Hello everyone :)
I'm here again, later than expected, but I'm here. Thanks to both of my beta-readers, Swallow-Tailed Kite and DanteVirgil09 this chapter will be as mistake-free as it can get :D
Enjoy the chapter, I'm happy about any feedback I can get :)
Chapter 9
A sharp knock disrupted the silence of the entrance hall in the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, on the night before Halloween. Arthur Weasley, who was on guard duty, wasted no time getting up and to the door. People often came to them at night, under the veil of the darkness. Many of them were injured in some way, so losing any precious seconds was out of question for the family patriarch.
He opened the door just a tad and looked outside. Two hooded figures stood on the threshold. Nothing out of the ordinary.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
He acted just like the father whose sleep had been disturbed, that he portrayed through Polyjuice Potion. A small, pleading voice answered.
"Please, I'm here on my own accord, and I… I didn't know what to do and please, I don't ask to be taken in myself, just take my son. I can't protect him any longer, and I-"
Arthur interrupted her rambling a bit harsher this time. Usually people gave their names first, then took off their hoods to reveal their faces.
"Who are you?"
"Narcissa Malfoy, but please, don't send us away or call for help, we're here in peace! It'll just attract attention."
She lifted her hood a bit and a flash of the signature Malfoy-blonde shone in the moonlight. Her pale skin looked ghostly white under the full moon. Bruises and dried blood marred her features, and she looked miserable and vulnerable like a broken china doll.
"I just want to help my son. Please. I can't protect him any longer. Please. Just, take my son and I'll leave you alone, just my… my only child. Please, just take my son. Please."
She was crying by now and muttering the same words over and over. Arthur looked at her, contemplated her. He'd always prided himself to be a good judge of character, and he could tell that she wasn't wearing a glamour charm of some sorts, her wounds were real. He knew he ought to call for help, Narcissa Malfoy was a known death eater and thus a threat, but something held him back.
"How did you find us?"
"I'm a Black, and I always know what's going on in a Black's House."
"Bellatrix?"
"Knows nothing. Denounced herself from the family when Sirius became head of house. But, please, none of this is important! Please, take him, he… I won't be able to protect him any longer. I ran out of excuses as to why he couldn't take the mark, please just take my baby!"
"Why haven't you betrayed us to Him?"
"You were my last hope to get Draco out of this. I just need to protect my son, everything else doesn't matter... I-If it helps you, I can't betray you because I'm not head of the house Black. Please."
Arthur fought with himself. He saw so much of Molly in that woman right now that he just couldn't imagine this to be an act. First and foremost, she was a mother, not a death eater, not a wife, not an aristocrat. A mother. He clenched his fists. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain that this wasn't an act. If she had wanted to spy on them and betray them, she could have done so before and she would have asked to be taken into the headquarters, too. She only wanted her son to be safe and as much as it pained him to admit it, he felt for her, he understood her and he would do the same in her position. This thought reminded him of something – of his own lost child. He interrupted her mindless pleading once again.
"Do you know what happened to Ginevra Weasley? Was she taken by your people? Is she…"
He choked on the word 'dead'. He just couldn't say it out loud.
Narcissa looked up, surprised.
"You mean, you don't know what happened to her? I thought you…"
She trailed off, an astonished look on her face.
"What? What is it?"
Arthur said quietly, but also quite urgently.
"She… We all thought you had broken her out of her prison. She just vanished in front of one of the guards. He said she vanished into something darker than a dementor's soul. He died mere seconds after he was found. I don't know what happened to her though. I just know that she's not there anymore."
Arthur stayed quiet. He didn't know what to think, but slowly, a feeling of hope rose in his chest, completely irrational, he knew, but the meaning of this slowly became clear to his senses. His daughter hadn't died at the hand of the Death Eaters. He knew she hadn't been broken when she had managed to take down a Death Eater before she vanished. It was a very strange feeling of relief. Without another word, he opened the door fully.
"Thank you. Thank you so much, I don't know how to…"
"It's okay, that's what we're there for."
He looked at the unmoving figure of what he suspected to be her son.
