The Beginning of The End

Chapter 11

"Eyes On Me"

"What day do you start training, then?"

Harry sighed, tired of Ron asking this question over and over again. He answered, it seemed, for the tenth time, "Monday."

"Dumbledore hasn't said anything about the location?" Hermione asked.

"He never mentioned the exact location. All he said was that there was a safe place away from Hogwarts where we can train."

"How long will you be gone?" Ron asked.

"I dunno..." Harry lifted his shoulders jerkily. "A couple of hours, I guess..."

Ron sighed angrily. "Just when we're getting off for the holiday. Happy bloody Christmas, here's a dementor to fight," he said sarcastically.

"Ron," Hermione scolded softly. "Keep your voice down. Nobody is supposed to know."

"D'you think anyone else is crazy enough to be awake at this hour?"

"Still," Hermione muttered.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were seated in the Gryffindor common room at an unusually early hour of the morning. Harry had awoken and come down for his walk to find Ron and Hermione already awake and sitting quietly. Harry didn't know how they had all gotten around to talking about the spell, but he sincerely wished they would drop it.

Harry hadn't been able to sleep at all the previous night after receiving word from Dumbledore that training was going to begin on the twentieth of December. That left Harry only the weekend to truly prepare himself to face a dementor and the demons that went with it. The fear of hearing his mother's terrified voice left him with an empty, hollow sort of feeling and the worst part of it all was that he didn't want to fight it. He found he didn't care to at least try and have a focused outlook on the whole thing. He had always been a bit angry at who he was and what was expected of him, but now Harry didn't want to even try and curb his bitterness.

Part of what made it so difficult was that he knew it was truly starting to frighten Ron and Hermione. Every time he said something about how he felt, their concern for him would surpass any feelings they had on the subject and they spent most of the time trying to either get his mind off of it, or let him be. And until now, those things had always been just what he'd needed. Until now.

The sound of feet on the girls' staircase could be heard and Hermione silenced Ron with a look as Ginny appeared in the doorway, looking just as tired and preoccupied as the rest of them.

"What are you doing up?" Ron demanded before anyone could say hello to her.

Ginny winced slightly at Ron's severe tone and Harry felt a surge of anger towards Ron. Did he have to be so rude to her?

"Couldn't sleep," Ginny said shortly. "I'm going down to the owlery; I have a letter to Bill I need to send. Sorry for interrupting." And she left through the portrait hole.

"You shouldn't have snapped at her like that," Hermione said to Ron after Ginny had closed the portrait hole softly.

"She doesn't know what she's interrupting here," said Ron furiously, shaking his head.

"Exactly," Harry said quietly. "She doesn't know; it wasn't her fault." He didn't see Hermione lift a brow.

Ron dragged a hand through his hair. "She'll get over it. Look, Harry are you sure Dumbledore said that we can't go with you?"

Harry nodded, pushing the look on Ginny's face out of his mind. "Sirius and Lupin will be there."

"Maybe we should ask Dumbledore if we could go. Perhaps-" Hermione said.

But Harry was shaking his head. "No, why should you two miss a whole day of classes just to watch me? It doesn't make any sense." He knew they wanted to be there to support him--but he didn't want them to come. They didn't need to see any of that.

"Who cares about classes, Harry?" Ron asked irritably. Ron was not taking Harry's training very well. In fact when Harry had told him that they were using a Dementor he'd quite nearly blown his top.

"What day is it again?" Ron asked for the tenth time.

"Monday."

"Why so soon?" Ron demanded, cracking his knuckles tensely.

He was starting to get on Harry's nerves. "It's not soon. You should have seen Snape--if it were up to him, we'd have already began. Dumbledore couldn't because of the incident with the-- dementors."

Ron heaved a sigh. "Well, I think they could have waited until Christmas was over."

"It's important that they get started right away," Hermione said, and at Ron's narrowed gaze, exclaimed, "I don't want Harry to begin so soon, either, Ron! But it's true, they shouldn't waste time."

"It is the truth," Harry said rubbing his eyes and leaning back against the chair. He couldn't shake the restlessness, the dull fear growing steadily inside him. "I want to swim."

