The Greatest Kind of Magic

16. Dreaming The Same Dream

Ellie and Jeremy ate their breakfast together in silence. They had talked late into the night, moving to an empty classroom after Madam Pince closed the library. Now, for the time being, there seemed to be nothing more to say.

Ellie had never felt as sorry for anybody as she did for Jeremy. He seemed so hopelessly trapped. Ellie shuddered at the thought of being at the mercy of the Slytherins. Draco Malfoy had always been arrogant and irritating, but lately he had become simply frightening.

Jeremy, however, seemed even more frightened of his father, and this scared Ellie more than anything. What could possibly be worse than Malfoy and the other Slytherins? Jeremy never explained his fear, so Ellie could only imagine. And what she imagined wasn't pretty.

Ellie had another problem, too. Liam.

What to do about Liam? She had promised to keep Jeremy's secret, and she knew she couldn't break that promise, no matter what. And yet - Liam was her friend. Liam deserved to know the truth about what'd happened to him. She knew it bothered him, knew that he hated the hole in his memory. And here she was, knowing exactly what had happened that night - but she'd promised not to tell.

"Jeremy," she said hesitantly, "I've been thinking..."

Jeremy looked up, his eyes wary. That was something else about him - though he'd confided in her, Jeremy never really seemed to relax. He was always on guard, always waiting for something - what, Ellie didn't know. A rebuke? A betrayal? He had confided in her, but he didn't seem to trust her.

"Look," she began, pausing to find the right words. "I've been thinking, maybe you should tell Liam?"

The table shook as Jeremy shot to his feet. "No! Please don't tell him!"

"It's okay, it's okay, I wasn't going to! Don't worry!" said Ellie desperately, hoping he'd sit back down. "Please, just hear me out?"

Jeremy sat down reluctantly. "What do you mean, 'tell Liam'?"

"I mean, not me, but you tell him. Liam - Liam would understand. He really would. And then... then maybe he could help you."

Jeremy laughed. It was that bitter laugh he always had, that never showed even the slightest trace of humour. Ellie wondered if Jeremy had ever laughed for real.

"Help me? How could he help me? Why would he? If I tell him what I did..."

"Liam would understand. He... he's really good at understanding people. And he's good at helping. And... well, he's part of this group..." Again, Ellie hesitated. Here was a secret Liam had told her to keep. Was she betraying him?

Why am I caught between so many secrets? If only people were more open, if only they'd talk freely...

But the war, of course, would never allow that.

In a flash, Ellie made her decision. She did not have to tell Jeremy anything specific about the DA - besides, she didn't even know anything that specific. All she'd be telling Jeremy was that such a group existed, and that Liam, and many other people were part of it. Maybe that would be enough.

"Look, this group," she told Jeremy after she'd explained, "maybe they could protect you. At least you wouldn't be alone! Just tell Liam. I'll come with you if you want. Tell Liam, he'll understand."

Jeremy opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, they heard voices in the Great Hall.

Ginny Weasley was coming towards them, talking animatedly to Liam.

***

"You're a genius," said Liam for the fourth time that morning. "You're a lifesaver, you really are."

Ginny seemed to be trying not to smile. "I told you," she said, "you should thank my brothers, not me. Fred and George gave me that ink. Don't know what they thought I'd use it for - I guess it'd be great for writing secret love letters or something."

They hadn't slept. They'd spent the night in the common room, perfecting Jessie's letter. The sun had risen above the mountains by the time they finally came down to the Owlery to send it off. Afterwards, both had found that they were too excited to sleep, despite their exhaustion. Liam knew he would pay for it later, but it hardly mattered. They were on holidays and could sleep whenever they wanted. By unspoken agreement, they'd walked straight past the entrance to Gryffindor Tower and headed down to the Great Hall.

Sleep could wait. Breakfast couldn't.

