Chapter Four: In Dumbledore's Office
Ginny had never been in Dumbledore's office--nor had Ron. Hermione took a seat with the grace of one who knew what she was doing, and Ginny quickly followed. Ron stood for a moment, awkwardly, before Dumbledore motioned him to sit.
"Lemon drop?" asked Dumbledore, holding out the bowl of sweets.
The three looked startled. "Er, no thanks, Professor," said Hermione slowly.
"Are you sure? I find that it helps me focus my thoughts, Miss Granger. Miss Weasley? Mr. Weasley?" He held out the bowl to the two of them, but they shook their heads.
"We had an idea, Professor--" Ginny began.
"Actually, it's Hermione's idea," said Ron, looking proud.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" promted Dumbledore.
"You see, sir, I thought--since Harry's in a coma but he's dreaming, maybe we could use a Pensieve to draw out his dreams--since dreams are similar to memories..." She trailed off a little uncertainly. "I was reading More Than You Ever Wanted To Know About Pensieves last week, since I was thinking of getting one for Harry for the memories from the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and it said that Pensieves can be used by a close friend or relative to transfer reoccurring nightmares. The spells involved were highly complex, though, and it emphasized the closeness of the friend"--she glanced at Ginny--"and the reoccurring nightmares."
"Ahh, More Than You Ever Wanted To Know About Pensieves," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "By Quillan Sopor, yes?"
Hermione nodded.
"I have found," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, standing up to go to the cabinet where his own Pensieve was locked, "that Quillan Sopor is not always complete in his research, although this particular usage I have never learned much about."
"So..?" asked Ron hopefully.
"So it is possible it could work, yes. However," and he held up a hand to stem their joy, "we do not know if Harry is experiencing a recurring nightmare, or if he is simply dreaming."
"Oh." Hermione's face fell.
"But I congratulate you on your intelligence, Miss Granger. Take twenty points for Gryffindor."
Ginny grinned at Hermione; Ron gazed in adoration at her.
"However, you three are out of bed after hours. While I appreciate you coming to me immediately with this idea, it could have waited until morning." He looked over the top of his half-moon spectacles at Ginny. "Miss Weasley, I would think that you would understand the dangers that Hogwarts Castle contains, especially after dark."
"Yes, Professor," Ginny whispered, shuddering at the thought of her first year.
"Now I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower and expect you in my office immediately after breakfast tomorrow."
Saturday at ten o'clock found the three of them standing in front of the gargoyle outside of Dumbledore's office, nervous.
"Do you think this'll work?" asked Ron, who was running his fingers through his hair.
"I don't know, Ron," said Hermione. "And stop fidgeting!" She grabbed his wrist as he threatened to run his hand across his scalp again. "Your hair's standing on end!"
"Don't fuss!" he retorted.
Ginny almost laughed out loud, watching the two of them act like a bickering married couple. She managed to reduce it to a choked giggle, but her nerves made her feel a little hysterical. They looked at her.
"Sorry, something in my throat," she lied. "Can we go in already?"
Hermione gave the password ("Sugar Quill!") and the gargoyle sprang aside to reveal the moving stone staircase they'd travelled up the day before.
"Ahh, Miss Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," said Professor Dumbledore as they entered his office. "Please, come in, have a seat."
They sat tentatively. Ginny took a better look around his office, having been particularly distracted last night. The office was round, filled with whirring contraptions, and bathed in soft light. All in all, it was quite comforting to be in. On a perch near Dumbledore's desk sat Fawkes, who flew over to perch on her shoulder.
"Hello, Fawkes," she said. "I never got to thank you for the Chamber incident..." she said, feeling a little foolish at talking to a bird. The bird just looked at her solemnly and inclined his head, as if to say, "My pleasure."
Ginny looked around to realize the other three were staring at her. "My mother taught me to be polite," she said, almost defensively.
"That's perfectly all right, Miss Weasley," said Dumbledore. "I find that Fawkes appreciates appreciation. Phoenixes are highly faithful pets, and I'm sure Fawkes will remember you."
Hermione cleared her throat loudly to draw attention back to their situation.
"Ah, yes. Mr. Potter." Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair, steepling his fingers. "I have re-read the book which you mentioned, Miss Granger, and I see no reason not to try it. However," he said to ward off their jubilation, "there are significant risks involved. It would be all too easy for the contact person to lose themselves in the Pensieve as well. Staying in too long can convince the person's brain that 'this is reality,' thus hampering the ability to return to the present."
They nodded their understanding.
