Harry Potter and the Guardian of Lost Souls

AN: I am soooooo sorry this took so long. The thing is that I don´t post here until my chapter has been posted on gryffindortower.net and there I have to wait until my beta uploads it... she gets kind of busy sometimes...

Again, I´m sorry.

Chapter 5:

Harry stood, shaking in the chill night, at the door of the Burrow, his trunk in hand. The past few hours had been a nightmare. The fear, the worry and the helplessness were driving him mad.

When Harry had read those first three words, his world had come crashing down around him. The seas had flooded the earth and the heavens had toppled down. His legs had turned to jelly, and for a moment he'd been sure history was repeating itself. Then he shook himself and forced his eyes to continue reading what his heart didn't want to see. But there was no comfort for him there.

Harry took a deep breath and tried to stop shivering as he recalled the rest of the letter. It had said that Ginny had been shopping for quills by herself when the attack had taken place. She had apparently been hit repeatedly by the Cruciatus.

Harry's courage had almost failed him when he'd read those words. He remembered only too well the Cruciatus curse. The unbearable pain, like fire coursing through his veins, and his bones breaking simultaneously.

Doggedly he had continued, praying that there would be some words of comfort before the end. But there hadn't been. Ginny had been cursed badly and had been taken to St. Mungo's. She was on the critical list in intensive care.

That was all. No glimmer of hope, no comforting words. Just Mrs. Weasley's request that Harry come to the Burrow,

Harry still wondered about that. He couldn't think of any reason that Mrs. Weasley would ask him to come stay. Wouldn't he just be a bother? But he had packed his things right away and had wished everyone goodbye, with a request that they send Fiddle his regards as well.

Saying goodbye to Lupin and Sirius had been the hardest. He had been so happy at the Full Moon, spending his summer with people he loved, his godfather, care and worry free. These had been people that his parents had known and loved, the closest he would ever get to them.

And Sirius was the closest thing he had to a father. He looked to Sirius as family. Sirius was family. He always would be.

Harry had waved goodbye, and as he stuck out his wand hand to call the Knight Bus, he felt for the first time that he was leaving home. But home was no longer a place to Harry. It was wherever the people he loved and who loved him back were.

Harry had taken the Knight Bus to Ottery St. Catchpole, the village near the Burrow, and had laboriously dragged his trunk for fifteen minutes until he got to the Weasley's. That was where he was now. Afraid to knock on the door and make the whole nightmare become reality.

Harry shivered again. It was around two a.m., but Harry knew someone was in the house waiting for him. Mrs. Weasley had said to come right away.

Gathering his courage, Harry raised his hand and knocked three times on the door. He waited with baited breath for the sound of footsteps from inside the house. Seconds seemed to last hours before he heard them, faint and slow.

A moment later, the door was opened, and framed in the doorway stood none other than Charlie Weasley, one of Ron's older brother's who normally worked with dragons in Romania. Harry wasn't surprised to see him.

"Hey Harry," he said, his voice shaky. Harry took a good look at him and saw that he was very drawn and pale, which made his freckles stand out on his face, and he had bags under his eyes.

"Charlie," Harry replied hoarsely, nodding his head in greeting. But then he got straight to the point and asked the question he badly needed an answer to. "Charlie, how is she?"

He wondered for a moment at the desperation he could hear in his own voice.

Charlie lifted a hand and rubbed his eyes and then ran it through his hair.

"Come inside Harry. It's cold out here," was all he would answer.

Harry followed him into the kitchen, leaving his trunk in the hall. The Burrow had never seemed so cold and empty, he realized with a jolt. It felt unnatural.

Harry sat down at the scrubbed wooden kitchen table as Charlie set some water to boil with a wave of his wand. Harry watched him, and he could feel the tension in the very air he breathed. He also knew that Charlie was avoiding answering his question. He asked again, more desperately than before. "How is she?"

Charlie sighed and stopped taking the coffee out of the cabinet over the sink. He put the jar down and gripped the sides of the counter, and his whole figure seemed to give way to grief and helplessness.

"She's not doing too well, Harry," came Charlie's voice. He turned around, and when Harry looked in his eyes, he saw all of Charlie's pain showing through, and it shocked him, because there was an ocean of it.

Harry's heart sank inside him. "What do the doctors say?" He was afraid of the answer.

Charlie looked away out the window and sighed heavily before replying.

"They don´t know if she's going to make it, Harry." Charlie shook his head, his voice barely more than a whisper. "They just don´t know." He slumped down onto the floor, his

shoulders shaking as he cried silently.

Harry sat in shock, not knowing what he should do. He would never have imagined Charlie being able to cry, but Harry also knew that he had always been very close to Ginny. Harry felt a familiar knot in his throat as well and swallowed.

He got up from the table and went over to where Charlie sat hunched on the floor.

"Come on," Harry told him, as soothingly as he could, reaching down to pull him up, trying to keep his voice steady. Charlie seemed to have lost all willpower and permitted Harry to lead him to the table and sit him down. He sat slumped in his chair, staring at nothing, as Harry went about finishing the task Charlie had begun. He got out two mugs and sugar and made a cup of strong coffee for each of them. He put one in front of Charlie. He didn't touch it or seem to realize it was even there. Harry sat down across from him, warming his chilled hands on the warm mug.

The silence was deafening, and Harry felt the need to comfort Charlie in any way he could.

