PhoenixSong.net :: A Harry/Ginny Fanfic and Fanart Archive

Author: rich.sanidad

Story: One Blink

Part: 10 - The Calm Before

Rating: Teens

Setting: Pre-DH

Status: Completed

Warning: Violence, death, extreme language

Reviews: 5

Words: 4,695

Updated: September 10, 2009, 7:13pm

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10 - The Calm Before

“You should not be here.”

Harry ignored the dangerous witch that had crept up behind him and continued scanning the ramshackle house he had come to consider a second home. After approximately fifteen minutes of observation, there had been no indication that there was anyone inside the dwelling, but he was willing to wait an hour, if necessary, to see something—anything. When she took another step towards him, he decided to break the nervous silence.

“Fleur... I’m doing well. Thanks for asking. How are you?”

The once-beautiful Veela ignored his flippancy. “She is not even inside for you to see. You should already be aware of that. There is absolutely nothing to gain by coming here.”

Harry did not stir from his crouch behind a tall elm tree despite the fact that attempting to hide was now moot.

“Did you hear me?”

Harry bristled, but maintained his position. “Of course I did. And if you don’t lower your voice, someone else may hear you as well.”

“No one will. I patrol the grounds every day.”

“Then stop lecturing me about what a risk I’m supposedly taking!”

Fleur said nothing, and Harry had to listen carefully for her breathing to verify that she was still behind him. He was disappointed when he did not hear the tell-tale pop of Disapparation, but returned his gaze to The Burrow’s first floor windows.

“Why are you here, Harry?”

“Can’t a bloke drop by for a visit?”

“I tire of your attempt at humour.”

Harry slumped a bit and dropped his head. He stared at the ground for a few moments before responding.

“You wouldn’t understand...”

“Then explain it to me.” Despite her words, Fleur’s voice lacked any trace of curiosity. “I am doing my part to help get everyone else through this alive. You should return to yours.”

Harry looked over his right shoulder to make eye contact with her. “You don’t even know what my part is.”

“That is irrelevant. You need to stop being weak and shirking your duty.”

“I’m not shirking my duty!” Harry stood up and turned to face his accuser.

“Then what would you call it?”

“I don’t know... Sometimes I just need something to remind me—”

“I need nothing to remember that Bill is dead.”

Harry’s eyes flashed in anger. “I haven’t forgotten him! Don’t you dare insinuate that I’ve forgotten about any of them! Dumbledore... Sirius... my—”

“So you say, and yet you linger here like a lovesick schoolboy rather than seek revenge upon those who deserve it most.”

“Don’t you get it? If I fail, more will suffer.”

“So end it.”

“It’s not that simple! I have to be sure of every step I make. I can’t go off half-cocked like some people.”

“And yet, if not for ‘some people’ you would not be here hiding from your destiny.”

“Stop saying that!”

“Why? It is only the truth.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Harry. He gritted his teeth so hard that it hurt.

“I know enough. If you are smart, you will leave here... now.”

“Or, what? You can’t make me go.”

“I beg to differ,” said Fleur as she drew her wand. She did not look surprised to see that Harry already had his out and pointed at her.

Neither moved for several minutes. Harry could feel a bead of sweat crawling down his left temple. Despite the training sessions he had done with Ron and Hermione, he still did not have full confidence in his ability to use his new wand in a duel.

“I don’t want to do this, Fleur.” Harry spoke slowly to keep the tremors from his voice.

“I have made my intentions clear. The next move is yours.”

Harry looked at his adversary and took heart in the knowledge that it was only Fleur. Since he was not truly an enemy, she would not kill him. At least, that was what he was trying to tell himself. He saw her left foot move as she shifted her weight to her front foot, and he feared he was about to find out the answer to that question sooner than he would have liked. He instinctively tightened his grip on his wand as he prepared to put up a shield when one materialised between them out of nowhere.

“STOP IT!” Hermione’s voice rang out clearly, though neither combatant ceded any ground. “This is wrong! Save it for the Death Eaters!”

Ron stood firmly next to her, his wand trained on Fleur.

“What’s the matter with you two?” Hermione continued. “I can’t believe I may have to explain how idiotic this is.”

“Please don’t,” said Ron. Hermione gave him a dirty look, and Harry fought the urge to smile.

Fleur regarded them all with an expression of disbelief. “How can all of you joke so easily? Does this war mean nothing to you?”

“Don’t go there,” said Ron, his voice suddenly deadly serious as he raised his wand a little higher. “I don’t care if you were going to marry my brother, but you won’t accuse me of taking this rotten business too lightly.”

