Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, blah blah . . . heck; I don't even own the title to this chapter! I stole *coughs* borrowed it from Book 1!
Also, the song "Goodbye" is Amy Lee's - I love her voice. It would help to get a hold of this song, because the way she sings it, it's just like a lullaby of sorts. If not, I dunno, try and imagine Ginny singing "Bring Me to Life" or something . . . J
A/N: In the last chapter, if no one figured out why I called it "The Parallel" it was because, well, pay close attention to what's happening to Harry, then to Ginny . . . then imagine it's happening at the same time . . . Eh, eh? Anybody? Well, the first clue is the light that Harry sees (coming from nowhere) and then the voice Harry hears ("Nothing bad is going to happen") . . . Still no one? Well, at the same time, Ginny wakes up to blinding light (readers: Ohhhh . . .) and Ron is comforting Ginny when Harry gets the same comfort.
We clear, then? (By the way, props to Snowman1400 for figuring it out before I had the chance to post this!)
[Actually, some of that was a little unintentional; I just used it to my advantage for the title.]
[And I don't know if it'll have anything to do with future chaps . . . :-/)
Well then, on with the show!
. . .
. . . Er, fan fiction?
The Old LotThe Journey From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters
Rain came onto the windows as slashing swords of water, dueling with the solid of the glass. It only reflected Ginny's mood; at least she'd like to think so. Truly, she dreaded her destination and seeing people she hadn't seen since her graduation. She didn't know how they would act around her.
This'll be . . . well, not exactly like old times . . .
The rumbling of the Hogwarts Express took Ginny out of her thoughts briefly. She looked around the compartment; Ron was asleep across from her, Hermione leaning on him. Ginny sighed, and began to doze off again.
*
A firefly nightlight, pink and glowing, dimly lighted the room. The chest of a small redhead moved slowly up and down, and another redhead tiptoed across the room that was so familiar to her. The walls were still a pale rose color, with stenciled figures of butterflies and daisies; her desk sat in the shadows of the darkest corner; cream-colored curtains adorned the clear windows looking out on the front lawn.
Ivy was a deep sleeper - Ginny knew that. The sun was not yet over the horizon, but she knew how early the girl could wake up. Ginny sat down softly on the daybed, and gently pushed the untamed curls away from the child's ivory, freckly face. In a soft singing whisper, she began:
"Goodnight, sleep tight
No more tears
In the morning I'll be here
And when we say goodnight,
Dry your eyes
Because we said goodnight,
And not goodbye"
She didn't know when she would see her daughter again.
"We said goodnight
and not goodbye"
For what seemed like the millionth time in the past week, a tear escaped Ginny's eye, and then the child began to stir. Ginny quickly backed out of the room, and Disapparated from the hallway.
*
"Ginny?"
On the brink of consciousness Ginny heard Hermione talking to her, but all she wanted to do was watch Ivy a little longer. But like all things, dreams (or reflections of the past, as this may be more accurately described), must end, and she found herself not in her old bedroom at the Burrow, but in a dark, half-cozy train compartment.
"Hmm-yeah?" Cleared her throat. "Sorry, I'm so tired. I couldn't sleep much last night . . ."
Hermione shook her head. "It's all right. I'm a bit tired myself, but Ron was the first to fall asleep." Ginny realized Ron was indeed snoring on Hermione's shoulder. It was kind of sad.
"You could probably get up and he wouldn't notice," Ginny suggested.
"Nah, he's not bothering me. It's just a little, well, funny." She laughed, though Ginny didn't know exactly why.
"So, we've been worrying about my situation since I got to your place," Ginny said, "So why don't I ask how you two have been? Anything more out-of-the-ordinary than usual?"
Hermione sighed. "Not really. Ron is still at the Ministry; he's not getting time off for this, but he wouldn't let us go without him."
