MetaFic

On Friday morning, Harry awoke quickly and felt fully alert. The first thing he determined was that Ginny was still asleep and had moved very little during the night.  She lay huddled against him with his hand pulled against her, and she had shifted so that her face was once again pressed lightly against his arm.

Are you okay, Ginny?

Yeah, she replied.  It was awful, but… I think I feel a bit better now.

Harry could not say the same.  Lying on his stomach for the entire night with his head turned to one side had left him with a horrible ache in his neck.  Carefully, he raised his head as far as he could and turned to press his face straight down into his pillow.  As he moved, his neck stretched painfully, but it felt better than it had before.  After a moment, he turned his head the rest of the way and laid it back on his pillow.

Professor McGonagall still sat in the armchair she had conjured, holding a small book.  There was no sign that she had left or slept at all.  As Harry turned his head, she looked up from her book and met his eyes.

“Thank you, Professor,” he whispered.  “From me.”  He hoped she understood how grateful he was for what she had done for them simply by being a source of physical comfort.

She gazed at him silently for a few seconds and then nodded.  “You’re very welcome, Harry.”

The professor rose to her feet, stretched, and then Banished the chair she had occupied overnight.  “I look forward to your speedy recovery,” she said.  “If either of you needs me while you are here, for any reason, you know how to reach me.”

“We hope you’re able to rest today,” Harry said.

She smiled tightly.  “Cats can sleep almost anywhere for short periods of time and feel quite refreshed, but I appreciate your concern.”  McGonagall paused for a moment.  “Ginny, I contacted your parents last night via Floo.  It was important to inform them that you were both safe before they heard any rumours of your adventures from other sources.  I also sent an owl to the Dursleys, although I doubt they will respond in any meaningful way.”

Oh no, Ginny moaned.

“What… what did Mr. and Mrs. Weasley say, Professor?” Harry asked.

“They were, of course, relieved to hear that your prognosis was good, Harry, and that you, Ginny, were essentially unharmed.  I told them only very generally what had happened, and I promised to call them again first thing this morning to provide an update on your condition.”

Harry sighed.  “Thank you for telling us, Professor.”

“You’re welcome.  Good day, Harry and Ginny.”  With a final nod, McGonagall walked around the bed, and Harry heard the doors of the hospital wing open and then close quietly.

What are we going to tell your parents? Harry wondered.  They’re going to ask sooner or later.

We’ll tell them the same things that Fred and George know, I suppose, Ginny said.  Otherwise, they’ll just hear about it somewhere else, like McGonagall said.

They were quiet for a few moments.  I just don’t know, Harry.

“Good morning, Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley.”  Madam Pomfrey’s voice came from the direction of her office, and her tone was businesslike as always.  “Shall I assist Mr. Potter to the lavatory?”

Ginny giggled in their minds as Harry flushed lightly at the thought of receiving help of that sort, but the truth was unavoidable.  “Err… yes, please.”

Pomfrey walked up on his right until he could see her standing behind Ginny, nearly in the spot McGonagall had occupied.  “Very well.  I will levitate you off the bed and set you on your feet.  From there you should be able to manage on your own, though movement may be a trifle awkward at first.”

Harry nodded, relieved that the matron would not have to accompany him into the lavatory itself.  She pulled the blanket off of him, draping it around Ginny, and used the levitation charm to raise him a few inches.

The moment Harry’s body moved, Ginny’s grip on his arm tightened.  After a few moments, when Ginny’s hold did not relax, Pomfrey lowered him back to the bed.

Sorry, Ginny said.

It’s alright.  This time he was chuckling at her.

“Can you… err, could you give me my wand?  And a towel or something?” he asked.

“A towel?”

“Yes, please.”

Dubiously, the matron put his wand in his left hand and placed a folded towel next to his pillow.  Bending his elbow to aim properly, he whispered, “Brunesempra.”

The familiar, standard-sized version of Bun-bun appeared next to him.  “Could you give this to her, please?” Harry asked.

“That is a rather curious spell, Mr. Potter,” the matron observed with a raised eyebrow.  “I don’t recall that being in the first-year curriculum.”

“No, Madam,” Harry agreed as Ginny mentally groaned her embarrassment.  “I learned that spell just for Ginny.”

“I see.”  Pomfrey picked up the bunny and tucked it carefully into the crook of Ginny’s arm.  Harry carefully rotated his hand around the wrist Ginny was clinging to and gently took her hand.  Then he nudged her fingers towards the plush toy. After a few moments of encouragement, Ginny shifted her grip to the familiar object.

Thanks, she said, still slightly embarrassed.

You’re welcome, he replied with an internal grin.

Pomfrey levitated him again and set him on his feet.  After overcoming some initial unsteadiness due to his Petrified back, he was able to walk stiffly across the ward to the lavatory.  A few minutes later, he emerged again, still twisting and turning his neck to eliminate the last of the stiffness.

“Would you like breakfast now, Mr. Potter?”

“May I wait until Ginny wakes up?”

“If you wish, but she will sleep for at least another hour.”

“That’s alright,” Harry said.

“Back to bed with you, then,” Pomfrey ordered, and then she helped him back into position next to Ginny.

You’re hungry, Harry, Ginny said.  You don’t have to wait for me.

“Your brother Percy visited earlier this morning, Miss Weasley, and inquired about your condition,” Pomfrey said.  “He asked me to tell you that he is glad to learn that you are uninjured.”

Ponce, Ginny muttered.  He says he understands, but apparently he hasn’t actually thought about it at all.

That’s pretty funny, really, Harry added, because it’s Percy.

A bit, she agreed.  Still… he came by, didn’t he?  He still cares, even if he doesn’t show it very well.

After a final warning to avoid unnecessary movement, Madam Pomfrey returned to her office.

Harry and Ginny passed the next hour dissecting everything they had seen and learned the night before.  In the light of day, it was only slightly less terrifying, but Ginny was determined to find some way to regain their usual cheerfulness.  Dwelling on those events would not help them at the moment, and she wanted to think of something other than the Headmaster’s choices over the past year.

We should give Hermione a piece of firewood for her next birthday, Ginny suggested.

Can’t you picture her carrying it around in her bag, just in case?

That’s a bonus, right? Harry asked.

