Section Three: Crash and Burn

***Disclaimer: All this is J.K. Rowling's. Not mine. Got it?***

Let me be the one you call
If you jump, I will break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend your broken heart
If you need to crash, then crash and burn
You're not alone

–Darren Hayes and Daniel Jones

"No, it's my fault," Harry said as he continued to gather Ginny's things. "I was kind of lost in thought."

"I know the feeling," Ginny said, a little absently. It had been a long time since she had seen Harry this close-up, and she didn't like what she saw. His face had the same worn, haggard look that Professor Lupin had always shown right before and after his transformations. His eyes showed very little life, almost as if his soul had died—or he was being followed by a Dementor. He's worse off than I realized, Ginny thought. His worry will kill him before Voldemort gets a chance. I need to talk to him, get his mind off things for a while—but what to say? "Umm. . .what are you doing here, anyway? Don't you have class?"

"Sixth years get a study period once a week, to help prepare for N.E.W.T.s.," Harry replied as he handed Ginny her Potions essay. "Ron and Hermione were playing footsie under the table, and I just felt like I needed to get away from there. What about you? Don't you have class?"

"Usually, but Herbology was cancelled because of the storm. I didn't sleep so well last night, so I was going back to Gryffindor to take a nap before Potions. I don't really feel like getting Detention from Snape for falling asleep in class."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." Harry looked around to see if there was anything on the floor they might have missed. As he looked at the door they were standing in front of, he suddenly went pale. It took a minute for Ginny to realize why. They were standing in front of the Prefect's bathroom.

Ginny hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. In the meantime, Harry kept staring at the door, seemingly lost in thought. Ginny screwed up her courage and quietly said, "Harry, what's wrong?" As if I don't know. . .but I need to give him the chance to bring it up. . .

"I've never been back inside there, you know." Harry's reply was barely more than a whisper, and Ginny thought she could hear it quavering a bit. "I've been a Prefect for a year, and I can't bring myself to go back inside. I thought that if I avoided it, it would be less painful—that I wouldn't have to remember—"

Ginny could tell that he didn't want to say the words, but that they needed to be said, nonetheless. So she said them instead.

"That Cedric helped you."

Harry turned to her, startled. "How did you know? I've never told you. . ."

"Hermione filled me in. I think she thought that if I knew, I would be careful not to mention it to you." Noting the pained look on Harry's face, she quickly began to apologize. "I'm sorry, Harry; I didn't mean to hurt you—"

"No," Harry interrupted, "it's all right. I suppose it's better that you know." He fell silent, gazing again at the door.

"Do—do you want to talk about it?" Not wanting to push him, Ginny quickly added "If you don't that's okay, I just thought it might help—"

"I've talked about it with Ron and Hermione dozens of times," Harry said, the bitterness evident in his voice. "It's never seemed to help." He paused, looking at her. "But—I don't know why, but I want to talk to you—" He paused, looking a little embarrassed. "I mean, maybe you could give me a different perspective."

"I'll do my best," Ginny replied. She beckoned to a stone bench a few feet down the corridor. "Shall we sit down?"

They walked to the bench and sat in silence for a few minutes. Ginny muttered a quick Privacy Charm so they wouldn't be disturbed, but otherwise was perfectly satisfied just to sit close to Harry, waiting for him to start talking. Eventually, he did.

"He came up to me after the Yule Ball. Said that I had done him a favor with the dragons, and wanted to help me out with the egg. I wasn't too happy with him at that point—He had, after all, just spent the whole night with Cho." Harry laughed then, a humorless laugh with a cynical note behind it. Ginny didn't like it. "I had such a crush on her. Of course, I didn't know her very well then. All I knew was that she was pretty and was always nice to me, even when the whole school thought I had cheated to get my name in the Goblet. I know her better now; she's a nice enough girl, but I don't think we would have suited each other, even if it hadn't been for"—Ginny thought she would have to supply Cedric's name again, but Harry managed it— "Cedric. Anyway, he told me to take a bath, and gave me the password to the Prefect's bathroom. It took me a while, but I finally followed his advice. If it hadn't have been for him, I never would have worked out that the Second Task would take place in the lake."

"That was really nice of him," Ginny said, sensing that Harry needed a little prompting to go on. "I didn't know him very well, but he was always nice to me, too—he even knew my name."

"Yes, that would be Cedric. Some people thought he was just trying to be popular, but he wasn't—he really cared about people, about their feelings. In fact, that generosity could have saved him—if I hadn't listened to my everlasting sense of decency. We both reached the Triwizard Cup at almost the same time. He tried to get me to take it—I'd just helped him defeat the Acromantula that sneaked up behind him, and he felt that I deserved it. Of course, I couldn't allow that—he'd got there first, it was his win. We spent a few minutes discussing it. Finally, I suggested we both take the cup together—to tie. If only I'd taken his offer— if only I had taken the cup alone—he'd—he'd still be alive."

Harry hung his head, trembling. Ginny could see the tears start to form. Impulsively, she reached out and took his hand, her own eyes blurring with tears. The feel of her hand in his brought her back to her dream of the night before, and of her strong desire to somehow help him. She realized now that this was her chance. Very, very quietly, she said what Harry desperately needed to hear—and to believe.

"Harry, it wasn't your fault."

He didn't answer, just shook his head, trying to hold back the tears. Seeing this, Ginny gently said, "Don't hold back. You need to let it all out. You've been holding it all in for the last year and a half, and it's eating you up inside. Just let go." She gently pulled Harry to her, holding him tight while he sobbed. "Just let go," she repeated.

