Volcano

Part Three: Eruption

With lashes damp on flushed cheeks,

I close my eyes and grasp his hand.

Then crack my sight for just a peek

to pray a wish on shifty land.

She saw her toes curl the edge of a sputtering volcano. The lava spit furiously, but the flecks of liquid heat merely sunk and disappeared into her skin. The wind sent the spitting wayward and Ginny watched the red droplets swish past her face and travel to the edge of the mountain where an ascending figure came into sight.

The flecks spit wildly at him, but each that landed on his flesh disappeared with a hiss of smoke. Ginny could feel her own skin heat up and swallow the lava whole. The two figures met amid the wind and whirling flecks.

"Rain on me, Harry," Ginny spoke over the rumble of the great mountain. He stepped closer to her and a sheet of cool rain began tumbling from the sky, drenching the two figures and causing the wayward lava to sizzle.

"Harry, do you need me?" Ginny shouted over the rain. Harry's hair was sopping and hanging in his eyes, his glasses were coated with droplets of water. He leaned down, the water from his hair dripping onto Ginny's face. She could feel his breath moving closer to her own...

Rumble...Crash! Boom!

Ginny woke that morning to a wild thunderstorm. The rain outside came down heavily and as Ginny peered through the drapes around her bed and out the window, she found herself wondering if she should go outside to see if the drops would sizzle off of her skin. It was just a dream, she told herself as she glanced over at the sleeping forms of her roommates.

Amy stirred and shifted under her covers, Hadley lay undisturbed in her own dreamland, dead to the world. Thunder rumbled again and a moment later a bright flash cut across the sky. Amy stirred again, sat up, and rubbed her eyes. She yawned deeply and looked out the window, bemused.

"What strange weather," she said, swinging her legs out of her bed and shivering slightly as she pushed her covers off.

"Yeah, strange," Ginny replied as she stepped out of her own bed. She pulled on an old jumper and gently padded to the bathroom.

Steam rose from the shower and clouded the mirror. Ginny squeezed toothpaste on her toothbrush and mechanically moved the bristles of her toothbrush over her teeth as visions of her dream clouded her bleary mind. An image of Harry bending over her at the foot of the stairs to the girls' dormitory seeped into her minds-eye and she choked on her toothpaste. I kissed Harry last night, she thought as she quickly rinsed out her mouth.

She stared back at her reflection in the mirror, which was already beginning to fog up again. It had to have been real, she thought anxiously as she picked up her brush. She gently ran it through the mess of ginger tangles, and a panic fluttered in her chest. She furiously worked out a knot in her hair, tied it back, and put both hands on the sink with her reflection staring back at her.

"What am I supposed to do now?" she whispered to her fading reflection. Ginny wiped away the steam, stared at herself a while longer and shook her head. Pushing up her sleeves, she bent down to wash her face. The cold water shocked her, sending a shiver down to her toes. I'll just follow his lead, if he wants to go slow...

She pressed her face into a fluffy towel and lifted her head to look back at her reflection again. Small tendrils of wet hair clung to her forehead and she pushed them back. Suddenly, she felt sick. What if he doesn't want anything, what if he just wanted to kiss me and be done with it? And Dean, she grimaced at her reflection. I'd only been apart from him a couple hours before--an image of Dean watching her and Harry hold hands in the great hall manifested in her mind. I can't do that to him.

She leaned in and examined her face more closely in the mirror. Her freckles were fading slightly, but still stood out starkly against her fair skin. I can't be that sort of girl either...I'll just have to keep it casual with Harry until things settle down with Dean. She stepped back from the mirror, plastered on a pleasant expression.

"You look lovely, dear," the mirror said before Ginny left the bathroom to get dressed.

Ginny carelessly pushed the eggs around her plate during breakfast. Amy was sitting next to her, carefully biting into her toast and eyeing Andrew Kirke in the corner. Dean walked past and Ginny smiled at him. He nodded back, but made his way down to join Seamus, Lavender and Parvati in the far corner. The fabulous three walked in a moment later.

Harry glanced over at her and then looked back at his other two friends. Hermione spotted her and hurried over.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione said pointedly, plopping down across from her.

