Title: Enchanting
Author: cla-U-dia
Disclaimer: Most of the story belongs to legendary J.K Rowling, except for some things =D
Notes: I just wanted to say that I really loved Ginny's personality in Order of the Phoenix, GO GINNY!!! YOU ROCK!! Oh, and this is my first H/G story, so come one people and give it a try =D
***
It was a cold and rainy morning. Weeks had passed by since the brittle rays of the sun had succeeded to penetrate through the grey clouds in the sky. The summer veil that had lingered on till the first weeks of October had waved farewell for the last time this year, and only shadows of the once golden morning were left.
Over the densest dark green spruces, and withering autumn leaf-trees, in the east country side of England, flew a flock of croaking snow-white seagulls, fleeing, from the whipping raindrops that poured down the dull sky. A raising castle was visible on a lonely cliff, as the hoary birds reached the far side of the rural area. The waves of the water below crashed brutally against the rocks of the green crag. And flying upwards the solid stonewalls the croaking of the seagulls became more distant till they disappeared in the blurry sight of the torrential raindrops, perhaps succeeding to escape from the coldness and darkness that had fallen months ago.
Hogwarts castle stood there, on the cliff, with a defiant position against the rude storm, the tormenting tempest, viewing the eternal line of spruces on its east side. And waiting for the sun, for the promise of a bright future.
In one of the towers of this castle, in the Gryffindor tower to be specific, in the sixth year boys' dormitory laid Harry Potter in his bed and stirring uncomfortably in his sleep, his maroon beddings on the floor. The nape of his neck to his forehead with the throbbing scar was drenched in sweat. Cries, laughs echoed in his dream, mumbling words and whispers. Shadows surrounded him, but he couldn't see. A veil, velvet black and fluttering prevented him from coming nearer, barred him from seeing. He tried to scream but no words came from his open mouth. And in his frustration he took a tight grip of the tattered curtain, feeling its silky texture beneath his fingers, and ready to enter. Then he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Slowly turning around he saw the face of him, stare back at him. The pair of hazel eyes smiling. That was the moment when he got his voice back. And as silently as a feeble summer breeze coming rolling over hills he whispered; "Sirius".
Harry suddenly snatched his vivid green eyes open, gasping as he gazed on the dark brown ceiling above him. He was not conscious of Neville's snoring on the bed beside him, until he heard a loud grunt and something falling hard on the floor. With his heart still beating he rose up, his pyjamas soaked of sweat, clinging to his body. Trembling he moved away the heavy red curtain around his four-poster bed, and saw Neville's book ("Magical Herbs and How to Discover Them" by Ruby Calatas) on the floor, and a hand sticking out behind the drape of Neville's bed. His eyes moved to the three other beds in the dormitory. Everyone, who meant Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville, were still sleeping. Their heavy breathing and Neville's coughing and snoring trembled in the silent room, making Harry perfectly clear that it was only he who was fully awake this Saturday morning.
He sighed, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table while climbing out the bed.
With lumped shoulders Harry walked to the bathroom on the far side or the room, trying not to think of the dream, the same dream he's had since he came back to Hogwarts. What would the Daily Prophet write today, he found himself asking as he faced his reflection on the bathroom mirror, what would they write about Lord Voldermort's growing regime? No answers. His green eyes, his mother's eyes, stared back at him sadly. For a brief moment a golden ray of fury passed by the emerald gaze, a rage to the incapability of being able to do something, to be stuck here and not being able to fight together with the Order of the Phoenix, to fight for his parents' death, for Sirius's.... He inhaled deeply shaking away those thoughts that somehow made him think back to the battered veil that haunted in the back of his mind.
A sudden chill made him swiftly aware of his soaking pyjamas. Without glancing at his reflection on the blank mirror in front of him he took off his brown striped pyjamas shirt. A lean boy, with the visible traces of already entered manhood, showed the blank surface of the tall bathroom mirror.
The dark hair pointing at every direction seemed even more tussled than usual. Unconsciously he tried to flatten it, but failed.
His eyes traced from his hair and back to his face and seeing his tired features reflect upon the blank mirror he splashed some water to his face and hair, his hands afterwards gripping on the edges of the white basin. A flailing veil crept slowly into his mind, as a beaming face looked down at him, the fluttering shroud whirling behind. Perhaps he could try to finish the two parchment long Transfiguration essay they had for Monday, he thought, closing his eyes tightly while slowly breathing in, trying to forget.
He quickly walked out the bathroom. While opening his trunk by the end of his bed and grasping a clean shirt from the bottom of the stem, he became suddenly aware of the heavy rain outside. He sighed. Another soaking wet quidditch practise, he thought devastated, before leaving the dormitory, hearing, before closing the door, Seamus mumble in his dream: "Not another cookie Mummy! You should know right about now that my uncle Ron is not an idiot of a lizard!"
*
To his convenience the common room was empty. The fire from yesterday had long ago burned out. He lumped down on his favourite corner of one of the sofas nearest the fireplace, soon conscious of the quill, ink and parchment up stairs, lying untouched on the floor by the foot of his bed. That thought quickly entered his mind, but vanished as hastily again. He could easily do the homework tomorrow.
So instead Harry found himself with his chin buried in his hands, his elbows resting on the armchair, as he gazed deeply into the ashes in the fireplace. He was still not hungry. Not that he had been quite hungry since he'd begun school this term. His mood had taken away the pleasure tasty food usually gives. He found everything fairly meaningless, even quidditch, something he'd found previous years at Hogwarts school like his only consolation when everything else seemed hopeless.
Nowadays he felt empty at almost everything. There was no point. He could sometimes walk along the long corridors together with Ron and Hermione without hearing a single word they were saying, even when they were talking directly to him. And sometimes he forced himself to laugh at some of Ron's funny remarks about Professor Snape, Malfoy and his baaing cheeps, or Milicent Bulstrode's hideous nose, just to rub away the anxious and worrying expressions off their faces. But they were still concerned, and various times when they tried to talk to him about what really troubled him he ended up getting angry at them, demanding them to leave him alone, or he would just shrug and mumble that he was tired. Something he knew they didn't believe.