"I remember in my second year," he began, "the Chamber of Secrets was opened." Charlie looked at Harry, but Harry looked away. He couldn't look into his eyes. They were so full of pain, so unlike him. Harry continued his story.

"Ron and I, we had overheard the teachers talking. They said someone had been taken. Ginny." Here he forced himself to look in Charlie's direction. Charlie nodded. He knew the story.

"All I could think about was getting her out. I didn't even know if she was still..." Harry trailed off as he saw Charlie wince. He took a deep breath. "So Ron and I found the entrance and went down there, but we got separated and I had to go on alone. And the whole time, all I could think about was that I would be too late. And then, when I found her," Harry closed his eyes, the memory vivid in his mind. Ginny's limp figure, her ice cold skin, her freckles standing out shockingly against her pale face. He opened his eyes, determination blazing in them like green fire. "She was barely alive, but she was still there. Charlie," his voice was pleading, "Charlie, she was still there."

Harry looked hard at him, waiting for him to acknowledge and confirm what Harry needed to believe. And then slowly, Charlie nodded, accepting what Harry was trying to tell him. Harry sighed in relief and took a sip from his mug.

A few seconds passed in silence, but not as heavy a silence as before.

"You know," Charlie said suddenly, "I remember when she was six, I was home for the summer from Hogwarts, and Ginny was climbing a tree near the creek and fell out. She broke her leg. Mum was so worried..." Charlie chuckled. "But she really needn't have been. Ginny was back from St. Mungo's an hour later. They'd healed the break, but she still needed to stay off it for a few days."

Harry nodded. He knew the whole process very well...

"Well, the little imp somehow managed to turn it all in her favor. You wouldn't have believed it if you saw it. She had Fred and George running around like mad doing everything she wanted, and even things she didn't really want." Harry laughed. He could imagine it very well. Charlie continued. "She kept moaning and saying how much it hurt, and we all believed her, of course." Charlie's eyes lit up at the memory. "That is, we believed her until Bill walked in on her dancing around her room like a little ballerina when no one else was there."

Harry laughed and so did Charlie. It felt good to laugh, and although Harry was still worried, hearing stories about Ginny helped him feel a little better. He didn't know her that well, but at the same time, felt he knew her completely. It was strange, he'd never really sat down and talked to her or been through all the things he'd been through with Ron and Hermione with her, but he felt close to her in a different sort of way... He couldn't explain it, even to himself. Perhaps it was the fact that Ginny had also been up against Voldemort and had survived. He knew what it was like to live through an encounter with him. It left you with a whole other side that no one else could know about or understand. Sure, Ron and Hermione had gone through a lot of things with him, but they'd never actually faced Voldemort. Only he and Ginny had.

Suddenly he understood why Mrs. Weasley had asked him to come to the Burrow. Ginny was going to need a lot of help getting through this if... Harry shook himself mentally. No, when she recovered. However, Harry knew that the hardest aspect of recovery wouldn´t be the physical part. This had been her second time up against this kind of thing, and though he wasn't positive, he strongly suspected that Ginny wasn't completely over the first time.

He knew he wasn't.

"Charlie?"

Charlie had just put his mug down and was making a face. "Harry, mate, did anyone ever tell you, you make awful coffee?"

"Thank you so much," Harry replied sarcastically, though he privately agreed. He hadn't touched his coffee after the first sip. Charlie carefully pushed his mug away from him, as though it might explode at any given moment.

Harry pretended not to notice. "Charlie," He said again, "I want to go to St. Mungo's."

The tension that had just begun to clear returned full force. Charlie sighed.

"Yeah. I know," he nodded. There was a pause. "Well, that's why mum asked me to wait for you. She knew you'd want to see her. Come on." He gave Harry a feeble smile. "We'll go by Floo."

Harry nodded, too worried about Ginny to even care that they were going by fireplace. He followed Charlie into the living room where Charlie took a small pot from the mantle-piece and handed it over to Harry. He took a pinch of the glittering powder.

Charlie took out his wand, pointed it at the empty grate and muttered "Incendio!" and a second later there was a blazing fire there.

The empty living room was filled with light, casting moving shadows over the room in tune with the roaring flames. Harry stood transfixed for a moment before them, his hand half extended to throw the powder into the flames, but he was suddenly too nervous to go through with it. He didn't know if he really wanted to see Ginny in St. Mungo's. His guilt was kicking in again, and he knew that had he defeated Voldemort, then the attack would never have happened. Ginny wouldn't have been hurt. No one would have been hurt.

Harry shook his head. He had already decided that those thoughts would lead him to nowhere but darkness. He needed to focus on hope, no matter how little of it there seemed to be.

Harry determinedly threw the Floo powder into the flames, which turned bright green and orange. He glanced for a moment at Charlie, a silent reminder of what they had spoken of before, and encouragement that everything was going to be alright, and then Harry stepped into the swirling fire.

"St. Mungo's!" He shouted, and was immediately spinning as quickly as he could go. The spinning made him queasy, but it was nothing near as bad as what his nerves were causing him. He tucked in his elbows and shut his eyes, blocking out the whirling and trying to concentrate on hope.

A moment later, he fell through an open grate into a plain room with white walls and small chairs lined against them. The room smelled like the hospital wing at Hogwarts, a smell that Harry would always associate with sickness and death. He tried not to think about it and he stood aside, waiting for Charlie to come through after him.

