Author's Note: I know, it's been years. I'm so sorry. I've lived a lot of life since I've last updated, but WSaMo is still really dear to my heart. I love this story very much and was rather proud of what I had created. I am so protective of my Harry and Ginny, and to be frank I really mucked it up in the last few chapters. Like a reviewer had said, I'd been building up all this tension without any way of releasing it making the story drag and hurting my characters. Which happens when you write as you go. I'd considered taking down a few chapters and re-writing them but its already out there. So, I press on.

I've been working on this chapter for over two years, but I doubt it will be up to snuff. It will be plain to see that I am rusty at writing these two and I've lost of a bit of 'the voice' I'd used in the first seven chapters. This chapter will likely be riddled with errors, because due to my sporadic writing schedule, I have yet to seek out a beta. See it as my best effort to unstick what was once stuck. As you all know the end of OOTP is very plot heavy, and due to the style of my story it is hard to not turn everything into a rehash. If you hang with me through the next few chapters, this will change.

I'm really looking forward to taking Harry and Ginny to the DoM which will be quite a diversion from the original. Also, the summer things between Harry and Ginny over the summer between fifth and sixth year will be as it was always meant to be: h. o. t. All that being said, thank you for sticking with me.

It had been gray and rainy for weeks now. Even the castle had taken on a depressing coldness since the mess in the Room of Requirements. Ginny hadn't seen much of Harry since the mass exit. Everyone in the DA were staying away from each other to deter further wrath.

What she did know about what happened the night their secret society had been revealed, she'd learned from her brothers. Harry was the only one caught, having lagged behind to make sure all of the students had made it out safely, and had been taken to Dumbledore's office by the Inquisitorial Squad and questioned. All anyone knew beyond those details was that it was the sour Marietta Edgecombe who had ratted everyone out, and somehow Dumbledore had taken the fall.

Now Dumbledore had vanished and Umbridge herself had taken over the role of Headmaster. Life at Hogwarts was becoming increasingly miserable. The twins were even more restless than ever, and Ginny couldn't help but agree with them as they questioned whether Hogwarts without Dumbledore was worth the effort. The only positive thing about the chaos that followed after the DA's infiltration was that Harry had not sought her out to finish their conversation. After realizing what she'd been about to say to him in the alcove, what she'd about to do… she was only too glad Dobby had interrupted at that moment.

It was over a week later before she encountered Harry again. Ginny was heading to supper and about to round the corner when the sound of two people arguing slowed her pace.

'Yeah, well." She heard Harry say moodily, and wondered who he would be talking to this way.

'She's a lovely person really,' came the defensive voice of Cho Chang. Ginny felt her whole body tense up and quickly turned back towards the stairs, not interested in overhearing a lover's quarrel. It was obvious they were talking about the sneak, Marietta Edgecombe. Rumor had it, Madame Pomfrey still couldn't do a thing about the pimples on her forehead. Served her right. ''She just made a mistake -'

Just as Ginny reached the staircase, the blasted things swung away, leaving the redhead trapped in the corridor. Desperate to avoid the pair, she pressed herself against the wall of the alcove, hoping they would pass her without notice.

'A lovely person who made a mistake? She sold us all out, including you!' Harry argued, his voice louder and closer.

'Well . . . we all got away, didn't we?' said Cho pleadingly. 'You know, her mum works for the Ministry, it's really difficult for her - '

'Ron's dad works for the Ministry too!' Harry argued furiously. 'And in case you hadn't noticed, he hasn't got sneak written across his face - '

From her makeshift hiding spot, Ginny couldn't help but smile proudly.

"That was a really horrible trick of Hermione Granger's,' said Cho fiercely. 'She should have told us she'd jinxed that list - '

'I think it was a brilliant idea,' said Harry coldly.

'Oh yes, I forgot - of course, if it was darling Hermione's idea - '

'Don't start crying again,' said Harry warningly.

'I wasn't going to!' Cho shouted. 'I shouldn't be surprised. Maybe if I had brown bushy hair you'd actually listen to me!' Ginny realized their voices were not moving further down the hall, but rather getting closer. Ginny's heart rate picked up. Thankfully the stairs moved back into place at that moment, and she decided to make a run for it. "Or better yet, if I really wanted your attention all I'd need is long red hair and big pouty lips -"

'Leave her out of this,' came Harry's stern reply.

