.

“Your mum don’t let you point the bone anyway,” muttered Bert before she poked her head into the compartment. “Well, looks like they stole the thought box.”

“O’ course they stole the thought box Alberta,” said Ernie. “Ya could see that soon as I opened it.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said absently as she crawled under the bus, her bottom sticking out from under the front wheel arch.

“Thought box?” said George as he poked his head into the compartment where Bert had been moments before. His voice was muffled as he continued. “What’s a thought box?” George emerged from the compartment looking no wiser than he had before he’d taken a look at the magical-mechanical compartment. Harry wondered what Bert was looking for, her lower half twisting as she wriggled about under the bus.

“Helps with driving the bus, bit like Apparating the whole thing,” said Jonathon absently staring at what little could be seen of Bert. “Ernie thinks and the thought box collects his thoughts and the Roobus goes, simple really.”

“Stop staring at ‘er ar-” began Ernie but Jonathon elbowed him in the ribs before he finished. Bert’s voice rose up from under the bus.

“They chewed through the chassis alright, got themselves into the compartment and stole the thought box from underneath,” she called and Ernie growled at her.

“Ya right grumpy out here aren’t you? Stop being such a bloody drongo,” she said exasperatedly as she emerged from under the bus.

“What’re we gunna do about it?” Ernie scratched his head, staring at the compartment where the thought box had obviously been. It seemed everyone else had the same idea as they swivelled as one to look at Jonathon. It was obvious that Jonathon was the one with ideas, that he took the leadership role just as it was clear Bert liked action and Ernie was the thinker in their friendship. He posed the questions, waiting for solutions he knew would come.

“Well, we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere without a thought box,” Jonathon started. “What’s close? Mutijulu township or the resort at Yulara?”

“We haven’t got a permit for Mutijulu and as it’s peak tourist season, Yulara’s full up,” said Bert as she pulled her wand out and advanced on the compartment, still gaping open on the side of the bus.

“Bonza,” said Jonathon dryly. “We’re stranded in winter in the desert and nowhere to stay with a bus full of Poms who aren’t licensed to Apparate!”

“Um, excuse me,” said Hermione hesitantly. “Are we going to be stuck here long?” Jonathon raked his hand through his hair but said nothing while Hermione waited for his response.

“Don’t forget Arkie,” said Bert absently, poking the strands of magic in the exposed compartment with her wand. One of the yellow strands arced and snapped at her hand and she dropped her wand inside, yelping. Jonathon grabbed her hand immediately and swore at the welt growing there.

“You better Apparate to Ernie’s mum and get her to fix you up,” he said decisively as he levitated her wand out of the compartment and handed it back to her. “She’ll have a cocky about won’t she?”

“Yeah she’s got one to send letters to me and Uncle Mick. I’ll go send it to Adelaide for a new thought box,” sighed Ernie. “I’ll get mum to put Arkie up, she won’t mind. And I’ll bring back some food.”

“Good, I don’t fancy huntin’ thanks,” said Jonathon.

“Plenty lizards out here yer great wuss,” mumbled Ernie. Jonathon turned to Hermione.

“Sorry, Hermione,” he said. “It looks like we are stuck here for the night.” He turned to Bert and Ernie. “Ernie, you reckon your mum can send along some swags and that?” Ernie nodded briefly.

“Why can’t we just Apparate to somewhere with beds?” asked George. Harry thought he had an excellent point.

“Even if you were licensed to Apparate here there’s nothing close,” explained Jonathon. “The risk of Splinching or landing even further into the desert just isn’t worth Apparating to a place over three hundred k’s away. Accomplished wizards can do it but I wouldn’t try it.”

“Three hundred k’s? How far is that?” asked Ron, sounding quite irritated.

“Not quite two hundred miles,” said Hermione quietly.

“Gets harder the further you go,” continued Jonathon, “and there’s a lot of places out here to get lost in. I’m not a fan of getting Splinched.” Ron grunted, a scowl on his face.

“Picked up more than one idiot in an emergency who thought he’d save himself a bus trip and wound up with half an arm missing ‘cause he got too disoriented in the sand dunes and forgot his three Ds,” added Bert.

“Without the Roobus working there’s nothing to rescue us if we manage to get in the same predicament,” finished Jonathon. Ron subsided and Harry suspected he had little desire to be Splinched again. Harry had absolutely no desire to be Splinched, nor to risk Splinching Ginny who would have to rely on him to Apparate her. He rather thought that Apparition training had not been high on the Death Eater agenda for learning at Hogwarts last year. Ginny had certainly not indicated that she had the ability to Apparate. She was currently looking at Jonathon as he continued to explain the problems with Apparition.

“The red tape to sort out even emergency unlicensed Apparation would have you detained for more than a week,” he was saying apologetically. Harry rather thought that was excessive but it seemed normal to Jonathon. His mind’s eye pictured an army of rubber stamping Percys unable to deviate long enough to treat any piece of parchment or indeed, any person, as an individual.

“I’m sorry Hermione; I know you wanted to get to Yackandandah and your parents as soon as possible. We should be able to get there tomorrow sometime, as long as the new thought box gets here first thing,” Jonathon was trying to console her but she didn’t look the least bit comforted.

