SIYE Time:14:46 on 12th July 2024
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Weary Hearts and Happy Thoughts
By Dianne

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Category: Peter Pan Challenge (2007-4)
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 7
Summary: ** Winner of Best Adventure in the Peter Pan Challenge **
Sometimes you shouldn’t study straight on ‘til morning … Ginny knew she had to study for her OWLS. She also knew somehow that it would be only a matter of time before Harry’s saving people thing would kick in and he would leave. Talk about stress!
Hitcount: Story Total: 4381

Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.

Author's Notes:
Thanks to Kjpzak for beta reading this for me. I couldn't have written this one without her! As always I ask for respect when reviewing, just as I give when I review for others ... and lead you not into temptation to be mean when reviewing blah blah blah blah. Heee! I couldn't resist that one!


Ginny Weasley grew up listening to fairy tales from the wizarding world. She was, therefore, unimpressed by tales such as Cinderella or Snow White, especially the Disney versions she was currently studying in Muggle Studies. After all, how could the Muggle, fair skinned, raven haired beauty ever stack up against the likes of The Fire Witch or Little Red Vanishing Hood? But there was one story that did catch her attention; it was the tale of an orphan named Peter.

Clutched under Ginny’s arm was an old, cloth-covered copy of the story Peter Pan. Of course, Ginny had heard bits and pieces of the real version of the story, not the watered down version she now had to study. Muggles always thought to polish up the news to make things go happily ever after. They didn’t even really pay attention to what their own nursery rhymes meant for Merlin’s sake. Ring around the rosy … Ginny began in her mind, shivering, wondering why Muggles would ever teach such a horrible poem to children. With a scowl on her face, Ginny wondered whether Peter in the Muggle book ever married a princess, or his best friend’s sister, or even a friend. Or did he die, like in the real life account, at the hands of an evil sorcerer in 1882?

Ginny looked down the corridors ensuring that no one was around. She chose her words carefully in order to make the most of her study time. “I need a place to compare the real historical accounts of Peter Panning to the Muggle storybook version of Peter Pan,” she said firmly, watching for the door to the mysterious Room of Requirement to appear.

Inside the room were several large stacks of ancient, yellowed copies of the Daily Prophet, a bent bow and several arrows, and a wizarding wireless set. There were three beds, all with canopies. A breeze blew into the room from a window that looked out over a city of factory smoke stacks and brick houses. Tiny little plumes of smoke issued from soot covered chimneys. Smiling and feeling slightly better about having to study on a Saturday night, Ginny puffed up the pillows on the bed with the pink cotton blankets.

The yellowed Daily Prophet crumbled slightly at her touch, but Ginny could still make out the faded print. Panning, found dead from the newly created Avada Kadavra curse, boys with him feared lost. “Lost boys,” Ginny muttered aloud. She’d known a little bit about the Magical World’s account since she’d been four years old and it never bothered her until she’d met him. Harry, another orphan. Well, the Muggles had spared the Little Mermaid’s life in their version of Tales from the Merpeople, so perhaps, Ginny thought, she wouldn’t be sobbing at the end of the Muggle Peter Pan story. Or would she?

Ginny felt foolish as she picked up the children’s book. She wanted to flip to the back page to see what happened. Did Peter, Harry, survive? “This is ridiculous,” Ginny said, opening the first page to see such lovely pictures. Once upon a time …

By the time she read to the bottom of page four, Ginny was engrossed in the story. The room grew colder as the night sky darkened and she looked around for something warm to wrap around her shoulders. A white cotton eyelet nightdress with a small bonnet lay on a cedar chest at the foot of the bed that she had not seen when she first entered the room. It was a beautiful garment, not something she’d ever be caught dead in at the Burrow or in the common room, but here, it seemed to fit, and it did fit, perfectly. She looked into a mirror with words carved at the top that she could not decipher. Turning away from it, she rubbed her eyes, knowing that she should have listened when even Hermione Granger told her that she was studying too much. She had imagined Harry standing beside her in the mirror, dressed in green, hair ruffled as always, reaching for her hand and looking toward the window. Right then, back to study and off to bed in an hour, she thought as she stifled a yawn, not being able to resist a small spin to watch the beautiful nightdress flare around her ankles. Knowing she was acting very unlike her usual tomboyish self, she flopped ungainly back onto the bed.

