The Black Lake

Chapter 4

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Ginny Weasley sat at the bottom of the lake, her tears long lost to the water that surrounded her.

How long had it been?

Hours?

Days?

Time was nothing to her anymore, and soon neither were her memories. She remained in a trance-like state- occasionally looking upwards towards the surface of the lake.

Waiting.

She was waiting for... someone. Someone with dark hair. A boy. A cruel boy...

She felt eyes on her before she saw them. Over a deep ravine a group of creatures lithely swam over. Long green hair flowed in the current, and yellow eyes fixed upon her. Faces that looked human- but also inhuman- came closer to her, with long fishtails propelling them forward.

Terrified, she backed away wide-eyed, covering her chest with her arms. Her movements halted their approach. Several of the males of the group held spears, but they were resting non-threateningly at their sides. To the side of the group, and elderly male, grey skin full of wrinkles, wore some type of headdress, adorned with pebbles and shells. He held a staff, which was similarly adorned. Next to him was a younger male, similarly dressed. The group looked stoically at the girl. One of the creatures, a female, left the middle of the group and swam towards her. Ginny knew immediately that she was of great importance, for the group immediately bowed in respect as she passed by them. She had an elaborate necklace of pebbles, and her green hair was woven with shells. Upon her head lay a crown made of driftwood. Around her waist was a sash that looked to be woven from the water plants. Her yellow eyes looked the redhead up and down, considering her.

Ginny clutched her arms around herself more tightly, leaning away from the approaching female. The Lake Mermaids had not been known to be friendly creatures. The female stopped. Her wizened and powerful face was calm, and she wielded no weapon. One slender grey hand reached out to her, palm up.

"Come."

The Mermaid's voice carried perfectly in the water, a deep and ethereal sound. Ginny eyed that hand warily, not reaching back out to her.

"I can't," Ginny said quietly. "I need to stay here. I'm waiting for someone."

The mermaid slowly retracted her hand back, face unreadable. She stared at Ginny for several moments, before turning and looking over her shoulder, giving a nod to the group of Mermen behind her. They each gave a deep bow in response to her gesture, before turning and swimming away. The elderly Merman and his younger companion were the last to leave. They spoke to each other in an odd language. When they finally did leave, they looked reluctant to do so. Ginny watched them swim away with a great sense of relief, though she still clutched her arms tightly around her chest. The Mermaid in front of her slowly drew her hands down to the sash on her waist, just where the human-ish waist became Mermaid tail. She slowly untied the sash until it fell from around her waist. Holding it up, she reached over to Ginny, who was surprised enough that she did not move. Gently, almost reverently, the mermaid wrapped the sash carefully around Ginny's shoulders. The sash was cool and smooth on her bare skin, but looking down, Ginny saw that it was large enough to hide her bare chest and back from view. A lump rose in her throat, as she looked back up at the mermaid.

"Thank you." She whispered.

The Mermaid gave her a gentle nod, yellow eyes studying her before turning and swimming away toward the deeper waters of the lake, where the group of Mermen had disappeared. Ginny clutched the sash around herself more tightly, feeling a great sense of comfort from it. A thought arose in the back of her mind. She was supposed to be doing something... something important.

She glanced up at the surface of the lake. Someone was coming for her, someone important.

She would stay.

She would wait.

But no one would come.

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"What?"

"My name is Íde."

"Oh."

Disappointment filled Harry Potter from head to toe. Íde. Not Ginny. He had been so sure, so confident in his theory. But no, this beautiful girl- this Mermaid- was simply a doppelganger of a former student who had met a tragic end.

"So... okay. Alright. Your name is Íde." He looked over at her, knowing he was grasping at straws. "You aren't... you aren't named Ginny Weasley?"

Something flickered in her eyes, and her brow furrowed.

"Ginny?" She repeated.

"Yes," Harry prodded hopefully, "Do you know the name?"

The flicker in her eyes died, and she slowly moved her head back and forth.

"No."

Harry adjusted his hands on the rock, as the water lapped against him, the conversation making him impervious to the cold.

"Oh."

He glanced back up at her, trying to hide his disappointment. "I'm sorry, it's just, you look just like her, and I thought maybe you were her." He ran a hand through his wet hair. "But I suppose you were never a student up at the school, were you?"

The girl looked over towards the shoreline that faced the school.

"Hogwarts."

She seemed to say the word more to herself than to him.

"Yes, that's right," he nodded, "You know about the school?"

An odd look crossed her face. It looked somewhere between frustration and confusion.

"I-" she started, then shook her head. "No."

"That's alright," Harry said, gently treading the water. "I wasn't sure if you did. The Merpeople probably don't have much to do with the school from what I've been told."

Íde's dark eyes were studying him carefully.

