Still Ginny (Wednesday night)
Ginny first becomes aware of the pain. It's on every part of her torso. Her stomach, her sides, her back! Even her breasts hurt!
"Ugh."
Ginny tries to curl up into a ball but stills when she realizes she can't move.
"Oh good, your awake."
Ginny's head and back are killing her. Her arms strain against her invisible restraints as she feels her skin stretch and pull. The sped-up process of deep open wounds closing is not one you want to endure while awake. Lucky her.
"Only a few more minutes, and everything should be closed up nicely. You won't even have any scars. Physical ones anyways.
"Uh, uhhhh, hmmmmm, stop, please stop," Ginny pants, closing her eyes even tighter. She aches to pull her shoulderblades or flex her muscles in any sort of way. She needs to relieve the pain.
"I'll go get Minerva, she's been waiting for you to wake up."
Ginny's only response is another groan. Her blood flow is frozen where her wounds are, making her neck and back tingle with the lack of blood. Her skin prickles, and burns. Ginny is overwhelmed by the simultaneous sensations. She lays there in endless torture. When Minerva's worried expression enters Ginny's peripheral vision, Ginny wants to cry. It had only been twenty seconds since Madam Pomfrey left and returned with Minerva.
Minerva's eyes wander over her whole body and linger on her neck. Ginny wishes she could straighten her body, but she's stuck on her side, facing the doors.
"I don't know whether to scold you or-,"
"GINNY! Thank Merlin, you're alive!" Hermione says, rushing toward them.
At her side is Ron; he's red in the face, breathing hard, and has red marks on his hands like he'd had them pressed into something for too long.
"What the bloody hell were you thinking! You can't just fight nine Death Eaters by yourself! DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH!"
There were ten Death Eaters.
"Mr. Weasly, Miss. Granger, how did you two get in here?"
"I held the door open, as you tried sealing the doors shut, and we slipped in," Ron says matter of factly.
That explains the red marks on his hands.
"You can both sit there and watch," Minerva points to the bed adjacent to hers, "I need to have a discussion with her while Madam Pomfrey continues to heal her. If I hear a single word from either of you, I will silence you and throw you out of the school. Am I clear?"
They both nod.
"Now, why did you go after the Death Eaters?"
Ginny would be staring with wide eyes if she could widen them.
"Can I please have control of my body again?" Ginny asks, trying to see Madam Pomfrey.
Minerva looks up and raises her eyebrows. Pomfrey must be behind her.
"Fine, but your skin just finished sealing, so if you move too suddenly, it will tear. Do not stretch your shoulders, do you understand me?"
Ginny tries to nod her head but remembers she can't when her body doesn't respond.
"Fine."
Ginny can feel her visible restraints leave, and it feels like she can finally feel the cool air on her skin.
"Can I sit back and rest against the pillows?"
"Yes, let me help you."
Ginny pushes up on her arm and feels Madam Pomfrey take her other arm. She scoots up and twists so her back is to the pillows.
"Okay, now that you're more comfortable, why were you,-"
Minerva is interrupted again with the doors being flung open by Harry.
Hell no.
Harry runs to her bed, and Ginny waits, unsure of Harry's response to her position in the hospital wing. Minerva is fuming at his side, glaring at Harry like a Slytherin who dares proclaim themselves a quidditch champion.
"Ginny! Shit, are you okay? You look like hell! Thank Columbus, you're alright! I woke up all disorientated and saw your phoenix by my bed! I went straight outside after I heard your message, but the only thing out there was a dismembered body and gallons of blood! It was everywhere, and I was so scared! There are knights made of stone lining the Great Hall! Their swords had blood on them, and nobody knew what was going on when I asked them, and when I tried to get into the hospital, it was sealed shut!"
Harry's worried rambling stops, and his face becomes angry.
"What the hell were you thinking? You can't just jump into battle! Nobody knows anything, which means you did everything by yourself! And, Oh God, Ginny, there's blood all over your sheets!"
Harry's hand comes to caress her cheek, and Ginny won't admit it, but his warm hand is comforting.
Harry
Harry caresses her cheek and exhales with relief. She's alive.
When Harry woke up from his nap, he'd been disorientated by his surroundings. He isn't used to being at Hogwarts yet. When he finally got his bearings, he realized that there was a phoenix Patronus waiting at the side of his bed, waiting for him to acknowledge it. When he'd given the phoenix his full attention, Ginny's voice had started rapidly explaining her need for backup.
Three words into her explanation, Harry jumped out of his bed and started running. Had he left her to fight alone because he'd been asleep? What if she had gotten injured and he didn't stick around to hear where she was? What if he'd slept through the battle, and she had died?
