No Copyright infringement is intended. JK Rowling created the wonderful Potter Universe. I'm only writing lowly fan fics with my own plots.
No preamble for this one....no explaination. I know what I think of this chapter....now it's time for you to decide.
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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP Characters:None Genres: Tragedy Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Sexual Situations, Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 1174 Summary: Harry gets one night that gives him a glimpse into what life could be like with the Dursley's. But events turn for the worse and both Harry and the wizarding world are left wondering what it's consquences mean for the future of the world. Hitcount: Story Total: 501512; Chapter Total: 15092 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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Chapter 11: Etched with Marks, But I Can Deal Ron slung himself down heavily on his bed, the ancient bedsprings and frame, groaning and protesting as he threw his full weight upon it. Leaning against the cool metal bars of the headboard, he sighed deeply, burying his face in his hands, trying to relax his frazzled body and mind. "Ron?" came Hermione's voice from out in the hall, accompanied by a soft knock at the door. "Can I come in?" "Yeah...." he breathed in response, sitting up straighter against the frame. The door slowly opened and Hermione, with her usually bushy mane pulled back in a loose bun, entered the room, looking apprehensively at Ron sitting on the bed. "Are you ok?" she asked quietly, striding over to the bed and sitting down on the edge to face him. Ron nodded resignedly looking up at Hermione with a sad expression and a deep sigh. "Yeah....It's just...I guess I'm a bit shaken by what just happened downstairs with Harry." Hermione reached over and put a reassuring and understanding hand on his. "I know.....," she tried to reassure him softly, but her own frustration and fear that she had felt watching her best friend breakdown and struggle just a few minutes before began to fill her up as she tried to find words to comfort Ron. Tears began to fall down her cheeks as she tried to articulate her thoughts, but the right words didn't seem to want to come out. Everything just seemed so unfair. She had been so afraid when Harry had begun to panic, to fight their attempts to help him, when he had looked so lost and dejected. She was also afraid at what Harry's outburst and the feeling of helplessness were doing to Ron. She had seen the pain that it had caused Ron as he watched Harry struggle to even stand and then push himself to the point where his body could take no more. She had watched Ron stand powerless to do anything as his best friend faltered and stumbled and then finally broke. She had seen the look in Ron's face when he had calmly tried to get Harry to put on the oxygen mask. Everyone else had been forceful, trying to hold him down and put the mask back on for him. This had turned Harry into a caged animal that was ready to lash out and fight anyone who tried to hold him down. She knew Harry had felt embarrassed and frustrated at the helplessness of the entire situation. But Ron hadn't forced him to do anything. He'd given Harry back some of his dignity by giving him a choice to put the mask back, asking him as a best friend and someone who cared deeply for him, instead of like a caregiver. "I didn't know what to do....I've never seen him so....so scared," Ron whispered as he pulled Hermione to him. It was true. Harry was had always been the strong one. Not that they held him as a hero or as some infallible god-like figure, he was their best friend. But he had always been so determined, so brave and the one they had always, even if it was subconsciously, trusted to get them through things. But seeing him so vulnerable, to see him buckling under the pressure of it all, scared them more than anything. It scared Hermione enough to have her doubting things and bringing old questions and possibilities back into her thoughts. "Ron?" Hermione asked quietly as she clung to Ron and they sat there, each lost in their own thoughts they revolved around recent events. "Hmmm?" asked Ron as his chin rested on her head. "Do you remember when we talked about going to the Order and...." but as she spoke, Ron's body tensed and he pulled away from her. "I'm not having this conversation," he stated firmly, his face in a defiant glare as he studied Hermione's face. "Ron maybe it would be such a bad idea if we asked them for help....." she tried frantically to explain herself before Ron blew up at her. "Harry's alive....I'm not talking about this," he growled as he pulled farther away from her. "Would you listen to me before you go biting my head off for once in your life?" she snapped back. "What, so you can tell me your plans for going behind my best friends back and betraying his trust? About how you want to go about blabbing what you've been told to keep in secret just because you're scared?" he asked her incredulously, his anger suddenly flaring up unexpectedly. The two of them stared at each other, each breathing hard and trying to keep their racing emotions of fear, frustration, and stress from getting anymore out of control. "Yes Ron....I'm scared," she said in a small voice. "But I'm not scared for just myself. I'm scared for us....for everyone. I'm scared for Harry and what's going to happen to him now that he's had this accident. How long do you think he's going to sit around here, hearing about what's been going on outside, all the attacks and the killings, until it gets to him and he forgets about his recovery? You know Harry....he's taken on all of this and feels so deeply that he needs to end all this, that he'll forget about himself in order to protect everyone," she paused as she took a small breath to steel herself. "I'm not sure he's going to be able to do this the way he planned. He's hurt Ron. Things have changed." "Nothing's changed for Harry," Ron said simply and deadly calm. "He still has to find the Horcruxes. He still has to be the one to kill Voldemort. And I'm still going to be there with him every step of the way. Dumbledore entrusted everything to Harry and Harry trusted us enough to tell us. I'm not going to be the one to throw away and go against everything Harry and Dumbledore have done to this point." "Dumbledore didn't plan for this to happen to