Forest Duet

Forest Duet

Harry walked as fast as he could, trying to put as much distance between him and the Burrow as possible. Normally, he would be happy to see the sight of the tall, wooden, misshapen home of the Weasleys, but after spending the last several days there, the smallest part of him wished for the long summer days with the Dursleys. That thought made Harry instantly sick to his stomach, and he focused more on getting to the thicket of woods a short way in front of him.

"If I only I could find some place to escape to," he thought darkly, his trainers getting slowly wetter from the abundance of dew on the grass. "If only Sirius was..." he started to think, but stopped himself in the middle. Another thought to make him sick to his stomach. He tried thinking about Quidditch as he trampled the sticks blocking his path. He heard the small stream that had become his only refuge and turned slightly to his left, following the path that he had recently made. The water flowed faster and louder than normal, no doubt from the rains that fell during the night. Harry walked past the rock that he had rested on the last few days and followed the stream farther on. A few rays of sunlight broke through the trees in front of him, and he sat on a small patch of grass among them, not caring about the dampness he felt through his jeans.

He put his head in his hands and tried to make sense of everything. The words spoken to him by Professor Dumbledore after the events at the Department of Mysteries still rang in his ear every time he had a free thought. He was looking forward to getting to the Burrow and talking with Ron and Hermione about it, perhaps even talking with Mr. Weasley, but the entire Weasley household had been brimming with tension, even before sitting at the breakfast table that morning.

Mrs. Weasley had finally found out where the money for Fred and George's joke shop had come from, and she yelled at Harry for several minutes before calming down and apologizing. She was more upset with the twins for leaving school than Harry for helping them with money, but afterwards Harry stayed away from the subject, and Mrs. Weasley, as much as possible.

Percy's absence was still much larger than his presence. Even though the Ministry of Magic had acknowledged Lord Voldemort's return, Percy couldn't forgive his parents for their conflict, although he was as much to blame. He still tried to communicate with Ron and Ginny, but only Ginny ever responded to him. The family rarely spoke his name, but when someone did, silence ended any on going conversations.

Ron and Hermione, who Harry had always depended on, seemed to be arguing more than ever before, and at the end of every row, Hermione stormed away muttering, "Boys," and looked for Ginny. Ron would mutter to himself as well, things like, "Can't understand them," or "How will I ever..." and head off to his room. There hadn't been any mornings filled with gnome hunting or Quidditch practice on the lawn. Hermione and Ginny spent most of their time together talking in Ginny's room. Ron stayed upstairs trying to fuss with his hair, and the twins experimented with new items for their shop in the old tool shed. Mrs. Weasley tried to return to normality by going through her daily routine, but her eyes constantly checked her magical clock to make sure that everyone was safe. Mr. Weasley not only worked his regular hours at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department, but also did a lot for the Order, and more than his fair share, according to Mrs. Weasley.

That was what started the arguing at the breakfast table.

"Arthur, I wish that you would get home at a decent hour. You'll... wake everyone in the house," she complained, but obviously wanting to say something else.

"Molly, you know that I would, but there's been a lot of activity lately," he replied. At this, everyone looked and started, but he continued quickly, "and someone needs to be at the Ministry to find out everything. It's a long trip to the Ministry from here."

Mrs. Weasley responded, "Remus said it was a good idea for us all to get away, especially the kids. 12 Grimmauld Place isn't the best place to relax, especially for..." and she turned towards Harry for a split second, before turning back to Mr. Weasley."

Mr. Weasley, about to open his mouth, heard a whooshing sound, and saw that George had turned a bright shade of blue, then red, then yellow. Fred was laughing hysterically, along with Ron. Harry was about to laugh too, but suddenly Mrs. Weasley jumped out of her chair. Pointing a finger alternately from George to Fred and back (every time she did so, George would change color), she yelled, "I KNOW I CAN'T STOP YOU FROM RUNNING THAT SHOP OF YOURS, BUT IF YOU KEEP BRINGING THOSE BLOODY TREATS IN THIS HOUSE, YOU WON'T BE ALLOWED BACK!" She shook all over, her breathing shallow. The smiles disappeared from Fred, George, and Ron. Fred started to speak, but Mrs. Weasley stopped him with a gesture and walked away from the table. Mr. Weasley looked down, paused briefly, and then resumed eating.

Hermione, silent until then, spoke up. "I can't believe you encourage them Ron. You know how your mum feels about the joke shop," she chastised, with a very stern look on her face.

Ron looked incredulous. "Me?" he replied, apparently scandalized. "I'm not the one making the stuff and then putting it in my food. You always want to take away our fun, don't you? Why do you care what they do? They're not testing those things on you, are they?" He moved towards the table as though challenging her. Hermione didn't flinch.

"Ron, you just don't get it, do you. Boys!" she retorted, getting up and walking to the stairs with Crookshanks. Ron's body, so rigid a moment before, had relaxed, his eyes staring at the table.