That line of thinking was coursing through his mind as he sprinted down hallways, down staircases, and through the Grand Doors. He'd skidded to a stop at the bottom of the school's staircase and almost threw up his breakfast.
There's smoke and broken pieces of rock everywhere. The once perfectly cut green grass has pieces of it torn up and tossed aside. Divets are everywhere. Not to mention the fact that the grass has blood smeared all over the place.
Harry didn't let himself stand still any longer. He raced to the blood smears hoping to find a trace of where Ginny might be. The blood smears were facing the school, so someone was dragged. Hopefully, it wasn't a dead Ginny. Harry goes in the opposite direction of the smear and carefully scans the lawn's great expanse, trying to find any other clues.
Harry paused when he saw what looked like colorful rocks lying in the grass.
Not rocks. They weren't white, black, and red rocks. They were scattered remains. Harry almost lost it right then. He covered his nose and blinked away the stinging in his eyes.
Harry could only assume that a half-assed attempt at a clean-up was made, and someone missed this. Harry tore his eyes away and glanced one last time at the battle-torn land. She wasn't out there, which means someone from inside the castle would know. He should check the infirmary first.
Harry turned with swiftness and ran back to the castle. His legs pulled in a way that told him he needed to stretch out after he found Ginny.
When Harry reaches the castle, his eyes fall on two stone statues. Both of them are knights and hold bloodied swords. His mind reels at the sight of them. He knew there were stone knights that sat on the castle walls inside a small courtyard. Did someone enchant them to aid them in battle?
Harry shakes his head and continues inside the castle, only to see more knights lining the outer walls. How did her miss them on his way out? They stand over nine feet tall and have blood all over their swords!
The main thought that coursed through Harry's head as he made his way to the infirmary was, did Ginny do all of that?
When he finally reached the infirmary, he was out of breath and out of his mind with worry. It's late at night, the students have all but disappeared, there isn't a teacher in sight, and there is absolute carnage outside the castle walls.
Harry tried opening the doors but found them warded so that physical force would not be able to open them once shut. Harry is so upset that he forgets to minimize the power while drawing up his wards, and the doors fly open dramatically in a way that would make Prince jealous.
His eyes are instantly on Ginny, and he can't even remember what he said, but it was with righteous anger and worry; all he knows is that Ginny is safe and freezing!
"Why don't you have a blanket on? You're ice cold," Harry says, conjuring a warm quilt, and then carefully laying it over her.
"Actually, don't answer that. Answer this, what happened?" Harry asks softly, letting his hand slide forward into her hair, taking the escaped strands with it.
"Mr. Potter, as I just finished telling these two," Harry turns and sees Ron and Hermione on the opposite bed, "I will have you thrown out if you can't keep quiet."
"I just want to understand why Ginny is hurt and how everything happened. Are you not trying to do the same thing?" Harry asks. He straightens his posture and tries to look like he knows what he's doing and should be in charge of finding out what happened.
"Harry, if I wasn't completely exhausted, I would be yelling at you so loudly right now," Ginny says, tiredly. Harry turns back to her, confused.
"What?" Harry asks.
"You don't have any right to be here. You can't just knock doors off their hinges and then come in demanding answers from me," Harry watches Ginny's cheeks go red, and not in the way he'd want them to.
"I'm just worried about you!" Harry defends.
"You don't have any right to be! I barely know you!" Ginny exclaims.
Harry ignores Madam Pomfrey's bristling and Minerva's glare and sits on the bed, so he can be more at Ginny's level.
"As soon as I laid eyes on you, I felt a connection. You can't tell me you don't feel it, because I can see it in your eyes; you feel it too. It's a connection I've never felt before, but I've been regularly told that my parents had a connection like the one I'm feeling. It's all I've ever wanted for myself, and here you are, someone I felt connected to as soon as I saw you. Why are you denying it?"
"I don't have time for connections," Ginny says, looking over Harry's shoulder.
"If you don't want to acknowledge the connection, fine, but don't push me away. Remember, you sent your Patronus to me," Harry says.
"AS A LAST RESORT! I SENT MY PATRONUS TO ALBUS AND MINERVA, AND I EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT SENDING ONE TO YOUR GODFATHER BEFORE I EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT SENDING ONE TO YOU!" Ginny yells. She sits up suddenly and grimaces, her teeth grinding together.
Harry panics and grabs onto Ginny's shoulders, hoping to steady her. Instead of helping, he hears Ginny growl behind clenched teeth and pulls away from him.
