Author's Note: This is a companion piece to Winky's
As Strong As We Are United,
this time from Ginny's point of view. It would definitely help to read
that one first. The title and much of my inspiration came from the song
Let Me In by Save Ferris. Thanks to Winky for letting me borrow her brilliant
conversation, and many thanks to Arabella for her thoughtful comments
and gentle prodding in the right direction.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to J. K. Rowling,
the dialogue belongs to Winky, the lyrics belong to Save Ferris, and Harry
belongs to Ginny. ;)
***
Ginny Weasley stared up at the constellations glittering
on her charmed ceiling. It was quite late;
she had already watched several of the constellations'
real counterparts cycle across the sky and vanish below the horizon
outside her window. Across the room Hermione slept soundly in her own
bed, Crookshanks curled at her feet. The rest of the Burrow was silent
but for the faint rumble of snores from the
boys' rooms. Even the ghoul in the attic
had stopped banging his pipes. The whole house seemed wrapped in peaceful
slumber.
Except Ginny. She was thinking, of course, about
Harry Potter. Not that this was anything
new for her. Ginny had long since grown accustomed to thinking
of her life in terms of Before Harry and After Harry. Watching him was
as much a part of her as her freckles or her stubborn hair or the infamous
Weasley temper. Sometimes she thought she knew Harry better than her
own brothers. She knew his favourite subject, his favourite foods, his
moods and expressions, the sound of his walk.
She knew the dimple between his brows that
meant he was thinking hard, the glint that appeared in his eyes
when he was devising new Quidditch tactics. She also knew, with painful
certainty, that Harry thought of her only as his best friend's little
sister. The irony of her situation was not lost on Ginny. In fact it
had been responsible for a fair share of sleepless nights before this
one.
Tonight, though, Ginny was not thinking of all
the things she knew about Harry Potter. She
was thinking that something was wrong with him, that she didn't
know what it was, and that it was driving her crazy. Ever since Harry's
arrival at the Burrow she had sensed that something was different about
him, but everyone else--including Harry--was pretending that things were
normal. Ginny realized that Hermione and Ron knew more than she did about
what had happened last year after the Third Task. Normally she would have
believed Hermione when she said that Harry was dealing with it the way
he always did, and that he would be fine
the way he always was.
But Harry was definitely not fine, and Ginny didn't
understand how no one else could see this.
She saw it in the smudges that never quite disappeared from
beneath his green eyes, in the way his gaze automatically swept a room
whenever he entered, in the times when his
hand slipped unconsciously to his pocket
to check that his wand was still there. Ginny wasn't stupid. She could
guess what was troubling Harry, what made him lie awake at night and check
for enemies in every corner. But she could never know for sure, because
he wouldn't talk about it. And unless he did, neither she nor anyone
else could help him. The thought made her desperate.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force her
thoughts into focus. One thing was clear--Harry
was still very upset about what had happened to Cedric.
Ginny thought about Harry's reaction to what Malfoy said in Diagon Alley--she
knew she would never forget the look on his face at that moment.
Afterwards he had said he knew people didn't blame
him for Cedric's death. He had tried to shake
off the incident and even managed to laugh about it. But
Ginny knew that didn't mean he wasn't blaming himself. She suspected that
despite his words Harry still felt guilty about Cedric, still wished he
had done something differently that night.
After all, Ginny herself still felt horrible
about opening the Chamber of Secrets, and no one had even died.
But she had learned not to hold herself responsible for things that were
beyond her control.
Ginny thought she could make Harry understand that
too, if only he would give her the chance. Gone were the days when she
could only blush and stammer and otherwise humiliate herself in his presence.
Now she could talk to him about any number of things, except for the one
thing that really mattered. Because Harry
had never let her get close enough to that part
of his life. Even Ron and Hermione were shut out of it sometimes.
Ginny knew perfectly well why Harry always did
his best to push people away. She understood
his fear that people close to him would become targets for the
Dark Lord. She admired his noble willingness to protect others at his
own expense; she had come to expect nothing
less from him. Yet understanding and appreciating
Harry's motives didn't make it any easier to live
with the precarious barriers he so desperately maintained. When she tried
to be optimistic Ginny felt glad that Harry cared enough about her to
want to shelter her. But most other times
she simply felt furious with him for being
so stubborn. Tonight was one of the latter.
With sudden resolution Ginny threw off the covers
and got out of bed. This would never do.
She was trembling all over with frustration and anger. She needed
to do something to calm her frazzled nerves, before she lost control completely.
Silently she crept out of the room and down the stairs.
The summer night was surprisingly chilly as she
stepped into the yard. Shivering slightly,
Ginny began to walk down one of the overgrown garden paths.
