Harry Potter and the Mysteries Within

Chapter Six – There's Something About Ginny

A/N - I know, there's not been much action, but believe me, its coming soon, give it a chapter or two...

"Harry?" Hermione's worry-filled voice drifted up the stairs from the landing below.

"I'll be down later, I'm not hungry," Harry called. When he heard the retreating footsteps of Hermione, he sighed and rolled over onto his side.

Several hours passed and the bedroom gradually grew darker. Harry had been here all afternoon, since Dumbledore had left. He couldn't face the looks of pity and worry that everyone seemed to be giving him. For the twenty minutes that Dumbledore had been at the Burrow earlier, Harry had found it increasingly difficult to look up from the piece of floor that he was staring at – he couldn't make eye contact with anyone because if he did, they would see just how much of an effect this news was having on Harry. The Dursley's had been attacked… and Harry had now added them to his list. He hadn't told anyone that he kept a list, and he was sure that he never would, but he had a list alright. His mum and dad, Neville's mum and dad, Cedric, Sirius, Mr Weasley, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna amongst countless others, had been hurt – or worse – because of Harry.

Harry knew that the Dursley's were the worst kind of family anyone could ever wish on another person – but they were still family. They were ordinary (if that was how to describe them) muggle people who should have had nothing to do with the wizarding world. But Harry had dragged them into it, and now they had paid the same price that everyone else he associated himself with had. They had become a victim to Voldemort.

He was only just 16, but he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and at this point in time, coming towards the end of August, Harry felt that he couldn't go on living. Just how could he justify his own pathetic excuse for a life when all around him people he knew and (for the most part) loved, were falling, simply because they had a link with 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'?

He hadn't eaten since that morning and his stomach growled occasionally in protest. But he wouldn't be going downstairs whilst there were other people there. He would have to wait until the morning to eat. Harry picked up a book that was on his bedside table and started to thumb through the pages, hoping to distract himself from his own thoughts for a minute or two. But it was no good. Not even Quidditch Through the Ages could distract him now.

His anger rising, he threw the book powerfully at the wall, where it collided with a loud thud and fell to the floor. Harry threw his head back down onto his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. He remained like this for the rest of the evening, only closing his eyes when he heard Ron coming up the stairs and into the room. Harry was still fully clothed and not under the covers, so Ron must have known he was still awake. Ron got changed into his Pyjama bottoms and got into his bed without saying anything to Harry; he had learned through experience when not to talk to Harry and now was one of those moments. Harry silently thanked Ron for giving him the space he needed, and remembered that through all the negative things in this world, he still had his friends. Eventually he fell into a restless sleep.

Harry awoke some time later, to be greeted by Ron's familiar loud snores. It was still dark outside, and the moon was just setting on the hills beyond Ottery St. Catchpole. He had somehow managed to sleep without dreaming, which considering his emotions at the moment, had to be some sort of achievement. He looked at the clock on the bedside table, and it glowed 2.23am. Harry turned over, wondering how his left arm had found its way out of his t-shirt. He closed his eyes again, hoping to get some more sleep, when his stomach gave a rather alarming growl and Harry realised he was still very hungry. Resigned to not getting more sleep until he satisfied his stomach, Harry rose from his bed and made his way down the four staircases, hoping that nobody would still be awake at this time of night.

He reached the bottom of the stairs that opened up into the kitchen and walked over to the stove where, as he knew she would, Mrs Weasley had saved him some dinner from last night. Although it was only two-thirty in the morning, Harry was so hungry that he didn't mind eating the full roast dinner that she had worked so hard to prepare for the previous day. When the plate of food had been heated in the oven, Harry sat down at the kitchen table and began to eat. He was half way through his meal, and was just about to place a rather large portion of Yorkshire pudding into his mouth, when he thought he heard an almost inaudible sniff come from the den in the next room. He waited a few seconds, and when the sound didn't return he continued eating. He finished his midnight feast and washed up in the sink, and then made his way back to the stairs. Harry was just starting to climb when for the second time he heard it – although this time it was very much clearer, so clear in fact that Harry knew who the gentle sound belonged too.