"Ginny? What's wrong? What hurts?" Harry asks, eyes scanning over her, looking for an injury.
"That is enough," Minerva interrupts. She points her wand at Harry and mutters, Silencio. Harry tries to question her intentions, but he's literally speechless.
Harry has to suppress his urge to flip Minerva the bird. It's a bad habit that he'd picked up from Sirius, and Harry is positive nobody at Hogwarts likes him enough to laugh the gesture off. The thought makes him sad. He'd go around flipping off, all his friends back home, and they'd all laugh and flip him off right back.
Harry debates removing the silencing charm as he stands from his position at Ginny's bed. He decides to leave it, hoping it will keep Minerva off his back, and hopefully, Ginny won't yell at him anymore.
He scans Ginny once more before he turns and can't help but feel like he needs to help her somehow. She was attacked and is in pain, and there isn't anything Harry can think to do. He wants to ask how he can help, but he knows they'll only suggest he leave.
Harry sits next to Ron and Hermione on the other bed and watches as Minerva starts interrogating Ginny. He half pays attention, latching on to the hitch in her breath when she mentions Fenrir. She's mostly stoic while she explains, but she winces whenever she shifts. Harry glances at Ron and Hermione, and they're both visibly upset. If Harry had to guess what they were each feeling, he'd say Hermione is worried and Ron is angry.
Harry rubs his right forearm, right over the scar Wormtail gave him, the night Voldemort was resurrected. It's a bad habit, but sometimes the skin still feels tight, like there wasn't enough skin to be stretched in the first place.
Tight.
Oh, hell yeah.
Harry jumps from his spot and races over to a cabinet.
"What do you think you're doing, Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asks.
Harry turns, points to his mouth, and then continues shuffling through the different vials, and small containers.
Double hockey sticks. Why is there no scabies ointment?
"Potter, you can't just go through the school's supplies," Madam Pomfrey says.
Harry waves his hand over his mouth and wordlessly counters the silencing charm.
"Where is your scabies-sana ointment?" Harry asks, turning to the matron.
"We're out. Snape was supposed to be making another batch, but he's been sidetracked with another project. Why do you want an anti-itching ointment?" She asks.
Harry turns to her to point out what Harry thinks is obvious-Ginny needs some relief-but when he turns and sees the matron looking at him, concerned.
"It's not for me, it's for Ginny."
Harry opens more drawers in the cabinets, looking for brewing supplies. In most magical hospitals, they keep them on hand for when they need refilling.
Harry finds a mortar and pestle along with a small cauldron. He grabs them and puts them on a small side table.
Harry returns to the cabinet and starts looking for the correct ingredients.
"Are you planning on making some?" Pomfrey asks.
Harry nods his head and grabs a small jar of mentholatum, adding it to his other arm, that's full of ingredients.
"What else do you need?"
Harry glances at his arm and then the table before asking, "Can you get me a burner and some eucalyptus?"
"Eucalyptus?"
Harry turns to the matron with raised eyebrows.
"Does Britain not use. . . Nevermind. The eucalyptus is to soothe the sore muscles in her skin and to make the ointment smell better."
Madam Pomfrey nods her head and then leaves. Harry glances at his arm once more, checking off the ingredients in his head, nodding with satisfaction.
Harry organizes his ingredients on the table in order from the first thing added to the last thing added. He glances back over at Ginny and takes in the scene.
Ginny and Hermione are laughing at something Ron said or did-if his red face is anything to go by. Harry watches Ginny as she interacts with her brother and his girlfriend. She seems to be at peace with them by her side. A look Harry wishes he could inspire.
"Here's that burner, and I'm going to need to head to the greenhouse for the eucalyptus. Do you need it right now, or can I check on Ginny first?"
Harry grabs the burner and gets some water boiling with a quick incendio. He then puts the burner on a low medium setting so it will take the boil down to a simmer.
Harry tunes out the sounds of conversation and focuses on the ointment. The process takes two hours if you want it to be longer-lasting, which Harry definitely does. Especially, since he's planning on giving all the leftover ointment to Ginny to use at her leisure.
Just the thought of the scabies-sana ointment causes Harry's scar to itch and feel like it's being pulled in the wrong direction. Harry remembers the first three weeks after being kidnapped as the most uncomfortable period of time in his life. He was always uncomfortable, his mental state was not great, and he'd doubled his summer training hours, making him exhausted.
He'd put in the time, he'd exploited all of his talents, and charm to get where he is, and he's still at the bottom. He's getting tossed around by a girl, he's getting silenced by teachers, and he's going to classes for sixth years! He considers himself a decent guy, someone who was knocked around when he was younger because he was small. The new kid, with no friends, and glasses. He's been at every point on the social spectrum, and he's tired of trying.
