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Grâce au Malfoys by romulus lupin
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Grâce au Malfoys

romulus lupin

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and related characters are the property of JK Rowling, various publishing companies, Warner Brothers and whoever else. No monies are being made from this; I'm just indulging in playing in an alternate universe to real life.

Grâce auX Malfoys - Part 5

Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Laughter was the last thing on people's minds in the ancient castle.

Ginevra Molly Weasley was angry.

And when Ginevra Weasley was angry, ghosts fled, portraits hid - and everyone else knew to keep out of her way.

There was no mystery as to why she was angry - the rumours started spreading within seconds of her stalking out of the Great Hall. As had been observed before, rumour and gossip were the only things in the magical world faster than apparition.

The first wave of rumours was straightforward: Someone had fed a love potion to her brother - and Ginny was out for blood. Most people scoffed at that; the older students knew that Ginny would have gladly helped the witch feed a potion to her brother - besides, they thought, Ginny wouldn't be the one doing the hexing if Ron were the victim.

Hermione Granger would be the one.

Right?

That rumour was quickly followed by another: the love potion wasn't intended for her brother, it was intended for Ginny's betrothed, Harry Potter.

Heads nodded. That was certainly more credible than the earlier rumour although heads were shaking at the name of the witch who'd allegedly tried to `potion' Harry Potter. Everyone agreed, however, that the witch's life was measured in hours - Ginny Weasley was out for blood, and would doubtless be assisted by Harry's best friend and Ronald Weasley's betrothed, Hermione Granger.

Which led to the question - where was Hermione Granger?

Come to think of it … where was Harry Potter?

***

Office of the Minister of Magic

Two young people in grey robes with the hoods thrown back peeked around the ornate door of the Minister of Magic's office and grinned manically at the sight before them: the tall, broad, dark and bald Minister sitting at his desk, eyes closed, fingers steepled beneath his chin, apparently asleep. For a moment, concern flashed on their faces - the normally neat and tidy Kingsley Shacklebolt looked haggard and grey, the result of too many tense days and sleepless nights before, during and after the final battle with He-Who-Is-Now-Gone.

Their concern was short-lived, however. This was too good an opportunity, so the young woman cast a silent `Sonorus' on herself, and a fair approximation of Molly Weasley's foghorn voice blasted the room: "KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT! I LEAVE YOU FOR A MINUTE AND YOU FALL ASLEEP ON THE JOB! YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED -"

Hermione couldn't finish - she and Harry were on the floor, laughing at the sight of the Minister for Magic cowering behind his desk, looking exactly like a boy who'd been caught by his mum reading `exotic' men's magazines.

Shacklebolt scowled as he realized he'd been had; drawing himself to his full and impressive height, he glared at them before shifting his eyes to his secretary standing in the door, who'd apparently rushed in when Hermione started shouting - and was now valiantly struggling to keep from joining the teens on the floor. She squeaked and was about to flee when Harry said, "Hey! Don't take it out on Natalie - I told her not to tell you we were here..."

Shacklebolt glared at Harry, who was helping Hermione to her feet. Sighing, the Minister glanced at his secretary who nodded, smiled and carefully closed the door - although Shacklebolt could hear hysterical laughter before it was abruptly cut off, doubtless from a silencing charm. The three friends looked at each other for a moment before dissolving into laughter themselves - and the Minister's office (both inside and out) rang with a sound so seldom heard in the past few months: unchecked, belly-aching mirth over a harmless prank between friends.

***

5th Floor Stairs, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Ginvera Molly Weasley was angry.

No, she wasn't angry.

She felt betrayed - of all the people she knew, Susan Bones was the last person she would have thought capable of feeding anyone a love potion.

For one, it just wasn't in the gentle Hufflepuff's nature.

For another, Ginny just couldn't believe that Susan would do something like that - to her.

HOW CAN SHE DO THAT TO ME?

It was the single thought that accompanied every angry step she took as she climbed the stairs. It was a ditty that started when she'd thrown that stunner at her brother Ron - and kept repeating in her mind in an endless, continuing loop.

She wanted to scream - she wanted to cry - she didn't know what she felt.

Betrayed … angry … incensed … crushed … furious … trampled …

Confused.

WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT TO ME?

Ginny nearly stumbled at the top of the stairs as that particular question blasted through her mind, her towering rage dissipating as her rational side kicked in.

Amazing, she thought, how a single, simple change in a question transforms the equation. She slumped on the stone steps, trying to find the righteous anger that she'd felt earlier when she saw Ron drink his tea and start calling for Susan. She'd Stunned him, not because he sounded like a farmer calling for his hogs (though he did sound like one) but because she'd been overwhelmed by her anger - as she had every right to be.

How can she do that to me?

She paused, took a deep breath as she thought, Wrong question.

Why would she do that to me, Ginny asked herself. Why? What have I done?

As if the question were a trigger for her Inner Eye, memories started to engulf her.

Flashback

She was in the cramped parlour of Great-Aunt Muriel's house, catching up on events with her family after evacuating the Burrow; Bill had told them that Ron's faked spattergroit had been discovered and it was time to move...

This was the first time in months that the Weasley family were together- well, most of them, that is.

Ginny looked around and smiled - Bill and Fleur were sharing a moth-eaten couch while she lounged in an equally old chair in front of them; to one side, Fred, George and Charlie were talking in low tones; she could hear her mother puttering in the kitchen while her dad was asleep upstairs.

Ginny sighed. If only Harry, Hermione and Ron were here - there'd been no real contact with them since Bill's wedding. She suspected they were staying at Bill's place but she didn't press the matter; some things were best left unknown, she knew.

She shook her head as Bill and Fleur told them about Ron staying with them for several weeks in December; roared with laughter at Fleur's French-accented rendition of Molly when she visited to find Ron in the kitchen scarfing down food like there was no tomorrow - and no Harry or Hermione in sight; felt her breath hitch as Bill and the others talked about the people they'd lost to the war.

As she listened, she felt a cold wave of dread wash over her and she was on her feet, wand out and tense, trying to understand what was happening. The others, seeing this, were on their feet - confused but alert, falling silent as they watched her.

The sudden silence allowed Bill's were-enhanced hearing to pick up the distant sound of spellfire - he quickly disillusioned himself and Ginny heard the near-silent `pop' of apparition as Fred or George rushed up the stairs to wake their father.

They waited tensely for Bill to return; no one noticed Ginny literally quivering with anxiety - whatever was happening, she needed to be there. She couldn't explain it but there was something tugging at her, pulling her towards the distant sound of battle. It was all she could do to stop herself from running out - a tiny, logical part of her brain told her to wait so she could portkey with the rest rather than charge into the fray like a headless Gryffindor, but fear and need was overcoming logic and caution...

She jumped when Bill reappeared and quickly briefed them - a pitched battle between Snatchers and a group of people he didn't know but it was obvious the Death Eaters had superior numbers.

One look at his family and he nodded. Snatching a worn-out afghan from the couch, he waved his wand and silently incanted; the afghan glowed a soft blue and everyone crowded in to place a finger on the portkey as Bill gave hurried instructions: "The moment we land, everyone drop and roll away - check for targets and fire. No Stunners - we can't afford anyone recognizing us ... Cutters, Reductos, Confringos, ok?"

He hesitated before continuing. "Hex to kill. OK?"

The family nodded; no one noticed Ginny behind Charlie nodding in agreement, all of them - including Molly - looking serious and deadly. With a final nod, Bill activated the portkey, only to hear Molly screaming, "Ginny!" but it was too late.

Seconds later, the Weasleys found themselves in a clearing several miles from Muriel's house - as briefed, they all dropped to the ground and started rolling away as a barrage of spells flew over their heads - immediately after, they were up and fighting back, curses flying in retaliation...

Ginny's favourite Bat-Bogey Hex was among these - no matter Bill's instructions, she just couldn't find it in herself to fire Reductos or Cutting Curses blindly. She dodged a spell - one part of her mind telling her to move and she did - jumping up and running for a large tree, spinning around behind it and leaning back, breathing hard, wand out and adrenaline pumping - freezing at the sight of a huge man trying to pull up his pants. Beneath the trunk-like legs of the Snatcher, she saw someone with torn robes, bruised face and blonde hair and her vision tunnelled in a red abd black haze as a roaring sound came to her ears...

