Chapter Six: Chances Are

“Damn it!  THIS ISN’T FAIR!”  Harry bellowed to no one as he punched the air in frustration.  He couldn’t believe he had lived to see the other side of the war only to be faced with an ultimatum from Ginny.  She had no idea what he wanted to do — she didn’t understand all the reasons for his decision to go back.  Foremost, he wanted to save Fred.  Fred was Ginny and Ron’s brother — his brother.  The Weasleys were his family, for Merlin’s sake.  He couldn’t bear seeing them torn apart.  He’d helped finance the joke shop — Fred needed to be there to continue the dream with George.

And Teddy Lupin?  She had no idea what it was like to grow up without parents — to never know a mother’s touch.  Ginny didn’t realize how often Lily haunted his dreams or how longing for James permeated his soul.  She had both of her parents with her almost every day.  She would never live or be locked in a cupboard, left alone to starve in the dark.  Teddy deserved a chance with his parents.  Harry wanted to give him that.

And the last thing Ginny would never comprehend?  That shocking, implausible revelation: the moment when Harry realized Snape had truly loved his mother.  The instant he knew Snape’s duality was purely a pretense to insure his safety.  She would never know the empty feeling of watching him be slaughtered and slip away — taking with him a lifetime of unanswered questions.

No, Ginny didn’t understand going back may be his only chance for closure — his one chance to move on — to be able to make sense out of the madness of the past seventeen years.  He wanted to devote himself to her with his whole soul, not the battered remnant he carried with him.  Harry wanted to heal.  He wanted happiness.  He wanted to move forward with a conscience free from regret.

Why couldn’t she understand that?  And how, how could she ever possibly believe he would allow her to come with him?

Just as Harry wouldn’t put her in harm’s way during the hunt for the Horcruxes, he wasn’t going to allow her to venture back into time with him.  The battle at Hogwarts was fraught with danger.  He wanted her nestled in the Room of Requirement where he knew she would safely make it through the war, not negotiating the grounds with him dodging stray curses.  If keeping her safe and alive meant sacrificing their relationship, his decision was already made.  She would not be going with him.  No one would be going.  This was his task — he was going alone.

Harry stood beside the tomb and considered what he wanted to accomplish before he returned to McGonagall’s office.  The first item would be the easiest.  He steeled himself for what he was about to do — he was sure Dumbledore would understand.  When he finished the task he would return the Elder Wand to Dumbledore forever.  He mumbled an incantation splitting the monument in the same spot he so carefully repaired after the battle.  Gingerly, he took the wand back from its lifeless owner.  Harry resealed the tomb and tucked the wand into his robes for safekeeping.  He would need it later.  He turned back to the school to commence the second item: find Kingsley Shacklebolt.

As Harry trudged back across the lawn his thoughts returned to Ginny.  When they fell asleep on the common room couch he felt as if the whole world had melted away, leaving only Ginny and him there to float in a warm, dreamy sea.  The smell of her had tortured him — the nearness of her perfect body wrapped around his was a feeling he wanted to explore.  The wisps of her hair had tickled his nose while he slept — the whole experience left him overwhelmed with the intensity of his feelings for her.

Lost in reverie, Harry stopped and turned to look at the spot where he professed his love…he couldn’t believe he had buggered things so badly in such a short period of time.  McGonagall asked him to volunteer and he had simply reacted — with no thought of Ginny’s response.  When he did consider her feelings, he immediately started to build his argument of justification rather than hold fast to his previous promise.

Harry knew he had a lot to learn about love — and girls, for that matter.  He was oblivious about being in a committed relationship — he had absolutely no role models upon which to base his behavior.  Sure, summering and holidays with the Weasleys had shown him how families could really be, but no one had ever taken him aside and taught him how to be a solicitous boyfriend.  The book Ron had given him for his seventeenth birthday, Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, was hardly a resource for successfully communicating with women.