He can't climb the spectrum and get knocked down another time. He can't make Ginny fall in love with him, so he'll leave her alone. He can't earn the respect of his teachers and still be the hero he needs to be, so he'll stop trying so hard. He can't be a public figure of hope, so he'll reside in the shadows. He can't forget about these things, no, he can't forget to live, but he doesn't need to try so hard all the time. He needs to set off on his own and get the work done. That way, he won't have to keep climbing the ladder at everyone else's pace.
"Mr. Potter."
Harry glances up, snapping out of his thoughts. Minerva stands to the side of him and purses her lips.
"It's Harry or Lord Potter; take your pick," Harry says.
"Look, it was not right of me to silence a student. I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted, Professor McGonagall. If you'll excuse me, I can't forget about this," Harry says, gesturing to the simmering concoction.
"You may continue your work, but if I might have permission to continue speaking?"
"You don't need my permission."
"I'm asking for it anyway, Lord Potter," Minerva says softly.
Harry barely holds back his cringe at his title. He'd always hated the title, he hated any title, really. He'd prefer to be called Harry, but he will leave his relationship with his professors up to them. To Minerva, he is a student and someone she will fight behind.
"Permission granted."
Harry conjures a wooden spoon and slowly scrapes the bottom of the cauldron, so nothing sticks to the bottom, and the consistency will be the same.
"Ginny is more than just another student to most of us Professors, she is, she was-," Minerva breaks off, seemingly stuck on her own words.
"She's someone you want to watch. She has a fire that demands your attention. She's smart, confident, and beautiful," Harry says softly.
"She's all those things and more. You would have been pining after her the second you laid eyes on her, Harry. She was all of those things and charming. She wanted to be friends with everyone. She was friends with seventh-year quidditch players and first-year recluses.
"So imagine my surprise when her Patronus quite literally materializes in front of me, asking me to gather back up to fight off Death Eaters that are attacking Hogwarts! If there's a student that needs more protection and less protection than anyone else in Hogwarts, it's Ginny. She's been cornered and hurt many times. She doesn't deserve to feel any more pain. She-,"
"Stop."
Harry keeps his eyes on the cauldron, not having the courage to look her in the eye.
"Sorry?"
"Nobody deserves to feel the pain Death Eaters like to inflict-,"
"Of course not, but-,"
"No buts. I might not like it, but I can recognize the decision to fight. You were telling Ginny how the Death Eaters must have been working on the wards all day to add suggestive enhancements in the wards to get people to stay inside, how they set wards to block Patronus's to be sent. Ginny made an unwise, split decision to fight the Death Eaters. Any pain inflicted was her fault.
"She ran into that fight, she relied on a spell she learned yesterday, she took a risk that she thought was necessary to save others," Harry takes a deep calming breath, "Do I wish with every fiber of my body that she didn't get hurt? Yes. Do I wish I was there to help her? Yes. Do I think anyone is more deserving of safety? No. Not when we're at war."
"Do you wish me to point out the flaws in your argument?" Minerva asks.
"If the apparent flaws you want to point out involve the safety of mothers and children, then I will explain myself further."
"They are flaws."
"They are not. Everyone deserves equal safety; if people want to make sure some people stay safe, then make sure they stay safe. That doesn't make them more deserving."
"I see."
Harry hums in acknowledgment but makes no further noise. He works on the ointment steadfastly.
"Your potion skills are advanced," Minerva says.
"If everything I do isn't advanced, then I'll be killed, so yes, my potion skills are advanced," Harry says, hoping to end the conversation.
"Is there a time during this process where you don't need to have eyes on it at all times?" Minerva asks.
Harry sighs and nods his head.
"When will that be?"
"Right about now. I need to be close by, though," Harry adds.
"We can talk here then. Conjure yourself a chair," Minerva says. Harry watches Minerva conjure a wooden chair with a small cushion and a straight-as-a-board back. Harry conjures the same chair but adds a cushion to the back of his.
"Perfect. Five points to Gryffindor for your excellent transfiguration."
Harry clenches his jaw. It shouldn't be allowed to give him points.
"As your head of house, I'm supposed to find out your career goals and help you figure out what classes to take to help you achieve those goals. Seeing as you won't need to be taking any specific classes, I'll act as more of an advisor."
"So, basically, you want to know what I want to do after I graduate?"
"No, Harry, you may be a Lord, you may have the skills, and the talents to be whatever you want to be out of Hogwarts, but from what I've been hearing from you, I'm asking you, what do you want to do after you defeat Voldemort?"