“It doesn’t matter,” mumbled Hermione as she sat heavily on a large rock nearby. Harry thought she suddenly looked rather depressed and he didn’t blame her one bit. Ron sat down beside her and pulled her into a hug. With alarm, Harry realised that she was crying. Ron pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, inspected it for grime and offered it to her. Hermione took one look at it and buried her face in his jumper instead.

“On the bright side you’ll get to see the sun setting at the Rock,” said Jonathon. “Tourists come from all over the world to watch that. It’s not the best of situations but most of the people around here are Muggles, few charms, they won’t know we’re even here.”

“Looks like we’re camping out!” said Bert. She and George seemed pleased and Bill and Ginny seemed unconcerned. Fleur grimaced only a little but Harry scowled and swore, Hermione burst into a fresh wave of tears wailing something that sounded like ‘don’t make me cook fungus’ and Ron let out a long, low moan. Ginny threw questioning looks at the three of them.

“I hate camping,” grumbled Harry as he sat heavily next to Hermione on the rock.

“What is so wrong with camping?” asked Ginny, looking between the three of them, her confusion evident on her face. “You all liked going to the World Cup.”

“We’ve seen the dark side of camping since then, Ginny,” said Ron dramatically, advancing on Ginny and waving his arms through the air as he talked. “Especially the, ‘sorry we don’t have any food’, kind of camping. And let me tell you, stewed mushrooms are a load of dragon dung. And camping in the middle of winter, in the snow, isn’t any picnic either! So forgive me if I appear less than enthused by the prospect of repeating that experience in the middle of bloody nowhere! ”

“I’m guessing you three underplayed your whole camping experience last year then?” said Ginny as she backed slowly away from Ron. “Well, to be fair, it wasn’t quite how I envisioned waking up on my seventeenth birthday either you know but-”

“Oh Merlin Ginny! I forgot tomorrow was your birthday!” wailed Hermione suddenly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Oh this is all my fault!”

She threw herself at Harry, sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder. Harry wrapped his arms tentatively around her, uncertain if it was the right thing to do and patted her slowly on the back. Ron stopped his advance on Ginny and hurried back to Harry and Hermione, kneeling on front of Hermione.

“I’m sorry Hermione,” he said. “I shouldn’t be making such a big deal of it. It’s only one night. I can do it for only one night and, well it doesn’t look like there’s any fungus going to grow around this place anyway. Please, don’t cry, I’m sorry.” Hermione looked up at him and swallowed before nodding.

“Okay,” she said. “I can do this, we can do this.”

She grabbed one of Harry’s hands rather tightly and he tried not to wince as she squeezed harder. Ron was in the same predicament if the grimace on his face was anything to go by, and the two of them looked at each other as she pulled herself together. Suddenly she let go of their hands and Harry began madly rubbing his hand with the other, trying to get back the circulation that had been stolen from him. He soon found his face squashed up against Hermione’s shoulder, his glasses askew on his face and his nose inches from Ron’s as Hermione pulled them both into a hug from which Harry could see no reasonable means of escape. He had no idea what had come over her and could think of nothing that might explain her behaviour. Harry looked to Ron, hoping for an answer but all he got was a shrug that Harry thought might mean Ron didn’t know either. Although Harry wasn’t used to comforting or holding close anyone but Ginny he was fairly sure that the things he might do to Ginny right now did not apply to Hermione. All of a sudden, as he was contemplating his next action Harry was released and Hermione was wiping her eyes with Ron’s handkerchief and proclaiming them the best friends ever and they had better not leave her alone for one minute of this whole camping thing or she was sure she wouldn’t survive.

“That’s a bit dramatic innit?” mumbled Ron. “Surely camping wasn’t that bad. We’re just remembering it that way, or something, yeah?” Harry and Hermione shook their heads slowly.

“It really was that bad, Ron,” said Harry seriously.

“It was worse than that bad,” agreed Hermione. “Promise me we won’t ever have to go camping again?” Harry nodded solemnly. George started chuckling.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” he said. “I mean look, clear skies, a camp fire; we can tell stories or … sing. Be an adventure!” Hermione tilted her head to the side as if considering his words.

“Well, I suppose if we aren’t shut up in a tent, hiding, you know, from the evil forces of the world,” she murmured.

“And there’s no snow here,” added Harry.

“And if there’s food …” continued Ron. The three of them looked at each other and took a deep breath.

“If you three aren’t the biggest bunch of drama queens,” said George, rolling his eyes. Ron crossed his arms and glared at him but neither he nor Harry or Hermione responded to that accusation.

“Come on Alberta,” Ernie said as he prepared to Disapparate. “Let’s get ya hand seen to and bring back the supplies.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Bert and Ernie Disapparated with a loud crack while Jonathon settled down on the red dusty earth to wait for their return. George plopped down beside him.

“Jonathon what’s bone point or whatever Bert said?” he asked with a frown on his face.

“Pointing the bone’s a curse.”

“What sort of a curse?” asked Ginny, quietly.

