They sat together, sometimes hand in hand. Occasionally their silence ended in each other's arms. They spoke very little; when they did it wasn't so much conversation as random thoughts and feelings. The sky above the lake was gray and restless and annoyed Harry because it too accurately reflected the mood that had settled on them all since Percy's visit the night before. The squid languidly spun in a tranquil ballet, waving tentacles gently as if in sympathy. He was probably devouring some unfortunate aquatic neighbor, thought Harry sourly and grinned slightly at this unwarranted pessimism.
Ginny was winding a lock of hair around her wand. She did this repeatedly when lost in thought and only stopped when it was pulled gently from her. Loving fingers replaced it, running gently through locks that glowed defiantly even in the midst of the gloom.
"Gin…?"
"Yes?"
Harry drew her head down to his shoulder. She snuggled into him and he sighed. Why couldn't they just stay like this? Was it so terrible to want to just live out his life with the girl he loved?
"Gin…I think that it's time for me to go."
She didn't say anything. He felt his heart wrench as he felt a small hand slide into his. It would be so easy to take it back - change his mind; say "just kidding". Then they could kiss, laugh, make love and wait for Voldemort's army to smash through the gates at Hogwarts. It frightened him to think that it was still a tempting thought.
He had gone to Dumbledore's office early that morning, leaving Ginny's tear-stained face asleep on his pillow. He'd pressed his lips lightly against hers and saw the faintest trace of a smile flit across them before tiptoeing down the spiral stairs. To his surprise, the Headmaster had been waiting for him in his office. He looked older; his face seemed to sag in places it hadn't before. Or maybe it was his eyes - there was no greeting twinkle as he invited Harry to sit down. Harry had wasted no time.
"Professor Dumbledore, why didn't you tell us - tell ME how bad it was out there?" he'd burst out.
Dumbledore sighed heavily.
"For several reasons, Harry. One is that it hasn't been that bad out there for very long. We thought that the tide had perhaps turned. Then the blows fell. It seems that some of our defenses all crumbled at once - we lost several crucial information-gatherers…and of course, George and Fred Weasley. I'm assuming that you heard about them and this is what brought you here today."
"Well - that's part of it. But… it sounds like chaos out there. I mean, is Voldemort just killing everybody?"
"He is Harry." His voice was calm. "I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I'm afraid I cannot. The Dark Lord has begun rounding up whole wizarding families and they just seem to disappear. No one knows where they've gone - we assume they're dead. We just don't know. There is no Dark Mark - nothing." Dumbledore rose and moved toward the cupboard where the Pensieve reposed. "Come - see for yourself. It's time you knew exactly what's going on."
He beckoned to Harry, opening the heavy door. There was the oval -shaped stone basin. Harry peered down at the shimmering silver pool and saw it start to form colors. They flowed together and the edges hardened to create an image of a room. Harry thought back to the last time he'd been witness to the Pensieve and it's mysteries. Then he had seen the triumphant and tragic end of Voldemort's reign. Or so he and everyone had thought - suddenly the floor seemed to fall out from under him and he felt himself drop, slamming into black nothingness before landing in the middle of a large, sparsely lit room.
He and Dumbledore were sitting on a bench surrounded by about twenty witches and wizards. Some hunched over a rickety wooden table, others paced about restlessly or sat silently. Two figures sat on the floor against a scarred and twisted pillar. Candles flickered from sconces on the walls, throwing odd shadows over some whilst illuminating others brightly. There was much conversation, sometimes a few different ones at the same time. Voices rose and fell. Someone was drawing what looked to be a map in the air with her wand. Most seemed to be drinking butterbeer or mead. As Harry peered curiously around, his mouth dropped open - the two on the floor were Fred and George. He turned quickly and Dumbledore smiled.
"Yes Harry. These are our people. The twins are out of danger. Not for long, perhaps. But for now, they are safe. I thought you might like to take that news back with you."
