Disclaimer: This story includes characters and situations that are part of the Harry Potter universe, which is copyright J.K.Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury, etc. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made in the production of this FANFICTION. Not many outside resources were needed this time, but I (as always) made extensive use of the Harry Potter Lexicon, www.hp-lexicon.org, when writing this chapter.
Author's Note: So much for regular updates, but somehow I don't much care, so long as I continue this story. Thanks to Fantome, Lady Riddle, and Chucky1982, whose friendly reviews touched my heart and spurred me on.
Expectations of Grandeur: Chapter 5: Guilt and Forgiveness
Harry took one slow, anxious, terrified step into the deep shadows of the hallway. Nothing attacked him. He took another timid footfall forward, still no violence. He gulped down a breath, jutted his chin forward, and strode confidently down the corridor he, Ron, and Hermione had seen Ginny race down a few minutes before; so far, safety. He breathed again. He had seen the house from the street; it wasn't all that big – he would find Ginny in no time.
He was on the fifth story when he realised that magical houses, especially in the city, are probably almost always magically expanded. His mind flew back to the magically enlarged tents he and the Weasleys had used in the summer before his fourth year when they saw the Quidditch World Cup – full-sized apartments with cloth walls. He shook his head ruefully. Already he had had to fight off a swarm of Doxies when he walked too near a set of curtains, and he was afraid that the bump on his left hand would turn out to be a bite. He wondered how strong Doxy venom was. Hopefully Ginny would have antidote. "Ginny?!" he shouted, hoping that she would hear and give him some hint as to where she was.
There was no responding sound, but a door down the hallway was open and light flickered from it. He approached, wand drawn. Who knew what it could be; in this house Doxies infesting the curtains were the least of their troubles. "Hello?" he called, into the room. Someone was talking, but he couldn't make out any of the words. Speech was probably a bad sign, Harry decided, for while it could be Ginny it could also be a hundred other, more dangerous things – and Ginny would have answered by now, right? Harry stepped closer, two steps from the room. "Hello? Ginny, is that you?"
The voice went silent. There was a sound of movement in the room, and Harry stepped back. Whatever was moving didn't sound human, the footfalls were too heavy and they made a scratching sound on the wooden floor that couldn't be any kind of shoe. Harry clutched his wand instinctively; preparing to hex whatever it was preparing to come out of the room. It appeared at the doorway. Harry froze.
Whatever it was regarded him with familiar, burning, reddish eyes. "Who is it?" Harry asked, fearing the worst and taking a step forward. But those weren't the red eyes he saw in his nightmares, those were more orange, more birdlike, and without the malice. In the dim, he made out a shape – that of an eagle's torso with a horse's tail. Suddenly he remembered where he had seen the eyes before. It was Buckbeak. Shaking with relief, he bowed deeply to the Hippogriff, who promptly bowed in return. Ginny appeared behind him. "Oh, it's only you, Harry. You can come in." Buckbeak moved aside and Harry stepped into the bright room.
Being inside, however, Harry suddenly didn't know what to tell Ginny. "They're looking for you downstairs," he began, voice trembling, caught between his sudden relief at finding Ginny and his apprehension about telling her what was going on.
She didn't turn to look at him, but stepped toward the fire instead, staring into its flames. "Are you here to lecture me?" she snapped, grabbing a poker and jabbing at the logs vindictively. "Tell me to do what my parents say even when it's ridiculous?"
Harry sat down near the fire. "No. I'm here to explain why your parents would be saying what they are, even if it seems ridiculous now."
There was a short pause, but before Harry could work up the nerve to tell Ginny what he had heard from Dumbledore, Ginny turned to stare at him. "It is ridiculous to want me to stop my Hogwarts education at this point – just before OWLs? I don't care what reasoning they said they had."
Harry sighed. "I didn't hear it from your mother, she didn't say anything about the subject other than the fact that she would let you steam up here rather than face you. I heard it from Dumbledore himself. Tom's back." He wasn't sure how else to say it, except repeating it. "Tom Riddle is back."