When Ginny’s body woke up, she took a shower and changed into the uniform that had been brought for her.  It was not what she would have chosen to wear on a day without classes, but it was certainly better than the previous evening’s clothes or her pyjamas.

Madam Pomfrey allowed Harry to sit up long enough to eat his breakfast, and Ginny sat in a chair that she had pulled up next to Harry’s bed, inside the curtained area and opposite her own bed.  When they were finished, Harry stacked his dishes and moved to put them on the table nearby.

Oh no, you don’t, Ginny said, putting down her own tray and jumping up from her chair.  You just lie back down the way Pomfrey wanted you to!

I just wanted to put the tray down, he protested.

Too bad!  You can’t!  She pulled the tray out of his hands and put it next to hers.  Whenever you’re not eating or using the loo, you’re lying on your front.  I said you wouldn’t move, and I meant it.

Oh, alright, he agreed with a sigh.  He knew she was right, but he hated being unable to do things for himself.  She knew that and sympathised slightly, but neither of them really wanted to risk his healing.  Harry knew that Ginny would not tolerate any deviation from her instructions at the moment.

As Harry lay back down, facing towards Ginny’s chair and the door, she pulled the curtains open to ask Madam Pomfrey what to do with their dishes.  The matron Banished them with a wave of her wand.  “Your classmates and brothers have been waiting to see you,” she said.  “If you promise to keep them from disturbing Mr. Potter, I will let them in for the remainder of the morning.”

“They won’t bother Harry, Madam Pomfrey,” Ginny assured her, eager to see their friends and family.  “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Very well.”

When the doors opened, Harry and Ginny heard several people scrambling to their feet, followed by one of the twins’ voices.  “About time.  If you’re going to make people wait in the hallway, couldn’t you at least put out some catalogues or something?”

“Perhaps a portrait or two to keep us company,” the other said.

“You were more than welcome to return to your common room, as I told you,” Pomfrey said calmly.  “If you choose to loiter in my hallway, then that is none of my concern.  Now, you may visit Mr. Potter until lunchtime, provided that you do not move him and do not make too much noise in my hospital.  Is that perfectly clear?”

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione answered promptly.

The matron stepped out of the doorway, and Ginny could see the twins, Ron, and Hermione in the corridor beyond.  As soon as the path was clear, the four students hurried into the hospital wing and surrounded the double bed.

Ginny had elected to sit cross-legged on her bed next to Harry, with her knees against his arm and her bare foot once again resting in his upturned hand.  As soon as her brothers approached she raised her wand in warning.  “Remember, nobody touches Harry or the beds.”

“No problem, Ginny,” Fred said, dropping into the chair she had occupied earlier.  George and Ron pulled over three more chairs, and the four students sat in a rough line along the side of Harry’s bed.

“How are you, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Uh, not too bad, thanks.  Just a bit stiff, perhaps.”

“That’s preposterous,” she replied in a matter-of-fact tone.  “You’ve got bandages covering half of your back.  You’re not ‘just a bit stiff.’”

“Well, yeah, my back’s Petrified, actually,” he admitted.  “So I am more than a bit stiff, but I can’t feel any of the rest.”

“What happened?” Hermione asked, regarding the pair on the bed with glistening eyes.  “Madam Pomfrey told us you’d been burned, but nobody’s said how it happened.”

Ginny described the evening’s events as well as she could without revealing anything about the Philosopher’s Stone to the twins.  She did not correct Ron’s assumption that Quirrell had been incinerated by the black fire, but Harry and Ginny silently agreed to tell Ron and Hermione the whole story sometime later.

As she spoke, Ginny reached down and began rubbing the muscles of Harry’s neck with her fingers, attempting to alleviate some of the discomfort there.

Thanks, Ginny.

I feel it, too, she replied as she easily adapted her movements to what felt best for him.

“What about you, Hermione?” Ginny asked when she was finished with her tale.  “How did you get back out to the third floor?”

“Yeah,” Ron encouraged her.  “You said you’d tell us when you told Ginny and Harry.”

Hermione blushed, but Ginny was sure she saw a tiny smile on her friend’s face.  After a moment, Hermione took a deep breath.  “Alright, I suppose.  I left the room with the logic puzzle and went back past the troll –”

Ron paled slightly and straightened abruptly.  “Troll?! What troll?!”

“It was after the chess set,” Ginny said.  “Quirrell had already knocked it out, so we just went around it.”

“Oh.  Well… good, then.”

We’ll never tell him the truth about the troll on Halloween, right?  Harry asked.

Not any time soon.

A sudden thought made Harry grin.  “I was going to let Ginny stop for a snack, but she wasn’t hungry just then.”

You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?

I’d have to forget it, too, he pointed out.  And that’d be an awful shame.

The others laughed.  “Do you suppose we could ask Mum to pick up some troll pies at the market?” Fred asked.

Ginny, Ron, and Harry all froze.  “Don’t you dare,” Ginny said sternly, locking eyes with her brother.

Fred recoiled slightly and raised his hands.  “Just kidding, Ginny.  Honest.”

Hermione cleared her throat.  “I got back to the room with the chess game,” she said, continuing her story, “but it had reset itself.  The white pieces were on my side of the room that time, and they blocked me from just running to the other side.  Ron was still lying off to one side where we left him.”

“So you had to play again?” Ginny asked.

“Good job, Hermione,” Ron said.  “How’d you do?”

“I didn’t really play at all,” she answered.  “I just repeated all the same moves you made, and the set did the same things in response.”

The other five students stared at her in stunned silence for a moment.  Hermione looked at them as though she could not understand what was so strange about her story.

Finally, Ginny spoke up.  “Hermione… there must have been at least thirty moves in that game.  You remembered every single one?”

Catching on at last, Hermione blushed again and refused to meet anyone’s eyes.  “Well… yes, I did.”  She raised her head.  “But it wasn’t that hard.  I mean… all the moves fit into a sort of pattern, didn’t they?”

Ron nodded, but Ginny thought that her own expression, as well as Harry’s, surely matched the dubious looks on the twins’ faces.

“We’re going to play a lot more chess next year, Hermione,” Ron said.

Hermione shrugged.  “If you like.  In any event, once the game was over, I levitated Ron and took him back to the room with all the keys, but the door to get out required a different key.  I tried flying, but I couldn’t keep up with the keys at all, much less find one in particular.  My only option was to try remove the charms again, one key at a time.