"How about a walk?" Hermione asked, looking at him with worry.

"We could take Fang out," Ron suggested.

Harry shut his eyes and tried not to think about Hagrid. "No." And suddenly, he couldn't move for how tired he felt. "I'm going up to bed... tell Flitwick where I am."

When he entered the dorm, Harry stripped off his robes and crawled into bed fully clothed, forgetting to remove his glasses and instantly falling into a deep sleep. He awoke hours later, feeling absolutely terrible. His limbs felt as though they were underwater, there was an awful taste in his mouth and his head was swimming. He groped for his glasses, which had fallen onto the bed and spotted Ron across the room, reading a comic.

"It's about time, I'm starving," said Ron.

"What time is it?" Harry asked throatily.

"One-thirty. You slept for six hours, mate."

Harry yanked his hands through his hair and gripped his aching head. "Why aren't you in Potions?"

Ron snorted. "I could ask you the same thing."

Harry groaned and whipped the covers off. "That's twice this week, I've missed. Snape is having a great time gloating, I'm sure."

"What do you care what he thinks?" Ron asked, tossing the comic aside. "Anyway, let's eat."

"Why didn't you go to lunch before?" Harry asked him as he stretched painfully. He felt like he could sleep for another six hours.

"Wasn't hungry."

"Why didn't you go to class?"

"Didn't feel like it," Ron said shortly.

Harry sighed, angry that Ron wouldn't just admit why he'd stayed behind. But as he splashed cold water on his face, he had to admit that he was relieved not to have woken up to an empty room. They made their way down to the Great Hall where they ate a silent lunch, then returned to Gryffindor Tower to wait for Hermione.

~*~

The night of the Winter Ball, Harry laid on his bed, staring unseeingly at his bedside curtains while the entire school congregated in the Great Hall. He thought about Ron and Hermione's reactions when he'd told them he wasn't going. Harry hadn't made any production of it, he'd responded with a flat out no to Hermione's tentative question yesterday. Ron had shot her a warning look, leading Harry to believe that they had discussed this beforehand. However, as much as Harry had been grateful to Ron for not letting Hermione press the issue, Harry had felt somewhat empty after that. He wanted to explain to them why he didn't see the point, why it made him sick, and even though he knew he could tell them anything in the world, the fact remained that there wasn't anything they could do for him. They could comfort him and be there for him, and Harry was grateful for that, but he didn't want comfort right now.

"I have to go, you know," Ron had said to him right before leaving to meet Hermione downstairs. Harry had been in the same position on his bed, but with the hangings pulled back and Ron had stopped before following Dean, Seamus and Neville out. "I have to go, Harry, Hermione needs to chaperone and I--"

Harry had cut him off irritably. "You don't have to worry about me. I'm fine."

"Yeah, I know you're fine," Ron had said, exasperated. Then he'd sighed. "Look, just--try not to lie here all night sulking, okay? If you get the urge, you know, come down. It's really no big deal."

Harry had said nothing at first, then, just to make Ron slightly happier, he'd lied, "If I have the urge, I'll come down."

Ron had left with another "fine" and the seconds had ticked slowly into minutes.

It didn't take long after for Harry to begin hating the solitude. But his feelings about the ball were stronger than his loneliness, so he refused, absolutely refused to go down. But what was he going to do? He could read. No, he didn't feel like it. He could take the time to get some homework done. He would never be able to concentrate.

Before long, the curtains hanging on every side of him seemed dark and cold, like stone walls, so he yanked them back. But the familiar room, which had once comforted him, seemed to be filled with tension as well. His anxiety at its breaking point, Harry grabbed his cloak and slammed from the room.

He wound up outside in the freezing winter night, standing in front of Hagrid's cabin. He let himself inside the cottage. Fang came bounding from the other end of the room and leapt on Harry, showering him with sloppy licks.

"Hey, boy," he muttered, scratching his ears and petting his black coat.

Hagrid's cabin was empty and dark, only a small light coming from the magical fire that burned in the fireplace. He didn't know why but the lack of life in the place surprised him. Had he really expected the lanterns to be lit and noises being heard meaning Hagrid was out back? Had he expected the cabin to look any different from the last time he saw it when he'd come to feed Fang earlier today?

