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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: 50383; Chapter Total: 1298 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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The plan wasn’t solid in his mind, but that didn’t bother Harry as much as it should have. Besides, all their plans usually fell apart, anyway. When they arrived in the Shrieking Shack, Harry looked around and decided that he was glad he’d never considered coming here before. It was filthy; dust and dirt coated every surface of the torn up, broken furniture. Rags and bits of ripped fabric lay scattered on the floor. He tried to imagine the violence that must have taken place here when Remus would transform before the Wolfsbane Potion was available to him and it made him shudder. “Remus said the entrance was in the basement,” Ginny urged. Harry shook the thoughts away and focused on what they would need to do to get into the school. His head didn’t hurt for the first time in months, and Harry decided that it was because Voldemort was blocking him out. The last vision he’d had made Voldemort fully aware of this strange connection between them and he was now doing something to stop it from happening. It was a relief. “Let’s go,” said Harry. “I’m not sure how much time we’ll have, and we still need to figure out how to get past Umbridge.” Neville let out a low growl. “That woman…” “We’ll figure it out,” said Hermione. She’d arrived back from checking on her parents moments before they’d departed Grimmauld Place. Harry wished there was time to talk to her more; she looked pale and distracted since returning and he wondered if the release of the memory charm had caused it. Ron led the way down a narrow set of stairs and toward a door that was barred from the inside. He removed the boards that secured it and opened up a web-infested tunnel. “Spiders,” he mumbled with a sigh. “Always spiders.” “Budge up,” Ginny said. She used her cleaning charm again and the spiderwebs spun into a ball before disappearing. Harry held his wand out and let a beam of light shine down the dark shaft. More webs decorated it. “Could be worse,” Neville mumbled. “At least there aren’t spiders hanging from them.” Ron glared at him and stood back to allow Neville and Harry to go first into the tunnel. “Remember the knot at the base,” he said, “I’d hate for you to get walloped by that damned tree.” Neville smirked and nodded. “Cheers, Ron.” They walked down the tunnel, stooped over because it wasn’t tall. Harry cleared the webs and Neville held his wand up for light. Harry could feel Ginny’s hand pressed on his low back and hear Ron’s shuffling steps bringing up the rear. Hermione must be just after Ginny, he decided. “Students should be at supper now,” Neville said. “Might be the easiest time to get in, actually.” “I’m sure there have to be enchantments to let them know someone is in the castle who isn’t supposed to be,” said Hermione. “It doesn’t say in Hogwarts, A History?” Harry asked. “No,” Hermione answered waspishly. “Yeah, well, you’re in the presence of someone who is allowed inside,” Neville reminded her. “Or, I was, at least.” “Mum was contacting Professor McGonagall,” Ginny informed them. Harry glanced over his shoulder at her; this was news to him. He opened his mouth to snap, but Ginny continued, cutting him off. “We thought it was prudent to at least let someone know, but I have no idea if the warning made it in time.” “Doesn’t much matter anymore,” said Neville, “we’re here.” He climbed a set of rough-cut stone steps upward and ducked his head out a hole at the base of the Whomping Willow. Harry could hear the creaking and groaning of the tree as the branches began to thrash. “The knot!” Ron urged through clenched teeth. Harry hurried up the steps and stuck his head out to watch as Neville lay flat against the ground, pressing every knot on the base of the tree. Finally, his fingers connected with the correct one and the branches righted themselves and froze in place. “Hurry!” Harry called out behind him. “No telling when it’ll start moving again.” A pile of bodies poured out of the hole as Harry and Neville stood watch over it, their eyes scanning the grounds for any hint of a threat. “To the greenhouses,” Neville said, pointing the way. They ran toward the low, glass structures and Harry felt the strange sensation of being watched. There was nothing for it now, however; they needed into that castle to get the fang from the Chamber. He could feel the weight of the cup horcrux tucked into the pocket of his robes, as well as the other items that Ginny insisted he bring--the Elder wand, Cloak, and ring--in the other pocket. “Tuck to the side,” Neville instructed, “while I get it open.” He began mumbling what sounded to Harry like a string of nonsense words. A few he recognized as names of plants, but there seemed to be a sort of cadence to the way Neville said them, as if he were reciting poetry, or singing. The door made a clicking sound and opened, creaking at the hinges. They peered into the deserted greenhouse and the strong smell of dirt and fertilizer took Harry back to the days when he had Herbology class here. “Come on,” he said, taking the lead. “We’re not all going down into the Chamber,” he informed them. “Just Ginny and I--” “Now, hang on!” Ron grumbled. “We’re