Trapped Behind the Window

Trapped Behind The Window

To resist is to piss in the wind

Anybody who does will end up smelling

Knowing this, why do I defy?

Because my inner voice is yelling.

There is a fist pressing against

Anyone who thinks something compelling

Our intuit, we're told, to deny

And our soul, we're told, is for selling

Get out from under them

Resist and multiply

Get out from under precipice and see the sky

Get oput form them

Resist, unlearn, defy

Get out from under precipice and see the sky

- Incubus, Out From Under

Chapter 6

Harry tore his gaze from her and fixed it on the door. So they were coming. So this was it now. He was scared, he could not deny it. Wasn't it just despicable the way he was afraid of them? The way he had been brainwashed to be afraid of them? The way he was shivering, one hand wrapped around hers tightly, fighting the urge to get up in that very second and stand at the door where they expected him to be, fighting the urge to obey? Curiously enough, those thoughts seemed to calm him down a little, just as Ginny's presence did. She was tense as well, he could feel it, but she seemed to be so much more determined than him about breaking the rules. I'm either getting out of here, or I'll fight until they kill me, she had said. But he didn't want her to die... to be honest, he'd rather be in here with her than free on his own. However, after what had happened the day before... anger flared up in Harry instantly. How dare they even think about touching her, how dare they? He saw Ginny's point. He understood what she was feeling like, he understood her will to get out. He wanted out as well. But with her.

"We're getting out of this together, Harry," she whispered. "Together."

Together. Like a wave of relaxation rolling over him, Harry's heart seemed to beat more calmly; his breathing became slower and more intense; he felt the air flowing into his lungs as he inhaled deeply.

Together.

Yes, they were getting out of it together.

Together.

~

His breathing was stable again, and deeper; his coolness and rationality when facing danger was back upon him. Ginny wondered why he was so anxious about this little bit of rule-breaking. Of course, considering their position, it was more than a little bit of rule-breaking. But, on the whole, he seemed to be more scared of this, of what was coming now, then of facing Voldemort as he had done more than once, of facing Dementors, unsure if you would be able to block them or if they would suck out your soul.... But he was calmer now. This was the boy she knew when it came to danger, the boy she knew when things got messy. She was happy that Harry had manged to relax, because if he hadn't been able to, she would have been at sixes and sevens as well.

The lock clicked open. Breathe. Calm. Ginny could hear the key scratching in the lock as it was pulled out again and the door was pushed open, slowly. Rebellion. And even before the door was fully open, the monotone voice sounded; it spoke before they could even see that nobody was standing where they should be, standing on the line with their heads down.

"Number one-six-four, step forward and-"

The voice stopped abruptly, obviously too surprised of not seeing anybody infront of him to say or do anything. The door that had only been open in half (security messures: if the door was open fully, the prisoners might have the chance to escape) was suddenly slammed open so that it hit the wall with a dull thud. Parts of the grey plaster crumbled off and fell to the floor as a tall, hooded man stepped in. Although his eyes were hidden under the hood and Ginny could not see his face, she could imagine the murderous stare he was giving them, the two of them sitting on the bed, looking up boldly.

"Number one-six-four... number two-two-one... may I ask if you did not hear the knock, or why are you not ready?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice.

"We heard the knock," Ginny replied carelessly, feeling self-confident and she flicked a strand of curly red hair from her shoulder. She had reacted quickly - who knew if Harry was still as calm as he had been before? She knew how quickly he could lose his temper and how fast his moods could change.

~

"You heard the knock?" the man asked silently, nearly in a whisper. "Then why, could you tell me, are you not ready as you are supposed to be number-"

"Our names are not number two-two-one or number one-six-four," Harry interrupted.

For a few seconds, there was a deadly silence in the room. Harry could sense the man's anger boiling up, could sense the way his face was reddening under the hood, could sense the way he would announce them to go to the Silencing Room. And it made him grin.

"That will be the Silencing Room. Both of you," the man said harshly, breathing heavily.

Behind him, Harry felt Ginny shifting. She grasped his hand even tighter than before and replied loudly: "No."

Again, stunned silence fell upon the room. The man stared at them through his hood - and they stared back. Not blinking. Not looking down.

"At once," the man hissed.

"No," Harry repeated. "No, we will not."

"Excuse me?"

"How often must we say it? We are not going," Ginny explained, sounding as if she was trying to make him understand that one plus one equaled two. She eyed him angrily. "And now get the hell out of here."

A short glare. A little twitch of the fingers. Harry expected him to take out his wand and kill them on the spot, but the man turned around, cloak billowing and left, slamming the door shut behind him with the words: "You will regret this. I swear you will."

~

Gone. He had just gone like that. Had been quite easy actually. Well... up to now. This is just the beginning of it, Ginny thought grimly. Just the beginning. They still had a long way to go.

