Ginny's Gift, Chapter 20
Rated: PG-13
Summary: Ginny gives Harry a special birthday present, but the consequences are unexpected.
"It's all my fault," Ginny repeated, her eyes welling with fresh tears.
"No, Ginny, don't say that."
"But it is."
Harry put his hands on her shoulders. "No, it isn't. It's no one's fault but Voldemort's." He knew he probably could have sounded more convincing, but that was only because he'd been entertaining similar thoughts to the ones she'd been voicing. She was looking at him wide-eyed and shaking her head, unbelieving.
Harry sighed. "Sit." Gently, he pushed her until she was seated on his bed. He sat down beside her and took her hands in his. "Ginny, your brother…" He swallowed before saying the name for the first time since he'd heard the news. "…Charlie knew what he was letting himself in for when he joined the Order. He knew it was going to be dangerous and that he might not come out of it alive. But he wouldn't've had it any other way. He was brave, you know he was. A true Gryffindor."
Harry had no idea where this was all coming from, but he hoped he could convince himself while he was at it. A lump was rapidly forming in his throat as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him once more. He swallowed hard and continued. "He knew this could happen, and yet he faced it anyway."
"Are you trying to blame this on Charlie?"
"No! Of course not! It's no one's fault but the Death Eater's who cast the killing curse on him!"
"Didn't Sirius tell you?"
"Tell me what?" Sirius may very well have told him, and he hadn't been listening.
"How it happened."
Harry shook his head.
"He saved your godfather, Harry. He jumped in front of Sirius so he wouldn't get hit."
"So you see? He was a true Gryffindor."
More tears were escaping, flowing silently now. Harry felt worse than ever. He was torn between feeling relief for Sirius and anger at Charlie's quick reflexes. Ginny swiped at her eyes, and Harry put his arms around her, rocking her gently. It was soothing to him as well.
"It's no good, Harry," she said after a while. "I can't get away from it."
"What?"
She pulled away from his embrace. "I could have saved him, Harry!" she wailed. "I could have made him a talisman. I could have made one for Bill. But I didn't. I was too selfish!"
Harry remembered Sirius stating in a letter that he'd run into both Bill and Charlie on the continent the previous autumn. Bill was still fighting for the Order somewhere. "Ginny…" he started to protest.
"No, it's true. I could have made him a talisman and saved his life, and instead I made one for Voldemort!"
Harry stared at her. She'd said the name, but he didn't think she'd even noticed.
"And all because I wanted to save myself the pain," she went on. "Well I haven't spared myself any pain, have I? It's just a different sort of pain!"
"Ginny, don't do this to yourself. What's done is done!"
She stood abruptly, her eyes flashing with anger. "No, it's not done! This isn't over by a long shot! You know Voldemort isn't going to stop!"
"Not unless someone stops him," Harry replied quietly, hoping she'd take the hint and calm down.
"Exactly!" She turned and started heading for the door.
"Wait!" Harry called after her in a panic. "Where do you think you're going?" He definitely didn't like the conclusions he'd been drawing based on her actions.
"To do what I can!"
He caught up to her and grabbed her wrist, drawing her back into the room. "Wait a minute, you can't go haring off like this!"
"Don't you tell me what I can and can't do, Harry Potter!"
Harry had no idea how this had escalated into a row, but it had. Ginny was staring daggers at him, and suddenly he felt as angry as she looked. He felt his face flush. "You could at least do me the courtesy of telling me what you're planning."
"Don't worry," she said sarcastically. "I'm not going to take your job away and challenge Voldemort."
"That's uncalled for!"
She went on, ignoring him. "Oh, no! Nothing so dramatic as that! But at least I can protect Bill."
"You're not considering making another talisman! Ginny, you're in a state. You're not in any condition…"
She crossed her arms over her chest. "And you're such an expert all of a sudden?"
"Ginny, you've just had a shock. Remember how long it took you to recover last time? And you've only just recovered. It looked to me like it took longer this time than it did last summer. What if it's worse this time?"
"That's a chance I'll have to take."
Harry wanted to curse the Weasley stubbornness, but some lucid part of his brain realised this wouldn't be wise. "No, you don't." He'd been struck by a sudden thought. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. He went to his bedside cabinet and rummaged until he'd found what he was looking for. "Here." He thrust the necklace at her. "Bill can have mine!"
"Harry, I made that for you!"
She wasn't going to look on this as a rejection of her, was she? "Ginny, it's nothing personal. I think it might be best if I don't keep this anymore. You know how it can block the pain in my scar. And I was wearing it over Christmas and forgot about it…"
"Oh, don't you start now! Anyway it doesn't matter. I made that for you. It won't work on anyone else. But if you don't appreciate it…"
A sob cut her off, and she turned, running into Ron, who had come in. "You realise we can hear you all the way down in the common room?"
Harry didn't reply. Ginny had already taken advantage of the interruption and run out. Harry clenched the necklace in his fist and pushed past Ron, leaving him to gape at an empty room.
Harry didn't even think about where he was going until he felt cold air stinging his cheeks and snow soaking into his trainers. Then he realised he'd found his way out onto the grounds without his cloak. It was already dark and a harsh wind was rising. He shivered, but he welcomed the discomfort. He kept walking, his mind completely blank until he came to the edge of the lake.
There he came to a halt and looked at the black water lapping at the ice-encrusted shore. He thought back over what had just happened up in the dormitory, trying to find the point at which things had degenerated. He had no idea what he'd done wrong, and he'd certainly never intended to upset Ginny further. None of them needed another reason to be upset.
He took his fist out of his pocket, and uncurled his fingers from around the necklace. The white gem glittered mockingly in the pale moonlight. In that instant he wished he'd never laid eyes on it. It seemed to stand for everything that was wrong at the moment. He looked from the necklace to the water and back again, strengthening his resolve. Then he closed his fingers over it again, raised his arm, and took a step back, intending to fling it has hard and as far as he could.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Harry. A day might come when you're going to need that."
