Just Plain Harry

Chapter 24 A Thinly Drawn Line

No matter if you’re born

To play the king or pawn,

For the line is thinly drawn

‘Tween joy and sorrow.

So my fantasy

Becomes reality,

And I must be what I must be

And face tomorrow.

- from Flowers Never Bend with the Rainfall by Paul Simon

Everyone started talking at once. Over the pandemonium, Harry heard one of the Weasley twins yell, “I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it!”, and, beside him, Neville was muttering, “Please tell me it’s not true, Harry, not Hagrid.” Harry barely heard him, though. He barely heard anything. Everyone seemed to be moving in slow-motion, and his head felt funny. He looked around for Ron and Hermione, and watched them turn to each other and just crumple. All he could think about, of all stupid things, was the time Hagrid had put the Engorgement Charm on his pumpkins, when he wasn’t supposed to be doing any magic at all. Even Hermione hadn’t been too critical, just because she liked Hagrid so much, and Ginny… Harry looked around, suddenly worried about Ginny, and was just in time to see her sneak up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Maybe it was because of the uproar that nobody noticed her going, or even him following.

Harry was prepared to unlock her door magically this time, but it wasn’t necessary. Ginny didn’t even seem to hear him enter the room; she was stretched out on her bed, her face buried in a pillow, sobbing brokenly. Harry didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he had to be there, had to try to comfort her, even if she ended up hating him afterwards. He sat down on the bed next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened for a moment, but then continued crying, not lifting her head from the pillow, so he allowed himself to savor the feel of her hair under his hand. He knew he shouldn’t be enjoying that in the middle of tragedy, but he was a fifteen-year-old boy, and he couldn’t help it. So, he didn’t say anything, just kept stroking her hair and enjoying the way his fingers looked entangled with it, while trying not to think about Hagrid.

By the time Ginny’s sobs finally quieted, Harry was wondering why no one had come looking for them yet. She turned over onto her side, facing away from him.

“Maybe you’re right, Hermione,” she said, though he could barely hear her, even as quiet as the room was. “Maybe Divination is completely pointless.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked. Her huge start and gasp made him almost smile, but he was genuinely confused. How did she get to Divination from Hagrid’s death?

“What are you doing here, Harry?” Ginny asked, sitting up and staring at him in shock. “I...thought you were Hermione.” She rolled her eyes before dropping them to her lap, and that did make him smile. Obviously, she had thought he was Hermione.

“I had to be here, Ginny,” he said. Her gaze flew up to his again, and he paused, hovering around saying something else, something...she didn’t need to hear right now, upset as she was. He dragged his eyes away from hers, and repeated, “Why do you say Divination is completely pointless?”

She continued to stare at him for a long moment - he could feel her gaze, but he steadfastly refused to meet it. Too complicated, he told himself. This is not a good time. He repeated that mantra several times before she spoke again.

“Because I didn’t See this,” she said, rubbing roughly at her eyes. “What good is this talent if it doesn’t show me anything useful?”

“Ginny, you can’t See everything. You’re not omniscient - not even Dumbledore’s omniscient, except in Hogwarts.”

She gave a watery giggle, but she didn’t look convinced. “I should at least be able to See what’s important to me, especially something this big. Hagrid...he helped me through my first year...I don’t think I would have held out as long as I did if he hadn’t been there...” Tears started coursing down her cheeks again, but she didn’t seem to notice. “And I didn’t See anything! I’ve had this block, Toby says, and she says...she says it’s because I’m so caught up in everything. I take things personally, she says, and that’s not good for a Seer.”

She turned to look at him again, and when he saw her huge brown eyes drowning in tears, he couldn’t help it, he had to reach out to her. He didn’t do what he wanted to, which was to take her in his arms, but he reached out both hands and grasped her shoulders.

“Ginny, I don’t know how to help you - if Miss Stuart doesn’t, I certainly don’t - but I’m here for you. I...don’t want you to pull away from everyone the way you’ve been doing. You wouldn’t be...well, you wouldn’t be Ginny if you became some Seeress in a high tower somewhere, completely removed from the world.”

She stared at him, barely seeming to breathe. Then, she caught her breath and deliberately removed his hands from her shoulders.

“You’re right, Harry,” she said, still holding his hands in hers. “You’re absolutely right, but I need to find a balance. I need to find out how to be a Seer and still be a person, too, and that’s going to take time and...distance. Can you...can you understand that?”

