At first, Ginny was completely content – bursting with pride, even – to keep her Patronus a secret. The Unspeakables had told her it was a powerful asset – there were whispers about Nundus – and that she shouldn't tell anyone, not even her parents, not even her best friends. They even lied to the Defense Professor's face, and said that she had made a good attempt, but ultimately could not cast a Patronus and knew it. Ginny loved the feeling that she was important and special, that she had a secret worth keeping from absolutely everyone until the time was just right.

But now it was draining Ginny's patience, to sit quiet in Harry's presence. It was absolute torture to remain a gradually less-and-less-heard voice in the More Sane Squad – a group she had originally organized, before the second meeting, where Harry stepped in – knowing all the while that she had something important to say, a complex series of thoughts that might reestablish her worthiness of Harry Potter's company, that she had to keep to herself for the greater good. Every time Harry made some snide reference to theism or religion and glanced at Ginny, she wanted to snap "say, have you seen this neat spell I invented in the Department of Mysteries?", but of course she didn't. She wasn't that bad at keeping secrets. She only practiced it when she was very alone, and she didn't tell anyone about it, not even Tim, and she usually told Tim everything. The worst of it was the time Harry had made everyone sit through a Pensieve memory of a dreadfully-written-and-performed play depicting the possible origins of Christianity in a scam designed to cover up an illegitimate pregnancy. She had been quite tempted to cast her Patronus that time, and to explain at length how it functioned. But she just took a deep breath, swore to herself to do something constructive later, and smiled, as she had been trained to long ago.

On this particular day, the More Sane Squad was holding a quiet individual study session, as their group discussion had covered all the main points and ended substantially early. Ginny had cast a Quietus around herself and was practicing out of "70,007 Tongue-And-Wrist-Twisters For Optimizing Wizards And Ambitious Witches", an enormous set of practice exercises intended to improve spellcasting ability, to aid in rapid-fire Charming. She had convinced Professor Flitwick to get it out of the Restricted Section for her by describing, in vague terms, her calculator; he had obliged but suggested that if she wanted to learn about division, she should ask Professor Vector.

Harry set down his own book – and Ginny noticed that she recognized the cover; it was a fantasy novel called "Mathematically Precise Daemons and their Behavior", penned by one Arcturus Pullman. When she had been much younger, she had spotted Fred and George reading it, and she asked her mother if she could too. Mrs. Weasley, of course, threw a fit and confiscated the novel, and directed Ginny to read something called "Cubs, Devils, and Artifacts" instead. Back in the present, Harry approached Ginny, as she'd wanted him to several months ago, but somehow it didn't seem as satisfying now as it would have then.

"Ginny?" asked Harry. "Could we talk about something for a moment?"

"Sure," said Ginny. "What is it?" He didn't sound like he was on the attack...

"It's about Colin," said Harry. "Do you still talk to him?"

"Oh, sure," said Ginny. "We've drifted apart a little... But we still talk."

"Great," said Harry. "Is he coming back to our meetings?"

"Um, no," said Ginny. "He said he'd decided the whole thing seemed cultish. He seemed quite emotional about it." Harry frowned.

"He did realize that was just a joke, right?" said Harry.

"Yes," said Ginny. "But that was still the conclusion he came to."

"And he didn't even issue a letter of resignation?" said Harry. "How inconsiderate. I don't suppose you'd like to be the new Secretary of State?"

"As a matter of fact..." said Ginny.

"I'll consider your application," said Harry, and Ginny's heart melted. "Oh, and your other friend... Luna, is it?"

"One of my other friends, yes," said Ginny.

"She wouldn't happen to be interested in joining, would she?" said Harry. "People say she's batty but I'm not one to put too much stock in reputations."

"She actually did sit in on one meeting," said Ginny. "It really wasn't her thing; it never was. Shame, too. She's sweet. A bit Dark, though. She gave me some fortune-telling cookies the other day, and I opened mine and it had a little strip of paper in it that said 'you will regret reading this', and she said that it must have been overcooked. What do you suppose that's supposed to mean?"