The voice had interrupted him just before he could release the necklace. He dropped his arm and turned to face Dumbledore. The headmaster's face was cast mainly in shadow, causing the lines of care to appear even more deeply etched than usual. He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Times like these are never easy, especially for the family. Sometimes grief makes people say things they don't mean and do things they don't intend."
Harry didn't reply. The hand on his shoulder pressed down more firmly. Dumbledore began to walk, steering Harry back towards the castle. "Madam Pomfrey would have my head if I let you stand out here without a cloak. If we hurry up we can just about make supper. There's a nice, warming Lancashire hot pot on the menu, if I'm not mistaken."
Harry didn't feel much like eating, but he followed Dumbledore back to the castle anyway.
*
The next few days passed in a blur. A sort of numbness had settled back over Harry, much like it had when Sirius first told him the news. He didn't seek out his godfather; he didn't much feel like seeking out anyone at all. He went through the motions of rising and going to class, but inside he just felt cold.
For some reason, Charlie's death seemed to be affecting Harry even more than Hagrid's had, and he was having trouble working out why this should be. He'd known Hagrid better; he'd spent more time with him, both as a student and as a friend; he'd been through this other times with other people he'd known.
The way Hagrid had died wasn't even that much different. He had been sent as an envoy to the giants during the summer after Harry's fourth year to convince the giants not to join forces with Voldemort. Not all of them had listened, however. Some of them may have already been secretly allied with the Dark Lord. In any case, when Hagrid had returned to them the following summer, he'd been ambushed. Harry had been back at the Dursleys' with no one to comfort him, really, when he'd received the news. Arrangements had been made for Harry to attend the funeral at Hogwarts, and he'd seen Ron, Hermione and Sirius there. They'd got through that time together and had sustained each other through letters for the rest of the summer.
Maybe Harry had just forgotten the feeling of emptiness with the passing of time. Maybe it was the fact that Charlie had been so much younger. Or maybe it was because Ginny wasn't speaking to him. By all evidence, she hadn't disappeared somewhere to make Bill a talisman, but Harry had barely seen her. She refused to remain in the same room with him. On the rare occasions he'd managed to catch her eye for a fleeting moment, she'd looked closed off, not only to him, but to everyone. He would have loved more than anything else to be able to cast a spell on her and take that guardedness away, but there was a wall between them now, and he didn't know how to go about dismantling it.
It was now Saturday afternoon, and he and Ron were putting on their smartest school robes for the memorial, which was going to be held in the Great Hall. Neither one of them was saying much. The Weasleys were due to arrive any time now, and the reunion promised to be a sombre one indeed. Harry wasn't particularly looking forward to it.
There was a soft knock on the door, followed by Hermione, who stuck her head into the room. "Are you almost ready? They're here." She'd put her hair up, and her Head Girl badge looked especially shiny. Ron nodded and moved towards the door.
"You two go on," said Harry. "I'll be along in a moment."
As much as he wanted this day to be over with, he was suddenly reluctant to go down and face all the Weasleys. He waited until what he reckoned was the last possible moment before descending the dormitory steps. He was almost at the bottom when he heard voices coming from the common room.
"Ginny, your father and I don't blame you in the least for any of this."
It was Mrs Weasley. Harry froze on the last step. She was trying to talk Ginny out of feeling guilty, just as he had. This probably wasn't a good conversation to interrupt. Harry had visions of Ginny taking one look at him and leaving the room.
"But I could have saved him, Mum!" Ginny protested.
"It was the killing curse that hit Charlie. Nothing turns back the killing curse. You know that." Mrs Weasley sounded resigned.
Harry could have kicked himself for not thinking of that point himself. If only he'd paid attention to Sirius, he might have been prepared with that information. But then he'd never anticipated Ginny's reaction to the whole situation.
"Harry's talisman turned back the Cruciatus Curse in Diagon Alley last summer," Ginny was arguing.
There was a pause, and Harry imagined Mrs Weasley looking surprised. "The Cruciatus Curse may be an unforgivable curse, and a very strong one, but nothing can turn back the killing curse."
"Harry did as a baby." Ginny seemed to be grasping at straws now.
"That wasn't because of a talisman. In any case, they're not completely infallible. If anything had happened to Charlie while he was working with the dragons, a talisman wouldn't have saved him. It wouldn't make him invincible."
Harry was rather amazed that Mrs Weasley could talk about this so calmly, but perhaps she'd already made her peace. Or perhaps she was making a Herculean effort to hold herself together for Ginny's sake. He leaned out from the stairwell to try to catch a glimpse of her face, but her back was turned towards him.
Ginny, on the other hand, was facing the stairs, and he didn't think she'd appreciate him eavesdropping. His insides squirmed with guilt at what he was doing, and he ducked back into the stairwell. He knew he shouldn't be listening in, but he couldn't stop himself. He didn't want to interrupt, certainly, but he didn't want to retreat further up the stairs, where he couldn't hear what they were saying. Part of him may have been longing to hear Ginny say something that would give him some hope that she'd be willing to speak to him at some point.
"But Bill…" Ginny was trying to protest.
"Ginny, it's not going to do you any good to exhaust yourself again like that. And did you stop to think that the more of these things you make, the greater the chance of others finding out about this? Will you be able to turn away everyone who is going to ask for your help? You'll drive yourself to the grave with exhaustion in no time." Her voice was getting shaky as if she was reaching the limit of her control. There was a pause, and when she continued, she sounded much more composed. "Ginny, I have lost one child already. I'm not prepared to lose any more."
"Exactly, Mum, that's why you have to let me help Bill."
"Life during dark times like these is never certain, but we have to trust Bill to do what he must and take care of himself."
Harry thought he heard Ginny emit a small sob at this. "That's so difficult to do, Mum."
"I know it is, dear. Sometimes it's the most difficult of all."
Harry ventured another glance into the common room and saw mother and daughter hugging. He retreated quickly as they broke apart.
"Where's Harry in all this?" he heard Mrs Weasley ask. "I haven't seen him."
"Why would you ask me about him?" Ginny's voice had taken on a distinct edge.