"Have I seen you before?" She asked quietly.

"Oh! Um, well, I've been walking around the lake a lot, you might have seen me then."

Her eyes continued to search his face. Her close proximity made him feel like he had left the lake and slipped into a warm bath.

"Before that?" She asked.

Harry tried not to gulp. It was hard to focus on what she was saying when she was this close.

"Er, no," Harry coughed. "I'd never been down to the lake before. We wouldn't have met before then. You're actually the first Mermaid I've ever-"

His sentence was abruptly cut off when Íde did something that caused his limbs to freeze and his heart to pound. She leaned forward to him and brought her hands up to his face. Gently, her cool fingers ever so slightly grazing the skin of his face, she took off his glasses. His green eyes met hers, and it was all he could do to control his breathing. Finally, she broke the silence.

"No," she whispered, "You're not him."

Gently, she placed the glasses back on his face. Harry finally gulped in some air.

"I'm not who?"

"Him." She emphasized, her eyes widening slightly. "The boy..."

"What boy? Who was he?"

Her face unreadable, she shook her head again. Her mouth opened and closed hesitantly a few times as she struggled to find her words.

"He had dark hair. Dark hair like yours. But... different." She examined his features again. "And his eyes..."

Harry felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the lake water. For a moment, the only sounds were the gentle lapping of wave on rock.

"What was his name?"

"I don't- I don't remember."

"Oh. Was it a long time ago?"

She didn't answer, and he took in the pained expression on her face. He could feel the anxiety wafting off of her in waves. She was gripping the boulder white-knuckled, and worrying her bottom lip. Her nervousness heightened his senses.

"Did he hurt you?"

She took several moments to answer, but Harry remained patient.

"He wasn't... good."

She seemed unwilling- or perhaps, unable – to say anything more about it, and he felt her withdrawing.

"Is that why you hide from me? Did you think I might be him?"

One of her hands began fiddling with something around her neck. She gave a little shrug, looking away from him. She looked ready to pull away again, leaning away from the boulder they both clung to. He wasn't ready for her to leave.

"Wait," he said gently, reaching out and touching her arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Don't leave, please."

She turned back to him, a lock of wet hair falling around a bare shoulder. He gave her a gentle smile.

"Tell me about the lake, Íde."

"The lake?" She repeated slowly.

Harry chuckled.

"Yes, the lake. Tell me, I want to know all about it." I want to know all about you. "You're the first Mermaid I've ever met. What's it like?"

Suddenly looking shy, she looked out across the water.

"Is it nice down there?" Harry asked, nodding his head towards the water.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I suppose it's nice."

Sensing he would need to keep initiating conversation, Harry went on encouragingly.

"That water is so cold to me," he said, feeling his limbs begin to tremble. "I nearly froze when I got it. In fact, I need to get out of the water before I freeze to death."

He repositioned his hands on the boulder. Before he heaved himself out, he paused, turning to Íde.

"Íde, I need to get out of the water. When I get out, I need to use my wand to warm myself up. Is that alright?"

"Wand?" She repeated, looking immediately alarmed.

"Yes," he said, placing a hand on hers. "I'm only going to use it for a moment. Remember, I'm your friend, I'm not going to hurt you, alright? You don't have to be afraid."

She clenched the boulder nervously.

"Íde, I want to keep talking to you. Promise me you won't run away?"

She glanced out to the middle of the lake, looking like she would like nothing more than to do just that. Turning back to him, she gave a reluctant nod.

"Good," Harry said, giving her a smile. He heaved himself out of the water, his body nearly numb at this point. Turning away from Íde, and praying she didn't break her promise and bolt, he quickly used his wand to dry and warm himself. Giving a sigh of relief as he felt the numbness and tremors recede, he hid his wand in his trousers before turning back to Íde. She had pulled herself out of the water and was now perched on the edge of the rock. She was eyeing him suspiciously, and he adjusted his shirt so she couldn't see the wand. She watched him closely as he sat down next to her.

"See?" He said, holding his hands up in a placating manner, "Nothing to worry about from me."

She nodded, and the corner of her lip quirked up a bit. Almost a smile. Almost.

"Don't you get cold down there?" He asked.

Her eyes followed the movements of his hands as he rubbed his arms.

"I don't feel the cold."

Harry stopped, taking that in.

"Really? Well... actually, that makes perfect sense. Must be kind of nice to never feel the cold."

He took a moment to glance at the generous expanse of skin her current attire offered him. Her top allowed him to see most of her upper body. He knew from the light touches he had given her that her skin was smooth and cool to the touch. He couldn't see any evidence of the cold bothering her. Right now, however, the sun was peeking out through the clouds, reflecting on her tail and shining on her bare shoulders and back.

"Do you feel the warmth?" He asked.

