Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; not the plot, not the setting, not the characters. I'm just making a few changes. You should be able to recognize them. =D
A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for still reading! But, really people, where are the reviews? Right now the chapters almost outnumber them. I know there are way more than eleven of you reading, so if like this story enough to make it to chapter twelve you should like it enough to share your opinion. Please review!!!
Chapter 12
Ginny's head snapped up and she forced her eyes open. She was in the Great Hall amidst hundreds of other students talking and laughing, yet somehow she had managed to fall asleep. Shaking herself free of her drowsiness (at least somewhat) she piled her plate high and began eating, hoping that it would fight off her fatigue. The noise of the others around her seemed mashed together into one ever-changing sound rather than the individual voices; the hum was hypnotic and Ginny wondered if it hadn't been the thing that put her to sleep. She'd just returned from Quidditch practice and her hair was still wet from the showers. Her Weasley sweater felt too thin and she shivered even though the packed room was toasty warm. This only added to her exhaustion; her limbs were already heavy and numb with it and being cold made her feel sluggish and unwilling to move. Lifting the fork was an almost unmanageable task.
With a sigh, she dropped her arm on the table and raised her hand enough for her to rest her head in it. Across from her was the Ravenclaw table and absently she stared at a group of boys who she thought might be in her year. She almost recognized some of them, but she'd been so preoccupied this year that she hardly remembered anyone that was her age. One of the boys, dark haired and quiet-looking, was watching her watch him and—had she been aware enough to care—Ginny might have been embarrassed. But the boy didn't seem the least bit disturbed by her gaze, and he even managed to smile at her. She smiled back slightly, though she wasn't sure why. She quickly dropped her gaze because someone much closer had caught her attention.
Harry slid into the seat in front of her, blocking her view of the boy. He had a determined look on his face that told her she didn't want to hear what he was about to say. She immediately began to pack her things to go.
"At least hear me out," Harry said defensively, watching her gather her Quidditch and book bags. "I come in peace."
She stopped long enough to give him a funny look and he cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Look, I just want to talk."
Replacing a book that had fallen from her pack, Ginny sighed and said, "I'm doing just fine. You don't need to keep checking up on me."
"I'm not trying to check up on you," he insisted. "I've come to make an offer."
Shocked that he was daring to bring this up again, she turned to face him. It took a lot of will power not to give him a very dirty look. "I believe I already turned it down," she said quietly.
"It's not that kind of offer," he assured her.
She pursed her lips. "Then what kind of offer is it?"
He leaned forward, lowering his voice a little and Ginny found herself leaning in as well so that she could hear him better. "Ron, Hermione, and I are going to Hogsmead together this weekend and we'd like you to come."
She was slightly taken aback. A quick look down the table told her that Ron and Hermione were indeed looking over at them, though they seemed more confused than expectant and that made Ginny a little doubtful. "And you're the messenger of this request?" she asked, still watching her brother's expression.
"Actually," Harry said slowly, "it was my idea. You need a break—a real, actually relaxing break—and I figured since we're going you should just join us."
"So you made an executive decision?" She was looking at him again, now a little bit interested.
Frowning somewhat at her last comment, Harry shrugged. "I guess. Look—" he glanced over at Hermione and Ron and then immediately turned back to her "I want you along. You may say you're doing okay but I know what it's like. You need to enjoy yourself a little bit or you're going to work yourself crazy. I'm not blind, Ginny."
She stared fixedly at her plate, feeling his eyes on her and hating that she was so see through. Obviously she was having trouble but she'd hoped that she was hiding that at least a little. According to Harry, everyone could tell quite easily that Ginny was losing her grip.
"Harry," she started cautiously, "I really don't want to deal with this right now."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded. Clearly he wasn't going to let her get out of this.
"It means I don't want to spend an entire day being watched by Hermione and my brother," she sighed. "It's bad enough that you keep trying to confront me about this, they'll be even worse. I've been avoiding them for months because they were so upset about this earlier."
"That's not the way to handle this," he said.
"You're one to talk," she pointed out. "At the beginning of the year you were no better off than me. And at Christmas—"
"Well it's not the beginning of the year anymore, Ginny, and I'm not hiding from them now," he cut her off defensively. He shook his head but when he spoke again his tone was wore gentle. "Trust me, I know. It's just not the way to do things. Avoiding them now will make things worse in the end."
She wanted to tell him to mind his own business. She hated the fact that he was giving her advice about how to handle things when she knew he was having problems of his own. But still, he was right. And that made it even worse.
"I want you to come," he repeated. "Please, Ginny."
She looked up at him and sighed. His green eyes were pleading and she felt like kicking herself. "Fine. I'll go."
His face broke into a grin. "Excellent," he said firmly. "It won't be that bad, I promise."
She hated herself for being so easily dissuaded. She knew, and hoped against hope that he did not, that it was because of what he'd said there at the end. "I want you to come." Hadn't she, for the last four years of her life, wished that Harry Potter would want her to be around? But now that he was saying it she hated that she was weak enough to give into it. All he had to do was show her those bright, innocent eyes and she gave in. Instead of answering, she picked up her bags and began to leave. She had a lot of homework to do and highly doubted she'd be able to stay awake through all of it. Not to mention she was eager to get out of there. But Harry wasn't done. He stood as well and followed her out of the Great Hall.
"One last thing," he said quickly, sounding guilty. "Just promise you'll hear me through."
Rolling her eyes she said, "I promise. What is it?"
He stopped and she did too, despite her desire to get away from him and everyone else. Once again, she knew it was because of his power over her, a power that she really wished would disappear. It was really was embarrassing in too many ways.
Harry took a deep breath before he continued. "I think I might know a way to make the dreams stop."
