A breeze ruffled the hairs of students as they rushed from their end-of-year classes excluding the fifth and seventh years that had just finished their last theoretical exam, and were now worrying over the last practical that would be held after lunch. The warm June breeze made it impossible not to enjoy the day even if there were exams. To one student, a fifth year with no exams, heading away from the Great Hall and its inviting lunch the wind blew cold. The very air around him sent friends and foes alike running for a warmer, sunnier spot, for no sun could be found with this student.

To him there was no color, no meaning, no purpose to the world around him, just a long, dreadful, repetitive cycle. Everything he did was forced and planned for him; not what he wanted to do but what he had to do. His life was planned for him since birth. Fate and destiny were cruel and harsh, giving him a life of pain and suffering; a life where he was responsible for the welfare of the entire English nation.

"For neither can live while the other survives," that stupid prophecy kept him awake all night, killed his godfather, and destroyed any chance of a normal childhood. And behind that prophecy was the man who allowed it, who had kept it secret, who albeit unknowingly allowed Voldemort the perfect opportunity to trap him, not once but four times within halls that were supposedly safer than even Gringotts. Honestly, how could the most powerful wizard of the age miss that his defense professor has a semi-dead mass murdering psychopath on the back of his head? Or that his second defense professor was too stupid to tell one end of a wand from the other? If he knew everything going on in the school should he not know that a dead man was roaming the halls as a rat? And should he not realize one of his oldest friends is not his oldest friend? It was this man the disillusioned student, Harry Potter the wizarding worlds savior, was going to meet.

At one point Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster and secret keeper extraordinaire was a trusted friend and guardian. He had looked up to the man thought of him as a grandfather. Now however, he knew him to be nothing more than a lying manipulative old man. He had ignored the things going on in the school that could have killed Harry and his friends and for what purpose, a test? Madame Pomphrey had seen the residual marks left from the beatings Harry's uncle had given him, therefore the headmaster knew. He overlooked it for the "greater good". Harry was safe from Voldemort with his relatives, too bad he was not safe from his relatives. Dumbledore knew the prophecy and could have prepared him to face Voldemort but instead he let him get beaten and nearly killed by both Voldemort and his relatives. If anything he had given him the perfect opportunity to be molded into the same muggle hating person Voldemort had become.

Harry growled the password to the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office and ascended the twisting staircase. With a quick, sharp knock Harry entered the office.

"Harry my boy. I am so glad you could meet with me." Dumbledore smiled, inviting Harry to sit. "Would you care for a lemon drop?" How Harry longed to wipe that smile off the old man's face.

"No thank you, sir." Harry replied, distain dripping off of every word. "I prefer to stand. Is there something you wanted?"

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes faded slightly at the cold tone. "Alright then, first I wanted to ask that you not discuss the prophecy outside this room, including Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. It would be disastrous if he found out. I was not able to ask you last time as you intent on destroying my office."

Harry felt a twinge of embarrassment at his behavior almost a week ago but there was no guilt, only frustration that Dumbledore did even seem the least bothered. And honestly what did it matter if he told his supposed best mates?

"And Sirius asked me to give you this," the headmaster said, interrupting Harry's thoughts. Dumbledore handed him a rather thick stack of parchment, neatly folded and sealed with two crests. One Harry recognized as the remade Black family crest. It was shaped like a knight's shield, with an unsheathed sword driven down the length of the shield. On both sides of the blade sat a grim, pitch black against the white background, with pale stars on its forehead. Behind the blade in smoky grays were four figures; a stag, its head held high with a tiger beside it, a werewolf and a small bird. Underneath it read toujours pur, the only party Sirius had kept from the original family crest, although not in reference to bloodlines. The other showed two crossed swords over top of a black and green dragon, its mouth open, ready to attack, under a banner that read coraxe medo produto. Despite his anger at the headmaster, Harry asked about the unknown crest.

"It is your family crest. The saying is in Gaelic and means fear proceeds courage. I do not know why your ancestors picked a dragon. I suppose it is a symbol of your family's courage and desire to protect and defend."

"Thank you sir, is that all?" Harry asked desperately wanting to leave. He would not cry in front of another person. He would not show any weakness.

Dumbledore hid a smirk; the boy had not left his control completely. He would regain his trust, draw him in by sharing some small family tidbits, and then begin planning the war again. After all no one else could possibly be capable of planning a war to bring down Voldemort. "I am attempting to make arrangements for you to stay with the Weasleys; however it may not be possible this summer. I will try my best." A summer with the muggles should rein him in nicely.