"It was a really cool bit of magic," Liam said admiringly. "Beautiful, actually. Your brothers must be really smart." He didn't add that he thought Ginny herself was brilliant.

"They are," said Ginny, smiling. "They didn't do very well at school, though. They were always getting into trouble. And in the end, they dropped out. Well, they would've been expelled anyway."

"Really? What did they do?"

Ginny's smile grew even wider, lighting up Liam's morning. "Well," she said, fighting a burst of giggles, "have you ever seen a Portable Swamp?"

"A what?"

"A Portable Swamp. It's when..."

She broke off, staring at the single table that had been placed in the Great Hall. Liam followed her gaze and saw Ellie and Jeremy Leighton, both staring at Liam and Ginny with their mouths open in surprise.

"Jesus Christ," said Liam quietly, "I completely forgot they were staying here. I wonder if they knew we were coming back?"

Ellie's greeting answered that question. "Liam? What are you doing here? I thought you'd gone home?"

"I... I had to come back. It's a long story," he said, glancing at Jeremy. Liam had his suspicions about the boy, though he didn't have proof. But at any rate, discussing the murder of Harry's family hardly seemed appropriate in the company of a Slytherin.

Jeremy, however, quickly solved the problem. The moment Liam sat down, Jeremy jumped to his feet as if he'd been burned. He glanced quickly at Ellie, then at Liam and Ginny. Then he glanced back at Ellie again, his face pale, and fled.

"What was that all about?" asked Ginny.

Ellie looked uncomfortable.

Liam was curious. "Were you talking to him just then?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Ellie. "He's..."

But what Jeremy was, Liam never found out. At that moment, Harry and Ron came into the Great Hall, and Ellie asked again what they were all doing back. In the subsequent round of explanations, Jeremy was completely forgotten.

***

Although it was the middle of the day and a pale winter sun was shining outside, Jessie's room was almost dark. The blue velvet curtains were drawn, leaving only a narrow gap, through which a sliver of light struggled to penetrate.

Jessie was sitting on the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. She was flipping through her diary, looking but not really seeing the notes on magic that she had so meticulously written down.

All lies.

She remembered her own excitement, her own blind faith. She'd been so sure - so absolutely confident that her magic was real.

How could I be so stupid?

Jessie threw down the diary in frustration. "It was all bollocks!" she shouted.

No it wasn't! her mind protested. It was real! You made things happen!

"Not like that," said Jessie hopelessly. "Not like that."

She could still see it in her mind: the great skull above the rooftops, leering at her from the sky.

And later - Liam floating into his car. Had his mother actually done that to him?

He deserved it, thought Jessie furiously. He deserved it, the liar.

But other thoughts began to creep in, taunting Jessie with nasty voices.

You're the idiot who believed that crap.

Did you actually think he cared about you?

They all knew: Liam and Davey and Sarah. They've been laughing at you all along.

They were never really your friends.

She could feel it returning: the old fears, the old pain. It was as if the past year hadn't happened. Her new life, her new friends, her new magic - none of it was real. There was no magic - at least, not for Jessie. And there were no friends, because nobody could ever care about her, nobody could ever even notice her. Everything had been a joke, a cruel joke. Everything that had filled up her life since that night at Davey's party had fallen away, leaving behind the old gnawing emptiness.

There's nothing there for you, Jess. It was all a joke. You're a joke.

"No," she whispered, blinking back tears. "No."

She didn't want to cry. She wasn't going to cry. I'm not that pathetic, dammit!

Instead, she opened her drawer and reached for the scissors. It was easier to bleed than to cry. It didn't hurt as much. It'll show them.

She looked at the scars on her arm: just tiny white lines now. She hadn't cut herself in months. There'd been no need. Now she opened the scissors and pressed the point against her pale skin, closing her eyes as she did so.

Liam hated it when I cut, Jessie thought.

"Good," she said out loud with grim satisfaction.

Bang!

Something slammed into the window.

Jessie's eyes snapped open. She whirled around, dropping the scissors.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!

