The Locked Room
Chapter 8: Heavy Hearts
The dimmed streetlamps did nothing to penetrate the gloom felt by all on this misty, preoccupied evening. Charlie Perkins was one of several people licking their emotional wounds that night, and after looking blankly around his flat for a few minutes, he could only think of one thing to do. He directed his steps towards the Leaky Cauldron. He knew Hermione wouldn't be back, she gave him a look that said as much. As he took a seat on one of the creaking barstools, he tried not to think about her, but this was the very pub where they had had their first date. He ordered a Firewhiskey and wondered what had happened that evening to make her run out on him as she did. His glass was sweating, and as he ran his fingers along the condensation he realized what she had whispered into his ear earlier. It was the name "Ron" and he hadn't even noticed it. Could he have really been in love with her, or was he just infatuated with the idea of her?
There was something about Hermione that he could never quite understand. She was never completely there with him, not even when they were alone. She was always far off, thinking of something else. Charlie had wanted to pin down her gaze, he wanted to turn her thoughts to him and lock them there. Her mind spun like a top most of the time, and he was always in awe of the mystery surrounding her logical processes. He would glance at her sometimes, and he knew she was lost in thought. He had the most terrible impulses to ask her what she was thinking. He never really found out, however, and now she was gone.
He took a large swig of his Firewhiskey and choked on it. Anything, he thought, to drown out that emptiness. The people in the pub came and went and Charlie began to ruminate about this Ron Weasley, and why Hermione was so crazy about him. The Weasleys had always been famous at Hogwarts for one thing or another. Charlie distinctly remembered the hoaxes and pranks of the twins, and only vaguely recalled Percy, the older brother who became the most obnoxiously pompous Head Boy he had ever had the misfortune to meet. And now Hermione, the one woman he had ever really respected, was subject to this unknown Weasley brother. Taking another swig of his drink, the room began to sway. He vaguely noticed someone had seated themselves next to him. He saw a veil of black hair, and splotches of a tear-stained face.
"Marie?" he asked slightly groggily. The woman next to him turned to face him. It was indeed Marie Chang, looking very distraught.
"Hullo, Charlie," she said very quietly, completely unlike her usual brisk greetings at work.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked quite bluntly. It must have been something awfully important to cause Marie to lose her sense of decorum.
"Oh, it's nothing really… I just had a date that didn't go so well."
"What happened?" he asked with a tone more gentle as he leaned conspiratorially in towards her. He watched her debate with herself whether to tell him or not, but something won out in favor of disclosure and she began whispering the tale to him.
"I was at Ron Weasley's flat," she began ashamedly almost, "and I didn't know Hermione Granger lived with him. We ate dinner, Ron and me, and then I… well, I suppose I had too much wine, and then Hermione came in and saw us. I didn't mind, really, but Ron did and he forced me out of the flat. I think Hermione got quite mad at him, actually," she admitted. "I don't know why she was in such a strop when she has you, Charlie. Maybe she just doesn't like me associating with her friends…." Marie sunk her lovely head into her folded arms and Charlie felt what seemed like a pang of pity for her, and something else. He wanted to comfort her. They were both pawns in this game of Hermione's and that Weasley fellow.
"Well, Hermione doesn't have me anymore," Charlie admitted, going along with the confessional mood of the evening. "She walked out on me tonight after she said Ron's name instead of mine." Marie looked at him with awe. She looked like she felt a little better yet simultaneously ten times worse.
"I'm sorry things didn't work out, you two always looked like you really admired each other."
"I'm sorry things didn't work out with you and Weasley, either. And yet I'm not sorry… who needs them to be happy? They're obviously crazy about each other, and we were just taken along for the ride." Marie's face brightened up at this. Charlie looked at her, still dripping with tears yet smiling warmly at him. "Let me buy you a drink," he said nodding at the bartender.
BREAK
A few minutes after Hermione had left the Burrow, conversation broke out in an uproar. They all started speculating about what would happen between Ron and Hermione, and they each shared their separate pieces of gossip with relish. Mr. Weasley said that Perkins at the office had mentioned that Charlie, his nephew once-removed, had been mooning about quite a lot lately and seemed not to be listening when Perkins talked to him about the biting doorknob epidemic in Chiswick, but then he never really did pay attention.
Ginny was not soothed by the unruly atmosphere and ran her hands through her hair in distress. She needed to get out. Running up to her room, Ginny grabbed her coat and popped into town. The streets were damply glistening from rain or the threat of it, and the solitude of the nearly-empty streets near the Ministry did much to calm her down. Whenever she had had enough of people in general, a few moments solitude could rejuvenate her. She thought she might need more than a few moments tonight to revive her spirits, but she didn't have much time to organize it, for there, walking on the other side of the street a few meters ahead of her was Harry. He was moving fast, almost purposeful. Ginny was overcome with curiosity. A moment was enough to undo the past year or so.
"Harry!" she shouted, heedless of the night crowding in around them. He stopped abruptly, as though he was a sleepwalker, waking from a dream. It only took a few seconds for Ginny to catch up to him. "Where are you going? It's late," she finished needlessly, inwardly kicking herself for suddenly acting like his keeper.
"I was just going to the Ministry," he said slowly, looking at her as though she had grown a second head.
"Work?"
"No, actually… Hermione said she was going there. She was really upset about something or other…" He kept trailing off.
"What happened?" Ginny encouraged him, although she herself couldn't concentrate very well.
"Ron had that date thing…"
"Yeah, Hermione came and told us about that, but why would she go to the Ministry?"
"Oh, she was just trying to get into that locked room."
"In the Department of Mysteries?"