She seemed to think hard for a moment, and one hand creeped up to her neck.

"I don't think so," she said, fingering something around her neck. "Not really." She began scooting herself to the edge of the rock again, placing her hands down on either side of her.

"Oh, wait," Harry said, scooting forward, "do you have to go?"

Without answering, she lowered herself down off the rock. She submerged herself completely and for a disappointing moment, Harry thought she had once again fled to the deep. Just as quickly as she was out of sight she reappeared, resurfacing. Now freshly soaked head to toe, she moved her long wet hair out of her face. She turned back round to face him where he sat, propping her forearms on the rock and looking up at him.

"I need the water," she said. "I can't be out of it for long."

"Oh. But you were only out for a minute?"

"The water is more comfortable. Especially if I'm... nervous."

She gave him a shy smile that sent his insides into flip-flops. He thought it was brilliant and made a mental note to elicit that look on her again. Propped on the rock, her tail resting in the water, he could see the seashell top she wore and its curious embellishments. The curves of her chest sent his heart racing, and he felt the heat creeping up his neck. With great determination, he managed to pry his gaze away. She didn't seem to notice the inappropriateness of his gaze, or if she did, she did not let on. He managed to focus his eyes elsewhere, looking at her neck. A tiny, pearl-like pebble lay around it on a delicate string.

"Thats a very nice necklace," he said, trying hard not to swallow his tongue, "I've never seen anything like that before."

She touched one delicate finger to the necklace, feeling the oddly shaped edges.

"It's a keshi pearl," she said, her eyes glazing over a bit. "It was a gift."

"Oh. So, how many of you are down there?"

She looked surprised by his question.

"We have several villages."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Then how come you are the only Mermaid I've seen? How come you guys don't come up here all the time?" He remembered Hagrid mentioning the rarity it was to see them... and the lake was certainly large, but if there were several villages there had to be hundreds of them.

Her nervousness returned- he already knew her tells. Her fingers fidgeted on the rock she held on to.

"Wizards have not always been kind to the Merpeople."

Harry winced inwardly at that statement. He had seen first-hand the injustices wrought upon magical creatures and beasts by the Ministry. He had heard stories from Sirius about the attempted exterminations of creatures Voldemort had thought inferior.

"Some years ago," Íde continued, "they surfaced and... something horrible happened."

"What happened?"

Her fidgeting increased, and she looked away sadly.

"A curse... A curse meant to end the Merpeople. They have suffered from it ever since. We have a Shaman in our village, and he and his son have spent years trying to break it."

"Oh. Can they do magic? Have they tried spells? Or a curse-breaker?"

She shook her head.

"The Shaman and the Queen, they have magic. But it is... limited."

"We have wizards who break curses. Maybe they could help?"

She shook her head again.

"The Queen would never allow it. She would not permit humans to enter the villages. She speaks occasionally to a man, but no other contact is allowed. The Merpeople are not... forgiving, with how they have been treated, or what has been done to them."

"The curse you mean?"

"Yes," she nodded. "And more."

He wanted to ask more, but didn't want to pry.

"We are not to surface unless absolutely necessary," she continued, taking a small breath, "the Queen and the villagers do not allow it."

Harry raised his eyebrow at this.

"And yet, you came to the surface," he smiled wryly. "You're here now."

Her eyes snapped up to his.

"You called me to you."

She said the words as if they should have been obvious. But whatever had been obvious about that statement was lost on him.

"I did?" He asked, absentmindedly rubbing his neck.

"Yes."

"I didn't even... I mean, how did I call you to me?"

"I'm not sure," she said slowly, tilting her head to the side, "You just... did."

"And they let you come? The Queen and the villagers, I mean?"

"I had to come. They know I had to." She shrugged, then looked downcast. "But, they are... not pleased."

"Alright," Harry said slowly, his thoughts a swirl of confusion. "But you tried to hide from me anyway."

"I'm supposed to hide."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she rested her chin on her forearm. "It's just this... feeling, I guess."

Every word she said was bringing puzzle pieces to Harry's mind, though he couldn't seem to put any of them together.

"But you aren't hiding anymore. You know you don't need to hide from me, right? I would never hurt you."

Brown eyes locked on green.

"Yes," she breathed, and he could see her complete honesty. "I know that now."

Harry allowed himself to be mesmerized for a moment by her. She seemed so relaxed now, content to speak with him, and he allowed her gaze to study him in return. Though her face was mostly impassive as they stared at each other, he could not deny the feeling of many secrets she held within her, and the spark of something in her dark eyes.

"Why are you here?" She asked.

It took Harry a moment to recover.

"What?" He blinked.

"Why are you here?"

"Oh! Er, I'm actually teaching up at the school-"

"No."

