Volcano

Part One: Longing

Well-up and boil over my ears,

then shrink back where you belong.

Skip around quaint thoughtless fears

to wonder and wait, not wanting wrong.

September the First landed on a Tuesday and it was with a mournful tune that Ginny left the Burrow for her fifth year. Not that she didn't love her school, her friends and her life at Hogwarts, but the summer had provided a temporary solace from the impending weight of her fears. Even if the summer felt dreary, as if the weather decided to take part in mourning Sirius, at least she could feel safe for a while.

The whistle of Hogwarts Express reminded her that life certainly did go on outside the walls of her familiar rickety house and life, it seemed, was growing increasingly unfamiliar. The train chugged on while her eyes took in each wisp of red-fading-purple-fading-blue behind the prominent grey clouds. "It's been a miserable summer," she sighed, fogging the window with her breath.

Harry sat across from her, engrossed in yet another book; he had been reading all sorts of strange books since she had seen him midsummer. He didn't seem to notice her comment, so she turned to her boyfriend who held her feet in his lap. He gave her a small smile. "Maybe this year will be better," Dean said casually.

Ginny smiled at him and turned back toward the window. Her optimism was overstretched at the moment but she didn't feel like relinquishing her cynicism on her new boyfriend. She might scare him away. Dusty blue whipped across the windows as the train sped on.

Ginny pressed her forehead against the cool glass and stealthily turned her eyes toward Harry. He had become even more withdrawn this summer--after the incident in the Department of Mysteries which she recalled with a painful twinge. The loss of Sirius hurt her deeply, and she wondered how much harder it was for Harry.

She felt Dean playing with her feet and she relaxed the tension she hadn't noticed hunched in her shoulders. Dean was great--they had been writing all summer and had decided that they should become official. Ginny had assured him that her brothers weren't a threat, especially since she'd had one boyfriend before. In fact, they probably wouldn't even notice unless she and Dean were obvious. Ginny wasn't too keen on snogging in the middle of the Great Hall, so she supposed they would be safe in that aspect.

The train sped on as the sky grew darker. Dean moved his hand to hers and intertwined their fingers. Ginny shifted so that she could hold his hand more comfortably and glanced again at Harry.

***

The common room was thinning, but Ginny knew that she would be occupying it for quite a while longer. She had a pile of essays that she kicked herself for procrastinating on. Nothing I can do about it now except finish them, she thought despondently, twirling her quill in her fingers.

"Why was I so stupid?" she exclaimed, throwing her quill across the room. Dean looked up from his parchment and amusedly over at her quill.

"Why would you say that?"

"I should have started this before nine-o'clock rolled around...now I'm going to be up all night!"

"But 'before nine 'o'clock' was a good thing," Dean responded, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. Ginny pressed her lips together, suppressing a large smile that was growing across her own mouth. Dean snorted softly and went back to his parchment. Ginny retrieved her quill and gloomily returned to her Potions essay. Her mind clicked into place and, not long after, her hands were flying while all of the information she had soaked up regurgitated onto the page. She had made a good headway when she heard the portrait hole swing open.

"...no its not! Why don't you just relax for a moment?"

"I am relaxed, but I know how to be responsible too. You, on the other hand, wouldn't understand the concept!"

"I do," pause, "yes, I do! You just don't know how to be responsible without being annoyingly particular!"

"Argh!"

"I'm going to bed," a voice murmured, breaking up the argument. Ginny glanced over and saw Harry leaving a flustered Ron and Hermione behind. Hermione was staring after him, conflicted, but Ron's scowl was still directed at Hermione. Hermione turned back to Ron and shot daggers at him. "I'm going to bed too, goodnight Ronald." She turned on her heal and headed toward the girls' dormitory. Ron threw up his hands in frustration and started toward the boys'.

"I feel sorry for Harry sometimes," Ginny said when Ron was out of earshot.

"Why's that?" Dean mumbled with his eyes intent on his parchment.

