"Looking at you through the glass

Don't know how much time has passed.

Oh God, it feels like forever, but no one ever tells you

That forever feels like home, sitting all alone

Inside you head..."

-Stoned Sour

Entering The Room

Harry got dressed quickly, his eyes still unfocused from the remnants of sleep, his mind still cluttered with everything that had happened last night, and his heart aching for just one minute with Ginny. However, and no matter what he had told his friends, he was not going to involve them in something dangerous, now more than ever.

"Ced, stay here, ok?"

She hooted.

"If ANYTHING happens to Ginny, you come find me, ok? I'll be at the Ministry probably."

She hooted again. Harry grabbed his cloak and wand, stowed them inside his robes and Apparated directly to the Ministry's main floor. Feeling as if he was doing something proactive and productive had driven him to act so quickly so early in the morning, but now that he was here, Harry realized he had never been to Kingsley's office.

After finding the first official looking employee and asking them for help, he was directed to the lift elevator when he heard a booming voice behind him.

"Harry."

Kingsley had come up right behind him. "Minister." Harry bowed his head a tad, but smiled while doing it.

"Come."

They walked together, garnering stares from almost every witch and wizard inside the massive building. After countless corridors and even more doors, they finally stopped at a door that looked all too familiar. "Wait. Why are we here?"

It was a black door at the end of a dark corridor. Harry's thoughts, as they had been since he awoke, were still at the Burrow, with Ginny. He didn't realize where he was standing. Kingsley, however, wasn't paying attention. He waved his hand in front of the door, and Harry heard a series of clicking noises coming from within the door. "We have had to heighten security since a group of students broke in here a couple years ago."

"But what are we doing here?"

"In time, Harry." That pronouncement sounded way too much like something Dumbledore would say, and needless to point out, that frightened Harry a bit. They were now standing in the circular room staring at almost a dozen doors, two of which still showed the faint markings of a red "X." (Harry had to remember to compliment Hermione's spell-casting when he saw her) The moment the door shut, the room spun, but Kingsley did not seem preoccupied. Instead, he walked directly to a door a little off center to the left.

"Wait. Kingsley, I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what we are doing."

The Minister breathed deeply and turned to face Harry. "There is a certain room which has remained locked for many years. Dumbledore and I have discussed this room many times in the past few months, and it would seem that you lost a knife to its lock once." He pointed to the handle, and Harry could see what looked like a burn mark that had healed around the keyhole. Suddenly, though he was sure the lighting had not changed, the room felt a bit darker, or at the very least, more foreboding.

"It's the Love Room, isn't it?"

"Very astute. You and Dumbledore discussed the matter, too?"

"Yes." Harry said, in a very melancholy tone. The room seemed to be echoing his own feelings in a strange, sick way. He quickly began to remember everything he had ever been told about love, but found that his mind once again strayed back to his fiancé, possibly lying in her bed still. Was she sleeping? If she was sleeping, was she dreaming? If she was dreaming, was she dreaming of him?

"Potter!" Kingsley raised his voice, but not quite to a yell. Harry paid attention again. "This room has remained locked not only for protection from others, but also through its own magic. The Department of Mysteries had always been scolded for not opening the room by wizards and witches higher up. They felt that the Unspeakables were merely hoarding a great power that the rest of the Ministry should have access to, and not guarding the terrible possibilities that would certainly come if the room were to be opened."

"Terrible possibilities?" Harry remembered what Dumbledore had said about Love.

"Yes, Harry. Can you not think of a love that caused horrible anguish?" Harry was quickly reminded of a couple fifth years who had broken up a couple weeks ago. Kingsley, just as Snape had always seemed to do, was reading his mind. "I do not speak of the trivial matters of infatuation, but actual love of something. Can you remember anything like that?"

His first thought was all the mistakes Dumbledore had made regarding his sister, the Resurrection Stone, and even Harry. However, he was reminded, peculiarly, of something Slughorn once said, and he spoke it aloud. "When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love."

"I'm impressed." Harry had momentarily forgotten he was there. He may have spoken out loud, but it was most definitely more for his own benefit than anyone else's. "Are there any particular instances?"

