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Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related concepts are owned by someone who isn't me. I will never seek or accept money for the circulation of this work. Especially this work.



Holly Polter

Chapter: Ink

Harry didn't feel like reading any more once Sirius had got him ranting. At his godfather's suggestion they trundled down towards the library for more comfortable seating, but Harry stopped at the sliding door. It felt like returning to the scene of the crime.

Sirius must have caught a sense of that from Harry's expression, as he turned back out of the library and led them down past the kitchen into the wine cellar. It was cold, damp, cramped and full of cobwebs too thick to ignore. Sirius had to bat away a few fist-sized arachnids to retrieve the bottles he then foisted into Harry's arms. They returned to the kitchen with their bounty and to read the labels in better light than a Lumos could provide.

"No, not the Port; mother never had a sweet tooth so she bought the cheap stuff for serving to guests. It only looks respectable- it's probably all bitter sediment."

Assisted by a few shots of Ogden's Finest Forbidden Forest Ferment ('Dark and murky, with a taste of wonder or horror in every sip'), they settled into talking over everything that had happened since Harry's birthday. Harry enjoyed the conversation and felt better the longer they talked about what it all meant, though nothing was resolved. Or if it was, he couldn't remember what they decided about it.

It was probably due to the mysterious and wondrous effects of the whisky that Sirius started flinging spells around. It wasn't rage, exactly-Sirius locked and sealed the front door, disabled the door chime, attached wall-like sound-proof paneling in front of many of the portraits, and ordered Kreacher to limit his activity to the old Master bedroom or the kitchen. All of the twisted elf's cleaning efforts of late were performed in direct conflict with Sirius' war on the legacies of his family, so Sirius was essentially putting Kreacher in elf-jail.

Harry and Sirius were back in the kitchen, in the process of blocking and renaming the Floo access to 'Black's Bloody Bunker' when the green flames flared up in their faces, depositing Tonks right into them and knocking all three to the floor.

From within the tangle she asked, "What's the idea, boys?"

"We're kickin' out th'Order," Sirius declared, "You should go!"

From the bottom of the pile, Harry waved a hand above where Tonks was sprawled on top of him and said, "Nuh-uh; she's family. Family gets a pass."

Tonks scoffed and said, "You're drunk, the both of you!"

"How d'you know?" challenged Sirius.

"Well you'd better be, 'cause you're both still groping me."

Sirius just cackled, but Harry checked his errant hand and found that it was well-cushioned against Tonks' breast- which one he wasn't certain. He gave it a squeeze, which earned him a yelp and a smack on the shoulder.

The left one, as it turns out. Quite firm.

When Tonks stood up, Harry saw that she was quite disheveled but her eyes had taken on a rather fiery amber colouring. She shook a finger at him, but didn't enunciate exactly what for- only growling in a way that promised future retribution. He responded by giving her an innocent shrug, known throughout English-speaking nations as meaning, 'I'm drunk and fifteen, Officer. Mea culpa.'

Tonks declared she was already dead on her feet from working twelve straight hours, so she rallied just enough authority to command both of them back to Sirius' bedroom to sleep off their liquor. The work had been done, though. With a last flick at the fireplace, Sirius had locked down Grimmauld Place. It wasn't really an added defense so much as a message to recent visitors- 'closed until further notice'.

Harry awoke mid-morning and, rather than face the rest of the house, resumed reading from Holly's journal. He was particularly focused on 'Section Two: advice specific to Harry's situation'. What he read there prompted him to shake his godfather awake and out of dog form so as to get his opinion.

Sirius read over the passage. He was fittingly sympathetic; "I'd never heard what it said. No wonder Holly's so motivated to teach you." He then stumbled into the bed that Harry was no longer using and returned to snoring away his hangover.

An hour later Harry roused Sirius again to say, "I need to tell them."

"Er... whuh? Okay." Sirius seemed to have dismissed the topic, but then he sat up and squinted at Harry. "Eh, I wouldn't use 'anointed by Fate' as a good reason for them to join you."

"I'm not. If anything, I'll use it to explain why I'm nothing special and could really use the help."

"Ah. The 'cute puppy chained in front of a steamroller' ploy. Best to use that before your reputation as a sex god makes its way into public knowledge."

Harry seethed, "Do you have anything helpful to add?"

Sirius groaned while falling back onto the mattress, then replied, "Not until I've had a cuppa."

When they finally came down to join the others, they were inundated with various questions and offered condolences. Even Bill said a few words- he had just returned to London in time for Ron's prefecture party, but hadn't been involved in confronting Holly as he had crashed out in a spare bedroom even before Holly had come downstairs.

