Potter47
Part Two
The Shadow of the Present
"All the flowers of tomorrow are in the seeds of yesterday."
Italian Proverb
Chapter Ten
Paper Flowers
Ginny stared at the spot on the bed, the spot next to her that she was quite positive had been occupied a moment before.
"Harry?" she said quietly, hesitantly, but no—he was gone, quite gone, and it was as though he had never been there to begin with.
Strange.
Perhaps she was dreaming. She had been so sure, a moment ago, that he hadn't been dreaming, but could she be doing just that? Could she have fallen asleep without noticing, and was her world about to spin round and have her flying without a broom? Or was this a nightmare, and she would fall and fall and fall into nothing?
Or perhaps she was just going barmy, and that thought comforted Ginny. She reckoned that she must be going barmy if the thought of going barmy comforted her, so...she lay back on the bed and tried to go back to sleep. Or, perhaps, to wake up.
Time passed at the Burrow, and (contrary to popular belief), it did so at precisely the same speed as in the rest of the world. It just felt so much longer, to Ginny. So very much longer than it really was.
Two weeks, that was it. Two weeks had passed since the others had left, had gone off to Hogwarts without her...of course, there hadn't been much of a difference before they left, as no one really had visited her very much to begin with. She felt eleven again, and ignored. She didn't like to feel eleven again.
The only thing that kept Ginny sane (although she had long-since determined that she was not, in fact, just that) was her various attempts to reclaim freedom. She particularly enjoyed the window-escapes, but those ended up badly, more often than not.
She wondered, sometimes, just what she was trying to escape to.
Today was sure to be an interesting escapade, as she had realised something that had never before occurred to her: she was supposed to be at school. And, therefore, she was supposed to be doing magic on a daily basis. And, therefore, her wand was not being monitored. And, therefore, she could use magic.
She smiled as she cast the Disillusionment Charm on herself and opened the door a crack—Fred was guarding, today, and she wondered who they had stationed out in the yard, under the window. Probably Bill. She would have guessed George, but George was likely standing just down the hallway out of sight and communicating stealthily to his twin, for the sake of acting like a spy. He had always liked pretending to be a spy, sneaking round and trying to get by Mum...and the hobby had only increased since he had actually become a spy.
Ginny held her breath as she opened the door—stepped outside—closed it again. Fred didn't notice, he was too busy looking pointedly the other way for some reason. She walked slowly towards the steps, and took absolute care to avoid any points that creaked...she reached the twins' room's landing without being noticed.
And then she heard the voice:
"You look just like her..."
Flowers. There were flowers all round her... it was strange, actually, as though the flowers were blocking something... as though they were meant to keep her out.
Petunia furrowed her brow.
"Flowers can't keep people out," she thought, or did she say it aloud? She wasn't sure...
She plunged her arms through them and pushed to the sides, revealing...a memory.
"Come on, Petunia," she said, Lily said. "We're almost there."
"How fast do you think I can go?" said Petunia. "I've got a bloody blindfold on..."
Petunia felt her hand grasped once again—for Lily had let go of it, before—and she was pulled along, pulled towards whatever it was that her sister wanted to show her.
"Lil, tell me right this instant what that thing was, before. That dizzy thing. What did you make me touch?"
"That just brought us here, Pet. It doesn't matter."
"It does matter, because I prefer to know when I've been bamboozled into one of your plots. I don't like being the butt of your...magical pranks, Lily, and I do mean that."
"Of course you do," said Lily, "of course you like them, I mean. You're kidding yourself if you didn't enjoy that one with the penguin—"
"Don't mention the penguin—"
"But it was so cute..."
"I said not to mention the penguin, Lily, or I am stopping right here."
"No matter," said Lily, "we're here."
Petunia felt the blindfold come off of her face, and the bright sunlight invaded her eyes mercilessly. Once her vision had adjusted, Petunia could see...what were they? Ruins?
"You brought me out here to look at a broken down castle?" said Petunia incredulously. "Why on earth—"
"Broken down?" said Lily, sounding confused. "How do you mean? It's not broken down at all, Petunia, this is Hogwarts. This is where I go to school."
"This is the place you've been talking about for a year? I'd pictured something a bit grander."
"Oh, but it is grand, Petunia, if only you could see it...I don't see why you can't. Unless Muggles can't see it..."
"I can see it just fine, Lily, there just isn't much of anything to see." Petunia turned round and began to walk away, but stopped. "Where exactly is the way home?" she asked, and Lily, instead of responding, took something from her pocket and touched it to Petunia's skin. She felt a hook behind her navel, and—
Flowers, flowers, everywhere, and not a drop to drink. Petunia knew that that made no sense, but she couldn't exactly figure why it made no sense, and so she continued to think it, again and again, as she walked through the field.
The flowers were beautiful. Tall, and bright-coloured, and wonderful-smelling. At least...most of them were. Hidden under the tall ones were shorter, uglier, smellier ones that were half-dead and falling fast. Petunia knelt down, careful not to crush any of the healthy flowers, and touched one of the ugly ones with a finger.