Ginny had every right to be angry with him…he understood that now.  He made a commitment to her.  If he’d made a similar promise to Ron (hypothetically speaking, of course) he would never turn right around and break it.  But what Ginny didn’t understand was why he didn’t have a second thought about his decision: because he loved her.  His love for her was so powerful he ached with it.  Watching her tears over Fred, along with the rest of the Weasley family’s grief, had simply caused him to respond without fear of consequences.  He would give his life for the Weasleys if it meant giving them back their son.  And truly, he believed in Professor McGonagall when she insisted her plan was safe.  He didn’t feel he was taking unnecessary risks — he simply thought he was making things right — the way they should be.

When all this was over Harry would make things right with Ginny.  He would make her understand how much he loved and needed her.  He would prove he could keep his promises, in fact he intended to make her the ultimate promise.  His need to be with her terrified him — he wanted more than just that peaceful, innocent slumber…  He was willing to jeopardize their relationship so he could move on with his life — with Ginny — with no more tangled, hideous dreams.  Ginny deserved that.  She deserved to love someone who was whole…not the broken wreck he’d been since the battle in the Department of Mysteries.

“Shit!” Harry muttered to himself.  He didn’t intend to analyze his relationship with Ginny all the way up the lawn.  He needed to focus on what he was about to do for McGonagall — he couldn’t afford to be distracted by what-ifs.  “Blimey, Potter,” he censured himself verbally.  He proceeded up the steps into the Entrance Hall, wary of whom he would find there.  He glanced around surreptitiously for Ginny and didn’t find her; he breathed a sigh of relief and made his way into the Great Hall to find the Minister for Magic.  Fortunately, the Minister was quite discernable and Harry was able to locate him rather quickly.

“Harry!” Kingsley Shacklebolt smiled as he placed a warm palm on Harry’s shoulder.  “It’s a real shame Dumbledore wasn’t here to see the show…he would have been so proud of you.”

“Er, thanks, Minister…” Harry choked, overwhelmed by the mention of his mentor.

“No you don’t, Harry,” Kingsley admonished.  “I will always be Kingsley to you.  Always.  No matter what nonsense goes on at the Ministry my door is always open.  In fact, when you’re ready to discuss it I’ve a position for you in our Auror Department.  We’re building from the ground up with fresh blood.  I want the best.  I want you in on the development of our new department as soon as you’re able.”

Astounded by Shacklebolt’s offer, Harry gulped.  “Um, Kingsley, I never even finished my seventh year…I haven’t even taken the N.E.W.T.s,” he said in a daze.  “I’m not even eighteen.”

“Those things don’t matter to me,” Kingsley said kindly.  “You’ve proved yourself worthy for this position many times.  No other man has stood in front of V-Voldemort and triumphed as many times as you have.  That experience is worth lifetimes of schooling.”

Coughing, Harry silently accepted the Minister’s praise.  A blush rose in his cheeks — he couldn’t believe he was standing in front of the Minister for Magic blushing like a ruddy schoolboy.  The thought made his cheeks even redder.

Kingsley laughed.  “Harry, I think you’re going to have to improve accepting credit where it’s due,” he said as he clapped Harry on the back.  “The entire wizarding world is going to want a piece of you over the next few months…you’ll handle the attention much better if you allow yourself some of the glory.”

Harry’s eyes darkened.  “I’m sorry, Kingsley,” he disagreed.  “There is no glory here.  This is nothing but pain and tragedy,” Harry said, gesturing around him at the grieving families.  “I can’t feel good about defeating Voldemort knowing the debt others paid to help me along the way,” he said diverting his eyes and shuffling his feet.

“Ah, Harry,” Kingsley said gently.  “Your heart is gold.  The responsibility for this destruction lies squarely on the shoulders of Voldemort.  No witch or wizard can possibly believe you’ve had a part in any of this catastrophe.  You’re a hero.  You’ll do well to remember that.”

“I’m sorry, Kingsley.  I don’t feel like a hero.  I don’t want to be a hero.  I just want to get on with things.  Which, by the way, do you know where the Dursleys are?”

“The Dursleys?” The Minister asked incredulously.  “After everything that hateful family has said and done to you you’re concerned about the Dursleys?”

“Well, yeah,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders.  “I mean, they did have to leave their house and everything.  I was just curious if they’ve been taken home yet.”

