Here it is guys, the much anticipated chapter 7 and the revelation of Him. Are you ready for it?
Chapter 7: Him, and Him…and Him
How many? Just how many things had I forgotten? Obviously I'd left behind a year of memories, but just what had I given up? What had I done? Was it bad? Good? How many times? With whom? For what reason? Just what had happened?
The questions overwhelmed my mind. All I knew was that I joined the Order, went on a mission, and was caught by Deatheaters. And I didn't even know that for certain!
I slumped down on the floor, hardly comprehending that my legs couldn't hold me up any more.
From those strange dreams I had deduced that someone had tortured information out of me, information that had put the Order at risk. But maybe that was wrong. Maybe I turned double agent, maybe I joined the Deatheaters, or maybe they just captured and raped me. For all I really knew Voldemort himself could have stolen my virginity!
That was a thought to jerk me out of my daze. It would have sobered up a habitual drunk in point two seconds. I had to leave. There was no way I'd be able to stay in that house any longer, not with what had just happened.
It wasn't because of the sex; that was something I could have handled in any other situation. But now all of my emotions were spinning around and making me more then a little dizzy. His tenderness and caring, the cold shoulder and turning away from me, those were the things that made me uncomfortable, the things that mixed with the sex I couldn't handle.
And mix all of that with the dreams, the memories, and the lack of knowledge of my past, I had to leave. Without a doubt I needed to get out of there to clear my head. Besides, I needed to talk to someone, someone who would tell me the truth.
Tentatively, I knocked on the guest room door at the Burrow. "Harry?"
He opened the door, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Ginny? What are you doing here? Did Malfoy do something? If he did, I swear I'll—"
"I need to ask you something!" I blurted out. "But I'm not sure just how to say it." I twisted my fingers around.
"Your Mum and Dad have been really nice, letting me stay here this time even though I said I was going back to my flat. It's been pretty good. They miss you of course. Fleur was here yesterday; she and your Mum talked about the baby." He was trying to put me at ease, talking about nothing, but it only made me more nervous.
"Harry, have we—I mean, have I ever done—what happened during the war?"
"You'd better come in." He made a big deal about turning on lights and moving books off a seat for me. "It's like this Gin, I can't tell you."
I moved to leave.
"It's not because I don't want to! I just don't know. You were different during the war; hell, we all were. But you didn't talk much about your personal life, not with anyone. Most of us didn't even know you'd joined the Order until it was too late. It wasn't until after you lost your memory that Dumbledore told us you'd been on a mission."
He was lying. I could hear it in his voice and see it in the way he didn't look at me. "Thanks Harry, but when you're ready to tell me the truth, I'll be up in my room." He couldn't tell me the truth, and I really didn't want his lies.
"Wait!" Harry grabbed my arm. "We promised not to tell you; we all promised, even Malfoy. After Dumbledore erased your memories, you said you never wanted to remember and made us all swear not to tell you. It was a Sacred Promise."
"I see." It made sense; I would have required something they wouldn't be able to break if I really didn't want to remember. "I'll just be heading off to bed now. Thanks."
Well, at least that explained why nobody answered my questions before.
It was odd to be back in my own room, strange to be around so many familiar things. The chair I curled up in to read, my books still spread across the floor, but someone had made the bed. It was all so familiar and yet so completely detached. How could I have changed so much in such a short amount of time?
Deliberately slow, in an attempt to make it feel normal, I changed into whatever pajamas were lying around. It worked. Out of habit, I grabbed the first book off the floor and lit my wand. A little nighttime reading might make for good dreams.
Great fat tears rolled down my face, no matter how hard I tried to stop. Sobs choked out any words I wanted to say, and there were quite a few. Snot leaked steadily from my nose. Just how I wanted to start my day.
"This is your fault! Who gave you permission to try that spell in here?"
"We had to try it somewhere, and Hermione said it wouldn't hurt anyone! Stop giving me that look!"
"You shouldn't be so careless about where you point that wand of yours! One day someone is going to get seriously hurt."
"Oh that's rich coming from you! Weren't you the one boasting about flame spells yesterday?"
"Enough, boys!" Mum yelled. "It was an accident, Draco, and from now on, Harry, practice your spells somewhere other then the kitchen." She pulled out the chair next to me. "Look at me Ginny, that's it. Take deep breaths."
"Yea, Malfoy," a deep voice said from the background. "You don't see Ginny crying over it. Well, actually you do."