“I was still working on that when Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster came into the room from the other direction.  They fixed Ron in a trice, and we told them everything that we knew.  Then they sent us back to the common room to wait for you in case you went there.”

“You should’ve seen McGonagall,” Ron jumped into the conversation, all but cutting Hermione off.  “You know how Mum gets when she’s really, really angry about something, and she won’t stop until she’s sorted it out?”  Harry and Ginny nodded cautiously as the twins shuddered their agreement.  “Well, McGonagall was like that, only worse.  I think she’d have blown a hole in the castle if that silver key hadn’t still been flopping around on the floor.  Dumbledore looked like he was just sort-of tagging along in her wake.”

“She was just a bit intimidating,” Hermione agreed after a moment’s reflection.

“How did you get back up through the trapdoor and past Fluffy?” Harry asked.

“Oh, we took two of the brooms and flew up through trapdoor,” Hermione replied.  “Dumbledore told us that all we had to do was sing, and Fluffy wouldn’t bother us.”

“Sing?” Ginny echoed incredulously.

“Yeah,” Ron said.  “Music puts him to sleep.  We couldn’t think of anything except the school song, though, so we flew up past the ruddy beast bellowing ‘Hoggy Warty Hogwarts.’  Pretty funny, now that I think of it.”

“Anyway,” Hermione continued, “we went back to the tower, and Neville, Fred, and George were already waiting there.  We all sat for a while but finally decided to try the hospital wing.”  She shrugged.  “We found you, and that was that.”

“Kids these days,” Fred said with a mournful look at his twin.  “They go off on adventures and leave their betters behind.”

George nodded solemnly.  “Course, you might expect that out of bookends.  They’re not nearly as smart as the books, since they only see the end.”

“Why were you already in the common room?” Ginny asked them, ignoring their banter.

“Fred and I came downstairs after midnight to, um, nick some food from the kitchens,” George said, running one hand through his hair hurriedly.  “We found Neville and unpetrified him.  He told us a really strange story.  We all went to find McGonagall, and she sent us back to the tower right quick while she went off to find you lot.”

Fred looked at Ginny and frowned.  “I don’t think you should have Petrified Neville, Ginny.  He was trying to look out for you.”

“I know,” Ginny agreed, looking at her feet.  “I’m going to find him today and apologise.”

“Good,” George said, giving her a quick nod when she looked back at him.  “He knows some of what really happened, but he still deserves to hear it from you.”

Fred grinned suddenly.  “You missed a bit of fun at breakfast this morning,” he told Harry and Ginny.  “Someone must have heard us talking in the common room last night, because the story started to get around about the dog, the plant, and all of that.”

“Everyone knows?”  Harry asked worriedly.

“Yeah, they know,” Fred said.  “But they don’t know that they know that they know, you know?  Once we got wind of the story going around, we started enhancing it, so no one knows what they ought not to know.”

“How did it feel to wrestle a herd of bewitched goats, Ginny?”  George asked, his eyes wide and awestruck.

“Did you really have to play Exploding Snap with a pack of werewolves?”

“And what about that fifty-foot Flobberworm?  Did you really have to chew your way through it?”

“And if so,” Fred added, “did it taste like chicken?  I heard some Ravenclaw telling a Firstie that it would.”

The four first years were frozen in surprise for a moment, and then they all laughed, though Harry was a bit restricted by the immobilization charm on his chest and back.

“Honestly, though,” George said after they had calmed down somewhat.  “Did you really use a giant plush toy to get past that giant dog?  That’s got to be the strangest of all the things Ron told us.”

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed.

“You should have seen it,” Ron added.  “It was bigger than Hagrid.”

“I think it was the largest stuffed rabbit in the world,” Hermione said wistfully.  “It made me wish I could have one of my own.”

“Well, you can’t,” Ginny stated, pulling the bunny from her pillow into her lap.  “Bun-bun is mine, no matter what size he is, and that one wouldn’t fit in the dormitory anyway.  You can have the next odd toy Harry creates by accident.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.  “I’ll remember that.”

George grinned.  “Anyhow, all anyone really knows is the line Dumbledore fed us last night.  Quirrell was trying to steal something, so you four went to stop him.  With Ron and Hermione hanging around as usual, they know that the two of you,” he waved airily at the pair on the bed, “ended up finding him.”

“I heard one Slytherin suggesting that Harry was really a vampire and got tired of all the garlic that man carried,” Fred interjected.

“Yeah, that was a good one,” George agreed.  “In any case, since you’re still alive and, uhh, mostly well, yet Quirrell’s nowhere to be found, they figure that you managed to save whatever-it-is.”

“And, believe me,” Fred said, “‘whatever-it-is’ is a big source of speculation.”

“Lee’s trying to convince people that it’s Dumbledore’s ‘Magical Mystical Munificent Mane Medicinal’,” George said.

“D’you suppose there is such a thing?” the other twin asked.  “If there were, we could find all kinds of ways to use it.”

“Could be, Fred, could be.  Or it could be that nobody ever taught him the shaving charm.”

“Good point,” Fred said.  “Or maybe he’s just really bad at it, and he figures that a beard is better for his dignity than a spotty bit of scruff.” He shared a final look with his twin, and they both shrugged before Fred turned back to Ginny and Harry.  “Anyway, most people seem to think that Dumbledore was guarding some powerful magical relic, and they all agree that it would have been absolutely disastrous if the dear, departed Quirrell had got his paws on whatever-it-is.”

Well, they’re right about that, Harry said.

Whether they know it or not.

“Speaking of which… ”  The twins dug into the pockets of their robes and pulled out an amazing assortment of shrunken sweets.  After a few quick waves of their wands, small boxes of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, individually-wrapped Chocolate Frogs, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, Ice Mice, Peppermint Toads, and even a few Cockroach Clusters were stacked into a haphazard pile on the table at the foot of Harry’s bed.

“Most of the Gryffindors and a few people we’ve never met asked us to bring this in for you,” Fred said as he patted his pockets.  “Some Slytherin girl tried to slip a Dungbomb into the lot, so we went ahead and checked out all the rest.  Everything here is safe to eat.”

“I’m not sure the Cockroach Clusters are good to eat, mind you, but that’s your problem,” George added.

