Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
First off, I wanted to thank all of those who filled me in on the future careers of some of the characters. I did know what Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville go on to do, but it was helpful to learn about Ginny's future. Second, I just wanted to confirm that I am planning on having them pursue the careers J.K. Rowling picked out – anything less than that would not be honoring her story. Third, I know some things may be confusing right now, but everything will be explained. There is a very good reason why Kingsley Shacklebolt is their teacher, and it will become evident in later chapters. Trust me. ;-)
Now, enough of my babbling! This chapter is dedicated to VGJunky158, the 100th reviewer. :-D I hope you like what I've done with your idea…
Harry was only mildly surprised to see Kingsley Shacklebolt's place at the head table was empty at dinner. Clearly he'd been called away on Ministry business – their meeting would have to wait. The handwritten note Hermione passed on from Headmistress McGonagall confirmed what he already knew, and Harry nodded his understanding to her before turning back to his meal.
He was just finishing his second helping of treacle when he realized something was wrong. He glanced around the Great Hall – students chattered noisily, and Harry caught more than a few whispers detailing their shock that the Minister of Magic was teaching at Hogwarts. The teachers were chatting amongst themselves – Trelawney actually looked slightly happy; as if Voldemort's defeat had temporarily robbed her of morose visions. Owls swooped around the room, dropping letters and packages onto the long student tables. Ron and Hermione were engaged in what looked like an intense whispered conversation – Harry made a mental note to ask Ron about the topic later. Ginny –
Was sitting beside him as always, but her arms were crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes roamed the room, looking mostly at the ceiling – as though trying to hold back tears. Harry felt like kicking himself as he only just noticed the empty plate before her. She was clearly upset about something, and he had missed it completely. He leaned over, careful to make noise so he wouldn't frighten her.
"What's wrong?" She continued to stare at the ceiling, as if the darkening of the magical sky above them was the most fascinating thing she had ever witnessed. "Ginny?" Hermione caught the concern in Harry's voice, and shushed Ron. Both friends looked at Harry, their eyebrows raised. He shook his head slowly – at a loss for how to help. Ginny's movement was so sudden that it startled him. She stood in one fluid motion, her arms still folded protectively.
"I think I'll just turn in," was all she said before nearly running for the exit. Harry stood to follow, but Hermione grasped his arm.
"She'll beat you to the common room, Harry, and you know you can't follow her up to her room." Harry's mind flashed back to the one time they'd tried to visit Hermione at the girl's dorms – the stairs had turned into a stone slide, making it impossible for them to reach the top. "I'll try talking to her. Maybe she'll tell me something." Hermione let go of Harry as he nodded. He looked back down at his dessert – unable to finish it as dread settled in his stomach. Ron and Hermione glanced at one another and stood, too; the three friends walked silently back to the common room.
Ten minutes later, Hermione joined Harry and Ron by the fire, shaking her head gravely. "She won't say anything," she murmured. "And she won't come down." Harry watched the dancing flames, searching his memory for something that might have caused this sudden melancholy mood in Ginny. He could think of nothing. With a sigh – realizing there was nothing he could do tonight – he stood and nodded to his friends, resolving to try and get some sleep.
xXx
Harry tossed fitfully in his bed. He felt as though he was back at number four Privet Drive, reliving the nightmares of Cedric's death.
"Kill the spare!" echoed in his head as he watched the jet of green light hit Cedric square in the chest. Wormtail carried the small bundle to the simmering cauldron as Harry retched from the pain in his scar. The spell was completed just as it had been before, and Harry watched in horror as a shape emerged from the water. Red hair trailed down the back of the naked figure. "Robe me," came the whispered command, and Wormtail rushed to fulfill his master's wishes. The figure emerged from the cauldron, and finally turned to look at Harry. His terrified heart beat faster as he recognized Ginny's features – her beauty marred by the hatred which shone from her bright red eyes.
