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Title: The Road (13/?)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rurounihime
Rating: hard R when all is said and done…
Pairing: H/D eventually
Summary: In the midst of a disintegrating war, Harry awaits the arrival of the Order’s last hope.
Warning: violence, character death, spoilers for all books
Disclaimer: The HP characters and most of the spellwork do not belong to me.
A/N: Thank you to April for her fabulous and attentive beta-ing, and to Coffee for constantly letting me bounce ideas off of her. The other major pairing in this is Blaise/Seamus, but there are minor het pairings as well.
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No artwork for this chapter.
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**ETA: THIS CHAPTER HAS RECEIVED ITS FINAL EDIT**
Previous chapters
Chapter 13: The Reunion
Harry clasped and unclasped his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees. The Infirmary was lit dimly by wall sconces, and was quiet except for the steady movements of George Weasley. Harry shut his eyes, stretching sideways to ease a kink in his ribs. George struggled through a bout of tossing and subsided, fingers clenching in some fitful dream. Muscle spasms skittered up his arms and legs. Harry watched until his friend was breathing easier again, and then looked over at the next bed. Fred slept there, curled on his side and shrouded in blankets. His face was still pale, but he had not woken or even moved since he’d tumbled into the cot two hours ago.
It was George who kept waking and drifting, unable to remain asleep for the fever, and then unable to stand the light when his eyes opened.
They’d been skirting through London for weeks. Fred had told Harry about the squalor of the city, the dark and the damp, and the ominous affliction that slammed suddenly into his brother’s body as they tracked Death Eaters through the tumbled boroughs and leaning thoroughfares. First the fevers, then the sharp neck pain. Headaches. There were no Healers left in the city; St. Mungo’s had fallen. George had finally confiscated his brother’s wand to keep him from using its healing powers and giving them both away. When George began to vomit, Fred had thrown caution to the wind and Apparated them nearer to the castle where Luna could find them.
Madam Pomfrey had dosed George with several elixirs, made him comfortable, and gone down to the kitchens to set more potions brewing. “I’ve plenty of them,” she’d muttered. “But they take time to make and I’d rather…”
Harry had only nodded. He understood. She’d gone, and here he sat, watching his friends rest in the first clean place they’d seen in months.
George would recover, of that Madam Pomfrey was sure. But it was difficult to listen to his incoherent mutterings in the stillness of the ward. Harry smoothed the blanket over George’s chest and thought about finding another pillow to prop his friend’s body up.
What was George seeing behind his eyelids? Harry pressed his fingers to his eyes to stop the burning. He’d been up since before dawn. But the heavier question persisted. Wizarding medicine was virtually nonexistent, save for the few surviving Healers scattered throughout the country. How many more of Harry’s friends were out there fighting not only Death Eaters, but the ravages of disease?
The wards had shifted a quarter of an hour ago, the subtle expansion and retraction that marked another arrival. Harry had considered going downstairs to see who came limping through the door, but in the end, George’s malady kept him in his seat by the bed. Luna slipped back into the healing songs she’d been singing for hours, but Harry had felt the comforting prickle of the summons.
He frowned suddenly and straightened. It had been stronger than usual. He’d not paid attention at the time; George had been thrashing, and hotter than fire. His body was not moderating itself at all anymore and his temperature spiked and fell without warning. Harry hadn’t been able to think about anything else. Now he rose and looked toward the closed Infirmary door, wondering.
Surely Luna would have told him if they’d arrived. She knew how important it was to him. And Harry had greeted everyone at the door so far. Granted, there were only three others who had come staggering in, but he’d welcomed them all, until George and Fred arrived. He chewed his lip and thought about going to Luna’s room to ask.
But she would have said something. Wouldn’t she have done? Harry’s nerves had been on fire all night, twisting his dreams into knots. When he’d wrenched himself out of sleep that morning, the sky was still pitch black. Today was the estimated day of arrival; Harry had not forgotten. But as each hour dwindled, a new fear began to grate upon his nerves.
They might have been caught. Hell, it could have happened days ago and no one in the castle would ever know. Luna could only stretch her sights so far and only at certain times, or she risked the collapse of the ward. She’d informed him when Ginny and Draco first set out, but since then, there had been nothing but what Harry’s own mind conjured. He’d been so preoccupied with what might be happening to them that he’d failed to consider what he might say or do when they did finally arrive.
He took a deep breath and sat back down in the chair, feeling his heart begin to race. Today. The countdown had begun. In a few weeks, give or take the time it took to get all the magic situated, he would be bound and ready to confront Voldemort one final time. And he wouldn’t be alone: Luna was gathering everybody she could cast her mind on, pulling the trustworthy ones toward the castle for the last strike. Just yesterday, Harry had welcomed Seamus Finnigan, and then sent him right back out to locate Hermione. Luna had been able to give Seamus a general idea of her whereabouts, but they were strangely erratic. Harry hadn’t wanted to think about what that meant.
And after today, Blaise would be finishing his own mission. The end of the war was marching ever nearer. Harry rubbed his face, breathing as slowly as he could manage.
There was the final Horcrux to think about. It preyed upon his mind like a viper, slithering into his thoughts when he least expected it. It was better to think about other, more comforting things.
“Ginny,” he whispered. “Think of Ginny.” She’d be at his side when the end came, standing against Voldemort. But the thought of her there did not warm him as he’d hoped. He was more interested in—
Harry shook his head. As if he had any right to want that. It would never be given to him, and he could never work up the nerve to ask for it.
It had no place in this war and he was past wishing for the world to revolve around him and his needs.
Harry.
He tensed, looking up at the ceiling instinctively. “Luna?”
People to see you, she whispered playfully. Harry’s heart nearly stopped in his chest.
He got up and hurried to Fred’s bedside, shaking his friend’s shoulder. Blue eyes opened, foggy with sleep.
“Fred,” he murmured. “Fred, I’ve got to go, someone’s arrived.”
Fred raised his head, features pinching. “What—George?” He struggled to sit up, wrestling with his blankets. “Is—”
Harry shook his head. “He’s fine. He’s still sleeping. I just didn’t want to leave you alone.”
Fred nodded slowly, still hazy from weariness. “Oh... yeah, Harry. It’s—yeah, go ahead.” He succeeded in pulling the blankets from around his shoulders and sat up, dangling his legs over the side of the bed. His eyes fixed on his brother. “I’ll watch him.”
Harry squeezed his shoulder and made for the door. “Pomfrey should be back in a bit.”
Fred nodded and shivered, still looking at his twin. Harry thought about telling him just who it was that had arrived, but he didn’t know for sure—despite what his instincts screamed—and Fred was in far too bad shape to be surprised now. It could wait a little while. Harry closed the Infirmary door behind him. Only then did the coiling of his muscles catch up with him at last, and, breathing too rapidly to be explained by his recent vigil, Harry ran down the hall.
* * *
Ginny’s hand slipped on the stone railing and she caught herself from pitching forward. She glanced over at Draco and saw that he was staring straight ahead. His face was completely emotionless, but he looked corded somehow, taut and waiting. Ginny’s heart thudded a swift cadence. She wasn’t ready for this. What was he drawing on that let him breathe more easily, focus so tightly? She could hardly keep her eyes from darting, searching every shadow for a movement that might mean Harry was there.
What was she going to do anyway? Step aside and give Draco Malfoy her blessing? Tell Harry… gods, tell Harry to go to Draco instead? She wanted to laugh, hard and cruelly, at the absurdity. Here she was, developing a plan for either outcome, and expecting one look from Harry to tell her the way of the world.