Íde's gaze had suddenly turned fierce. She reached out a hand and grabbed his.

"No," she repeated, giving his hand a squeeze, "What are you doing here?"

Utterly confused, Harry sputtered for a moment.

"Well, I don't-"

But the unintelligible answer he had been about to give was interrupted by a shrill, screeching noise echoing across the water. Íde whipped around towards the sound with a gasp. Harry leapt to his feet, looking out across the water and searching for the source of the noise he was sure he heard before, but saw nothing.

"I have to go," Íde said, lowering her hands into the water.

He looked down and she was already beginning to drift backwards away from the boulder. Worry etched her features.

"Wait," Harry said, walking to the edge of the boulder. "I still need to talk to you." And based on her last question, he wasn't the only one seeking answers.

Íde shook her head regretfully. "I'm sorry, I've stayed too long."

Harry's shoulders dropped in disappointment.

"When can I see you?"

She was floating further away from him. Only her head still remained above the water. Her hair in the water seemed to glow with the light of the setting sun.

"Can we meet here again?" He called out to her.

She bit her lip again.

"I'll try."

With those last words, her head disappeared below the water of the lake, and Harry knew he was once again alone.

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One week later, Harry was beginning to wonder if he was suffering some type of addiction.

He had not seen Íde in exactly seven days. He had gone to the Lake every afternoon but had been unable to locate the Mermaid. The absence of seeing her seemed to be ticking away at his mind. He was irritable, he couldn't concentrate, and his nights were full of fitful and disturbing dreams. Seeing Íde had somehow reaffirmed that he was still in his right mind, and now her absence once again left the door open to the fact that he may just be losing his sanity.

He was beginning to feel like he had back in Grimmauld place, just after The Day. In the dark confines of the aged house, he had become withdrawn, somber, and desperate to fill his mind with activities in order to avoid painful memories. In Grimmauld place, he spent hours scouring and destroying dark artifacts by day, and clinging to a bottle of Firewhiskey by night.

Until now, his current distractions were in the form of seeking out Íde, and revising his curriculum. But as Íde continued to elude him and he neared completion of his curriculum, his agitation was increasing. Unable to concentrate on his work today, he quickly walked down towards the great hall when he was nearly bowled over by Hagrid.

"Harry!" The man bellowed, giving a whiskery smile, "Jus the man I need to see."

Harry recovered himself, tamping down his annoyance.

"Hi, Hagrid."

"So, listen, Harry, I- are you alright?"

Harry avoided Hagrid's gaze, knowing the half-giant was probably gawking at his pale face and sleep-deprived eyes. He had caught his own disconcerting reflection this morning, but hadn't thought to put any glamours on himself. A mistake he would be sure to avoid in the future. He put his fidgeting hands in his pockets to still them.

"I'm fine. Did you need something?"

"Oh, er, right. Well, McGonagall asked me ter keep an eye out on the lake for anything odd, and I just happened to meet up with one o' the Merpeople today-"

"Íde?" Harry interrupted, "You saw her?"

Hagrid's bushy brow furrowed.

"What? I don't know about an Íde. No, I saw the village Shaman. Been a while since I seen him. But I got to thinking about what you said you saw the other day. Now, mind ya, my Mermish isn't fluent, but I asked him if he's seen anything unusual at the lake, or seen anyone there that don't belong there..."

Harry's ears were ringing.

"And? What did he say?"

"Nothin," Hagrid said with a shrug, "He said he ain't seen nothing unusual down there, nothing or no one that shouldn't be there."

Harry's heart plummeted.

"Oh."

Hagrid rubbed his large hands together. "I know ya thought something sinister was going on down there but I thought you'd be relieved to know it was nothin."

Harry felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck.

"Yeah, no. I was- I was wrong."

Hagrid continued smiling, clearly thinking he had just delivered good news. "Yep. McGonagall told me if I saw them to ask the Merpeople if someone was there that shouldn't be. So don't let it worry you no more."

Harry plastered on a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Hagrid. I appreciate you asking."

Harry immediately turned on his foot and began walking quickly down the corridor. Pounding footsteps told him Hagrid was following him.

"Now, hold on there, Harry, I'm not finished."

Harry paused, though it took great effort to do so. He wanted to be alone. Hagrid raised his eyebrows at him.

"I heard today's yer birthday."

Harry couldn't help it, his feet started moving again of their own accord, not knowing where they were taking him. He spoke as he walked, though it took little effort on Hagrid's part to keep up.

"Er, yeah, it is, I guess."

"You guess?" Hagrid chuckled. "Well, we want to celebrate with ya, the staff an all. We want to take ye down to Rosmerta's tonight. Some drinks and some good pub food. Sound good?"

Harry didn't stop walking.

"Actually, I'd rather not."