"Fine," Ginny responded, placing a forkful of eggs in her mouth. The boys settled on either side of Hermione and began to pile food on their plates. Ginny glanced over at Harry who was gathering his food with forced concentration. She looked back at Hermione who raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

"I'm finished," Ginny said, pushing her food away from herself, "Seeya." Shouldering her bag, she left the Great Hall and searched for any of her classmates. She felt a hand on her back and turned around to see the Amy had followed her out.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" her roommate asked. Ginny smiled weakly.

"Sorry," she mumbled, "I was distracted."

"I know the feeling," Amy responded, glancing over her shoulder at Andrew Kirke. The girls walked up the staircase toward their classroom.

"So," Amy started, "what's up with you and Dean?" Ginny sighed. They would all figure it out eventually...

"We had a row and sorta broke-up," she said casually.

"Oh my God, really?" Amy said in one breath. Ginny nodded and looked resolutely in front of herself.

"I thought you two were so cute...how sad!" Amy went on. "And I never saw that coming--I didn't even think you ever fought! It must've been a big fight to break the two of you up. What was it about anyway?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Ginny responded, her eyes still fixed in front of herself. Amy sounded as though she was about to respond, but then changed her mind. Instead she started telling Ginny all about how Vicky Frobisher was asked by Ben Summers to the next Hogsmeade visit, but she refused and everyone thinks that she's trying to make herself mysterious. Ginny nodded and let out a couple "mmmhmmm"s at all the right places, but soon her mind began to wander.

Of course he couldn't look at me, she thought, recalling Harry at breakfast. It's not like it's easy to all of a sudden, in front of your best mates and even the whole school look at each other and say, "Hey that was a nice kiss last night, wasn't it?" No, definitely not. And Harry's complicated. He'll come to me when he's ready.

The problem was Harry didn't seem to be ready to talk to Ginny each time she had encountered him that day. She watched him with a growing anticipation, but each time she passed him, acknowledged him or even saw him from a distance, he didn't do much more than look at her.

The day stretched to two and soon two turned to a week of a relationship that consisted of silent staring. At first, Ginny took the moments where they locked eyes across the room as romantic. He's just thinking of the perfect way to talk to me, she would daydream as she doodled hearts in the margins of her Ancient Ruins notes. The staring contests turned to frustration when he didn't even attempt to talk to her. Ever.

Hermione and Ginny's roommates, even Hadley, were beginning to notice her moodiness. Fortunately, most of them thought to attribute it to Ginny and Dean's recent break-up. Hermione, however, knew better.

Tuesday morning Ginny was sitting in History of Magic, feeling bored beyond tears and angry at Amy because she and Andrew Kirke were sitting next to each other and writing notes that made Amy giggle. Feeling as though she might snap her quill in half, Ginny quietly excused herself to the bathroom and, as she was attempting to wash the frustration off her face, she saw her bushy haired friend emerge from a cubicle.

"Ginny!" she said in surprise. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!" Ginny leaned in toward the mirror and rubbed at the light circles under her eyes. She shifted her gaze to Hermione's reflection.

"You know, OWL stuff..."

Hermione smiled knowingly and came up beside Ginny to wash her hands.

"Yeah, it's a pretty busy year." She shook the water off her hands. "And it looks like you've been stressed," she continued, indicating Ginny's under eye circles. Ginny frowned and turned to Hermione.

"I s'pose you could say that."

"Do you need any help with...anything?" Hermione said steadily. Ginny pressed her lips together and shook her head.

"Okay," she responded, smoothing her hands down the front of her robes. "But, why don't we eat dinner together or even make some hats later." She smiled faintly and a trace of sadness grazed her eyes. "I miss talking with you." Ginny nodded an 'okay' and Hermione smiled back.

"I should go back to my lesson."

"Me too," Ginny responded, glancing in the mirror quickly. She left the bathroom and slowly made her way back to History of Magic.

As promised, Ginny sat with Hermione at dinner. The conversation, however, was sparse and punctuated by stretches of awkward silence. Ginny was sure that Hermione could see right through her.

Harry and Ron had come to the Great Hall with Hermione, but quickly departed from the girls, causing Ginny to conclude that Harry was most definitely avoiding her. She met his eyes a couple times over the course of the meal, but the third time that he quickly looked away she felt the anger bubbling between her ears. He couldn't, just couldn't string her along--play with her emotions and then shrink away.

"Ginny? Ginny!"

"What?" she snapped, turning to Hermione. Hermione grimaced at the outburst and then her nostrils flared slightly.

