Chapter 2. Grasping Reality

I must have sat there; sobbing over Harry's limp body for at least ten minutes before rational thought started to take over.

I didn't know what to do. What had happened? Who had killed him? Was it safe to scream, call everyone, and wake them up?

Whoever had done this could still be here. A big part of me wanted only to sit there with Harry and cradle him in my arms. I would have given anything and everything to swap places with him.

"Ginny?" A small voice made me look up in surprise. This could not be real. A boy with Jet-black hair and bright green eyes was staring right back at me with his wand lit. He stuttered as he spoke, swallowing a few times as he stared at my tearstained face.

"Ginny t-that's not me…" I could hear him say. I wanted to believe it… I wanted to believe with all my heart… but it couldn't be… Or could it?

It was real enough; the body I was cradling could not be Harry… because Harry was standing right in front of me.

I stared at him for a while. Was this all a dream?

Then I remembered something - Voldemort… the Death Eaters had escaped earlier in the day!

Suspicion overtook me. Someone must have killed Harry… perhaps the killer had used Polyjuice Potion to make himself look like Harry. Did he really expect to get away with it? Did he really think that we would not recognize the real Harry from a fake? Was Voldemort really that stupid?

My mind was working overtime, and I could barely hear the killer's voice as he spoke. It seemed distant, and somehow far away…then I realized - he was going to murder me too! I felt so helpless without my wand that I half expected to drop dead out of fear. Another few minutes and he would raise his wand… finish me off… I was going to join Harry.

Suddenly it did not seem such a bad thing, dying. At least I would be with Harry. Then, with a pang of guilt I thought of what I would leave behind. My family… I could never do it to them. I would not just lie down and give up. No, I was going to at least try.

I sobbed hysterically, scurrying to my feet. Adrenaline was pumping through my body. I was so angry and upset that I knew I was capable of accidental magic. Maybe if I could channel my anger into getting my wand, I thought desperately. So I concentrated on my wand as hard as I could, letting the rage I was feeling take over. And sure enough, it zoomed down from my room, landing neatly in my hand. The impostor seemed as stunned as I did, but he did not voice his opinion. He seemed weary that I now had a wand to defend myself with.

I knew I wasn't supposed to practice magic as an under age witch, but in a life or death situation I didn't think anyone would care. I raised my wand and glared at the impostor warningly.

"You. Killed him!" I screamed, hoping to scare him away in fear of waking the whole house.

"No, Gin… You've got it all wrong - " He stammered, but raised his wand in defense anyway.

"Murderer!" I didn't want to listen… I didn't want to hear what he had to say for himself. I knew the tears were streaming down my face and that made me mad because I looked weak, which made me an easy target. I tried to control myself but to no avail. I only managed to feel hopeless.

"No, Ginny! Look, it was a Bog - " He was now raising his voice.

"NO!" I was furious. How could he just stand there and lie even though it was obvious I knew who he was? He was not going to finish me off after all, was he? Well then, if he wasn't going to start it - I would!

"Stupefy!" I screamed, but I was too slow. Just a fraction before the spell was cast I felt my wand leave my hand as I was blown back by the force of the impostor's 'Expelliarmus'. I hit the wall and ended up slumped on the floor. I tried to get up but the world was spinning and my head was soaring with pain. I could taste blood in my mouth.

"Ginny, sorry… are you alright? I didn't mean to...it was just reflex - it's me, Harry!"

"No, get away from me!" I screamed desperately. My heart was racing so fast I almost expected it to explode. Using the wall for support I got to my feet and turned toward the killer once more. Now I could hear footsteps from above. The boys were up, and by the sounds of it they were making their way down. Thank God!

This seemed to have distracted the killer too, and as he turned his attention toward the stairs I reached out and grabbed my wand.

"Ginny! NO! It's me! I don't want to hurt you - it's alright!" He had noticed my move and was closing in on me again with his own wand clutched in his hand. His eyes were startlingly bright in the semi-darkness, and he seemed to be gritting his teeth, obviously surprised at the fight I was putting up.

I was struggling to stay upright, but backed away anyhow, trying desperately to think of a spell.

"Accio wand" The killer said, before I had the chance to hex him and once again I was unarmed. I felt weak. How could this be happening? I was the youngest daughter in a family full of boisterous boys, a feisty Gryffindor - I was supposed to be able to take care of my self! I tried to scream, to tell that fucking murderer that he had no business here, and that he was not going to kill me.

But all that came out was a muffled sob. The embarrassment I felt was almost as intense as the immense hate I was radiating towards this intruder.

At that very moment another voice cut through the fighting, this time from behind me.

"Riddiculus!" A voice that I recognized as Lupin's cried.

The limp body that I had taken to be Harry disappeared and instead I saw a silver orb in it's place, then that disappeared too.

An unimaginable weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I felt as though I could breathe again. Harry was alive. He was not dead. Everyone was safe…It seemed almost too surreal to be true. The dead body of Harry had been a Boggart.