She never knew if she incanted silently or screamed - she blinked and watched with cold detachment as the Snatcher's face exploded, followed by his body flying into the air from her Banishing Charm. Unthinking, Ginny was on her knees beside his victim, a hand running over the other's face and neck, checking for pulse or injuries ... and feeling herself awash in liquid fire as her startled eyes met and held the shocked eyes of Susan Bones.

Ginny vaguely heard Charlie and Bill calling for her; she knew she had answered when both were at her side and checking her over for injuries but she didn't notice. She couldn't hear them talking above the rushing of blood in her ears and the feeling of warmth, protectiveness and - familiarity? - coursing through her as she held Susan's hand.

It was Fleur's hand on her shoulder that made her blink and look around, realizing the battle was over and they had to get out. Susan had fallen unconscious and Ginny watched quietly as Fleur conjured a stretcher that Bill turned into a portkey for home. Her family gathered around and touched the stretcher - she never surrendered her grip on Susan's hand as they portkeyed away...

End Flashback

Ginny shook her head as the memories faded.

She knew what had happened - she'd heard it often enough growing up, heard it again and again ad nauseum … especially in the summers since she started Hogwarts...

A soul bond.

It was myth and legend, something girls giggled about as they grew up while boys scoffed … it was a story every magical child grew up with at the knees of nannies or mothers - and something that she'd been told to expect the first time she touched Harry Potter.

It was why she was so excited to meet him when the Twins came down from the Express the year Ron went to Hogwarts to tell them that they'd met Harry Potter - all she needed, she thought, was a chance to shake his hand so the soul bond could form ... but it was not to be. Her mother comforted her as they went home, promising her that there would be other chances, other opportunities...

She still flushed with embarrassment every time she remembered that first summer when Harry visited the Burrow - no matter the myriad opportunities, her courage always failed her - but then again, she was going to Hogwarts soon and there would be more than enough chances there, right?

Only to be saddened when, at the end of her first year, she realized that she hadn't felt any such spark, as she'd been led to expect. Harry had held her briefly when she finally woke up from the diary's enchantments; he'd been holding her hand as they left the Chamber of Secrets ... but there was nothing.

Not a thing.

It was disappointing. It was devastating. To have dreamed of something for so long only to realize that it hadn't happened ... Molly told her that she must have overlooked it, or maybe didn't notice it because she'd been so distraught from the stress of that whole year. Deep down, however, she wondered. There'd been more than enough opportunity to touch Harry then and in the years since … he was, after all, her brother's best friend and he'd always treated her kindly…

But there had never been that `spark,' there had never been that tingling sensation that had been dinned into her growing up … until she came to believe that it was not to be. She'd given up in her third year - the year of the Tri-Wizard tournament, when she realized that Hermione would always be his best and truest friend … when she realized that Harry would always see her as Ron's little sister … it was when Neville shyly asked her to be his date for the Yule Ball that she realized there were others out there …someone out there with whom she would feel that spark of legend.

How in Hades was she to know that that all-elusive `spark' would flame into being with a girl?

She denied it, of course - kept rejecting it in the days and weeks after Susan's rescue, as she tended to Susan's injuries with a single-minded devotion that she hadn't felt for anyone else in her life ... not even for Harry Potter.

Ginny sighed - thankful that Molly never realized the reason she'd spent so much time with Susan. She'd fed the older girl as her injuries healed, helped her change clothes or assisted her when she walked to the toilet, read at Susan's bedside while the older witch slept and always, always, she would sneak a squeeze of the hand, or brush Susan's hair from her face - even hugging her whenever Susan had a nightmare...

The problem was, she was too scared to open up about it ... too terrified of her feelings whenever she thought of Susan ... and too happy when she realized that Susan seemed to be reciprocating her feelings. They'd never talked about what happened that day in the clearing - but Ginny noticed that Susan would lean into her as she was helped from bed to bathroom, that Susan would always sit beside her at the dinner table and they'd frequently brush their elbows, hands or knees against each other...

They'd talked about schoolwork, Susan speaking fondly about Herbology and Charms while Ginny shared her fascination with Ancient Runes and both laughed about Divination. They'd shared their dreams: Susan's of settling down to a quiet life after the war, raising children while Ginny talked of Quidditch, of playing for the Holyhead Harpies and England at the World Cup ...

And they'd talked about Harry. There was no avoiding it. Harry had been a part of their lives for years, both having grown up with legends of The Boy Who Lived and then being schoolmates and friends with him. Susan was understandably curious - no matter that she was Harry's year mate and a founding member of the DA, Harry had always been a closed book to her. Ginny, on the other hand, regaled the older witch with the `inside story' on many of Harry's adventures - but as the stories unfolded, she became uneasy.

She realized she just did not know Harry James Potter as well as she thought she did. Many of the tales she'd regaled Susan with were second-hand, stories that Hermione told her during the summers they'd spent together at the Burrow or Grimmauld. Other things though...

She finally told Susan about her first kiss with Harry, describing it in exacting detail - her excitement at winning the game for Gryffindor; the celebration in their common room; Harry entering after his detention with Snape; seeing him come into the room and feeling a wave of emotion coursing through her which seemed to `push' her towards him and made her throw her arms around him; watching his lips as they descended and finally met hers...

`It felt like a dream,' Ginny remembered telling Susan late one night. `After so long, after I'd all but given up on him, it was finally happening ... I was kissing Harry Potter, I was finally kissing Harry Potter. It was my dream fulfilled...'

Ginny shook her head. Looking back at that kiss now ... she had to wonder why it felt like a badly written romance straight out of Witch Weekly. There was nothing, once again, of the sparks that she'd expected to feel, nada of the trail of liquid fire that she was told she'd encounter ... nothing like the warmth and comfort she felt as she told the tale to Susan, who was holding her hand as she spoke.

She felt ... detached from the whole thing, almost as if it had happened to someone else - or to some minor character in an adventure story, brought in to give the hero a `romantic' interlude. And, if she was honest with herself, the weeks after that kiss felt exactly the same - it was as if everything that had happened after was happening to someone else.

That, she told Susan, was why it was so easy to let go of Harry after Dumbledore's funeral. She'd put up token resistance then, mainly because it was expected of her. No one gave up a relationship with the Boy-Who-Lived without a fight, after all - but surprisingly, it hadn't hurt as much as she expected it to be.

Even their `encounter' at the Burrow on Harry's birthday felt the same way - it had all the air of a Confunded writer beating a deadline and coming up with a half-baked plot …

And that, she told herself now, was why she was in a towering rage when Ron started spouting off about Susan. It wasn't because of a love potion directed at Ron; it wasn't because the potion was aimed at Harry - it was because Susan did it.

Susan, who shared her deepest thoughts and dreams; Susan who listened to her doubts and feelings; Susan, to whom she'd confided that she wasn't sure of her feelings for Harry.

Susan, to whom she felt a constant tugging at her mind and heart.

She stood up abruptly - she had to find her. She had to know why ... why would Susan do that to her? Why?

With a deep breath, she was moving - face seemingly carved in stone, eyes glittering with seemingly feral rage but were actually tears, fists clenched as she ran, feet moving automatically as if they knew where she had to go ... unaware that behind her, the disillusioned figures of Bill and Fleur were following ...

***

Private Dining Room, Ministry of Magic Cafeteria

Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt sat like an impassive ebony Buddha at the end of `his' table in the Ministry's private dining room, the remnants of a working lunch in front of him, listening intently as Hermione told her tale and placed documents and pictures on the table.

He stirred and looked through the documents and pictures presented, frowning at the red-lettered Ministry parchment and glancing at the lurid picture of `Ron' and `Hermione' that the teens had focused on. Silently casting a charm, he nodded as the family ring came into focus.

"That's the Malfoy family ring, all right," he said. The teens slumped in their seats - suspicions confirmed. One mystery down.

He then picked up the muggle contract and waved his wand - watched impassively as the paper gave a soft blue glow which quickly dissipated, shook his head as the magical document turned blue in its turn. The bold, red `DENIED' in large letters remained on the magical contract, however, and he frowned.

"They're authentic - both of them," he proclaimed, and proceeded to explain at seeing their puzzled looks. "The Ministry doesn't advertise it but Gretna Green is one of the few places in the United Kingdom where a muggle wedding is granted automatic recognition in the wizarding world - making it legal in both worlds."

