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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Fluff, General, Romance Warnings: Extreme Language, Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 725 Summary: Their nightmares and demons bound them together. Their love helped them to survive. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley knew they needed each other; the trouble was in admitting it. Hitcount: Story Total: 277268; Chapter Total: 17453 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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Chapter 3 Brilliant didn’t even begin to describe Ginny Weasley, Harry decided two days later. She was feisty, funny, smart and, despite what she thought, not weak at all. Regardless of Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley’s best efforts, Ginny and Harry had both wound up testifying at the Ministry hearing. Ginny had answered each question clearly and concisely with only the occasional waver to her voice. Harry had listened, fascinated, as she told the story from her point of view and he was struck again with the truth of Dumbledore’s words. She appeared to have fought Tom Riddle’s possession very hard. Indeed, it was only after the whole year that she totally succumbed. Ginny described how she’d lost time and would wake up in her dorm room, covered in blood and chicken feathers with no idea of how they’d gotten there. Even with Dumbledore and Harry’s testimony that the diary belonged to Tom Riddle who later became Lord Voldemort, the Wizagenmot refused to acknowledge that she had been possessed by a relic of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. They declared instead that she had been the unfortunate victim of dark magic and claimed that since the diary could not be produced, there was no way to determine that it had belonged to Tom Riddle. Ginny had sat in her chair, an angry look on her face and had even opened her mouth to speak but a stern look from her father made her close it with a disgruntled snap. The trip back to Hogwarts was a lot more fun with Ginny in their compartment. She teased Ron and Hermione until Harry thought his sides would burst. When Malfoy came in, she sent him on his way with a scathing comment that turned the Slytherin’s face bright red and that even Crabbe and Goyle snickered at until Malfoy silenced them with a look. Everything was going great until the Dementors came looking for Sirius Black. Then the screams of his mother echoed in his head and he passed out. Ginny was looking decidedly pale as well but he was too concerned with his own reaction to the Dementors to think about what she might have been hearing in her head. He cursed himself for his thoughtlessness much later when he noticed she was just picking at her food at the opening feast. Her face looked strained and she was gripping her fork with a white-knuckled fist. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly from across the table. She put down her fork and glared at him. “I’m fine.” He raised his eyebrows at her but didn’t push the issue. He broached the subject again when they were making their way to the common room. He lagged behind Ron and Hermione and fell into step with Ginny. “Ginny, are you sure you’re okay?” he asked in a low voice. “Bloody hell, I hate it when people ask me that. I am fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Why do you keep asking me that?” “I thought maybe the Dementors,” he hesitated. “Well, I thought they might have brought up some bad memories.” “I can handle it, Harry,” she said shortly. “I wasn’t the one fainting after all.” Harry felt like she’d slapped him. “I see. Well, sorry to be such a bother.” He sped up and joined Ron and Hermione again. Inside he was seething. He’d just been trying to be nice. They’d agreed to be friends after all. Harry didn’t talk again to Ginny that night or the rest of the week. He didn’t avoid her exactly, but he didn’t go out of his way to speak to her. She didn’t try very hard to talk to him either but several times he thought she looked like she wanted to say something and then changed her mind. Saturday night Harry woke up in a sudden sweat. He’d been having a nightmare but he couldn’t remember it after he woke up. He got out of bed to get a drink of water and, deciding sleep was probably not an option anymore, grabbed his invisibility cloak and headed for the common room. He stopped