"I'm sorry," Ginny said, feeling guilty. "You should have told me he had to work, we could have –"
"No, I tried to change his mind one night, but he wouldn't stand for it. Anyway, I sent an owl up to the Department of Magical Creatures the other day; it was just before you arrived with Ivy, actually. I'm still waiting for a reply, but I have a lot of ideas for promoting the idea of S.P.E.W. I do hope they consider them . . . I haven't had much luck in the past."
Ginny grinned inwardly. Hermione was so bright, but sometimes she had to wonder.
"Right now," Hermione continued, "I've got a position as Head Librarian at the Wizard Library at Diagon Alley. It's really wonderful there, I mean, so many books . . . Must be ten times as many as at Hogwarts, and that's hard to believe, don't you think? Really, this place is huge."
"Yeah, I think Mum took us - Fred, George, Ron and I - once. We never went back because the twins were charming a librarian's toupee to momentarily float above his head. They put a restriction order on our family." The memory was still quite embarrassing, and Ginny blushed hard.
Ron stirred slightly, as though he had heard his name but chose to ignore it.
"So, have you two considered . . . you know . . . kids, or anything?"
Hermione smiled. "Well, not really verbally, you know . . ."
Both women laughed. "But he doesn't say much about it."
"Whether you want to think it or not, Ron would be a good father," Ginny said. "Before he went to Hogwarts, I remember him telling me he wanted a family just like ours, with tons of kids running around. Just none like Fred and George, he said. They always picked on him. But I know he really meant it. Dunno if he feels the same way."
"I hope he does," Hermione mumbled absently. She looked up. "I mean - I'd like a big family, you know? I always have, being an only child. I didn't want my children to have to be alone all the time, with no one to stick by them. It did get fairly lonely." A distant expression crossed her face. "But then of course, Hogwarts was the best thing that ever happened to me."
Ginny could tell she was trying not to cry. So she said, "Yeah, it was."
Hermione smiled, "It was, wasn't it?"
*
The train came to an abrupt stop, waking all three people in one compartment.
"What the f–"
"Ron!"
"We're here," Ginny half-shouted. Ron and Hermione looked at her. Then Ron looked out the window.
He chuckled. "So we are." Raindrops lingered on the window, but the sun shone brightly enough to heat their compartment. A light, faded rainbow arched out from behind a distant castle, and memories flooded all of their minds like the rainstorms had done earlier that day.
"This is so . . . weird," Ron whispered. He stood and helped Hermione up. "Are you coming, Ginny?" he asked.
"Yeah, go on." Ron exited with Hermione, and Ginny would follow after taking another glance back at the school. An old memory crossed her vision, and she had to shake her mind out of it.
"Well," Hermione sighed, linking arms with Ron and Ginny, "are we ready?"
The two with red hair nodded, both showing signs of slight nervousness. Together they walked up to the carriage waiting for them, arranged to be there by the headmistress. As there always had been, the phantom-like horses were at the front of the carriage, ready to pull. Ginny still had to shiver when she saw them.
Ron climbed in after the two women, and once they were on their way, attempts at conversation were kept to a minimum. It seemed to take forever and a moment to reach the steps, as Ginny walked dizzy-headed to her old school. Before she had the chance to extend her hand to the door, it swung open, causing her hair to be pulled toward it.
"Elliot!" Ginny almost screamed, and she ran to hug a person she hadn't seen in years. She hugged him around the middle, as he was at least two feet taller than her. "How are you?"
"I'm good," Elliot said, uneasily touching Ginny's back with his large hands. Finally she broke off and he sighed with relief, hopefully that she didn't notice. "Wha' brings yeh 'round here, Miss Potter?"
"Oh, we've come to see Professor McGonagall. How's your mum?" Ginny was eager to stay on happy terms.
"Good as she'll ever be, I 'spect," he replied, and he looked around behind Ginny to Hermione and Ron, who had lingered back. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, didn't see you there! How are yeh?"
Hermione stepped forward and hugged Elliot. "Fine, thank you. You seem great."
