For Your Love

Chapter 17 - Never Enough

"Are you coming to breakfast?" Maura asked on her way out of the dormitory.

Ginny turned from the mirror above her dresser where she had been brushing her hair. "In a minute, I'll meet you down there."

The girls filed out, leaving a peaceful silence in their wake, and Ginny turned back to her reflection. Despite the faint circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, her cheeks were rosy and her face had a certain sparkle. She had awoken on the couch in the early morning hours and looked instinctively for Harry, finding him curled on the floor below her like a sentry fallen asleep at his post. She'd watched him as his side rose and fell in an even rhythm, her eyes drifting over the arms that had surrounded and comforted her, before getting up and creeping softly past him to her room, thinking it would be unwise for anyone to discover them together once the rest of the house began to stir.

She smiled softly and a lightness surrounded her that she hadn't felt in what seemed like a very long time.

"I was afraid your smile had gone," the mirror observed. "So nice to see it back again."

Ginny grinned. "I think so, too."

She slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped lightly down the stairs, striding halfway across the common room before noticing Colin standing against the wall near the portrait hole. He wore a cautious smile as she approached.

"I'm sorry, were you waiting for me?" she asked, stopping in front of him and readjusting the strap on her shoulder.

He nodded. "Maura said you were coming down, so I thought maybe we could walk together. If it's alright with you, that is," he added hesitantly.

Ginny said nothing for a moment, feeling a bit abashed. Even though he didn't... couldn't... understand all that she had been going through, Colin had still tried to be a friend to her. It wasn't his fault that she had pushed him away. She looked into his eyes and saw that his concern and love were still there.

"I'd like that."

He smiled down at her and lifted the bag from her shoulder, slinging it over his own. As they climbed through the portrait hole and started down the hallway, he turned.

"You look different today."

"I feel different," she said. "I feel good."

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Good," he said simply, not wanting to dwell on the matter further.

As they entered the Great Hall, she looked for Harry's dark head along the Gryffindor table, but was disappointed to see neither him nor Ron or Hermione in their usual spot. The tug of Colin's hand brought her attention back to him and they sat down, tucking in to sausages and eggs in companionable silence.

Outside, Harry and Ron had just reached the bottom of the marble staircase and made their way into the noisy Hall.

"So she didn't say why she was coming down early?" Ron asked for the third time. "Did she have patrol duty or something? She could have waited..." he grumbled.

Harry shrugged, not feeling up to mediating the saga that was Ron and Hermione's relationship at the moment. They sat down across from each other and began pulling plates toward them.

"Do you know how long it's been since we've even had a proper snog?" Ron continued, ignoring a startled look from Parvati to his left.

"Ron, I really don't need to hear this," Harry said, stuffing his mouth with bacon.

Ron mumbled to himself but thankfully didn't offer any more details as Harry let his gaze wander around the room, making unconscious mental notes of certain people as he often did during meals: Draco Malfoy holding court at the Slytherin table with Pansy at his side; Ellie doing some last minute reading at the Ravenclaw table; Dumbledore chatting with Professor McGonagall from their perch at the head of the room; Ginny eating quietly next to Colin. He let his gaze rest on this last scene for a moment until she happened to look up and their eyes met. He fought the urge to look away and instead gave her a small smile. She smiled back and they shared a moment, just for the two of them, before she lowered her eyes. She fidgeted with the food on her plate, then glanced back at him once more before turning to listen to something Colin was saying.

Harry took a deep breath and turned back to his breakfast.

* * *

"Very good, Harry!" said Professor Dumbledore, lowering his wand after putting his student through a quick succession of mental and physical exercises. "Your instincts have much improved, and you are beginning to appreciate that your wand is not the only weapon you posses." He tapped a crooked finger on his temple. "Never underestimate the power of the mind; not even the deepest magics can fathom it."

Harry, rather more out of breath from his training than Dumbledore seemed to be, straightened up and managed a "Thank you, sir," before taking the Ice Pop that the headmaster held out to him. It refreshed his mouth and sent cool liquid streaming down his throat.

