Down Came the Sky

Chapter Twelve: Breathless

"You want her to open it now? But what about all the exercises?"

"You know those were more than exercises, Harry. Now that we have a better understanding of how the magic works, I believe Ms. Weasley has nothing more to do than start with the meditation."

Ginny unclenched her hands and idly realized that, in her anxiety, she had been clutching fistfuls of her Quidditch robes. She ran her sweaty palms across her legs and leaned in toward Harry and Dumbledore. Dumbledore steepled his fingers and gazed thoughtfully at Ginny, causing her to squirm slightly.

"Ms. Weasley, before we get started--" Dumbledore paused and waited for Ginny to regain her composure. Ginny attempted to relax and made eye contact with him. It slightly unnerved her. Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Before we get started," he repeated, "you have to promise that you will not execute any magic by means of your channel. We are only opening it for Harry's benefit--and I daresay the ministry would be upset if they received wind that you performed Kaigdin magic."

Ginny shook her head. "I'll only open it when Harry needs it," she affirmed, glancing sideways at Harry. He was staring at his shoes.

"Let's get started then," Dumbledore continued. Ginny was surprised when Harry gripped her hand tightly. She glanced over at him with a questioning expression.

"It's not easy," he said quietly, offering her a meek smile. Ginny pursed her lips and pressed her fingers on Harry's knuckles while she turned back to Dumbledore.

"Close you eyes, Ms. Weasley."

Ginny obeyed and listened to the stillness of the room. Ron was breathing heavily behind her and she almost got lost in the rhythm. She heard Hermione sigh softly and for reasons she couldn't tell, felt an anxiousness flutter deep in the pit of her stomach. She blew out a long stream of air and attempted to focus on Ron's rhythmic breathing again.

"What is it that you feel most prominently, Ms. Weasley," Dumbledore asked gently, almost serenely. Ginny opened her mouth, letting more air fill up her constricting lungs.

"Fear," she breathed, feeling the flutter in her stomach once again. "I'm afraid." Harry's hand shifted slightly in hers and she gripped it back in response. She felt like she might loose him. But that was crazy, she reasoned. Harry was sitting right beside her, holding her hand. He wasn't going anywhere for the time being. Still, her stomach was in knots and she noted that her forehead was beginning to throb from her worried expression.

"Why are you afraid?" Dumbledore spoke the words so softly that, had the room not been so still, Ginny most likely wouldn't have heard. To her embarrassment, Ginny felt tears spill down her cheeks all the way to her partially opened mouth. She relaxed her eyebrows and swallowed.

"I don't want anything to happen to Harry," she replied as her voice broke.

"Do you think something will happen to Harry?" Ginny nodded and licked her salty lips.

"Everything happens to Harry." Her grip on Harry's hand must have been fierce because she felt him gently coaxing her fingers to loosen. His hand left hers momentarily and she began to panic. She couldn't loose him--she couldn't let him get hurt. "Harry, hold my hand. Please, hold my hand again," she said desperately, reaching over in his direction. She felt his hand in hers a moment later and she latched her fingers tightly with him, unable to let him go.

"You can open your eyes, Ms. Weasley."

The lemony tinge of the lamps in Dumbledore's office shocked her vision as she let her eyes snap open. She turned to Harry, who looked to her from their joined hands, his face serious. He nodded for her to look back at Dumbledore. Ginny moved closer to him and turned again to the Headmaster.

"I need you to reach out your wand hand," Dumbledore requested gently. Ginny's wand hand was gripping Harry, so she reached her arm in order to grasp Harry's fingers with her other hand as she outstretched her wand hand. "Concentrate on your most prominent feeling until you feel a sensation in the middle of your palm."

Ginny begin breathing raggedly as her fear engulfed her. Even though Harry was sitting right beside her, clutching her hand back, she knew it was only a matter of time before Voldemort wore him down completely. Fate handed him an impossible task and she didn't know if he would come out on the other side. And she didn't know what she would do if she lost him.

Ginny felt a cold, tingling sensation pierce the middle of her palm. Small spurts of what felt the wetness spurted from the cold center and seemingly spilled down her arm. The cold sensations grew and traveled down her arm into an imaginary hole in her chest where a strange openness grew. Ginny felt as though the wind was traveling through her.

"Is it open, Ms. Weasley?"

