Simon says...

Diese Augen haben es gesehen
Doch diese Augen schließen sich
Und das Schweigen wird unerträglich laut.*

(Lacrimosa)

"Tell me it's a lie." Hermione had appeared in front of Harry and pushed him against a wall in the Entrance Hall.

"What?" Harry and Simon had stayed up late the night before, discussing what had happened. He hadn't slept well for quite some time now and was too tired for mind games.

"There's a rumour spreading that you renounced the DA," she accused him.

"That is not just a rumour," Harry determined.

"Why? You know we need you. We need the practice. You can't just leave it all behind," said Hermione, trying to talk sense into him.

"You weren't there and apparently they didn't tell you the whole story. You should have seen them, or better, heard them. All those nasty things they said about Simon, especially after they found out he's a Legilimens."

"Oh boy. How did he take it?"

"I wish I had his patience. He was absolutely calm and didn't seem to care. When they started harassing me, too, I couldn't stand it any longer and we left."

"Woah! What did they accuse you of?" Hermione was bewildered.

"You know, me being the Parselmouth I am and now a Slytherin as well. And then befriending a Lestrange, seems it didn't lift my reputation. There's no other solution than me being a screwed up, bad guy," Harry said, the sarcasm all too clear in his voice.

"And how will it go on now? I'm sure there are still people who'd like to learn something from you."

"Not at all. Simple as that. I don't feel like teaching anymore, I have enough on my mind without it. Please stop bugging me; I'm not going to change my mind, okay?" Harry clutched his bag and wound his way through to the Great Hall to grab a bite to eat before his first lesson.

***

To the classes' relief, Professor McPherson announced that they would be starting a new topic next week. Unfortunately, the good news was hooked to a little test to inspect their skills in Projecting. Each student received an object. Harry was given a feather, which was supposed to be writing upon command, not unlike a Dictaphone. On his second try, he was sure he had got it right, put a piece of parchment underneath the feather and started to say out loud, "Projection means to magically give objects the skill to perform tasks on their own."

The feather furiously darted across the parchment. Harry stopped speaking and when it came to a halt, he picked up the parchment and read, "Pprdjecten meens t madgically giv ubjecs the skill t perrvorm on theyr ouwn."

Harry sighed. He struggle three more times until he finally managed to accomplish the task to his satisfaction. There were still minor mistakes, but the sentence was readable. Then he took the time to check upon his classmates. Hermione's broom was happily sweeping the room. In front of Malfoy was a kettle boiling tea while Neville's knitting needles were knitting a brown, but ugly, scarf.

***

Afterwards, Harry walked down the stairs to his next lesson, Potions, when he noticed a crowd in front of the notice board. Simon was just emerging from their midst.

"Hi, what's up over there?" Harry asked him.

"Oh, nothing major. They just announced the next Hogsmeade weekend. Last weekend of the month."

"Oh, good. I'm running out of parchment and need to stock up on ink, as well."

"Do you think the girls will go? We could go together," Simon suggested.

"Sure, sounds good to me," Harry replied and then had to rush to be on time for Snape's class.

***

All in all, one could say that the days were passing without much trouble. Hermione had accepted the decision of not continuing the DA, though she still read all the books on defence she could get. Harry received many aggressive stares when walking down corridors. Simon had to tolerate a worse fate; people continuously threw verbal and magical insults at him. Both boys were smart enough not to get into any fights and silently endured this behaviour. Harry had mentioned the Hogsmeade weekend to Hermione and Ginny, but the girls never gave a definite answer. He suspected that Hermione still couldn't make up her mind and still maintained her crush on Simon. Yet, both could talk for hours about some arithmetic problem but as soon as Hermione's emotions run too high, Simon restored the distance that separated them by pulling Harry or Ginny into the discussion or abruptly changing the topic. Ginny was particularly on the edge these days. The coming weekend would be dominated by the Quidditch match, Phoenix versus Gryffindor. Even though she had nothing to fear from Whitby, the opposite Seeker, she still would have to face Ron. He had become more and more remote towards them; he was ignoring them completely now, even his sister.

***

The match was an adversity. Ginny flew as if it was her first time ever on a broom. Five minutes into the game, she failed to shun a Bludger. It didn't hit her, but crashed into her broom, causing severe damage to the aerodynamics. Afterwards, she had trouble keeping it on track. Gryffindor was still holding the lead by six goals, but with Ginny's broom out of control, the game was as good as lost. Still, Ginny and Whitby noticed the Snitch at the same time. Whitby took a straight course towards it, while Ginny struggled in a twisting path behind him. Naturally, she stood no chance, Whitby caught the Snitch and the stadium was lost in an explosion from the Phoenix students. Harry quickly ran down to the field, to get to Ginny and comfort her. He couldn't spot her anywhere. She wasn't in between the bobbing heads of the teams walking to the changing rooms, nor anywhere else. Finally, when the stadium had almost emptied completely, he saw her broom leaning against one of the goal posts. He checked the damage and could tell it was beyond repair. Still, the girl herself remained out of sight. He slowly traced his way back to the castle, carefully keeping his eyes open in case she was hiding out somewhere. He found her in a corner by the greenhouses, her faces hidden behind her shaking hands.