"Professor, do you have a moment?"

Dumbledore glanced at the door before settling himself in his chair. "I am expecting someone shortly, but yes, Harry, what is it?"

Harry sucked on his Ice Pop thoughtfully, considering how to best phrase his question.

"Have you ever known a Legilicor, sir?"

If Dumbledore thought this an odd question, his expression did not betray it. He smiled as if recalling a pleasant memory. "Yes, I have known a few," he said simply.

Harry furrowed his brow in thought. "Are they rare?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "Not especially. Though it is rare to find one who knows how to use the ability to its fullest extent. I have heard that Helga Hufflepuff was an accomplished Legilicor and became a valued counselor to the witches and wizards who studied under her. Have you met someone possessing these gifts, Harry, or do you ask merely out of curiosity?"

Harry chewed on the inside of his lip and frowned, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to be completely truthful either.

"I was just wondering. I've... heard of them and just wondered if it's anything like Legilimency."

Dumbledore paused and considered Harry over his spectacles. "Legilicors can sense or experience another person's situation and feelings. They are highly empathic and tend to be women, although men have also been known to possess the ability. However, unlike Legilimency, which can be learned and mastered, Legilicrency is an inherent trait."

"So, it's not something you can learn or develop then? It's just a feeling you have?"

Dumbledore stood and walked slowly to the stand where Fawkes was perched, the phoenix's feathers ruffling slightly under its master's touch. "A true Legilicor can not only sense feelings and emotions, Harry. They can enter into those feelings and experience them vicariously; they may even incorporate another's emotions into their own selves. Because of this, they have an aptitude for establishing mental connections and can be vulnerable to possession. I believe it is possible that some may have this ability with animals as well, though I have never seen it done."

He stroked Fawkes' feathers and looked into the bird's eyes curiously. "Oh, to understand what you have felt, my old friend. That would be quite something." He smiled affectionately as Fawkes nuzzled his finger, then turned back to Harry.

"It takes much practice to mask our thoughts and memories in the face of an experienced Legilimens, but it is harder still to mask our true feelings, regardless of how much we might want to deny them. They are what make up our spirit, the essence of who we are. It is one thing to have power over the mind, but quite another to have power over the heart."

"Would a Legilicor be of any use to Voldemort?" Harry asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"Voldemort has little use for feelings, Harry, unless they are hatred and revenge. But even as a student, Tom Riddle was a master manipulator. He could take the smallest sign of greed or hatred in another and turn it into unswerving loyalty to himself. That is the essence of evil, is it not; the power to make what is wicked and vile appear to be noble and good? As to your question, Lord Voldemort is quite capable of spreading his hatred into the hearts and minds of others without the use of a Legilicor, I can assure you," he said, returning to his seat.

"It is a bit unnerving to have one's innermost feelings so thoroughly examined by another," Dumbledore continued knowingly.

"Yes, it is," Harry mumbled, causing the headmaster's eyebrows to raise a hair.

"There is, in fact, at least one Legilicor that I am aware of at Hogwarts now."

Harry's eyes shot up and met Dumbledore's. "A student?"

"I am not at liberty to say, though I believe you know her," he said, and Harry thought he saw the flicker of a twinkle in his eye.

A knock came at the door, interrupting their conversation. Dumbledore rose and Harry reluctantly did the same.

"A word of advice, Harry," the headmaster said quietly as they walked toward the door. "The ability to sense emotions is not the same as understanding or interpreting those feelings accurately, especially in one with little experience at it. It can be a heavy burden at times and should be treated with care."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, sir."

The door opened to reveal Draco Malfoy waiting on the other side. Both boys stood a little straighter, always putting each other on their guard.

"Ah, Draco." Dumbledore waved his Head Boy inside with an outstretched arm, ignoring the ever-present tension between the two. "On time as always. Please come in."

Draco walked confidently into the office, looking over his shoulder at Harry once more before taking his seat.