Hagrid looked flabbergasted.

"No? Blimey you don't want to celebrate? Or did ya have plans with yer friends?"

"I don't have any friends," Harry said quickly. He was stopped in his tracks when Hagrid's hand came down on his shoulder, halting him.

"Course you have friends, Harry," Hagrid said gently, "Got me an McGonagall at least, don't ya?"

Harry felt a bit of guilt spring up at that. Hagrid had been nothing but kind to him since his arrival. It wasn't his fault Harry was socially... whatever he was.

He gave Hagrid a weak smile.

"Of course, Hagrid. You've been a very good friend."

Hagrid beamed for a moment, but it was short-lived. He looked down at Harry sadly.

"You shouldn' be alone though, Harry. It's not right."

Harry turned away, shrugging slightly.

"I'm used to it."

In fact, he preferred it. Especially recently. So what if he was a bit of a loner-

The thought was interrupted when he suddenly realized where his feet had taken him. A portrait was right in front of him, and a pretty face was smiling back at him.

Damn his feet for betraying him.

Hagrid followed his gaze to the redhead.

"Did ya know any of the Weasleys?" Hagrid asked.

Harry released a breath of frustration.

"No. I didn't."

"Oh," Hagrid breathed softly, voice and eyes suddenly filled with emotion. "Good people. Such good people they were." He began gesturing to the various pictures of the Weasleys, and Harry found his gaze wandering away from the youngest Weasley and listening to Hagrid's accounts of the rest of the family.

"Arthur and Molly, they were the firs' killed. They worked with Professor Dumbledore for years. Never met a kinder folk. Then there's Bill, he's the oldest, poor bloke had just been married not too long before..."

Harry listened intently, studying each redhead as Hagrid gave an account of the family's tragedy. He surprised himself at the lack of guilt and sadness he felt... because as Hagrid spoke of this family, he spoke with such pride, and in turn, Harry couldn't help but feel impressed at the bravery this family had shown.

"-and then of course, Ginny," Hagrid said with a watery smile, pointing to the portrait that Harry's feet had led him to. "She was the youngest..."

Hagrid's voice seemed to trail off, and Harry snapped his eyes to the man. He couldn't stop now...

"What was she like?" Harry asked softly.

Portrait Ginny was giving Hagrid a fond smile, and the large man shook himself. "Oh!" He gave a deep cough, and the smile returned to his face. "She was special. Kind of an enigma- she was a spitfire quick-tempered little thing, but her heart, now that was big. She could wrestle and argue with those brothers of hers, and a tough one she was. She always managed to get herself out of all sorts of scrapes, and havin' her brothers spoil her left and right. I mean, look at that smile! Don't it make you want to melt? And she knew it, too. Managed to wiggle her way outta more than one detention..."

Harry actually managed a chuckle. Oh, her smile definitely had done that. And more...

"But," Hagrid continued, "she always seemed to see the people who were overlooked; Outcasts and the like. She cared for them. Loved them. And she loved her critters and creatures, always bringing me hurt things she found on the grounds or in the forest. Her and Miss Lovegood had tea with me every Sunday after her first year..."

Hagrid glanced sideways at Harry, looking worried he had said too much. Harry nodded back at him.

"Professor McGonagall told me about her first year."

"Aye," Hagrid said with a sigh. "Terrible thing."

"It must have been horrible. I heard that's probably why Voldemort asked for her personally."

"Aye," Hagrid repeated. "That he did. That must have been the wors part of that night. Could hardly stand to watch. Her brothers were holding her down after they killed her mum and dad, she was screamin and crying to give her up to him. They wouldn't do it. She got away and ran outta the castle, led You-know-who away from us. I think she thought she was giving us all a chance."

Harry remained silent, hoping Hagrid would keep talking if he did. He had to know more.

"Couldn' say how many she saved by doin that," Hagrid continued, voice hoarse. "But it was too late for her brothers. An in the end I was the one who found... who found..."

"Found what?"

Great tears leaked out of Hagrid's black eyes.

"Blood..." He sobbed. "Blood a-and her clothes- all torn to shreds- and her wand snapped in p-pieces. There weren't even nothing left of her to bury. Tore Ron up something fierce. And she-she didn't deserve that, did she?" Hagrid pulled out a giant handkerchief, a with a sound like a foghorn blew his nose. Harry found himself feeling incredibly sorry for the man, and wished he could-

"Wait, do you mean... they never found her body?"

Hagrid gave two large swipes of his eyes and sniffed.

"No. But I seen it before Harry, and we saw it that night... there were dozens missing. Still are, but we know enough. Voldemort could blast a person into oblivion, and he sure did. But what I saw out there..." Hagrid trailed off again, but Harry looked at him expectantly, silently begging for as much as Hagrid was willing to divulge.