The truth was that nowadays, his mind seemed to drift away. His thoughts didn't longer concern the upcoming quidditch match against Slytherin, the amount of homework, or whether Snape was going to poison him during next lesson or give him a yet another "D" to release his fury of the fact that Harry had surprisingly enough succeeded to receive an "O" in Potions and was therefore able to read NEWT standard in Potions with Snape as the teacher. Something neither Harry nor Snape appreciated.
He found himself thinking over and over again, when everything would end. When he would be forced to meet Voldermort for the last time, the destiny he was meant to have that had been foretold sixteen years ago. If he would survive, or face death like his parents had, like Sirius had.
He let out a groan of frustration as his hands covered his eyes and pushed his hair away from his face, when he heard a voice calling him from the top of the whirling stairs to the girls' dormitories: "Harry?" Ginny Weasley descended the staircase, holding a parchment and a quill tightly in her arms. "Are you OK?"
Harry craned around swiftly in his seat, jumping slightly out of surprise. He saw her by the last step of the stairs, and managed to smile briefly: "Yeah," he mumbled, seeing the increasing frown on the white forehead a few feet away from him. "Just tired, had trouble sleeping only."
She peered at him, taking a step nearer at where he was sitting. "Are you sure?" she asked raising one eyebrow as she continued gazing at him demandingly. "Cause you've been saying this for so long that I'm finding it hard believing it anymore."
This was the first time Ginny had said the same thing that Ron and Hermione had been telling him for a while now, directly to him and him alone. Harry gazed back at her, suddenly annoyed of her sincerity, though he knew that she was right. Who did believe him?
"Well if you find it hard believing it, then don't," he snapped, looking away when he saw her tense where she stood.
"You know," she said after a moment of pure silence with a voice like she had come to realisation of something very important. "You don't have to be rude every time someone asks you how if you're OK. Maybe they just want to help-"
Harry turned his head to her, seeing the composure face still gazing at him. "Then, people shall stop worrying whether I'm OK or not. There's nothing troubling me, Ginny. I don't need any help. I'm fine, thank you."
"Well, that's the hook," she said coolly walking nonchalantly towards the opening of the Fat Lady. "You don't seem like you are."
Seeing the soon disappearing waist long red hair made the usual guilt in the pit of his stomach to lurch in protest.
"Wait, Ginny!" he shouted.
A face was first visible behind the corner of the wall, then the grey cloak with the wavy red hair hanging loosely down the shoulders. "I'm sorry," he muttered under his breath, loud enough for her to hear it, and with his eyes staring uncomfortable on the red and golden carpet on the floor.
There came no reply, making him believe that she'd turned around and left, leaving him stupidly looking down at the floor. But when he raised his eyes he saw that she was still there, looking at him, as if waiting for him to continue.
He sighed. "It's just that-" he looked at the ceiling, and then at her, whose face was calm and serene. He searched for the right words, but his tongue seemed to have been swallowed and stuck somewhere in the middle of his throat. "I-I-keep thinking all the time." The words came quickly, not giving him anytime to reflect. "I don't want to think anymore."
The words sounded stupid, even to him. But it was exactly what he felt, and he felt rather surprised that they'd come so naturally and that he'd said them in front of Ginny Weasley. At the same time he felt like a tremendous relief to actually have spoken them aloud, to say what he was longing for but never could achieve, and least of all in his dreams.
Ginny just looked at him and by the expression on her face, a mixture of realisation and relief, Harry knew that she'd understood what he meant. Crookhanks walked drawlingly from his sleeping corner towards Harry and purred softly, his tail curling itself around Harry's leg.
"I think that I can help you with that Harry," she said thereafter with a determined voice. Harry just looked at her, confused and slightly taken back. For a quick moment he thought that she was pulling his leg off, but from the grave expression on her face he knew that she being serious.
When Harry didn't answer, she added impatiently; "Follow me Harry." He still didn't move. She smiled at him. "I'll show you."
And turning around she walked out of the common room, having Harry soon following her and leaving Crookshanks slightly annoyed, not because he believed her to a hundred percent of what she'd just said, but because this would prevent the flickering battered veil slither into his mind yet again.
*
They went along the long and quiet corridor in the Gryffindor tower, greeting Headless Nick, who had been out for a morning stroll around the castle, and went down the staircase that would lead them to the marble staircase. They had to hide behind a steel armour when they saw Peeves fly with a vicious look on his face, with Filch close behind uttering filthy words about the poltergeist, and only when hearing Filch's roaring voice become like the noise of an annoying wasp as he limped along the corridor further and further away, did they dare to walk down the marble staircase.
Entering the Entrance Hall, Ginny turned left, and just when Harry though that she was leading them to the north tower she turned right, and walked upwards an old staircase that cracked dangerously by every step. Harry was now very curious of where they were actually heading to, but after having asked Ginny three times already he knew that there wasn't actually any meaning of asking her again, though she was determined to not say a word until they got there.
"The astronomy tower?" he said finally, when they climbed the last staircase, and reached a huge stone platform, the rain quickly soaking him wet as he stood there on the middle, gazing at Ginny with an expression of what-are-you-crazy? "You wanted to show me the astronomy tower?"
Ginny, who had been bright enough to stay on the threshold, entering the platform, now quickly ran to the stone wall on Harry's left that seemed to be a very tiny tower compared to the other ones in the castle. She turned to him, her quill and parchment hidden under her cloak. "It's the old astronomy tower, Harry!" she shouted, not knowing if he'd be heard through the rain that smattered the cold ground.
Harry looked around, yes there were some minor differences, like the tower, he came to realise. Ginny suddenly whispered something under breath. Harry didn't catch the whole sentence as he stepped nearer, but at least understood that it was a spell. Soon the brick stones moved away, like the brick wall when entering into Diagon Alley at the Leaking Cauldron, but with the difference that instead off showing an opening there was a door.
Harry could only gape, while Ginny entered, beaming brightly at him by the door in spite of her drenched hair and clothes.
"Will you come in, Harry-" she smiled." -or will you stand there in the rain?"
Still gaping (Harry knew that he must look foolish by now), he entered into a small circle formed room with a soft red carpet that came up to his ankles and a ceiling showing a bright and golden sun above. Harry looked at it and before he needed to ask why there was a sun shining, when it was a the worst hurricane ever outside, Ginny whispered; "It's an enchanted ceiling, like the one in the Great Hall."