"What did I do?" he asked to no one in particular. Several minutes of silence followed with all at the table looking at their food, playing with their forks, though not eating a bite. Only when George turned yellow with blue polka dots and Fred started laughing again did anyone speak, and it was the last person Harry expected. Ginny.

"Oh, STOP IT!" she roared at Fred and George, who, for the second time in several minutes, were struck dumb with shock. "YOU DON'T CARE, DO YOU? ALL YOU DO IS WORK DAY AND NIGHT ON YOUR STUPID JOKE STUFF AND NEVER GIVE ONE MOMENT TO ANYONE ELSE!" Ron made some sort of noise, and Ginny whirled on him next. "AND YOU, RON, YOU JUST DON'T LISTEN AT ALL. YOU DON'T SEE PAST THE END OF YOUR NOSE." Ron unconsciously touched his nose, trying to understand what Ginny meant. Mr. Weasley had put his knife and fork down, looking completely ill, although he didn't move. His eyes were fixed on Ginny. There was a moment of silence, and Harry though Ginny was finished, but he was soon on the end of a finger pointing at him.

"YOU'RE THE WORST OF ALL, HARRY. YOU STARTED ALL OF THIS; YOU BROUGHT ALL OF THIS ON US. YOU WALK AROUND FRETTING ALL DAY LIKE THE WHOLE WORLD IS ON YOUR SHOULDERS. DON'T YOU THINK ANYONE ELSE SUFFERS AT ALL? DON'T YOU WORRY ABOUT ANYONE OTHER THAN POOR HARRY POTTER?" She stopped, although her mouth quivered as though ready to yell more. Harry felt extreme pain in his stomach and wished that the ground would swallow him. No one at the table moved or spoke. Ginny stared at Harry with a dark fire in her eyes that he had never seen before. She had always seemed upbeat and outspoken. To Harry, she was the most grounded of the Weasleys, the one who could take anything and still be strong. He admired her for that, although he had never told her as much. That she thought he had caused everything bad that had happened to them, although somewhat true, was a complete shock to him. He tried to think of words to defend himself, but none came, and he felt if he tried to talk, he'd be ill. Ginny finally lowered her finger, and with tears starting to show, she ran outside.

Harry looked towards Ron, but Ron wasn't looking back. He looked at Mr. Weasley, Fred and George in turn, but none of them returned his gaze. Harry understood then. They all blamed him. He was responsible for Lord Voldemort, the Death Eaters, Cedric Diggory's death, and Percy's absence. If he went away, everything else would be as it should be.

Staring at the flowing water, a long way away from the Burrow, Harry decided that he didn't want to be the "Boy Who Lived" anymore. He just wanted to be Harry Potter, sixteen year old. Harry Potter, student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry Potter, normal kid.

But none of that was possible. He instinctively rubbed his scar, but then pulled his hand away, disgusted. That scar. He picked up a stone and threw it into the woods, hoping that his pain would leave with it. Instead, he saw something move a short distance away. It was red, and only partially visible among the trees. When Harry squinted, trying to get a better look, he saw the red move again and a head come into view, staring at him. Ginny.

She started to move away quickly, going deeper into the woods. Harry hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to follow her, but his legs decided for him, and he ran headstrong through the branches, calling out to her. Either she didn't hear him or she chose to ignore him, because she kept running for several minutes. Harry ran out of steam just as Ginny stopped; both of them out of breath.

Harry slowly walked towards her, not knowing what to say or do. She had just accused him of causing all her family's problems, something he had never considered before, but feared now that he had caused everything.

She faced away from him as he approached, and when he came within arms reach, he raised his hand. He didn't know what to do with his hand though. Some gesture, some simple touch, he thought, just to show her that I'm not a monster.

Before Harry could decide what to do, Ginny turned towards him with her eyes shining wildly. A look of sheer anger twisted her eyes and lips. A ray of sunlight shined through the leaves and highlighted the damp stains on her cheeks. She opened her mouth as though to scream, but instead her demeanor instantly changed. She went from complete anger to complete despair, her eyes dropping, her body starting to sag. She swooned, and Harry instinctively moved to her with outstretched arms. As he encircled her, she gave an exhausted sigh, burying her face in his shirt, and started bawling. Her muffled voice blended with the sounds of the forest; he only heard snippets of what she mumbled.

"Harry... don't know why... not your fault... Lord V...V...V... Percy... Ron and Hermione... hands... Mum... Dad... too much... run...run..." she babbled between sobs. Harry, confused and unsure of what to do, just held Ginny tightly. His eyes closed, trying to will her some semblance of calm.

The last time Harry had seen Ginny in a vulnerable state, she laid unmoving in the Chamber of Secrets, almost no life left in her tiny body. This time, he could feel her shaking, hear her sobbing, and see her hair cascade over her shoulders. For a person that he had spent a good deal of time with over the last several years, he didn't know her very well. He knew Ginny to be an outspoken, funny, clever girl, always smiling and always ready to back him up. Beyond that, he had never much talked with her, preferring to speak about important things with Ron and Hermione. The thought occurred to Harry that it was this preference to Ron and Hermione, two very important people to Ginny, that was to blame for her outburst.