Moody clunked up the stairs behind them, and Ginny wanted to stop, wait for a moment, an instant, until her world made sense again.
Footsteps came at a run, and then Harry skidded around a corner near the top of the staircase. When he saw her, his eyes widened. “Ginny!”
That was all it took; Ginny flung herself up the last few steps and into his arms. He caught her in a grip she’d missed and the smell of him overwhelmed her senses.
“Harry,” she breathed.
His arms tightened around her, pressing her forward, and she squeezed him harder than she’d planned, burying her face in his shirt. He was all musk and sunlight and wood-fire, flushed skin, and the tingle of his magic trembled through her. He murmured her name and she almost forgot there were other people there.
Almost.
She pulled back just as Harry stiffened. There was no use pretending she didn’t know who he was staring at over her shoulder. His eyes were wide, pupils retracted to fine points.
“Draco,” he said softly.
Draco. Not Malfoy. Irritation flared. She dug her fingers into Harry’s back, and he blinked, looking down at her once more. His gaze warmed. He pulled her close again, brushing his lips over her hair. “So glad you’re alright.”
“Me too.” Something must have come through in her voice because Harry’s forehead furrowed. His eyes tracked between Draco and Moody.
“What happened?”
Only silence answered. Then, Draco’s voice.
“Death Eaters, Potter. Hard to believe.”
The ice in his tone curled Ginny’s insides. Why did it hurt to hear him speak like that? He meant very little to her, and she even less to him. But that wasn’t true, and the quailing in her belly reminded her of it. Harry was still watching Draco. Ginny summoned her voice.
“It’s alright. We got away. They didn’t follow us.”
Harry gripped her arms, holding her away from him. He searched her face. “Did they hurt either of you?”
“No,” Draco muttered, too quickly. Harry’s eyes narrowed. Ginny knew the cut on Draco’s head was very visible.
“Draco. Are you alright?”
Ginny jerked, staring at Harry. His voice had changed. Very subtly—if she hadn’t been focusing on every detail, she would have missed it. He didn’t even register her movement. Ginny swept his face, heart climbing into her throat, and right then, Draco answered.
“Spare me your pity, Potter.” She could taste the sneer.
And Harry flinched. A twitch of his shoulders under her fingers, and a downward curve of his lips. A pain came into the edges of Harry’s eyes and was gone in a flash. Ginny was left gaping.
Harry blinked twice, then folded his arms back around her. “Thank the gods,” he sighed. “I was afraid—”
He broke off, the crack in his voice evident. Ginny wanted nothing but to kiss him, soothe the fear out of the body she knew so well, allow strength and vitality back in where it belonged. She splayed her fingers over his shoulder, giving him the slightest urge downward. Kiss me, Harry, she thought. Just a kiss. So I can feel you, alive, again.
Harry’s eyes flicked over her face, intelligent, and so worried. So tender. He bent his head and she felt a skip of blood through her veins, but at the last instant, his chin rose and he gentled an kiss against her forehead. His lips lingered and in that scant time, Ginny’s heart chilled in her chest.
It was a helpless understanding, gone in an instant, but it razed a wide swath in its wake. Ginny shut her eyes, keeping the tears at bay. Not conclusive, you fool. Don’t be such a child.
Harry drew a deep breath that changed the shape of his chest beneath her cheek. “Thank you, Draco, so much. I don’t… There’s nothing I can say to convey my gratitude.”
She heard Draco shift convulsively. “Then please, don’t say anything, Potter. Your waste of words is so typical.”
Ginny’s mood spiralled further. So that was what bolstered Draco: anger. He drew it up like a siphon, and the words lashed across his tongue like arrows. But she could hear the grit and blood underneath, poisoning his perfect hatred into something merely painful, tucked into a corner somewhere. It was impossible to miss when she’d seen it shining from his very eyes.
Harry’s heartbeat was a dull thud against her ear. He was looking at Draco, she could tell, mute and surprised. “All the same. Thank you.”
Ginny peered around, still clutching to Harry’s body. Draco was staring at her. His face was stony, but his eyes uttered impotent, enraged cries to her soul. Harry’s arms tightened around her again and Draco looked away.
“I’m tired,” he muttered. “I’d like to sleep.”
Harry stirred. For a moment Ginny feared he would push her away. “There’s a room set aside for you. I can—”
Moody broke in. “Later. Malfoy, come with me. There are questions that need answering.”
Ginny turned away, unable to face the smouldering grey eyes. Harry continued to hold her as Moody clunked down the hall toward the next staircase, Draco’s footsteps following sullenly behind.
* * *
The room Harry led her to was draped in vermillion velvet and heated by a roaring fire. Ginny shed her cloak, laying it over one of the lush chairs. Her hands had begun to shake, and the orderliness of such a proper motion as folding her cloak beckoned, tried to return her to the semblance of security. Harry set her knapsack down by the hearth. When he turned to face her, the look in his eyes made her heart ache.
“It’s a sitting room.” He gestured, shifting from foot to foot, and suddenly he was the shy schoolboy again. “It’s closer than your room and you… looked cold.”
His earnestness was palpable. She had to smile. “Thank you.”
His lips quirked, flooding her with still more memories. She looked around. “Where exactly is my room?”
Harry pointed upward. “Third floor. Mine’s on the fourth and Luna is further down this hall, in the heart of the castle.”
Ginny listened to the faint harp notes. The music was so mild; she was already growing accustomed to it. “It’ll be good to see her.”
“She’s been waiting to see you.”
“Who else is here?”
Harry crossed the room, but stopped before reaching her, standing behind one of the chairs. “Oliver Wood, Sinead Fawcett, and Morag McDougal. Seamus came and left yesterday—”
Ginny gripped the back of the chair that held her cloak. “Seamus was here? Is he—And Blaise? Blaise is here, too?”
A guarded look passed over Harry’s face. “Seamus left again to find Hermione. Blaise… isn’t here yet.”
“Oh.” Had she been hoping for it so fervently? Perhaps she needed her friends to distract her from what was coming. She made to sit down, but Harry stepped toward her.
“Fred and George are here, too.”
Ginny leapt back up, all other thoughts gone. “Where?”
“In the Infirmary,” he answered, and Ginny froze.
“Are they alright?”
Harry approached, hands held out in placation. “Oh, Gin, no, they’re fine. George is… well, he’s sick, but Pomfrey caught it and he’ll be fine. I promise.” He touched her again, one hand settling on her shoulder, but there was still something missing. So much hesitancy, as though he didn’t quite know how to touch her anymore. Ginny fought to keep still. If only she could grab hold of him, take the kiss she wanted… But no. Wasn’t that was the whole point? His move would give her the answers she sought, and if she forced it, she’d never know what he would have done.
She concentrated on the more pressing matter. “Can I see them? I just need to—”
She stopped, but could see her unfinished plea in his eyes. He took her hand and drew her from the room, winding down a long hallway and through several abandoned chambers before pulling to a halt. Ginny found it hard to breathe for an entirely different reason. On the other side of that door was her family.
“Gin,” Harry said, hand poised over the door handle. “Fred might be sleeping and George’s potions put him under. I don’t know if—”
“It’s okay.” She didn’t care if they knew she was there. She just had to see for herself that they were breathing, living, out of harm’s way.