Harry turned back to stare at the two dirty men. If he hadn't been conditioned to assume that everyone with flaming hair was a Weasley, he wouldn't have recognized them. Their robes were in tatters; they looked worse than those Sirius wore when Harry last saw him. He'd never seen them when they weren't clean-shaven. It was their faces that shocked Harry the most. There was no trace of laughter, no glitter of mischief in the faces. They were grim and stoic, listening silently to the various speakers. Their eyes gleamed with a manic fire he'd never seen before.
A voice rang out - startling Harry. He turned to the speaker and saw a tall, gaunt man. His robes seemed to hang from shoulders that couldn't possibly hold their weight. Long brown hair was threaded with gray around the harsh planes of his face. His eyes were sunken in the sockets. Harry squinted in the flickering light. There was something familiar…
"…Lupin!" Harry breathed, stunned. He hadn't seen his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher since he'd left Hogwarts. There had been a few owls, mostly inquiring after their studies and assuring them of his prosperity. Harry knew that he was in the thick of the fighting, but had no idea…He was amazed. Lupin seemed very much in charge here. He wasn't an outcast werewolf anymore. He was a leader.
"Please! Everyone! If we hope to accomplish anything tonight, we need to do so in an organized fashion. I realize that we have a lot to do and a very short time in which to do it, so I suggest we begin immediately."
There was a ring of authority in the voice that was curiously incongruous with the tall, gaunt figure that issued the words, but the ragged group responded instantly and all conversation ceased.
"Thank you very much. All right. First we'll hear the report. Severus?"
Harry's eyes widened. From a shadowy corner rose Professor Snape. He too was thin - much more so than before. His face was grimmer than Harry had ever seen it - even when telling him off or sneering at Neville. His still greasy hair was tied back tightly; he was dressed completely in black. The cold eyes darted over the faces of the listeners, reminding Harry of too many Potions classes.
"I regret to report that Olympe Maxime is dead." A rumble of murmured exclamations greeted this. Heads bowed and there were several in the crowd that seemed to be holding back tears. Many looked angry. Harry noticed that though the emotion was obviously running high, people were careful to keep their voices modulated, as if in danger of being overheard, They probably were, Harry realized with a start.
"I'm sorry I am unable to give more details at this time. Madame was invaluable as a negotiator with the Giant Alliance. She was fearless in pursuing potential information gatherers. No doubt this was why she was successfully targeted. Hagrid has reported that this has created much fear within the Giant community. There are reports that many in the Alliance are leaning toward The Dark Lord again. We assume that there are many more, but without Madame Maxime, there is little we can do to investigate. Hagrid is attempting to do so, but of course, can only do so much…"
Harry stared. It all felt so strange - here was Snape speaking as to equals, without so much as a sneer or sarcastic word. He had even expressed regret over the loss of Madame Maxime. Poor Hagrid! No doubt he was devastated al the loss. Harry felt his throat tighten at the thought of his friend alone in the North country mourning her death. Snape contunued.
"The Ministry has escalated efforts to find safe houses for refugees. Since France surrendered to the Death-eater forces in October, there has been a steady influx of wizarding families fleeing the country to our shores. Beauxbaton was the last strong-hold of the Alliance fighters, but that too has fallen."
Harry whirled around to face Dumbledore. "France? Surrendered completely?" he breathed incredulously. He thought of Fleur Delacoeur and her sister. Were they too dead?
Dumbledore nodded but didn't answer. He was listening to a member of the crowd address them. Harry turned back and started. It was Dumbledore himself who was speaking. Harry did a quick double-take before his whirling brain reminded himself that he was observing the old wizard's memories. This was obviously the very recent past, but it was still unsettling to be reminded that he was watching the same Dumbledore as the one beside him. The other Headmaster was speaking quietly.
"I have hesitated to offer Hogwarts as a refuge, as my first priority must always, of course be our students. Anyone that DOES return at the start of the new semester will be welcomed but I think I'm safe in assuming that not many will. I think the time has come to extend a welcome to our fellow witches and wizards. I am working presently with the Ministry to coordinate the transport of 100 refugees to Hogwarts by the first of February. After that, we will continue to invite guests as space and safety dictate." The other Dumbledore sat down amidst respectful murmurs.
