Chapter Six: Inside the Pensieve
Ginny's mind buzzed with the warding spells Dumbledore had given her to learn. Her hand moved in the familiar patterns she had traced out just that morning, willing herself to memorize them. The Latin fell out of her mouth, and it seemed to her adrenaline-rushed mind that she could see the words puddling on the floor in front of her, glowing with power. Swish, flick, snap, flick. Her wrist bent at the odd angles she had forced upon it, and her nerves screamed at her to get on with it and finish, but her brain reminded her of the exact tempo Dumbledore was taking.
Somewhere at the fringes of her consciousness, Ginny noticed Ron staring, dumbfounded, at his sister who seemed, overnight, to have become quite a powerful witch. Good, thought her mean little voice. Maybe he'll finally realize I'm not just his little sister anymore.
Ginny could also see Hermione's lips moving slowly, as if she, too, were trying to learn the spells by heart.
And complicated spells these were. Not simply the basic wards to prevent random passersby from entering the Pensieve, and those to bring luck, courage, and quick thinking to the spellcasters, but spells to prevent her from bringing back anything that didn't belong in the waking world. Although it was rare, it had happened--Nicholas the Nosy had died from bringing back a demon from one of his own nightmares. While the demon couldn't hurt anyone in the Pensieve, Nicholas' own fears had given it a life of its own when it had returned with him. And who knew what sort of horrors Harry might be dreaming of? Considering his reactions to the Dementors--whose presence made Ginny remember her nightmare of the Chamber--she didn't dare imagine.
Ginny forced herself to pay attention to Dumbledore, who was beginning to trace out the finishing pentagram on the floor of the hospital.
"Finis," said Dumbledore finally.
"Finis," Ginny added, and at the pentagram surrounding the Pensieve and Harry's bed flashed once with a bright blue-white light, then started pulsating gently.
"It is ready. Professor Snape, the potion, please?" Ginny thought she heard Dumbledore's voice tremble, just for a minute.
"Headmaster." Snape handed over a small vial to Dumbledore, who took it and held it up to the light. "It is complete?"
"Of course, Headmaster," replied Snape, his voice still dripping venom.
"Miss Weasley?"
Ginny gently took the vial with trembling fingers. She had to do this, had to go through with it. She couldn't back down, not now. There was no way she was going to let Ron say to the school, "I knew it, she's too young, she can't handle it yet," or let Cho crow her superiority over the small Gryffindor girl. This was Harry she was helping, Harry whose face had appeared in her more--imaginative--dreams ever since she was thirteen, Harry whose voice she imagined as she fantasized each night. Harry who was supposed to save the bleeding world! And, to be honest, Ginny rather thought that she could be remembered as The Girl Who Saved The Boy Who Lived. But only if she got control of herself and took the potion.
She uncorked the vial and held it up to her nose. It smelled strongly of dragon's blood--she remembered the argument between Snape and Pomfrey and wondered briefly what he had been talking about. Weasleys? A documented reaction to dragon's blood? No time to wonder right now.
"You'll want to drink it in one gulp, if you drink it at all," said a voice quietly from somewhere to her left. It was Snape, and the acid in his voice brought her back with a jolt. So Snape thought she couldn't go through with this, did he?
Ginny upturned the vial and drank, and the world suddenly went inside out.
Ginny blinked, trying to clear her head, but the world stayed firmly in two pieces. She could see everyone watching her expectantly. She turned her head and could see Ron muttering something in Hermione's ear, but she could also see him wrapping his arms around her protectively, and Hermione cuddling into his shoulder. Then she remembered what Dumbledore had said--two world visions, one real, one not. But was she seeing their subconscious or hers? It didn't matter.
The Pensieve she told herself firmly. Find the Pensieve.
It seemed to have disappeared. The part of her that was aware of the original world remembered it being on the bedside table--but the bedside table wasn't anywhere near her... wait--was that it? She walked toward the Pensieve-shaped thing, and tipped her nose into it, but the sensation was hollow, like touching a ghost. It wasn't the real one. Damn.