Harry huffs in surprise. He had not been expecting that.
"Will you say that once more, please?" He asks.
There are two things he needs to confirm. Did she say his first name on purpose, and did she say, after he defeats Voldemort?
"Harry, what do you want to do after you defeat Voldemort?"
Harry laughs.
Finally.
"Did I say something funny?"
"No, Columbus, no! I'm just happy you have that kind of faith in me. Also, I'm happy you realize that I'm a bit different than other students. I won't get a chance at a career or life until I defeat Voldemort. It's refreshing," Harry reassures.
He sighs. What does he want to do?
"I'll admit to you that I have zero career goals after that fool is dead."
Minerva's lips twist in a way that makes Harry laugh again. He forgets people in Britain have a hard time calling Tom Riddle anything but He Who Must Not Be Named.
"Well, under the circumstances, I don't think you need to have anything planned right away. Are there things you do know you want to do after that, fool, as you call him, is dead?" Minerva asks, her nose wrinkling at the word fool.
Harry hides a laugh behind his head and shakes his head. Maybe he can have a professional friendship with Minerva. They now have an inside joke, after all.
"Most people want to travel, a lot of people want to have a weekend with friends, and I'd say everyone wants a break from their responsibilities," Harry furrows his eyebrows. He doesn't have a very good answer to her question. He doesn't have an answer, period.
"I've traveled, I don't have very many friends, and once that fool is dead, I won't have many responsibilities. So, I guess I don't know what I want."
Harry stands and stirs the cauldron before going back to his seat.
"Well, making friends will be a bit more difficult after you leave school, so I'd try and make that one of your priorities. You can add it to your list and put it just under, killing that fool," Minerva actually cracks a smile, and Harry laughs again. Harry can't think of very many things that make him smile every single time they happen, but hearing Minerva say fool, will never get old.
"I guess I'm just not having a very optimistic day." harry admits, thinking back to his earlier track of mind.
"Harry, I'm proud of the boy you've become," Minerva says softly. Harry looks at her questioningly.
"I was your parents' favorite professor, and I was soft on them," Minerva muses softly, her eyes misty.
"They invited me to the house for your first birthday, which I happily attended. You were just a wee thing, but you were full of energy and excitement. Watching you these past few days has been, well, it's like having Lily and the marauders back at Hogwarts. I'm afraid you came a year too late to meet the Weasley twins. I'm sure you guys would have been thick as thieves."
Harry tries to discreetly wipe his eyes. There are very few compliments that Harry will actually accept, and there are even fewer compliments he can receive that will make him choke up.
"I try to make them proud," Harry manages to say.
The water in Minerva's eyes spills over, and Harry can't help but cry with her. All he has of his parents is other people's memories, but he's watched them through pensive, talked to portraits, and seen photographs. He's grown up knowing he wanted to be just like his parents. Smart, fun, kind, loyal, and brave. To hear that he's doing an alright job of that means the world to Harry.
"Sorry, ahem. Is there anything else you can think of?" Minerva asks, regaining her composure.
"Is this a confidential conversation?" Harry asks, looking out of the corner of his eye. Ron and Hermione look like they're leaving, and Ginny is speaking with Madam Pomfrey.
Minerva waves her wand and forms a silencing ward.
"You can say anything."
"Growing up, after Remus died, Sirius became distant for a while," Harry pauses and tries to think of a good way to explain this.
"Sirius blames himself for his death, and he blames himself for my parents' deaths too. At the time, it was just too much for him. I did my best to be there for him. I even thought he'd be better off without me, and decided to run away," Harry chuckles without humor as Minerva's eyes widen.
"When Sirius found me, we had a long talk about things, and something he said to me has stuck with me. He said, Harry, life is too short to live without love, so when someone makes you feel a burning in your chest, you go after them, you understand me? I didn't understand the double meaning at the time. I think I was too young. But I think Sirius and Remus were soulmates. I don't know if it was in the romantic sense, but they were soulmates, at least as best friends. He had found love in his best friend and lost him, again.
"So, there's this girl, and she has my heart tripping and my mind stuttering, and if I'm ever lucky enough to love her the way I want to. I'd spend my time after the war, doing the things she wants to. Because I think, making her happy, will make me happy," Harry says.
Harry looks back at Ginny and watches her talk. She's not doing anything super spectacular or out of the ordinary, and yet she makes my heart thrum just by being in the same room as her.