The cool breeze soothed her irritation and revived her weary mind.
All at once Ginny knew what she had to do. This
had gone on long enough. If Harry wanted
to push her away, fine. That didn't mean she had to let him.
She was going to talk to him, and he was just going to have to listen.
There was no way she could let him go back
to Hogwarts in his current state. If he didn't
eventually fall to pieces, then she certainly would, watching
him try to hold himself together.
Ginny made up her mind right then and there. Tomorrow,
at the first opportunity, she would corner
Harry and make him see reason. Surely she could
make up some excuse to talk to him alone. The morning would be pretty
hectic, but once they were on the train she
should have plenty of time...Caught up in
her feverish musings, Ginny rounded a corner and nearly fainted.
Harry was sitting on the bench in the corner of
the garden, wearing a faded pair of striped
pajamas. He was hunched over, his head in his hands, fingers
tangled in his messy hair. He looked exhausted, incredibly fragile, and
utterly alone.
"Oh!" The startled gasp slipped out before Ginny
could stop it, thankfully preventing her
from following her first impulse, which was to throw her arms around
him and rock him like a child.
Harry looked up sharply, eyes widening at the sight
of her standing there watching him. Ginny
felt her courage failing, all her plans falling in shambles
around her. She had just interrupted a rare moment of privacy, which
he plainly wished she hadn't seen. How could she ever hope to talk to
him now?
"I didn't know you were out here," Ginny said automatically,
avoiding his eyes. "I'm sorry."
"That's okay," said Harry. "I was just thinking."
Ginny stared. Harry wasn't upset with her. He didn't
want her to go away. In fact, he was scooting
over on the bench to make room for her.
"Do you want to sit down?"
"Oh--" Ginny shook herself. "Yes." She sank down
beside him, her heart pounding. "Thanks."
She managed a shy smile. Maybe her plan could work after
all. If she could just find a way to begin...
After a pause Harry's voice interrupted her harried
thoughts. "Couldn't sleep?" When she nodded
he asked, "Excited about school tomorrow?"
Ginny almost laughed. If he only knew. "Sort of,"
she said instead. "Hermione's been helping
me a lot with curses and countercurses for Defense Against
the Dark Arts. I hope we have a good teacher this year."
"I wish Professor Lupin were still at Hogwarts,"
sighed Harry. "He was the best Defense Against
the Dark Arts teacher we ever had."
"I thought so, too," Ginny agreed. "I'll never
forget how he stood up to that dementor on
the train." She couldn't suppress a small shudder, remembering
what she had felt in those few agonizing moments. "I hate to think
what would have happened if it had been that prat Lockhart instead."
"He probably would have jumped out the window and
left us, the worthless coward," snorted Harry
in disgust.
Ginny shook her head. "I don't know what I'll do
if we get another one like him. It would
be just too awful." She looked up at the stars with a sigh. "Especially
now."
Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you
mean?"
Ginny faced him seriously. Maybe this would be
easier than she thought. "Things are different
now, Harry," she pointed out quietly. "With Voldemort back
we all need to know how to protect ourselves, how to fight against the
Dark Arts and the Unforgivable Curses. We
have to be prepared."
Harry looked at her blankly. "But-we'll be safe
at Hogwarts as long as Dumbledore is there,"
he said, sounding very much as if he were trying to convince
himself as well as her.
Ginny's heart ached for him. "I know," she said,
"but that doesn't mean we shouldn't be extra careful." She dropped her
gaze, the old bitterness seeping into her voice as she pressed on. "Just
look what happened to me because I didn't know how to recognize Dark Magic-people
nearly died because of me." And even worse, though Ginny couldn't bring
herself to say it--Harry nearly died
because of her. For a moment she could not go on,
lost in the familiar nightmare of what her ignorance had almost cost them
all. But with a determined lift of her chin Ginny forced those thoughts
aside to meet Harry's eyes staunchly. "I don't want to be a pawn for
the Dark Lord again."
He shook his head. "But that wasn't your fault.
It could have happened to anyone."
Ginny nodded, more than a little relieved that
he didn't blame her. "Maybe so, but I still
feel horrible about it," she admitted. She searched his face,
gathering her courage. Here was her chance, and she couldn't afford to
make a mistake. "Cedric's death wasn't your fault, either," she said gently,
"but don't you wish you could have done something differently, and maybe
it wouldn't have happened?"
Harry didn't answer. He looked away, and Ginny
wondered frantically if she had gone too
far. At least she knew her suspicions had been correct-he did feel
guilty about Cedric's murder. How many other burdens was he trying to
shoulder alone?