“Killing one, leaves no trace, never fails,” said Jonathon simply. He looked around, eyes narrowed, when Ginny and Ron went pale and Hermione’s eyes widened in shock. Harry could feel Bill’s eyes on him as his breath hitched in his throat and he suddenly felt unbelieveably cold. “Ernie’s a wizard o’course and he went to the whitefella magic school but he also knows the black magic. One of his old Uncles is a kurditcha man – that’s like a wise man or medicine man some call it, they gotta be wizards though, stands to reason considering what they do. Uncle taught him the magic from before whitefellas were even here. If one of the people broke the law the kurditcha man puts a curse on ‘em. They have this bone, acts like a wand really, that they prepare some special way and they point it at the person and curse them. Lots of people think it kills slowly, reckon people just waste away, but I dunno …”

“Sounds more like Avada Kedavra to me,” muttered George.

“Zactly,” said Jonathon nodding.

“That doesn’t kill you slowly,” said Ron softly. No one was looking at Harry and no one said anthing at all.

“Well,” said Hermione briskly as the silence stretched out, “it sounds like a positively horrible curse anyway.” Harry shoved both his hands in his pockets and stared fixedly at the toe of his worn trainers. Jonathon seemed oblivious to the thickening air that surrounded them, continuing to talk animatedly.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to die slowly,” he said. “Nice and quick, s’long as it didn’t hurt.” No one spoke and Jonathon cleared his throat. “Ernie’s mum’s a Muggle but she believes in pointing the bone and as far as she’s concerned Ernie’s got enough powers to make it happen. She lets him do about any magic but that. It’s serious stuff anyway, He’s not the kurditcha so he shouldn’t be doin’ it in any case but he likes to spook people ...” The silence was still strained and Jonathon gave up trying to fill the void with words and awkwardly fell silent.

“Dying doesn’t hurt,” said Harry softly, staring at something beyond the red horizon. “The Killing Curse hurts but dying doesn’t.” He felt ruthless at that moment and struggled to contain his emotions. It wasn’t Jonathon’s fault, most people spoke rather casually of death. Part of him wanted to just shout and scream, to get his feelings out of his system as quickly as possible. The part of him that could see Ginny held it in check. She was standing perfectly still, her face incredibly pale, freckles standing out sharply and her eyes shut. Her chest was rising and falling shallowly and her hands were clenched into fists although she had obviously tried to hide this by folding her arms and trying to tuck her hands out of sight.

“Harry …” said Ron tentatively and Harry looked up at him, still fighting his internal battle not to fly completely off the handle. Ron didn’t say anything else but somehow Harry felt his own emotions reel themselves back in where he could keep a handle on them and he let out a deep breath.

“The hardest part of dying is leaving behind the people you love,” said Harry. He looked up at the sky, his emotions roiling in his chest, Ron’s presence keeping them from flying out like vicious knives. “But when you’ve got people who love you waiting for you there it’s so easy to just keep going … on.” The others were silent and Harry could sense them watching him as his internal struggle continued. He lowered his eyes and looked to Ginny who had opened her eyes and was looking at him, the expression on her face a mixture of fear and curiosity. He had not spoken so candidly of his experience in the Forest before and he could feel anticipation rolling off of them all.

“Coming back for the people you love is a lot easier than going to die for them,” he said softly into the stillness. He heard Hermione sniff and looked over at her and Ron. Hermione had tears rolling down her cheeks and Ron was biting his lip as if that would prevent the tears from falling from his own glistening eyes. “I expect most people don’t get a choice. But it’s not hard to … stay; it would be so easy to just stay.”

“Did you want to … well,” said Ron, “to … stay, to go … on?” Harry almost felt, rather than heard, everyone suck in a breath and hold it while they waited for him to answer. He lowered his gaze to the ground and traced a pattern in the red dust with the toe of his left trainer.

“I don’t think so,” he said at last, “not really. A part of me perhaps felt it would be okay if I did. It was quiet and peaceful and there’s no hurt or pain there. My parents are there.” He paused aware that Ginny was now crying silent tears but he felt unable to go to her.

“It was peaceful, no pain …” said George slowly and Harry heard the unsaid question. Was Fred feeling that too? Or was Fred in as much pain as he was?

“I spoke to Remus,” said Harry looking up at George and stilling his foot. “I saw him with the Stone. He was sorry he wouldn’t be with Teddy but he wasn’t sad. I didn’t want to leave you all but I wasn’t sad. I think sadness and pain is reserved for the living. I came back to stop the pain. There was already too much pain in this world. Coming back would make it less. I came back for you, for all of you.” Everyone was crying now and Harry felt warm tears slide down his own cheeks as Ginny moved towards him. He enfolded her in his arms, holding her close but he didn’t feel sad. It felt good to talk about it. He looked up at George and saw him smiling through his tears.

“So the git’s got the easy half,” he said, “and I’ve got you lot.” Ron pulled him into a hug.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “always.” Harry looked back down at Ginny and lowered his head to kiss her tears away. Her cheeks tasted salty and her eyelids fluttered shut as she stood in his embrace, her hands on his chest.

“The hardest thing I have ever done is walk away from you,” he whispered. “To listen to your pain was excruciating. It could be the easiest thing in the world to die but if I have a choice I will always, always come back to you.” As Ginny opened her eyes and he looked into them Harry saw that although they were sparkling with tears, the pain on the edges was gone and he leaned down and kissed her softly.