"What's up with him?"
"I stunned him. He wouldn't leave me or let me go back without him. But it's safer that way. He might be a little violent when he wakes up, but I was sure to remove his wands from him."
She handed over two long, thin, wooden sticks, their tips pointing towards herself. Arthur looked from her hand towards her face. This was the ultimate sign of surrender and defeat in the wizarding world. As he glanced into her eyes, he saw the same defeat in there. He nodded. Now he understood. He took the wands and let the unconscious boy float into the house.
"Thank you."
She had already thrown her hood over her face again and turned away, when Arthur grabbed her arm. She winced and looked back at him. He looked her in the eye – or where he suspected her eyes to be hidden under the material of her cloak – and slightly bowed his head in a gesture of respect. He would have done the same for his children.
"We'll take care of him. My wife just lost a child, she'll make sure not to lose this one."
The once prideful aristocratic woman nodded, thankful, and tears were shining on the small patch of skin showing under her hood. Then she turned away from him, into the night.
Arthur let the Malfoy boy float into the kitchen and slowly went after him. He had never fully realised how many of those on the other side weren't there willingly. Who would have thought high ranking Death Eaters like the Malfoys were not happy with their positions? Maybe there was still hope after all.
He lifted the Boy's hood and was surprised to find his face just as bruised, just as vulnerable looking as his mother's. Arthur stared pensively in the crackling flames in the fireplace. It had been a while since he had seen somebody as completely broken as Narcissa Malfoy. But she had still cared for her son, probably the only thing she still cared for. It wasn't a very Gryffindor thing to leave him behind, but at some point in his life he had seen that courage wasn't always the best thing. Narcissa Malfoy was too broken to be repaired, to ever live a normal life with her son again. It was probably the best for her to return wherever she had come from. A loud crack was heard as one of the logs in the fireplace was broke in two by the flames.
Arthur Weasley was sure Narcissa Malfoy wouldn't live to see tomorrow.
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It didn't take Harry much to convince his father and grandfather of how good the idea to go searching for a way to get Ginny back home was. His Grandfather had been wary of the young woman, even though Harry had delved into her mind, making sure she had no ill intention towards any of the elves, the King additionally gave him a few letters that he was to deliver to the one or another ruler. His father was supportive of his decision to help those in need and promised to get him any help he needed preparing. So, with the first light of dawn the next morning, Harry and Ginny walked out the front-gates, each of them a backpack swung over their shoulders. Light-hearted and with an optimistic smile on their faces, they swiftly made their way towards the stables. Even though Ginny was a mere novice to horse-riding, they would still travel faster by horse than by foot.
The maroon fur of Calenroh looked like blood next to the fair white of Harry's proud mare Êlheleth. Even though Êlheleth was not the smartest of the herd, she was by far the most temperamental and had taken a liking to Harry. Without any riding tack, they made their way through the forest, talking all the way.
"So, you're sure you know where we're going, right?"
Ginny was asking questions about their destination and how they would get there. Harry nodded reassuringly.
"Absolutely. It's not the first time I'm going to Esgaroth."
"Good. As long as we don't somehow end up in Haradwaith or Mordor-"
He interrupted her a bit harshly.
"Do not say the name of the dark lands so lightly. Names have power. Who knows what may be listening to us."
Ginny nodded.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. Is there a… a dark lord or something similar in this part of the world?"
He just shot her an affirming look and said nothing.
"Back home, we had one, too."
Harry pricked up his ears. She hadn't been very talkative about her home. He didn't know anything besides that she had many brothers. At least four. Fred, George, Bill and Ron as far as he knew.
"A dark lord, I mean. My family devoted their lives to bringing him down. We're not very successful though. Probably because most of us have lost hope. Not many people fight anymore. They've given up, lost their reasons to fight. With a bit of hope, a bit of ambition we could manage it. If there was a chance to win against the dark side, many would turn their back on their lord. There aren't nearly as many devoted followers in the system as he would like."
Harry nodded, understanding.
"There are definitely too many egocentric maniacs. Why rule the world? It is so much better to just see and experience it."