Ginny halted, startled at the turn their argument had taken. Was Cho talking about her?

It was then that something hard ran into her, sending her a few uneven steps back. She caught her balance and looked up. It was Harry with a very angry Cho Chang following after him. The two stared at the redhead, one with a mixture of shock and regret, the other red-cheeked and shooting daggers.

'Oh, of course she's here!' snapped Cho, and with that she turned on her heel and left the pair alone in the corridor. Ginny was frozen in mortification.

"D'you hear all of that?" asked Harry, apprehensively.

'Yeah, but I didn't mean to," she explained quickly, feeling her cheeks flame. 'I tried to go the other way, but then the stairs moved, and you just kept coming, and..." she trailed off with a hopeless gesture.

Harry was watching her carefully. "I'm sorry about all that," he apologized earnestly, although despite the closing of his lips, it seemed that he wanted to say something more. His gaze quickly flicked in the directions of the dungeons then back. His mouth opening then closing again, all the while keeping a studying eye on her. She watched his jaw tick in obvious discomfort.

Ginny just wanted to get out of there. She felt extremely uncomfortable under Harry's probing gaze, and more than that, she suddenly she felt unsure and awkward of herself. Her red hair was a wild mess from the wind, having walked back from Herbology, and her features suddenly felt large and garish. In that moment, she suddenly understood why her roommates wanted to spend hours in front of their mirrors glamouring their features.

"I've got to go meet with Snape," he told her, his tone apologetic.

"Okay," she answered with a nod, her eyes on the floor. Not wanting to bring attention to her face.

From her lowered gaze, she noticed his feet bob in place, as if he couldn't quite make himself take the first step towards the dungeons.

"Stop that," he said, suddenly in front of her, taking her hand and pulling it away from her mouth. Ginny hadn't realized she was doing it, but she'd been running her finger over her lips as if to feel whether they were large like Cho Chang had said. Startled, she looked up into Harry's green eyes. But he wasn't looking back at her, rather he was staring at her mouth."Don't listen to Cho," he said, his voice lower than usual, "Ginny, your lips. . ." Ginny heard her breath hitch as he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. "Your lips are perfect," he finished, and with that he let go of her and disappeared down the dungeon stairs.

...

Harry felt as though the memory of it was eating him from inside. He had been so sure his parents were wonderful people that he had never had the slightest difficulty in disbelieving the aspersions Snape cast on his father's character. Hadn't people like Hagrid and Sirius told Harry how wonderful his father had been? (Yeah, well, look what Sirius was like himself, said a nagging voice inside Harry's head.. he was as bad, wasn't he?) Yes, he had once overheard Professor McGonagall saying that his father and Sirius had been troublemakers at school, but she had described them as forerunners of the Weasley twins, and Harry could not imagine Fred and George dangling someone upside-down for the fun of it... not unless they really loathed them... perhaps Malfoy or somebody who really deserved it.

Harry kept reminding himself that Lily had intervened; his mother had been decent. Yet, the memory of the look on her face as she had shouted at James disturbed him quite as much as anything else; she had clearly loathed James, and Harry simply could not understand how they could have ended up married. Once or twice he even wondered whether James had forced her into it . . .

What if his mother had been given no choice, just like Ginny had no choice but to eventually marry him? Harry thought he might be sick. Ginny had been cross with him. She still was, but he couldn't remember a time when she'd looked at him like his mother had looked at his father in the memory. Harry wondered when he would push his luck far enough to earn such hatred. Ginny's words outside the Room of Requirement kept playing on loop in his head. She had every right to be angry. He'd been so focused on how the whole situation was affecting him, he had barely put thought to how it might have been affecting her. The thought pulled Harry's already foul mood lower, adding a sense of self-loathing that he hadn't felt in a long time.

All of their tense exchanges, their heady contact, had left him itching for some release. Arguing with her had been almost addictive; fuel to a fire that had been burning within him for some time now. He'd thrilled in the way her brown eyes had sparked at him, how she hadn't been afraid to put him in his place. Her paired patronus had left him stunned and if he was being honest with himself, a bit smug.