short when he saw Ginny lying on the couch in front of the fire. She had dark circles under her eyes and looked exhausted. “Ginny?” He stepped around to the front of the couch so she could see him. Ginny looked up and smiled slightly at him. “Well, this is familiar.” He grinned back. “Yeah. Can I sit down?” She nodded and Harry took the closest armchair. They sat in silence for a while and Harry felt his eyes begin to droop closed. “I heard Tom,” she said suddenly. He looked at her as she pushed herself up and sat cross-legged on the couch. “When?” “On the train,” she said impatiently. “The Dementors. You asked if I was all right. I wasn’t. I heard Tom, when the Dementor came into the compartment.” Harry wasn’t sure if he should provide sympathy or what. She sounded very matter-of-fact. As if she was stating the answer to an arithmancy problem. “What did he say?” he finally decided on. She shrugged. “The usual. I’m a silly stupid girl who no one cares about. But it was just so real…” she shivered. “Yeah,” Harry agreed. “I…I heard a woman scream. I think it was my mum. You know, just before Voldemort killed her.” The colour washed from Ginny’s face as she stared at him in shock. “That-that’s much worse than mine. Harry, I’m so sorry.” Her sincerity surprised him. She was earnest and sympathetic but she didn’t threaten to collapse into tears or try to hug him. It was…refreshing. “We’ll call it even,” he decided. “They’re both pretty bad.” That earned him a small smile and he noticed that when she smiled, she didn’t look so tired. “You want to hear something weird?” he asked impulsively. “Sure,” she said. “It was the first time I’ve heard my mum’s voice,” Harry said slowly. “I…it was nice,” he finished sheepishly. “Even if it was awful. I don’t have any memories of them and well...” he folded his hands in his lap. “I think that might be the only time I ever get to hear her. Do you think that’s strange?” Ginny sighed heavily. “No,” she said gently. “I think it’s natural to want to know what she sounded like. I would want to know too. But Harry, I don’t think you should go hang out with the Dementors just so you can hear her again.” “I wasn’t planning on it,” he assured her. “But it’s odd, isn’t it? That something so awful like a Dementor gave that to me.” She titled her head and looked at him. He could see the flames from the fire reflecting in her eyes. “It’s kind of ironic, I guess.” She looked down at her lap and began to pick at a loose thread on her pyjama trousers. “Harry, I owe you an apology for snapping at you the other day. That was a horrible thing to say.” She looked up at him, regret on her face. “I wanted to take it back as soon as I said it but I could never get you alone. I was just upset and well…I took it out on you. I’m sorry.” Harry looked at her sternly. “Ginny, we are supposed to be friends. If you need to talk to me alone, you just have to ask. Ron and Hermione and I aren’t attached at the hip.” He paused. “And apology accepted. I reckon I was a being a bit pushy. I know I hate it when people ask me how I am doing all the time.” “I know you’re not attached at the hip to Ron and Hermione but don’t you think they’d like to be to each other?” she waggled her eyebrows at him suggestively. He groaned. “You are disturbing, you know that right?” “I’m just trying to get you prepared for when it finally happens,” she said firmly. “Once they get together they’re going to want some time alone, you know.” Harry’s face must have looked stricken because her eyes went wide and she stammered, “I mean, well, they’ll be a couple and all. But I don’t think they’ll stop being your friends. They’ll still want to be with you.” Harry swallowed. “I hadn’t thought about that, but I suppose you’re right. They’ll probably want to be alone.” “They’ll still want to spend time with you,” she insisted. “Not much will change.” Harry sighed and looked into the fire. “But some of it will change.” He ran a hand through his hair and tugged on it. “At least you’re admitting to the possibility now. I suppose you’ll just have to get a girlfriend yourself then,” she said nonchalantly. “That way you won’t be alone.” Harry looked at her blankly. “No, thanks. Who’d want to date the Boy-Who-Lived? Or, perhaps it’s better to say, who’d want to date the Boy-Who-Nearly-Snuffs-It-Every-June?” Ginny rolled her eyes but let the matter drop. “All right then, how ‘bout this. When Ron and Hermione finally