He did, a second later, looking as green and nauseated as Harry felt. But he quickly recovered and brushed himself clean of soot and dust. When he was done he lifted his eyes to Harry's and nodded his head towards the door of the small sterile room. Harry followed him out into a long corridor with the same clean white walls. Every few meters was a door leading to one of the hospital rooms, some were open, and when Harry looked in, he could see people sitting around beds occupied by sleeping people, conversing in lowered voices and looking very grim.

At the end of the hallway was a nurses' station, and beyond that was a large staircase leading upwards to the second and third floors. Charlie led him there and Harry looked up to see a sign before it saying "Children's Ward: Second Floor, Psychiatric Ward: Third Floor".

When they reached the second floor, Charlie stopped at the nurse's desk. A nurse in a white robe noticed Charlie standing there and came over to speak to him.

"Hello dear," she said and smiled at him. "Back to see her?"

"Yes," Charlie answered. "Has there been any change?"

The nurse sighed and shook her head sympathetically. "I'm afraid not, love. But only time can tell." She offered the only words of comfort she could.

Charlie nodded grimly. "Thanks," he said and walked off down the hall. Harry followed him until he spotted several redheaded people up ahead that could only be the Weasleys.

As he drew near, there suddenly came a cry from one of the figures, and a moment later, Molly Weasley had Harry gripped in a tight hug.

"Oh, Harry! Harry! I'm so happy you're here!" Mrs. Weasley was crying as she looked up at Harry, and he felt his heart go out to her. She looked a mess, much like he remembered her at the end of his second year. Her face was tear-streaked and her eyes were puffy and red from crying. Her hair was a jamble of red tangles, now tinged with gray, gray he was sure hadn't been there the year before.

Harry looked down at her, as he was now taller than she was, and Mrs. Weasley wiped her eyes and attempted a wavery smile. She sniffed.

"I wanted you to be here, she said after a pause. "I remember how you helped Ginny before. I don't know," here she shrugged her shoulders, a gesture of complete helplessness, and laughed a dry mirthless laugh, "I guess I thought you might be able to save her again." She looked pleadingly at Harry, as though she was really requesting it of him. "It's silly, I know, but a mother, well a mother never gives up, not until the last breath."

Harry was surprised that Mrs. Weasley thought he'd be capable of doing anything when the doctors hadn't been able to, but he also knew exactly what she meant about mothers. His mother hadn't given up either. He nodded and Mrs. Weasley looked at him gratefully.

It was then that Harry noticed that the whole family had been watching this exchange, with somber expressions, including-

"Ron," Harry said softly. His best friend was standing a bit away from the rest of his family, and he looked haunted and crumpled. He looked at Harry with eyes that held nearly nothing. Vacant, as though he still hadn't gotten over the shock. It shocked Harry just to look at him. He'd never seen him look like that, and he suddenly realized how Ron's entire world must be nearly falling apart. He didn't have any brothers or sisters, but he considered Ron closer than any brother he could ever have had. Maybe that was why it hurt him so much to see him like that. All he knew was that in a moment he had crossed to where Ron was standing and had pulled him into a tight hug. Ron was limp against him for a moment, but then seemed to come apart. He shook as Charlie had done earlier, letting everything go. Harry's eyes stung with unshed tears as well.

"Damn, Harry," Ron spoke, his voice choked and thick with tears. "They say she might not make it." There was such anguish in Ron's words that Harry soon felt himself crying as well.

They stood there for a moment, brothers by all standards save blood. But blood wasn't important. To any of them.

~*~

The door creaked slowly open. Harry was terrified of what he was going to find behind it. But a moment later he had entered the room with Ron at his side. They were all taking turns sitting with Ginny so that they wouldn't disturb her.

It was a large room with two beds, but one was left unfilled. In the other one was the small red headed figure Harry had come to know throughout the years. The curtain usually used to block patients from view was pushed off to the side and a small table stood next to the bed with a vase of daisies on it and next to it a long stick of wood, which must be Ginny's wand. The room looked so simple and bleak in contrast to the fiery red that was spread across the pillow beneath Ginny's head. Harry wondered how any place could be so colorless.

Slowly, Harry inched closer, and when he at last came face to face with Ginny, he gasped at the sight of her.

She was as pale as a ghost, and her lips were tinged with purple. Upon closer inspection he could see a bad bruise on her left temple and a cut on her eyebrow. Her breathing was very shallow and labored.

Ron had taken a spot on the other side of Ginny's bed next to the open window through which the chill night air was blowing. He brought his chair as close as he could to Ginny before sitting down and taking her hand in his own.

"Hey Gin," he said in a whisper. "I'm back. And guess who I brought with me?"

Ginny made no reply, but Ron continued as though she had. "It's Harry, Ginny. Harry's here to see you. He came right away when he heard." Ron looked up at Harry from his seat, motioning him to sit down as well and say something.

Harry brought a chair from across the room and pulled it up close to Ginny. He sat in silence for a moment. In the end, "Hey," was all he could think of to say.

"There. You see?" Ron said in a would-be joking sort of voice. "That's Harry. As articulate as ever."

Harry sighed. Well? What did Ron want him to say? He couldn't think of anything himself. The only thoughts that kept passing through his head were memories. Bad memories. He shook his head, searching for anything he could talk about. He settled on his visit with Sirius that summer.

