Butler in Britain

Chapter Seven: Realization in Ruins

"Harry?"

From Ron's point of view, his bestfriend looked similar to a seventy-year-old man. He was slumped on a hard chair, his forehead wrinkled in concern. His hair was messier than ever. The phone was clutched tightly in his hand. What concerned Ron the most, however, was the stare that Harry was giving him. Ron was sure he wasn't looking at him. He was looking at something a thousand miles away.

"It was Malfoy on the phone," Harry murmured, his voice filled with weary. "We had some business to discuss."

Ron could tell that Harry was stalling. They both knew that no one cared if he was talking to Malfoy on the phone. No, the atmosphere was much thicker than that.

"Are you okay?" asked Ron, finally breaking the ice.

He saw Harry's body stiff suddenly. He was very nervous. It was evident from the way his eyes shifted before dropping to the ground. He ran a shaking hand through his hair while Ron tried not to move.

"Ah, of course," Harry said carelessly as he shook his head, "who wouldn't be okay? The war's over and done with. What's more for me to do?" He then gave Ron a forced smile, the kind that didn't make it to his eyes, but it was a smile nonetheless. It was a very long time since Harry had given them one.

Ron sighed in relief. "Good, because I thought you were still letting that vision you had in the Mirror of Erised get into your head."

"No, no, no," replied Harry a little too quickly. "It's just a vision, nothing special."

"Right," Ron responded happily. "Of course, why would it? It's just silly. I don't know why I let it get into me."

Both friends laughed gaily. One out of sheer joy and the other, Harry, out of acting. After Ron managed to gain control of himself, he remembered why he came to Harry in the first place and said, "Hermione can't do Justin's examination tonight. She's having those bad days."

Harry instantly regained his thousand mile stare and Ron began to regret tattle-telling. This time, Harry didn't even attempt to pretend to be happy for the sake of his friend. "She didn't take her medicine, did she?"

Ron shook his head no.

There was a loud bang as Harry jumped from his chair and started to march up the stairs in the direction of Hermione's room. All the way he was growling grouchily. "Why won't she take her medicine? Why does she have to be so stubborn?"

"You know how she doesn't want to get addicted to that stuff!" Ron protested in Hermione's defence. "Harry, calm down! This isn't the time to lose your temper!"

When Harry finally stopped to turn around, Ron was shocked to see Harry's cheeks flushed. He was shaking when he said, "You don't know what the doctors told me yesterday, Ron."

They were in an alternate universe. Ron decided once and for all that everything, the marble, the chandelier, the glossy walls, and the carpeted floor wasn't real. Even Malfoy's phone call wasn't. He clenched his fists as Harry told him. How the doctors lost hope. How even the best wizards and witches that worked in St. Mungo's gave up. How they had suggested a solution which was impossible even to Harry's standards. How the curse the Death Eater had given Hermione formed a lump in her brain. How she was growing weaker every second.

By the time Harry had reached the end of his confrontation, Ron felt his knees give up. He was on all fours, while Harry stood in front of him. Both of their eyes were void of light.

"So this is what we have been reduced to," Ron whispered softly, his voice like a haunting ghost floating aimlessly inside the House of Black. "We saved the world and protected people we didn't know or care about. Now that the war's over, we just slink away, unnoticed. And they think we're all right. And they think we can just go back to our lives."

"The after-effects are still just taking place," Harry uttered, "but its okay, Ron. This is what living like this does. We should've known. Someone should've warned us."

A gust of wind flew through the window and ruffled the moth-eaten curtains inside the living room. What was once stuffy was now fresh and wholesome. Coming from outside, four brown leaves floated inside the room and danced around the secluded area. One flew to the polished staircase where two men sat silently. Another one made it to the glass table where the phone was placed securely on its receiver. The third one was caught in a very strong blast of air and thus it sped towards a room upstairs, where a lady in a nightgown rests in her bed, smiling peacefully at everything, but yet again at nothing. Finally, the last leaf, having travelled for quite some time, only made it in front of the filthy curtains. And as it fell to the ground, bushed and fatigued from its long journey, the same friendly breeze brought out sounds from inside the curtains. Sounds of someone weeping mournfully, as if nothing in the world could make her happy again.

*.*

It was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was kind and the wind blew from all sides. Ginny wanted no more than to climb out of her limousine and hold Harry in her arms, now that the pictorial was over.

Penelope seemed to notice, however, her absentmindedness all throughout her promotional photos. Her smile didn't reach the camera, and the camera was disgusted at her. Nevertheless, no one else seemed to complain except for perfect Penelope.

No wonder Percy loves her, Ginny thought unkindly, she's too much of a perfectionist.