Harry, Ron. You know that," Hermione whispered. "You can't tell me it's never crossed your mind since we've found out he's alive, since he's come here, that things might be a bit more complicated than we thought they were going to be. You can't tell me, as you watched him struggle down there to walk and get back some sense of independence for himself, that you didn't question things. I saw the fear in your eyes Ron.....I watched you struggle and hurt along with him." "I am scared Hermione! There.....I said it....I'm scared!" he roared, throwing his arms up in the air. "And it's crossed my mind a million times that maybe we aren't going to be able to do this alone anymore.....that maybe things, however uncertain they were before, just got about a million times more complicated! But every time I find myself doubting him or even considering going to the Order.....I hate myself for it. What kind of friend begins to question his best friend’s abilities? To even think about throwing away everything....." "One who cares Ron. A friend who cares so much for someone else, that you'd do anything to protect and help them," she interrupted. "And you don't doubt him Ron. You're scared for him. We all are. And not just because of the accident and his injuries....but because of what he has to do....and how uncertain and dangerous that journey is." "I just don't want to go behind his back Hermione. I know asking for help could buy us time....enough time for Harry to get back on his feet. But telling the Order things and asking them for help would set him off.....he'd never speak to us again," Ron said in a lost and exasperated voice. "Maybe we should just talk to Harry? Maybe we won't need to go to the Order without him," she said suddenly. Ron looked at her skeptically, as if she should be booking a bed on the closed ward at St. Mungo's. "No...maybe if we told him how we felt....tried to make him see that he wouldn't have to tell everything....but inform the Order enough to have them pitch in. I know he realizes it's going to be harder than originally anticipated and maybe he'll see that he's not the only one fighting this war.....that he not only needs our help...but deserves it. I'm not saying it'll work....but it's worth a try Ron," she said. "I don't like this Hermione....." he replied, taking her back into his arms and sighing deeply as they embraced again. "I feel like I'm letting him down, telling him that he isn't good enough to get the job done anymore.......but he'll never be the one to make the first move, never admit that he needs help....." "I know this is hard Ron......but I think Harry will realize we're doing this to help. He needs his friends and he needs to know that he's not alone in this. And if that means if we make him mad and hate us....as long as he knows we care and that we'll be there for him now and in the end." Ron took a deep breath, taking in Hermione's words as if every one of them pained him to think about it. "Let it wait till after the weekend," Ron breathed heavily. "Harry's birthday is on Friday....let him have that before we ambush him." Hermione looked up into Ron's face with a look of gratefulness and admiration and nodded, melting back into his arms. Ron's maturity and loyalty made her lose herself in wonderment at how far he had come from the immature and brash boy he had been not so long ago. It was one of the things that had endeared him to her, one of the things she had loved about him. She knew how hard it was for him to have to think about confronting Harry about something as important as the Prophecy and his future, but she knew Ron was willing to do anything to help his friends and keep them safe. ------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---- Harry lay stiff against the pillow, listening to his stomach church and rumble audibly as it danced and weaved frantically in against his abdomen. He had just had his second attempt at keeping down something other than potions and he seemed to be having a better time of it. It had been soup again. It was a bit warmer and even had bits of chicken and vegetables in it. It had tasted wonderful and so far he had not felt the sick taste of bile creep up his throat, even if his insides felt as if they were pounding against his stomach wall, trying to gain escape. "Do you need the basin?" asked Remus quietly from beside the bed. He had been watching Harry quietly as he ate, and now was scrutinizing the boy as he lay back on the pillow, rubbing his left hand unconsciously on his growling and protesting stomach. "No..." Harry said shaking his head. "I think this might stay down." "It sounds to me that it's fighting you all the way," Remus said with a chuckle. "If I don't talk too much or make any sudden movements....I think I might be safe," Harry replied cheekily. Remus gave him another smile and then turned to the newspaper he had been reading off and on since coming to sit with Harry this morning. Remus had been oddly quiet and distant this morning, only speaking to Harry when necessary and in lighter terms. Harry knew from watching Remus sit there that he had been bothered by Harry's outburst the day before. He was weary and afraid of upsetting him again and maybe a little worried that trying to be too concerned or press him too hard would set him off again. Harry felt bad for having made Remus feel uncomfortable and to have to feel the need to tread lightly around him. He knew that they were trying to help him, that this whole accident ordeal had been hard on them too. They had been the ones who had had to wait for hours, searching and combing the countryside for him when he had went missing. They had been the ones who had been given the news that Harry had died and had had to deal with the grief of it. They had been the ones who had brought him home and cared for him. It had been hard on them to have to take care of him and do things for him that he as a sixteen-year old should have no problem doing, like eating or sitting up. As he thought about how awful things must have been for those who watched him struggle and then fight against their attempts at help, Harry felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry," blurted Harry, not looking over at Remus, but at the picture on the wall directly in front of his bed. "Sorry?" repeated Remus, folding the paper in his lap and leaning forward towards Harry with a confused look. "About yesterday," Harry said flatly, looking at Remus through the corner of his eyes. Remus