Snape actually bowed in the Headmaster's direction. "This will, no doubt, be good news that I will be happy to relay. This is all I have to report at this time" Harry stared in disbelief - was that actually a smile cracking the sullen face? Was it possible that this war was actually making him a nice person or did people just act differently at difficult times? He glanced over at the twins. Yes, it changed people. He thought at that moment that he would give anything to see just one glimmer of mischief in those eyes. He felt his own well up surprisingly and averted them with a quick swipe.
When he looked up, Lupin had moved forward again.
"Thank you Severus." He inclined his head to his former enemy. It was returned.
"Now, before we separate for individual unit reports, I do have one more thing to relate. I don't have to tell you about the efforts now afoot to capture the Weasley brothers." All heads turned toward the twins, who both looked up at Lupin. He continued, "They have done great service for the good of the wizarding world and we honor them." Several "hear hears" could be heard. Many hands patted the stiff backs. "However, great valor does come with a price, though not always paid by the ones who would do so." Lupin abruptly turned and spoke directly to the twins as if they were alone. "George…Fred…Voldemort has called off the search for you. Believing it to be futile; he is now concentrating his efforts to discover your secret-keeper. Your family is targeted. They are… in grave danger." Lupin seemed to hesitate before adding gently, "Someone died getting that information to us. I say that not to place a further burden, but to assure you that there are many, many people who are working as we speak to secure their safety. I will meet with you in private regarding specific plans."
Harry felt a horrible fear wash over him. He vaguely noticed George's throat working silently and Fred leaning his forehead on his arm. Lupin continued talking, but Harry only heard a blurred voice that formed no words. It sounded like it was coming from under water, but Harry was the one drowning. "Targeted next" kept echoing like the blood pounding in his veins. He didn't notice Dumbledore's hand on his arm until he heard him say quietly, "We'll be leaving now, Harry." The room blurred and shot away as Harry whirled up into a moment of blackness. He felt his stomach roll as he spun around and landed with a jolt back in Dumbledore's office.
Harry collapsed into a chair and hunched forward, running frustrated hands through his hair. The whole Weasley family…He rubbed his eyes as if to dispell the sight of the weary and wounded twins. It was HIS family - the only real family he'd ever known. Images of warm kitchens and Quidditch and hugs and green sweaters all tumbled together in a loving swirl of memories. He thought of Ron, hanging onto him as they both doubled over laughing at nothing at all. And then of course, there was Ginny…
"Harry." Dumbledore had sat down across from him. "If your mind hadn't been firmly made up when you came to see me, I think I can assume it is now. I take it you will be leaving us?"
Harry jumped as though he'd just been struck. "H-how did you know?"
Dumbledore smiled and offered him tea. Arguments were presented matter-of-factly. Counter arguments were given equal consideration. Harry paced the room and kicked a chair. With a gentle smile, Dumbledore suggested a few pieces of furniture in the castle that wouldn't cause him as much pain should he attempt it again. After several hours, Harry had given up trying to goad the Headmaster into telling him what to do. Dumbledore did, however, extract a promise from him to return after carefully reflecting on his decision. Sirius had confided in the Headmaster that he'd extracted a promise from Harry to stay safe.
"Remember Harry, there are few good reasons for breaking a promise - but that doesn't mean they don't exist. If you decide to go, I will not stop you. This is a decision that only you can make." Dumbledore had placed a firm hand on his shoulder as he saw him to the door.
The trek back to Gryffindor Tower seemed interminable; the empty corridors echoed with every step. His mind was racing so fast that later he was hard pressed to remember the walk at all. He'd met Ginny at the portrait hole and kissed away the worried furrow between her eyebrows before leading her to the lake. Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall stopped them.
"Potter! Miss Weasley! A word with you! I'm afraid that if you're looking to take a walk, I cannot allow it."
"But…why?" Ginny asked.