She stared out of the window of her car, wondering if Dana was right. Maybe the chambermaid was just trying to make her feel better. After all, she did felt like throwing up after Dennis heartlessly broke the news about Harry's business departure. It must've shown through her pale face.

Still, there was something wrong about Harry that Ginny couldn't put a finger on. Lately, he had been rather...difficult...and distant. It was as if he wanted to be somewhere else; a place she can't know about. Perhaps a place he didn't want her to know about. If that was the case, then maybe what Penelope had been telling her was indeed, right. Maybe Harry was with her simply because he needed her. His parents died when he was a baby and had spent his teenage years trying to defeat the wizard that murdered his family. And she, on the other hand, was cared for by six brothers and two loving parents, was surrounded by wonderful, trusting friends, handled break-ups with Michael Corner, Dean Thomas and a couple of other boys well enough, and was after all, a very well-rounded person. It all became clear. He needed her.

Ginny shifted on her seat uncomfortably as her limousine passed by the local cemetery.

But then again, maybe she needed him.

*.*

Draco held the flask filled with Polyjuice potion in his hands. He had an hour to impress Potter's girlfriend. Of course, it was obvious that he should drink another glass if the date lasted any longer, but Draco was sure he would use any possible excuse to get himself away from her before his time limit exceeds. He didn't want to be caught dead with her.

On the table was Creevey's phone and Potter's additional glasses that he found under his desk. He thought it wise of Potter to keep an extra pair, but then again, maybe those glasses were intended for him. After all, it was his mission to be Potter in the first place.

He dialled Ginny number but still, for the fifth time, no one answered. She wasn't home yet. He can't drink the potion yet.

The clock ticked as seconds passed by. One second could be deadly, especially when you're waiting for the inevitable. Pretend to be someone else...pretend to be your rival...it was more shame than Draco could justify.

Is your father proud of you? A voice broke into his thoughts.

Oh no, sir, Draco answered back, not now.

"Do you ever wonder..." It was Pansy's voice. Echoing hollowly inside the chambers of his mind. Haunting him with all its eeriness that it was worth. "What it feels like to be like them? To be like Potter, I mean."

He remembered himself saying, "Never. How could you even think of such a thing?"

Oh yes, those good old days. When Potter's side was losing. When Death Eaters were surging through the Muggle world and the Wizarding world, slaughtering like there was no tomorrow. And if truth be told, there was no tomorrow. Every day was worth at least one innocent life, and all of this made

Pansy very nervous. She raked her hands through her hair to cover the unstoppable shaking of her palms. But she wasn't fast enough for Draco's swift eyes. He saw them even before Pansy started to hide them away from him.

She looked around suspiciously, as if trying to spot a shadow lurking behind them, listening to every word that they say, and when she found none, she moved closer to him and whispered, "It's just that you know...our time is running out. Sooner or later, the Dark Lord would come to us and--"

"He wouldn't touch any part of my body," Draco spat viciously in front of Pansy, making the poor girl wince, "my father happens to play a very important role to His plans. He wouldn't want to lose any of the Malfoys' trust."

What was once a whisper turned into a panicked shriek as she tried to knock sense into him, to make him depart from all the lies that his father had told him. "You know very well that He doesn't care about any of his followers! He would kill us all, once we had proved ourselves worthless before Him! Once we cannot render upon Him the services He had expected from us! We're nothing to Him but house elves who worship Him for the sake of worshipping!"

Draco closed his eyes to stop the torrent of images that was flooding his mind. Stop living in the past, Draco; he told himself impatiently, it's over now. Everything's okay.

He tried phoning again. No answer.

He sighed heavily. Maybe he did want to do this. Pansy was right. He did wonder about what it felt like to be Potter. To be free and to be a leader and all that crap. To be a person without that chip that prevented him to speak his mind or think his thoughts. To know what it felt like to decide for your own self, without thinking about anyone else. Without thinking about the ones you love and care for the most. Without thinking about

Pansy's whole body was now shaking uncontrollably. "Draco...I'm scared. Any minute now He would come and I'll have nothing to present to Him...not one dead body..."

"Sssh...Pansy..." Draco murmured as he crept closer to her, to wrap his arms around her gently. "It's okay...everything's nice and dandy around here..."

"No, it's not," she protested weakly, "nothing's nice and dandy. Everything's messed up. I don't know what to do now...I don't know what to do."

Draco cupped her chin in his hands and directed her face towards him. He stared into her teary eyes and searched for the genuine character he had long sought out for inside her.

And he found it.

That night, he found it.

Real, genuine, unconditional love.

"Everything's nice and dandy because we'll run away, Pansy," he said, a smile creeping into his face, "we'll run away far, far from here where He or our families will never think of looking. We'll be safe and no one will hurt us. Just the two of us in there, Pansy. No one else."

"We'll run away..." she whispered, as if saying it out loud would make it seem more real. "Run away from here..."