He held the muggle document up. "The Ministry of Magic provides the `muggle' marriage contracts for Gretna Green. They're enchanted with watermarked runes that interact with the magic of the wedded couple and the magical witnesses -" He smiled at the calculating look on Hermione's face and nodded before she could ask, "Yes, Hermione - that's why wizards or witches in a muggle ceremony require two magical witnesses.

"The magic of the witnesses and the witch or wizard getting married trigger the runes which send the information by magical means to the Ministry's Central Records where the names, dates and signatures are imprinted on the Magical Registry; a copy of the contract is then generated and ready for pick-up by the couple or their proxies."

"Wouldn't the magical signatures of polyjuiced people show up on the contracts?"

Kingsley shook his head. "No, it doesn't - there's no real defence against polyjuice, as you know. You use a bit of the person being `copied' as the final ingredient … that transfers the magical signature of the person to the one using the potion. The reason why the transformation lasts only an hour is because the magical `bit' deteriorates and the transformation ends."

He continued, "There's no way that Albus would have known that Crouch Junior was impersonating Moody - not unless Albus was actively using Legilimens then but I doubt he even bothered. Alastor was a Master Occulumens; besides, from what I understand, the fake Moody never spent much time with Albus or the others … everyone just assumed it was Alastor being his normal, paranoid self."

"So," Hermione said, "anyone can grab a few hairs, polyjuice himself or herself into someone else, get married in the muggle or magical world … and the marriage is considered legal? That's … that's insane!"

The Minister of Magic sighed. "There's no law against making or using polyjuice. The problem is that it is supposed to be so difficult to brew" - his eyebrows quirked at the snorts from Harry and Hermione; Sirius had told him about that - "given the time needed for proper brewing and the rarity of ingredients, as well as the controls imposed on those same ingredients ... the Wizengamot never bothered to impose sanctions."

He held up his hand before Hermione could go into a rant. "Let's take it one at a time. First, there are sanctions for impersonating people - whether by polyjuice, glamour or a Metamorphmagus - but only if you can prove nefarious intent, as well as an intent to harm or defraud. Otherwise, it will be considered a prank and the offender gets a slap on the wrist."

Shacklebolt continued, "In this case, it is common knowledge that you and Ronald were a couple during your last year at Hogwarts. What's to stop the Malfoys from claiming that they simply wanted to `push' you to the next logical step and get married? By now, everyone knows that you and Ron were with Harry most of last year, doing whatever it was that needed doing to defeat Riddle."

He watched as Hermione deflated and added, "Finally, there is the matter of this." He held up the magical marriage contract. "Since it's been `denied' by some higher power we are not aware of, there's no `case.' As I said, it moves from being a nefarious plot to a prank."

"But what if the magical contract wasn't denied? That means that I'm going to be married, legally and magically, to Ronald!" She shuddered at that.

The Minister sighed and braced himself before responding. "And where's the `harm' in that, Hermione?"

He held up a large hand at the teen's outraged face - and shuddered at the piercing, death glare directed at him. "This is the magical world, Hermione! Arranged marriages are legal, people measure a family's status by the size of the bride's dowry - and look!"

He waved the Daily Prophet in her face. "Our whole world is celebrating! `First marriage after Victory'!" he parroted the headlines. He took a deep breath before sighing and continuing. "Most people will think that you're one lucky witch - you're a muggle-born who's marrying into one of the oldest pureblooded families in Britain! One who has fought against Voldemort himself! You should be honoured that you're marrying Ron!"

He cringed at the murderous looks on the teens' faces. "Don't look at me like that, guys - I'm just repeating the party line! Never mind your feelings, whether you have them or not, for Ron - you're marrying one of the heroes of the War, who's a cinch for an Order of Merlin First Class ... you're set for life, Hermione."

"And if I don't want to marry Ronald Bilius Weasley?" Hermione spat. She was about to continue her rant when Harry's hand on her arm stopped her.

"Hermione," she turned to look into Harry's concerned eyes. "It did not happen! You said it yourself - hell, even the Minister for Magic has said it! You. Are. NOT. Married. How or why, we don't know ... but the fact remains - your `marriage' is DENIED. Nothing can change that."

It may have been the strength of Harry's declaration, or the calming effect of his hand on her arm that deflated Hermione's incipient rant. She slumped in her chair, unable to control the brief shakes that her body went through at having dodged that particular bullet. How or why it happened, she didn't know; the fact remained, however, that Harry was right - she was not married to Ronald Weasley.

And for that she should be grateful, right? Which, however, left one major issue still on the table - why? What was all this for? Why target her and Ron? Unless … her eyes narrowed as she watched Harry turn towards Shacklebolt. Was Harry the Malfoys' target? She dismissed the idea immediately only to have it come back to her even more forcefully - true, it would have caused a rift in the Trio but she was confident enough in her friendship with Harry to know that a falling-out between them wouldn't last.

Yes, it would cause Harry emotional distress but it wouldn't last. Harry was a past expert at keeping his emotions hidden … sure, it would have hurt a lot for a while but Harry would eventually get over it. Or would he? Her eyes narrowed even further at that thought.

Was that the Malfoy game plan? Get her and Ron `married,' causing Harry emotional distress - which would lead to him leaving Britain altogether? Or … what if she refused to accept what happened? Hell - if Kingsley or anyone else told her there was no getting out of this, she'd be on the next plane going anywhere away from Britain. Shite, she thought, she'd even apparate across the Channel in a heartbeat, seek asylum in France or Ireland before making her way to Australia and her parents - and from there, either jump to New Zealand or make her way to America or Antarctica … anywhere as long as it was far, far away from Ronald Bilius Weasley.

And Harry would be right beside her - or chasing after her. Not to make her go back - of that, she was sure. He'd choose exile from Britain rather than watch her be married to Ron - or was that her ego talking? She shook her head to clear her thoughts, in time to hear Harry's question to Kingsley: "Which still doesn't answer the question of why Malfoy would go through all this. What's his purpose? What's his plan - there's got to be something!"

There was no response from the Minister - and the two teens slumped in their chairs, unconsciously reaching out for the other's hand as their exhausted brains kept trying to find a reason for Lucius Malfoy's actions but coming up with nothing.

Neither teen noticed that the Minister seemed to be fascinated by the magical marriage contract with its large red "DENIED" stamped across the parchment - a small frown on his impassive face the only indication that there was something going on in his mind.

There was something niggling at the back of Shacklebolt's mind ... his comment about arranged marriages had sparked an errant memory buried from years of investigations and assignments ... something that he'd seen years ago during one of his summer internships wt the Ministry when he was assigned as an assistant to the Head Archivist, doing menial tasks like going out into muggle London for curry or fish and chips, putting away ledgers and parchments or releasing these to the witches and wizards asking for copies of their OWLs or NEWTs, as well as the occasional birth or wedding certificate -

"OW!" Shacklebolt was on his feet, rubbing his shin from where he'd slammed into the table's edge as he jumped up, the memory from that long ago day when he was a mere lad who'd joined his father - a minor clerk in the Ministry's Archives section - for the day and found himself listening in wide-eyed fascination at the scream fest engaged in by two dowagers from prominent families as they argued over a magical contract such as this...

He turned to the two teens in the room with him, both on their feet, back-to-back with wands out, scanning for a threat. He grinned at the sight and shook his head, gave a gentle cough and carefully said, "I think the two of you should go with me ... If I'm right..."

He trailed off as Harry and Hermione glanced at each other and nodded; Hermione waving her wand and neatly arranging the papers and photographs into an envelope she conjured. It took a moment more before Shacklebolt realized that Harry and Hermione were looking expectantly at him and he quickly set off, pausing at the door to unseal it and usher the teens through.

Hermione stopped at the door, and the Minister responded before she could even give voice to her question: "The Department of Mysteries, Hermione ... if I'm right, there's something there we need to see."

With that, he turned and set off; the two teens could only shrug at each other before they took off to catch up with him.

***

The Astronomy Tower, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Susan Bones stood on the ramparts of the Astronomy Tower, glazed eyes staring vacantly at nothing; gaunt face expressionless, showing no sign that she felt the cool breeze from the forest or the heat from the sun that was high above her.