"You can't let this rule your life!" she burst out. "Just go talk to him!" Ginny opened her mouth and then closed it. She looked over at Harry and Ron, then back to Hermione.

"Why can't he just talk to me," she whined in frustration. Hermione gave Ginny a 'because-he's-a-boy-and-boys-know-nothing-look' and Ginny buried her face in her hands.

"Hermione," she started, leaning in a little. "Did Harry ever mention any of the stuff that went on between us?" Hermione shook her head.

"No, but since I knew, I decided to impress upon him that you and Dean were no longer together," she responded with a mischievous smile. Ginny smiled weakly back.

"So you don't know that later that night he kissed me. Twice actually." Hermione raised her eyebrows and looked over at Harry and Ron, then back to Ginny.

"And he's been avoiding you for a week." It wasn't a question. Ginny nodded and felt a scowl creep across her face.

"Should I say something to him?" Hermione asked. Ginny shook her head.

"No...no, I reckon I should just confront him," she said shakily, rising from her seat and glancing back over at Harry.

"Now?" Hermione said in disbelief. Ginny smirked despite herself.

"No not now. I just need to go think things through...or just get out of his presence for a second."

"Yeah?" Hermione chuckled lightly. "I s'pose I'll see you later then."

"Thanks," Ginny smiled.

"Ginny, don't worry...I think he likes you too. I really do, but--"

"Boys are thick, I know." Ginny frowned in Harry's direction. "Thanks Hermione. Seeya later." She took a breath, turned around and left for her dormitory.

As soon as she reached her bed, she threw herself onto it dramatically and curled herself in the covers.

Boys were sometimes prats, that she knew, but somehow she expected a little more from Harry. That's what years of infatuation does I suppose, she thought sardonically, pulling her covers over her head. She felt hidden beneath the folds of the blanket. It was safe, distraction free, and it gave her just the right amount of isolation to think.

It really was time for something to be said--even past due, or else Ginny thought she might tear out her hair. She curled herself in a tight ball and cushioned herself even more in her covers until she felt safe. The door creaked open a moment later and she heard Hadley distinct footsteps.

"Honestly, Ginny," Hadley said loudly, "Get over it already. You weren't even going out that long!" Ginny peeked out from her covers and stared at Hadley.

"I know," she responded calmly. Hadley raised a disbelieving eyebrow to Ginny, who gave her a small smile and kicked off her covers. "I need to go," she said, swinging her legs off the bed. Hadley rolled her eyes and sat on her bed; Ginny left, her determination strengthening.

She marched down to the common room, which was void of Harry, and then up to the sixth year boy's dormitory. She swung the door open, with an amount of force that made her wince slightly, and then stopped cold. Seamus and Dean were sitting on their beds, talking.

Their conversation stopped abruptly and Ginny couldn't help but stare at Dean. "Erm...hey..." she stammered out.

Seamus looked between Ginny and Dean, shifted uncomfortably and then started staring at a corner. Dean continued to watch Ginny quizzically and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word, Ginny burst out: "Have you seen my brother?"

Dean closed his mouth and Ginny felt a light wave of relief. But soon she began twisting her hands together while she waited for an answer from the increasingly silent boys.

"It appears not...thanks anyway." She smiled at them, but Dean looked down.

"He might still be at the dinner," Seamus said carefully, eying Dean apologetically.

"Thanks." Ginny quickly left the room, closed the door behind herself and leaned back, blowing out a long breath. She closed her eyes to steady herself.

"Er--hey, Ginny." Ginny's eyes flew open to see Harry standing before her. "What are you doing here?" Ginny drew herself up to full height and than smacked Harry on the arm. "Wha--?"

"Why"-smack-"is"-smack-"it"-smack, "for an entire week"-extra hard smack-"you don't even talk to me?" she bit out, giving Harry one last big smack. He looked at her, baffled, and then mumbled a sorry.

"You can't just do something like that and ignore me," she said, dropping her arm.

"But--you kissed me first," Harry said, rubbing his battered arm. Ginny gawked at Harry and was starting to wonder why she liked him so much.

"Well I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking," she said sarcastically. Harry looked uneasily at her and dropped his hand from his arm.

"Does--does that mean that I shouldn't have, you know, done it again?" Ginny pursed her lips and looked away. How can I still like him so much even when I hate him? She slowly turned back to him and shrugged her shoulders.