"That's all I ask, I'll take my leave now." Dumbledore was overjoyed that his plan was back on track after that slight diversion so much so that he failed to notice the hard edge to Harry's voice or the mistrusting look in his eyes.

"Lunch is about to begin, I'll walk with you." Dumbledore offered, as Harry made to leave the office. Only years of self-control learned the hard way from the Dursleys kept Harry from lashing out at Dumbledore. Instead he followed quietly to the great hall.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, lost in his thoughts, Harry stabbed at the food on his plate as though it had offered some personal affront. The few bites he had taken were reminiscent of cardboard. Talking with Dumbledore had brought the memory of Sirius death to the forefront of his mind. He could hear the laughing screech of Bellatrix, the taunting look on her face. He could feel Remus' arms around him holding him back, the whispered, rehearsed sounding words of comfort. He missed the concerned looks as he shook himself out of the memories choosing to focus on the papers in front of him.

Harry opened the package given to him by the headmaster to find several letters, a couple which were from Gringotts and a family tree. He unfolded the tree and then refolded it so that he could see his parents' name. Next to his father's name was another line, James' sister Arianna. Harry's mouth dropped, he had another aunt. It was then he noted that she also had a birth and death date, January 12, 1979. He had only read a few lines of it before he became irritated as he felt the headmaster's eyes following his every movement. Now he was not even permitted to go read Sirius' last letter in peace. Granted he probably should attempt to read it outside the great hall but then he would still be watched.

Harry let out an irritated sigh as he felt Hermione try to see what he was reading. He shot a glare at his supposed best friends causing Hermione to flinch before hiding behind her book. Ron shifted slightly, pretending nothing was happening.

They had been watching him all year reporting to Dumbledore ever move he made. Hermione had been looking at him with pity, trying to get him to talk to her about Cedric, Voldemort and the 'grief' he was going through. She had read him the riot act on the stages of grief and constantly reminded him how the books said he was supposed to deal with the pain and guilt he felt following Cedric's death.

Ron on the other hand was walking on eggshells; more so since the debacle at the ministry. He kept people from bring up certain subjects, especially the one's revolving around Cedric and Cho. Their conversations had become awkward silences neither knowing what to say. It had gotten a bit better when they started the DA, and Ron and Hermione had begun to back off but had returned to awkward in the past week.

Engrossed in his thoughts, he never noticed the brown eyes that never left him. His anger rose as he thought about the past five years. It all just seemed set up in some weird twist of fate. Slamming down his fork, Harry stormed from the table never noticing the second shadow. Almost out of the great hall a shadow crossed in front of his path."What's the matter Potter? Going to kill someone else?" In a flash, Harry had Draco pinned against the wall, his green eyes flashing dangerously.

"I wouldn't push your luck Malfoy," snapped Potter. "Now you want to know what my problem is, Bella, Cissa, and Lucy, everyone in your family except for Andy, Ted and Tonks. Now unless you want to die, I suggest you take a lesson from them, Draco. I'd hate to kill my cousin." The last part was said only for Draco's ears.

"I'm your cousin?"Asked Draco as his face lost the little color it had. That was impossible, no Malfoy had ever married a Potter and none ever would. The mere thought of it sent shivers up his spine. He told Harry so, surprised when the younger male laughed harshly.

"No one said it was through marriage to a Malfoy. My aunt, Arianna Potter had a daughter by Sirius Black, your second cousin. We're third cousins once removed. Their daughter serves as a link." Harry's cold eyes bore into Draco's wide gray eyes. "Despite the distance, you are family, and those who act like family are protected. Now your father, I will not claim as family nor will our cousin. Think about it. Choose your side carefully."

"Mr. Potter, release Mr. Malfoy now," Commanded Dumbledore, over Snape's cries of expulsion. Harry dropped him unceremoniously and turned towards the teachers.

"What a marvelous idea Professor Snape. Maybe Hogwarts will be one student short next year. I hear Durmstrang has wonderful programs." Snape stopped short, grimacing. The idea of a Potter agreeing with him was quite disturbing.

Harry shot Draco a meaningful look before leaving the great hall.

Two bright eyes gleamed from the shadows, as they followed Harry up several flights of stairs, thankful that he was not heading towards the astronomy tower. His mood was dangerous right now and the shadow did not want him near any sort of ledge. Hiding behind a tapestry, she watched him pace back and force pulling into existence the Room of Requirements. She sprang forward as he entered; the door shutting just before she reached it. She pulled and twisted on the handle but it did not budge. "Damn him! Only he would remember to lock it. I need to get in this bloody room right bloody now!" She screeched, kicking the door for good measure.