Harry looked down at his hands, held in hers. Was she really asking what he thought she was, what he hoped she was? He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. Those eyes. Warm, deep brown, they had an almost ageless quality to them that he suspected came from her experience with Tom Riddle. Ron’s eyes certainly didn’t have that quality. Anxious, worried eyes. Was she worried that he wouldn’t understand? That he wouldn’t...wouldn’t wait for her? Well, that would be an easy question to answer. He would wait for her as long as she needed, and for whatever she could give him. Whether that was just friendship, or...his thoughts trailed off as he lost himself in her eyes. Her loving eyes. How could he not have seen that before? Love shone from her eyes, from every part of her, actually, love for him. He couldn’t believe it. It had been here all the time, and he’d been blind, so blind. And his heart reached out to take it, his soul lept to meet hers. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, to seal that love, but she had said that she needed distance, so distance was what he would give her. He wanted to give her the world, a little time and distance shouldn’t be so hard. Somewhere deep inside his brain, the part of him that couldn’t believe how mushily he was thinking, was saying that this was just a teenage love, something that he would feel for many girls before he found the perfect one. But something else told him that he’d already found her...this girl who drove him crazy in every way possible. He turned his hands in hers so that he could hold hers, and looked back up into her eyes.

“I understand,” he said. “Take as long as you need, Ginny.” As relief filled her eyes, joining the love there, he leaned over and kissed her cheek, savoring the way she leaned into the kiss, the way her hands convulsively clutched his. This would have to last them for quite awhile, he knew, but it would. Now that he knew she loved him, he could handle anything. He stood up and walked to the door, turning back just before he opened it. She was watching him.

“Should I send Hermione to you?” he asked, though he hadn’t known what he was going to say before he’d opened his mouth. He had just wanted to hear her voice again.

“Please,” was all she said, so he nodded, and left the room.

When he came back downstairs, he found a solely Gryffindor common room again. The Gryffindors had quieted down quite a bit, but the main emotion still on everyone’s faces was shock. Harry saw Natalie sitting on the floor, surrounded by most of the first through third years, looking like she couldn’t quite handle this latest tragedy. She and Dennis had practically haunted Hagrid’s hut for a year and a half - Dennis’ first Hogwarts experience had been falling into the lake and playing with the giant squid, and he had embraced every strange and wondrous beast Hagrid introduced him to after that, dragging Natalie with him. Fred and Angelina were talking quietly with Lee and Alicia, and none of them seemed to notice Harry sneaking down the girls’ dormitory stairs. He couldn’t see George anywhere, but just when he thought he hadn’t been spotted, he felt someone’s eyes on him, and turned his head to look straight at Ron.

Ron was sitting in one of the overstuffed armchairs in front of the fire, and his head was turned at an awkward angle that Harry couldn’t understand at first. Then he realized that Hermione was sitting on Ron’s lap, her head against his chest. As he made his way over to them, he felt his heart lift a tiny bit. Voldemort might be able to strike seemingly at will, and his own personal life might be on hold for the moment, but at least Ron and Hermione had found each other, and were happy.

As he got closer, Harry realized that Hermione was asleep. He drew his wand and waved another chair over, so he could talk to Ron quietly without waking her up. He would wake her up eventually, because Ginny wanted her, but Ron was looking at him with an intense, big-brotherly look, and Hermione didn’t need to hear the conversation that he knew was coming.

Sure enough, as soon as Harry sat down, Ron whispered, “What were you two doing up there?”

Harry sighed. Really, what did Ron think they were doing up there? Shagging?

“She’s really upset, Ron,” he said. “I was trying to comfort her. She blames herself, you know.”

“For Hagrid? But why?” Ron spoke louder than he intended, and Hermione stirred for a moment, but she settled back against his chest with a soft murmur.

“She feels that she should have Seen it, so we could have prevented it,” Harry said, trying not to show how strange he felt having a conversation with one of his best friends while the other one slept on his lap.

Ron shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. It’s not something that can be controlled like that.”

“I know that, and you know that,” Harry said. He felt like someone had said that to him recently, and then remembered that it was Hermione, and about almost the same subject. “I think Ginny knows it, too,” he continued after a moment. “But she needs to come to terms with it, and it’s difficult.”

“Yeah,” Ron said. He dropped his eyes to the top of Hermione’s head, took as deep a breath as he could with her sitting on him, and said, “Listen, Harry, I want you to know I’m okay with it. It was weird at first, but now it just seems right, you know? And I think it’ll be good for Ginny to have you to turn to.”

Harry’s jaw dropped, but Ron still hadn’t lifted his eyes, so he couldn’t see it. That was absolutely the last thing he’d expected his friend to say, and he wasn’t sure how to answer him, especially since he’d gotten it all wrong.