Harry turned around and went into the den, where the only light came from the near-extinguished embers of the fire. Sitting on the overly-cushioned couch and staring out of the window at the silhouette of a distant oak tree, illuminated from behind by the setting moon, was Ginny. She was dressed in only her night dress, which suggested to Harry that she too had awoken in the night. That is, if she had gotten any sleep at all. In the faint light Harry could see the tears falling down her soft cheeks, falling onto her bare arms that hugged a cushion tightly.

"Ginny?" Harry said uncertainly.

Ginny shifted in her seat, let go of the cushion and wiped furiously at her eyes, hoping that Harry couldn't notice the tear stains. No use really though, Harry had seen her cry and seen her wipe away the tears. "How do you do it?" she asked, as if Harry would know what she was talking about without questioning her.

"How do I do what?" he asked softly, and sat down beside her. He drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, suddenly feeling cold.

"How do you cope with everything that you have to cope with, and still get on with everyday life? Harry, I can't even cope with what you have to go through, and it's not me living it, is it?"

"Ginny..." Harry started, with every intention of telling her that he didn't want to talk about it. He sighed, thinking what he should say. Part of him didn't want to talk about it, ever. But there was also another part of him that was telling Harry that he needed to talk, and there was no-one better than Ginny to talk to. "Ginny, does it look like I'm coping at the moment?" he said, wondering if that was what he wanted to say. It sounded a bit harsher than he wanted, Harry thought.

"No, not really" she began. "But you always pull through, don't you. With everything that you've been through, living with those prats, being told your mum and dad were murdered, having people injured and… and killed around you, you're still this great guy who cares probably way too much for the people around you. With everything you've been through, it's a wonder you're not more like Malfoy." She said the last part quickly, and once she had re-thought what she had just said, Ginny realised how un-sensitive it must have seemed. "I'm sorry Harry, ignore that last part. I just can't help feeling sorry for you. I know, you hate that, but it's hard for me not to. We all worry about you, especially at times like these." She stopped and wiped away the fresh tears that were now falling down her cheeks.

"Sometimes I don't know how I cope either," Harry said with a small, forced laugh. "It's like I have this huge weight on me, people keep dying because of His plans for me. And there's nothing I can do to stop it. Not yet anyway..." he trailed off. "But Ginny, what you said to me the other day, about not blaming myself for everything – you made me realise that this isn't my fault. It's all Voldemort and his death eater minions fault. But it's still hard, you know. Sometimes I still think it is my fault, because if I wasn't here then nobody would be dead. My mum and dad would still be around. Sirius would still be alive. Your dad wouldn't have been attacked; you and everyone else wouldn't have been hurt…" Tears had started to form in Harry's eyes now, and Ginny still had trails of tears running down her cheeks.

"I'm not going to tell you this again Harry Potter," Ginny said with more force than before. "Yeah, the world would have been different, your right. Tom would probably be the ruler of the world, a hundred times more people would have been murdered, and I wouldn't know you… and I can't think of a world without you, Harry. It's because of you that Tom disappeared for thirteen years. We all know that you're the innocent party in all of this; we know that you didn't ask for it. Just remember that."

Harry didn't know what to say. Everything she said was true of course, but he had no idea how she alone had the power to make him see sense. If it had been Hermione talking, he would just get more frustrated at her insistence that he read a book to calm down, or talk to Dumbledore about it. Ron, well Ron wouldn't force him to talk about it, which was a good thing, but it still meant that he wouldn't be able to let go of some things. It was no good keeping everything locked up inside, he knew. But with Ginny, even if he didn't want to talk about things, he always ended doing just the opposite, and it always made him feel much better.

"You know, I forget sometimes that you've been through a lot yourself" Harry said.

"Yeah. Now that you've remembered, do you think that you might now understand that I know what it's like to have Tom in your head, and I know what you must feel like, putting your friends in danger, even though it wasn't your fault. I did the same thing too. I put you and the rest of the school in danger, but it wasn't my fault. Tom had put some sort of Imperius curse on the diary, and I was under his control for half of my first year."