"I'm sorry…We shall all be keeping inside until further notice. Orders from the Ministry." Professor McGonagall answered crisply, then softened her tone "…again…I'm sorry…I cannot say more."
Harry watched Ginny's shoulders slump as she nodded silently.
"Please…"
"Potter! I have told you -" She folded her lips for a moment, looking thoughtful. She suddenly pulled out her wand. "Miss Weasley…Potter…follow me…"
That was when she'd led them to the Great Hall. With a quick flick of her wrist "ementior -- lacus!" the large lake appeared spread out before them. It was like looking at a giant portrait of the grounds at Hogwarts. Harry and Ginny gazed around them and looked at each other in disbelief. He was suddenly overcome with a desire to laugh. It was all too surreal. Ginny stifled a giggle and before they knew it, they were both snorting and biting their lips in a futile attempt to smother their amusement.
The Professor smiled a little ruefully. "There. This is a compromise - DO YOU UNDERSTAND? I can only assume that if I didn't make some kind of allowance for you, you would simply wait until I wasn't looking and sneak out!" She turned and swept from the room.
As they sat together by the counterfeit lake, Harry felt the merriment fade. It seemed as if the life was draining out of Ginny too. Hours dragged by broken only by an occasional loving look or caress. How could two people who loved each other so much be so miserable? He looked down and saw that his hands were balled into angry fists. Yes, he felt furious. He felt cheated out of every moment he couldn't spend laughing with his friends. Out of every moment that should have been spent reminding Ginny that she was the most important thing in the world to him. It was then that he'd told her he was leaving to meet Voldemort for the last time.
The little hand pressed harder into his. It trembled slightly. Harry waited. Nothing.
"Ginny?"
There was no answer. Harry leaned back to try and see her face, but couldn't. Her head was bowed against his chest. He reached down and touched her chin, turning it slightly. She wrenched away suddenly, turning her head still further away.
"Ginny…please…" Harry began.
"Harry. DON"T. " She whirled to face him abruptly. He stared. Her face was like stone, her eyes…he shuddered slightly. He'd never seen her huge brown eyes look so …so…dead. There were no tears.
Her voice was hoarse and cracked. It too, sounded flat.
"Harry. Don't. Don't ask me to understand. I DO understand. I understand completely. Don't insult me by trying to EXPLAIN it…I love The Boy Who Lived. God knows I've witnessed enough duels with death to understand that. I've said that we're living on borrowed time and I guess the day of reckoning has come! I can't argue that it's not time, can I? Just do me one favor…whatever you do, do NOT tell me that everything will be OK."
She jumped to her feet and ran. The doors to the Great Hall were thrown open, the slam echoing throughout the empty passages. Harry sat frozen, feeling like he'd been punched hard in the gut. He felt suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of hopeless despair.
"Not now! Please Gin, I can't do this without you!" he thought struggling to his feet and racing after.
The fear and dread that had been building in him seemed to seep out in rivulets from every pore as he ran. It engulfed him, goading him on faster as if finding her would stem the flow. His eyes darted furiously into doorways and down passages but there was no flash of copper, no small beloved figure anywhere. Panic clawed threateningly in this throat as he realized that she could very well have defied the order and gone outside. He grabbed a windowsill and banged his head against the leaded panes trying to see out across the grounds. Nothing. He pressed his forehead against the cold glass, trying to will himself to be calm. He turned to rush to the spiral staircase, praying that she'd gone back to Gryffindor Tower. The crash as he collided directly into his quarry sent them both to the floor.
"Ugh… Gin! Oh thank you. Thank you." He didn't know whom he was thanking, he just knew that he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. She was back safe with him. He could just make her out through the stars dancing before his eyes and grabbed her as if afraid she'd flee again. She was clutching her own head, her face hidden by an orange avalanche of hair. She managed to clasp his robe in return. Both panting with exhaustion and wincing with pain, they slumped against each other. As the physical ache abated, the emotional surged up. Harry pulled her into his arms. She broke down in tears, her sobs echoing through the passages like high triumphant laughter. As they clung together on the worn rug in an empty hallway, a realization dawned on him. If he couldn't leave Hogwarts with Ginny's goodbye and blessing, he would have to battle the enemy with a hole in him where she had once been. The aching void would kill him, even if Voldemort didn't.