eyes Harry carefully and then let out a heavy and shaky breath. "Harry....nobody thinks any less of you or holds anything against you because of yesterday......" Remus said, placing a hand on Harry's bedside, instinctively reaching out to place a comforting hand upon Harry's, but coming up with nothing but air. "We were just caught off guard and a little unsure of what to......" But Harry cut across him. "I shouldn't have freaked out like that...." he said quietly. “I should have let you help me....I knew I needed it but......sometimes it......everything just seemed to fall on me at one time. I felt like every one was closing in on me, trapping me and I felt so....so....helpless," he stuttered and struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I know it feels that way now Harry. Things are going to get better, you'll get better.....though it'll take time and it won't be easy," Remus replied. Harry looked at him and nodded his head in understanding as tears began to glaze his eyes over. "It's just sometimes.... it's too much to take. Sometimes I find myself forgetting things are the way they are....but it's always under the surface....that feeling of powerlessness and helplessness. When I couldn't make it to that chair and then with everyone trying to get me to put on that mask.....it all came crashing down on me again......" Harry said as he let his emotions pour out of him. "I know I'll get better....I'll heal and get up on my feet eventually. I know it's only an arm, and I’m lucky to even be alive. But there are things that I know will never be the same for me and when I think about it all.....it almost feels as if my life is ruined." "Harry," Remus said softly, placing his hand on Harry's leg and leaning in towards him, "I was seven when I was bitten by Fenrir Greyback. I don't think I realized at first what exactly the attack had meant...I was in pain....my parents were scared and frightened....so it took a while to hit me that my life wouldn't be the same anymore. It took time and my first transformation to really let those feelings of hopelessness sink in. But when it they did, when I realized that I would forever be shunned by mainstream society because of being a werewolf, when I knew that I would probably never hold a good job or experience life as I thought it would be....I felt very much like you feel now. It felt like the bottom had dropped out of my life. People I knew, my parents, all treated me different...even though I still knew deep down I was their son and they loved me, they couldn't help but let my condition swim into their thoughts." Harry turned to look at Remus with a hint of understanding and sympathy for his former professor. He had never thought to turn to Remus about his feelings, hadn't realized that Remus knew exactly what Harry was going through. He had been a victim of a horrible, life-shattering event as a young child and had a lifetime's worth of experiences and feelings to share and connect with Harry's own. "I was afraid I couldn't do things that I had always wanted to. Like going to Hogwarts. How was I supposed to attend school, when once a month I transformed into a savage, uncontrollable beast?" Remus paused, chuckling a bit at his last sentiment and then turned to look seriously again at Harry who was looking resolutely at the wall, deeply in thought. "But both you and I, Harry, have been blessed with wonderful friends and the luck of knowing people who truly care about us," Remus continued, waiting for Harry to look at him as he spoke. "When I look back at my life, I realize how much I needed James and Sirius. I'm afraid to think how my life would have turned out if I had not had the privilege of knowing them and having them as friends. Not only were they a riot to be around and a good source of entertainment....but they.....they showed me that it wasn't what I was....it didn't matter that I was a werewolf.....but who I was and what I decided to do with my situation. They helped me turn something that had caused me so much pain and frustration in my life, into something that I actually started to look forward to. Once a month I was free to explore and ramble the Hogwarts grounds with my best friends in tow, there to keep me company at some of my loneliest times. They were some of the best times in my life.....when they should have been the worst," Remus said with a bit of a reminiscing smile on his face, as if recalling some of his happiest memories. "Your friends will be there to help you Harry. They'll be there to help you see that the loss of your arm isn't your defining characteristic, like they've helped you find that the Boy-Who-Lived or The Chosen One isn't who you are. They'll help you find the good and the humor in your situation, instead of the negatives and the limits that are supposed to come with it," Remus told him. "Dad called your condition your 'furry little problem.' Wonder what they'll come up with for me," Harry said with a small smile and a bit of a chuckle. "I'm sure they'll come up with something.....Weasley ingenuity never fails," Remus smiled, moving his hand to Harry's injured shoulder. Harry looked up, slightly shocked that someone had willingly touched him there, instead of out of necessity when moving him or helping him sit up. Harry expected him to pull his hand away when he felt Harry jump at the touch, but Remus’s hand remained comfortingly on his shoulder. "But realize Harry that it's still going to be hard. And there will be times when the horrific reality of everything crashes down on you again and you'll feel what you're feeling now. But there will always be someone to pick you up and remind you that it's not some horrible tragedy and it isn't the end of your life....it's just something that happened....something you deal with and then go on living," Remus said with a nod and a squeeze of Harry's shoulder. Harry sat there taking in Remus’s words, trying to make sense of everything. Remus was right. If he let this accident, let the loss of his arm be what his life becomes focused on and fixated around, he’d never get to experience or enjoy anything. If he gave in, decided that life was going to be too hard from now on and it was easier to be angry and mad at his lot in life, then what hope did that hold for anyone else. If he couldn’t learn to accept and believe in himself…. “Oh….” said a voice from the doorway. Harry and Remus both turned to see Madam Pomfrey with a cup and a few potion bottles in her hand. “I’m