Harry nodded, forcing his eyes away from the ceiling above, which somehow gave in an unexplainable peace and calmness inside him, to look around. There was nothing else to see, besides the carpet and the cushioned ebony white walls. And in all Harry's bewilderment he found himself asking why he, Ron and Hermione hadn't found this room having the Marauder's Map and all, but when thinking about it more he came to realise that the map had still secret passages and furtive rooms, which they hadn't discovered yet. And this was one of those.
"How?" was all that Harry could muster out, his gaze wandering back to the beautiful sky above, while water continued to trace along his face, feeling an unreasonable warmness in spite of his drenched clothes.
Ginny had removed her parchment and quill from under her soaked cloak, and had sat down against the cushioned wall, when she looked up at him, shrugging, neither she giving away a sign of uncomfortable with her damp clothes clinging to her body like a second skin. "Oh well, it was mum actually who kind of helped me."
"Mrs. Weasley!?" Harry asked intelligently, wondering how many surprises he would receive in one day. The fact of Mrs. Weasley telling Ginny about a secret room, which wasn't perhaps permitted to be used, was as reasonable as if Malfoy dancing the Hula-hula in the Great Hall during supper.
"No, Piggy," Ginny answered, rolling her eyes. "Of course my mum!" Harry still looked at her, still as surprised. Ginny saw his face and grimaced. "Well, okay she didn't tell me just so that I would run and seek for it. She thinks that I have more common sense than that," she beamed at this, "It was during one of her moments when she told me about where she used to go during nights to meet my father" (At this point Harry could see Ginny blush slightly, colouring her cheeks briefly pink) "and not being caught by the usher Apollyn Pringle-" (at this point she caught Harry grinning, and her cheeks flushed even more) "-Hey, they were NOT doing THAT!- Anyway, will you let me continue? Good, where was I? O yes, well she always told me about this room, and well I put two and two and made it to four, and well- that's my explanation."
Harry nodded, still standing up, his eyes tracing back to the ceiling yet again. Somehow it caught his whole concentration, and made his mind blank and filled with fluffy things like white clouds, buzzing butterflies, colourful flowers and the smell of roses.
"This is why I wanted you to come, Harry," Ginny whispered, pointing at the ceiling. "My mum always told me that it was something special about it, making you forget everything, making you somehow happy inside." She smiled at Harry, and tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear before saying; "Do you understand what I mean Harry?"
He nodded, and before he knew it he beamed and knew that it came from the deep of his heart, feeling for the first time that there was still hope in the world, as he lay down with his arms under his head, and stared up at the enchanted ceiling with the radiating sun above.
"I call it Alegria Echisero," she said smiling, as if not wanting to disturb him. "'Enchanting Beauty' I come here every morning, well when I'm not too lazy of course!"
But Harry didn't hear her any more. And mumbling the soothing name, he felt himself lost in the eternal sky above.
*
Everything, every nightmare, every dread seemed to swim in a white fog in his head. He could no longer reach out with his fingers and touch them. And every time he felt like was about to feel their surface and fall back to reality, he could almost swear that he heard a warbling nightingale sing in his ears. All he could see was the beauty above him, all he could feel was the happiness that lightened up the whole room, even in the darkest corners of his soul.
After a while he became aware of a scratching sound against paper, and with his emerald eyes still on the merry sun, he asked drawlingly; "What's that noise?"
Ginny mumbled something, and then looked up from her paper, watching with surprise at Harry as if she'd forgotten he'd been there. "Oh, that's nothing really," she looked down again, and continued with the scratching against the surface of the paper.
Harry sat up, forcing his gaze to look away from the ceiling and to Ginny, who was frenetically scribbling down something on the parchment. "Homework?" he asked, Ginny suddenly reminding him of Hermione, with her light brown eyes filled with concentration and a slight trace of insanity, as she continued writing.
Ginny looked up yet again, smiling. "Don't be ridiculous. I don't think that anyone, even Hermione, can do such things here."
"So what is it?" he asked, glancing occasionally at the blue ceiling.
Ginny sighed. "Well- can you keep a secret?" she said, staring at Harry slightly suspiciously.
"You know mine," he answered smiling, remembering what he told her in the common room an hour or so ago, even though it felt like at least two hundred years ago. Ginny raised her eyebrow. "Well, all right, not technically."
She sighed yet again. "OK- I write," she peered at him, waiting him to laugh or something. "So?"
"So what?" Harry said.
"Aren't you going to laugh, say something funny?" she said, still staring at him rather guardedly, still not trusting Harry's calm face. "Not even be sarcastic?"
Harry looked at her, slightly bemused." Am I suppose to?"
Ginny shrugged, the corner of her lips curling. "Suppose not. I don't know- isn't it a little dorky thing to write? I mean Fred and George think-"
Harry raised his eyebrows, his smile increasing. "Ginny, we're talking about Fred and George here. The ones who the renewed the meaning of buying Stinkbombs?"
Ginny snickered, knowing that he'd made a perfect point. "Yeah, guess you're right."
Seeing Ginny dive in her parchment yet again, made Harry slightly curious of what she was actually writing. And he felt that it would be rather polite if he asked rather than not caring at all and return to the ceiling that somehow chanted his name over and over again. "So, what're you writing? Is it a diary?" Harry found himself asking, and suddenly remembering his second year and Tom Riddle. Somehow, thinking about that name felt like someone had just thrown him a huge rock onto his chest. One memory, that had been all foggy and unclear recently suddenly came back to life.
Ginny seemed to be thinking in the same tracks, though he saw her involuntarily shiver in the luminous sunlight. "No. No, more diaries for me," she managed to smile, looking at Harry. "It's more like a novel."
"A novel?" Harry wondered, rather impressed. "Cool! So, can one read an excerpt from it?"
Ginny laughed at this, looking as if what Harry recently had said was something extremely hilarious. "Read it? No! It's personal!" she managed to calm herself down, but still grinned.
"No, but seriously," Harry said, now feeling the sensation of looking up at the ceiling more than ever. The name Tom Riddle was still echoing in his head.
"Yes, serious Harry!" Ginny said, then her face became wondering. "Well, let's say like this, if I ever write a story about you, then you can read it, but if I never do, then you can't read any of my works."
