As he had so often done at the Dursley's, Harry was busy pretending he didn't exist. He'd tucked himself onto one of the window seats, near where the healers had taken Ginny, feeling cold and sick and alone.

The Weasley brothers were still huddled at the other end, sitting on the living room suite that had been conjured, talking in whispers. He didn't think they noticed whether he was there, or not. He felt awkward, intruding on the family crisis. Marian was sitting between Fred and George. Hermione had been taken behind another screen, by one of the healers. Harry hoped she'd be okay. Snape hadn't seemed that concerned, but it was hard to tell. He had told Dumbledore to go get Hermione's mum, though.

Whatever Snape, Pomfrey and McGonagal had done, it had taken a great deal out of them. When they'd been bringing Ginny up, Snape had stopped in the corridor, just outside the hospital wing, as if he could go no further. He' leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. Most alarmingly, his knees had buckled and he'd started to slide down the wall. Harry had been the only one close enough to catch him. Dumbledore had quickly conjured a chair underneath him. Snape stayed awake long enough to drink a cup of the thick black coffee Professor Sprout was giving out, then seemed to pass out. Harry had picked up the remains of the coffee, before they could spill and threw a blanket over the man.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't any better off. She'd stayed awake long enough to talk to the healers and fell asleep mid-sentence. Percy caught her as she fell, setting her limp form on a bed, next to McGonagal.

Harry dragged a chair out into the hall, taking his tea out there. He wasn't sure why he took it upon himself to keep an eye on Snape. It just seemed like someone should. Harry was surprised when Snape had woken up again; rather than merely moving himself to a more comfortable place to sleep, he'd gotten up to see what he could do to help.

Grudgingly, Harry had to admit, he admired Snape. The man had leaned so heavily on him, Harry was convinced he wouldn't make it to the chair. The way he had so quickly realized something was wrong with Hermione, when none of the rest of them had even started to notice, was astonishing.

However, Harry had to wonder why Dumbledore didn't talk to Ginny himself. Surely, if she were that ill and upset, Snape would be the last one who could get her to talk.

It was weird and a little scary, to watch the graceful Snape stagger, with palsied steps, across the room like an elderly Muggle, with the help of a cane. It was then, that Harry had left the Weasley's to sit down against the window. No one noticed him leave.

It was quite a few minutes before Professor Snape stumbled out from behind the screen, where the healers were treating Ginny. He said something to the one who followed him out, in a low voice, about letting her see her mother. He also told the healer to be kind to Ginny.

Harry wondered if someone should check the temperature in Hell. Then, it hit him like a bucket of ice water; Ginny was going to die, after all.

Dumbledore had hurried up the length of the hospital wing, starting to speak to Snape, but the man fell, face first, onto the nearest bed.

The healer merely shook her head at Dumbledore, "It'll have to wait, Professor." she said, "When Mrs. Weasley gets here, send her in." She said more to the headmaster, but her back was angled away from Harry, so he missed the rest.

Dumbldore was facing more toward Harry. Harry was pretty sure that Dumbledore knew he was there. The old wizard breathed a huge sigh of relief, "Of course," Dumbledore's face lost some of its' worry lines as he spoke to the healer.

If Dumbledore was looking relieved, that meant that Ginny wasn't going to die. So, they were back to ice skating parties in Hell.

The healer turned around and went back behind the screen.

To Harry's consternation, Dumbledore started walking over to him. Harry hadn't had a conversation with Dumbledore since his guardianship was transferred and he did not want to have one now. As the headmaster was about to say something, the low embers of the fireplace flared to life, with bright green flames. Dumbledore turned away from Harry and hurried to the fireplace.

Molly Weasley stepped out of the fireplace, wearing her dressing gown under her cloak. The Weasley brothers sprang to their feet, crowding around her. They spoke, voices tense, and uncharacteristically quiet, as her eyes swept over them.

She hushed them, "Your father's right behind me." she told them quietly, in apparent answer to their questions, "He wants to firecall Bill, before he leaves."

They nodded.

"Where's Poppy, Albus?" Mrs. Weasley's voice was restrained, as she walked forward, through the crowd of her sons. The hair on the back of Harry's neck stood up. If Snape asking someone to be kind was weird, Mrs. Weasley being restrained was terrifying.