"His best friends are involved in this overly dramatic love-hate relationship that he has to endure along with all the other rubbish life seems to throw at him. I think I might go mad if I had to spend the majority of my time with a bickering Ron and Hermione."

"Hmmmm," Dean responded. Ginny frowned and returned to her essay.

The components of Moonstone can be harmful.... Surely Dean would be able to sympathize with Harry too. After all, he must get a healthy dose of Ron and Hermione, being in a large portion of the same lessons as them. Ginny tapped her quill, and looked back at Dean.

"He does seem a bit weighed down, wouldn't you say?" Ginny pressed.

"Who, Ron? He just seems infatuated to me." Dean said, glancing up from his parchment quickly.

"No, Harry...I mean he's been acting so...I dunno...glum, wouldn't you say?"

"I s'pose,"

"So, if I was depressed, I don't think it would help to have my best friends with their own thing going on," Ginny trailed, looking into the fire. "I reckon it makes him feel more isolated," she added, turning back towards Dean.

Dean looked up from his parchment and stared at her. His face was expressionless, but she smiled at him. He paused and then grinned back at her. Ginny returned to her almost completed Potions essay, and Dean stretched his hand before focusing once again on his own parchment.

Ginny didn't get much sleep that night, but Dean had stayed up with her as she finished her mountain of essays. Before the two of them went off to their dormitories, Dean handed Ginny the parchment he had been fixated on the entire night. It was a beautiful drawing of her. She smiled and gently kissed him on the cheek before going to bed.

***

The sun finally peaked around the clouds in mid-September, providing the Hogwarts grounds with perhaps the first relief from the steady grayness since the term had started. Ginny and Dean spent a Saturday afternoon by the lake, basking in the warmth they had missed all summer. As the sun sank down, dusting the sky with wisps of purple, the couple headed back to the castle.

"Are you still planning to try out for Chaser?" Dean asked, lacing his fingers with Ginny's as they walked up the grassy slope.

"I think so...I don't see why I wouldn't."

"You know you'll make it anyway." Ginny punched him playfully.

"You don't know that," she said slyly.

Dean raised his eyebrows, "No?" He put on a mock serious face. "Perhaps you won't make it then," he teased. "I reckon the Captain might discriminate against you since you played last year." Ginny quieted.

"I wish I hadn't played last year though," she said softly.

"Why's that?" Dean asked, slightly taken aback.

"Circumstances were...I dunno...I feel like I took it from Harry or something."

"You didn't...c'mon, you filled in 'cause you had to."

"I suppose you're right," Ginny said, squeezing Dean's hand, but at that moment her gaze caught sight of Harry sitting under a tree. Once again he was alone. The painful twinge in her chest grew to a deeper pang as she passed him.

"Speaking of," Dean mentioned softly, taking note of where Ginny was looking. She nodded. "He does seem a bit down," Dean said, nodding in Harry's direction. Ginny turned to Dean.

"He's going through hell," she said, her face grim. Dean's brow creased and he nodded silently. Wind rustled through the grass and swayed around Harry.

"Do you wanna go back to the common room?" Dean asked. Ginny smiled at him and pulled him by the hand back up the grassy slope. The grass at her feet was graying as the sun died down and an invisible brick seemingly pressed down on her chest. She swallowed painfully. Harry cleared his throat in the distance and she turned toward the sound.

"Dean...I...there's something I have to do." Dean looked at her inquisitively, but released her hand.

"Come get me when you're done," he said with a weak smile. Ginny smiled back gratefully and watched him walk into the castle. She took a breath, turned around, and headed down the slope toward Harry.

Harry was writing in some sort of diary and as Ginny approached him, she couldn't distinguish what he was recording as words.

"What are you working on?" Ginny asked when she was in earshot.

"What?"

"What's this?" she asked, indicating the pages filled with scribbles that, Ginny observed, looked a lot like a drawing of vomit. He closed the diary and set to the side. Ginny sat next to him. "What are you working on?" she asked again.

"It's nothing," he said quietly.

"You've been working hard on something all summer--"

"It's for Dumbledore," Harry said quickly.