At that moment, the infirmary doors swung open, and Molly Weasley strode into the room with Mr. Weasley and Professor McGonagall struggling to keep up.  Ron and the twins leapt to their feet and turned to face the door.

Bugger, Ginny thought.  As quickly and casually as she could, she relaxed her posture and leaned sideways until she was nearly reclining next to Harry, with one elbow propped on her pillow.  I do not want to talk to them yet.

“Ginny!” her mother cried, rushing forward.

“Molly!” McGonagall said sharply.  “If you touch Harry or jostle the beds, you might very well damage him permanently.”

Mrs. Weasley slowed her approach somewhat as she rounded the bed.  “Ginny, dear,” she said, gently lifting Ginny bodily out of bed and setting her on her feet.  “Are you alright?  Let me look at you.”

“I’m fine, Mum, just really tired.”  Ginny stood patiently, in spite of a vague sense of exasperation, as her mother looked her over from head to toe and then hugged her tightly.  “Harry’s the one who got hurt.”

Mr. Weasley squatted near the head of Harry’s bed and looked him in the eye.  “How are you, Harry?” he asked.

Don’t lift your head when you talk, Ginny instructed him.

“I’m fine, Mr. Weasley,” Harry said, his voice partially muffled by the pillow beneath his head.

The older man smiled gently.  “I’m not sure you’re fine, Harry.  Haven’t you noticed all the bandages and suchlike?”

Ginny spotted Hermione’s quick grin before the other girl’s face settled back into careful neutrality.

Mr. Weasley looked across the bed at her.  “What happened to him, Ginny?  Professor McGonagall just said he was seriously injured.”

Ginny climbed carefully back up onto her bed and moved her pillow so that she could lean against the wall behind her.  When she was in place, she pulled her hair over one shoulder and idly ran her fingers through it as she leaned her head back.  She sighed deeply and said, “He got burned, Daddy.  All over his back.”

“But he’s going to be okay?” he replied.

She nodded.  “Provided he doesn’t move too much.  Madam Pomfrey’s keeping him partially Petrified.”

Professor McGonagall conjured a stool and sat quietly behind her students.  Seeing her, George pulled up two more chairs to the foot of Harry’s bed.  “Thank you, son,” Mr. Weasley said, dropping into one of them.

Mrs. Weasley pulled the blankets on the bed up over Ginny’s lap, and then she Summoned an additional pillow from an empty bed and tucked it behind her daughter’s shoulders.  She squeezed Ginny’s arm as though she was reluctant to let go, but then she walked around the beds and sat down as well.  Somewhat hesitantly, the Weasley brothers resumed their positions.

“Are you alright, Ron?” Mrs. Weasley asked.  “Minerva said you hadn’t been injured.”

“I’m okay, Mum,” he replied.  “Barely a scratch.”

“Mum, Dad,” Ginny said, hoping to distract them as she waved towards Hermione.  “This is our friend, Hermione Granger.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Hermione,” Mrs. Weasley said somewhat distractedly.  “Ginny’s told us so many wonderful things about you.”

Hermione smiled.  “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.  It’s a pleasure to meet you, also.”

“Were you along for this adventure of theirs, too?”  Mr. Weasley asked.  At Hermione’s nod, he continued.  “And did you get hurt at all?”

“No,” she replied, “the others did all of the work.”

Ginny rolled her eyes at her friend’s modesty, but she schooled her expression as her parents turned back towards her.  She did her best to ignore the speculative look Hermione was giving her behind their backs.

“Tell us what happened, then,” Mrs. Weasley instructed.  “Minerva said you’d somehow got in the middle of a conflict between the professors… that Professor Quirrell was trying to steal something from the Headmaster?”

Ginny began to feign a yawn but found that it became real halfway through.  “We’re exhausted, Mum, and Harry can hardly talk at all when he’s lying like that.  Do you mind if Fred and George tell you about it?  They know everything that’s worth knowing since the Headmaster talked to them.”

Fred’s eyes widened in a moment of panic, but George only blinked before he picked up on Ginny’s request.  “Yeah, we’ve heard it twice now, and Dumbledore told us a bit, and Ron and Hermione can help us if we miss anything.  Harry and Ginny really didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

Mrs. Weasley’s hands twitched in her lap, and Ginny knew that her mother desperately wanted to do something comforting.  Ginny looked directly at George and tried to put as much gratitude as she could into her expression.

“I suppose that’s alright,” her father said, glancing at her curiously.

“Well, here’s how it started, then,” George said.  “Dumbledore was hiding something here at school, and he’d put a bunch of things in one of the corridors to protect it.  The ickle Firsties found out that Quirrell wanted to steal it, and then later they worked out that he had actually started to break his way through the Headmaster’s protections.  So they chased after him.”

“They what?!” Mrs. Weasley gasped, half-rising from her chair.

Her husband put a calming hand on her wrist, guiding her back into the seat, and turned to Ron.  “Why didn’t you tell one of the other professors?” he asked.

Ron gulped, but Professor McGonagall spoke before he could.  “They tried, Arthur.  There was… a miscommunication.”  Mr. Weasley’s brow furrowed, but he nodded slowly.

Fred and George, talking in turns, launched into a recounting of the challenges the younger students had faced.  Mrs. Weasley gasped when she heard about the Devil’s Snare, and she insisted on inspecting Ron’s neck for herself.  As her family talked, Ginny let her eyelids sag.

Didn’t think it would be this easy to fake being tired, did we? Harry asked.

Ginny sighed mentally.  It was a long night, and hearing about it only makes it seem longer.

Mrs. Weasley’s grip on her chair had become progressively tighter, and as the twins talked about the chess game, the fallen troll, and the potions puzzle, her arms began to shake slightly with tension.

As Fred and George described the confrontation with Quirrell, Ginny and Harry squeezed their eyes tightly shut, desperately trying to avoid reliving the events as her brothers described them.

“They got into some kind of tussle,” George concluded, “and ended up both falling into a fire that Quirrell had conjured up.  Harry got away by transporting back here, and Quirrell… well… I guess he didn’t get away at all.”

A tear rolled slowly down Ginny’s cheek at the memory of their separation and pain.  They had not noticed any movement, but Ginny was pulled gently into her father’s strong arms and held in a comforting embrace.

“It’s over now, Sweetheart,” he murmured into her hair.  “It’s all over.”

Ginny sniffed and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.  “I know, Daddy.  It just… it just hurt so much.”