Hagrid shifted uncomfortably, but when his eyes went back to portrait Ginny, his tongue loosened once again.

"I don't know what he did to that poor girl, but what I found out there, what she must have suffered... stuff of nightmares."

Harry didn't disagree.

For several moments, they both stared at the youngest Weasley, each quietly contemplating their own thoughts.

As the two eventually left the corridor thoughts of missing bodies- of her missing body- tumbled around in his mind, battling with the knowledge that the Mermaids themselves had confirmed that Ginny Weasley was not among them.

It only seemed to push him further toward the edge of madness.

As if being pushed to the breaking point wasn't enough for the boy-who-lived, Harry was accosted by Professor McGonagall as he was heading down to dinner.

She stopped directly in front of him, looking morbidly stern.

"Potter," she said firmly, "My office, now."

Tilting his head back in resignation, Harry trudged behind her towards her office. Following her inside, he flopped down haphazardly into a chair, not caring how unprofessional he was behaving. Minerva frowned at him, before sitting in her chair, her back stiff as she regarded him.

"You look terrible, Potter."

"Thanks." He grumbled.

She raised her eyebrows in annoyance, then scoffed and held out a tin to him.

"Have a biscuit."

"I'm not hungry."

She set the tin down with a small slam.

"Well, that must be the case, seeing as you declined dinner."

"What? I was on my way-"

"I mean Rosmerta's, Potter." She interrupted.

Oh. Right.

"I don't like to make a big deal of it," he said with a shrug. "And I don't like... crowds."

Minerva studied him for a moment. He could tell she was searching for how truthful he was being, and despite the fact he hadn't exactly lied, he still fidgeted under her gaze.

"Very well," she said, tapping her fingers on her desk. "The last thing we would want to do is make you uncomfortable. But, I need you to know, that while you are here, the staff will be like your family. And I hope one day, you will allow us to treat you as such."

Harry didn't quite know what to say, so he only nodded. He made as if to get out of his seat, but Minerva held out a hand to stop him.

"I'm not finished," she said firmly. "I'll allow you to pass on this social event this one time, but don't think I haven't noticed you seem to be coping rather poorly these last few weeks."

"I'm fine."

"So you've said. But you look as though you haven't been sleeping. You've been taking most of your meals up to your room. You're isolating yourself."

"I- you-" Harry sputtered, feeling defensive, "I've gotten all my work done!"

"Indeed, you have, and it's been outstanding work. But what happens when that starts to slip as well? Merlin, what happens when the students arrive and you are forced to interact with them? Will you cancel classes to avoid the crowds?"

Harry glared at the wall.

"I admit," the Headmistress continued, "that I expected this type of behavior on The Day. But you seemed well enough then." She hesitated a moment. "Might this have anything to do with your activities down at the lake-"

"No," Harry interrupted quickly. "It doesn't."

The professor raised an eyebrow at him.

"Look," Harry breathed out, running his hands through his hair, "I thought it was Ginny Weasley down there, and I was wrong. There. Happy?"

"Oh, for Godric's sake," Minerva scoffed, rolling her eyes, "you are acting like a child, Potter. I know you still go down to the lake every day. What hold does it still have on you?"

"I just... go down there to relax. Sometimes I talk to Hagrid."

Minerva seemed to buy this, sitting back in her chair.

"I should tell you, Potter, that after we spoke I went down to the lake myself. I don't have the reputation with the Merpeople that Hagrid has, but I searched as well as I could. As much as I wanted it to be true, I found nothing. Hagrid was able to confirm this."

"I know," Harry murmured.

"Good." Minerva gave a curt nod and gestured to the door. "Now, go get your dinner. And for Merlin's sake eat a slice of cake at least."

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Only hours later, Harry slept fitfully.

He should have known before he had even closed his eyes that he would be engulfed in a nightmare. He had felt the instinctual rise of dread in the back of his mind, but had spent the last moments of consciousness dwelling on his ever-present obsession with his redheaded siren. His last thoughts were pleasant enough, but not quite so much as to overpower what loomed in the background.

Sirius was gripping his shoulders and shaking him.

"You have to go, Harry. You have to get there."

They were in a graveyard, surrounded by a circle of masked Death Eaters. Spells came flying from their wands, all of them pointed towards Sirius.

"Go, now!" He shouted, shoving Harry to the ground before being overcome by a dozen spells hitting him at once.

Harry tried to cry out, tried to grasp for his godfather, but he was gone.

He was alone in a corridor. It was dark save for a small, dim light at the very end. Harry scrambled to his feet, wand drawn, cautiously making his way towards the light. It seemed to take him hours, the corridor wanting to stretch unnaturally as he moved. Throwing his caution away he ran, skidding to a halt at the end.

