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Losing Each Other | ||||||
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Category: Post-HBP, Buried Gems Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, Other, Ron Weasley Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 169 Summary: This story follows Harry and Ginny from their parting after Dumbledore's funeral. Much of it is told from Ginny's POV. The first chapter, "Ginny's Mermaid," was originally posted as a one-shot. I have revised it slightly as part of this longer story, but it is essentially the same as it was when I first posted it. Hitcount: Story Total: 106081; Chapter Total: 7199 |
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Harry stood up. “Come on,” he said to Hermione. “I want to know everything.” “Do you mean right now, in the library?” Hermione said. “Ron told me you’re all supposed to go see Madame Pomfrey. Judging from Ginny’s face, I’d say that’s a good idea.” Ginny put her hand to her cheek. “What?” she exclaimed. She jumped up and ran to a window and looked at her reflection. “Oh my God.” She touched the large bruise under her eye. “I’ll see you all at lunch,” she said on the way to the portrait hole. Ron got up. “I’d better go with her. My hand’s killing me.” At lunchtime, the only topic in the Great Hall was the match. The Cannons sat at the Slytherin table again, but no students joined them. Harry, Ron and Ginny could scarcely get a bite of food to their mouths, with all the indignant comments and questions that were thrown their way. It was the consensus that the referee had stolen the game for Chudley. Harry promised everyone that next time would be different. The four spent the rest of the afternoon in the common room debating Hermione’s news, and the more they talked, the more unhappy Ginny became. Hermione had located the graveyard on a map, and Harry wanted to go there immediately. Hermione insisted that they needed a plan, that what they had gone through last summer showed that disaster would be the outcome otherwise. That made sense to Ginny, but she didn’t know how rationally she could talk about it. She would not be able to go with them; she would have to wait at school or at home wondering whether they were all dead, or maimed, or taken captive by Lord Voldemort. She did not contribute much to the conversation. Hermione and Ron finally wore Harry down. “I agree that we can’t go right away,” he conceded, “but we can’t wait much longer. The Ministry hasn’t captured a single Death Eater since last spring, the fog is getting worse, and no one has a clue where Voldemort is. The longer we wait, the stronger he gets, and the harder it will be to do anything about the Horcruxes.” It was left at that. In the following days, Harry and Ron started spending more time in the library with Hermione – and Harry even more hours there by himself. But Ginny never went with them. Her heart was not into helping plan an adventure that she could not join, but which was bound to leave her in a state of total anxiety. She began to feel more and more detached from the trio as they became more and more engrossed in their plans. And resentment grew inside her. After everything she had done for Harry in the past five or six months, after all the comfort and support she had given without asking anything in return, she was now being ignored at the very moment he would be needing more help than ever. She avoided them all. Days, then weeks passed without her talking to Harry. A few days before the end of term, Ginny was reading in the library when Hermione appeared and sat down next to her. “How are you doing?” Hermione asked. “We haven’t seen much of you lately.” Ginny looked at her, and felt the resentment rising. She turned back to her book. “I’m fine,” she said testily. “Why do you ask?” “Because you’re not fine. Right now you look really angry. You’ve been staying away from us. And something’s happening that I don’t think you’ve noticed.” “And what is that?” “Harry,” Hermione said simply. Ginny slammed the book shut. “Is Harry upset again? Then why doesn’t he come talk to me? Then he can tell me again that he’s sorry, that he can’t help it, that he’s scared, that he doesn’t want to fight, and then he’ll feel better and off you’ll go, and I’ll be left wondering if you’re all dead or alive.” She stood up. “No thanks, Hermione, not this time. Go find your you—know—what, that he didn’t want to tell me about, and if you all come back in one piece I’ll bake you a cake.” She glared at Hermione and then at the students sitting nearby who were staring at her. Hermione also stood up and grabbed Ginny’s arm. “Ginny Weasley, you are wrong!” She saw Madame Pince stalking toward them down an