"She is...indisposed..." Dumbledore said, "We have two of the healers from St Mungos here. And Pomona's with Ginny, as well. You'll want to talk to them first."

Through gritted teeth, Mrs. Weasley said, "I want to see my daughter, Albus. Right now."

"Of course, Molly, of course." Dumbledore went forward to take her arm, she snatched it out of his hand. From where he sat, Harry could see Dumbledore's face, sad and worried, Mrs. Weasley's mouth drawn into a harsh frown. Dumbledore dropped his hand slowly, "However, there are a few things you need to understand before you see her." he said, kindly.

"I'm sure the healer can inform me." snapped Mrs Weasley, losing patience, "Where is she?"

Dumbledore indicated the screen. Mrs. Weasley hastened down to it.

The healer from St Mungo's must have heard her. Maybe, she'd set an alarm spell. She came out, to see Mrs. Weasley, "Are you Ginny's mother?" she asked.

Mrs. Weasley nodded, sharply, "I'd like to see her now." she said firmly.

The healer nodded, "I'm about to do some spells, but why don't you come and let her know you're here, before I do. Have they told you anything about her condition?"

"Not yet." said Mrs. Weasley, anxiously.

The healer sighed, "Well, come along, but please remember, this is all only temporary." the healer moved to take Mrs Weasley's arm and speak to her softly. Mrs. Weasley let her. Harry couldn't hear anything else, other than a few gasps and exclamations of dismay from Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley went behind the screen. Harry heard her voice speaking gently, but he never heard the words.

He'd nearly dozed off, with his head against the window, when he heard her emerge from behind the screen. She turned back to say, "Your father and I will be here when you wake up, darling. The healers just want you to have a sleep, while they do these spells All right?"

Ginny never answered her.

Mrs Weasley's eyes were dry as turned around, but the lines around her mouth trembled, as someone suppressing tears. Dumbledore hurried down to meet her.

Mrs. Weasley stopped, almost in front of Harry. She rubbed her hands together as if she were cold.

When Dumbledore came within speaking distance, she drew her wand so fast, that Harry thought she was going to hex the headmaster. He must have too. He dropped back half a step, with his hands raised in a placating gesture, "Molly..." he began quickly.

She turned, "Silencio!" she pointed her wand at the screen that hid Ginny.

She turned back to Dumbledore, "Don't you talk to me Albus Dumbledore!" she cried, "Don't you speak. Not. One. Word." her voice was rising, "I told you!" She shrieked, tears starting down her face, "I will never, ever forgive myself, for listening to you. I have been telling you, for weeks. For WEEKS!" she punctuated her words with pointed jabs of her wand, "But, I know nothing. I" she drew herself up, pointing at her own chest with her free hand, "I am merely an overprotective mother!" she spat.

Dumbledore seemed to sag in on himself, with every word

Mrs. Weasley went on, "Pomona told me some very interesting things just now, about my daughter. Things that never reached my ears. Never mind, that I have been owling you daily! Never mind, that I have been owling Ginny three times a week! I told you, she wasn't right!" the sentence ended on a sob.

"Molly, I..." Dumbledore tried to move forward again, as if to comfort her.

"I told you. Not. One. Word. Don't even think about it." she snapped, she held her free hand, palm out between them. Although she was crying, it was clear that comfort was not what she wanted, "Don't you dare! My daughter is lying in there!" she pointed with her wand, "Paralyzed. Do you hear me? PARALYZED!" She screamed the word so that it echoed from the stone ceiling.

Harry heard a collective noise of anguish from the boys at the end of the room.

"For, Merlin only knows, how long! I WILL have my say. Against my better judgment, I have listened to you, about Ginny! I have listened to you, about that diary! Try to tell me, now, that Dark Objects don't leave traces. Just try! Don't tell me what happened, last year, doesn't have something to do with this. And then, those floating horrors, out there!" she pointed to the window, "Have already been responsible for one death! And you and the Ministry allow them to stay there? Are you all mad? The children are all already depressed. What are you trying to do? Drive them all over the edge?"

"Molly, the Ministry..." Albus began, placatingly

"Bollocks!" she barked, "You and your chess games and your power plays. You cozy up when it suits you, and do as you please when it doesn't! I have had enough!"