Susan Bones was waiting, and ready to be set free.

She hoped that her latest action would do the trick … she prayed that even now, a righteously angry Harry Potter or self-righteous Molly Weasley was charging up the stairs, wand out and ready - they had the right to take their anger out on her for what she'd just done…

She wished it would be quick … that Harry would simply cast his favourite `Expelliarmus' on her, sending her over the ramparts and she would finally escape the Bones' family magic, that accursed thing that she'd been fighting for the better part of two years, ever since that horrible night when she'd come home to see the ring of Aurors around the broken, mangled remains of her Aunt Amelia, leaving her the last of the Ancient and Valiant House of Bones.

She'd floated in a dark cloud for weeks, functioning like a mindless golem even as the people around her watched and worried, even as she constantly assured them that she was all right. She'd finally decided to return to Hogwarts for her sixth year, acting as if nothing happened and showing a stiff upper lip to the school. No one truly realized that she was operating on auto-pilot, her soul lost in a dark, dense fog - until the Splinching accident `woke her up'.

She shivered at the memories - of Twycross rambling on and on about his three Ds; of following instructions without thinking, unheeding of the others around her as they struggled to apparate; of suddenly feeling that uncomfortable sensation of being squeezed through a small tube - and she found herself across the room, only to fall over screaming as she realized she'd left her leg behind.

It was bedlam all around her but all she remembered was the shock, the pain, the fear tearing at her throat - the emotions finally breaking through the depression that had surrounded her for so long. She could hear the teachers putting her back together, Madame Pomfrey examining her, Twycross' dispassionate voice above the hubbub -

She fled the Great Hall as soon as her leg was restored, unable to continue the lesson - only to slam into someone in the corridor outside, bringing both of them down on the cold stone floor. She was on her back, staring at the ceiling when a concerned voice broke through her addled mind, and she saw a slim hand in front of her.

Unthinking, she grasped the offered hand tightly - only to nearly scream as she felt a magical pulse travel up her arm and careen around her body. She saw a look of shock and surprise in the eyes of the person holding her hand - they immediately recognized each other before the other person let go, nearly stumbling backward in confusion before turning around and fleeing … leaving her on the floor, shocked, confused and scared.

As a pureblood, Susan had grown up with the oral traditions of the magical world - its legends, tales and `old wives tales.' She knew what had happened but refused to accept it - not so much because it was a `legend' but because of the identity of the person who'd touched her. That was impossible, her mind kept telling her … but her heart would not be denied.

She finally plucked up the courage to approach the person who'd begun haunting her dreams and fantasies - and found to her surprise that Ginny Weasley was also going through the same `crisis' she did and, like her, did not know what to make of it. They'd agreed to take things slow - Ginny, like her, was a pureblood who also realized what had happened … but Ginny was hemmed in by expectations, by commitments to school, to family, to Magical society as a whole …

Susan didn't feel the tears falling down her cheeks as she stood on the Astronomy Tower, her mind running furiously over the memories of the previous year - was it only last year? Susan shook her head - of course, she realized, it was her sixth year at Hogwarts and it was just over a year ago. So much had happened in the months since…

Flashback

The days and weeks passed and they continued their innocuous `meetings' under the guise of tutorials in the library - growing ever closer and becoming more confident in what they had … helping the person she now knew to be her `other half' find the courage and strength to face up to what they were feeling … until the day she realized that she'd been living in a dream world.

The news was shocking, to say the least - Ronald Weasley had been poisoned, first by a love potion intended for Harry, and then by tainted mead in Slughorn's office. Susan knew that Ginny would be going spare by now - she may not have liked her brother that much, but he was still family, and she waited anxiously at `their' table in the library, ready to comfort and support her friend and - dare she say it? - her soul mate.

She wanted to go to the Hospital Wing to see how Ginny was holding up, but she held herself back - she had no reason to go there, no reason to be with her. She stayed in the library and listened to the rumours, heard that the Weasleys had arrived in force and was glad that Ginny would have some emotional support but wishing she was the one giving it. She stuck it out there, waiting until Madam Pince finally chased her out. She'd been tempted to pass by the Hospital Wing but stopped herself - she could not barge into a family affair...

She was back to the library the following day, waiting - her smile glowing as she spotted Ginny coming in but her smile faded as she watched Ginny pass by without even a glance, simply pass by looking confused - as if she had an appointment with someone that she couldn't remember. She couldn't stand the confused look on the flame-haired witch's face and approached - only to step back as she saw the brown eyes that were so full of life and mischief looking at her blankly, without recognition or memory...

Susan fled - ran to her dormitory and threw herself on her bed in tears. She knew what had happened - one did not grow up with the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement without learning some things - Ginny had been obliviated. Who - she had her suspicions. Why -

she had her misgivings.

As the weeks passed, she watched the Gryffindors closely - and felt the pain stabbing as the actuations of her Gryffindor year-mates confirmed her suspicions. She wondered how she could have missed the signs - but realized that there was nothing she could do. There were forces at work beyond her capability to fight. If Aunt Amelia were alive, Susan could have approached Magical Britain's top law enforcer with her suspicions, but with Aunt Amelia gone...

Besides, she thought, if the Boy-Who-Lived and the Smartest-Witch-In-A-Generation didn't see what was going on around them, who was she to intervene?

It was then that Susan made her decision: it was time to seek out her family, to join them on the `next great adventure' rather than stick around where her dreams would never be fulfilled.

But the family magic kicked in and stopped her from ending her life.

She kept trying but the family magic kept frustrating her - until Kingsley Shacklebolt and several Aurors showed up at her home with the news that Voldemort had taken over the Ministry and they were there to get her to safety.

She refused. She told them that her family hadn't run away when the going got tough - and she would be damned if she would be the first - or the last - Bones to take the easy path. It was only in the deepest part of her mind that she admitted the truth: the family magic may stop her from killing herself ... but it couldn't stop someone else from killing her, right?

And so it was that Susan Amelia Bones, Scion of the Ancient and Valiant House of Bones, became a part of Magical Britain's resistance movement. She'd joined the Aurors who were loyal to her Aunt, and they soon became a highly efficient team - ambushing Snatchers, rescuing muggleborn families and getting them to safety, doing their best to fight back against the darkness...

Until one day when they got into a running battle with a large Death Eater group near Ottery St. Catchpole led by Derrick Bole, the former Slytherin Beater, who recognized her and ordered his men to Stun rather than kill her...

She felt the cold-water shock of being enervated only to gasp in pain as a boot slammed into her ribs, saw Bole's savage grin as he started tearing at her clothes ... kicking and fighting only to feel his fist slam into her jaw … watching in bemused detachment as he dropped his pants, her vision greying out - and almost jumping out of her skin as Bole's face exploded into red mist an instant after an enraged voice roared, "Reducto - Expelliarmus!"

The shock was enough to keep her from blacking out completely. She felt someone kneeling beside her and soft fingers touching her face - her vision suddenly clearing as familiar sensations coursed through her battered body and she stared in shock at the sight of well-remembered eyes staring at her in surprise, eyes she'd given up on ever seeing again months before…

End Flashback

Susan slammed her fists on the rampart, a keening scream of pain leaving her lips. If anyone needed proof that Fate's a damned sadistic bitch, she thought, that was it …

She'd spent days recovering from her injuries - unfortunately, they'd had no access to Healers or the more complex medical potions - but her recovery was swift, mainly because Ginny was constantly at her side. It seemed as if they'd fallen back into their days at the library except that Ginny had no memory of those but it didn't matter - they were building a whole new set of memories together, although neither one opened up about what happened that day in the clearing.

When the call came over Ginny's enchanted Galleon, they'd both gone to Hogwarts. There was no way she would miss the final encounter with those who'd made her lose her family - as Ginny could not avoid wanting to settle scores with the monster who'd tormented her in first year. When the battle was joined, they found themselves separated - when the struggle ended, they'd found their way to each other...

And as before, Fate - that friggin' bitch - had snatched her dreams away from her once again.

She heard the door to the tower slamming open and Susan braced herself, prepared for the curse that would send her hurtling to her death - only to freeze as a familiar but angry voice came from behind her: "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO DO, SUSAN? AFTER EVERYTHING THAT'S HAPPENED TO US..."