aisle. “Come with me!” she hissed at Ginny. She yanked Ginny away and dragged her out of the library. Ginny protested, but only half—heartedly; it actually felt good to be noticed by Hermione again, even if it meant being hauled by her through the corridors of Hogwarts. Hermione pulled her into an empty classroom, slammed the door shut, and turned on her. “No one has left you out,” she began without ceremony. “You have excluded yourself. Harry has been asking why you don’t talk to us anymore. His spells are going badly again. He thinks you’re mad at him.” “And he’s right!” Ginny shouted, stamping her foot. “How many times do I have to go through this? Why didn’t he come here himself? Why is he sending you to do it?” “No one sent me. And you’re right, he should have talked to you himself. But do you both have to act like bloody fools?” “I don’t think I‘m acting like a fool,” Ginny said coldly. “I can’t go with you, Harry is afraid of me, and I’m the one who’ll be left alone at the end of it all.” She turned and walked to the teacher’s desk; it was covered with dozens of tea cups from a first—year Transfiguration class. She turned to face Hermione. “I think I’m acting pretty rationally.” “Ginny, no, Harry’s not afraid of you. When you pull away from him, he doesn’t want to pull you back, which makes sense because he thinks you and he can’t be together, he thinks it’s too dangerous. Maybe it doesn’t make sense and maybe he’s wrong, but he really needs you.” Ginny’s anger had passed, but not her frustration. “You know, he’s always telling me how hard it is for him, and he’s right, and everyone sees that. But who sees how hard it is for me? Hermione, I have never wished that I didn’t want him, but I always wish that –“ There was a shout from the hallway. “Hermione! Where are you?” It was Ron. They heard doors banging, then Ron burst in. “Thank God I found you!” He was out of breath and shaken. “Harry’s gone!” Ginny felt a momentary blackness, and leaned on a desk. “What do you mean, gone?” she demanded. “How could he be gone?” “His broomstick’s gone. I thought he was going down to the pitch, but he’s not there.” “He could be anyplace, Ron.” Ginny tried to keep calm. “Is anything else missing? What about his dad’s cloak?” Ron nodded, trepidation in his eyes. “It’s not there. I checked his trunk. I tell you, he’s gone.” Ginny sat in a chair and put her head in her hands. “Ginny.” Hermione was wringing her hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know this would happen.” She sat down next to her. “I can’t believe it. Why would he do this?” Ginny took a deep breath; she began to feel calmer. “Well, at least we know where he went. Penzance in Cornwall.” “Maybe.” Ron was uncertain. “He could go to Grimmauld Place, or the Dursley’s, or Godric’s Hollow.” Hermione shook her head. “No, I think Ginny’s right. He was becoming more and more impatient. I think he’ll go straight to the graveyard.” She grimaced. “I mean, to find Merope’s grave.” “Then we should tell the Order!” Ginny exclaimed. She stood up. “We have to do something!” “At least we have to tell McGonagall,” Hermione said. “She needs to know that one of her students is missing.” They hurried up the stairs to the Headmistress’s office. As they stood blankly before the stone gargoyle wondering what the password was, Ginny also wondered to herself why she was not more upset. Why was she not frantic for Harry’s safety? Someone came up behind them. “Whenever I see any members of this particular coterie of students near my office, it usually means trouble.” They turned, and Professor McGonagall gazed at them with arched eyebrows. “Professor!” Hermione exclaimed. “Something’s happened! We need to talk to you!” “Can it wait until we’re inside my office?” Without waiting for an answer she turned to the gargoyle. “Toss the caber!” she spoke, and it sprang aside. She led them up the spiral staircase into her office, then sat down behind her desk and looked them over. “Well?” “Harry’s left the school,” Ginny said. “His broomstick and his Invisibility Cloak are gone.” McGonagall frowned. “And where did he go?” Ginny hesitated. “We—we’re not sure, but we think he went into Cornwall.” This surprised the Headmistress. “Why would he go there? I was not aware that he knew anyone in that part of the country.” Ginny looked around at her friends. Ron was gritting his teeth, and he gave her a small shake of his head. Hermione saw it. “What do you think, Ginny?” she said in a low voice. “I think yes.” “I think no!” Ron snapped. “Harry decides who knows.” “I can’t help you, Mr. Weasley,” McGonagall declared, “unless you tell me what on earth is going on. I let you re—open the Chamber of Secrets because Mr. Potter told me that Tom Riddle