Ginny was winding a lock of hair around her wand. She did this repeatedly when lost in thought and only stopped when it was pulled gently from her. Loving fingers replaced it, running gently through locks that glowed defiantly even in the midst of the gloom.
"Gin…?"
"Yes?"
Harry drew her head down to his shoulder. She snuggled into him and he sighed. Why couldn't they just stay like this? Was it so terrible to want to just live out his life with the girl he loved?
"Gin…I think that it's time for me to go."
She didn't say anything. He felt his heart wrench as he felt a small hand slide into his. It would be so easy to take it back - change his mind; say "just kidding". Then they could kiss, laugh, make love and wait for Voldemort's army to smash through the gates at Hogwarts. It frightened him to think that it was still a tempting thought.
He had gone to Dumbledore's office early that morning, leaving Ginny's tear-stained face asleep on his pillow. He'd pressed his lips lightly against hers and saw the faintest trace of a smile flit across them before tiptoeing down the spiral stairs. To his surprise, the Headmaster had been waiting for him in his office. He looked older; his face seemed to sag in places it hadn't before. Or maybe it was his eyes - there was no greeting twinkle as he invited Harry to sit down. Harry had wasted no time.
"Professor Dumbledore, why didn't you tell us - tell ME how bad it was out there?" he'd burst out.
Dumbledore sighed heavily.
"For several reasons, Harry. One is that it hasn't been that bad out there for very long. We thought that the tide had perhaps turned. Then the blows fell. It seems that some of our defenses all crumbled at once - we lost several crucial information-gatherers…and of course, George and Fred Weasley. I'm assuming that you heard about them and this is what brought you here today."
"Well - that's part of it. But… it sounds like chaos out there. I mean, is Voldemort just killing everybody?"
"He is Harry." His voice was calm. "I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I'm afraid I cannot. The Dark Lord has begun rounding up whole wizarding families and they just seem to disappear. No one knows where they've gone - we assume they're dead. We just don't know. There is no Dark Mark - nothing." Dumbledore rose and moved toward the cupboard where the Pensieve reposed. "Come - see for yourself. It's time you knew exactly what's going on."
He beckoned to Harry, opening the heavy door. There was the oval -shaped stone basin. Harry peered down at the shimmering silver pool and saw it start to form colors. They flowed together and the edges hardened to create an image of a room. Harry thought back to the last time he'd been witness to the Pensieve and it's mysteries. Then he had seen the triumphant and tragic end of Voldemort's reign. Or so he and everyone had thought - suddenly the floor seemed to fall out from under him and he felt himself drop, slamming into black nothingness before landing in the middle of a large, sparsely lit room.
He and Dumbledore were sitting on a bench surrounded by about twenty witches and wizards. Some hunched over a rickety wooden table, others paced about restlessly or sat silently. Two figures sat on the floor against a scarred and twisted pillar. Candles flickered from sconces on the walls, throwing odd shadows over some whilst illuminating others brightly. There was much conversation, sometimes a few different ones at the same time. Voices rose and fell. Someone was drawing what looked to be a map in the air with her wand. Most seemed to be drinking butterbeer or mead. As Harry peered curiously around, his mouth dropped open - the two on the floor were Fred and George. He turned quickly and Dumbledore smiled.
"Yes Harry. These are our people. The twins are out of danger. Not for long, perhaps. But for now, they are safe. I thought you might like to take that news back with you."
Harry turned back to stare at the two dirty men. If he hadn't been conditioned to assume that everyone with flaming hair was a Weasley, he wouldn't have recognized them. Their robes were in tatters; they looked worse than those Sirius wore when Harry last saw him. He'd never seen them when they weren't clean-shaven. It was their faces that shocked Harry the most. There was no trace of laughter, no glitter of mischief in the faces. They were grim and stoic, listening silently to the various speakers. Their eyes gleamed with a manic fire he'd never seen before.