Entering the room Harry let a scream tear from his lungs, ripping its way out his throat. Collapsing into a chair the room had conjured, Harry pulled out the stack of parchment, separating it into piles. The letters, one from his parents, one from his aunt, one from Lupin and one from Sirius, were placed in one pile. The family tree and the letters from Gringotts went into the second pile. Harry decided to read Remus' letter first. Opening it he saw the neat and somewhat familiar scrawl of his father's best friend.

Harry,

I know I haven't been around much and I apologize; it is rather hard at times as you remind me so much of your parents. I've let you down. I should have been there. I know I'm not Sirius but you are more than welcome to stay with me. Unfortunately I do not know much about that night as your parents felt I was susceptible to the dark as a werewolf. I do know however that Dumbledore is overstepping his boundaries. I will help you however I am able. You are my cub and I should not have forgotten that.

Many apologies,

Your uncle, Remus 'Mooney' Lupin.

P.S. No more professor; its Mooney or Remus.

Harry smiled slightly as he folded the letter up, gently tucking it back into its envelope, a small bubble of hope building, filling him with warmth. At least he would have one definite ally. There was hope, he had family. There were people who cared for him. It had been stupid and selfish to think he was the only one suffering. Remus had just regained his brother only to lose him again. In a slightly better mood he picked up the letter from his parents. An idea started forming somewhere else to go…

Dear Harry,

If you are reading this letter I hope that you have grown up loved and blessed. I am sorry I could not be with you my son. Do not cry for me but live. It gives me great joy knowing you are alive. By now hopefully Sirius has filled you in on the prophecy. You will survive, after all you are a Potter and an Evans; your stubbornness alone will keep you alive. If you are anything like your father, who unfortunately you do seem to take after- That's a good thing! - James but out! This is my letter to Harry! Like I was saying if you are like your father you will attempt to go at it alone. You cannot win alone. Do not let this defeat you my son, live and most importantly love. It is those we love who guide us and provide our strength. Without them you will be empty and cold and will not survive. Let the sun into your life son, because even on the darkest of days it shines. In the manor in England I have placed a special charm, it will allow you time to train. Use it wisely and trust only those nearest to your heart. Time is a valuable thing; in the wrong hands it can be deadly. Learn from our mistakes but most importantly train and grow well my son and remember love with all your heart; listen to it always, for it will never fail you. I will love you always. Nowhere will you find a mother more proud of her son then I am of you. May I write now?If you must.

Right, if you haven't guessed yet it's your father. Now that you mother has gotten all the sappy stuff out of the way- Owe! Lily what you smack me for! - We can get to the important things. Laughter in dark times can be a strong medicine. Keep the marauders alive and keep everyone's spirits up. Your mother is right-Aren't I always? - find you partner and don't let her go. And remember the Potter blessing [or curse according to Sirius]-It's always a red head. But most importantly play lots of quidditch and prank Severus a few times for me. Don't let life or Moldyshorts drag you down. Oh and Dumbles should have given you the port key that will take you to Potter manor. If he didn't give you anything when you turn twelve, go to the goblins and ask to be taken to the family vault. The port key should be in the vault. Be polite to the goblins and you'll find that they'll flaunt the rules enough to allow you to access your inheritance in an emergency. Okay, quick sappy moment. I love you my Prongslet. Don't let your uncles blame themselves too much, remind them that I died for my family, that includes them, so they better make the most of it or I will haunt them! See you when you get here- but it better not be soon; wife, kids, grandkids, and then you are allowed to join us- we'll be watching over you.

We love you,

Mum and Dad

p.s. I left a note for Severus and one for Petunia in the vault. Give them the letters please. Tell Severus I am sorry. Make sure Petunia leaves that whale of a husband. I probably shouldn't mention it- I am adding this after your mother has gone to sleep- but Vernon is abusive. Petunia is a decent person just misguided and bitter, she deserves better.

Harry could almost see his parents' playful banter, sort of like Ron and Hermione. Tears flowed freely down his checks as he returned the letter to its envelope. He would check with Mione on how to preserve the letters. Disappointment clutched his heart; if she and Ron stopped listening to Dumbledore he could include them, otherwise… The plan was starting to take shape. He would need to go to Gringotts and a quick stop at the Dursleys. Harry could feel his burden lightening as though his parents were there helping. He would live; he had to. For his parents, for Sirius, for himself- a strange and foreign concept- he would take back his life. He debated a moment between Arianna and Sirius' letters before picking up Arianna's letter.