The dim light was illuminating a large, beautiful painting.

It was her.

It was Ginny Weasley's painting, except it wasn't. The Ginny in this portrait was terrified. She had lost her broom at some point and seemed to be frantically trying to figure out a way to escape her frame. Her little fists were pounding the painting, and her dark eyes were wide and filled with fear. Harry drew nearer, searching the portrait for the source of her distress. Immediately he noticed her feet were ankle-deep in the water, and it was steadily rising. Seeing him, her thrashing fists became even more frantic. Her mouth was opening, through her cries were silent.

She was shouting- begging- him for help.

Harry touched the painting with both hands.

"What do I do? How do I help you?"

The water was near her waist now, with no sign of stopping. Ginny was only looking more frantic and terrified as the water rose.

"Ginny, calm down," Harry soothed, fighting his own fear, "I'll get you out of there."

No sooner had the words left his mouth the water was over Ginny's head. She kicked up to the surface where he saw her take a silent gasp of air, coughing and sputtering. Harry was near panic. She was treading water now, but her wet robes were weighing her down, and the water was nearly to the top of the painting.

She was going to drown.

"Ginny!" Harry shouted at the portrait. "How do I help you? Tell me what to do!"

But the water had reached the top of the painting, and the girl was trapped beneath the water. He watched her struggle as he agonized over what to do. Her movements slowed down.

"No!" Harry shouted, gripping the frame with both hands. "No, no, no, no, no..."

Wrenching the frame from the wall with his fists, he felt himself slam it on the stone floor with a great crash. The harsh movement sent him falling backwards. With a groan, he sat up, looking to see if Ginny had escaped the painting.

The painting lay face up, but there was only water- no Ginny Weasley. Harry eyed it closely, praying he hadn't just watched a girl drown.

The water stirred gently, and a familiar head of red hair and dark eyes slowly rose up and out of the painting. Hands gripping the sides of the frame, she pulled herself further out of the water. Harry could see bare arms and shoulders with a white sea-shell top.

"Íde," Harry breathed. "Are you alright?"

Her eyes were red and puffy, and a few stray tears leaked out of them, mixing with the water rolling down her skin.

"You have to help me!" she sobbed. "Please."

Harry immediately was at her side.

"Of course I'll help you. I need to help Ginny too, have you seen her?"

She seemed not to have heard him.

"Please, Harry, I really need your help."

He reached out to touch her shoulder. She looked up at him startled, and he proffered a hand to her. Looking determined, she gripped it tightly. Using all his strength, he pulled Íde out of the painting. Catching her in his arms, she went limp, appearing to lose consciousness. Mindful of her tail, he gently lay her down on the ground.

"Íde, wake up. Please, wake up!"

Harry cradled the mermaid's body to his own, completely at a loss of what to do. He moved the wet hair out of her face, rocking her slightly in his lap.

"Come on, Íde. You're okay."

He placed a hand on her cheek, feeling the cool skin under his palm. At his touch, her eyelids fluttered, and her lips began moving, speaking whispered words he couldn't make out.

"What is it?" Harry leaned down closer, "What is it, Íde?"

His ear was nearly touching her lips.

"It's me. It's me, Harry."

He leaned back, and she opened her eyes. Her hand moved to his face, begging him to understand.

"It's me."

Then he understood.

Heart pounding, Harry snapped up in bed with a gasp.

Catching his breath, he replayed the scenes from his dream, searing them in his mind and memory. He wiped the sweat from his brow before bolting out of bed. Grabbing his shoes, jumper and wand, he made his way quickly to the corridor he had made such a point to avoid.

His feet came to a stop, and he looked up at the girl in the portrait, the girl with long red hair. She smiled at him, and the truth- the truth confirmed by his dream- bore down on him with such certainty he didn't know how he had ever doubted it.

He reached a hand out, touching the portrait gently with his fingers.

"Ginny," he whispered.

Portrait Ginny looked down at him. She studied his face curiously for a minute before one of her little hands reached out to meet his own. She watched their hands make contact in the frame.

"Ginny," he repeated, and her eyes flicked back to his. "I'm going to help you."

A smile spread on her face, and he thought he could see tears glistening in her eyes, but none fell.

"I will," he vowed to her. And for the first time since he and Sirius had sat around the fireplace and heard the fated prophecy, and the words he heard had seeped into his very blood and being, he knew that this was something he had to do. Fate or destiny be damned, he would help her.

"I swear it."

His promised words rushed out of him, and as they were uttered, a tear fell from Portrait Ginny's face, and a silent, happy sob seemed to escape her.

With one last look of promise to her, he turned abruptly on his heel and sprinted down the corridor. There was a buzzing in his ears, and if he met any obstacles in the way to the large front doors of the castle, he paid no notice.