supposed to be--” “I need you to keep the way back up protected,” Harry said. “Umbridge will lose her mind when she knows we’re in the castle. It won’t be easy, but the three of you can defend the bathroom well enough.” “Bathroom?” Hermione asked. “The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is in a girls’ bathroom on the second floor,” said Ginny. They entered the castle proper now, taking care to duck through hallways and stay to the shadows as much as possible. It seemed strange to Harry that these halls were the same ones he walked a year ago. It seemed so...distant now. Memories of his time as a student here assaulted his mind, but he pushed them away, trying to focus on the path toward the bathroom. “Not Moaning Myrtle’s?” Hermione questioned, a forlorn expression on her face. “What’s wrong with Myrtle?” Ron asked. He seemed amused at Hermione’s consternation. “Nothing,” she said. “It’s just… She’s not the nicest ghost around, is she?” “No,” agreed Harry, “she’s not.” “It’ll be alright,” murmured Ginny. “She fancies Harry. He’ll charm her.” Neville snickered and Harry elbowed him in the ribs, less than amused. He glared at Ginny, who grinned back, unrepentant. “Let’s keep moving.” Harry stopped in a small alcove. The murmur of voices from the hallway ahead of them stopped him cold. The dinner service must have ended, and students were beginning to leave the Great Hall, moving about the castle. “You two should go on ahead,” Hermione told Harry and Ginny. “Use the Cloak and go. We’ll find a way through this and meet you there. If you don’t see us soon, go into the Chamber.” “Agreed,” said Ron. “It’s too much risk for us all to go this way. We’ll be seen. And we can’t all fit under that Cloak.” Harry and Ginny traded a look and decided to go with that idea. Whatever they did, they needed to get to the Chamber as quickly as they could. “Fine,” said Harry. He pulled out the Cloak from his robe pocket and shook it out. “If anything happens--” “It won’t,” said Hermione. “--but if it does, meet back inside the Shrieking Shack.” A heavy look passed between them all and Harry felt the weight of it, but there wasn’t time to analyze and think about what they were all facing. There was a horcrux to destroy and then...Voldemort. He lifted the Cloak and swirled it over he and Ginny. Her hand slipped into his and they began to move away, sticking to the edges of the hallway as they came into an area populated by students. Progress was slow and Harry thought they’d blown their cover when they bumped into a suit of armor and drew the attention of a group of Hufflepuff girls. Thankfully, the girls didn’t inspect too much, but hurried along their way, casting glances back at the metal. “Too close.” “We’ll be alright,” Ginny soothed. “You forget that I grew up in the Burrow; I know how to sneak around.” He smirked and gave her hand a squeeze. If there was anyone he trusted to be with him on this mission, it was Ginny. She knew how to watch both their backs and keep a cool head. The stairs were crowded but didn’t move on them as they crept upward, pressed to the sides of the staircase. Finally, they made it to the second floor. “The bathroom is up this way,” Ginny said, tugging Harry down the hall. He knew where it was but could feel the way Ginny was beginning to tremble. Her hand had grown damp and icy in his. “Yeah.” Nobody was congregated near the doorway and the entire corridor had a deserted feel to it. “Nice to see that Myrtle’s kept her loo just how she likes it,” said Ginny. “Bit of luck for us,” agreed Harry. He gave one last look around before pushing the door open. Once inside, he tugged the Cloak away and smirked as Ginny’s hair raised with the static it made. “Oh, shut it, you,” she said, bumping her hip against his. “I knew I should have worn it up.” He watched in fascination as she reached behind her and began plaiting the long strands, her fingers flying. “Ready for this?” he asked. Ginny’s face was pale, and her freckles stood out like dark splashes of ink on her skin. “No, but…” “Who’s there?” They both turned as Myrtle emerged from her stall, filmy and indignant. She glared at them as they stared back at her. Myrtle’s expression was sour--rightfully so, Harry decided, since she lived in a toilet. She moved toward Ginny, scowling. And then, recognition as she saw Harry. “Oh, it’s you!” She became giddy, if a ghost can do so. “Hello Myrtle,” said Harry. “Sorry to intrude. We’re just passing through.” The dark expression returned to Myrtle’s face. “Of course, you are. Nobody ever comes to visit me! I stay all day in here alone!” Harry felt Ginny bristle next to him. “Perhaps if you were nicer to people--” “What do you know, girl?!” Myrtle turned to look at Harry. “Who is this girl, Harry? Why is she with you, and where are you going?” Talking with Myrtle was wasting time, but they also needed to avoid setting her off, so she didn’t raise the alarm that they were here. “Sorry, Myrtle. We’ll only be gone a few minutes and then we’ll come back to visit with you,” he lied. She seemed pacified. “I’ve missed you, Harry Potter,” she said. “You haven’t visited me in years.” Ginny pinched his side and Harry flinched but nodded to the ghost. “I know. I’m sorry. Sometimes life gets busy.” Myrtle sniffed and began picking at a spot on her face. “Don’t talk to me about