Fleur’s eyes narrowed at the reference to her former fiancé, but otherwise made no reaction.

“In the interest of sanity...” said Hermione.

Leave it to her to be the rational one, thought Harry.

“... perhaps it would be best if the three of us continued on our way.”

Fleur tilted her face up and looked down her nose at them, and for a fraction of a second, Harry was reminded of the haughty witch who had entranced the male denizens of Hogwarts the instant she stepped out of the Beauxbatons flying coach.

“That is all I desired in the first place,” she said.

Ron had sidled silently up to Harry during the latest exchange. He nudged Harry with his elbow and said, “Come on, mate. Being this close to home is kind of hard on me too. I never thought I’d say this, but let’s go see what we can learn at the Lovegoods’ place.”

Harry looked at his friend with a measure of surprise on his face.

“Well, I’m not expecting to make a habit of it,” replied Ron. “Let’s just go.”

Harry frowned, and then nodded resignedly.

“Remember the spot I described to you last night?” asked Ron.

“Yeah... see you there,” said Harry. And with a twist of his body and a loud pop, he was gone.

Ron took one last glance at his childhood home, and then he too disappeared.

Hermione tensed as she saw Fleur’s attention diverted to herself. But the older witch lowered her wand and acknowledged her with a small nod. Hermione released the breath she had been holding and whispered, “Finite Incantatem.”

Once the shield had disappeared, there was a third and final pop, and Fleur was finally alone. She immediately marched around the perimeter of the property, as she did several times every day, verifying that no one had infiltrated the grounds while she was distracted. Satisfied that all was clear, she then made her way through the woods on the far side of the orchard.

Several hundred feet into the forest, she could no longer see any trace of The Burrow or its surrounding features. She slowed her pace, knowing that it was only a matter of time before she found her quarry. A few minutes later, she heard a low, rumbling sound behind her. She turned slowly, careful not to give the animal a reason to attack. As she expected, she found herself face to face with a large, grey wild dog. She knew it would come, just as she knew that its home was less than twenty-five yards from their current location.

It growled again, louder this time, obviously trying to warn her away. Fleur only responded by pointing her wand at a spot between its eyes. The dog bared its fangs and its face began to blur. Fleur screwed up her eyes, but still its face would not come into focus. She shook her head. Now was not the time to lose focus. It took a step towards her, and she instinctively took one backwards. She shook her head harder, and the animal’s face was replaced by that of Fenrir Greyback. It was an odd sight, seeing that monster’s face on the body of a random dog. She wondered if that was what the real Greyback looked like when he... Was this what Bill saw right before... Her heart tightened and she felt the world close in around her. She had taken her revenge upon several Death Eaters since the horrible night of Bill’s death, but the one of their number whose blood she desired most still eluded her. Someday soon, she knew she would get an opportunity to balance the scales of justice, and when it came, she did not intend to miss.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Ginny wrung out the flannel and a stream of red liquid flowed into a basin by her feet. The fact that she was no longer disgusted by the tainted water would have disturbed her if she took the time to think about it. But at the moment, her focus was reserved solely for the fellow Gryffindor from whom the blood had been forcibly taken. She gently dabbed at the wound on the side of Neville’s face again, but despite her caution he flinched strongly when she made contact with his skin.

“Sorry.” She winced at having caused her friend more pain.

“S’all right... not your fault...” He swayed a bit as he tried to speak.

Ginny reached into her rucksack and pulled out a small glass flask that seemed to be filled with a dark red, or possibly purple liquid. “Here, drink this,” she said as she handed it to him.

“What’s that?” asked Jimmy Peakes. He had been observing them from an adjacent sofa while attempting to complete some homework. Now a fourth year, his voice was not as high-pitched as it once was, except on those occasions when he was slightly agitated or stressed.

“Blood-Replenishing Potion from Madam Pomfrey,” replied Ginny. “Easy there, Nev. You only need a few sips to fix you up.”

“Why don’t you just heal him?” asked Jimmy. “What’s that spell Harry told me about once... Emis... Elfish...”

“Episkey,” answered Ginny with a frown. “The last time I used that spell, they just hurt Neville even worse the next time they were able to catch him alone.”

“You see, Jimmy, this way I get to wear what they’ve done to me as a warning to other students.” Neville sat up a little straighter, though his face still looked a little pale.

The younger boy’s face clearly displayed his horror at the logic in their actions. “But why you? They got Zacharias Smith for detention last week and he didn’t have a mark on him. Same with Terry Boot.”

“Of course not,” replied Neville.

“But they were in Dumbledore’s Army just like you.”

