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Don't Give Up On Me | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Romance Warnings: Death, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Violence Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 173 Summary: Harry Potter has a destiny to defeat Voldemort and save the Wizarding World, but it’s hard to do when he’s the only one who knows that the Dark Lord has returned. Hitcount: Story Total: 50418; Chapter Total: 1589 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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The memory faded and another took its place, but not much changed with the scene. Moody was gone, the horcruxes were no longer on the desk. Dumbledore sat, shoulders stooped and looking small in the busy room. “Harry.” Harry startled at Dumbledore speaking directly to him and almost replied. His throat closed over any words he might say, and he nodded instead. “I am so very sorry to have had to share these things with you in this way. We discussed them many times together in this very office but I’m afraid the machinations of Voldemort have beaten me this time and I have been unable to find the source of the memory charm that I fear has been placed upon the entire Wizarding World.” Harry breathed out a sigh and slid his arm around Ginny, who had begun sniffling as she watched the aged Headmaster speak to the empty room. “There is so much I need to tell you, my boy, so much that you need to know, but my time is running short. The curse that was protecting the ring, I’m afraid, has gotten the better of me.” He lifted his hand and his robes fell back, showing a completely black hand and arm. “Professor Snape has been able to stay the damage with potions for this long, but the end has come.” A coughing attack hit the Headmaster and Harry stepped forward, his arm outstretched. But there was nothing that could be done. Dumbledore had ceased to exist and only lived in these memories. “Voldemort has seeped into the very heart of the Ministry, Harry. I’m afraid that it is not safe to trust very many people. He changes people, Harry, into the vilest things you can imagine. He rose to power once before, when your parents were at school, but he was not subtle about his desires to purify the Wizarding World then.” “Blood status,” Harry said, giving a knowing look to Ginny. “Your parents were part of a group of people called the Order of the Phoenix who opposed him, and they paid with their lives. Voldemort killed them to get to you, Harry. Your mother stood in front of you when he tried to kill you. Her sacrifice caused the curse to rebound upon him, banishing him from his body for a time. Only the horcruxes he had made kept his soul tethered to this earth. That is where the scar on your forehead came from. You are known as the Boy Who Lived or should be. And there is a prophecy, Harry, that you will be his downfall.” He went on to recite the wording to Harry, who felt as if he weighed a million stone. The words echoed in his head, rattling around like loose gobstones. He felt Ginny there next to him, anchoring him to the floor, but he couldn’t feel much else. “I have placed key memories of mine into a vial that I will give you, and I will place this memory last of all, so that one day you will understand.” The depth in Dumbledore’s eyes, the sorrow and distance, made Harry’s heart thunder in his chest. “I have shown you the horcruxes and told you what I believe the others are. These must be destroyed, Harry, before Voldemort is faced. I believe that as time goes on, he will grow tired of hiding in the shadows and his agenda will be more and more clear. You will see things that feel wrong to you, but you may not understand why. This is Voldemort’s influence.” “How?” Harry asked in a hoarse whisper. “How do I...how do I kill him?” “Remember, help will always be given to those who ask.” Behind him, Fawkes gave a trill of song that seemed to buoy up the Headmaster. “Harry, I wish that things did not happen this way. I wish that you could remember our talks, remember the things that we spoke about and the things that we did together. But most of all, I wish that you did not have to feel alone while you accomplish this task.” A great sigh shuddered through him and Harry thought he looked like he might expire at any minute. Harry wondered how much longer Dumbledore had at this point--days, or mere hours? “You are never alone; there are people--good people--who will help you along the way. Look for them, but keep the secret of the prophecy and horcruxes, please. Even good people can make mistakes. If Voldemort finds out that you know, that you are a threat to him, it will overrule the fear he has of facing you once more and he will come for you directly. Use the shadows that you now