Tonks was especially apologetic to Harry, as she now understood why he and Sirius had been drinking the night before. The two deflected all questions, asking everyone to meet with them after their very late lunch for a collective debriefing in the library. For this purpose, the scene of the crime would be entirely the right place.

While Harry was eating, the pieces and parts of what he wanted to say kept flopping around in his head, never connecting. Harry stood in front of them all in the library and even the fragments had gone into hiding. The lingering pain from the hangover was ruining his focus a bit as well.

He recalled the mask he'd been using in front of the Wizengamot and by slipping into it, he was relieved to discover that the throbbing in his temple seemed less distracting. Then the words came out from hiding and he lined them up like errant children for presentation.

"First, thank you all for your concerns. I've had a rough time of it lately," he orated. "As you may have heard or even witnessed, Holly Evans, my close friend and tutor, was confronted last night by the Order of the Phoenix. They accused her of seducing me for some sinister purpose. They said she was an inhuman spirit, a mix of boggart and poltergeist, and while we had our backs turned discussing it, Snape did his best to destroy her. So far it looks like he succeeded." Even though most of them already knew this, there was a swell of murmured sentiments for his loss.

I think they expect me to blush and say something self-deprecating, but I just don't see the value.

Sirius interjected, "That's why the Order is no longer operating out of this house. You lot are welcome to stay for safety's sake, so long as you promise not to discuss what Harry's about to say with anyone, even the Order. Everyone agreed?"

They all nodded, so Sirius deferred attention back to Harry.

"So, yeah- Holly was a spirit given substance. Yeah, she seduced me, but she never betrayed me, and she told me everything she could. She taught me more about life and magic in less than a week than I've learned since the first time I entered Diagon Alley. At each step, she'd offered and I accepted. It was always by my choice." Harry then held up the journal; "Holly also left me some instructions, in case she were taken from me too soon."

"Savvy girl," Bill commented. He earned some looks for that and added, "She planned ahead. What?"

"Savviest person I've ever met, bar none," Harry said. Ignoring Hermione's jolt of affront, he continued, "Holly told me that I had a job to do and that I'm going to need help from people I trust to do it. Your help, if you agree."

Ron prompted, "What's the job, Harry?"

"Kill Voldemort, survive the confrontation, then change the world for the better once I have everyone's attention." Harry had stunned his audience, so he let them stare up at him as he stood with deliberate calm. He then asked, "Are you all on board with that? Can I trust you? Can I rely on you?"

"But, that's... that can't be your job," Hermione insisted, "not really."

"Yes, it is. At least Holly thought so and she had a very specific reason why." Harry then placed the leather-bound notebook in front of them and opened it to a page of handwritten notes. Instead of having them read it, Harry then placed a carved corner of agate on top of the journal, and Sirius tapped the rock with his wand, lighting a lined pattern of rune etchings in the stone to activate it.

The Sounding Stone began to recite the contents of the page in Holly's voice:

"Section 2 - subject is 'on Divination'

"When I told you that Destiny was expecting great music from you, it wasn't just familial pride or some psycho-mother-thing. Your life is caged by a prophecy, just as mine was. You can find the original in the Prophecy storehou--"

With a flick of his wand Lupin had knocked the stone away, at the same time saying, "Harry, stop! The prophecy shouldn't be shared like this."

Harry looked at the man with a hint of irritation. "Thank you for confirming for us all that there is a prophecy. How do you know about it?"

Lupin shook his head, saying, "I can't divulge--"

"Answer my question or get out. Whose side are you on, anyway?"

"There shouldn't be sides in this," Lupin urged him, "You mustn't oppose Dumbledore."

"I don't; he opposes me." Harry paced for a moment, then added, "Right after I'd watched Cedric die and Voldemort return, he cut me off from meaningful post and shut me away in the muggle world, isolating me from friends and allies; it's a wonder my head didn't explode. Yet even after I'm attacked by Dementors and told I'd been expelled - with my wand and my freedom hanging in the balance - he wouldn't talk to me, listen to me or even bloody look at me.

"I'm not in his way at all, but he has very much been in mine. Hopefully we can work something out, but he's lost my trust. If all you have to contribute is his line of thinking, you should leave. Stay or go, Lupin, but make your choice."

"I'll... stay."

"And if Holly shows up again, will you continue to harass her?"

"I promise, I will not."

"Good," Harry said fiercely. "Let's listen to what she has to say."