“I really don’t know, Harry,” Kingsley admitted, shaking his head in wonderment at the teenager in front of him.  “They’ve been the least of my concerns over the past day or so.  However, I will find out for you.”

“Thank you, Minister,” Harry offered.

“Harry, I told you, I will never be Minister to you.  Now go on before someone else catches you.  We’ll discuss these matters another day.”  Kingsley dismissed Harry with a wave and wove his way back through a throng of ministry officials who were waiting patiently for him to finish his conversation with Harry.  Harry turned to leave as he noticed the Minister shake the hand of a very dignified-looking wizard in bright, green robes who was gesturing loudly and pointing at him excitedly.

Harry sighed.  He needed some time to collect his thoughts before he rejoined McGonagall in her office to accept the Time-turner.  He decided on a kip in the Room of Requirement; he was sure he wouldn’t be found or interrupted there.  Noticing Ron making a bee-line down the stairs toward him, Harry ducked behind a large group of Ministry officials, slipping down the corridor to the kitchens where he could use secret passageways back to the seventh floor.

* * *

“Ron!” Ginny yelled after her brother.  As she’d swung around the pillar of the fourth-floor stairwell she’d seen Ron jump up to go after Harry.  “Ron, tell him to wait for me!”

Sprinting down the stairs, Ginny slid into her brother with a thud.  “Ron, where is he?  Didn’t you find him?”

“Blimey, Ginny!” Ron exclaimed.  “D’you have to run into me like that?”

“Harry, Ron — where is he?”

Ron looked bewildered.  I just saw him come out of the Great Hall.  I know he saw me…I was going down to tell him Hermione needed to see him,” Ron said, scratching his head and looking confused.  “Then he just disappeared.  I wonder why?”

Ginny grabbed her brother by the arm.  “The map, Ron, where’s the Marauder’s Map?  Didn’t the three of you have it?” Ginny trilled.

“Bloody hell, Ginny,” Ron griped at his stricken sister.  “What’s got your knickers in a knot?”

“I’m counting to three, Ronald, and then I am slamming you with the nastiest bogies you’ve ever seen!” Ginny hissed.  “The bloody map — where is it?”

“All right, all right,” Ron said holding his hands up in resignation.  “I think Hermione has it in her handbag.”

“Hermione?” Ginny squeaked.  “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said as she took off for the fourth floor, scaling the stairs two at a time.  Cursing her dreadful luck, Ginny prayed as she ran that Hermione would still be in the same spot in the library.  Dashing down the hall, she slid into the library yelling loudly for Hermione.

“Oh good!” Hermione gushed.  “You’ve come back to help!”

“N-No…” Ginny panted.  “I n-need the m-map, Hermione.  I need the Marauder’s Map!”

“Why?”

“We’ve got to find Harry, fast!  I know he’s in the castle.  He’s got to be on the Map!”

“Well, okay,” Hermione acquiesced looking confused.  “I’ll just go get my bag.”  Hermione scurried away and returned moments later with a small, beaded handbag.

“Hermione, is that the same bag you carried to Bill and Fleur’s wedding?” Ginny asked quizzically.

“Oh yes,” Hermione blushed.  “I magically enlarged the inside so all our belongings and supplies would fit for the trip — the small size made it quite easy to carry and conceal.”

“Hermione,” Ginny said amazed and wide-eyed, “you really are the cleverest witch of our age.  I would never have thought of that.”

“It was nothing,” Hermione grinned.  Her arm was swishing around in the bag and she didn’t seem to be having much luck pinpointing the map.  “Hold on, Ginny.  Things seem to have gotten a little disorganized over the past few days.”  She stuck her head into the bag, leaving Ginny gaping in stunned silence, looked around a moment and then pulled her head back out and dug around with her right arm again, coming up with the map.  “Here we are,” she apologized with a shrug of her shoulders.  “Like I said…things were just a bit out-of-place.”  She flattened the map on the table where she and Ginny sat earlier and touched the map with her wand, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

Both Ginny and Hermione immediately started to look for Harry’s dot.  After several frantic minutes of scanning the map, Ginny sputtered “I don’t see him, Hermione!”