Ginny didn't know how long she sat there, with her arms around Harry as he cried into her shoulder, but it was a long time. Ginny was grateful for the time; she didn't know what to do next. She was sure that Harry had heard those words before—from Ron, from Hermione, from

Dumbledore, even from her own mother. What she needed to do was to help him believe them. She thought back again to that summer after her first year when she was battling with feelings of guilt for what had happened with the Chamber of Secrets. She remembered the tears she shed that summer, the nights she spent believing that it was all her fault. And suddenly, she realized how she could help; and, ironically, that she was the only one that could do it. When Harry had finally calmed down enough that he could pay attention, she spoke.

"Funny, isn't it? We both avoid bathrooms. You avoid the Prefect's bathroom; I avoid Moaning Myrtle's." Surprised at this turn in the conversation, Harry pulled back and looked at her quizzically. "I don't even walk by it if I can help it. I just keep thinking about those people lying Petrified in the Hospital Wing—Colin, Justin, Penelope, Hermione—and I did it all."

"That's ridiculous," said Harry. "You weren't in control, it was Voldemort. He did it all."

"He may have taken me over, but I let him. I wrote in that diary. I was stupid. I trusted him."

"Ginny, it's not your fault. Voldemort did it. And he couldn't have done it if it hadn't been for Lucius Malfoy. He planted that diary in your Transfiguration book. He planned it all. If you want to blame anyone, blame Voldemort—or Lucius Malfoy. Don't blame yourself."

"I don't," Ginny replied quietly. "Well, I did at first. It took a while, but I realized that I didn't have any control over what happened. And neither did you." Harry flinched, but Ginny went on. "I just wanted you to look at a similar situation. It's not your fault that Sirius was captured. It's not your fault that my family has been threatened."

She looked him straight in the eye so he would be sure to understand. "And it's not your fault that Cedric died. It was Voldemort"—it was easy to think the name, but to say it took great effort—"who captured Sirius. It was Voldemort who threatened my family. And it was Voldemort who killed Cedric. It's not your fault any more than it was my fault that Hermione was Petrified. If there had been no Harry Potter, all those things might still have happened. For that matter, it probably would have been a lot worse—because Voldemort would have been around for the last 15 years, too, instead of just the last year and a half."

Ginny watched Harry's reaction to her words before going on. She liked what she saw. Instead of the deadness she had seen in his eyes, she saw a glimmer of—hope? Peace? Some of both? It was time to complete the idea, and fulfill a promise she made to herself four years ago.

"One thing is certain: if there had been no Harry Potter, I wouldn't be here right now. Because you saved my life, Harry. You went into the Chamber of Secrets all by yourself; you fought and killed a Basilisk with nothing more than a sword, the Sorting Hat, and a Phoenix. You defeated Lord Voldemort again, and this time you were more than just a baby who didn't know what he was doing; you were a twelve-year-old boy who cared more about the life of his best friend's baby sister—who had embarrassed him at every turn for the last year—than he did about his own life. Every time you think to yourself that Cedric's death was your fault, remember me. Remember that I'm still here because of you—and that I'm eternally grateful to you for that. I've wanted to tell you thank you for a long time, but I've never had the chance—until now."

Harry was looking at her very strangely. It was as if he didn't know what to believe. He had spent so much time blaming himself, it was hard for him to let go of the guilt. And yet, she could tell that he wanted to believe her—wanted with all his heart to believe her. He gazed into her eyes for a long time, as if studying what he saw there. Ginny hoped that all the gratitude she felt—the certainty that he was blameless in what was going on—her belief in him and his abilities—that they were all reflected there, and that he could gather strength from her gaze. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Well. I wanted a different perspective, and I got one. Hermione has never said that." Harry grinned somewhat sheepishly. Ginny took the fact that Harry could speak lightly after such a conversation as a sign that she had helped—that he felt at least a little better. Suddenly serious again, Harry looked at her. "Thank you," he murmured. "With all that's been happening, I almost forgot. No. I did forget." He stood, then turned back to her. "I think I'm going to go back to my dormitory to think for a while. Will you walk with me?"

Ginny nodded, and Harry helped her up. As they walked, Ginny gathered her courage. "Harry, I hope this won't be a one-time occurrence. Anytime you want to talk, I'm here. Anytime you just want to sit in silence with someone beside you, I'm here. And anytime Ron and Hermione go off for a bit of private snogging, I'm here." She smiled when Harry laughed. It came more easily than it would have half an hour ago. "I want to be your friend, Harry. Will you let me?"

"You can bet on it," Harry replied. He grinned again. "Just don't place the bet with Ludo Bagman." Ginny laughed, and Harry laughed with her. This time, there was no bitterness, no cynical note. She knew that he hadn't fully recovered yet—that would take time, and lots of it. But it was a start. After they stopped laughing, he continued. "I don't know why, but it was easy for me to talk to you back there—I didn't know if you would actually be able to help me or not, but I knew I could tell you everything, and that it would make me feel better. If you can do that, I'll definitely be back." Ginny didn't reply, but she smiled.

Finally, they reached the common room. Ginny said, "See you later," and started toward the girls' staircase. Just as she reached the foot of the stairs, she heard her name.

"Ginny."

She turned and looked at Harry, who was at the foot of his own stairs. "You're welcome."

"And so are you, Harry. You're welcome, too." They smiled at one another, then turned away. As Ginny climbed the stairs, the smile widened. Again her thoughts returned to her dream of the night before. The feel of Harry's hand in hers still lingered, but this time the feeling had been real. Well, that part came true, she thought. Now for the rest of it. . .I'll just have to wait and see.


A/N: Don't worry, I'm not ending it there! Section 4 will be uploaded shortly. :)