Ginny lowered her hand, still feeling the gaping vulnerability inside her and nodded. When Harry's thigh brushed hers, even though it was slight, the air appeared to crackle.

"Shall I--?" Harry started, and Dumbledore nodded in affirmation. Harry closed his eyes for a long time and Ginny watched him, feeling a terrible throb in the chasm of her chest each time his expression shifted.

A moment before Harry's eyes snapped open, Ginny gasped as what felt like an imaginary rope connected the deep ache of her channel to him. When she finally did meet his eyes, she couldn't tear her vision away from him. She turned so that they were sitting knee to knee and he reached up to run his hands down her arms.

"What feeling did you use, Harry?" Dumbledore gently prodded. Harry's eyes were firmly locked to hers with such an intimidating intensity that Ginny was sure she would flee if she didn't love him so much. His mouth fell open and he continued to stare at her for a long while without uttering a sound.

"Love," he finally whispered.

Ginny felt her heart plummet as her jaw dropped. He loved her--he just admitted it. She felt a surge of affection just as her chest tightened painfully. She reached out and grabbed Harry's hands and pulled them close to herself.

"I can feel it," she murmured to him, putting his hand over her heart. "I feel what you feel." Harry lifted her other hand and brought it to his chest, not speaking a word, but guiding her palm to his chest. She could almost feel the chasm of his channel swallow her hand.

"Harry, try a spell," Dumbledore encouraged. Harry nodded and slowly tore his eyes from Ginny's. She however continued to keep his hand pressed tightly to her heart.

"I need my hand, Ginny," he said gently. She loosened her grip and he repositioned his hand so that it appeared he was reaching for one of Dumbledore's odd magical instruments.

"Accio!" he cried. Ginny felt the breath leave her and she doubled over, leaning over her legs, wheezing for the air that would not come. A slight clatter sounded from the proximity of Harry's foot and he reached over her, leaning his head so he could speak in her ear.

"Ginny? Are you okay?" he asked frantically. Ginny shook her head, attempting to suck in the air around her, but instead she continued to feel the heavy pressing on her lungs as Dumbledore's office began to fade.

"She can't breathe!"

Harry's voice was an echo in her head. Her body began to go slack and she barely noted the hands that grasped her as she slid to the ground. Still, she attempted to breathe until she gasped one great, swallowing breath and passed out.

*

"You're too weak to be of any use to him."

"Only because I'm young."

The words disappeared on the page of her diary and Ginny stared at the page, her heart lightly drumming.

"You believe strength comes with age?"

"Yes," Ginny scrawled back. "The more I know, the more I can help." The page remained blank for a while and the wind rattled the window. She shuddered, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and stared at the page, poised for the response.

"What should I teach you, then?" Ginny thought she ought to have been relieved by the response, but instead the pace of her heart increased.

"I want to fight for him." Her hand was shaking as she wrote, causing the words to appear sloppy.

"My dear, are you scared?" Feeling affronted by the accusation, Ginny wrote a 'NO' in block letters.

"Good. I will teach you how to be a little warrior."

"Thank you, Tom."

"First, you must learn about power."

Ginny felt her eyes drift shut, for a brief, calming moment. She was relaxed when her eyes cracked open. But this wasn't right, Ginny thought. She was just sitting on her bed, writing in her diary, and now she was standing in the middle of the girls' lavatory. She shivered at the cold breeze and the ominous, slow dripping of the sink.

She gasped when she caught a glimpse of her hands, covered in blood. Tears threatened her eyes and she felt a horrible itch in the back of her throat. Pursing her lips together, she hurried to the sink and turned on the water, sticking her hands under the icy cold stream of the faucet. Hot tears splashed down her cheeks as she scrubbed at her hands, which were become numb and raw. One of her hands dropped the pockets of her robes and she felt the familiar weight of her diary. Drying her hands on her robes, Ginny pulled the diary out of her pocket and stared at the cracked black cover. Hands trembling, she gripped the spine, hurled it into an empty cubicle and ran out of the bathroom as fast as her legs could carry her.

*

"Make him go away," Ginny croaked as she lifted her hands to rub her eyes.

"Are you okay, Ginny?"