"Oh."

Harry wasn't in the mood for talking, but he rarely was. Especially with her. Ginny had watched him become increasingly reserved throughout the summer, and something told her it was for good reason. Something else told her that he needed help. What exactly he needed, she couldn't tell, but she wanted to help. She drew her knees to her chest and studied the grass in front of her. It was now or never. She took a breath and mustered her courage.

"Harry...er...I don't know how to say this but..." she looked up at his face. He was giving her complete attention. It felt unusual and she faltered in her speech. A small blush crept to her cheeks and she turned her attention to the grass again, splitting each blade with her thumbnail.

"What is it?" Harry asked gently. Ginny looked to him again, but her mouth wasn't working properly. A panic began to flutter in her chest and all her thoughts seemingly tumbled out of her ear leaving her brain stagnate, her mouth slightly open and her eyes fixated on a spot just over Harry's left shoulder.

Harry hesitantly placed his hand on her arm, "Are you okay?"

Ginny didn't respond. Instead she stared at his hand on her arm and found herself wishing that she was with Harry and not Dean.

"I--I just wanted to see if you were okay actually," Ginny said quickly.

Harry withdrew his hand and nodded solemnly. He was back in his shell and Ginny knew she had no chance of reaching him.

"It's just that you've been different and I've...well, we've all been worried," she said, looking at him tentatively. He nodded again silently. "I know you have Ron and Hermione, and even other people that you may prefer, but if you ever need anything..." her breath seemed to run out as unwelcome thoughts trickled into her mind. What did she mean by anything? Harry remained silent as he studied his hands. She drew a breath again and placed her hand on his arm, "...if you need anything at all," she said with confidence steadying in her voice, "I'm here."

Harry surveyed her face for a moment, reached up and quickly patted the top of her hand that was still resting on his arm. "Thanks," he said with a small smile.

Ginny shifted onto her knees towards Harry and gave him a hug. She could tell he felt awkward by the way he loosely responded to the embrace. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I mean it. If you need someone, don't forget about me." With that said, she rose from the hug to stand. Harry's eyes were cast down and he was rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Erm, so I suppose I'll see you in the common room," Ginny said, feeling a tad embarrassed. Harry nodded and then stood up himself.

"Its getting dark," he said in response to her questioning expression.

"Oh. Right. I'll walk back with you," Ginny said as she watched Harry place his diary and some other strange book in his bag. The two of them trekked up to Gryffindor Tower in silence while Ginny silently re-ran their conversation over and over in her head.

Why did I do that? He obviously has other friends to confide in, not me she thought miserably as they climbed another staircase. Her thoughts grew worried, I wonder if he thought I was suggesting...she looked at Harry, whose demeanor read 'do not disturb' with his arms folded across his chest and his mouth drawn into a thin line. No...no...he would never think of that. He's never been interested in me anyway, so it's not like he would read that into what I just said.

When the two of them reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, the desire that he would read that into her offer started to bubble over in Ginny's thoughts. Harry looked at her, a small smile resting at the corners of his mouth and her breath quickened despite herself. He murmured the password and held the portrait open for her.

Ginny clamored through the portrait hole and saw Dean sitting by the fire with Seamus playing Exploding Snap. She suddenly felt disgusted with herself. Dean noticed her and beamed. Ginny forced a wide grin in response.

***

The wind rushed through Ginny's hair as she soared around the Quidditch pitch, executing her best Chaser moves. She passed the Quaffle to Alicia Spinnet who swerved around Colin Creevey and passed back to Ginny giving her an easy in to score. Ginny smiled to herself. She had been doing rather well this tryout and, though she didn't want to get her hopes up, she was sure that Alicia would give her a spot on the team.

Alicia blew a whistle signaling that they all should land and called the Beater hopefuls forward for their portion of the tryout. Ginny made her way to Dean, who had come to watch her, and plopped down next to him.

"You looked really good up there," Dean said, smiling widely.

"Thanks," said Ginny breathlessly, "I felt really on today."