Mr. Weasley eased her back onto the pillows and rounded the bed, crossing in front of his family and Hermione to crouch in front of Harry again.

“You were trying to do the right thing, weren’t you, Harry?”

Suddenly nervous, Harry whispered, “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, come now, there’s no need for that with me,” Mr. Weasley replied with a gentle smile.  “Would you say that what you did was really the right thing?”

Harry desperately wanted to shake his head as emphatically as he could, but he had to settle for words.  “No.  Not at all.  Not even close.”

The older man nodded.  “Good lad.”  He ruffled Harry’s hair gently and then stood up.  He scanned the row of people sitting next to Harry’s bed, and Ginny saw his eyes stop on her mother.  Following his gaze, Ginny saw that her mother’s face was very pale and she seemed to be swallowing convulsively.

Mr. Weasley returned to his chair and took his wife’s hand as her eyes darted from Ron to Ginny.

“You’re alright?” she whispered.  “Both of you?”  Her gaze swept around to Harry and Hermione.  “All of you?”

Each of them nodded except Harry, and Mrs. Weasley’s breath escaped in a rush.  She swallowed twice more and then found a bit more of her voice.  “You… you sneaked past a giant three-headed dog.”  She took a shuddering breath.  “You played a chess game that could have… have killed you, for all you knew.  You fought against an experienced Dark wizard.”

As her mother finished speaking, Ginny could see tears forming in the woman’s eyes, and she felt a moment of guilt for excluding portions of the story, even as she realised that it was the best thing to do.

No one else spoke, and Mrs. Weasley continued in the same soft, horrified voice.  “I can’t believe that my children… my youngest children… did something so… so… so foolish.  So reckless.  You could have died!

“You should have found an adult,” she said, tilting her head in emphasis.  “You should have told a prefect.  You should have… have run up and down the halls screaming until someone listened to you.  Anything but try to stop him yourself.”

“Molly, they did try… ” McGonagall interjected carefully.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head sharply, but her voice remained quiet.  “I don’t care.  There is no excuse for what they did.”

“If they had not done what they did, the consequences would have been most dire, indeed,” the professor persisted.

Mrs. Weasley closed her eyes and nodded minutely.  “That is good.  I admit it.  That is a good thing.  I am glad of it, but that does not make it acceptable.”

Ginny squeezed her own eyes closed.  Her mother’s quiet words of concern, tinged with the anger that Ginny knew was there, were far more devastating than any shouting might have been.  Her mother, she knew, was not in any sort of towering rage.  Instead, her terror was overwhelming her anger, and Ginny hated to see the result.

“The two of you,” she said, pointing at Ron and Ginny, “will be trimming the grass of the paddock this summer.  Separately.  With scissors.”  For just a moment, her eyes flashed in a hint of her temper.  “Perhaps that will teach you to think!”

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and released it slowly.  Then she stood up and turned to Ron, pulling him up out of his chair and hugging him ferociously.  She released him just as abruptly before performing the same manoeuvre on a very shocked Hermione.  Turning back to the bed, she stood still for a moment, blinking rapidly, and then reached out to gently squeeze Harry’s foot.  Finally, she rounded the bed and pulled Ginny to her shoulder for another crushing embrace.

“My little Ginny,” she whispered softly enough that only Ginny and Harry could hear.  “I’m very glad you’re safe,” she said over Ginny’s head at a more normal volume, “and I’m really very proud of you.  All four of you.  But I… you… ”  She sighed.  “I’m glad you’re safe now.”

Mrs. Weasley finally released Ginny and moved back towards her chair.  As she walked, Ginny heard her soft gasps and saw the tears finally escaping her eyes to roll silently down her scarred nose and reddened cheeks.

Professor McGonagall rose from her chair and intercepted the distraught woman.  “May I offer you a cup of tea in my quarters, Molly?”

Ginny’s mother nodded for a moment before recovering her voice.  “Yes, thank you, Minerva.  That would be very nice.”  Wiping her face with a handkerchief from her pocket, Molly looked around at the gathered children until her eyes rested on Hermione.  “It was lovely to meet you, Hermione.  Arthur, you know where I’ll be.  If you all will excuse me?”

All six students said their goodbyes in soft voices, and then Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall left the room together.  Ginny saw the professor’s hand resting gently on her mother’s back, and once again she was grateful to the woman who had become their mentor.

“Is she… will she be alright?” Hermione asked quietly.

Mr. Weasley shook himself, pulling his eyes away from the doors, and smiled weakly.  “She’ll be fine, Hermione, since you lot are alright.”  His smile became the familiar Weasley grin.  “I think you really impressed her.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, blinking.  “Well… err… thank you?”

“She was serious about the grass, wasn’t she?” Ron asked after a moment of silence.

“Yes, she was,” his father answered, nodding.  “And you’ll do it, too, won’t you?”

Ron nodded, and when Mr. Weasley turned towards Ginny, she said, “Yes, Dad.”

Her father stood up again.  “I need to get back to the Ministry before too long, and a cup of tea wouldn’t hurt me, either.  You lot stay out of trouble, alright?  And Ginny, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to take good care of Harry.”

Ginny shook her head with a small smile.  “Thank you for being here.”

“Any time, Firefly.  And I do mean that literally.  The next time you have something important to say, and no one will listen, you come straight home and tell me.  I’ll see to it that something gets done.  Alright?”

She smiled gratefully.  “Alright, Daddy.”

“Good girl.  We’ll see you all at the platform on the twentieth.”  With a final smile, he turned and walked slowly out of the room, silently pulling the infirmary doors closed behind him.

After a full minute of silence, the six friends all sighed and smiled nervously at each other.

“Well, Hermione,” George said, “what are you going to tell your parents?”

They all laughed a bit breathlessly.  For the remainder of the morning, they nibbled on sweets and devised even more outlandish incidents to add to the rumours of the quartet’s adventure, as well as unlikely stories Hermione might try to tell her own parents when they asked about her term.

Harry grew stiff and restless from lying on his stomach, but each time he considered trying to shift his arms or legs more than an inch, Ginny overrode his plan before he began moving.  They both knew that she really would Petrify the rest of him if she thought it would help him to heal more quickly.

Just before noon, Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office and held the hospital wing door open imperiously.  “Everyone out except for my patients,” she ordered.  “It’s time for lunch, and I rather doubt that any of you want to see me change Mr. Potter’s bandages prior to eating.  Out.”

