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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: 50412; Chapter Total: 1820 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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Chapter 5 Ginny slept until dinner. Harry would peek into the entryway every so often, to make sure, before he went about his work. He cleaned out a room for her across the hall from his own, levitated her trunk inside, and even debated putting her things away, but decided that it was too presumptuous of him. There was always a chance that Ginny would change her mind about staying here, anyway, and be gone before nightfall. Harry wasn't sure what to think of the entire turn of events. He was thrilled that Ginny was here, that she'd come to him in a time of need, but also confused about what it all meant. He couldn't help but still feel deeply for her-he didn't think that would ever go away-but was unsure what Ginny felt for him. She'd kissed him his last day at Hogwarts but had been distant and non-existent in his life since then. And yet, he could feel a pull when he was with her, an attraction that was more than physical affection for this girl-turned-woman. Unable to make up his mind about what it all meant, Harry vowed to live in the moment, to stop overthinking and just...be. If Ginny wanted to stay for a night, or forever, Harry would always have a place for her. If she wanted to be with him-really be with him-then they would work things out, but if she decided that she felt nothing more than friendship for him, Harry would stuff his heart back in his hollow, tin-man chest and pretend that it didn't exist. Harry made a variety of things for dinner unsure what Ginny might want. He knew she didn't eat much; he could see it in the way that her cheekbones stuck out and her hands were thin and frail-looking. It also helped burn off some nervous energy as he moved around the kitchen, making a few of the recipes that he actually knew how to make. "Smells good." He was sitting at the table, staring at the spread he'd made when Ginny walked down the stairs into the kitchen. She was rumpled from sleep, her hair askew and her clothing wrinkled, but there was a calmness to her face that he hadn't seen in a while. "Did you sleep well?" "Better than I have in a very long time." She chose to sit next to him, rather than across the table where Harry had set a plate. His chest ached in that familiar way, but Harry swallowed past it and handed her his plate before reaching across to take hers. "Thank you, Harry," she said. "Not for the food or the nap, but…" "It's okay." "I don't think you realize-" He turned to look at her, catching her gaze and holding it. "Ginny. I really do." Rather than belabor the point, Harry turned and began dishing up food for himself. "There's a letter for you," he said, motioning toward the owl perch in the corner. "Hedwig won't let me take it off, seems determined to put it into your hands. It's from your parents. I sent them a letter earlier." Ginny looked at the snowy owl and then back at Harry. "You wrote to my parents?" "Had to, didn't I?" he asked. "They'd know you weren't at Hogwarts soon enough. Best to let them know you were at least safe." Her forehead furrowed and her eyes pinched at the corners, her lips narrowing in a way that made Harry fear she was going to yell, but then it all softened. "I suppose you're right. Best get it over with. I can take that, Hedwig." The owl hopped from her perch to the table and side-stepped along the edge, coming right up to nuzzle Ginny's shoulder. Ginny chuckled and gave her a little attention before removing the scroll. "Well, at least it's not a howler," she mumbled. "Must mean that Dad wrote it." Harry didn't comment, but kept picking at his food, trying to seem neutral and disinterested, even as his mind raced and wondered which Weasley family member would tear his limbs off. Ginny read the letter, her eyes tracking each line, and didn't comment on anything until the end. "Well, they're not happy," she said as she folded it away and tucked it under the edge of her plate. "But...I'm of age and they're letting me make my own decisions." Harry hummed noncommittally and added more food to his plate. "Nothing to say about it?" Ginny picked up her fork and pushed her food around before taking a bite. "I offered you a place here, Ginny. There are no strings attached to that. I cleared a room for you, but if you change your mind, I won't be-" "I'm not going to Hogwarts," Ginny said firmly. "And I'm not going back to the Burrow." "Okay." "I...I want to stay here with you," she said. "Okay." A slow smile spread across Harry's face. It wasn't perfect, but...for now, it was better. Xxxxx "I like it." Ginny walked around the bedroom that Harry had planned for her to use, running her