"A pleasant evening to you, Harry," the headmaster said genially but firmly as the door shut, leaving Harry at the top of the winding stairs. He frowned at the door and made a mental note to ask Hermione something later, chewing his thumbnail absently as he made his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

Dumbledore turned and settled himself behind his desk with a serious expression. "What news, Draco? I trust Professor Snape has filled you in on the plans for the Christmas holidays?"

Draco resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably in his seat and met the headmaster's eyes steadily. "Yes, sir."

"And are you...comfortable with what we are proposing?"

Draco raised his eyebrows coolly. "Do I have a choice?"

Dumbledore tapped a finger broodingly on his desk before meeting Draco's questioning gaze again. "Normally I would say that there is always a choice. But in this case," he sighed, "no, it would not appear that you do."

* * *

"Hermione!" Harry called the next day, spotting her bushy ponytail through the crowded corridors and jostling his way toward her.

"Hey," she smiled, waiting for him to catch up.

"Are you on a break? Come out to the courtyard with me for a minute."

She shifted the heavy load of books in her arms. "Well... I..." she stopped short at the impatient look on his face. "Oh, alright, just for a minute."

They stepped out into the frosty air and found a secluded corner, Harry looking around to make sure they wouldn't be overheard.

"What's up?" Hermione asked.

"Had a lesson with Dumbledore yesterday," he began.

"Yes, I know. How did it go?"

"Fine," he said distractedly. "Listen, do you ever have special meetings with Dumbledore because you're Head Girl?"

She wrinkled her brow. "Yes, every week with Draco; you know that."

Harry was momentarily taken aback. "What did you say?"

She let out an exasperated sigh and readjusted the books in her arms. "I said every week with Malfoy. Why?"

Harry frowned slightly but decided to let it pass. "No, I mean just you, without Malfoy."

Now it was Hermione's turn to frown. "No, why would I?"

"Because Malfoy does."

"No he doesn't," she said, confused.

"I've seen him, Hermione, just before or after my lessons; it's happened twice."

Hermione shrugged. "Well, so what? I'm sure Dumbledore meets with lots of students individually about one thing or another."

"It's the 'one thing or another' I'm worried about."

"Harry, don't be silly. I've told you before, he's not up to anything." The bell sounded throughout the castle signaling the start of Hermione's Ancient Runes class. "Oh, I have to go. Bye!"

Harry leaned his shoulder against the cold wall. Hermione was probably right, but he couldn't help it; he didn't trust Malfoy.

Having a free period, he stood deciding what to do next when he noticed a small, yellow butterfly fluttering toward him. Odd, he thought, to see a butterfly in the middle of winter. It wasn't until it had almost landed on his nose that he saw it was not real but a paper note, folded and enchanted to fly. He snatched it out of the air and opened it. It was blank but for some smaller butterflies floating around its edge and the words "Tap your wand here" written in the middle.

Harry looked out across the courtyard to see where the note had come from, and his eyes fell on the smiling face of Ellie, carefully watching him from the other side of the square. She winked at him and his heart skipped a beat. Quickly fishing his wand out of its holster, he tapped the page. The words melted away and were replaced by a longer note written in Ellie's loopy handwriting.

Hey handsome,

I've enchanted this note to be for your eyes only, so no worries about it falling into the wrong hands. I'm supposed to be practicing Concealment Charms for Prof. Flitwick, but all I can think about is you. I miss you... and your lips... and your hands...

Our place, tonight, 8pm.

E.

Harry blushed and his pulse quickened. He looked up and Ellie smiled at him before disappearing into the crowd. Reading the note again, his mind wandered, wondering what it would be like if he and Ellie were really a couple, not hiding but strolling through the corridors hand in hand, taking long walks by the lake, taking her out to lunch at the Three Broomsticks. A wistful smile crept across his face.

"Why are you staring at a blank piece of paper?"

"Huh?" Harry was startled out of his daydream by Ron, who had come to stand beside him and was looking over his shoulder.

"Hey, that looks like the writing paper I almost bought for Ginny," Ron said with a sly grin. "Did some girl give it to you?"