"Yeah, the one we couldn't get into before."
"I remember. But can't she get into it since she works there?"
"Apparently not. Listen, did you want to come down there with me, just to make sure everything's alright?" He looked at her anxiously.
"If you'd like me to, of course I'll come with you." They fell into step immediately, walking quickly at first but eventually slowing down quite noticeably. The silence was unsettling to both of them, especially when compared with their former intimacy. Ginny found herself wringing her hands distractedly. She glanced over at Harry who had stuck his hands in his pockets and was staring straight at his feet, as if they would fly off if he didn't keep an eye on them.
"Listen, Ginny, I um… I'm really sorry we haven't spoken in a while." Ginny didn't say a thing but waited for him to go on. "I just haven't been myself since the war ended, and I – I regret that we've lost touch. Merlin, I'm such a prat," he whispered under his breath.
"It's alright, Harry. I think I understand… a little. I just didn't know what to do when you didn't want to talk, so I kept my distance. Otherwise I would have said something." Suddenly, Ginny grabbed his shoulder and spun him around so he was facing her and she had a hold of his arms. "Harry, I still care about you, and I know that's probably the last thing you want to hear right now, but there it is. I can't get over it unless you tell me it's not what you want. And even then I probably won't be able to get over it." Harry was looking at her at first, his green eyes faintly glowing in the lamplight and his hair a mess. The darkness had partially concealed his face, but she watched him glance down at the pavement sorrowfully.
"Ginny, I… I'm afraid of hurting you again. I can't bear to see you sad, it's not like you, and I'm afraid I'll just make you more miserable. I'm not much of an optimist these days." He shrugged off her grip and turned to keep walking down the street. She stood there, baffled for a while before taking off after him. Her footsteps slapped on the wet pavement.
"What makes you think I'd be miserable if we were…" she died off awkwardly. "And what do have to be pessimistic about? The war is over, you defeated him! I know you lost a lot of good friends in the process but at least you'll never have to go through that again, Harry. And there are still a lot of people left who care about you, me included, no matter how scarred you came out in the end." Ginny looked at him with panic in her eyes. It felt like their whole future depended on this one conversation.
"Ginny, it wouldn't be the same. I'm different and so are you. Everyone has changed."
"I may be different but that doesn't mean my feelings for you are different!" she shouted passionately. He had gained a few yards on her, and she was feeling extremely frustrated. He stopped when he heard the tone of her voice. She knew she was on the verge of tears and did nothing to check them.
"I'm so sick of dreaming about you, Harry! I'm tired of worrying about you, knowing that you're thinking I don't care for you anymore. That's not how it is! I can be just as stubborn as you, Harry James Potter, if not more so! So you're just going to have to live with me, because I'm not going anywhere," she gasped out between choking sobs.
It took a few seconds, but eventually Harry walked over to her and slightly awkwardly enfolded her in his arms. He smelled the same and yet a trifle different, as though the past year had tweaked him slightly. His bare arms were cold, but the rest of him was warm and inviting. Ginny gradually stopped crying and nestled her head under his chin, as he was at least a whole head taller than her.
"I'm sorry for the last year, Ginny, but I loved you too much to talk to you," he whispered. She choked out something that was halfway between a scoff and a laugh.
"You always were ridiculously and overly noble. Please don't be noble and self-sacrificing anymore, it's not working out."
"Fine, I'll be jealous and demanding and never leave you alone for one minute, how does that sound?" he smirked a little, his green eyes glinting mischievously.
"Ideal," she replied.
BREAK
Breathless and still upset, Hermione arrived at the telephone box outside the Ministry and collapsed against the wall of the booth as she picked up the greasy receiver and dialed 62442. She said her name and waited as she gradually sank down into the bowels of London's secret underground.
It was a bitter mission she was on, she reflected as she arrived in the atrium. Looking around her, she was reminded of that night three years ago when she and the others had rushed down here to "save" Sirius, only to be ambushed by Death Eaters. She had not to think about that night every day she was at work because it sent shivers up and down her back. Hermione never liked to admit she was frightened about something, especially if she could fully comprehend it. But there was something eerie about the Atrium that evening with the lamps dimmed and the fountain gurgling unobtrusively. It was too quiet, and she thought about fifth year and how they had all been so tense and expectant that night. It was rather how she felt right now.
She didn't really know what she expected to find inside that locked room. Obviously she had no idea what could be in there, since nothing she had found could tell her a thing about it. What was it about that locked room that had her so bewitched? She wondered about that as she stealthily made her way over to the lifts. The grilles slid shut smoothly and the voice above her began listing off the floors as she made her descent.
Once she arrived on level nine, the doors slid open and there was the hallway Harry had so fastidiously dreamt of. Taking a deep breath as though she hadn't walked down this hallway hundreds of times to and from work everyday, she marched steadily down the hall. She grasped the doorknob as if it were something foreign to her. She tried to steady herself by telling herself that she shouldn't be afraid, and what with everything going on with Ron she had bigger things to be upset about, but she couldn't believe it. Everything hinged on this night, she knew without a doubt. Stepping into the little circular rooms, she felt she knew which door it was without having to think about it. Her hand was drawn to one of the doors on her left. She could practically feel her hand being pulled towards it.
When she made contact with the cold doorknob she had only to twist it gently and the door yielded to her, like it had only been waiting for her to try it all this while. All of her nervous shaking had by now melted away as she was gently drawn into the room by invisible hands.
Immediately, all she could see was darkness. Then she heard scuffling in a corner and a dim light glowing there. She closed her eyes tighter to see what it was. When she recognized it, she drew in her breath with a sharp gasp and fainted away on the cold marble floor.