Potter47
Part One
Living Inside
"The old clock is a thief
with dirty second hands."
Jonathan Foreman
Chapter Four
Faces and Hands
"We're off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Hog...!" sang Not-Myrtle, giggling. Ginny followed her along the corridors of Not-Hogwarts, wondering where on earth she was headed and who on earth this Wizard of Hog was supposed to be...
"I told you, he is your wisdom," said Not-Myrtle. "I don't see why you still can't grasp this concept."
"I'm sorry, it's still a bit strange," said Ginny, not sorry at all.
"What is the use lying to me, Ginevra? I'm a part of you, you know that I can tell."
Ginny didn't say anything else, but just kept on walking. One foot before the other on the shiny yellow brick of Not-Hogwarts' floor. How far was this Wizard, anyway...? Was he even in the school...?
"Yes, of course he is," said Not-Myrtle. "We can't very well leave the school, can we?"
"Why not?"
Not-Myrtle shook her head. "You'll understand eventually."
Ginny shook her head, but kept walking.
The day passed slowly at the Burrow–excruciatingly so–but pass it did, and without incident. When Harry began to stir on Ginny's bed, Hermione dragged Ron out of the room–"We've got to let them tell us when they'reready," she insisted–and they entered again so that he never knew that they had seen him. The rest of the day went very much like that–gone before anyone could see where it went, even if it felt like it had taken ages and ages.
When it was gone, Harry lay in his own bed–or Percy's old bed, rather–and thought about Ginny. He hadn't thought about very much else all day, so this wasn't surprising. What was surprising was when those ever-present thoughts of Ginny disappeared, quick as a flash, before Harry knew what had happened.
–they were replaced with a long, dark corridor, with a black door at the end.
Harry walked towards the door, closer, closer, and as he reached it, it flung open. He was in a room full of doors, now, and then into a shimmering room he recognized immediately as that of the Bell Jar. A flash of Ginny re-entered his mind, but only a flash, as he was still moving–and as he opened the door at the other end of the shimmering room, he found himself, once again, in the hall of–
–the Dursleys'?
Harry blinked, or thought he did, but then saw that this was no time for blinking, thank-you-very-much.
From where he stood in the hallway of Number Four, Privet Drive, he could see that all three of the Dursleys were in the living room. Dudley's eyes were glazed over as though he were watching his favorite television program while eating a slice of his favorite pie--Vernon's face was contorted as though he was yelling at Harry and enjoying it very much--and Petunia was about to have her soul sucked out by a Dementor.
Standing beside the Dursleys was Lord Voldemort, and for the first time since he left Percy's room at the Burrow, Harry was conscious of the fact that he could hear, for now he heard the Dark Lord's high, piercing laugh as he Crucio'd Harry's uncle and led a Dementor towards Harry's aunt. Dudley-- lacking pie and a TV, it seemed--was already gone.
...and Harry's eyes snapped open. He was back in Percy's room, upright in bed.
He jumped up to his feet, and grabbed his wand.
Ginny's gaze was set quite firmly on the yellow bricks beneath her feet when suddenly, she walked straight into the ghost in front of her–she stepped back out, shivering all over, and wondered why Not-Myrtle had stopped so suddenly.
"What are you doing here?" said Not-Myrtle, then, and Ginny realized that they were not alone.
"I live here," said the spitting image of Neville Longbottom, quiet as a cowardly lion.
"Oh," said Not-Myrtle. "I've never seen you. Which part do you play?"
Not-Neville turned to Ginny. "I'm your courage," he said, not sounding particularly surprised that Not-Myrtle had never seen him.
"You?" said Not-Myrtle. "You don't seem very courageous."
"I didn't choose the parts," said Not-Neville. "Personally I don't think I make a very good courage at all, but there you have it."
Ginny smiled slightly. "You make a great courage."
"But not your courage," said Not-Neville. "I'm a part of you, Ginevra, so I've seen what you've done. I don't suit you at all."
"Whatever," said Not-Myrtle. "We're off to see the Wizard of Hog, we'd best be going."
"You are?" said Not-Neville. "Would you... would you mind if perhaps I just come along with you? I've wanted to speak with him for the longest time, but I haven't been able to muster up the cour... nerve."
"Of course you can come along," said Ginny, very pleased to have found someone other than Not-Myrtle, who made her feel very odd inside. This Not-Neville made her feel much more comfortable, somehow.
"Fine, then," said Not-Myrtle. "But we really must get going."
Harry stood pacing in Percy's bedroom. What was going on? The Dursleys, the Dementor, and the Dark Lord kept popping up in his mind, masquerading in front of the bed and the nightstand and the window... he didn't know what to do. Something in his gut told him to go right now, to rescue the Dursleys before it was too late and Voldemort had sucked what little souls they had out of them. Another part was worried this was just a trick. Sirius had turned out to be all right before, hadn't he...?
Something felt different now, though. Something in that same gut told him that this had something to do with Ginny and what had happened to her. And with that thought lodged firmly in his mind, he had to do something.