Being the youngest in her family, Ginny always wondered what having younger siblings would have been like. She glanced over the top of the book to look at the empty beds across from the one she rested upon. There were now two small lumps under the covers. This room was really amazing. Even now, Ginny was curious as to whether the room had provided house elves to stir now and again and even snore to make things more real.

The difference in print size between the Daily Prophet account, which was becoming rather unsettling, and the beautifully embellished words on the glaringly white pages of the book made Ginny’s eyes itch and water. A single tear fell from her eye as she learned more details than she had been told as a child about the real Panning. Just fatigue, she told herself stoically as she imagined the horror of the Dementors, spurred on by the evil sorcerer, descending upon Panning and the boys who were with him. The newspaper said that Panning was able to produce a faded Patronus, but still, some of the boys were swept upon, their mouths tilted upwards and they were … lost. Forever.

Page twelve “Just think a lovely, wonderful thought and you’ll fly,” Peter in the Muggle story instructed Wendy, Michael and John, while in the Prophet’s account, Panning screamed for his friends to think a happy thought and repel the Dementors. Wendy, Michael and John flew out the window toward the second star on the right and straight on ‘til morning, while three of Panning’s friends fell to the Dementor’s kiss. Ginny knew it would be better to read one account at a time, but she was so tired that she just wanted to get through her comparative homework for Muggle Studies and go to bed.

Bed, this one feels so comfortable, maybe just five minutes … then straight back to Neverland …

Ginny could not see the familiar outline of Hogwarts in amongst the smokestacks from this height as she flew out of the window holding hands with … Harry! She let go of his hand in shock.

“Wendy!” shouted Harry, as he dipped to catch her hand before she plummeted to the rooftops. Ginny’s heart raced. Perhaps her thoughts had not been so happy after all.

“Harry! What’s going on,” she yelled above the rush of air as they ascended once more.

“I just went into the Room of Requirement to do some studying and the house elves in the beds turned into kids. I couldn’t close the window and … Sirius came bounding up the steps in Animagus form with a collar and he was wearing a …,” Ginny lowered her voice, “a bonnet and tag that said Nana on it. He didn’t seem to want us to leave. He kept barking and growling and my mum and dad must have had a meeting or something because they had just come into the room, and I don’t know how any of them knew I was in the Room of Requirement …”

“Is Harry your brother?” Harry asked, turning his eyes, which were the same colour as the green outfit he was wearing, to her.

“Very funny,” Ginny retorted.

“I think we shall give you some medicine when we get to Neverland, Wendy,” said Harry. “I don’t think you’re quite used to flying yet. Your brothers, though, are very good at it.”

“Of course they’re good at flying. Got better brooms than I have, haven’t they?” Ginny muttered before she could stop herself. At the look of utter puzzlement on Harry’s face, Ginny stopped speaking, more concerned about how they were flying without brooms than anything else at the moment.

“How exactly are we staying up here?” Ginny asked. Levitation was possible with much practice, but flying outright without any devices such as brooms or illegal flying carpets was something she had never heard of. Until today.

“Why fairy dust of course, Lady Wendy,” offered Harry by way of explanation, now letting go of Ginny’s hand since she was quite steady. He rested lazily on his back. The wind pushed his mess of black hair down flat for the first time in his life. He wore no glasses and his eyes were bright and young, as though he had not a care in the world. Ginny liked this look. Harry pretty much seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders these days. Ginny would play along, just for Harry, of course. Wendy it is.

A squeal caught Ginny’s attention as countryside left the city scene behind. She looked up and watched her two younger brothers soaring along gleefully and talking excitedly about finally seeing a real sailing ship that was moored in a lake much like the one at Hogwarts. Of course, if these were her real brothers, they’d have seen what was clearly the Durmstrang ship during the Tri Wizard Tournament. When the smallest boy Harry had called Michael turned around, Ginny’s mouth fell open. It was little Percy who played children’s games in an old wooden photo frame at home. Percy, now a stuck-up, arrogant git in real life, was here, going back to his childhood willingly. Wishing for more speed, Ginny asked Harry, who wouldn’t answer until she called him Peter, how she could catch up to the older of the two boys, John. “Make your thoughts even happier,” was the simple reply.