"Hi there," he said, cautiously stepping closer.

She jerked around, now he could see her tears. "I just knew I'd fail," she whispered. "They'll kick me out now."

Harry stepped even closer and put his arm around her. "It's okay. No one could have caught a melon with that broom."

"It's broken because I didn't pay attention. And I can't afford a new one and with the school brooms - I might as well resign." The tears running down her cheeks were huge.

"Ginny...I'm sure we'll find a good solution." Harry pulled her closer, feeling her body shake with sadness next to him.

"They'll throw me out," she repeated and burrowed her face in his shoulder. With every minute passed, her breathing calmed down and the tears subsided.

"Maybe you can take my broom for now," Harry suggested softly.

She looked up, her face inches from his. With her eyes puffy and muddy streaks on her cheeks, she still looked beautiful to him. "You don't really mean that."

"Why not?" he asked, determined to help her in this difficult situation.

"Because it's your treasure. You don't just give something this valuable to anyone," she sniffed.

Harry's eyes shyly glanced at her, with his head turned to the other side his lips moved, but hardly a sound left his lips, "You're not just anyone." He was blushing furiously; he looked at her again, giving her a faint, reassuring smile. Too nervous to repeat his thoughts aloud, he said, "You're cold, we should return to the castle."

Ginny seemed confused, looked directly at him. He was tempted to check what she was feeling and avoided her eyes. Then, looked at her anyway. For the briefest of moments, he thought to see himself embracing her.

You're such a thickhead, he thought, but Ginny was already straightening up.

"You're right," she was saying and started to walk towards the oak doors. He quickly followed and silently they walked side by side. She was about to push the doors open, when he stopped her.

"Ginny," Harry said and without thinking any further, he leaned forward and brushed her left cheek in the slightest of kisses.

Ginny's cheeks burst into a sea of red flames as she inclined her head.

Oh my, what did I just do? Harry willed the earth to open beneath and swallow him. Ginny lifted her head again; Harry gave her an embarrassed smile then quickly opened the doors to avoid her possible negative reaction. Inside, they were no longer alone. Here and there, groups of students were chatting about the match.

"I really should go and change," Ginny whispered. "I'll see you later." Then she hurried up the stairs.

"Later?" Harry called after her. Ginny turned at the head of the stairs, presented him with a happy smile then dashed off to her Common Room.

But later never came. Harry didn't see Ginny at all that weekend, but his thoughts were with her at all times.

***

Muggle Studies offered a welcome, relaxing alternative to the confusion in his mind and heart. So far, they had inspected, discussed and worked on and with several kitchen appliances. All were magically modified, so they'd work without electricity. For Harry, this had proved to be a fun fact. Since he already knew how what was used, he usually was asked to sit back and observe his fellow Slytherins. Watching their attempts to find out what, for example, a mixer was used for was more entertaining than any comedy show he had ever watched over Dudley's shoulder.

Today, Professor Canvass had brought new appliances to class, which were eyed suspiciously by the Slytherins.

"Good Morning," the teacher greeted the class. "Today will be dedicated to a new motto. All these things are used regularly in Muggle-households, even though not all Muggles like them. You have half an hour to try them out on your own and detect what these things are used for. Then, we will discuss them together." She looked at Harry. "I'd like you to keep your knowledge to yourself for now and let the others experiment."

Harry watched the students approach the 'things', a slight smile already curving his lips.

"Be careful, some of these can be dangerous if misused," their teacher added as an afterthought.

Blaise went straight for a bucket of clothes-pegs. First, she only looked at it, then slowly, extended her hand and carefully lifted a peg. She examined it from all angles, then let it snap her index-finger. She jumped back, but seemed to have an idea what to do with them: she started to decorate her robe with the colourful items.

Across the room, Malfoy and Pansy were studying a much bigger item.

"Looks a bit like one of these washer-thingys. What was it?" Malfoy questioned with raised eyebrows.

"Dishwasher. But this one has a window!" Pansy explained.

"Maybe it's some kind of weird cage?" Malfoy suggested and peeked inside the washing machine through the window of the door. He started to push various buttons and suddenly the door leapt open and hit him on the forehead. He jerked backwards, swearing loudly. With pale faces, the two students waited from a distance to see what else would happen.