Dean went to put an arm around her but she stopped him, "I'm all sweaty," she responded to his look of confusion.

"So, er, after this is over, d'you wanna go to the library or something," Dean said with a casual wink. Ginny giggled.

"The library, huh? Well, I suppose we could go to the library later." Dean suppressed a large grin and leaned Ginny back into his arm. "Dean, I'm all gross!" Ginny protested, pushing his arms off of her. Dean shrugged and rubbed a lock of her hair in between his fingers.

Ginny glanced around the pitch and located Harry sitting next to Hermione, both with their eyes drawn upward at the players. Everything about him seemed lonely.

Ginny sighed. I wish I could help him. She leaned her chin on her hands and continued to watch him. She sighed again. I wish I could be someone to him.

"What are you thinking about?" Dean asked, still playing with her hair.

"Nothing..." Ginny murmured, gazing absently at Harry. She turned to Dean. "Why? What are you thinking about?" she said flirtatiously. Dean, however, did not smile.

"You think about him a lot, don't you?" His voice was low and Ginny felt her face grow hot, but forced herself to be calm.

"What?" she said in mock confusion.

Dean frowned, "You think about Harry a lot, don't you?" he repeated a little louder. Ginny averted her eyes from his.

"I just worry about him, that's all."

"Are you sure that's all?" Dean said, gently turning her face back to his. Ginny nodded and locked her eyes on his own.

"That's all," she said, reaching for his hand. For the rest of Quidditch tryouts, Ginny kept her outward attention to Dean or the Quaffle.

***

"...and I'm pretty sure that Colin likes this fourth year in Ravenclaw. It's quite amusing to watch him stumble all over himself around her..." rang the voice of Ginny's robust roommate Hadley.

The girls in Ginny's dormitory were painting their toenails and giggling over gossip. Amy, one of Ginny's roommates, had roped her into joining the toenail party, but Ginny wasn't interested in participating in the gossip. Her thoughts were elsewhere and quite frankly were a little to heavy to share with her roommates.

"...and Andrew Kirke was looking quite handsome today, wouldn't you say Amy?" said Hadley rather loudly, her blonde curls bouncing. A deep crimson crept up to Amy's brown roots and she focused intently on smoothing polish over her big toe. She cleared her throat softly and slowly looked up at Hadley.

"I bumped into him, literally, three times today...d'you think that means something?" The room filled with giggles and Ginny couldn't help but feel the corners of her mouth twitch up. It could mean something, but Amy was also unnecessarily clumsy. The girls carried on about Amy's encounters with Andrew for quite sometime, but Ginny was uncertain how long it went on. Her thoughts were off somewhere else again.

At breakfast she had noticed Harry nodding off in his porridge; she came across him in the library after lessons, and he was asleep on his book and, as she headed up to her dormitory this evening, his head was resting in hands atop one of those strange books again. He was fast asleep. I should mention something to Hermione...he's wearing himself out, Ginny thought as she dotted her baby toenail with purple.

"...and today he looked at me. I mean, it's probably dumb to start liking someone...I dunno that unattainable, but it's hard not to, ya know?" Hadley was still rambling a little too loudly, but Ginny didn't heed it much mind. Hadley switched crushes every five minutes. Ginny uncomfortably recalled the time that Hadley asked her to set her up with Ron. Describing the situation as awkward was an understatement.

"...d'you reckon he would, Ginny?"

"Huh?" Ginny looked up from her toes into her roommates rosy face.

"Do you think that Harry Potter would go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Ginny's jaw dropped. "You like Harry now?"

"Well, yeah. It's not like a million other girls don't like him, but I dunno...there's something about him..." Hadley's small blue eyes clouded dreamily.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, asking Harry to Hogmeade," Ginny said quickly. Hadley's attention snapped out of reverie.

"Why's that?" she responded almost accusingly. Ginny sighed.

"It's just that Harry is...he's only really liked one girl and he liked her for ages before something happened. And I know of others girls who like him, but he...I dunno...I guess he has to choose the girl first. Do you know how many girls asked him to the Yule Ball? And he turned them all down."