Slowly but perceptibly, Ginny calmed. Harry wondered what to do next. Should he let go of Ginny? Should he try to say something? Should he turn and walk away? His instincts served him better in magical situations than emotional ones.

Ginny made the first move by gently pulling away from him. He thought that she might move completely out of his grasp, but she didn't. She only shifted enough to be able to look at him. His hands moved from her back to the upper part of her arms. As uncomfortable and embarrassed as he felt, Harry focused on Ginny's eyes, searching for an answer. Her eyes, full of tears, shined brightly in the rays of the sun. There shone a strength in them, a fierce type of strength, despite her tears. It amazed Harry to realize that he was finally learning about Ginny five years after meeting her, and that she held something inside her that seemed to fill him with warmth.

All of these thoughts rushed through Harry's head, while the sounds of the forest surrounded them. So lost was Harry that when Ginny spoke, he jumped a little bit.

"Harry, I'm so sorry for that tantrum earlier. I'm really... embarrassed," she said in a cracking voice, and looked away.

"It's ok, Ginny," Harry responded. "I feel the same things sometimes, that all of you would be better off if I had just stayed with the Dursleys years ago and never gone to Hogwarts." Ginny turned her head back towards Harry. His hands were still clutching her arms.

"Don't think like that. You can't help that you're connected with Voldemort. You can't help that major things happen to you all the time. I just wish..."

"What? Ginny?"

"I wish that you would talk to me about it. I know how close you are to Ron and Hermione, but I hate having to hear things from them, and even then I don't get the whole story," she said half-angrily, and broke away from Harry. She walked a few steps away from him toward a large oak tree. She gave it a frustrated kick, and then wheeled towards Harry. He could feel the anger emanating from her. For some reason, he wasn't completely put off by it. Instead, he wanted, needed, to hear what Ginny was going to say.

"You three act like I'm a little girl; like I can't deal with what's happening and going to happen. Mum and Dad are the same way," Ginny continued. "Harry, you, of all people, should remember that I know what it's like to be taken by Voldemort, used by him, mistreated by him, left for dead by him. You have to remember that I... I... know what it's like. Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, Mum, they don't know. But you do, Harry. You've encountered Voldemort. That's why I'm so ANGRY. You haven't talked to me about any of it, not in the three years since it happened." The fierce shine had returned to her eyes, and, to Harry, she looked as though she wanted to challenge him. Harry's mind worked like lightning, but he couldn't come up with a reason for not talking to Ginny about what happened in the Chamber of Secrets or any of the other events that had occurred while they were at Hogwarts. He did have one explanation, but it wasn't one he had wanted to share, until now.

"It's not that I didn't want to talk to you, Ginny. I did, I still do." Ginny's fierce look evaporated and changed to surprise. "I don't like to share all these things with other people because I don't want to think about them myself." Harry instinctively touched his scar. He saw Ginny start to raise her hand, but she stopped and returned it to her side. "I don't want to burden anyone else with this..." He couldn't find the right word to describe his burden, "I just..."

"Just what, Harry?" Ginny asked quietly.

"I just want you to be happy, Ginny, and not worry about Voldemort or Death Eaters or Dementors anymore," Harry replied, and turned away. He took one step back towards the entrance to the thicket.

"Harry, wait," Ginny said behind him. He felt a soft hand hold his arm. "Please don't go." Harry stopped and turned. Ginny held his arm, her index finger moving ever so slightly across his skin. Something in her touch made his body tingle. There was a strange comfort in it, along with the calmness now in Ginny's eyes. Harry instinctively moved his arm so that Ginny's hand rested in his. He struggled to look at her. Suddenly he felt very self-conscious of his hand, his face, his whole body. His heart seemed to be everywhere at the same time.

Harry felt a desire to make everything evil go away, the evil that perverted the quiet glade making Ginny angry, Harry defensive, and both of them confused. Ginny's hand held his more tightly as the minutes passed in silence. All the angry and painful words that had been spoken over the past few moments hung heavily in the air, filled with the echoes of Harry's recent past. He wanted it all to just go away so he could just be alone, quite and comfortable, with Ginny.

Harry thought to himself as they walked hand in hand around the forest. He walked slowly with a person who he cared for deeply, but in a vague way without any particular connection. Now, feeling her skin, hearing her breath so close to him, that vague connection had transformed into something strong, supportive and meaningful. He didn't want to give it up, or let it succumb to the war that was coming which would no doubt change things for everyone.

Harry tried desperately to savor those moments with Ginny as they walked. When the sun began to set they slowly walked towards the Burrow and eventually heard sounds of other Weasleys calling their names. They released each other's hands when the first shock of red hair came into sight and took one meaningful look at each other. In Ginny's eyes at that moment, Harry saw more than he had heard all afternoon - a warm, comforting look and a small smile. It was enough to hold back his fear of the darkness of night enveloping the horizon, at least until morning.