Ginny opened her eyes to see she was lying on the floor of Dumbledore's office. Harry, Ron and Hermione were crouched near her and Dumbledore was bent over, pressing his hand to her forehead. Harry helped her as she attempted to sit up.

"Why did I stop breathing?" she asked, pulling herself close to Harry by gripping a fistful of his robes. Harry sat down beside her and wrapped his arms protectively around her causing Ginny to realize the cold, gaping feeling of her open channel once again. She hardly noticed that she was shaking when she buried her head in his chest.

"I told you this was a bad idea." Ginny felt Harry's voice rumble angrily. Ginny's lungs suddenly constricted as a nearby mirror shattered and she gasped, pulling back from Harry so that she could place her hand on her chest.

"She needs to close her channel or she'll suffocate," Harry said frantically. Ginny fought for her breathes again and was relieved when they came, though they were shallow. Harry laid her back on the ground and lowered his mouth to hers, blowing in a steady stream of breath. It relieved her, but Ginny knew she couldn't breathe like that forever. She reached up a hand to push Harry away. His expression held a deep worry and an almost guilt. She smiled at him faintly, hoping to relax him.

"Tell me how to close it," she wheezed.

"Close your eyes and clear your mind," he said automatically, reaching down to hold her shoulders. Ginny concentrated on her breathing when she closed her eyes. A warm, pleasant sensation spread from the center of her chest and radiated out toward her limbs. It made her sleepy. The blank, relaxed feeling caused a sort of panic in her and she sat up abruptly, gripping Harry's arm.

"Stop it." Her voice was high shrill, but weakened by her shortness of breath.

"It's okay," Harry said soothingly, "your channel is closing."

"I want to be awake...I need to be conscience or-or else--" She broke off, trembling, and looked frantically around the room.

"Ms. Weasley, what do you mean you need to be con--?" Dumbledore started, but broke off abruptly as Ginny yelled in frustration and began rubbing furiously at her eyes.

"It won't happen this time..." she mumbled to herself.

"What won't happen?" Dumbledore spoke gently, lowering himself to her level.

"He's not going to take over me."

Silence pierced the room. Ginny felt her breath come slowly, in a steadier stream and she wiped the sweat off of her forehead.

"I believe that you should take a bit of a rest," Dumbledore replied, rising to his full height. "I apologize for my lack of foresight in this situation, Ms. Weasley. I obviously did not fully consider what opening up your channel to Harry might do to you." He smiled sadly at her and bent down to offer his hand to hers. She took it and rose to her feet with Harry, Ron and Hermione following suit. "Mr. Weasley--Ms. Granger, would you help Ms. Weasley back to her dormitory? I wish to speak to Harry alone."

Ginny felt Hermione's hand spread on her back, rubbing it soothingly as Ron snaked his arm over the top of her back and lifted her off her feet.

"I can walk, Ron," Ginny grumbled, but Ron shook his head.

"I'm not taking any chances."

Ginny chanced a glance at Harry. He was staring out the window, his expression steely. Ginny bit her lip. "Come see me when you're done, Harry," she said quietly. Harry moved his eyes to her, his expression softening.

"Of course."

***

Ginny dozed in front of the fire after Hermione had helped her change out of her Quidditch robes. She was exhausted and had trouble keeping her eyes open after the ordeal in Dumbledore's office. For now, she was happy for the comfortable familiarity of her situation; Hermione was reading in the chair next to her and Ron had picked up an impromptu chess game with Neville. Still, Ginny wished that Harry was there.

She curled her legs close to her chest and rested her eyes, shoving her anxiety out of her mind. She didn't like that there was this small inkling forming in the recesses of her mind; this tiny voice that whispered worry and repeated over and over again, something's not right with Harry. Her breathing was shallow and she forced herself to take in the air deeply and meditate on the familiar sounds surrounding her. The steady crackle of the fire...Ron's voice as he murmured a command to his chess pieces and the slight scrape as they moved forward...the nearly inaudible sound of Hermione whispering the words she was reading to herself...the creak of the portrait hole.

Her mind relaxed in a pleasant blankness; she was so relaxed that she didn't have time to realize that it was abnormal.

When Ginny opened her eyes a familiar dread crept into her. She was standing, her wand pointed at Harry's throat, while the Gryffindors occupying the room watched in horror. Her wand fell out of her hand with a clatter and she backed away, looking at Hermione for reassurance. Hermione just stared, pale faced, between Harry and Ginny. Ron was standing, on guard, by his chair with his wand drawn. Harry was staring at Ginny menacingly.

