When Harry opened his eyes twelve hours later, the first thing that he noticed was a slight pressure resting on his right arm. He sat up gingerly, careful of the misplaced weight on his arm, and craned his neck to look. Harry grinned at the sight of loads of flaming red hair spilling over the bed. Most of the strands had long since escaped the confines of the large clip holding the hair in place; it perfectly covered the face of the person who was currently snoring softly into Harry's arm. Harry at first made no move to wake her, but after a few moments, an uncomfortable stinging started to spread through his arm; it had gone to sleep. Shaking his arm slightly, and mindful of his painful right leg, Harry attempted to wake up the sleeping girl.

"Ginny? Ginny, wake up…"

Ginny muttered something lightly and turned inward, burying her face deeper into the crook of Harry's arm. Harry sighed and gently lowered his other hand to tickle the back of her neck. The reaction was instantaneous; Ginny awakened with an angry growl. She jerked her head up and glared at Harry before remembering where she was. Her gaze softened, and she leaned over to kiss Harry's forehead.

"Hey there…how are you feeling? Are you still in a lot of pain?"

"Well, no more than usual…and it's no where near like it was before…what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be back at Hogwarts, or at the Burrow trying to get some sleep…some comfortable sleep, that is." Ginny shook her head and handed Harry his glasses. He nodded in gratitude and waited for Ginny to answer his question.

"You were in a bad way, Harry…I didn't want to leave you. I'm sure the others would have stayed, but I convinced them to head out. I was so sure I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight…" Ginny's hands went to her hair as she tried to maneuver it back into place. Harry laughed at her efforts.

"I think you're trying to win a losing battle, Ginny…" Harry smiled and trailed off, his eyes going to the small window in his hospital room. His smile faded as his mind turned to the events of the morning. Ginny seemed to sense his train of thought, and she grasped his hand firmly.

"You have nothing to be ashamed about, Harry…no one thinks less of you. In fact, I think that you're really brave-I don't know if I could deal with the constant pain as you have."

Harry slowly turned his eyes back to Ginny. "I should have been able to handle it…it was my fault I fell in the first place-this all seems so stupid! I simply fall, and I'm back to where I was two weeks ago. Is that all it will take? One simple thing, and I'm hurt again." Harry sighed, and turned away. "I don't know if I want to live like that…and it's not fair for you either."

They sat in amicable silence for a time, both digesting the things said and not said. Harry closed his eyes, mentally forming the words to the next question on his mind. It's rare that I think before I speak, Harry thought, but I have to approach this with some…what does Hermione say all the time…tact! I need to approach this with some tact.

"Ginny?"

"Yeah?"

"Where does this leave us?"

Ginny leaned forward a bit in her chair, catching Harry's eyes with her own. "What do you mean?"

Harry sighed. "It seems like…ages ago when we dated, Ginny…and I know that I still have very strong feelings for you…but so much has happened! I'm not the same person I was back at Hogwarts…I think that person died with Dumbledore. I need…to clear the air between us." Harry was silent a moment, giving Ginny a chance to speak. When she did not, Harry began to get nervous. "I'm not sayin' that I don't care about you, Ginny…it's just that I'm not sure I know you…or that you know me." Harry glanced at Ginny desperately. "Please say something, Ginny…I'm sorry…" Ginny looked up at that, and her lips curled into a small smile.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. And you're right…this past year has changed both of us. We need to get to know one another again-we're adults now, Harry. Not kids…although, to be honest, you haven't been a kid in some time." Ginny paused. “So much has happened over this year…”

“I know…I think we’ve both seen too much.”

Ginny snorted. “You more than anyone! I can’t imagine the weight on your shoulders…and now…” Ginny ended her thought as her nose scrunched up as it often did when Ginny thought hard about something. Harry waited patiently, and sure enough, Ginny looked up at him with a very serious expression.

"Do you remember what happened at Hogwarts? The battle, the losses…you leaving?"

Harry frowned as he struggled to remember. "Ginny…I barely remember anything about that day…I can't even remember where it was that Voldemort and I dueled!" Harry's eyes held a far-away look as his gaze returned to the window. "There are bits and pieces that I think that I remember…a smell, or a sound, will take me to a place that I haven't been to before, but where everything is so familiar…" He trailed off, then focused on Ginny again. "But…you were at Hogwarts? I know Hogwarts has been used as a gathering place for refugees...but that doesn’t explain why you were there. Hogwarts closed for my seventh year-no student returned. What were you doing there?" Ginny met his unwavering gaze.

“Are you sure that you want me to be the one to tell you these details?”