Blushing, Ginny dreamed of kissing Harry, and just then, she felt something drop from nowhere into her hand. It was a simple black button. Harry smiled at her, his lips perfect and full and red. She drifted so high that in only seconds, she was looking down upon them. John, as it turned out, was Bill as a child, unflawed by the gruesome werewolf attack that had left him disfigured. Ginny couldn’t help but stare at the smiling face and the perfect skin that Mrs Weasley still wept over, remembering what a handsome child Bill had been. Looking into Bill’s youthful eyes confirmed for Ginny that though his face was now, in reality, rather grotesque, his eyes were the same as they had been all along. A sense of pride filled her. Bill never let the attack change who he was.

A light flickered that Ginny supposed was a star until it flew into Harry’s pocket. The light seemed to look up at her, giving her an uncomfortable feeling. She heard a noise that sounded like pfbtt! A tiny, rather snotty mist blew into Ginny’s face, and as she wiped it away, she felt the button lifted from her pocket. As she groped for the button, she felt herself sinking and saw Cho Chang in miniature fluttering away like a Golden Snitch.

“Peter!” Ginny called, having no time to be reminded that he was not Harry and no patience for it either at the moment, “who was that?”

“That was Tinkerbell, Lady Wendy,” Harry told her, as if she should have known that.

“Well, she stole my kiss … er … my button,” Ginny protested, and as soon as the words left her mouth, she knew how childish they were. Harry just smiled at her, but at that moment, they had more pressing things to be worried about than just a mere missing button. The Durmstrang ship began to fire on them.

Ginny heard the Durmstrang school song, but the words had changed. She squinted at the ship. Viktor Krum came up on deck, a patch over one eye and an owl on his shoulder. Wait … shouldn’t that be a parrot? Ginny thought as she realized that she no longer had her books to refer to. Magical and Muggle worlds were melting together.

Krum put a looking glass to his eye and yelled reports to cabins below. “Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me!”

“It’s the Jolly Roger, boys! I see Mr. Smee on deck,” shouted Harry.

Ginny pulled out her wand and was disgusted to see that it now resembled the wands from the fairy stories she had seen in Muggle Studies. No longer a sleek, smooth piece of wood, but a silly, glitter covered, star topped thing. Still, she had to try something so she aimed the ghastly thing at her throat to amplify her voice.

Aqua Plummet!” Ginny shouted and Smee was momentarily knocked off his feet by a small waterspout that broke over the deck from her spell. As Smee regained his footing, Ginny saw six little figures coming out of the woods surrounding the lake. Her eyes grew wide as one of the pirates kicked Smee aside and aimed the canon toward her brothers. A Bludger shot out with much fire and smoke, almost obliterating the ship from Ginny’s view.

“Reducto!” Ginny yelled, her eyes watering from the smoke. The Bludger blew apart, raining down in harmless specks the size of sand pebbles upon her brothers.

As Ginny coughed out a bit of smoke and rubbed her eyes, she barely made out the tiny Snitch-like figure that looked so much like Cho Chang but that Harry had insisted was someone called Tinkerbell. The tiny light flew near the ear of one of the boys, and the next thing Ginny knew, she had been pierced in the chest with an arrow.

Ginny looked toward Harry and her brothers far above her as she fell unnoticed. They were beating off Bludgers happily with bats as if it was a game of cricket she had also learned about in Muggle Studies. One of the Bludgers found its way back to the ship and splintered the deck just as Harry shouted, “Captain Hooknose! Fly!” Harry was suddenly frantic with fear.

Meanwhile, at the edge of the lake, away from the battle, six smudged and dirty little boys crowded around the beautiful girl with the flaming red hair and white gown. They had first been congratulating each other on the kill and talking about how proud Peter would be of them. But after looking upon her, their hearts grew heavy.

“We’ve killed Cinderella,” a chubby little boy with freckles whispered. He pulled his hat down low over his eyes as if he couldn’t bear the sight. No doubt, Peter had been telling them about Cinderella in instalments as often as he could find a window ledge upon which to sit to hear another chapter of the fascinating tale.