“And I will always be here,” said Ginny softly as he pulled away. She reached up and caressed his cheek and Harry closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. The rest of the world fell away and Ginny was his whole existence. He felt her touch leave breathless trails where she stroked his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair. Her thighs pressed up against his own, he could feel the softness of her stomach against his and he could smell her and hear her as she whispered, “you’ve been through so much.” Harry said nothing but let his hands drift up and down Ginny’s back while she continued to caress his cheek and stroke his neck.

They stood there, Ginny wrapped in Harry’s arms, while they caressed each other, oblivious to the world. Harry revelled in her sweet touch. Her fingertips blazed trails of fire across his skin and his body responded to hers. His eyes were still closed, but somehow Harry knew she was smiling and in response he pulled her closer. He knew it would make his reaction to her touch more obvious to her. He opened his eyes expecting to see her cheeks flushed with the trademark Weasley blush but she seemed unabashed by his physical reaction and smiled up at him. Her eyes were filled with desire and Harry felt irresistibly drawn to her despite the presence of three of her brothers. Harry bent his head to kiss her roughly, giving in to his own desire. It was not a sweet and tender kiss that merely told her how much he cared for her but one that showed her how much he wanted her, for at that moment he wanted her, he desired her and the feeling thrilled and terrified him and when he broke off the kiss he was breathing heavily.

Ginny’s lips were swollen and her cheeks were flushed and Harry felt like he had claimed her lips for his own and marked them. He realised what Arthur had meant when he referred to ‘claiming’ the woman that was his wife. Harry knew he was both impatient and content to wait to claim her body but he knew he had already claimed her mind and soul, and she his. Their bodies were the only part left to claim.

“I love you,” he said roughly, his emotions still raw from talking about dying and from letting his desire reach out and touch her. Ginny looked at him then, letting her own raw passion spill from her gaze, the unspoken things swirling between them as they stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, uninterrupted by the others until the stillness was broken by the crack of Bert and Ernie’s Apparition. The world tumbled back in on them and Harry and Ginny pulled apart with one last lingering caress.

Bert and Ernie were carrying an enormous amount of supplies, Bert sporting a fat white bandage on her hand. A large canvas bag clanked and clanged as it fell from Ernie’s arms when he tried to set down his burdens. He was carrying a large plastic box by the handle in one hand and several small parcels were balanced precariously in the crook of his other arm. Bert was carrying several plastic shopping bags in her good hand and had a smaller canvas bag wedged under her other arm. Jonathon hurried over to relieve Bert of her burdens and Bill and George sprang forward to assist Ernie. Harry was soon immersed in helping set up their camp for the night.

It seemed as though Jonathon, Bert and Ernie had been camping before. They erected two Muggle tents in the shadow of the Roobus in a matter of moments. On inspecting the inside Ron was both amused and disgusted to learn that they were no bigger on the inside than they were on the outside. He repeatedly expressed his outrage that there was no kitchen until Hermione silenced him with a very stern glare that Harry was sure she had learned from Ron’s own mother. Harry asked why the bus didn’t just produce beds like the Knight bus as he had assumed, but apparently the Roobus didn’t have that feature as it wasn’t designed for night time use. Ernie upended one of the bags he’d brought with him and enlarged the contents which turned out to be a number of sleeping bags rolled together with thin foam mattresses. Pacing around for a moment he unrolled one of them and spread it out before summoning a number of rocks and arranging them in a circle about two feet in diameter. He dug a shallow pit in the middle of them before making a similar circle on the other side of the sleeping bag.

“Pass us yer swag, Johno,” he muttered as he levitated more rocks for another circle.

“Don’t call me that,” grumbled Jonathon as he picked up another of the rolled sleeping bags. Harry watched as Ernie and Jonathon unrolled three more of the swags and created more stone circles, placing the swags strategically between two stone circles. Tossing three of the remaining rolls at Bert, Hermione and Ginny he indicated wordlessly that they were to go in the larger of the two tents. The other two he handed to Bill and jerked his head in the direction of the remaining tent.

“Are we sleeping outside?” asked Ron clearly suspicious of these sleeping arrangements. Jonathon nodded shortly as he explained that he was going for wood and Disapparated with a loud crack. Ron glared at Ernie. “Are you mad?”

“What’s the problem?” asked Ernie. He gazed upwards. “’Snot going to rain.”

“But – but it’s … outside! What if we get cold?”

“S’what the fires are fer,” said Ernie shortly shaking his head. “Poms.”

“Just don’t roll in your sleep, you don’t want to end up in a fire,” said Bert as she rustled in one of the plastic shopping bags, eventually pulling out three toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste in an enamel cup, tipping several enamel plates and tin cups onto the dirt in the process.

“How come Bill gets to sleep in a tent?” asked Ron indignantly.

“Mum’s only got two tents.”

“If you’d like to join me and Fleur Ron, I’m sure we could put you up for one night of our honeymoon,” said Bill mischievously. Ron shuddered.

“No thanks,” he said shortly. “And make sure you do a silencing charm.”