"You know," he began, and Ron looked at him gratefully, "I spent the summer with Snuffles. We had a lot of fun." Ron nodded his approval. Harry continued, "You wouldn't believe the things that went on there. It wasn't just me and Sirius. It was Professor Lupin, and this crazy lady who'd always lived a few blocks away, and I'd always thought was old and mad. She turned out to be an Auror undercover. And Mundungus Fletcher. He likes your dad a lot. Then there were Fiddle who plays this charmed violin and Su-Ling. She gave me an amulet. And Cyril... Would you believe it? He was in Slytherin and actually moved to Gryffindor..."

Harry trailed off, not knowing what else to say. He could talk about his various exploits of the summer, or the Breakfast War, or anything. But it seemed too unreal to sit here talking to a Ginny who couldn't laugh or joke or reply at all. Ginny was so lifeless, it seemed ridiculous to be telling her these things.

Harry looked up at Ron. "I can't do it," he said, pained. "I can't." He swallowed the new lump that had developed in his throat.

Ron sighed. "Look, I know it's hard. But you know, the doctors said that she can probably hear everything we tell her. It doesn't mean she understands it, but it's still good for her to hear friendly voices." Ron paused and looked down at his sister's face again. "Come on Harry. It's for Ginny." Ron wiped a shaking hand across his eyes.

For Ginny. It was all for Ginny. He still remembered the Chamber of Secrets. Hadn't that been much harder than just sitting and talking with her? If he'd almost died saving her last time then he could certainly do a simple thing like talk. He took a deep breath and began.

Half an hour later, Harry had told almost everything he'd been through that summer at Lupin's. He'd begun from the very beginning at the Dursley's and told everything up to the previous day. There he'd stopped. He didn´t want anyone to know about Godric's Hollow just yet. For now, that was still completely his.

If Ginny had benefited from his story at all, then she hadn't been the only one. His spirits had been lifted and Ron had even chuckled at a couple parts of the tale. They both looked better than they had when they'd come in.

Well, Harry did have quite a comical summer.

They both sat in silence now. Ron was still holding Ginny's hand protectively. Harry looked down at Ginny's other hand. It seemed so frail, as though if he touched it, it would come apart. Harry gently lifted his own and moved to pick hers up, curious to see if it was as fragile as it looked. But when his skin came in contact with hers, he felt a small shock go through his body, one that raised goose-bumps all over his arms.

At the same time, Ginny made a small muffling sound, and Harry and Ron both looked at her with a gasp and hope in their eyes. But a moment later Ginny was again silent. It had probably only been something in her dreams, if she was dreaming at all.

Harry sighed in disappointment, Ginny's hand now clasped in his own. Her fingers were icy cold, but Harry couldn't help noticing how her hand seemed to fit so well in his own.

He gave it a small squeeze and then looked at Ron.

"Hey," he said to get his attention. "Your Mum wanted to come in for a bit, remember?"

Ron sighed. "Yeah, I know. I just, don't want to leave her, Harry." Ron shook his head.

"Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?"

Harry looked hard at his best friend, thinking. Did he? Could he actually tell Ron that he knew how he felt? He wondered for a moment. He felt something, deep in his stomach, a dull ache that was only dull because Harry wouldn't let himself give in to it. He'd felt loss and fear before, he knew the terror of being completely helpless to a situation. He knew the grief of having someone you loved taken from you...

He raised his eyes to Ron's questioning gaze and answered with complete sincerity, "Yes. I do."

~*~

Harry knew it was a dream, but that didn't stop him from being afraid. The blackness around him engulfed everything; sound, light, joy... It was pure nothingness. He felt it pressing in on him, unrelentingly. He turned around, feeling a presence behind him, but there was nothing there, only more blackness. But then he once again felt a presence off to his side, and at the same time directly in front of him. Now that he stopped to think about it, he felt a presence all around him. That was the blackness he felt. And whatever was there was evil.

Someone, or something laughed, a laugh that sent a chill up Harry's spine and echoed all around him. He spun wildly, trying to figure out which direction it was coming from. It was no use. Harry stopped and stood still and silent. He closed his eyes and just listened for a minute with all his might, trying to find any hint as to the direction of the sound.

It was there, off to his right. The laughter was coming from there. And sure enough, when he looked, Harry could see far off, a small glimmer, like a doorway leading to a dimly lit chamber. He began to walk in that direction, as quickly as he could, but he never seemed to get any closer. Then, after what seemed an eternity, he came to it at last. It was a small hole, just big enough for him to slide through, and true enough, there was a chamber just beyond it. Harry scrambled through quickly, only to wish he had never tried to reach it in the first place.

He stood in a room he knew well, but one he'd like to forget. Harry gasped in surprise and fear. The Chamber of Secrets. That was the chamber he'd entered. He recalled the towering pillars and the great statue of Salazar Slytherin himself, the statue at the base of which, he had found Ginny little more than two years ago. He shuddered and turned to go back out the portal through which he had come, only to find that it had disappeared. He had no way to escape. None whatsoever.

It was then that he heard the sound of footsteps directly in front of him, but when he looked, there was no one there. Perhaps the chamber was haunted? By the ghost of Tom Riddle...

No. Tom Riddle was history. He had defeated Voldemort's past self once and for all.

The footsteps were drawing near, and they came so close to Harry, that had someone been there, he was sure they'd have been but inches apart. Harry took a deep breath and spoke to the silence.

"Who's there?" He looked at the air in front of him. "Show yourself!"

Whatever was in front of him chuckled softly. Again he heard footsteps, as the entity moved around him to his side.