"A story about me?" Harry said, his huge smile slowly fading. "Wow, then you'll have something to write about. And be sure to include all the juicy parts, specially when my parents died, how I got my scar when I was a baby, and then you can write about my first year here at Hogwarts, till my seventh year, even though I'm not sure that I'll survive till my seventh year." He looked away. "The titles should perhaps be ´Harry Potter and the Return of You-Know-Who`, hm and perhaps `Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Harry Potter and his lost Godfather', and maybe also 'Harry Potter and the Death of Cedric Diggory', and well what should we name my fifth year? Perhaps `Harry Potter and His Lost Faith In Everything Good.'"
He paused, breathing heavily. He didn't want to jump up like that on Ginny, and she looked rather crestfallen at the moment. But he hadn't been able to stop himself. And now it felt like he was holding twenty huge rocks with his bare two hands. The ceiling had suddenly stopped calling for him.
"I'm so sorry for saying such stupid thing," she whispered hoarsely, tugging on a red lock. "I never thought like that, I mean- I'm really sorry Harry"
Harry shrugged, his eyes never leaving the supple rug, which seemed to take his whole concentration.
"Perhaps, we should go back?" Ginny suggested mumbling, fiddling with the watch on her wrist. "The others must already be awake."
Harry nodded, thinking also that it would be best to do so. But neither one of them moved.
"Harry-" Ginny began again.
Harry sighed, managing to smile feebly. "It's all right Ginny, It was I who was a jerk, not you." His eyes drifted up to the ceiling, and felt himself calm down all of a sudden.
There was a moment of silence.
"Harry-" Ginny said again hesitantly.
"I said it's OK, Ginny," he answered somewhat impatiently, turning to her.
"No, it's not about that," she said, fiddling her watch a little more, as if checking whether she should clasp it a little more tighter around her wrist or not. "I was just wondering if you could-"
He watched the guilty expression on her soft features as her eyes darted on the second hand of her watch.
"- Not tell Ron and Hermione?" he asked, understanding the look on her face. "Don't worry, I won't"
Ginny smiled vaguely. "Perhaps I was selfish, and I am still, but from the first moment I opened the door I knew that I didn't want to tell anyone about it. I don't really know why," she shrugged, looking him in the eyes" Ron and Hermione aren't in need of it." She looked up at the ceiling, and then looked back at him. "But when I met you this morning I just knew that my suspicions about you since my fifth year were right. You have every right to know about it, Harry." She stood up and sighed while rolling up her parchment and taking a grip of her quill "This place is so-"
"Special?" Harry said, slightly taken back by her previous words, and also standing up while glancing at the enchanted sky.
Ginny nodded. "Yeah, too special," she answered, her gaze wandering up to the ceiling." I just don't think it's ready to be explored by others." She turned around and opened the door. Outside poured the rain down with the same strength as before, making Harry feel the contrast between warm and cold, to see the distinction between happiness and sorrow.
Harry suddenly shuddered, feeling some of the cascading raindrops kiss his face. Remotely he looked away from the ceiling that shone even more brightly than before, and turned around. The door sealed and they were welcomed by the rain and the grey clouds on the sky. They were back to reality. But this time Harry could almost discern the bright sun behind the heavy clouds, waiting for its return. He smiled.
They walked quietly back to the Great Hall, Harry redeeming what he'd just experienced, until Ginny said; "You know what Harry?" They passed the picture of a troll scratching his head absently.
Harry looked at her, smiling. "No, what?"
Ginny glanced at him, smiling back. "You are really a nice friend, you know that?" Harry looked at her curiously. "I mean, I don't know you as much as I perhaps should, though you've been Ron's friend, like FOREVER!" She grinned. "But with everything that has happened during all these years, I can actually tell you that I consider you as one of my closest friends Harry."
Harry beamed back, shaking his head slightly. "Eh, thanks I guess," he said hesitantly, glancing at her. "You know, you may be Ron's little sister, but you're really cool too."
Ginny snickered. "Yeah, typical man thing to say."
"What?" Harry said, wondering why she was grinning like mad.
She raised her eyebrows, still laughing. "'Eh, thanks I guess. And you know what I think you're really cool too,'" she said, imitating Harry's voice. "Here, have I poured my soul (she made a violent gesture with her arms) for you, and everything you can come up with is, `You're cool too´?" she snickered even more. "But don't worry Harry. It's really cool being consider as cool."
They continued chatting down to the Great Hall, Harry feeling more light- hearted than he'd done for a long time.
"I'm off to leave this," she said beamingly, when they reached the Entrance Hall as she pointed at her parchment and quill. "-and YOU shall go and have a decent breakfast and cram yourself with porridge, eggs, and bacon! One is beginning to think that you're planning to starve yourself to death!"
The Entrance Hall was already becoming rather crowdedly. Various students from Gryffindor walked down the marble staircase by now, one of them Colin Creevey who "Hi'd" them. Ginny mouthed a see you later, since there were already plenty of students parting them, but just as she was about to turn around and walk up the stairs, Harry shouted all of a sudden, "Ginny, when do you think we can return?"
Ginny, craned around. Her face was quite unreadable, as if she was unsure in what to answer. Harry watched the hesitation in her face, and began suddenly dreading of what her answer would be. But then she smiled, even though somewhat uncertain, but enough to make Harry understand there wasn't anything to worry about. "Tomorrow morning, at the same hour Harry!" she shouted back over the many heads, walking upwards the stairs till she disappeared from Harry's sight.
Harry's gaze wandered to the two wide open oak doors into the Great Hall, where voiced and laughs erupted like sounds of music to his ears. He smiled, while walking to the entrance of the Great Hall, and suddenly thinking of a certain enchanted ceiling on a tiny tower with a red carpet covering the floor and cushioned white walls.
When Harry entered the Great Hall he saw Ron and Hermione sitting by the end of the Gryffindor table, and beamingly he waved at them. He could see their chocked faces stare back at him from a distance, till they grinned back. Perhaps they smiled just because they saw Harry walk across the floor of the Great Hall to them, or perhaps because they thought they saw the old Harry walk back to their lives.
*****
So, how about reviewing =D !!!