fingers over the chair, desk, and bed before turning to look at him. "There are others," Harry said. "I figured that if you needed something...I'm just across the hall." "That's good. And this will be fine." He wanted to ask how long she thought she might stay, but it seemed too much right now, so Harry backed out of the doorway and walked to his room. His hand rested on the doorknob and he breathed deep before going inside, but he left the door open. A few spells picked up the dirty laundry and sent it zooming toward the corner where the hamper sat, gathered his pile of newspaper clippings, and made the bed. He opened the window and let the warm evening air replace the stale air of the house. He did need to get better about taking care of the place, especially now that Ginny- "Harry?" He emerged to find her standing in the hallway, changed out of her uniform and into the comfortable shorts and t-shirts he was used to seeing her in at the Burrow. "I wasn't sure where you'd gone. You probably think I sound so needy, I-" "Not at all." Harry stood across from her, his hands stuffed into his pockets and Ginny leaned against the wall next to her door. "I don't want to be alone right now." "It's fine. Not like I was doing anything important right now. Or...ever." He smirked and Ginny smiled back at him. He mirrored her position, leaning against the wall opposite her and then sank down until he was sitting on the floor, his knees pulled up in front of him and his elbows resting there. Ginny did the same. Her feet, clad in a tattered pair of trainers, rested next to his. If Harry shifted his foot a little, their ankles would touch. "Yeah. Ron told me about that." Harry rested his head back against the wall and looked up at the dark ceiling. The only light in the hallway came from his open window as the sun set, making everything glow half-gold. "What happened with the Ministry, Harry?" Harry thought about that. "The same thing that happened with you and Hogwarts. It wasn't...right anymore." Ginny was the one who moved, and Harry felt the warm brush of her skin along the side of his ankle. They sat like that for a long time before Ginny removed her shoes and socks, sliding both of her bare feet along his. It seemed like such a huge thing when they hadn't touched at all since May. "Will we ever figure out what's wrong with us, Harry?" "I don't think it's us. I mean...it is, but...it's more, too." He told her his explanation of the Cheering Charm idea to Ron and she thought about it for a while before nodding. "I see where you were going, but...this is different." "I know it is," Harry said, "but it was the only way I could think to explain it to him without making him feel the...weight of all this. He doesn't see it, doesn't understand. No one does." "Do you think Sirius will mind that I'm here?" Harry's eyebrows rose. He hadn't even considered his godfather's point of view about Ginny staying at Grimmauld Place. "Sirius isn't...well, he isn't ever here. I mean, he drops in occasionally, but…" "That's got to be hard." Ginny's eyebrows pulled together, and he felt bare to her, open enough that she knew what was going on in his head. They hadn't talked like this since they would spend nights on the sofa at Hogwarts, sharing their nightmares and anxieties. "You wanted nothing more than to build a relationship with him and he…" "I can't blame him," Harry said. "I mean, he's not free, here in Britain. Not really. No one at the Ministry will do a damned thing to help him." He shook his head, remembering all the strings that everyone he knew had tried to pull to get Sirius' name cleared, to no avail. "Plus, we don't really know each other, do we? I mean, a handful of conversations through the floo and some letters don't tell you…" Harry's words failed him, and he shrugged helplessly. He didn't want to get emotional about Sirius because he had no right to. Sirius had done what he could for Harry, had given him a place to live and some information about his parents, but Harry couldn't expect him to stop living his life-meager as it was-just because Harry was here in this house. What would he have Sirius do, stay locked up here forever? "Things aren't turning out the way I'd planned with my life," he admitted with a forced laugh. "I know. Mine either." "Lumos." The tip of Harry's wand glowed, giving strange, long shadows to the hallway and making Ginny look almost ghostly in its light. "I got a letter from the Harpies this summer," Ginny said. "Yeah?" She looked away from him and lifted one of her shoes into her lap, playing with the lace until she'd shredded the end of it. "They were going to scout me this year when I played." Harry jerked forward. This had been her dream; they'd talked about it on some of those late nights in the Common Room. "Do you-" "I can't, Harry," she whispered, real