I was too busy laughing to realize Mum had undone the curse.
"Yes, Malfoy. We're not stupid, you know. Of course, Malfoy." Harry sounded annoyed.
"And remember—"
"Good-bye, Malfoy."
For a moment I allowed myself the sinful pleasure of smirking mischievously. Harry would never forego an opportunity to tell Malfoy off, and this way I didn't have to face him. A few mindless days without thinking or stupid old memories would do me a world of good.
"Good morning everyone!" I smiled gleefully, feeling refreshed. A good night of sleep will do that.
Dad lowered the paper and nodded at me while biting a piece of toast. Harry returned the greeting and then mumbled something inaudible about nosey ex-Order members. Mum didn't turn away from the stove.
"Dear, why did you leave Malfoy Manor last night? Did the two of you have an argument or something?" She asked quietly.
The reason I left could not in any conscience be told, especially not to my parents. "Umm, no, I just felt the time had come for me to leave."
"But apparently Malfoy didn't feel the same. He was quite upset that you left without telling him." Mum gave me a patronizing look. "You could have at the very least told him where you were going. He was very worried, you know."
I bowed my head in an attempt to appear chastised. Nothing could make me go back; I'd rather live on the streets. "Sorry Mum, but I couldn't stay there any longer. You wouldn't stay either, not if you learned what I did."
Mum and Dad exchanged curious and nervous looks but refrained from actually saying anything. Several moments of awkward silence followed before someone asked the big question.
"Are you going to go back?" Harry asked.
"No, I'm not, and I don't want to remember anything else anymore. In fact I want to forget everything I've remembered." I said calmly, still cutting the pancakes.
Dad leaned over towards Harry and asked the other big question. "What'd she remember?"
"I don't know, and I don't want to either." Harry whispered back.
"Excuse me," said a squeaky little voice. "Where should Lilla put Miss Weasley's things?" All four of us turned to look at the house elf. "Master thought Miss might like her clothes and things, since it does not appear that she will be returning."
"Oh, I'll take them, Lilla." I hopped up and reached for the bag in her hands.
"But Miss! They is very heavy! Let Lilla carry them." She looked horrified at the thought of me carrying anything.
"They, you mean there is more then one?" Harry asked.
"Oh yes! Master bought many pretty clothes and baubles for Miss! Master dotes on Miss, oh yes he most certainly does!"
"Thank you Lilla!" I interrupted gladly. "I'll, umm show you upstairs." She followed me very quietly looking at everything, most likely taking an inventory. "This is it." I opened up the door, and she gasped.
"Miss should not joke so with Lilla. This is the elf's room. Please take Lilla to Miss's real room."
"This is it, Lilla." I swept into the room and looked at everything closely. Last night it had certainly looked bigger and a lot more comfortable. But in the light, the dark blue drapes looked faded and washed out, the comforter on the bed pale, and the furniture chipped. It didn't look or feel like home anymore. "This is my room."
"But there is not enough space to fit all your pretty things!" She surveyed the room with an interior designer's eye. "Master won't like it, but I shall have to take some of it back with me."
"Lilla, I really don't need all of it. Just tell Dr—Mal—your Master that-that I don't want it." My cheeks felt like they were on fire for saying such things, but I didn't want anything to remind me of last night.
"Oh! I can't do that, Miss! Master gave me strict orders to return your things and to make sure this room was perfect for you."
That was that; Lilla had spoken.
For eight hours, she cleaned, arranged, straightened, and rearranged my bedroom. Several times Harry and I could hear loud bangs and then even louder curses.
"It's like living with Fred and George again!" I said with a giggle after the third eruption. "Except they didn't dare use her vocabulary."
Harry laughed as well, knocking over several of the pawns he'd just lined up. "Can't even begin to imagine just what she's doing up there."
"I think it's another one of those things I just don't want to know." Dad said from behind his paper.
I smiled at him just as the clock struck five, and Lilla came back down the stairs. "Well, Miss, it is the best I can do," She said grimly. "Although most of your things will have to come back with me. At least Master will feel secure that you will lack for nothing, in your own room at least."
"I have never lacked anything." The words fell like icicles from, my lips. "You make sure your Master knows that."
And then Lilla did something very odd; she yanked me down close and whispered in my ear. "He already knows that, Miss. But I is not so sure. When he is telling me you is fine, I is not believing him. I is worrying for you. Always I is not sure if you is not wanting something more big."