"Were you going to kill me?" Harry asked coldly. Ginny shook her head and felt a chill run through her. Harry retrieved her wand off the ground and handed it to her. "Go on," he whispered, "you have the power."

"I don't want this power," she replied, her voice thick and shaking. She saw Ron moving forward out of the corner of her eye, but she stood stationary, staring at her wand in Harry's outstretched hand. The wind whistled loudly in her ears and felt to blow right through her. Seemingly out of her own accord, she gripped her wand and pulled it out of Harry's grasp, pressing it to his throat. He laughed loudly, maniacally at her movement and grabbed her wrist so that her wand was pushing more firmly against his throat.

"Are you going to fight for me, my little warrior?" Ginny placed her palm on his chest to push away from him only to feel her hand almost get swallowed into his chest. Praying that Voldemort didn't know she had her channel open. Ginny pushed herself free from Harry and glared into his eyes.

"No," she replied firmly, her voice sounding braver than she felt. She tucked her wand in the band of her pajama bottoms and in one swift movement clapped her hand over his scar. She heard a low hiss escape Harry's lips and his hands flew up to try and wrench her hands from his forehead, causing her to strengthen the pressure on his scar.

"Leave him alone," she growled, feeling his perspiration trap under her hand. Still she didn't move. "Push him out...push him out, Harry," she muttered and his hands dropped to his side. She saw Harry's eyes squeeze shut and suddenly had the feeling of getting the wind knocked out of her. Harry caught her as she fell on him, still not removing her hand.

"She didn't close her channel."

"Harry, are you all right?"

"What happened?"

"Help her breathe...she needs help breathing..."

"Harry, sit down, I'll do it."

"No...no...I have to..."

She felt a mouth on hers, breathing in and she gasped, cracking her eyes open.

"Close your channel, Ginny," Harry instructed quietly. Ginny nodded numbly and sank back onto the nearest chair, burying her face in her hands. The warm sensations radiated from her chest outward until she felt a confirming seal of emotionlessness. She looked up at Harry, who sat with his eyes closed, breathing steadily, though he was still pale and sweaty.

Ginny looked down at her hands, remember when she had awoken to see them covered in blood. She shuddered, hating the memory of being controlled by Voldemort. Harry opened his eyes and looked at her fearfully.

"Did he possess you?" It was Ron, who Ginny noticed was approaching Harry's side. Harry nodded and stared at the ground in shame.

"But you can't help it," Hermione said from her chair. Ginny noticed she was gripping the arms tightly. Harry frowned at the ground, anger clenching his jaw, and he looked up with his vision darting between Ron and Hermione and finally settling on Ginny.

"He controlled you through me," he said to her in a mix of amazement and anger. Ginny felt herself bubble with emotion and she averted her gaze from him as she tried not to get too upset.

"I'm never opening my channel again," she said resolutely. Harry seemed relieved by this statement and he fell back on his chair. Only then did he realize that people were still surrounding them, watching raptly.

"I have to--go--" Harry stammered, his face turning red. Ginny watched him bolt toward the stairs and disappear behind the bend. She hurried after him a moment later and found him staring at the door to his dormitory. She stood next to him, not saying a word, and slipped her hand in his, squeezing it lightly. Harry turned his head toward her and Ginny saw wetness on his face. She frowned and wiped his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Ginny shook her head and cupped his cheeks between her hands, lowering his face to hers. She pressed her lips to his, gently coaxing his mouth open and he obliged, moving his mouth at almost a painful pace. The corners of his mouth were tense, and she pressed her thumbs to them, willing his mouth to relax. She felt heat rush to her cheeks when Harry's hands drifted down her back and lightly brushed her backside. Pushing herself closer to him, she let him explore, and she linked her arms around his neck as he lifted her briefly off the ground. An uncontrollable sob erupted from her mouth and Harry pulled away from her, staring at her breathlessly.

"He had my affections once, but you have my love now," she whispered. "He can never take that away." Harry reached up a shaking had and brushed the hair away from her face. He leaned down and placed a light, tender kiss on her lips and forehead. She shivered and hugged him tightly, never, ever wanting to let go.