Dumbledore looked at their three eager, expectant faces. "But who shall go?"
They looked at each other. "Well..." began Hermione, looking significantly at Ginny.
"Um.." said Ginny.
"A friend, right?" said Ron.
"A close friend or relative," affirmed Dumbledore. "Someone whom the person will accept and believe. Someone the person trusts with their life."
"Well, that'd be all three of us, I think," said Ron. "Can't we all go?"
"No," said Hermione. "We all can observe, the way a Pensieve works normally, but only one of us can actually interact with Harry."
"You two have known him longer," said Ginny, feeling a horrible sinking.
"Yeah," said Ron, oblivious.
"But--" said Hermione at the same time.
"But what, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked, as if he already knew the answer.
"But he's in love with Ginny," she blurted.
"What?" said Ron, suddenly the protective brother. "Ginny's just a baby!"
"Ron, I'm fourteen! I've been menstruating for two years already! I'm not a baby anymore!"
"But you're too young for a guy to fall in love with you!"
Ginny was about to explode when Dumbledore cut in. "As much as I understand your need to protect Miss Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Harry's life hangs in the balance. Madam Pomfrey has informed me that he is weakening. However, we need not--indeed, can not--decide this now. Firstly, we need an empty Pensieve, which must be ordered, and secondly, it must be prepared by the contact person no more than a day in advance. I would suggest the three of you talk seriously and choose quickly but without bias."
Ron looked dutifully abashed, Ginny looked relieved, and Hermione just looked annoyed.
"How long will it take to get the Pensieve?" she asked Dumbledore.
"We'll have by Thursday, Miss Granger," he replied. "I took the liberty of owling Hogsmeade this morning, but they informed me that they would have to special order it, rush, of course." In a much lighter voice, he continued, "Now, I believe the first Quidditch match of the season is on today--Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff? Why don't we go together."
The match went as expected--Hufflepuff's new seeker, while good, was no match for Cho Chang of Ravenclaw, now a sixth year and quite experienced. The Hufflepuffs also seemed to still be in mourning from the loss of Cedric, and their grief affected their game.
The week passed in jumps and starts. After the match, Ron and Hermione had gone off for a quick talk without Ginny. Ron came back looking mutinous and muttering, "We'll talk later," in a very stiff voice to Ginny. Hermione looked triumphant but distinctly ruffled.
"Don't be," Ginny said, as Hermione complained about Ron making her so angry. "I'm his baby sister. He protects me."
"But you shouldn't let him--" Hermione protested, but Ginny put an arm around her.
"It's not a big deal. He'll grow out of it."
But Ron didn't speak to Ginny until Thursday, when a large tawny owl delivered the Pensieve to the Gryffindor table at breakfast. When the package arrived in Ginny's lap, he simply gared at her, not saying anything.
Word had traveled quickly via Lavender-post (she and Seamus were still seeing each other, and Ron and Seamus were rooming together--Ron did talk) that something was happening to take care of Harry's condition, and that Ginny was now his girlfriend. "Madly in love with her" was the exact wording that Lavender had used, actually, and it made Ginny quite annoyed when people pointed at her in the corridor. Didn't they realize she had a lot to think about for Saturday? That she needed to prepare advanced level charms just to rescue a guy who had kissed her a few times?
Needless to say, Cho was not happy about it.
So when the large round package landed in Ginny's lap, the hall fell silent as everyone stared at Ginny. Then Cho spoke in a stage whisper to the girl next to her: "She's not that pretty--must be an easy lay."
Titters spread across the Ravenclaw table, and quickly to the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. Ron's internal battle to protect his sister suddenly broke, and he stalked over to the Ravenclaw table to confront Cho.
"Take that back, Cho," he snarled, aware that the teachers were all watching expectantly, Dumbledore having waved them silent.
"Take what back, Weasley?"
"Take back what you said about my sister!"
"Why? It must be true. Harry Potter wouldn't just go out with a poor girl, unless--" her expression changed to pure malice "unless he was doing it as a favor to you? You know, 'teach my sister the facts of life so that some other no-good pauper will want to take her?'"
Ron yelled, and reached for his wand at the same time Cho pulled hers out. There was a loud BANG as several spells were fired at once: Ron's Leg Locker Curse, Cho's Jelly Legs Jinx, and Dumbledore's, much louder than the rest, "Stupefy!" Cho and Ron both crumpled to the floor, and Professor McGonagall was suddenly right next to the scene, murmuring, "Ennervate!"