Harry nodded and pushed open the door, and Ginny squinted into the torchlight. At first all she could see were empty beds, and then two figures wrapped in blankets in the middle of the first row. One moved slightly and a shock of red hair appeared. Ginny shoved through the door, stumbling when she reached the first occupied bed. It was George, ash-pale but breathing steadily. She couldn’t help touching him, grasping his hand, but he did not stir. She glanced over to the next bed and was jolted to see Fred there, a blanket wrapped around him, face passive in sleep. It was a mystery why it should have shocked her to find him there, but even through the vibrant palpitations of her heart, she could see the difference in Fred’s slumber. Natural. George’s was potions-induced, but Fred was sleeping the sleep of exhaustion and she found she didn’t want to wake him.
They’re safe. Merlin, they… Safe.
She dropped to her knees next to the bed, pressed her face to George’s hand, and found his skin hot. Harry stood a few feet away, watching her from between the beds. “He’s sick?” she mouthed. Harry nodded and knelt beside her. His breath came warm over her ear.
“Fever, muscle aches and spasms. A few days and he’ll be fine. Fred brought him right here as soon as he… well.”
She stayed there on the floor listening to her brothers breathe, and Harry remained beside her, silent as snow. She couldn’t put a price on this. A thanks to Luna for calling them home, to Harry and Madam Pomfrey for taking care of them, to… to Draco for getting her here in one piece to see; the danger was nothing compared to knowing she wouldn’t have to say goodbye to yet another brother. They were both here, safe for some time at least. The relief left her weak. Even if she had no idea about her other three surviving brothers, at least this moment was unfettered by their absence. Fred and George had been returned to her.
When Harry finally led her back down the hall, Ginny couldn’t think of a thing to say. There was plenty, obviously, but no way to utter it. The halls had grown darker and Luna’s voice echoed off the stones like a murmur in a cave. Ginny had no idea what time it was, but she could hear the roll of thunder outside. It almost sounded like the grinding of staircases.
Thankfully, the door to her sitting room closed the sound out, and the painful memories of Hogwarts sank away once more. At last, in the glow of the fire and the further muting of Luna’s song, Ginny found her voice.
“How long have they been here?”
Harry went to the hearth. “They got here early this afternoon. Luna’s calling everyone in. Oliver’s been here for days. It’s…” He fidgeted. “Well, you’ve arrived. So.”
“So.” And there they were, at that subject already. She didn’t think she’d ever be prepared to talk about it candidly. It was sex, in every sense of the word, and Harry was the end of the line. It didn’t surprise her how willing she was to commit to the idea of forever. She’d known it for months now. But there had never been an alternative in all those months, and Harry’s response meant absolutely everything now.
She wondered where Draco Malfoy was at this moment.
“I don’t know how many will make it here in time,” Harry was saying. “Or how many are still out there. When Hermione gets in, she may be able to give us numbers as far as the Death Eaters go.”
Something stirred. “Harry. The Death Eaters we ran into, they knew I was with Malfoy.”
Harry’s gaze sharpened alarmingly. He came quickly toward her, until she thought she’d have to step back to avoid collision. “They knew you were with Draco?”
“They said my name. Could have been a guess, but…” She trailed off. Harry looked away.
“She’s not dead. Not Hermione. They’re not...” One of his hands climbed through his hair. “What does Draco say?”
Ginny looked down, uneasiness coiling in her stomach. “We didn’t really talk about it.”
Harry frowned. “Why not?”
She shrugged; she didn’t want to talk about Draco. The two of them should have discussed it; it would have been the intelligent thing to do. And yet she’d allowed her personal issues to take over, and then they’d been in no state for any sort of intellectual conversation. “We were trying to get away from them,” she finished lamely.
When Harry looked at her this time, his entire body had softened, leaving the edges of desperation only around his mouth and eyes. “Gods…” His eyes swept over her as if touching her. “I owe him so much.”
Ginny swallowed, wondering if the strange light in his eyes was really for her. She’d thought it would be easy to tell, but now that she was faced with it, she had no idea.
It was time to grit her teeth and draw it out. Before her imagination ran away with her.
“He saved my life.” She watched Harry as she said it. “I didn’t think he’d… He didn’t have to do it.”
Harry stretched out an arm and gathered her near, but she didn’t miss the way his lips brushed her forehead again. Chaste. There was nothing behind it except for the concern she’d never before had reason to question. Harry’s breathing was rock-steady under her palms.
“Are you alright?” he murmured.
She summoned her courage. “One of the Death Eaters hit him.”
There it was. The ever-so-slight stiffening of muscles. “Forehead?”
She nodded. He drew them away from me. She should have said it. Sacrificed himself. That’s why I need to know if you… that you don’t… But the words died somewhere in her throat. Any answer Harry could have given would be too unyielding. Ginny was beginning to realise that neither answer would leave her feeling good.
What would Harry say if she told him she had been the one to save Draco’s life? She didn’t think she could witness that. Oh, she was such a coward: the moment of truth was at hand and she couldn’t even manage the questions to see it through.
Why did Malfoy have to be a part of this equation at all? He never had been before. It was always just her and Harry, even with Dean and Michael Corner and Cho. Somehow she’d always, always known…
That was it: for the first time since she’d met Harry Potter, she didn’t know how it would turn out.
But he chose you. Not Draco. That was the crux of it, but how had the choice been made? Because he loved her, or because he knew she loved him? Did Harry even know his own mind? Harry had told her that his adoration for her had crept up and enveloped him before he realised that his own feelings had changed. Perhaps something else had been building for far longer, hidden in insults and petty jabs, in an understanding that went even deeper than fancy, into obsession.
“He’s alright, you know,” she said carefully, fully aware of the dual meaning. Harry leaned back until she could meet his eyes.
“He was the best one for this, Gin. You have to understand.”
“I know,” she muttered. “You chose well.”
There was a ragged edge to his sigh. He stepped away. “I needed to know you’d be safe. If anything had happened… He knows things the others don’t, and I’ve never met someone more willing to—Ginny, I had to keep you safe. When Ron died, I…”
Is that all I am now? she thought sadly. A promise to Ron? She knew it wasn’t as simple as that. Harry cared for her, and not just because he’d told Ron he would. But the balance had shifted somehow and she’d been apart from Harry for too long.
“You respect him, don’t you?” She said it before she could consider. But it was just a tangent and she knew the answer anyway.
It was still a shock to see Harry’s body unfold. His head lifted like a bird’s into alertness and that gleam she’d not been able to make heads or tails of in school now shone fiercely out at her. “If you’d any idea what he’s given… What he’s sacrificed…”
What about what I’ve sacrificed? But none of that had been for Harry specifically. Draco had clearly done this for Harry, not for her at all. Maybe he’d needed to be close to Harry again. Or maybe it was one of those decisions made in a moment of desperation, but he’d followed through, for Harry. He’d been ready to throw his life away to get Harry what he needed.
“He made our bond possible,” she choked out. Harry looked up sharply, hesitated, and nodded.
“Yes, he did.”
He wasn’t looking at her anymore. He’d tensed again. Our bond, and he’d stiffened up in a way she couldn’t ignore. He wasn’t sure he wanted it. Ginny’s throat closed. His duty, then, and she might have walked into it blindly, accepted it for what she wanted it to be. She knew in that instant that if she said nothing, if she just carried on, Harry would continue all the way to the finish and she would have him, because it was what had to be done to stop Voldemort. But not because he wanted to be with her.
The tide of Harry’s moods spoke silently about where his mind truly was, who his thoughts were with. Tears filled Ginny’s eyes and she was glad he was looking away, lost in whatever ruminations her last words had conjured. But she needed to see it one more time.