"But, Sirius Black..."

Mrs. Weasley actually cackled, "Oh, yes." Her voice was high pitched, almost hysterical, "Yes, I suppose I was quite worried about that. Until I found out that Harry had been half killed by those bloody Muggles YOU sent him to. Remember Albus, I saw that report. Broken bones? Malnutrition? Head injuries? To say nothing of what I saw last summer."

Harry didn't think Mrs. Weasley remembered the rest of them were there, so beside herself was she, about Ginny. He never wanted his invisibility cloak more in his life, than at that moment.

She put her wand hand on her hip, gestured wildly with the other, "Oh, but there again! I'm just an over protective mother with no understanding of Muggle culture! Perhaps, it's just normal to lock your children up and feed them once a day, through a cat flap! And, of course, my sons..." She gave Fred and George a glance, waving her hand towards them "Well, they'd say anything to save themselves a bit of bother, wouldn't they? Tell me, Albus? When have the ever made up such a story to get out of trouble? hmm?"

She didn't seem to want an answer, as she went on, "Never! That's when! It's always been 'Fair cop, we're caught, moving on'. So, why would they make that up? Tell me?"

She paused for breath, but Dumbledore made no attempt to speak, this time. Whether out of anger, shame, or some other reason, Harry couldn't tell. He looked terribly old, and tired.

"With all that's going on, I can well imagine Dementors floating around are doing Harry's well-being a load of good, as well. I've had some interesting words with Remus, while we're on the subject."

It took Harry a moment to realize whom she was referring to, when she said "Remus". What had Professor Lupin been telling Mrs. Weasley?

Mrs. Weasley took a few steps towards Dumbledore, until they were merely a few steps apart, "You," she held her wand in her fist now, and gestured with it, pointing it at his chest, "Might wish to ask him the significance of a certain number of drawings and artifacts, in his possession. And, to see the photographs of a certain broom cupboard." she snarled.

Harry was nearly sick, on the spot. Did Mrs. Weasley mean what Harry thought she meant?

Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath, her voice trembled with the effort of getting herself under control, "I am going to have a cup of tea, and wait for the healers to be done with my daughter. And you." she took a step forward, "Will not," another step, "Speak." one more step "To me." She finished with a deadly whisper, her eyes blazing, standing on her toes to get right up into the tall man's face.

She smoothed her red hair back, over her shoulder. With great dignity, she put her wand away, pushed him out of her way and went to join her sons. She sat down next to Percy, who had returned to his seat on a settee someone had conjured. Ron shoved a cup of tea into her shaking hand.

The fireplace flared again and Mr. Weasley stepped out. Mrs. Weasley gave him a venomous look and turned away.

The boys looked between their parents. Mr. Weasley gave his sons a little nod toward their mother. Mr. Weasley hurried down to talk to Dumbledore.

"I take it your wife is not pleased with you either, Arthur?" said Dumbledore, heavily.

Mr. Weasley was very pale and his eyes were shadowed, "No." he said shortly, apparently not wanting to spend time discussing it, "Has she seen Ginny yet?"

"Yes. The healers are with Ginny right now." said Dumbledore, "Perhaps, you and I should withdraw to Poppy's office, for a few minutes, until you can see her?"

Mrs. Weasley seemed to be keeping one eye on her husband, even as she drank her tea, "Ah. No. I'd better stay here." Mr. Weasley said, firmly.

Dumbledore nodded, "Well, it might be wise for me to withdraw. I'll just be in Poppy's office." Dumbledore walked out of the room and closed Madam Pomfrey's office door behind him, with a quiet snap.

Now that Dumbledore was gone, Harry reckoned he could just slip out the door, back to Gryffindor Tower. The headmaster would have said, if he wanted anymore information. He really was a bit of an intruder here, and the truth was, they wouldn't notice if he were gone.

Before, Harry could move, Mr. Weasley spotted him, sitting curled up, knees to chest, on the window seat. Mr. Weasley glanced at the little group around his wife, then sat down beside Harry, "Hello, Harry. You all right, are you?" he asked gently.

"Hi, Mr. Weasley." Harry said, "I'm okay." he shrugged.