sorry to interrupt…but it’s time for your potions Harry.” “It’s alright Poppy….” Remus said, smiling at the Matron, who took that as a sign to enter the room. “I think Harry’s stomach knows it’s time too.” Remus chuckled and Harry noticed that he still had his hand on his stomach, where they were still writhing and making a rumbling noise, something he hadn’t been focusing on while Remus had been talking to him before. “I see you’ve kept that soup down this time,” Madam Pomfrey said smiling and handing Harry a cup of potion, watching him down it. “We’ll give you some more for dinner and maybe….maybe ice cream or an ice pop or something for dessert.” “Yippee….” Harry said in a very sarcastic voice as he twirled his finger around in the air in mock celebration. The matron eyed him out of the corner of her eye. “You watch it Mister and I’ll decide you’re not fit enough for any sort of dessert,” she warned in a very matter of fact way, but her implied harshness was lessened by the smirk trying not to make its way across her lips. “Sorry,” replied Harry quickly, with a smile of his own, “I’ve got to find some fun in all this don’t I?” As he said this, he glanced over at Remus who was smiling proudly at Harry. He was trying to do exactly what Remus had been talking about. He was trying to making light of something that seemed horrible, by making fun of the fact that it was going to be a privilege to have soup and an ice pop for dinner. The matron nodded understandingly. “Alright…..How was your breathing when you woke up?” she asked, putting a funny looking flat disk to his chest and pointing her wand against it. Harry knew that this disk was testing his lungs, giving her information about how hard they were working. “Good,” he answered. “I kept the mask on until Remus came with the soup earlier…..I haven’t had any troubles.” “And are you sore at all?” “Actually no….I figured I would be after the effort of trying to stand yesterday…..but there’s not anymore discomfort than normal,” he told her. “Better than I expected,” she said absentmindedly as she helped him sit forward and she placed the disk on his back, testing his lung function further. “Madam Pomfrey?” Harry asked, sitting patiently as the matron continued her look-over of him. “Mhhmmm?” “Do you think I could try it again today?” he asked cautiously. “Walking I mean,” he added to clarify himself. She took the disk off her back and helped him back against the sheets, looking at him carefully. “Maybe we should wait till at least tomorrow,” she said with an air of concern. “You should really rest your lungs and give them a bit more time to recover from the stress they experienced yesterday.” Harry considered the nurse for a second. “What if I wear the mask while I do it?” he asked quietly. “Are you sure?” she questioned him, making sure he was sincere about this. She knew he didn’t like wearing the oxygen mask and knew he felt embarrassed to have to. “Yeah….and I promise I’ll listen and if you tell me stop or slow down…..I will. I’ll listen to my body this time,” he told her seriously, his green eyes full of determination, boring into hers. She paused, not breaking her gaze from his, noticing the willingness and drive in his eyes. “Alright. It’ll have to wait till this afternoon though. These potions need to do their work and you need a bit of time to digest that soup. Don’t want you to get sick all over again,” she told him. “Thank you,” he said simply. “I’ll be back later,” she said to both Harry and Remus as she gathered the potions and walked carefully out the door. ------------------------------- --------------------- “Ready Harry?” asked Charlie as he entered the sitting room a few hours later with Ron, Madam Pomfrey, Remus, and Hermione entering in behind him. Harry turned his head toward the door, looking up from a book he had propped up against his legs and was holding up with his hand. He closed the book, reaching to put it on the table next to the bed. “Yep,” replied Harry, reaching for the oxygen mask that had been set on the table and that he had promised he’d wear when it was time to try walking and moving around. Charlie, Remus and Ron went about moving furniture and tables out of the way and again setting a chair for Harry to attempt to get to, while Harry placed the mask over his head, leaving it hang around his neck, ready to put it on when he was ready. “All set,” Ron said after he moved a sofa that had brought into the room for people to sleep on, out of the way. “Ready mate?” he said looking over at Harry. “Mmhmm,” Harry replied nodding and placing the bubble shaped mask over his mouth and nose. Harry took a deep breath trying to keep himself from lapsing into another wheezing fit. He was quite nervous now that he was about to try walking again, something that had gone so abysmally the last time, and he could feel himself start to breathe a bit heavy in anticipation. “Ok Harry, same as yesterday…..swing your legs over the edge. Ron and Charlie be there to steady him if he needs it,” the matron said as she took her spot alongside the chair. Ron and Charlie came to stand next to the bed as Harry sat himself up, easier than the day before and slowly swung his legs over the side, trying to make his long legs reach so his feet hit the carpet. With the mask on, his breathing was much more even than it had been on the previous try and he didn’t seem as dizzy as he straightened up, supporting his own weight. “Whenever you’re ready Harry,” Charlie said as he took his place to Harry’s right, ready to lift and brace him. Ron was on Harry’s left, waiting for Harry to stand up so he could be there to aid if he needed it. Taking a steadying breath, Harry pushed off the bed and lifted himself into a standing position. His legs were twitching and aching was he bared his weight on them, but they seemed to hold him. Ron and Charlie only had precautionary hands on Harry’s side, ready to keep him from tipping over. When he felt like his legs were steady enough, he slowly straightened out his back, pausing slightly when a sharp pain stabbed at his side. When the pain and dissipated he slowly continued his task of standing to his full height, his back shaking slightly under the strain. Finally he found himself to the point where he could go no farther. He looked around at Ron and Charlie, who were smiling at him, Ron keeping a steady hand on Harry’s back to keep him from tipping backwards. At his full height, Harry was now looking face to face with