“I never thought…” —it was a struggle— “that Draco Malfoy would do it.”
Harry’s lips curved. One hand clenched into a fist and released.
I did.
He didn’t speak, but she heard it. Some silent pain lined his face, crossing the strange openness there, and what was left of Ginny’s resolve crumbled to dust there in her heart.
She had her answer, and it stung like a barb. It didn’t matter that Harry might not be aware, because she was aware. And now her foolish, righteous ultimatums for herself reared, spiking ache after ache, burying her under tears she had kept at bay. Tell him to bond with Draco instead, her brain mimicked. It’s what you’d planned.
She couldn’t. Couldn’t give him up like that, close the door so finally on what they had. She couldn’t give him to Draco Malfoy, couldn’t go through with her necessary sacrifice.
It was the one thing she had the power to give to Harry, and she was nothing in the face of her self-pity. She’d actually thought she would be able to do it. But then, she’d never really believed she’d have to, had she?
So selfish, all the way to the end.
“Harry.” Her voice cracked; the words weren’t going to come. Harry looked up, brow furrowed, and Ginny felt herself stumbling over an edge. She couldn’t say the words, so she found the next best thing.
“Harry, I thanked him.” Deep breath. “But he didn’t want it from me.” Like the last moments of a race, staving off collapse for one more crucial instant. “I think… Can you go thank him for me?”
Harry’s eyes widened. He straightened slowly, but she could see the energy, gliding and sparking through his frame at her words. “Are you alright here for a minute?”
She waved at him with one hand, unable to do more. “I’ll be fine. Don’t want him to think me ungr… grateful.”
Harry actually smiled at her, much wider and more adoring than anything she’d seen this night. “I’ll thank him for the both of us.” He crossed toward the door and glanced back, eyes warm. “Be back to take you to your room.”
Ginny nodded; already her chin was trembling. She watched him open the door and shut it again, leaving her with the crackling of the fire. Luna’s voice had silenced, a new sort of ward in its place, and in the quiet, Ginny wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed as hard as she could, trying to contain the sobs.
It didn’t take long before they rolled over her.
...
Chapter 14
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This chapter’s music: The song I’ve picked for Ginny in this chapter is Hebrides Lullaby, or Christ-Child’s Lullaby (traditional). I love the eerie quality of the melody, something that I believe defines most good lullabies. It’s quite sorrowful, when you think about it, and so lovely.
Author:
rurounihimeRating: hard R when all is said and done…
Pairing: H/D eventually
Summary: In the midst of a disintegrating war, Harry awaits the arrival of the Order’s last hope.
Warning: violence, character death, spoilers for all books
Disclaimer: The HP characters and most of the spellwork do not belong to me.
A/N: Thank you to April for her fabulous and attentive beta-ing, and to Coffee for constantly letting me bounce ideas off of her. The other major pairing in this is Blaise/Seamus, but there are minor het pairings as well.
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No artwork for this chapter.
…
**ETA: THIS CHAPTER HAS RECEIVED ITS FINAL EDIT**
Previous chapters
Chapter 13: The Reunion
Harry clasped and unclasped his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees. The Infirmary was lit dimly by wall sconces, and was quiet except for the steady movements of George Weasley. Harry shut his eyes, stretching sideways to ease a kink in his ribs. George struggled through a bout of tossing and subsided, fingers clenching in some fitful dream. Muscle spasms skittered up his arms and legs. Harry watched until his friend was breathing easier again, and then looked over at the next bed. Fred slept there, curled on his side and shrouded in blankets. His face was still pale, but he had not woken or even moved since he’d tumbled into the cot two hours ago.
It was George who kept waking and drifting, unable to remain asleep for the fever, and then unable to stand the light when his eyes opened.
They’d been skirting through London for weeks. Fred had told Harry about the squalor of the city, the dark and the damp, and the ominous affliction that slammed suddenly into his brother’s body as they tracked Death Eaters through the tumbled boroughs and leaning thoroughfares. First the fevers, then the sharp neck pain. Headaches. There were no Healers left in the city; St. Mungo’s had fallen. George had finally confiscated his brother’s wand to keep him from using its healing powers and giving them both away. When George began to vomit, Fred had thrown caution to the wind and Apparated them nearer to the castle where Luna could find them.
Madam Pomfrey had dosed George with several elixirs, made him comfortable, and gone down to the kitchens to set more potions brewing. “I’ve plenty of them,” she’d muttered. “But they take time to make and I’d rather…”
Harry had only nodded. He understood. She’d gone, and here he sat, watching his friends rest in the first clean place they’d seen in months.
George would recover, of that Madam Pomfrey was sure. But it was difficult to listen to his incoherent mutterings in the stillness of the ward. Harry smoothed the blanket over George’s chest and thought about finding another pillow to prop his friend’s body up.
What was George seeing behind his eyelids? Harry pressed his fingers to his eyes to stop the burning. He’d been up since before dawn. But the heavier question persisted. Wizarding medicine was virtually nonexistent, save for the few surviving Healers scattered throughout the country. How many more of Harry’s friends were out there fighting not only Death Eaters, but the ravages of disease?
The wards had shifted a quarter of an hour ago, the subtle expansion and retraction that marked another arrival. Harry had considered going downstairs to see who came limping through the door, but in the end, George’s malady kept him in his seat by the bed. Luna slipped back into the healing songs she’d been singing for hours, but Harry had felt the comforting prickle of the summons.
He frowned suddenly and straightened. It had been stronger than usual. He’d not paid attention at the time; George had been thrashing, and hotter than fire. His body was not moderating itself at all anymore and his temperature spiked and fell without warning. Harry hadn’t been able to think about anything else. Now he rose and looked toward the closed Infirmary door, wondering.
Surely Luna would have told him if they’d arrived. She knew how important it was to him. And Harry had greeted everyone at the door so far. Granted, there were only three others who had come staggering in, but he’d welcomed them all, until George and Fred arrived. He chewed his lip and thought about going to Luna’s room to ask.
But she would have said something. Wouldn’t she have done? Harry’s nerves had been on fire all night, twisting his dreams into knots. When he’d wrenched himself out of sleep that morning, the sky was still pitch black. Today was the estimated day of arrival; Harry had not forgotten. But as each hour dwindled, a new fear began to grate upon his nerves.
They might have been caught. Hell, it could have happened days ago and no one in the castle would ever know. Luna could only stretch her sights so far and only at certain times, or she risked the collapse of the ward. She’d informed him when Ginny and Draco first set out, but since then, there had been nothing but what Harry’s own mind conjured. He’d been so preoccupied with what might be happening to them that he’d failed to consider what he might say or do when they did finally arrive.
He took a deep breath and sat back down in the chair, feeling his heart begin to race. Today. The countdown had begun. In a few weeks, give or take the time it took to get all the magic situated, he would be bound and ready to confront Voldemort one final time. And he wouldn’t be alone: Luna was gathering everybody she could cast her mind on, pulling the trustworthy ones toward the castle for the last strike. Just yesterday, Harry had welcomed Seamus Finnigan, and then sent him right back out to locate Hermione. Luna had been able to give Seamus a general idea of her whereabouts, but they were strangely erratic. Harry hadn’t wanted to think about what that meant.
And after today, Blaise would be finishing his own mission. The end of the war was marching ever nearer. Harry rubbed his face, breathing as slowly as he could manage.