She jumped to her feet, breathing fast. "What the..."

The tapping continued, so loud that Jessie was sure any second now her window would break. She had no idea what it could be: her room was on the second floor.

Images of burglars and rapists and axe murderers flashed through her mind.

"Go away!" she shouted, scanning the room for anything she could use as a weapon. "I'll call the police!"

The tapping continued.

Heart pounding, Jessie backed towards her wardrobe. Afraid to take her eyes off the window, she crouched down on the floor and began rummaging through the pile of shoes behind her.

Her hand brushed the worn-out toes of a Doc Marten boot. She picked it up by the laces and crept towards the window. The boot's sturdy weight was reassuring in her hand.

When the window was within arm's reach, Jessie paused and took a deep breath. Then, clutching her boot, she flung back the curtains.

Blinded by the sudden influx of light, it took Jessie a few seconds to realise what she was seeing.

Pecking at the glass was a large brown...

...Owl?

Jessie stared. What the hell...?

Now that the bird had seen her, it began tapping even more insistently. Jessie noticed that something was tied to the bird's leg.

An envelope.

Jessie made a decision. Tightening her grip on the boot, she stepped forward and opened the window. Then she quickly jumped back, terrified the owl would attack her.

The owl flew into her room, then came back to perch on the windowsill. Calm as anything, it held out its leg with the envelope.

Feeling somewhat silly, Jessie asked, "Do you... d'you want me to untie it?"

The bird looked at her steadily with liquid yellow eyes.

"Is it... a letter? For me?"

The owl made no sign, but Jessie was sure that this was what it was. Nothing else could possibly make any sense.

Tentatively, she reached out with her hand. The bird still didn't move. With trembling fingers, Jessie stroked its feathers.

"You're not gonna hurt me, are you?" she said, a small smile creeping to her face. "You really freaked me out there."

Feeling more confident now, Jessie put down her boot and untied the letter. A quick glance showed that it was indeed addressed to her.

With a soft hoot, the owl took flight. Startled, Jessie stepped back from the window. When the bird was gone, she felt the emptiness returning, like a block of ice in the pit of her stomach.

But she still had the letter.

Jessie tore open the envelope. The letter inside was written in multicoloured ink, in a frivolous, loopy script, with little love hearts dotting the 'i's.

Dear Jessie,

(I know your name is Jessie because Liam has a picture of you and the other Muggles in his dormitory. I asked him who you are, and he said your name is Jessie). I didn't ask him your address, because that would just be too weird, but I looked through his trunk when he wasn't there, to find it.

Jessie paused, reading the paragraph again. Is this for real? she thought. Her mouth open in disbelief, she continued reading.

The reason I'm writing is because I am HOPELESSLY DESPERATELY IN LOVE WITH LIAM!!!! XXXXX. I just HAVE to get him to like me - I will DIE if he doesn't! But I don't know how to get him to like me, and since you're one of his friends, I thought you might be able to tell me what Liam likes, so I'll know what to get him for Christmas...I figured you wouldn't mind, since you're a Muggle. I really am in love - Muggles do fall in love, don't they? Please please PLEASE help!

XXXXXX

Ginny

"You have got to be joking," said Jessie out loud.

She read the letter again, feeling her anger rising like never before.

It was bad enough that he'd been lying to her for the past year. It was bad enough that they'd all been laughing behind her back. But this - this - was the last straw. To have some ditzy little witch - some little idiot with a crush on Liam sending her letters, asking what to get him for Christmas! "Muggles do fall in love, don't they?" What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"Oh, this is beyond a joke," Jessie muttered. What hurt, what really hurt more than anything, was the knowledge that somewhere out there with Liam was this stupid, brainless little twit, who was learning Magic! While she, Jessie, who wanted to learn magic more than anything, who'd thought she could do magic until Liam had told her she couldn't, she was stuck here, alone in her room with no friends and no magic and no Liam.

