I finally added another chapter! Sorry, life got in the way, then got re-inspired.
Ginny sighed slowly as she approached the dark door of Grimmuald Place for the third time. It was after 11pm, and she had left her home disagreeing with her parents about the whole 'showing up at your boyfriend's place late at night' discussion. Arthur explained that Harry simply needed his personal time, while Molly wished to seize him and return Harry to her home. In secret, her mother's wish trumped her father's, and Ginny managed to sneak out of the home under Arthur's nose.
Mrs. Weasley's first choice would have been Hermione, yet as she and Ron were in Australia retrieving her parents, Mrs. Weasley was left with only one viable option – her daughter – and hoped that she wouldn't regret the decision nine months later.
The door appeared far more foreboding than she remembered, yet it could have simply been the moonlight. Ginny knocked and heard it resound through the streets, causing a jolt in her stance. Couldn't she just kidnap him and hurry home? The pause stretched into silence, and Ginny felt her anxiety fade away—it was another rejection.
However- a sudden tug of the door forced the wood to creak and Ginny peered down into the familiar round eyes of the house elf.
"Y..yes, miss?"
"Kreacher, sorry to intrude so late, but I need to see him. I must come inside."
The elf lowered his eyes briefly, then glanced behind him hesitantly. She was surprised by his response. "Please, miss, do come in. Master Potter has neglected his daily command of refusing house guests. I was hoping you would take advantage of this."
Ginny could not believe what she had heard. Permitted to enter? She had to take a moment to see if the elf was fabricating the whole thing, but he quietly moved aside and gestured her to enter. "Thank you, miss," the elf continued. " I have attempted all I could to release Master Potter of his misery, but I have failed."
After following him to the staircase, Ginny hesitated. "Tell me, Kreacher, what has he been doing?"
Kreacher recanted what he knew. "Master Potter spends all hours of the day in the study, or sleeping in his bed. Master Potter claims he is perfectly fine, as he seems, but truly lost he is. Has Kreacher make him dizzy drinks and leave him be. Kreacher believes that Master is attempting to rectify what the Dark Magic has done to others, but it has become enslaving."
The poor elf fell to her feet and pleaded, "Please! Tell Master Potter that it wasn't him! It was those dreadful wizards! Kreacher is disgraced to have called them masters!"
Ginny held him tight and comforted the poor thing. "Yes, Kreacher. I will. Stay down here and I will talk to him." The elf ran immediately to the kitchen and Ginny sighed again as she was left alone in the foyer. She realized the elf had not told her where he was, so Ginny began opening doors casually in hopes to see him glance up at her.
The halls were eerily dead of sound, but there did exist a echo of noise- a thud followed by an odd scraping sound. Ginny let it lead her to the farthest room on the right, which she remembered held the family tree of the Black family. The scraping continued as she neared the door, partially open. She could at last see his form, which faced away from her, and around his body was an accumulation of debris. Wood, dust, paneling, and even brick from the fireplace, which had light dwindling from it. Harry sat on the floor against a piece of furniture, left intact, and was repetitively grinding the tip of an ax against the wooden floorboards. The wall had been bashed to pieces. Nothing left of the family tree could be seen, and Ginny knew all too well that the outrage was directed at Bellatrix Lestrange.
The door creaked and Ginny froze at once. She saw Harry stop for a brief moment, then continue his mindless activity. She took this as an invitation, and with uneasiness, approached the sofa in which he used to support himself. As she walked closer, she caught a glimpse of what Kreacher meant by 'dizzy drink' and her face fell.
" I know the answer now."
Ginny almost gasped in fright. She did not expect him to speak to her. "W..what?"
His voice was calm and soft. "The riddle—I know the answer."
"Oh," she choked. "Okay...tell me."
"Hermione was right...it really was a stupid one. You take the 'L' out of pearl." Harry turned to look at her and the ax fell to the floor.
Ginny shifted her eyes back to his and smiled, "Naturally. How did you get it?"
Harry shrugged and stretched his back, answering matter of factly, "You know, I've had a lot of time to think lately."
She immediately found herself short with temper, but she forced herself to remain mild. His behavior was still very irregular. "Are you done thinking?" Ginny feared he would lash out at the response, but he instead had a wry smile cross his face. He was proud of what he had accomplished in the room.
"I have found my time here both functional and boring. As you see, I have been doing some remodeling, and Kreacher has been a great help."
"He says you've been researching how to learn from your mistakes, and drinking too much."
At this moment, Ginny at last saw his demeanor change. She was hitting nerves. Harry stood up and was compelled to grab the sofa for support. He was obviously still drunk. "Look, Ginny, I have been working extremely hard to find out how I could have done things differently, and above all, what I can do to clean this damn mess up left by Voldemort, and do you know what I have done?"