may have left something there. Did he also leave something in Cornwall?” “There may be a Horcrux there,” Ginny blurted. Ron swore. McGonagall stood up abruptly and leaned forward, her hands on the desk. She fixed Ginny with a hard stare. “Keep your voice down!” she said sharply, and glanced at the nearby portraits. “What do you know about Horcruxes? And sit, all of you!” “Harry learned about them from Professor Dumbledore last year,” Hermione explained as they sat in the chairs that appeared behind them. “He gave Harry permission to tell us.” “All of you?” McGonagall said skeptically, and glanced at Ginny. “Harry told me later,” Ginny said. “The point is, I know now. And we think that Harry’s looking for one in Cornwall, in a graveyard somewhere near a town called Penzance.” McGonagall sat back down but said nothing. Ginny did not want to look at Ron, so she kept her eyes fixed on the Professor. Finally the Headmistress spoke. “This is not a simple situation. Mr. Potter is of age, and he is entitled to go wherever he wants. And, discounting the Dursleys, he has no family to be informed. I assume you will tell your parents,” she looked at Ginny and Ron, “but they have no guardianship over him.” She frowned. “However, even if I were not bound by the Order of the Phoenix, I would let his friends know what he has done. As it is, I am bound by the Order to inform them of anything that might even remotely involve Lord Voldemort, or, it may surprise you to know, Harry Potter.” “So you will tell them? When?” Ginny asked; that would be one less burden on them. McGonagall glanced back at a large picture frame, empty except for an ornate, high—backed chair. “They probably already know.” She smiled briefly. “I believe that Professor Dumbledore was listening to us and left only a few moments ago. He has a habit, annoying at times, of lurking in the background of his portrait. He doesn’t want to distract people, he says.” Ginny, Ron, and Hermione gaped at the portrait; they had not noticed anything. The Headmistress looked at them sternly. “I must make a serious request of you two, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, and an order to you, Miss Weasley. I do not want any of you to leave the school until the holiday break begins. I want you to promise me that.” They all nodded and murmured their assent, although Ron seemed to do it reluctantly. “Very well.” McGonagall stood. “I know that you will keep silent about this as far as other students are concerned. Good day.” They did not speak on their way back to the Gryffindor tower. When they arrived, Ginny went straight up to her room. She wanted to be alone and sort through her very confused feelings. She knelt down by her cage of Pygmy Puffs and took one out. She sat on her bed and stroked it’s soft, downy fur; it made a twittering noise each time she caressed it. Harry had laughed when she told him last summer that she had got more Puffs at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. “Cute,” he had said. Now Harry had disappeared. Ginny wondered why she wasn’t in a frenzy. She leaned back against her pillow and thought, and finally it came to her. Harry’s running off meant that a resolution would come. His disappearance made her even more a part of his small circle of friends than she had been when they were together last year; Hermione and Ron even deferred to her when they were talking to McGonagall. If Harry pushed her away now, that would be the end of it. But if he did not, that would mean the beginning of everything. She would have him or she would not. The uncertainty would end. She heaved a sigh. The Pygmy Puff chirped, and Ginny realized that she was squeezing the poor creature. She laughed and cuddled it, then got up and put it in its cage and went back to her bed. Soon she would be going home for the Christmas holiday; she would be with her family and their best friends. She would sleep in her own room, and maybe the sun would rise through the window and she could watch her shadow, with a golden halo, climb down the wall. If she had to wait for Harry, at least she would be waiting at home. The overcast sky was growing dark when Ginny awoke. She had fallen asleep and slept through the afternoon. She had no idea what time it was, but she was hungry. When she went downstairs, the common room was almost empty, and she thought it must be dinner time. But at that moment the portrait hole opened and Ron and Hermione stepped inside. They saw her and stopped; Ginny thought they looked nervous. “Ginny, you’re here!” Hermione exclaimed. “I peeked in your room but you were asleep.” “I was tired. What time is it? Did dinner start?” “We don’t have time.” Hermione took her arm and pulled her to the fireplace. “We