There was the final Horcrux to think about. It preyed upon his mind like a viper, slithering into his thoughts when he least expected it. It was better to think about other, more comforting things.
“Ginny,” he whispered. “Think of Ginny.” She’d be at his side when the end came, standing against Voldemort. But the thought of her there did not warm him as he’d hoped. He was more interested in—
Harry shook his head. As if he had any right to want that. It would never be given to him, and he could never work up the nerve to ask for it.
It had no place in this war and he was past wishing for the world to revolve around him and his needs.
Harry.
He tensed, looking up at the ceiling instinctively. “Luna?”
People to see you, she whispered playfully. Harry’s heart nearly stopped in his chest.
He got up and hurried to Fred’s bedside, shaking his friend’s shoulder. Blue eyes opened, foggy with sleep.
“Fred,” he murmured. “Fred, I’ve got to go, someone’s arrived.”
Fred raised his head, features pinching. “What—George?” He struggled to sit up, wrestling with his blankets. “Is—”
Harry shook his head. “He’s fine. He’s still sleeping. I just didn’t want to leave you alone.”
Fred nodded slowly, still hazy from weariness. “Oh... yeah, Harry. It’s—yeah, go ahead.” He succeeded in pulling the blankets from around his shoulders and sat up, dangling his legs over the side of the bed. His eyes fixed on his brother. “I’ll watch him.”
Harry squeezed his shoulder and made for the door. “Pomfrey should be back in a bit.”
Fred nodded and shivered, still looking at his twin. Harry thought about telling him just who it was that had arrived, but he didn’t know for sure—despite what his instincts screamed—and Fred was in far too bad shape to be surprised now. It could wait a little while. Harry closed the Infirmary door behind him. Only then did the coiling of his muscles catch up with him at last, and, breathing too rapidly to be explained by his recent vigil, Harry ran down the hall.
* * *
Ginny’s hand slipped on the stone railing and she caught herself from pitching forward. She glanced over at Draco and saw that he was staring straight ahead. His face was completely emotionless, but he looked corded somehow, taut and waiting. Ginny’s heart thudded a swift cadence. She wasn’t ready for this. What was he drawing on that let him breathe more easily, focus so tightly? She could hardly keep her eyes from darting, searching every shadow for a movement that might mean Harry was there.
What was she going to do anyway? Step aside and give Draco Malfoy her blessing? Tell Harry… gods, tell Harry to go to Draco instead? She wanted to laugh, hard and cruelly, at the absurdity. Here she was, developing a plan for either outcome, and expecting one look from Harry to tell her the way of the world.
Moody clunked up the stairs behind them, and Ginny wanted to stop, wait for a moment, an instant, until her world made sense again.
Footsteps came at a run, and then Harry skidded around a corner near the top of the staircase. When he saw her, his eyes widened. “Ginny!”
That was all it took; Ginny flung herself up the last few steps and into his arms. He caught her in a grip she’d missed and the smell of him overwhelmed her senses.
“Harry,” she breathed.
His arms tightened around her, pressing her forward, and she squeezed him harder than she’d planned, burying her face in his shirt. He was all musk and sunlight and wood-fire, flushed skin, and the tingle of his magic trembled through her. He murmured her name and she almost forgot there were other people there.
Almost.
She pulled back just as Harry stiffened. There was no use pretending she didn’t know who he was staring at over her shoulder. His eyes were wide, pupils retracted to fine points.
“Draco,” he said softly.
Draco. Not Malfoy. Irritation flared. She dug her fingers into Harry’s back, and he blinked, looking down at her once more. His gaze warmed. He pulled her close again, brushing his lips over her hair. “So glad you’re alright.”
“Me too.” Something must have come through in her voice because Harry’s forehead furrowed. His eyes tracked between Draco and Moody.
“What happened?”
Only silence answered. Then, Draco’s voice.
“Death Eaters, Potter. Hard to believe.”
The ice in his tone curled Ginny’s insides. Why did it hurt to hear him speak like that? He meant very little to her, and she even less to him. But that wasn’t true, and the quailing in her belly reminded her of it. Harry was still watching Draco. Ginny summoned her voice.
“It’s alright. We got away. They didn’t follow us.”
Harry gripped her arms, holding her away from him. He searched her face. “Did they hurt either of you?”
“No,” Draco muttered, too quickly. Harry’s eyes narrowed. Ginny knew the cut on Draco’s head was very visible.
“Draco. Are you alright?”
Ginny jerked, staring at Harry. His voice had changed. Very subtly—if she hadn’t been focusing on every detail, she would have missed it. He didn’t even register her movement. Ginny swept his face, heart climbing into her throat, and right then, Draco answered.
“Spare me your pity, Potter.” She could taste the sneer.
And Harry flinched. A twitch of his shoulders under her fingers, and a downward curve of his lips. A pain came into the edges of Harry’s eyes and was gone in a flash. Ginny was left gaping.
Harry blinked twice, then folded his arms back around her. “Thank the gods,” he sighed. “I was afraid—”
He broke off, the crack in his voice evident. Ginny wanted nothing but to kiss him, soothe the fear out of the body she knew so well, allow strength and vitality back in where it belonged. She splayed her fingers over his shoulder, giving him the slightest urge downward. Kiss me, Harry, she thought. Just a kiss. So I can feel you, alive, again.
Harry’s eyes flicked over her face, intelligent, and so worried. So tender. He bent his head and she felt a skip of blood through her veins, but at the last instant, his chin rose and he gentled an kiss against her forehead. His lips lingered and in that scant time, Ginny’s heart chilled in her chest.
It was a helpless understanding, gone in an instant, but it razed a wide swath in its wake. Ginny shut her eyes, keeping the tears at bay. Not conclusive, you fool. Don’t be such a child.
Harry drew a deep breath that changed the shape of his chest beneath her cheek. “Thank you, Draco, so much. I don’t… There’s nothing I can say to convey my gratitude.”
She heard Draco shift convulsively. “Then please, don’t say anything, Potter. Your waste of words is so typical.”
Ginny’s mood spiralled further. So that was what bolstered Draco: anger. He drew it up like a siphon, and the words lashed across his tongue like arrows. But she could hear the grit and blood underneath, poisoning his perfect hatred into something merely painful, tucked into a corner somewhere. It was impossible to miss when she’d seen it shining from his very eyes.
Harry’s heartbeat was a dull thud against her ear. He was looking at Draco, she could tell, mute and surprised. “All the same. Thank you.”
Ginny peered around, still clutching to Harry’s body. Draco was staring at her. His face was stony, but his eyes uttered impotent, enraged cries to her soul. Harry’s arms tightened around her again and Draco looked away.
“I’m tired,” he muttered. “I’d like to sleep.”
Harry stirred. For a moment Ginny feared he would push her away. “There’s a room set aside for you. I can—”
Moody broke in. “Later. Malfoy, come with me. There are questions that need answering.”
Ginny turned away, unable to face the smouldering grey eyes. Harry continued to hold her as Moody clunked down the hall toward the next staircase, Draco’s footsteps following sullenly behind.
* * *
The room Harry led her to was draped in vermillion velvet and heated by a roaring fire. Ginny shed her cloak, laying it over one of the lush chairs. Her hands had begun to shake, and the orderliness of such a proper motion as folding her cloak beckoned, tried to return her to the semblance of security. Harry set her knapsack down by the hearth. When he turned to face her, the look in his eyes made her heart ache.
“It’s a sitting room.” He gestured, shifting from foot to foot, and suddenly he was the shy schoolboy again. “It’s closer than your room and you… looked cold.”