"The dark lord at home doesn't really have world domination as priority. First of all, he wants to kill all those who aren't magical and those who have non-magical ancestors. That would probably mean killing us all, but what the heck is logic anyway? He also wants to become immortal. Don't know how he'd try to manage that."
Harry snorted. This dark lord wanted to become immortal? The sound of that rang a bell somewhere in the back of his mind, but he ignored it. His whole family was immortal and from what he had heard, it wasn't really the best fate imaginable. Seeing the world change around you while you remain the same was a terrifying experience. That was one of the reasons why elves lived in such isolation.
Ginny could feel tension growing between them and decided to switch gears.
"So… how long will it approximately take until we get to Esgaroth?"
"About half a day by horse. But Esgaroth won't be the end of our journey, you realize that, don't you? I highly doubt anyone in Esgaroth will be able to help even the slightest bit."
She nodded and remained silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was full of curiosity.
"What does Esgaroth look like? Are there elves like at your home or are there humans, too?"
"You'll see what it looks like soon enough, and Elves don't live in Esgaroth. At least not permanently. You'll see mostly humans, but also a fair amount of dwarfs, who often come down from the lonely mountain to trade gems and precious metal for food. And sometimes, even-"
He was interrupted by a dark growl in the distance. Ginny groaned, annoyed.
"That was thunder. Merlin, this is the most clichéd appearance of a thunderstorm ever! A thunderstorm while getting lost in a dark and creepy forest."
Harry looked a bit less worried.
"We're not going to get lost. I know this forest like the inside of my pocket. And the thunder was fairly far away. We should reach Esgaroth in time before it starts. But we need to hurry up a bit."
He looked at her, calculating. She shifted, feeling slightly uneasy under his piercing green eyes. Why did they suddenly look so familiar?
"You can ride well enough to follow me. Try to keep up."
Ginny nodded and Harry now gazed right into the horse's eye.
"Calenroh, follow me"
To her own amazement, Ginny had understood the whole sentence. Her feeling of triumph was however quickly replaced by light panic, as Harry's horse darted off into the woods and Calenroh followed at the same breakneck speed. All she could do now, was concentrate on not falling off her horse, which she thankfully soon discovered the trick to. It was quite like flying, she once again thought, only shakier and without the sharp turns. She took a position similar to one she would use to play Quidditch. She lifted her knees a little, pressed her legs closer to the horse, and lowered her head next to Calenroh's neck.
In her new position, she could easily balance and follow Harry's movement in front of her. The white fur of Êlheleth was easy to spot in the otherwise brown and green forest, and she challenged herself not to lose sight of the horse. Slowly, a wide smile formed on Ginny's lips. She felt the speed, the wind in her hair, the rustling of leaves under and above her, the adrenaline cursing through her veins, and a feeling of freedom overcame her. Forgotten were the worries about her family's wellbeing, forgotten her quest to find a way home, and forgotten that she knew next to nothing of this world.
They weren't taking any paths, as many of them where blocked by the enemy, Harry had told her, and she wondered what kind of enemy it was that he would take such pains to avoid it. He was after all a very accomplished warrior from what she had heard. The small defeat against the spiders had been bad luck, that much was clear to her. If the spider had attacked on any other side, someone else would have fallen victim to it. Nobody had heard it coming, and it had attacked too fast to be warded off. Harry told her he hadn't even had the chance to lift his sword. There were no long lasting effects, of course, except maybe a wounded ego on Harry's side. The fallen elf had already been dead when the spiders took their hostages to their lair. He had died at the docks, fighting off the large animals, so even without the group's brief delay and two men short, they wouldn't have gotten him out alive.
She was snapped out of her musings, when Êlheleth suddenly stopped and Ginny barely held on to Calenroh, who came to stand next to the white mare. Her eyes widened when she saw, why they had stopped. Someone was standing in front of them, blocking their path.
"Who are you?"