As Susan Bones faced the red-faced, extremely angry Ginevra Molly Weasley, she could hear hysterical laugher in her mind as Fate got back at her for being called a bitch…

***

DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES, Ministry of Magic

For some reason, the corridors of the Ministry of Magic were empty when Shacklebolt and his companions stepped out, a fact that both Harry and Hermione were grateful for. They'd had enough of adulation and congratulations; all they wanted at his moment was an answer to the latest mystery besetting them - that, and a chance to fade quietly away into anonymity.

A short pause while Shacklebolt dropped by his office to tell Natalie where he was going, and the three were on their way to the magical lifts, the corridors echoing softly with their footsteps as they walked.

The silence was soon broken, however, by Hermione's voice as she hesitantly asked, "Minister?"

"Kingsley, please, Hermione … you and Harry have both earned the right."

Hermione bowed her head in acceptance, before continuing, "Why are we going to the Department of Mysteries?"

The arrival of the lift prevented the Minister of Magic from immediately responding; as soon as the three were onboard and the lift was descending, Shacklebolt's deep voice reverberated in the small space. "There is a room in the Department of Mysteries that is kept locked at all times, accessible only to the Head of Magical Archives or, in the event of his death or incapacity, to the Minister of Magic. It contains something that is, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there ..."

"WHAT?"

Ruptured eardrums from a bellow in a tight space was prevented only because the lift doors opened in that precise moment; Harry's shout was loud enough to cause their ears to ring for a moment as Shacklebolt and Hermione looked at him in shocked surprise. The sound of the doors closing, however, shook them out of their momentary stupor; without a word, Shacklebolt and Hermione stepped out of the lift, the latter dragging a reluctant Harry Potter with her.

In the corridor outside the lift, Harry slumped against the wall, Hermione at his side with an arm around him, almost as if she was trying to hold him up which was almost the truth. No words had been spoken since Harry's outburst; the Minister's raised eyebrow directed at him sufficed for that, however.

Harry took a deep breath and released a ragged sigh; another breath and he answered their non-verbalized questions: "Dumbledore told me something similar ... about a locked room in the Department of Mysteries that, he said, `contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature'. He ... he said that the room contained `the power Voldemort knows not'."

"When did he tell you this, Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. "It was the night ... the night Sirius went through the veil." He didn't respond to the sharply drawn breaths of his companions as he continued in a flat voice, his mind and eyes seemingly focused on something only he could see. "He'd sent me back to his office after ... after he drove Voldemort away from me ... it was then that he told me the prophecy ... about me being the only one who can beat the wanker - and about me having `the power he knows not'."

He shook his head as if to clear it. "He never mentioned the room again after that ... strange, now that I think about it. If that room had something that could have helped me ... why didn't he show it to me? Why talk about it and then forget it?"

He turned intensely green eyes on the frowning face of the Minister of Magic as he asked, "What is in that room, Shack?"

It took a moment for the Minister to marshal his scattered thoughts and bring them to some sort of order. He had to agree with Harry - if Albus knew about the room and its contents (a foregone conclusion, the former Auror thought, as Albus had been the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot), then why hadn't he brought Harry to the room? True, the room was always kept locked but Harry - as did every magical person in Britain - had every right to ask to be shown to the room. All he had to do was to present himself to the Head of Archives and make a request which the latter could not deny; as the `Head' at the time was Elphias Doge, there should have been no problem with bringing Harry in to have a look.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, realizing that Harry and Hermione were focused on him, waiting for his response. "It contains a bound list that has existed for centuries called The Book of Souls."

He held up his hands to forestall the sickened or outraged reactions of the two teens, knowing what their reaction would be to the mere mention of `souls' - especially now, after having dealt with Voldemort's perverted use of Horcruxes. "It's not what you think!" He paused for a second to let them settle down before continuing, "It is a listing of destined couples - soul mates if you will."

"Soul mates?"

Shacklebolt smirked. As expected, it was Harry who asked the question while Hermione frowned; he could almost see the mental gears moving as she tried to access something from her impressive memory. Before she could open her mouth, Shacklebolt continued, "It means fated couples, Harry. Destiny or Fate or God or whatever decided once someone is born that he or she will be partnered for life with someone else ... that the two of them were meant to be together. I think the muggles sometimes call it a marriage made in heaven."

"Marriage?" Shacklebolt smirked; as expected, Harry looked absolutely gob-smacked while Hermione had apparently recovered from the surprise and, with narrowed eyes and furrowed forehead, was already analysing the implications of the revelation. Before he could take a step, however, Harry's hand on his arm stopped him and he turned back to Harry's question: "What does this have to do with Hermione?"

"He thinks that either Ron or I am soul-bound to someone else, Harry." She shook her head at Harry's confused look and continued. "Think about it, Harry - the only reason for the denial of the Malfoy's faked marriage contract is if magic itself rejected it. Which means that either Ron or I am married - or soul bound - to someone else."

It took a second for the light of realization to shine in Harry's eyes; he glanced at Shacklebolt for confirmation and the latter smiled and nodded, saying, "What she said."

He turned back to the corridor with a smirk, just stopping himself from saying, "You like that, don't you?" He had his suspicions but like a true Auror, he preferred to deal with facts and this excursion would prove or disprove his hypothesis. He walked briskly down the corridor only to stop abruptly half-way down; his action so abrupt that the two teens following him nearly crashed into his broad back.

Drawing his wand and concentrating carefully, he quickly tapped the wall from which four musical tones sang out.

Harry and Hermione gaped and glanced at each other, eyebrows raised - did Shacklebolt just tap out the recognition sequence from `Close Encounters of the Third Kind'? Before they could ask, a door appeared - much like the door leading to the Room of Requirements at Hogwarts - Shacklebolt grasped the handle, turned it and pushed the door open into a torch lit chamber.

They entered and the teens glanced around: it was a relatively small room, even smaller than the Gryffindor common room with only an ancient stone dais in the middle of the space. Resting on it, as the Minister had said, was a large, antiquated book with yellowing parchment pages surrounded by a soft, ethereal glow.

They approached the book silently, with Hermione nearly bowling the Minister over in her eagerness to take a look - and blinking in confusion when they saw the cracked, blank cover of the book covered in leather of some unidentified animal. Hermione was sure of one thing - this wasn't `ordinary' leather from some bovine; neither was it dragon hide although Harry couldn't help but compare it to basilisk skin.

A soft cough from Shacklebolt and the teens stepped back; the Minister smirked to himself and proclaimed, "Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt in the absence of Dolores Umbridge, Head of Magical Archives."

The faint glow surrounding the book seemed to intensify and the teens gasped as golden runes appeared on the cover of the ancient tome - runes so ancient that even Hermione couldn't recognize them. Before either could ask, the runes seemed to dissolve and run together, only to form words in an elegant Spencerian script:

THE BOOK OF SOULS

Welcome, Seeker of Truth and Fate

Asking to Find Thy Soul's True Mate

If, perchance, you find that here

Then hold them close forever more

If your names, however, are not within

Despair not -

Continue seeking for a heart so dear

Love is love whether soul bound or not

But for those who seek to sunder the bond

A warning here is given clear:

A cursed life awaits the one who tries

To rip apart united souls.

The teens looked at each other with eyebrows raised; Harry was just able to stop himself from making a sarcastic comment about the writer's ability to rhyme. Another soft cough from Shacklebolt and they stepped aside; in a commanding voice, the Minister of Magic said, "SHOW ME HERMIONE JANE GRANGER!"

The book's ethereal golden glow became even brighter as the Minister fell silent; the three stood awed as the book seemingly came to life - the pages riffling swiftly as if an unseen hand was paging rapidly through it. Soon enough, the intense glow faded and the three eagerly approached to take a look.

Only to blink as they confronted a glowing page devoid of anything save a seeming smudge on the upper corner of the blank page.

***

The Astronomy Tower, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Susan froze. Of all the scenarios she'd planned for, seeing Ginny was not one of them. The irony of the situation and Fate's evident sense of humour grabbed her and she let out a bark of laughter: a high, near-hysterical laugh that had Ginny stepping back, fingering the wand in her pocket, ready to stun or summon in case the seemingly crazed witch decided to take a runner or jump ...

