For disclaimers, warnings and pairing notifications see chapter 1.
A/N: Well due to requests from reviewers I've continued this piece. I know the continuation is a little short compared to the original, but fear not, a third chapter is in the works which should be a little longer, so think of this as an interlude. As always critical commentary is appreciated, flames that contain no advice on how to improve will be dumped unceremoniously on my refuse pile. I don't mind if you thought it was crap, in fact please tell me if you do! But also tell me why you thought it was crap, otherwise I can't very well improve it can I? Anyway, on with the show...
"GINNY!!! NOOOO!!!"
The shriek, for no other word could adequately describe Harry's utterance, emerged at a pitch that young men do not normally reach unless injured in a particularly private part of their anatomy, and the volume was sufficient to give Ginny an instant headache as she was forcefully woken up. All thoughts of remonstration flew out of her head, along with most of the headache, however, when she turned over and noted that Harry's eyes were still squeezed shut and his brow was so tightly furrowed that she wondered if he might develop permanent ridges across his forehead from it. Shocked, she watched as Harry lay there stock still, except for his head which moved from side to side as if he were being struck across each cheek alternately. Perhaps that was the creepiest thing, that he was obviously very distressed, but other than his head he was perfectly still. Occasionally tremors would run through his body from the violence of his head movement, but nothing else. Hesitantly, unsure of what exactly to do, Ginny slid an arm underneath Harry's shoulders and circled the other over his chest to enfold him in a gentle hug, holding him tightly enough to let him know she was there, but not squeezing at all. It seemed to help as Harry lapsed from ear-splitting screams down to incoherent mutters. His movements, however, did not lessen, and Ginny was truly scared about what Harry could be imagining that would put him in this state. And it was all for her, all because of her. Suddenly she understood how one could feel guilty for another's pain in the way that Harry did. Intellectually she knew that she was not at fault for Harry's nightmares, that if he did not dream of her then there were plenty of other things to haunt his sleep, but she could not help the small pang she felt that it was nightmares about her that caused him pain. She continued to cuddle Harry until suddenly his eyes flicked open and he attempted to sit up in bed, panting as though he were a drowning man just returned to dry land.
"Shhh," she soothed in his ear, much as she had done earlier that evening, "Shhh, Harry, it's alright, I'm here. Nothing's happening. You're safe."
He turned towards the sound of her voice, and for a moment his wild eyes searched her face, then suddenly tears were welling up in those captivating green depths and spilling down his cheeks. He buried his face against the side of her neck and his arm came up and over to clutch her tightly in a plain attempt to reassure himself of her solid reality. She did not resist at all, merely ran her hands through his hair and held him close, murmuring comfortingly in his ear as she waited for him to gain the release he so obviously needed. How many nights, she wondered, had he woken up like this in a solitary room, with no source of comfort to be had?
It was several minutes before Harry got over his nightmare, but eventually he calmed down and attempted to move away slightly with muttered apologies for disturbing her sleep. She was not having any of it though, and pulled him closer to her, until they were eye-to-eye.
"Talk to me about it, Harry," she pleaded, "Don't shut me out, you don't have to bear anything on your own anymore. I want to be here for you, just like you were there for me down in that chamber."
Harry was instantly caught between two of his most basic desires. On the one hand, his desire for acceptance urged him to tell Ginny everything, to let her see all of himself, on the off chance that he was really someone she could love in the forever kind of way that he loved her. On the other hand his protective instincts urged him to keep quiet, to spare her from the pains of his nightmares.
"I just…don't know where to start," he hedged after a long pause, "There's so much, from the war, and Voldemort, and…everything, really. You know?"
"Just take it slow, Harry," she coaxed, not wanting to scare him into clamming up, this was, after all, more than he had ever spoken about the burdens he carried, and she was sure that they were many and very heavy, "We have all the time in the world."
Ginny could almost see the cogs turning in Harry's head as he tried to come up with something coherent to say. Not really accustomed to being patient when it came to ferreting things out of people, it was very hard for her to not try to encourage Harry any further. She was positively bursting to have this out with him, to get him to look past what had happened and see that she was here now, and safe, but she recognised that now was not the time to press in any way, that it had to be Harry who opened up to her, not she who weaselled her way in.
"It's just…sometimes it hits me," he paused and swallowed nervously his gaze turning away from her, "All these things that happen, everything Voldemort did, it was all aimed at me. Every time he lashed out, he was trying to get to me. Dumbledore died because without him I would have no one to guide me in what to do. Professor Moody spent nine months in his own trunk so that Voldemort could get his man on the inside to get to me. All those people who died at Hogwarts last month, Voldemort was trying to get to me and they were in the way."
His eyes met hers once again, and she could see the glimmer of tears there as he looked at her. Surely, she thought quite irrelevantly, he would run out of them soon with all the crying he had been doing tonight.