“Yeah, but they haven’t been drawing attention to themselves all year, like I have. And I’m guessing they actually cried out the first few times they got roughed up. Can’t expect a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff to act like us Gryffindors, eh mate?” Neville gave him a playful punch on the shoulder, and Jimmy could not help but notice how little strength was behind it.

The younger Gryffindor frowned. “I suppose not...”

“It’s not so bad,” Neville reassured him. “Besides, better I take it than any of you.”

“Why? Because you think we’re young and weak?” Jimmy's eyes hardened quickly, surprising both Ginny and Neville.

Neville shook his head and did not speak until he was sure he could keep his voice steady. “Young, maybe... but not weak. Age means nothing now. Since I’ve been here at Hogwarts, a first-year stopped You Know Who from stealing the Philosopher’s Stone, a second-year killed a Basilisk, a third-year—”

“But that was Harry!”

“It doesn’t matter who it was,” replied Neville evenly. “The point is, the Death Eaters will hurt anyone now. They won’t care if you’re only a fourth-year—they might even wish you were a little younger.”

Jimmy dropped eye contact with the older boy and furrowed his brow. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, and his mouth tightened into a tight line.

Ginny and Neville exchanged a look, but both seemed at a loss as to what to do next. Should they try to preserve his pride or his life?

“Jimmy,” said Ginny gently, “why don’t you go on up to bed? You haven’t added a single line to that Potions essay in the last half hour. You may as well get some rest.”

“But... Neville’s still...”

“Go on,” said the older boy. “There’s nothing left to be done for me. I just need some sleep and I’ll be feeling much better come morning.”

Jimmy did not move from his seat. He looked at Neville warily before making eye contact with Ginny.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll take care of him.”

He turned to Neville and opened his mouth to say something, but the seventh-year interrupted before Jimmy could say anything. “As I said, I’ll be heading to bed myself soon. Ginny and I just need to finish a conversation from earlier.”

The fearless young boy finally seemed to back down a bit, and Ginny tried to press their advantage.

“You don’t really want to hear about advanced techniques for re-potting Gurdyroot, do you?”

It was clear from Jimmy's face that he did not.

“All right then, we’ll see you for breakfast,” said Neville as he turned to Ginny, effectively dismissing the younger boy. He droned on about how to prepare the soil in the pot that would be receiving the Gurdyroot with a weak solution of sneezewort until he heard the door to the fourth-year boys’ dormitory close. When he stopped, he noticed that she was staring at him with her mouth slightly open.

“What?”

“How do you know so much about Gurdyroot?”

“I don’t. But Jimmy doesn’t know that,” said Neville with a small smile. “Now then, what’s really on your mind?”

“What were you thinking, going after Crabbe right in front of Amycus like that? Morale was bad enough before you got yourself done in like this!”

“Had to. I didn’t like the way he was looking at Parvati, so I distracted him.”

“You’ll not last another week if you keep this up,” Ginny insisted.

“And you won’t if I don’t,” he mumbled back.

If he was trying to keep his thoughts to himself, he did a poor job. “What are you talking about?” she replied.

“Parvati’s not the only one Carrow has been eyeing.” Neville’s firm stare gave her no illusions as to whom he was referring to.

“That’s hardly news.”

“Yes, but it’s worse now than before.” When Ginny tried to deflect his worry with a roll of her eyes, Neville was forced to plead his case. “Listen to me—think about what I just said to Jimmy a few minutes ago. Something’s changed—they’re worse. They’re becoming more restless, and that can only mean bad news for us.”

Ginny did not say anything as she pondered his words. In truth, she knew things had been changing even before tonight. Everything was just a little bit off from how they used to be—not that things were going swimmingly before. But if Neville was scared, she had no reason to doubt him.

“So what do you propose we do about it?”

“Not ‘we’... you. When you go home for Easter hols this weekend, don’t come back.”

The young redhead’s eyes flashed dangerously. “I’m not a coward!”

“I never said you were.” Neville placed his hands in front of him in a placating manner. “But there’s more at stake now than just a few detentions or a bloody nose.”

“And what about you?”

“Someone has to keep an eye on things.”

“But who’s going to keep you safe?”

“They already roughed me up today. They’ll probably lay off for a bit... That should give me time to figure something out.”

Ginny tilted her head and looked over her friend carefully. Neville squirmed a bit in his seat under her discerning gaze. But then she folded her arms and leaned back in her seat. “Tell me more.”

Neville exhaled in relief. Arguing with Ginny was not his favourite pastime. “Well, I’ve already told you about Amycus. But it’s Alecto that I’m worried about. I overheard her say something the other day about Snape being too soft.”