Ron, something he had never been able to do before. And Charlie, he found, was about two inches shorter than him. He was no longer the little runt he’d remembered being. Harry looked around at amazement and excitement at being up and standing on his own and the fact that he had grown a lot taller than he had originally thought. He knew he’d grown quite a bit since the end of term, he’d noticed that his hand-me down pants were a bit short in the ankle, but a few weeks of lying flat on his back had let it slip from his mind. “Want to try the chair again?” Ron asked while gesturing to the fluffy, cushioned chair positioned six or seven steps away. “Yeah….” Harry said, his voice a bit muffled by the mask obscuring his nose and mouth. “Lead the way,” Ron replied, keeping his hand on Harry’s side and back for support. ‘One foot in front of the other Potter,’ he told himself, focusing on making his tiring legs move. Staggering a bit, causing Charlie to grab for him, he took one step, using his arm to steady himself on Ron as he tried to get used to the off-balance feeling he got with only having one arm to steady his shaky legs. Once he had regained his feet, he took another step, and then another, only pausing slightly to keep himself from tipping to his right. Without realizing it, Harry soon found himself grasping for the arm of the chair, clumsily plopping himself down into the inviting cushions. “Well done,” chimed Remus. Harry smiled back from the chair, panting slightly, but his breathing not anywhere near out of control now that he had the mask on. “Well….ready to make the trek back?” Ron asked. Harry looked up at him slightly bemused. What had expected to do once he made it to the chair? If he was going to get any better at this…he’d have to practice. So Harry hefted himself off the chair, swaying slightly as he stood up, Charlie and Ron there again to steady him, but allowing him to do the work. Once steadied, he started the process of getting his wasted legs moving under him. He focused on the bed and getting his feet underneath him to take a step, unaware of anything else but the task in front of him. A few steps from the bed, Hermione’s voice interrupted his concentration. “Harry?” she said quietly. Harry stopped and turned his head slightly towards her voice. She was looking at him with an unreadable expression on her face as she stared at him. “What?” he asked through his mask. He was slightly irritated that she had made him stop, had caused him to lose focus. He had been doing alright. He was almost back to the bed, he was still standing. “Harry, look around,” she said, a knowing smirk overtaking her previously blank face. Desperate to figure what had caused her interruption, he turned to his left to find Ron standing slightly behind him, his hands at his side. Ron wasn’t holding him or helping him anymore. He looked over to his right, expecting to see Charlie, but saw him standing off to the side, arms crossed, casting a wicked grin in Ron’s direction. “I did…that….myself,” breathed Harry, panting not out of effort but disbelief and excitement. “Yeah….” Charlie said looking proudly at Harry. “But if you don’t get a move on Potter, we may have to swoop in and save you,” Ron added, gesturing Harry to go the rest of the way to the bed. Obliging, Harry took the next few steps to the bed and leaned against it, maneuvering himself back into his normal position. “Giving up?” Ron asked, leaning over Harry and handing him a glass of water. “I think Mr. Potter has had enough for today. After some rest and a spot of food, we can do it again tomorrow,” the matron said, coming over to the bed to make sure Harry was still breathing alright and wasn’t in any pain. “I am a bit knackered,” Harry said he slid a straw from the glass of water under the mask so he could drink. He was a bit tired. His legs were sore and in all truth, he felt like he’d been running. But he was so full of excitement and happiness that he had been able to walk and stand and had done some of it on his own power. “Ok, we’ll leave the man to his rest,” Charlie said, giving Harry’s shaved head a brotherly rub. With smiles on their faces, the rest of the crowd made their way out of the room to let Harry sleep a bit and recover. Madam Pomfrey paused by the door to remind him to yell if he needed anything before closing the door. After a few minutes of silent jubilation and reflection, Harry let the exhaustion and fatigue of everything drift him into a peaceful sleep. ---------------------------- ---------------------------------- A tiny creak of someone moving nearby in a chair brought Harry back to his senses as he lay on his side in bed, recovering from the effort he had put into practicing walking. He opened his eyes a crack to see who had come to sit with him, thinking it might be Remus or Mrs. Weasley, waking him to tell him that it's time for him to try eating again. But as his blurry, still glasses-less, vision came into focus, the small and slight frame of Ginny Weasley sitting in one of the bedside chairs came into view. She was sitting a few feet away, curled up in an armchair, paging through a magazine. Once again, she was with him when he was sleeping, when he wasn't aware she was there. He knew if he made a sound or a movement to indicate that he was awake, she would bolt. She would find an excuse to go find someone else or would find something to busy herself with so she could pretend not to pay attention to him. After his talk with Remus and after spending the last few days thinking about their relationship, about what had happened, Harry wanted desperately to talk to her. He watched her quietly for a minute, studying her furrowed brow as she concentrated on whatever article she was reading, her tongue peeking through her lips in thought. After a few minutes deliberation, Harry decided that he needed to get her attention, to confront her and get his feelings out in the open. "Mmmmmmmm," he groaned as he closed his eyes and stretched out as if he was trying to shake himself from his slumber. He brought his hand up to his eyes and rubbed them, pretending to not have noticed Ginny, but stealing glances as he faked his sudden awaking. As he put on his little act, he saw Ginny quickly set down her magazine and leap from her chair, busying herself so it looked as though she was cleaning up the potion bottles and cups that were littering the table. "Morning," Harry said with a faked yawn. She looked up, feinting surprise from her