“Yes, Tootles, she is dead and I think Peter shall be very angry with us,” said a small black boy called Curly, shaking soot from the canon fallout from his hair. “But I don’t think this is your arrow, is it?” Curly held out the small arrow that he had pulled from Ginny’s chest. A blonde, pale boy called Slightly stepped up accusingly and confirmed that the arrow was indeed Tootles’.

“You wait ‘til Peter hears about this,” Slightly said with relish apparent on his proud, pointed face. “He’ll kill you where you stand. He may even let me do it.”

Two twin little boys with red hair studied Ginny’s prone form. They scratched their heads with slight recognition but the clear inability to remember why this lady was familiar to them. They were rascals, one of them wearing a dunce cap proudly upon his head as if it were a crown. “Don’t worry, Tootles,” both of them told Tootles at once. “Just take this Peruvian Instant Blindness Powder and Peter will think you hit her by accident. He might not kill you then.” Tootles didn’t seem impressed.

“No, I have to tell Peter the truth,” said Tootles. “I thought we were the good guys.” Tootles glared at Tinkerbell who merely stuck her tongue out at him and folded her arms defiantly across her chest.

While waiting for Peter to return from battle, the Lost Boys built a quaint little house out of leaves and sticks and placed Ginny’s body gently inside, her pale arms folded across her chest as if in sleep. Peter landed shortly after their task was done with Ginny’s brothers. He was furious.

Barely fitting through the entrance of the quaint little house, Peter lifted his Wendy’s head in his trembling hands. A single tear fell upon her chest and was absorbed by the white cotton. There was no blood. Fingers now trembling for a very different reason, Peter ordered his Lost Boys to turn around as he ran his hands over the area in which there was a tiny but distinct hole in the delicate material. She was warm to the touch. Something under her gown worked its way into Peter’s fingers and he extracted it through the hole in the gown. It was the most magnificent thing Peter had ever seen: silver, and very much like a cup the size of which a fairy would drink from, covered in bumps and very delicate. It was a hug.

Ginny stirred, waking up, mumbling, “I’m not Wendy.” Harry jumped back and the thimble fell to the earthen floor. Ginny picked it up just as Harry’s hands reached for it, too. She blushed, handing it to him. “I saw you admiring it,” she explained. He turned the shiny object over in his fingers and she grasped his hand and placed it on his finger.

“I’ll never take it off,” Harry told her.

Yes you will, thought Ginny, I can feel it every time danger is near.Even with this surety that Harry would one day leave, Ginny enjoyed the moments she did have with him, especially these ones where a simple hug could make things right.

A commotion interrupted the hug exchange and Harry stepped outside. Tootles stepped forward and told him the truth, despite the twins’ suggestions that he lie and say he was aiming for one of the Bludgers that had been heading straight for the fair maiden. Peter placed his hands on Tootles’ shoulders, telling him that it took a great deal of courage to stand up to his enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to his friends.

Peter then looked toward his tiny friend, who cowered in her little house, quickly shutting the curtains as he approached. He marched up to Tinkerbell’s door and rapped loudly on it with the claw of a raven, which was her doorknocker.

Never was there such an argument between such fast friends. Never were feelings more hurt. Tinkerbell was banished for a week from the Lost Boys’ camp. Shoulders slumped, she flew away, no longer glinting in the sun like an elusive Snitch. Ginny didn’t feel sorry to see her go.

Harry was eager to show his Wendy lady around his home. He took her by the hand to the lake where they fed the giant squid pumpkin pastilles. When Ginny asked what the ticking noise was that she heard each time the squid surfaced to eat, she was told that the squid had swallowed a very special clock once upon a time and also the hand of the pirate called Captain Hooknose who hunted it.

Captain Hooknose blamed his fortunes on Peter Pan. He was often heard lamenting that the world called Neverland was like the Bermuda Triangle. He could never quite reach his desired destiny and always ended up in a place called Eventu Alley, a shallow, weather-beaten place where he was reminded daily that he would never be an Admiral. Each time he dreamed of leaving Eventu Alley, he would end up back in Neverland battling with Peter.

As Harry explained the life of Hooknose, Ginny tried to remind him that the Bermuda Triangle was simply a wizarding resort area that was hidden from Muggles, and if any Muggles happened upon it, they were never seen again because once there, they never wanted to leave.