get their heads out of their arses, you come find me and we’ll hang out. In fact, we’ll prank ‘em until they stop snogging.” Harry’s face twisted at the thought of Ron and Hermione snogging and Ginny threw a pillow at him. “Grow up, Potter. People snog you know.” “As long as they don’t snog in front of me,” Harry shivered. “It’d be like watching a brother and sister kissing each other.” “Well, I’ve seen my brothers kiss their girlfriends,” Ginny said, “and although I can confirm it is indeed disgusting, it can be quite interesting once you get past the ookiness.” “When Ron and Hermione start snogging, I’m not getting close enough to see anything,” Harry said decisively. Ginny smiled and stretched back out on the couch, her head pillowed on the armrest. “You know, one of these days, you’re going to find someone you want to snog and you’re going to snog her everywhere and I’m going to remind you of this discussion.” She looked over at Harry, a sly grin on her face. “Unless it’s a ‘he’ you’d want to be snogging.” Harry threw the pillow back at her and she laughed before using it to prop up her head. “I’m going to back to bed,” he announced. “If the thought of Ron and Hermione snogging doesn’t make my nightmares pale by comparison, nothing will.” He hesitated as he passed the couch. “Will you be all right down here? I could stay, you know.” Ginny titled her head up so she could see his face. “I’ll be fine, Harry. Get some sleep.” “Night, Ginny.” “Goodnight, Harry.” ****** Harry watched with mixed feelings as Ron and Hermione left for Hogsmeade, shooting the occasional anxious look back at him. He couldn’t blame them for leaving him. It wasn’t their fault his Uncle Vernon had refused to sign the release form. It wasn’t their fault Harry had lost his temper and blew up Aunt Marge, thereby ruining the deal he’d had with Vernon to sign the form. But dammit, he wanted to go too. He kicked a stone in frustration as he made his way back into the school. Sighing heavily, he trudged up the steps, intending to go back to the tower where he could drown his sorrows in homework. He stopped short when he ran into Fred and George who eyed him mischievously before handing him an old ratty piece of parchment. “What’s this?” he asked, turning the parchment over in his hands. “This,” Fred said dramatically, “is the key to our success.” “Found it our second year, rifling through Filch’s office while we were in detention,” George said. “Go on, have a look at it.” “Um…it just looks like an old piece of parchment,” said Harry, dumbfounded. This was the secret to the Weasley twins’ success? “Oh, sorry,” said George. He took out his wand. “You have to know the password.” He tapped the parchment with his wand while intoning, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” Harry watched in amazement as lines began spreading across the page. The lines formed words, then shapes and eventually it resembled…a map? “Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs present the Mauraders’ Map,” Harry read out loud. “But who are they?” “No idea,” Fred said, glancing at his brother. “But we owe them a lot. They’re our heroes.” Harry gasped in astonishment when he realized what the map was. “This is Hogwarts!” he exclaimed. The map showed the Great Hall, all the classrooms, the dormitories and places Harry had never even been in the castle. He looked closer and noticed that it also identified people in the school. It was a live representation of the happenings at the school. ”Wicked,” he breathed. George grinned evilly. “Now you see why we’ve been so successful.” Fred cleared his throat importantly. “Harry, my boy, we’ve decided to pass on this gift to the younger generation.” “We know you’ll use it for the greater good,” George added. “Pranking.” “Sneaking.” “General mayhem.” “Hogsmeade?” “But how-“ Harry looked up at them. “How does this help me get into Hogsmeade?” “Ah,” Fred said, and he rubbed his hands together. “The best part.” He pointed to a few places on the map. “Look, the map shows secret passageways in the school. This one,” he tapped the map, “is the fastest way into Hogsmeade. We’ve used it loads of times. You think all that Butterbeer after a Quidditch game appears out of nowhere?’’ “Cool,” Harry breathed again. “But wait, I can’t take this, it’s yours–what will you do?” “Please,” George waved a hand dismissively. “We’ve memorized just about everything on that map anyway. And we’ve got other ways of getting around the school without getting caught.” Harry eyed them speculatively but decided he really didn’t want to know. “Well, thanks then. I mean it.” He was strangely touched; that Fred and George would give away one of their greatest secrets so that he could have a trip to Hogsmeade. It was very…perceptive of them. “Oh and don’t forget. If you ever want to turn the map off, you just tap it with your wand like so,” George tapped the parchment, “and say, ‘mischief managed.’” “Run along now, and make us proud,” Fred said, waving his hands merrily. They turned as one to follow the rest of their classmates to Hogsmeade. “Guys,” Harry said. They stopped and looked back at him. “Thanks, I really mean it. This-“ he waved the map, “this is great.” “Don’t get all gushy on us, Potter.” Fred and George smiled at him, identical twin grins, before walking through the front doors. Harry didn’t wait around. He stuffed the map in his pocket and hurried back to his dorm room to retrieve the invisibility cloak. He was just rummaging in his trunk for some galleons when Ginny burst through the door. He straightened up, surprised. She’d never come up to their dorm before. “They gave you the map, didn’t they?” she asked without preamble. “And you’re going to use it to go into Hogsmeade.” Harry’s mouth dropped open. “How on earth did you know that?” “Oh please, Harry,” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Who do you think helped them figure out the passwords to the thing?” “But you would have been like ten years old!” Harry did the math quickly in his head. Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, yes. But I was an exceptionally clever ten-year-old.” Harry shook his head in amazement as shoved his arms into his jacket. “Wanna come with?” He tried to act nonchalant while waiting for her answer. Despite their oaths they would be friends, they hadn’t really spent a lot of time together. He thought maybe she was still having nightmares though; he noticed dark circles underneath her eyes the past few weeks. Ginny titled her head and pursed her lips, considering the idea. “I’d better not,” she said finally. “I’ve got a massive amount of homework I’ve been putting off. I’m supposed to meet some people in the library in a few minutes.” Harry was heartened to see that she at least seemed a little disappointed. “I’ll see you when I get back then, yeah? I’ll bring you some chocolate from Honeydukes.” “Thanks,” she grinned. “Good luck. I hope you don’t get caught.” Harry held up the Marauders’ Map and his invisibility cloak. “Please. Give me a little credit.” Ginny smirked and turned to go. “I just did.” ******* Harry ran as fast as he could back to Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy had seen him, he was almost sure of it; the git was probably on his way to tell Snape right now. Harry had to make it back before Draco and he had to make it look like he’d been there the whole time. Luckily, he knew about the tunnel leading from Hogwarts to Honeydukes’ cellar and Draco didn’t. He silently praised Fred and George Weasley as he ran, reminding himself to do something extra nice for them if he got out of this with no detention. Panting, he reached the end of the tunnel and took the steps two at a time to come up underneath the statue of the one-eyed witch. Cautiously he whispered the password and moved the statue slightly so he could see around the corner before he crawled out. Looking down at the map, he was engrossed in searching for nearby tattle-tellers when he heard a low hiss from the side corridor. Startled, he looked up and saw Ginny. She was lagging behind a group of second-years, her satchel of books slung diagonally across her chest. She had noticed him coming out of the ground and looked amused as their eyes met but then Harry watched as a stricken look came over her face and she looked back at him, wide-eyed. Harry looked back down at the map and saw Snape was walking directly towards them. He was probably on his way to Gryffindor Tower to check Draco’s story and if Harry came out now, he’d walk right into him. Ginny looked in horror at Harry and then back at Snape, who was striding towards them with his usual sneer. There was no way he could miss Harry’s head sticking out of the floor underneath the statue. He was almost upon the niche in the wall where the statue stood. Harry would be caught for sure; and the punishment for