“Who was she talking to?”

“Slughorn.”

Ginny’s face remained stoic, though her mind was racing. While she never believed that Slughorn would actually take an active role in the Death Eaters’ activities, the fact that Alecto felt comfortable voicing her opinions out loud was cause for concern.

“Ginny?”

She looked up, unaware that several minutes had passed since Neville has last spoken. “Sorry. I was... thinking...”

“Don’t apologise. I’ve been mulling this over much longer than you have.”

Ginny finally let some emotion show and raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Really? How long?”

“Long enough...” he replied with a shake of his head. When he looked back at her, he could not help but detect a faint smile on the corner of Ginny’s mouth. “What?”

“Nothing...”

“Go on.”

“It’s nothing... I just never thought of you as a deep thinker. Channelling your inner-Hermione, are you?”

Neville gave her his own little smile. “Times change.”

Ginny nodded, and then a small smile formed on her face. “So tell me... what other deep thoughts have you had about me?” she teased.

“Who said I’ve had others?” he replied, although a faint tinge of red coloured his cheeks.

“Now I know you’ve had others!” she said triumphantly. “Come on then... out with it.”

“Never mind,” said Neville quietly, a weak smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I already know the answer.”

Ginny tilted her head slightly as she scrutinised his cryptic statement, but he offered no further explanation. She was about to push him on it when he leaned back and shut his eyes. Ginny shut her mouth; she certainly could not begrudge him a brief respite from the day’s events. She decided to lean back in her own chair and let her mind relax too.

A comfortable silence fell on them. It was nearly a half hour later when Neville broke it with a stifled yawn.

“Sorry... tired... must have lost more blood than I thought.”

“That’s not funny.”

Neville sighed. “I know...” He sat up and stretched.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” Ginny did not lift her eyes from the dying embers in the fireplace.

“Do what?”

“Stay with my parents. But we need to spread the word to others too,” said Ginny as she turned to him. “Maybe we can save some others as well.”

The sandy-haired boy nodded in agreement. “Leave it to me. I have a few ideas on how to keep everyone safe.”

Ginny opened the rear door to the house and saw him sitting on a patch of dirt a few paces away from a spade which lay next to freshly disturbed earth. His shoulders were slumped and his arms were wrapped loosely around his knees. He seemed to be staring at a small, improvised grave marker, or perhaps the house she had just left, but his eyes were dull and empty. She could barely tell that they were green. A wave of sadness came over her and she began to walk towards him, though she had no idea what she was going to say once she reached him. As she took the last two steps to get to his side, she hesitated, suddenly unsure if she should just let well enough alone and return from whence she came.

Ginny scowled inwardly at her temporary cowardice and sat down next to him, though she left some space between them. She looked off into the surrounding forest, with her back to the house. She sat with her legs crossed, and then with her legs out in front of her, and finally with her knees up, imitating the pose Harry had held the entire time. She rested her head on her knees wondering what the hell she was doing out there. She sat for a few more minutes and was about to stand up and go back into the house, when Harry broke the silence.

“It’s not fair.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Ginny said nothing; her thoughts swirled around in her mind, none of them resting long enough for her to focus on it.

“Burying Dobby here, after all he did... away from people who cared for him... it’s just not fair,” Harry continued, not much louder than before.

Ginny’s voice came out almost as quietly. “But I’m here—and so are my family.” She winced as soon as the protest left her mouth. Now was not the time to be arguing with him.

Harry smiled kindly at her, though it was obvious that the smile required some effort. “I know—and I’m glad you’re here. But this is your Aunt Muriel’s house. She didn’t know Dobby. And, quite frankly, I don’t think she’s the type of person who would have tried to get to know him.”

Ginny nodded thoughtfully, knowing she could not refute his statement. She knew that she did not wish to be here either, so she could only imagine what had happened to cause Ron to bring everyone here. She wanted to ask Harry so many questions, but she also knew that the answers she sought would remain mysteries whether she asked them or not. She was nudged from her thoughts when Harry spoke again.

“Are Ron and Hermione all right? I think I’d like to stay out here for a while.”

“Yeah...” said Ginny quietly. “Ron and Mum have been fussing over Hermione, but I think she’s sitting up on her own now.” Harry nodded, and she continued. “Fred hit Aunt Muriel with a Daydream Charm, maybe two. She hasn’t moved from the sofa and she has a trickle of drool from the corner of her mouth to her shoulder.”

She received a small smile for her efforts and she felt encouraged to finish her report. “George is making sure that Luna and Dean are comfortable. And Dad’s tending to Mr. Ollivander and Griphook.”