“Well, I never want to leave this place,” Harry said. Ginny could understand why right up until something smacked her squarely in the face.

Shaking the water out of her hair as Harry watched in absolute admiration, Ginny asked, “What was that?”

“Oh, that was just a mermaid,” smiled Harry.

“We have merpeople at …” Ginny began, but she couldn’t seem to remember where she and her brothers were from. There was a spell, an enchantment about this place that caused her brain to fog. She vaguely remembered towers on a castle high in the air but they seemed so very far away. I’m supposed to be studying something. The sound of canon fire started up again putting everything but safety out her mind at that moment.

“Lady Wendy, please go and read to the children. I can handle Captain Hooknose and still be home in time for whatever dinner you make for us,” declared Harry.

That did it. Well, did enough to bring Ginny around enough to know that she was no one’s domestic goddess.

“I’m no cook!” Hands on her hips, Lady Wendy no where to be seen, Ginny Weasley stood, aimed her ridiculous looking fairy wand at herself and sheared off the white night dress to knee length so she could run unfettered to fight beside Harry. Together they tore off around the lake edge to find the Lost Boys defending themselves from terrible attack.

Nibs, a very tall red headed Lost Boy was duelling Mr. Smee. And that’s when it dawned on Ginny who Nibs was. Nibs was Ron and he was battling Smee pirate tooth and nail. Figures, even here in Neverland, Ron can’t get over old Vicki dancing with Hermione.

Ginny aimed her wand at a pirate who was approaching Tootles with a dagger in his hand. If anyone found Ginny’s weapon unusual, no one said anything. Storybook princesses always carried shiny wands, she supposed.

Suddenly from the lake came a cry so gut wrenching, so pitiful, that it stopped both pirates and Lost Boys in their tracks. The giant squid lay on the top of the surface of the mossy water, thick ink spilling from a hole in his large underbelly. Captain Hooknose held a large clock in his ink covered hands, staring at Peter and fiddling with the hands of the clock as the squid continued to bellow.

“NO!!” Peter screamed as the giant squid began to slip beneath the surface, its blood making plumes of ink swirl in the water. As the squid rolled onto its back, the sword sticking in its underbelly broke the surface and stood straight up for a moment. The giant tentacles slackened all around the squid as it went down for the last time.

“Wendy! Tinkerbell! Help my squid!” Peter yelled.

But there was no Tinkerbell. Peter had banished the little Snitch. There was only Ginny. What do you want me to do, kiss it and make it all better? she thought desperately. She wasn’t the Care of Magical Creatures teacher! Gathering her courage and trying to ignore the pools of muck mixed with water, Ginny dove into the inky depths and swam with all her might toward the squid.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” she yelled, and though no words actually issued from her mouth that would have been decipherable to human ears, the squid rose gently from the water. Ginny finally surfaced, gasping for breath as her lungs expanded again painfully.

The twins disengaged themselves from battle with two simultaneous swipes of the swords that smote down two of Captain Hooknoses’ men. They grabbed a billowing sail from the ship, cutting it free from the tall mast and it fell across the giant squid, stopping the flow of ink for a few precious moments.

Peter approached Captain Hooknose defiantly, though when he chanced a glance at Ginny, she thought she saw a glimmer of fear on his face. The pirate was toying with hands of what was a very special clock, one that told not the time, but the location of those Harry loved and of those he feared. Peter had told Ginny the clock had been safely hidden within the squid’s stomach when it had swallowed it. All the hands had been in secure locations, their magic hidden for good. The Captain smiled, his long black coat billowing about his ankles.

“Tell me, Peter, what happens when you turn the clock’s hands backwards?” the black haired pirate drilled. “No answer? Pity. It seems youth isn’t everything.” Hooknose held up the clock with what used to be the stump at the end of a scarred wrist. Peter looked as though he might lose the contents of his stomach as he took in a perfectly formed silver hand glinting in the light from the torches that illuminated the battle that raged around them.

Ginny, still breathing hard from her rescue of the giant squid, knew this image of Hooknose was wrong. There was another Peter who had that silver hand. Where had Hooknose gotten it? He must have stolen it. Her brow furrowed in concentration. She tried to remember something. Hook … Hook. His hand is supposed to be a hook. Hooknose. As she shivered from her plunge into the lake, she recognized that face.