My dear nephew,

Your first birthday passed yesterday and I am sad to say I was not present. Nor was I present at your birth. I only know of you through rumors; never once was I able to hold you. In a moment of cowardice I fled, leaving you father believing I was dead. Sirius believes so too and I can only hope he will not looking for me. I fled pregnant with his daughter; a fact I was too scared to reveal to your father or Sirius. I pray to return to the family when the war is over but if I cannot I pray you meet your cousin and you take care of each other. I named her Hermione after one of your uncle's favorite Shakespearean characters. She will turn two this September which is a month and 14 days after your first birthday. I pray you do not think badly of me. Just know you have family who loves you even when you don't know it. Both of you should have received a similar letter on your eleventh birthday; hopeful Hermione will attend school with you. Do not let the prophecy make you feel alone. Your family will be with you even after death has taken us from you.

I hope to be able to meet you, my darling nephew,

Arianna S. Potter

P.S. Always be nice to goblins. It is what allowed mean to leave this note in the vault.

That at least explained why Sirius never said anything. He was just as in the dark as everyone else. While angry with his aunt he could understand her need to run. She did what she thought was right to protect her family. The only question was why was Hermione adopted and where was Arianna? The death date on the tree had been January 12, 1979; around the time she would have discovered she was pregnant. She must have faked her death and ran. Harry's hands shook as he reached for the last letter.

Outside she continued to pace back and force. "I need this door to open right now." It hadn't so much as budged in the last half an hour but she didn't quit. "They always said we Weasleys were too stubborn for our own good. I'll just wait until the castle gets tired or he comes out." Ginny was just thankful that she had time to wait for she had been released from exams along with Luna for her part in the DoM mess.

As she passed the door for the millionth time, a voice echoed through her very bones. It was light and feminine but had a hardness to it that reminded her of the ancient female warriors. "Ginerva," It called once more.

"Um, yes, Can I help you?" asked Ginny, feeling ridiculous for speaking to an empty corridor when she was not ranting to herself.

"Do not be embarrassed my daughter. You do not have to speak aloud if that is not your wish."

Again her bones rocked with the power in the voice. "Hogwarts?" she asked nervously. "Can you hear our thoughts?"

"On occasion I am allowed to do so. However I do keep an eye on all my children. I'm sorry for the sorrows you have faced with in my walls, daughter but you were to learn the lessons needed, and you have done quite well. You know when to push and when not to now, and you can relate more to him than any on the face of the earth. You will be his strength, his light through the dark. Help him. Find the moon intertwined with a plant, the book that fights the broom, and a demon whose bloodline flows through an angel. They will protect the light. I give my blessings my daughter. And remember forgiveness is a hard but healing event and looks are not always what they are." The door opened; the sound echoing down the silent corridor.

"Thank you so much, my mother. I accept your blessing with upmost appreciation. May my wonderings please you," Responded Ginny aloud. She did not know where the words came from but they seemed appropriate, almost required. Carefully opening the door she slipped inside, Hogwarts' words ringing through her head. Her brown eyes filled with worry as she took in her surroundings.

The room was well lit but it felt dark and suffocating. In the center of the room, surrounded by broken furniture was Harry Potter, crying. "What the hell is wrong with me? Why can't I do anything right?" He screamed another wave of magic ripping through the room. Ginny flinched expecting it to hit her, but it hit a wall of blue light. "You are safe my daughter, I am containing his magic, fear not to approach him."

Still she remained frozen to the spot. The power coming off of him was incredible, rippling off of his body and colliding with the blue shield. Another wave hit the shield as he screamed again. "I can't save my godfather, I bloody well killed him, I can't confront Mione and Ron, and I can't even tell Ginny l I like her."

In the corner there was a small gasp. He fancied her!

"What does it matter?" he muttered bitterly to himself, at least so he thought. "She's over me anyway."

NO, he can't think that I got to tell him otherwise. What do I do? Ginerva thought frantically. A small shove pushed her forward. "Alright mother, I get it," Ginny told the castle with a small laugh. It was Harry; there was absolutely no need to freak.

She stepped into the light, her shoes tapping gently on the hard floor. His head snapped in the direction of the sound, his green eyes freezing her once more. There was so much reflected in his eyes, the dark depths swirling with pain and sorrow and love. Ginny felt her heart stop as he gazed at her with such power; such longing.