“Stop!” cried George plaintively. “Stop these images from assaulting my brain!” Jonathon arrived back then, carrying a massive armful of firewood. He and Ernie distributed it among the small stone circles, setting it to make fires. Hermione emerged from the luggage compartment with her own toiletries and this prompted Harry to go and find his own necessary items. When he’d found all he thought he’d need he saw that Ernie and Bert had transfigured one of the bus chairs into a table to hold the pile of crockery, an enormous frying pan and a large canteen with a tap at the bottom that Harry had seen Ernie pull from the luggage compartment. He and Bill were filling it using the Aguamenti charm. Jonathon was tending several of the fires and they crackled merrily on the desert floor. Suddenly Bert dropped a large pot heavily on her foot and swore softly. She’d forgotten her injured hand and tried to pick it up with both hands. Unfortunately she looked rather comical hopping on one foot with one hand bandaged within an inch of its life by Ernie’s enthusiastic mother.

“Are you okay? Is your foot alright?” asked Jonathon, frantically rushing to her aid and reaching out to steady her. He grabbed Bert’s injured hand and she yelped. Jonathon looked chagrined. “Is your hand alright?” Bert nodded, grimacing wryly at her bandage encased hand.

“I think Ernie’s mum went a bit overboard with the bandages though,” she said. “It’s a pity you don’t know any healing spells.”

“It’s a pity I’m not of age today then,” muttered Ginny poking at one of the fires moodily with a stick. Harry looked at her curiously and then saw Bill was looking at Ginny with raised eyebrows. Harry was beginning to think that there were a few things he needed to find out about Ginny. Things he had not noticed or she had not revealed and he had a sinking suspicion they were all related to the previous year at Hogwarts. His thoughts were interrupted by Hermione who seemed to be quite agitated by Bert’s injury. She was talking to Ron while he explored the supplies Bert and Ernie had brought back with them. She sounded quite distressed.

“I didn’t bring any dittany,” Hermione was fretting. “I knew I’d forget something.” Ron stopped rifling through the food bags (and being slapped on the hand by Fleur) and turned to her. Reaching out to Hermione and putting his hand on her arm Ron spoke to her softly.

“It’s okay, Hermione,” he said. “Relax. You don’t have to remember everything.”

“Well, who’s going to then? I mean it’s such a simple thing, to be prepared for every emergency,” rattled Hermione urgently. “I’m always prepared for things like this. I don’t know why I forgot. I’ve let my guard down and now we’re all going to suffer!” Harry looked at her alarmed. She seemed capable of going on about her perceived shortcomings for hours. Ron pulled her into his arms, and unless Harry was mistaken he was crooning to her. With a few well chosen words Ron had calmed Hermione down, reassured her that she didn’t have to remember everything and managed to make her smile. Harry wondered if Ron was Hermione’s best source of comfort as Ginny was his. He knew he’d never been able to calm Hermione like that. Ron made it look so easy. Harry began to question his ability to calm Ginny if she got up a head of steam. If she was upset, would it be him she turned to and would he be able to calm and soothe her? Harry smiled as he watched Ron tease Hermione by telling her that she had better let her guard down sometimes or they’d not have very much fun. Hermione blushed at his suggestive tone and busied herself at the Transfigured table, straightening a pile of dishes that did not need straightening.

At sunset Jonathon persuaded Ernie that they could stop making camp and watch the Rock, so together they brought some of the chairs out of the bus and sat down to gaze at the giant monolith as the sun sank below the horizon. He found the changing colours and the shades caused by the shadows to be one of the most beautiful and mesmerising things that he had seen in a long time and as he watched the sun go down he listened to Ginny exclaim over the way the desert lit up like it was on fire. It probably looked a little absurd, sitting in a roomy recliner, next to an electric blue bus, in the middle of the desert, Ginny squashed beside him while he absently stroked her hair. It was an odd situation to be sure, but Harry didn’t feel out of place. Perhaps it was having Ginny by his side but he felt somehow as if he was exactly where he was meant to be.

When the sun had gone down and before the light vanished entirely Ernie and Jonathon began to fix something to eat. Harry felt rather useless as he stood watching proceedings but Bert, Ernie and Jonathon seemed to move like a well oiled machine. Ernie’s mum proved to be Molly’s kindred spirit and had packed them enough food to last a week. There were vegetables, eggs, dried fruit, a loaf of bread, sugar and flour. As Bert opened the plastic box that Ernie had been carrying Jonathon prepared the frying pan, perching it on some of the hot coals that had begun to form in the largest of the fires. Her injured hand failing her, Bert dropped a wrapped block of butter on the ground and a cloud of the red dust rose up and settled like a thin film inside the box.

“Don’ wreck the esky,” groused Ernie as he used his wand to remove the dirt. Harry peered inside as he and Ginny went to help Bert and discovered it contained several ice packs, a block of cheese, several cartons of milk and various packages of meat.

“A bit of dirt won’t wreck it, you old woman,” grumbled Bert. Jonathon sighed loudly.

“Don’t start,” he warned. “I knew there was a reason I stopped camping with you two.”

“And I thought it were ‘coz you couldn’t stan’ bein’ near Bert of a night withou’ throwin’ ‘er ta the groun’ and-” mumbled Ernie before Jonathon elbowed him sharply in the side and handed him the flour and a carton of milk.