It was finally hearing how she felt had that had rendered him defenseless against her. Merlin, he would have done anything in that moment to make her feel better. Everything in him was telling him to protect her, to keep her safe, to pull her closer. If Dobby hadn't interrupted them he might have even… Well, the same thing he'd almost done in the corridor after his fight with Cho Chang.

Maybe he was just as bad as his father.

For nearly five years the thought of his father had been a source of comfort, of inspiration. Whenever someone had told him he was like James, he had glowed with pride inside. And now... now he felt cold and miserable at the thought of him.

...

The weather grew breezier, brighter and warmer as the Easter holidays passed, but Harry, along with the rest of the fifth- and seventh-years, was trapped inside, revising, traipsing back and forth to the library. Harry pretended his bad mood had no other cause but the approaching exams, and as his fellow Gryffindors were sick of studying themselves, his excuse went unchallenged. The vise around his chest just seemed to keep tightening. Typically when he felt this way he would go for a long flight on his broom. But having been banned from flying and the grueling study schedule, Harry found no relief.

'Harry, I'm talking to you, can you hear me?'

"Huh?"

He looked round. Ginny Weasley, looking very windswept, had joined him at the library table where he had been sitting alone. It was late on Sunday evening: Hermione had gone back to Gryffindor Tower to revise Ancient Runes, and Ron had Quidditch practice.

"Oh, hi," said Harry, pulling his books towards him. His heart starting to skitter in his chest at her presence. He hadn't been able to bring himself to talk to her after their awkward encounter before his last Occlumency lesson, not wanting to confirm that he was as bad as his father apparently was. "How come you're not at practice?"

"It's over," said Ginny. "Ron had to take Jack Sloper up to the hospital wing."

"Why?"

"Well, we're not sure, but we think he knocked himself out with his own bat." She sighed heavily. "Anyway . . . a package just arrived, it's only just got through Umbridge's new screening process."

She hoisted a box wrapped in brown paper onto the table; it had clearly been unwrapped and carelessly re-wrapped. There was a scribbled note across it in red ink, reading: Inspected and Passed by the Hogwarts High Inquisitor.

"It's Easter eggs from Mum," said Ginny. "There's one for you . . . there you go."

She handed him a handsome chocolate egg decorated with small, iced Snitches and, according to the packaging, containing a bag of Fizzing Whizzbees. Harry looked at it for a moment, then, to his horror, felt a lump rise in his throat.

"Are you OK, Harry?" Ginny asked quietly, taking a step toward the seated boy.

"Would you just. . ." Harry started, feeling desperate for something. What that something was, he didn't know. Reaching out, he grabbed Ginny's hand. "Would you just sit with me - for a minute?" he asked, surprised at the edge of desperation in his voice. The lump in his throat was painful. He did not understand why an Easter egg should make him feel like this.

He risked a glance to Ginny's face. She seemed apprehensive, however as their eyes met, she seemed to soften. "Okay," she answered with a gentle nod. Harry reluctantly let go of her hand as she moved to take the seat next to him. For the first time in weeks he felt a small weight lifting from his chest.

Ginny sat sideways, facing him, and Harry couldn't keep himself from draping an arm over the back of her chair. Needing to be closer to her. Desperate for some relief, knowing that proximity to her always helped somehow.

The redhead seemed to note his territorial position, but if it bothered her, she said nothing about it. "You seem really down lately. What's going on?'' Ginny questioned, with far more gentility than Harry thought he deserved.

The dark-haired boy dropped his head to rest in his other hand that was propped up on the table. "It's just...' he started reluctantly. Unsure where to begin. Unsure what to burden her with. Hadn't he burdened her enough?

With a sigh, he settled on, "I feel really alone."

He sat tensely, his eyes avoiding the redhead at all costs. Harry immediately regretted having opened up to anyone. He'd never felt so unsure of who he was, what he came from. It had been the one thing that had given him confidence, being the son of James Potter and Lily Evans. Now he felt that he had no sure footing.