Sirius had retrieved the enchanted agate and at Harry's gesture activated it. Once more, Holly's voice echoed from the stone;

"Section 2 - subject is 'on Divination'

"When I told you that Destiny was expecting great music from you, it wasn't just familial pride or some psycho-mother-thing. Your life is caged by a prophecy, just as mine was. You can find the original in the Prophecy storehouse in the Department of Mysteries section of the Ministry of Magic in London, but what you'll hear should say something like this:

The Dark Lord's nemesis shall be born in the next apex of Leo,
born out of the conviction of a couple known to oppose him.
The Dark Lord will be drawn to destroy the babe,
but can only leave a mark to recognise his nemesis in future,
for neither can be vanquished until made equal in status
when they will be impelled to end their conflict.
Both shall suffer, incomplete until their opposition is ended.
A Lion shall rise with the power to slay the Serpent.

"The wording may vary but that's the essence of the message: your life is fucked until you settle with Riddle, and it won't happen until you can face him fairly. What Destiny calls 'equal in status' is a subject worth seven books of conjecture, but I wouldn't rely on much more than reaching adulthood before this fuse burns down. You've got two years to build your army, Harry. I think you should make it mean something more than 'We're gonna kill the bad guy'."

Having reached the bottom of the page, the recitation stopped. Harry let a silence pass, allowing everyone to think through what was said. He then asked Lupin, "Was that the prophecy you heard?"

He sighed in defeat. "None of us have heard it, Harry. The Order has been protecting it. Only you or Voldemort should be able to retrieve the sphere that contains the prophecy."

"Why are they guarding it? Why not just bring me there to take it?"

"Professor Snape has reported that Voldemort has become obsessed with understanding how you've defeated him in the past."

"So..."

Hermione jumped in, "It's a lure, isn't it- to get him to show in public?"

"Yes, exactly!" Lupin enthused. He stopped himself, then looked around at everyone. "If... if Voldemort finds out that anyone in this room knows the full prophecy, he'll capture them and torture them until they tell him what it says."

Harry grumbled, "I should just send him a copy and be done with it."

Tonks suggested, "Or maybe write up something close to right, but it says you can only be defeated by strawberries."

"Wouldn't that mean that a Weasley is Harry's only weak spot?" teased Ginny, "I like that version."

"Ah, but if we do that," said Mr. Weasley, "we'll have made our family a priority target for You-Know-Who."

"More importantly, we'll have lost that chance to prove to the public that he's back." Lupin huffed but then saw that Mr. Weasley was giving him a critical eye, while mouthing, 'More importantly?' He shrugged in apology, gesturing towards Harry.

Harry gave out a sigh. "Alright, we'll leave the prophecy aside for now. Just put it out of your minds, 'cause it really doesn't change things. I think we all suspected that I would end up having to fight him. Now we know, and I know I can't win against him on my own. Will you help me? Lupin?"

"Yes."

"Tonks?"

"Sure-sure!"

"Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes, Harry. But try not to risk anything until you have to."

Harry asked each one in turn, until they would look him in the eye and say they were on his side.

As he was locking eyes with Ron, with Ginny and Hermione the last to follow, Mrs. Weasley interrupted, "Harry, dear, you mustn't ask this of the underaged--"

"Mrs-- Molly, I was assaulted just outside of Diagon Alley by Macnair, the morning of the Dementor attack. Oh, and then I was attacked by Dementors. Do you honestly think our enemies are going to care if their targets don't have their OWL's yet? When they come, should we face them as victims or as skilled opponents? Our chances of surviving a fight are greater if my friends know what they're on about. Besides, do you think if someone was attacking me that Ron or Hermione'd just stand aside?"

"I won't," Ginny answered, "I'll be ambushing them before they know where to aim. And they won't be getting back up."

Harry grinned towards her and said, "That's the kind of help I need." He turned back to Molly Weasley and said, "I also need advice, and help with organisation, and someone who can patch up some injuries." He gestured towards Fred, George, Bill, Ron and Ginny. "They're with me, and you'll be able to keep an eye on them better if you're with me, too."

Molly fought with herself, both angry and teary-eyed, until she lurched forward to grab Harry into a hug. "Of course, dear boy. I just... didn't want to face it."

Sirius announced, "Welcome to Potter's Underground Army."

Mrs. Weasley let Harry go and stepped away. She kept shaking her head, but she didn't say another word. If anything, that was more disquieting to Harry and his friends than if she were yelling at them.

~oOo~

Much to Ginny's surprise and delight, training began almost immediately that afternoon. Tonks, Harry, Remus and Sirius all talked about what a 'real' duel was like, from their varied experiences. Harry's version related to events in Ginny's life, but Tonks had her Auror training and field work to source, and Professor Lupin and Sirius both had fought for the first Order of the Phoenix. Of course, Lupin's lessons were framed in a scholarly form, whereas Sirius' were like stories old friends might share over drinks.