"Oh Lilla," I said softly, my heart and eyes growing a little warm.
"I is going now Miss, but you is always remembering me, okay?"
"Always!" I knelt down, shook her hand, and blinked rapidly.
"Good," Lilla said without a trace of emotion, and then she left just as abruptly as she'd arrived.
Feeling both greatly relieved that she'd gone and anxious at how she'd left my room, I marched purposefully into the kitchen. Perhaps there was just enough time for Harry and I to finish one more game of chess before Mum called us for dinner. And then, maybe I could sit in the big armchair and finish The Scarlet Letter.
But the day didn't end my way. "So she left then?" Mum asked, sounding irritated for some unknown reason.
Dad stood over by the stairs but still in sight of the kitchen doorway. "Well, it might be nice for you to have a little change, right?"
Weren't the last several days a whole series of stupid changes, changes no one wanted or needed? "Yea, you're probably right." What did he know anyway?
Harry came in and sat down next to me. Once again, everyone was standing around in an uncomfortable silence because I had said something stupid. Dad continued to fidget with the Prophet while Mum hung pots and pans around in an attempt to cover up the silence. But no one said anything.
Just the moment before I thought I would run from the room, Harry spoke up, "Don't you want to go see what she did?"
Yes I did, desperately. But I also feared it with an even greater magnitude. Just what had she done to my room, my sanctuary, my domain? "I'll go look at it later. It's not like the room's going to change again in the next few hours."
Well, the room didn't change again on me, but it was both worse and better then I expected. She had put violet drapes around the bed and lavender ones on the windows. A rug (yet another shade of purple) covered the now shiny wooden floor. The furniture gleamed white, and I started to cry.
Was nothing sacred anymore?
Was I doomed to remember The Music Room forever?
Was life punishing me?
No, nothing was sacred and would never be again.
Yes, I was doomed forever and more.
Life wasn't punishing me; it was more of a planned situational unpleasantness.
Lovely.
"Oh Ginny!" He groaned. "Don't do this—we can't—I—" His words were cut off by another moan.
"Yes, you can! Everyone can learn how to dance! Just—" I pushed his elbow up and firmly grasped his hand. "Just hold your frame!"
"Like this?" He asked, keeping his arms steady but managed to still rub intimately against me.
"Okay, I think that's enough for today." I shook my head and moved away.
He followed me across the room to the pitcher of water. "All this dancing has made me really thirsty." His breath tickled my ear. "You wouldn't be able to help me with that, would you?" His lips trailed a light path from my ear to my lips while his hands gently caressed my hips. "Please?"
"My parents—" I murmured, melting beneath him. "The others—Ron—" But I turned to meet his lips without hesitation.
He seemed to be as content as I was with just light kisses and lighter touches. My fingers trailed up the back of his neck and into his hair, and a need flared up between us. Suddenly it wasn't enough to just kiss, and he took over with a passion.
"Your parents—" He panted softly, pushing me harder against the wall.
"Are out right now, so kiss me!"
My breath was harsh and irregular as if I had asthma…or slightly erotic dreams. Trembling, I stood and paced the room, unsure of what I wanted to do. These dreams were getting out of hand.
If this were Malfoy Manor, I would have gone out to find Lilla or some other house elf for some company. Lilla would have cooed and coddled me, probably fixed me some hot cocoa too. And if we ran into Draco, well, he'd either fix me with that stare that could melt my stomach or recommend a nighttime stroll in the gardens. He would probably say a good little walk would put me right in the mood for sleeping, and then volunteer to give me a tour of the gardens.
But I didn't want that. I didn't want to remember Draco or to stir up long ago recollections. Perhaps a cup of warm milk would settle my…mind. Yea, settle my mind, or make everything worse.
If only those damn dreams would cease and desist, that would make the night much more bearable. Sleeping for once, all the way through the night, without waking up from some dream, would be wonderful. But one night wasn't enough.
"Couldn't sleep either?" Harry asked, his eyes and hair drooping over his own cup of milk.
I smiled at him. "Just like old times, huh?" Strange, two weeks ago really felt like old times.
He frowned. "Yea, 'cept I'm not an insomniac, and you're avoiding sleep instead of desperate for it."
"Okay, so not really." I turned away to face the stove and put a pan on it. "I know it'd be easier to heat the milk magically, but there's just something about doing it by hand." Something unbelievably soothing about it.