"So we have been kinda in the same boat for quite a while then" Harry said.

"Guess so" said Ginny. "And you know, seen as though I'm so highly informed on the matter, if you need to talk Harry, I'm here for you. But be warned, I'm not afraid to put you in your place when you start acting like a giant prat and hiding away from us again. Were all here for you, and there's no getting away from us!"

"I kind of noticed that…no matter how much I want to be depressed, someone always comes and pulls me out of it…" Harry said, half jokingly.

They sat in silence for a minute, both staring out of the window, though Harry glanced at Ginny a couple of times. Now that his anger and self-pity had been pushed from his mind, Harry couldn't help but notice that even though she had been crying, and her hair was a little frizzy from tossing and turning in bed, Ginny still looked very attractive, bathed in an almost complimentary orange-red glow from the fire. He also couldn't help but notice that her nightdress had ridden up her legs a little, revealing her slim, slightly toned legs. He looked at her neck and saw the golden necklace that he had gotten Ginny for her 15th birthday last week. The memory of her reaction to the present made him smile fondly.

The whole of the Weasley family (without Percy obviously) had gotten together for a special dinner for her birthday. Luna Lovegood and Neville had also been invited, them being amongst Ginny's best school friends. Hermione had still been on holiday at the time. After the meal, the presents had been given to Ginny, and after Luna had given hers (a years subscription to The Quibbler) Harry had presented Ginny with the gold necklace. There was nothing extravagant about it, Harry thought, it was just a plain gold chain with a small Egyptian style, cat-shaped gold pendant. But Harry had noticed Ginny's eyes water slightly as she accepted the gift, and she had become quieter for the remainder of the night. Harry didn't know why, the chain didn't seem too bad to him; in fact he thought it looked rather nice. And it did suit her. Maybe it was because she didn't like cats, he thought. But then again, Ron had told him that she loved cats, and that is why he had chosen the cat design from the muggle jewellery catalogue had had ordered it from.

The next day however, Ginny had been back to her normal self, and if anything their friendship had moved up yet another notch. Harry had yet to see Ginny without the necklace on. She had thanked him again that night for the necklace. She said it was the best present she had ever received from a friend. But the most remarkable thing about that night, the 12th August, wasn't that Ginny had thanked him again for the present. It wasn't even the fact that they were sat outside alone on the porch again, for this had happened several times during Harry's stay at the Burrow. No, the most remarkable thing about that night was that Ginny had kissed Harry. Not a full on snog Harry had thought later while over-analysing the situation, as he often did, his smile increasing in strength – he hated that word, snog... But still a kiss and still on the lips – not the cheek. 'Maybe that's why our friendships got so much better' Harry thought. And he had suddenly had the urge to run upstairs to his room, get his Firebolt, fly to Hogwarts, take Professor Dumbledore's Pensive, put that one particular memory into it and re-live it. Over and over again. Or even better… just repeat the kiss sometime soon…

And now that they were alone, sat in front of the fireplace at such an un-sociable time, Harry could think of no better time…

"Harry?" Ginny said. She was no longer looking out of the window, but straight at Harry. How she had managed to get so close to Harry without him noticing was anyone's guess.

"Yeah?"

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"Believe me, you don't want to know," he replied.

But Ginny did want to know. She couldn't think of anything she wanted to know more of at this moment. For she had moved closer to Harry a minute ago, while he was obviously lost in thought. And when she had done so, she had noticed the smile that had come across his face. She couldn't help wondering that perhaps, against everything that she had been telling herself for years ('Harry just wants to be your friend. Accept it!'), that maybe Harry liked her as more than a friend.

End of Chapter 6

A/N – Right, to answer a question I'm sure your asking yourself. I know, I didn't tell you what happened to the Dursley's. And that's because I'm evil… mwharrr. Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough…

Coming soon…Diagon Alley

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