"What d'you think I was supposed to do, Ginevra? You're right - after EVERYTHING we've been through … it's over now, EVERYTHING IS OVER NOW!

"The bastard's dead, he who killed my mum and dad, he who tortured and mutilated Aunt Amelia … Voldemort's dead, gone, ashes … and now we are expected to pick up our lives and continue where we left off?

"And what life am I supposed to pick up now? I'm the last of the Bones family … the only one left after everyone else has been sacrificed to this DAMNED WAR!"

"Susan..." Ginny softly called, trying to calm the other witch, but it only seemed to fuel the other witch's rage. Susan turned angry eyes on the small redhead, who stepped back in fear.

"DON'T YOU `SUSAN' ME, GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY! AND DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT `EVERYTHING' WE'VE BEEN THROUGH!" Susan paused, her breathing uneven as she visibly tried to compose herself. "I've been watching, Ginevra … watching as you `consoled' Harry."

Susan's voice turned harsh, edgy, sarcastic: "You were holding his hand, rubbing his back … doing everything but make goo-goo eyes at him. I realized what was happening … you were going to marry him, fulfil your mother's dreams of One Big Happy Family … have lots of children while playing Quidditch ..."

She broke off with a sob as she turned away, "While I grew old and senile, pining away for a lost love ..." Susan didn't see the signs of an incipient Weasley blow-up in the steadily rising tide of red suffusing Ginny's face. "I didn't want that … I couldn't take that … I sneaked into your parents' rooms and found what I needed … switched the `tea' when I left the Hall while you were `consoling' Harry..."

The building Weasley tantrum abruptly changed direction as Ginny parsed Susan's words - "You SNEAKED into MY parents' ROOMS? WHY?"

"Where do you think I got the potion, Ginevra?" Susan snarked back. "I knew your mother had them … I knew she'd be trying to give them to Harry when Ron and Hermione disappeared!"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

Susan rolled her eyes. "Oh please! Don't play dumb with me, Ginevra Weasley! Where do you think the twins got their recipe for their products? Love potions are restricted … you won't find them in just any potions textbook. Where do you think Ronald got his potions? Not from the Twins' shop, that's for sure - they don't last that long…"

Ginny blinked. "Ron? What does Ron have to do with this?"

"Use your head," an exasperated Susan said. "How do you explain a boy who's been nothing but insulting to Hermione Granger since starting Hogwarts, who couldn't get his own date for the Yule Ball, who has the `emotional range of a teaspoon' in fifth year, who suddenly finds himself sucking face with Lavender Brown? Ask yourself this - why should Lavender - quiet, ditzy, Divination-obsessed Lavender - suddenly go all gaga over someone she never gave a fig for in the last six years?"

"Why shouldn't she?" Ginny shouted back. She had totally forgotten her original intent in seeking Susan, responding as only a Weasley could to an attack on her family. "It's not as if he's still a git -" she shook her head at Susan's derisive snort - "he's a hero, Susan! He won the Quidditch Cup for us in his fifth year; he was with us in the Ministry when Harry faced down You-Know-Who, he, he -"

"And is all that enough to change Lavender Brown?"

The question stopped Ginny cold. She'd known Lavender for years - while the older girl could be ditzy, obsessed with all things `girly' and an incorrigible gossip, the very last thing she could see Lavender as was to be a fan-girl or a player. She shuddered at the memories of `Won-Won' and Lavender during her fifth year - she'd been tempted, too many times, to hex the both of them for their `displays of affection' that had too often bordered on the obscene and in public at that!

Susan had a point - it was too far out of character for the Lavender Brown she'd known for five years. It was just too abrupt, too sudden even for raging teen hormones to account for. Not even the school's tension and fear as Voldemort stepped up his attacks could account for that … there was simply no way for Lavender, ditzy, girly Gossip Queen Lavender Brown, to have become so … so obsessed with Ronald Bilius Weasley.

Ginny blinked as Susan's angry, sarcastic voice ripped through her: "Tell me why, Ginevra Weasley, why Hermione Granger - the one person who was most loyal to Harry Potter through all our school years - suddenly turn on her best friend? Why should Hermione, who's been Ron's punching bag for years, who couldn't share the same space with Ron without an argument, suddenly become so obsessed with that idiotic, self-centred git? Tell me WHY, Ginny!"

She couldn't answer that. It was something that transcended all logic - and to Hades with all those who thought that Ron and Hermione's arguments masked a raging attraction for each other. She never argued with Harry, or Dean, or Michael or even Neville … her parents never fought the way those two often did - Molly, no matter her overbearing, `my way or the highway' attitude, never openly argued with her dad. Meek, mild Arthur Weasley - it may seem that the Weasley patriarch was a meek lamb to Hurricane Molly but they never argued the way Ron and Hermione did.

Neither did Molly ever belittle Arthur the way Hermione sometimes did when Ron went too far with his thickness - and never once did Arthur ever pick an argument with his wife the way Ron did, just to wind Hermione up.

So why the sudden change in Hermione? And why the sudden anger with Harry over a second-hand book? It wasn't as if Harry was playing with another diary - she shuddered at the memory - and Hermione should have been over the moon when Harry suddenly started getting better at things…

Sudden.

There was that word again … if there was one thing that marked her fifth year, Harry's sixth year, it was that singular word. Everything was so sudden, as if some Divine Author said, "This is how it goes" and everything simply fell into place with no foreshadowing or preparation. Lavender suddenly obsessed with Ron, Hermione suddenly preoccupied with Ron, Harry suddenly fixated with her - and she, after having given up on him, suddenly snogging The-Boy-Who-Lived.

It just all neatly fell into place.

But it couldn't be ... it could not be. Ginny shook her head violently, trying to shake the traitorous thoughts from her mind. Last year was a fluke - last year they were all under so much pressure with the war knocking on the very walls of Hogwarts ... that was the reason why they'd been acting that way, right?

Hormones, she thought - they were letting their hormones get the better of them last year, right? They simply needed to snatch whatever little bit of happiness they could - and if Ron acting like a limpet as he sucked Lavender's face was what was needed to make him happy, he deserved it, right? Never mind if it felt wrong ... if the short weeks spent with Harry as her boyfriend felt so, so wrong...

"Suit yourself." Ginny blinked at Susan's sarcastic tone. "You should have been a Hufflepuff, Ginevra - you're all about loyalty to your family, no matter how wrong they are!"

"DON'T TALK ABOUT MY FAMILY THAT WAY!" Ginny's infamous temper snapped and the roar of her angry, hurt voice would have made her house mascot proud at its power and potency. She stalked forward, hand raised to strike, her red hair blowing in an unseen wind as her magical power seemed to flow through her, her vision tunnelling into a reddish haze -

And she froze at the triumphant look in Susan's eyes.

Like a kitchen sink unplugged, Ginny felt the rage and anger drain from her body - leaving her limp and shaking, wondering what had happened to her and why she should be defending her brother or her family against accusations that - no matter how she tried - seemed to be logical and accurate.

She blinked and dropped her hand to her side - and blinked again as she saw Susan's triumphant look fade away before she turned away with a sob. Unthinking, she approached, and grabbed her friend in a hug learned from years of Molly's rib-breaking embraces. For the briefest of moments, she felt Susan trying to break away before the older witch seemed to collapse into her arms ...

Without a conscious thought, she hugged the other girl even tighter as she buried her face into Susan's chest. She needed this, she thought wildly to herself, she needed Susan ... the unspoken words kept repeating in her bothered mind as two witches kept apart for so long finally acknowledged something that they had never wanted to admit to themselves ...

***

Department of Mysteries, Ministry of Magic

"That's strange," Kingsley Shacklebolt said as he stared at the blank page in front of him before he composed himself and said, in the same commanding tone, "SHOW ME RONALD WEASLEY!"

Nothing. There was no intense glow, no rapid riffling of pages - nothing. It was as if the book was totally inert or simply ignoring them and Shacklebolt's face was furrowed in thought as he murmured yet again, "That's very strange."

"Minister?" Hermione's hushed voice sang out, but she closed her mouth at Shacklebolt's raised arm. Once again, the Minister's commanding voice rang out: "SHOW ME REMUS LUPIN!"