sneaking out of Hogwarts and going to Hogsmeade must be severe. Thinking quickly, Ginny dug in her satchel for a handful of dung bombs Fred and George had gifted her with and, making sure Snape would see her, ran over and threw them in the nearby boy’s bathroom. There was a loud explosion and a horrible stench began to fill the hallway. Several boys ran coughing out of the bathroom as smoke billowed out into the corridor. “Miss Weasley!” Snape roared. Ginny stopped her retreat and plastered a “oh no, you’ve caught me” expression on her face. “Professor, I-I didn’t see you there.” “No, I guess you didn’t,” Snape said icily. “But then you were busy with other things, weren’t you? Tell me, do you really think a ridiculously childish dung bomb is amusing?” “Um, yes?” Ginny tried not to watch as Harry climbed swiftly out from underneath the statue and swirled the invisibility cloak over his body. She hoped fervently he was going to run like the wind back to the dormitory. Snape smiled coldly. “Well, since you like things that make a lot of noise and smell, you won’t mind serving detention with me Monday evening. I’m sure we can find something to meet your interests.” “Yes, Professor. Sorry, Professor.” Ginny tried to look properly chastised and humbled. She didn’t think he was fooled. “By the way, have you seen Mr. Potter? I wish to speak with him.” ”Harry? Gee, professor, I don’t know. I think he said he was going to the library earlier.” “Excellent. Then you won’t mind if I accompany you back to Gryffindor Tower to check if he has made it back yet.” Ginny swallowed and nodded as Snape fell into step beside her. He walked her back to the Tower, a dark looming presence beside her. Ginny tried to feel sorry that she’d willingly provoked him into giving her detention just so Harry could escape but she couldn’t. She’d been watching as Harry had said goodbye to Ron and Hermione earlier and the look on his face had disturbed her. It just wasn’t fair that those stupid Muggles he called his family were so cruel. It was a harmless trip into Hogsmeade. Why should Harry be left behind unable to enjoy something so basic? When they reached the final flight of stairs leading to Gryffindor Tower, they both stopped short at the growing crowd of people around the Fat Lady’s portrait. Snape took one look at the slashed painting and turned around, his black robes whirling around him as he hurried down the steps. “Ginny? What happened?” She looked over her shoulder to see Harry, Ron and Hermione standing behind her, a step below. “I don’t know,” she said worriedly. “Harry what took you so long? I thought you were ahead of us.” “Ran into Ron and Hermione on the way back.” “Well, I told Snape I thought you were going to the library today. So remember that if he asks.” Harry was about to throw himself down at Ginny’s feet to thank her for what she’d done for him but Filch and Dumbledore showed up just then and chaos reigned when the Fat Lady named Sirius Black as her attacker. The conversation he had overheard in the Three Broomsticks between Professor McGonagall, Cornelius Fudge and Madame Rosemerta came rushing back and the fact that Sirius Black hated him enough to sneak into Hogwarts dazed Harry. How could Black have betrayed his best friends to Voldemort? What did Voldemort do for Black that James and Lily Potter hadn’t? Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione out of the corner of his eye. He could never do such a thing to them. Harry spent the rest of the evening silently brooding in front of the fire. He was used to someone wanting to kill him but it bothered him that the sanctity of Gryffindor Tower had been compromised. Now everyone else would feel unsafe. And hadn’t Sirius Black been a Gryffindor? How demented must he be? Ron and Hermione soon said goodnight and he watched them go, wanting to tell them that he would never betray his friends the way Black had done. He hoped they already knew this but he had been so shook up by the day’s revelations that he thought it might bear repeating. Ginny joined him in front of the fireplace and they sat in a comfortable silence until Harry became aware that they were the only ones in the common room. “I meant to thank you for earlier,” he said, breaking the silence. “I can’t believe you did that for me.” Ginny shrugged, her eyes still on the flames “S’not like you haven’t ever done anything for me.” “Ginny,” Harry said impatiently. “I didn’t do that because I expected some sort of repayment.” She turned bright brown eyes to him. If he looked closely, he could see the flames reflected in them. “I know,” she said simply. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t owe you. If I can do something for you I will.” ”Besides,” she said darkly, looking back at the fireplace, “you should have been able to go. It’s not fair you have to live with those awful Muggles.” Harry couldn’t disagree with her there. “Well, I still appreciate it. He gave you detention, didn’t he?” “Yes.” Harry winced. “Damn, Ginny, I’m sorry. It wasn’t worth it. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll…do your homework that night or something.” Ginny smiled. “But then I would just owe you more,” she pointed out. “Don’t worry, Harry. It will be fine. This is what friends do for each other, you know.” Harry sighed, tired of arguing with her. “Can I ask you something, Harry?” Ginny twisted her torso so that she fully faced him on the couch. “Anything,” he replied. “Why did you come after me? To the Chamber I mean?” “You’re a Weasley,” Harry answered almost immediately. He didn’t feel he needed to elaborate but he plugged on anyway. “You’re Ron’s sister and he’s my best mate. I couldn’t let him…or any of your family…suffer. Not when there was something I could do.” He looked at her anxiously. “I’m sorry it wasn’t for a more personal reason; that we weren’t friends.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Are you ever going to stop feeling guilty about that?” “Probably not.” “Fine, then I’m not going to stop throwing dungbombs into the boys’ loo if it gets you out of trouble with Snape.” “Deal. But then I get to rescue you any time, anywhere,” Harry countered. “Not if I rescue you first,” she shot back. Harry opened his mouth to reply but then shut it, opting instead to simply grin at her. She’d brought him out of his funk. He’d started to notice that Ginny Weasley did that more and more; it seemed to be effortless for her. “Can I ask you another question?” ”Bloody hell, woman,” he said good-naturedly, “do you ever stop asking questions?” “Well, it’s more of an observation,” she clarified. “Go ahead.” Harry settled back further into the cushions to get comfortable. “Sirius Black,” Ginny stated. “It bothers you.” Harry immediately stiffened. How much did she know? Did everyone but him know that Sirius Black had betrayed his parent’s to Voldemort? And if they did, why hadn’t anyone thought to tell him? “It’s no good getting angry at me,” she said practically. “I didn’t know you didn’t know about what had happened. I thought my dad told you when we were at the Leaky Cauldron.” Harry lifted an eyebrow, wondering if she could read minds. “Well, he didn’t,” he said shortly. “He told me Black was after me but he didn’t tell me the whole story. I just found today actually; I overheard Professor McGonagall talking with Madame Rosmerta and Cornelius Fudge at the pub.” “Sorry,” Ginny said sympathetically. Harry’s good mood had evaporated as quickly as it had come. He went back to stewing for a few moments until: “I just wish I understood! I mean…how could he do that to them? He was their friend!” The thought of doing something like that to Ron and Hermione made him feel sick to his stomach. How could Black have done it? Ginny hugged one knee to her chest and rested her chin on it, leaving the other leg to dangle off the couch. Harry was amused to see that her leg didn’t even reach the floor. “You’re sure he’s guilty then,” she asked. Harry looked at her in astonishment. “He was sent to Azakaban for 12 years! There were a dozen witnesses to his murder of Peter Pettigrew and he was their secret keeper. How else would Voldemort have found them?” Ginny shook her head. “I don’t know. But I got Bill to tell me the story once when I was about 9 years old; my mum didn’t want me knowing but Bill–he’s never been able to deny me anything when I ask properly. What happened–it’s always bothered me.” “Why?” ”Well,” she said slowly, drawing out the word as she gathered her thoughts. “They never tried Sirius Black–they just sent him straight to Azkaban. So no one ever heard his side of the story. And that business about Peter Pettigrew’s finger…that’s always bugged me. If Sirius Black killed him with a spell powerful enough to kill twelve muggles and obliterate his body, why was only the finger, and no other bits, left behind? I