The next moment Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. "Hello, Harry Potter," the being whispered in his ear. Harry backed away from it.

"What are you?" he asked, panicked.

There was a pause, and then, "A friend. Yes. That is the word," It spoke as though simply the idea was strange to It. "A friend to those who I find worthy. To those of Power."

Harry didn't like this. Whoever had spoken sounded evil. And what he'd said about friends sounded much too familiar. Like Wormtail, he realized with a start.

"Whatever you are," Harry began. "You're not my friend."

Again a soft laugh. "Hmmm..." it mused. "Perhaps you are correct. But still, you are One of Power, am I not mistaken?"

Harry was puzzled. "I don't know what you're talking about," he answered.

The Voice ignored Harry's statement. "But if I am not your ally, then I am your enemy. Trust me when I say to you, Harry Potter, you do not wish me as an enemy." The words were venomous, as though made of poison, and they struck Harry with a force he didn't believe possible.

Gasping he called out again. "Who are you?"

And again the Voice ignored him and went on. "I have been sought out by another of Power, perhaps greater than your own although perhaps not. He is quite worthy of my, ah, 'friendship'." He spoke the word and sarcasm dripped from every syllable. A chuckle, and then It continued. "I had not expected any to seek me out, but he came and he was powerful, oh yes. The Darkness was great in him."

Harry had no idea what this thing was talking about. What did he mean by 'One of Power'? Who was this other person, and why would he want to seek him out? Whoever he was?

"But, Harry Potter, I felt you when he came to me, begging my allegiance. I gave not to him what another, stronger maybe, could possess. And the Darkness is great in you as well."

Harry stood shocked, the words sinking in. Darkness? In him? He didn't understand, and the whole conversation was making him dizzy. He would have laughed, except he suddenly found that the situation wasn't funny at all, because he knew, somehow, that the disembodied voice was speaking the truth. Things were so clear to him, perhaps because of the state he found himself in, so many things suddenly clicked into place. He had long fought it, never letting it surface. Dull, deep inside him, he had always felt it growing, but had never allowed himself to acknowledge it.

His first year, when the Sorting Hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin. The hat had known, it had seen. His repeated victories against Voldemort. He remembered again the whispers of Hogwarts Students as he had passed down the corridors in his second year. Why had the Dark Lord wished him dead to begin with? Was it because he was afraid Harry would grow and take the title for himself? He remembered the thrill he felt each time he stood facing Malfoy, or one of his cronies, wand poised and ready, hatred surging through his every vein, wanting nothing more than to cause pain and hurt. He could speak Parseltongue. His blood had been used to raise Voldemort to power. And then there was the side of him that no one knew. The side that was without hope, left with nothing but fears to feed on, and hate and rage.

Yes, he would have laughed, had he not realized the truth of the Voice's words.

Harry gasped for breath, suddenly not wanting to know who spoke to him, or where he was. All he wanted to do was get away. He had to get away.

"Get away from me!" he suddenly screamed. "Leave me alone! I don't want anything to do with you, whoever you are. You're lying!" He knew that he was the one who was lying, but he didn't care. He just wanted it to stop.

The laughter returned. And then from far away- "Very well, Harry Potter. Very well. But know this. You could have had me as an ally. Remember that when you die..." Harry was then drowned in laughter. It pounded in his ears; it was in the air he breathed. Everything around him was evil laughter, and just when he thought he would be torn apart- blackness.

~*~

Harry slowly opened his eyes to find himself back in the white hallway in the Children's Ward of St. Mungo's. His back was cramped being as he'd fallen asleep in one of the hard chairs just outside Ginny's room. He looked over on his right to find Ron fast asleep in the chair next to him, his legs stretched out before him, assuring that anyone who passed unsuspectingly would most definitely trip and fall.

Harry's heart was beating very fast. He hadn't forgotten what he'd just dreamed. No, the dream was still fresh in his mind as though it had really happened. It wasn't slipping away, like most of his dreams usually did. And everything had seemed so real, the sound of the footsteps resonating from the walls and ceiling. The irrepressible darkness that had engulfed him. But most of all he remembered the words spoken.

"The Darkness is great in you as well."

That was what Harry remembered most clearly, and he was suddenly surrounded with the shame he had felt then. He knew the truth, and it was more than he could bear. He had always known it, but had never wanted to notice what he felt hidden in the most secret parts of his soul. His dream had forced him to see the truth, and though he still didn't know what his dream had meant, he knew with complete clarity that he, Harry Potter, had a Dark side that no one would have ever believed him capable of.

Harry clenched his fists and shut his eyes tightly. He had been able to ignore it up to then, but now that he had fully realized it, he couldn't forget. But he wished he could.

The Sorting Hat should have put him into Slytherin, then. He belonged there, how could he not? No matter what he thought or what anyone told him, they couldn't change the way things were.

Harry made a frustrated strangled noise. Why was this happening to him?

Ron mumbled something next to him and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"What time's it?" he asked groggily. Harry sat up straight and looked at Ron guiltily. For some reason he felt that now that he had realized- this- his... what he had realized, that it would be clear to everyone else as well, and they'd suddenly see what a joke "The Boy Who Lived" was. But Ron simply looked at Harry expectantly, waiting for him to tell him the time.

Harry nervously looked down at his watch. "8:20," he told Ron. They'd slept for five hours, and now that Harry looked, he could see sunlight flooding the far end of the corridor where there was a small window.