“Mmm...” Harry’s voice lacked any emotion, which surprised her a bit. She could tell from his eyes that he was quite interested in the old wandmaker and the goblin. It was the first sign of life she had seen in him since the ragtag group arrived mysteriously a few hours ago.

Having given him the information he needed, Ginny felt that she should go, but found it difficult to do so. Memories of numerous sleepless nights at Hogwarts, worrying over his whereabouts and his safety, played out in her mind, and she inched over a bit from where she had sat down until their shoulders were touching. She waited for him to protest, but he remained stoic.

She looked back over her shoulder at the homemade grave for a few moments, and then returned to gazing at some trees in the distance. “I know this isn’t the best place for Dobby... but he’ll be safe here.”

Harry nodded, his face still as impassive as stone.

“If Bill were h-here...” she started to say, but lost her voice. She swallowed thickly. “If Bill were here, he would have made sure of it.”

“Yeah...” Harry dropped his head so that his arms were covering any view of his face. Ginny could almost see the weight of the burden he carried like a yoke around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean—”

“S’all right...” Harry pulled his head back up and pulled his legs closer so he could rest his chin on his knees. “I think we all wish things were different than how they’ve turned out...”

“Yeah...” Ginny looked down and was slightly surprised at how clean her trainers were. She thought he had turned slightly to look at her or something beyond her, but she only bent her head down a little more. She found it odd that she could not bring herself to make eye contact with him, but felt comforted in the fact that he had not moved to pull their shoulders apart.

Silence fell upon them again, but this time Ginny was in no hurry for it to end or to find a reason to leave. She almost let her head rest upon his shoulder but stopped just in time, making it appear as if she were avoiding a wasp or some other nuisance.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked with genuine concern in his eyes.

“Yeah... sorry...” Ginny could feel her cheeks flush. “Starting to feel a bit tired, I guess. I think all of the excitement has started to wear off.”

She saw him nod his head twice before pulling his head up fully to look at her. “Thanks for staying.”

“No problem,” she mumbled. Her cheeks were practically burning.

Silence overcame them again as they returned to their respective vigils. There had been no sign of life from the house, nor any unusual movement from the woods and Ginny was thankful for it. The minutes stretched into hours. As the sky began to lighten, she realised that she had finally given in to her earlier impulse and had laid her head on his shoulder. She panicked as she wondered how long she had been doing it. Wonderful, she thought to herself. He’s grieving and I’m coming off like some tart who couldn’t wait to get him alone. She jerked her head back up so quickly that she almost lost her balance and had to put one of her hands down to steady herself.

“Ginny?”

“Sorry. I... I shouldn’t have done that.”

He gave her a blank look and blinked twice, reminding Ginny of Pigwidgeon.

“I just meant... er, that is, it just occurred to me that you don’t need me using you as a pillow.”

“I don’t mind...”

Ginny looked at him. His voice wavered slightly, but his face was only beginning to show emotion.

“Are you sure? I mean... I... if you had asked for me to leave you alone, I would have.”

“I know...”

Ginny looked at him. His unemotional façade continued to break down, as he screwed up his eyes tightly. “Maybe I should go...” she started to say.

“No. Please, wait...”

Ginny licked her lips. “It’s all right. Nothing’s changed. I know that...”

“Ginny—”

“Please, let me finish. You show up here with Hermione half-dead, Luna, who we haven’t seen since Christmastime, and others, including a goblin!”

Harry did not respond, but his head began drooping once again.

“You and Tom still have unfinished business,” continued Ginny. “I just wanted you to know that I’ll be...”

“... waiting... always.”

Ginny closed her eyes and lay her head back down on his shoulder. “So, you got my note...”

“Yeah...”

“And I guess you read it...”

“All one hundred and two words.”

Ginny could not stop a smile from breaking out on her face. She was glad he could not see it.

“I guess that means you read it more than once.”

“About fifty times...”

“Really?”

“... the first day alone.”

She responded with a small giggle, and she felt something similar ripple through his chest. “I never gave up on you,” she said. “Not really. I always hoped...”

“Me too,” said Harry as he lay his head on top of hers. “Me too...”

They stayed in that position for almost another hour, when Harry began to fidget. And then his discomfort appeared to turn into pain as he put his hand over his scar and shut his eyes tightly. He stayed like this for several minutes, and Ginny spoke as soon as she thought it was safe.

“Are you all right? Should we go inside?”

“I’m fine... but we should go inside anyway. It’s time to talk to Mr. Ollivander. Tom’s got something that doesn’t belong to him.”

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