Soon he was sprinting across the grounds, wand lit in front of him, ignoring the stitch in his side. Adrenaline was coursing through him, and he felt his magic tingling in his fingers. The light of his lumos spell pulsated as he ran. He felt such purpose with his plan, such a sense of rightness he hadn't felt in over a year. Inside he was rejoicing, because he wasn't mad, he never had been, and his instincts had been right all along, even if the universe seemed hell-bent on stopping him.

He reached the shore of the lake. The water gently lapped on the shore, surface like glass in a perfect reflection of the pre-dawn sky. He extinguished the light on his wand and began removing his shoes and jumper. He entered the water of the lake, only barely feeling the cold as he did. The water level rose to his neck and he began to tread further out. He looked across the expanse of water.

"Íde!"

He shouted her name across the water, scaring a small flock of birds.

"Íde! I need to talk to you!"

He continued treading the water, his motions wetting the hair on his head.

"Íde, please!"

His sense of urgency continued to fuel him, but after a few minutes, the cold was beginning to take its toll on his muscles, making them shiver and cramp.

"Íde!"

He heard a small disturbance in the water, near a willow tree that was so overgrown its branches dipped into the water. He swam over to it, looking for any sign of red hair or green tail.

"Íde?" He moved branches out of the way. "We talked about this, don't hide from me."

There was no sign of the Mermaid, and he sighed in frustration. As he turned to leave the willow, he felt long, gnarled fingers clasp around his ankle, and give a tug.

Caught by surprise, he was pulled under the water. The cold immediately engulfed him in a vicious shock, and he realized he was still being pulled downward. Kicking out his ankle, he saw a devious looking creature he had only seen in Newt Scamander's book snarling up at him.

Grindelows.

Harry had left his wand on the shore, so he resorted to kicking and scratching the water-creature. The grindelow let go for a moment, but then regained a better hold with both hands. Snarling and hissing at him, it worked its way up his calf, the long fingers digging painfully into his skin.

Harry's lungs were starting to burn, and to his dismay, several other grindelows joined the first, and he struggled to bat them away. As he fought them off, he tried to focus himself, and remember his wandless magic. But every time he focused on a spell, one of the little creatures would distract him with a scratch or a bite.

Stilling himself for a moment, he allowed his magic to flow, feeling a tingle in his palm and a ball of light begin to form in his hand. As the light grew stronger, he prepared to launch it at the grindelows. Before he could make the motion, a flash of white and green flew across his vision. He felt the water swirl violently around him, and he was suddenly released by the attacking creatures.

Feeling severely light-headed, and unable to go on without a breath, he frantically began kicking towards the surface. When he only had a few feet left to go, he felt an arm wrap around him, and was propelled to the surface.

The moment his head broke the surface, his angry lungs gulped in air greedily. He coughed and sputtered, and the black spots that had formed in his vision began to recede. The arm he had felt earlier held him tightly as he breathed in deeply. Somewhat disoriented, he blinked, and knew exactly who was holding him, even before she spoke.

"Are you alright?"

He focused his eyes, and saw the beautiful face of the girl he needed to see. Up close like this, he could see the worry and concern in her dark eyes. Her wet hair was slightly disheveled, and there was a small scratch across her brow. She was holding his arm in such a way that he facing slightly away from her, and he could feel her long Mermaid tail keeping both of them at the surface of the water.

"I'm okay," he murmured quietly. "I'm not hurt."

She seemed to sigh in relief.

"I was worried."

Harry looked into her eyes, unable to look away.

"Thank you."

"Of course," she said, giving a small smile, but it quickly turned to a frown. "What on earth were you doing? You swam right into the Grindelow nest-"

With a jolt, Harry suddenly was seized with the urgency that he had felt earlier- the same urgency that had propelled him down to the lake at this early hour. He interrupted her questions, turning to face her fully. She held one of her arms tightly across her chest as he did so.

"I had to find you I had to talk to you," he said, reaching out to her shoulders to hold her tightly. The skin of his palms made contact with her cool, bare skin. It was an innocent enough touch- or at least, it should have been. But her bare skin sent a searing fire into him that traveled through his hands and up his arms. She gasped softly, and for a moment, he worried he had burned her with accidental magic. But she reached out with her free hand and placed a hand on his chest, sending his heart racing underneath it. It took everything he had to ignore the moment, ignore the bizarre power she seemed to have over him, because he had to tell her now.

"Íde," he started, taking a deep breath, and his behavior was causing her to look concerned. Her finger dug into him.

"Íde," he repeated, "That is not your name. Your name, your real name, is Ginny Weasley."

Her mouth fell open just slightly, and her eyes widened.

"And," Harry continued, "You are not a Mermaid."

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TBC