"Why, from the look of things at Christmas, I thought…"
"You thought wrong, Mum. I don't want to talk about it. Come on, Mum, we're going to be late."
Harry hung back in the stairwell, stunned, until he heard them clamber through the portrait hole. Then he forced himself to make his own way down to the Great Hall, wishing he'd minded his own business.
The Great Hall looked different than it usually did. All the tables had been removed, replaced by chairs, and the house banners had been replaced by black drapes. Harry could see immediately that the entire school was not in attendance, but he hadn't expected it to be. The teachers were all present, of course, many of them having taught Charlie in his years at Hogwarts. The sixth and seventh year Gryffindors were all there, as well as the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, in support of Ron and Ginny. There were a few students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff: Harry recognised Ami, the girl Fred had been chatting up at the end of the previous term. Not a single Slytherin was there, but that was hardly surprising, and Harry was glad of it. There seemed to be a great many people Harry didn't know, but then he thought he recognised one of Charlie's friends from his first year when he'd got rid of Norbert for Hagrid.
The Weasley family were all seated, sombre-faced, in a semi-circle of chairs on the dais where the staff table normally stood. Harry could see Hermione sitting with Ron, Percy was with his wife Penelope, and George had brought Pauline. Fred and Bill had attended alone, while Ginny was seated between her parents. There was no place at her side for Harry.
A large black dog came up to him and licked his hand. It looked up at him pleadingly, whining a bit until Harry reached down and patted him. "Hello, Snuffles," he said.
Snuffles took Harry's sleeve in his mouth and jerked at it, leading him forward. Harry took the empty seat next to Ron, and immediately regretted doing so. He found himself facing Ginny across the dais, and she refused to meet his gaze. But it was too late to change places now. The memorial was beginning.
Dumbledore seemed to appear from nowhere and came to stand in the middle of the dais, temporarily blocking Harry's view of Ginny. "We have assembled here today to commemorate the life of Charles Weasley. To some of us he was family, to others a friend, student or colleague, but to all of us he will ever be a hero. He is not the first to fall, nor will he be the last, unfortunately, but we owe it to him, to ourselves and to the future to remember how he chose to live."
The headmaster stepped aside then, as one by one, people who had known Charlie well stepped forward and shared their memories: memories of dragon taming in Romania, of Hogsmeade weekends with friends, of Gryffindor Quidditch victories, of midnight wanderings around the halls of Hogwarts. Those who had spent time chasing Death Eaters with him on the continent told of how he always managed to keep everyone's spirits up when things looked grim. Bill stood the last and shared his childhood memories of growing up the eldest, always having to keep an eye on his younger brother, his "partner in crime", and laughing over the trouble that inevitably managed to find the two of them.
When he'd finished Dumbledore came forward again, unrolling a piece of parchment. "I was asked to share this with you," he said. "The author was unable to attend, unfortunately. We have heard about Charlie's life. Now we must all steel ourselves and face the manner in which he died. It, as much as anything else, tells us what sort of person Charlie chose to be."
Harry listened as Dumbledore began to read an account of Charlie's last mission, describing how they'd had intelligence about a group of Death Eaters operating in Kent, a group that could possibly lead them to Voldemort himself. The Death Eaters had been planning attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns in the area, and Charlie's group had managed to locate the house they'd been using as their base of operations. Charlie's group had surrounded the house and watched it, before carefully planning an attack designed to surprise the enemy when the majority was present. The operation had begun well, but somehow one of the Death Eaters had managed to put out a call for reinforcements. Charlie and his colleagues were caught unawares, but all continued to fight valiantly, stunning the new arrivals, so that they too could be taken into custody. All but one, that is. That one had remained hidden, suddenly jumping out from under cover, sending a powerful Reductor Curse, which had caught one of their number in the explosion, before turning on the author of the letter with the killing curse. But for Charlie's jumping between the author and the spell, it would have been the author who had died that day.
Harry had long since realised that Sirius was the author of that parchment, but he'd noticed no other names had been mentioned. He reckoned that Remus Lupin had been the one caught by the Reductor Curse, and that was how he'd come to be badly injured. Harry was tempted to reach down and pat Snuffles, who had lain on the floor at Harry's feet at the beginning of the memorial, but Harry didn't want to give anything away. Even here at Hogwarts, it looked as if security was still of the utmost importance. Snuffles was now lying flat on the floor with his nose between his paws. Harry thought if a dog could cry, then Snuffles would be doing just that.
"The author of this parchment must remain anonymous," Dumbledore was concluding, but the Weasley family knows his identity."
Harry was surprised at what happened next. Dumbledore waved his wand, and two things happened. First, a tankard appeared floating on the air in front of him and everyone else in the hall. At the same time a haunting melody began to play upon unseen instruments, filling the hall and piercing Harry's heart.
Dumbledore took his tankard, while the others followed suit, and then he began to sing. Those that knew the song took it up as well. The Weasley family all seemed to be familiar with it; Harry could hear Ron attempting to follow in a croaky voice. Looking about, Harry also noticed Seamus Finnegan singing along. Harry did not know the words, so he merely listened, trying to pick them up.
Oh, all the money e'er I had, I spent it in good company.
And all the harm that ever I've done, alas it was to none but me.
And all I've done for want of wit to mem'ry now I can't recall;
So fill to me the parting glass, Good night and joy be with you all.
Harry's eyes settled on Ginny. She was looking at the floor, tears quietly slipping down her cheeks, as she bravely tried to follow. He willed her to look up at him, to at least make eye contact and acknowledge his presence, but she continued to look steadily downwards. He wondered if she could sense he was watching her. It felt as if his heart was expanding in his chest until it broke. She never had told him she loved him, had she? Perhaps it was because she was being honest. His eyes began to sting, and he looked up at the ceiling, which reflected the low, grey clouds of the day outside.
Oh, all the comrades e'er I had, they're sorry for my going away.
And all the sweethearts e'er I had, they'd wished me one more day to stay.