"Don't give up on her, Harry. I can tell she feels a connection too. She hasn't talked to anyone since coming here, except for Hermoine and Ron. She would hex you and ignore you if she didn't feel anything. I'm afraid that's my only advice," Minerva says, slapping her palms onto her thighs softly.
"Actually, I have one last question," Harry says, standing up and vanishing his chair.
Minerva vanishes her own chair and nods at him to proceed.
"How do you conjure up really fresh flowers? Whenever I do it, they always look like they're a day away from wilting," Harry conjures a poppy to show his point.
"But you did a great job with the Hawaiian flowers in that Haku you made!" Minerva exclaims, looking at his poorly conjured poppy.
"I'm afraid those and baby's breath are the only flowers I can make last like that."
"Well, when you make the Haku's, you conjure up flowers that need to last. So, instead of trying to conjure up a premature flower, conjure a flower that has a natural preserver on it," Minerva suggests, demonstrating with a poppy of her own.
Harry nods his head and tries again.
Failure.
"Not a flower that needs preservatives, a flower that you want to preserve. Try again," Minerva instructs.
Harry tries again, and this time the flower actually looks fresh!
"Thanks!" Harry exclaims.
"I guess I do have one last piece of advice."
Harry raises his eyebrows. He'll take any help he can get.
"She likes lilies."
Harry laughs and nods his head. She's the second person that day to tell him that. Maybe a simple lily will solve all of his problems.
"You already knew that, didn't you?" Minerva asks with a small laugh.
Harry nods his head.
"Well then, I guess," Minerva looks over at Ginny and then back to Harry.
"Don't try and talk to her tonight, at least not a real conversation. Say goodnight, and maybe add a note to that little gift you're planning on giving her."
Harry nods in understanding and watches her lift the silencing wards.
"I will see you tomorrow, Harry."
"Thanks, and goodnight, Minerva," Harry says with a smile.
"And death to the fool," he adds when she turns.
Minerva snorts but continues on her way. Harry watches her say goodnight to Ginny before he turns and makes his way to the cauldron.
An hour and a half of silence and potion-making. Yippee.
The differences between Ivermorny and Hogwarts seem to become more and more. Harry hated potions but loved his teacher. Or professor, as the Brits would call them. His professor back at Ivermorny had music playing at all times. The wireless was always on, playing both muggle and magical music. Professor Tanner would tell them that potions always needed a little something to keep people interested while you're stuck stirring.
Professor Tanner would sing and dance and basically entertain the whole class while they worked. The contrast between professor Tanner and professor Snape is so vivid you'd think God purposefully made them opposites.
"Harry?"
Harry turns his head to the side and smiles at Madam Pomfrey. He needs to make it up to everyone he was short with earlier.
"Yes?"
"I got that eucalyptus for you," she says, placing the leaves on the table.
"Thank you so much. Sorry for making you go fetch some. I sometimes forget that things are different here in Britain," Harry says, picking up the leaves and placing them at the end of the line of ingredients.
"It's been a long day, I'm going to turn in for the night. I'm trusting you to clean up your mess and make sure the door is shut after you leave," she says, pointing to the doors. Harry nods his head.
"Should I lock it?" He asks, glancing at Ginny, whose leaning back against the headboard, resting her eyes, clearly not sleeping if her twiddling thumbs are anything to go by.
"I'll leave that up to you to decide. I think the Death Eaters will be busy fixing themselves up from the beating Ginny gave them," Madam Pomfrey says, a hint of a smile on her face.
"There are more of them. Have a good night, Madam Pomfrey. I hope you sleep well," Harry says, returning his attention to the cauldron, stirring clockwise.
"You can call me Poppy, Harry. Thank you for caring about Ginny. She can always use someone else to look after her. Seven brothers aside," Poppy says.
"You don't need to thank me for anything. Goodnight, Poppy."
Harry returns to stirring the cauldron, but his thoughts stray to Minerva.
She's a bit of an enigma in Harry's mind. She's a stern professor. Someone you can rely on to be fair, or at least mostly fair. How much did the marauders get away with because she was sweet on them? If she cared so much about GInny, and that was her reason for silencing him, then what was Harry doing that caused her to do it?
He'd been arguing with Ginny, which was not his intention. She'd sat up, and then she was in pain. It wasn't until after he'd grabbed Ginny that Minerva had silenced him.
But why would she wait till he grabbed Ginny? He made sure to keep his hands from gripping her shoulders. He wouldn't even call it grabbing, he placed his hands on her shoulders. He might just need to have another talk with Minerva.
While Harry waits for the scabies-sana ointment to finish, he grabs one of the medical books from a shelf and reads.