enjoy, Harry, to work, and work quickly. I have left something for you at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall knows where to find it when you are ready. “I have faith in you, Harry. I know you can accomplish this. And I know that one day you will be happy, find love, and have everything that you desire, my boy.” The Headmaster’s eyes sparkled in the low light of the room and Harry thought there might be tears there. He was close to crying, too, and Ginny had given up fighting it. Tears streamed down her face and she used the sleeve of her robes to wipe her eyes and runny nose. The memory faded and Harry’s head spun as he and Ginny moved toward the ceiling, through cold and darkness, and back onto the solid stone floor of Grimmauld Place. “Harry--” “Don’t,” he bit out and slammed his eyes closed. There was too much in his head, too much to think about, and too many questions. He felt the floor rising up toward him, scrabbled for the edge of the table and missed. The last thing he remembered was his head hitting the hard floor, and then blackness. Xxxxx In the hazy moments of waking, Harry felt the weight of Ginny next to him, the tickle of her hair on his face, and the warmth of her body pressed to his. “I had the strangest dream,” he murmured. He kept his eyes closed as his arms pulled her closer, breathing in the floral scent of her shampoo. She arched against him and Harry gave himself over to the emotions bubbling inside him. The dream played about the edges of his mind, but Harry didn’t want to think about it; he wanted only what was here, right now. “Harry?” Her sleepy voice called to him and Harry fumbled to find the best places to touch, the things that made her breathing hitch and her heart race. He could feel it beat now against his chest and it made him smile. His fingers ran up and down her arms, raising goosebumps. They trailed over the soft, fragrant flesh of her neck, under her ear, along her jawline. And they teased the pale bit of skin at her waist, where her shirt had ridden up in sleep. “Ginny.” He cracked open his eyes and found that it was early morning. Barely any light illuminated the room, but he could see the shine of her eyes. “I love you, Ginny.” He felt that he needed to kiss her, to drown in her. Ginny reciprocated and didn’t pull away when Harry rolled them until he was resting on top of her. They’d never been like this before; Harry had always been so careful, so cautious. He was tired of that. Reckless abandon seized him, and he pushed all rational thought out of his mind. He needed this. “I love you, Harry,” she responded back. “You need to wake up, though.” Her hands were on his back, fingertips digging in. “M’wake,” he murmured as he kissed along her jawline down to her ear. Ginny arched, setting off the most delicious feeling rocketing through him. He felt lit up, like a Weasley Whiz-Bang Firework had gone off inside his body. “Just want to feel you.” “Harry...Harry, look at me.” She pushed on his shoulders and Harry lifted to look down at her. She was so beautiful, sleep-rumpled with swollen lips from their kisses. They lay there for long moments, their breath mingling while Harry tried to clear the fog of sleep in his mind. The coursing feel of desire was like a fire inside him and he swore he could feel it in Ginny, too. Slowly, he lowered again, humming with pleasure when their bodies met. His hand ventured to her hip, pulling her even closer. Ginny’s hands buried in his hair, holding him to her. “Is this what you need, Harry?” “Yes,” he murmured as his hand slid up into her shirt, exploring the smooth skin there. “Need.” “O-okay,” she said, but her hesitant tone brought a nagging feeling to the back of his mind. Harry tried to smother it with the feel of her, moving against her, letting sensation and desire rule him. He was tired of being in control, anyway. His hand reached what he most wanted to touch, and Ginny arched against him again. He could feel the warmth and pounding of her heartbeat beneath his palm as he handled her breast. She kissed him, almost frantically, and Harry ground down against her. A warning voice, sounding rather like Mr. Weasley, came into his mind and Harry pulled back, lifting off of Ginny and forcing himself to the far side of the bed. His heart raced and clarity settled in--the prophecy, the horcruxes, the memory charms. It pressed down on him, squelching out any desire that had consumed him earlier. “Not...not like that,” he breathed. Ginny adjusted her clothing and crawled toward him. “Harry...it’s okay.” “No, it’s not. I...I almost…” Her shaking arms came around him and Harry fought the urge to push her away. Shame and regret burned inside him. “Not like that,” he said once more. “I thought it was what you needed,” Ginny said. “And...and I feel it too, Harry.” He