Ginny's angry glare turned to a blank gaze of astonishment. "Tom?" she whispered. "You're joking." She quickly turned back to the fire, looking almost embarrassed. "You must be joking."
Harry shook his head, feeling sorry for the girl. "I wish I was. But Dumbledore promised me it was true – Tom Riddle is back at Hogwarts, in my year. He must have told your mother when he talked to her before breakfast. That's why she wants you to stay home – to protect you." Of course, Mrs. Weasley had at first said that her reasoning was to protect her young daughter from the forces that were in the world, but everyone had passed that off as merely Mrs. Weasley being overly cautious in regards to the Dark Lord everyone knew about, not his teenaged version attending Hogwarts school.
Ginny turned her gaze back at the fire. "They can't keep me home… It's my own fault…" she muttered. "I should have to suffer for it, if anyone. I should have to handle it." The comments weren't directed to Harry, but he heard them anyway.
Mind jumping to the incident with the diary in his second year, he quickly inserted, "I think this is somehow different." However, not having anything to back that up with, he continued on to something else. "And besides, even if it was your fault, it doesn't mean you should put yourself in extra danger for it."
She turned once again to stare at him. "You're one to be talking, Mr. Potter." Her mouth was twitching at the side; she was trying not to laugh. "Or perhaps you've heard that so many times it's been ingrained on your brain. Though I've never seen you actually follow that rule."
"I never asked for it…" Harry began, and then finished with, "I never made myself more of a target. Going to Hogwarts would be just that – flaunting the enemy in the face."
Ginny shrugged, the laughter now gone from her face. "Maybe you're right… Maybe it would be better if I just stayed home, out of harm's way." She stared into the fire and sighed.
Harry, seeing the look of extreme disappointment and guilt on her face, suddenly felt the incredible urge to convince her otherwise. Ginny Weasley belonged at Hogwarts, and with the Order coming back to the school she would be as safe there as anywhere, even if Tom Riddle took classes. "But Dumbledore told me that this Tom is a different version – not the same teenaged Dark Lord. Maybe we're just overreacting to the name." Ginny nodded numbly, almost not hearing. "You'd learn so much more at Hogwarts, it would be better for you. I can't imagine staying in this house for the entire year," he added.
Ginny nodded again, numbly, but whispered, "But I can't go if Tom's there… It's too dangerous…"
Harry shook his head. "It's just as dangerous for me, if he really is You-Know-Who in disguise," he said, "And I'm going back. Besides, like you said, I've searched out danger – or danger has searched me out – every year I've been at Hogwarts, and I haven't died yet. You'll be fine."
Ginny smiled a little. "I guess you're right…" she said softly. "And what about Moody with his comment about being closer to the school than before?"
Harry almost hit himself for not telling Ginny about that sooner. "They're converting the Chamber of Secrets," he responded. "That's how Dumbledore found Tom – he was hiding in the Chamber, asleep or something. He wants to use the Chamber as a new order headquarters. So your parents will be in the school too, if all goes as planned."
Ginny let herself really smile again. "Mum's worried even though the Order will be there to protect me?" she laughed. "If that's all, she'll get over it." There was a pause in the conversation, and Ginny turned back to the fire. Finally, she frowned and commented, "Why didn't anyone tell me about this?"
"No one thought to, probably. We only heard this morning," Harry commented. "And I just told Ron and Hermione, I don't think any of the adults know we know about it at all – except Dumbledore, that is."
"They treat us like such babies here," Ginny grumbled. "Mum and Dad still haven't realised that I'm not a little child anymore. They don't tell us anything, even though it's always you who saves the world, and whenever anyone has helped you, it hasn't been an adult. Everyone knows you have to defeat You-Know-Who, but I don't think they talk to you either."