"And you…he took you to the Chamber to get me to go in after him, he knew me better than I knew myself, knew that I would go anywhere, do anything to make sure you were safe even before I knew it. And all of last year, Carrow was hurting you because of me, because you were the girlfriend of Harry Potter. It…it's like I'm this walking plague for the people I care about, they all get hurt because of me, die because of me. You should go before it happens to you, again, because who knows what might happen to you this time, you could die, and I don't want that, but I don't want you to go either, I missed you so much Ginny, but if you stay…"
He was babbling now, and it was really quite heartbreaking to realise that this was his honest opinion of himself, that it was better for everyone else if he remained isolated and alone, that he really thought that they would be better off without him around. How could he think that? Didn't he realise how happy he made them all, how much his presence and actions had brightened their lives? She had the sudden feeling that their conversation had just expanded hugely, and was no longer just about her, or how she had spent the last year, but rather something much larger, much more fundamental to Harry's character. She said nothing as Harry continued to vocally waver back and forth between encouraging her to run away at once and pleading with her to stay with him, although the stinging sensation in her eyes told her that Harry was not the only one now on the verge of tears once again. Finally, however, after several more minutes of him going around in very circular arguments, she had had enough. Battling the strong urge to simply bawl him out about his ridiculous notions, Ginny silenced him with a finger to his lips. When she spoke, she was very proud of how calm and even her tone was, the urge to shout at him was very strong.
"Listen to me now, Harry, I want you to promise me that you won't interrupt," at his very slight nod of acquiescence, she forged on in the same even tone, with what she hoped he would take as a bit of compassion, "What happened to me was not your fault. I don't know how else to say it, so I'm going to keep saying it until you realise it, you weren't at fault at all for any of it. There was nothing you could have done to stop me from opening the Chamber, I was just a little girl, not even in your year. And that whole thing was started up by Malfoy, remember? To get at my father, by having me made out to be a killer. You weren't even in the picture in Malfoy's plan, so there isn't any portion of blame for you over the Chamber, none at all."
"I'd forgotten about that," Harry admitted quietly, "But you didn't hear Tom after he had come out of the diary. He admitted to luring you into the Chamber to get me to come down after you."
"Harry, do you honestly think that Tom Riddle's memory would have let me live after the end of 'my' killing rampage across the school. A trial and Veritaserum would have brought out the truth about the diary. Tom Riddle was going to try and kill me the moment I first put pen to paper in that diary, not because of you, but because of me. And as for Carrow, how could he possibly have known about us. He came to the school after we broke up. For all he knew, it might have been a summer fling, which isn't uncommon among teenage boys you know. I was just a random person he pulled from the class to serve as his object lesson for the Dark Arts. In fact he probably picked me for my name, which I was born with, absolutely nothing to do with you."
Harry said nothing, as Ginny continued to enumerate the ways in which things were not his fault. She could not know the whirlwind of thoughts she had set off in Harry's head. Details he had forgotten about both incidents were now coming back to him. He had been so wrapped up in his guilt that he had ignored or sidelined them. He was starting to see that she was right, that he had been ignoring logic in his guilt. Logic is what made you send her to the torture-chamber in the first place, why are you using it now? But this was not that kind of logic, it was not Harry-logic, driven by the pathological need to protect the people around him. This was just logic, cold facts in the light of day…or night, he guessed, since it was night. But that was not the point, the point was that Ginny was irrefutable, her arguments impeccable, and her entreaties undeniable. It was a light-bulb moment for Harry.
"Ginny I…" words failed him, they just seemed so useless to express what he was feeling at the moment, the knowledge that she wanted him, that he could have her, the freedom from the crushing guilt, all thanks to her, and he had absolutely no idea how to verbalise all of that, never mind expressing his thanks to her for doing him such a great service. He resolved then and there that he was going to make himself worthy of it, worthy of her and her love and what she had done for him. He was not yet, and he did not know how he could become so, but he would find a way, whatever it took. He exhaled slowly, the vow sealed.
"Yes Harry?" she was looking at him expectantly. How could he disappoint her?
"I love you, Gin. You're so good to me. How did I get so lucky, to find someone who keeps my head screwed on straight?"
"Just so long as you don't forget it, Mr Potter," she murmured, a mischievous smile playing around her lips.
"I'm serious, Gin, you don't know…I can't explain…this is such a great thing. I owe you so much this time. Ask me for anything, anything at all, for this I want to make you as happy as you can be."
Her smile grew wider, and he thought he saw a glimmer in her eye.
"Love me?" her voice was a whisper so soft he almost missed it.
"Always," he replied in an equally quiet voice.
A/N2: Awww don't you just love fluffy endings? Please review and tell me what you think!
Edit 29/1/08: Argh! I know I'm neglecting this story badly, but dialogue is giving me huge problems! Why do characters have to talk? Why can't they just mime, or communicate in ways other than speech?!