His earnestness was palpable. She had to smile. “Thank you.”
His lips quirked, flooding her with still more memories. She looked around. “Where exactly is my room?”
Harry pointed upward. “Third floor. Mine’s on the fourth and Luna is further down this hall, in the heart of the castle.”
Ginny listened to the faint harp notes. The music was so mild; she was already growing accustomed to it. “It’ll be good to see her.”
“She’s been waiting to see you.”
“Who else is here?”
Harry crossed the room, but stopped before reaching her, standing behind one of the chairs. “Oliver Wood, Sinead Fawcett, and Morag McDougal. Seamus came and left yesterday—”
Ginny gripped the back of the chair that held her cloak. “Seamus was here? Is he—And Blaise? Blaise is here, too?”
A guarded look passed over Harry’s face. “Seamus left again to find Hermione. Blaise… isn’t here yet.”
“Oh.” Had she been hoping for it so fervently? Perhaps she needed her friends to distract her from what was coming. She made to sit down, but Harry stepped toward her.
“Fred and George are here, too.”
Ginny leapt back up, all other thoughts gone. “Where?”
“In the Infirmary,” he answered, and Ginny froze.
“Are they alright?”
Harry approached, hands held out in placation. “Oh, Gin, no, they’re fine. George is… well, he’s sick, but Pomfrey caught it and he’ll be fine. I promise.” He touched her again, one hand settling on her shoulder, but there was still something missing. So much hesitancy, as though he didn’t quite know how to touch her anymore. Ginny fought to keep still. If only she could grab hold of him, take the kiss she wanted… But no. Wasn’t that was the whole point? His move would give her the answers she sought, and if she forced it, she’d never know what he would have done.
She concentrated on the more pressing matter. “Can I see them? I just need to—”
She stopped, but could see her unfinished plea in his eyes. He took her hand and drew her from the room, winding down a long hallway and through several abandoned chambers before pulling to a halt. Ginny found it hard to breathe for an entirely different reason. On the other side of that door was her family.
“Gin,” Harry said, hand poised over the door handle. “Fred might be sleeping and George’s potions put him under. I don’t know if—”
“It’s okay.” She didn’t care if they knew she was there. She just had to see for herself that they were breathing, living, out of harm’s way.
Harry nodded and pushed open the door, and Ginny squinted into the torchlight. At first all she could see were empty beds, and then two figures wrapped in blankets in the middle of the first row. One moved slightly and a shock of red hair appeared. Ginny shoved through the door, stumbling when she reached the first occupied bed. It was George, ash-pale but breathing steadily. She couldn’t help touching him, grasping his hand, but he did not stir. She glanced over to the next bed and was jolted to see Fred there, a blanket wrapped around him, face passive in sleep. It was a mystery why it should have shocked her to find him there, but even through the vibrant palpitations of her heart, she could see the difference in Fred’s slumber. Natural. George’s was potions-induced, but Fred was sleeping the sleep of exhaustion and she found she didn’t want to wake him.
They’re safe. Merlin, they… Safe.
She dropped to her knees next to the bed, pressed her face to George’s hand, and found his skin hot. Harry stood a few feet away, watching her from between the beds. “He’s sick?” she mouthed. Harry nodded and knelt beside her. His breath came warm over her ear.
“Fever, muscle aches and spasms. A few days and he’ll be fine. Fred brought him right here as soon as he… well.”
She stayed there on the floor listening to her brothers breathe, and Harry remained beside her, silent as snow. She couldn’t put a price on this. A thanks to Luna for calling them home, to Harry and Madam Pomfrey for taking care of them, to… to Draco for getting her here in one piece to see; the danger was nothing compared to knowing she wouldn’t have to say goodbye to yet another brother. They were both here, safe for some time at least. The relief left her weak. Even if she had no idea about her other three surviving brothers, at least this moment was unfettered by their absence. Fred and George had been returned to her.
When Harry finally led her back down the hall, Ginny couldn’t think of a thing to say. There was plenty, obviously, but no way to utter it. The halls had grown darker and Luna’s voice echoed off the stones like a murmur in a cave. Ginny had no idea what time it was, but she could hear the roll of thunder outside. It almost sounded like the grinding of staircases.
Thankfully, the door to her sitting room closed the sound out, and the painful memories of Hogwarts sank away once more. At last, in the glow of the fire and the further muting of Luna’s song, Ginny found her voice.
“How long have they been here?”
Harry went to the hearth. “They got here early this afternoon. Luna’s calling everyone in. Oliver’s been here for days. It’s…” He fidgeted. “Well, you’ve arrived. So.”
“So.” And there they were, at that subject already. She didn’t think she’d ever be prepared to talk about it candidly. It was sex, in every sense of the word, and Harry was the end of the line. It didn’t surprise her how willing she was to commit to the idea of forever. She’d known it for months now. But there had never been an alternative in all those months, and Harry’s response meant absolutely everything now.
She wondered where Draco Malfoy was at this moment.
“I don’t know how many will make it here in time,” Harry was saying. “Or how many are still out there. When Hermione gets in, she may be able to give us numbers as far as the Death Eaters go.”
Something stirred. “Harry. The Death Eaters we ran into, they knew I was with Malfoy.”
Harry’s gaze sharpened alarmingly. He came quickly toward her, until she thought she’d have to step back to avoid collision. “They knew you were with Draco?”
“They said my name. Could have been a guess, but…” She trailed off. Harry looked away.
“She’s not dead. Not Hermione. They’re not...” One of his hands climbed through his hair. “What does Draco say?”
Ginny looked down, uneasiness coiling in her stomach. “We didn’t really talk about it.”
Harry frowned. “Why not?”
She shrugged; she didn’t want to talk about Draco. The two of them should have discussed it; it would have been the intelligent thing to do. And yet she’d allowed her personal issues to take over, and then they’d been in no state for any sort of intellectual conversation. “We were trying to get away from them,” she finished lamely.
When Harry looked at her this time, his entire body had softened, leaving the edges of desperation only around his mouth and eyes. “Gods…” His eyes swept over her as if touching her. “I owe him so much.”
Ginny swallowed, wondering if the strange light in his eyes was really for her. She’d thought it would be easy to tell, but now that she was faced with it, she had no idea.
It was time to grit her teeth and draw it out. Before her imagination ran away with her.
“He saved my life.” She watched Harry as she said it. “I didn’t think he’d… He didn’t have to do it.”
Harry stretched out an arm and gathered her near, but she didn’t miss the way his lips brushed her forehead again. Chaste. There was nothing behind it except for the concern she’d never before had reason to question. Harry’s breathing was rock-steady under her palms.
“Are you alright?” he murmured.
She summoned her courage. “One of the Death Eaters hit him.”
There it was. The ever-so-slight stiffening of muscles. “Forehead?”
She nodded. He drew them away from me. She should have said it. Sacrificed himself. That’s why I need to know if you… that you don’t… But the words died somewhere in her throat. Any answer Harry could have given would be too unyielding. Ginny was beginning to realise that neither answer would leave her feeling good.
What would Harry say if she told him she had been the one to save Draco’s life? She didn’t think she could witness that. Oh, she was such a coward: the moment of truth was at hand and she couldn’t even manage the questions to see it through.
Why did Malfoy have to be a part of this equation at all? He never had been before. It was always just her and Harry, even with Dean and Michael Corner and Cho. Somehow she’d always, always known…
That was it: for the first time since she’d met Harry Potter, she didn’t know how it would turn out.