Harry's voice sounded very intimidating, and for a moment, Ginny was glad that she was on the same side as him. The woman in front of them held a staff made of old wood, was extremely old and balding, with most of her hair hanging in thin strands from her head. She wasn't at all tall to begin with and her hunched back amplified that impression. She somehow reminded Ginny of a crow, with her long black coat and her beak like nose. She gulped when the woman's dark eyes stared directly into hers.
"Don't touch the water."
Her voice even sounded like the caw of crow. The woman smiled, and Ginny shivered slightly. On the right side of her mouth, her teeth were orderly and pearly white, like a toothpaste model's, while on the left side of mouth, her teeth were brownish-black and many had fallen out. It was as creepy as it was disturbing to look at.
"Tell me who you are."
There wasn't even the slightest tremor in Harry's commanding voice. The woman looked away from Ginny and her black eyes found his. Both horses had started to sidle about nervously. Ginny could see Harry's Adams apple bob up and down as he gulped.
"Don't touch the water."
"What are you doing here and who are you?"
She turned around and without another word, she walked away. As if petrified, neither Harry nor Ginny made a move to stop her. As soon as she was out of sight, Harry cursed quietly, and turned his head towards her.
"Who was she and why wouldn't she answer? Any ideas?"
Ginny shook her head.
"What I wonder is what water she meant?"
"Oh, I'd guess she meant the small pond nearby. I wouldn't touch it anyway though, it's poisoned since some great plague that killed many spiders, a few years ago."
He jumped off his horse and motioned for her to do the same. He went to the place where the woman had stood and bowed down. Not knowing what to do, but not wanting to stand around uselessly, Ginny followed him. He stared at the point where the woman's feet were supposed to have left a trail, but there was nothing. Harry snorted next to her and she heard him muttering quietly to himself.
"Typical… always me… strange…"
He leaned closer to earth, as if that would make footprints appear. His hair fell into his eyes, eliciting an annoyed sound from the back of his throat and he pushed the unruly bangs out of his face. Ginny halted and stared. No. That wasn't possible.
"What's that on your forehead?"
He looked up at her, startled.
"A scar, but that doesn't matter, we need to find out who that was and how she could have left no footprints at all!"
Ginny thought quickly, connecting the dots in her head. Could it be…? No that was impossible. He was dead!
"It does matter, can you tell me: you said you were adopted, right? Do you know if you had a last name?"
He shook his head.
"What does it matter now? Potter, if you really need it. But we need to-"
"Harry Potter? Your name is Harry James Potter?"
His eyes narrowed warily and Ginny just stared at him, unbelieving. This was just impossible, unbelievable, yes, ridiculous even.
"How do you know my middle name?"
"Son of James and Lily Potter? Godson of Sirius Black, first of the second generation-Marauders?"
"How do you know all of that?"
Ginny had to sit down. It really was him. He was supposed to be dead! A bedtime story! A fallen hero! Not this… this so very normal man. He was nothing like the bedtime stories, but everything Sirius had imagined him to be. She looked into his green eyes and wondered how she could have not noticed. His eyes were Lily Potters, she'd seen countless pictures of the woman, and his body, his posture looked exactly like James Potter's on the endless photographs in Sirius' room. How could she have not seen that?
"How do you know all that, Explain!"
A frown marred his forehead now and the lightning-bolt shaped scar was once again covered by his long bangs.
"I… I don't know where to start."
"We've got all night. Start now."
Ginny took a deep breath. How could she explain everything to him? Everything that had happened? Everything about her, no, their world?
"Well, I guess it all starts with a guy who hated those without magic. He called himself-", she lowered her voice to a whisper "Lord Voldemort."
"Wait, I know that name. It's in the letter my parents wrote."
He took an old, battered piece of parchment out of his breast pocket and unfolded it.
"Here: 'We're looking everywhere for a possibility to destroy the Voldemort.' Is that him?"
She flinched at the sound of that name, but said nothing when nothing happened. There was no taboo here. This name meant nothing in this world and she shouldn't be afraid.
"I'd say so. Do they say whether they found a way to kill him?"
"Uhm… They say something about creating horcruxes to stay immortal?"
"Possible. I've never heard about horcruxes, but that doesn't mean they don't exist."