A voice rang out - startling Harry. He turned to the speaker and saw a tall, gaunt man. His robes seemed to hang from shoulders that couldn't possibly hold their weight. Long brown hair was threaded with gray around the harsh planes of his face. His eyes were sunken in the sockets. Harry squinted in the flickering light. There was something familiar…
"…Lupin!" Harry breathed, stunned. He hadn't seen his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher since he'd left Hogwarts. There had been a few owls, mostly inquiring after their studies and assuring them of his prosperity. Harry knew that he was in the thick of the fighting, but had no idea…He was amazed. Lupin seemed very much in charge here. He wasn't an outcast werewolf anymore. He was a leader.
"Please! Everyone! If we hope to accomplish anything tonight, we need to do so in an organized fashion. I realize that we have a lot to do and a very short time in which to do it, so I suggest we begin immediately."
There was a ring of authority in the voice that was curiously incongruous with the tall, gaunt figure that issued the words, but the ragged group responded instantly and all conversation ceased.
"Thank you very much. All right. First we'll hear the report. Severus?"
Harry's eyes widened. From a shadowy corner rose Professor Snape. He too was thin - much more so than before. His face was grimmer than Harry had ever seen it - even when telling him off or sneering at Neville. His still greasy hair was tied back tightly; he was dressed completely in black. The cold eyes darted over the faces of the listeners, reminding Harry of too many Potions classes.
"I regret to report that Olympe Maxime is dead." A rumble of murmured exclamations greeted this. Heads bowed and there were several in the crowd that seemed to be holding back tears. Many looked angry. Harry noticed that though the emotion was obviously running high, people were careful to keep their voices modulated, as if in danger of being overheard, They probably were, Harry realized with a start.
"I'm sorry I am unable to give more details at this time. Madame was invaluable as a negotiator with the Giant Alliance. She was fearless in pursuing potential information gatherers. No doubt this was why she was successfully targeted. Hagrid has reported that this has created much fear within the Giant community. There are reports that many in the Alliance are leaning toward The Dark Lord again. We assume that there are many more, but without Madame Maxime, there is little we can do to investigate. Hagrid is attempting to do so, but of course, can only do so much…"
Harry stared. It all felt so strange - here was Snape speaking as to equals, without so much as a sneer or sarcastic word. He had even expressed regret over the loss of Madame Maxime. Poor Hagrid! No doubt he was devastated al the loss. Harry felt his throat tighten at the thought of his friend alone in the North country mourning her death. Snape contunued.
"The Ministry has escalated efforts to find safe houses for refugees. Since France surrendered to the Death-eater forces in October, there has been a steady influx of wizarding families fleeing the country to our shores. Beauxbaton was the last strong-hold of the Alliance fighters, but that too has fallen."
Harry whirled around to face Dumbledore. "France? Surrendered completely?" he breathed incredulously. He thought of Fleur Delacoeur and her sister. Were they too dead?
Dumbledore nodded but didn't answer. He was listening to a member of the crowd address them. Harry turned back and started. It was Dumbledore himself who was speaking. Harry did a quick double-take before his whirling brain reminded himself that he was observing the old wizard's memories. This was obviously the very recent past, but it was still unsettling to be reminded that he was watching the same Dumbledore as the one beside him. The other Headmaster was speaking quietly.
"I have hesitated to offer Hogwarts as a refuge, as my first priority must always, of course be our students. Anyone that DOES return at the start of the new semester will be welcomed but I think I'm safe in assuming that not many will. I think the time has come to extend a welcome to our fellow witches and wizards. I am working presently with the Ministry to coordinate the transport of 100 refugees to Hogwarts by the first of February. After that, we will continue to invite guests as space and safety dictate." The other Dumbledore sat down amidst respectful murmurs.