Hadley narrowed her eyes, "Are you saying that Harry doesn't like me? I saw him look at me today Ginny! And it wasn't subtle or anything, he looked right at me, directly in the face!" Ginny inwardly rolled her eyes, but fought to contain her annoyance.

"I'm not saying he couldn't like you Hadley, but I'm pretty certain he isn't thinking about girls right now," Ginny trailed off, plucking lint off the hem of her faded yellow pajama bottoms. "His mind is weighed down by too much to think about girls," she added, almost to herself.

Hadley scoffed at her and turned to her own bright pink toenails. An uneasy silence settled over the room as Ginny finished her last toenail and she shifted uncomfortably as small huffs came from Hadley's direction. She looked up at Amy, who gave her a weak smile.

"Right," Ginny said as she screwed the top back on the nail polish bottle, "I'm going to find Dean." She hopped off her bed awkwardly so not to ruin her newly polished toes and carefully padded down to the Common Room.

Dean wasn't in the common room, but Harry was. And he was still asleep, his head in his hands and elbows resting on that strange book. A group of third years sat around a table working on essays, but otherwise the room was empty.

Ginny walked toward Harry, uncomfortably placing her weight on her heals because of her sticky toenails, and gazed at his book. It didn't look to make much sense. She bent down and tried to decipher the markings, but they looked like nothing she had seen before. Carefully she inched the book from beneath Harry, determined to figure out what he was spending so much time doing. Sticking her finger where Harry had left it open, she flipped the book over to read the cover. Kaigdin Magic: The Art of Passion and Power by Andrea Sorocco. Curiously she flipped to the first page and began to read.

Kaigdin magic is a force that dwells in most wizards to some minor degree, but the force does not often reside in large amounts in a single body. This magic is made most powerful when coupled with strong feeling or passion. Moreover, it is one of the more powerful channels of magic when executed by means of emotion.

Ginny looked at Harry, who was still dozing and quickly turned back to the introduction.

This magic has been used most heavily in regions of Spain; however, as it is difficult to control, it has been outlawed. Nonetheless, use of this old magic in small doses is still legal in some of the more northern regions, including Holland--

Harry stirred and Ginny quickly stuck the book in the band of her pajama bottoms and sat down. Harry looked blearily at Ginny and took off his glasses to rub his eyes.

"Whsta time?" he mumbled groggily, placing his glasses back on.

"Ten," Ginny almost squeaked, feeling the book dig deeper into the small of her back. She leaned back to conceal it further and smiled nervously at him.

Harry looked around and frowned, "Have you seen my book?"

"Your book?" Ginny said, trying to smooth the quiver in her voice. Harry stood up, brow creased, and looked around.

"I swear I was just reading it--"

"Harry, maybe you're working yourself too hard," Ginny offered, attempting to distract him from the book snugly pressed behind her. Harry frowned at her, and turned over the cushions of the chair he was just in. There was no book, of course, and Harry slammed the cushions back in frustration, causing Ginny to jump slightly, and plopped heavily back onto the chair.

"I'm not doing enough," he muttered, before placing his head back into his hands. He looked exhausted. Ginny frowned, leaned forward and placed her hand on his.

"Harry," she said softly, "there's no shame in asking for help." Harry looked up at her wearily and raised his eyebrows.

She took a breath and continued, "You've been falling asleep everywhere, there's shadows under your eyes and even Ron has mentioned that you aren't talking to anyone like you used to." Harry averted his gaze to the fire, but Ginny kept going, "We all really want to be there for you, but you have to let us."

Harry didn't respond. Ginny inched closer to him.

"Please..." she said weakly. Harry looked back to her, his eyes slightly hallow. The pang in Ginny's chest increased.

"Some things I have to do on my own," he said solemnly.