This time the book went through its earlier actuations: the intense, nearly blinding glow, the sound and sight of an unseen hand riffling rapidly through its pages, the glow fading as it stopped at a particular page where the three could see:

REMUS JOHN LUPIN NYMPHADORA TONKS-LUPIN

Born: March 10, 1960 Born: June 25, 1973

First Stage Completed: April 12, 1997

Soul Bond Consummated: June 25, 1997

Married: July 3, 1997

Kingsley Shacklebolt heaved a sigh of relief, his soft murmur of, "Well that works," being drowned by the loud squeal of delight from Hermione, who was bouncing around in glee, clapping her hands and saying, "I knew it! I knew it!"

"What works?"

Harry's confused question had Hermione and Shacklebolt turning to him in surprise; Hermione immediately grabbed his hands and said, "Remus and Tonks, Harry! They're soul-bound ... they're soulmates! No wonder Tonks has been out of sorts..."

"I can see that, Hermione! But Shack was saying something ..." Harry's comment instantly deflated Hermione's glee and she also turned to Shackebolt, whose indulgent smile at her actuations also faded at the intense scrutiny Harry was giving him.

"I was saying the book works, Harry," the Minister said. He took a breath before explaining, "No one really knows how the book works, at least in how it determines and records the birth and significant dates of soulmate's lives.

"Consider Remus and Tonks," he continued, gesturing to the page. "They were born 13 years apart - Remus would already have been in Hogwarts when Tonks was born; did the book record Remus' and Tonks' births at the same time, or did the entry appear when Tonks was born?" He turned back to the book and turned the pages to the last leaf - coincidentally, the page after Remus and Tonks' entry, which was the blank page it had turned to when he said Hermione's name.

"And then there's this blank page ..."

"Oh!" Hermione's exhalation made Harry and Shacklebolt turn to her. Eyes wide, she explained her thoughts: "You're talking about the book's search function, aren't you? If a name mentioned has a soulmate, the book goes into action - the glow, the pages turning ... like what happened with Remus and Tonks. But if it doesn't, like what happened with Ron..."

"Precisely, Hermione. The book's reaction when I asked your name means that there is something - but why should the page be blank? Does that mean you have a soul mate but he's just `waiting in the wings,' so to speak? But if that is so, then why would Lucius Malfoy's magical marriage contract be denied?

"Something's going on here, but I don't know what."

Harry had been examining the page closely as Shacklebolt explained; there was something niggling at his mind about the smudge on the page. There was something familiar about it ... "Uhm, Shack? Would you mind doing that magnification thingy on that smudge?"

The former Auror gave him a sharp look; after a second's pause, he drew his wand and waved it over the smudge - and all three gaped as the smudged ink enlarged and became clearer, with Hermione exclaiming, "Is that a beetle?"

At first glance, it looked like a child's rendition of a mutated beetle: a circle with two branches growing out the top, two paw-like `feet' on either side, and a somewhat thick, squiggly line below. Harry stared at it for a long moment, before he suddenly whispered in shock, "Marauders!"

Shacklebolt and Hermione's gasps of surprise was overridden by Harry's excited voice: "Don't you see it, Hermione? Sirius showed it to us once at Grimmauld - look! The branches are a stag's antlers - my Dad - the circle is a moon for Remus; the paws are a Grim's - Sirius - and the squiggly thing is a tail..."

"Wormtail!" Hermione whispered. Beside her, Shacklebolt was nodding; he was familiar with the legendary Marauders, having been two years behind them in school and was both victim and witness to their mischief, and had learned their identities from the time spent with Siriusin Grimmauld. But what was a Marauder logo doing here - "Elphias!" he murmured, causing the others to turn to him.

He grinned at them. "I don't know if you know it, but Elphias Doge - who was the Ministry's Head Archivist for years - was Remus' godfather."

Harry's bewildered "He was?" was overshadowed by Hermione's reaction: "If he was ... I'm assuming that he was an expert on documents, charms relating to them, and so on?"

At Shacklebolt's nod, she turned to Harry whose face was brightening as he caught up with Hermione's thoughts: "The Marauder's Map!"

Harry drew his wand and laid it on the blank page; a deep breath and he incanted softly, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good!"

The three stepped back as a blue glow surrounded the parchment and words began to form, written in blue ink with a florid, Spencarian script. The three were silent as they read the words:

Dear Harry:

If you're reading this, it means that I'm either on my next `great adventure' with my old friend Albus or I just haven't made it back home yet. Anyway … to the reason why you're here.

As I write this, the wizarding world is falling into darkness once again. Albus has fallen and many of us know that with our world in disarray, the Ministry will soon follow.

As a former Ravenclaw, I have lived by the credo that `knowledge is power' - denying people knowledge reduces their power. I have taken the liberty of compiling certain of your records, as well as those of your friends, and transmitted them by magical means to Hogwarts where they will form part of your student file. These include records from the Wizarding Examinations Authority as well as from the Improper Use of Magic Office, as well as the appropriate entry here.

As a further precaution, I made sure that only a select few can access or even read the records. You or the delightful Ms. Granger should be able to work it out.

It is my pleasure to have been of service to you.

Elphias Doge

Head Archivist

P.S. It has always amused me to think of Severus and You-Know-Who as being on the same side; the muggles would have been shocked since they were bitter enemies, especially if You-Know-Who asks questions of him. ;)

Harry Potter and Kingsley Shacklebolt looked at each other in confusion; Hermione, on the other hand, had a pensive look on her face as she pondered the last line. Especially the last symbols - why would Elphias Doge use a muggle smiley? And why a winking smiley at that? What about the references to Snape and Voldemort? Or should it be Riddle ...

"Harry?" The two men looked at her and she smiled at her best friend. "I think I got it. We should go back to Hogwarts ... the Headmistress should be able to help us find your student file there."

Harry stared at her for a long, silent moment before he nodded and smiled; Shacklebolt, looking from one to the other, also nodded and turned away. Before he could walk back to the door, however, Harry's hesitant voice made him pause. "Uhm ... Minister, err, Shack ... uhm ... can I just ask..."

The Minister glanced at him and nodded; the three turned back to the now-closed book on its pedestal as he said, "You can ask, Harry ... my presence in the room allows it to react to anyone who wishes to ask."

Nodding, Harry opened his mouth but was stopped by Shacklebolt: "Use your mother's maiden name, Harry. It may confuse James' name with yours."

Nodding once again, Harry took a stance and intoned, "SHOW ME LILY EVANS!"

His look of eager anticipation quickly faded to disappointment when the book lay inert in its pedestal. He bit his lip as he stared at it, as if willing it to glow and open but he was to be denied. A pair of arms quickly encompassed him, however, and he found his face buried in the crook of Hermione's neck as her hands rubbed his back gently. Hermione spoke softly, "It's all right, Harry ... remember what the book said - they may not have been soul mates but they each found a heart to hold so dear..."

Harry sniffled as Shack laid a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "She's right, Harry ... I was never close to your parents at school or in the Order but they were the best of friends when I knew them. They were the Golden Couple of Hogwarts when I was going there..."

Harry nodded and pulled away from Hermione's embrace, giving the two a watery smile. Just before he pulled away completely, however, he gave Hermione a small peck on the cheek causing the brunette witch to blush and Shacklebolt to smirk. He somehow doubted the two realized the significance of the fact that the page containing Elphias' note had reacted to Hermione's name but had been addressed to Harry. He felt his suspicions confirmed but, knowing Hermione, the young witch would want to have everything in black and white.

He was about to turn away when a soft cough from Hermione once again stopped him and he turned to nod to the eager witch. Hermione calmed herself down and called out in a clear voice, "SHOW ME ALBUS DUMBLEDORE!"

Shacklebolt blinked when the book again took on the intense glow that he'd become familiar with and the pages started turning over once again. He was about to approach when Harry and Hermione, who had stepped closer to the book, both nearly jumped back with a twin expression of "EWWWW!" on their faces.

Puzzled, he took a look at the opened page and also stepped back in surprise. Truth to tell, he had been expecting something like this, but to have it spelled out so clearly:

ALBUS PERCIVAL WULFRIC BRIAN DUMBLEDORE GELLERT GRINDELWALD

Born: August 8, 1881 Born: July 7, 1883

Died: June 6, 1997 Died: February 14, 1998

First Stage Completed: December 25, 1888

Soul Bond Consummated: January 28, 1889

Carefully, silently, Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt closed the Book of Souls, wondering for a moment just how Elphias Doge was able to remove a page. A part of him cringed at desecrating the magical artefact; another part wanted to protect the name and reputation of the one-time `Leader of the Light.' It wasn't the relationship implied that bothered him - same-sex relationships while frowned upon were not unheard of in the wizarding world - but it was the juxtaposition of names which bothered him.

