The Black Lake Chapter 13, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: Please note that due to the AU nature of this fic, there may be differences from canon regarding wand lore, curses, and other plot points.

Chapter 13

Harry sat in the grotto, legs dangling into the cold water of the lake. Ginny lay with her tail in the water, resting across his lap- head on his thigh and arms tucked underneath her. She stared at the far wall of the grotto, lost in thought while Harry looked down at her, running his hand through her silky hair. He watched the red tresses glide through his fingers, endlessly fascinated by the soothing motion. Brushing her hair away from her shoulder, he leaned down and touched his lips to the bare skin he had revealed. "You're worried."

Her shoulders stiffened slightly under his touch, but she didn't move. She let out a heavy sigh. "It would feel wrong to not be." Her words were soft. Sad. "I can't help it."

Harry placed another kiss on her shoulder. "Was it Djet again?"

He felt her swallow heavily. "He likes to remind me of what I've done. Of what I've abandoned them to. I can't blame him, really. He thinks I've killed them all."

Brushing his lips across her ear, he whispered softly. "I won't let that happen." A kiss to her hair. "And neither will you. And Djet can stuff it, you've done nothing wrong. We won't stop until we've figured this out. I won't stop until the curse is broken. I swore to you I wouldn't. I made a vow."

Abruptly she sat up, shaking her head. "That's just it though, isn't it?" Her pretty face was full of agony, making him wince inwardly. "How long will it take, Harry? Months? Years? We're no closer to stopping this than the day we met. And as more and more time passes, I can only wonder, how long will you allow this to go on?"

Harry's stomach dropped.

What?

"It's just," she started again, wringing her hands, "I keep waiting for you to wake up and realize that I- I mean, all of this, is just more trouble than it's worth. I keep asking myself why? Why would I let you continue this way, with someone like me?" Her gaze dropped. Momentarily stunned, Harry said nothing as he watched her struggle to continue. "Harry, these weeks with you have been..." She trailed off, closing her eyes and biting her lip. "I may never be what you want. I could be stuck like this forever- stuck in this- this half-life I have, and you would be stuck with me. You can't want that for yourself, can you? You need someone who you can be with- I mean truly be with. Someone you can have a life with. I can't give you that yet. I don't know if I ever can." She met his eyes again, and the look he saw caused a surge of panic in him. He knew the words about to come would be words he was unwilling- unable- to hear, and she started to speak them anyway.

"I just don't know if this can work with us, Harry. I'm cursed. I'm-I'm broken-"

"Stop."

Suddenly Harry was in the water with her. She was startled at his sudden action, but he grabbed her and enveloped her into his arms, holding her fiercely. The anguish in her was all too familiar, and he knew she was spiraling out of control into her dark and morbid thoughts. He had seen the same thing in Sirius when he'd had too much to drink and started dwelling on the past. He had seen it in himself many, many times. There was no way he was going to let her fall into her own darkness for one more second.

"Stop." He said, softer this time. "Just stop."

For a moment, she was frozen in his arms, but he willed her to relax. Finally, she relented, her small arms gripping him tightly. He felt her breathing slow, felt the anxiety in her release.

"It will be alright," he breathed into her hair, "Let go of the dark thoughts that Djet put in your head. You can't dwell on them, they'll drown you if you let them." He pulled back, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. God, he loved her hair. "I'm not going anywhere, so don't even try for one second to tell me I'm better off without you. We both know it's not true."

"But-"

He stopped her with a finger on her lips. "I have never felt more alive than I have since the day I saw you. You think you're no good for me? Without you, I'd be lost. Every day I wake up, I can't wait to see your face, to hear your voice. That means something, doesn't it? I've gone absolutely mad for you, Ginny. It's probably an unhealthy obsession at this point. Don't you know how pathetically heartbroken I'd be if you told me to bugger off?" She gave him a smile at this that made him smile back because her face was like warm sunshine. He kissed the tip of her nose. "See? That right there, that's what I live for, now."

She giggled just then, her cheeks flushing. All the dark thoughts seemed to have fled her.

"Now, Miss Weasley," He continued, "will you forget this nonsense and continue this adventure with me? Even if it's weeks or months or years, will you still spend them with me? Figuring this out together?"

She was biting her lip again, but this time, she was fighting a wide smile.