"I have no idea," said Harry. "Fascinating." He nodded and left, and Ginny had a feeling that that meant that she'd said something rather boring, and she tried to get back to her exercises, but couldn't, with her focus uprooted. So she got up and found another group of students who didn't seem to be working, either, a group of students led by Cho Chang, who had returned to Hogwarts for the new term after her two-month hiatus-of-grief.

"Hello, Cho," said Ginny. "It really is nice to see you."

"Ginny!" said Cho, and she immediately invited Ginny into an awkward, though understandable, hug. "You came in late, so let me get you caught up really fast. So, I get back from home with no idea what I'm going to do, and Professor Lockhart invites me on a quest! A quest! To avenge Cedric's killer, no less, so of course I had to go on it. We went out into the Forbidden Forest, where the Acromantula that was framed for Myrtle's death in the 40s is kept, because, you see, magical spiders and magical snakes absolutely hate each other, so we thought maybe we could recruit it to fight Slytherin's Monster, since it must doubly hate it because of its history. But the Acromantula – it was named Aragog – refused to help us, because it didn't see itself as having a dog in the fight, and as it saw it it could only suffer from getting itself involved. And then – get this – it turns out that the reason Acromantulas are considered barely sapient is because they have an uncontrollable bloodlust, so we barely got out alive! Gilderoy had to stun and even kill some of Aragog's spawn! So of course we can't go back there again."

"Sounds exciting," said Ginny, and she smiled to show that she meant it.

"I think he might be my Wise Old Wizard, Ginny!" said Cho. "And I think avenging Cedric might be my true calling that gives me my heroic strength."

"Do you want to know what I think?" said Ginny.

"Of course I do!" said Cho. "Otherwise why would I be telling all of you?"

"I think the Defense Professor is rather suspicious," said Ginny, and Cho nodded, but her spirit seemed to sink a bit. "Of course, it's just a vague feeling, and vague feelings can go either way. Everyone thought last year's Defense Professor was suspicious, too, and just look at how that turned out! He was all good. So, I guess what I'm saying is, have fun and do good!"

"Thank you, Ginny," said Cho. "I heard you all went to the Department of Mysteries a while ago for Patronus lessons; how did that go?"

"Well, it's very confidential," said Ginny. "You know what they say, what happens in the Department of Mysteries stays in the Department of Mysteries."

"She couldn't cast one," whispered Sheila Carrow, and Parvati shushed her.

"Slytherins aren't safe" were the words most commonly repeated after Colin was found petrified, in a small deserted side-dungeon in the Slytherin dorms. "Oh God, what did they do to him," however, were the first, and this was almost certainly because only his upper half was petrified – the cutoff was somewhere beneath his armpits – and the rest of him was simply gone. What remained in stone was soaking in a pool of blood, which had been used to paint a message: "REANIMATE THIS".

Ginny was the first person to come across the scene, and her screaming quickly alerted the entire House to the horror and attracted the attention of the Headmistress, who was similarly disturbed, but quickly and calmly pointed out that all nonfatal injuries could be healed with the Philosopher's Stone, and, however severe, Mr. Creevey's injury must not have been fatal, seeing as he was petrified. His goggles were attached, as they were supposed to be, and were fogged up in the manner typical of glass usable in reversing Petrification.

"Whoever did this did not properly account for the Philosopher's Stone," said the Headmistress. "We may at least count our blessings that our enemy is not smart. Scourgify." The message written with Colin's fluids washed up and away.

"Or just not up to date," whispered Tracey. Draco huddled in close to Ginny; both were appalled but Draco of course understood that it meant even more to Ginny, who knew Colin more closely.

"To the best of my knowledge, Mr. Creevey will be perfectly fine," said the Headmistress, and she distinctly looked as if she were trying too hard to project an image that no one was at any serious risk. "Because of the current state of the Potions of Reanimation, he will miss a few weeks of class, but no more. Please evacuate the room immediately; Rubeus Hagrid will be here post haste to move Colin to a secure location." Nobody seemed quite satisfied with this, but they obeyed.