pretend task. "Oh...hi," she replied, smiling weakly before turning back to the bottles she was trying to gather in her arms. "Mum wanted someone to clean up a bit and wash out some of these bottles." Harry nodded and watched her clear out the rubbish, hoping silently she'd look at him or say something else. When she had all the bottles she could carry, her arms laden with empty containers, she glanced over at him. "Well....that's all of them," she said, turning the door and making to leave. This was going to be his one chance....he couldn't let her walk out again. "Ginny....." he called, "Please don't run away from me again." Ginny froze at the sound of his words, stopping just short of grasping the handle to open the door. She stood there for a few seconds, unsure of what to say or do. "I'm not," she said firmly, but not turning around to face him. There was a flicker of uncertainty and untruthfulness when she had said those words. "Yes you are," Harry said quietly. "You've been doing it since I woke up. You're always finding something to do to keep you busy or finding something to do so you can leave when I'm awake. And you only sit with me when I'm sleeping," he added with a slight tone of hurt in his voice. He felt bad about trying to make her feel guilty about how she had been acting lately, but he wanted to get her to look at him, to get her attention so he could tell her how he felt. Ginny just stood there, her back still turned towards him. "I've got to get these to the kitchen or Mum'll go mad," she said breathlessly, reaching for the handle. Harry thought frantically, she was getting farther away and he didn't think he could wait any longer to say what he knew he must. As she clumsily reached for the handle, balancing the bottles in her arm, Harry flung the covers off himself and hoisted himself noisily to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over the edge as if he were going to attempt to stand. 'If she won't stay and listen....I'll go after her,' he thought to himself. ‘Even if it does take all day to catch up.' "Harry," Ginny said worriedly, tossing the bottles and containers onto a chair and rushing over to him. "Harry, lay back down. You're going to hurt yourself." Harry didn't move. He sat in position on the edge of the bed, leaning with his left arm on the bed, struggling against his protesting muscles. He had sat up and moved way too fast and he could feel his heart-rate and breathing pick up a bit. But he had Ginny's attention now. She was close enough for him to finally get her to hear him out without walking away. He didn't care if he would have to stay in bed a full week to recover....he needed Ginny. "I made it to that chair today," Harry breathed, saying the first thing that came to his mind and gesturing to the chair with his head, looking at Ginny for a reaction. "All by myself too...well most of the way back." "I know," she said quietly, glancing at him and standing near him incase he decided to topple off the bed, "Hermione told me." Harry inclined his head a bit in response to her comment. "I kind of hoped you'd have been there," he replied in a small voice, looking up at her. She stood still, thinking hard for what to say, her eyes avoiding his at the moment. "Harry. I don't want to make this any harder than it already is," she said finally. Her voice was filled with all the frustration and confusion that had building up in her over the past few weeks. "Why is it so hard?" he asked, repeating the question he had posed to Remus a few days before. Ginny closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts and find the right thing to say. "It's hard not to think about what we had," she said, looking up at him to find his bright green eyes studying her closely. "It was only a few weeks, Harry, but it was....I don't think I've ever been happier," she said with a slight laugh. "I was so happy be going out with you. Not the famous Harry Potter, not the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, or the best looking bloke in school, but you," she added. "Best looking bloke?" Harry questioned, eyeing her playfully. "Yes....but don't get too full of yourself," she said with a bit of a smile back and a look that clearly said 'don't interrupt'. "I fell for your loyalty and caring. For the cute way you say 'err' when you get nervous. For the way you hate being the center of attention and how you defy everyone by being a normal teenager, by being you. But that's what makes it so hard to be near you now....knowing that I can't have you. Sometimes I think it's easier to stay away and wait for this all to be over....to wait so we can be together without you having to worry about me. I don't like it Harry....you know I hate all this like no tomorrow.....but I want there to be a future for us, no matter what has to go on for that to happen." Harry gauged her as he stared into her determined and fiery brown eyes that seemed to be enhanced by the brightness and brilliantness of her hair. "It's funny how something that seemed so right to me at the time, that seemed like the right decision, is making us both feel so miserable," he said, averting his eyes to the floor and shifting in his position to make himself more comfortable. "It's been making me second guess myself. Making me constantly come up with new reasons to justify for myself that breaking it off was the thing that had to be done. And it's making you miserable, making you think that you need to stay away from me." "Harry, I told you I understood this...that I'll stand by your-" "My mind," Harry interrupted, "my mind keeps telling me that splitting up was the right thing." He paused and closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts and control his emotions. "But my heart.....my heart won't let my mind forget you. And I don't want to either," his voice was quivering and breaking as he started to let his thoughts and feelings from the past few days pour out of him. "My heart, my ability to love, is supposed to be my greatest strength. It's what Dumbledore told me has saved my life time after time from Voldemort. It's what caused Voldmort to flee my body after possessing me at the Ministry," he said quietly. He had never told anyone about being possessed. About how Voldemort had taken hold of his mind and body. How he had wanted it to end....how he had wanted Dumbledore to kill him. He expected Ginny to be taken aback with his new revelation, but when he looked up at her, she was looking