mean, think about it, Harry-” Ginny turned to him eagerly and pointed her hand at him as if she was holding a wand. “If I want to kill you, I point my wand in one of two places, your heart or your head, right?” Harry nodded reluctantly. “Sure, I suppose.” “But if I point my wand at your head, then the blast blows your body into pieces beginning with your head. So everything is obliterated moving downwards, do you follow?” ”Maybe.” Harry tried to picture his body blowing up in the manner she suggested and made a face. This was a morbid exercise. “So how is the finger left?” she said impatiently. “It would have been a toe or something because the blast loses momentum as it moves downward. And presumably you’d put up your hands or something to stop me. So they’d be the first to go. Same thing if I get you in the chest. Then the blast would move outward in all directions, it’d be sure to get your hands. And how could a spell totally eliminate all parts of a body except for a little finger? You’d think if it left that, there would be more as well.” “Anyway,” she continued thoughtfully. “It’s weird and has never made sense to me.” “You’re scary, you know that, right?” Ginny shot him a grin. “Yeah, guess I’ve thought too much about it. You know that Sirius protested his innocence up to the very end?” She looked at him sharply. “He always said he wasn’t guilty.” “So did a lot of Death Eaters, I imagine,” Harry said. “Yeah,” she conceded. “But…” “What?” She looked at him apologetically. “I used to ask my mum and dad to tell me stories about you when I was a little girl. Had a bit of a crush on you, even before I knew you…and well, a little after I knew you too.” A little bit of pink came into her cheeks and Harry thought it was adorable. “How could you crush on me when you didn’t even know me?” She shrugged and managed a small grin. “I don’t know. But I used to drive my mum batty asking for stories about Harry Potter. When she’d run out of them, she would tell me stories about your parents. She didn’t know them very well but she’d heard all kinds of stories about your dad and Sirius at Hogwarts. Apparently the two of them were some sort of legend; all kinds of pranks and stuff. They used to hang out with Professor Lupin and of course, Peter Pettigrew.” Harry recalled McGonagall talking about how James Potter and Sirius Black had been the best of friends. “Thick as thieves,” she’d said. “What’s your point? We knew they were friends. He betrayed them.” “Well, that’s sort of my point,” she said thoughtfully. “I never knew your dad but I’ve heard loads about him; he doesn’t seem like the type to make friends with someone who would betray him completely out of the blue like that.” Harry stared at her. Once again, she managed to put his thoughts into words. He had been wondering the same thing. How had James Potter been fooled by Sirius Black? They’d been friends a long time, according to Professor McGonagall. It was hard to believe his dad had trusted someone who would later betray him so violently. “I don’t know, Ginny,” Harry shook his head. “But you and I know better than anyone how Voldemort works; he probably made it all too easy for friends to betray each other. And the Fidelius charm was broken somehow. Sirius was the secret keeper; how else would Voldemort have found out if Sirius didn’t tell him?” “Yeah,” she said dully. “I guess you’re right. I just…well, I just can’t ever imagine betraying my friends that way. Can you?” She looked at him, her large brown eyes widening even more in her sincerity. Harry swallowed as he met her gaze. He didn’t know how he knew it, but he was positive Ginny had just included him in that statement. Harry never thought much about anyone betraying him, least of all Ginny; but it was nice to have it confirmed. “Never,” he said fiercely. “I would never do that.” ******* Two nights later, Harry was sitting in the common room with Ron and Hermione, listening to them bicker over Hermione’s cat Crookshanks and Ron’s pet rat, Scabbers. Personally, he thought Ron was being a bit unreasonable; Scabbers was a rat after all, and Crookshanks a cat. How was Hermione supposed to combat thousands of years of feline instinct? He didn’t dare voice his opinion though, lest Ron direct his anger towards him. The portrait door opened and Harry turned to see Ginny climb through. She was white as a sheet and if Harry was not mistaken, shaking like a leaf; it looked like she