When Nightmares Are a Good Thing

By Rhiane Raine

Chapter 25: Reflections of Red

Harry being a normal human being, found it very difficult to even pretend to still be sleepy after a nightmare like that. The memory of the Chamber of Secrets must have triggered something deep in his subconscious. His dream had been of various past events thrown into one big, terrible nightmare. It was barely past midnight but Harry crept to the bathroom, in need of a refreshing shower to take his mind off of the vivid details of his dream. Since it was the middle of the night, there was no rush to get to the bath or limit on how much time and hot water he could use.

Instead of heading back to his bedroom, Harry trekked down the stairs in his pajama pants- hair moistly tousled and his most recent Weasley sweater (it had been the first shirt-like clothing that his hand had grabbed in the dark of his room) hanging limply in his hand by his side, body still too warm from the shower to smother himself in extra articles of clothing. When he reached the drawing room, Harry stopped dead in the doorway. Ginny Weasley was already there, curled up at one end of the couch. For a moment that seemed to have been frozen, Harry simply stood there, watching the flames in the fireplace bathe the youngest Weasley in firelight that danced brightly across Ginny's face. The way the flicker of the flames danced a story in scarlet red was mesmerizing, when one was staring at the vibrantly colored hair of a Weasley. The bright orange hue that Weasley's hair usually seemed to be was different. Here in the dark- excepting for the fire that shone waveringly about the room- Ginny's long red strands seemed to be darker, reflecting crimson and tiny bits of ginger much like the light does when glancing off of a stained glass mirror.

The many reddish shades of Ginny's hair were all that Harry could see for a moment as he stood there in the doorway, his hair dripping gently onto his shoulders every once and a while. After what must have been five or ten minutes, Harry realized by the stiffness in his legs that he'd been standing there for a while. He shifted slightly and cringed when the unfamiliar floorboards creaked underneath him. Ginny's head snapped around to see what had caused the noise. She sighed in relief at seeing Harry, who grinned sheepishly at Ginny for having scared her.

Ginny turned back to the fire having said nothing. Harry was just about to turn and go thinking that perhaps Ginny wanted to be alone with her thoughts when she said softly, "Was it Tom?"

Startled, Harry walked a bit closer to the couch.

"What do mean? Tom?"

"Nightmares," Ginny said simply.

"Oh. No. No it wasn't Tom. Not tonight."

"Oh."

Still slightly mesmerized by the look of Ginny Weasley in the fire light, Harry jumped when Ginny quietly asked he was going to sit down.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Together they simply sat there, enjoying the fire and thinking the thoughts that were keeping them both awake.

"Was it Tom?" Harry asked. If she had thought to ask Harry if Voldemort had been giving him nightmares, then maybe she had had one, resulting in her own insomnia.

"Yes," was all the answer he received.

Harry looked over at her. "You get them often?" he asked seeing that she didn't look practically unnerved by it.

"Just memories of the chamber and sometimes a warped version of how things could have turned out, you know, if you hadn't of saved me. Sometimes you…"

"Sometimes I what?" his curiosity was piqued.

"Die," Ginny whispered. She hugged her arms around her legs even tighter in her little spot on the sofa.

At that moment the only thoughts Harry had were of ways to make Ginny more comfortable. Without even realizing it, Harry had presented Ginny his Weasley sweater to make her warmer. It was when she put it on that Harry was slightly embarrassed at having done something like that without thinking about it. The red head smiled mildly at him when the jumper swallowed her whole. The arms bunched up around her tiny wrists leaving only from her knuckles down exposed. Were she to stand Harry thought the article of clothing would reach mid thigh. Emotion poured out of a dam inside of Harry. She was so small, so beautiful, so…innocent looking that Harry suddenly felt as if he would do anything to protect her, anything to see her smile. This was why he was suffering like he was. To save her and all the others like her from having to experience what he himself had to go through to achieve peace.

"Harry?" Ginny asked questioningly.