But since it falls unto my lot, that I should rise and you should not,
I gently rise and softly call, Goodnight and joy be with you all.
"Joy be with you all," Harry thought bitterly. At the moment it felt as if he'd never again have anything to feel joyful about. The music ended, and everyone was raising his tankard. Harry did the same, remembering how he'd raised his goblet in memory of Cedric Diggory at the end of his fourth year. Cedric had been the first; other students were now gone from the school as well: Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbot, others from other years he did not know. Along with everyone else, he drank deeply of a bitter ale that burned its way down to his stomach. He grimaced at the taste but welcomed it all the same. It went perfectly with how he felt.
The next hour or so passed in a whirl of people expressing their sympathies to the Weasley family, none of whom had managed to make it through the memorial dry-eyed. Harry had been among the first to approach Mr and Mrs Weasley. He hadn't really known what to say to either of them, but his words must have been appropriate enough, for Mrs Weasley had thrown herself on him, almost suffocating him. When she'd released him, she said, "Oh, Harry, you've become just like one of my own."
After that he'd felt rather obligated to stand with the rest of the family, although he found it increasingly uncomfortable. Snuffles had stayed with him the entire time, and Harry was grateful for his presence, although that, too, was adding to his discomfort.
He'd been thinking about how Sirius must feel to know he was still alive because someone else had sacrificed himself. That couldn't be easy; in fact Harry knew from experience that it wasn't and easy thing to face, because he'd faced the same reality himself at the end of his first year. Now that the full realisation of what his godfather must be going through had hit him, he regretted not asking to see Sirius over the preceding days. Harry was sure Sirius would be leaving soon, and the opportunity to talk to him was running short. In any case, they couldn't do it here.
Harry suddenly felt stifled by it all. He had to get away. He looked down to see Snuffles watching him as if he could read Harry's thoughts. Harry reached down and patted him, and then he allowed himself to melt back into the crowd and sidle towards the door. Snuffles followed.
Harry headed out onto the grounds without a cloak once more. They wouldn't be able to remain outdoors in any case, because they'd need a hiding place for Sirius to transform. Harry thought of Hagrid's old cabin and began walking in that direction.
The cabin had remained unoccupied since Hagrid's death. The new groundskeeper lived somewhere in the main castle, as did Professor Grubbly-Plank, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher. Care of Magical Creatures classes were still held outside the cabin, and occasionally Professor Grubbly-Plank would use it to temporarily house some of the smaller specimens studied in class. Harry was sure that he and Sirius could use the cabin without fear of interruption.
He unlocked the door with his wand and went in. It looked oddly unchanged from the time when Hagrid had lived in it. The only things missing seemed to be the hams hanging from the ceiling. The enormous bed with its bright quilt still stood in the corner, and there was the table near the fireplace, which, while cold, contained seemed to contain quite a few ashes. Harry remembered that Professor Grubbly-Plank had recently been keeping a cage of Fwoopers in here. They were tropical birds, and needed to be kept warm.
Snuffles followed Harry through the door and transformed as soon as it was closed again. "Harry, how have you been?" he asked, concerned.
Harry didn't feel as if he ought to burden Sirius any further, so he lied. "Fine."
Sirius looked at him sceptically, but did not comment. Instead he opted for a new topic. "I heard from Professor Dumbledore that you had quite an adventure over Christmas."
Harry nodded. That seemed a safe enough subject as long as he steered away from his feelings for Ginny. So he recounted the story, making an effort to keep his face and tone neutral.
When he'd finished, Sirius was shaking his head, amazed. "I don't suppose it would do any good to tell you to stay out of trouble."
Harry almost smiled at that. "You're taking this very hard, aren't you?" Sirius asked.
But Harry still didn't feel as if they should be talking about him. He'd spent too much time these past days thinking about how bad he'd been feeling, and he felt angry with himself for being so selfish. "I'll get over it. It can't be easy on you, what Charlie did."
Sirius sighed, and when he spoke, he sounded resigned. "No, it's not, but I've had to learn to deal with a lot of hard truths in my life. I'll manage with this, as well. But…"
He might have gone on, but there was a sudden noise outside the cabin. Someone was coming. Before Harry could even react, Sirius had changed back into a dog. In the next instant, Professor Grubbly-Plank was standing in the doorway, looking surprised.
"Potter, what are you doing here?" Then she looked around. "I thought I heard voices."
"Sorry, Professor I just had to get away from… things for a bit. I suppose you heard me talking to Snuffles here."
She looked sharply at Snuffles. "And just what was a dog doing at a memorial?"
Harry thought quickly. Why hadn't he realised himself how strange it would look for a dog to attend a memorial? "He belongs to the Weasleys. Professor Dumbledore insisted the entire family attend. And then, well, I thought he'd like to get out of the castle for a bit, in case, you know… And none of the family members could take him. And well, I didn't have my cloak, so I thought I'd warm up a bit in here…"
This seemed to be sufficient explanation for Professor Grubbly-Plank, for she replied, "I'm going to have to ask you to take him out of here, I'm afraid. I'm expecting to get some Diricawls in, and if they notice the scent of dog in here, they may decide to disappear on me. As it is, I'm going to have to clean in here."
"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "We'll just be off then. Come on, Snuffles."
They made their way back up to the castle then, while Professor Grubbly-Plank remained behind, and, Harry assumed, removed the traces of dog scent from the cabin. But Snuffles wouldn't enter the castle. He sat down on the steps and looked up at Harry with sad eyes. Harry realised he had to leave again. He wished now that they'd had more time to talk, but it wasn't to be. Harry bent down and hugged Snuffles about the neck before giving him a final pat and entering the castle alone.
A/N: The lyrics quoted (in italics in the text) are from a traditional Irish ballad entitled "The Parting Glass". I first heard this on the soundtrack to the film Waking Ned Devine, but I'm sure it's recorded in other places. I actually looked up the lyrics on a Shane MacGowan website.
Thanks for your continued support. I hope this will be the most difficult chapter. Honestly, I set out to write more fluff than angst; it just didn't turn out that way.