was struggling to keep a grip on the bag in her hands. Casting a look back at Ron and Hermione and deciding they were too engrossed in their argument to notice his absence, he got up and walked over to her. “Ginny?” He asked in a low voice. “Are you all right?” He took her bag from her and put out a hand to catch her as she stumbled and latched onto his forearm in an effort to stay upright. “Ginny?” He repeated, now a bit alarmed. “What’s wrong, what happened?” Ginny’s unfocused eyes swirled a bit until they finally found Harry’s face. “H-Harry!” she stuttered. “I-I-I-” “Come over here.” Harry looked around to make sure no one was watching them and as Ron and Hermione were too intent on ignoring each other on the other side of the room, he led Ginny to a more private couch by the stairs. Ginny sank into the couch cushions as if she couldn’t bear to stand any longer; she still maintained her death-like grip on Harry’s arm. “I-I had detention-“ ”What did Snape do?” he interrupted harshly. “That git, if he-“ Ginny shook her head rapidly. “N-no…not Snape.” She took a deep breath and let go of her grip on Harry’s forearm to cover her face with her hands. “Ginny?” Harry asked anxiously. He remained silent while she took several cleansing breaths and then lifted her head. “I’m sorry, Harry,” she said harshly. “I just, well I’ve just had a bit of a shock.” He didn’t ask, not knowing if he should pry. “Stupid of me, really, not to have expected it,” she shook her head. “I can’t believe I never even thought of this.” “Thought of what, Ginny?” Ginny eyed him as if she was sizing up whether he deserved to know what was going on. Harry knew he had no real business prying into what was bothering Ginny; their friendship was only beginning. The level of concern he felt at this moment made him…uncomfortable. “I don’t think I have to ask you to keep this to yourself,” she said flatly. Her eyes strayed towards Ron and Hermione who were studiously ignoring each other. “Of course,” Harry said immediately. She took another deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. “I was walking back from detention,” she began, looking down at her knees, “and I decided to take that shortcut by the Slytherin common room, you know the one behind the tapestry of Piffy and the Camels?” Harry shook his head. “I had no idea there was a shortcut down there.” “It’s on the map,” she said dismissively, waving her hand. “Anyway, I was about halfway down the corridor when the strap on my bag broke,” she gestured to the satchel at her feet and Harry could see the frayed edges where the strap had broken. “I lit my wand so I could pick up everything and when I’d finished, I noticed a large snake carved into the wall.” She swallowed. “It looked like…some of the carvings down in the Chamber,” her voice lowering to a near-whisper. “And I just stared at it. I couldn’t seem to-to tear my eyes from it and then it-it started to move.” She looked up at Harry, her eyes wide, her face frightened. Harry hadn’t seen that look since she’d woken up in the Chamber of Secrets. “And then I realized that it was moving because…because I was asking it to ‘open.’” ”Harry,” she said urgently. “I was speaking parseltongue.” Whatever he’d expected Ginny to say, it was not that. Harry usually forgot that he could speak parseltongue and since he’d learned that it was part of the magic Voldemort had left inside of him the night he’d tried to kill him, he hadn’t thought about it at all. “You-you’re sure?” ”Yes, of course, I’m sure,” Ginny said irritably. “And the bloody snake opened up a doorway, didn’t it? I had to stare at the snake carving forever to get it to close again.” She shuddered. “What was behind the door?” Harry asked curiously. Ginny shrugged. “Another shortcut. Probably led straight to the Slytherin dormitories. That’s not the point, Harry!” She shouted the last bit and flinched when several people glanced over at them. “The point is that the only time I’ve ever been able to speak parseltongue is when Tom Riddle was possessing me!” she whispered fiercely. Harry felt his own eyes widen; he understood how it was that Ginny could suddenly speak parseltongue; in fact, this conversation had suddenly taken an eerily familiar turn. “What does it mean, you think?” Harry stood up and held out his hand. “It means,” he said grimly, “that we are going to see Professor Dumbledore.” |
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