Ginny would not let him know she was scared of him. Never had she seen him so erratic. "What did you do, Harry?"
"I have discovered the list of families who have lost loved ones during the war, and will personally visit them to see what I can do to alleviate their pain. I have also researched all of the family documents and spellbooks to determine counterspells that could be useful for the Ministry's Auror program!" he pointed a desperate finger at the broken wall. "And this? It is the end of disgrace for Sirius and I. Lestrange will never show her sneering face at me again. It's over!"
Ginny quickly responded to his rant, "Yes, Harry, it's over. You have done wonderful things both at Hogwarts, and here. We can go to the Ministry with your findings, and then come home where we are all waiting for you."
He appeared to think over what she had said, yet his body language contradicted his intentions. Ginny could see desperation in his eyes—panic- and she was not able to see where it was coming from. "Harry, it's okay."
"IT'S NEVER GOING TO BE OKAY!"
"Yes, it will." Her calm voice did nothing to ease his behavior."
"No! I keep seeing the dead in my sleep. I wake up fending off invisible inferi, thinking they are crawling all over me and dragging me into the water. I see my Mother but I can't get to her. I hear that damn Howler and feel crushed knowing that now, with what I have researched, I could have done something."
Ginny would not let him speak anymore of death. She silenced him with a loud shout of "STOP IT!" He quieted but fury still burned in his eyes. "Harry, enough! Seriously, this is enough! Your life is more than just a stupid prophecy. You were born to become a great wizard, to help others, and be with me! I cannot heal you, but I need you to be there for me to heal! I am still here!"
She could see Harry slowly back away, but his eyes remained angry. At least he was quiet...not yelling his head off about what if's, which always angered her. She had her own what if's!
To ease the weight of the silence Harry shifted his body toward the dying fire and watched the embers flicker like his pulse. He felt regret, naturally, yet he could not shake the awful power of the darkness he endured on a daily basis. It consumed him. "Look, Ginny," he whispered. "Listen to me when I say this."
Ginny did not like the sound of it.
"I have been selfish, I understand that. I am not there and you need me. I am spending effort and time on something that is continuing to make me miserable. I am not a good boyfriend."
"I didn't say that."
Harry turned his head to look at her. "I am saying it."
Ginny was confused and wary. His mood swings were forcing her to keep the emotions in check, yet she truly was not liking the direction in which it was going.
The pause was unsettling. Harry groaned and managed to sit steadily on the edge of an end table near the fireplace. He appeared tired, defeated, but oddly calm. "Ginny, you are truly the most beautiful girl in the world. I care for you. I have done so for the longest time. I always wanted the best for you."
"You're not my brother, Harry." her voice came out higher than she wanted. "You're more than that."
Harry continued on as if she didn't speak. "I want the best for you. I say this because I have something I need to finish with the Ministry, and when I do, I am going as far away from here as I can. No more memories to be reminded of, and no magic. Just me, and that's it."
If Harry had a brick, he had hit her with it. Ginny felt her insides begin to implode, and her eyes became rimmed with blurring tears. What angered her the most was his calmness. How dare he just sit there? The room was left with her sounds of heavy breathing, and Harry shrank away. She wanted to throw things at him, scream—yet all she did was watch the love of her life slump in misery, eyes determined with what he had said.
Ginny was not sure how she mustered the voice. "You can't. We need you with us, and I do not want you alone out there, brokenhearted and without support. You can't do that to any of us."
"I have it all planned out and set in place. I am doing this with the idea that I can help myself heal. I will never be able to do it if I stay."
"THIS ISN'T WHAT WE MEANT!" she found herself screaming. "We gave you time to work out your grief. I cannot lose you to what you think is a chance to start over."
Harry replied in the same manner, "I KNOW IT'S NOT WHAT YOU MEANT! Did you really think that I planned on this in the beginning?" He stood up clumsily and forced her to back up towards the door. "All I wanted was to move on here, but there is no possible way!"
Ginny braced herself into the doorway and refused to move. He wasn't going anywhere! "You need to think straight, Harry! Sit with us and we can go over your options."
Harry laughed and gestured to the air. "Oh, to see how to get these witches and wizards to magically treat me like a normal person? To be left alone while walking in the streets? I need to be a nobody, Ginny. A flat out nobody who does what everyone else does. I am NOT a murderer!"
Ginny could see him instantly deflate—as if he had popped himself during his rant. It seemed like a better time than any. "Harry, those families - you know, who sent the Howler?"
Harry held himself as if shivering but said nothing.
"Kingsley and my Dad visited them yesterday morning. At first they were angry. Speaking about the usual blame—but Kingsley explained it all, you know, Harry? And they had actually stepped down from their blame."
"I don't believe it." he muttered.