Without really thinking about what he was doing, he found himself in Ron's room, shaking his friend awake.
"Ron, Ron," he said, "wake up."
"Wha? Go sleep, Harry, go way--"
"Wake up...!" Harry said again, jostling him more fervently. Ron's eyes opened this time.
"What?" he said.
"Come on. The Dursleys are in trouble."
"So what?"
"Come on, Ron. I'm gonna go get Hermione. You're gonna be awake when I get back, OK?"
"Fine."
Another corridor, and then another, and then another.
"Are we almost there?" said Ginny.
"No," said Not-Myrtle. "Stop asking, Ginevra. We'll be there soon enough."
"Pfft," said Ginny. Her feet were getting tired, as were her legs. She couldn't remember this many corridors in Hogwarts, she honestly couldn't, and she was about to ask Not-Myrtle if this was all just a wild goose chase when suddenly, a wild goose flew frantically past, flapping its wings as though this was its last day in the air.
Ginny blinked.
Then, behind the goose came something vaguely familiar that Ginny didn't think she had ever seen before, and atop that something sat Luna Lovegood.
"Whoa there, Snorky," said Luna as she spotted Ginny and the others, and the thing she was riding--which Ginny supposed was supposed to be a Crumple-Horned Snorkack--skidded to a halt on the yellow-brick floor.
Luna hopped down off the horse and–before Ginny knew what was happening–hugged Ginny tightly around the middle.
"What on earth are you doing here?" asked Luna.
Ginny smirked. "Let me guess. You're my... imagination?"
Luna quirked a pale eyebrow. "Wha–?"
"Was that a wild goose?" asked Ginny, chuckling. "Heh. That's good, I was just thinking... and then there it went."
"I had been trying to catch that goose all day," said Luna, sounding a little perplexed. "It was my one lead toward finding King Ronald..." A beat, and then: "You haven't seen him, have you?"
"Not yet," said Ginny, smirking slightly. "Wait, so... is Ron my inner monarch or something?"
Luna turned to Not-Neville. "What on earth is she talking about?"
Not-Neville seemed more than a little terrified of Luna, and as such, said nothing.
"Anyway," said Not-Myrtle, "we really must be going. Off to see the Wizard and all that, you know."
Luna's mouth fell open.
"You're going to see the Wizard?"
Ginny nodded.
"I'm not sure you should do that," said Luna.
"Why not?"
"Well, he--he's dangerous."
"He is?"
Luna nodded. "You all are just going to traipse up to him and knock on his door?"
"Well--yes. He's the only one that can get me out of here. He's my wisdom, apparently," said Ginny.
Luna's Snorkack made a start, and the goose flashed by a connecting corridor down the hall.
"Well... don't say I didn't warn you," said Luna. "Be safe, and good luck. And if you see King Ronald, you'll let me know?"
"Of course," said Ginny, and then Luna was off, after the goose on her Snorkack once again.
"Well, that was peculiar," said Ginny.
Mrs. Weasley awoke with a start.
She blinked a few times, looked at her peacefully snoring husband, and then at the clock on her bedside table. It was the middle of the night still, and yet she was now so suddenly and completely awake she didn't think she'd ever fall back to sleep.
And so she stood, put on her dressing gown, and walked quietly to the stairs. At Ginny's door, she poked her head in to see her daughter still lying just as she had been all day--completely still, yet breathing softly.
Oh, what would she give for Ginny to wake up in the morning like it was any other day? To come down to breakfast and sit at the table, like normal. This day might have never happened, after all--perhaps she would wake up in the morning after all.
"Please," whispered Mrs. Weasley aloud.
She quickly stole into the room and kissed Ginny on the forehead. Then she left once again, further down the stairs and into the kitchen. She did her best middle-of-the-night thinking in the kitchen, after all. She didn't know what she wanted to think about, but really--what else was she going to do?
She quickly (and magically, to avoid the whistle of the kettle) fixed herself a cup of tea, and sat at the table, mulling things over. She wanted to keep her mind occupied, for she had a feeling she'd just awoken from a nightmare. She couldn't quite recall it, exactly, but she was afraid if she thought too much on it, it might come back to her.
Too many nightmares, she thought to herself. And it had been: just one after another, year after year. She missed the peace and noise--far too much disturbed quiet around the Burrow of late.
That quiet was broken into quite suddenly with a quick, sharp tock, and Mrs Weasley looked up at the clock reflexively. Surely, she thought, someone had just woken up, and their hand had turned from asleep to awake... That's what it always was, after all.
...but not this time.
She blinked several times as she looked at it, for she must have been seeing it wrong. She was far too tired, her eyes weren't working, yes? Or perhaps she was asleep altogether, and this was just yet another nightmare.
Or, perhaps, the hand marked "Harry" had really just joined Ginny's at mortal peril...
Wake-Up
"With the falling sky and the rain, we're awakening."
Jonathan Foreman
Coming Soon
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