"Just... uh... found it on the ground," Harry said, crumpling the paper and stuffing it into the pocket of his robes. "C'mon, it's freezing out here."

Harry strode across the yard and into the castle with Ron close at his heels and all thoughts of Malfoy forgotten.

* * *

A few days later, Harry stepped through the portrait hole, sweaty and tired, his Firebolt slung over his shoulder. The common room was scattered with people chatting and revising. Ginny had returned from practice ahead of him and was now lounging on the couch, reading. She looked up from her book and smiled; he raised his hand in a silent hello and trudged up the stairs to his room. Half an hour later, after a scalding shower to relax his aching muscles, he returned to the common room dressed in comfortable jeans and a t-shirt under his school robes. Sinking onto the couch next to Ginny, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the cushions.

"That was a good practice," she said, setting her book aside.

"Yeah," he grunted.

"Sophie's getting better with that new play, her arm is getting stronger."

"You three looked good out there; we shouldn't have any problem with Hufflepuff on Saturday."

The room was mostly empty now, everyone having drifted toward the Great Hall for dinner.

"Want to go down and get something to eat?" she asked.

"In a bit."

They sat quietly, listening to the crackle of the fire. The portrait hole opened and Harry heard two sets of footsteps come in, one rushing across the room, the other trailing behind. Ginny nudged his leg and he opened his eyes. She gestured to somewhere behind him and he turned in time to see Ron stomping up the stairs angrily. Hermione walked to the armchair next to Ginny and slumped into it, holding her head in her hands.

"What happened?" asked Ginny cautiously.

"We had a row," Hermione said, not looking up and sounding exhausted.

"Worse than your usual rows?" Ginny said.

Hermione nodded. She looked up and opened her mouth to speak, but broke off when she noticed Harry for the first time. "Oh, Harry... could you..."

He looked at her expectantly, then at Ginny. Surely they couldn't want him to leave again after he'd just gotten comfortable. Ginny widened her eyes at him and inclined her head toward the boys' dormitory. He exhaled loudly and rolled off the couch, disappearing up the stairs.

Ginny turned back to Hermione. "So?"

"Oh," Hermione moaned, "I just don't know if I can do it anymore, Gin. I love him, but he's driving me crazy."

This, of course, was not news to Ginny, so she kept quiet and waited for Hermione to continue.

"I met him down at the Quidditch pitch after practice. I thought we could go to the library together and do revision for our Transfiguration exam on Monday. And he said he was tired, so I said maybe after dinner then. And then he got all defensive and said we could do it tomorrow, but I really wanted to get a jump on it and... well, we just got into a huge row and he said it was the weekend and we should go do something fun, and I accused him of slacking off, and he said all I care about is schoolwork." She paused to take a deep breath before plunging on.

"I just thought we could be together and get some revising done at the same time. Is that so awful? I mean, it's NEWTs this year! I like doing well at school, I like being top of my class. I could never slack off and just go out and have fun with all that work hanging over my head. I'd just be distracted. And I like helping him; I like seeing that light go on in his head when he really gets something we've been working on. But he doesn't understand; he just thinks I'm nagging him, trying to change him into someone that he's not." Her hands waved wildly in the air. "What is it with boys and change anyway? Why are they so stubborn? Do they think they can just stay as they are forever and never have to grow up?" She sighed, rubbing her forehead, and her voice softened. "Am I really so horrible for wanting that?"

Ginny had been listening intently, her heart going out to her friend. Harry was not the only one she had been avoiding, she realized, and she suddenly missed that sisterly bond that she and Hermione had sometimes shared. She reached over and grasped the other girl's hand.

"Hermione, let me tell you a little bit about Ron."

* * *

Harry could hear a methodic pounding coming from his room as he climbed the stairs. He opened the door and saw Ron standing by his bed, throwing a small, toy Quaffle repeatedly against the wall, catching it as it bounced back. Ron turned briefly to look at Harry before resuming his throwing.

