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Obsession
By Roxy

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Genres: General
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 3
Summary: After losing a dear friend and mentor, Harry Potter throws himself into his task. Can his friends pull him from his obsessive behaviors before he makes himself sick?
Hitcount: Story Total: 4009





Author's Notes:
This is all JKR's idea. She's responsible for the seed that was planted in my head for this little story.

Please review and let me know what you think of it!! Merci beaucoup!!! *Roxy*




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Obsession


After losing a dear friend and mentor, Harry Potter throws himself into his task. Can his friends pull him from his obsessive behaviors before he makes himself sick?




Harry Potter stood in the library of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stretching his arms above his head. His back was aching after sitting for so long. He had been in the same chair, in the same position, reading the same text, for the past five hours. He had even skipped dinner down in the Great Hall, telling his friends that he was too close and he couldn’t stop now. Besides, he wasn’t hungry.

He sat back down heavily, picking up a history text. Hogwarts, A History, was emblazoned across the front of the leather cover in gold lettering. He knew Hermione had read this book at least twice, but he knew there had to be something here. There was something hidden that would tell him about Rowena Ravenclaw. Another text sat open in the middle of the table, along with scattered rolls of parchment with his untidy scribble covering both sides and some worn down quills and nearly empty ink bottles.

This task Professor Dumbledore had set forth for him was the last thing his late mentor asked him to do. He had to get it done. He was ready for a life all his own. He was sick of living under the shadow of someday being killed.

Voldemort was becoming bolder as the days progressed. Muggle killings, Ministry officials turning up dead in their homes, even Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister for Magic had been assassinated outside the Ministry two weeks prior by Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. The Ministry was in utter panic mode. People were scared to go into work, so most called in sick. Mr. Weasley still went in every day and Harry was terrified that he’d be next.

He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses and checked the old, dusty text in front of him, placing Hogwarts, A History aside. Rowena Ravenclaw’s lineage just seemed to stop a hundred years after the founding of Hogwarts. It was almost like her family was killed off. Rowena married Wilmort Hufflepuff, Helga Hufflepuff’s older brother. They had four children, two girls, Rawna and Meridia and two boys, William and Helford. The four of them married and had children, at least two each, then their children had children and the line stopped. Just stopped. It seemed incomplete. Something was wrong. What happened? The great-grandchildren had all died at ripe old ages, the youngest being 101 years old on the day of her death. Had none of them married?

He stood up. This was getting him nowhere. “Madame Pince, are there any books on family trees? Genealogy?”

“Whatever do you need that for?”

“I’m researching the founders for an extra credit project,” he lied with ease. Sometimes he felt bad about it, but Professor Dumbledore gave him specific orders not to reveal what he was doing with anyone besides Ron and Hermione. He couldn’t even go to Professor Slughorn again. He was even holding out on Ginny, and thankfully, she wasn’t mad. She was letting him do what he needed to do. He was extremely thankful for her silent support. She never asked anything of him, just let him work on destroying Voldemort. His vow to her at the end of sixth year was pretty much null and void. He loved her more now that they weren’t dating than he did when they were. He wanted her; he wanted to kiss her and hold her, sit in the Common Room and just worry about making her happy, but he couldn’t. Not yet. His life was not yet his own. It wasn’t fair to her to drag her into it. He was glad she was being so cooperative. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she started making demands to know what was going on. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he had specific orders.

“Did you hear me, Mr. Potter?” Madame Pince was glaring at him, her face held a look of pure annoyance.

“Er… sorry. What?”

“I said the Ministry holds records of all of that. They don’t release it to be published in case it should fall into the wrong hands.”

“Oh, er, is there a way I could get some? It’s really important that I get this all right.” He nervously moved his weight to his other foot under her gaze. She had never really liked him much; although he did find out from Remus that his mother had been one of her all-time favourite students.

“You’d have to speak to the headmistress about that. They won’t release official records to a student.” She turned and returned to her desk, sorting the books she had just lifted from the table behind him that some fifth years had left.