Harry stretched, leaning backwards over the chair. "I decided to start a garden, but I don't know if I should plant vegetables or flowers?"
"Why ask me? I don't know." The milk sputtered as it hit the hot pan. "Whichever you want."
"Doesn't really matter, I guess. I just want something to take care of. Maybe I'll get a dog instead."
Just the smell of warm milk made me sleepy. "Everybody needs something to nurture, keeps 'em in touch with the world." Warm milk always put me to sleep. My head lulled off to the side as the smell of the milk got to my brain. "Maybe I ought to get the dog."
He laughed. "Come on, let's get you back up to bed, before you fall asleep standing there."
"'Kay." I leaned over and rested my head on his shoulder. "I am feeling tired."
We walked slowly, and I leaned on him heavily. My rock, my protector, he'd always been there to see that no harm ever came to me.
"She doesn't need your smothering protection. She needs to get out!"
"Harry," I whispered. "I love you."
"I love you, too, Gin."
"Ginevra Weasley! You get out of bed right this instant!" I jerked straight up, confused and fully awake. "This house is an absolute disaster!" Mum screamed.
It was Saturday.
"I'm up," I groaned. "Give me a minute." It didn't take long for me to throw on old clothes and march down to the kitchen.
"She's gathering her army." Harry muttered, standing at attention. "Welcome to the war, Private Ginny."
I giggled. "Guess we better arm ourselves appropriately."
"I have just one question. Who are we up against? The house or your Mum?" He gave the mop an odd look. "And just what is that? Aunt Petunia had some interesting cleaning tools, but none of them doubles as a torture device."
"Alright, Ginny, you have the upstairs floors and the bathrooms. Arthur, that garage had better be spotless and do NOT spend the whole day with those stupid gadgets! Harry, you can clean the living room, and I'll take care of the kitchen."
Harry snapped a little salute at her back and marched into the living room. She did tend to give orders like a general on cleaning days. At least none of us had anything too hard, like de-gnome-ing the garden. That would be next week's chore.
The work didn't take too long either. With just four people living in the house, it tended to get a lot less dirty then when there were nine of us. And I really didn't mind the cleaning; at least it gave me something to do.
"The Madame General's coming for an inspection," Harry shouted up the stairs. "Hope you've got good news for her."
How could I not laugh after that? George used to shout things like that up at me, particularly on Saturday. "Aye, aye, sir!"
It didn't take me long to finish up with my list, and Mum didn't have much else in mind for me either. Both Harry and I passed the inspection with flying colors and were playing a game of exploding snap after an hour and a half. Dad didn't get off so lucky.
"Dun dun dudun," Harry hummed a funeral march underneath his breath as Mum walked out into the garage. "He's going to get it now."
And sure enough, Mum's voice could be heard through the door. "I thought I told you to CLEAN the garage, not make it a BIGGER mess! What on earth have you been doing out here? Building the gnomes houses?"
We both exploded into laughter.
It was a late night. Harry brought over a bunch of VHS thingies and VDVs—or was it DVDs? I think it's the latter, but whatever. He brought over a bunch of them, and we stayed up late watching them. We were probably up until one or two in the morning because of it, so we just decided to sleep down in the living room.
"Is she ever going to wake up?" Ron asked. "Should we force her to get up?"
"Shut-up Ron!" Hermione smacked him playfully on the arm. "She got in late last night."
I tried to block out their voices.
"Yea, that's why I wanna wake her up. Just what was she doing that she didn't get back in until 2:30?" Ron grumbled, and I peeked open an eye at him.
"S'none of your business y'old busybody." I rolled over and grinned. He hated it when I called him that.
"Lazy bum! Get out of bed!" He yanked the blankets off of me.
"Hey! For your information, I was making a potential ally out of an enemy, and he wouldn't let me leave until I was 'fully convinced of his sincerity.' Bloody git." I growled and swung my feet over the edge of the bed.
"Who?" Harry, Ron, and Hermione demanded at the same time.
Someone in the corner laughed. "Isn't it obvious? I mean, he's been dogging her feet for the last few days trying to get up the nerve!"
I grinned at him. "He has, hasn't he?"
"Who?" Ron grabbed the front of my pajamas in an attempt to shake the answer from my lips.
"Why, Malfoy of course." He said laughing at their stunned faces.