"Yes," she said, placing a kiss on his cheek, "Together."

They grinned at one another, pleased with the change in mood that had taken place. Ginny took his hand in hers, brow furrowing a bit. "How do you do that?"

He winked back at her. "It's a talent."

"Please tell me that's not him."

In the busy pub, Hermione glanced towards Ron's line of sight. In the booth ahead of them sat a man in his forties, nursing a large tankard of beer. He looked as though he'd been there for some time, leaning slightly. He had handsome features, but his disheveled and inebriated state seemed to overshadow that fact. As they stared, the man let out a belch, waving his tankard to the barmaid for a refill. In front of him on the table lay reading glasses, along with a quill and parchment. His eyes met the couple, and he raised a hand to them in greeting.

"It's him," Hermione confirmed with a resigned sigh.

"You sure? The bloke looks like he lives here," Ron said in disgust.

"Beggars can't be choosers, Ron." Grabbing Ron by the lapel, she dragged him towards the booth.

"Hello, gorgeous," the man said as soon as they sat. Ron made a move to jump right back up to leave, but Hermione held him down.

"It's Granger, sir," She said, all business. "Hermione Granger. And this is Ron Weasley."

"Her fiance," Ron emphasized.

The man's eyebrows shot up. "Ah! Weasley! I know the name-"

"Everyone does," Ron said sourly.

"Right, right." The man extended a friendly hand. "Call me Connor." After shaking hands with the couple, he offered a round of drinks, to which Ron snorted and Hermione declined, stating they would rather move things along. She began to explain their predicament, and Connor appeared to be taking detailed notes.

"And even though Tom is dead, Ginny is still trapped as a Mermaid-"

"A Mermaid?" Connor gasped, eyes wide. "I love Mermaids!"

"Haven't you been listening?" Ron demanded angrily.

"Well, yes. I mean mostly."

"But that's why we're here," Hermione emphasized, "She is stuck this way!"

Connor sat back, shaking his head. "That's bloody rough, that is. Poor girl."

Ron looked ready to blow a vessel, and his glare snapped Connor back to attention.

"Yes, right. Well, I have a list of questions for you lot."

Harry trudged slowly to his bed, loosening his collar and tie as he did so.

After a Floo call with Ron and Hermione about the meeting with the Curse-breaker, the hope that they were finally getting the help they needed shriveled up. After hours of questioning (and a hefty sum of Galleons) the meeting had ended with Connor citing he needed time to research but giving no answers. Ron was convinced the man was a con artist and a drunk, and after what he heard, Harry was inclined to agree with him. Hermione, however, still seemed optimistic. She said the man did have some impressive personal references, and that he should be given adequate time to do his job.

Harry flopped back on the bed with a sigh. He didn't care about the money. The man could go smoke Floo Powder with it for all he cared. But he had been hoping for some answers. And tomorrow, Ginny would be begging to hear what had happened. He rubbed his face with his hands, wishing he had something- anything- to tell her.

For the first time in weeks, his thoughts turned to Sirius. His Godfather had been such a great source of encouragement and comfort...

Harry and Ginny were standing in the Grotto.

He could hardly believe it- but she was standing before him- on two beautiful, very human- legs. She wore a white nightgown that fell to her thighs. Long red tresses fell to her waist. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, the curves of her breasts beautifully outlined through the white fabric. Her lips were parted, and he could see desire gleaming in her eyes. Desire that coursed through him as well. His heart slammed in his chest, and he roughly pulled her into a heated kiss. Their lips were frantic as they kissed, heat rising between them and creating steam. He held her to him, wanting to feel as much of her as he could. After long, sweet moments, they simply had to break apart to breathe. When they did so, Ginny flinched, startled by something. She looked down in confusion at her foot. A deathly-white hand with unnaturally long fingers wrapped itself around her ankle. The hand jerked hard. The motion threw Ginny off balance and sent her to the ground. Harry grasped her arms to pull her back up, but before he could the hand pulled on her again and began dragging her towards the edge of the rock. She cried out as she was hauled towards the water, reaching for Harry frantically. He caught her by the elbows just as her legs dipped into the water. Her eyes were wild. Frightened. A sinister chuckle echoed off the wet rock walls. Harry glanced behind Ginny, knowing who it was before he saw him. A chuckling Tom Riddle was there in the water, grasping Ginny's legs. He stood there young, shirtless, red eyes-gleaming.