He shook his head slightly, as if to clear it.
"Doesn't matter now, so, the story?"
"Right, so this bloke sets out to kill all those he deems unworthy of learning magic. Your mother was one of those deemed unworthy. Your father and mother fought him. Then your mother became pregnant and shortly afterwards, there was this prophecy. I don't know the exact words, but it was something about a child being born that would kill the dark lord. Oh, and neither can live while the other survives."
Harry looked even more intrigued now.
"I know that sentence, wait, I think I heard that in Lady Galadriel's mirror! My parents where there and an old man in colourful robes with a very long, white beard. Do you know who this could be?"
Ginny responded immediately.
"That was probably Professor Dumbledore. He died when I was eleven."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I didn't really know him. He was headmaster at Hogwarts, the magic school and also leader of a group of rebels against the dark Lord. Your parents were part of that group."
"What was it called?"
"The order of the phoenix, and now stop interrupting the story."
She spent at least half an hour telling him all that had happened back home, except that she made it sound like the Chamber of Secrets had been opened by some other person, not her – She didn't really feel like sharing that particular detail of her past, not after she had successfully hidden it from him when he went into her mind. From the legend of Harry Potter, the boy who lived, to the dark times that now ruled the British Isles, she told him everything. It felt surreal, talking to this man she had known for a few weeks now, and knowing that this was The Harry Potter. It wasn't really surprising that she didn't notice, she supposed, because after all, who would expect to meet a seemingly long-dead and more-legend-than-real person in this strange far away world. This was like… meeting Merlin in Narnia. Something you'd never expect.
Harry had gone very quiet at the end of her story.
"Your world sounds awful."
"My world? That is also your world! Your family is there!"
"No. My family lives here. In the realm of Mirkwood.
Ginny frowned, but decided not to press the subject. She still couldn't quite believe who was sitting in front of her. A strange feeling rose in her chest, something along hope and joy that she couldn't quite place, when she realized all the consequences her discovery would have.
"This is going to be fantastic! Dad always said we'd win the war easily, if we just had someone to bring us hope, to unite us, someone to whom we can look up to! You could be our leader in that war!"
Harry snorted contemptuously.
"Sounds more like a mascot."
"Only if you let them make you a puppet. And you aren't a puppet, right? You are so much more, you could bring us hope and light in a time full of darkness and death. You could be so much greater."
He flinched at her wording.
"But I don't want to be great. I don't want to be anything but just Harry. I don't want to leave my family."
"You wouldn't need to. If we can find a way to my home, we can find a way back here, too."
He stayed silent for a moment.
"We need to go on if we don't want to be caught by the thunderstorm.
As if to emphasize his words, it started to rain and a new thunder was heard, this time much closer to them.
Harry looked up towards the sky that was still obscured by leaves.
"We should be able to make it in time before it arrives fully. But we need to hurry."
And with that, he jumped onto his horse again and Ginny had no choice but to follow and mount Calenroh.
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In the end, they managed to get to Esgaroth in time. Drenched by the rain, but not caught up in lightning and thunder. The storm arrived about ten minutes after them. By that time, the horses where safely placed in a stable and Harry and Ginny had found the inn 'Golden Dragon'. In order to save money Ginny had insisted on renting only one room. Any attempts to persuade her to let him sleep on the floor or on a chair had been crushed by her quite effective arguing-skills.
"I insisted on one room, I'll have to stick out and face the consequences. You shouldn't be punished for my decisions."
Not really feeling up to spending the night on the cold, hard floor, Harry let himself be persuaded. He quickly came to regret that decision however, when he saw how very small that bed was. He shook his head. He'd worry about that later on. Especially as Ginny didn't seem to mind – she had sat down on the small windowsill.
"Do you want to eat something at the inn's bar? I'm not particularly up to going out into the rain when we just got out of it."
She looked torn.
"What time is it?"
Harry looked at the night-like sky and responded after a quick glance at the grandfather clock in the room, "Three o'clock sharp."
She nodded.
"Do you think the storm will be over when we're back up?"