"Ouch," she said. "That hurt." And when Petunia looked at her finger, she saw a tiny spot of blood, but the blood was not red, it was silver, almost like a microscopic mirror. Putting her eye right up close, she could see that it wasn't a mirror, but was a window.
"Of course it's a window," said Petunia. "How could I forget?"
Looking through the window, she could see herself, (so maybe it was a mirror as well, after all) but she could also see them, and she remembered the day as though it were...yesterday.
"Petunia, this is serious," said Lily, and James nodded beside her. "Voldemort is gathering the Dementors to him, and he's going to use them against the Order. You have to be prepared."
"NO," said Petunia, "I don't have to be prepared, as I'm not a part of your silly order, and I don't have anything to do with Whatever-His-Name-Is. Now, if you would just go away, and leave me be, I have my baby to attend to—would you hear that? The poor boy's crying, he needs his mummy—"
"Pet," said Lily. "You do have to worry. You're connected to us. And Voldemort is trying to find us. You need to be as safe as you can be, without alerting the Death Eaters that you know anything about us. And you can't hardly be safe if you can't see the thing that's about to attack you."
"Yeah," said James. "One day I was resting on the couch, and my eyes were closed, and Lily came up behind me and scared me half to death, all because I couldn't see her coming."
"James, please let me handle this."
"Then why did I have to come along? The game was just getting good, you know that—"
"Shush!" said Lily, and James shushed. Lily turned back to Petunia. "We need to do this."
"You're not putting any of your magic spells on me," said Petunia resolutely. "No sir."
"You won't feel a thing," said Lily. "Trust me. It's entirely painless. I made sure of that when I created it."
"If you don't let her," said James, "she'll just do it when you're asleep. And I reckon even you wouldn't like Dementors to start running round your dreams."
Petunia trembled slightly, and hesitated.
"Fine," she said. "But you'd better not tell Vernon."
"When do we ever speak to that old—" James began, but was silenced by Lily.
"All right then," she said. "Verorilus!" she muttered, and for Petunia blinked woozily for a moment.
"There," said Lily. "Now you'll be able to see Dementors."
Now you'll be able to see flowers, that's what the voice in Petunia's mind said. Because again she was surrounded, and in that open field and all by herself...but no, she wasn't.
In the distance was a girl, and she had long, red hair, and she was running, running away from Petunia. Petunia tried to chase her, but she could not catch up...the girl was too fast, too young, too—
And then the girl stopped, and turned round, and Petunia's breath caught as she neared her...the girl wore a guarded face, and she was out of breath.
"Why are you following me?" said the girl.
"You look just like her..."
Ginny stopped, and turned round—the voice had come from the twins' room. It was...it was Petunia. Ginny had completely forgotten about Harry's aunt.
The door was open, for some reason—perhaps Ginny's mother had been in with food or something—and Ginny could see Petunia sitting straight upright in bed, facing Ginny herself...but when Ginny neared the woman, it became clear that her eyes were closed, and that she was asleep.
And, though Ginny, recalling the Charm she'd put on herself, she couldn't have seen me anyway.
Petunia's eyes snapped open as soon as Ginny's foot passed the threshold, and her breath came in short pants.
"God, you scared the daylights out of me—" the woman said, and then she blinked, and looked round for a moment. "Show yourself! I saw you, girl!"
Ginny was confused; had she been seen through the Charm? How was that possible...—anyway, she removed the charm, and Petunia glared at her.
"Why would you do a thing like that to such a poor, and...and frail woman as myself? You could have given me a heart attack, you—" But then something changed in Petunia's voice, some strange sound came up through her throat, and she fell silent.
"How are you?" Ginny said, and she felt rather awkward. "You seem to be better—"
"Than what?" said Petunia.
"Than the last time I saw you."
"Oh. Oh, of course," said Petunia, nodding. "That was a while ago, wasn't it, girl?"
"Yes," said Ginny.
"What day is it?" the woman asked. "And in what month?"
"The...fourteenth," said Ginny, "of September."
"Only that long? I feel as though I've been cooped up in this dump for years, at least...perhaps a century or two."
"I know the feeling," said Ginny.
Silence.
"Hang on," said Petunia. "What are you doing here, anyway? Doesn't your...your school start at the beginning of the month? Why are you still—oh, did they close it down? It's about time, I say—it's been all broken down for at least twenty-five years, and yet you all go off every year and somehow manage to return in one piece..."
"I'm sick," said Ginny, rather petulantly. "Something wrong with my head."
Petunia blinked. "Would you mind taking a few steps away, please? And if you're going to go barmy on me, please leave before you do so."
"Not that kind of something," Ginny said. "At least...I don't think so."
"Well, you never know, do you? If nutters knew they were nutters, they would find themselves help and the rest of us could breathe easier, but no..."
"Why are you here, then?" Ginny asked. "You seem fine to me."