"You," Harry said in disbelief. "You're dead. I killed you."

But Tom only laughed, and as he laughed, he pulled harder on Ginny, and she began slipping through Harry's arms. She was screaming and screaming, and he just couldn't seem to hold onto her. He blinked and she was pried away from him, now in the water with Tom- his hand at her throat.

Harry made to dive into the water, but the surface would become solid everywhere he tried. He made to move closer, but some invisible force prevented him. Tom laughed harder at his struggle. Ginny was choking under the grip of his hand. She was dying, and he couldn't get to her- couldn't help her. Her nightgown seemed to dissolve, her kicking legs blurred and became a Mermaid tail. And still, she was fading from him. He was losing her. It was his worst nightmare-

'Harry.'

Tom stopped laughing. He was still holding Ginny, who was now limp and unmoving.

'Harry.'

He felt a hand on his shoulder. And just like with Tom, he did not need to look to know who it was. Slowly he turned to the man beside him, not daring to hope he would see who he knew was there with him.

The grotto was gone, and the two men stood in a clearing in the forbidden forest. The very clearing where he had last laid his eyes on his Godfather. Sirius looked now just as he did then- whole, unharmed, and otherworldly. A lump rose in his throat as he felt Sirius squeeze his shoulder, and his eyes burned.

"Sirius, I..."

Words seemed to fail him. A silent plea rose inside him, a plea for help, for direction, for anything. He was failing Ginny, he was failing himself. It was becoming more and more difficult to tread above doubts and hopelessness.

"I'm lost right now, Padfoot."

Sirius was silent, stoic. But his mere presence was everything.

"She needs my help," Harry continued. It felt so good to speak to him. Even if none of it was real. Even if he woke up in the morning and remembered nothing. It meant the world to just have him near. "I want to help her, but I just don't know how. I worry she is starting to give up, and that terrifies me. I swore to her I would fix this, but I can see the belief crumbling in her eyes. She even tried to send me away." He swallowed hard. "How long before she gives up completely? She's become such a part of me now. I don't know if I could handle-" He ran a hand through his hair. "She's suffered, Sirius. Badly. I just want to help her." He looked into the face of his Godfather. So serene. So at peace. But he understood. Harry knew he did.

"I just want to help."

Sirius reached forward and grabbed a hold of his hand. He placed a small object in Harry's palm. Harry blinked, looking down. The object was not an object at all, but what looked like a small succulent. It was not like any succulent he had ever seen before. It seemed to have no roots, with leaves that curled upwards and in on itself. The leaves were a glowing, translucent green, like they had somehow captured a bit of moonlight. He looked back up at Sirius, questioning. Still silent, his gaze intensified. Harry nearly jolted as memories of growing up with Sirius began assaulting him. For a moment, he was sure Sirius was performing Legilimency on him. And perhaps he was, because a memory rose to the forefront of his mind- a memory of sitting at a makeshift desk as Sirius droned on about the day's lesson, and Harry rolled his eyes as he skimmed the pages of his book, a book that held a picture of the very plant he held in his hand. The implication of what it could do, of what it could mean-

Harry shot up in bed with a gasp.

Unwilling to waste a single second, he threw back the covers and dressed for the day. Less than an hour later, he was out of the Hogwarts grounds, Apparating to the nearest apothecary.

It took nearly the entire day, with multiple trips to different shops, each one leaving him empty-handed. It wasn't until the sun was setting, that he found himself at a tiny shop outside of Cornwall. The frail, elderly owner shuffled to a glass cabinet.

"Rare plant this, not nobody be asking for it ever."

The man withdrew a jar from the back, opening it with shaky hands. He then placed the tiny, glowing succulent into Harry's palm.

"Not much uses for this plant 'neither, truth be told. A few rare functions… odd stuff. More of a decoration than anythin."

Harry held it gently, almost reverently. Finally, a small glimmer of hope.

"So, er, this will fix your problem, will it?" The old man asked doubtfully.

"No," Harry murmured, not looking away from the plant. "It's not going to solve my problem." Ginny's sad face flitted across his mind, filling him with the urgency to return to her side. "But it is going to help."

TBC

Thanks to Gin110881 and Deadwoodpecker for their help with this chapter!