He frowned.
"I don't think so. Why?"
She shrugged and got up.
"I like to watch thunderstorms. They're calming."
He raised an eyebrow, finding the change in response a bit odd "You didn't seem too excited about it when we first heard the thunder."
They made their way downstairs, to the public parlour and went to sit at the bar.
"Well, we were in a forest then, and after the forest we had to ride across very flat grass-land. On horses. Tall horses. I don't exactly fancy being hit by a falling branch or struck by lightning." She explained herself.
Harry snorted. He could see that logic alright.
"Do you happen to know if they have a library around here?"
"Yes they do. No proper big town without a library. But it's somewhere in the centre of the city, so not exactly next doors."
"We'll have time to go there tomorrow."
It sounded more like a question than a statement.
"If you say so. But I doubt the library will have anything that could help you get back home."
"I'm not looking for way to get home."
They were interrupted by the bartender who came to take their orders. As soon as he was gone, Ginny explained.
"I want to research the local flora and fauna. I'm not much of use without a wand, but I was really good at potions back home. You do need a wand to do that, but I'm sure I can manage to send the basic pulse of magic to get the ingredients to react properly with each other, even without a wand. I need to find if there's any similarities between the plants and animals back home and those here. I haven't really found many books on that subject in Mirkwood, at least none that weren't written in Sindarin."
"What do those potions do?"
"Oh, there are any different potions with a variety of effects. Some just cheer you up a little, and there's one that can make you fall asleep so deeply, that they called the potion 'Draught of Living Dead'. You can brew liquid luck, poison that goes completely undetected, a serum that compels you to say only the truth, a potion that makes you look like any other person, and so much more. Those are just the more known ones."
Their food arrived, and the talking ceased for the time being. When they finished eating, they paid for their meal and went back to their room, without any incidents besides one cheerful looking old woman who had asked them if they were on honeymoon. Harry actually felt proud of himself for not blushing and stuttering. The physical aspects of the honeymoon did sound attractive – there was no denying his companion had a great body. Ginny had answered politely, that they were just friends travelling the land for educational purposes. She hadn't seemed bothered by the question at all. He mentally shook his head and told himself to get his mind out of the gutter. They were definitely nothing but friends.
They spent rest of the afternoon in their room, alternately playing cards or (in Ginny's case) just looking out of the window and (in Harry's case) carving simple ornaments into a little piece of wood. The storm didn't cease and still rattled at their window when they came back from the dinner they had downstairs at the inn's bar. As it got late and they both grew tired, the issue of the small bed once again resurfaced in his head. They'd probably both fit, but only when lying on their sides. However, Ginny didn't seem to notice that, as she took her bag and told him not to turn round, as if he did she'd find a way to do magic without her wand and he'd never be able to even think about having children ever again, while she put on a nightdress. He had laughed but did as told. That gleam she'd had in her eyes when she jumped off Calenroh had not yet vanished. It looked like there was fire burning inside her eyes. He'd rather avoid having to face her wrath anytime soon.
A few minutes later they both lay on the bed, trying hard not to touch each other and nearly falling off the bed in the process. The tense atmosphere was broken however, when Ginny started chuckling.
"What's the matter?"
"This is ridiculous."
He wasn't quite sure whether she meant the situation or the position they were in. Either way he wholeheartedly agreed.
"We should find another solution, right?"
"Definitely. This is just too awkward."
He turned his head to look at her and suddenly couldn't help but start laughing, which made her, too, crack up. When they'd both calmed down, Harry sat up.
"I still think the best option would be for me to sleep on the floor."
"And I told you that this isn't an option. If anything, then it'll be me who sleeps on the floor."
"But-"
"Shush. I've got an idea. You'll sleep with your head on the pillow and I'll sleep with my head next to your feet. Perfect!"
Harry highly doubted that this solution was 'perfect' but decided not to say anything, given the enthusiastic look on her face. He rested his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, trying his hardest to fall asleep.