"But--but, if you're trying to learn something new, we could help," Ginny stammered, "Lord knows that Hermione could at least..." Harry drew his mouth tightly and focused on something behind Ginny. "Harry..." Ginny said gently. He didn't look at her. "Harry, please," but he didn't budge. Ginny huffed and threw herself back into the chair. "You don't have to be cold about it," she scoffed, abandoning her gentle tone.

Harry turned to her, his eyes faintly flashing. "Have you seen my book, Ginny?" he said seriously. Ginny scowled.

"What's so important about this book?" she quipped irritably.

"I can't talk about it," he responded moodily, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. Ginny threw up her arms in frustration.

"Okay," she said exasperated, "fine, you don't have to tell me. I don't need to know. And you have Ron and Hermione. Confide in them. I didn't expect you to want to talk with me about this sort of stuff anyway, but you need to talk to someone..." Harry was staring at her oddly, but shook his head. "What?" Ginny asked quickly. Harry rose from the chair. "I'm really sorry that I keep badgering you Harry, it's just that I'm worried...I know it can be annoying, but I'm watching you run yourself ragged...just tell me if I can help." To Ginny's surprise, Harry snorted. Ginny gaped at him.

"Two years ago I hardly believed Ron when he said you were talkative," he said, shaking his head again. "But you're right, I'm kinda worn out," he said, turning toward the boys' dormitory. Ginny looked at him, bewildered, and rose from her own chair to go to her room.

"Ginny?" Harry said and she was placing her hand on the banister. She turned and took a step toward him, "Hmmm?" she responded, feeling a bit dazed.

He stepped closer to her and locked his eyes to hers, "Have you seen my book?" he asked, searching her eyes.

Ginny ran out of breath again and stared back at him. He was looking at her so intensely she thought he could read her mind, but she was glad he wasn't because the single thought running through her head was: kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me...

Slowly, he reached his arm around her, oh God, is he really going to? placed his hand on her back, kiss me now, kiss me right now, and slid his book out from the band of her pajama bottoms.

Ginny felt heat rush to her face and she turned away, horrified. Of course he wasn't going to kiss her, and now he's probably furious with her. She chanced a glance back at him. His mouth was tight, and his eyes flashed as though daring her to apologize. Ginny wanted to flee, but she was rooted to the floor, her mouth dry and the heat of embarrassment radiating off of her cheeks. They stared at each other and Ginny could feel her chest rising and falling rapidly. Harry broke the silence.

"So, you decided you would find out, even if it wasn't from me," he said in a low voice. Ginny felt tears prick her eyes, she willed them back and pursed her lips. "I...I thought you would understand that I can't talk about this yet..." Harry faltered and screwed up his face, obviously trying to hold something back. Ginny swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'm sorry," she strangled out, opening her eyes to look him full in the face. Harry opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head and turned back to the boys' dormitory.

"Harry," Ginny called after him after she found her voice. He paused but kept going. "Harry!" called out again, tailing him up the stairs to grip his arm. He turned toward her, his face slightly weary. She winced inwardly, but mustered her courage.

"I'm really, really sorry, but I only read the first page, and really the first paragraph at that...and so, your secret is still your secret...I can't even tell what that book means," she laughed nervously, "erm, so don't worry, I'll wait to hear it from you. But do you think you could forgive me? I feel so stupid and--" Harry placed his hand over her mouth.

"Okay," he said quietly, "but maybe--maybe you can wait until I ask for your help, because, you're right, I do have Ron and Hermione, and it's just..."

But he never completed the thought. Instead he removed his hand from her mouth, frowned at it and dropped it to his side.

"See ya later Ginny," he murmured as he turned and headed up the remaining stairs to his room. Ginny stared after him feeling more foolish than when she had put her elbow in the butter dish in front of him. And that was saying something, because she had tagged the butter dish incident as one of her more embarrassing moments. He would be better off without my help she thought as she gloomily trudged back to her room. I should just leave him alone.

And so she did. For a good week Ginny succeeded in keeping her distance and Harry appeared to be happier. Ginny never thought her presence had been such a burden on him, but if being separated meant he did better, then Ginny decided it was better for him to be happy than with her. And she still had Dean...