“Make the damper or go catch a lizard, just shut ya mouth before I shut it for you,” hissed Jonathon. “And find ya manners and good humour while ya at it.” Ernie shoved the milk and flour at Bert and stalked off into the darkening scrub, his choice clear. Bert just scowled after him muttering that being the girl didn’t mean she had to cook. Harry stifled a laugh at the look of solidarity Hermione threw her.

“I’ll make the damper then,” said Jonathon exasperatedly and stalked off to the table with the milk and flour. He didn’t hear Bert, watching his retreating backside, say what a pity it was that he’d stopped camping with them as she would have enjoyed being thrown to the ground. George leapt towards Ginny, covering her ears with his hands.

“Not in front of the child!” he said dramatically as Ginny fought him off.

“So help me George,” she cried as she twisted out of his grasp finally. “Tomorrow morning you’d better watch your back!”

“Be afraid, little brother, be very afraid!” laughed Bill and Ginny stalked off and stomped into the girls’ tent letting the flap swing shut after her.

Ernie returned a short time later, carrying two lizards. Harry watched, fascinated and repulsed as Ernie prepared them and propped them over the fire to cook. Jonathon had combined the milk and flour to make a lump of dough that he buried in the coals to cook and Bert expertly sliced some potatoes and onions setting the enormous frying pan over the fire to cook lamb chops and the vegetables. Fleur was looking distastefully at the entire production but George had been extremely enthusiastic about the process and proved an able assistant. He and Jonathon laughed and joked as they worked together and Ron smiled as they chased Bert around the campsite with their hands covered in dough. George seemed so carefree and Harry wondered if he was really doing okay or if it was all an act because the kind of hurt George had ran deep. Maybe it was a good start.

The stars had come out by the time the food was cooked and they ate by the light of the stars and several glowing campfires. The lump of dough that Jonathon had buried in the coals to cook had proved to be a kind of bread called damper and when she’d stopped complaining about perceived women’s work Bert had taught Ginny how to make damper to which they added dried fruit. The food was plain, but cooked and eaten outdoors it tasted like a delicacy. When they had finished and they lay sprawled, sated in their chairs Hermione and Bill lazily cleaned the pans and dishes with Scourgify and levitated them back to lie in a haphazard pile on the small table. The fires died down to burning embers that gave off a comforting heat and the darkness settled over the outback like an inky blanket. Harry and Ginny sat cuddled together in the recliner they had occupied earlier, their feet entwined on the raised footrest.

With lazy contentment, under the cover of darkness, Harry traced his fingers up and down her body, heedless of where they travelled and he explored her stomach, chuckling softly as she squirmed when he dragged his fingertips lightly across its surface. He caressed the round softness of her bottom and the curve of her hips, feeling slightly envious of the denim that was closer to her skin than he was. Ginny shivered as he drew a line down her backbone and he leaned down to press a sweet kiss to her neck. The passion that had filled him earlier did not return in the same way but he could feel it simmering underneath the barrier he had erected to keep it in check. It was what drove him to explore her body but now was not the time to let it go. Even if they had not been in the open and surrounded by eight other people it was too soon. Only when he could control it could he let it rule. And so Harry kissed her softly, caressing her tongue and lips with his own while his hands traced repeating patterns on the small patches of skin he could find under her jumper.

“I can’t see any stars I recognise,” said Ron suddenly into the stillness. George laughed.

“Did you even pass your Astronomy OWL?” he chuckled.

“Yes, I did thank you very much, unlike you Mr Three OWLS,” retorted Ron.

“Hey, I earned those three OWLS fair and square,” commented George conversationally.

“Oh, really?” said Hermione drily from her seat beside Ron.

“Yep,” said George, “Fred got the Potions and Transfiguration OWLS and I got the Charms and Herbology OWLS. We both managed a Defence Against the Dark Arts one each. Didn’t need us both to get them all did we?”

“Really,” said Hermione exasperatedly, “That’s a bit short sighted of you both isn’t it? I mean what about now that -” She broke off and Harry was certain she was horrified at her own train of thought and that she had voiced it.

“You worry too much Hermione,” said George lightly. “Ron’s got his Potions and Transfiguration OWLS. Besides Fred and I taught each other anyway we just didn’t have time for the actual study involved, much more important things to do.”

“Yes, like creating mayhem and mischief wherever you went,” piped up Bill.

“True,” agreed George. The group fell silent then and Harry looked up at the stars as Ginny danced her fingers over his chest and across his stomach. He closed his eyes and let his other senses pick up the other sensations; the scent of her, her hip pressed against his, her hair as it brushed against his arm and tickled his chin.

“Hey I found Vega!” said Ron suddenly. “But it’s in the wrong spot. Where is north …” Harry could hear Ron twisting in his seat and imagined his perplexed expression as he searched the night sky.

“Can you see Alpha Centauri?” asked Jonathon. Ron made an exasperated noise and Jonathon chuckled. Using his lit wand tip he pointed out Arcturus low on the Western Horizon he guided them to Antares overhead but Ron was unconvinced.

“Well where’s Scorpius then?” he snorted. “How can you lot see anything down here?” Jonathon laughed. Conjuring a telescope he showed Ron where Scorpius was.

“But it’s upside down!” said Ron incredulously. “And where did the Pleiades go? It’s winter isn’t it?”