But he chose you. Not Draco. That was the crux of it, but how had the choice been made? Because he loved her, or because he knew she loved him? Did Harry even know his own mind? Harry had told her that his adoration for her had crept up and enveloped him before he realised that his own feelings had changed. Perhaps something else had been building for far longer, hidden in insults and petty jabs, in an understanding that went even deeper than fancy, into obsession.
“He’s alright, you know,” she said carefully, fully aware of the dual meaning. Harry leaned back until she could meet his eyes.
“He was the best one for this, Gin. You have to understand.”
“I know,” she muttered. “You chose well.”
There was a ragged edge to his sigh. He stepped away. “I needed to know you’d be safe. If anything had happened… He knows things the others don’t, and I’ve never met someone more willing to—Ginny, I had to keep you safe. When Ron died, I…”
Is that all I am now? she thought sadly. A promise to Ron? She knew it wasn’t as simple as that. Harry cared for her, and not just because he’d told Ron he would. But the balance had shifted somehow and she’d been apart from Harry for too long.
“You respect him, don’t you?” She said it before she could consider. But it was just a tangent and she knew the answer anyway.
It was still a shock to see Harry’s body unfold. His head lifted like a bird’s into alertness and that gleam she’d not been able to make heads or tails of in school now shone fiercely out at her. “If you’d any idea what he’s given… What he’s sacrificed…”
What about what I’ve sacrificed? But none of that had been for Harry specifically. Draco had clearly done this for Harry, not for her at all. Maybe he’d needed to be close to Harry again. Or maybe it was one of those decisions made in a moment of desperation, but he’d followed through, for Harry. He’d been ready to throw his life away to get Harry what he needed.
“He made our bond possible,” she choked out. Harry looked up sharply, hesitated, and nodded.
“Yes, he did.”
He wasn’t looking at her anymore. He’d tensed again. Our bond, and he’d stiffened up in a way she couldn’t ignore. He wasn’t sure he wanted it. Ginny’s throat closed. His duty, then, and she might have walked into it blindly, accepted it for what she wanted it to be. She knew in that instant that if she said nothing, if she just carried on, Harry would continue all the way to the finish and she would have him, because it was what had to be done to stop Voldemort. But not because he wanted to be with her.
The tide of Harry’s moods spoke silently about where his mind truly was, who his thoughts were with. Tears filled Ginny’s eyes and she was glad he was looking away, lost in whatever ruminations her last words had conjured. But she needed to see it one more time.
“I never thought…” —it was a struggle— “that Draco Malfoy would do it.”
Harry’s lips curved. One hand clenched into a fist and released.
I did.
He didn’t speak, but she heard it. Some silent pain lined his face, crossing the strange openness there, and what was left of Ginny’s resolve crumbled to dust there in her heart.
She had her answer, and it stung like a barb. It didn’t matter that Harry might not be aware, because she was aware. And now her foolish, righteous ultimatums for herself reared, spiking ache after ache, burying her under tears she had kept at bay. Tell him to bond with Draco instead, her brain mimicked. It’s what you’d planned.
She couldn’t. Couldn’t give him up like that, close the door so finally on what they had. She couldn’t give him to Draco Malfoy, couldn’t go through with her necessary sacrifice.
It was the one thing she had the power to give to Harry, and she was nothing in the face of her self-pity. She’d actually thought she would be able to do it. But then, she’d never really believed she’d have to, had she?
So selfish, all the way to the end.
“Harry.” Her voice cracked; the words weren’t going to come. Harry looked up, brow furrowed, and Ginny felt herself stumbling over an edge. She couldn’t say the words, so she found the next best thing.
“Harry, I thanked him.” Deep breath. “But he didn’t want it from me.” Like the last moments of a race, staving off collapse for one more crucial instant. “I think… Can you go thank him for me?”
Harry’s eyes widened. He straightened slowly, but she could see the energy, gliding and sparking through his frame at her words. “Are you alright here for a minute?”
She waved at him with one hand, unable to do more. “I’ll be fine. Don’t want him to think me ungr… grateful.”
Harry actually smiled at her, much wider and more adoring than anything she’d seen this night. “I’ll thank him for the both of us.” He crossed toward the door and glanced back, eyes warm. “Be back to take you to your room.”
Ginny nodded; already her chin was trembling. She watched him open the door and shut it again, leaving her with the crackling of the fire. Luna’s voice had silenced, a new sort of ward in its place, and in the quiet, Ginny wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed as hard as she could, trying to contain the sobs.
It didn’t take long before they rolled over her.
...
Chapter 14
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…
…
This chapter’s music: The song I’ve picked for Ginny in this chapter is Hebrides Lullaby, or Christ-Child’s Lullaby (traditional). I love the eerie quality of the melody, something that I believe defines most good lullabies. It’s quite sorrowful, when you think about it, and so lovely.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2007-05-18 07:01 am (UTC)From:*is filled with so much unfathomable GLEE*
*scurries off to read*
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Date: 2007-05-18 07:59 am (UTC)From:This chapter was just as intense as the last one. I'm loving Ginny's inner battle some more, but not so much her selfishness. But I totally get it. I really do. She's loved Harry for years. Why isn't she entitled to some happiness?
But, oh, how my heart breaks for Harry and Draco. I am completely dying for any Harry and Draco interaction. And I'm hoping we'll get some in the next chapter? Maybe? Possibly? *puppy eyes* Seriously, I can almost taste it.
This chapter was completely breathtaking, as always.
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From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-18 07:45 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-27 07:57 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-27 07:57 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-18 08:06 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-27 08:01 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-18 08:18 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-27 08:01 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-18 09:37 am (UTC)From:Here I was, sweating and waiting for 11 chapters and now it all goes so fast. I'm a bit overwhelmed.^^°
Loved this chapter. Loved the other chapters. (especially the end of part ten) Lots of Love for you.
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:03 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-18 12:52 pm (UTC)From:That building sweet anticipation thing doesn't work on me.
LOL
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:04 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-18 01:29 pm (UTC)From:OMG! I love you so much! I'm really hoping that is what I'm thinking (projects: HDHDHDHDHDHD).
Awesome as always! I so adore you!
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:06 am (UTC)From:Thank you for sticking with this story, luv. I really appreciate your reviews.
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Date: 2007-05-18 01:47 pm (UTC)From:Cant wait till the next chapter! XD
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:06 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-18 01:55 pm (UTC)From:I can't wait to read the next bit!
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:07 am (UTC)From:Thanks for reading!
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Date: 2007-05-18 02:00 pm (UTC)From:It's so wonderful and yet saddening to see what's been happening with the other characters in the war (like the twins and Hermione). Harry's thoughts...oh, I have always loved how you're able to get into everyone's heads so well!
And...Ginny, oh how I feel for you! Poor girl has all her illusions finally taken away by the very person she was hoping would validate them! And her thoughts were so very in-character! Selfish, yet I can understand it, even as I feast on every reaction Harry has to Draco (as seen through her eyes).
It's totally amazing how you've totally illuminated Harry's true feelings for both Ginny and Draco by his reactions and Ginny's reactions to them. So. Damn. Good! Now I'm totally not going to be good for work at all!!!
One of my favorite parts:
“I never… never thought…” —it was a struggle— “that Draco Malfoy would do it.”
Harry’s lips curved and his eyes focused. One hand clenched into a fist and released.
I did.