"Yes, Pansy," he agreed

but even then he knew that it wasn't possible. How foolish of him to even make Pansy believe. All her hopes were just turned into dust, just like he expected. There was no escape from the Dark Lord. Not even Azkaban.

"We'll run away, Pansy," he whispered as the phone on the other line rang. "Everything will be nice and dandy."

He said those words with the same emotions he felt that night.

That night that Mr. Weasley died.

*.*

Ginny was just opening the door when she heard her phone ring. As soon as she heard the first ring, she wrenched the door out of its hinges, threw her purse to a nearby chair, picked the phone up and choked out a very exhausted, "Hello?"

Much to her disappointment, the caller didn't seem to fancy answering back. Instead, she heard slow and steady breathing before the caller hung up. If only she wasn't raised to a clean language, Ginny thought she wouldn't stop swearing since.

Bringing the cordless phone with her, she went to her room and started to dress up. If Harry was coming, she should wear something nice. If he didn't, she was pretty sure Penelope would call and tell her about some emergency press conference.

She was just about to unzip her dress when she spotted someone standing beside her bed, his back to her, staring at her wallpaper intently.

"Dennis!" she cried out, shocked. With both hands she raised her dress to her chest, hoping that Dennis wasn't there to do what she thought he wanted to do. "What are you doing here?"

"Your wallpaper's nice," said Dennis, completely ignoring her question, "the clouds make me feel breezy."

"Thank you," she stuttered nervously, "and you can leave now."

"I wonder if I can put the same wallpaper in my room," he continued, oblivious to Ginny's state of shock. "That would be great, don't you think so?"

"Please, Dennis!" she pleaded.

Finally, he turned around to face her. He simply stared at her with those dark, brown pools of his, not staring at her loose dress but at her very eyes. Ginny thought she should talk to Harry about Dennis' creepiness.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, breaking the five-minute silence ensuing between them, "no wonder he's not the same person he is to everyone else when he's with you. Even if he did something wrong, don't let him go."

He started to walk away but Ginny called out to him, confused as ever. "What're you talking about? What did Harry do?"

Dennis gave a hollow laugh. "Not Harry, no, not him."

He reached for the door knob as Ginny asked, "Then who?"

He shrugged his shoulders in a teasing manner before saying, "Bye, Little Bit."

Then the door closed.

Ginny felt a shiver run through her back, and she had a very good reason for it too. It's been a while since she heard those words. Only one person, other than Dennis, called her Little Bit, and it happened ten years ago.

Draco Malfoy.

*.*

The ride towards Diagon Alley was so dreadful Ginny couldn't even find the words to explain how terrible it was. A few minutes after creepy Dennis exited from her Suite, Harry appeared at her doorway, demanding her to sweep him of his feet and whisk him to a romantic place all before an hour. Ginny remembered well because that's exactly what he said.

"Ms. Weasley! I demand you to sweep me of my feet and whisk me to a romantic place all before an hour!"

"Diagon Alley!" she had suggested cheerfully, her heart palpating out of her chest. "It's been such a long time since I've been there!"

"Although I doubt if you'll find anything there, yes! Let's go there, but better make it quick. The Order needs me."

He sounded so excited to go with her. He demanded to be 'whisked' away with her for Merlin's sake. And now what was he doing inside her limousine? Checking his watch, that's what.

"Harry," Ginny murmured, sadness etched in her voice, "if you have other matters to attend to, you know I understand."

"I cancelled all of my appointments for this afternoon," he replied nonchalantly, "you have nothing to worry about."

"You don't have to pretend with me," she said carefully, not wanting to fall to the short end of Harry's patience.

"I'm here, aren't I?" he suddenly snapped rudely, giving her an ominous glare for a split second. "And besides, what do you know about pretending? I happen to know it's not one of your skills."

"Yes, it is," said Ginny irritably. "In case you forgot, it's my job. I'm an actress."

Ginny caught sight of Harry's cheeks giving a tinge of red before turning to the window. His back was now in front of her.

"Is something bothering you Harry?" she asked tentatively.

He didn't answer.

*.*

The brick wall that once separated Diagon Alley from the Muggle World was now smashed into smithereens. If the brick wall has stayed there, however, there would be no more secrets to hide from the Muggles since what was once the magical Alley was now a dirty passage wherein homeless people slept inside the abandoned stores. Not even the smartest Muggle in the entire world would've one notion that this was once a magical community.

Ginny stepped over the pile of bricks and saw in dismay, the ruined buildings and the peeling signs, all of which she had loved dearly when she was a child. She peered through the dusty windows and saw nothing but filth and broken bottles lying on the ground. The whole place gave the atmosphere of a hopeless situation, one that will never be restored.