He sighed heavily. Professor McGonagall wasn’t being very cooperative in his search for the Horcruxes. She was actually pretty angry at him for not disclosing where he and Professor Dumbledore had been that afternoon he died. That combined with the fact that he had yet to tell her what all this research into Gryffindor and Ravenclaw was specifically for, was making her more irritated by the day with him. The new head of house for Gryffindor, Professor Vector, the Arithmancy professor, was in the same circle as Professor McGonagall when it came to his research. He’d already been assigned detention four times in the past month for his being out of the Common Room after curfew, returning from the library or the Room of Requirement.

Gathering the books he had, he left the library. It was fifteen to nine, so he had some time to get to the Common Room before he got sentenced to another detention with Filch.

“Harry!”

He turned around to the sound of the voice, unable to muster a smile. He was frustrated and being stopped like this was just making him even more annoyed.

Ginny Weasley was making her way to him, having left the library behind him. He hadn’t even seen her there. “Hey,” she breathed, pulling a book tighter to her chest. “What’s up? We missed you at dinner.”

“Yeah, I had something I had to do,” he replied vaguely, his chest feeling a bit lighter knowing it was her and not Hermione or one of the various fourth years that wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just a little frustrated. I’ve hit another dead end.” That was as far as he had ever gone with her, and she respected his decision to not disclose anything further.

Tonight, however, she continued, “Is there anything I can help with? You know I’d love to help.”

“Unless you know how to get official documents from the Ministry, then there’s really nothing you can do.” He had disclosed that much information to Madame Pince, why not Ginny as well?

“Hippogriff,” she said to the portrait of the Fat Lady. The picture swung open and he followed her into the Common Room. “Well, have you tried going through my dad? Or maybe Tonks?”

“I didn’t think of them, thanks.” He smiled his first true smile in a couple of days and sat down at the table in the corner of the Common Room across from Ron and Hermione.

Hermione had her head down, scratching furiously over a piece of parchment, her Ancient Runes text in front of her. Ron was slouching in his chair, reading through Quidditch through the Ages for the hundredth time since he started Hogwarts. “Hey,” Harry interrupted, tossing his bag onto the table. Ginny took the last available seat and pulled out her Charms book and a piece of parchment that was half written on.

“Hey, find anything?” Hermione asked, looking up from her essay.

“No, but I need to owl Mr. Weasley. Madame Pince said official lineages are kept pretty much under lock and key at the Ministry. They won’t release it to students and I doubt Professor McGonagall would help any. She’s still pretty peeved with me.”

“What’d you do now?” Ginny asked with a smirk.

“The same. She asked questions I couldn’t answer.” He thought he saw Ginny’s smile fade, but she was right back to working on her essay.

“Well, my dad would help. No questions asked,” Ron supplied.

“Harry, when was the last time you ate anything? A decent meal?” Hermione asked, her essay forgotten. This was her new favourite thing to do and it annoyed him.

“I’ve been busy,” he replied vaguely. He knew she would just ask again. This time more forcefully.

“I’m serious, Harry.”

“I ate this morning, before you two got up.”

“And you slept last night?” Ron asked. He was well aware that Harry hadn’t been in the dorm when he went to bed and he wasn’t there when he woke up. Lately, that meant he had been up in the Common Room all night, reading ancient texts on Gryffindor. Only today had he changed gears and started focusing on Ravenclaw. And that change wasn’t his idea. Hermione had taken every book he had concerning Gryffindor, the ones he had read at least twice from cover to cover since returning to Hogwarts two weeks ago, and stored them in her dorm room.

Harry diverted his gaze and pulled out the book on Ravenclaw’s history, not answering the question. He felt all three of their eyes on him, but he ignored it, instead continuing reading after the diagram of her family tree.

“Harry, you’ve got to stop. Or at least slow down. Professor Flitwick and McGonagall have been on me to get you to do your work. I’ve been trying, but you blow up at me every time. You’re failing all your classes except Defense and only because we haven’t been given any essays to write. You won’t even let us help you anymore. Professor Dumbledo-“

He cut off Hermione. “Professor Dumbledore wanted me to get this finished and that’s what I’m doing. I’m sick of living this way. I don’t care about classes. I don’t care about eating or sleeping. I need to finish this once and for all. You know what I have to do! Just leave me be and stop nagging.”

“Harry, stop being a git! Hermione’s just trying to help you,” Ginny scolded, glaring at him. She looked like she was about to hex him into the next century.

