Rating:
PG-13
House:
Astronomy Tower
Genres:
Drama Romance
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 04/13/2005
Updated: 04/13/2005
Words: 1,865
Chapters: 1
Hits: 363

That Unknown Power

korepersephone

Story Summary:
Harry's world was dark and bleak until Ginny came into his life. He thinks about the past, Ginny's sacrifice, and her part in the winning of the war. Post-Ootp

Posted:
04/13/2005
Hits:
363


This would never have happened, I thought, if we had never gotten involved. But then, a softer voice in my mind countered, I wouldn't be alive right now if the both of us hadn't been with each other.

I sighed; yes that was true...Ginny, wonderful Ginny. I wouldn't have believed it six months ago, but under that tree, the one where I found solitude under, she had approached me them, quite shyly almost, just for a casual chat. I had monopolized the conversation in our first few meetings, having a lot on my mind at the moment. But she was there, sweet Ginny, all the time.

She listened to my troubles: Hopes (though there were precious few), dreams, worries, and fears...mostly fears. We all had a lot to fear then...not anymore. She was the real hero, not me.

It plagued my sleep that memory did, in the depths of a night so dark that the rest of the world was dead to me...if it wasn't for her...


I had taken to spending much of my free time alone, under that tree on the edge of the lake, the one where Ron, Hermione, and myself liked to do our homework under during the warm and sunny days. Sunny...not so now, it looked as if a storm would erupt at any moment, the gray clouds seemed to only hang above me.

I was feeling an affinity with the weather at the moment...then she turned up. I knew I was easy to find, but until that moment, I had felt as insignificant as an ant. But she, oh yes, she was a beautiful ray of light; the vibrancy of her personality matched the hue of her hair. Ginny, wonderful Ginny.

Of course, at the time, I had thought of her only as a friend, one of the best, though, for she brightened my deep, dark thoughts that were so clouded with fear and doubt. She listened as none had or would even dare to. She bridged the gap between the rest of the world and myself. She gave me encouragement and...hope.

I knew it was her way of helping me when no one else could and, yes, I began to love her for it, her patience was a boon to me and she herself was the only sunray at the end of my tunnel of storm clouds. I forgot the fact that she was my best friend's sister and almost a sister unto myself, but now, she was more than that.

Many successive days were spent, just the two of us, under that tree. Sometimes I would feel guilty about laying my problems on her when she no doubt had ones of her own, but she would sigh and quietly reply, "I don't mind," as unselfishly as anyone could hope for.

That tree became our sanctuary as mind, body, heart, and soul we began to gravitate toward each other, as two birds in enchantment would fly toward the moon. One as slow as a dull green turtle, the other with the speed of a vivid crimson phoenix.

We were together then, I remember, inseparable as the wind and air, one not able to exist without the other. Birds in flight, yes, I smile, we reveled in our freedom. Those long months she was there for me, wonderful Ginny, and I for her.

We painted the school red with our love but still couldn't manage to ignore those scathing rumors...words that should never have been uttered...just because she was always in my presence. As once she nursed me into life, I was in turn a comfort to her.

We had thought things had really begun to turn bad then. These thoughts are insignificant to me now because I know how terrible things were going to get.


Dumbledore had announced that day in early June that all students were to return to their dormitories and all teachers were to meet in the entrance hall. Fearing the worst while trying to shake off a slight sense of déjà vu, she and I had gotten up to leave the great hall when Dumbledore approached me.

"I'm sure you know why I need you to come with me, Harry," he said gravely.

I nodded slowly, grievously, unsurprised at this turn of events and, quietly so only she and Dumbledore could hear, I whispered, "He's here, now, isn't he?"

Dumbledore answered with a silent nod.

"I will go with you!" she protested, but Dumbledore had made clear his orders that she was to stay behind for her safety.

"Come with me, Harry," Dumbledore said and walked away, for once looking his one hundred and fifty-some years.

Not yet, I couldn't leave yet; I had resigned myself for the awful fact that my odds for coming back alive were stacked against me, but I couldn't leave just yet. I turned for one last look at Ginny, wonderful Ginny.

"Come back to me," she whispered and then, almost a sigh, "I love you, Harry. I need you." The first selfish thing I had ever heard her utter.

But before I could reply she was swept away with the crowd.

It was tough, not being able to give her a proper goodbye, but I shook it off, my confidence growing. For the past year I had become much practiced in the art of wand-less magic. Indeed, it was now a required class for all seventh years. Hermione was better than anyone at the less known skill of scrying (a very early ability that later become a precursor to floo powder) a far cry away from that fortune telling rubbish that Trelawney taught.