Chapter 21
Summary: Ginny gives Harry a special birthday present, but the consequences are unexpected.
"It's all my fault," Ginny repeated, her eyes welling with fresh tears.
"No, Ginny, don't say that."
"But it is."
Harry put his hands on her shoulders. "No, it isn't. It's no one's fault but Voldemort's." He knew he probably could have sounded more convincing, but that was only because he'd been entertaining similar thoughts to the ones she'd been voicing. She was looking at him wide-eyed and shaking her head, unbelieving.
Harry sighed. "Sit." Gently, he pushed her until she was seated on his bed. He sat down beside her and took her hands in his. "Ginny, your brother…" He swallowed before saying the name for the first time since he'd heard the news. "…Charlie knew what he was letting himself in for when he joined the Order. He knew it was going to be dangerous and that he might not come out of it alive. But he wouldn't've had it any other way. He was brave, you know he was. A true Gryffindor."
Harry had no idea where this was all coming from, but he hoped he could convince himself while he was at it. A lump was rapidly forming in his throat as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him once more. He swallowed hard and continued. "He knew this could happen, and yet he faced it anyway."
"Are you trying to blame this on Charlie?"
"No! Of course not! It's no one's fault but the Death Eater's who cast the killing curse on him!"
"Didn't Sirius tell you?"
"Tell me what?" Sirius may very well have told him, and he hadn't been listening.
"How it happened."
Harry shook his head.
"He saved your godfather, Harry. He jumped in front of Sirius so he wouldn't get hit."
"So you see? He was a true Gryffindor."
More tears were escaping, flowing silently now. Harry felt worse than ever. He was torn between feeling relief for Sirius and anger at Charlie's quick reflexes. Ginny swiped at her eyes, and Harry put his arms around her, rocking her gently. It was soothing to him as well.
"It's no good, Harry," she said after a while. "I can't get away from it."
"What?"
She pulled away from his embrace. "I could have saved him, Harry!" she wailed. "I could have made him a talisman. I could have made one for Bill. But I didn't. I was too selfish!"
Harry remembered Sirius stating in a letter that he'd run into both Bill and Charlie on the continent the previous autumn. Bill was still fighting for the Order somewhere. "Ginny…" he started to protest.
"No, it's true. I could have made him a talisman and saved his life, and instead I made one for Voldemort!"
Harry stared at her. She'd said the name, but he didn't think she'd even noticed.
"And all because I wanted to save myself the pain," she went on. "Well I haven't spared myself any pain, have I? It's just a different sort of pain!"
"Ginny, don't do this to yourself. What's done is done!"
She stood abruptly, her eyes flashing with anger. "No, it's not done! This isn't over by a long shot! You know Voldemort isn't going to stop!"
"Not unless someone stops him," Harry replied quietly, hoping she'd take the hint and calm down.
"Exactly!" She turned and started heading for the door.
"Wait!" Harry called after her in a panic. "Where do you think you're going?" He definitely didn't like the conclusions he'd been drawing based on her actions.
"To do what I can!"
He caught up to her and grabbed her wrist, drawing her back into the room. "Wait a minute, you can't go haring off like this!"
"Don't you tell me what I can and can't do, Harry Potter!"
Harry had no idea how this had escalated into a row, but it had. Ginny was staring daggers at him, and suddenly he felt as angry as she looked. He felt his face flush. "You could at least do me the courtesy of telling me what you're planning."
"Don't worry," she said sarcastically. "I'm not going to take your job away and challenge Voldemort."
"That's uncalled for!"
She went on, ignoring him. "Oh, no! Nothing so dramatic as that! But at least I can protect Bill."
"You're not considering making another talisman! Ginny, you're in a state. You're not in any condition…"
She crossed her arms over her chest. "And you're such an expert all of a sudden?"
"Ginny, you've just had a shock. Remember how long it took you to recover last time? And you've only just recovered. It looked to me like it took longer this time than it did last summer. What if it's worse this time?"
"That's a chance I'll have to take."
Harry wanted to curse the Weasley stubbornness, but some lucid part of his brain realised this wouldn't be wise. "No, you don't." He'd been struck by a sudden thought. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. He went to his bedside cabinet and rummaged until he'd found what he was looking for. "Here." He thrust the necklace at her. "Bill can have mine!"
"Harry, I made that for you!"
She wasn't going to look on this as a rejection of her, was she? "Ginny, it's nothing personal. I think it might be best if I don't keep this anymore. You know how it can block the pain in my scar. And I was wearing it over Christmas and forgot about it…"
"Oh, don't you start now! Anyway it doesn't matter. I made that for you. It won't work on anyone else. But if you don't appreciate it…"
A sob cut her off, and she turned, running into Ron, who had come in. "You realise we can hear you all the way down in the common room?"
Harry didn't reply. Ginny had already taken advantage of the interruption and run out. Harry clenched the necklace in his fist and pushed past Ron, leaving him to gape at an empty room.
Harry didn't even think about where he was going until he felt cold air stinging his cheeks and snow soaking into his trainers. Then he realised he'd found his way out onto the grounds without his cloak. It was already dark and a harsh wind was rising. He shivered, but he welcomed the discomfort. He kept walking, his mind completely blank until he came to the edge of the lake.
There he came to a halt and looked at the black water lapping at the ice-encrusted shore. He thought back over what had just happened up in the dormitory, trying to find the point at which things had degenerated. He had no idea what he'd done wrong, and he'd certainly never intended to upset Ginny further. None of them needed another reason to be upset.
He took his fist out of his pocket, and uncurled his fingers from around the necklace. The white gem glittered mockingly in the pale moonlight. In that instant he wished he'd never laid eyes on it. It seemed to stand for everything that was wrong at the moment. He looked from the necklace to the water and back again, strengthening his resolve. Then he closed his fingers over it again, raised his arm, and took a step back, intending to fling it has hard and as far as he could.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Harry. A day might come when you're going to need that."