A BOGGART! My mind screamed. Ginny Weasley, you idiot!

After that everything seems like a blur. I can only half remember collapsing in tears of relief, and being engulfed in someone's arms. I recall being helped back into bed surrounded by worried voices, feeling relieved but in pain, all I could say was something along the lines of;

"Harry… he's fine… Harry… Harry… It's all fine… Safe…" and can remember someone stroking my hair as I lie there numbly, before finally falling asleep.

xxxx

"How is she?" My mum's worried voice brought me back to consciousness although I did not bother to open my eyes. I felt awfully groggy and my head was thumping. Slowly I started to remember the events of last night.

"She cried herself to sleep last night." Harry's voice sounded tired.

My mum let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a sob.

"Oh - it's this awful… this horrid house!" She cried suddenly, then seemed to sober up slightly. "Sorry, Harry dear… did you want to go and get some breakfast? You look like you haven't had a wink of sleep all night. Remus said it was best if you were the one to stay with her. Sometimes I don't understand that man." She sounded both angry and confused. I knew instantly that she had not been told what my Boggart had been.

"Okay" Harry said, and I felt the mattress on my bed rise a few inches as he got up. A moment later I heard him leave the room.

A part of me wanted to run after him and hold his hand all day and night so I could keep him safe from harm. But I knew that was not what he wanted, and even if it was I wasn't sure whether I'd manage to get up quickly enough. The persistent thumping in my head was a reminder of Harry's spell that had hit me - the reason why I had been so disorientated after the fight.

Come to think about it - we practiced magic underage! Why wasn't the ministry sending us owls and expelling us? Slowly I opened my eyes. The room was dark, as the curtains were drawn - for which I was grateful. I don't think my head would have handled bright light. Mum was putting covers on the bed next to me - the room had two beds, one of them meant for me, the other for Hermione. When Hermione had decided to sleep in her parent's room I hadn't bothered to make the other. So who was mum preparing the bed for? She wasn't going to sleep in with me was she? That would just be so embarrassing! I wouldn't hear the end of it… The twins would never let me live it down;

Little Ginny had a 'moment' last night so mummy's going to look after her incase she has any more nightmares…

I struggled to shake the annoying voice out of my head. At that moment mum turned and saw me staring at her. She rushed over and placed her hands on my shoulders as I sat up - as if I was an old lady falling apart. She really knew how to overact didn't she?

"Ginny, darling… Are you all right? Remus told me what happened - something about a Boggart?"

"Yes, It was Harry." I said in a quiet voice. I didn't want her to fuss.

"What do you mean Harry? You're not scared of Harry are you dear?" She let out a little nervous laugh.

"No. My Boggart was Harry - Dead."

Her face went ashen. She avoided my gaze and stuttered a little - "Y-you know, everything is going to be all right. Nothing will happen to anyone whilst we're here. It's safe, Ginny."

Something about her voice was not comforting. It was as though she was trying to convince herself as opposed to me. I smiled weakly as she smoothed my duvet. Then I remembered something.

"Mum, we did magic out of school…"

She looked at me and smiled.

" It's all right Ginny, Dumbledore placed a special field around this house. No-one can track our magic here - but it doesn't mean you can use magic whenever you want, though!" She added when she spotted my hopeful face.

"Who are you making the bed for?" I asked, changing the subject quickly.

Please don't let it be her, please not her…not her… A voice inside my head pleaded. I really did not want to be mollycoddled by my mother right now.

"Harry will be sleeping here - you don't mind do you? Only, he said he found it difficult to sleep what with Fred's snoring… and this house, Ginny… It's awful for him to have to come back here. Remus thought it would be a good idea if he stayed with you anyway…"

I smiled in approval. This was going to be perfect! Harry, sharing a room with me? I felt dizzy with the thought of it - or was it just the nasty bump I had received last night that was making me giddy?

I didn't really care. Either way, I was halfway to heaven. I only half heard my mother's ramblings as I got dressed and tied my hair into a loose ponytail. Pulling out a couple of strands at the front I gingerly walked downstairs, mum following behind me as if to make sure I got down all right.

As I stepped in to the kitchen, the scene was almost exactly how I imagined it. All heads turned toward me with expectant looks upon their faces. Some of them looked slightly worried.

"I'm fine." I said simply as Ron raised his eyebrows at me. They all carried on staring so I rolled my eyes and sat down next to Harry.

"Really, seriously - it's was nothing… just a Boggart. Pass the cereal."

As I began wolfing down the cereal the others relaxed. Apparently, a healthy appetite is the sign of a healthy person (as my mum so often explained). The kitchen once again filled with chatter, and I smiled.