His efforts must have worked out, as it was completely dark when he was jerked awake sometime later. A bit groggy and disoriented, he grabbed a match and ignited the candle on the nightstand. In the light he could see slightly better, even though everything was still blurry – the draught that corrected his eyesight had worn off. After taking care of that problem by taking a small dose of the liquid, he also saw what had woken him up. Ginny was moving around restlessly and her jerky movements were probably the reason for his early awakening. That wasn't what concerned him though. She was quite obviously having a nightmare. Her face was twisted in sheer torment and she was murmuring. Most of it was incomprehensible, but he was able to understand a few single words.
"No… Tom… Don't… not Bella… let me… Please... I'm… NO… run…"
Words of denial and rejection left her mouth particularly clear. A dull, clammy feeling rose in his chest as he watched her struggle with the pictures her mind conjured. Her nightmares probably weren't even imagined pictures. Judging by the look of terror on her face and what he had heard of her home world, it was probably memories. Sadly, the remembrances were probably worse than imagination. Deciding it was better for both of them if he woke her up – he hadn't forgotten about his nightmares a few years ago – he very gently shook her shoulder. After a few, long moments, she jerked awake with a small cry and sat up, wide eyed. He was silent while Ginny got her heartbeat and breathing under control. As soon as she seemed calmer, he began to speak.
"You had a nightmare."
She shook her head, her expression became guarded.
"It was nothing."
Harry hmm-ed. Ginny coughed.
"Do we… Do we have some water up here?"
He grabbed his bag from the nightstand and took out a flat leather flask. He watched her closely as she drank. A thin sheen of sweat lay on her face and glistened in the light of the candle. A few strands of damp hair stuck to her forehead.
"Are you sure it was nothing?"
She nodded, a slightly haunted look on her face.
"I'm fine."
He lowered his head slightly, and smiled sadly at her hands, which were gripping the flask so tightly, her knuckles were white and her fingernails looked purple.
"Funny, that. I told my father the same when I had nightmares. I definitely wasn't fine back then."
He looked up again, just in time to see Ginny avert her gaze. She looked out of the window now.
"You'll be able to fall asleep again?"
She shrugged, not looking at him.
"I'm absolutely fine. I'll manage."
Harry blew out the candle and lay back down. He knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, Ginny all the more so as him. Instead, he pondered on a way to get her to talk about the dreams. It had definitely helped him, even though he had refused to speak about the images his mind showed him for many years. Speaking had certainly lifted a small weight off his shoulders.
The mattress dipped slightly as Ginny stood up. He could see her small silhouette against the window. He heard her take a deep albeit shaky breath. He supposed, he should let her know that talking to him was always an option for her.
"You can tell me-"
"Can I tell you-"
They had started and stopped talking simultaneously. It somehow broke the tension that hung heavily in the room. He heard Ginny chuckle quietly and allowed himself a grin.
"You go first."
"I wanted to tell you that you can tell me, if you want. I… have experienced quite horrible nightmares myself and talking really helped me."
It was quiet for a few moments and even though it was dark, he could tell she was watching him intently.
"You know, I wanted to ask you if I could tell you about the nightmares. I have some experience with them, too, you know?"
She sounded extremely bitter.
"Talking always helped me. I used to talk to my godfather about them. Actually, when I think about it, he's more your godfather."
She sighed heavily. As she spoke again, in a small voice, she sounded unusually vulnerable.
"They were supposed to be gone."
She drew another shaky breath.
"They stopped a few years ago. Not completely, mind you, but now I've had them every night for the last few weeks. I think being imprisoned triggered some bad memories and the completely new environment of Mirkwood afterwards encouraged the effect. The dream is always the same. I'm elven again. I'm a prisoner in my own body. And I have to watch. I have to watch as my body does unspeakable things, under Tom's control. I'm inside my body, but I don't have control over it. I watch as my hands kill my family, my friends, everyone I know. I see the betrayed look in their eyes, the hatred, and I know it's directed at me. But I can't do anything. And I feel Tom's satisfaction and glee at their deaths in my own body. I feel disgusted and repulsed at myself for feeling joy in the face of death, even though those aren't my feelings. I still feel them and I hate myself for it. And I can't do anything."