“Well he’s got to be here somewhere.  He didn’t leave the grounds,” Hermione stressed patiently as she looked at her friend, finally noticing Ginny’s apparent dismay.  “What’s going on, Ginny?  Why are you in such a rush to find Harry?”

“Keep looking, Hermione!” Ginny pressed and turned back to the map as she talked.  “He can’t go to McGonagall’s office before I talk to him!  I was angry!  I was so very, very angry!  I overheard you lot discussing McGonagall’s plan in the classroom.  When you and Ron started snogging in the classroom I followed Harry out to Dumbledore’s tomb…I hexed him!”

“Oh no!” Hermione gaped with wide eyes, covering her mouth to smother a giggle.  “Was it bad?”

“It was bad, Hermione!  Really bad!  I set the canaries on him before I did the bogies,” Ginny admitted.

“I knew I shouldn’t have taught you that spell,” Hermione snorted.

“Hermione, that’s not all!” Ginny wailed.  “Before I did all that I disarmed him!”

“You took his wand?” Hermione breathed.

“I took his bloody wand, Hermione!” Ginny cried.  “I just wanted to scare the sodding git into some sense…I was so angry.  I threw the Expelliarmus at him…he didn’t even know it was coming!”

“Oh my!” Hermione exclaimed.  “You know what this means…oh my!  You know what this means, don’t you?”

“Why in the bloody hell do you think I’m in such a rush?” Ginny snapped.  “He’s not on this map — he’s not anywhere.”

“I know exactly where he is…come on!” Hermione said as she grabbed Ginny and took off in a dead run for the seventh floor.

“Where are we going?” Ginny huffed as they ran up the stairs.

“The Room of Requirement — it’s unplottable!  If he’s there he won’t show up on the map! It’s the only place he can be!”

“Hermione, you’re brilliant!” Ginny squealed as she jogged.  “Remind me when this is over to kiss you or something.”

The two friends rounded the stairwell of the seventh floor and skidded to a halt beside the blank wall.  Feverishly, Ginny started to walk back and forth in front of the wall asking questions.  “I need the room where Harry is.”  Nothing happened.  “Bloody hell, Hermione!  How are we supposed to get in?”

“Let’s think about this a moment,” Hermione pondered.  “If he went into the room alone, he needed to think.  You said you fought, right?”  Ginny nodded.  “Anything else?”

Ginny gulped.  She didn’t want to tell Hermione everything about her tirade on the lawn.  “I told him if he didn’t take me with him we were over.”

“You didn’t!” Hermione choked.

“I did, Hermione,” Ginny said sounding panicked.  “I have to get into that room!”

“Let me try, Ginny,” Hermione soothed.  “We’ll fix this, all right?” she reassured as Ginny nodded.  Hermione thought for a moment and walked back and forth in front of the wall with no success.  She tried again and again for several minutes when finally a door started to appear.

“What did you ask?” Ginny breathed, speechless.

“I asked it for the room where Harry was hiding from you,” she grinned.  “Now get in there and talk to him.  I’ll wait here for you.”

Ginny nodded her thanks, took a deep breath, opened the door and walked into an exact replica of the Gryffindor common room.  Harry was sitting legs askew in their favorite squashy armchair with an empty bottle of Butterbeer dangling from his hand, completely absorbed by the crackling fire.

“Harry…” said as she walked up beside him, placing her small hand on his shoulder.  “Harry we have to talk.”

“So talk,” he grumbled as he continued to look into the fire.

“I’m sorry Harry.  I shouldn’t have given you an ultimatum.  I was angry,” Ginny said softly as she knelt in front of him nestling between his legs and laying her head on his stomach.  “I really didn’t mean it.”

Harry grunted noncommittally.

“Harry, you have to talk to me.” Ginny urged, pulling up so she could look at his face.  “I was angry and I had every right to be.  You promised me something and then you turned around and ignored everything you said.  You didn’t think.” Ginny said softly, running her hand down the side of his face.  At her touch his eyes glassed over — she could tell he was fighting tears.  “I love you, Harry.  I’m not going anywhere.  I can’t lose Fred and you in the same week.  I couldn’t handle it.”