Snape actually bowed in the Headmaster's direction. "This will, no doubt, be good news that I will be happy to relay. This is all I have to report at this time" Harry stared in disbelief - was that actually a smile cracking the sullen face? Was it possible that this war was actually making him a nice person or did people just act differently at difficult times? He glanced over at the twins. Yes, it changed people. He thought at that moment that he would give anything to see just one glimmer of mischief in those eyes. He felt his own well up surprisingly and averted them with a quick swipe.
When he looked up, Lupin had moved forward again.
"Thank you Severus." He inclined his head to his former enemy. It was returned.
"Now, before we separate for individual unit reports, I do have one more thing to relate. I don't have to tell you about the efforts now afoot to capture the Weasley brothers." All heads turned toward the twins, who both looked up at Lupin. He continued, "They have done great service for the good of the wizarding world and we honor them." Several "hear hears" could be heard. Many hands patted the stiff backs. "However, great valor does come with a price, though not always paid by the ones who would do so." Lupin abruptly turned and spoke directly to the twins as if they were alone. "George…Fred…Voldemort has called off the search for you. Believing it to be futile; he is now concentrating his efforts to discover your secret-keeper. Your family is targeted. They are… in grave danger." Lupin seemed to hesitate before adding gently, "Someone died getting that information to us. I say that not to place a further burden, but to assure you that there are many, many people who are working as we speak to secure their safety. I will meet with you in private regarding specific plans."
Harry felt a horrible fear wash over him. He vaguely noticed George's throat working silently and Fred leaning his forehead on his arm. Lupin continued talking, but Harry only heard a blurred voice that formed no words. It sounded like it was coming from under water, but Harry was the one drowning. "Targeted next" kept echoing like the blood pounding in his veins. He didn't notice Dumbledore's hand on his arm until he heard him say quietly, "We'll be leaving now, Harry." The room blurred and shot away as Harry whirled up into a moment of blackness. He felt his stomach roll as he spun around and landed with a jolt back in Dumbledore's office.
Harry collapsed into a chair and hunched forward, running frustrated hands through his hair. The whole Weasley family…He rubbed his eyes as if to dispell the sight of the weary and wounded twins. It was HIS family - the only real family he'd ever known. Images of warm kitchens and Quidditch and hugs and green sweaters all tumbled together in a loving swirl of memories. He thought of Ron, hanging onto him as they both doubled over laughing at nothing at all. And then of course, there was Ginny…
"Harry." Dumbledore had sat down across from him. "If your mind hadn't been firmly made up when you came to see me, I think I can assume it is now. I take it you will be leaving us?"
Harry jumped as though he'd just been struck. "H-how did you know?"
Dumbledore smiled and offered him tea. Arguments were presented matter-of-factly. Counter arguments were given equal consideration. Harry paced the room and kicked a chair. With a gentle smile, Dumbledore suggested a few pieces of furniture in the castle that wouldn't cause him as much pain should he attempt it again. After several hours, Harry had given up trying to goad the Headmaster into telling him what to do. Dumbledore did, however, extract a promise from him to return after carefully reflecting on his decision. Sirius had confided in the Headmaster that he'd extracted a promise from Harry to stay safe.
"Remember Harry, there are few good reasons for breaking a promise - but that doesn't mean they don't exist. If you decide to go, I will not stop you. This is a decision that only you can make." Dumbledore had placed a firm hand on his shoulder as he saw him to the door.
The trek back to Gryffindor Tower seemed interminable; the empty corridors echoed with every step. His mind was racing so fast that later he was hard pressed to remember the walk at all. He'd met Ginny at the portrait hole and kissed away the worried furrow between her eyebrows before leading her to the lake. Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall stopped them.
"Potter! Miss Weasley! A word with you! I'm afraid that if you're looking to take a walk, I cannot allow it."
"But…why?" Ginny asked.
"I'm sorry…We shall all be keeping inside until further notice. Orders from the Ministry." Professor McGonagall answered crisply, then softened her tone "…again…I'm sorry…I cannot say more."
Harry watched Ginny's shoulders slump as she nodded silently.