"Harry? What happened? We got a very confused story from Dumbledore's message. But he said it was a potions accident. That you and Ron went to get Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey."

Harry sighed, telling the story as best he could.

"So, what is it Hermione and Marion were doing?" Mr. Weasley asked, when Harry described arriving at the common room with Snape.

"It's called CPR. I don't remember what the letters stand for. They do it on the television all the time, but I've never seen anyone do it for real." replied Harry.

"What's it for?" asked Mr. Weasley, seriously.

"It...well, when somebody stops breathing, I think it's supposed to make them start again." said Harry, uncertainly, "Hermione was breathing for her."

"She stopped breathing?" whispered Mr. Weasley, "And Hermione did a Muggle thing to make her start again?"

Harry nodded solemnly.

Mr. Weasly looked thunderstruck, "I love Muggles." he whispered, fervently.

"And then, Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall...They did..something." Harry tried to remember what Pomfrey had called it, "Madam Pomfrey called it, 'Tribu Oveeta?' Anyway, they've been pretty out of it every since."

Mr. Weasley seemed to mutter the syllables Harry had given him in a few different ways, "Do you mean 'Tribuo Vita?" he asked finally.

"That sounds right." Harry nodded.

"Professor Snape, Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall?" Mr. Weasley was looking paler than ever. He seemed to be keeping himself under control, with an effort.

"Yeah. It was just Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape first. Professor Snape said something about he was going to do it alone, but then Professor McGonagal...Mr. Weasley?" said Harry in alarm. The man had burst into tears.

"Sorry, Harry." gasped Mr. Weasly, wiping his face, taking a deep breath, "I..."

Mrs. Weasley must have heard him. She came hurrying down the room. "Arthur. Come have some tea." she said sharply, "You can't do anything, working yourself into a state. You come along too, Harry. You'll catch your death..." she stumbled over the word, "sat there."

Mr. Weasley put his hand around Harry's shoulders and urged him up. Leaving it there until they were both sat by Mrs. Weasley, who handed each of them a cup of tea.

Fred and George were sat on the floor now. Marian had gone to lay down on one of the beds. Percy and Ron were sitting in the two wing chairs. All of them were stairing into their tea cups. They looked up when Harry and Mr, Weasley sat down.

"Molly? Did they tell you what happened yet?" Mr. Weasley asked her.

She shook her head, "I was just...just getting my bearings."

Mr. Weasley jerked his head at the sleeping figures of the two teachers and the medi-witch, "Molly...they used Tribuo Vita."

Mrs. Weasley dropped her cup.

"What does that mean?" asked one of the boys, in a small voice. They all stared at Mrs. Weasley's frightened face.

"It means," said Mrs. Weasley softly, "Your sister was dead."

"But...Magic can't bring back the dead." Percy said in a breathless whisper.

Mrs. Weasley, shook her head, "No. I-I didn't mean...I don't mean all the way dead. I don't mean she was really gone. Her...I don't know...her magic was still there. Her brain was still alive. Her soul hadn't fled yet? It only works if her magic is still there. They gave a bit of their magic...their souls? To her." She glanced at the sleeping figures, "They're going to feel pretty poorly, for a while."

Ron nodded, "That's what Snape said to Hermione."

Harry was impressed that Ron had been paying attention. Harry had almost forgotten that Snape said that, "They'll be better though?" asked Harry.

"Yes. Of course." said Mr. Weasley, "It's just...it's not a spell that's used very often. I'm glad they were able to complete the triad."

"Professor Snape told Madam Pomfrey he'd do it himself, if he had to." said Ron.

Fred, George and Percy all nodded, "I thought he was going to." said George (or maybe it was Fred), "It was like he was all set to do an incantation before McGonagal said she could help."

"What would have happened?" asked Percy.

"I'm not sure." said Mrs. Weasley, pensively. She waved her wand and her cup returned to her hand.

"Er, excuse me?" A woman with a thick pony tale, looking very out of place, dressed in jeans, a thick winter jacket and boots was knocking on the open hospital wing door. "I'm sorry," she said, nervously, "Professor Flitwik said, this was where I'd find Professor Dumbledore?"

They looked at her, a bit confused, "Yes, of course. Percy, go tell Professor Dumbledore that someone's looking for him." said Mr. Weasley, tiredly.