Cho and Ron sat bolt upright, shaking. "You two," said McGonagall crisply. "Come with me, now. At the very least you will both face suspesion. Miss Chang, I am thoroughly disappointed in you, and you Mr. Weasley, have shown a considerable lack of restraint."
"But--Professor!" gasped Ron, struggling to keep up. "She--she said--"
"I am perfectly aware of what Miss Chang said, Mr. Weasley. Now come along."
Ginny sat in the Gryffindor common room later that day, waiting to meet up with Ron and Hermione before dinner. Colin and Zoe were sitting near her, not talking, just offering their presence. She needed it. Her nerves were frayed and she kept jumping at small creaks and pops from the fire.
"You going to be okay doing this?" asked Zoe quietly.
"I hope so," said Ginny, barely trusting herself to speak.
"She'll be fine," said Colin warmly. "Top marks in Charms, right? Ever since you got your new wand and all."
Ginny grinned at him, remembering the trip to Diagon Alley earlier that summer.
"Fred and George have offered to buy me a new wand," Ginny told Hermione as they walked down Diagon Alley.
"Did they get their money back from Bagman?" asked Hermione.
"I guess so--only they seem to have an awful lot of money now. They gave me ten Galleons to buy it myself."
"That's awful nice of them."
"Yeah," said Ginny. "It's really weird, too. Normally they'd just give me a fake wand and call that a gift."
Hermione laughed. "Yeah, you're right. Want to go into Ollivander's? It's right here?"
"Would you mind--I don't mean to offend--but can I do this alone?" asked Ginny.
"Why?" asked Hermione curiously.
"I guess because I want it to feel special, and it's my first time really buying something for myself..."
"No, no, I understand. I'll wait for you at Madam Malkin's?"
"Sure."
Hermione left Ginny alone outside the dark door leading to Ollivanders. It creaked as she pushed it open, her eyes adjusting slowly to the dim light.
"Miss Weasley."
She jumped. No one had been there a minute ago, but there was Mr. Ollivander, standing but two feet from her, eyeing her.
"I recognize your hair--you look like Molly. It's Ginevra?"
"Um--yes, sir."
"But you're a little old to be buying your first wand?"
"Yes, sir." Ginny shuffled a little. "I used Bill's old wand for several years, my parents couldn't aff-"
"Ah, yes. Fudge is keeping Arthur back at the Ministry. I'd heard about that. Unfortunate. So you are here to purchase your very own wand. Excellent. Hold out your wand hand," he said as a tape measure flew up and began measuring the length of her right arm, around her hand, around her wrist and upper arm, and was about to measure between her nostrils when Mr. Ollivander clapped his hands and it clattered to the floor.
"Let's see, let's see... Miss Weasley, what's your favorite subject? Charms? Transfiguration?"
"Actually, History and Astronomy. And I like Potions," she said, almost defensively.
"Really? How curious. I'm sure you're aware, Miss Weasley, that the function of the wand is to both amplify and focus the magical energies directed at the subject," he continued, pulling boxes off the shelves. "Do you get good marks in Potions?"
"Yes, sir. Top marks," she couldn't help adding with a slight grin.
"And how about in Transfiguration? Charms?"
"I do well, sir, but they're not my favorites."
"And you're starting your third year?" Ginny nodded. "What are your electives?"
"My new subjects, sir? Arithmancy and Muggle Studies."
"Hm. Let me see your old wand."
Ginny passed it over.
"Willow and dragon heartstring, eight inches, quite flexible. I remember this one. Not powerful, but a strong focus."
"Mr. Ollivander--"
"Yes?"
"How does that work? How do the wands work?"
Mr. Ollivander paused to contemplate Ginny Weasley for a moment. "I do believe no one has asked me that since young Riddle was in here."
"Tom Riddle?" Ginny gasped. "He bought his wand from you?"
"Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew and phoenix feather. Very powerful."
Phoenix feather, Ginny thought. "So that's why his and Harry's wands connected at the duel? Because they share cores?"
"It is. A wand, as I mentioned, works to focus and amplify the wizard's energies. It is not necessary to have a wand for performing magic--as in Potions and Arithmancy. However, your appreciation of those subjects is probably due to the fact that your wand always feels sluggish when you perform a spell?"
Ginny nodded. "It works, but it feels as though I'm pushing the spell up a river. But how does the wand do that? Amplify and focus, I mean?"
"Every magical object has a resonance--I believe the Muggles call it a waveform in their quantum physics--and every human being has their own resonance. Different wand cores have different resonances, and it is these that focus your energy. The outer wood serves to amplify and project the spell by its physical properties as well as its own resonance."