The voice had interrupted him just before he could release the necklace. He dropped his arm and turned to face Dumbledore. The headmaster's face was cast mainly in shadow, causing the lines of care to appear even more deeply etched than usual. He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Times like these are never easy, especially for the family. Sometimes grief makes people say things they don't mean and do things they don't intend."
Harry didn't reply. The hand on his shoulder pressed down more firmly. Dumbledore began to walk, steering Harry back towards the castle. "Madam Pomfrey would have my head if I let you stand out here without a cloak. If we hurry up we can just about make supper. There's a nice, warming Lancashire hot pot on the menu, if I'm not mistaken."
Harry didn't feel much like eating, but he followed Dumbledore back to the castle anyway.
*
The next few days passed in a blur. A sort of numbness had settled back over Harry, much like it had when Sirius first told him the news. He didn't seek out his godfather; he didn't much feel like seeking out anyone at all. He went through the motions of rising and going to class, but inside he just felt cold.
For some reason, Charlie's death seemed to be affecting Harry even more than Hagrid's had, and he was having trouble working out why this should be. He'd known Hagrid better; he'd spent more time with him, both as a student and as a friend; he'd been through this other times with other people he'd known.
The way Hagrid had died wasn't even that much different. He had been sent as an envoy to the giants during the summer after Harry's fourth year to convince the giants not to join forces with Voldemort. Not all of them had listened, however. Some of them may have already been secretly allied with the Dark Lord. In any case, when Hagrid had returned to them the following summer, he'd been ambushed. Harry had been back at the Dursleys' with no one to comfort him, really, when he'd received the news. Arrangements had been made for Harry to attend the funeral at Hogwarts, and he'd seen Ron, Hermione and Sirius there. They'd got through that time together and had sustained each other through letters for the rest of the summer.
Maybe Harry had just forgotten the feeling of emptiness with the passing of time. Maybe it was the fact that Charlie had been so much younger. Or maybe it was because Ginny wasn't speaking to him. By all evidence, she hadn't disappeared somewhere to make Bill a talisman, but Harry had barely seen her. She refused to remain in the same room with him. On the rare occasions he'd managed to catch her eye for a fleeting moment, she'd looked closed off, not only to him, but to everyone. He would have loved more than anything else to be able to cast a spell on her and take that guardedness away, but there was a wall between them now, and he didn't know how to go about dismantling it.
It was now Saturday afternoon, and he and Ron were putting on their smartest school robes for the memorial, which was going to be held in the Great Hall. Neither one of them was saying much. The Weasleys were due to arrive any time now, and the reunion promised to be a sombre one indeed. Harry wasn't particularly looking forward to it.
There was a soft knock on the door, followed by Hermione, who stuck her head into the room. "Are you almost ready? They're here." She'd put her hair up, and her Head Girl badge looked especially shiny. Ron nodded and moved towards the door.
"You two go on," said Harry. "I'll be along in a moment."
As much as he wanted this day to be over with, he was suddenly reluctant to go down and face all the Weasleys. He waited until what he reckoned was the last possible moment before descending the dormitory steps. He was almost at the bottom when he heard voices coming from the common room.
"Ginny, your father and I don't blame you in the least for any of this."
It was Mrs Weasley. Harry froze on the last step. She was trying to talk Ginny out of feeling guilty, just as he had. This probably wasn't a good conversation to interrupt. Harry had visions of Ginny taking one look at him and leaving the room.
"But I could have saved him, Mum!" Ginny protested.
"It was the killing curse that hit Charlie. Nothing turns back the killing curse. You know that." Mrs Weasley sounded resigned.
Harry could have kicked himself for not thinking of that point himself. If only he'd paid attention to Sirius, he might have been prepared with that information. But then he'd never anticipated Ginny's reaction to the whole situation.
"Harry's talisman turned back the Cruciatus Curse in Diagon Alley last summer," Ginny was arguing.
There was a pause, and Harry imagined Mrs Weasley looking surprised. "The Cruciatus Curse may be an unforgivable curse, and a very strong one, but nothing can turn back the killing curse."
"Harry did as a baby." Ginny seemed to be grasping at straws now.
"That wasn't because of a talisman. In any case, they're not completely infallible. If anything had happened to Charlie while he was working with the dragons, a talisman wouldn't have saved him. It wouldn't make him invincible."
Harry was rather amazed that Mrs Weasley could talk about this so calmly, but perhaps she'd already made her peace. Or perhaps she was making a Herculean effort to hold herself together for Ginny's sake. He leaned out from the stairwell to try to catch a glimpse of her face, but her back was turned towards him.
Ginny, on the other hand, was facing the stairs, and he didn't think she'd appreciate him eavesdropping. His insides squirmed with guilt at what he was doing, and he ducked back into the stairwell. He knew he shouldn't be listening in, but he couldn't stop himself. He didn't want to interrupt, certainly, but he didn't want to retreat further up the stairs, where he couldn't hear what they were saying. Part of him may have been longing to hear Ginny say something that would give him some hope that she'd be willing to speak to him at some point.
"But Bill…" Ginny was trying to protest.
"Ginny, it's not going to do you any good to exhaust yourself again like that. And did you stop to think that the more of these things you make, the greater the chance of others finding out about this? Will you be able to turn away everyone who is going to ask for your help? You'll drive yourself to the grave with exhaustion in no time." Her voice was getting shaky as if she was reaching the limit of her control. There was a pause, and when she continued, she sounded much more composed. "Ginny, I have lost one child already. I'm not prepared to lose any more."
"Exactly, Mum, that's why you have to let me help Bill."
"Life during dark times like these is never certain, but we have to trust Bill to do what he must and take care of himself."
Harry thought he heard Ginny emit a small sob at this. "That's so difficult to do, Mum."
"I know it is, dear. Sometimes it's the most difficult of all."
Harry ventured another glance into the common room and saw mother and daughter hugging. He retreated quickly as they broke apart.
"Where's Harry in all this?" he heard Mrs Weasley ask. "I haven't seen him."
"Why would you ask me about him?" Ginny's voice had taken on a distinct edge.