Harry paused. “Yes…I need to know what happened. Just…tell me what you can. Like you said, hopefully I will regain my memories of the final battle…but for now, tell me your point of view.”

“Okay, Harry…if you’re sure…I was there at Hogwarts because we all were at Hogwarts…It was part of the plan, Harry…Voldemort's forces attacked Hogwarts, hoping to draw the Aurors there…and Voldemort waited for you at Godric's Hollow." Harry felt a rush of blood to his face.

"Godric's Hollow? And I don't remember it…tell me what happened, Ginny…please…" Ginny sighed.

"There's not much to tell-you're the only one alive that can tell what happened in the duel-we only know the outcome."

"No…tell me about what happened at Hogwarts."

Ginny got up from her chair and started pacing in front of Harry, the sleepiness of earlier long forgotten. "It was a few weeks after you had destroyed the final Horcrux-and the Order picked up the news that Voldemort intended to strike Hogwarts. At first, we had no idea why he would choose to do so-the school was empty, after all. Professor Lupin insisted that it was symbolic-a final stand against Dumbledore: an ultimate insult. We all expected that the battle would be the end game: one side would win, and one side would lose." Ginny stopped in the middle of the room, pulling on a strand of her hair as she attempted to organize her thoughts. "There was a moment, right before the fighting started, when we just stood across from each other…the Death Eaters and dark creatures against us. You didn't want me to be there…Hell, I didn't want to be there-but there were so few Order members and Aurors…I knew that we needed all we could get. Just before…you stood with me, Harry, and you said something that I shall never forget: 'We may be fighting because of circumstance and prophecy, but we face this evil together, and by our own free will. We will defeat them, because it's right.' I thought it was rather Dumbledorish of you, Harry…"

Harry blushed. "I don't remember saying that-good thing, to…that's a pretty sappy thing to say."

Ginny laughed. "Well, we all thought we were about to die, and you said that those could be your poetic last words." She smiled lightly as she moved forward to lean on the end of the bed. "But you said your true last words would probably be 'oh shite', but you didn't want that to go on your tombstone."

Harry laughed and buried his face in his hands. "That's just perfect…"

"I thought it was appropriate…"

Harry sobered. "So how did we figure out that Voldemort was at Godric's Hollow?"
"We didn't. You did." Ginny resumed her pacing. "Like I said, I stood right beside you, right before the battle. You had this look on your face, and then suddenly you were on your knees…I've never seen your scar bleed before, Harry, but it did then…and all you said was, 'He's at Godric's Hollow…this is a trap.' And you were gone…and the battle started." Ginny stopped by the window to admire the stars on the clear, cool autumn night. "You couldn't see the stars that night…Mars was unusually bright, though." She smiled ruefully. "We fought and defended the school…it was close, Harry. About mid-way through I didn't think we were going to make it. But, quite suddenly, the Death Eaters fell to the ground at the same time, grabbing their arms. I had…just been hit, and I was looking at the Death Eater that had tagged me when it happened: the Dark Mark burned black…and started to fade. I don't know if the Mark is completely gone, or just a faded tattoo…but the timing was perfect. We pushed them back, and was even able to capture some…but we couldn't find you…and then, you just turned up at St. Mungo's…that in itself is a mystery."

Harry sighed and lowered himself onto his pillow. "I can't remember…"

"Nothing? Nothing at all?" Harry closed his eyes as he searched through his mind. He had almost given up when he abruptly said, "Black eyes." Ginny stared at him.

"What? Black eyes? Did you hit someone?" Harry blinked, then laughed.

"No…not a black eye…the eyes were the color black." Harry frowned. "But that doesn't make any sense…Voldemort's eyes were red…"

"Maybe if you can remember that, you will eventually remember everything…it's a mystery worth solving, Harry…it will go down in every history book published." Harry grimaced.

"Don't remind me,” Harry said teasingly. His face became serious a few moments later, and he asked, “Ginny, Remus said that you were injured in the battle, and you said that you were 'tagged'. How bad were you hurt?" Ginny paled slightly and headed slowly back toward her chair. She sat heavily and lifted her sad brown eyes to Harry's.

"I was hit with a curse that causes internal bleeding-Crudus Viscus-and it hit me right below my abdomen…the healers did all they could for me, but with so many patients, and so few healers…I made a decision, and it's…hard to talk about it."

Harry leaned over slightly to grab Ginny's hand. "If you don't want to talk about it, then you don't have to…" Ginny smiled sadly and patted his hand.