"What?!" Ron exclaimed, and stood up quickly, but then sat right back down rubbing his back. "Ow!"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, mine too, Ron. These chairs are horrible."

Ron made a face. "They should at least have the sense to put a good cushioning charm on them!"

Harry shrugged. He felt relieved that Ron didn't notice anything, even though he knew that it was silly he thought he would.

Harry heard footsteps behind him and turned around to see Fred and George coming towards them, each carrying two steaming cups in their hands. Fred and George had also looked panic stricken the day before. Their usually cheery demeanor had disappeared and now as they came closer, Harry figured that neither of them had got any sleep as they looked much the same as they had last night, if not worse. They were missing the usual identical grins that they were known for and the mischievous glint in their eyes was gone. They stopped in front of Harry and Ron.

"Hello," said George. Harry knew it was George from five years of being around the twins. It was very hard to tell them apart, but Fred had broader shoulders and George walked differently. He had more of a bounce in his step.

Fred attempted a smile, but didn't succeed as well as he would have liked. He shrugged his shoulders and handed Harry one of the cups. "Coffee," he explained. "We figured you'd need it." Harry mumbled his thanks as he warmed his hands on the cup. He looked up at George, who was sipping thoughtfully.

"Has there been any change?"

George shook his head in reply. "No," he said. "But I think the doctors are pleased that she's made it this far." He cleared his throat and tried to sound pleased as well but he couldn't disguise the plain fear that Harry heard in his voice.

They all drank in silence, finding that words were no comfort.

~*~

"You know Ginny, I was thinking about a few things the other day," Harry said that afternoon to an unconscious Ginny. Ron had gone out for a breath of fresh air with Hermione, who had arrived a few hours earlier, so Harry was alone with her for a while. He had been telling her various stories that he made up on the spot and that had no point at all. But he had run out of ideas and felt that he couldn't just sit and be silent. He was tired of being silent because silence left too much space for thought, and he had too many things that he didn't want to think about just then.

"I never really had a real family, or a real home for that matter. Except Hogwarts, but that's not the same. I never had anyone until I met your family." Harry moved his fingers up and down Ginny's arm, not even realizing he was doing it. "You all made me feel that I was, I don't know, better than I was. People had never cared about me the way your Mum did, or Ron." Harry paused, wondering if he should continue. He steeled himself and did. "Or you," he sighed.

"I´ve always wondered why you do. I mean, I'm not so great as everyone says I am, trust me." Harry remembered his dream and cursed himself mentally for somehow managing to talk himself into a subject that he was trying to avoid thinking about. "Sometimes I wish no one cared. It would be better for them if they didn't. All I ever cause anyone is trouble."

Harry looked at Ginny's face, hoping to see some sign that she was coming to. She was still as pale as ever, but at least her lips had lost the blue tinge that had been there. "I don't deserve anyone's love. You'd know that if you really knew me." Harry hung his head, letting go of Ginny's arm and crossing his own in front of him. He breathed deeply for a few moments, trying to steady his racing heart. He was telling Ginny things he'd never said to anyone before, and so doing, making them known to himself as well. Half of his words were a surprise to him.

Harry continued speaking. "There are some things about me that no one would ever believe. Ever. And I'm so afraid that someday, everyone is going to find out."

"Sometimes I wonder if you might understand a bit of what I'm talking about. It's that feeling that you get in the pit of your stomach when you're sure you're about to die, and then when you realize you've lived through it, you wonder if you should have and how scared it makes you. I've gone through that so many times that it's stayed with me. I'm always so scared, but what frightens me even more is that I know what's coming and I can't stop it. It's not knowing that gets to me, and wondering if this time, someone I love is going to get hurt," Harry paused, "The way Cedric got hurt."

There was silence, and then Ginny sighed.

Harry looked up, completely forgetting about everything he had just been saying and grabbed her hand.

"Ginny? Ginny!" He looked at her expectantly, waiting for anything. A fluttering of eyelashes, a movement, an intake of breath. And then, unmistakably, Harry felt the light pressure of Ginny's hand lightly squeezing his own. Harry gasped as his heartbeat quickened. She had moved, she had heard him. She was going to be okay!

He quickly got up from his chair and ran out to the hallway. The whole Weasley family, including Ron and Hermione, looked up at him, alarmed.

"She sighed," he said. "I was talking to her and when I finished she sighed, as if she'd heard everything. And then she moved! She squeezed my hand!" Mrs. Weasley covered her mouth in surprise and her eyes filled with tears. Fred and George stood up quickly from where they'd been sitting, Charlie's eyes glittered with hope, Bill looked eagerly at the doorway, Percy straightened up in his chair, Hermione hugged Ron, who seemed dazed by Harry's words and Mr. Weasley rushed up to Mrs. Weasley and took her hand tightly in his own.

"My baby," Mrs. Weasley said quietly and then sprang into action. "Percy, go get the doctors." Percy nodded, got up and then ran down the hallway, ministry robes billowing out behind him, all dignity forgotten. Mrs. Weasley turned to Bill. "Bill, dear, if you could please run home and get us all a change of clothes, we could all freshen up a bit. Heaven knows we're exhausted and must look a wreck. I don't want Ginny to see us looking like we do." Bill nodded somewhat reluctantly. He didn't want to go. "Please Bill," Mrs. Weasley pleaded. Bill sighed, gave Charlie a quick look and disapparated. Mrs. Weasley sighed as well. "All right, let's go in." She bustled quickly to the door of the room and rushed inside. Everyone followed her, Harry and Ron going in last.