Harry’s resolve melted as one tear spilled over onto each cheek.  “I don’t deserve you,” he croaked.

“Yes, you do,” Ginny soothed.  “You deserve wonderful things.  We’re going to do wonderful things together, love,” she smiled warmly as she ruffled her hand through his soft, messy hair.  Harry’s eyes locked on hers.  The intensity of his gaze was sending a spark through parts of her body she wasn’t aware existed.

“Wonderful things, eh?” Harry said as he rose up and nuzzled her ear.  Her strawberry scent and the warmth of her body huddled between his legs was blasting blood to the lower half of his body.  He was finding it extremely hard to concentrate.  He lifted her into his lap so that she straddled him with a leg on each side, cupping her perfect bum in his hands.  When he situated her exactly how he wanted her, he reached out and pulled her shoulders to him and began nibbling on her neck, where he planted small kisses along her jaw line and groaned into her skin as he felt her squirm, causing a heavenly friction in his lap.  He moved to her lips and kissed her softly, nipping at her bottom lip, teasing her with his tongue until she opened her mouth and angled into him.  He felt her whimper into his mouth and deepened the kiss, losing himself in the taste of her.  When they were breathless and dangerously close to losing control he pulled away.  “Gin…”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed as she rested her forehead on his shoulder, “you make a very hard argument for a girl to say no.”

“That’s not why I stopped,” he said, looking at her again with his intense, green gaze.  “I need to go.  I’m going to go and do this thing for McGonagall,” he said quietly as he averted his eyes again by looking into the fire.  “Then when I’m done we’re going to talk.  We’re going to talk about the rest of our lives.”

“I’m going with you.”

“Ginny, we’ve been over this.” Harry stated firmly.  “You’re not going into harm’s way.  You’re going to stay right here where it’s safe.  You’re going to stay with your mum and dad.  You’ll never even know I was gone.  It will happen just like that,” he said snapping his fingers.

“Damn it, Harry,” Ginny reproached urgently as she grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to look her in the eyes, “shove your ego trip up your arse!  You’re NOT listening to me…I HAVE TO GO WITH YOU!”

Confused by Ginny’s loud, physical display, Harry sat back, dumbfounded.  “What’s up with you, Ginny?”

“Harry, you have to listen to me.  I have to go,” Ginny implored.  “If you insist on doing this, I must go.”

“Why?” he asked gruffly.  “There’s no possible reason for you to do this.”

“I disarmed you, Harry,” she whispered.  “If the story is true, you’re no longer the Master of the wand.”

His eyes widening in horror, Harry shot from the chair nearly tumbling Ginny onto the floor.  Once he steadied her on her feet, he started to pace anxiously in front of the fire, dragging his hand through his hair anxiously.  “You took my holly wand, Ginny,” he said optimistically, even though his tone implied otherwise.

“It doesn’t matter, does it?  I still disarmed you.  Malfoy was the wand’s Master and he never even held it!  If the story is really true like Hermione said,” Ginny tried to explain, “the wand isn’t going to work for you.  I have to be the one to use it.”

Harry sat back in the chair and cradled his head in his hands.  He couldn’t believe he didn’t think of this.  He was about to play savior with a useless wand.  “All right,” he relented.  “You go.  We need to talk to McGonagall.”

* * *

Hermione watched Ginny disappear through the door of the Room of Requirement and sighed.  This whole bad business with the Time-turner was unsettling.  Figuring she had a few minutes before Harry and Ginny reappeared, she walked back to the staircase to find Ron.  Spotting him right where she’d left him, she made her way down the stairs until she reached the landing of the fourth floor.  Never one to waste time, Hermione summoned one of the volumes she was reading when Ginny barged into the library for the second time and then continued down the stairs.

“Ron,” Hermione said as she patted her boyfriend on the shoulder, “I’ve found Harry.  He and Ginny are in the Room of Requirement right now.  We need to go back and wait on them.”

Ron shot up with a growl.  “The Room of Requirement, are they?  When I get my bloody paws on him…”

“Ronald Weasley, I swear,” Hermione chided as she cuffed him on the shoulder. “Is sex the only thing you think about?”