The three Weasley brothers were quick to rise from their seats, and Hermione followed their lead more calmly.  “May we visit again later, Madam Pomfrey?” she asked.

“Mr. Potter will be asleep for the afternoon, but you may visit him briefly after dinner.  Miss Weasley may spend the afternoon as she pleases.  As of now, she is released from my supervision.”

“I’ll be here, if that’s all right,” Ginny answered instantly.  The matron nodded.

You don’t have to, you know.  I don’t dream, and you could be outside or in the common room or something.

“Alright,” Hermione said.  “We’ll come by after dinner, then.  Try not to move, Harry.”

“Thanks, Hermione.  I’ll do my best.”

“And if he doesn’t,” George added, “Ginny will see to it for him.”

The four other students left in a group, and Ginny sat uncertainly on her bed as Madam Pomfrey drew her wand and approached Harry.  The matron pulled the sheet off of Harry’s back and banished his pyjama shirt, exposing the slightly yellowed bandages beneath, but she paused before removing them.

Her face softened as she looked at Ginny.  “Miss Weasley, there is no need for you to stay for this.  I admire your dedication to Mr. Potter.  I’m sure he appreciates it also, but it does not help him for you to see his injury at this stage.  Perhaps you would like to join your friends for lunch in the Great Hall while I work?”

“Is it going to hurt?” Ginny asked.  She did not want to be elsewhere when she could be distracting them from pain.

“No, child.  You won’t feel anything at all, regardless of how the wound looks.”

Would you mind?  Ginny asked.  I really do want to talk to Neville.

Of course not, he replied.  I don’t actually want to see it either.

Ginny sighed in relief and nodded at the matron.  “Alright.  How long do you suppose it might take?”

“Half an hour, perhaps.”

“That will be plenty of time.  I’ll come back as soon as you’re done, if that’s alright.”  Ginny jumped to the floor, straightened her skirt and blouse, and slipped on her socks and shoes.

“Provided you are alone, Miss Weasley,” Pomfrey answered.

“I will be.  Thank you for letting me stay with him,” Ginny said.

The matron snorted.  “We both know that I could not stop you even if I were so foolishly inclined.  Run along now, child.  I have work to do.”

Ginny walked around the bed, leaned down, and lightly kissed Harry’s forehead.  I’ll be back in an instant if you need me.

He smiled and nodded against his pillow.  I know.

Smiling in return, Ginny left the hospital wing.  The moment the doors had closed behind her, they felt Harry’s back go numb, and the sounds of bandages being manipulated reached their ears as Harry turned his face into the pillow.  Ignoring what was happening to him as much as possible, he focused on what Ginny was seeing and accompanied her as she went to lunch.

It was several minutes after noon, so they decided that there was no point in looking for Neville in Gryffindor Tower.  Instead, Ginny went directly to the Great Hall.  The rumble of voices and dishes grew louder as she approached, and the noise contrasted sharply with the quiet of the hospital wing.  Ginny pushed open one of the huge doors and entered the crowded hall.

As was her habit with Harry, she crossed the foot of the Hufflepuff table and started up the aisle between it and the Gryffindor table.  Before she got halfway to her usual seat, the hall grew quiet in a wave that spread from one end of the room to the other.  Looking around, she saw that almost everyone was staring at her.  Most of them were smiling or nodding, but a few simply looked shocked, and the combined attention was much more than she cared to endure.  She lowered her eyes and walked as quickly as possible towards her seat.

She sat with Neville on her left, as usual, but the seat on her right was strangely empty.  Each time she saw the open space out of the corner of her eye, she instinctively glanced in that direction because it looked so very foreign.  Hermione and Ron sat across from her, and the other students nearby were already casting curious looks at the first years and Ginny in particular.

Hermione leaned across the table towards Ginny.  “You know, it’s very odd seeing you without Harry,” she whispered.  “Aside from trips to the loo, it’s only happened two or three times.”

Ginny glanced at Neville, but he was staring at his food and did not look up at all.  Ginny leaned forward also and whispered, “Far more odd for us.”

Hermione nodded and mouthed, ‘Hi, Harry’, accompanied by a tiny wave of her fingers.

Hi, Hermione, Harry said.  Ginny smiled at their friend in acknowledgement and reply.

Ginny sat back in her seat and served herself lunch from the platters nearby.  She tried to ignore the students near her and her friends, but their stares were becoming more pervasive and their voices were getting louder.  Just when she was sure that one of them would finally ask her a question, Fred dropped into Harry’s usual seat.  On the other side of the table, George sat next to Hermione, and together the twins effectively blocked any other students from talking to Ginny.  She smiled at them gratefully and graciously allowed Fred to nick a piece of fruit from her plate without challenge.

“Chin up, Ginny,” he whispered.  “After Mum and Dad this morning, this crowd is nothing.”

Ginny grinned in response.  As she began to eat, she continuously found herself waiting for the alternating tastes and textures that normally came from Harry during meals.  They had each spent years eating as other people did, and they were surprised by how odd it now seemed.

As she ate, Ginny kept a surreptitious eye on Neville in an attempt to gauge his mood.  He seemed to have eaten his fill, but he was staring at his plate and toying with the remaining crumbs.

“Hi, Neville,” Ginny began tentatively.

“Hullo, Ginny,” he replied without looking up.

She sighed.  She had known this would not be easy, but her friend’s demeanour and response only increased her sense of guilt.

“Neville, I’m really, really sorry,” she said quietly.  “I should have explained things to you first instead of hexing you.”

His eyes flicked up to hers for the briefest of moments before settling back on the crumbs.  “If you’d told me, I might have helped,” he mumbled to his empty plate.  “Or at least stopped trying to keep you from going.”

“I know,” Ginny said, nodding.  “I should have trusted you enough to give you a chance.”

Neville’s shoulders rolled in a loose shrug.  “S’alright, I suppose.  I probably would’ve just slowed you down.  You were right in any case.”

“You were right, too,” she said more softly.  “One of us did get hurt again.  Harry… ”  She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to hold back a surge of her own emotions.  “Harry was hurt terribly.”

I’m okay, Ginny.

“He’ll be fine,” Neville said confidently.  “You’ll see.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” she agreed.  After a moment of silence, she tried again.  “I’m still sorry, no matter who was right about what.”