"Ron, what was that all about with Bill and Charlie?" Harry asked.

Ron sighed. "Charlie wouldn't have gone. He hasn't left the hospital since he got here with you. And he hasn't left the nurses or doctors alone the whole time. The thing is, Charlie feels a lot worse about what happened than anyone else, I imagine."

Harry was confused. "What? Why?"

Ron looked at Harry appraisingly. "Didn't Charlie tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Ron looked at the floor for a moment before answering. "Charlie feels like it's his fault that Ginny's hurt."

Harry looked over in Charlie's direction. The short and stocky red-head was leaning against the wall a bit away from everyone else watching Ginny with a very worried look on his face. His eyes glistened with tears and he suddenly looked away as though the sight pained him.

"Why?" Harry turned back to Ron who shook his head.

"We've all told him that it's ridiculous and that there's nothing he could have done, but he won't listen." Ron looked over at his older brother with concern. "Charlie was on holiday for a bit and was visiting home. He needed a few things so he came with us to Diagon Alley. Ginny needed a couple of things from the same store Charlie did, so they went off together." Here Ron paused. Harry had already figured out what had happened. When Ron continued, his voice was low and pained. "He was with her when it happened. They walked out of the shop straight into the middle of it. Charlie ducked and tried to pull Ginny down, but she was so scared." Ron's voice cracked and he closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. "She was so scared that she couldn't move. That was when she was hit. I can't imagine what she went through, but Charlie was there right next to her. He hasn't gone into details but you've told me what Cruciatus is like. And there was nothing he could have done. He tried to curse the Death Eater-" Ron said the phrase with venom, "But he ducked and cursed Ginny again." Ron swallowed.

Harry could picture it all in his mind. If he knew Charlie then he knew he would have tried everything he could to save her, including jumping in front of any curses aimed at his sister, but in all the chaos, he probably hadn't been able to get his bearings. Harry looked at Charlie again, now understanding more than ever why he'd been in such a state when he got to the Burrow.

The Burrow. "Ron?" Harry asked his best friend.

"Yeah?" Ron said.

"If Charlie wouldn't have gone now, why did he come get me from your house? He must have been waiting for me for a couple of hours at least."

Ron gave a small grin. "Well, he's trying to do everything he can to help her. He, like Mum, figured you'd be part of it. Personally, I actually agree with them."

"Huh?" Harry looked at his friend as though he'd sprouted an extra head. He sighed in exasperation. "Ron, I don't know why you're all so sure that I could help. It's ridiculous. What could I possibly do?"

Ron suddenly looked much more serious. "Look, Harry, I don't know if you've noticed but my sister has liked you from the moment she saw you. But really liked you. You don't live with her, so you don't know what it's like. Harry, I've always been closest to her, she's like my best friend, and I can usually tell things about her that nobody else knows. I'm not sure she'd appreciate me telling you this, Harry, but the truth is, what she feels about you, well, it goes much deeper than anyone else thinks it does."

Harry's heart was racing, though he didn't know why. Slowly he asked, "What do you mean, Ron?"

Ron ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up all over. "I don't know exactly, I just know that she likes you for a lot more than just being 'famous Harry Potter'". Harry winced at the title. Ron ignored him and continued. "I really think that your just being here might have helped her more than anything the doctors are doing. You do something to her, Harry." Ron looked Harry straight in the eye. "Believe me, she felt you the moment you walked through the door last night."

Harry looked away from Ron's gaze over at Ginny's bed. The whole Weasley family was crowded around her looking eagerly for any movement. He suddenly felt that he had to sit down. He couldn't take any of this anymore. It was too much in too short a time. He'd never known Ron to speak so openly about things and he couldn't believe the things he'd told him. He'd always known about Ginny's crush. Inside, he'd begun to suspect though that there was more to it than that. Ron's words confirmed that. What scared him, however, were the unexpected feelings that came along with the confirmation. His heart was beating wildly and he felt excited and happy and scared and nervous all at the same time. But he didn't want to feel that way. He didn't! He tried to push it all away. He couldn't like Ginny Weasley. He wouldn't allow himself to. It would just be bad for her. She shouldn't like him to begin with. And why now? Why did he suddenly feel this way if he hadn't for four years?

"Harry? What's wrong?" Mrs. Weasley's voice penetrated his thoughts.

"What?" He looked up, startled.

"You suddenly went all pale dear. You look like you're about to collapse."

Harry tried to compose himself. "It's nothing. I just, uh, don't feel so good." Ron was still looking at him piercingly. "How's Ginny?

Mrs. Weasley looked over her shoulder at her daughter. "I don't know, Percy still hasn't come back with the doctor." The words had barely been uttered when Percy walked through the door with a tall, black-haired, bespectacled woman in a long, formal white robe whom Harry assumed was the doctor. A hush fell over the room and nine sets of eyes turned in her direction.

The doctor pursed her lips disapprovingly at the number of people in the room, but apparently decided to overlook it because of the eagerness that filled each face. She took out a magical clipboard with a scroll of parchment and a quill. "Mrs. Weasley?" She asked. Molly Weasley stepped forward nervously. "Yes, Dr. Farrow?" Dr. Farrow took a deep breath. "I know that you are all nervous about the situation. This time I'll make an exception, however I must request that only three people at most be allowed in the room at a time in the future. All right?" Mrs. Weasley nodded and sighed.