"What do you want?" he asked. But rather than the anger that Harry had expected, he sounded sad and defeated.

Harry shrugged. "Ginny sent me up here."

"What for?"

"Wanted to talk to Hermione, I guess." Harry lay down on his bed, his arms behind his head.

"Well, if it will keep Hermione from talking to me, then that's just fine."

Harry didn't question any further. For one thing, he didn't have the energy for yet another conversation about Ron and Hermione's bickering, and for another, he knew Ron would talk about it if he wanted to without any prodding from him.

* * *

Hermione met Ginny's eyes, waiting. Ginny explained, "When you're the youngest of six boys, there's not much that you get to call your own. Bill and Percy were Head Boys. Charlie was aces at Quidditch. Even Fred and George are quite unique... in their own special way. That's not just one tough act to follow, it's five. And you know what mum's like. She says she's impartial, but she's always comparing them."

"But Ron's a prefect," reasoned Hermione, "and he's on the Quidditch team. I know if he just worked a little harder..."

"Hermione, you're an only child," Ginny interrupted. "But don't you see, he's not been the first one to do those things in our family. Not even the second. Throw in the fact that Harry Potter is your best friend and you're dating the smartest witch in... well, ever... and what's he got left? He's funny, he's loyal, he's overprotective, he's selfish, he says exactly what he thinks and you always know where you stand with him. Yes, he's a prat sometimes, but he's a real friend. Who he is is really all he has. And I think sometimes he feels like you're trying to take that away from him, like it's not good enough for you."

Hermione sat back in her chair, taking in what Ginny said.

"Hermione, he's my brother and I love you both, but he deserves to be happy."

Hermione's eyes snapped up. "Of course he does. I want him to be happy."

"Can you do that for him?" Ginny asked softly.

Hermione turned to stare into the fire, contemplating. Finally, she whispered, "I don't know."

* * *

After several minutes of wall pounding, Ron sat down on his bed, rolling the toy ball between his fingers. "I don't know," he sighed. "Maybe we're just too different. Maybe I was stupid to think that she could really like me."

Harry propped himself up on his elbows and frowned. He had seen Ron angry at Hermione before, furious even, but never like this. "So, it really was that bad then."

Ron looked up, agitated. "In all the time we've known Hermione, have you ever really seen her relax?" Ron asked. "Even when the rest of us are just kicking back and having fun, she's always got her nose in a book or she's working out some problem. The wheels are spinning in her head all the time."

Harry thought this was a bit of an exaggeration, but he could see Ron's point. Hermione could be very intense, which had served them well with all the obstacles the three of them had faced over the years, but it could also be exhausting to try and keep up with her.

Ron went on. "It's like the only time she's really happy is when she's puzzled out something; you know, how her whole face lights up when she's finally got the answer. Just once I'd like to see her face light up like that when she looks at me. And not because she's just taught me something or she wants to tell me about some discovery she's made, I mean just because it's me." He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up, pacing the room. "I just wish she wouldn't be so..."

"So Hermione?" Harry offered.

"You're not helping," Ron snapped.

"Look Ron, we've known her for what, seven years now. You two have bickered like an old married couple from day one. Did you think all of that would just stop once you got together?"

Ron shrugged. "Maybe. Stupid, huh. Why does this have to be so hard? How can we have known each other for so long and still not understand each other?"

"You're not stupid," said Harry wearily. "But are you sure you can do this with her? Have a relationship? Maybe you have too much of a history for that." He sighed. "Ron, she's my friend, too. And if you keep going like this and it doesn't work, you're going to break her heart and she's going to lose her best friend. Well, one of them anyway."

Ron cast a shrewd glance at Harry. "Is that what you're doing with Ginny?"

Harry paused. "What do you mean?"

"You think that if you try it and it doesn't work, you're going to lose her?" Ron saw that he had struck a nerve, but Harry wouldn't be sidetracked.

"Ginny's with Colin. Besides, we're not talking about me, we're talking about Hermione. I don't want to see her get hurt, especially not by you."