Harry didn't realize he had been holding his breath, waiting for her response until Ginny finally answered, "You know, I'm sure if you just talked to Cho…"

"It's not Cho I want to talk to," said Harry confused, finally turning his gaze away from the table to look at the girl sitting next to him.

"Who is it, then?" asked Ginny, watching him closely.

"I…"

He glanced around to make quite sure nobody was listening. Madam Pince was several shelves away, stamping out a pile of books for a frantic-looking Hannah Abbott.

Scooting closer, he whispered, "I wish I could talk to Sirius. But I know I can't."

A look of understanding, and if Harry wasn't mistaken, relief, came over Ginny's pretty features. More to give himself something to do than because he really wanted any, Harry unwrapped his Easter egg, broke off a large bit and put it into his mouth.

"Well," said Ginny finally, helping herself to a bit of egg, too, "if you really want to talk to Sirius, I expect we could think of a way to do it."

"Come on," said Harry dully, although relieved that her response held none of the bite that their previous interactions had, "With Umbridge policing the fires and reading all our mail?"

"The thing about growing up with Fred and George," said Ginny, grabbing his attention by taking the piece of chocolate that he'd been reaching for, "is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve." She punctuated her statement by taking a large bite of the chocolate egg, and raising a challenging brow.

Harry looked at her. Perhaps it was the fact that she was giving him one of her conspiratorial grins, or the the effect of the chocolate, - Lupin had always advised eating some after encounters with Dementors -, or maybe it was that he had finally spoken out part of what had been burdening him for the past few weeks, but he felt a bit more hopeful.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!"

"Oh damn," whispered Ginny, jumping to her feet. "I forgot - "

Madam Pince was swooping down on them, her shriveled face contorted with rage.

"Chocolate in the library!" she screamed. "Out - out - OUT!" And whipping out her wand, she caused Harry's books, bag and ink bottle to chase him and Ginny from the library, whacking them repeatedly over the head as they ran.

It wasn't until they reached an empty corridor did Harry's school supplies finally fall, lifeless, to the floor. The pair stopped their retreat to pick up the now inanimate objects. "You alright?" asked Harry as they spread out to collect random work assignments, old quills, and scattered text books.

He was surprised to hear Ginny laughing, "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just that that was the best dodging practice I've had since I joined the Quidditch team. Have we considered Pince for Beater?"

Harry was even more surprised to feel a smile forming on his face. He looked up from his task of gathering his loose quills to watch Ginny chuckle to herself. She wasn't looking at him, rather using her wand to return some spilled ink into its bottle. She looked like sunshine after a long winter to him. She had somehow single-handedly lifted his awful mood in a matter of minutes. Despite the fact that he kept upsetting her, and that this was their first civil conversation in months, here she was, helping him gather his books, laughing in the corridor; asking if he was okay; giving him hope.

Harry didn't know when he decided to do it, but in seconds he was across the corridor and had pulled Ginny into his arms, her feet coming off the floor at the force.

"Harry," she gasped, obviously surprised by their sudden embrace.

"Please don't hate me, Ginny," he whispered thickly into her hair, his hold on her tightening at his plea. He couldn't bear it if she hated him; if she ever looked at him the way his mother had looked at his father in the memory.

"Oh, Harry..." she let out on a deep exhale, and Harry didn't know if he'd ever felt anything so wonderful, as Ginny suddenly becoming pliant in his arms. All the tension in her body seemed to melt away, as her head came to rest on his shoulder. Her hand moved from the back of his neck to thread through his hair. He thought it was the most comforting sensation he'd ever experienced. But it was nothing compared to the moment, when she answered him softly, by saying, "... I could never hate you."

"You have every reason to. I've been such a prat since Christmas holiday. I'm sorry," he apologized desperately, the words he knew he needed to say finally escaping his lips. Ginny's only response was to hug him tighter, and bury her face in his neck. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, resting his cheek against her head. Allowing all the anxieties of the last few months to leave his body as he held her. "And you know, I do,' he added, happy to finally have a chance to talk about what had happened between them outside the Room of Requirements.

Ginny raised her head to look at him curiously. Her eyes were glassy, as if she had been fighting to keep from crying. "You do what?" she asked.