As Hooknose reached for the hand pointed at the photo on the clock labeled Wendy, Harry gave himself away. “No! Not Ginny!”

Ginny turned around after stuffing a flour sack over the head of a pirate who had snuck up on her while she had stared at Hooknose. Just as she’d been forgetting her former life again, she realized that Harry had known all along who she really was.

“Harry!” Ginny yelled and sure enough, he turned around, no who’s Harry? on his lips or his face any longer. Just fear.

Hooknose took this momentary distraction to act. His greasy black hair was released from its pony tale as his feather-plumed captain’s hat flew off in the wind. He raised a sword and charged toward Harry. Harry reacted just in time; a blow meant for his heart struck his shoulder instead, slicing into his flesh. He gasped as sweat rolled down his brow and changed sword hands.

Ginny raced toward Harry as fast as she could, but when she reached the gangplank, it was drawn up before she could climb aboard. Harry had barred her way from coming to his aid. The thimble flew from his hand as he had done so. I’ll never take it off …

A surprised cry of pain from somewhere to her left caused Ginny to turn. Tootles had fallen. His eyes were open but he did not move. There was nothing she could do for Tootles now. She had to reach Harry, whether he wanted help or not. Yes you will …

Ginny grabbed a rope. As she struggled to the side of the ship, she heard a victory cry as Krum, no longer Smee, but wearing Durmstrang fur, leapt to avenge Tootle’s death against his own side. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep perspective on three realties that were playing out at once. Ginny was tired. Confusion was swimming in her mind but Victor’s actions didn’t surprise her. He had been shunned by people because he had come from Durmstrang. He had done the right thing back then, and it seemed now was no different. The rope bit into Ginny’s small hands but she didn’t feel it.

As Hooknose and Harry dueled, Hooknose taunted Harry. “You have to learn to close off your open strike zones!” WHACK! The sword bit down on Harry’s other shoulder as he tried to defend himself. “You cannot hide here and pretend that you didn’t have a pathetic father who once tried to do the same thing when he found out the Dark Lord was coming for him. He was weak!”

“Shut up!” Harry yelled, clutching his forehead, and it was then Ginny realized she hadn’t even noticed that all the while Harry had called himself Peter, the scar had not been a feature on his face. As Harry grew paler, the scar grew more vivid and even to Ginny, things began to feel more real.

“You cannot hide from the Dark Lord Time! You must close your open strike zones to him!” Captain Hooknose raised his sword again, his clothes now black from top to bottom, his hatred of Harry the only cloak he needed. Snape! Ginny thought.

“I can’t!” Harry shouted. The skies opened up in a torrential downpour. Rain ran down his face and into his mouth.

The swords in Harry and Snape’s hands could suddenly perform spells as the magical world and Neverland merged to become a realm unto itself. Harry dove for the clock and snatched it just as Snape struck him hard across the cheek. Ginny watched Harry’s eyes go out of focus and he rocked on his heels, still fumbling with the hands of the clock in his now clumsy grip. Harry found Snape’s picture on the clock and turned the hands back quickly. Snape’s eyes grew wide and his head disappeared into his billowing cloak, emerging seconds later through the over large neck hole. The familiar, yet slightly smaller nose peaked out first.

“How dare you! Ten years from Gryffindor!” raged Snape in a cracking teenage voice, grabbing the clock from Harry’s feeble grip just as Ginny reached them.

Before Snape could aim the clock hand toward the lion symbol upon the face, Ginny yelled, “Accio clock!” As she looked at the face flying toward her, she could see three other symbols beside the human faces upon the clock: a snake, like the one Slightly had tattooed on his bony forearm; a raven like the picture on Tink’s door; and a badger. They were familiar but they were missing something.

The clock flew into Ginny’s hands. She kept her wand trained on Snape as it turned into a sword before everyone’s eyes. Ginny could still feel the familiar flow of magic and knew the sword would still perform spells and obey her. She had the attention of all Snape’s men who seemed oblivious to the fact that the dream had shifted and their leader was now no longer a pirate to Ginny but a Potions Master and his foe, the boy who lived.