He was sure he heard a very quiet, dry sob. He wondered who Tom was supposed to be, but he didn't dare interrupt her to ask.
"You know, there's a creature at home, which turns into your biggest fear when you face it. I… I always wanted to know what I saw. I figured it had to be something spectacular. Maybe the diary, maybe Tom – that's what I call Voldemort - maybe the basilisk or even myself as I'm being possessed. But it's none of these. No, when I finally got the chance to see one of these creatures, it turned into a cage. A bloody cage. What kind of fear is that supposed to be? How is a cage scary? The twins taught me to pick locks before I could even write, and I can easily unlock it with my wand. There's nothing scary about a cage. I think the boggart may have been ill and didn't work properly."
Harry didn't think so. He could see very clearly what she was afraid of, and he was quite honestly, impressed by it. But he let her ramble on. It wouldn't help if he interrupted her now.
"I just… Without magic, I feel so useless… I hate feeling useless! Because I'm able to do things on my own, I'm not some damsel in distress or a silly little girl as I was back then. I want to be able to help, but everything I've learned is useless here. Who knows if the weather is the same here as back home? Who knows whether the same laws of physics apply here? Who knows if any of what I've learned to do is possible in this world? I sincerely hope I can get something out of potions. Maybe even teach you some theory about magic, as I am not able to practice it. But I'm not really great about theory. Hermione is the one who knows the textbooks by heart. I'm more the type of learner who has to understand a topic. As soon as I get it, I'm usually able to do it, without learning a great deal about theory and how it works and all that. I'll see what I know. What do you think? Want to learn a bit about your magic?"
Harry nodded as he answered, even though he knew she couldn't see him.
"I'll gladly take up on that offer. I know how to do magic, but I don't know the limits. Never pushed the limits, never experimented. If you told me what you can do, I might be able to do it too."
"Good."
They both stayed silent for a few moments. Then, Ginny spoke again.
"It's kind of silly, I know, but guess what? I'm afraid to go home. I really want to see my family again, see them all alive and well, but what if they aren't alive and well? What if Tom and his Death Eaters found the headquarters? What if someone died on one of the missions? What if anyone of those who are spies get caught? I'm scared, and I don't like it."
He heard something that sounded like a fist hitting a wall.
"I feel so weak."
"Why, because you're scared?"
"Of course!"
"That's no weakness. It shows that you care, and caring is never a bad thing. It means that you're alive, that your soul is healthy, and that all the things you went through didn't do any permanent damage. You have every reason to be bitter, heartless or listless. You have every reason to stop. Stop living, stop caring, and stop being everything that makes us alive. But you carry on. Carry on through all the crap life puts you through. That, my dear Ginny, is pure strength. That is power. And I sincerely admire you for it."
It was quiet for a moment.
"Thank you."
Somehow those two words said everything that needed to be said, and somehow, their friendship grew a little bit closer with that conversation, in the middle of the night, in a cramped hotel-room, with the sounds of rain and thunder surrounding them.
Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it ^^ the next chapter is already more than halfway done, expect it relatively soon. I'd love to hear from you in the Reviews. ^^
Thanks to everybody who left a comment, and to everybody who followed of favourited the story :)
DanteVirgil09: Thank you for the nice review :) Well, I can't have my main characters suffer…yet. :D Well, you'll just have to wait and see… ^^
Aalens: Thank you so much for the two reviews, they've been very helpful. Also, thank you for the tip about 'anyway', I try to keep it British-English, but all those lists on American and British differences don't cover everything. So, thanks, you really helped, I hope you'll enjoy the future chapters, too :)
Aquafin: Thanks for the comment. ^^ Later than planned, but it's there, hope you like it :)
Kiliel Shipper: Sorry for having to keep you waiting, but I had to wait for Beta-readings, so not my fault ;) But I'm happy that you like the story ^^
Mishi Gohiku: Thank you very much, that question you've got, it'll be answered in the story, so no spoilers ;)
draco7347: looks like you don't need to wait long then :) Thank you for the nice comment ^^