"If anyone deserves to know, it's you…I…can't have children, Harry…everything was too damaged to save…" Ginny tugged her hand free and buried her face in her hands, her shoulders heaving with the effort of restrained sobs. Harry was at a loss…he wanted nothing more than to comfort her, but he couldn't reach her. A voice from his past whispered in his mind, 'Have you gone mad? Are you a witch or not!?'. Hermione had been none to happy about having to be reminded of that little fact by Ron, and Harry was no different. He reached out his hand, carefully, and summoned his wand to him. It felt wonderful to feel the length of Holly wood in his hand again, and he immediately made good use of it. Ginny floated to him, and Harry held her as she cried.

"Ginny…it'll be all right…please…" Ginny lifted her tear-streaked face from Harry's hospital gown.

"But Harry…I've always wanted a family…and…no one will want me!" Harry grabbed her chin firmly before she could bury her face once again.

"That is not true, Ginny Weasley…there are other ways to have children-and I will always love you, no matter what happens…"

Ginny sniffed. "I need time, Harry…I have to come to terms with this. I…love you too, I have for a long time…but I need to sort out my feelings. We've lost a whole year at Hogwarts…I start back as a sixth year. I want to finish school…I want to learn more about myself. And about you…so…let's be friends, just for the time being."

"I…agree; we both need time, Ginny…We need to get to know the people that we have become…just know that I will always be here for you." Ginny curled up closer to Harry, mindful of his leg. She sighed into his dressing gown.

"Thank you, Harry…I feel a little better now…but what will you do? I have a feeling you won't be returning to Hogwarts…"

Harry smiled into Ginny's hair as he inhaled the flowery scent that was pure Ginny. "No. I won't be returning to Hogwarts…to be honest, I haven't really thought of it…I know one thing, though…I don't want to be an Auror anymore." Ginny chuckled lightly, then yawned. Harry stroked her hair. "Why don't you head home and get some sleep? I'm fine…and I'm tired myself. I'll be here in the morning." Ginny eyed him suspiciously.

"Are you sure?"

Harry laughed. "Yes," he said in exasperation. "Now go, before you drool all over my pillow." Ginny carefully got out of the bed, then stuck her tongue out at Harry.

"I do not drool, Mr. Potter."

"Right…and you don't snore either…"

Ginny's face immediately turned red. She sputtered before she took in Harry's laughing features. Ginny drew herself to her full height, and bid Harry good night. Harry's laughter followed her as she left the room.

*****************************************************************************

“If you think I came to visit you out of the goodness of my heart, then you really know nothing of my personnalité merveilleuse…the least you could do is summon the energy to greet me properly.”

The sardonic voice and the bright sunshine pouring through the window awakened Harry for the second time in six hours. Harry blinked sleepily, then turned to reached for his glasses.

“What time is it?”

Draco Malfoy put his hand to his heart in mock surprise. “You mean you don’t know? Why, Potter, I am honored that you asked petit vieux me such a question…and I am even more honored to tell you that I have been given the joy of waking you for your breakfast.”

Harry rubbed his hand hard across his face. “First of all, you didn’t answer my simple question, Malfoy. Next, I may not know exactly what time it is, but I sure as Hell know that it’s too early in the damn morning for biting sarcasm and French…”

“I prefer to call it ‘blinding acumen’ rather than ‘biting sarcasm’, although I suppose your description works too…as for the French, well, I am far too cultured to forget a foreign tongue Potter; if you don’t use it, you lose it, or so the rather crude saying goes…and such vulgarity at eight o’clock in the morning, Potter…I guess I cannot expect decorum from you,” Malfoy said in a moderate tone. The blonde man moved closer to Harry’s bed, hovering a small tray of various breakfast selections. “Look at me, Potter…I have been reduced to your simpering little house-elf; the nurse seemed to think it was simply an honor to carry you your breakfast,” Malfoy rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Although the temptation to slip a little something extra was very strong…”

Harry sighed as he moved into a sitting position on the bed. He accepted the tray from Malfoy with no intentions of eating his breakfast. Malfoy caught Harry’s weary look and laughed. “I was kidding, Potter…great Merlin, you’re a paranoid bastard, aren’t you.”

“And you’re one to lecture me on vulgarity…Why are you here, Malfoy?Come to get your kicks and giggles? I may not be physically able to strangle you…but I still have my wand,” Harry said matter-of-factly, and was perturbed when Malfoy seemed not in the slightest way concerned. Malfoy settled himself elegantly in Ginny’s former chair, and produced a medium sized potion bottle from the inside of his robes.