“Erm...do you mean Ginny and me being friends?” he finally said.

Ron snorted, which made Hermione stir again and then burrow closer to his chest in her sleep. Harry had to look away at the expression of pure enjoyment on Ron’s face. That was something he didn’t need to see. After a moment, Ron seemed to remember what he was about to say.

“You’re more than friends, Harry, please don’t lie to me,” he said, finally looking up and staring intensely at Harry.

This shocked Harry even more than the previous statement. He’d expected some joking protest, not this serious appeal. They didn’t talk about their friendship much, of course; it was just there, like air, part of everything they did. But Harry knew that Ron wouldn’t lie to him, just as Ron knew that he wouldn’t. Especially about something like this.

“I’m not,” he said. Seeing doubt in Ron’s face, he hurried on, “I’d definitely like to be more than friends with Ginny, but...” he trailed off. This had to be the most awkward conversation he’d ever had.

“But what?” Ron asked. He didn’t seem to be finding it awkward in the slightest. “She fancies you, everyone knows that. She always has.” He must have seen Harry’s look of pure shock, because he said, “Oh, come on, Harry, even you must be able to see that.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron, and looked pointedly at Hermione. Ron’s ears turned red, but before he could say anything, Harry noticed that Hermione’s lips were curled upwards in a smile, and shook his head at him.

“How long have you been awake, Hermione?” he asked.

“Long enough,” she said, opening her eyes and smiling at him.

“I still don’t understand,” Ron said, craning his neck to see over Hermione’s raised head. “If Ginny fancies you, and you,” he paused for a moment, swallowed, and went on, “fancy her, what’s the problem?”

Harry just looked at him, then moved his eyes to Hermione, and back to Ron, who had the grace to blush.

Hermione, though, actually answered him. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Ron, both Ginny and Harry are going through some difficult times right now, and yes, there could be problems. Besides, it’s really none of your business, is it?”

Hearing Hermione lecture Ron while she was still sitting on his lap capped a completely surreal conversation for Harry.

“Yes, it is,” Ron said, evidently not having that problem. “Harry’s my best friend, and Ginny’s my sister. Whose business is it if it’s not mine?”

“Theirs,” Hermione said firmly.

“Would you two mind not talking about me as if I’m not here?” Harry said, though he couldn’t help but smile at them. Then his smile faltered, as he remembered exactly why Hermione was sitting on Ron’s lap. Reaching Ginny had been his first priority, and he’d been able to push his horror to the background for awhile, but it was forcing its way out. He simply couldn’t imagine a world without Hagrid’s large, comforting presence. Hagrid had been Harry’s first contact with the wizarding world, and, thinking back on it, he realized just how lucky he had been. Hagrid had been on his side from the very beginning, and he had needed that, coming from the Dursleys’. It might not have been that way - imagine if Snape had been the one to fetch him!

“Hagrid…” he said, but then didn’t know what else he really wanted to say.

Hermione seemed to see some of his thoughts in his face, and, though she didn’t speak, her eyes shone with understanding and support. As she watched him, she sat up and half-slid off of Ron’s lap onto the arm of the chair. He looked disappointed, even when she took his hand and leaned against his arm. Harry watched them, and thought about all the time the three of them had spent in Hagrid’s hut...watching Norbert hatch, helping Ron recover from the slug-belching incident, helping Hagrid in his defense of Buckbeak, pulling Hagrid out of his Rita Skeeter depression.

“How...how did it happen?” he finally asked.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said. “You won’t believe this - it wasn’t even You-Know-Who.”

“What?”

“You know what Hagrid was doing, right?” Ron asked, leaning forward. “Well, apparently, the giants didn’t like him leaving, even though they knew he was coming back, and they didn’t like what they heard about the Creeveys. We don’t know exactly what happened, of course, but according to them, they challenged Hagrid to give them assurances that they wouldn’t be attacked by Voldemort, that Professor Dumbledore would put the same emphasis on saving their lives as he would Hogwarts students.” He stopped, because Harry and Hermione were both staring at him. “What?”

“You said Voldemort,” Harry said.

“I know,” Ron said, scowling a bit. “I’ve been saying it to myself six times every morning before breakfast. Anyway, Hagrid couldn’t give them those assurances, because you know how truthful he is. And apparently giant society is even more different from ours than we had thought, because they killed Hagrid over it.”

“But...that makes no sense,” Harry said.

Ron ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “I know. I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore about it, maybe there’s more to it than what Filch said. But that’s what we know right now.”