Harry chose not to reflect on it, but sat down on the sofa and laid his head against the rest, enjoying the cold darkness of the room and listening to the nighttime noises outside the open window. Fang curled up beside him and laid his head on Harry's lap. They sat in silence for a long time.

Harry didn't know if it was minutes or hours later when he heard footsteps outside, climbing up the front stairs. Hope filled him first--then caution. Harry grabbed his wand. "Hagrid?" he called. The door opened, but it wasn't Hagrid.

"Harry, it's me. It's Ginny."

Fang's head lifted and Harry's hope vanished as Ginny stepped inside. He could barely make her out in the darkness, but he could tell that she was dressed for the dance--her robes reached the floor and she looked taller; probably in her dress shoes. She took another hesitant step inside. "Harry, what are you doing? Why is it so dark in here?"

Resigned to the fact that his solitude was gone, Harry turned on a lantern and light filled the small room. Fang took the opportunity to leap up from his position on the sofa and jump on Ginny.

"Fang," Harry said in warning, realizing that the dog was bigger than she was. Fang paid no heed to Harry, but began lavishing Ginny's face with wet kisses.

A reluctant grin tugged at his mouth as she giggled. "That's a good boy," she whispered and pushed him down. "Good boy, Fang." She scratched the spot right behind his ear, the spot Harry knew that Fang loved to be pet. And it occurred to him that she was very familiar with the dog--something else to add to the ever-growing list of things he was learning about Ginny.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny asked Harry.

"Nothing, really," he answered. "Why aren't you at the ball?"

She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. "Why aren't you at the ball?"

Harry hesitated. "Because I didn't feel like going."

Ginny sank to the floor and began to stroke Fang softly. "Why?" she asked Harry then, looking up at him. Harry didn't know why but her eyes made him slightly uneasy--perhaps because they were not wavering from his at all. "I have other things on my mind," he said, watching her carefully.

She nodded and continued to pet Fang in a slow, steady rhythm. "So you'd rather just... sit here alone, in a dark cabin with only a dog for company?" she asked mildly after a few seconds.

It was a game, he realized. A game he didn't feel like playing so he turned his head away and said nothing.

Ginny was silent as well, still stroking Fang who had laid his head on her lap much as he had done to Harry.

Something occurred to Harry. "Obviously you'd rather do the same. The ball wasn't much fun?"

"Everyone's having a great time."

"So why did you leave?" he asked.

She kept silent for a minute, and then answered. "Because I wasn't having a good time."

"Why?" he asked, suddenly geared to play her own game.

Ginny was silent for a moment before looking up at him. When she did, her brown eyes were very calm. "Because your feelings are my feelings, Harry. If you don't know that by now, then I don't know what to say."

Harry's insides seemed to hollow out. But Ginny wasn't finished.

"You can't say the things you said and expect people not to be affected by them."

Harry looked up and began to feel defensive. "What are you talking about? What things?"

Ginny's eyes locked onto his. "At breakfast the other morning. You made it very clear how you felt about this whole thing and I have to say that it wasn't right."

He stared at her. "It wasn't right?"

"No, it wasn't."

Harry could not believe that he was having this conversation at all, much less with Ginny. What did she know about it? He didn't owe her or anyone an explanation. He was the one who was responsible for protecting the entire school, and he was the one who should decide how he wanted to act about it. "You know what?" he said suddenly, not even thinking about what he was saying. "I am sick and tired of other people deciding how I should act. Besides, it isn't any of your business, Ginny."

Her eyes turned angry. "You know, Harry, it's ironic, how your life is none of my business, yet you don't even hesitate to ask me about mine."

He shook his head. "You don't know what you're talking about. We should drop this."

"Why?" she demanded. "Because it makes you uncomfortable? Don't you think I was uncomfortable when you caught me crying outside that morning? Don't you think it made me want to die when I realized you must have heard me that night at the Burrow?"

"It's not the same," he said, through gritted teeth.

"Isn't it?" she shot at him. "The subject of my dreams doesn't stretch far from yours, Harry."

He stared at her, suddenly at a loss for words. "It's different."