Neville shrugged again.  “Don’t worry about it.”  He dropped his fork onto his plate and stood up abruptly.  After shifting his weight from foot to foot for a moment, he mumbled, “See you later, Ginny.  Let Harry know I understand, alright?”

“Okay.  Bye, Neville.”  Her subdued voice trailed after his retreating back.  She stared after him for a long moment and then sighed as she turned back to her meal.

“You couldn’t have expected that to go much better,” Fred whispered.

“I suppose not.”

“You made the best choice you could at the time,” Hermione said from across the table.  “That’s all anyone can do.”

Ginny cocked her head at her friend.  “You wouldn’t have hexed him, though.”

The other girl lowered her brow thoughtfully.  “I’m not sure about that,” she said.  “If he had gone on much longer, I think I might have.  You and Harry were so… so… intense, I suppose.”  She shrugged.  “I could tell it was really important.”

Ginny smiled weakly.  “Thanks, Hermione.”

She finished her meal in silence, listening to her friends and family talking around her.  Fred and George teased Hermione gently about her exam results, and Ron occasionally grunted his contributions around mouthfuls of food.

Almost too normal, isn’t it? Harry asked.

Yeah.  But at the same time, it’s a weird sort of normal.

After a few more minutes, Madam Pomfrey announced that she was finished with Harry’s bandages and removed the Petrification.  She set him on his feet, conjured a new shirt for him, and sent him to the lavatory.  When he returned, she led him through a series of simple movements to properly and carefully stretch the raw skin of his back.

“It is important to preserve the skin’s normal flexibility,” she explained, “and these exercises help to do that.  They require careful monitoring, but between the exercises and the potions, your back should heal with no lingering problems.  That is if you do as you’re told, Mr. Potter.”  Regardless of the reason, Harry was glad to be able to move his torso even a bit.

Ginny excused herself from the table, walked to her dormitory to retrieve her book bag, and transported back to the hospital wing.  Just after she arrived, the matron Petrified Harry’s back again and then gave him his lunch.  Ginny held his free hand as he ate, and when he was finished she encouraged him to drink the half-dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion provided by Madam Pomfrey.  His senses faded out of their perception even as his breathing became deep and regular.

Ginny spent part of the afternoon reading a textbook, but eventually she lay down to rest at Harry’s side.

Two hours later, Harry awoke from the effects of the Sleeping Draught.  When he stirred, Ginny awoke from her nap, and Harry turned his head to the other side to watch as she brushed her hair, removing the tangles of sleep.  He never tired of the colours and texture of her hair, and they enjoyed the sensation of brushing it.

Before Ginny had finished, Madam Pomfrey opened the curtains around their beds.  “The Headmaster was here a while ago to enquire as to your condition, and he said that he would visit again tomorrow when you were more likely to be awake.  Hagrid also came by, and he seemed quite eager to see you.  I instructed him to come back after five o’clock.  Would you like to see him?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Harry said.  They had appreciated their quiet afternoon together, but they knew they would get bored without company.

“Very well,” the matron replied.  “We will need to separate your beds during his visit.”

Ginny moved into the chair next to Harry’s bed while Madam Pomfrey slid the other bed back to its original place and straightened its blankets.  Then she adjusted the curtains to enclose only Harry’s bed and left them open.  Any outsider would think that Harry was the only patient in the hospital wing and that Ginny was merely visiting him.

A short while later there was a heavy knock on the door. Madam Pomfrey opened it to allow Hagrid to enter the room.  “Mr. Potter mustn’t be touched,” she warned him.

“I’ll be careful,” Hagrid promised as he entered, and Harry thought their friend sounded odd.  Hagrid straightened and stopped for a moment, and Ginny watched his eyes slide along Harry’s covered form.  The huge man snuffled loudly, and they noticed that his eyes were red-rimmed.  He shook his head and then crossed the room to sit on Ginny’s bed, which bent visibly under his weight.

“How are yeh, ‘Arry?” Hagrid asked timidly.

“I’ll be alright, Hagrid,” he replied.  “How’ve you been?”

The groundskeeper’s composure shattered, and huge tears leaked from his eyes.  “How’ve I been?” he howled.  “I nearly get yeh killed, twice, and yer askin’ me how I’ve been!”  He shook his shaggy head as he looked down at his hands.  “Heart as big as Hogwarts, yeh’ve got.  Jus’ like yer mum, bless her soul.”

Harry was momentarily distracted by the sliver of information about his mother, but he hastened to reassure his huge friend.  “It’s alright, Hagrid.  You didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”  As he spoke, Ginny walked around his bed and sat next to Hagrid, putting a comforting hand on his broad back and leaning her head onto his arm.

“But I did do summat wrong, didn’ I?” Hagrid protested Harry’s words.  “Forest is no place for firs’ years, Professor McGonagall said, an’ she’s righ’.  Took you off into th’ forest, an’ what’d you find?  You-Know-Who!  Yeh coulda been killed!”

“But I wasn’t… ” Harry began.

Hagrid continued his sobbing confession, noticing neither Harry’s interruption nor Ginny’s attempt to get his attention by tugging his arm.  “An’ if that weren’t enough, I told You-Know-Who how to get pas’ Fluffy!  Gave it to ‘im on a platter, I did, jus’ for a dragon egg.  An’ you went ter fix it.”  He took a shuddering breath as his shoulders heaved.  “An’ yeh got all burned, ‘Arry!” he wailed.

“Hagrid, I’m okay,” Harry said again, but Hagrid did not seem to hear him.  He sat, with his head in his hands, sobbing loudly enough to shake the bed on which he sat.

Ginny could not stand to see their friend this way.  Giving up on his arm, she climbed directly onto Hagrid’s lap.  Kneeling on one of his massive thighs, facing him directly, she reached up and put her small hands on either side of his huge head.

“Hagrid,” Ginny said softly.  “Come on, Hagrid.  Look, Harry’s alright.  You can see him right there.  It all worked out okay.”

At her coaxing, Hagrid lowered his hands and looked up at her with thick tears still running down his face.  Ginny met his eyes and moved her hands to his wet cheeks, trying her best to project the calm reassurance that her father had always offered to her when she was upset.  “He’s going to be fine,” she said again.  “If you hadn’t told him what he needed to know, Voldemort would have figured it out some other way.  Maybe he would have hurt you to get it, and the very same thing would have happened to Harry.”