“Er, well, um, ah…” Ron sputtered as his face and ears turned a bright, purplish, beet color.

Grabbing him by the arm, Hermione drug her boyfriend up the stairs as she set him straight.  “Just because the only thing you can think about is how to get into my knickers doesn’t mean that’s all Harry thinks about!”

“Hermione, I assure you, he’s male: the only thing Harry thinks about is getting into knickers,” Ron divulged uncomfortably.  “Why do you think I’m so bloody overprotective of Ginny?”

“Do you honestly think I believe Ginny doesn’t have the good sense to know when to shed her knickers, Ron?” Hermione reproached, continuing up the stairs.  “Besides, that’s quite the double standard, you filthy hypocrite!” she said under her breath wickedly as she glanced over at her boyfriend with a chaste look.

“’mione,” Ron winked as his ears tinged red, “you know I can’t handle it when you talk dirty.”

“Oh, you can believe I’m going to talk dirty if we’re not outside that room when Harry and Ginny come out,” she huffed as they climbed the last flight of stairs to the seventh floor.  “Come on!”  They rounded the stairwell and stopped in the corridor next to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy while Hermione rechecked the map for Harry and Ginny.  “Oh, good, they’re still there,” she sighed in relief.  Why don’t we just have a seat and wait for them?”

“You want me to sit on the cold floor?” Ron said incredulously, squishing his face into a grimace.

“Merlin, Ron, are you a wizard or not?” Hermione said, exasperated.  “I reckon I’ll do this myself…” she said as she conjured a squashy couch.  “Is this more suitable than the floor, Mr. Weasley?”

“Um, this is great!” Ron said as he plopped down and patted the cushion beside him, indicating he wanted Hermione to join him.  “If I had a sandwich and some pumpkin juice I’d be perfect,” he hinted.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione sighed.  There was no way to make Ron forget about food.  She joined her boyfriend on the couch and cuddled next to him with her book, making herself comfortable as she read.

“Bloody hell, Hermione, we’re in a deserted corridor and you’re reading a book?”

“Language,” she admonished and then returned her attention to the chapter she was reading.  “This is important.”

“There is nothing more important than making up for lost time…” Ron mumbled as he nibbled her ear.

“Ron,” Hermione pleaded, “I’m trying to read…”

“’mione,” he whined into her neck as he trolled his fingers down the side of her breast, “watching you read is boring.”

“If you must…” she breathed, and pushed the book aside to turn her full attention to her boyfriend.

Twenty minutes later, Ron and Hermione still lay snogging senselessly on the couch.  The privacy of the seventh-floor corridor had afforded them quite the opportunity to rumple themselves; Hermione’s hair was in full disarray and all their buttons and zippers seemed to be unfastened…

“Oi!  My eyes are burning out of my head!” Harry snickered.  “Ginny quick, back in the room!”

Ginny clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles.  Her brother and Hermione were slithering like eels in the corridor.  “Merlin, get a room!  If Mum finds you like that she’ll shrink your bits!” she squealed in delight.

Hermione shrieked from underneath an utterly mortified Ron when they noticed their friends gaping mercilessly in the hallway; the couple curled deep into the couch to cover themselves.

“Um, Harry, why don’t we step back into the room a moment so, uh, the happy couple can collect themselves?” Ginny chortled, trying her best to sound authoritative.

“Marvelous idea, Ginny,” Harry concurred as they jumped back into the room and slammed the door behind them.

Ginny and Harry had barely shut the door and leaned their backs against it before they broke into a mad fit of giggles.  “Oh my!” Ginny panted, out-of-breath and doubled over from a hitch in her side.  “Did you see Hermione’s face?  I think her bra was unhooked!”

“Did you get a look at Ron?  The bloke’s pants were unzipped!  If I didn’t just witness that with my own eyes I’d never believe it!” Harry gasped, crying with laughter.  “Hermione: sex goddess!”

“Stop!” Ginny shrieked.  “Oh, you’ve got to stop!  I can’t breathe,” she huffed, trying to steady her breathing.  “Really, we’ve got to get ‘hold of ourselves! D’you reckon they’ve pulled themselves together?” she said, wiping her eyes.