“Now, is that any way to treat the man who has the antidote to that fascinating curse you are currently suffering from? Come now Potter, I think some groveling is in order…”

Harry ignored the comment, focusing instead on the bottle now being twirled through long pale fingers. “It wasn’t a hoax? Or poison? It’s real?”

Malfoy sighed in exasperation. “Did you damage your hearing, Potter? I just said that it was the antidote for Curatio Nunquam…I have inspected it since it was given to me yesterday morning-it is authentic, I have certified it…would you like a report, Potter?” Malfoy asked sweetly.

Harry frowned, then picked up a small apple. “I just have one question…do you have any idea you made the potion?”

Malfoy leaned back in his chair and studied Harry for a moment before answering, “I wouldn’t worry too much about the maker of the potion, Potter-all that is important is what I was able to ascertain: it was made by a master Potions Maker…it takes exactly two weeks to brew, and the potion is…exquisite. Trust me Potter…if you never find out who is your secret benefactor is, it won’t be a real loss.”

“You mean to tell me that you’re not the least bit curious as to who this Potions Master is? You, whose goal in life is to be better than everyone else?” Harry asked incredulously. Malfoy sniffed.

“Well, at the moment, my expertise far surpasses your own, and that of your little friends…put together, I might add, so for the time being, I have come to accept the simple joys in that.”

“Malfoy…” Harry growled, feeling his face grow hot in the heat of his anger.

“Now now, Potter; getting worked up over a simple truthful statement is certainly bad form…and you have a new decision to occupy your mind; and I daresay that you wouldn’t want to overload it, now would you?” Harry sighed and took a small bite of his apple.

“What decision? You said it was safe, Malfoy…and though I hate you, I know I can trust you-I’m taking the potion.”

Malfoy shook his head. “Foolish Gryffindor…no self-preservation whatsoever. You haven’t asked me a thing about possible complications or side effects. You’re just going to rush out, like you did at the Battle of Hogwarts, and face the consequences head-on…well, as you can certainly see from your current situation, being head-strong often leads to being foolish…which leads to pain.” Malfoy stretched all the way back in his chair, folding his graceful arms behind his head. He gave Harry an intent look, and Harry finally sighed in defeat.

“Malfoy, what are the possible side effects?”

Malfoy brightened immediately. “Ah, I’m glad you asked!” he said, the sarcasm betraying the congeniality of the words. “Now, the first is a deep trance-like sleep; the curse leaves your body during this stage, and while you are still asleep the healing potions and etcetera can be administered. When you awaken, you will feel disoriented and weak-but, if all goes properly, you should heal normally.” Malfoy leaned forward again, his face showing a twinge of unease. “I’m no healer, Potter…but may I have a look at your leg injury?” Harry was a little taken aback by the request, but he agreed, nonetheless. Malfoy carefully removed the bandages, taking in the raw, oozing flesh and the small black lines that marred the skin. He resettled the bandages, then looked at Harry. “I won’t lie to you, Potter…your leg may not heal completely. It has been a great deal of time since your injury was first sustained, and magic can only go so far…and you have only recently aggravated the injury to a great extent-you may be crippled, to put it mildly.” Harry closed his eyes as bile rose high in his throat. Crippled…he may never walk normally again…never fly again…it had never occurred to him that the healers would not eventually be able to heal everything. Harry swallowed with effort, refusing to allow the prickliness behind his eyes to become the tears that threatened to fall.

“Harry? Are you all right?”

Harry started at the sound of his first name coming from Malfoy’s lips. He let it pass, and he opened his eyes once he was certain he had control over his emotions. The last thing I want to happen, Harry thought, is to cry in front of Draco Malfoy…

“I understand, Malfoy…will you be here when they give me the potion?” Harry met Malfoy’s icy gray eyes. Malfoy did not break the gaze, but he nodded slowly.

“Well, Potter…if I simply must…I certainly don’t blame you, wanting someone competent around rather than the simpletons you’ve manage to surround yourself with.” Harry hid the small grin threatening to expose him. Malfoy’s personnalité merveilleuse would certainly remain the same…

************************************************************************

“Are you sure about this, mate?”

“Ron, for the hundredth time, YES! What’s the other option? I spend months more in this bloody hospital, in pain all the time…I would rather take my chances on this potion.”

Harry sat all the way up in bed as Healer Stanworth, Ron, and Malfoy, continued to argue.

“Mr. Potter, while our labs have conferred with the results that Mr. Malfoy has provided, this potion still has significant risks.”

Harry sighed. “Malfoy has already explained the side effects, Healer. And I trust you enough to believe that there will be no mistakes made when you give it to me. Just give me the damn thing!”

