THAT SUMMER, Chapter 7
By Reija Linn
Harry
I could not understand, as much as I'd tried, what exactly had transpired that night.
I had been dreaming of Ron, again. I was at Hogwarts, behind the broomshed, where he and I had first admitted our love to each other - and I was alone. But my surroundings were different than I remembered them, though unmistakably I was within Hogwart's grounds. Before me, the earth was broken, as if by a huge earthquake, a large crack in the earth, as deep as nothing I had ever seen before - I could not see the ground, but I could hear something rumbling down there, a moaning sound, but so evil I could feel no compassion for whatever creature it was that was trapped in there.
Behind me, I could see the school building, enclosed in swirling blue, white, red and green lights, as if a magical battle was being fought there. Above my head, there were swarms upon swarms of owls, brown, white, grey, even one or two of the rare black-feathered ones. In the distance, a raven's scream could be heard, and I felt tears on my own cheeks, tasted salt as they fell from my lips to the ground and down the hole in the earth that seemed to go to the very core of the planet.
And suddenly, I saw Ron standing before me, though we were parted by the rift, and try as I might, I could not cross it for it was so wide. And Ron just stood there, almost translucent, as a spirit or ghost - which he probably was - though not silvery like the ghosts I had known at Hogwarts, just... paled, somehow devout of colour... lifeless. He just stood there, not even trying to come across to my side, smiling a smile wiser and more knowing than I had ever seen him smile while he was alive, as though he could see things i could not.
"Hello, Harry."
"Ron!" I screamed, in terror that he might leave me, but he merely continued to smile at me.
"Harry, listen to me, I don't have much time."
I nodded, unable to do anything more, realizing I could not overcome this rift that spread endlessly to both sides up to the horizon, that was dyed in deep crimson red.
"Harry, I am dead. I am touched that you feel so much sorrow for my sake, for it tells me you loved me as much as I loved you, as I still do - and believe me, I would have it that we had more time together - if I could. Unfortunately, I am not granted this. But don't give your own life up on me. I've watched you, and I know you're slowly adjusting, now - don't ever feel guilty because of that. I wish for you to be happy, you know - only then can I leave to wherever I'm supposed to go next - I can already hear them calling my name... still, remember I will always be with you in the battle that is to come, I am sure this will be granted by whoever can decide upon that...
"You have to be strong, now, Harry, for yourself, and for my family, too - I've visited Ginny in her dreams, too, but she refuses to believe I am there, and turns away... and Mum..."
His smile disappeared for a moment, as grief was visible on his features, but returned seconds later.
"Goodbye, Harry... I love you, and always will."
Suddenly, he was standing before me, though I had not seen him cross the rift, and I felt warm lips on mine, felt arms encircling me... a last smile as we pulled apart, and he faded even more, until I could hardly recognize him, his touch was as soft and as ungraspable as the shallow wind around me.
And then, the misty figure seemed to thicken, to take on colour and texture again, but it was not Ron who stood before me in the mist that suddenly engulfed us, that hid the castle, the Hogwarts grounds and the rift, yes, even the ground I had to be standing on, from view. Long red hair, soft and unbound, falling over shoulders that were broader, and stronger, though the waist I was embracing was slimmer than Ron's, no longer Ron's soft blue eyes, but hazel eyes distorted with sadness, not Ron's arms encircling me, not Ron standing before me, but a figure that was taller, and leaner - Bill, who was smiling, despite the grief in his eyes.
It seemed natural to continue the earlier kiss, though it was not Ron before me but his brother, with whom I had shared the loss of the one dearest to me.
That was when I woke up to find myself in a bed, and though I knew not at once where I was, it suddenly felt wrong to be kissing this form before me, to be kissing Bill - and then I remembered.
I pulled back as if poisoned, hoping against hope that perhaps he was asleep - then his eyes opened wide, shocked, and my world was crushed to pieces as I realized what I had just done, as I tried to apologise, to tell him I had not wanted to... the words would not roll over my tongue, that felt as if plastered.
"I am not Ron, Harry."
Those words, after what I had dreamt, and it hurt so much to hear them...
"I am not Ron, Harry."
No, he wasn't Ron, but why did he not understand...
"I am not Ron, Harry."
No, he wasn't Ron, and I didn't know what had come over me, why I had dreamt of him, Bill. But I felt anger at this statement. I hadn't mistaken him for Ron, I knew the moment I'd woken that it was wrong, had to be wrong...
"I am not Ron, Harry."
And though I knew not what devil had ridden me to kiss him, I could not understand his harsh reaction. Did he think I was trying to find a substitute for my lover? Sure he must know that was impossible, just as it had to be impossible for him to envision his dead brother in anyone...
"No, you are not Ron."
But perhaps that was all he thought we were to each other? He, my substitute for Ron, and I...
"Neither am I."
And why had he woken these feelings of hate and guilt in me, when all it would have taken was a couple of seconds to let me explain, to let me apologise...
"Bastard."