The corner of Ron's mouth turned up slightly. "I thought the role of overprotective brother was my department."

Harry snorted. "I learned from the best. Just be careful with her."

Ron stared at him for a moment before adding quietly, "Same to you."

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a minute or two before Harry asked, "Are you going to go down and talk to her?"

"Why should I be the one?" Ron started defensively. "She's the one who..."

"Ron." Harry eyed him dangerously, and he reluctantly gave in.

"Fine," he mumbled. He stood and crossed the room, pausing at the door to look over his shoulder. Harry nodded and waited until Ron had opened the door before following him out and down the stairs.

When they reached the bottom, the girls looked up from their place in front of the fire, just as Harry had left them. Ginny stood and backed away quickly, leaving nothing between Ron and Hermione's locked eyes, each waiting for the other to say something.

"Um..." Ron finally began, clearing his throat. "We should probably talk."

Hermione looked down at her fingers. "Yeah," she said quietly. She looked up at Harry leaning against the boys' doorway, but his face offered neither advice nor comfort. She stood and her knees wobbled unsteadily. "Where..."

"Let's just..." Ron motioned toward the portrait hole. She nodded and moved quickly toward it, Ron following her out.

Harry stared after them until a sound from Ginny brought his attention back.

"And I thought Weasleys were stubborn," she said, crossing her arms.

Harry gave a short laugh. "Really? I had no idea."

"Oh, you're so funny." She rolled her eyes and strode over to him, tugging his arm. "C'mon. They may be missing dinner, but I'm not."

Harry smirked at her impatience. He pushed away from the wall and followed her, silently thankful that he wasn't in Ron's shoes.

* * *

They found an empty classroom and shut the door. Hermione folded her arms and leaned against a desk while Ron paced back and forth across the front of the room.

It was beginning to irritate her.

"Well?" she asked.

Ron stopped and looked at her. "Well, what, Hermione?" he asked helplessly. "What else is there to say?"

She frowned. "I don't know."

"It's not supposed to be like this," he whispered.

"What is it supposed to be like?" she asked quietly.

"It's supposed to be you and me, together. Not... not this."

Hermione looked down at the floor and shook her head. "I don't know what you want from me."

"I just want you to be with me." Ron's voice grew stronger as he moved toward her. "That's all I ever wanted, but it's not enough for you. It's never enough; I'm not enough!"

"Ron, stop shouting, someone will hear!" she whispered loudly.

"Oh, bloody hell, Hermione... Silencio!" He pointed his wand at the door and cast the silencing charm around it.

Satisfied that they couldn't be heard, Hermione pushed away from the desk and stood to face him. "It's not just about you. I'm not just your girlfriend, I'm a person who wants to experience all that I can and take advantage of new opportunities, but the things that I love are just not important to you!"

"They are important to me. But so is Quidditch, and having fun, and spending time with my friends... and spending time with you!"

"Ron, there's more to life than Quidditch and snogging! There's a whole world of new things out there that you're not even willing to grab hold of!"

"And there's more to life than books and study and achievement and success, Hermione! I'm not saying that those are bad things, but look at yourself. You're running around like a madwoman and you won't take the time to just stop and look around you and see what you're missing! This is it; this is our last year at Hogwarts. After this it's jobs and bills and life, and I don't want to look back on our time here and find that I spent it with my nose shoved in a book!"

A look of hurt flashed across Hermione's face. Her eyes left his as she ran a hand over her forehead. "This isn't working; we can't keep going on like this. I can't. I'm tired, Ron. Tired of being on pins and needles all the time, tired of fighting."

Ron fell silent. He reached out his hand toward her cheek, but she stopped him with a shake of her head and turned away.

Ron's hand dropped limply to his side and he exhaled loudly. "I can't do this anymore either." His footsteps echoed through the room as he headed for the door.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Don't, Hermione. Just... don't."

It wasn't until he had gone that her eyes welled with tears, but whether it was from heartbreak or relief, she couldn't tell. Maybe it was a little of both.