“They’re visible at this time of night in summer, along with Orion and Gemini,” said Bert. Ron grunted. Obviously Ron did not like his world being turned on its axis like this as he grumbled that he couldn’t even figure out which way anything was supposed to be. Jonathon showed him how to find south using the Southern Cross constellation and began pointing out other stars and constellations.

“But it’s all upside down,” said Ron again, rather petulantly after he finally saw the Teapot that Jonathon was pointing out in the Sagittarius constellation.

“Well you are Down Under, mate,” said Bert.

“Not upside down if you know the right stories,” said Ernie, “stupid to use Northern constellations down here, all upside down.”

“Where’s Sirius?” asked Harry suddenly. He had been trying to locate the brightest star in the sky while Ron created a fuss about things, but he had been unable to find it. Jonathon swung his wand to point low on the horizon towards the south east.

“Sirius should come up about two or three tomorrow morning,” he said and Ernie laughed. Jonathon shifted slightly in the darkness. “Orion and his dog will be upside down of course which would make Sirius harder for you lot to find.”

“So you’re saying if we looked for Orion’s head we’d have to travel up, not down, to find the rest of the constellation?” clarified Ginny. “That would make Sirius on the other side and the dog constellation upside down?”

“Sirius, the upside down dead dog!” chortled Ernie. He didn’t notice how quiet the rest of the camp fell at his words but Harry did. He knew that Ginny was holding her breath and he could practically feel Hermione and Ron’s eyes on him. In the shadows he saw Bill turn towards him and George sit up abruptly in his chair. They were all waiting for his reaction which bubbled up inside him like the bubbles in a can of soft drink and burst out, shattering the stillness as Harry laughed. Ginny stiffed and then laughed when his shoulders shook with laughter and he leaned his head on her shoulder as he succumbed to the hilarity that welled up inside him. He could hear Ron and George join his laughter and faintly he heard Hermione weakly protest before she joined in as well.

“I didn’t think Ern was that funny,” said Bert eventually after they had calmed down a little, hiccupping only occasionally. Harry only shook his head as more silent laughter bubbled up. He knew, somehow that Sirius, and probably Remus and his father, would appreciate the joke and the irony of the situation and all he could do was laugh. Bert went on. “You should tell ‘em the real stories Ern.”

“The stars are the ancestors,” began Ernie as they fell silent listening to the storytelling rhythm of Ernie’s voice. “Different mobs have different dreaming ‘bout the stars but mostly they is ancestors gone on before, after the creation of the land. Them stars you call Pleiades is seven women, jus’ like in your stories. They are running from their pursuer. Is different for other mobs though, resting place of the dead for some.”

“Why is there more than one story?” asked Hermione and Harry pondered the same question as Ernie replied.

“More than one mob,” he said. “Most all the stars is ancestors though. It’s connected to the land and different people got different land so the stories aren’t gunna be the same, aye? Some are lost too. When the whitefellas moved the people away from their lands and families, they took the little kids away, y’know, they destroyed their kinships and their connections to the land. The dreaming was lost.” Ernie was solemn as he spoke about the loss of his peoples’ cultures and Harry, knowing what it was like to be taken from your family and raised in a place where you did not belong, losing your family and your heritage in the process, felt a connection to them.

“Well what about Scorpius then?” asked Ron. “If it’s upside down is it still a scorpion?”

“No,” said Jonathon, “It’s a crocodile. The crocodile’s head is where the scorpion’s tail is.”

“And see here, in the Milky Way,” and Bert pointed out a void with her wand, “that’s an emu there, in the shadows.”

“Orion’s an emu too, in some mobs,” interjected Ernie. “There’s warriors and hunters and eagles up there. Southern Cross got lots of different dreaming.” It was getting late and the fires were dying down. The absence of natural light made the stars easier to see and they stayed awake watching the stars, pointing out the constellations and telling stories until one by one they drifted off to bed.

Ginny fell asleep on Harry’s shoulder shortly before midnight and he carried her into her tent, laying her carefully on one of the swags. He removed her shoes and tucked her into the sleeping bag before smoothing the hair off her face and pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. He came out of the tent to find Ernie tucked up in one of the swags laid out between the fires and Bill and Fleur already gone into their tent. Ron and Hermione was still sitting, side by side, talking earnestly in quiet whispers and Jonathon and Bert were so tied up with each other that Harry was entirely unsure where one finished and the other began. He sat down next to George in the chair vacated by Ernie. George was leaning back and looking up into the sky.

“Do you think they’re up there, with the stars?” asked George quietly. Harry knew he meant those who had died, gone before.

“Maybe,” said Harry, tilting his head back to look at the stars. “They’re somewhere they can see us. Mum and dad are proud of me, so’re Sirius and Remus. If they couldn’t see me, how could they be proud?”

“But how do you know that, Harry?”

“When I used the Stone, the Resurrection Stone, I saw them along with Remus,” said Harry, looking up into the vast sky. “No one else could have seen them though …. Sirius said … he said they were a part of me.” Harry looked at George who was staring at the glowing embers of the fire in front of him. Hermione had gone and Ron had burrowed into one of the swags and was starting to snore gently. Bert and Jonathon stood near the girls’ tent sharing a last lingering kiss.