"Ginny, how long have you been there?" Harry asked his rough voice filled with emotion.

"I have only been here a moment. Are you alright Harry?" Hogwarts' shield dropped as she placed her hand on his shoulder. A weird tingle went up her arm that did not seem to have anything to do with his fluctuating magic. "Do you want to talk? We can have some tea and biscuits," even as she spoke the room was repairing itself, becoming warmer and friendlier, removing the broken fragments of the chair Harry had occupied. A large roaring fire appeared bathing the room in light and warmth. A plush, red sofa, similar to the one in Gryffindor tower appeared in front of it. On a small coffee table between the fire and sofa sat a pot of tea with two cups as well as a plate of biscuits. "Come on the sofa is much more comfortable than the floor," Ginny told him, extending a hand to help him up. Harry allowed himself to be lead to the sofa. Ginny sat at the far end and told Harry to sit down. When he hesitated she pulled him onto the sofa next to her.

She poured two cups of teas, adding honey to both of them and a little lemon in hers. Picking up a biscuit she leaned back, waiting. They sat like that for a time; a peaceful silence surrounding them as each stared into the fireplace. Just as Ginny thought he would not say anything, he let out a strangled sob. He let all his grief pour out of him; His conversation with Dumbledore, the letters from his parents, aunt Arianna and uncle Remus. He handed her the letters allowing her to read them. Ginny held back a snort as she read Sirius' letter it was just so Sirius.

Hey Prongslet,

So I kicked it. It is not your fault. If you start blaming yourself I'll haunt you or set an angry red-head mother [aka Molly] on you. Go throw a party something completely stupid, reckless and pure teenager. I love you

Sirius- aka Padfoot- aka best-godfather-in-the-entire-bloody-world. HA! I told Remus I'd have a name with more hyphens the Voldie one day.

Harry, unaware of Ginny's struggle against laughter, continued his melodramatic rant, now pacing in front of the fireplace. "And Sirius- how can he not blame me? I killed him! If I had just used the mirror he would have been fine!"

"Harry, Sirius was doing the same thing you were; saving his family. Do you honestly think he could have lived with himself if he had not gone? If you had gotten hurt while he waited at home? No, just like you couldn't just wait at school for him." Ginny reasoned, trying to be calm.

"But I put everyone at risk over nothing!" screamed Harry as he spun to face her. "I just had to charge right in there! If I had just opened the package! If I had just listened to Mione-"

There was a resounding smack as Ginny's hand met Harry's cheek. "It was not nothing!" Ginny screamed, her temper making her small figure inconsequential. Grabbing Harry's shirt, she shoved him on to the couch, where he landed with a shocked look on his face. "Sirius meant just as much to the rest of us! He mattered to you so he mattered to us! Any of us would have done the same! Now quit moping, Sirius would want you to live just like your mother." She sat down next to him, a comforting hand on his shoulder. "And like your aunt said, they are with you even now that death has taken them. Harry, they died so you could live; don't waste the last and greatest gift they could give you. Now are we done with this pity party?"

Harry nodded his eyes wide as he observed her. Her hair was coming out of its ponytail and her eyes seemed to hold an inner fire. There was a soft glow around her making her look even more like an angel to Harry. She was the only person to ever put him in his place, when he deserved it, and somehow that made him like her that much more. Hermione would, most likely right now, be looking for books on dealing with grief and trying to fit Harry into a predesigned psychological group; Ron would act like nothing happened. He would walk on eggshells around him and trying to shield him from anything Sirius and death related just like he would do for Ginny; be the older brother and protect the younger one. Harry laughed inwardly, even though he was the "leader" he was the youngest; Ron and Hermione were really like his older brother and sister which made it worse. They should know how to help him and not spy on him for Albus. Ginny, who he barely knew, understood him better than anyone; give him time to think, let him talk when he was ready and put him in his place when he crossed the line just as she had done several times this year.

"Yeah, Gin, I'm done with my pity party." If he had been looking up, he would have seen a blush mantle her cheeks for a moment.

"Good because I wanted to ask if you can help me with something. See I like this guy," she forced herself not to laugh as she watched his head snap around with a devastated look on it. "He's a Gryffindor, he's noble and selfless, blames himself way too much for things beyond his control, is an amazing seeker, and looks quite good topless."

She swung her leg over so she was straddling Harry. The look of confusion on Harry's face almost caused her to burst out laughing.

"Gin, I..."