"Please…"
"Potter! I have told you -" She folded her lips for a moment, looking thoughtful. She suddenly pulled out her wand. "Miss Weasley…Potter…follow me…"
That was when she'd led them to the Great Hall. With a quick flick of her wrist "ementior -- lacus!" the large lake appeared spread out before them. It was like looking at a giant portrait of the grounds at Hogwarts. Harry and Ginny gazed around them and looked at each other in disbelief. He was suddenly overcome with a desire to laugh. It was all too surreal. Ginny stifled a giggle and before they knew it, they were both snorting and biting their lips in a futile attempt to smother their amusement.
The Professor smiled a little ruefully. "There. This is a compromise - DO YOU UNDERSTAND? I can only assume that if I didn't make some kind of allowance for you, you would simply wait until I wasn't looking and sneak out!" She turned and swept from the room.
As they sat together by the counterfeit lake, Harry felt the merriment fade. It seemed as if the life was draining out of Ginny too. Hours dragged by broken only by an occasional loving look or caress. How could two people who loved each other so much be so miserable? He looked down and saw that his hands were balled into angry fists. Yes, he felt furious. He felt cheated out of every moment he couldn't spend laughing with his friends. Out of every moment that should have been spent reminding Ginny that she was the most important thing in the world to him. It was then that he'd told her he was leaving to meet Voldemort for the last time.
The little hand pressed harder into his. It trembled slightly. Harry waited. Nothing.
"Ginny?"
There was no answer. Harry leaned back to try and see her face, but couldn't. Her head was bowed against his chest. He reached down and touched her chin, turning it slightly. She wrenched away suddenly, turning her head still further away.
"Ginny…please…" Harry began.
"Harry. DON"T. " She whirled to face him abruptly. He stared. Her face was like stone, her eyes…he shuddered slightly. He'd never seen her huge brown eyes look so …so…dead. There were no tears.
Her voice was hoarse and cracked. It too, sounded flat.
"Harry. Don't. Don't ask me to understand. I DO understand. I understand completely. Don't insult me by trying to EXPLAIN it…I love The Boy Who Lived. God knows I've witnessed enough duels with death to understand that. I've said that we're living on borrowed time and I guess the day of reckoning has come! I can't argue that it's not time, can I? Just do me one favor…whatever you do, do NOT tell me that everything will be OK."
She jumped to her feet and ran. The doors to the Great Hall were thrown open, the slam echoing throughout the empty passages. Harry sat frozen, feeling like he'd been punched hard in the gut. He felt suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of hopeless despair.
"Not now! Please Gin, I can't do this without you!" he thought struggling to his feet and racing after.
The fear and dread that had been building in him seemed to seep out in rivulets from every pore as he ran. It engulfed him, goading him on faster as if finding her would stem the flow. His eyes darted furiously into doorways and down passages but there was no flash of copper, no small beloved figure anywhere. Panic clawed threateningly in this throat as he realized that she could very well have defied the order and gone outside. He grabbed a windowsill and banged his head against the leaded panes trying to see out across the grounds. Nothing. He pressed his forehead against the cold glass, trying to will himself to be calm. He turned to rush to the spiral staircase, praying that she'd gone back to Gryffindor Tower. The crash as he collided directly into his quarry sent them both to the floor.
"Ugh… Gin! Oh thank you. Thank you." He didn't know whom he was thanking, he just knew that he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. She was back safe with him. He could just make her out through the stars dancing before his eyes and grabbed her as if afraid she'd flee again. She was clutching her own head, her face hidden by an orange avalanche of hair. She managed to clasp his robe in return. Both panting with exhaustion and wincing with pain, they slumped against each other. As the physical ache abated, the emotional surged up. Harry pulled her into his arms. She broke down in tears, her sobs echoing through the passages like high triumphant laughter. As they clung together on the worn rug in an empty hallway, a realization dawned on him. If he couldn't leave Hogwarts with Ginny's goodbye and blessing, he would have to battle the enemy with a hole in him where she had once been. The aching void would kill him, even if Voldemort didn't.