There, the words were out, they couldn't be taken back, and though I did notice his hurt expression, I was too hurt myself to take pity on him, and retreated from his bed in anger.
My own bunk felt cold and empty, and I felt like crying, trying to will these things that had happened away, but unable to do so.
The rest of the night passed, and I was drifting in and out of sleep, but I did not dream again, and I knew instinctively that Ron would not come back to me... he had left me, now, and Bill and I had left each other, though we were separated only by a couple of metres, this distance seemed as impossible to overcome as the rift in my dream had been.
As the next day passed, I felt sorry about what I had said, and I wished to believe he was feeling sorry, too, but I could not bring myself to do the first step and apologise, so I spent the next night alone in my bed, that felt so cold and desolate despite the warm Egypt air.
As my lessons started again on Monday, I felt I had lost my will to fight, and Azhame was most unsatisfied with me. Surprisingly, he did not respond with his usual crankiness, but let me do the same things over and over again, hardly speaking a word, not of rebuff, and not of encouragement - so this was what he was like when he *really* was displeased with a pupil. I wanted to show him I was worthy of his tutoring, but I no longer felt the drive in me to do so, no longer felt I could change anything with these lessons, no longer felt anger or will to fight, but just loneliness and smallness, as if I was too tiny to bring about anything.
For two weeks, I had believed that even though Ron had left me I still wasn't alone, but now...
Of course, there were the people I'd known and cared for for years. There was Sirius, my godfather, with whom I'd been living every summer since the end of the fifth year of school, when his record was finally cleared. There was Hermione, whom I had known since first year, and who had always been a dear friend. There were many people I'd called friends, but they were all far away, and I could not envision myself sharing my pain about this with any of them.
Of course, there were the people I'd known and cared for for years. There was Sirius, my godfather, with whom I'd been living every summer since the end of the fifth year of school, when his record was finally cleared. There was Hermione, whom I had known since first year, and who had always been a dear friend. There were many people I'd called friends, but they were all far away, and I could not envision myself sharing my pain about this with any of them.
Bill had been the only one I could share my feelings so openly with, partly because he was just as hurt as I was, partly because everyone else was living their own life, far away from Egypt, and partly because... I didn't know what else, though I felt there was more to it, I couldn't place my finger on it, and wasn't sure I wanted to.
I wished then that I could at least feel anger at him, as I had that night, but I could not, I could not bring myself to feel much at all except for a sudden emptiness I didn't wish to examine more closely, least it bring forth things I did not wish to know.
I my heart, the answer was hidden somewhere, but my heart had fooled my once, in my dream, how could I ever trust it again?
By Reija Linn
Harry
I could not understand, as much as I'd tried, what exactly had transpired that night.
I had been dreaming of Ron, again. I was at Hogwarts, behind the broomshed, where he and I had first admitted our love to each other - and I was alone. But my surroundings were different than I remembered them, though unmistakably I was within Hogwart's grounds. Before me, the earth was broken, as if by a huge earthquake, a large crack in the earth, as deep as nothing I had ever seen before - I could not see the ground, but I could hear something rumbling down there, a moaning sound, but so evil I could feel no compassion for whatever creature it was that was trapped in there.
Behind me, I could see the school building, enclosed in swirling blue, white, red and green lights, as if a magical battle was being fought there. Above my head, there were swarms upon swarms of owls, brown, white, grey, even one or two of the rare black-feathered ones. In the distance, a raven's scream could be heard, and I felt tears on my own cheeks, tasted salt as they fell from my lips to the ground and down the hole in the earth that seemed to go to the very core of the planet.
And suddenly, I saw Ron standing before me, though we were parted by the rift, and try as I might, I could not cross it for it was so wide. And Ron just stood there, almost translucent, as a spirit or ghost - which he probably was - though not silvery like the ghosts I had known at Hogwarts, just... paled, somehow devout of colour... lifeless. He just stood there, not even trying to come across to my side, smiling a smile wiser and more knowing than I had ever seen him smile while he was alive, as though he could see things i could not.
"Hello, Harry."
"Ron!" I screamed, in terror that he might leave me, but he merely continued to smile at me.
"Harry, listen to me, I don't have much time."
I nodded, unable to do anything more, realizing I could not overcome this rift that spread endlessly to both sides up to the horizon, that was dyed in deep crimson red.
"Harry, I am dead. I am touched that you feel so much sorrow for my sake, for it tells me you loved me as much as I loved you, as I still do - and believe me, I would have it that we had more time together - if I could. Unfortunately, I am not granted this. But don't give your own life up on me. I've watched you, and I know you're slowly adjusting, now - don't ever feel guilty because of that. I wish for you to be happy, you know - only then can I leave to wherever I'm supposed to go next - I can already hear them calling my name... still, remember I will always be with you in the battle that is to come, I am sure this will be granted by whoever can decide upon that...
"You have to be strong, now, Harry, for yourself, and for my family, too - I've visited Ginny in her dreams, too, but she refuses to believe I am there, and turns away... and Mum..."
His smile disappeared for a moment, as grief was visible on his features, but returned seconds later.