"He also has gorgeous eyes and messy black hair, a lightning bolt scar and is my brother's best mate." This time she did giggle as Harry's mouth dropped open. "And I was wondering if he's going to kiss me anytime soon or just gawk?"

Harry gulped. She was pressed so close now that Harry could feel every part of her anatomy pressed against him. He desperately- and vainly- hoped she didn't feel what she was doing to him. Gin hid a smile. Since when could she extract that response from Harry? She tugged his robes, pulling him up, and pressed her lips against his.

Harry was in shock. What the hell was he supposed to do? The girl of his dreams was kissing him. What now? His thoughts were jumbled in his head as he tried to get back to reality. "Kiss her back imbecile!" yelled a voice in his head that shook his bones, reminding him off a mother dragon guarding her nest.

At that point Ginny pulled back. He said he liked her but wouldn't kiss her? What the hell? As she prepared to go into a rant that only Weasley women can achieve, Harry pulled her back, pressing his lips against hers, his tongue asking for entrance. She granted it, matching his passion.

Trying to calm her rapidly beating heart Ginny lay on the sofa, Harry's arms wrapped comfortably around her midsection, her head tucked under his chin. That kiss had been nothing like Michael's, who was always too pushy, or the few pecks she had shared with Dean who was just too gentleman like. While Harry could be a lot like Dean, over protective and trying to keep her out of any danger, it was not because he was the male and she the fragile little flower that needed protection. That was just the way Harry was, always putting himself before those he cared about be it herself, Sirius, Ron or any countless number of others. Somehow, she thought as she snuggled closer to Harry, that protection probably extended to most of Slytherin.

She smiled as Harry wrapped his arms tighter around her as though he was never going to let go and somehow in her heart and mind she knew he never would, which did not bother her as she was content to stay in his arms. Harry sighed, his breath ruffling her hair, "We should go to the common room, it's almost curfew."

"Or we could just stay here," Ginny mumbled, her face turning red. "I like it when you hold me."

"Okay," Harry said pulling her closer, "I wasn't ready to let go anyways." Neither seemed to notice the light they were giving off. Ginerva gave off a pale gold glow with swirls of burgundy and red. Harry shone with a golden glow, greens and blues weaving through the gold.

As the clock struck the midnight hour a pale figure appeared beside the two sleeping children. "I am sorry but it is necessary. You cannot be parted at such a critical junction. I pray you do not suffer the burdens for that which I am about to do." The ghostly figure lifted the children's left hands, making a diagonal cut from the bottom of the pointer finger to the edge of the palm. Pressing the two cuts together she murmured in a forgotten language the words of true binding. The lights surrounding the children began to merge, slowly combining. "My blessings my children, may the spirits watch and guide you," the woman said softly before she left to find the book.

In his sleep Harry's left hand reached for Ginny's left just as hers reached for his neither showing signs of the cut. Satisfied smiles appeared on both teen's faces as their hands met.

Earlier that evening, after Harry and Ginerva left, another couple got up from the table and proceeded to the library. They were supposed to be watching Harry for Dumbledore, and they had for a while. Ron had never felt right spying on his best mate, but Hermione always listened to her professors and if Dumbledore believed it was needed than she would do it. Ron, of course, did whatever she wanted. It took about a month into the school year before her discomfort began. When she could come with no logical reason to report Harry's activities, she had dragged Ron to the library for research. Ron knew research would be pointless but if it meant spending time with her than he could pretend to look at books for hours on end.

Sitting at the table Ron couldn't help but think of how beautiful Mione looked. She looked like an angel dropped from the heavens not that he had the courage to tell her. Right now she would be biting her lip as she worked out the problem. Her eyes would scan the material frantically, with practiced ease. Those same desperate eyes would be alight with the joy of the presented challenge. Ron groaned, forcing himself to read the words in front of him, it was some text about ancient seers and prophecies. Currently he was reading a prophecy by Cassiopeia from her travels in the lowlands of Scotland and Ireland, of which only a portion was known.

…seven born from the pits of darkness, born of misguided sorrows. The earth shall be torment by its unnaturalness. One conquered by the leader through the grace of time. His life-mate… it skipped as the glyphs had become untranslatable. …vessel through which the second shall come into being, one abandoned soul finds another. A sister in… the greed of knowledge is a powerful lure… denial shall end the third…pride in one's self can be a crushing weight, dragging into the depths of darkness… so the forth shall come to destroy or be destroyed…Even among angels loyalty has its limits… a snake chooses betrayal among its own choosing the angel over… death. A process reversible and destructive but the call intoxicates… the living shall end the seventh… final blow shall mock fate. The plant shall crack the stone.