Ginny's blood was ringing in her ears as the silence
stretched between them. Harry still wouldn't
look at her. He was staring unseeing at his hands, which
twisted nervously in his lap. Ginny couldn't help herself. With no thought
other than to soothe him, she reached out and placed a comforting hand
on his arm. It wasn't until she felt the warmth of his body beneath her
fingers that Ginny realized what she had done. A thrill--part exhilaration,
part terror, and part something else entirely--shivered through
her. Harry turned slightly, bright eyes piercing her own.
Ginny fought to find her breath. "Harry, you can't
change what happened any more than I can," she told him softly, "but you
can change the future." Her voice grew stronger as she continued
earnestly. "You can
fight back, and you can defeat Voldemort, once and for all.
I know you can, because you won't be alone next time."
"What?" He looked up sharply. "What are you talking
about?"
Ginny felt her irritation returning. Did he really
think he could make it on his own? Did he
really think they would let him? "Oh, come off it, Harry,"
she said. "You saved my life, and Ron's and Hermione's, and everyone's
in the wizarding world if you think about it. Do you honestly believe
any of us are going to stand by and let you face Voldemort alone again?"
"But--" Harry began, and stopped. He looked away
again and shut his eyes.
Ginny watched the struggle in his face, feeling
quite desperate. This was it. She could almost
see him rebuilding the walls around him. She had to get
through to him somehow, before things got any worse. Surprised by her
own boldness, Ginny reached out and took
his hand. Another thrill coursed through
her, making it difficult to concentrate on anything but his warm palm
against her fingertips.
"Look, Harry," she said, gathering herself once
more, "I know you must be really worried
about what's going to happen this year. We all are. But it's
no use torturing yourself--what will come will come, and when it does,
all of us will face it together." For emphasis
Ginny squeezed his hand gently, her heart
leaping painfully when he met her eyes again. "That's why we're
going to win, Harry," she continued firmly. "Maybe not right away, maybe
not even soon. But eventually Voldemort will lose, because he doesn't
have what we do."
Harry shook his head, confused. "What, you mean
the Boy Who Lived? But I'm not--"
"I didn't mean you," Ginny interrupted. "At least
not that way." She paused, searching for
the right words, and when she found them they all seemed
to tumble out at once in their haste to be spoken. "I meant bravery, loyalty,
selflessness--everything that's helped you defeat Voldemort in the past.
Good people--people like Dumbledore, your parents, Professor Lupin--those
are the people on our side, people who chose a side because they
knew it was the right one, and not because they thought it would win.
Voldemort doesn't understand that. His followers
only support him out of fear and selfishness,
and in the end he'll be all alone. But you, Harry Potter,"
Ginny squeezed his hand again, looking up at him intently, "you'll never
be alone. Everyone in the wizarding world is going to fight, too, no matter
what it takes. And we're going to win, because real power comes from loyalty
and love and sacrifice, not curses and Dark Magic."
Ginny finished breathlessly, feeling as if a great
weight had been lifted from her heart. She
had wanted--no, needed--to say that for so long!
And she had never said anything with such conviction
in all her life. But Harry was staring at
her mutely, and she couldn't read the expression in his eyes
behind the moonlight reflecting off his glasses.
The seconds crept by. Harry still didn't say anything,
and Ginny realized with a wretched sinking
feeling that she had made a terrible mistake.
Despite all her good intentions she had somehow
overstepped her bounds. It wasn't her place
to say those things to Harry, and she had hurt him. Ginny ducked
her head to hide the tears welling in her eyes. That was it, then.
She had had her chance, but she had failed. Now
Harry would never let her in, and she would
never be able to help him.For one wild moment
Ginny wished she were still her old self, the awestruck little
girl who could only watch her hero from afar. Things had been so much
simpler then. At least then she would never have had this conversation
with Harry, never have hurt him and ruined
their friendship. Ginny bit back a sob. She
needed to get away, and she was certain he wouldn't be sorry to see
her go.
She let go of his hand and stood up. "I think I'll
go to bed," she mumbled without looking at
him.
But Harry stood up as well, catching her by the
shoulder. A shudder passed through her at
his touch, so that her knees threatened to give way and she nearly
stumbled. It seemed as though all of her being had suddenly converged
in the small curve of her arm where she could feel the pressure of his
hand through her sleeve.
"Ginny, wait," he said, apparently oblivious to
her trembling. Her eyes flew to his face,
a glimmer of hope welling inside her. "Er," he faltered.
Ginny waited, frozen in anticipation of whatever
he was about to say.