“If they’re a part of you,” said George slowly as he turned to look at Harry, “then they never really left.” Harry nodded.

“I don’t think they ever truly leave us, y’know?” he said softly. “They live on because we loved them and they loved us. All we have to do is remember them. Maybe they are up in the stars, but they’re right here, too.” And Harry placed his hand over his own heart. George stared at Harry’s hand for a moment before he looked back up into the night.

“I miss Fred, so much,” he said. “I feel torn in two. It doesn’t seem fair that he’s with me, but I can’t feel him.”

“All you have to do is remember,” said Harry. “He’s always with you, just let yourself feel.”

“I don’t want to feel,” George whispered. “Feelings hurt … too much.”

“I know,” said Harry simply.

“D’you really think he’s not sad?” asked George then. “You know, up there, in heaven or wherever.” Harry nodded. He smiled a little wryly.

“I’ve met far too many dead people,” he grimaced at his bluntness but George chuckled softly. “Only the ghosts are sad. If someone’s a ghost it’s like … like they aren’t finished. They’re scared or worried, got something left to do. But people who’ve gone … on … they have all been smiling. They’re happy. Fred’s not a ghost. He’d not have left us alone if he was.”

“He’d have been water bombing us with Peeves,” added George. Harry couldn’t help it, he laughed and George joined in. After a moment George sobered. “If he’s not a ghost, he’s happy?” Harry saw a lone tear escape George’s eye and roll down his cheek.

“Probably,” he whispered. “There’s peace there, I’m sure of it. I think the tears, the sadness, are reserved for here. There’s no tears in heaven.” George’s face was wet now as the tears rolled silently down his cheeks.

“I couldn’t bear it if he was sad too. This just hurts so much,” said George as he wrapped his arms around his knees and laid his head on them. His tears dripped slowly down his face and onto his knees, soaking his jeans and Harry, unable to stop himself, moved closer to George and wrapped an arm around him, holding George as he cried, silent tears sliding down his own nose. George quietened but made no move to leave Harry’s embrace.

“It’s okay to feel, George,” whispered Harry roughly, his own throat scratchy and raw. “Let yourself feel him, he’s always with you.”

“Oh Merlin, this just hurts,” said George brokenly and a loud sob broke the stillness as it tore from his throat. Harry saw Ron sit up abruptly.

“Fred is right here,” said Harry softly, reaching out to touch George’s chest on the place over his heart. “Those we love never really leave us, let yourself feel.” Harry felt his heart breaking as George closed his eyes, pain etched on his features, perhaps battling internally. Eventually George pulled away, eyes shimmering with tears, half a smile on his face.

“Living hurts,” he said simply. “How are you still sane after … everything? I sometimes think I’m going to go mental from this pain.” Harry stared off into the distance.

“Sometimes I think I nearly did,” he admitted.

“What stopped you?”

“Ginny,” Harry said softly, stirring up the coals on the fire in front of them. Ron had not moved, he sat motionless watching them. “I don’t know how to explain it. She … keeps me here. All of you … the love … but Ginny’s different.” George wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand.

“You’re in love with her,” he said. He wasn’t mocking and he wasn’t accusing, rather he sounded awed.

“Yeah, I am,” breathed Harry. “My life is completely tied up in hers, I can’t help it. I don’t know how I could even begin to live without her now. There are people missing from my life, but with her … I feel it less.” Harry didn’t know if he was making sense to George. Trying to express how Ginny made him feel didn’t seem possible. It was like being alive and numb to pain all at the same time.

“They are still with me, those I’ve lost,” he continued. “They’re part of me. Sirius, Remus, my mum and dad they left their mark on me. They’ve protected me from Dementors, all my life. Remus taught me how to do a Patronus and they fuelled it. It’s a stag, like my dad, y’know? But Ginny … I reckon she fuels it now. All of them, they are all here.” Placing a hand over his heart, he could feel it beating. George stared at Harry’s hand for a moment.

“You just have to let the love get bigger than the pain,” Harry said simply.

“Thanks, Harry,” George said, he paused and looked at Harry with a sly grin on his face. “D’you reckon it’s finding a bird that helps?”

“Ginny’s not a bird,” muttered Harry. “I wouldn’t let her or Hermione hear you say that.” George laughed softly.

“No, I don’t reckon I will,” he acquiesced. “Seriously though, d’you think girls, well that one special girl, can do it? Fix the pain? Block it out, take over. You know, if you love her enough?” Harry considered that for a moment, tilting his head to one side as he stared into the darkness.

“You find the right girl and kissing her is better than Firewhiskey,” he said eventually.

“Blimey Harry, when did you get so wise?” Harry shrugged and they both looked up into the night sky. It was well after midnight now and Harry could see Rigel on the North East horizon. Sirius would be visible soon and he felt an overwhelming urge to see the star. After several long minutes he and George said goodnight and quietly made their way to the two remaining swags and lay down. Harry caught Ron’s eye and Ron nodded at him before burrowing himself back into his own swag. As the Dog Star came up over the horizon, Harry could hear George’s even breathing and before gently sliding off to sleep under the southern sky, Harry made a wish on the star that George’s troubles would melt away so that he would be able to feel without the pain.