Tumbling Down

"Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart.

The really great men must, I think, have a great sadness on Earth." ~Feodor Dostoyevsky

He couldn't believe how good she felt in his arms. The smell of her hair - cinnamon, maybe - wafted through the air over to her. His fingers slowly grazed the skin of her arm, up and down in a hypnotic rhythm. Her breathing and his were as one; the hair in front of her face quivered in the slight breeze of her breathe. He stared at her closed eyes, his own half open as he tried to keep away sleep.

Their bodies were merely inches apart as they both lay on bed. He didn't want to leave her, just stay there and gaze at the view, but he knew he had to. Before this ever happened they decided that even if they fell asleep together, they would never wake up next to each other.

Slowly, reluctantly, he disentangled himself and pulled the blankets off of himself. She murmured softly in her sleep, but didn't wake up. He put on his shirt and pants, then wrapped his robe around him. He leaned over and kissed her closed eyelids. She stirred but didn't wake, and he pulled the sheet up to her bare shoulders.

Tiptoeing quietly to the door as to not wake her, he wrapped his hand around the doorknob and cast one last glance across the room at her sleeping body. He slipped through the doorway and began the long walk back.

***

Harry woke with a start, fully clothed and in the library. Ron was in the chair beside him, his head cradled in his arms and fine line of spit from the corner of his mouth to his sleeve. Harry yawned, stretching his arms over his head. Apparently, the all night study for Snape's test was not a success. Glancing at his watch, he saw he had just enough time for a quick shower.

He slung his bag on his shoulder and gave his friend a quick shove. A moan sounded from the ginger head, and Ron looked up at Harry. "Are we still in the library?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"Indeed we are," Harry answered. He stuffed the loose parchments on the table into his bag. "Come on. If we hurry we can grab a shower and get to class."

"Alright." Ron grabbed his things off the table and stood up. The side of his hair stuck up and his robes were wrinkled. They hurried out of the library and up to the Gryffindor common room.

On the way up the Grand Staircase they ran into the third member of their usual group, Hermione. She was already dressed, hair perfectly quaffed and bag slung elegantly slung over her shoulder. She had really into her own over the summer between fifth and sixth year, Harry had noticed; people other than just him noticed, but no one ever voiced their findings.

"Where were you two last night?" she asked them with a condescending tone in her voice. "We have a test in Potions today. Advanced Potions."`

"We were in the library studying all night," Ron countered. "What were you doing all night?"

"I don't need to pull all nighters. I actually pay attention in class."

"Well, we have to get cleaned up," Harry said before there was too much bloodshed. "We'll see you in class, Hermione."

"Will you be at breakfast?" she asked as she continued her way past them down the stairs.

"Maybe, but I doubt that we'll have time. See you." Harry quickly ascended the steps toward the common room.

"`Bye, Hermione," Ron called as he followed his friend up the stairs. He quickened his paced to catch up with Harry. "So what's the rush?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He pushed a small gaggle of second years out of his way. "I just need to take a shower is all."

"You took one last night right before we started studying."

"I need time to change my robes."

"That'll take you all of two minuets."

"Well, I've decided to take more pride in my appearance. I'm a good looking guy; I just have to show it."

"Mmhmm." Ron cast a side glance at his friend but didn't reply. They took a corner and he nearly ran over Harry, who had stopped in the middle of the hall, openly staring ahead of him. Ron followed his line of sight.

Ron's only sister, Ginny, stepped out of the portrait hole, thanking the Fat Lady as she swung closed. Harry's head tilted to the side slightly as he watched her hair bounce off her shoulders, the way her jumper clung to the delicate curves of her body through her open robes, the graceful strides her long, delectable took.

Harry snapped himself out of the daze. "G` morning Ginny," he called, forcing his legs to move towards her. She stopped and smiled at him.

"Good morning Harry, Ron. Another all night study session?" "Yeah. So are you going down to breakfast? That's where we're going. To breakfast."

"I was planning on it."

"Great, let's go." Harry turned toward the Grand Staircase.

"Are you coming, Ron?" Ginny asked. Ron had remained silent for the whole of the conversation, staring at his friend in amused wonder.

"I'll be down in a few minuets. Save me a place."

"Alright. See you." She turned and walked over to the door. Harry went to follow her, but Ron grabbed his arm.

"That was really suave. Quite debonnaire, I must say."

Harry's cheeks darkened to a scarlet blush. "Was it obvious?"

"Yes," Ron said bluntly. "But go on ahead." He let go of his friends arm. "Just be careful," he added. "I may love you like a brother, but she's my little sister. My only sister."

Harry smiled and walked over to the spot where Ginny waited for him. Ron shook his head and disappeared into the portrait hole.

***

Her eyes followed his every movement; his hands that touched her not so long ago as they held his utensils, the lips that caressed her skin so softly as they stretched into a smile. Everything else in the Great Hall melted away and became silent.

Oh, how she longed to have his arms around her body right then. To look deeply into his eyes and see all the answers to the questions she hadn't dared to ask. To feel his skin presses tightly against her own.

Most of all she wanted to wake in the morning and have him beside her; listen to the gentle metre of his breathing as light broke over the horizon. She wished that she could rush over to him and kiss him with all the passion that burned inside her, in front of the students and the teachers and the world.

His eyes met her from across the Hall, and he gave her smallest wink of recognition, setting her heart aflutter. He went back to laughing and eating along with his fellow house mates. Sound filled her ears once again. She folded her arms on the table and dropped her head in their crook, biting her lips to keep the scream of frustration from escaping.

Tonight they would have a long talk about their relationship. Before they got preoccupied with other things.