"Gone."

"Gone," Ginny repeated Harry's words, smiling softly. "Gone. But don't worry. I'm sure they'll be back soon enough."

"Yeah, you bet they will," he replied. "You bet."

"So..." Ginny asked after a few moments of silence. "What do we do now?" She was not used to being in the room at that time of the day. It was a good thing to not have to go out right then; but they had nothing to do in their room.

He grinned at her. "We stay in bed. That was your initial plan, remember?"

She laughed as he pulled her closer to him and kissed her neck. "I nearly forgot about that."

"We're going to stay right here in bed," he said. Untrue to his word, he slipped out of bed, walked around it to the curtains and pulled them open. Ginny smiled. The sun had not even risen yet - but a faint glow at the horizon told them it wouldn't be long before it did. He turned back to her and crawled into bed. "Good morning, sunshine."

Ginny laughed as he kissed her again. "Good morning, honey."

~

Of course, it had been too good to last.

They had spent most of the morning in bed, not doing much, not saying much, enjoying the other's presence in silence, Harry's arm around her shoulder, her head leaning against his chest, hand clutched around his tightly. And although they pretended to enjoy the time, it was like torture.

Because something was coming up. Something was brewing outside the locked door of their room, somewhere in the house, somebody was making plans to break them.

The sun had risen almost lazily, bathing the fields outside the window in a golden light, the clear, cloudless sky pale blue. The morning was perhaps cool and chilly for the end of spring, but surely enough, they would have been glad to get outside, cheeks quickly showing a pink tinge as they breathed the fresh air in deeply. Harry imagined it to be a morning at the Burrow where he would awaken in Ron's orange room, a friendly freckled face next to him; having a large breakfast with the rest of the family Weasley and Hermione; then grabbing brooms and flying off high in the air, having fun, watching Hermione's miniscule figure back down on the ground as she refused to play Quidditch with them. Ron would have been Keeper, he, Harry, Seeker. Fred and George would have taken their old places as Beaters, Charlie would have been Chaser, along with a certain red-headed girl by the name of Ginny that was lying next to him, and Bill would have played the second Keeper. They had two small teams, and Harry would be attacked by both because they had no further Seeker. It would be fun, flying in the sun, dodging the Bludgers, chasing the Snitch. Percy would stick his head out of the window every now and then and shout for peace and quiet... he had made up with his parents in Harry's imagination.

"Harry?" her silent, anxious voice asked.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, realizing quickly that the morning at the Burrow he had been daydreaming about would perhaps never come. No waking up in an orange room, so bright you had the impression of being in an oven. No breakfast at the rickety table with items from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes exploding every now and then. No mounting a broom and flying into the sky like a bird, leaving behind the thoughts of pain.

"I'm worried," she mumbled to his chest.

"I know. So am I."

"Yes, but-" Ginny started, shifting in bed and sitting up. "But what if we are separated? I don't think I will-"

"We said we were getting out together. And so it will be," he responded silently and pushed a strand of her curly hair aside lovingly.

"They will want to separate us."

"They won't," he replied softly.

"How can you say such a thing? Of course they will separate us, Harry. I'm surprised they haven't done it before."

"Exactly, Ginny. If they had wanted to, they would have done it a long time ago, don't you think? It's always struck me as suspicious. There is a reason behind them letting us stay together."

Ginny frowned. "You seem to have thought about this before..."

"Well, yes. I have. I overheard a conversation one day. They seem to think I have suicidal tendences and that's why they don't want me on my own. In case I do something to myself."

"Why would they care about that?" Ginny asked, still frowning - but then her eyes became very big and round. "You mean, they still need you for something... something else... yes... yes, obviously..."

"I'm sure Voldemort has worked up a nice plan about how to kill me with as much torture as possible. They don't want to displease their master by telling him I've killed myself."

"So you don't think they will separate us?"

"I don't think so, but perhaps they may. I don't know, Ginny, nobody can know for sure. But I know one thing: We will fight to stay together."

"Yes," she said and continued, her tone serious. "Harry? I need to tell you something."

"Yes?"

"I hope you know I love you. It's just that... if something happens to you..."

Harry took her hand in his, listening attentively. "I love you as well."

"I know... It's just that I don't think I... I don't think I will want to... to live on. Especially not in the circumstances that will then arise," she said silently, nearly a whisper.

"Don't say things like that, sunshine. Don't rob yourself of the chances you still have - even if you are not aware of them in the moment I die," Harry whispered back. "Don't hurt yourself to get out of it. You are strong. The darkness will not endure for ever. The darkness will not endure throughout eternity."

"But a day without you is like eternity," she whispered and sealed his mouth with a kiss.