Several times, Sirius had turned to Harry to ask 'if he remembered that one time--', but would stop when he remembered that James Potter wasn't in the room. Harry would give him a reassuring grin. The first time, he added, "I'd love to hear about it later tonight, Sirius. Let's get back to this." The other times, Harry'd just nod as if to say 'another for the list.'

It was really sweet, and Ginny mentioned it to Harry during a break. He only shrugged and said, "We all have wounds to heal, I guess. Thanks. I'll keep doing it."

That night as Ginny finished prepping for sleep, Hermione sat down across from her. Looking over her shoulder towards their door, she said, "It feels strange- I don't think he's grieving. That can't be good."

Ginny countered, "I'm sure Harry is dealing with this as best he can. Besides... the way he talked down there; didn't it make you just clench your thighs together?"

Hermione blushed and coughed and blustered. Eventually she worked out some sentences to say; "I would never try to work around you, you know that Ginny, right?"

"You've got the buzz for Harry! Years of denials and now your secret is out."

"No! I didn't! He just... he's changed."

"And that's what's got you worried? That he's getting confident, finally?"

"Harry is... he might not... need my help anymore. Am I really his friend or just the girl that used to sort his problems for him?"

Ginny goggled with disbelief. "And here I was going to ask you what's going on in his head. You really don't know him either, do you?"

Hermione's head snapped back around to glare at Ginny. "I knew him just fine, thank you, up until this Holly Evans spirit showed up. I can guess how she got to him, but I'm worried about what she's done to him."

"Shagged him rotten and told him some harsh truths, looks like."

"And you don't have a problem with that?"

"Well I would have liked to have been his first, one day, but now I have to think he's much better at it than if we were figuring things out together. What's your problem with her, if it isn't that you wanted Harry for yourself?"

Hermione expression of disbelief was almost comical. "That... woman represented the worst sort of unprincipled and dangerous witch I could think of that isn't actually a Death-eater! Didn't you listen to her lessons? She wanted Harry to manipulate people, and to shut off his emotions and be... Slytherin! She was trying to change Harry, corrupt him into God-knows-what." Hermione added in a whisper, "She wanted to turn him into a murderer."

At first Ginny wanted to tell Hermione she was being foolish, but the words rung true. It gave her pause.

"I think that woman could have convinced him to do just about anything," Hermione said, "and if that's not dangerous, I don't know what is. And that she's still influencing him through that journal? It's not right."

Ginny nodded and sat silent in thought. The clock downstairs chimed the hour. Finally Ginny said, "I didn't think of it that way, and I see your point, but you got one thing wrong- she wasn't trying to make him a murderer. This is a war; Harry needs to become a soldier, a commander. And I know I won't feel safe until someone kills Vol-- He-Who-- Riddle. Kills him, permanently. That's not murder, or even revenge. It'll be saving us from a monster that threatens to destroy us all."

"You're being a bit dramatic."

"No, I'm not. As a 5th year -younger than you- Tom Riddle found a Basilisk and chose to let it out into the school until it killed someone. It wasn't a fluke or an accident- the moment he could get me to do it again for him, he did. He's a monster who enjoys causing others to suffer. Maybe Holly is right, and Harry needs to be a bit monstrous too, if he wants to win."

"But then we'll have won by becoming--"

"Stop treating this as if Riddle was a person! He's a hurricane that won't stop turning; he's a volcano that erupts again just when the flowers start to grow; a flood that only recedes to come back stronger and more destructive. You can't defeat that without doing something fairly epic as well."

"And you think Harry can make that happen better than Albus Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore was fighting Riddle the last time and didn't beat him. Harry did, and the way Dumbledore treats him, I think he expects Harry to do it again. The more we talk about it, the more I'm with Holly- Harry has to make some noise. Being quiet, humble and oblivious hasn't exactly kept him safe, now has it?"

It was Hermione's turn to sit back and consider. After a bit she murmured, "Commander Harry?"

Ginny grinned and stood up at attention in front of her bed and saluted, her modest chest thrust outward. "'Yes, Commander Potter, sir.' Makes you want to follow his orders, doesn't it?" She added in a smoky, yearning voice, "Command me, sir. Pleeeease?"

Hermione giggled, and then stood up to join in to the roleplay with a stern but suggestive, "Show some discipline, Witch Weasley, or I will have to... punish you.'"

Ginny exhaled audibly and said, "I don't know if I'd be able to stand up straight for too long if he started talking like that."