"Very well." Dr. Farrow smiled. "Let's see how Ginny is doing, shall we?" Everyone moved away from the bed quickly and the doctor stepped forward, pulling her wand from a pocket in her robe. As everyone watched on with bated breath, she prodded and poked, here and there, listening to Ginny's heartbeat and breathing, checking her pulse and muttering a few spells that Harry didn't know. She scribbled a few notes on her scroll and then turned to face the rest of the people in the room.

Harry held his breath, as must have all the others because the room became so still that a pin drop would have resounded loudly through the silence. Dr. Farrow looked a bit affronted for a moment. Harry understood. Had he been facing seven redheaded, hot-tempered Weasleys, all looking at him like that, he would have felt at least a bit daunted. But Dr. Farrow quickly pulled herself together and smiled. "I'm glad to tell you, that I believe Ginny is going to be fine. She's out of danger and should wake up soon."

Mrs. Weasley gave a cry of relief and proceeded to sob into Mr. Weasley's shoulder, who looked incredibly relieved. The twins let out whoops and Ron sighed audibly. Harry himself didn't know quite what he felt. Relief was the first thing he noticed, followed quickly by a sudden urge to fling himself at Ginny and hold her tightly so that she'd never be hurt again. He restrained himself, however and contented himself with a mile wide grin. But out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Charlie slip quietly out the door into the hallway. He had a feeling he should follow him. Harry was loath to leave Ginny's side now that he knew she was going to be ok and that she might wake up any time, but he knew that her parents would want to sit with her now anyway.

He followed Charlie out the door, ignoring the puzzled look Ron sent in his direction as Dr. Farrow was lecturing Fred and George for talking about setting off a few Fillibuster Fireworks when Ginny was awake. She was saying that Ginny still needed plenty of rest and that she would be very weak for quite a while. The twins were rolling their eyes every time she turned her back on them to speak to someone else.

Once out in the hallway, Harry looked around for Charlie. He spotted him near the nurses' station at the far end and ran towards him. "Charlie!" he called, "Charlie!"

Charlie turned his head towards the shout and when he saw who it was, sighed. Harry reached him quickly and stood for a moment looking at him. Charlie looked relieved but possibly even more nervous than he had before. "What's wrong?" Harry asked him. "Why did you leave? Ginny's going to be all right!"

Charlie looked down at his hands. He took a moment in answering, as though afraid of letting his thoughts be known. "I can't Harry," he said simply, and when he looked up, Harry saw that his eyes were filled with tears.

"Can't what?" Harry asked gently, although he thought he already knew. If Charlie was feeling guilty, well, Harry had had enough experience with guilt to know what he was going through.

Charlie was trying as hard as he could not to cry. "I can't see her. I mean, I'm glad that she's going to be alright, but the thing is, I know it's not any thanks to me that she is. I couldn't do anything, Harry," Charlie said in desperation, "All I could do was stand and watch, while she, while they-" Charlie took a deep steadying breath and continued. "I could hear her screaming, and I couldn't stop it. I couldn't save her." Charlie leaned back against the wall and brought his hands to his face. "When it was all over," he said, "I looked around, and there she was, on the floor, as pale as death itself." Charlie swallowed. "And I thought, 'That´s it, Ginny's dead! And I just let it happen.' That was when I saw she was still breathing, but I swear, in those few seconds before, I knew exactly what it would feel like to lose somebody I loved, and now I'm so afraid that it'll happen for real, that I can barely take it." Harry watched Charlie struggling, and knew exactly what he was talking about. Charlie paused. When he continued, his voice was barely higher than a whisper. "So that's why I can't, Harry. I can't face her, knowing that I could have stopped it somehow and didn't, and knowing that if we had all lost her, it would have been my fault."

Harry stood against the wall next to Charlie, sticking his hands in his pockets. He leaned his head back, thinking. He knew what Charlie felt, it was almost exactly how he felt about what had happened to Cedric. Only, when he looked at Charlie's situation, he realized that Charlie had no reason to feel guilty. He really couldn't have done anything about the situation. He couldn't have stopped the Death Eaters from apparating to where they did, or known that one of them would single out Ginny as a target. He couldn't have known that there would be so much chaos that he'd be able to do nearly nothing at all, or that Ginny would be badly hurt because they walked out of the store when they did.

Could the same go for what had happened with Cedric?

"Charlie, it wasn't your fault that Ginny was hurt," Harry said. Charlie snorted in disbelief. Harry stood up and faced the older Weasley. "No, listen to me!" Something in Harry's voice must have got Charlie's attention because he looked at Harry seriously and was silent. Harry took a deep breath. "It wasn't your fault with Ginny. You couldn't have known that any of those things were going to happen, and trust me, I've been in enough of these situations to know that there really was nothing you could do. Nothing, Charlie. There was probably too much of a mess for either of you to get a clear picture of what was going on and by the time you did, it was over, right?" Charlie paused before nodding reluctantly. "Right," Harry said again, though this time more to himself than to Charlie. There was nothing Charlie could have done. The situation had been out of his hands. "Just like Cedric." He sighed softly to himself and leaned back against the wall. That was when he realized he'd said the last few words out loud. He glanced up quickly to find Charlie looking at him with understanding in his eyes. And something else. Respect? He let out a deep breath, as though he'd been holding it since Ginny had been hurt. "Yeah," he said after a moment, and the despair was gone from his voice, "Just like Cedric."