The book is full of pain relief spells, potions, salves, and a few cures for minor sicknesses. Harry finds an interesting pain relief spell that causes a cool burning to occur to help with strained muscles. Harry repeats it in his mind so he can memorize it, and hopefully, he'll remember it if he ever needs it.
Finally, the consistency of the ointment is where it should be, so Harry takes it off the burner and casts a cooling charm on it. Harry turns the burner off and then takes a teaspoon of the mentholatum and adds it to the ointment, and stirs it in. After the mentholatum is all mixed in, Harry crushes up the eucalyptus leaves, adding small amounts of water to them, until he gets the paste to a consistency he likes. Harry then conjures a strainer and a silky paper and strains the paste until he has a very watered-down eucalyptus oil.
Harry adds the oil to the ointment and stirs it in. To test the ointments, Harry puts two fingers in it and scoops some out, placing it on the scar, that lines the inside of his forearm.
His forearm tingles with a cooling effect, and then it's like the tightness magically disappears. Harry smiles at his accomplishment before summoning a small round container to put the ointment in. Harry grabs the container, fills it, closes it, and then grabs a small piece of parchment.
Ginny, I made you an ointment called scabies-sana. I know it doesn't sound very nice, but I've found it helps when you've just had your skin stretched and pulled to close wounds. It also helps with scars and minor itches. I apologize for putting you in pain earlier. I hope you know that it was never my intention, and never will be. I hope you heal quickly and painlessly. -Harry
Harry reads over his note and nods with satisfaction. He hopes this will put them on better ground, and they can find their way to a real friendship, and possibly even a relationship.
Harry conjures a lily, frowns at the wilted petals, vanishes it, conjures another, and then places it on top of the note and container.
Harry grabs his items and slowly walks up to Ginny's hospital bed. He can't tell if she's sleeping or not, but in case she is, Harry goes around to the other side and places everything on the nightstand closest to her bed.
"What is that?"
Harry startles and turns to Ginny, who is apparently wide awake.
"I, um, made you some ointment to help with the tightness in your healed skin. Oh, and it helps with the itching feeling, too," Harry thrusts his hands forward until his gift is right in front of Ginny's face.
"Oh. You didn't have to," Ginny says, looking uncomfortable.
Of course, she's uncomfortable, you dimwit! She was attacked! It's why you made her the ointment!
"I'm sorry, um, I thought you were asleep or ignoring me."
"I was; until you gave me the stuff I thought you were making for yourself."
Harry nods his head.
"But why didn't you just sleep then?"
"I can't sleep until everyone else around me is unconscious."
"Is that a blessing or a curse?" Harry asks, unsure of how to proceed. He should just leave, but the opportunity to talk to her hasn't come easily.
"A curse, I think. It's not as bad, back home, since I trust everyone there, but Hogwarts is filled with people I don't know," Ginny shrugs her shoulders, and winces.
An idea pops into Harry's head, and he can't help himself.
"May I?" Harry asks, gesturing to the container.
"What are you going to do with it?" Ginny asks, tightening her grip on the container.
"I'll rub it in for you," Harry says, reaching for the ointment.
Ginny narrows her eyes, and Harry raises his hands in a surrender gesture.
"You might not be able to reach everywhere that could use it," Harry reaches for the container and wraps a hand around it, "You can trust me," he adds.
Ginny lets go of the container, and Harry slowly pulls it toward him. Harry locks eyes with her, and a heat settles in his chest and slowly spreads. He can't tear his eyes away from hers. Her brown eyes might seem boring to everyone else, but to him, they're the color of firewood that's just waiting for a hot enough flame to ignite them.
The burning in his chest settles and simmers to a comfortable feeling that Harry wishes he could keep forever. But, it's late, and if Ginny can't sleep while he's there, then he had better get a move on.
Harry breaks eye contact and sits on the dies of her bed, right next to the mountain of pillows that are currently helping Ginny stay in an upright position. Harry decides to not push his luck and ask if he can sit behind her, and instead, scootches as close as he dares.
"I need to unclasp the top of your hospital gown to reach the skin that needs the ointment. Is that okay?"
Ginny nods her head, so Harry slowly sweeps her hair over her left shoulder and slowly unclasps the top of her gown. He hears more than sees Ginny's quick intake of breath.
"I'm not going to hurt you. I will only ever want to heal you and make you feel good," Harry uses his knuckles to push the gown further apart so he has access to the top half of her back. Harry refrains from brushing his hand all the way down her spine. He wishes he could caress every inch of her creamy skin.