life! I’m dead!!” she wailed. Harry held his hands out. “I’m sorry. I promise that we’ll talk more when we get back. And I’ll tell you...a story,” he said. Myrtle, still picking at a spot on her hazy face, looked at him in what he assumed was supposed to be a coy way. “Really?” “Er...yeah,” he said and nodded emphatically. “Right, Ginny?” “Sure, Myrtle,” soothed Ginny. “A good story. Why don’t you go and get ready? We shouldn’t be long. And don’t tell anyone we are here; it’s a surprise.” Myrtle didn’t look convinced until Harry nodded. Then, she turned and went into her toilet with a splash. Harry and Ginny exchanged a quick look. “Completely barmy, that one,” Ginny muttered. “Right.” Harry moved toward the sinks, touching each of the faucets and feeling for the right one. He didn’t remember which it was, exactly. His finger traced along, searching for the snake scratched into the surface. When he finally found it, he froze and looked over his shoulder at Ginny. “This is it.” Ginny’s tongue darted out and wet her dry lips. “Do it,” she said. Harry stared down at the faucet and tried to remember what to say. “Open,” he commanded. “English,” Ginny prompted. Harry growled low in his throat and twisted his head from side to side, releasing the tension. He focused on the little snake etched into the metal and tried again. “Open.” A grating sound echoed in the bathroom and the sink began to pull back, revealing a narrow pipe. Harry blinked at it. “Looked much bigger last time.” “We were both smaller,” Ginny pointed out. She peered around his shoulder and sighed. “Help me in?” “I’m going first,” Harry said. “If I can’t fit down, then our whole plan is--” “Then I’ll go,” Ginny said. “I can fit for sure.” He nodded, even though it made his blood run cold thinking of her going into the Chamber alone. He barely fit, and his shoulders rubbed on either side of the pipe, but Harry was able to slide down. He heard Ginny enter the pipe behind him and the whoosh of her robes along the sides of the slide. Down and down they slid into the cold, murky depths of the Chamber. Finally, Harry crashed down with a crunch. “Urgh,” he mumbled as he pressed himself up to stand in the low pipe. Everywhere he stepped was the crunch and crack of rat bones, years and years old. The Basilisk had been dead for more than three years, but the bones of its dinners still lay scattered in the tunnels. Ginny came down with an “oof!” and grumbled swear words as she dusted herself off. It was dark and damp. Harry lit his wand and tried to force away the panic from his mind. His memories were clearer now that the charm had been broken, but he couldn’t help but still feel that the entire Chamber incident was shrouded in shadow in his mind. Ginny’s hand found his after fumbling and he gave it a squeeze. “Let’s go,” he said, motioning toward the pipe ahead of them. “I don’t remember much about this,” admitted Ginny as they began to move forward. Each time her shoe would crunch on a bone or skeleton, she would cringe. “Doesn’t surprise me,” said Harry. “He was controlling you by then.” Ginny made a sound like an angry cat. “I remember more about coming out. Fawkes brought us, right?” “Yeah.” Little flashes of that time were coming back to Harry as they moved down the tunnels. They made several wrong turns and doubled back, until they came to stand in front of a large pile of rubble. “The tunnel collapsed in here,” Harry explained. “I had to crawl through, but I was able to levitate some big boulders out of the way.” He held his hand out for Ginny to use as balance as she picked her way through the uneven area. “The entrance was just up…” Harry stopped, his eyes resting on a solid wall with serpents carved on it. Harry let go of Ginny’s hand and wiped his sweaty palms on his robes. “Open,” he hissed. This time, he didn’t have to wait for Ginny to tell him if he was speaking in Parseltongue. The serpents before him parted and the wall opened. “I’m as nervous now as I was then.” “The basilisk is dead,” Ginny said. To Harry, her words were as shaky as he felt. A wave of stench overcame Harry and he gagged as his stomach turned. “Merlin,” Ginny groaned. She pressed her hand over her nose. “It’s just as bad breathing through your mouth! I can taste it!” Harry cast a bubblehead charm for each of them, but the smell still lingered. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get this over with.” His longing to be out of here was strong enough to overpower the bad memories. Ginny nodded and Harry stared ahead. He could see the great snake, draped dead over the stone floor ahead of them. As they moved forward, the greenish glow of the Chamber enveloped them, returning Harry to a different time. “Disgusting,” Ginny said at the sight of the serpent’s corpse. Her voice quivered and it sounded as if she were underwater; Harry’d momentarily forgotten about the bubble that encased both of their heads. “That’s where you were laying.” Harry pointed to a place where there was a great black stain spread on the floor. “I stabbed the diary and you...you woke up.” “I remember feeling so confused looking up at you,” said Ginny. “And then…” She shook her head and her cheeks flushed. “Only shame. I remembered what I’d done.” “What he did to you,” Harry said. Ginny’s eyes were red, but she wasn’t crying. They shone in the low light of the