An agonized yell forced Harry's attention to Dora. Her face was torn in pain. Next to her, an iron was toppled up side down on the floor. Professor Canvass hurried to her, but the injury was only minor. Dora turned to the ironing board. She unfolded it, but was left in doubt as to what it was good for.

"Ey, Draco, it has a wheel inside," Pansy exclaimed. Her hand was hidden inside the washing machine and she was turning it round and round.

Suddenly, a nasty smell circled into Harry's nostrils. He looked around and spotted Crabbe and Goyle in a back corner of the room. They were sitting in front of a dryer, which actually seemed to be drying something. When the sound announced that it was done, Goyle opened the door. Inside, he revealed an incredible mess. Apparently, they had decided that the dryer had to be some sort of oven and tried to warm up some muffins, they had sneaked from breakfast.

Professor Canvass called for their attention. Before she could ask for the student's musings considering the objects they had just examined, she was interrupted by a heavy moan. Crabbe was crouching above a bucket. He half lifted his head and announced, "this stuff is amazing. It solves any stomach ache in no time." He retched once more and his head disappeared back into the bucket. Professor Canvass cleared her throat and explained that Muggles usually use the white powder to clean their clothes, then moved on to the other appliances.

***

The next weekend came, and Harry still hadn't talked to Ginny, or even seen her up close. During his Occlumency lesson on Friday evening, Simon was overwhelmed by the emotional chaos that radiated from Harry. He explained that positive feelings could allow entrance to someone's mind just as easily as negative. Harry was still having trouble to control fear and anger, so he really should sort his love and happiness out soon.

After this, the two boys agreed to visit Hogsmeade without the girls. Harry sent Hedwig with a quick note to Hermione, then spent another sleepless night in the dungeons.

***

"So, what are you going to do about Ginny?" Simon inquired.

"Dunno." Harry carefully examined the dust gathering on the tip of his shoes while walking. "If I could just work up the courage to talk to her."

"You're just afraid of making a fool of yourself," Simon stated, once again knowing Harry's thoughts better than he did himself.

Harry blew a string of hair out of his face. "I just don't know what to say, instead I only blush in a way that would make Ron jealous and get him sniggering."

"That's just the way it is. I thought you wanted to write her a letter?"

"Right. And what exactly do you propose I write?" Harry asked sarcastically raising his eyebrows, while recalling his disastrous try during his last lunch break.

They had left the last houses of Hogsmeade behind them; Harry could make out the distant shape of the Shrieking Shack looming between several large trees ahead of them.

"Let's see," Simon said in a mocking way, putting his index finger atop his nose and tipping his head to the side as if he was mulling over a difficult question. "You could write about the truth. What you really feel, your confusion."

"What?"

"You heard me. You really like her, but you're not sure it's love. But you do know that she's always loved you. That you're confused and don't want to hurt her."

Harry sat by a nearby tree, pulled out parchment and the pen the Dursleys had given him and started to write. "Dear Ginny." He crossed it out immediately afterwards, and wrote 'Hello, Ginny' instead. Then, he looked up at Simon, his eyes wide with expectation.

"You don't actually expect me to dictate you a letter?" Simon's lips curved in a smile. "It's okay to write 'Dear, Ginny'. It sounds better and you should also apologize for being such a twit last week, being too scared to meet up with her."

"You're kidding me." Harry furrowed his eyebrows, trying to determine if Simon was being serious or pulling his leg.

"No. This is just being honest. How else is she supposed to understand your weird behaviour?"

Harry turned his eyes back to the parchment and gnawed at the end of the pen. Finally, he made up his mind and begun to phrase Simon's suggestion into his own words. Before he could finish, however, a scream echoed through the trees. Harry jumped up, looked around wildly and automatically pulled his wand from beneath his robes. They weren't alone. A menacing cold spread around them. Another scream, this time apparently from a woman, followed the first. Simon and Harry looked at each other, then, simultaneously, sprinted into the direction of the eerie cry. The further they ran, the colder the air became. A well-known feeling flooded Harry's veins. They reached the Shrieking Shack totally out of breath. The muddy ground made it harder for them to move forward and Simon overtook Harry and headed across the yard into the dark, thick trees behind it. The emptiness Harry felt was overwhelming.

"Simon, wait!" Not knowing, only dreading, what he would find behind those trees, Harry warned Simon to go further and once again took the lead. Determined, the two boys fought their way through the branches.

***

"Harry." A faint whisper prevented Harry from storming onto the narrow path. He turned to his left and spotted Luna cowering underneath a bush. She was trembling all over her body.

"You have to help Justin. He's..." She couldn't continue and only pointed a weak arm into the undergrowth in front of her.