"What you were saying outside the last DA meeting," he explained seriously.

Ginny's breath seemed to catch in her throat. A sound that Harry found a while ago that he liked too much. "I do care," he finished, hoping to get another similar reaction. However, her gaze turned confused again. "You said that I get everything, and I don't even: care. You were going to say care, right?" he explained.

It was then a look of understanding came to her features, and to Harry's surprise a blush to her cheeks, "Oh, yes… " she agreed quickly, starting to squirm in his arms.

Reluctantly, he let her go. Her feet hit the floor and she quickly took a few steps back. "Ginny… ?" he questioned confused, moving toward the retreating girl without realizing it. However, she mirrored every step of his with a backward step of her own, and refused to meet his eyes.

"Ginny," he repeated more firmly. She stopped moving, her gaze finally returning to his, her features guarded. "I do care about you," he told her. "I care about you quite a lot." Harry watched as her features started to soften. However at her continued silence he continued, "and… you deserve better from me… and I don't deserve your forgiveness... and... I'm a git?"

The last addition earned him a reluctant chuckle from the redhead. "Yes, you are," she finally answered, a warm smile finally reappearing to her pink lips.

"I am sorry," he told her, as they took a step toward each other.

"Ok, stop, stop, stop," Ginny insisted with a wave of her arms. "You've apologized enough."

"Fine, it's just that I am really sor-"

"Enough!" interrupted Ginny with an exasperated laugh, slapping her hand over the tall boy's mouth. "I get it, you're sorry. You care about me. You're a total arse."

"Yeah, yeah, all that."

The tension that seemed to have been building between them over the past few months finally dissipated. Leaving the pair standing together in the corridor with relieved smiles on their faces.

"So," started Ginny, returning to her previous task of gathering Harry's spilled school supplies. Harry eyed her carefully, noting the facetious tone in her voice. "I have perfect lips?" she teased, with a suggestive bob of her eyebrows.

Now it was Harry's turn for his cheeks to go red, "Oh Merlin," he groaned, rubbing an embarrassed hand over his eyes. "Yes," he finally admitted, begrudgingly. "You do. I know it. Michael bloody Corner knows it, and now you do too."

...

"Sirius?"

The man jumped and looked around. It was not Sirius, but Lupin.

"Harry!" he said, looking thoroughly shocked. "What are you - what's happened, is everything alright?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "I just wondered - I mean, I just fancied a - a chat with Sirius."

"I'll call him," said Lupin, getting to his feet, still looking perplexed, "he went upstairs to look for Kreacher, he seems to be hiding in the attic again . . ."

And Harry saw Lupin hurry out of the kitchen. Now he was left with nothing to look at but the chair and table legs. He wondered why Sirius had never mentioned how very uncomfortable it was to speak out of the fire; his knees were already objecting painfully to their prolonged contact with Umbridge's hard stone floor.

Lupin returned with Sirius at his heels moments later.

"What is it?" said Sirius urgently, sweeping his long dark hair out of his eyes and dropping to the ground in front of the fire, so that he and Harry were on a level. Lupin knelt down too, looking very concerned. "Are you all right? Do you need help?"

"No," said Harry, "it's nothing like that . . . I just wanted to talk . . . about my dad."

They exchanged a look of great surprise, but Harry did not have time to feel awkward or embarrassed; his knees were becoming sorer by the second and he guessed five minutes had already passed from the start of the diversion; George had only guaranteed him twenty. He therefore plunged immediately into the story of what he had seen in the Pensieve.

When he had finished, neither Sirius nor Lupin spoke for a moment. Then Lupin said quietly, "I wouldn't like you to judge your father on what you saw there, Harry. He was only fifteen - "

"I'm fifteen," said Harry heatedly.

"Look, Harry," said Sirius placatingly, "James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other, it was just one of those things, you can understand that, can't you? I think James was everything Snape wanted to be - he was popular, he was good at Quidditch - good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts, and James - whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry - always hated the Dark Arts."

"Yeah," said Harry, "but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because - well, just because you said you were bored," he finished, with a slightly apologetic note in his voice.

"I'm not proud of it," said Sirius quickly.