Gibberish, Ron thought to himself. Why must it always be gibberish? How the hell are you supposed to make anything out of this when it has holes this big? Grabbing a piece of parchment he scribbled out the prophecy, a gut instinct telling him it might be important. Besides, he thought a smile on his face Mione will take one glance and be able to fill in the missing lines.

Hermione's face was flushed, as she threw aside another book. Glancing at Ron she wished she could get up and snog him. She would give anything to feel his hands on her, his lips softly caressing... She blushed, slamming the book shut for a distraction from her train of thought. "There must be a reason! Why would he want us to do this? What prophecy? What are we missing?" she yelled as loudly as she could without having the wrath of Pince brought upon her.

"Mione love, calm down before you drive yourself crazy." Ron told her, never looking up from his book.

Hermione froze. Did he just... Yes he did. "Ron what did you just call me?" she asked trying to hide her excitement, but it shone through her eyes along with her love and hope.

"I called you Mione. I always call you that, love…" Ron trailed off realizing what he had just said. "S-Sorry Mione." He said jumping up to return the book.

"Ron, I love you too."

Ron's head snapped in her direction "really?"

"Really Ron, I..." whatever she was remained undiscovered as Ron pressed his lips to hers. Mione responded with equal passion. Both of them fought for dominance, neither giving an inch. Wanting more contact, Hermione grabbed his hands which had remained on her hips, and slid them up on to her breasts. Ron pulled back, stunned.

"Luv, I…" Hermione cut him off kissing him with all she had. Her hands slid under his shirt, tracing the contours of his chest. Ron moaned into her mouth, his hands seeming to finally get the idea as he gently caressed her through her shirt. His mouth left hers, only to trace its way to her collar bone. Ron undid button after button as he kissed his way to the valley between her breasts. He pushed her shirt off her shoulders, moving her bra out of the way as his mouth continued to explore. His free hand slid underneath her skirt, moving her knickers aside. Hermione's breathe was coming in short gasps as she attempted to keep from moaning loud enough to attract Madame Prince's attention. With an appreciative moan she came on his fingers. Ron pulled back drinking in her flushed face and heaving chest. "Beautiful just doesn't cover it." Hermione blushed gently, before pulling him into less visited part of the library.

"My turn," she purred, her hands on the waistband of his pants.

Down in the greenhouses Neville Longbottom was helping Luna Lovegood. Neville was putting away the equipment that they had used, when she spoke up, startling him. She had been unusually quiet, even for her.

"Thanks for helping me Neville. I understand it much better now." Luna said a blush spreading across her pale skin. Neville was about to respond when the evening light glanced off her hair, shining like diamonds. He had never really bothered with the opposite sex, other than taking Ginny Weasley to the Yule ball, but now, now he did. He wanted to be the one that made her blush, brought that beautiful smile to her face. He had never admitted to himself how beautiful she was or how endearing her quirks were.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice missing it's usually dreaminess.

Neville looked at her in confusion. For the first time that evening he realized she hadn't sounded dreamy or far away. She sounded normal.

"Is everything alright Neville? You're looking at me a bit stranger than normal." Her blue eyes were still wider than normal as she gazed at him. She still possessed the strange ability to look straight through a person, never blinking.

"Your voice changed." He explained, hoping it was the only change. He did not want to lose his Luna. Again his thoughts left him frozen; His Luna? Since when was she his? He had no right to claim her. He shook himself out of his thoughts realizing she was responding.

"It's a defense mechanism. After my mom died, I," her voice cracked, tears coming to her eyes. She turned away trying to hide her tears.

Neville laid a hand on her shoulder. "It's alright- just caught me by surprise- you don't need to explain."

"But I do. Please I need to." Guiding her over to a bench, Neville sat, boldly pulling her into his lap.

"Then tell me." He held her, not pushing, as she stumbled through her story. "It started when I was -seven. One of my mother's experiments went wrong and I was there. Daddy was away, working on a piece for the quibbler. She was scrying and the crystal exploded. The magical backlash sent her crashing into the wall, a piece of glass lodged in her chest and another in her stomach. She bled to death in my arms because she shoved me out of the way."