“Don’t say ‘is name!” Hagrid protested weakly.

“It’s just a name, but that’s not the point,” Ginny said in the same calm voice.  “It’s not your fault that Harry got hurt.  Maybe you made mistakes at the pub and with the Forest, but you didn’t mean to.  Just be careful not to do it again.”

Hagrid stilled under her hands as his tears stopped.  “Yeh’ve been here all day, haven’t yeh, Ginny?”  She nodded without speaking, and he sniffed again.  “Yer a good friend to him.  An’ to me.”

Hagrid wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his shoulder.  His grip was tight, but it was obvious to Ginny that he was being careful not to hurt her.  She stayed quiet and let Hagrid rock her in his arms for a few minutes.

I suppose this is how Bun-bun feels, Harry said.

So long as it works, Ginny replied.  But I do wish he’d wash his hair.

Harry watched as Hagrid finally opened his eyes and looked over Ginny’s head.  “Yer gonna realise how fortunate yeh really are one day, ‘Arry.  For now, jes’ take my word for it.”

Harry and Ginny started.  Does he know?  How could he know? she wondered.

“What do you mean, Hagrid?” Harry asked cautiously.

The gigantic man chuckled, vibrating Ginny’s whole body where she was still held in his arms.  “I’ve seen lots o’ students come through ‘ere, ‘Arry.  Sometimes I kin jus’ tell by lookin’.  Yeh’ll know what I mean sooner or later.”

They were relieved, but Harry adopted an expression of innocent confusion.  “Okay, Hagrid.  If you say so.”

He’s right, though, he said silently.  Ginny silently sent him a warm rush of affection in return.

At last, Hagrid released his grip on Ginny and set her on her feet in front of him.  “Speakin’ o’ which, I brough’ somethin’ for yeh,” he said.  Reaching into a pocket of his coat, he pulled out a package wrapped in rough brown paper.  “Can yeh open it for ‘im, Ginny?”

Ginny nodded and took the package from his hands as she slid off of his lap.  She unwrapped it, letting the paper fall to the floor, and found a handsome, leather-bound book.  She opened it, and on the first page was a picture of James and Lily Potter, sitting on a bench on the Hogwarts grounds and smiling as they leaned into each other.

“Oh, Harry,” Ginny breathed as their emotions surged.  He could see the picture, but she carried the book to the bed and held it where he could see it with his own eyes.

“‘Ermione came ter see me a while back,” Hagrid explained between bouts of blowing his nose in a kerchief the size of a jumper.  “She said you didn’ have any pictures o’ yer parents.  Shoulda realised tha’ meself.  I wrote letters to some o’ their old school friends, an’ they sent me some pictures for yeh.  I hope yeh like it.”

Ginny flipped through the pages, and they looked at image after image of James and Lily Potter.  In some pictures they were with other people, but every photo included both of his parents smiling and clearly enraptured with each other.

“It’s brilliant, Hagrid,” Harry said.  “This is… amazing.  I’ve never had a better present.  Thank you.”

“Glad ter do it,” Hagrid replied.

The door opened again, and Hermione leaned into the room.  “Oh, good, you’re awake,” she said.  “Oh, hello, Hagrid.  Madam Pomfrey said we could stop by before dinner.  Do you mind if we come in?”

“Not at all,” Harry said, turning his head away from Hagrid to look at the door.  He watched as Hermione, Ron, and the twins filed into the room.  Hermione had a thick book tucked under one arm, and the twins’ pockets bulged noticeably.  They all greeted Hagrid, who rose ponderously to his feet.

“I’ll be goin’, then,” he said.  “Got things ter do meself.  You lot take care of our ‘Arry, here, alrigh’?”

“I’m fine, Hagrid, I promise,” Harry said, though he could not see his large friend.

“I know, I know… but it never hurts to ‘ave a few friends about.  All of yeh’ll come down an’ see me before yeh leave, won’t yeh?”

“Of course,” Hermione promised.  “Have a good evening, Hagrid.”

After a round of farewells, including a hug for Ginny and a careful pat on Harry’s leg, Hagrid squeezed through the door and left the hospital wing.  Ginny turned to Hermione as the twins emptied another batch of sweets from their pockets onto the table.

“Did you know about this?” Ginny asked, holding the photo album open to the first page.  “Hagrid said you talked to him about it.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Hermione said.  “I told him Harry didn’t have any photographs and asked if he knew of any, but I didn’t know he’d found some.”

“Thanks for giving him the idea,” Harry said.  “It’s perfect.”

“You’re welcome,” she said.

“You can all sit down if you like,” Ginny said.

“Thanks, sister dear, but I’m afraid we can’t stay too long,” Fred said.  “We’ve got to get to dinner on time so that we don’t miss the start of Quidditch practice.  We can’t possibly win the game without a Seeker, but Oliver says we have to play our best anyway to try and make up some points.”

“And of course we can’t possibly win the House Cup, either, thanks to yours truly,” George added.

“We lost points, too,” Ginny said.

“Ah, yes,” George agreed.  “But we say that it’s our fifty points that will keep us out of the running.”

Fred nodded.  “The rest of Gryffindor has forgiven you two completely, so they pretty much agree with us.  Of course, our spreading the idea around a bit didn’t hurt.”

“Ron and I were going to watch the practice,” Hermione said, “but I can stay here with you if you’d rather.”

“You persuaded her to watch Quidditch practice?” Harry asked Ron.

The other boy shrugged.  “She’s brought a book.”

Hermione ignored Ron.  “I really don’t mind keeping you company instead.”

An idea was beginning to form in Harry and Ginny’s minds, so Ginny shook her head.  “It’s okay, Hermione.  Go on out and watch.  We’ve mostly just been sleeping and reading anyway.”

Their friend blinked in surprise.  “Oh.  Well, alright, I suppose.”

“Come on, then,” Fred said.  “We’d best get started.  Shall we stop by after practice, Harry?”

He could not help a small grin.  “Sure, if you want to.”

The four students left, and Harry and Ginny could not help treasuring the confused, thoughtful look on Hermione’s face.

She needs to be surprised every now and again, Harry said.  It keeps her sharp.

And, more importantly, it’s fun, Ginny added.