need to talk. Ron and I have decided to go find Harry.” “What!” Ginny could not believe what she had heard. “You can’t! You promised McGonagall you would stay here! What will I do?” She had a sinking feeling that everything she had figured out a few hours ago was now wreckage. Once again she would be the odd—girl out, unnecessary and ignorant of everything that Harry was doing. She began to lose her composure. “Ginny,” Hermione said, “we weren’t going to leave without talking to you. Listen to us, please.” “What difference does it make? You’ll do what you want, so just do it. I’ll go home and then I’ll come back to school and then... I don’t know.” She was crying. Ron put his arms around her and pulled her to him; she wept on his shoulder. “Ron, please don’t do this. Don’t leave me alone.” “Listen to me, Ginny,” Ron said. “I know this is really bad for you, but I can’t leave Harry out there by himself. Maybe we’ll even find the Horcrux. But the main thing is, if something happened to him and I hadn’t tried to help, I could never forgive myself.” “Wh—what about M—McGonagall?” Ginny tried to get herself under control, but she didn’t let go of Ron. “We still have to talk to her,” Hermione said. “But we’re going after Harry, no matter what she says.” Ginny sat down. As soon as Ron had started to speak, she knew what he would say. She was surprised at herself for not realizing sooner that there was no way on earth that Ron would not go looking for Harry. “I understand,” she said reluctantly. “I guess I would do the same thing.” Ron took her hands and hauled her back out of the chair and hugged her. “Ginny, it’ll be all right. We’ll keep in touch somehow and we’ll bring him back safe, I promise.” “I don’t see how you can promise that, so don’t even say it.” “I’m gonna say it anyway, because I know it’s true.” Ginny shrugged. “Fine. I can’t do anything about any of it.” She turned to leave. “I did miss lunch and I don’t want to miss dinner.” Somehow the word had gotten out that Harry had left the castle grounds. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were pelted with questions as soon as they entered the Great Hall. Ginny ignored them. She had already decided what she was going to do, and was making plans in her mind. The holiday began in two days, so she would tell her parents that she was coming home early. If they had heard about Harry’s disappearance – which was probable – then they would agree completely. She wondered what their reaction would be to Ron’s taking off after Harry, but that was not her problem. When dinner ended, Hermione asked, half—heartedly, if she wanted to go see the Headmistress with them. Ginny had no interest in that, but told Hermione that she wanted to talk to her before they left. “Oh, we won’t be leaving until morning,” Hermione said. “We found out from Elspeth about her village and her house, so we’ll Apparate there. But we don’t want to turn up on her father’s doorstep in the dark.” “Why don’t you fly?” Ginny asked. “Too cold. And we’d have to fly above the mist. We could get lost too easily.” “That’s how Harry went. He probably got cold.” Hermione said nothing. Professor McGonagall was walking out the door of the Great Hall, and Ron watched her. “Come on.” He pulled Hermione from Ginny. “We’ll miss her.” They hurried away, leaving Ginny to fend off Neville and Luna, who had just walked up. “I don’t know where Harry went,” Ginny insisted. “Yes, it probably has something to do with Voldemort, but I don’t know what.” “I still have my coin.” Neville showed her his fake Galleon that Hermione had made two years ago. “I’m ready.” “Me, too, of course,” said Luna. She took the coin from Neville and held it up to the light. “It’s slightly different from mine. It has Armando Dippet on the obverse, but mine has Nicholas Flamel. I wonder if that matters?” “It hasn’t so far.” Ginny smiled. “I have to go. I fell asleep this afternoon and I’m way behind in a bunch of classes.” She waved to them and hurried out the door before anyone else could buttonhole her. She waited in the common room for Hermione and Ron. She didn’t bother trying to study; she knew she would not be able to concentrate. Besides, if she was going home tomorrow, what difference did it make? She sat in front of the fireplace, staring into the crackling flames and wondering where Harry was. A half—hour later Hermione and Ron arrived; they both looked abashed. For a moment Ginny’s heart leapt, but as soon as Ron spoke she knew that their decision to leave still stood. “Glad that’s over with,” he said as he fell into a chair. “She can really be unpleasant when she wants to.” “So can you,” Hermione muttered. “It’s a wonder she throw us out of the castle.” “I don’t care,” Ron