"Hopefully he'd be ordering us to do something else with our positions."

"'Us', Hermione? I thought you said--"

"Alright, I admit it! New Harry makes me think naughty thoughts. You're not helping."

"Wasn't trying to."

"Cheeky witch." Returning to her sultry-stern voice, she added, "Sounds like you could use some of my punishment, Witch Weasley."

A tremor shot through her. Ginny caught her breath in her throat and snapped her gaze at Hermione, who was blushing quite deeply.

Hermione murmured, "I meant... I mean from Harry. Or..."

"Uh... let's just get some sleep, yeah?"

Both witches kept their eyes away from the other while they settled into bed. Hermione said 'good night' and shut off the one lamp, leaving the room lit only by the waning moon from the window.

Ginny's mind wouldn't stop racing. She was caught on an idea, and kept considering her choices; it came down to whether she should confront Hermione with a perilous question or stay silent and just allow their discomforting moment to pass. A memory of Holly's face rose in her mind's eye, from a moment of vulnerability they'd shared when they were talking about Ginny's experiences with Tom in her head.

Ginny said, "I've never kissed a girl, Hermione. Have you?"

From the shadow of blankets came a quiet, "No."

"Have you ever considered it?"

"No."

"Oh." Ginny relaxed. "G'night th--"

"But I am now."

"Me, too."

The silence dragged on for a bit. Finally Hermione said, "That woman was evil, Ginny. Look what she's done to us."

Opened my eyes. Showed me understanding when I never would have expected it. Gave the reassurances that no one else ever could give, to know that I'd actually beaten Riddle, and how much of a triumph that was... all in the space of a day. She was as energizing (and disruptive) as a lightning bolt.

Ginny said nothing. There was no point arguing with Hermione about it- she wouldn't understand, unless and until she'd been struck by that lightning.

That, and Hermione always has to have the last word, doesn't she? Else she'll just start up again from a different angle. The only way to get to sleep is to let her win, let her last declaration echo in the silence for a bit.

'Look what she's done to us.'

I am looking, Hermione, and I want more.

~oOo~

For the next several days, Harry and Sirius drilled everyone on the basic spells that had saved Harry in the past- disarming, stunning, binding& shielding. They also demonstrated the 'deconstruction' charms like the gouging hex, blasting hex, wall-breaker and the ever-handy Reducto, and had them practice those until they were comfortable with them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would toss a spell when asked, but they demonstrated a competence that surprised most everyone aside from Bill. Sirius was particularly stunned, and mentioned that they hadn't been part of the original Order of the Phoenix.

"I thought Fabian and Gideon Prewett were exceptional duelists," Sirius recalled, "but I reckon the talent didn't stop there, and Molly wouldn't settle to marry a fool. Arthur is so mild-mannered, too. You'd never suspect him."

During the day was training and planning- a good focus for his mind, but at night Harry was plagued by nightmares- horrible things that often woke him in time to heave out his prior meal. He could sense that the visions weren't drawn from his subconscious. Voldemort was having a field day with his brain, which felt more exposed since Holly's dissolution. Harry's only consolation was that it didn't feel like his mind was being plundered- he was getting these horrid visions like telly signals, so he figured Voldemort wasn't looking for anything- or maybe he couldn't.

Still, the pressure was on him, and their bunker mentality only made the house more oppressive in its darkness. As he read more from Holly's journal, he began to hear the passages in her voice. It spooked him enough that he sought a bit of perspective from someone he figured he could trust and understand in the matter.

Sadly, all Hermione would say is, "If you think the book is talking to you, you should lock it away somewhere safe. We don't want a repeat of the trouble we had second year. I mean it, Harry. Give it to Sirius or Professor Lupin and have them secure it until they can give it a thorough going-over."

He nodded to assure her that he would follow her advice, but that was primarily to get her off his back. Instead he sought out Ginny, somewhat incongruously finding her reading in the library after leaving Hermione in the kitchen.

"Uh, hey Ginny. Whatcha reading?"

Ginny looked up at him as he sat across from her and smiled, showing him the front cover of 'The Dark Arts Outsmarted'. "Just looking for an edge, my Captain."

"I need to ask you something." At her nod, he said, "You remember what it was like, dealing with Riddle's diary?" Her expression turned cold and he winced. "Oh- I'm an idiot. You probably don't want to talk about--"

"It's fine, Harry. I'm not a wilting flower, you know. We beat it," Ginny reassured him, "I just wasn't expecting you to bring it up." She put down her book and leaned forward so that the discussion could be more private.