Harry nodded, staring into the fire. "Not much. But I find out what I need, mostly. I was angry with Dumbledore all last year that he wouldn't tell me anything, but I realised that it wasn't too useful to be angry. It doesn't get you anywhere, and it's better to be on Dumbledore's side than somewhere against him, especially if being angry with Dumbledore means you have to fight someone like Voldemort alone."
Ginny nodded slowly. "I… I just… I just wish they didn't treat me like such a little girl. I'm not the same person I was in my first year," she insisted. Harry sighed. He hoped he hadn't been like this last year. He supposed he probably had. He had probably been worse, come to think of it.
"They're looking out for your best interests," he said, but Ginny just frowned harder at that. He paused, uncertain, and she didn't say anything, just glowered at the fire.
"Who are they to dictate what my best interests are?" she whispered.
Finally Harry snapped. He really hoped he wasn't like this last year. "They're your parents, and they're talented witches and wizards who care about you." Finding this too diplomatic, he added, "Maybe you're not the same person you were in first year," he commented, "But you're certainly acting like you could be." Ginny turned her glared to him, but shock seemed to be breaking through her shell a little. "If you want them to treat you like an adult, then grow up."
At that, Ginny was shocked silent for a few moments, but then slowly nodded, her face relaxing. After a minute or two of watching the fire die down, she spoke up. "What's it like," she asked, "Not being a prefect?"
Harry almost laughed. "As opposed to all the other times you haven't been a prefect? It's pretty much the same old thing. You weren't chosen?" Harry hadn't known the Hogwarts letters had come – he thought he would have gotten one had they arrived already.
Ginny shook her head. "We don't know yet, do we? I mean the letters haven't come. But I doubt it. I keep telling mum that Amelia's going to be prefect – she's in my year, almost as frighteningly studious as Hermione is – but mum's confident it will be me, and probably just because she's my mother. I can't stand the thought of her face when she finds out it isn't me. It almost makes me wish I'd worked harder, beaten out Amelia." Ginny sighed. "I suppose I've failed, ashamed her."
Harry shook his head. "You don't know yet, and like they told me last year, you can still be Head Girl." This Harry did remember – the blow of not being named a prefect was a severe one, he had wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, presumably become a prefect and then Head Boy, since all he knew about his father's footsteps was that he had been Head Boy. Fortunately for him, James Potter hadn't been named a prefect either, albeit for different reasons, Harry supposed. "And besides, if you think you have to be prefect in order to merit your mother's love, you're wrong. She might be a bit disappointed and very loud, but I'm sure she won't be ashamed of you."
Ginny nodded slowly. "I suppose so," she began, and then paused. "I'm just afraid that they'll go back to treating me like a porcelain doll – I was afraid Dumbledore had told her I wasn't to be a prefect, and she was babying me for that. You don't understand that – no one's ever babied you."
Harry stood up, angry again. It was all right to feel badly, but this exaggeration was out of hand. "That's a blatant lie," he exclaimed. "They didn't tell me anything last year, dubiously for my own protection, and I almost died because of it." Sirius did die because of it, he thought, but he didn't say that. "Dumbledore told me it was because he loved me too much."
Ginny laughed ruefully, but the comments didn't knock the look on her face – the look that said she knew more about suffering than he did. "Funny how that works, I guess. He loved you too much to do the right thing by you." She looked toward Buckbeak, though, and was suddenly silent. "Do you blame yourself," she asked.
There was an awkward silence between them, and Harry sat back down. "I guess so. I try not to," he responded. He fell silent and she had nothing more to say. His hand was throbbing badly, and he looked down at the now swollen bump.
Ginny must have seen it too, because she jumped up. "Is that a Doxy bite?" Harry nodded. "Harry, why didn't you say anything? Those can get vicious if you don't get antidote!" She picked up a bottle and a spoon from the mantelpiece and read the back before handing it to Harry. "It says just one spoonful, but since you've left the bite untreated so long, I'd take two."
Harry poured out two spoonfuls and swallowed both of them. The antidote tasted wretched, but the swelling on his hand stopped and the colour returned to normal. He could still see the bite, slowly receding into his skin.