"I've no where else to go, of course," said Petunia. "I can't very well return to my house, can I? Not after—"
"I never really knew what happened that day," said Ginny. "Would you mind filling me in? I feel rather...in the dark."
Petunia harrumphed. "The number of times I've had to put myself through the telling of this story..." But really, she seemed glad to have been asked, as though she were spreading the latest bit of gossip instead of the details of her family's demise.
"I was in the kitchen, and all of a sudden there were...thousands of...of Dementors, those monstrous things. And then they came in, and I...I ran out, I ran away, but Duddy couldn't see them, nor could Vernon, and they thought I was just going barmy...I don't know how they reasoned the voices, and I don't think they ever will."
"Wait...you can see Dementors?" Ginny asked.
"Yes, and I've never felt so much thanks and hatred towards my sister at the same time...why couldn't she have saved my family as well?"
Ginny didn't really understand, but she didn't think that she could, either. So she left it alone.
"I ran out of the place, into the street, and there was this great bird, it popped up in front of me, and I don't know why I did it, but I grabbed hold of its tail, and it took me here. Strangest sensation I've had since...strangest I've had in a long time."
"And how did you...lose your fingernails?" Ginny asked, wincing at the memory.
"Trying to get in the door, of course. You can imagine my terror, can't you? I didn't know where in hell I was, or what had happened, or what was going to happen next...this house was the only thing I could reach. And I had to get in, of course, I couldn't just stay out there. So..." She glanced down at her healed fingertips.
"So," Petunia said again. "Why are you here?"
"Trying to escape," said Ginny. "From my room, I mean. I'm supposed to be in bed, but I've been in bed forever, and it gets boring."
Silence, for a time.
"Where is Harry?" said Petunia. "Is he at school? He hasn't come to see me, the ungrateful—" Petunia hesitated, looking at Ginny oddly for a moment, and did not continue.
"Yeah," said Ginny. "I miss him."
"Of course you do. You said you're in love with him. I know what that's like," said Petunia, and Ginny found it hard to think of Petunia and Harry's uncle ever being in love. Petunia's gaze was wistful for a moment, and then her face tightened once more. "If I were you, that's where I'd escape to, not to see me. To see him."
"Oh, believe me, I would if I could."
Petunia narrowed her eyes. "And why can't you?"
Ginny smiled in an almost patronising way. "You can't just go to Hogwarts, any time you like. You need a Portkey, or else you need a ride. I have neither, unless I was going to ride my broom up to Scotland, which is actually stated as a warning on the label: 'Do not fly this broom to Scotland.' Apparently there's some magical border or something that doesn't allow air-travel."
Petunia blinked. "I'm not even going to ask what any of that meant, because I don't care. But when you do end up running away to see him, let him know that he hasn't been the most caring nephew, and he'd better work on that, if he knows what's good for him."
"I'm not going to run away," said Ginny, though she sounded as though she would like nothing more than to sneak her way to Hogwarts.
"Yes you are. Of course you are. Even now, you're thinking about how much you'd love to see him again, about how it really couldn't be that hard to do... You'll do it eventually, you mark my words."
"Oh, yeah?" said Ginny. "And how do you know? Did you run away to be with Harry's uncle?"
Petunia shook her head, eyes widened almost in shock. "I would never. Ladies don't run away."
"Then how do you know?" said Ginny, ignoring what could have been construed as an insult.
Petunia paused a moment, and then closed her eyes, looking very tired. "Because," she said, "I can tell that you don't only look just like her."
Her eyes drifted shut, and her dreams continued.
"Why are you following me?" said Lily, stopping with her hands on her waist and glaring at Petunia. "You can't follow me."
"Well, I wouldn't follow you," said Petunia, "if I knew where you were going."
"I can't tell you," said Lily. "You'd tell Mum and Dad."
"You're supposed to be in bed. You're lucky if I don't send a letter ahead to that school of yours and tell them to expect you."
"I thought you didn't know where I was going," said Lily, narrowing her eyes.
Petunia blinked, and then noticed her mistake. "Well, it's obvious, isn't it? You're running off to your precious Potter, blah blah blah. But your nurse, in the least, won't be very happy about your escapade, will she?"
"She won't find out," said Lily, and she began to walk again. "No one will find out."
"I'll tell them you're coming, I told you I will." Petunia followed after her sister.
"You wouldn't touch an owl with a 12-foot pole. You won't tell anyone."
Petunia wanted to fire back, but Lily was right. She wouldn't touch an owl, and how else would she tell?
"You're going to get caught," said Petunia, her lips tight. "And they're going to expel you."
"I hardly think that sneaking to school is an expellable offence," said Lily. "But I don't care. This is important."
"How is this boy so important that you'd risk everything?" said Petunia, who was now too tired to keep up, and stopped walking all together.
"He just is," said Lily. "And I need to see him."
And then...and then she was gone.
"How wonderful is Death!
Death and his brother Sleep."
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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