turned to face her, his hands cupping her cheeks, and pressed his lips to her heated skin under her eye. “I know. I was trying to block it all out. All I wanted was…” “I know,” she said. “Me too.” She tugged at his arms. “Come lay back down.” “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s not...completely gone. I don’t want to lose control again.” “Oh, Harry,” Ginny sighed. “You’re far too controlled. And now that we’re both awake it won’t happen again.” Harry caught her eye and peered at her. “Don’t bet on that, Ginny. You drive me crazy.” “In a good way, I hope.” “In the best way possible, but…” “But it’s not time,” she agreed. She was able to coax him back down. They lay side by side on the rumpled bed. Merlin, he’d almost broken every rule he had for himself, and it had been the most wonderful feeling he’d ever had! “One day,” he promised. The words sounded hollow to him as the truth spread through his body. He couldn’t make promises like that, not with a prophecy looming over him and the almost sure certainty of death. “Stop thinking, Harry,” Ginny warned. “We have time for that when the sun is up. For now, just dream.” “I thought I was dreaming before,” he said. Ginny laid down on his arm, her head tucked under his chin. “Best dream I’ve ever had.” Her low laugh didn’t help, and Harry tucked the bedspread between their bodies, more as a reminder to himself than anything. “Sleep, Harry.” Xxxxx Harry didn’t sleep, and neither did Ginny. They lay in the darkness, blanketed by awkward silence. The ticking of the clock sounded extra loud and Harry wondered what time it actually was; without his glasses, he couldn’t see it at all. “This is stupid,” said Ginny, “we should just get up.” “Alright.” Ginny kicked the blankets away from herself and left the room while Harry watched her go. He reached for his glasses and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting for a while. He heard Ginny moving around in her bedroom and then the closing of the bathroom door before he gathered the energy to move. He hated this feeling between them and felt it was his fault. He’d been so forward and out of control before with her. And even though she’d said that she felt it too, perhaps she’d been saying that to make Harry feel better? He hated that he’d made her feel like she needed to do that, but how could he fix this? Harry got dressed and went downstairs, trying to put it all out of his mind. There was plenty to think about besides what had happened. Entering the kitchen, Harry stared at the soft light of the Pensieve that they’d left out last night. The memories swirled in the basin, cloudy and almost translucent. Harry had the impulse to put his face in again and watch once more, hoping that he’d missed something the first time that would tell him how to proceed. “Stupid to leave them out,” he finally told himself. He used his wand to siphon the memories and place them back in the vial before levitating the Pensieve to the crate it had come in and securing the top back on. He put the vial in his pocket and slid the crate under the table to think about later. While he made breakfast, Harry began to pick apart the memories, adding them to the puzzle that was in mind. They knew that the Ministry had been completely overrun and could not be trusted. Harry now saw the little things they were doing--interfering with Hogwarts, controlling the media, requiring the questionnaire when purchasing things, and changing the structure of the Aurors--for what they were: Voldemort had returned and begun his slow quest to bring the Wizarding World under his control. Harry had the feeling that the more he and Ginny dug into what was happening, the more they would find wrong. He fixed breakfast with mechanical movements while he tried to quell the rising panic that itched below the surface of his skin. Dumbledore had so much faith in Harry, but Harry wasn’t sure he could find it in himself. He was one boy against an entire corrupt Ministry. He burned the toast twice and finally gave it up, sitting down to a simple bowl of Wizard Puffs with questionable milk. He looked up and tried to smile when Ginny came into the room. She returned the stiff expression with a hesitant smile of her own. “Pretty dark in here,” she murmured as she fixed her own breakfast. “Didn’t feel like having light,” Harry grunted out. In truth, he had turned on the gas lamps, leaving them low, but hadn’t lit the fireplace. The whole room was rather icy, he realized. Ginny shivered and Harry dropped his spoon into his cereal before turning and using his wand to light a fire in the grate. “You didn’t have to--” “I’m not going to let you freeze.” Ginny bristled at his tone and he watched as she gathered food, her back toward him. “We need to get more food soon.” “Yeah.” Harry finished off his breakfast