Under the table, Harry placed his foot on mine and pressed. He did so again… and again… until the fifth time, when I looked at him with slight annoyance. And he grinned.

xxxx

That night we both laid in our own beds, Harry's wand illuminating the room. Harry was reading a Quidditch book whilst I was busy revising the healing properties of Hail Feather-potion. After a while, my eyes began to tire and I shut the book. That was quite enough revision for one day - soon I'd be pouring over books just like Hermione if I didn't watch it! And besides, Potions was one of my best subjects, despite my severe dislike for Professor Snape. The feeling seemed to be mutual. During my first year when I was overtly 'head over heels' with Harry, he had used every excuse he could to torment me.

I lost interest in the subject for a while, especially when I began losing sense of time and place, being manipulated by the memory of Voldemort. That year my grades really did not reflect my ability, so I studied hard over the summer and started my second year with more knowledge than anyone else in our year did. I became so good at Potions that Snape started having a difficult time picking on me. I would feel smug after his lessons, and I would actually - although I hated to admit it - look forward to his lessons.

Before long I was also excelling in Defence against the Dark Arts with Professor Lupin, who had actually admitted to me that I was well capable of NEWT standard spells. A few weeks later I overheard him talking to Professor Dumbledore on their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. I had felt slightly guilty about ear wigging their conversation, but since it was about me, I didn't think it was really that bad.

"…Yes…I see what you mean. She does seem to show great potential…" I had heard Dumbledore say as he glided down the last set of stairs to the Hall with Lupin by his side explaining fervently.

"It makes perfect sense. Harry is connected to Voldemort, you know that. And he shows great skill in the subject, far beyond his peers. Ginny is much more skilled in Defence than she should be at her age. This could only mean one thing - Voldemort manipulated her, and a part of him must have…" He had trailed off as Dumbledore stopped abruptly, gesturing Lupin to stop.

"Perhaps, Professor Lupin, we should continue this somewhere more private, at some other time… away from prying ears?" He'd said, turning slightly so I caught a glimpse of the half-amused expression upon his face. For a second I thought he had seen me, hiding behind an old statue nearby, and I had gritted my teeth in expectation. Lupin had glanced around too, before the pair had continued their way to the Great Hall talking in light-hearted voices about the weather.

I had not dared to go to breakfast that morning, or lunch for that matter.

I sighed, thinking of Professor Lupin - he had been a much better teacher than Umbridge. Even the fake Moody had been better than that toad, I thought bitterly. I smoothed my duvet distractedly then looked over in Harry's direction to see whether he was still reading, but found him staring at me with a look upon his face that I could not quite decipher.

"Ginny…" His voice was soft but slightly hesitant. "I-I'm sorry for hurting you last night."

It was me who had tried to hex him - he'd just been defending himself! I couldn't help but smile. His messy hair stuck up uncontrollably just like it always had. The green duvet accentuated his eyes, although I couldn't help but think of Slytherin when I saw the shade of the covers.

"It's ok. It was my fault. I thought you'd been killed… and that whoever had done you in was impersonating you or something."

"It's ok, we're both sorry." Harry compromised as I yawned. The events of last night had obviously made me tired, and a whole day of pretending to be fine had also worn me out. I blinked a couple of times, my eyes feeling puffy.

My attention was drawn back to Harry's duvet… green like Slytherin. How strange that Harry was to sleep in them. After all, didn't Slytherin represent everything he fought against?

I was just about to ask Harry if he could ever be a friend with a Slytherin, when something surprised me. Harry extinguished his wand and the room darkened. A minute later I felt his weight on my mattress. I shifted up a little to make room for him but he didn't lie down. He just sat, but moved his hand to my head. Stroking my hair slowly, he spoke.

"Lie down like you did last night. I won't go to bed until you're asleep." He muttered as he carried on stroking my hair. I noted distractedly that his voice had deepened by about an octave since the last day of term. I followed his instruction, lying down with a tired sigh. He carried on stroking my hair as I closed my eyes. The pillow smelled of lavender - something mother had put on in to help me sleep.

"Umm...Thanks." I mumbled sleepily.

I had to admit that his touch was relaxing, and it made me feel sure that he was there and in no trouble. Something amazed me, though. I was surprised that now that I finally had him so close, he did not actually do anything for me - in the sexual way. I mean, it felt great having him there, feeling his closeness and gentle touch, but it really did not set off the butterflies in my stomach.

I knew I loved Harry. But I was finally beginning to understand the type of love that I was feeling. It was more like brotherly or friendly love than the sort of love one feels for a boyfriend. Perhaps this was what the Boggart had sensed. Of course someone was going to be afraid of losing a close friend - whether that person be romantically attached to the other, or not.

With these thoughts milling around my head it took a while for me to find sleep. When I was finally drifting off I felt Harry place a soft kiss on my forehead.

Thank You for the lovely encouraging reviews - they made me smile! Any other tips, anyone? I know this story can be improved. Tell me how, and I shall do my best!

Also, please tell me if there are any frequent spelling or grammatical errors. I beta my own work… so I'm bound to miss some things! :o)

Thanks - Sara x