He shoved the book back into his bag, slung it over his shoulder and stormed out of the Common Room, slamming the portrait behind him.

Now, he was furious. He had stuff he needed to do, damn it, and they weren’t helping one bit! They knew how important finding the Horcruxes was! They knew his fate! They knew he was sick of living with a big red target painted over his chest! He paced angrily in front of the Room of Requirement and slammed the door behind him.

He sat heavily down onto the couch in front of the blazing fire, rubbing his eyes again. He was exhausted. He actually hadn’t slept regularly all summer. The destruction at Godric’s Hollow was more than he could handle. His parents’ bodies were never recovered from the rubble, and it killed him to think that they were there somewhere, but that no one had ever found them after Hagrid had taken him from the home. Remus had said that the house collapsed in on itself before the Ministry officials arrived. They spent two weeks scouring the debris looking for their remains, but had turned up empty handed.

After seeing the destruction, he threw himself into his work. He needed to find the Horcruxes and he needed to end this once and for all. He owed his parents that much. He owed Sirius and Cedric. He owed all the Muggles and Ministry officials. He owed his friends and adopted family. He needed to rid the world of the most powerful Dark Lord they had ever seen.

Mrs. Weasley would be furious over how much he had let himself go. He was as skinny as he had been before he joined them every summer. His eyes were lined in dark smudges from his lack of sleep. Whenever he did sleep, pictures of Godric’s Hollow and Professor Dumbledore falling would invade his dreams, waking him way before dawn, reminding him he needed to work. He would read the history books of Gryffindor until his eyes crossed.

He looked around the Room of Requirement. He couldn’t even remember what he had needed when he paced in front of it. There was a bookshelf against the wall beside him. The sofa he was sitting at reminded him of one of the overstuffed ones in the Common Room and it was placed in front of the warm fire. A small table, surrounded with chairs was set up behind him, a couple of books lying on top.

Standing up, he walked over to the table, curious as to what books the room thought he needed. The Heir of Gryffindor by Randy Bugtrow, was at the top of the stack. He screwed up his face, remembering if he had read this tome. He didn’t think he had, but he wasn’t too sure. The next one, Ravenclaw: Past, Present, and Future, he knew he hadn’t even seen in the library. He picked it up and began flipping through the pages, his eyes lighting up in excitement at the thought of being able to track down someone that was related to the famous founder. The book had a lot more genealogy than the one he had already begun reading.

A plate of biscuits appeared at his elbow when he sat down to start reading. He didn’t even hear the door open or his friends come in.

“Harry, we need to talk,” Hermione spoke quietly, startling him.

He looked up from his book. Hermione was timidly walking to the table, followed by Ron and Ginny. Not another intervention, he groaned inwardly. They took a seat at the remaining chairs at the table, Ron immediately grabbing for the biscuits.

“Exactly what I wanted!” He shoved one in his mouth and Harry realized that they appeared because Ron had wanted them. He hadn’t even thought about food.

Hermione glared at Ron before her eyes softened when she looked at Harry. “I’m sorry for what happened up there,” she apologized quietly. “I’m really worried for you, Harry. We all are.”

“I’m fine, Hermione.” He could feel the heat of anger creeping up his neck.

“You’re not fine,” Ginny interjected. “You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping, and you’re snapping at us at every turn, you spend most of your time in the library or in here, you skive off your classes. Yes, I know you’re not going to classes,” she reprimanded, seeing him open his mouth to retort.

“You don’t understand, Ginny,” he replied hotly, forcing himself to stay in his seat.

“Then make me understand. I’m not going to let you continue to do this to yourself, Harry, without you telling me what’s going on. At the rate you’re going, you won’t survive to beat Voldemort.”

He froze, his eyes locked on her, his insides feeling like they were full of lead. She knows about the Prophesy? “Wh-what?”

“I’m not letting you do this to yourself,” she repeated. “Tell me what’s going on so I can understand. I’ve been extremely faithful to you, but you’ve been snapping at me anyway, and I’m sick of being at the end of your temper tantrums without knowing what’s going on.”

“I can’t tell you,” he replied, diverting his eyes to the table.