Lupin looked sideways at Sirius, then said, "Look, Harry, what you've got to understand is that your father and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did - everyone thought they were the height of cool - if they sometimes got a bit carried away - "

"If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean," said Sirius. Lupin smiled.

"He kept messing up his hair," said Harry in a pained voice.

Sirius and Lupin laughed.

"I'd forgotten he used to do that," said Sirius affectionately.

"Was he playing with the Snitch?" said Lupin eagerly.

"Yeah," said Harry, watching uncomprehendingly as Sirius and Lupin beamed reminiscently. "Well . . . I thought he was a bit of an idiot."

"Of course he was a bit of an idiot!" said Sirius bracingly, "we were all idiots! Well - not Moony so much," he said fairly, looking at Lupin.

"And," said Harry doggedly, determined to say everything that was on his mind now he was here, "he kept looking over at the girls by the lake, hoping they were watching him!"

"Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around," said Sirius, shrugging, "he couldn't stop himself showing off whenever he got near her."

"How come she married him?" Harry asked miserably. "She wasn't forced, right? She wasn't soul-bonded to him like Ginny is to me?"

Remus and Sirius shared a look before, the latter answering, "No, she wasn't Harry. Your mother loved your father very much."

"She started going out with him in seventh year," added Lupin.

"Once James had deflated his head a bit," said Sirius.

Sirius frowned at Harry, who was still looking unconvinced.

"Look," he said, "your father was the best friend I ever had and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it." After a quiet moment his dark brows furrowed and Sirius added, "Everything OK with you and Ginny?"

"It's better now," said Harry heavily. "It's just - it's all more complicated than it used to be."

Another look passed between the older men. Lupin turned back, a sympathetic smile gracing his scarred face. "I'm sure it is."

Pressing on, Harry added, "I just can't stop thinking about how my mum looked at my dad… I don't ever want Ginny to look at me that way."

"Have you and Ginny been arguing?" asked Sirius. Harry nodded, his jaw tightening at the admission.

"Well," started Sirius after a thoughtful moment, "you could always try what your father did that made Lily come round," he suggested.

Eager for any bit of advice, Harry piped up, "What's that?"

"Have you tried being her friend?"

…

Harry's trainers pounded down the stairs, his heart beating rapidly. He'd made it under his invisibility cloak in the nick of time before Filch had flung open the door, muttering about punishments, too distracted to notice anything obviously amiss. Once he'd reached the landing down from Umbridge's office, Harry thought it was safe to become visible again and pulled off the Cloak, shoving it in his bag before hurrying onwards.

He moved quickly. His steps felt lighter, he felt lighter after his chat with Sirius and Lupin. If his dad could come back from being hated by his mum, then surely Harry could make things right with Ginny.

There was a great deal of shouting and movement coming from the Entrance Hall. He ran down the marble staircase and found what looked like most of the school assembled there.

It was just like the night when Trelawney had been sacked. Students were standing all around the walls in a great ring (some of them, Harry noticed, covered in a substance that looked very like Stinksap); teachers and ghosts were also in the crowd. Prominent among the onlookers were members of the Inquisitorial Squad, who were all looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, and Peeves, who was bobbing overhead.

And just like the night when Trelawney had been sacked, there stood Ginny, at the bottom of the staircase. He pushed his way through the crowd towards her.

"What's this?" he asked, having arrived on the step behind her.

Ginny turned, her eyes wide, an incredulous look on her face. "I think Fred and George have a death wish!" she whispered to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him down a step to stand next to her. Harry's gaze followed as she pointed to her twin brothers who stood in the middle of the floor with the unmistakable look of two people who had just been cornered.

'So!' said Umbridge triumphantly. Harry realized she was standing just a few stairs up from him, once more looking down upon her prey. 'So - you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?'

'Pretty amusing, yeah,' said Fred, looking up at her without the slightest sign of fear.

Filch elbowed his way closer to Umbridge, almost crying with happiness.

'I've got the form, Headmistress,' he said hoarsely, waving the piece of parchment Harry had just seen him take from her desk. 'I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting . . . oh, let me do it now . . .'