intensely at him, waiting for him to continue. "It's what sets me apart from Voldemort. Love is something he can't understand and comprehend," he said firmly. "Then why? Why am I jumping into all of this with only half of my heart? Why am I cutting off my greatest power?" Ginny looked up as to say, 'I don't know,' but Harry cut across her. "Because I'm scared Ginny. I'm scared of losing you, scared of getting you hurt. Because....because I'm scared of the way I feel for you, how much I care for you. I've never told you...never let you know....but I...." he stumbled over his words. He was really going to say it. "I love you Ginny." He paused. He was waiting for her reaction, for her to run away again. He was surprised to see that she was still looking at him, wiping away tears that were spilling out of her eyes. He thought it was alright for him to continue, to get everything he needed to off his chest. "With you, I thought of things that had never occurred to me before. Beyond Voldemort and this war.....I never thought there could be a future for me, nothing beyond being an Auror....it just never entered my mind. But when I was with you....I started to think that.....maybe getting married, buying a nice little house, and settling down with someone I loved and cared for wouldn't be such a bad idea after everything was over. It may sound silly....but that meant so much to me that you could make me feel and think about things like that," he said as tears began to leak down his cheeks too. "But I'm afraid that I can't have that Ginny. I'm afraid that I'll lose you and everything I want us to have when we're older," he croaked, his breathing was now heavy and he started to wheeze as his emotions began to take hold. "I'm not going to...listen...to my head anymore....I'm done with that," as he spoke his body began to tense and shudder with each word. He was so afraid she'd not take him back. That he'd poured his soul out, telling her things that he never had spoken aloud about, only to have things go back the way they were before. "I'm going to...listen...to my heart Gin....I want you back....please," he gasped as he began to cry. He didn't feel embarrassed or ashamed at his breakdown....he knew Ginny would not make fun of him. "I need you." Before he could finish his last words, Ginny had wrapped her arms tightly around him, not treating him like he was fragile and might break to the touch, but holding him and embracing him like she knew he needed right now. "It's alright Harry," she whispered in his ear, "I'm right here...I'll always be here." Harry sat in her arms, relishing her embrace, the feel of her hair against his cheek, the warmth of her breathe on his neck. But as calming as this was, as much of a relief it was to have Ginny back, his body was protesting and his breath steadily losing control with the emotion and effort of crying. He was taking gasping breaths, trying to steady himself, but no air seemed to be coming in. "Harry?" Ginny asked, looking up at him. "Lay...down...." Harry forced out through great shuddering breaths. He was feeling quite dizzy and thought he might collapse off the bed at any moment. "Ok....just breathe Harry," she said, helping him lean back and lay back down on the back. Harry expected her to help him back and then give him his mask or get Madam Pomfrey, but instead she moved him over and helped him onto his left side so she could lie next to him. She wrapped his left arm around her, pulling herself closer into him so they were chest to chest, face to face. "Breathe Harry," she told him again. "Listen to my breathing Harry. Follow the rhythm of my breathing." Harry could feel her trying to taking in deep breaths, trying to calm him and get him to slow his wheezing down by following the rise and fall of her chest that was pushing up against his. "Mask?" he asked through intakes of air. Maybe the mask would make things easier? "No Harry. Just follow me. You don't need that mask. You can do it yourself," she said, looking at him with her face full of determination and reassurance that he could do this without that wretched mask that he hated so much. Harry focused on her steady breathing and tried to get his ragged breaths to match hers. Closing his eyes, he let her touch, her closeness, and her love, calm him until he found that his own breathing was in rhythm with hers. "Thank you," he said at last when he felt it safe to speak again several minutes later. "Anytime," she replied quietly, smiling and positioning herself so her head was against his chest. "I missed you," he said quietly while pulling her a bit tighter to him with his arm around her, rubbing the small of her back with his hand. He instinctively brought his feet up to find hers, wrapping his much larger feet around hers like he used to when they snuggled in the common room couch. "Harry?" asked Ginny quietly, placing a hand against his chest and pulling herself so she could look at him clearly. "Are you sure you want this?" "Somebody once told me that I'd have to choose between what was right and what was easy," He said, nodding his head. "I thought that meant the right thing to do was break things off to protect you, to keep you alive and safe. I knew it wasn't going to be easy, giving you up, but if it meant that you wouldn't get hurt....then I was going to do it. But I was wrong," he told her, resting his chin against the top of her head and taking in the flowery smell of her hair. "This...this relationship is going to be hard. I'm always going to worry that he'll hurt you to get to me.....and there will be times when I have to leave, things I have to do without you. I know you won't like it and I'm going to hate in when I have to go. But I know now that....this...us...it's what's right." Ginny sighed deeply, once again resting her head on Harry's chest, taking in the moment, taking in the embrace. "So...." said Harry after a couple minutes silence and neither of them moving. He had to ask something his stupid, sixteen-year old boy conscience needed clearance on. "So does this mean you're taking me back?" Ginny let out a snort of laughter that tickled his bare skin and then looked up with a look of humorous disbelief at his question. "I thought you were the one taking me back?" she questioned playfully. Harry pondered her for a second before grinning and saying "Ok then," before bringing her lips to meet his. After a few seconds, he felt Ginny deepen the kiss, causing his arm to tighten around her, bringing