He shook his head - what the hell was he thinking about? Rita Skeeter's `expose' of Dumbledore with all its half-truths and innuendoes had already besmirched Dumbledore's reputation; this, while a titillating confirmation, added nothing to what was already known. In any case, he doubted that either Harry or Hermione would even talk about this; as far as he was concerned, he wasn't about to tamper with history or its artefacts.

"Ready to go, kids?" he asked. At the nods of the two teens, he turned and led the way from the room; the torches gradually dimming as they walked out the door.

Just as he closed the door of the chamber, a much more intense glow surrounded the Book of Souls as a new page was added, out of sight of anyone.

The Astronomy Tower, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

It was a sight guaranteed to melt even the hardest of hearts, although the follow-up reaction to that first sight would depend entirely on any particular person's open-mindedness and acceptance. Two young witches, one much shorter than the other and with a fiery mane of hair, were locked in a tight embrace, swaying slowly as they held the other closely.

The storm of tears had passed but they both needed the comfort of the embrace as they tried to resolve the issues raised by their earlier war of words. A sniffling Ginny spoke, her voice muffled by her face still ensconced in the tear-soaked robes of Susan Bones: "Why, Susan? After everything we've been through ... why potion Harry? You know as well as I do that using love potions is an Azkaban offense ... why, Susan?"

"Do you think I care, Ginny?" Susan's voice, so emotional and angry, was now flat - lifeless and dull, no hint at all of the raging passion of before. "After everything that has happened, d'you think I really care anymore? Whoever's orchestrating this will have their happy ending - Ron and Hermione will be married, you and Harry will wed; the four of you will meet up on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters to see your kids off to Hogwarts; Harry will be telling his children that he'll be proud of them even if they get placed in Slytherin...

"And I will be gone, just a footnote to the tale." She broke away from Ginny's arms and stared out over the expansive Hogwarts grounds, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I can't go through that again, Ginny, I can't ... I'd rather die than go through that again...

She turned to face Ginny, the sunlight at her back turning her fair hair into a golden halo as tears fell down her sunken cheeks, a pleading tone in her voice. "That's what I was hoping for ... if Harry or your mother found out, they have every right to kill me or send me to Azkaban. Either way I'd be free ... free of this world, free of my memories ... I'd be with Mum and Dad, with Aunt Amelia..."

She felt gentle hands turning her around and brushing the tears from her face, a trail of liquid fire in their wake and her eyes locked with the worried and deeply puzzled eyes of Ginny Weasley. There was no guile in those eyes, no deviousness or deceit - just plain, honest confusion at her ranting. Mixed in with the confusion, however, she could clearly see a compassionate apprehension for her welfare. It was something she'd come to associate with Ginny during the hours spent in the library the year before and again, in the long days and nights of her recovery in Muriel's home. It was something that Susan knew so few people had ever seen in the petite redhead's eyes, an emotion too often kept hidden behind her fiery temper or focused concentration as she worked out a problem or planned another prank.

It was the genuine look of concern for her well-being that had drawn Susan completely out of the dark fog of depression last year - and it was the loss of that `look' when Ginny was obliviated that forced her back into the dark depression that was her constant companion. It was that look which she had come to cherish once again when Fate or whatever chose to throw the two of them together again - and it was the fear of losing that which pushed Susan into rash and unthinking action.

With an inarticulate cry, Susan's hands reached out behind Ginny's head and pulled her in - if she was going to die, it would be with the memory of Ginny's lips on her own that would be the last thought on her mind.

Ginny's mind was a roiling mass of confused thoughts and emotions. On the one hand, her logical mind kept battering at the points that Susan had made, trying feverishly to find a flaw, to find a niche - something on which to build a counterattack against the charges made against her older brother and her mother.

On the other hand, there was the sensation of liquid warmth emanating from where her fingers were touching Susan's face, coursing through her arms and seeming to pool into a tiny ball of flame in her chest before tendrils of fire sprang from the heat in her chest and spread throughout her body - twin lines of flame reaching from her chest, passing through her neck and flowing into her brain.

She felt a pressure on the back of her head and realized, through the fog enveloping her mind, that Susan's hands were there - and felt her head being pulled forward ... she knew what was happening but there was no resistance on her part. There was no way that she would deny her friend - the one she'd killed for, the one she'd nursed to health, the one she cared for so deeply - this one simple wish that she could read in Susan's teary eyes, and Ginny turned her head willingly to meet the lips descending on her.

As soft lips came together, a soft golden glow surrounded them - a glow which grew in seeming intensity the longer their lips were in contact. Neither one noticed Ginny's hair turning into a fiery golden halo that rivalled the sun above them and would have caused anyone looking to turn away lest their eyes melt from the power of the light.

As the kiss deepened and intensified, flashes of memory burned through the blocks imposed on Ginny's mind by a well-practiced hand - sitting in the Hogwarts library with Susan as she studied, at first sitting across from each other but later sitting side by side ... the two of them rolling around laughing over some joke or other, protected from the glares of Madam Pince the librarian by Susan's `cone of silence' - a special spell found only in the Bones' Family grimoire and taught to Susan by her Aunt Amelia ... a dark and depressing afternoon when rains had lashed Hogwarts' walls and she found herself opening up about her fears and concerns ... that one special night, just before the library had closed, when they both realized that they'd been studying while holding hands the whole time ... and that moment when their faces were inches from each other, something within them drawing them closer - only for the mood to be broken by Madam Pince's announcement that the library was about to close...

The memories cascaded through Ginny's mind as their kiss continued and she now realized why so many moments in Muriel's house with Susan seemed to imbue her with a sense of déjà vu - she'd shared many of the same moments and talks with Susan, months before in the Hogwarts library ... at a time before she was Obliviated of her memories ...

Soon enough, air was an issue for the two witches and they broke apart, chests heaving as they sucked in much needed oxygen. Ginny's face was streaked with tears as she stared at her soul mate, her mind battered by the revelations which the bond had burned through - horrified at what had transpired months before, shamed at all the time they had both lost and a slowly building anger at what had been done to them.

"Oh Susan," she whispered and found herself once again in the tight embrace of her best friend and now-revealed soul mate. Ginny buried her face again in Susan's tear soaked robes, and felt Susan's lips on her hair. She felt herself being rocked slowly, comfortingly by the older witch, encouraging words being murmured into her ears ... and felt droplets of tears falling on her hair ...

The two witches had been far too engrossed in each other to realize that a scuffle had broken out to one side of the Astronomy Tower as two disillusioned figures reacted to the scene playing out before them. If the disillusionment had broken, they would have seen an angry quarter-Veela grabbing the collar of her red-faced husband and throwing him bodily back against the ramparts of the tower - thankfully, she still retained enough presence of mind to have cast a cushioning charm against the ancient walls.

Fleur Delacour-Weasley was now sitting astride her husband's chest with her knees pinning his arms down; she was bent over and whispering harshly in his ear, having cast a silencing charm around them as she explained certain facts to Bill.

They were too engrossed in what they were doing - as were Ginny and Susan - to realize that the door leading out from the Astronomy Tower had opened and a short, plump, red-haired witch had stepped through, only to turn away from the blinding glow surrounding the two young witches on the tower.

She turned back when the glow had dissipated and realized who it was who'd been at the centre of that glow and, as had so often happened to her, found her mouth acting before her brain could kick in: "WHAT IN HADES IS GOING ON HERE?"

*****

AUTHOR'S NOTE: My apologies for not having updated sooner. As always, real life had to rear its ugly head; this combined with a confused muse who kept jumping around from one plot bunny to another, conspired to delay this.

I would like to express my thanks and appreciation to hlpur, from whom I borrowed (with her permission) the idea and explanation for soulmates and the Book of Souls. She has written some of the most original and thought-provoking H/Hr tales around; unfortunately, she hasn't been able to update her stories for some time. I hope she can update soon :)

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