The old ways, Dumbledore had said, much forgotten by many modern witches and wizards. There is use even now for these untapped powers, Dumbledore added, for Voldemort never fully understood them or embraced them thinking them too archaic and therefore beneath him.

And it was true; those skills gave us, my fellow classmates and I, a major advantage. For without those powers Hermione could not have scryed through fire to contact key members of the D.A. (which had, more or less, been openly acknowledged by all the teachers).

It was lucky that the size of the D.A. had grown increasingly over the past two years; there were even Slytherin members, a few, but enough. During the meetings, no one was a member of their respective houses but of Hogwarts as a whole.

Hermione, feeling it was her duty as Head Girl, contacted Luna who, in turn, roused the other Ravenclaw members. Then she scryed Ernie Macmillan and his fellow Hufflepuffs. Lastly she reached Elaine, a third year girl from Slytherin to gather her dorm mates as the remaining four members.

My friends, my dear friends, they came together as the D.A. to help me even after Ron had told them about all of the dangers that faced them. Going against the wishes of the teachers, the group marched out onto the grounds and took up wands (as well as a hands) against the Death eaters.

It was close that day, I remember, though my memory sometimes betrays me. Ginny was there I know, fighting with a ferocity I had never known, she saved many of her classmates and soon the teachers found the students as a help rather than a hindrance.

Then it happened...


"Impedimenta!" a cold voice shouted, I was flat on my back staring up into the bright red eyes of Lord Voldemort.

I was exhausted and Voldemort looked as though he could continue for another few hours. I am about to take my last breath, I thought, no hope left inside me. Resigned for the worst I tried to make peace with myself all the while feeling I had let the entire world down. It lasted a second though it felt like an eternity.

"Corp--," it was about to happen... I stared ceaselessly into his eyes, all spells forgotten, just wanting to lie down and rest. But before he could finish the curse, a red-haired figure jumped in between Voldemort and I. Distracted, Voldemort aimed for Ginny.

"Noooooo!" I yelled and, still half-lying on the ground, I shot lightning at his face (having dropped my wand a few seconds earlier).

But it was too late, Ginny had been hit. I couldn't tell if she was alive or not. But my senses had come back to me. Still trying to fight off the electric shock flowing through his body, Voldemort never saw my curse hit him.

I felt the shock wave up through the soles of my feet, vibrating, my teeth clicking.

Then it was over. Voldemort was vanquished.

But my primary concern was to go to Ginny, to help her, to do something...anything. If she was dead, I would blame myself forever.

"She saved my life, she saved my life..." I kept repeating, trying to shake away the guilt, the fear, the despair.

I barely comprehended anything around me as she was taken away; barely heard Dumbledore telling me they were taking her to St. Mungo's, barely heard Hermione weeping close by or barely seeing the stricken look on Ron's face. Barely realizing that I had at last vanquished Voldemort...

All I could think about was Ginny, wonderful Ginny.

That's why I'm here now in St. Mungo's. I've been here for almost a week, not because I was critically injured but because I've been with Ginny day and night.

She had survived...barely.

A remnant of a hate-filled curse directed at someone other than the intended target that was never completed, the healers said.

She was alive but hate was against her. She was alive in the sense that her heart was still beating and her mind was still working, she was slightly aware of things around her.

I don't know how to describe it exactly.

The healers said to think of it as a disease. She was in a semi-comatose state while Hate flowed through her, eating away at her emotions. It paralyzed her, preparing to take over her body...it was worse than death.

Her family had given up hope.

The healers had given up hope. 'It's only a matter of time before it takes her over completely,' they said.

But I would not give up hope. Never would I give up hope.

"Ginny, wonderful Ginny," I whispered taking her flaccid hand. "I'm sorry Ginny, sorry for everything bad that's ever happened to you just for being with me."

It sounded weak, nothing could ever make up for this...yet, there was something I had to let her know, something that I am able to say now when there wasn't time before.

She was listening to everything that had been going on around her, she would hear me, I knew.

"I love you, Ginny. Hold on to what's left of your heart, remember us, remember...me. Please Ginny, hear me...I love you."

I bowed my head, still gripping her hand, trying to fight the incredible rush of emotion that washed over me.

"...Harry?..."

She was awake though still unmoving.

"I'm here, Ginny," I whispered shakily, grateful to finally hear the sound of her voice.

"Thank you," she sighed.

"For what?"

"For loving me."

FIN