A chapter 2 ???
Author: cla-U-dia
Disclaimer: Most of the story belongs to legendary J.K Rowling, except for some things =D
Notes: I just wanted to say that I really loved Ginny's personality in Order of the Phoenix, GO GINNY!!! YOU ROCK!! Oh, and this is my first H/G story, so come one people and give it a try =D
***
It was a cold and rainy morning. Weeks had passed by since the brittle rays of the sun had succeeded to penetrate through the grey clouds in the sky. The summer veil that had lingered on till the first weeks of October had waved farewell for the last time this year, and only shadows of the once golden morning were left.
Over the densest dark green spruces, and withering autumn leaf-trees, in the east country side of England, flew a flock of croaking snow-white seagulls, fleeing, from the whipping raindrops that poured down the dull sky. A raising castle was visible on a lonely cliff, as the hoary birds reached the far side of the rural area. The waves of the water below crashed brutally against the rocks of the green crag. And flying upwards the solid stonewalls the croaking of the seagulls became more distant till they disappeared in the blurry sight of the torrential raindrops, perhaps succeeding to escape from the coldness and darkness that had fallen months ago.
Hogwarts castle stood there, on the cliff, with a defiant position against the rude storm, the tormenting tempest, viewing the eternal line of spruces on its east side. And waiting for the sun, for the promise of a bright future.
In one of the towers of this castle, in the Gryffindor tower to be specific, in the sixth year boys' dormitory laid Harry Potter in his bed and stirring uncomfortably in his sleep, his maroon beddings on the floor. The nape of his neck to his forehead with the throbbing scar was drenched in sweat. Cries, laughs echoed in his dream, mumbling words and whispers. Shadows surrounded him, but he couldn't see. A veil, velvet black and fluttering prevented him from coming nearer, barred him from seeing. He tried to scream but no words came from his open mouth. And in his frustration he took a tight grip of the tattered curtain, feeling its silky texture beneath his fingers, and ready to enter. Then he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Slowly turning around he saw the face of him, stare back at him. The pair of hazel eyes smiling. That was the moment when he got his voice back. And as silently as a feeble summer breeze coming rolling over hills he whispered; "Sirius".
Harry suddenly snatched his vivid green eyes open, gasping as he gazed on the dark brown ceiling above him. He was not conscious of Neville's snoring on the bed beside him, until he heard a loud grunt and something falling hard on the floor. With his heart still beating he rose up, his pyjamas soaked of sweat, clinging to his body. Trembling he moved away the heavy red curtain around his four-poster bed, and saw Neville's book ("Magical Herbs and How to Discover Them" by Ruby Calatas) on the floor, and a hand sticking out behind the drape of Neville's bed. His eyes moved to the three other beds in the dormitory. Everyone, who meant Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville, were still sleeping. Their heavy breathing and Neville's coughing and snoring trembled in the silent room, making Harry perfectly clear that it was only he who was fully awake this Saturday morning.
He sighed, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table while climbing out the bed.
With lumped shoulders Harry walked to the bathroom on the far side or the room, trying not to think of the dream, the same dream he's had since he came back to Hogwarts. What would the Daily Prophet write today, he found himself asking as he faced his reflection on the bathroom mirror, what would they write about Lord Voldermort's growing regime? No answers. His green eyes, his mother's eyes, stared back at him sadly. For a brief moment a golden ray of fury passed by the emerald gaze, a rage to the incapability of being able to do something, to be stuck here and not being able to fight together with the Order of the Phoenix, to fight for his parents' death, for Sirius's.... He inhaled deeply shaking away those thoughts that somehow made him think back to the battered veil that haunted in the back of his mind.
A sudden chill made him swiftly aware of his soaking pyjamas. Without glancing at his reflection on the blank mirror in front of him he took off his brown striped pyjamas shirt. A lean boy, with the visible traces of already entered manhood, showed the blank surface of the tall bathroom mirror.
The dark hair pointing at every direction seemed even more tussled than usual. Unconsciously he tried to flatten it, but failed.
His eyes traced from his hair and back to his face and seeing his tired features reflect upon the blank mirror he splashed some water to his face and hair, his hands afterwards gripping on the edges of the white basin. A flailing veil crept slowly into his mind, as a beaming face looked down at him, the fluttering shroud whirling behind. Perhaps he could try to finish the two parchment long Transfiguration essay they had for Monday, he thought, closing his eyes tightly while slowly breathing in, trying to forget.
He quickly walked out the bathroom. While opening his trunk by the end of his bed and grasping a clean shirt from the bottom of the stem, he became suddenly aware of the heavy rain outside. He sighed. Another soaking wet quidditch practise, he thought devastated, before leaving the dormitory, hearing, before closing the door, Seamus mumble in his dream: "Not another cookie Mummy! You should know right about now that my uncle Ron is not an idiot of a lizard!"
*
To his convenience the common room was empty. The fire from yesterday had long ago burned out. He lumped down on his favourite corner of one of the sofas nearest the fireplace, soon conscious of the quill, ink and parchment up stairs, lying untouched on the floor by the foot of his bed. That thought quickly entered his mind, but vanished as hastily again. He could easily do the homework tomorrow.
So instead Harry found himself with his chin buried in his hands, his elbows resting on the armchair, as he gazed deeply into the ashes in the fireplace. He was still not hungry. Not that he had been quite hungry since he'd begun school this term. His mood had taken away the pleasure tasty food usually gives. He found everything fairly meaningless, even quidditch, something he'd found previous years at Hogwarts school like his only consolation when everything else seemed hopeless.
Nowadays he felt empty at almost everything. There was no point. He could sometimes walk along the long corridors together with Ron and Hermione without hearing a single word they were saying, even when they were talking directly to him. And sometimes he forced himself to laugh at some of Ron's funny remarks about Professor Snape, Malfoy and his baaing cheeps, or Milicent Bulstrode's hideous nose, just to rub away the anxious and worrying expressions off their faces. But they were still concerned, and various times when they tried to talk to him about what really troubled him he ended up getting angry at them, demanding them to leave him alone, or he would just shrug and mumble that he was tired. Something he knew they didn't believe.