cavern. “Merlin, Harry. The things I wrote in that diary… It’s a good thing you destroyed it. I was...I was a fourteen-year-old girl, in the throes of a deep crush.” Her lips pressed into a thin line and her eyes wouldn't quite meet his. “I didn’t think you’d ever notice me and I...I had this whole fantasy life planned out for the two of us. One day, you’d notice that I was a girl--” “I always knew you were a girl, Ginny.” “Well, then you’d notice that I actually had breasts!” she said, her lips tilting into a smirk. “And you’d want to kiss me and touch me…” “If we weren’t in the most disgusting place I can imagine right now, Ginny Weasley,” Harry said, “I’d do more than kiss you.” A different sort of fire burned in her eyes, but she blinked it away and turned to look at the great ink stain spread on the floor. “It’s good that those thoughts were destroyed. No teenage girl needs things like to survive and haunt her.” “Let alone that a Dark Lord used those thoughts to manipulate you.” The way Ginny turned away from him made Harry wonder how much Ginny was remembering and if there was more that she hadn’t shared with him yet. “Let’s get the fang, destroy the cup, and get the hell out of here, Harry.” “Right.” Harry moved toward the head of the snake and eyed the dagger-like teeth still there. Decomposition hadn’t hurt them at all. Careful to mind the tips, Harry reached out and wrapped his hand around the largest fang. It came loose with a squelching sound that made Harry’s stomach flip uncomfortably. “Let’s go over here a bit,” Harry said, pointing to an area away from the dead snake. They walked over and Harry knelt down. He pulled the cup from his pocket and rested it on the stone floor in front of them. Ginny knelt beside him. “You do this one,” she said. “I did the locket.” “I did the diary,” Harry pointed out. “Then it’s your turn,” she said. “It’ll fight, just like the locket.” “Then don’t give it a chance. Stab it and let’s get out of here.” Harry nodded and stared down at the cup. It wasn’t reacting to the fang as much as the locket had to the sword, but Harry also wasn’t threatening it yet. He wiped his hands on his robes again and took hold of the fang, ignoring the rotting flesh near the top, and swung it down into the side of the cup. A blast threw them both backward, knocking the wind out of Harry. His arm pulsed strangely, but he could feel the fang still in his hand. “Alright?” he asked. The stench of the snake engulfed him again and he realized that the blast had released his bubble charm. Ginny breathed out a big sigh and groaned. “Yeah,” she said. “Did we destroy it?” “I don’t...I don’t know.” Harry lifted his head and looked for the cup. It wasn’t where it had been; the blow had skittered it away along the stone. He could see the dent in it as it lay innocently on its side. He stood up, still clutching the fang, and moved toward the cup, keeping a wary eye on it. He gave it a little kick, satisfied with the hollow ring it made, and then bent to pick it up. Pain like he’d never felt before erupted and Harry thought his skull had been cleaved in two. He collapsed to the floor and lay on his side. He pressed his hands to his head, discarding the fang. Fury coursed through his veins, burning like fire. “He knows,” Harry groaned. “He knows we’ve destroyed them.” Ginny was over him, her cold hands pressed to his forehead. “Did we?” she asked. “Is it done?” Harry took an unsteady breath in. “Get it for me?” She crawled away and was soon back, pressing the cup into his hand. Harry opened one eye and then slammed it closed at the sight of her hands covered in his blood. His scar must have broken open. He ran his hands over the surface of the cup. “Can you see a crack?” It sounded like Ginny was crying; she sniffled, and he felt a motion as if she’d swiped at her face. “No, I can’t...I can’t see anything. Just the dent.” Harry tried to concentrate, tried to clear his mind enough to be able to feel for the horcrux. “It’s still there,” he said as a shiver ran through him. Ginny swore and the cup disappeared from his hands. She moved away from him crawling on her knees. He opened one eye and watched her raise the fang above her head. As it came down, Harry hissed, “open”. Another blast rocked the cavern and a scream of agony rang in the air. It seemed to hang there for a moment before dying away. Harry stared up at the tall ceiling and tried to control his breathing. “Thought you said it was my turn.” Ginny snorted and the broken cup came skittering along the stone before resting next to Harry’s shoulder. He picked it up and eyed the torn metal. “If you’d gotten the job done the first time, I wouldn’t have to do it for you.” Harry laughed and relaxed into the cold floor beneath him. Ginny lay down with her head on his chest. Her mirth disappeared when she caught a glimpse of his face and she lifted the edge of her robes to mop up the blood that was streaming down his nose. He could see it now, spattered onto his glasses, and feel the tickle of it along his eyebrow. “You look a fright, Harry,” she muttered. “I’m sure I do,” he agreed. “What do we do now?” Harry thought about that, thought about the anger that Voldemort had let slip through their connection and the momentary glimpse of a decision that he’d had. “He’s coming here.” |
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