her in even closer to him to satisfy his need to drink in her entire being. Ginny followed suit, her hands scrambling to find his hair and back until they automatically went to his arms. Ginny's hand grasped to squeeze what had normally been his right and left arms when they had snogged other times like this, but instead her hand found the area of uneven and slightly scarred skin where his arm had been amputated. Harry felt her hand against the sensitive area, and pulled away, breaking off the kiss. It wasn't that he was mad or uncomfortable that she had touched him there, but he was a little unnerved at the fact that she had paused and gasped slightly when she realized where her hand had traveled and then pulled her hand away, placing it against his side instead. "Ginny...." he said in a cool tone. "I'm sorry Harry....." she started to say, tears looking as though they were pooling in her eyes at the thought that she had made him angry. "Ginny don't be afraid to touch me," he said a bit softer, "please." "I....I just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or hurt you....." she whispered. "You could never make me feel uncomfortable and if it hurt....I'd let you know," he said, lifting her chin and looking seriously at her. "I'm sorry," she said again. "Don't be. It's just something that you and I have to get used to," he said smiling and giving her another kiss on the lips. After breaking the kiss, Ginny looked up at him as if she wanted to ask him something, but was unsure. "Can I?" she said quietly, gesturing to his right shoulder. Harry gave her a small look of confusion before he caught on. "Yeah...." he said nodding and lying back so she could explore his shoulder, a place that he hadn't let anyone really touch, that he had refrained from looking at whenever possible. He could feel her fingers gently tracing the places were the skin had been sewn together, as he watched her face take in his injury for really the first time. Her face was a mixture of aprehension, sadness, and a bit of facination as he watched her look him over. As her hand roamed the area, he couldn't help let out a bit of a laugh as the familiar tickling feeling, similar to getting tickled in the armpit, spread up his side. "What?" Ginny asked, looking up a bit concerned. "It just...tickles," he said laughing even harder. "Now I know where to attack you," she replied cheekily. "You wouldn't sink that low," he teased. "I'll use anything to my advantage. Mr. 'I'll pin you to the ground and use my height and weight to tickle you till you can't breathe' Potter," she spat back jokingly at him. "So that's what this is?" he said moving his right shoulder a bit, "An advantage in a tickle fight?" She nodded in reply, winking at him, causing the both of them to burst out into much needed laughter. After a while they relaxed back onto the bed, Ginny still laying closely to him with his arm wrapped around her, watching him give into the sleep his still damaged body sorely needed. ----------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ------------------- Ginny was woken from her light slumber by the sound of someone setting something on the table and moving around. Ginny opened her eyes and looked up to see Harry's chin a few inches from hers. She shifted slightly to found that he still had his arm wrapped around her, his hand still against her back. Not wanting to wake him up, she lifted her head to see who had come into the room. As her head peaked over Harry's frame, she saw her mother setting a tray with a bowl of soup and a glass of what looked like pumpkin juice next to the bed. Ginny's heart skipped a beat when she realized her mother might not be too keen to see her snuggle in the bed with her sixteen year old boyfriend....who was currently still shirtless. When Molly spotted Ginny's head poking out from Harry's embrace she smiled at Ginny, whose heart leapt with relief that she wasn't going to be yelled at. "Gin," she whispered softly, "how long has he been asleep?" "A while now. Do you need me to wake him up?" she replied in a very quiet voice. "Yes, it's time for him to have a spot of dinner. Madam Pomfrey wanted him to try and keep more down and maybe have some ice cream after," Molly replied. "Ok," Ginny said smiling, trying to loosen Harry's grip from around her. "Gin?" whispered Mrs. Weasley again. "Are you....are you to back together?" "Yeah...." Ginny whispered, nodding while looking at Harry's sleeping face with a huge grin. Molly grinned back and then went about getting the tray ready for Harry. "Harry...." Ginny said quietly, gently shaking him. "Mhhhmmmm" he whispered, shifting slightly and replacing his arm around Ginny. "Harry you need to get up and have something to eat," Ginny said again quietly, brushing a hand against his cheek. "Not hungry...." he breathed, yawning and rolling towards her. "Harry you eat like Ron....you're always hungry," she teased, shaking him again. "Come on." "You're lips tasted good.....not hungry anymore," he said sleepily, his eyes still resolutely cold. Ginny glanced up at her mother, who no doubt had heard Harry's comment. "Well I don't think Mum approves that my lips have any nutritional value. So if you want to get better you need to get up and eat," Ginny said. At the word 'mum,' Harry's eyes flew open and looked almost terrified at Gin. He was wide awake now. "Your Mum?" he whispered. "Is she here?" Ginny nodded. "Is she going to throttle me?" he asked. "Only if you don't get up and take a bit of food," Ginny replied. "Come Harry," Mrs. Weasley said from the side of the bed, "before it gets cold." "Hi Mrs. Weasley," Harry greeted her sheepishly as he rolled over to see her standing above him with a tray of food, a wide smirk plastered across her face. Ginny helped him sit up against the pillows. When Harry was comfortable, Mrs. Weasley spread the tray across his lap, telling him very motherly to take his time. He spent the next hour or so eating his soup and drinking his pumpkin juice, before enjoying his first dessert of home-made vanilla ice cream, with Ginny sitting on the edge of his bed engaging him and Mrs. Weasley in small conversation. As Harry sat there sipping his soup and letting the ice cream melt in his mouth, he couldn't help but feel a little happier and lighter than he had earlier in the day. And he couldn't help but feel that he was beginning to get his life back, that sense of normalcy. |
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