The truth was that nowadays, his mind seemed to drift away. His thoughts didn't longer concern the upcoming quidditch match against Slytherin, the amount of homework, or whether Snape was going to poison him during next lesson or give him a yet another "D" to release his fury of the fact that Harry had surprisingly enough succeeded to receive an "O" in Potions and was therefore able to read NEWT standard in Potions with Snape as the teacher. Something neither Harry nor Snape appreciated.
He found himself thinking over and over again, when everything would end. When he would be forced to meet Voldermort for the last time, the destiny he was meant to have that had been foretold sixteen years ago. If he would survive, or face death like his parents had, like Sirius had.
He let out a groan of frustration as his hands covered his eyes and pushed his hair away from his face, when he heard a voice calling him from the top of the whirling stairs to the girls' dormitories: "Harry?" Ginny Weasley descended the staircase, holding a parchment and a quill tightly in her arms. "Are you OK?"
Harry craned around swiftly in his seat, jumping slightly out of surprise. He saw her by the last step of the stairs, and managed to smile briefly: "Yeah," he mumbled, seeing the increasing frown on the white forehead a few feet away from him. "Just tired, had trouble sleeping only."
She peered at him, taking a step nearer at where he was sitting. "Are you sure?" she asked raising one eyebrow as she continued gazing at him demandingly. "Cause you've been saying this for so long that I'm finding it hard believing it anymore."
This was the first time Ginny had said the same thing that Ron and Hermione had been telling him for a while now, directly to him and him alone. Harry gazed back at her, suddenly annoyed of her sincerity, though he knew that she was right. Who did believe him?
"Well if you find it hard believing it, then don't," he snapped, looking away when he saw her tense where she stood.
"You know," she said after a moment of pure silence with a voice like she had come to realisation of something very important. "You don't have to be rude every time someone asks you how if you're OK. Maybe they just want to help-"
Harry turned his head to her, seeing the composure face still gazing at him. "Then, people shall stop worrying whether I'm OK or not. There's nothing troubling me, Ginny. I don't need any help. I'm fine, thank you."
"Well, that's the hook," she said coolly walking nonchalantly towards the opening of the Fat Lady. "You don't seem like you are."
Seeing the soon disappearing waist long red hair made the usual guilt in the pit of his stomach to lurch in protest.
"Wait, Ginny!" he shouted.
A face was first visible behind the corner of the wall, then the grey cloak with the wavy red hair hanging loosely down the shoulders. "I'm sorry," he muttered under his breath, loud enough for her to hear it, and with his eyes staring uncomfortable on the red and golden carpet on the floor.
There came no reply, making him believe that she'd turned around and left, leaving him stupidly looking down at the floor. But when he raised his eyes he saw that she was still there, looking at him, as if waiting for him to continue.
He sighed. "It's just that-" he looked at the ceiling, and then at her, whose face was calm and serene. He searched for the right words, but his tongue seemed to have been swallowed and stuck somewhere in the middle of his throat. "I-I-keep thinking all the time." The words came quickly, not giving him anytime to reflect. "I don't want to think anymore."
The words sounded stupid, even to him. But it was exactly what he felt, and he felt rather surprised that they'd come so naturally and that he'd said them in front of Ginny Weasley. At the same time he felt like a tremendous relief to actually have spoken them aloud, to say what he was longing for but never could achieve, and least of all in his dreams.
Ginny just looked at him and by the expression on her face, a mixture of realisation and relief, Harry knew that she'd understood what he meant. Crookhanks walked drawlingly from his sleeping corner towards Harry and purred softly, his tail curling itself around Harry's leg.
"I think that I can help you with that Harry," she said thereafter with a determined voice. Harry just looked at her, confused and slightly taken back. For a quick moment he thought that she was pulling his leg off, but from the grave expression on her face he knew that she being serious.
When Harry didn't answer, she added impatiently; "Follow me Harry." He still didn't move. She smiled at him. "I'll show you."
And turning around she walked out of the common room, having Harry soon following her and leaving Crookshanks slightly annoyed, not because he believed her to a hundred percent of what she'd just said, but because this would prevent the flickering battered veil slither into his mind yet again.
*
They went along the long and quiet corridor in the Gryffindor tower, greeting Headless Nick, who had been out for a morning stroll around the castle, and went down the staircase that would lead them to the marble staircase. They had to hide behind a steel armour when they saw Peeves fly with a vicious look on his face, with Filch close behind uttering filthy words about the poltergeist, and only when hearing Filch's roaring voice become like the noise of an annoying wasp as he limped along the corridor further and further away, did they dare to walk down the marble staircase.
Entering the Entrance Hall, Ginny turned left, and just when Harry though that she was leading them to the north tower she turned right, and walked upwards an old staircase that cracked dangerously by every step. Harry was now very curious of where they were actually heading to, but after having asked Ginny three times already he knew that there wasn't actually any meaning of asking her again, though she was determined to not say a word until they got there.
"The astronomy tower?" he said finally, when they climbed the last staircase, and reached a huge stone platform, the rain quickly soaking him wet as he stood there on the middle, gazing at Ginny with an expression of what-are-you-crazy? "You wanted to show me the astronomy tower?"
Ginny, who had been bright enough to stay on the threshold, entering the platform, now quickly ran to the stone wall on Harry's left that seemed to be a very tiny tower compared to the other ones in the castle. She turned to him, her quill and parchment hidden under her cloak. "It's the old astronomy tower, Harry!" she shouted, not knowing if he'd be heard through the rain that smattered the cold ground.
Harry looked around, yes there were some minor differences, like the tower, he came to realise. Ginny suddenly whispered something under breath. Harry didn't catch the whole sentence as he stepped nearer, but at least understood that it was a spell. Soon the brick stones moved away, like the brick wall when entering into Diagon Alley at the Leaking Cauldron, but with the difference that instead off showing an opening there was a door.
Harry could only gape, while Ginny entered, beaming brightly at him by the door in spite of her drenched hair and clothes.
"Will you come in, Harry-" she smiled." -or will you stand there in the rain?"
Still gaping (Harry knew that he must look foolish by now), he entered into a small circle formed room with a soft red carpet that came up to his ankles and a ceiling showing a bright and golden sun above. Harry looked at it and before he needed to ask why there was a sun shining, when it was a the worst hurricane ever outside, Ginny whispered; "It's an enchanted ceiling, like the one in the Great Hall."