She walked toward Dumbledore and started talking, "Professor, I can't see it..."
And two versions of him spoke:
"It's Don't worry on the child, you table don't have behind do you this"
Ginny blinked, sorting out the double messages. Don't worry, child, you don't have to do this stayed with her for a long moment, then she made out, "It's on the table behind you," and turned around.
The Pensieve was glowing, an indescribable conglomeration of colors and shadows. She supposed it was Harry's thoughts. She stepped over to it, touched her nose to it, and fell.
She kept falling, falling, until she found herself on her feet, in the grass, in a graveyard. There was no-one there at the moment. It was quite warm, quite dark.
Then there was a faint pop! as two people came into view at her feet: Harry and Cedric... Cedric! Cedric Diggory? Tri-Wizard Tournament, Ginny realized.
"Where are we?" said Harry, lying down on the ground, looking battered and bruised. Ginny realized that this must have been just after the two of them had reached the Cup at the center of the maze.
Cedric shook his head. Ginny's throat caught--to see him alive again!--as he pulled Harry to his feet. The two of them stared around at the place they'd just landed.
"Did anyone tell you the Cup was a Portkey?" Cedric asked.
"Nope," said Harry. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?"
"I dunno," said Cedric nervously. "Wands out, d'you reckon?"
"Yeah," said Harry.
The two of them pulled out their wands, and waited, tensely. "Someone's coming," he said suddenly.
Ginny turned to look where they were watching, and suddenly saw present-Harry watching the scene as well.
"Go back," he muttered hoarsely. Ginny could see his eyes were red and his face pale, and he was far too skinny. "Dammit, Harry, you fool, run, go back, tell Cedric to hide..."
Behind present-Harry Ginny could see a figure approaching, carrying a bundle in its arms. Then the figure stopped, not six feet from them, and Harry crumpled to the ground, clutching his scar.
Then the high, cold voice spoke: "Kill the spare."
A swishing noice and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Avada Kedavra!"
Ginny screamed aloud as she watched the memory of Cedric Diggory fall to the ground beside Harry, who was still clutching his scar.
Present-Harry suddenly noticed her. "Ginny?" he asked. Then he shook his head. "You can't be here... you're just a dream, nothing real..." He turned away from her, deaf to her protestations. "You fool," he was saying to himself, lying on the ground. "It's all your fault he died. You brought him along, you convinced him to take the glory with you..."
"No!" shouted Ginny. Around them a horrific scene was playing out: the strange figure in robes had tied Harry to the headstone and was now pushing a cauldron into the clearing. A gigantic snake circled the grass around the headstone.
Harry turned to her. "You're not real," he said shortly. "Go away. Leave me to my own hell." He put his back to her and crossed his arms.
Ginny stared in disbelief at Harry as the scene changed, shifted to another night.
They were standing in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Ginny could see Harry and Ron--no Hermione? sitting down for breakfast. Everyone was very subdued, and Ginny suddenly realized that Harry and Ron couldn't be older than twelve--this must be her first year. And there she was, walking over to the Gryffindor table, pale and trembling.
Was I really that thin? part of her asked.
Ginny moved closer to her younger self, suddenly remembering when and where she was. This was when she'd realized that she was the one attacking all those people, that Tom Riddle was nothing more than an evil creature.
"I've got to tell you something," mumbled her younger self, rocking back and forth on the bench.
"What is it?" said Harry.
When Ginny didn't respond, Ron chimed in, "What?"
Younger-Ginny's mouth opened, but she didn't speak. Ginny remembered how very afraid she'd been, afraid that Harry would turn her in to Dumbledore, or that she'd be expelled and sent to Azkaban. But she'd so wanted to tell someone. Anything was better than knowing you were being possessed.
Harry leaned forward and spoke quietly. "Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?"
Then, exactly as it was in Ginny's memories, Percy came striding up, asked for her seat, and she fled.