"Harry, it's true! They were doing what every person does when a tragedy takes an innocent life. They were grieving. It is a family blaming the rain for the mud, but not appreciating it watering their flowers. You did the same thing with us after Cedric."
"This has nothing to do with him!"
"You're not listening! When Cedric died you blamed yourself, became angry at all of us for 'hiding' information from you because You-Know-Who was free to harm you. You were not angry at us, I know that. I saw grief, and I saw you hurt by the very people who were supposed to care for you—like Dumbledore."
A stifled sob halted her rant, and Harry remained constricted with his arms around himself, appearing cold, and lumbered to the sofa chair. "It got Sirius killed, Gin...these feelings."
"No it didn't"
"No, I see it! I was so angry, betrayed, and frightened that I had to act. I couldn't fight the gnawing anxiety and it sent me into desperation. I had to suffer the consequences of that—a life I was going to have like taunting piece of meat. And it was all lost. This is why I need to leave. I have to be somewhere new...where I do not have memories, good or bad. If I only knew a powerful memory spell I would have just done that."
Ginny remained where she was standing. Harry had muted tears building in his eyes, yet he wiped them away before they fell. She did not know how she felt at his remark—he appeared to be looking forward to the future, but a desperate man may try that memory spell he could not perform just to see if he could be successful.
"Harry, please. I am growing weary of worrying for you. I just need you home with us. I want to see you everyday, and know that you hadn't died. I am grieving for the 'old' you. Can you just please stay with us so we can go through all of this together? All I need is for us all to talk."
Harry remained closemouthed, and she could feel her heart sag. His breath was tight and ragged as he worked off his anger, and she held on to the silence for any response he could offer her. She almost didn't hear him whisper to her. "Fine. Just one day."
Unsure if it was the alleviation of her stress, or just simply because he she was in love, Ginny moved toward him and pressed her lips against his. Harry recoiled in surprise, but she wasn't going to allow him to move away. She continued to kiss him, and he pulled her towards himself on the sofa and returned her passion. Ginny felt on top of the world. Her childhood dream was finally happening, and she wasn't even dismayed by the fact she smelled firewhiskey on his breath. It was only the two of them, fully in lust, and she found herself sitting completely on his lap.
Harry had no idea what had gotten over him, but he truly did miss the smell of her hair, and the sensation of the strands ticking his face. She placed herself over him, and immediately his passion for her escalated. He could imagine the look on Ron's face if he knew that his best friend was snogging his sister, and that made him want to do it more. He moved to her neck and her gasp forced him to pursue every inch. He stroked the sides of her waist, her back, and rolled his fingers through her fiery hair. He loved her so much, he truly did. Ginny was alive and well, sitting on his body, and it felt marvelous. Harry panted softly near her ear, and he could see that she was allowing herself to become more daring. Ginny took his hand and had his fingers graze her breast, and he used all his effort not to sigh in pleasure. As much as he was enjoying this, he feared how far this would take them. She displayed no desire in stopping, and it was definitely apparent when she moaned in his ear and placed her hand over his over very excited erection.
"Ginny!' he gasped, "we have to stop. I'm sorry."
Ginny pulled away and he could see her concerned face, slightly disappointed, and searching for answers. "It's okay, Harry. It's all okay."
He shook his head, fighting the angry pull of his excitement to listen to her. "Ginny, first of all, I am still very drunk. Second of all, I want us to be ready."
"But you're coming home!" she laughed. "I'm so happy!"
A dark side in Harry's mind contradicted what she had said, but he ignored it. "You're beautiful and amazing, Ginny, but trust me, we are not ready."
Ginny appeared to think a moment, then smiled. She crawled off of him and Harry was left with an embarrassing pressure in his groin. "All right then, Harry. We will wait. Could you imagine if my brother found out?"
"Exactly."
Harry stood and shuffled through the debris of the torn wall, and avoided her eye contact. He knew she was expecting him to follow her to the door and leave to the Brurrow. He just wasn't ready.
"We can have Kreacher make an overnight bag and we can go back home together. I'd imagine they are waiting for us."
Harry's anxiety caused a sinking feeling. "Look, Gin, I am in no condition to show myself in front of your mother. I will go tomorrow before noon."
He could see her battling what to say next, and to prove his capabilities, he purposefully swayed as he turned toward the door. He definitely had her in a corner.
"Right...she would not approve of that, you know? Especially when you live alone."
"I have Kreacher."
"You're alone, Harry. Kreacher doesn't count."
He shrugged his shoulders and attempted to smile. Ginny returned it and made headway to the staircase. He watched her go quietly.
"Do you want me to help you into bed?" she asked, with a slight hint of mischievousness.
Harry rolled his eyes and responded. "No I think I got it."
Ginny laughed and headed down the stairs, and he could hear his house elf wishing her a good night. The loneliness returned to him at once, settling deep inside of his chest. How could he tell her?