***

"May I have your attentions, please."

Dumbledore stood in front of the students in the Great Hall. Light glinted off his glasses and the ever present twinkle in his eyes was absent. "I hate to disturb your meal, but I have some rather disheartening news. I am displeased to inform you that the trip to Hogsmeade this weekend has been cancelled."

A roar of unhappiness erupted from the students and filled the Hall. Dumbledore waited a moment, then raised his hands for silence.

"Before you become fully displeased with me allow me to explain the situation. I have heard from my sources that Voldemort is beginning his plans for the Second War, and that new members of his following are and will to be there."

The angry murmur that had floated in the air was replaced by stunned and fearful silence. Dumbledore sadly surveyed the faces of his students, terrified and scared.

"And as much as you love to have a little time to yourselves off the grounds, I must have your safety as a first priority. I apologize. Please continue with your meal."

The food in Harry's mouth turned to sawdust, his fork became so heavy he could barely hold it up. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione also stopped eating and looked at him, concern reflecting in all of their eyes.

It was finally here. The Second War. The fight between good and evil. Harry thought he had been prepared for this, but the echoing words of his prophecy filled his mind. ...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... He let out an involuntary shudder, his heart beating in the back of his throat.

Ron was as pale as Sir Nicholas; Ginny chewed her lower lip; Hermione looked as though she were about to cry. Against what he believed were his better judgement, over the summer Harry had told his friends about his prophecy. It seemed that they were recalling it then as well.

He swallowed the tasteless lump in his throat and placed his fork on his plate; his hand shook, and the metal pinged dully on the china. "I have to get to class," he said. He stood, slung his bag over his shoulder and hurried out of the Great Hall. Whispers and stares followed him until he was through the doorway.

***

The Potions test passed by with Harry barely realizing he was even taking it. He went through the motions of crushing his scarabs and cutting his ginger root. His potion was sky blue instead of black, and he spilt some on himself putting his potion into a vial.

Snape sneered as Harry placed his potion on the desk. "Potter, if I administered this potion to someone who had been inflicted with the disease of a nundu, do you think it would save him?"

Harry shrugged and walked back to his cauldron. He took out his wand, and with wave it was spotless.

The bell sounded, and he left with a vacant look in his eyes, lost deep in his thoughts.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked as she jogged up along side him.

He looked over at her, his eyes looking through and beyond her. "Yes, of course I'm fine." His voice was low and dull. "I only have to deal with a homicidal psychopath that murdered my parents uprising with new minions coming to kill me in order to fulfill a prophecy. No sweat, right?"

"No one expects you to do this on your own. You have the Order with you, and don't forget about the D.A. either. They came through last year; they can do it again."

"Last year I gave them broken bones and mental wounds that may never heal. I'm not doing that again." He stared directly into her eyes. "Don't you have to get to Arithmancy?"

"Well, yes, but I can be a little late. I'll explain -"

"No, I don't want you to be late because of me. I can handle getting to my next class on my own; I'm a big boy."

Hermione stopped and watched her friend trudge down the hallway. A plethora of thoughts ran through her mind, bouncing off each other, their whispers overlapping and filling her mind. What was the use of being one of the brightest students in school if she couldn't use her knowledge to help one of her best friends? She'd have a talk with Ron to figure out how to handle Harry.

Where is Ron? She looked around, but couldn't spot him among the huddled masses of people. Maybe he's already at class. She glanced at her watch and decided that she didn't have time to dwell on it. Milling over different plans to help Harry, she hurried along to Arithmancy.

***

He felt her heart beating faintly beneath her breasts as he pressed her against the wall of their secluded hallway, kissing her lips fiercely. He fed on the thrill of being with someone he wasn't supposed to, the risk of getting caught, the sheer taste of her. His lips traveled down her jaw line, down to the nape of her neck, massaging her delicate skin.

She let a soft, low moan escape from her throat as a shudder of delight passed through her. Her finger wound themselves in his hair, loving the texture of his silky locks.

Still kissing her neck, his hands traveled down her body, slowly pulling her shirt out of her skirt. His hands slid along her stomach, tracing the delicious curves they discovered. He moved his hands until they cupped they soft swell of her breasts.

"Wait." She gently pushed him off of her. "We have to talk."

He stopped and looked her in the eye. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know if I can do this anymore." She pulled herself from the tight space between his body and the wall. "All this sneaking around and waking up without you next to me; I need something more than a cold imprint on the bed."

"When we started this we agreed to keep this just between us. We can't let anyone know."

She turned on him with fiery eyes. "Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you want to keep this under the rug? Because if you are -"

"Of course not. It's just... do you know what could happen is people got wind of this?"

"I couldn't care less what people think. It's not their life."

"I don't want you to get hurt. I love you too much to let anything happen to you."

She was silent for a moment. "You love me?"

He walked up to her and took her head in his hands. "Do you think that I would even be here if I didn't care about you? I'm not like that."

"But you're not willing to tell people about us?" Her eyes shone with tears.

"I don't want anything to happen to you. I couldn't-"

She put her fingers to his lips, stopping his words. Tears escaped from her eyes, leaving shining trails on her face. "I love you too, but I can't keep it a secret." She kissed him, leaving him with the salty sweet taste of her sadness lingering on his lips. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and rushed out of the corridor.

He felt his heart snap in two and tears threatened to surface. How stupid can I be? He slid down the wall, his broken heart thundering in his chest, wishing he could run after her. He wanted to hold her and apologize until the sun went black, but that voice in the back of his head told him to stay. No good could come from a relationship like that.

He pressed the back of his head into the cold stone wall. How can love be anything but good?