"Why, from the look of things at Christmas, I thought…"
"You thought wrong, Mum. I don't want to talk about it. Come on, Mum, we're going to be late."
Harry hung back in the stairwell, stunned, until he heard them clamber through the portrait hole. Then he forced himself to make his own way down to the Great Hall, wishing he'd minded his own business.
The Great Hall looked different than it usually did. All the tables had been removed, replaced by chairs, and the house banners had been replaced by black drapes. Harry could see immediately that the entire school was not in attendance, but he hadn't expected it to be. The teachers were all present, of course, many of them having taught Charlie in his years at Hogwarts. The sixth and seventh year Gryffindors were all there, as well as the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, in support of Ron and Ginny. There were a few students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff: Harry recognised Ami, the girl Fred had been chatting up at the end of the previous term. Not a single Slytherin was there, but that was hardly surprising, and Harry was glad of it. There seemed to be a great many people Harry didn't know, but then he thought he recognised one of Charlie's friends from his first year when he'd got rid of Norbert for Hagrid.
The Weasley family were all seated, sombre-faced, in a semi-circle of chairs on the dais where the staff table normally stood. Harry could see Hermione sitting with Ron, Percy was with his wife Penelope, and George had brought Pauline. Fred and Bill had attended alone, while Ginny was seated between her parents. There was no place at her side for Harry.
A large black dog came up to him and licked his hand. It looked up at him pleadingly, whining a bit until Harry reached down and patted him. "Hello, Snuffles," he said.
Snuffles took Harry's sleeve in his mouth and jerked at it, leading him forward. Harry took the empty seat next to Ron, and immediately regretted doing so. He found himself facing Ginny across the dais, and she refused to meet his gaze. But it was too late to change places now. The memorial was beginning.
Dumbledore seemed to appear from nowhere and came to stand in the middle of the dais, temporarily blocking Harry's view of Ginny. "We have assembled here today to commemorate the life of Charles Weasley. To some of us he was family, to others a friend, student or colleague, but to all of us he will ever be a hero. He is not the first to fall, nor will he be the last, unfortunately, but we owe it to him, to ourselves and to the future to remember how he chose to live."
The headmaster stepped aside then, as one by one, people who had known Charlie well stepped forward and shared their memories: memories of dragon taming in Romania, of Hogsmeade weekends with friends, of Gryffindor Quidditch victories, of midnight wanderings around the halls of Hogwarts. Those who had spent time chasing Death Eaters with him on the continent told of how he always managed to keep everyone's spirits up when things looked grim. Bill stood the last and shared his childhood memories of growing up the eldest, always having to keep an eye on his younger brother, his "partner in crime", and laughing over the trouble that inevitably managed to find the two of them.
When he'd finished Dumbledore came forward again, unrolling a piece of parchment. "I was asked to share this with you," he said. "The author was unable to attend, unfortunately. We have heard about Charlie's life. Now we must all steel ourselves and face the manner in which he died. It, as much as anything else, tells us what sort of person Charlie chose to be."
Harry listened as Dumbledore began to read an account of Charlie's last mission, describing how they'd had intelligence about a group of Death Eaters operating in Kent, a group that could possibly lead them to Voldemort himself. The Death Eaters had been planning attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns in the area, and Charlie's group had managed to locate the house they'd been using as their base of operations. Charlie's group had surrounded the house and watched it, before carefully planning an attack designed to surprise the enemy when the majority was present. The operation had begun well, but somehow one of the Death Eaters had managed to put out a call for reinforcements. Charlie and his colleagues were caught unawares, but all continued to fight valiantly, stunning the new arrivals, so that they too could be taken into custody. All but one, that is. That one had remained hidden, suddenly jumping out from under cover, sending a powerful Reductor Curse, which had caught one of their number in the explosion, before turning on the author of the letter with the killing curse. But for Charlie's jumping between the author and the spell, it would have been the author who had died that day.
Harry had long since realised that Sirius was the author of that parchment, but he'd noticed no other names had been mentioned. He reckoned that Remus Lupin had been the one caught by the Reductor Curse, and that was how he'd come to be badly injured. Harry was tempted to reach down and pat Snuffles, who had lain on the floor at Harry's feet at the beginning of the memorial, but Harry didn't want to give anything away. Even here at Hogwarts, it looked as if security was still of the utmost importance. Snuffles was now lying flat on the floor with his nose between his paws. Harry thought if a dog could cry, then Snuffles would be doing just that.
"The author of this parchment must remain anonymous," Dumbledore was concluding, but the Weasley family knows his identity."
Harry was surprised at what happened next. Dumbledore waved his wand, and two things happened. First, a tankard appeared floating on the air in front of him and everyone else in the hall. At the same time a haunting melody began to play upon unseen instruments, filling the hall and piercing Harry's heart.
Dumbledore took his tankard, while the others followed suit, and then he began to sing. Those that knew the song took it up as well. The Weasley family all seemed to be familiar with it; Harry could hear Ron attempting to follow in a croaky voice. Looking about, Harry also noticed Seamus Finnegan singing along. Harry did not know the words, so he merely listened, trying to pick them up.
Oh, all the money e'er I had, I spent it in good company.
And all the harm that ever I've done, alas it was to none but me.
And all I've done for want of wit to mem'ry now I can't recall;
So fill to me the parting glass, Good night and joy be with you all.
Harry's eyes settled on Ginny. She was looking at the floor, tears quietly slipping down her cheeks, as she bravely tried to follow. He willed her to look up at him, to at least make eye contact and acknowledge his presence, but she continued to look steadily downwards. He wondered if she could sense he was watching her. It felt as if his heart was expanding in his chest until it broke. She never had told him she loved him, had she? Perhaps it was because she was being honest. His eyes began to sting, and he looked up at the ceiling, which reflected the low, grey clouds of the day outside.
Oh, all the comrades e'er I had, they're sorry for my going away.
And all the sweethearts e'er I had, they'd wished me one more day to stay.