Harry leaned in as well. "Right. So here's the thing. I have this journal that Holly was writing to advise me, and sometimes... sometimes it feels like she's talking right to me. Did you get that sort of feeling from the diary?"

Ginny looked around with some concern. Sensing this, Harry added the muffling spell to enhance their isolation.

"You'll have to teach me that one," Ginny remarked,"and find out if there's a counter-charm. Dumbledore put up something like it when talking to Snape that night."

"Yeah, Holly taught it to me. She said Snape invented it."

"Creepy, but fitting. Anyway, you were asking about the diary. At first I only traded writing with him. After a while I could hear his voice as the words appeared on the page, so long as I was touching it. It wasn't too long after that when I started blanking out. He... he must have been taking possession of me by then."

Harry stared down at the leather journal in his hand. "Could you feel him in it, when you held the diary?"

He saw Ginny's eyes widen. "Yes, Harry. If you can feel her in the journal, put it down, right now!"

"No I can't feel her, but I wasn't sure if I should," he assured her. "I only had the diary for a short time and I think it felt alive after I'd been sucked into a memory from it, but I couldn't remember."

"Yeah. His memories... they were always dark and... tainted somehow." Ginny gave him a calculating look. "Give me the journal, Harry."

"Why?"

"In case you're lying about how it feels. If it's influencing you, you might not be able to stop yourself. Put the journal in my hand."

Harry nodded, and then placed the book in Ginny's open hands. He let go and watched Ginny's face as she scrunched it up in concentration.

After a minute, she relaxed and smiled at him. "Pretty sure it's just a book, Harry."

Harry smiled in relief. He took it back from her and said, "Yeah, but it's a really great book." He opened it up to the section on personality assessments and they settled next to each other on the couch so they could read together. Within minutes they were laughing at Holly's rather wicked observations on the various Professors of Hogwarts, including a few they'd never heard of.

~o~

Mr. Weasley approached Harry after dinner on the night of Friday the 25th. When they had found a private corner, he handed Harry a folded copy of the Daily Prophet, explaining, "Molly doesn't want to see these with all the lies they've been printing about you and about Dumbledore, but I saw this one and thought you might want a copy."

Harry unfolded the section; the article was a follow-up on Harry's hearing. The details of the text didn't interest him half as much as the two moving photographs- pictures of Holly. One was rather indistinct as it seemed to have been taken from the corner of a larger photo, but it showed Holly leaning back beneath the statue in the Atrium wearing her huntress outfit, relaxing in a shaft of artificial sunlight. The second was sharper- Holly was standing at the witness dais speaking up towards the Wizengamot, Mr. Weasley's tweed robe wrapped tight to her body. Her face was mostly turned away from the camera so it only showed her ear and the curve of her jawline- no doubt it was the only photo of her testimony that they could find.

"What do they say about her?"

"Oh, I doubt you'd want to read that," he said with a coy look.

Harry nodded to him and read it anyway.

...and who is this mysterious woman in Harry Potter's life? The Irish witch shares a family name with Harry's murdered mother, Lily Evans Potter, and also bears more than a passing resemblance to that honoured hero, the last victim of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Has Harry Potter fallen under the sway of this saucy seductress? Is this 'tutor' twisting Mr. Potter's yearning for his lost mother into a forbidden romance? Given the dubious state of Harry Potter's mind, it is doubtful he could resist this fiery redhead's obvious charms. We at the Prophet will be looking deeper into this liaison and will bring to you the secrets that these two - the wild child and the wanton witch - are hiding from the world.

Harry chuckled. "Figures- the only time they get it close to right, it's because the truth is stranger than their fiction. Thanks for this, sir."

"Call me Arthur, Harry. One other thing..."

Harry paled, wondering if perhaps he'd been sitting too close to Ginny lately, enough to trigger a parental intervention. "Yes, sir... Arthur?"

"Professor Dumbledore contacted me while I was at work today. The man is nearly begging to speak to you." He raised his hands when Harry's expression turned guarded. "I didn't say anything about what we're doing here, except to hint that you were in mourning. But please, Harry, consider at least negotiating with him. We do have similar goals, and we will be stronger united than divided."

"I know sir. I'm planning to speak with him before term starts at least. Give me a few more days to work something out and then we'll meet. I'd like your opinion, of course."

"After dinner, then?"

"Yeah. I already had Kreacher hide the liquor so that we might keep Sirius on topic this time."

"Learning how to plan ahead, I see. Well done."

~o~

Sometimes during the day, Harry would be interrupted in his activities by visions like those he saw in his nightmares. The jolting shift of perspective would send him reeling, but if he concentrated he could shunt the visions into the background where they would still make noise but not enough to interfere with his ability to walk.