Beside her, Ginny heard present-Harry saying, "Why didn't you follow her, you idiot? She could have told you what was going on, and then she never would have been taken to the Chamber--she nearly died, you fool!" The emotion in his voice was strong.
Ginny never knew that Harry had cared so much. She thought that he'd only done it for Ron.
Before she could get too carried away with remembrances and rumninations, a little voice in her head reminded her that she was supposed to be getting Harry out of these nightmares.
She grabbed his arm as the scene changed. "Harry!" she shouted. "Harry, I am real! I've come to take you back..." But her voice trailed off as the next scene formed. Her arm dropped from Harry's.
They were once again at Hogwarts, and it was nighttime. Ron, limping, and Professor Lupin--this must my second year--had a small balding man chained between them, and they were followed by Professor Snape, who was unconscious and being levitated by none other than Sirius Black. Black? The convict? The man who had killed twelve Muggles with one curse and was now thought to be hiding in Iran? But there was Harry, right behind him, accompanied by Hermione.
"One wrong move, Peter," said Lupin, in the most threatening voice Ginny had ever heard him use, pointing his wand at the bald man's chest.
A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight, and Ginny suddenly remembered Snape's words at breakfast two years ago... "Lupin forgot to take his potion last night; I suspect he was with the other werewolves in the forest last night..." Ginny could recall all too clearly the silence that had fallen over the Hall as Snape gazed, unperturbed, at the shocked group of Slytherins he was talking too. "Oh, you hadn't figured it out yet? I would have thought any students in my house would have known ages ago..." And then the babble of talk had broken out to cover the awkward moment, and everyone became fascinated by the eggs and bacon in front of them.
"Oh, why didn't you kill him?" she heard Harry beside her. Who was he talking about? she wondered silently.
Ginny could hear Black yelling at Harry to run, but Harry was trying to get at Ron, who was chained to Lupin--then Black transformed. He's an Animagus she realized, recognizing the huge black dog that had been around the grounds that year.
Lupin was snarling as he transformed. It was horrible to watch. The huge dog bounded forward, seized the werewolf about the neck and pulled it backwards, away from Ron and the other man. They fought, jaw to jaw.
Then Hermione screamed, and Ginny saw the strange man grab Lupin's dropped wand and stun Ron with a bang. Another bang, and Crookshanks, whom Ginny hadn't seen at first, went flying through the air, hissing and spitting, and landed in a heap.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, and the wand flew out of the stranger's hand. "Stay where you are!" Harry yelled, running forward.
Then the man disappeared, and Ginny realized he, too, was an Animagus. Scabbers? Ginny recognized the rat. This was getting stranger and stranger.
Ginny watched, completely at a loss, as Lupin went howling into the forest.
"Sirius, he's gone, Pettigrew transformed!" Harry yelled. Pettigrew? Ginny thought, then remembered the other name... Peter Pettigrew? Why is that familiar? Wait, didn't Mum tell me some stories when I was little...? But her memories refused to cooperate. She focused on the images.
The dog, who had been lying on the ground, bleeding and panting, scrambled up again and disappeared into the forest.
"You fool," Harry said to Ginny's left. Ginny turned, and remembered her mission. It was hard, she realized, to keep track of what was real and what wasn't.
"Harry, you have to come with me. We need you at Hogwarts!" she said urgently.
"No, you're not real!"
The scene changed again, and Ginny realized they were back in the graveyard. So they were recurring! This meant that it should work! "Please, Harry!" she implored. "Why would I appear in your dreams?"
"You always do," he said, matter-of-factly.
Ginny felt rather flattered, but quickly thought the better of pursuing that line of conversation.
"But I'm not usually telling you to come back with me, am I?"
But Harry wasn't listening. He was watching his memory self and Cedric scramble up from the Portkey to look around.
"Harry! Pay attention!" Ginny shouted.
Harry ignored her, tears forming again.