Harry didn't have to search his brain long. Being male, he obviously pictured a woman first. He pictured someone so desperately in love they were willing to manipulate another's life. He thought of Merope Gaunt. No matter how romantic or idealistic her motivations were, the bottom line was that she had magically controlled a human being to the point of marrying her and conceiving a child. The rest of the story was nothing short of 'terrible power.'

However, he next thought of another woman who must have been so in love, she was willing to do anything for another. He thought of Bellatrix Lestrange. She was not in love with Voldemort, and honestly, who could be? However, his presence and the seduction of the power he promised was more than enough to ensnare the mind of a gifted witch from the noble house of Black. Her stark contrast, to her sister in looks and her cousin in morality, was nothing compared to the deranged notion that Tom Riddle somehow loved her in return. That he would value her service to him above all others and reward her in kind was not a foreign concept, even Umbridge sought similar ends from Fudge. However, Harry finally saw what Slughorn had said that day.

Love, if tainted and impure, if dedicated yet dependent, and if complete yet corrupted, was only an obsession.

He had read once, in a Bible tale, that if a man does not love himself, he cannot love his wife. He saw that in Bellatrix. He saw that in Merope. He even saw it in Petunia. There were people who were so incomplete inside, that they couldn't even see what they had fallen in love with. The concept of the "better half" was exactly that. Two people, even two ideals, come together because they are, on their own, powerful and complete forces, but are brought together to form something that was destined, and meant, to be. When a person finds someone that makes them whole, it's not because they themselves are inadequate (or only half of what they could be), it is because they are exactly what they should be. The love that binds, that passes all understanding, simply fuses two whole beings into one amazing display of the most incredible, awesome force in the Universe.

Harry wished he had said these thoughts to Ginny. Humans get nervous, though, and he was not going to beat himself up about it. However, the point was made in his mind. He didn't obsess over Ginny Weasley. He loved her. He didn't need her, but he missed her. He was a man, whole and complete, by himself, but he was even better with her.

The ultimate display of obsessive love was, of course, Lord Voldemort's love of power. He even told Harry that there was no such thing as 'good and evil, only power.' But that was the problem. Power, by itself, does not make anyone better. Power corrupts, it distorts, and ultimately it cripples. Dictators always fall eventually. Tom Riddle fell in love with something that couldn't make him better, only worse. He obsessed over something that would, in time, be his downfall.

Harry felt old. He was not smiling.

However, the room seemed to be lightening a bit, and he felt his mood slowly increase with it. Finally, he turned to Kingsley and spoke. "I can think of a few." He laughed inside.

"Quite. Well, as I said, the room guards itself as well."

"It keeps people out?"

"Precisely. However, last night, an Unspeakable, who for all intents and purposes does not exist, woke me to tell me that the sensory spell he has on this door went off."

"Ok." Harry didn't think he wanted to hear what came next.

"That is the first time it has happened in a thousand years."

He was expecting something like that, but something didn't compute. "A thousand years? How long has there been a Ministry?"

"Since then. The Ministry was built around this room."

Silence fell like it only could in those circumstances where one could feel the world fall out from beneath them. "And now it's open?"

"Not yet. There are enchantments to break."

"And you've already done that, right?" Harry was now officially worried.

"Not yet. I thought I would seek help first."

"And you've gotten help, right?" The door began to vibrate and change color.

"Not yet. He hasn't agreed to help me."

"And he's joining us soon, right?" It now looked a deep shade of purple.

"Not quite. He is already in this room."

"And he is going to show himself?" A few clicks sounded from the lock.

"Not quite. He's you."

"You want me to help you break into a room that only opened itself last night, hasn't been open for a thousand years, and holds the most powerful in the world? Did I get that right?" Harry stared at the door as it slowly creaked open.

"Not quite. We don't know what the enchantments are."

"What do you mean?" The door vanished in a wisp of smoke to be replaced by silver glass.

"Godric and Salazar could never agree on what to write down…"

He missed Ginny.