Harry smiled at her, his new thoughts about her were very confusing but he was happy just to sit and look at her for now. He'd figure out his feelings later.

"Yeah?"

"If it wasn't Tom…"

He cleared his throat and glanced away. "It was just a few recollections of my past. Yeah, I guess it was Tom, in a way. He was the one trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. He opened the Chamber, and he's the evil dark lord who came back to life in a graveyard. He also…"

Across from him Ginny nodded in understanding, a pink blush stretching across her cheeks at having been caught staring at Harry's bare chest. He too blushed as he remembered that he'd come down here after a shower, not dressed properly as he hadn't been expecting anyone else to see him

They lapsed in silence once again. He was thankful that she wasn't going to try to get him to say that he was dreaming about bad experience that still haunted him as anyone else would have tried. Instead the peace between them was soothing him in a way he hadn't ever felt before. It was simply comfortable to sit on the sofa with Ginny, no words required. Every now and then one of them would offer a thought on what they were thinking, the other giving a reply. Not all of the talk was serious. Some of the things were actually quite silly. Once Harry had interrupted the silence to ask Ginny if she thought Snape practiced his glare in the bathroom mirror as a morning ritual. She had replied that he most likely made himself do "death stare drills" at night and even mimicked him.

…"One hundred thirty three…one hundred thirty four!" all the while glaring into space for a moment before relaxing her features. Suddenly she would narrow her eyes and count higher. Harry laughed so hard at her impression and the image of Snape doing just that, that he rolled off of the couch with his sides aching from his laughter. Ginny joined in too after finishing with number "Five hundred!" Both of them would smile and laugh unexpectedly at odd moments after that.

He was beginning to see how nice it was to be in Ginny Weasley's presence. She never forced him to speak of anything she knew he was uncomfortable with, but yet she urged him when he needed help getting certain things out in the open.

At one point, Ginny was giggling at something Harry had just said. A strand of her long red hair had slid from her shoulder into her eyes. Harry reached over and brushed it away. His hand stroked her cheek as he swept it back. Her laughter stilled as she looked back at him, both staring into each others eyes. The moment was thankfully broken as Ginny shivered.

"Are you still cold?" Harry asked. He was confused as to how she could be so cold in the middle of summer, sitting in front of a fire while wearing a large sweater.

"Oh, um, well the chamber nightmare always leaves me with the chills."

That made much more sense as Harry knew exactly what she meant. His own dreams had the same effect from time to time. He always woke up shivering in a cold sweat after the graveyard.

The rustle of Ginny's arm moving across her bare legs to create friction drew Harry's attention to the goose bumps that were present. Feeling as if he were about to dive into very unfamiliar territories, Harry stretched his arm out as he arranged his features into a look of sincerity. Surprisingly, Ginny scooted over to him. She fitted perfectly under his arm with her back against his chest. They sat like that for a while until Harry's back got stiff. Gently he leaned back against the armrest of the sofa, surprised that she went along with him rather than tense up.

It was odd enough to be half lying on a couch in only his pajama pants with Ginny Weasley resting against him wearing his Weasley sweater but when the thought stuck him that he had somehow managed to do all of this without making her mad or Hermione having to tell him how, it became surreal. Wasn't it only February when he hadn't even known whether or not he was supposed to hold Cho's hand or not? But tonight, with Ginny, he had accomplished much more without even meaning to. It wasn't until after he'd already done it that he even realized that he had wanted to. The change was unbelievable. Had he matured without knowing it or was it just easier to be with Ginny.

Neither of them went to sleep during the early hours. Instead they continued speaking of this and that as they had been, the only change was their new position on the couch that enabled them to touch.

Dawn set before their very eyes, brilliant shades of pink streaked the highlighted morning sky while the stars grew faint and hard to distinguish. The fire still crackled comfortingly as they watched in awe of the beauty before them. Harry had seen the sun rise many times before but for some reason this sun rise was the most beautiful out of them all.