pain in her voice. "Not when everything is like this. Merlin, can you see me flying around up there, pretending to be happy when all the time I feel...shattered inside?" He felt hollow; she felt shattered. What a pair they made. Harry could hear the seconds hand on the clock in his room ticking away time. He started counting and then lost track. "What do we do now?" "I don't know." They looked at each other for a long time before Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. "We should get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow things will look...better." "They're looking better already, Harry," she said, her voice quiet and a little quivery. Harry wanted to respond that he thought so, too, but her flirting was throwing him for a loop. Did that mean that she liked him again? Or was it only his addled mind that was seeing things where they weren't? "Good night, Ginny." "Good night, Harry. Neither of them stood, but sat frozen together, their feet still touching, and watching each other. Eventually, and only because Harry saw Ginny yawn twice in a row, he forced himself to move. His bum was asleep and his back ached from the way he'd been sitting, but he wouldn't have changed a moment of sharing those hours with Ginny. "Night." He closed his door and leaned against it, wondering how he was going to sleep with Ginny just across the hall from him. xxxxx It was almost a week to the day that Ginny had arrived at Grimmauld Place and Harry had been summoned into Diagon Alley to meet Mr. Weasley for lunch. Harry'd kept himself locked away with Ginny as they tried to figure out their new living situation-awkward moments like sharing a bathroom, and sweet moments where they made food while bumping into each other in the kitchen. It was still off, and they were both struggling with nightmares often, but they'd grown so used to it through the years that everything seemed normal in that area. "Time to face this." Harry pep talk didn't instill much confidence, but he knew there was nothing for it. The Weasleys had been more patient than he'd ever imagined they could be and he needed to talk with them. Since Ginny wasn't answering their owls with more than a quick, one-line response that she was fine, it was down to Harry to run interference. As he passed Number 93 on the Alley, Harry swore he could feel Fred and George's eyes from the window, but they didn't emerge, didn't accost him, and didn't throw products at him. He wasn't sure how they would feel about him now, honestly, let alone anyone else in the family. The Leaky Cauldron wasn't busy, and nobody seemed to notice him as he walked in. Hannah Abbott, whom he'd gone to school with and recognized, gestured toward one of the tables near the far end where Mr. Weasley and Ron sat together, their heads low over the table as they spoke in whispers. Harry's hands shook as he continued forward, passing through the thin barrier of a privacy charm. His ears gave a little pop and he opened his mouth to adjust to it before taking a seat. "Hello, Harry." "Mr. Weasley. Ron." An awkwardness that Harry hadn't felt since he was first found sitting at the kitchen table in the Burrow on the morning the twins and Ron had rescued him from Privet Drive in his second year settled. Harry didn't like it; it felt formal and stiff, and...wrong. These were people he'd grown to love, grown to respect, and now they were looking at him with searching expressions, evaluating how well they knew him at all. "Hello." "Would you like to order-" "Mr. Weasley, I don't feel like eating." Mr. Weasley's smile was tight and controlled. He ordered a round of Butterbeer for all three of them and they chatted about Quidditch and how things were going at Ron's job before the drinks arrived, zooming into their bubble and landing on the table gently enough that the liquid didn't splash. Harry sipped at his and eyed Ron, wondering what was in his best friend's mind. The only communication from Ron had been Pigwidgeon arriving the day after Ginny had with a scribbled 'Are you BARMY?' written on parchment. Harry'd responded: 'We've had this conversation, Ron. You've already told me I'm crazy.' Now, he couldn't read the tightness around Ron's mouth or the way his eyebrows pressed down low over his eyes. "Harry, I don't mean to make you nervous," said Mr. Weasley. "I just want...answers, I guess." "I wish I had them for you, Mr. Weasley,'' Harry said. "Why...why did Ginny leave? Why did she not go back to Hogwarts?" Harry thought about how much he was comfortable revealing of the conversations he'd had with Ginny. They hadn't talked much about what might happen in the future, or about what they were going to do beyond a few hours. There was so much unsaid between them yet. "You know that things are...different with Ginny and me. We feel…" He shook his