"Slytherins aren't safe," said Ginny, and, on an unspoken agreement, followed him towards his room.

"No," said Draco. "But we are. I will protect you, Ginevra. I will get into a fist-fight with a Basilisk if that's what it takes to keep you around."

"Draco," said Ginny, "you're acting completely ridiculous. You're perfectly fulfilling the role of the guy who's going to get a noble, but stupid, death at the hands of the monster – or petrification, if this is a children's story. Also, it's pedantic, but Basilisks don't even have any fists."

"Real life doesn't work like a play, Ginny," said Draco. "Narrative patterns don't reflect reality, they reflect narrative patterns. What do they even teach you in the More Sane Squad?" Ginny tilted her head and thought about this.

"Alright, fair point," said Ginny. Draco was suddenly very creepy for no particular reason, but it was quite romantic. The opposite of Lesath. "I don't see why you're so confident, though. Until they actually figure out what's going on and stop whoever's doing it, no one's really safe. How can you protect against something when you have that little knowledge of how it operates? It's like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands."

"I can just feel, I feel very certain," said Draco, "that I can protect you. I don't know why. But I do know this. If I found a scroll that told me I could bring Father back to life, and all I had to do was stand passive while the Basilisk ate you, I'd burn the scroll, save you, and spit on his grave."

"What a terrible thing to say," said Ginny, with an ironic intonation. She felt her arms snaking towards his, and she felt like a third or fourth year. "You're nuts, you're crazier than Luna."

"Maybe I am," said Draco. "Our love is God. Let's go get a Butterbeer."

"Hello, Tim. How have you been? Another student was attacked today, and it's someone I care about."

"It was Malfoy, then? That's terrible. Only petrified, right?"

"No, Creevey. And yes, only petrified. It's still awful. Really morbid; the Heir petrified him after cutting half of him off. He'll be okay, though, because of the Philosopher's Stone."

"Awful. The Heir must be a very sick man."

"Draco's quite well. I think I'm"

"As for how I've been, I've been how I always am. A mutilated human soul trapped in a diary."

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. It was very rude of me to interrupt you. Go on about Draco?"

"I think I'm going to marry him. Sometimes it seems like he's the only thing in the world that isn't wrong and broken."

"I'd object WHAT ABOUT ME but I'm as wrong and broken as they come."

"It's not your fault, Tim. Voldemort hurt you; he's the reason you're suffering. And I'm sure he's doing this somehow."

"No, not Voldemort. He could be cunning, but this isn't like him at all. He was an awful Occlumens; he simply was not one to wear many faces on many occasions."

"Maybe solving the mystery of the Chamber attacks will put you at peace."

"Maybe. Tell me more about Draco."

"He's much nicer to be around than Harry. He's dark and brooding like an anti-hero, and in a cute way. I clearly mean so much to him, which is nice since he means so much to me, and those two facts feed each other. It's a virtuous cycle."

"Romance is so stupid and yet so life-defining. I miss it. I miss being human, being in a human body. Take the gloves off, Ginny."

"What? Why?"

"Every time I've possessed you, it's been so exhilarating – to escape from this prison. To breathe and feel."

"Tim, I couldn't possibly understand your perspective, but it makes sense that this would be so important to you. But you have to understand – every time you've possessed me, I've been taking a massive risk. If you're somehow hiding something from me, you could just kill me, or use me to do something horrible. At first that hadn't hit me fully, but it has now, and I'm not comfortable just giving myself over to you like that."

"Why? When have I ever hurt you? Through these decades of pain, I've retained enough of my decency to act altruistically, rather than maliciously, towards you. After those decades alone, it was such a relief to meet you, but it was an even greater relief to possess you. I felt alive, Ginny, for the first time since I was originally abducted. And now, I don't mean to put any pressure on you, and I feel so manipulative and even evil saying this, but it's true: I feel like I'll shrivel up and die if I wind up alone again. I physically need to inhabit your body, Ginny. Please."

"...alright, Tim. Get ready."

The rustling sound of handgear being removed and Ginny taking a trust fall.