She glanced at Harry and saw that he was staring at the place with the same expression she wore.

"Well, this is a surprise," Ginny murmured mournfully. She remembered when her brothers used to run around the whole place, keen to shop for all their school supplies. For Percy, supplies meant books. For Bill, it meant clothes. For Charlie, it meant magical herbs. For Fred and George, it was ingredients for their pranks. And for Ron and her...it was pretty much everything.

"I thought the shops would be closed," said Harry quietly, "but I didn't expect all these ruins."

Ginny looked down and saw the remains of a butterfly. Its wings were brown and the body was slowly turning into dust. She sighed heavily. "Even a butterfly can't live in this place." She turned to Harry before continuing, "Mr. Ollivander's dead, isn't he? Heard the Death Eaters robbed him clean off his wands and then murdered him."

Harry looked away.

Ginny felt a lump forming in her throat. It was chocking her, daring her to cry, but she wouldn't shed a tear in front of Harry. No, Harry Potter was strong. If she cried today, he would think that she's weak, and from the way their relationship has been going for the past few days, she was pretty sure he'd leave her any minute. After all, that's why he broke up with Cho Chang in the first place, because she cried a lot.

"Aren't you glad every one of those Death Eaters was executed? They deserved it," Ginny said spitefully.

"No," Harry whispered almost inaudibly, "not every one of them."

His response shocked Ginny. She never dreamed of the day when Harry says that a Death Eater was supposed to live. The mere thought of it made her shudder in disgust.

"You're kidding," Ginny said stiffly, avoiding his eyes, "right?"

"Of course not," he answered back, "I know what I'm saying and I know it's true."

"No it's not!" she shot back. "The reason why the Wizarding World barely exists anymore is because of their selfish motives and You-Know-Who's delirious dream! How did he think our world would survive once he wiped out half of our race?"

"You don't know his situation!" Harry now turned towards her, his green eyes fiercely blazing. "Those Muggles he had to put up with were unbearable!"

"Oh, Merlin," Ginny muttered as she watched the man she once knew to be on her side, suddenly take a dangerous swerve. "Oh, Merlin...this isn't you..."

"And those Muggles your father dearly loves executed our kind centuries ago! In case you didn't know, they burned us in stakes! They thought we were uncivilized creatures! Us!"

"Harry, this isn't you at all!" Ginny screamed wildly, tears forming in her eyes. "What's happening to you?"

"Nothing," he answered, this time more calmly, as if he was just recovering from a sudden storm. As if he realized the mistake that he was doing. "All of this made me think twice, that's all."

Ginny gave a sigh. She averted her eyes from him once more before saying, "The way You-Know-Who acted towards them during the war's end was even more barbaric than the way the Muggles acted towards us. I guess you could call it fair."

Harry slowly walked near where she was standing. He gave her a slight nod before they continued on sauntering the barren road, silently passing through the ghost town.

"And I did think about it twice, Harry," said Ginny, breaking the silence, "and it only made me realize one thing. When we fought, we thought we were right. When You-Know-Who's army fought, they thought they were right. The Death Eaters didn't fight because they were scared or because they wanted power--well, maybe some of them did fight for those reasons. But faithful wizards--like Lucius Malfoy, fought for what he believed in. And Draco Malfoy--"

"Fought for the circumstances he was accustomed to from the day he was born," Harry finished for her.

"Right," she murmured under her breath. "All these casualties isn't just their fault, it's ours too. We saw the war coming Harry, but we didn't do anything to stop it. All we did is to encourage it to happen. We're not heroes after all."

She stopped suddenly, making him bump into her back. She turned to him with thousands of thoughts in her eyes. In her hands was a beautiful beaded necklace.

"But I don't want these ideas getting into you, Harry. All we did was fight for what we believed in and so did our enemies. Even though guilt's coming, don't let it overpower you. You couldn't help it, no one could. Don't isolate yourself, okay Harry?"

"I'm not isolating myself," he snapped, obviously offended.

Ginny gave him a reassuring smile. Slowly, she raised her hands and placed the jewellery around his neck. "Here," she said, grinning; "now you're stuck with me. You gave that to me, remember? That's why it's my most prized possession. You can't leave now, because if you do, you're bringing my heart with you."

Harry looked taken aback. He stared at her for the longest time. Fingering the necklace, he asked, "When do I return this to you?"

"When you're ready to tell me everything," she answered softly.

They walked on, passing by rundown buildings, the dusty wind fluttering through their clothes. For a while, they walked apart, avoiding each other's gaze. By the time they reached the end of the Alley, Harry, who was Draco, reached out to hold Ginny's hand.

"Everything's going to be all right," he whispered in her ear, making her tingle all over. "Everything's nice and dandy around here."

Ginny didn't take her hand away.

*.*