At night they were worse, for he slept defenseless. How could he both concentrate and be asleep? Pushing his bedtime into the wee hours served to exhaust him enough that the fear of the nightmares wouldn't keep him from falling asleep, but his rest was barely restful. As it went on, Harry began to appreciate why Sirius and Lupin looked so much older than they should.

He was beginning to despair. The only thing that had held the visions at bay was Holly's presence, and going to sleep knowing she was watching over him. Even on the nights when it seemed Voldemort was taking the night off, his own anxieties will fill in for him. It seemed a callous way to think of her, but Harry needed a new Holly to watch over him, or he might go insane.

A symptom of this- Harry had taken to laying out Tarot card configurations on the floor, as the ritual of placement and calculated interpretation of the cards had proven to soothe his nerves.

Can't believe I'm looking for sanity from the teachings of Sybill Trelawney. If Holly hadn't written about the parts of Divination that could be useful, I wouldn't have even tried this.

Harry was interrupted from these thoughts by a knock on the doorframe to Sirius' bedroom. Ginny peeked in from the hall. "Mind of some company?"

"Love some, but... isn't this likely to upset your mum? The two of us, alone in a far bedroom?"

"Probably, but she's off to Diagon for our books, and my dad and Bill are away at work, of course."

"Well then we're safe for a bit. What's on your mind?"

Ginny stepped over his cards and dropped to sit on the floor across from him.

"I have this problem I've been trying to sort out," Ginny said, "and I wonder if you could help me with it?"

Harry noted that his Sustainer card was inverted, indicating a dramatic change. "Sure. What can I do?"

"Ehmm... I should explain first. Y'see, I had this... crush on you for a while. You may have noticed."

"I had noticed- or rather Hermione had and put the pieces together for me a while back. You've relaxed a bit around me since then, though. Figured it was done and gone." The Water card was the lightning-struck tower- gee, emotionally, I'm collapsing; as if I didn't know that.

"Not so much gone as put in the attic, but that's not really why I'm here... except it is."

Harry looked up from the array. "Why do I get the feeling you were waiting for your mum to leave the house?"

"I had to- Mum has some sort of sixth sense about these things. She'd be on us in a trice if I'd given her any hint why I'm up here."

"So why are you here?"

"I'd like to kiss you," she said with a nonchalant sigh. "Maybe more."

"I -- you --" Harry could feel his brain plunging into warm hormone gravy. Outwardly he covered for this by glancing away from Ginny and emitting a thoughtful, 'hmmm,' but inside he was thrashing in a bog of emotions, trying to find and reinstate his mask of command. During one of his lurches above the surface, he caught onto Ginny's nervous explanation already in progress.

"... wasn't sure you'd be keen, what with your relationship with Holly, but it was her that prompted this. She even insisted that Hermione and I get closer to you if possible. Close as we can. I'd like to be closer, Harry, and I think it might help you."

"H-help me? How? And you're sure Holly meant for you to--"

"I can't be sure of anything, Harry. That's the other half of what this is about. I think I might... like girls. I need to know if I've turned a corner somehow and won't find boys suitable, and I can't test my interest by cuddling up with one of my brothers or Sirius or an adult."

Harry coughed out a laugh.

"What?"

"Just the way you said that- I find it hard to think of Sirius as an adult sometimes- it's nice to know I'm not alone in that."

She laughed, but her laugh was different- not mocking as it usually was, but full of relief and delight. It caught him short.

Harry looked at Ginny with new eyes. She was young but developing, and surprisingly beautiful in a natural, undolled-up way. There was no mistaking her for a little girl. Her formerly straight copper hair had achieved some gentle curves that framed her face. Her smile flashed, her brown eyes shone with a gold light.

Where had she been hiding her beauty all this time?

She was wearing capris of thin fabric that clung to her bottom and thighs as if interrupting those perfect curves would be a travesty for clothing honour. Her legs from the knees down were bare, the pattern of freckles reminding him of a leopard. Her sleeveless cotton shirt showed off her tan-speckled shoulders and the pale skin of her neck and collar. Her breasts were smallish but prominent now beneath her shirt in how the nipples stood out against the fabric, tenting her scoop neck such that he could almost see them, even more being exposed as she was leaning forward...

They kissed.

Harry could feel the difference. Ginny had some experience but it wasn't at all the same. Holly would kiss him as if her lips were instruments of pleasure that she could wield to her whim. Ginny had confidence, but there was a fragility behind the boldness. As Harry tasted her, he felt the shivers of uncertain eagerness through her lips.