Gasping, Harry sat up – moving so quickly that his vision swam. He ran a shaking hand over his eyes as he waited for the world to stop spinning. What was that?! he wondered as his heart pounded. This was only the second nightmare he'd had since Riddle's death, but it was different than the others he'd suffered before. What he used to see in his dreams was either happening at the moment, or was an exact memory of what had passed. These new nightmares seemed even more frightening – dark shadows of alternate reality – things he knew could not possibly happen, but that horrified him nonetheless.
The dark sky outside was tinged with grey at the edge of the horizon, and Harry guessed that dawn would be coming soon. Sleep was impossible now, so Harry slipped quietly into his school robes and out into the halls. Mrs. Norris meowed softly behind him, and Harry decided to walk the grounds for while – he would be less likely to be caught by Filch. He wandered down by the lake, his hands in his pockets to guard them from the chill of the morning air. As he walked down to the edge of the water, Harry aimed his feet toward a large rock that he knew waited a few meters away. He kicked a pebble as he went; his eyes downcast to track its progress. When he reached the boulder, he was surprised to see a pair of shoes before him that were not his own. He looked up quickly, and his eyes met Ginny's face. She was crying.
"Hey…" Harry sat down next to her, his left arm going around her shoulders. This was as much of an instinct for him now as drawing his wand had been when Kingsley had tried to disarm him in the middle of class. Ginny shifted in his embrace – she seemed almost unsure of whether or not she should pull away, and Harry looked at her in concern. "What is it?"
"How do you do it?" she asked cryptically. She avoided his eyes. "I could believe you waking up by coincidence – that night at the Burrow. But how did you know I was here now?"
This was not what Harry had expected, and for a moment he was at a loss. Then something clicked in his mind, and he understood. "I think it's the dreams." Ginny's brow furrowed in confusion. "Since Riddle died, I've only had two nightmares. Each one has somehow led me to you." He could feel Ginny shudder at the use of Voldemort's birth name, and he held her more tightly. "What is it?" he asked again, determined to get an answer this time.
"It's him," Ginny sighed, her breath catching in her throat. "It's the diary." Harry fought the cold fear that latched onto his heart, determined not to push her. After a moment, she continued. "Sometimes… I remember what he would say to me. How he would…" she shuddered again, "…encourage me. It was all empty words, and I think a part of me knew that." She still refused to look at Harry as she spoke. "All he really wanted was to hear about you – which worked well for me, as you were all I really wanted to talk about." Harry saw a redness touch her cheeks, quite unconnected to the crimson light from the slowly rising sun. "I can still hear his voice in my head."
"I've always wondered," Harry began slowly, "what he said to you. But I didn't think it appropriate to ask. He didn't tell me much… when I talked to him." Ginny looked at him through her thick lashes, as if gauging the potential of his reaction.
She took a deep breath. "I wrote the same silly dribble any girl would fill a diary with – my feelings about being away from home, my classes, how much I missed my parents, how glad I was to be in Gryffindor, and how scared I was to talk to you. Riddle kept his answers simple, sometimes telling me how much he loved Hogwarts when he went to school." She shook her head. "I still can't forget the first time he wrote back…" Ginny looked down at her clasped hands. "It was my first entry. I'd gotten the diary the day before, and I was so nervous about leaving home, that I thought it might help if I wrote about it." Harry nodded his encouragement and placed his right hand over hers. He felt her relax a little at his touch. Gratitude radiated from her eyes as she continued.
"I think I said, 'My name is Ginny Weasley, and this is my new diary.' I was just deciding what else I should add when my words disappeared. It scared me when someone else's handwriting appeared. It read, 'Pleased to meet you Ginny.' I stared at the page. He must've known that he'd alarmed me, so he continued. 'Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Tom Riddle, and this is the diary I used when I was at Hogwarts.' I can honestly tell you Harry, I thought I'd lost my mind." Her eyes widened at the memory, and Harry's arm tightened around her shoulders. "But it was so… easy to talk to him." Harry nodded as he remembered his own experience with the teenage Riddle from the diary.
"Tom Riddle was a very charismatic person," he supplied.
"I still feel like I should have seen through him sooner. That there was something I could have done to stop him." Her eyes filled. "I had no control," she whispered. "He made me do horrible things, and I couldn't stop him." One tear trailed softly down her cheek, and Harry wiped it away. "When it was over, I felt so guilty. Because I was too weak to stand up to him, Riddle almost killed you. I felt horrible for weeks." She started at the ground as Harry tucked her brilliant red hair behind one ear.