and stared down at the empty bowl. His stomach was churning, but he wasn’t sure if it was everything in his head, this thing between he and Ginny, or if the milk had gone off. Ginny sat next to him, like she always did, but far enough away that they weren’t touching. “We need to talk about this.” “What is there to talk about?” Harry asked, feeling slighted. He missed the warm way she normally greeted him. Their closeness had evaporated, and Harry chided himself for ruining it with his hormonal display earlier. Ginny glared at him, but then her look softened. “Sometimes I wonder if you doubt what I feel for you.” Harry gaped at her. “I know you love me. You’ve told me.” “Yes, but...sometimes words don’t convey what I feel.” She picked at her toast, tearing little bits off and chewing them while she measured what to say. “This morning was my fault,” Harry said. “I...I woke up from what I thought was a bad dream and...and…” “And you wanted comfort,” Ginny said, “you wanted to forget about what we’d seen. I can understand that.” “No,” said Harry, but then thought about it. “Maybe. But I still shouldn’t have tried to make you--” “You weren’t making me do anything, Harry. It was my choice, too.” She turned to face him, swinging one leg over the bench and scooting close enough that her knee pressed into his thigh. “Do you think I don’t feel the same way, Harry?” she asked. “Because I do. I... desire you, also. I don’t want things to progress for the wrong reasons, though. We need to both be ready, not dealing with grief, or anger, or sorrow, or even using it as a distraction.” Harry nodded. “That’s why I stopped.” “I know,” she said. “I want you to know that it’s not just you.” Harry looked at her and felt a small bit of burden lift away. He smiled and reached for her hand, but Ginny wasn’t done yet. “But I also don’t want you treating me like glass, or shutting me out, Harry. We’re in this together.” He wanted to point out that her name wasn’t attached to a dirty, great prophecy, but bit back the comment. “I know.” She seemed satisfied with his answer and turned back to her breakfast. “Do you want to talk about what we saw last night?” Harry let the question roll over in his mind and the panic beginning to rise again. “No.” Ginny jabbed her finger into his side and Harry flinched. “That, right there,” she said. “You’re shutting me out.” “I...I haven’t even wrapped my head around this yet, Ginny,” Harry snapped. “You heard what the prophecy said. I have to kill him. I don’t even remember who this person is, or that he...he killed my parents.” He stumbled over the last part, only now realizing how angry he was about it. “It’s not fair that they took that from me.” “No, it’s not.” “They took it from Sirius and Remus, too, you know. They don’t get to mourn their friends properly. And I know that Dumbledore said this memory thing was over the Wizarding World, but it must be over everyone else, too, because my Aunt and Uncle...they didn’t know, either.” “Or they did, but your memory of it was removed, or covered,” said Ginny. “I don’t understand how it all works, yet, or why it happened.” “So that he could do all this stuff in secret,” Harry grumbled. “So, he wouldn’t get caught, like last time.” “He didn’t get caught. You stopped him, Harry,” Ginny said. “No,” he said, “it was my mum. She did it.” He felt weird about saying that. The only things he knew about his parents were learned from second-hand sources. Sirius had told him some, his Aunt and Uncle had said nasty, spiteful things, and now this. None of it helped him understand who he was better. “I know what the prophecy said, Harry,” Ginny said with a sigh. “And while I don’t know how it will play out yet, I know that you’re capable of--” Harry spun on her, jerking in his seat. “You think I can kill someone?! Am I capable of that, Ginny? Great Merlin!” Ginny took a shaky breath. “You’re capable of protecting those you love. You’re capable of seeing what’s wrong in this world and doing something to fix it.” “I don’t even know where to start, Ginny.” “I know.” They both stared ahead and only looked up when Hedwig rapped on the narrow window at the far end of the kitchen. Ginny walked over and opened the latch, letting her inside. She landed on the table near Harry and dropped the morning’s edition of The Daily Prophet. “Good hunting, Hedwig?” Harry asked. He ran the back of his finger along her feathers and she nipped at him. It was a simple affection that they’d shared regularly through the years and it made Harry feel a little bit normal for a moment. “I’ve always loved that owl,” Ginny murmured as she retook her seat, sliding a bit closer to him this time. Hedwig made little sounds that Harry smiled at. “She’s talking to you.” Ginny smiled and nodded. “I can only imagine what she’s telling me. She’s