Is this what Holly felt when kissing me? There's something delicious about it, have to admit.

They continued for a while, and Harry was pleased she was also interested in extending their 'one kiss' as long as possible. When gravity and balance issues threatened to dislodge them, he leaned back from the kiss, opening his eyes wide to catch another glimpse of the hidden Ginny. A charged look arced between them.

"I'd say you're still interested," Harry said.

Ginny grinned madly, much as she would when having outflown the keeper to get a clean shot at the hoops. "Looks like! I could stand to try a few more tests, though."

"So would I..." He leaned forward, but his sense of honour sent up a pang of restraint, possibly from somewhere behind his jaw. He said, "but I thought you were going out with that Ravenclaw, Corner."

Ginny bowed her head. "Michael, yeah. I shouldn't... shouldn't go too far without letting him know I'm breaking it off."

"Is that for me? Don't give up on him for my sake. Michael's not a bad guy, and I... umm..."

She looked up at him again, offering an expression of understanding. "You're holding out for Holly coming back."

"Yeah."

She winced. "I wonder what she'd say if she caught us just now."

They smiled, both sharing a guilty grin to accompany the thrill that came from doing risky, forbidden things.

The giddiness of the moment crashed when the Sounding Stone scratched out, "Can I play, too?"

Harry and Ginny were up standing and backed against the wall before they'd realised they were moving. Harry had his wand out but Ginny had made do with hefting a brass candleholder.

The Stone echoed in Holly's voice again, this time with, "Good reflexes. I like that."

Harry spat at Ginny, "I thought you said it wasn't evil!"

"I said it felt like it was just a book. Tom's diary felt like a book at first, too."

"Well, why didn't you say that?!"

"I figured I was sensitive to it now. It didn't feel like anything!"

"We're gonna have to destroy it. It took a Basilisk fang last time, and I don't have any of those handy," he growled.

"Don't take that tone with me; it's not like I hid all your fangs on you, y'know?"

The Stone crackled out, "Uh, I'd like to just mention something."

Harry and Ginny both turned towards the Sounding Sound and barked, "No!"

"Well at least you agree about that," offered the Stone.

"She's right," Harry admitted, "We're better off cooperating than accusing each other."

"Harry, are you taking the advice of the possessed journal we're trying to destroy?"

"She doesn't lie to me and I've always found her advice relevant, useful and... sometimes really funny."

"Why thank you, sweetie," came a response from the Stone. "I love an appreciative audience."

Again, Harry and Ginny shouted in unison; "Shut up!"

"I will when you can answer this two-part question: where is the journal?"

Harry looked to confirm. "It's over there on Sirius' desk."

"And I'm speaking to you from..."

Harry and Ginny turned to look at the Sounding Stone which was propped atop a sheaf of parchment on a shelf... on the opposite side of the room. Also standing on the sheaf was a small translucent black... thing. Like a blob of motor oil, perhaps, but perched a bit above the paper as it was standing on several spindly limbs.

They cautiously approached the little blob- at short range, the oil-thing appeared to be lizard-like; the shape and size of a lean gecko with a whiplash tail.

The tail whipped around on the parchment. When it finished scribing a sentence in miniscule handwriting, the Sounding Stone echoed the content; "Please don't destroy the journal or I'll have to rewrite the whole bloody thing from scratch."

"Holly?"

The tail absorbed the ink on the parchment and scribed out a reply. "Yes, Harry. It's me. It seems the truth of my existence is even more entertaining for me than I suspected. I'm an ink imp. Or that's the form I came up with this time. Each time I get pasted I seem to come out differently. How very Gallifreyan of me."

Ginny queried, "Gallif-what?"

Harry waved a dismissive hand and said, "It's from a muggle telly show; ask Hermione to explain it." He then protested, "Where have you been? Why didn't you say something before now?"

"I've only a little magic," echoed the Stone, "Snape's spell reduced me to nothing but an angry speck of ink. It took me a while to build up enough juice to move around, much less activate the Sounding Stone. Without that projecting my voice, you'd probably just think I was another Grimmauld Place pest."

There was a pause, then the Stone exclaimed for her, "Ohey- Grimmauld Place! I know where we are now!"

~oOo~

Get it right; There's no blood thicker than ink
Hear what I say- nothing's as simple as you think
- 'Dirty Day', U2

~oOo~

Author's note: as demonstrated last chapter, I am pathologically incapable of writing something light-hearted. Having said that, I promise not to kill Holly again for at least a half-dozen chapters. Maybe even eighteen. Guaranteed Harry won't angst about it, and neither should you.