As Harry fought to stay on his feet, an arrow flew toward his chest. Ginny aimed her wand at him, sending him reeling out of its path. Her spell was much stronger than she’d intended in her fear for his life and the speed with which she had to act. Harry landed with a sickening thud upon the deck just as she heard a tiny scream. The arrow had been snatched away by a Snitch. Tiny Cho Change was dead, her light extinguished forever as raindrops bigger than her whole body landed mercilessly upon her.

Ginny had never much cared for Cho but shouted, “Expelliarmus!” in rage and within seconds all swords flew to her outstretched hands, hilt side toward her.

The arrow had still grazed Harry’s cheek and a nasty gash bled profusely, but again, his heart was spared. He struggled to get up. Tink’s tiny wand lay in her slack fingers.

Slightly, his blonde hair slicked down, his white shirt almost transparent against his skin, was scared. He had killed Tinkerbell.

Snape sneered menacingly at Harry before snatching a rope and swinging to the ground from the deck of the ship. He grabbed Slightly by the hand and dragged him away, the two of them about the same height. Snape ordered his men to flee and not to kill the boy because the Dark Lord Time wanted him all to himself.

Outnumbered and leaderless, the rest of the pirates fled, dawning cloaks and masks instead of the eye patches and bandanas they had been wearing all along. The remaining five Lost Boys climbed the gangplank, which had been blasted open to stand beside Harry who sat, shoulders crumpled and bloodied, over Cho’s tiny body.

“Harry, we’ve got to get her back. Maybe Madam Pomfrey can mend her,” Ginny said quietly. “And you need some help, too.” Indeed all the Lost Boys were in need of cleaning and stitching.

“She’s dead,” Harry said. “And if I go back, all of you will be. Here, I fight pirates every day. Nothing’s died here before. See? Even Tootles is better. I can’t go back. I haven’t learned to fight. Hooknose fights me every day and I never get any stronger from it to fight Him. I can’t lose you too, Ginny. I can’t live there if I do. At least here everything stays the same and from time to time, I can visit you. Even if I can’t have you.”

Harry held Cho in his shaking hands as tears fell from his eyes. A spell seemed to have been broken and the Lost Boys seemed to wake up, no longer, Nibs, Tootles, Curly and the twins, but Ron, Neville, Dean, Fred, and George. But Harry’s eyes were sliding out of focus and even as his friends called to him, he seemed to not to recognize them.

Harry slid to the deck of the ship, the splintered wood digging into his back. His eyes closed, rain filling the tired, closed lids.

Ginny looked around for the clock desperate to do something and knowing the clock was important to Harry. Just as she saw the battered timepiece, something sticky and blue rained down upon them. She had forgotten about the giant squid, bleeding its ink blood all over the ship. Neverland and reality merged in her mind as she fought to keep her thoughts straight again. Fred and George fed the giant squid something from their tattered pockets that looked like a Skiving Snack Box antidote and soon, the dripping ink stopped. The squid slipped gently into the water and swam weakly away.

Harry’s green outfit faded before Ginny’s eyes into his school robes. But the wounds remained. She picked up the clock which lay smashed, its many hands twisted and bent. She grabbed Harry’s cold hand that was now clasping Cho and placed it upon the clock. She pushed his fingers to move the clock hands but he fought her.

“I can’t, Ginny. I have to stay here. You go home.” Harry smiled at her, his scar fading and reappearing each time his eyes closed for an extended period, his clothing changing magically between Peter’s and his own. “It stays still here, Ginny. Time. And I can give it to you. Because it’s all I can give you. I wanted more, I really did, but … Nothing’s ever died here before,” he said in confusion as his eyes closed for longer periods of time with each pain filled blink.

“You can’t stop time, luv,” Ginny whispered, her heart breaking. But she knew that everything would change if she stayed here. Everything that died would remain dead. She had tainted Neverland with reality by coming here.

“We tried to, though,” Harry said, gritting his teeth from the pain. “Cho came with me because she thought there might be a way of bringing Cedric back if we could figure this thing out before Hooknose took it and lost it to the squid along with his hand.” He fiddled with the clock hands uselessly. “Cho was the only one who really knew how to work it,” Harry explained sadly, trying to sit up. He lay her on the deck. “Ravenclaws …”

Ginny’s hopes of returning to Hogwarts with Harry were zapped when she saw that all her friends and brothers were once again wearing the clothing of Neverland and so was Harry.