It...was so elegantly written and yet...the feeling it invokes is indescribable. Thank you for writing this and I definitely look forward to the next piece! Hopefully, I'll not be swamped with art projects for a while yet and we can chat on AIM over that other withstanding picture that I'm working for you! I really, really wanna work on it too!!!!! *screams and keels over, ded*
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:10 am (UTC)From:Be assured, I got your email about the "other" picture. *squeeees delightedly* I shall get back to you as soon as I can. I have been rushing around trying to finish my holidays exchange fic, but now it's done. Yay! *jumps around*
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Date: 2007-05-18 04:08 pm (UTC)From:I can not wait to read more of this!!!
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:10 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-18 04:51 pm (UTC)From:Ginny knows who Harry's heart belongs to, but won't say anything, or let Harry go willingly.
Harry knows who he's interested in, but won't make a play for him because he thinks he'll be rejected, or that Draco isn't interested.
Draco's heart is breaking for what he thinks he'd never get and knows the only way to protect himslf is to wrap himself up in anger and spite.
*WIBBLES* Looking forward to more of your exqusite knife twisting my heart.
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:12 am (UTC)From:Thank you for another treat of a review. More to come soon! ♥
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Date: 2007-05-18 06:49 pm (UTC)From:I read it this morning (7 hours ago here in Brazil) but I couldn't leave a comment 'cause I was in class. =P
Anyway...
AMAZING CHAPTER, my dear!
That little part where Harry let slip that bit of thought just... made my day. I'm so wondering how you'll manage to make him give himself the chance to be free from all these webs.
Ginny's reasoning is so real and touching. I do feel for her, and sometimes, I even see myself thinking exactly like her. It isn't easy.
But hey, I'm an H/D chipper, my compassion for her can only go so far. =D
I'm so curious to see Harry's thanking. Can't wait for the next part!
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Date: 2007-05-18 07:05 pm (UTC)From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
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Date: 2007-05-18 07:06 pm (UTC)From:...she could hear the faintest sound of rolling thunder outside. It almost sounded like the grinding of staircases. -- this is why you are such a fantastic writer.
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:15 am (UTC)From:(no subject)
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Date: 2007-05-18 09:28 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-27 08:16 am (UTC)From:Wow
Date: 2007-05-18 10:54 pm (UTC)From:I'm not a strong D/H or G/H shipper, so this story is extremely painful for me. I want them both to be happy. At this point, the story seems to have really focused on Ginny's thoughts, and so I'm pulling for her more atm (though she's clearly lost). But besides for a short handful of sentences, we don't know what happened to Harry and Draco to create that attraction. I'm sure the explaination will come soon, and then I'll be rooting for my boy (Draco!).
I love music for the chapters. You pick these songs so well.
I guess my only criticism is how much insight the reader gets into the character's thoughts. Funny, since I am usually quite heavy on the internal dialogue myself. I just feel that the external description of Ginny breaking down in the sitting room could have standed alone. I think the scene could have been more powerful without the reader knowing exactly what she was thinking. Of course, this is only one person's opinion. But I feel that such intimate knowledge of her thoughts cheapens her strife. It doesn't sit well with me, I can't really explain why. I guess I would like a bit more mystery about her sacrifice. Hmm, thinking about it now I guess that would make her more OOC. She's never really been focused on in the books, and to see her so well seems to remove that layer of mystery that surrounds her and makes her so popular (with both fans and the Gryffindor boys!)
Positive: I guess part I of your plot is winding down. I'm excited to see the next set of plots, and I am praying for Hermione's safe entrance into the castle! Trust me, I am quite fearful! Hermione, a death eater, and Seamus? What would happen to Blaise if he... OH I can't even say it! (haha)
Great chapter. And thanks for the speedy update!
(P.S. I kinda wish Ron lived. For Ginny's sake. And well, in fanfiction, Ron gets the short end of the stick...alot. Poor guy)
Re: Wow
Date: 2007-05-28 07:20 am (UTC)From:I find it intriguing that you dislike the intimacy with Ginny's thoughts. Most of the time it's the other way around, and people want to hear more. ^_^ I guess I couldn't see the scene carrying itself across as well if I left her reasoning in the dark. It wouldn't have seemed believable to me to have her just push Harry out the door without "explaining" her actions. And I don't want this to feel too convenient. It's not over yet by a long shot. She's acted, but she has yet to come to terms with that.
Heh, I don't usually keep Ron out of my stories. I love Ron. And actually, he's not really out of this story, but I'll get to that part eventually. ^_~ But yeah. Like Ginny, I think Ron becomes easy to demonize in fanfic, and that's very sad to me.
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Date: 2007-05-18 11:49 pm (UTC)From:“Oh, spare me your pity, Potter.”
Just.... GAH!!!!! Oh how I want to leave a coherent review, but I'm just a pool of angsty mush right now. Ginny's confusion, denial, anger, and despair are palpable. But overwhelmingly, the dynamic of Harry and Draco meeting is what ultimately sizzles. Ginny's internal war with doing the right thing vs. doing the selfish thing makes for very compelling drama.
But how do you fight true love? And is there ever a good enough reason to do so? These are the questions I hope the upcoming installments will answer.
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:19 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-19 05:53 am (UTC)From:I can't wait to see what happens next and especially what they say to each other when Harry goes to thank Draco. :D :D
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:22 am (UTC)From:Hehe, I think you may enjoy the next chapter then. ^_~
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Date: 2007-05-19 04:12 pm (UTC)From:That being said, I love the conflict Ginny feels in this chapter. How can you give up someone you love because it's the right thing to do? Whoever said, "If you love someone, you'll let them go," probably never had to do it. You capture the ache of her situation perfectly. And, of course, I'm very impatient for the upcoming HD goodness.
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:25 am (UTC)From:Thanks for commenting about Ginny. She's getting the raw end of the deal, I think... I hope you like the next chapter! Thanks for reading.
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Date: 2007-05-19 11:17 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-27 08:22 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-20 04:50 am (UTC)From:This chapter makes me feel bad for EVERYONE. But it's great and I can't wait to read the next one! :)
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:30 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-20 05:35 pm (UTC)From:But no matter how sorry and admiring I feel for Ginny, I want to see Harry and Draco together, as they are each other's true love.
Great chapter, very-very-very emotionally charged. You are a master of human emotions!
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Date: 2007-05-27 08:32 am (UTC)From:(no subject)
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Date: 2007-05-21 09:27 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-27 08:33 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-21 09:11 pm (UTC)From:The characters in the story (I almost wrote "movie" since I see the pictures in my mind that you painted for us in words) feels well rounded, in the sense that they are not written one-dimensionally, as they, especially the minor characters, may often be. I liked seeing from the point of view from Ginny because it gives her depth in her character and gives her more credit to what she goes through rather than just someone that is just in the way between the Harry and Draco since they are all emotionally involved. The pain that she is experiencing is vivid as she sees the three sides of this triangle while the other two are clueless about the other.
I'm not sure if any of that actually makes sense, since a lot is all jumble up in my brain. I just can't wait to really more of this story since I understand that it is going to be long ^_^.
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Date: 2007-05-28 07:26 am (UTC)From:Thank you, Grape! It makes me feel so good to know that your are liking the time jumping and the overall world info, that it's effective for you in reading the story, and that it's building upon the rest of the story. This fic is my current baby. It's very important for me to get it right, and you are making me very relieved.
This particularly: I see the pictures in my mind that you painted for us in words
That is such a wonderful thing for you to say. Thank you so much for it. It's very humbling to have you say that about my writing.