saying that you can sometimes be a git, but that she knows you love me and that I need to take care of you.” Harry scoffed. “We take care of each other.” “Right.” With one last little nip at Harry’s fingers, Hedwig alighted to her perch, where she fussed at her feathers for a few minutes and then tucked her face under her wing. Harry began to unroll the scroll and his heart dropped at the headline there. “Oh no,” Harry breathed, “this can’t be good.” Ginny leaned over his shoulder to read. The Ministry of Magic has announced that due to a recent outbreak of Lycanthropy infections in Great Britain, they will be working with those infected to provide--free of cost--the vital, yet expensive, Wolfsbane Potion. Madam Dolores Umbridge, Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, was on hand to give The Daily Prophet a one-on-one interview at the start of this revolutionary new measure sure to help so many people. “The Ministry wants to be able to help these poor creatures,” she said. “They suffer horribly during the full moon, and it’s unnecessary. Wolfsbane potion does not cure Lycanthropy, but it does help relieve the symptoms and control their dementia. It’s best for all the Wizarding population if these creatures are well cared for and provided with the necessary means to treat them. We wouldn’t want more attacks on helpless individuals, now would we?” Harry stopped reading and looked at Ginny. “Have there been werewolf attacks?” “A few more than usual,” Ginny said. “I put them on our wall under ‘Mysteries’.” She pointed to the section and Harry nodded. He didn’t remember reading about them, but Ginny was much more thorough about things than he was. “What’s usual, though?” “I don’t know.” Ginny’s face scrunched up as she thought about it. “It’s not something that’s talked about, I don’t think. But I don’t remember ever meeting anyone, other than Professor Lupin.” Harry nodded and turned back to the article. “Under this new program,” Madam Umbridge continued, “those infected would come into the Ministry monthly to receive their necessary dose and to stay in a well-protected environment while they transform. The Ministry wants to make sure that their needs are met. It’s a harsh reality of our world that often these poor creatures are thrust away from their families and live on the edges of society. A necessity for the safety of those they come into contact with, but not always the most pleasant aspect of the deformity. What about infected werewolves who are unable to travel to the Ministry to receive the potion? Madam Umbridge was full of sympathy for them. “Yes, I understand that it may be hardship for some,” she said, “but it is vital that they obey the new laws and take what the Ministry is offering to them. Surely they will want to take advantage of the generosity of the Ministry!” “Merlin,” Harry said. “I don’t know who this woman is, but I hate her already.” He shoved the paper away from himself and scowled down at the tabletop. “Registering them, imprisoning them, making them feel less than human… Beasts, creatures, deformity, infected.” He scoffed at the words used, knowing that they were chosen specifically to breed distrust, fear, and anger in the everyday witch and wizard. “I’m betting we won’t be seeing Remus anytime soon,” said Ginny with a sigh. Harry hadn’t thought about that, but he guessed she was right. Lupin wouldn’t be involved in any sort of Ministry control program. “Yeah, he’ll stay away, which means that we won’t be seeing Sirius anytime soon, either.” Ginny’s hand rested on Harry’s shoulder and he reached up to place his over the top of hers. “I’m sorry, Harry. I know that you probably want to talk to Sirius about all we’ve learned.” “I don’t know.”. There was a part of him that had built a sort of wall about Sirius Black in his mind. He wanted to trust him, to love him, even, but something seemed to be missing between them. He wondered if the Ministry’s memory charm wasn’t in place if things would be different. Now, it seemed they didn’t connect with each other. “I need to shower,” he mumbled, “then I need to go to Hogwarts.” “We,” Ginny corrected with a spark in her eyes. “Don’t shut me out of this, Harry. Besides, I have something I want to check in the library.” Harry wanted to protest; there was a part of him that wanted Ginny to stay at Grimmauld Place, where she was protected, but he also knew that wasn’t fair. Instead, he nodded and excused himself after clearing the table. “Maybe Dumbledore left me a spell that will clean up this mess,” Harry told himself as he walked up the stairs. It would make it all easier if there was a simple magic spell that Harry could learn that would put everything right. “Then again,” he reasoned, “when has life ever been that easy?” |
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