Chapter 4
Harry walked back to the corner where his family was gathered. The remaining Weasleys were huddled together, holding hands or hugging, sharing in their mutual pain.
Somewhere inside Harry, the glib humor that had been with him all night died. The full weight of his condition came crashing down on him as he watched these people comfort one another. What was he, really? Not dead, for his mind and spirit were very much present. But not alive either, denied even the simple luxury of another person's touch. Better to be away from those he loved, than to watch as they wept with nothing but words to offer them. He watched his sweet Romilly brushing tears away from Hermione's face and struggling to hold her own in check, and Harry longed to wrap his arms around her. Rage took the place of his grief.
Damn him, Harry thought. What more can I lose to him? How many people are miserable tonight because of him? I'll kill him! A small voice at the back of his mind answered. You've already had your chance...twice. And this time you don't get another shot. Harry sighed, feeling more helpless than he ever had.
Everyone was yawning by now and looking longingly at the cots. Hermione was hardly able to walk, finally being hit by the enormity of the night's losses, so Romy guided her to a bed and covered her with a thick woolly blanket. Hermione let out one more sob and immediately drifted off to sleep. Romy sank into a cot herself and rolled so she was facing away from Harry. He could see her shoulders shaking and he crouched behind her.
"Romy? Can I...?" A loud sniff cut him off.
"Harry, can you just leave? It's so hard to see you like this...it would be better if you'd just go and let me sleep. Maybe in the morning it'll be..."
Harry's heart sank and he quickly left the hall. As he drifted up the stairs, Mrs. Norris stopped in front of him. A familiar flopping sensation went through his stomach.
"Shoo! Damn cat! No! Don't run for Filch, stupid animal! I'm supposed to be here!" The dust colored cat dashed off and Harry was sorely tempted to go after her before she got to Filch. Avoiding that bloody animal had become second nature while he was a student at Hogwarts. He quelled the urge to hide in a closet and continued in the direction of Dumbledore's office.
Before he'd gone another fifty feet, Nearly-Headless Nick popped out of a wall and stopped dead in his tracks, gaping at Harry.
"Harry! You're – "
"Yes, I know. New and improved Glow-in-the-Dark Potter," he interrupted glumly.
Nick let out a little chuckle, but quickly turned serious again.
"Well, this is certainly the last thing I would have expected. I'd have thought you, of all people, would have the courage to go on after it was over." Nick frowned thoughtfully.
"Courage had nothing to do with it," Harry snapped. "I wasn't done here. There were so many things left to do, so much I needed to finish..."
"That's what we all said," Nick countered honestly. "I wasn't still around for selfish reasons, oh no. I was still needed, dammit! But it all came down to the same thing. I was too afraid of the unknown, so I lingered in a place where I'm good for nothing except a conversation piece. It took me two hundred years to realize that, and by then it was too late to undo what I'd done. I'm stuck here for good, Harry, and you will be too if you don't stop lying to yourself."
"Aren't I already stuck here?" Harry glowered at the floor, cut by Nick's candid words.
"It doesn't matter right now. You'll just have to figure out what to do while you're here." Nick tipped his hat to Harry and drifted back through the nearest wall.
Harry rolled his eyes. As if I hadn't had enough reality checks tonight. He shot through the ceiling and headed for the roof. At least there would be no one to bother him there. He'd go see the headmaster later.
He burst out of the castle into the cool night air. Well, he assumed it was cool. He couldn't feel the wind, or smell the scent of dry leaves and wet earth that came with November. He couldn't taste the crispness of the breeze. It was like being...well, dead.
The autumn sky was as clear as ever, but the stars didn't seem as bright. I guess that's what comes of being deceased. Harry sighed to himself, perching on the edge of the roof. He thought of all the times he had come up here with Ginny.
"Don't sit on the ledge!" she would say. "You'll fall and kill yourself." Part of that had been true, he guessed.
"Don't sit on the ledge, Harry." A voice from behind him broke into his memories. "You'll fall and...well, that's a moot point now, isn't it?" He turned and saw Ginny standing a few yards away, smiling faintly.
"Hey Gin," he said distractedly. She came and sat next to him, peering warily over the edge.
"I think I see why you used to like it so much up here," she declared, swinging her legs over the edge. "It's really nice. You can really breathe."
"Breathing isn't really an issue for me anymore," Harry spat bitterly. Ginny raised an eyebrow at him.
"Oh, so you've moved on to self-pity, have you? I think I liked the guilt better."
"If anyone has a right to feel sorry for himself, it's me." Harry's voice came out sounding sour and childish and he flinched at the tone of it.
"So you messed up. So you let yourself get talked into playing the hero again. So what? There's more that you can do besides sitting on the roof playing your sad little song." Ginny stared at him with challenge in here eyes.
"Oh yeah? Like what? I was only good for my skill with a wand, and now I can't even hold one!" Harry shouted angrily. "I can't do anything to help, so what was the point of staying here?" He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.
Ginny treated him to her coldest glare. "You're smart, Harry. You always have been, even if you still don't believe it. There's so much that you're capable of that doesn't require a physical body. All you have to do is stop telling yourself that you're useless."
Harry almost smiled at the stark contrast between her words and Nick's.
Admit that you're useless before it's too late.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself and help where you can.
He could try to help, and if that didn't work out, he'd go back to feeling sorry for himself.
"Go to bed, Gin," Harry said quietly, glancing at her shivering frame. "I'll see you at the meeting." She nodded and got off the ledge quickly.
Harry passed the rest of the night on the roof, wondering if he was permanently incapable of sleeping, or simply not tired.