"Yeah, it's always been great 'round this place, for me. 'S my home, really." Elliot paused, and whispered, "Anythin' 'bout Harry, lately?"
The three visitors exchanged glances. "A few revelations," Ron said, keeping details to a minimum. Elliot seemed to notice his hesitance to reveal information, so he sighed loudly and said, "Well, I've got lots to do, what with school and ground keeping duties. It's a hassle, but Dad'd be proud, eh?" He smiled weakly, and the company nodded practically in unison.
"Definitely," Hermione said, very sure of herself while not so. "It was nice seeing you again, but we really must be getting on."
"Oh, a course, Mrs. Weasley, don' let me keep yeh from . . . business," he said hurriedly. "I was just headin' out to the forest, tend to the garden. I'll see yeh all later, I 'spect." He gave a cheery grin, and headed down the rest of the steps. They watched him head off, a slight bounce in his step; his shadow casting an even bigger shape than all three of theirs combined.
"Well, McGonagall will be waiting," Ron prompted. Ginny and Hermione broke away from staring and nodded in agreement. They walked the familiar path of halls to the Headmistress' office, though it had once belonged to a Headmaster.
They met the large stone gargoyle and Ron took the initiative to quickly give the password ("Scotch Pies") so that they wouldn't be too late.
Ginny knocked on the door to the office, and opened it when she heard a faint, "Come in."
The room looked a lot different since the last time Ginny had been in it; she tried not to think about that time. The whizzing silver contraptions no longer occupied its space, but instead a nice collection of books; volumes that looked about six centimeters wide each took up most shelf space. Hermione looked like she was holding back from inspecting their titles. All the portraits remained, and the last, late professor's picture hung in direct view of the office's desk. Professor Dumbledore smiled at them, his eyes twinkling.
"Miss Potter, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley – Blast, what are you kids doing to me? There are just too many new names to keep track of; I catch myself referring to you as Weasley, Weasley, and Granger, as it were." The aging professor smiled and cleared her thoughts. "Oh well, I suppose I have no control over young lives anymore. Oh, and have a seat, no need to stay standing." She conjured three armchairs.
"Well, Professor, you must have some control left in you, to run this school . . .?" Hermione asked, her arm twitching with an impulse to raise it eagerly into the air. McGonagall smiled.
"Yes, I suppose I do. Thanks to goodness, we haven't any more Freds or Georges, or even 'Marauders.' Though I must observe that some students are getting a little more rebellious, none so much as those brothers of yours," she said, while nodding to Ron and Ginny. "Anyway," she continued, "you came to discuss certain whereabouts of . . . of Mr. Potter, correct?" Pain briefly crossed her lined face. "Well I, for one, would like to hear this whole 'James story,' as Miss Gra – Mrs. Weasley mentioned in her owl."
Ginny stepped up to retell the whole story once again – she counted it to be the third time, to be exact. When she finished, she felt oddly drained.
"Are you quite alright, Ginny?" Hermione asked. "You don't look well."
"Just a little light-headed; I'm fine."
Hermione shook her head. "Maybe some tea?" With a wave of her wand she made four steaming cups appear at the center of the desk.
"Yes, thank you Mrs. Weasley, tea is wonderful," McGonagall replied, somewhat fast. The old professor looked frazzled, not like herself at all. All is wrong in the world, Ginny thought, sipping her scalding hot tea.
". . . And we were thinking of the prime places that he could possibly be, since we now know he is indeed alive." Ginny caught the end of what Hermione was saying as she returned to the atmosphere of the office.
"Yes," Ginny said quickly, and Ron only gave her a funny look before saying, "Right, so we were wondering if we might . . . have a look around."
McGonagall hesitated. "I suppose . . . if you really believe he might be here . . ."
"Not so much that as it might lead us to more clues, I think," Ginny said quietly. She looked to Hermione. "The Marauder's Map is in one of the tunnels. I don't remember which."
"I do," Ron cut in. "The one under the Whomping Willow."