Now she was mad. She spun on her heel and marched off, fuming inside. He's promised he wasn't going to bring that up again!
"Ginny! Ginny—wait!"
He wasn't going to stop her now. She was determined to get away from him, for his safety as much as for her own comfort. Even with everything that had been going on recently she hadn't forgotten how to perform a powerful Bat-Boogey hex.
"Ginny, stop!"
She was already up to the third floor. He was gaining on her though, so she quickened her pace. But not soon enough. Before they reached the fourth landing, Harry managed to race passed her and block her path. For a moment she considered going for her wand, but he cut off her train of thought.
"Ginny, you promised!" he pleaded. His hands were on her shoulders, stopping her from turning to run away or from pushing past him. She struggled to break free of his grip but he held firm and finally she looked up at him, their eyes locking. His were dark, a little bit angry, but more intense than anything else. Her own she knew held a mixture of frustration, fear, and embarrassment. "Please just listen for a minute."
"No, Harry," she said softly. "I already said no to this."
"You promised you'd listen if I found a way, remember?" he insisted. "You said you'd consider it."
She sighed heavily and looked down. "Fine."
He slackened his grip slightly, but did not let go. "It's called Occlumency," he started. "It's basically blocking your mind so that nobody else can get into it."
"How does that help me?" she demanded, confused. Hadn't they already ruled out being possessed? Or was that what he was suggesting? Her heart sped up a little at the thought.
Harry wet his lips before continuing. "Dumbledore thinks there's a connection between my mind and Voldemort's. That's why I've been seeing all these things and having all these dreams. It's a link that was formed between us when he attacked me as a baby. So I can see into his mind and…"
"He can see into yours?" Ginny finished it as a panicked question.
"Hopefully not," Harry said as casually as possible. "But it is possible, now that he's become aware of the connection. So I have to learn to use Occlumency so he can't get into my mind."
There was a pause as he let the words sink in. Taking a deep breath, Ginny said, "I still don't understand how this would help me though."
Harry shifted his weight slightly from his right foot to his left and then back again. "Actually, I'm not sure it will. But," he added before she could say anything, "I think that it can. There might be a connection between you and Voldemort as well—"
"How?" she sighed. "And why?"
"When you found Tom Riddle's Diary, I think you may have formed a connection then, after he started to…" he trailed off, looking nervous, as though unsure if he'd offended her. "I mean," he continued in a rush, "I think that a link formed between you two then and now you're going through the same thing I am. And if that's true, then Occlumency would help you too."
She was silent for a moment. The idea was perfectly logical. Frightening, but possible—and at least it was better than being possessed, again. For some reason she was now very aware of Harry's hands on her shoulders and she squirmed slightly under their weight. He did not remove them.
"Did you come up with this idea," her voice was barely more than a whisper, "or did Dumbledore?"
"I haven't told anyone about you, Ginny," he assured her, answering her unasked question.
Had she really been holding her breath?
"So how would I learn Occlumency?" she said after taking a few slow swallows of air.
Now he looked uncomfortable. "You'd have to tell Dumbledore," he admitted. "And you'd have lessons with me…and Snape."
"Snape?" she repeated, pulling out from his relaxed grasp.
"Snape's been teaching me," he said by way of an answer.
She stared at him incredulously. Did he really expect her to tell Snape what was happening to her? Snape?
"I don't think I can do that, Harry," she mumbled, wishing she were braver.
"You wouldn't be alone," he promised her. "You'd be with me." Did he know that was her weakness, or had his exploitation of her been accidental? "It wouldn't be too bad." She could tell he was trying hard to leave out details about how awful it had already been. It would be too bad; too bad to handle, or even attempt.
"Harry…"
"It'll help," he insisted. "It can help a lot."
"Has it helped you any?" she demanded, already knowing the answer by watching his reaction. He said nothing for a long moment, but she watched him steadily so that he knew he could not ignore the question.
"Not much, no," he confessed. "But I've only had a few lessons…"
Once again his words trailed off into silence. They looked at each other and both knew what was going to happen next. Ginny couldn't say yes to this. No one must know. It might have been a good idea, even the best idea. But Tom Riddle's Diary had made Ginny cautious and secretive, and she wasn't about to tell anybody about this unless there was no other way. There had to be another way.
"I can't, Harry," she said finally. She shrugged her shoulders once in apology. She had nothing else to offer.
Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and stepped to the side, allowing her to pass by him. It was his way of giving up on her and Ginny felt her heart sink. She wished she could change her mind, but she also knew that was not what she wanted. Feeling like a horrible person, she climbed past him, clutching her book bag to her chest. She rounded a corner and Harry passed out of sight. Every step carried her father away and with every stair she considered turning around again.
"Ginny!"
She froze. Footsteps were approaching from behind. He called out to her again and this time she responded.
"Yes?" She said it so softly she wondered if he even heard her.
He came around the corner then and stood about six steps below her, his eyes obscured by the torchlight reflecting off his glasses.
"Would you do it if I taught you?" he asked, lifting a hand to rest his fist against the wall. "No one else would have to know."
She turned so that she was facing him fully and contemplated him for a moment. His fist opened and closed as he waited and she focused on it when she answered.
"Yes. I think I would."
He smiled slightly. "Okay. You sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Then…whenever you're free…"
"Sundays," she said absently. "I have Quidditch most other nights…"
"Great," he responded enthusiastically. "It'll help, Ginny, I promise."
She nodded, and didn't say anything. He removed his fist from the wall, but she continued to stare at the place where it had been.
"See you at Hogsmead then," he said by way of a farewell, then turned to walk back down the stairs.
"Harry," she called after him.
"Yeah?" he said, not bothering to turn around.
"Thanks."