Ginny realized how painful this must be, constantly being forced to relive the memories of things that hadn't gone right. Three very specific memories of moments that could have gone so differently if he'd just done something else... She watched, incapable of acting, as Cedric was killed yet again.
The scene shifted to the Great Hall.
"Harry, please, what can I do to convince you it's me?" Ginny asked desperately.
Harry just shrugged and watched her younger self rock back and forth on the bench.
"I remember this one, too, Harry," she said. "I remember being so afraid that you'd be angry with me and never think of me as anything but a stupid little girl... and I couldn't let Percy know, since he'd tell Mum and Dad, and then I'd be taken home for sure..." She knew she was rambling, but she had to keep talking. Maybe it would distract him.
The scene shifted.
"Tell me about this, Harry," she said. "Even if I'm not real, it won't hurt to talk to someone, will it?"
Noot looking at her, Harry began to tell, in an expressionless voice, the story of how he, Ron, and Hermione had gone down to see Hagrid before Buckbeak's execution, but then they'd found Scabbers, who'd run into the Willow--
"Scabbers? Ron's old rat? Is that who the man turned into?" she asked.
Harry finally turned to her and looked at her. "Yes," he said shortly, looking into her eyes for a moment. "You might be my Ginny," he finally conceded. "But I can't be sure, so I can't trust you."
Okay, Ginny thought. He may be going crazy, but it's a start.
"Tell me more," she said.
So Harry continued to tell about how the dog had grabbed Ron and taken him to the Shrieking Shack--
but then the scene changed back into the graveyard.
"No, Harry!" Ginny cried as Harry stopped talking. "Don't watch it again! It'll only drag you in further!"
With a visible wrench, Harry turned to her as if seeing her for the first time. "Ginny?" he asked, in a small voice, which cracked with tension.
"Yes, Harry," she said softly. "It is me."
"I can't be sure..." he mumbled. "It's all so dream-like."
"It is a dream, Harry. You're trapped inside your own mind--reliving memories." Now we're getting somewhere, she thought.
"So tell me more about Sirius Black," she said, realizing that she needed to keep him distracted.
"Oh, so Snape came into the Shack with my invisibility cloak, and then we stunned him--me, Ron, and Hermione--and then Lupin and Black performed a spell to show Pettigrew--Sirius Black's innocent, by the way..."
Ginny no longer understood much of what he was saying, but at least he was talking. She gently took a hold of his elbow. Maybe, she thought with a sudden insight, I can keep him talking to me and steal him back... It was a definite possibility.
"You see," Harry was saying, "Peter Pettigrew actually killed all those Muggles. Sirius was completely innocent--and he wasn't my parents' Secret-Keeper, either, that was Pettigrew--and Pettigrew had been staying with you Weasleys as Scabbers for twelve years. Lupin and Sirius made Pettigrew turn back from his rat form to his human form, and he told us that he'd been on Voldemort's side, and they wanted to kill him right then and there..." Harry trailed off, watching the rat run into the forest. "And it's my fault they didn't, my fault he was able to get away..." he choked.
"No, it isn't!" said Ginny, not really knowing what she was talking about.
"But I told them not to!" he cried, sobbing on her shoulder. "And then Wormtail was able to run into the forest, and get to Albania, and find Voldemort..."
"Wormtail?" Ginny asked. At least he was looking at her now.
"Nicknames they had when they were all at Hogwarts--Moony, that's Lupin--Padfoot, Sirius--Wormtail, Pettigrew--and Prongs, my father..." he trailed off again, as the graveyard reappeared.
"And there's Wormtail again," he said, pointing at the cloaked man. Then he seemed to come to himself with a shudder. "These are recurring, aren't they?" he asked Ginny.
Ginny could have sobbed with relief. She nodded.
"Are you really my Ginny?" he asked in a small, uncertain voice.
"Yes, I'm your Ginny," she said, her throat dry.
"Then take me home," he said, childlike, holding his arms out to her.
Ginny held him close and wished them up, up, back into the real world.