'Very good, Argus,' she said. 'You two,' she went on, gazing down at Fred and George, 'are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school.'

'You know what?' said Fred. 'I don't think we are.'

He turned to his twin.

'George,' said Fred, 'I think we've outgrown full-time education.'

'Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself,' said George lightly.

Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?' asked Fred.

'Definitely,' said George.

And before Umbridge could say a word, they raised their wands and said together:

'Accio brooms!'

Harry heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Looking to his left, he ducked, pulling Ginny down just in time. Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor towards their owners; they turned left, streaked down the stairs and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.

'We won't be seeing you,' Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

'Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch,' said George, mounting his own.

Fred looked around at the assembled students, at the silent, watchful crowd.

'If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley - Weasley' Wizarding Wheezes,' he said in a loud voice. 'Our new premises!'

'Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat,' added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.

'STOP THEM!' shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

'Give her hell from us, Peeves.'

And Peeves, who Harry had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.

Completely shocked, Harry turned to Ginny, who was wearing her own half amused - half disbelieving expression. "What just happened? Did you know…?" Ginny only responding with a flabbergasted shake of her head.

Umbridge's shrieks echoed through the hall. "Come on," Harry prodded, "let's get out of here before she starts lynching students." They moved up the side of the stairs, away from the now-marshy entrance hall.

As the stand-in headmaster's protests grew louder the pair took off running, stopping only once they reached the safety of the empty Gryffindor common room. Harry had never seen the common room empty on a weekday evening, a testament to the magnitude to what just to place.

"I can't believe it!" exclaimed Ginny, collapsing back on the window seat, overlooking the Black Lake. "Mum's going to go mental!"

"You really had no idea?" asked Harry, dropping down on the opposite side, his breathing still a bit heavy from their sprint.

Ginny just shook her head, "No. I mean, they seemed really pleased with themselves, but wouldn't let me in on the details."

They talked for quite some time about the spectacle that had just taken place downstairs, laughing and speculating about what Fred and George would do next, wincing at the hiding they were likely to get from their parents. More and more students filed into the common room. The Twin's exit the only topic being discussed.

"I never asked," Ginny suddenly interrupted herself, "Did you get to talk to -" she cut herself off, scooting closer to Harry and lowering her voice. "Did it work?"

"Oh, yeah," smiled Harry, appreciating the heaviness that had lifted from him since his fire chat. "I talked to, uh, Fluffy. Lupin was there." He added.

Ginny nodded. "Good. And you're feeling better?"

"Yeah, loads. It was…" In the shock of had happened after he'd left Umbridge's office, he'd hadn't had time to process the conversation with his god-father and Lupin. Harry felt suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude toward the girl sitting next to him. A bit more emotionally than he intended, he told her, "It was exactly what I needed. I can't thank you enough for helping me."

Ginny smiled sweetly, and tactfully turned her gaze toward the window, allowing Harry a moment to compose himself again. "Hey, what are friends for?" she responded, knocking her shoulder playfully against his.

He looked down at the girl seated next to him. Her light brown eyes were gentle, and her pink lips upturned in a smile just for him. Godric, he'd been such a fool. "I don't deserve your friendship," he told her truthfully.

"Harry." she admonished. "You've already apologized."

"No, I want to do better," he argued.

She sighed at his stubbornness. "How about we both try to do better?" she bargained, extending a hand.

A reluctant grin crept onto his face and he took her offered hand.

"Deal."

AN: La la la, there it is. I was obsessed with the idea that Harry and Ginny wouldn't really 'make up' until they chatted in the library. My heart was set on it and for better or for worse I could not be moved. PLEASE let me hear from you. I could really benefit from the feedback. I want to know your likes and your dislikes. Feel free to lay into me for my absence.

Like I said, I'm really out of practice. Which I want to remedy! I really miss writing these two, and more than that I miss writing these two well. I need practice and could use some inspiration. I'm going to start another fic strictly for Hinny prompts from you the readers. Send me a prompt and I'll do my best to write a ficlet/one-shot based on it. I've already started working on the first one: Ginny twisting her ankle at Quidditch practice and Harry having to carry her up to the hospital wing. You can leave your idea in the comments or PM me.