Boiling with rage, Jessie tore the letter in half. She put the pieces together, ready to tear them in half again.

Before she could, however, she felt the letter grow hot in her hands. Startled, she dropped the torn pieces.

On the floor, they began to glow. A sphere of golden light solidified above the pieces.

Jessie backed away until she felt the wall against her shoulderblades. All she could think was, Magic. I'm seeing real magic.

The sphere rose off the floor until it was floating at Jessie's eye-level. And then it began to move, leaving fine golden threads in the air.

The threads resolved themselves into words.

Dear Jessie,

Please ignore Ginny's letter. I'm not allowed to write to anyone in the non-magical world, and this was the only way we could think of for me to write to you. Ginny won't be able to write to you again, so this is the last letter I can send you until my next holidays.

I'm so sorry, Jess. I never got the chance to explain - and I so wanted to. I never meant to hurt you, and I wouldn't have lied if I hadn't been scared about you. I was such an idiot. I know I screwed up, Jess...

Jessie sank down onto the floor, reading silently as more words appeared. Her head reeled.

How can this be possible? she thought, though of course she knew the answer.

The words might have been spelled out in the air in threads of golden light. But the handwriting was unmistakably Liam's.

***

Liam knew the letter would have repercussions. Sure enough, two days after they sent it, an owl arrived for Ginny, carrying a warning note from the Ministry.

"If I do it again, my parents will get a fine," said Ginny, reading the note. She smiled wryly. "And I'll probably get a Howler. But as long as Jessie got this letter..."

Liam was struck by a sudden worry. "Hey - she did get it, didn't she? The Ministry wouldn't have stopped it getting to her?" He fought a wave of nausea as he thought of something even worse: "What if they modify her memory, so she can't remember the letter?"

Ginny frowned, thinking. "No - I don't think they will. They didn't say anything like that in the note. But anyway - we'll know soon."

Liam nodded, feeling a little bit better.

He had asked Jessie to write a reply to Ginny, as a signal that she'd read and received the letter.

So now we just have to wait.

What if she doesn't reply?

What if she...

Liam pushed the thoughts away. I've done everything I can. Now I just have to wait.

It didn't make things any easier. Liam was constantly on edge: waiting, worrying. Every morning, he anxiously watched for the post owls, and every morning he left the Great Hall disappointed.

Only one thing kept him sane for those few days. Music.

In the rush to pack for his return to Hogwarts, he had forgotten about Hermione's spell, so his CD player remained at home. But with Gryffindor Tower almost empty, he was free to play his violin whenever he wanted. Its graceful sound, at first so strange to Harry, Ginny and Ron, quickly became familiar, and they looked forward to hearing Liam play. They didn't tell him this, but somehow, Liam sensed it, and this encouraged him even more.

Ginny in particular seemed to love Liam's violin. Often, in the silence after the music, he would see her - leaning against the doorframe, or sitting quietly in a corner. She had a way of coming in while he was playing without him realising.

After a while, even when Ginny wasn't there, Liam imagined he was playing for her.

The music sounds better that way. For some reason, Liam blushed at this thought.

***

One evening, as he was putting away the violin, Ginny asked him about how he got into music.

"I mean, you're a wizard," she said. "And most wizards don't seem to know much about music at all. How did you get to learn the violin?"

"It was Davey," he replied. He grinned, remembering. "Davey's parents wanted him to learn the violin. He was always whingeing about it. His parents were really into culture, you see, so they were always trying to force all this stuff down Davey's throat, when he just wanted to play football. So one day, I was playing at his house, and his mum put on some music. Davey was all like, 'Aw, Mum, turn it off...' But I thought it was the most amazing thing I'd ever heard..."

"What was it?" asked Ginny.

"Beethoven," said Liam without hesitation. "'Storm'. So there and then, I decided I wanted to learn music." Liam heard the music in his head. He wished he could share it with Ginny.