"I think you need to decide that." Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably, then gripped her wrist and took a step forward. Ginny shook her head and pulled it out of his grasp.

"If you want to talk about this, then come find me." Harry shot her a confused look, but Ginny left, deciding that he needed to be alone with his thoughts.

Of all the things in the world he could be, why does he have to be so thick? Ginny thought as she left Harry in her wake. She half wanted Harry to chase after her and half wanted him to go away. Or maybe 70% of her wanted him to chase after her and 30% wanted him to go away. Or perhaps it was more like 80-20. Ginny sighed and headed for the library to get her mind fixated on something...anything else.

For one of the only times of her life, the thick volumes lining the shelves and the hushed voices that weighed heavily upon the library felt welcoming and Ginny sat in the corner with a pile of Transfiguration books for her next essay.

Her concentration, however, was becoming increasingly thin and each time she touched her quill to the parchment, she could barely get a word out. To make matters worse, every time someone entered the library, she would anxiously look up from her work.

She saw Susan Bones walk in with another Hufflepuff and felt a surge of jealousy. She's the reason he wouldn't talk to me, I know it, she thought bitterly. The accusation made her feel strangely better. She glared at the two Hufflepuffs as they obliviously found a table and began spreading out their books.

Looking down at her Transfiguration assignment, Ginny suddenly realized that she was sitting on the edge of her seat. She pushed herself back and stared at her parchment, on which she had only written: The process of

Opening nearest book, she absently flicked through the pages. There was movement at the door, but it was only a couple of first years. Ginny placed her quill on the parchment again, but then dropped it, leaving a spot of ink where the tip was pressed.

Harry was in the library--he had actually come to find her.

Had Ginny not been so overcome with disbelief, she might have been more excited. He met her eyes, gave her an awkward smile and shoved his hands in his pockets. He stopped at her table, looked down at her and cleared his throat.

"Studying?"

"Sort of," Ginny said, pushing her papers aside so that he would sit down.

"Do you have a moment?" Ginny suddenly had a barrage of butterflies in her stomach, all of which died out as suddenly as they first came when she noticed Susan Bones coming to the table. She smiled at Ginny and Ginny curtly nodded back.

"Harry?" Susan said lightly as she approached them. Harry turned around quickly, "Er, hi Susan," he said, looking quickly to Ginny and back to Susan. Susan crinkled her brow and looked worriedly at Ginny.

"I was wondering," she started slowly, looking back to Harry, "about next weekend..." she trailed, looking uncomfortably to the floor. Harry was watching her with puzzlement until she looked back at him diffidently.

"Okay," she started again, breathing out. "You know Hannah? She and Ernie, well they sort of broke-up and they had plans for next weekend, but now Hannah will be alone, and she's having a hard time...and I really think as her friend..." Harry nodded solemnly. "I need to be there for her," Susan finished apologetically.

"S'okay," Harry said with a small smile. Susan smiled gratefully back to him.

"Maybe the next Hogsmeade weekend?" Harry shrugged his shoulders. Susan pressed her lips together and looked down. "Er, well thanks for understanding," she mumbled. Ginny felt a little sorry for Susan as she watched her walk back to her table.

"Er--" Harry started, turning back to Ginny.

"You need to talk?"

"It might take a while," he responded anxiously. Ginny wordlessly stood up and got her belongings together. She could feel Harry watching her movement and her cheeks grew hot.

"Shall we go back to the common room?" Her voice sounded unnaturally high. Harry shook his head.

"It might sound stupid, but there usually aren't people in the Owlery."

"The Owlery?" Ginny said, wrinkling her nose.

"We...I just need to talk with you privately."

"In the Owlery?"

"Where do you suggest we go then?" Ginny shrugged her shoulders and looked at him amusedly, a small flutter returning to her stomach.

"The Owlery," she responded with a half smile.

The Owlery was indeed empty and Ginny dropped her bag in the corner, hearing the hay and bones crunch beneath it, just as Harry came up behind her. She turned around and looked at him expectantly.

"I--I don't know where to start," he said, looking down. Ginny crossed her arms and started playing with her thumbnail.

"How about telling me why you avoided me for a week." Harry looked up at her and grimaced.

"I--" he started, "I don't know. Well, maybe I know, but I don't really." Ginny put up a hand to stop him.

"Okay, start earlier than that."