"Thanks," he responded. Ginny sat back down.
"Those can be nasty, keep you in bed for a week, if they aren't treated. I've even heard of children dying from them," she commented. As the flurry of movement, getting Harry the antidote, ended, Harry couldn't help but find his thoughts wandering back to Sirius. He wasn't allowing himself to think about that, he reminded himself, but it did no good.
"It feels strange," Ginny commented, "Using his home like this. But I suppose it's the safest place, and until Dumbledore prepares the Chamber, it's the only option." Harry nodded and grunted in recognition, sinking further into his hole – this house was miserable without its owner.
Ginny must have seen his anguish, because she stood again. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to…" but she couldn't even finish her sentence before Harry jumped in.
"Don't worry about me. I'll deal with it or I won't, but it's no one else's problem," he answered, harsher than he meant to be. Ginny looked shocked, as though she wanted to say something, but decided against it.
"Well," she responded, uncomfortable and put-out, "I suppose I should go downstairs and apologise for scaring people like this – they probably don't know where I was. I'll tell them you're safe. Stay away from the curtains on your way down, the Doxies won't bite if you're careful." With that, and a nod to Buckbeak, she was gone. Harry sighed. He hadn't wanted to scare her away – not really.
He looked over at the Hippogriff and smiled weakly. "Do you miss him too, Buck?" he asked. Buckbeak stared at him with knowing eyes, but could say nothing. "I know I do." There were scars on the Hippogriff's legs, probably from whatever Kreacher had done to him. "But it isn't your fault…" Harry mumbled.
The Hippogriff took a step forward and Harry looked again into its eyes. There was no fault involved, the eyes seemed to say, what is simply is. "I wanted to save him," Harry answered, defensive to himself only now. "That's all I wanted – to save him." Buckbeak bent down in a solemn bow to Harry and Harry, shocked, stood and returned the gesture. "I guess everyone knows that," he whispered, but he couldn't stop the tear from rolling down his cheek. "I'm the only one who doesn't."
He sat down again, moving next to Buckbeak because the room was growing colder – perhaps a storm was brewing? He said nothing for a while, listening as the rain began on the roof and trickled down the gutters. Finally, he spoke. "I suppose Kreacher left, I haven't seen him. Probably defected to the Malfoys or some rotten pureblood family." Here Buckbeak snorted with much the same emotion that Harry felt. "That means this house isn't safe anymore, not for much longer anyway, for any of us. I suppose that's why they're moving into the Chamber – they need a new location." Talking to Buckbeak was relaxing, for although he could tell the beast was sentient and intelligent, no one would talk back. "Besides, this house is unliveable without him here, the darkness just took over the place. I imagine the very floorboards are revolting at the idea of being inhabited by Order members, not a single one of them a Black." Buckbeak shifted his weight to the side, agitated. "I'm sure you can come with, live at Hogwarts again." Suddenly Harry saw the fault in his logic. "Well, I wish you could. Hagrid would be glad to see you, at least." Harry attempted a weak smile. "You'll see… soon enough everything will be over, and Voldemort will be gone." Or I'll be gone, passed through Harry's head, and because no one except Buckbeak was around, he said it. "Either that or I'll be gone. But in either case it stops bothering me, right?"
There was a threatening rumble in Buckbeak's throat that conveyed all too clearly what Buck's opinion about Harry joking about the Dark Lord was. "Okay. Sorry. It's just… how else are we going to keep cheerful? If I can't joke about it, it just looms over me." Buck stiffened and gave a proud sniff. "Stiff upper lip, you say. Well, that's easier said than done, is all," Harry finished. "But I guess all I can do is try."
Buck stood, and looked to the doorway. Harry realised he was being dismissed and approached it himself, bowing deeply to Buckbeak and intoning, "Thank you." The Hippogriff bowed back, and Harry turned to leave, carrying the Doxy antidote with him, and tiptoeing down the hallway to avoid the pests.