“Harry, I don’t think you’re thinking clear on this…you think that after you take the potion, everything will be better…” Ron clearly did not like the idea of Harry taking the potion, and Harry tried to be sympathetic.

“Ron, I know you’re worried. But the potion has been authenticated-it’s the antidote for the curse I have! This is a no-brainer decision.” Draco snorted loudly, and Ron glared at him. Harry cleared his throat to bring Ron’s attention back to him, and said, in a more pleading tone, “I’m so close to feeling no more pain, Ron…just support me on this, okay? I need you…” Ron still looked skeptical. Draco sighed loudly.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake! Who would have ever thought that I would see the day where I, Draco Malfoy, would support Harry Potter when his own friends won’t! It’s almost disgusting! It makes me want to leave the room right now to access my mental health! Just shut your overly large mouth, Weasley, and let’s get on with this some time this millennia! I do have a life to get back to…” Ron’s ears slowly started to turn the same color as his hair, and Harry quickly took that as his cue to step in.

“Ron, if you’re not comfortable with this, it’s okay…you can go back to Hogwarts and help Hermione and Ginny-they obviously need the help. I won’t mind…and I’ll be asleep shortly after they give me the potion anyway.” Ron shook his head stubbornly.

“I’m not leaving you alone with that, that, that git!” Ron said angrily, jerking his head toward Malfoy. Malfoy merely shrugged and turned back to his quiet conversation with Healer Stanworth.

“Are you ready, Mr. Potter?”

Harry shrugged. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” He accepted the potion bottle from Malfoy, and downed the contents in one gulp. “Uhhh…tastes worse than Polyjuice Potion…”Harry’s voice trailed off as sleep claimed him. Malfoy was slowly backing away from Harry, as was the healer. Ron still stood near the bed, and glanced at Malfoy in confusion.

“Why are you moving back?” Ron didn’t get much in the way of an answer; Malfoy reached out and roughly grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the opposite room. Ron opened his mouth to protest when Malfoy cut him off.

“The curse physically leaves his body, Weasley…have any idea what that means?” Ron looked at him in bewilderment, and Malfoy sighed heavily. “It’s going to shoot out of his body.” Ron looked up wildly.

“Are we in danger? Will the magic enter us?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, and the healer answered Ron’s question. “No, but it will reenter Mr. Potter’s body if we do not dispel it first. When you see the first strand, the incantation is Desolo Caligo. Speak clearly, and directly point your wand at the strand. The more time is wasted, the faster the strands will move, and the more likely they will reenter Mr. Potter.”

“And before you ask, Weasley, the expected time is around half an hour. And do try and keep quiet…”

“Look, it’s happening!” A long, inky black strand had emerged from Harry’s mouth like a piece of licorice; Malfoy immediately spelled it away. Soon, the room was filled with long, thick black strands, all pouring from Harry’s body. Harry thrashed and tossed on the bed, fighting some invisible force as the three men fought the strands of the curse. After an exhausting half hour, as predicted, the strands stopped coming from Harry, and Harry fell back into the bed with a heavy thud, sweat pouring from his body. Malfoy unrolled his sleeves and looked around disdainfully.

“Well, I must say that was a delightful way to spend a morning…if there is nothing else, I shall retire. Oh, and Weasley?” Ron stopped and turned to Malfoy. “My bill will be in the mail. Ta for now…”

“You’re just mad that I got more of the nasty little blighters than you did,” Ron mumbled under his breath.

****************************************************************************************

I am so tired of waking up in this hospital room, Harry thought viscously. He ran a quick assessment of himself, then said, “Time.” Hmm…four o’clock in the afternoon.

“Good evening, Mr. Potter…how are you feeling?” Harry groaned a little, then smiled.

“I feel better than ever, Willow, thank you…although my leg is still bothering me.”

“Well, I will certainly get you a pain potion for tha-ACK!” Harry was suddenly blinded by a brilliant light of silver appearing in the center of Harry’s bed, coming to a hovering halt directly in front of Harry’s face. Harry just stared at it, unable to make out exactly what it was. Luckily, his nurse had recovered her tongue somewhat.

“That’s a will reading summons, Mr. Potter…and a very important one, by the looks of it. You have to open it, or it won’t go away…” Harry eyed the rolled parchment carefully before taking a firm grasp of it. The light faded, and Harry broke the seal on the parchment. The parchment flew open, revealing decorative writing…and, settling directly into Harry’s lap, was a small package of:

“Great Merlin,” the nurse exclaimed, “Are those lemon drops?”