"How?"

He couldn't believe this. "Ginny, you have no idea what I'm going through. Everything is on me. Me. And you can't possibly understand how that feels."

"Try me," she said stubbornly.

He stood. "This is stupid."

Ginny stood as well, very quickly, and Fang pawed the ground nervously. "What are you going to do? Go back to Gryffindor and wait until everyone gets back so you can sit there and mutter that you thought the whole thing was stupid? Going to go to bed and pretend to be asleep when Ron and the others come in? Come on, Harry, that isn't you."

Harry stood stock still, staring at her with disbelief. "How are you supposed to know what's me, Ginny?

She glared at him. "Oh, you'd be surprised."

The meaning of her words broke something open inside him and he turned away, feeling as though some part of him was suddenly exposed. He stared at the floor.

Ginny spoke again, but her voice wasn't angry--it was barely a whisper. "Harry... I know how you feel."

He shook his head in utter disbelief.

"Well, perhaps I don't know exactly, but I do know..." she trailed off. "I do know what's it like to be afraid. I know you're scared. But... you can't hold it all in and then turn around and take out your anger on some stupid dance. You're only hurting yourself by doing that. You need to let go, Harry, you need to just... let go of it."

The pressure in his chest was starting to make him panic. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Her brown eyes were tormented. "I know that. I know there's something going on, something that's happening. I don't know what it is, but I know what it's doing to you... if you just let me--"

It was too much. Harry stepped back abruptly and Ginny froze, looking terrified. The silence was deafening.

And then a noise from outside caused both of them to jump. Harry walked passed Ginny and peered out the door of the cabin, his hand gripping his wand inside his pocket. There was nothing out there but the dark night. "We shouldn't be out here alone."

Behind him, Ginny sighed softly. After a moment, she joined him on the porch and descended the steps, her shoes clicking on the wooden planks. Harry followed her and they walked up to the castle in silence.

~*~

"Hey, Ginny, have a dance?"

Ginny looked up and smiled at Colin. She would rather crawl underneath her covers and have a heart-wrenching cry than dance with anyone. "Love to, Colin."

Thankfully it was a slow tune--Ginny knew she would never be able to put her heart into dancing fast. Feeling completely at ease with Colin, Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck and proceeded to think about the conversation she'd had with Harry in Hagrid's cabin not an hour ago. Colin knew there was something wrong--he kept trying to tell her jokes to lighten her mood, but it was nothing doing. When the song ended he gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek.

"Don't think about it so much, whatever it is," he told her.

She smiled apologetically at him and squeezed his hand. "I'm afraid that's impossible."

"No, it's not," he said lightly before walking back to his table. Ginny sighed went back to her own table, noting that Ron and Hermione were on the dance floor. She sipped her butterbeer and waited for them to come back, her thoughts returning to the scene in Hagrid's cabin.

All in one conversation, Ginny had admitted to having feelings for Harry, called Harry on his actions, told him off and then scared him off. And here she was sitting at a stupid dance-- Ginny knew perfectly well that it was stupid, she just didn't broadcast her feelings to the entire world in fear of ruining it for everyone else-- in her best robes --not that they were anything smashing-- sipping a flat butterbeer and watching everyone have a great time.

But Ginny wasn't having a great time. She couldn't have a great time if Harry wasn't having a great time. In fact, Ginny wondered why she didn't just go and sulk in her in the dormitory as Harry was probably doing right now. After all, Harry thought the ball was stupid, therefore she thought the ball was stupid and any other thoughts on the matter, Ginny didn't know how to feel because Harry won't tell her how he felt.

Stupid Harry. Stupid, stupid Harry for doing this to her for the hundredth time.

Ginny spent the first part of her night thinking of him lying upstairs, all alone, in his dormitory. And she spent the second part of her night infuriated with him. She was angry that Harry didn't tell her what he was involved in right now. She despised him for not seeing her right there all those times and especially now, when he needed her. She was furious with him for not trusting her, absolutely livid that he refused to see what was right in front of him. Didn't he know by now that if he opened up to her, she would be there for him without any questions? Didn't he realize that she would have stayed behind tonight with him and they could have spent the evening talking or playing chess or saying nothing at all? Didn't he know by now that she would do anything for him?