Harry nodded, forcing his eyes away from the ceiling above, which somehow gave in an unexplainable peace and calmness inside him, to look around. There was nothing else to see, besides the carpet and the cushioned ebony white walls. And in all Harry's bewilderment he found himself asking why he, Ron and Hermione hadn't found this room having the Marauder's Map and all, but when thinking about it more he came to realise that the map had still secret passages and furtive rooms, which they hadn't discovered yet. And this was one of those.
"How?" was all that Harry could muster out, his gaze wandering back to the beautiful sky above, while water continued to trace along his face, feeling an unreasonable warmness in spite of his drenched clothes.
Ginny had removed her parchment and quill from under her soaked cloak, and had sat down against the cushioned wall, when she looked up at him, shrugging, neither she giving away a sign of uncomfortable with her damp clothes clinging to her body like a second skin. "Oh well, it was mum actually who kind of helped me."
"Mrs. Weasley!?" Harry asked intelligently, wondering how many surprises he would receive in one day. The fact of Mrs. Weasley telling Ginny about a secret room, which wasn't perhaps permitted to be used, was as reasonable as if Malfoy dancing the Hula-hula in the Great Hall during supper.
"No, Piggy," Ginny answered, rolling her eyes. "Of course my mum!" Harry still looked at her, still as surprised. Ginny saw his face and grimaced. "Well, okay she didn't tell me just so that I would run and seek for it. She thinks that I have more common sense than that," she beamed at this, "It was during one of her moments when she told me about where she used to go during nights to meet my father" (At this point Harry could see Ginny blush slightly, colouring her cheeks briefly pink) "and not being caught by the usher Apollyn Pringle-" (at this point she caught Harry grinning, and her cheeks flushed even more) "-Hey, they were NOT doing THAT!- Anyway, will you let me continue? Good, where was I? O yes, well she always told me about this room, and well I put two and two and made it to four, and well- that's my explanation."
Harry nodded, still standing up, his eyes tracing back to the ceiling yet again. Somehow it caught his whole concentration, and made his mind blank and filled with fluffy things like white clouds, buzzing butterflies, colourful flowers and the smell of roses.
"This is why I wanted you to come, Harry," Ginny whispered, pointing at the ceiling. "My mum always told me that it was something special about it, making you forget everything, making you somehow happy inside." She smiled at Harry, and tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear before saying; "Do you understand what I mean Harry?"
He nodded, and before he knew it he beamed and knew that it came from the deep of his heart, feeling for the first time that there was still hope in the world, as he lay down with his arms under his head, and stared up at the enchanted ceiling with the radiating sun above.
"I call it Alegria Echisero," she said smiling, as if not wanting to disturb him. "'Enchanting Beauty' I come here every morning, well when I'm not too lazy of course!"
But Harry didn't hear her any more. And mumbling the soothing name, he felt himself lost in the eternal sky above.
*
Everything, every nightmare, every dread seemed to swim in a white fog in his head. He could no longer reach out with his fingers and touch them. And every time he felt like was about to feel their surface and fall back to reality, he could almost swear that he heard a warbling nightingale sing in his ears. All he could see was the beauty above him, all he could feel was the happiness that lightened up the whole room, even in the darkest corners of his soul.
After a while he became aware of a scratching sound against paper, and with his emerald eyes still on the merry sun, he asked drawlingly; "What's that noise?"
Ginny mumbled something, and then looked up from her paper, watching with surprise at Harry as if she'd forgotten he'd been there. "Oh, that's nothing really," she looked down again, and continued with the scratching against the surface of the paper.
Harry sat up, forcing his gaze to look away from the ceiling and to Ginny, who was frenetically scribbling down something on the parchment. "Homework?" he asked, Ginny suddenly reminding him of Hermione, with her light brown eyes filled with concentration and a slight trace of insanity, as she continued writing.
Ginny looked up yet again, smiling. "Don't be ridiculous. I don't think that anyone, even Hermione, can do such things here."
"So what is it?" he asked, glancing occasionally at the blue ceiling.
Ginny sighed. "Well- can you keep a secret?" she said, staring at Harry slightly suspiciously.
"You know mine," he answered smiling, remembering what he told her in the common room an hour or so ago, even though it felt like at least two hundred years ago. Ginny raised her eyebrow. "Well, all right, not technically."
She sighed yet again. "OK- I write," she peered at him, waiting him to laugh or something. "So?"
"So what?" Harry said.
"Aren't you going to laugh, say something funny?" she said, still staring at him rather guardedly, still not trusting Harry's calm face. "Not even be sarcastic?"
Harry looked at her, slightly bemused." Am I suppose to?"
Ginny shrugged, the corner of her lips curling. "Suppose not. I don't know- isn't it a little dorky thing to write? I mean Fred and George think-"
Harry raised his eyebrows, his smile increasing. "Ginny, we're talking about Fred and George here. The ones who the renewed the meaning of buying Stinkbombs?"
Ginny snickered, knowing that he'd made a perfect point. "Yeah, guess you're right."
Seeing Ginny dive in her parchment yet again, made Harry slightly curious of what she was actually writing. And he felt that it would be rather polite if he asked rather than not caring at all and return to the ceiling that somehow chanted his name over and over again. "So, what're you writing? Is it a diary?" Harry found himself asking, and suddenly remembering his second year and Tom Riddle. Somehow, thinking about that name felt like someone had just thrown him a huge rock onto his chest. One memory, that had been all foggy and unclear recently suddenly came back to life.
Ginny seemed to be thinking in the same tracks, though he saw her involuntarily shiver in the luminous sunlight. "No. No, more diaries for me," she managed to smile, looking at Harry. "It's more like a novel."
"A novel?" Harry wondered, rather impressed. "Cool! So, can one read an excerpt from it?"
Ginny laughed at this, looking as if what Harry recently had said was something extremely hilarious. "Read it? No! It's personal!" she managed to calm herself down, but still grinned.
"No, but seriously," Harry said, now feeling the sensation of looking up at the ceiling more than ever. The name Tom Riddle was still echoing in his head.