But since it falls unto my lot, that I should rise and you should not,
I gently rise and softly call, Goodnight and joy be with you all.
"Joy be with you all," Harry thought bitterly. At the moment it felt as if he'd never again have anything to feel joyful about. The music ended, and everyone was raising his tankard. Harry did the same, remembering how he'd raised his goblet in memory of Cedric Diggory at the end of his fourth year. Cedric had been the first; other students were now gone from the school as well: Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbot, others from other years he did not know. Along with everyone else, he drank deeply of a bitter ale that burned its way down to his stomach. He grimaced at the taste but welcomed it all the same. It went perfectly with how he felt.
The next hour or so passed in a whirl of people expressing their sympathies to the Weasley family, none of whom had managed to make it through the memorial dry-eyed. Harry had been among the first to approach Mr and Mrs Weasley. He hadn't really known what to say to either of them, but his words must have been appropriate enough, for Mrs Weasley had thrown herself on him, almost suffocating him. When she'd released him, she said, "Oh, Harry, you've become just like one of my own."
After that he'd felt rather obligated to stand with the rest of the family, although he found it increasingly uncomfortable. Snuffles had stayed with him the entire time, and Harry was grateful for his presence, although that, too, was adding to his discomfort.
He'd been thinking about how Sirius must feel to know he was still alive because someone else had sacrificed himself. That couldn't be easy; in fact Harry knew from experience that it wasn't and easy thing to face, because he'd faced the same reality himself at the end of his first year. Now that the full realisation of what his godfather must be going through had hit him, he regretted not asking to see Sirius over the preceding days. Harry was sure Sirius would be leaving soon, and the opportunity to talk to him was running short. In any case, they couldn't do it here.
Harry suddenly felt stifled by it all. He had to get away. He looked down to see Snuffles watching him as if he could read Harry's thoughts. Harry reached down and patted him, and then he allowed himself to melt back into the crowd and sidle towards the door. Snuffles followed.
Harry headed out onto the grounds without a cloak once more. They wouldn't be able to remain outdoors in any case, because they'd need a hiding place for Sirius to transform. Harry thought of Hagrid's old cabin and began walking in that direction.
The cabin had remained unoccupied since Hagrid's death. The new groundskeeper lived somewhere in the main castle, as did Professor Grubbly-Plank, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher. Care of Magical Creatures classes were still held outside the cabin, and occasionally Professor Grubbly-Plank would use it to temporarily house some of the smaller specimens studied in class. Harry was sure that he and Sirius could use the cabin without fear of interruption.
He unlocked the door with his wand and went in. It looked oddly unchanged from the time when Hagrid had lived in it. The only things missing seemed to be the hams hanging from the ceiling. The enormous bed with its bright quilt still stood in the corner, and there was the table near the fireplace, which, while cold, contained seemed to contain quite a few ashes. Harry remembered that Professor Grubbly-Plank had recently been keeping a cage of Fwoopers in here. They were tropical birds, and needed to be kept warm.
Snuffles followed Harry through the door and transformed as soon as it was closed again. "Harry, how have you been?" he asked, concerned.
Harry didn't feel as if he ought to burden Sirius any further, so he lied. "Fine."
Sirius looked at him sceptically, but did not comment. Instead he opted for a new topic. "I heard from Professor Dumbledore that you had quite an adventure over Christmas."
Harry nodded. That seemed a safe enough subject as long as he steered away from his feelings for Ginny. So he recounted the story, making an effort to keep his face and tone neutral.
When he'd finished, Sirius was shaking his head, amazed. "I don't suppose it would do any good to tell you to stay out of trouble."
Harry almost smiled at that. "You're taking this very hard, aren't you?" Sirius asked.
But Harry still didn't feel as if they should be talking about him. He'd spent too much time these past days thinking about how bad he'd been feeling, and he felt angry with himself for being so selfish. "I'll get over it. It can't be easy on you, what Charlie did."
Sirius sighed, and when he spoke, he sounded resigned. "No, it's not, but I've had to learn to deal with a lot of hard truths in my life. I'll manage with this, as well. But…"
He might have gone on, but there was a sudden noise outside the cabin. Someone was coming. Before Harry could even react, Sirius had changed back into a dog. In the next instant, Professor Grubbly-Plank was standing in the doorway, looking surprised.
"Potter, what are you doing here?" Then she looked around. "I thought I heard voices."
"Sorry, Professor I just had to get away from… things for a bit. I suppose you heard me talking to Snuffles here."
She looked sharply at Snuffles. "And just what was a dog doing at a memorial?"
Harry thought quickly. Why hadn't he realised himself how strange it would look for a dog to attend a memorial? "He belongs to the Weasleys. Professor Dumbledore insisted the entire family attend. And then, well, I thought he'd like to get out of the castle for a bit, in case, you know… And none of the family members could take him. And well, I didn't have my cloak, so I thought I'd warm up a bit in here…"
This seemed to be sufficient explanation for Professor Grubbly-Plank, for she replied, "I'm going to have to ask you to take him out of here, I'm afraid. I'm expecting to get some Diricawls in, and if they notice the scent of dog in here, they may decide to disappear on me. As it is, I'm going to have to clean in here."
"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "We'll just be off then. Come on, Snuffles."
They made their way back up to the castle then, while Professor Grubbly-Plank remained behind, and, Harry assumed, removed the traces of dog scent from the cabin. But Snuffles wouldn't enter the castle. He sat down on the steps and looked up at Harry with sad eyes. Harry realised he had to leave again. He wished now that they'd had more time to talk, but it wasn't to be. Harry bent down and hugged Snuffles about the neck before giving him a final pat and entering the castle alone.
A/N: The lyrics quoted (in italics in the text) are from a traditional Irish ballad entitled "The Parting Glass". I first heard this on the soundtrack to the film Waking Ned Devine, but I'm sure it's recorded in other places. I actually looked up the lyrics on a Shane MacGowan website.
Thanks for your continued support. I hope this will be the most difficult chapter. Honestly, I set out to write more fluff than angst; it just didn't turn out that way.
Chapter 21