Ginny knew her fury was unfounded, that Harry would sooner tell Peeves what his innermost feelings were before telling Ginny. That was what made it so difficult.

"He never mentioned the exact location. All he said was that there was a safe place away from Hogwarts where we can train."

"How long will you be gone?"

"I dunno... A couple of hours, I guess..."

"When is it?"

"Monday."

"Just when we're getting off for the holiday. Happy bloody Christmas, here's a Dementor to fight."

"Ron. Keep your voice down. Nobody is supposed to know."

The conversation she had overheard Ron, Harry and Hermione having the other morning had been the cause of much stress for Ginny over the past few days. She had taken apart, examined, and tried to analyze exactly what the words meant.

"...a safe place away from Hogwarts where we can train... here's a Dementor to fight."

What did it all mean? Obviously he was training for something and he was going to be battling with a dementor, and the very thought made Ginny's stomach roll. She knew that it was because of Voldemort.

"Where were you?" Ron's voice snapped Ginny out of her trance as he and Hermione sat down.

"Dancing with Colin," she muttered, not even meeting her brother's eyes--the brother she hadn't had a conversation with all year, who found reasons to snap at her every time he saw her.

"For half an hour?"

"I went for a walk," she retorted, her eyes flashing. "But so nice of you to be concerned." Her idiot brother looked shocked at her outburst--as if she were the one who was out of line.

"I am concerned about you, I'm you're brother," he said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, concerned enough to yell at me every two seconds," she snapped. She wasn't about to deal with Ron and his stupid temper so she began to tell Hermione that she was going up to bed when she saw Harry through the crowd, approaching the table. The very room seemed to dim. He was wearing his dress robes, and Ginny knew that he must have taken an effort to clean himself up after leaving Hagrid's.

Hermione's eyes lit up when she saw him. "Harry!"

Harry smiled--it wasn't quite sincere but it was a smile nonetheless. "Thought I might see what all the fuss was about," he said nervously.

"Got bored, did you?" Ron asked with a half grin.

"Something like that," he said, glancing at Ginny. "Also... I had a mad sort of impulse to dance with the Head Girl." The smile indeed reached his eyes now and he flopped a hand, palm up, in front of Hermione. She took it with a huge grin.

"With pleasure."

They walked onto the dance floor and danced to the slow tune. Hermione started talking at once, and Harry shook his head, laughing at what she was saying. Ginny watched him openly, not caring if Ron noticed.

"Hey."

She glanced up to see Ron sliding into the seat next to hers. "Sorry, Gin," he said awkwardly. "Didn't mean to be so grumpy."

Ginny continued to watch Harry. "You were just being yourself," she sighed and grinned when he nudged her arm. She nudged him back.

"So... truce?" Ron held out a hand, a sheepish look on his face.

Ginny slapped his palm. "Truce."

"Come on." To Ginny's shock, Ron gripped her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor. A fast song came on and before Ginny knew it, she and Ron were dancing like they were kids. Ron twirled her around and around until Ginny got dizzy and almost tripped over his feet. They laughed and fumbled more than danced. Harry and Hermione had sat down when the song switched and were now laughing at them.

Ginny's eyes locked onto Harry's--they were watching her. Then Harry smiled at her... and he didn't look away. Ginny felt her heart flip over quickly and found herself grinning back quite foolishly. Ron caused a distraction by turning her sharply into a very low and clumsy dip which had them both stumbling and laughing.

But Harry still watched Ginny, now with his chin propped on his hand, his eyes quiet.

Ron noticed and pretended not to; Hermione's own smile was wide and misty. But Ginny didn't care what they thought just now. Perhaps tomorrow she would when she had time to reflect on it. However, just for tonight, Ginny danced with her brother, for once fully aware of Harry's eyes on her.

To Be Continued...

A/N--the title of this chapter, Eyes on Me is actually the title of a song that I think fits Harry and Ginny's theme in Beginning of the End. The song is Eye's on Me by Faye Wong and it's from one of the Final Fantasy games. If you're interested enough, listen to the song--it seems as though it could be written for our pair. ;)