"What time do you reckon it is?" Harry asked as he shifted the arm that Ginny lay against.

"Dunno," she replied while leaning up to allow him some circulation. "but I think we ought to get back into our beds before someone wakes up and wonders. I like to avoid the questions about what kept me up all night."

"Yeah," immediately Harry agreed. It was never fun to explain it to someone who didn't understand nightmares. The looks of pity were never welcome either. Not to mention the fact that Ginny had several family members in the house that would beat him to a pulp if they were caught lying together on the couch in their current state of dress.

Together they departed from the comfortable room and tip toed their way across the house, pointing out to each other spots in the floor that would make noise. When they reached the doors of their room, Harry's luck at knowing what to do seemed to have run out. He was certain that he should say something sweet or at least polite but no words came to mind. After keeping a girl warm all night were you expected to make some sort of a gesture or did Ginny not think it necessary of him? Hermione had said she was over him but…

He was spared from his moment of indecision, thankfully, by Ginny.

"I'll return your jumper sometime when it's not keeping me warm, if that's okay."

He couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, it was the first shirt I grabbed after I took my shower. Feel free to it. Right now you need it more than me anyway. "

There was an awkward moment of silence where both of them stood there, hands on their door knobs, neither making a move to suggest staying or going. Finally, Ginny sighed and disappeared behind the door to her and Hermione's bedroom.

Harry stood there for several moments after he heard the door click shut. Finally, he opened his own door and entered his own room. It wasn't as if he could sleep now but standing outside of the girls' room was not a good place to be found in the wee hours of the morning with only half of his clothes. Instead, of sleeping Harry took this time to write down last nights dream into his journal. He opened it up to where he had left off the last time he'd had a strange dream. Thoughts of the conversations he'd had with Ginny kept popping in, interrupting his writing. Several inkblots adorned the pages before he's finished. Since when had Ginny not been shy around him? Since when had he been comfortable enough around her to offer his arm and clothes in order to keep her warm? It was very confusing to Harry, a completely new territory in which he knew nothing about. His first instinct was to talk to Hermione but a nagging notion at the back of his mind told him not to. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't want anyone else to know about he and Ginny's newly found friendship. Ron would most likely jump to conclusions and accuse Harry of fancying her. Yes, he couldn't have Ron thinking that. A warm blush crept across his cheek despite telling himself that just because Ron would think that didn't make it true. Even still, Ginny had moved on from him AND Michael Corner. If what she said on the train was any indication, she had her eyes set on his Gryffindor roommate, Dean Thomas.

When he finished documenting his dream, Harry made his way back to the drawing room in order to practice his exercises. Since he wasn't as sore as he tended to be, Harry added a few repetitions and even did a few laps around the room. He was good and sweaty when he finally finished. It was also a bit later in the morning than when he usual finished. Casting a cleansing charm over himself, Harry transfigured his pajama pants into some weak muggle jean that imitated his pairs upstairs. For a shirt Harry found a handkerchief in one of the desk drawers that he could turn into a plain white tee shirt. Of course it first had to be scourified for safety reasons but it worked alright. It was a bit small seeing as its size had previously been only a square foot.

Mrs. Weasley was cooking dinner at the stove when Harry walked into the basement kitchen. Mr. Weasley sat at the head of the table drinking his coffee while reading the Daily Prophet. Tonks was the only other person in the room, looking far too perky with her lime green hair.

"Morning, Harry!" she sang.

"Morning," Harry mumbled back.

Mrs. Weasley looked over her shoulder at him and smiled.

"Good Morning, Harry dear. Did you sleep well?"

Harry chocked on the coffee he had just poured for himself.

Mr. Weasley raised an eyebrow at him from over his paper while Tonks leapt up to help only to fall down, adding to the commotion.

The pounding that Mrs. Weasley issued to his back helped him to swallow his gulp of coffee but only caused more concern at the need of such an action.