Harry took a deep breath and stepped out of the scrub onto a clearing. His senses hadn't betrayed him. Only a few steps to his left, a Dementor was hovering above a small bulge on the path. The ominous rattling, the dark creature was producing, turned into a sound of terror and Harry's heart stopped for a few beats, as he realized what it was doing. The lump beneath it was a human being. Justin's trembling body appeared to be stiff from fear; his eyes were fixed upon the black opening of the hood. The Dementor was in the process of lowering its head. Harry was unable to move. He saw a cemetery, a shape rising from a cauldron in front of his inner eye. He shuddered. He had to think of something good, something happy. But it wasn't enough. The Patronus Charm was merely a silver mist floating shortly in front of him before it evaporated into thin air.

Just one happy thought. That's all he wanted. One joyful moment. But with every inch the Dementor got closer to Justin's face, the panic in Harry increased. Frantically, he sought for a recent happy event. Just in that moment Justin's body jerked slightly upwards, as if being sucked by something. His head was hidden completely underneath the Dementor's hood. It had connected with his mouth and a faint golden light seemed to be flowing from Justin into the Dementor.

Harry, do something! Simon's voice penetrated his mind. Think about Ginny!

'Ginny!' Harry thought of how they had embraced. He felt the warmth and happiness spread through his body, chasing the numbness out.

"Expecto Patronum!"

But it was too late. The weak light had vanished inside the Dementor and it was slowly moving upwards. The silvery stag drove it away, with Justin's soul lost in the depths of its darkness.

***

Harry burst forward to kneel beside Justin.

"Justin!" He called the boy by his name, but the eyes stayed closed. "Please let him just be unconscious," he whispered.

Neville crawled towards them from another set of cavernous trees. "Is he..." He started but was unable to finish the sentence.

Luna and Simon approached the three too. "It's too late," the older student said solemnly.

"No! Justin!" Harry yelled and shook the body. "No, he can't be." His voice was desperate. Harry looked up at Simon, hoping for some kind of advanced, miraculous healing. But in Simon's eyes, Harry met only fear. He saw the outline of a small group of people...Death Eater...a small child, no older than two...in the hands of another person...the only one not clad in black, but in a blinding white...red eyes...but the vision was gone as fast as it had come - leaving only pale blue eyes. Harry shook his head slightly.

"The Dementor took his soul," Simon said quietly.

"No." Harry refused to believe what he knew was the bitter truth.

"Look into his eyes," Simon demanded.

Harry slowly and carefully pulled up Justin's right eyelid. An eye stared back at him. Empty. Blank. Not just numb or sad, but dead. Justin was gone. Nothing was left in his eyes that could have remotely suggested life. Harry covered the eyes with his shaky hands, closing them. Somewhere behind him, Luna was sobbing, her hands clutched in front of her mouth. Neville fell back against a tree stump. He stared at Justin's body, trying to understand. Harry's mind was empty. He tried to think of nothing at all, pushing the image of the Dementor above Justin, sucking his soul, as far back as he possibly could.

***

Minutes passed. Occasionally, Justin seemed to be gasping for air, like someone in panic. But he wasn't in panic. He couldn't be. He was no longer able to feel. He was just an empty shell, powerless.

Harry tore his eyes away from his classmate. "What now?" he mouthed.

"Help. We have to get help," Luna whispered. "Dumbledore, maybe."

Harry looked at her, but then the foreboding feeling returned. Next to him, Simon hastily got up. He walked to Neville, who was hugging his knees tightly in shock.

"Neville?" But Neville didn't seem to hear Simon's quiet voice. "Neville!" Simon called him again, this time louder. "The Dementor. I think it's coming back. We have to get out of here," Simon urged them, while pulling Neville to his feet.

Neville's eyes searched the empty clearing, but he willingly followed Simon. Luna hurried towards them and offered Neville her shoulder for support. Simon and Harry took Justin's body and dashed through the branches into the direction of the Shrieking Shack and Hogwarts, closely followed by Luna and Neville. Harry felt the numbness return to his veins. They had reached the yard and darted across the muddy pathway. Almost at the grounds, Harry saw the Dementor and gasped. There wasn't just the one - but several. Fear, panic and horror run through his body. He quickly looked at the others. He urged Justin into Simon's arms and tried to focus. He raised his wand, but again, the Patronus Charm wouldn't work. His brain seemed frozen. Again and again, he yelled the incantation, but no happy thought would cross his mind. The Dementors' only reaction was to wave the silver mist away in an annoyed fashion. They came closer and closer...

TBC

A/N:
The quote translates as follows:
These eyes have seen it
But these eyes now close
And the silence becomes unbearably loud.