head, trying to gather the right words. "She's told me that she feels like something is wrong with our world, something that nobody else feels-" "Nobody but me," Harry corrected. "Right. You feel it, too." Mr. Weasley's fingers pressed together, almost white at the tips, as he tented them on the table in front of him. "And even though she can't articulate what she means, it changes how she feels about everything." "It's why she couldn't go back to Hogwarts this year. It's why...why I walked away from the Aurors, sir. And I know that it sounds strange that we can't talk about it, but it almost feels as if...as if the words are...stolen from my mind whenever I try to explain." Mr. Weasley nodded slowly, his eyes searching Harry's. "I don't know where we go from here, Harry." "Me either, Mr. Weasley," Harry said, being honest. "I only know that Ginny needed a safe place where she didn't feel pressured to...to be like everyone else, where she could be sad if she needed, or angry, or…" He shook his head. "She could do that at the Burrow-" "Really?" He didn't want to challenge the man he'd looked up to for so long, but if Ginny didn't feel protected there before, how could she now? Mr. Weasley removed his glasses and put them on the table before him. "Harry, I don't want you thinking that we don't love-" "I know you do, Mr. Weasley. I do. And Ginny knows you love her, as well. She doesn't think you understand. And, how could you? She also doesn't want to be a burden." That was Harry's guess, anyway. It's why he'd accepted Sirius' invitation to live in Grimmauld Place and not the Weasley's to move into the Burrow after Hogwarts. "Is this about the nightmares?" Ron asked. Harry glanced at him, but Mr. Weasley's next words didn't let him answer. "Harry, I respect you, and I respect that you feel you can protect my daughter. But you have to understand how Molly and I feel about this whole situation. Our seventeen-year-old daughter ran away from where she was supposed to be and is living with an eighteen-year-old boy. That, in itself, is-" "I hope you know, Mr. Weasley, that I would never do anything to...compromise Ginny in any way. I... Well, I just wouldn't." "I know that, Harry, I do." "Ginny is of age, and she's capable of making her own decisions." "I know that, as well, Harry." They stared at each other for a long minute. "What do you feel for my daughter, Harry?" Harry averted his eyes and thought about it. He'd known how he felt for a long time now. "I love her, sir. But that doesn't mean that I-" "I understand." "And I don't know that Ginny feels the same way-" "You're daft if you can't see it," said Ron. Harry'd almost forgotten he was there; he'd been so focused on trying to convince Mr. Weasley of his good intentions. "She hasn't said-" "She's been in love with you most of her life," Ron said. "But she's...being difficult about it. Ginny always has to do things the hard way." "Very true," said Mr. Weasley. Harry's face flamed and he pushed that little bit of the conversation to the back of his mind to deal with later. "It's still not the point of this," Harry said. "She didn't come to me because she's…" He couldn't even say the words. "She came because we share this same feeling, this same anxiety, if you call it that. She came because she knew I wouldn't question her or demand that she explain it. She doesn't have to because I know." "And you think this...relationship-if it's friendship or more-is healthy?" Harry tried not to get annoyed, but he was quickly losing patience. He'd been honest and they knew him, for Merlin's sake! A kernel of doubt began to bloom inside him-had they only pretended to like him all these years? Was his character now in doubt because their daughter needed his help? "Yes. We support each other. When Ginny feels safe, that I can focus on trying to figure out what this is. When she's there we can talk about the nightmares, talk about the memories that don't make sense, and try to find a place where we can be…" "Happy?" "Maybe. I don't know right now. The feeling that I thought was happiness is...all mixed up in my head right now. It feels false, like a planted thought." Mr. Weasley scowled. "You told Ron that you thought the Ministry might-" "I don't know," Harry interrupted. "I only know what I feel, Mr. Weasley, and it doesn't feel right." "How do we proceed, Harry?" He thought about it, but it seemed so far away, some mythical ending where he and Ginny would be okay again, and they wouldn't have to pretend when some days the anxiety overwhelmed them to the point that they couldn't function. "We...we go one day at a time, sir," he said. "We let Ginny stay where she feels safe and protected. And we let her work through what this is." "What about you, mate?" Ron said. "We're worried about you, too, if you couldn't tell." "I'm fine." Ron's eyes