Harry's forehead was wrinkled in concentration,
his lips parted as if on the verge of declaring
something quite significant. But after a tense moment he dropped
his gaze, closing his mouth again, and Ginny's hope faded as quickly as
it had appeared. Suddenly she felt very, very tired.
"Harry, it's very late," she said dully, passing
a hand over her eyes. "I think we should
go back inside." She turned away again as Harry let go of her.
"Thank you." Harry's voice, though quite low, stopped
her once more.
Ginny's breath caught in her throat. Had she really
heard him right? Her heart began to pound
wildly. Maybe she hadn't failed after all. Maybe--
"Thank you," repeated Harry, flooding her with
relief. He took two quick steps toward her
and grasped her hand. Now Ginny's breath stopped entirely.
This wasn't real, it just couldn't be happening,
not after what she had said--
"I think you're right," Harry was saying slowly.
"It's just like what Dumbledore said: we're
only as strong as we are united."
It took a moment for Ginny to fully comprehend
what he had said. Then a smile blossomed
over her face; she felt almost giddy with success. "That's right,"
she managed when she could speak, looking down at his hand holding her
own. With a tremendous effort she forced herself to ignore the pleasant
tingling running through her arm and concentrate
instead on what she had to say. "We all believe
that--Mum, Dad, my brothers, Hermione, and me." She met
his eyes solemnly. "You can count on us to fight with you, Harry. Remember
that."
Harry nodded gravely. "I will. Thank you."
"You're welcome," answered Ginny automatically.
She was nearly beside herself with relief
and a curious sort of buzzing that filled her head. She couldn't
seem to stop smiling.
Harry smiled back, then let go of her hand to gesture
toward the Burrow.
"We should go in," he said.
She could only nod in agreement, feeling oddly
bereft without the comfort of his hand around
hers. They walked silently side by side back to the house.
When they got inside Ginny paused at the foot of
the stairs. She wasn't ready to go to bed
just yet, she discovered. Something had happened between them
tonight, something special, and she didn't want to let it go.
"I'm going to make some hot chocolate," she whispered.
"Do you want some?"
But Harry shook his head. "No, that's all right.
I think I better go to bed." She tried not
to let her disappointment show. "And Ginny?" he whispered
as she turned toward the kitchen. "Thank you."
Ginny smiled again, her regret forgotten. "Goodnight,
Harry."
"Goodnight, Ginny." He smiled too, before turning
to disappear up the stairs.
Ginny watched him go, torn between laughter and
tears. The silence of the house descended
once more, leaving her alone with her turbulent thoughts.
Mechanically she went about making her hot chocolate,
hardly registering the cool of the kitchen
floor beneath her bare feet. Upstairs the boys snored on
as she crept into the living room and settled onto the couch. Harry's
voice was still echoing through her head,
her skin still humming wherever his hands
had touched. Ginny tucked her legs up beneath her, as if by holding
herself in she could somehow hold onto those feelings as well.
What a night. Ginny knew instinctively that things
would never be the same again. After all
this time, after all those years of watching and waiting, Harry
had finally let her get close enough to share his worries. He had finally
let her show him that she understood, and finally realized that he didn't
have to be alone. Harry hadn't let his walls down completely, she knew.
But together they had made a start.
Ginny sat in the hushed darkness with her eyes
closed, remembering the reassuring warmth
of Harry's palm pressed against her own. That was a start,
she thought again. It was a definite start, and that was enough.
The End
Author's Note: For anyone interested in the song
that inspired this, here are the lyrics.
If you can find the song you really ought to have a listen--it's
quite lovely, and (I think) very Ginny.
I've been watching you and all you do
For quite some time
Knowing all the ins and outs of you
I should have known what was on your mind
But all the world is spinning round and round
Inside my head tonight
I will fall into the darkness
And I fear I will never see the light
I've been watching you and all you do
For quite some time
Knowing all the ins and outs of you
I should have known what was on your mind
But all the world is spinning round and round
Inside my head tonight
I will fall into the darkness
And I fear I will never see the light
The light
So let me in
All that I wanted from you
Was something you'd never do
So let me in
Oh, please tonight
Don't let this end, tonight
I will fall
Through the light the darkness seems to be
So very strong
How does one alone against the world
Find the strength to carry on?
What happened to the way we used to love?
It seemed as though life had just begun
But now that love has come and gone to fade away
Like the setting sun
'Cause you won't let me in
All that I wanted from you
Was something you'd never do
So let me in
Oh, please tonight
Don't let this end, tonight
'Cause I'm starting to fall
So let me in
It was all that I wanted from you
It was something you never knew
To let me in
But not tonight
For this is the end, tonight
I fall