Harry walked back to the corner where his family was gathered. The remaining Weasleys were huddled together, holding hands or hugging, sharing in their mutual pain.
Somewhere inside Harry, the glib humor that had been with him all night died. The full weight of his condition came crashing down on him as he watched these people comfort one another. What was he, really? Not dead, for his mind and spirit were very much present. But not alive either, denied even the simple luxury of another person's touch. Better to be away from those he loved, than to watch as they wept with nothing but words to offer them. He watched his sweet Romilly brushing tears away from Hermione's face and struggling to hold her own in check, and Harry longed to wrap his arms around her. Rage took the place of his grief.
Damn him, Harry thought. What more can I lose to him? How many people are miserable tonight because of him? I'll kill him! A small voice at the back of his mind answered. You've already had your chance...twice. And this time you don't get another shot. Harry sighed, feeling more helpless than he ever had.
Everyone was yawning by now and looking longingly at the cots. Hermione was hardly able to walk, finally being hit by the enormity of the night's losses, so Romy guided her to a bed and covered her with a thick woolly blanket. Hermione let out one more sob and immediately drifted off to sleep. Romy sank into a cot herself and rolled so she was facing away from Harry. He could see her shoulders shaking and he crouched behind her.
"Romy? Can I...?" A loud sniff cut him off.
"Harry, can you just leave? It's so hard to see you like this...it would be better if you'd just go and let me sleep. Maybe in the morning it'll be..."
Harry's heart sank and he quickly left the hall. As he drifted up the stairs, Mrs. Norris stopped in front of him. A familiar flopping sensation went through his stomach.
"Shoo! Damn cat! No! Don't run for Filch, stupid animal! I'm supposed to be here!" The dust colored cat dashed off and Harry was sorely tempted to go after her before she got to Filch. Avoiding that bloody animal had become second nature while he was a student at Hogwarts. He quelled the urge to hide in a closet and continued in the direction of Dumbledore's office.
Before he'd gone another fifty feet, Nearly-Headless Nick popped out of a wall and stopped dead in his tracks, gaping at Harry.
"Harry! You're – "
"Yes, I know. New and improved Glow-in-the-Dark Potter," he interrupted glumly.
Nick let out a little chuckle, but quickly turned serious again.
"Well, this is certainly the last thing I would have expected. I'd have thought you, of all people, would have the courage to go on after it was over." Nick frowned thoughtfully.
"Courage had nothing to do with it," Harry snapped. "I wasn't done here. There were so many things left to do, so much I needed to finish..."
"That's what we all said," Nick countered honestly. "I wasn't still around for selfish reasons, oh no. I was still needed, dammit! But it all came down to the same thing. I was too afraid of the unknown, so I lingered in a place where I'm good for nothing except a conversation piece. It took me two hundred years to realize that, and by then it was too late to undo what I'd done. I'm stuck here for good, Harry, and you will be too if you don't stop lying to yourself."
"Aren't I already stuck here?" Harry glowered at the floor, cut by Nick's candid words.
"It doesn't matter right now. You'll just have to figure out what to do while you're here." Nick tipped his hat to Harry and drifted back through the nearest wall.
Harry rolled his eyes. As if I hadn't had enough reality checks tonight. He shot through the ceiling and headed for the roof. At least there would be no one to bother him there. He'd go see the headmaster later.
He burst out of the castle into the cool night air. Well, he assumed it was cool. He couldn't feel the wind, or smell the scent of dry leaves and wet earth that came with November. He couldn't taste the crispness of the breeze. It was like being...well, dead.
The autumn sky was as clear as ever, but the stars didn't seem as bright. I guess that's what comes of being deceased. Harry sighed to himself, perching on the edge of the roof. He thought of all the times he had come up here with Ginny.
"Don't sit on the ledge!" she would say. "You'll fall and kill yourself." Part of that had been true, he guessed.
"Don't sit on the ledge, Harry." A voice from behind him broke into his memories. "You'll fall and...well, that's a moot point now, isn't it?" He turned and saw Ginny standing a few yards away, smiling faintly.
"Hey Gin," he said distractedly. She came and sat next to him, peering warily over the edge.
"I think I see why you used to like it so much up here," she declared, swinging her legs over the edge. "It's really nice. You can really breathe."
"Breathing isn't really an issue for me anymore," Harry spat bitterly. Ginny raised an eyebrow at him.
"Oh, so you've moved on to self-pity, have you? I think I liked the guilt better."
"If anyone has a right to feel sorry for himself, it's me." Harry's voice came out sounding sour and childish and he flinched at the tone of it.
"So you messed up. So you let yourself get talked into playing the hero again. So what? There's more that you can do besides sitting on the roof playing your sad little song." Ginny stared at him with challenge in here eyes.
"Oh yeah? Like what? I was only good for my skill with a wand, and now I can't even hold one!" Harry shouted angrily. "I can't do anything to help, so what was the point of staying here?" He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.
Ginny treated him to her coldest glare. "You're smart, Harry. You always have been, even if you still don't believe it. There's so much that you're capable of that doesn't require a physical body. All you have to do is stop telling yourself that you're useless."
Harry almost smiled at the stark contrast between her words and Nick's.
Admit that you're useless before it's too late.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself and help where you can.
He could try to help, and if that didn't work out, he'd go back to feeling sorry for himself.
"Go to bed, Gin," Harry said quietly, glancing at her shivering frame. "I'll see you at the meeting." She nodded and got off the ledge quickly.
Harry passed the rest of the night on the roof, wondering if he was permanently incapable of sleeping, or simply not tired.