"Even now, I can't help but think that I failed – that I wasn't as strong or as brave as I should have been." Harry stayed silent. This was, for her, a release. Just as the time in Dumbledore's office when he had had to relive what happened at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. Ginny had held onto this for far too long.
"You know… sometimes… I wonder why I'm in Gryffindor." Her voice was almost a whisper, and Harry wasn't sure if he was truly meant to hear it. He grasped her face in his hands, remembering the blazing look that appeared occasionally in her eyes, and silently cursed Tom Riddle for destroying the confidence of one of the strongest women he knew.
"Ginevra Molly Weasley," she flinched, but stared at him. "Just because you weren't strong enough to fight Tom Riddle does not mean that you aren't brave." His eyes misted over, something she noted with surprise. "You are tough, smart, and courageous – and there is no one I would rather have by my side." He kissed her gently on the forehead. "Maybe that's why I love you so much."
Hope replaced the gloom on Ginny's face. "You really mean that, don't you?" she murmured. Harry nodded vigorously, and she shook her head. "I really don't deserve you. You know that, right?"
"Yet another thing that makes us a perfect match," he replied with a smile. He ran one finger down her cheek and gently traced her lips. "I don't deserve you either." Harry couldn't be sure which one of them moved first, but their kiss seemed to break through any barriers that remained. He couldn't hold her close enough as they both gasped for breath – unwilling to stop, and both cursing the need for oxygen. Harry's hands ran down her back while Ginny wrapped her fingers around his dark hair. Only when they became dizzy did they finally end the kiss as they gazed into each other's burning eyes. Ginny's face became as red as her hair when she realized that she had unknowingly moved from the rock and was now straddling Harry's thighs. She stood hastily as she tried to calm her breathing, and Harry had to hide the faint pang of regret at the loss of her comforting weight from his lap. He cleared his throat. "Sorry…"
"I'm not," Ginny replied quietly. Harry smiled slyly, and raised an eyebrow as he looked up at her.
"Then why did you leave?"
Ginny's eyes narrowed. "You know why, Harry James Potter – we're not married yet."
Harry's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Oh, that…" Ginny punched him hard in the shoulder. Harry laughed, then stood and wrapped his arms around her. She did not protest. "Remind me again why we're waiting?" he murmured, his lips brushing her skin as he gave in to the impulse to kiss her cheeks and forehead. It was hard to recall the reasons when he was this close to her.
"Careers," she mumbled. "Security…"
He looked into her beautiful brown eyes. "I've already told you that I have enough money to support us. I even have a house we can live in." Her expression shifted to one of mock horror.
"If you think I want to live in that spooky old manor with a painting screaming at me every day, you've got another thing coming, Harry Potter!"
"Hmm," he answered, "That's the second time you've used my full name in as many minutes. I must really be in trouble this morning." His brow furrowed. "Speaking of Sirius' place…" He paused, unsure of how to continue, and hesitant to break the mood. "I'm not sure what I should do with it. I know I don't want to sell it, but I don't think I could stand the thought of living there, either." Ginny stared seriously into his eyes and reached up with one hand to stroke his hair.
"We'll figure that out later," she said finally. "In the meantime –" Harry looked at her hopefully, "– we should probably be getting back to the castle. It'll be time for breakfast soon." Harry fought a frown.
"Do we have to?" he whined. Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Yes," she answered emphatically. "And we might want to think about limiting the time we spend alone for a while." She blushed. "Not that I don't trust you," she added quickly on seeing his face fall, "I just don't think I trust myself…"
Harry kissed the end of her nose. "Whatever you say. Though I'm not going to pretend it won't be hard for me."
"For us," Ginny corrected.
They kissed once more – softly this time – and headed back up to the castle, hand in hand.
Sorry if I've messed up some of the details with the diary. It's been a while since I've read the second book, and as I'm at work, I can't check the facts. If anything is glaringly wrong, I'll fix it later.
So, what did you think?