said belligerently. “I’d like to leave tonight. Okay, okay! I know we can’t. I’m just telling you how I feel.” Hermione looked at Ginny. “McGonagall was furious, but there’s really nothing she can do about it. So we’re off, first thing in the morning.” Ginny looked into the fire again. “What if he’s not at the graveyard?” she asked. ”What will you do then?” “He has to go there sometime,” Hermione replied. “The Order is looking for him everywhere, including Penzance. Dumbledore showed up in his portrait and said that Harry had been at Grimmauld Place, but left and no one knows where he is now.” Ginny felt a tightening in her stomach. “Was Dumbledore... upset?” “No. He was his usual calm self.” “Cracked some jokes, actually,” Ron chipped in. “It really annoyed McGonagall,” he chuckled. Ginny looked at him sourly; Ron was starting to annoy her. “Well, I guess Dumbledore would know if anything had happened to Harry.” They all stared at the fire. “I’m going home early,” Ginny announced. Ron looked surprised, but Hermione nodded. “That’s good,” she said. “Everyone will be there. You won’t be alone.” “No, I won’t be alone. I’m sending Mum and Dad an owl tonight. Should I tell them that you won’t be home for Christmas?” she asked Ron. “No, don’t say that! We will be home! And so will Harry!” Ginny got up without a word, and walked out of the common room. She went to the owlery and sent her message. She waited there, and within an hour her mother had answered. She told Ginny to go to Professor McGonagall as soon as she was ready, and there would be a Portkey waiting in the Headmistress’s office. It took Ginny only a moment to decide to leave immediately. There was absolutely no reason for her to stay. She ran back to the Gryffindor tower, but Ron and Hermione were not in the common room. She dashed upstairs and threw the belongings that she would need into her trunk; it and the cage of Pygmy Puffs would be delivered later. She took her wand and a heavy cloak, glanced around the room, and left. The password still worked, and when she knocked on McGonagall’s door and entered the office, the Headmistress was at her desk writing out a parchment. Ginny eyed a rusty, battered, round metal object lying on the desk. “I’ve been told it’s called a hubcap by Muggles,” the Professor explained. “I don’t have the slightest idea what they use it for. Someone actually fished it out of the lake a few days ago.” Ginny looked at it dubiously. “It will work, won’t it?” “Of course it will,” McGonagall snapped. “Enough now. I didn’t expect you so soon, and I have some business to attend to, so please prepare yourself.” She touched the object with her wand. “Portus!.” Ginny put her hand on the Portkey, and in a few heartbeats she was in the kitchen of the Burrow. She looked around and cried out in delight. Seated at the table were her parents, the twins, Bill, Fleur, Remus Lupin, and Nymphadora Tonks. Everyone jumped up when she appeared, and her mother shrieked and grabbed her. “Oh, Ginny, how wonderful, how wonderful! Is everything well? I mean, are you?” Ginny hugged her mother and held her tightly. “No, Mum,” she whispered. “I’m not, but don’t ask me now.” The others gathered around and took turns hugging her. Tonks held her at arms length and appraised her, but said nothing. Dinner was in progress, and Mrs. Weasley quickly set another place. Ginny protested that she had already eaten, but her mother ignored her. Ginny stood for a moment; she was having trouble realizing where she was, and who she was with. Her happiness was overwhelming. Whomever she looked at, smiled or laughed; she knew that she was wearing the biggest grin of her life. Harry’s problems, Horcruxes, graveyards – nothing mattered. She basked in the cheer of her family and the warmth of her home. No one mentioned Harry or his disappearance. Fred and George were regaling the company with stories about the shop. Tonks was having trouble eating because she was laughing at them so much, and also because she was holding hands with Remus with her right hand and trying to eat with her left. Fleur was leaning on Bill’s shoulder. Molly was encouraging the twins to keep telling their stories, but wasn’t listening herself; she was too busy refilling everyone’s plate. People began asking Ginny about Hogwarts. They had heard that many fewer students were at the school this year, and they wanted to know how that affected everything. They all knew about the Quidditch tournament with Chudley; Bill and Fleur had been at the match in November. Ginny described how frustrated the whole team felt. “But don’t worry, we’ll show up next time, and things will be different, I promise you that,” she proclaimed. “‘Arry would ‘ave caught zat Snitch, but zere