"How old were you?" she asked.

"Seven. I begged my parents until they gave in. I started learning violin first, then I picked up piano as well. I only have a keyboard at home, but I love it anyway." He paused, thinking of it collecting dust on his desk. "I really miss it here."

"Your keyboard?"

"Yeah. See, I like to write music as well as play it. And... well, since starting here, I've written so much music, but it's all in my head, and I can't get it outside my head without my keyboard. I was gonna do it in the holidays, but of course, I got sent back here before I got a chance to do anything!"

This brought back thoughts of Jessie and of the Dark Mark in Little Whinging. Liam stared at his violin moodily. "God, if I could just have my keyboard here..."

He trailed off into silence. Ginny didn't say anything. Eventually, Liam looked up, and saw her staring back at him, her face determined.

It was the same eager look she'd had when she'd thought of Jessie's letter.

"What?" he asked, feeling his heart stir with anticipation. "You thought of something?"

Ginny seemed to still be thinking. "Well... it depends. How badly do you think you need to play your keyboard?"

What a question, thought Liam. I'm going mental here! "I'm gonna go mad if I don't get to play soon. I don't know how I'm gonna last until June."

"And does it have to be your keyboard? Will a piano do?"

"Piano would be even better. I have a keyboard at home because we can't afford a piano." His eyes widened. "You're not telling me there's one at Hogwarts?"

"Well," said Ginny, that devious smile spreading on her face, "there could be."

***

"A piano," moaned Liam, not daring to believe his eyes. "It's a bloody piano."

A grand piano and a stool were the only objects in the room - a hall, really - with marble floors and large windows facing out onto the grounds. Hundreds of candles lit up the room, though they were not bright enough to mask the cool moonlight filtering through the windows.

"I've never seen the Room of Requirement have windows before," mused Ginny. "I wonder why they're here?"

"No idea," said Liam, gazing around in amazement. "I like windows, if that means anything. But... this is amazing."

Ginny smiled. "There's something to be said for a magical school, hey?"

Liam laughed. He ran towards the piano, but stopped before he reached it and spun around. He ran back to Ginny and hugged her. "I think I love you," he said. His tone was casual, but as soon as the words were out, his heart started to beat faster.

Don't be an idiot, he scolded himself. Now get over to that piano and play!

He took a deep breath before sitting down. Finally, finally!

His slid his hands over the keys, not pressing down, just feeling them under his fingers.

Then he played a single chord. It rang out, clear and beautiful like a breath of fresh air. Liam drank it in.

"Well, go on, play something!" Ginny urged.

Liam twisted around to face her. "And what wouldst my lady have me play? What doth my lady request?"

"I don't know," said Ginny. "I don't know any music, except the Weird Sisters.

"That," said Liam, "is tragic."

He turned back to the piano. What should I play?

He thought of all the music he knew - classical, jazz, blues. Liam's taste in music varied greatly - depending on his mood, he could listen to almost any style. But what to play here, in this magical room so far away from the world he knew and where all his music came from? What to play for this beautiful, sweet, clever girl, who always seemed to know exactly what to do and say to make him feel good?

He thought for a long time. At first, he considered playing something happy and frivolous, something Ginny might dance to. He was certainly feeling good enough.

But other feelings crept in, and somehow that didn't seem so appropriate. Too many things had happened, too many serious things, for him to ignore them. They were in the middle of a war... people they knew had died. Ginny had lost a friend, and Liam was terrified that he would lose one, too. Harry had lost his family. It didn't matter that Harry wasn't there in the room - Harry's loss still mattered.

And there was all that other stuff - the fire and the attack, and the big black hole in Liam's memory. The Dark Mark so near his home - the Dark Mark so near his friends!

And Ginny. Sometimes she seemed like the only bright light in Liam's world. He wondered if anyone else saw her that way. And she's got darkness in her past that I can barely even imagine...

Liam started to play.