"Yes, serious Harry!" Ginny said, then her face became wondering. "Well, let's say like this, if I ever write a story about you, then you can read it, but if I never do, then you can't read any of my works."
"A story about me?" Harry said, his huge smile slowly fading. "Wow, then you'll have something to write about. And be sure to include all the juicy parts, specially when my parents died, how I got my scar when I was a baby, and then you can write about my first year here at Hogwarts, till my seventh year, even though I'm not sure that I'll survive till my seventh year." He looked away. "The titles should perhaps be ´Harry Potter and the Return of You-Know-Who`, hm and perhaps `Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Harry Potter and his lost Godfather', and maybe also 'Harry Potter and the Death of Cedric Diggory', and well what should we name my fifth year? Perhaps `Harry Potter and His Lost Faith In Everything Good.'"
He paused, breathing heavily. He didn't want to jump up like that on Ginny, and she looked rather crestfallen at the moment. But he hadn't been able to stop himself. And now it felt like he was holding twenty huge rocks with his bare two hands. The ceiling had suddenly stopped calling for him.
"I'm so sorry for saying such stupid thing," she whispered hoarsely, tugging on a red lock. "I never thought like that, I mean- I'm really sorry Harry"
Harry shrugged, his eyes never leaving the supple rug, which seemed to take his whole concentration.
"Perhaps, we should go back?" Ginny suggested mumbling, fiddling with the watch on her wrist. "The others must already be awake."
Harry nodded, thinking also that it would be best to do so. But neither one of them moved.
"Harry-" Ginny began again.
Harry sighed, managing to smile feebly. "It's all right Ginny, It was I who was a jerk, not you." His eyes drifted up to the ceiling, and felt himself calm down all of a sudden.
There was a moment of silence.
"Harry-" Ginny said again hesitantly.
"I said it's OK, Ginny," he answered somewhat impatiently, turning to her.
"No, it's not about that," she said, fiddling her watch a little more, as if checking whether she should clasp it a little more tighter around her wrist or not. "I was just wondering if you could-"
He watched the guilty expression on her soft features as her eyes darted on the second hand of her watch.
"- Not tell Ron and Hermione?" he asked, understanding the look on her face. "Don't worry, I won't"
Ginny smiled vaguely. "Perhaps I was selfish, and I am still, but from the first moment I opened the door I knew that I didn't want to tell anyone about it. I don't really know why," she shrugged, looking him in the eyes" Ron and Hermione aren't in need of it." She looked up at the ceiling, and then looked back at him. "But when I met you this morning I just knew that my suspicions about you since my fifth year were right. You have every right to know about it, Harry." She stood up and sighed while rolling up her parchment and taking a grip of her quill "This place is so-"
"Special?" Harry said, slightly taken back by her previous words, and also standing up while glancing at the enchanted sky.
Ginny nodded. "Yeah, too special," she answered, her gaze wandering up to the ceiling." I just don't think it's ready to be explored by others." She turned around and opened the door. Outside poured the rain down with the same strength as before, making Harry feel the contrast between warm and cold, to see the distinction between happiness and sorrow.
Harry suddenly shuddered, feeling some of the cascading raindrops kiss his face. Remotely he looked away from the ceiling that shone even more brightly than before, and turned around. The door sealed and they were welcomed by the rain and the grey clouds on the sky. They were back to reality. But this time Harry could almost discern the bright sun behind the heavy clouds, waiting for its return. He smiled.
They walked quietly back to the Great Hall, Harry redeeming what he'd just experienced, until Ginny said; "You know what Harry?" They passed the picture of a troll scratching his head absently.
Harry looked at her, smiling. "No, what?"
Ginny glanced at him, smiling back. "You are really a nice friend, you know that?" Harry looked at her curiously. "I mean, I don't know you as much as I perhaps should, though you've been Ron's friend, like FOREVER!" She grinned. "But with everything that has happened during all these years, I can actually tell you that I consider you as one of my closest friends Harry."
Harry beamed back, shaking his head slightly. "Eh, thanks I guess," he said hesitantly, glancing at her. "You know, you may be Ron's little sister, but you're really cool too."
Ginny snickered. "Yeah, typical man thing to say."
"What?" Harry said, wondering why she was grinning like mad.
She raised her eyebrows, still laughing. "'Eh, thanks I guess. And you know what I think you're really cool too,'" she said, imitating Harry's voice. "Here, have I poured my soul (she made a violent gesture with her arms) for you, and everything you can come up with is, `You're cool too´?" she snickered even more. "But don't worry Harry. It's really cool being consider as cool."
They continued chatting down to the Great Hall, Harry feeling more light- hearted than he'd done for a long time.
"I'm off to leave this," she said beamingly, when they reached the Entrance Hall as she pointed at her parchment and quill. "-and YOU shall go and have a decent breakfast and cram yourself with porridge, eggs, and bacon! One is beginning to think that you're planning to starve yourself to death!"
The Entrance Hall was already becoming rather crowdedly. Various students from Gryffindor walked down the marble staircase by now, one of them Colin Creevey who "Hi'd" them. Ginny mouthed a see you later, since there were already plenty of students parting them, but just as she was about to turn around and walk up the stairs, Harry shouted all of a sudden, "Ginny, when do you think we can return?"
Ginny, craned around. Her face was quite unreadable, as if she was unsure in what to answer. Harry watched the hesitation in her face, and began suddenly dreading of what her answer would be. But then she smiled, even though somewhat uncertain, but enough to make Harry understand there wasn't anything to worry about. "Tomorrow morning, at the same hour Harry!" she shouted back over the many heads, walking upwards the stairs till she disappeared from Harry's sight.
Harry's gaze wandered to the two wide open oak doors into the Great Hall, where voiced and laughs erupted like sounds of music to his ears. He smiled, while walking to the entrance of the Great Hall, and suddenly thinking of a certain enchanted ceiling on a tiny tower with a red carpet covering the floor and cushioned white walls.
When Harry entered the Great Hall he saw Ron and Hermione sitting by the end of the Gryffindor table, and beamingly he waved at them. He could see their chocked faces stare back at him from a distance, till they grinned back. Perhaps they smiled just because they saw Harry walk across the floor of the Great Hall to them, or perhaps because they thought they saw the old Harry walk back to their lives.
*****
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A chapter 2 ???