"What is the matter?" she asked, alarmed.

"It was hot, the coffee, I mean… It's hot."

"Yes, it usually is." Tonks said while getting up from the ground. "Otherwise, it tastes like rubbish."

Nodding like an idiot, Harry wiped his chin hoping against odds that Mrs. Weasley had only asked how he slept out of politeness. He must have been lucky because her unanswered question was forgotten, replaced by the sizzling of the bacon. Molly turned away from Harry and pointed her wand at the bacon and levitated it all to a platter on the table. In order to avoid making the situation any worse, Harry joined Mrs. Weasley in preparing the rest of the meal. Since the morning he had cooked breakfast, Mrs. Weasley had slowly adapted to Harry cooking or helping with bits of the meal preparations.

Throughout breakfast Harry kept shooting looks across the table at Ginny in hopes that he might be able to tell whether or not she had shared her night with Hermione. It seemed that she had put it far from her mind as her behavior was completely normal.

His own behavior must not have been up to par because Hermione asked him, as he was reaching for the coffee pot, if he was feeling alright. He assured her that he was fine but Mrs. Weasley had rushed over in the instant she heard that another person shared opinion on Harry's health this morning.

"I thought that he was looking a bit peaky this morning. Poor dear," she fussed while covering his forehead with her hand. "I'm sure Poppy wouldn't mind popping over for a quick check up. Severus was supposed to bring round another batch of Harry's nutrient potion's today but surely she could bring them in order to-"

"What!" Harry nearly shouted. He scooted his chair away from Mrs. Weasley hastily. "Snape doesn't know their mine, does he?"

"Well, of course he does. He doesn't usually brew such a specific potion on a normal basis in such large quantities so he had to be clued in. He would have insisted to know why he had to make excess nutrient potion and bring it to Headquarters even if he had been told that it was for a private reason. Or worse, he could have refused to brew it without an explanation!"

The hand was back on his forehead as the other felt his wrist for a pulse. He wrenched his wrist away from her as gently as possible but he could not shake her hand on his brow.

"But he knows that I'm taking a nutrient potion!" Harry exclaimed, wildly looking around for someone else who understood. Ron shrugged his shoulder like he was sorry but knew there was nothing to be done about it now. Ginny smiled reassuringly but it did not reach her eyes.

Harry sighed. If Snape wanted to cast snide comments his way about something at least now they would be true. Now instead of comments about his arrogance and late night rule breaking, he would tell all the Slytherins about how the famous Harry Potter was so weak that he had to really on a nutrient potion every morning.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Mrs. Weasley's statement, "I think you might have a fever Harry dear. You're awfully warm!"

"No! I mean, I'm fine. I feel perfectly normal, thank you!"

"Nonsense! We bought that line the last time, Harry Potter!" Mrs. Weasley said. Her voice was slightly raised, causing Harry to lean back in his chair as she straightened herself up and pointed a finger at him warningly. "You have to earn our trust back, Mister. If you want us to believe you when you say you are fine, you must say so when you are not fine. Do you hear me Harry James Potter? I suppose you could very well be fine right now but after you told me you were fine the last time, I don't trust your word on matters of your own personal health. Now, you march yourself upstairs to your room this instant and Poppy and I will be up soon enough!"

To say Harry was shocked at being on the receiving end of Mrs. Weasley's temper would be like saying Neville Longbottom was nervous in Snape's classroom. Had he really just been lectured in front of everyone at the breakfast table for lying about his health?

"Go on, get moving!" Mrs. Weasley ordered. "And I'd best not find you doing anything other than resting in that bed!"

Nonplussed, Harry stood up and cast a rather helpless look at Ron in hopes of an out. His friend gave him a wide eyed looked that plainly said that he too was a bit stunned that his mother had just chastised his best friend.

Harry sighed. There wasn't much else to be done. He simply walked away from the table and started towards his room. Rest indeed!