Music filled the room, filled the castle. Music filled Liam, and he knew it filled Ginny, standing behind him and listening.

More: in that music - music he'd heard and played so many times! - in that music, Liam heard the echoes of grief and loss and sadness: his, Ginny's, Harry's, Jessie's. Thoughts and images of everybody he knew seemed to flash through Liam's mind. And he wondered, in whatever part of his mind could still wonder at that moment, how it was possible to feel so much pain and sadness, and yet feel so much light and freedom and joy at the same time. The music - hearing music, playing music - filled Liam with so much emotion, he could hardly breathe.

And all the while he was aware of Ginny.

Ginny standing behind him. Ginny hearing him play. Ginny feeling every note.

Then Liam felt the magic. It came, and joined the magic that was the music itself, and built up and up like Liam had never felt before. It was the same Rogue Magic that broke the lantern on the Hogwarts Express; that tipped Malfoy's cauldron; that turned a potion into a creature with teeth and legs. But always before, this magic had come out of fear and anger and despair. It had hurt, broken, smashed.

Now it came out of music, out of hope, out of beauty and love.

Liam had never felt that before.

Music and Magic... Magic and Music...

And Love.

Liam played the final chords and heard them fading into castle.

Silence.

They were both afraid to break it. Liam stood up and faced Ginny without a word.

She spoke first. "What was that?" she asked in a whisper.

"'Moonlight Sonata'," said Liam.

The candles blew out: all of them, all at once.

Silence. The moon shone through the windows, lighting the room in shades of blue and silver. Liam and Ginny looked at each other, afraid to speak.

Then Liam heard the music in his head. Not the sonata he'd just played, but new music, his own music: murmurs and fragments and snatches of melodies he'd never had a chance to put together. In those melodies, Liam heard all his pent-up emotions: the loneliness and fear, and the horror that came with the day that had been ripped out. But along with that was the warmth, the light and joy that made everything bearable, made everything worthwhile. He could hear it in the music in his head...

And he could see her standing in front of him.

"Ginny..." he began, but stopped because he didn't know how to continue, and he couldn't think through the music in his head. He could hear it like he'd never heard that music before, like it wasn't just in his head, but...

Ginny put a finger to her lips. "Can you hear that?" she asked, her voice barely louder than a breath.

Liam listened.

He could hear it. It was real... not real in his head, but really real, really playing there in the room.

"You can hear it too," he said, awestruck.

"Yes," she whispered in reply. "What is it?"

Liam felt the magic in his heart, in his soul, in the very air around him. "My music. The castle... is playing my music."

"You wrote it?"

Liam shook his head slowly. He was beyond amazement. "I haven't written it yet," he said.

Not like hearing it on CD, not even like a live performance: this music seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Part of it, Liam knew, was still just in his mind. He had heard those melodies before, those fragments he'd longed to play for real. Now they were coming together for the first time, though they still weren't entirely clear. The music didn't play: it whispered.

And Ginny can hear it, too.

That was the most amazing thing of all. Ginny could hear it, and after a few seconds, she began to dance.

At first, Liam didn't realise what she was doing. Just - a step here, a sway there. She turned, she stepped. Slowly, carefully, like someone who didn't really know how dancing was supposed to be done. But she was definitely dancing.

Dancing to the music in my head... No, in my heart.

In a trance, he took her by the hands. The music whispered on: Liam's music that he'd never played, never fully composed. Holding hands, they turned and stepped, clumsy at first, then forgetting their feet and feeling only the music.

"I'm dreaming," he told her as they spun around the room. "I must be."

"If you are," she replied, "then so am I, and we're dreaming the same dream."

It might have been hours, or perhaps it was only minutes. Perhaps it was no time at all before Liam felt the song drawing to an end, felt and heard the castle whispering the final notes.

Ginny heard them too and stopped dancing, standing still now to listen.

Then, in the silence that finished the music, Liam leaned over and kissed her.