“What about Hagrid’s mother?” Hermione asked. She was staring into the fire, but didn’t seem to see the merrily leaping flames. “I hadn’t thought about her before, but isn’t she with the giants? Why would she allow them to kill her son?”

Ron just shook his head again, and all three of them sat in silence for awhile. Somehow, Harry decided, the thought that Hagrid died for nothing made it even worse.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Hermione, Ginny would like to see you before you go to bed,” he said. “And, speaking of...”

“Yeah,” Ron said, looking around at the now mostly empty common room. “Suppose we might as well.”

Harry said good-night to Hermione, not surprised that she hugged him before she let him go upstairs, and then left the two of them to say their good-nights privately. As he entered his dormitory to the sounds of Seamus’ snores, knowing he had a sleepless night ahead of him, he couldn’t help but think of Ginny up in her bed, hopefully asleep.

The next morning, he wished he’d put a Stupefy spell on himself - anything so that he’d have had some sleep, at least. At breakfast, the Great Hall seemed as though a black cloud hung over it, so much so that Harry actually looked up at the ceiling to see if one really did. He was shocked to see that the sun shone brightly - he could have sworn that the day was overcast and brooding. Eveyone else seemed to be having just as hard a time keeping their eyes open as he was, and he could just imagine how annoyed the teachers were going to be in their classes, though he supposed they’d be a little understanding. Even most of the Slytherins seemed subdued – at least, all the ones he’d noticed at the Creeveys’ memorial service the night before. He suspected that Malfoy was exulting right now, but he deliberately didn’t look at him. Instead, he looked around for Ginny, and saw her, shockingly enough, sitting with the other girls of her year. The four of them had been a tight-knit group since Ginny’s first year, and he suspected that even if it hadn’t been for the Tom Riddle’s diary, Ginny would have had a hard time fitting in with them. For the first time, he thought about how much that must have hurt her, especially after Ron practically abandoned her. No wonder she had been an easy target for Voldemort.

Now, though, the four girls surrounded Ginny, two on either side of her and two across the table. Harry wondered why, and wished that he could talk to Ginny, so that he could ask her. Then he had to laugh at himself, because, really, he wished that he could talk to Ginny, just to talk to her.

Ron and Hermione were sitting across from him, obviously too tired even to argue. Harry knew that Ron hadn’t slept last night either; he hadn’t heard any snores at all coming from Ron’s bed throughout his own sleepless night. Hermione had her head down on Ron’s shoulder, not even pretending to try to eat. From the looks on both their faces, Harry could tell that they were still trying to comprehend a world without Hagrid. He deliberately kept his eyes away from the head table, so he wouldn’t have to see Hagrid’s empty seat, and he hadn’t seen either Ron or Hermione look there once, either.

He kept his eyes away from the head table until he heard a loud bark, that is. Then, he couldn’t help but stare; he knew that bark. Sure enough, there was Padfoot, being led into the Great Hall by Remus, to the wonderment of the assembled students. A muted murmur of pleasure went up around the hall; Remus had been the favorite teacher of many students, even after it was revealed that he was a werewolf.

Harry, Ron and Hermione didn’t really need the glance they exchanged as they rose as one and made their way towards the head table. Harry looked back at Ginny, and found her watching them. He made a motion with his head, indicating that she should come with them. She smiled sadly at him, but shook her head. Harry could see the shock and excitement on her dorm-mates faces at this exchange, but that didn’t stop him from smiling back at her before he turned away and followed Ron and Hermione.

When they reached Remus, Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to ask Remus, because he knew that what he most wanted - to demand that Remus tell him that it wasn’t true, that Hagrid wasn’t dead - was impossible. Luckily, because neither Ron nor Hermione seemed able to speak, either, something bumped into Harry’s hand. Looking down, he saw Sirius, ears flat and tail down, his eyes looking as sad as Harry had ever seen them. Harry returned the look, but he still couldn’t force any words out of his mouth. Hermione, seemingly heedless to what the rest of the students in the Great Hall must be thinking, threw herself down on her knees beside Sirius, and wrapped her arms around him. Harry could hear some of the disjointed phrases she muttered into Sirius’ ear as she petted him, “...not your fault...we know you tried your hardest...nothing you could have done...Harry knows...” When he heard that phrase, Harry tried to pretend he wasn’t listening, turning his attention to Ron and Remus. It wasn’t that he didn’t agree with Hermione - there wasn’t anything any of them could have done, and he certainly didn’t want Sirius, or Remus, or Ron, for that matter, blaming themselves for Hagrid’s death, but he knew he couldn’t actually say that right now. He was grateful that Hermione could.