Before Percy could get up, the woman said, "Actually, I'm looking for Hermione.  Professor Flitwik said there had been an accident and she was asking for me?"

Mr. Weasley jumped up, "I beg your pardon, Mrs. Granger." he reached out to take her hand. "It's been a long night, I didn't recognize you, for the minute.  You'll have to forgive me.  Please, come and sit down." Harry hastily made room for her.

"Er, It's fine, thank you." she said, a little primly. Another time, Harry might have smiled at the strong resemblance to Hermione, "Professor Flitwik seems to have gotten called away rather hastily. I-I'm still not sure what's happened. Can somebody explain?"

"Where's Hermione, boys?" asked Mrs. Weasley, softly.

"One of the healers took her over there." said Harry, pointing to the screen on the other side from where Ginny was.

"I'll go get the healer, shall I?" said Mr. Weasley, getting up.

"Mrs. Granger," said Mrs. Weasley, "From what I understand, Your daughter helped save my daughter's life, tonight."

"I'm sorry?" asked Mrs. Granger.

"What was it she and Marion did?" one of the twins asked Harry, "It was some Muggle thing."

"CPR." said Harry.

"Yeah," said Ron, hoarsley "But me and Harry, we wouldn't have even figured out that there was anything was wrong with Ginny until she'd keeled over if it wasn't for her. She'd already told me to go get Pomfrey before Ginny even hit the floor."

Harry nodded, "She told me to go fetch Snape. Told me it was a potion, before I even figured out what to think

"But...What happened?" gasped Mrs. Granger.

"My daughter had a...mishap...with a potion. An overdose." Mrs. Weasley, said softly, "Hermione...whatever she did...she's one reason Ginny's still alive."

Mrs. Granger leaned forward to place her hand on Mrs. Weasley's, "Oh, I'm so sorry." she said softly, "But, where's Hermione?"

The healer came forward with Mr. Weasley, "Mrs. Granger?"

"Yes?" she turned.

"I'm one of the healer's from St. Mungo's. That's the Wizarding Hospital. I'm looking after your daughter at the moment. It seems that she ingested some of the potion Miss Weasley overdosed on."

"How?" demand the woman, looking affronted.

"Well, Miss Weasley suffered an arrest and your daughter started CPR. Miss Weasley vomited. The potion is one that is absorbed fairly easily." Harry wondered if the healer was Muggle born or Muggle trained because she didn't seem to have a problem with the term "CPR".

"Is that dangerous?" Mrs. Granger gasped, starting to her feet.

"Not enough to be dangerous, but...it's usually, an anti-anxiety type potion. When I give her an antidote, she's likely to have a strong reaction. We felt she'd do better if you were here." the healer replied, gently.

"Can I see her?"

The healer nodded, "Yes, of course, right away. I'd like to give her the antidote, as soon as possible. The longer we wait, the more upset she'll be when, she gets the antidote." the healer gestured, "If you'll come this way."

Mrs Weasley clasped Mrs. Granger's hand before she went to Hermione. In a throaty voice she said, "Thank you, Mrs. Granger."

"Molly?" called Professor Sprout, "Why don't you and Arthur come see Ginny, now, for a few minutes?"

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley hurried down the long room.

With all the adults gone, the boys just sat, staring into their cups of tea or into the fire, not speaking. They still didn't really understand what was wrong with Ginny. There was so little sound from behind either screen that they knew silencing charms had been used on both.

A flash of silver light flew past them, through the door of Madam Pomfrey's office. A second later, Professor Dumbledore emerged, his wand in his hand, walking purposefully towards the little group. He stopped to take in the boys (Marion still slept on one of the beds), as they stared at him. He seemed to be counting heads. The set of his shoulders relaxed, minutely, as his eyes fell on Harry.

"Mr. Weasley?" he asked Ron, who was closest, "Where is your father?"

"With Ginny, sir." said Ron.

Dumbledore strode down there, had an apparently urgent word with Mr Weasley, then he resumed his original path out of the hospital wing, stopping for a second to say, "There's yet another crisis that calls me away. I need you all to remain here, until I return." as he left, he closed the door behind him and they heard the unmistakable sound of a locking spell being cast.