Harry takes notice of the red angry marks that start at the base of her neck and cut halfway down her back. it seems that someone used a curse that not only slices the skin, but branches smaller cuts to help the bleeding out process. The Death Eater to do this is lucky Harry wasn't there. He would have killed him in a similar way.
"It might be a little cold," Harry mutters.
He unscrews the lid on the container and scoops up some of the mixture. Harry spreads it evenly across his fingers with his thumb and then slowly rubs it into the base of Ginny's neck. Ginny holds her back stiff and breathes unevenly at his touch.
"Relax, and enjoy the relief. Don't fight it," Harry says, continuing his ministrations.
Ginny slowly takes his advice, until her breathing has slowed and she's slumped over her bent knees.
Harry takes his time, probably enjoying this more than he should.
When Harry has covered all the irritated skin, he screws the lid back on the container and pulls her gown closed so he can clasp the two sides together.
"I'll leave everything on your nightstand, and you can use it whenever your skin starts to bother you. If you need someone to reach all the hard-to-get spots, you know how to contact me," Harry says, slowly inhaling. He casts a silent refreshing charm on her and then places the container on the nightstand.
Ginny straightens up and leans back into the pillows. She studies him with her head slightly tilted. Harry offers her a small smile before he stands.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Harry asks.
"Unless you can get rid of all my aches and pains, I'm afraid not," Ginny says, rolling her eyes. Harry smiles and sits back down.
"What aches? I actually know something that helps with that kind of stuff."
"Of course you do," Ginny mutters. Harry smiles at her brightly.
"So?"
"My right hand is the only thing that's actually bothering me," Ginny says, slowly clenching and unclenching her hand.
"How did you hurt it?" Harry asks, grabbing her hand in both of his, and inspecting it. Her hand is tinted yellow, a sign of her hand being bruised and broken and then magically healed.
"I tackled a Death Eater to the ground, grabbed his wand hand, and slammed it into the ground so I could break his wand," Ginny says matter of factly.
"Damn, woman! I'm going to need to talk to Hermione and get some advice on how to stop making you angry. I'd really like to stay on both feet if I can," Harry exclaims.
Harry thinks back to the spell he'd been reading about literal minutes ago and mutters it quietly until he can say the incantation smoothly and without hitches.
He casts the spell on her hand and then watches Ginny's face for a reaction. When he doesn't see any reaction, he thinks he'd done it wrong, but before he can cast the spell again, Ginny's lips tilt upward.
"That tingles."
Harry smiles at his success, and lets go of GInny's hand.
"Anywhere else, milady?"
"Don't call me that, and no. You can leave," Ginny says, her eyes closing.
Harry shifts on his feet, wanting to do more for her, but also not wanting to push his luck.
"Are you going to just stand there, or are you planning something?" Ginny asks, her eyes still closed.
"I don't know. I'm making this up as I go," Harry says, smiling at the quote.
"Indiana Jones," Harry adds for Ginny's benefit.
"Well, some of us are wanting to sleep. We didn't all get eight-hour naps."
"Is there absolutely no way you'll fall asleep if I'm here?" Harry asks. He won't be able to sleep for a while yet, especially if there's a chance the Death Eaters will come back. Plus, he'd rather stay as a guard. Just in case.
"I highly doubt it."
"Let me try something; just relax, okay?" Harry says.
"Fine," Ginny says, turning on her side. Harry smiles and accios a chair to the side of her bed so he can sit and not bother her.
Ginny is laid on her right side, her left arm laying over her stomach and her right arm lying up by her pillow, forming a ninety-degree angle between her forearm and bicep.
Harry scoots his chair closer and then, with his left hand, caresses her right hand. Harry uses his thumb to lightly massage it and then brings his right hand up and using his fingernails, he runs his hand up and down the inside of her forearm.
Harry loves the feeling of helping Ginny. Helping other people is something Harry had been known to do for a long time, and he'd always enjoyed it, but helping Ginny is like finding a new favorite song. You love it, and you put it on repeat. You surround yourself with it as much as you possibly can, and after a while of not listening to it, you hear it again, and that same feeling returns, and you still love it.
Ginny's breathing evens out, and Harry thinks she actually fell asleep. He doesn't stop tickling her arm for a while. When his arms start to tire he stops and sits back in his chair.
Harry watches her sleep until his eyes start to droop. Deciding he should leave and head back to his dorm, Harry stands and heads for the door. He quietly opens them and shuts them behind him, then, still unsure of her safety, Harry wards the door to the best of his abilities. As in, he made the door a fortress itself and if someone tries to undo them during the night, he'll know about it.
We call this progress and a lot of dialogue. Am I sorry, though? No. Double post for y'all!
-Ace