Remus seemed to realize that neither Ron nor Harry was ready to talk yet, because he answered their most likely question without them needing to ask it.

“I’m going to be taking over the groundskeeper job for now,” he said, smiling his small smile at them. Remus’ smile was usually slightly sad, but now there was an added helplessness to it. It did become more genuine, though, when Ron snorted.

“You’re the best teacher we’ve ever had,” he said, though he looked around to make sure neither Professor McGonagall nor Professor Moody was around to hear. He obviously didn’t care that Snape was sitting only two seats away, his usual sneer in full force. “It’s bloody ridiculous to say you’ll be the groundskeeper.”

“Do keep your voice down, Mr. Weasley,” Snape said, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. “We don’t want other people thinking about how ‘bloody ridiculous’ it is. No, don’t look at me,” he added, his sneer intensifying. “One would think Dumbledore had taught you nothing at all.”

Ron’s ears turned red, but he didn’t say anything to Snape. Instead, he turned back to Remus and, in a much softer tone, said, “Well, it is bloody ridiculous.”

“Hopefully, not too many people will think so,” Remus said. “We thought that it wouldn’t be too surprising, since it’s common knowledge that I need a job.” His eyes twinkled as Ron and Harry looked indignant. “So, if you need me, I’ll be living in Hagrid’s hut, though of course I can never truly replace him.” His eyes softened, and he looked out across the hall at all the mourning students.

Harry felt Sirius bump his head into his hand again, and looked down. Remus must have noticed, because he gave a soft chuckle.

“And of course Padfoot will be with me,” he said, though he really couldn’t have seen what Sirius was doing over the head table. “We both hope all three of you will visit as often as you can. And Ginny...where is Ginny, by the way? Oh, I see her now.” He waved at her, so obviously not questioning why she wasn’t with the three of them, that Harry suspected Miss Stuart had told him about Ginny’s problems.

The rest of the day, and, in fact, the next few weeks, seemed to Harry to be insanity mixed with bouts of normalcy. Hagrid’s memorial service had to be held in the Great Hall, despite Ron’s lobbying of Professor Dumbledore to have it out on the Quidditch pitch. Harry agreed with him - it just seemed right to have a service for Hagrid outdoors, and, besides, Hagrid had loved Quidditch. But Dumbledore said that it was just too dangerous. The whole school and much of Hogsmeade, to say nothing of the many alumni who wanted to come, would be just too big and attractive a target for Voldemort. Harry made it through the service itself by somehow turning off his emotions - he just didn’t allow himself to feel what he was feeling. He couldn’t say anything, though, just like at the Creeveys’, because he knew that if he did, he would break down. So he sat there, listening, taking everything in, and cursing Voldemort in his heart. He knew that, even though Voldemort wasn’t the direct cause of Hagrid’s death, he was certainly the indirect cause, and this was just one more reason why he had to be stopped. As though Harry needed another reason.

Hagrid’s memorial service was one thing that seemed to Harry to be just surreal, but there were others. Seeing Miss Stuart and Snape speaking - civilly! - in the hall, watching Remus go about Hagrid’s groundskeeping duties (though he used more magic to do them than Hagrid ever had), receiving care packages almost every other day from Mrs. Weasley, who seemed to be working off her grief by cooking and baking, seeing Filch sitting at Remus’ kitchen table crying one day when he went down to visit, seeing Ginny in the halls between classes, surrounded by the girls of her year. Not that he wasn’t happy that she’d finally made friends with them, but it just reinforced how much he missed her.

Normalcy was going to his classes, where the teachers all managed to act completely as usual, studying for the O.W.L.s like any fifth-year, practicing Quidditch at all hours and in all conditions (Angelina seemed to be taking a page from Oliver’s book lately), listening to Ron and Hermione’s now good-natured bickering, and watching Ginny. Harry felt like he’d always been watching Ginny, even though, when he thought back on it, it had only been a couple of months since he’d realized how he felt about her. It felt normal, too, to exchange glances with her in the halls, even though they’d never really done that before. It was wonderful to know how she felt about him, and to know that she knew how he felt about her, even though they couldn’t do anything about it yet.

It was an odd existence. Harry tried several times to talk to Remus and Sirius, to try to get them to tell him what was going on in the war. For it was a war now, if it hadn’t been before, even though the Ministry, including Percy, still wasn’t admitting it. Harry suspected that Remus wanted to tell him more than he did, but Sirius refused, and Remus bowed to Harry’s godfather’s wishes. So Harry had to live a normal life, even with all of the insanity going on, not because he could, but because he wasn’t allowed to do anything else.