“Wendy, if we hope to bring Tink back to fix the clock for us, you need to believe.” Ron told her. Harry looked at his best friend as if betrayed but glad of it.

“So now I’m she who must not be named?” Ginny said, anguished but still defiant.

“Say it, Wendy, for me,” Harry begged. “So you can go home. So you can be safe. I promise I’ll visit.”

“But time has no meaning here, Harry.”

Harry cringed, opening his mouth to beg for her to call him Peter so that she could go home and be safe. “It could be years before you come back,” Ginny found herself arguing. “You’re delirious, Harry.”

“It’s Peter,” he told her. And it looked as though it had cost him everything to say it.

“Wendy?” Nibs interjected. “Please?”

“Of course I believe in fairies,” Ginny said off handedly. “I believe in fairies, I do! We have them back home in Hogwarts. Remember Harry … Peter?” As Ginny vowed that she believed in fairies, not for one minute believing that Cho Chang was one, a small golden light fluttered to life on the deck, landing on Harry’s shoulders which were mending before everyone’s eyes.

Cho was awake. She pushed off Harry’s shoulder and began to flutter about in an annoyingly superior way. She mended the clock and handed it to Harry. Then she flew to Ginny and hovered, reflecting in front of Ginny’s face. Cho’s tiny hand held out something small and black to Ginny. Ginny took it and Cho smiled at her sheepishly. It was the kiss. Peter’s kiss. Harry’s kiss.

Cho went and sat on the clock and stared longingly at a picture of Cedric Diggory, tears in her eyes. Then she made the final repair to the clock. Behind Harry’s back as Ginny tried to reason with Harry to come home, Cho set the clock so that the hands all pointed to Hogwarts save two: a handsome Hufflepuff boy and a shiny black haired Ravenclaw girl.

“I do believe in fairies. Harry, you have to come home with me. You can’t stop time …” Ginny mumbled as something soft and warm brushed up against her cheek.
She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light. Someone was closing the window. He walked toward her, his shadow growing longer across the room in the moonlight. Two other figures were standing by the door. Harry sat next to her on the pink bed.

“We know you believe in fairies, Ginny, who doesn’t?” Harry laughed, brushing a stray lock of her hair off her forehead.

“I told you that you were studying too hard,” Hermione smiled gently at Ginny, closing up Peter Pan and folding the Daily Prophet account of the life of Peter Panning.

“We were worried about you when you missed dinner,” Ron said seriously, relief clearly written all over his face. “What with Cho Chang missing and all.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Ron, Cho’s not missing. Luna was just looking for her, and you know … a lot of people hide from Luna.”

“Well, you know, she could be missing. It’s a big school …” Ron muttered.

Ginny knew that Ron meant well, even though she was a little irked by his look of concern. He was more protective of her since her first year encounter with the diary of Tom Riddle. She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the light, relieved to see that Ron hadn’t somehow blasted his way into the Room of Requirement.

“But, how did you get in here?” Ginny asked, looking from one face to the other.

“I thought a happy thought,” Harry told her simply, but he would not elaborate as to what that thought had been. His eyes darted to the Mirror of Erised but Ginny could not see what he saw. She did, however, know that if Harry had somehow managed to make the Room of Requirement open to find her, the thought must have been about her, and his words to open this room must have been powerful. Harry’s eyes were heavily lidded and he looked tired, not like the Peter in her dream, but somehow there was a hope in them that had not been there just days ago. He offered her his hand to help her up after such a long sleep. She took it and felt the warmth. He would need her before long. And she would be there. She thought of the thimble in her dreams.

You will take it off … I know that. But I’ll keep it safe for you.

Something small hit the floor on their way out of the Room of Requirement and Ginny stooped to pick it up. It was a tiny, perfect black button. Slipping it into her pocket, she turned and looked toward the Mirror of Erised, but not into it. If Cho had seen anything like what Ginny had seen in her dreams and in the mirror before, it was not a stretch of the imagination to think that perhaps she really was missing. For holding off time is impossible but if we just think happy thoughts, we really can fly away.

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