“Tell me. I’m not going to tell anyone. No one will know that I know your secret. You know me. You know I’d never do anything to sell you out.”

He looked to Hermione and Ron. Hermione nodded and Ron shrugged. Usually, he would have never given permission for his little sister to be a part of this, but something had changed between the two recently. He no longer tried to be over-protective with her.

He sighed. Even though Ron didn’t care, he still did. He wanted to keep her out of the center where he, Ron, and Hermione were.

“Tell me,” she prodded, reaching across and lifting his chin with her finger.

“I have to kill Voldemort,” he sighed.

“Well I knew that. If you don’t, then who will? Dumbledore’s not around any more.”

“Ginny, shut it and let him finish,” Ron griped, grabbing for the Butterbeer that appeared.

“The Prophesy, the one in the Ministry that broke, says I have a power he doesn’t know about and I’m the only that either has to kill him or be killed. Basically, I’m his equal. Dumbledore and Slughorn told me that he made Horcruxes… they’re things that contain a part of Voldemort’s soul, and I’ve got to destroy all of them before I can kill him. Thing is, I have no clue where they are, or even what they are. I found the locket, but I don’t know how to destroy it.” His eyes were once again looking down at the table, rather than at her, so he never noticed the shocked look that came over her face.

“H-how many are there?”

“He made seven. It’s a magical number, a powerful one, according to Professor Vector. The diary was one, a ring-“

“The diary? You mean the diary?” He looked up, seeing the horror etched in her face. He just wanted to take back all the information he was giving her and not have her worried about anything like this. He didn’t want her involved. His mouth thought otherwise.

“Yeah, that one.”

“Sorry, what are the others?”

“A ring that belonged to his father, Dumbledore destroyed that one. There’s Slytherin’s locket, I’ve got that tucked away safely. Hufflepuff has a cup that was stolen from an old witch. We think there’s something of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw floating around somewhere and he’s gotten those as well. Then possibly Nagini, she’s been with him since he was hiding in Albania, before he came back. Then, I can go after him.”

“Wow,” she whispered. Her eyes were sparkling in the dim light. Tears? He wasn’t sure. “And you’re researching the lineage of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw to find their last relatives?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for telling me,” she whispered.

“What have you found, Harry?” Hermione spoke, reminding him that she and Ron were still there.

He had been so focused on Ginny that it was easy for him to forget. He shook his head. “Er… nothing really, so far. Gryffindor’s line is really sketchy; none of the books really know for sure where it goes. Ravenclaw’s just stops after her great-grandchildren. I found these books in here,” he said lifting the tomes to show them the titles. “I think they might prove to be more helpful than the books I have.”

Hermione took a book from him, the Gryffindor tome, and began skimming through the pages. Watching her and Ginny take over, made him feel better about it all. It was hard keeping everything from Ginny, especially since whenever she was around, he couldn’t help but blurt out everything going on with him. She had a weird effect on him that just made him want to unload all of his problems onto her and let her help him to cope. She was great at making him feel better about the world in general. He no longer felt bad about letting her in. She was one of them now. After the ordeal with the Death Eaters last year, she was a part of their group.

A plate of steaming steak and kidney pie, mashed potatoes, and corn, and another with treacle tart, appeared in front of him. Ginny looked up from the book with a sly grin. Conceding to her silent request, he began eating. Ron had taken the Ravenclaw book from him, leaving him with nothing else to do. He was thankful for his friends.

An hour later, after checking the Marauder’s map, they snuck out of the Room of Requirement and headed back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

“No more skipping meals, classes, and sleep,” Ginny whispered. “Hippogriff.”

They climbed through the portrait hole and Ginny pushed him up the staircase to the boys’ dorm behind Ron. “Ron, make sure he goes to sleep before you do,” she whispered while Harry was in the restroom changing into his pajamas.

After getting confirmation from her brother, Ginny walked back downstairs, feeling jubilant. Harry was sharing things with her again! Sure, everything was a shock, but she wasn’t going to let him take this on alone as he had been trying to do.

Harry went to bed that night, without dreams. He felt like the weight of the world was lifted from his chest. He felt like he could breathe peacefully. Letting them in more had made him feel better, more confident about what he needed to do.
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