"Wow."
"Here, try this one. Willow and unicorn hair, ten-and-a-quarter inches. Excellent for transfiguration."
Ginny waved the wand and it sputtered indignantly before engulfing them in a cloud of purple smoke.
"I don't think so, Mr. Ollivander," said Ginny, coughing.
"Then this--six inches, quite stiff, hornbeam and dragon heartstring."
This wand merely sat dead in Ginny's hand. "It doesn't even respond," she said. "It doesn't feel magical to me."
"Curious." He pulled another box out. "Let's try this. Phoenix feather and oak, seven inches, flexible."
As Ginny touched the wand, it felt like power engulfed her. The world shimmered in front of her for a moment. Wow, she thought. This feels wonderful. She waved it, and a fountain of sparks hung in the air for several seconds.
"You are the third person in the world, Miss Weasley, to own a wand containing Fawkes' phoenix feathers. But why would you have such a connection? For it is the wand that chooses the wizard." He searched her face.
Ginny didn't feel like explaining what had happened her first year, so simply muttered a vague "I'm not sure," paid her eight Galleons, and left, clutching the box to her chest, praying that her wand didn't expect the same of her that Harry's did of him.
Ginny's grades had improved with the new wand. It responded wonderfully, almost the way Harry had described his new Firebolt two years ago. Transfiguration and Charms had become two of her favorite subjects, now that she was good at them, and many people respected her for being top of the year, although nowhere near as good as Hermione was. Ginny got 100 percents, not 300 percents.
She looked up in time to see Ron coming through the portrait hole, McGonagall following.
Ron and Ginny looked anywhere but the other person's face for three seconds. Then Ron ran to hug her briefly, whisper, "Sorry about that," in her ear, and run up to his dormitory.
"Miss Weasley?" asked Professor McGonagall.
"Yes, Professor?"
"Miss Chang is waiting outside to speak with you."
Ginny got up nervously and crossed the common room to leave out the portrait hole. Cho was pacing the corridor, looking angry.
"Cho?" she asked tentatively.
Cho whirled, startled.
"You wanted to talk to me?"
"Uhh.. yeah." Her voice was quiet.
"Yes?"
"Um..." she took a deep breath and focussed her gaze on a spot six inches above Ginny's left shoulder. "I wanted to apologize for what I said in the Great Hall. I don't think that Harry is seeing you simply to sleep with you and it was entirely uncalled for." The words marched out as though she was repeating what someone else had said.
"Really." Ginny was not about to let Cho get away with such a weak apology.
"What do you mean, 'really'?" she snapped, glaring at Ginny.
"I just don't think that you really care about what you said to me. You want to have Harry to yourself, I know that. I told him I wouldn't get in the way."
"Hah!" snarled Cho. "You've been seeing him all over the school since term began! And he was at your house this summer!"
"So?"
The other girl seemed lost at Ginny's equanimity. She sputtered and stared.
"Look, Cho," said Ginny. "Harry's a nice, good guy, and all I'm trying to do is get him out of the coma. I need to focus on that, not on how much someone hates me for simply wanting to help him. I'm sure that Dumbledore would have let you do what I have to do, except that I know him better. We've been through more together--he saved my life when I was eleven, you know! Things like that form a very deep bond, Dumbledore says."
Cho was still stiff, but Ginny could see her upper lip trembling.
"I don't want you to be jealous of me," said Ginny softly. "I'm not jealous of me--I might not come back from this."
"What?" Cho clearly hadn't heard this.
"I could get stuck in there if something goes wrong," Ginny continued. "There's no guarantee that this will even work. I might just fall in with him."
"Oh! I didn't know--" Cho suddenly seemed small and helpless in her worry.
"Look, when Harry comes out of this, the three of us can sit down and talk it out, okay?"
Cho nodded, clearly about to cry.
"I'm going to bed then," said Ginny, turning to go.
"Good luck," said Cho.
As Ginny reached the Fat Lady, she noticed that that old witch, Violet, was visiting.
"Good for you, girl!" Violet said enthusiastically. "You tell her that he's your man!"
"Violet!" said the Fat Lady. "Keep it down! The other portraits will hear!" She looked at Ginny and winked. "If Harry doesn't fall at your feet after this, then I'm going to have a stern talk with that young man!"
Ginny blushed and entered the common room.
Author Notes: "Lavender-post" term is taken from The Fire and the Rose by Abby and Domina, at Witchfics.