Harry choked back the last of his giggles and collected himself.  He looked at Ginny.  “Seriously, though, the next time I hear him say something to me about wrecking your honor, I reckon I might hex him.”

“Be my guest.  He’s such a filthy prat…out there practically sucking Hermione’s face off,” she said, standing tall to compose herself.  “Let’s try this again.”  Ginny said pulling open the door to find a very red-faced Hermione and a very ambivalent Ron.

“We’re, uh, sorry you had to see that,” Ron apologized.

“Forget it,” Ginny and Harry said in unison, dropping the issue with ruthless grins.  “Oh, Hermione,” Ginny quipped, “forget what I said about kissing you.  Blech!”

Hermione made an annoyed face at Ginny and then commented to Harry, “Are you going to do it?”

“We are,” Harry said.  “We were just on our way down to find Professor McGonagall.”

“Harry, I really don’t have a good feeling about this,” Hermione warned as she reached out to stop him.  “It’s different this time.  This isn’t Buckbeak.”

“I know, Hermione,” Harry assured her.

“Really, Harry,” Hermione pleaded, “I’ve changed my mind.  I don’t think you should do this.  Remember what Dumbledore said — I mean, about me — that he counted on me to slow you down?”

For the first time since running down the lawn toward Dumbledore’s tomb, Harry felt unsure.  “What do you mean?”

“Just think about it, Harry.  It’s all too easy,” Hermione stated as she started to lay out her defense.  “Flamel, the Resurrection Stone, the business with Grindelwald…Horcruxes?  If it’s as easy as spinning the Time-turner, why would Dumbledore spend his life doing all those things?  Why would they have mattered?  I’m telling you, this isn’t right.”

“But what about McGonagall?” Harry queried in confusion.  “Why wouldn’t he just say as much to her?”

“When has Dumbledore ever spoken in a complete sentence?  Everything he’s ever told us has been a riddle,” Hermione declared matter-of-factly.  “He’s always made us work things out for ourselves.  I can’t imagine he’d be any different with one of the professors simply because she’s older.  Can you?”

“Good point, Hermione…” Harry said as he scratched his head.

“I’m just telling you, Harry…If you do this, I don’t think it’s wise to alter anything that could possibly affect the death of Voldemort.  And well, that’s pretty much everything.  I think every single thing that happened has a cause and effect relationship with some other.  You really need to carefully consider what you’re doing.”

“I will, Hermione,” Harry promised, “now Ginny and I need to go find the Headmistress.”  Taking Ginny’s hand, the two made their way down the stairs to the second floor.  They walked silently as they traversed the corridor, stopping beside the gargoyle sentry poised outside the McGonagall’s office.

“Ginny, I need to talk to you about something,” Harry said as he looked at Ginny uncomfortably.

“What?  Didn’t you understand what Hermione was saying?  I agree with her Harry.  Let’s just move on,” she pleaded with her brown eyes.

“I didn’t want to do this for McGonagall.”

“What are you talking about, Harry?” Ginny said, confused.

“I wanted to do it for Fred…for us.”

“NO!” Ginny cried out, causing Harry to take a step back in shock.  “Fred wouldn’t have wanted you to do this!  I love my brother, Harry, but I, but…but this is just…”  Ginny didn’t finish the sentence as she dissolved into tears.

Harry looked shell-shocked.  He didn’t expect Ginny to be so vehement about his decision to rescue Fred.  “Gin…I love you.  I love your family…if you could have everyone back together wouldn’t you want that?” he said softly.

“It’s not right, Harry!” she cried into her hands as he wrapped his arms around her.  “He’s gone.  This is wrong.  It’s not natural!  I won’t do it!”

“That’s fine, Ginny.  But I’m going anyway.  There are things…there are people…there’s just stuff I need to do, okay?  I don’t have t’have the bloody wand to do it.”

“Harry, no!”

“I’m serious, Ginny.  It’s not just about what McGonagall wants.  It’s about me — it’s about me being part of an ‘us’.  I have to do this,” Harry averred.  Determined, he left Ginny crying in the corridor, made his way past the unconcerned gargoyle and up the spiral staircase.