"All right." Harry rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "That book--the one we sorta fought over? Dumbledore is having me study it because he reckons..." He trailed off pensively. "No, I s'pose I have to start earlier than that too," he said to himself.

Ginny couldn't help but swell inwardly at the difficulty he was having spitting out his words. He took a deep breath and looked squarely at Ginny. "D'you remember anything about the Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries?" Ginny felt the smile melt off her face and she nodded.

"Yeah, it was broken, wasn't it?"

"It was, but--" he took a deep breath again and Ginny's arms dropped to her side. "But, that Prophecy was spoken to Dumbledore."

He walked over to one of the large, open windows and stared out at the light drizzle. Ginny came up behind him and shivered as the breeze came through more prominently.

She remembered the Prophecy, of course she did, but she didn't know what it meant, just that it was about You-know-who, and maybe Harry. Harry turned around abruptly, causing Ginny to take a couple steps backward.

"The Prophecy basically says that I either I have to kill Voldemort or he'll kill me--that I'm the only one who can kill him." He spoke tonelessly and Ginny felt like each of his words were hitting her numbly. She stared at him until the impact of the words prodded her eyes to well up.

"You...have...to..." she started.

"I have to find out where I can defend against him, and--and even become more powerful than him." Ginny pulled her mouth in tightly and nodded. "The book I've been reading working with, it's for Kaigdin magic. A type of magic that is produced by emotions. At the Ministry last June, Voldemort possessed me, but couldn't stay in me because of what I felt for Sirius after he--" Harry faltered and Ginny stepped closer so she could wrap her arms around him.

He hugged her tightly and she rubbed his back soothingly. She could hear the rain grow harder and coldness clench her insides. Harry pulled away slowly and walked back to the window.

"Dumbledore reckons that what makes me more powerful than Voldemort is my emotions. So I'm learning Kaigdin magic." He looked at her weakly, a small cloud of his breath rising. Ginny could feel the tears pooling in her eyes and she did nothing to stop them from falling.

"So, I haven't talked to you because--I don't know--no, I do. It's just too much. Everything I have to do..."

Ginny felt more tears slide down her cheeks and she wiped them away. Harry turned toward her, staring apologetically.

"Harry," she started, stepping closer to him. She took his hand and ran her thumb lightly over his knuckles. They both watched the movement of her thumb until she met his gaze. "What you have to do, that's horrible, but it doesn't change how I feel about you." Her breathing shallowed after her admission, but she held his gaze, which had softened in a surprised relief. She started moving her thumb again.

"But I have to fight him," he said quietly. "I have to kill him or I'm dead and--and he wins." Ginny felt the itch of tears hit the back of her throat again and she spread her hand over his, gripping it tightly.

"It's always a risk," she said, choking slightly. Harry reached up and traced the trail of tears on her face.

"I like you Ginny, but--"

"If you want me, I'll wait for you," Ginny cut in. "If you want me now," she continued, "then I'll risk it."

Harry's arms dropped to his sides and he stepped back. The pounding of the rain echoed in Ginny's ears and she watched him step backwards. She shut her eyes and grimaced; he was walking away from her. She opened her eyes and he was standing a foot away from her, but still facing her. Her breathing became strangled and she let her mouth fall open, welcoming more chilly air.

"You...would...want..." Harry started, but stopped because Ginny started to cry. Really cry, while Harry watched her apprehensively.

"Come here," Ginny sniffed when she finally had the breath. Harry stepped closer to her and she pulled him into an embrace. She cried into him, stroked his hair and willed him to lean on her. She didn't want to let go.

When the tears had subsided, still she held him while she stared outside. It was starting to hail. Harry placed his chin over the top of her head and twisted the ends of her hair with his fingers. Ginny looked up at him.

"I still want to be with you," she said in a whisper almost overpowered by the erratic tapping of hail. Harry nodded and smiled sadly. Ginny felt the corners of her mouth turn downwards and she leaned her head against his chest again. The tapping grew heavier.

"Me too," he said finally. Ginny looked up at him quickly.

"Yeah?"

Fear spread across his face, but he nodded. Ginny almost laughed, but instead she kissed him. His lips were warm against the cold breeze. His breathing was steady against her. She clung to him. She felt him clinging back, grasping her hands in his.

To be with him with eyes squeezed tight--

Or wide open, with death in sight.