*
Silence, but for the soft pat pat of their soles, enveloped the three companions as they ventured down the never-ending tunnel. Occasionally Hermione would hiss, "Ow! Ron!" after he would stop abruptly to check the ground and she would run into his backside. Ginny was becoming really exhausted, but she didn't want the others to think they had to stop.
Barely unexpectedly, Ron stopped again and Hermione bit back a curse over which she had control not to say. "Goodness, Ron, don't you remember where you two left it?" Hermione fell to the ground and cracked her back by twisting it. Ron didn't respond for several seconds.
Then he simply said, "Found it." Hermione and Ginny sat up to kneel next to Ron, and they looked at the old, dusty piece of parchment he clutched in his hands.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Ron tapped the map lightly as he spoke, and Hogwarts appeared once again onto the old map. He dusted it off, and clearly they could see Professor McGonagall was still in her office, Professors Binns and Trite in the lounge, and old Filch walking the 4th floor corridor with Mrs. Norris.
"Well . . ." Ginny said slowly, "What do we do now?"
Hermione stood up, at least as far up as she could stand without knocking herself out on the ceiling, and she brushed the earth off of her khakis. "I think we can say for sure that we're finished here." She peered down at the map. "Well, right now we're closer to the Shrieking Shack than Hogwarts, so we might as well head down to Hogsmeade. We can grab some lunch at the Three Broomsticks, like old times."
Twisting their backs as they emerged into the room only too familiar to them, the three friends exited the dilapidated building and across the lawn to the main road. Passing shops, Ginny reminisced of her schooldays. The bookstore, Zonko's Joke Shop . . . All places she hadn't been in so many years . . . . Finally they approached the Three Broomsticks, a place, she feared, that held the most memories of all . . .
Ron held open the door for the ladies, and Ginny's eyes had to adjust from the bright sun outside to the dimmer inside of the tiny inn. The bartender smiled at them. "Afternoon, ladies, sir. What can I get you?"
"We'll have three butterbeers," Ron answered, looking back to check with Hermione and Ginny, who both nodded. The man nodded and disappeared behind the counter.
"We'll get seated then?" Ginny said, and she led them to a table near the door. The bartender came back with their drinks, and handed out menus. The inn was fairly empty.
"I never know what to get here," Hermione said impatiently. "We usually ate dinner back at the Great Hall."
"You could just order a sandwich or something," Ron suggested.
"Or soup, or fish and chips . . . There are tons of choices." After scanning the menu once over again, Hermione sat back in her seat. "Well, I know what I'm getting."
Ron looked at her, his mouth open, and then closed it. "Me too. What about you, Ginny? Ginny, are you listening to me?"
Lost for words, Ginny pointed at the Marauder's Map, which Ron had discarded to the edge to the table when they had sat down. Ron and Hermione leaned over, and Hermione gasped.
The dot labelled Draco Malfoy was moving through the tunnel from the Whomping Willow, and disappeared as the map ended.
A/N: Hah, that felt good. I haven't had a good cliff in a while; I was well overdue for another. Questions? Comments? Reviews? Feel free! And my email should be on my author's page, though I do have my review alert set up. Hmm . . . Anything else for you wonderful people who are going to review once I finish talking endlessly and consistently and annoyingly? Yes, a THANK YOU is in order, I do believe . . .
THANK YOU!
Yes, without reviewers, I . . . wouldn't have any reviews? I'll bet most people have stopped reading this by now. Yes, I think I'll stop writing this fic.
HAH gotcha! Nah, I'm in too deep in this one, though I honestly don't know where I'm going . . . well, a little . . . but it's funner this way, isn't it?
And yeah, 'funner' is my word. Long story, short attention span.
For the love of writing,
~g.e.o.
(Post Script [hey, I like to be different] – I started a one shot, *bites lip waiting for response*, though I dunno when I'll finish/ post it. I'll tell you now though, it's James/Lily +Remus, Sirius, and new characters . . . FUN!!)