Wiping her tears she looked up at him. "When Dad started acting weird I followed suit. It was better than living in a world without my mother. Then I made friends with Ginny when we moved to Ottery St. Catchpole. I realized what I was doing wasn't healthy but it served as my defense. I kept my guard up constantly never letting anyone in, including Ginny to an extent; she managed to translate most of what I said. If I acted weird than nobody could or would even want to become close enough to me that I could lose someone I loved again. Over time I just got used to being the crazy girl, but I don't want to be her anymore, not around you Neville. I can be myself and I want to be myself. I'm always scared someone will get past that shield and then they'll have the power to hurt me but I trust you Neville."

"Did you know my parents were tortured into insanity?" He paused as Luna gasped, her hand covering her mouth. "That's why I live with my grandmother, why Bellatrix Lestrange is the one person I want dead besides Voldemort. It's why I have to be strong now."

"Oh, Neville," Luna's hand caressed his check, her eyes wide with sadness. "You know that's part of the reason I love you. Life dealt you a bad hand but you push through doing what you can." Blushing she continued, "I have fancied you for a while now."

There I said it. It's up to him now. I just made the biggest fool of myself. Way to go Luna. Now you'll lose one of the few friends you have. She berated herself too scared to look up; she took to examining her hand, still intertwined with Neville's hand. Hogwarts so help me you better be right. I won't survive being hurt again.

"Have faith, my daughter. I am not often wrong. Give the boy a minute; most males tend to be a little slow on the uptake, even when it is right in front of them."

"Has anyone told you that you sound like a wolf pack on the night of a full moon?" she questioned distracting herself. A tinkling laugh was all she heard.

She forced herself to meet his eyes."I understand if you don't like me I mean I've been pretending to be crazy and I am not that pretty and I …"

"Stop it right there," said Neville forcibly, his hand under her chin. "You are beautiful, fun loving girl. Besides you're still the same brutally direct Luna that I fell in love with." Leaning in he gave her the briefest of kisses. "You know my dorm mates just started a game of quidditch. They should be gone for hours. As much as I love these green house this is not the place to take one's girlfriend."

Luna giggled lightly, "Girlfriend? Well for the record I like the greenhouses, a bed is just more comfortable." She started to leave, noticing Neville was not beside her, "Are you coming or is my ass that fascinating?" After a happy make out session, Luna curled under the covers of Neville's bed, her head resting on his chest. Later that night Ron and Mione slipped into the boy's dormitory neither noticing Harry's untouched bed.

Down in the dungeons, Draco was staring at the note crumpled in his hand. Only one thought was penetrating his shock, "Why?"

"Dray," called a hoarse voice to his left, "I need to talk to you."

He spun around, meeting the gray eyes of the blond standing in the doorway. "Elle, What are you doing here?" His eyes roamed over her, taking in her appearance; her clothes were torn and dirty, drops of blood dripped from her lip onto her shirt leaving streaks of red. Her eyes were red and swollen as if she had been crying for ages. Her hands were clasped together over her stomach, holding a small duffel bag. "Baby, what's wrong? Who hurt you?" If anyone else had been present they would have been shocked at how caring Draco sounded.

"My father," she told him her voice barely a whisper, "he found out something he did not like. He hit my mother too. She made me run. I did not want to," she sobbed as Draco wrapped his arms around her. Her duffel bag fell to the floor as he hands clutched Draco's shirt. "She made me."

"It's alright baby. Calm down. How about you take a nice, hot shower? I'll find you something to wear and eat, and then we can talk." She nodded reluctantly into his shirt. "I'm not going anywhere sweetheart, you need to let go." Gently he untangled her hands from his shirt and steered her into his private bath one of the perks of being Slytherin's prefect that he most enjoyed. He grabbed his quidditch jersey and a pair of boxers, putting them on the bathroom counter for Elle.

"Dobby, can you bring up some food from dinner please?" called Draco. He was glad he had made friends with his former house elf. Dobby was nice to talk to once you became used to him. Plus it gave him some company at the manor over the summers. "Young master call for food?" Dobby asked snapping Draco out of his memories of the cold, dark hallways.

"I really wish you would drop that bloody title!" Draco groaned. Dobby simply smirked.

"Heres you go little master. But I is curious whys you is needing food?" The bathroom door opened, and Elle stepped out shyly. "Shame Draco! You is too young to be bedding girls! And to knock the poor young miss up, shame!" He turned to Elle, "Young mistress if it is in my powers to assist you I will do so." He left, after giving Draco a glare, leaving two bemused people behind. Draco patted the couch beside him, "Eat and then we'll talk." Elle sat, giving him a quick kiss before pulling the plate towards her.