"Goodbye, Harry... I love you, and always will."
Suddenly, he was standing before me, though I had not seen him cross the rift, and I felt warm lips on mine, felt arms encircling me... a last smile as we pulled apart, and he faded even more, until I could hardly recognize him, his touch was as soft and as ungraspable as the shallow wind around me.
And then, the misty figure seemed to thicken, to take on colour and texture again, but it was not Ron who stood before me in the mist that suddenly engulfed us, that hid the castle, the Hogwarts grounds and the rift, yes, even the ground I had to be standing on, from view. Long red hair, soft and unbound, falling over shoulders that were broader, and stronger, though the waist I was embracing was slimmer than Ron's, no longer Ron's soft blue eyes, but hazel eyes distorted with sadness, not Ron's arms encircling me, not Ron standing before me, but a figure that was taller, and leaner - Bill, who was smiling, despite the grief in his eyes.
It seemed natural to continue the earlier kiss, though it was not Ron before me but his brother, with whom I had shared the loss of the one dearest to me.
That was when I woke up to find myself in a bed, and though I knew not at once where I was, it suddenly felt wrong to be kissing this form before me, to be kissing Bill - and then I remembered.
I pulled back as if poisoned, hoping against hope that perhaps he was asleep - then his eyes opened wide, shocked, and my world was crushed to pieces as I realized what I had just done, as I tried to apologise, to tell him I had not wanted to... the words would not roll over my tongue, that felt as if plastered.
"I am not Ron, Harry."
Those words, after what I had dreamt, and it hurt so much to hear them...
"I am not Ron, Harry."
No, he wasn't Ron, but why did he not understand...
"I am not Ron, Harry."
No, he wasn't Ron, and I didn't know what had come over me, why I had dreamt of him, Bill. But I felt anger at this statement. I hadn't mistaken him for Ron, I knew the moment I'd woken that it was wrong, had to be wrong...
"I am not Ron, Harry."
And though I knew not what devil had ridden me to kiss him, I could not understand his harsh reaction. Did he think I was trying to find a substitute for my lover? Sure he must know that was impossible, just as it had to be impossible for him to envision his dead brother in anyone...
"No, you are not Ron."
But perhaps that was all he thought we were to each other? He, my substitute for Ron, and I...
"Neither am I."
And why had he woken these feelings of hate and guilt in me, when all it would have taken was a couple of seconds to let me explain, to let me apologise...
"Bastard."
There, the words were out, they couldn't be taken back, and though I did notice his hurt expression, I was too hurt myself to take pity on him, and retreated from his bed in anger.
My own bunk felt cold and empty, and I felt like crying, trying to will these things that had happened away, but unable to do so.
The rest of the night passed, and I was drifting in and out of sleep, but I did not dream again, and I knew instinctively that Ron would not come back to me... he had left me, now, and Bill and I had left each other, though we were separated only by a couple of metres, this distance seemed as impossible to overcome as the rift in my dream had been.
As the next day passed, I felt sorry about what I had said, and I wished to believe he was feeling sorry, too, but I could not bring myself to do the first step and apologise, so I spent the next night alone in my bed, that felt so cold and desolate despite the warm Egypt air.
As my lessons started again on Monday, I felt I had lost my will to fight, and Azhame was most unsatisfied with me. Surprisingly, he did not respond with his usual crankiness, but let me do the same things over and over again, hardly speaking a word, not of rebuff, and not of encouragement - so this was what he was like when he *really* was displeased with a pupil. I wanted to show him I was worthy of his tutoring, but I no longer felt the drive in me to do so, no longer felt I could change anything with these lessons, no longer felt anger or will to fight, but just loneliness and smallness, as if I was too tiny to bring about anything.
For two weeks, I had believed that even though Ron had left me I still wasn't alone, but now...
Of course, there were the people I'd known and cared for for years. There was Sirius, my godfather, with whom I'd been living every summer since the end of the fifth year of school, when his record was finally cleared. There was Hermione, whom I had known since first year, and who had always been a dear friend. There were many people I'd called friends, but they were all far away, and I could not envision myself sharing my pain about this with any of them.
Of course, there were the people I'd known and cared for for years. There was Sirius, my godfather, with whom I'd been living every summer since the end of the fifth year of school, when his record was finally cleared. There was Hermione, whom I had known since first year, and who had always been a dear friend. There were many people I'd called friends, but they were all far away, and I could not envision myself sharing my pain about this with any of them.
Bill had been the only one I could share my feelings so openly with, partly because he was just as hurt as I was, partly because everyone else was living their own life, far away from Egypt, and partly because... I didn't know what else, though I felt there was more to it, I couldn't place my finger on it, and wasn't sure I wanted to.
I wished then that I could at least feel anger at him, as I had that night, but I could not, I could not bring myself to feel much at all except for a sudden emptiness I didn't wish to examine more closely, least it bring forth things I did not wish to know.
I my heart, the answer was hidden somewhere, but my heart had fooled my once, in my dream, how could I ever trust it again?