narrowed. "Doubtful." "She's sleeping, sir," Harry said to Mr. Weasley. "She and I... We don't sleep much, but she's sleeping right now." Mr. Weasley blew out a deep breath and nudged his glasses around the table top. "That is something to be thankful for." "It helps to clear the mind. That's not to say there aren't nightmares, but not sleeping makes them worse, usually. And there comes a time when the Dreamless Sleep potion stops working. We're both at that point. But she's been sleeping at least eight hours a day-in spurts. That's...that's huge for us." "What about you?" Ron asked. Harry took a nervous sip of his drink. "Not as much." "Harry." Harry sighed at his friend's warning tone. "About four, but...but I've been worried about her. I'll settle into a better pattern soon. And with her there, we can talk about what this all means. Maybe we can work through it and find what this is." Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and put his glasses back on. "Harry, we want both of you healthy and happy-real happiness. For now, let's leave things as they are. But we would appreciate it if you could help...persuade Ginny that she should-" "I won't tell her to leave," Harry said. "And I won't encourage her to leave, either. She's where she is for a reason, Mr. Weasley." "I was going to say, persuade Ginny to communicate with us, then we wouldn't have to make assumptions about things." "I can try, but I won't do anything to undermine our friendship, sir." Mr. Weasley stood after looking at his watch. "I need to get back to the Ministry." His brow furrowed and Harry noticed that he seemed to look much older than Harry imagined he was. "This is a very fine line you're both walking, Harry-" "I'll walk it for her, sir." A hesitant hand was placed on Harry's shoulder and then Mr. Weasley was gone, stepping outside the privacy charm, and leaving the Leaky Cauldron completely. Harry watched him go and then turned to glance at Ron. "How mad is everyone?" Ron snorted and shook his head. "You've got stones, Harry, playing house with a girl who has six older brothers." "We're not-" "I know." Ron held up his hands. "I'm just joking, but...but there is a bit of truth behind it, I guess." Harry scowled. "I would hope that by now you'd know me well enough to know that I'm not messing Ginny around. And I'm not taking this lightly. Ginny and I… Of course, I want it to work out between us, to be…" He shook his head, unable to even fathom what they might be one day. "But if it doesn't, if she doesn't feel that way for me, it doesn't change what I'm willing to do for her, Ron." Ron nodded and drained the rest of his drink. "This thing you and Ginny feel, the fear…. It's real, isn't it?" "Very." Ron swore and shook his head. "I thought it was just…." "Overactive imagination?" Harry asked. "Not hardly. There's something there, Ron. I can't tell you what it is yet, but...but it's real, and it's...big." "Okay." Ron breathed out the word as the reality of it settled on him. Harry suspected that he wanted to believe them, but that he'd also wanted to believe it was in their heads, that there wasn't some great...corrupt force out there in the world. "What...what do we do about it? Because if you think I'm going to let you and Ginny-" "Nothing, right now," Harry said. "We don't know what we're facing. We just know that it's there, that Ginny and I can feel it. For now, you wait until we figure out-" "Harry-" "Ron. Ginny and I need to talk, we need to get our minds wrapped around this and decide...decide what it is first. And then we'll talk to you about it. I've never left you out of anything-" "You didn't tell me how you felt about my sister." "-anything that was vitally important," Harry finished. "How I feel about Ginny...you don't think that's private?" "Have you at least told her?" Harry shifted in his seat. "She knows or did know. I told her back in sixth year." Ron slapped his hand on the table and Harry was glad there was a privacy charm up. The other few patrons of the pub didn't even notice. "Blimey, Harry! That's two years ago!" "You don't have to count it out for me," Harry grumbled. His friend gave him a look of pity and Harry almost growled in response. "Look, I love you both, and I think you would be great together, but Ginny's a pain in the arse. She's always got to push things. She's like Charlie. He always had to test every boundary before he figured the right one. And sometimes I think Ginny's even worse, since she's the baby of the family." "I know she's stubborn. Trust me." "It's more than stubborn," Ron said. "She'll push every one of your buttons to see what you'll do, how you'll react. But…" he shook his head, "when she's proved that you won't scarper, she'll love you forever." "I'm not going anywhere, Ron." "Good." |
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