Keeper cheated,” Fleur said, and there was immediate silence. “Oh.” She looked around the table. “Maybe I shouldn’t ‘ave said zat. Ginny, I’m sorry.” Ginny shook her head and kept eating her dessert, a blueberry tart doused in clotted cream. “You’re right, so don’t be sorry,” she mumbled. With her mouth full of fruit, crust, sugar, and cream, nothing could bother or upset her. “We looked for you and Ron after the match,” Bill said, “but one of your teammates – it was that little girl who played Chaser – she told us you had gone up to the Gryffindor tower.” “Elspeth. She’s sweet.” Ginny smiled. Mr. Weasley belched discreetly. “Is that Elspeth Pendragon?” he asked. “Her father used to work in the Ministry, I think in the Office of Magical Games and Sports.” “That’s her. Mum, this was so good,” Ginny went on before anyone could ask another question about Elspeth. She got up and went to her mother and put her arms around her. “It’s so good to be home again.” Later in the evening, Ginny sat on the hearth, gazing into the fireplace, her arms around her knees. Most of the others had gone to bed; only Remus and Tonks lingered. Ginny rocked back and forth, feeling the warmth of the flames. Tonks came and sat next to her. “It’s good to see you like this,” she said. “The last time I saw you, we were taking Harry back to Hogwarts after he fell off his broom.” Ginny looked up in surprise. “Do I really look good? I guess coming home makes up for lots of other things.” Tonks stroked Ginny’s hair; the firelight reflected in it like embedded embers. “You’ll be fine.” Ginny squeezed Tonks’s hand. “It’s just so good to be here. The last couple of weeks were awful, and today... everything that happened today was worse. But right now everything is perfect.” She smiled. Ginny slept late the next morning, and the sun was well up and hidden behind the mist when she got out of bed. She told herself that tomorrow she would wake up early and watch it rise. Her trunk and the cage of Pygmy Puffs were in her room. When she got dressed, she put on her dragon—hide boots just for the pleasure of it. The rest of the day was filled with good food and good company. Nobody talked to her about Harry, but she knew that they were discussing him when she was not around. Whispered conversations stopped when she entered a room, and everyone immediately began talking about the dementors mist, or Ministry politics, or the falling exchange rate for Galleons that the war was causing. But there had been no word yet of Harry or Ron or Hermione, and Ginny saw that the others, especially her parents, were very worried. The next day was Christmas Eve. Ginny did wake up early, and she watched the sunrise from her window. The twins brought in a Christmas tree they had magically felled in the woods nearby, and everyone joined in the decorating. But Ginny began to think about last Christmas, when she had started to wonder if Harry was becoming interested in her. She felt herself slipping into a worse mood. Finally, in the middle of the afternoon, she quit the tree trimming party and went up to her room. She had just sat down on her bed with a Pygmy Puff in her hand, when she heard the pop of someone Apparating. She looked out the window and saw Alastor Moody limping to the door. Her heart began to pound with fear. She heard loud voices. Someone came to the bottom of the stairs. “Ginny!” her mother called. “Come here! Quickly!” She ran to the door, flung it open, and rushed downstairs. Everyone was in the kitchen, and the room fell silent when she appeared on the stairs. Mad—Eye stood next to her mother; his magical eye followed her as she came down. He walked over to her, his artificial leg clunking on the wooden floor. Ginny held onto the newel post and looked fearfully into his scarred, disfigured face. “Is it Harry?” She could barely speak. He nodded. “He’s hurt, but he’ll be here soon. Your brother and Granger, too. They’re all right.” “How– how badly?” Ginny’s voice trembled. “Well, they got him, but not as bad as they got me once.” He touched the part of his nose that was missing. “He got surprised by a planted jinx. But, he had a message. He asked me to tell it to you.” Ginny was shaking. Tonks, who was standing next to her, held her arm. “What did he want to tell me?” Moody looked around. “He wanted me to say it in front of your family.” He turned back to Ginny. “Is that all right with you, Miss Weasley?” “Of course. Please, tell me!” Mad—Eye cleared his throat. His face turned uncharacteristically pink and his eye whirled like a top; his growl became even gruffer. “Harry Potter said, ‘We could have had ages... months... years. And we will when I come home.’” |
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