Storm Clouds

What's A Girl To Do?

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"GUINEVERE WEASLEY!!!!!!!"

Ginny's eyes snapped open in response to the shout that reverberated throughout The Burrow. Joy, she thought to herself. Mum's managed to turn herself into a walking Howler. She swung her legs off the bed and rose to her feet. It had not been a good night.

Weeks had passed since she had last been assaulted by the old nightmare. As ever it had been a tangle of images; snakes, roosters, blood-stained walls. It only solidified when Tom Riddle emerged from the diary. Normally that was the moment of extreme horror that jerked her from sleep, drenched in sweat, heart beating fast enough to fly out of her chest. Last night, however, had been different.

Last night had been full of images that did not come from her own memories. She had seen the basilisk emerge from the statue's mouth. She had watched as a phoenix (who's name she somehow knew was Fawkes) had battled with the snake, incapacitating it just enough. She had almost choked with terror and a dreadful feeling of being trapped with no where to run. She had felt the cold, solid metal of a sword's hilt against her palm, and a searing pain in the crook of her elbow just as. . .

She had woken up to the dim, gray light of dawn filtering through her window. A quick glance toward the other bed had shown Hermione, still sleeping soundly. Ginny had breathed a sigh of relief and fell back against her pillow, grateful that this time, at least, there had been no witnesses.

Snapping back to the present she grabbed her watch from where it lay on the nightstand. Both hands where pointing directly at You are in big trouble, young lady!, so she hastened to grab some clothes and ran into the bathroom, stopping only long enough to call a hurried apology to her mother.

"Honestly," Molly Weasley breathed, descending the stairs back to the kitchen. "That girl. . ."

"Molly. . ." he husband began.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, but I just don't know what to do with her. She's far too headstrong for her age."

"Just like her mother," Arthur Weasley said with a grin.

Mrs. Weasley cast a sidelong glance his way. "That is beside the point. I hate to think of the trouble she may get into. And I don't seem to be the person to give her any guidance! She. . ." Her tirade against Ginny came to an abrupt halt. "Good morning, boys!" she chirped as Fred, George, Ron and Harry came in and seated themselves for breakfast. She immediately started heaping food on their plates, studiously ignoring their protests.

"Where's Hermione and Ginny?" Ron managed to ask around a mouthful of steak.

"I'm here!" Hermione's voiced called out as she clattered down the last of the steps. "And I'm starving!"

A soft in the room heralded the arrival of the eldest Weasley sibling currently living at the Burrow.

Harry leaned closer to Fred. "I see he's still at it," he whispered with a nod at Percy. "I suppose when you can Apparate stairs become unnecessary."

Fred all but choked on his eggs as he fought not to laugh. He glanced at Harry, who was grinning broadly, then rolled his eyes toward Percy. "Luckily, he's moving out next month. He's gotten himself a flat in Dagon Alley."

"GINNY!!!!"

"OW! Honestly, Mum! I'm right here!"

Every head in the kitchen snapped toward the irritated voice. Ginny stood in the doorway, hurriedly tucking her shirt into her jeans. Her hair was still wet from the shower, stray bits clinging to her neck as she tossed the weight of it back from her face. Oblivious to the attention bestowed on her she crossed the room and slid into the only remaining seat, beside Harry. She glared at Fred and George, knowing that they had managed this little stunt.

Harry appeared unruffled as he passed Ginny the toast. She grabbed two pieces and started looking about for the butter dish. A smothered chuckle to her right raised a flush on her cheeks. She jabbed George in the ribs with her knife. "Hand it over, you!"

He pulled the dish out from where he had hidden it and placed it beside his sister, annoyingly close to her elbow. Ginny knew what he was expecting, and she refused to give him the satisfaction. After laving butter on both slices of toast she carefully, and with great deliberation, lifted the dish and deposited what was left in George's lap.

Harry burst out laughing as George leapt to his feet, trying to remove the greasy mess from his pants. He looked across the table and noticed that Hermione was grinning as well.

"Serves you right," Ginny said.

"Amen," Harry and Hermione chorused.

Mr. Weasley casually cast a cleaning charm at his son, and the mess disappeared. George resumed his seat, but not without looking slightly abashed. "Point to you, little sister," he said. Then his face hardened and a manic gleam entered his eyes. "Enjoy it while it lasts."

Ginny glared right back. "I'm so scared, George." He head snapped around to where Fred sat on Harry's other side. "You two had best start watching each other's backs," she said in a low tone. "Remember, I learned from the best." And with those words she applied herself to her breakfast, inhaling her food at a rate comparable to any of her brothers.

Harry, seated beside her, had suddenly lost all interest in food. When Ginny had turned her furious stare on Fred, he had gotten his first good look at her face that morning. Her eyes were red-rimmed and surrounded by dark circles. The skin around her mouth was pale and drawn, almost paper-thin. But worst of all was the shadow that he could see in her deep, caramel coloured eyes.

It was the same shadow he knew was in his.

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A flash of emerald fire, a swirl of soot and Harry came to a stop in the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace. Mr. Weasley reached out and pulled him clear, just in time. The flames rose again, and Ron materialized, a fine layer of ash dusting his hair.

"Ginny's coming," he said as his father helped him. "She said she had to get something from her room."

"Your mother, the twins and Hermione have gone on to Gringotts. Molly will start to worry if we aren't there soon."

The flames leapt and glowed green. With a faint Ginny appeared. She was slightly off-balance from the dizzying effect of the Floo Powder and she fell forward into the nearest outstretched arms.

They happened to belong to Harry. He caught her and held her for a moment, his hands tangled in the thick wool of her Hogwarts cloak. She shook her head to clear the fog. She had gathered her hair into a ponytail, but its ends struck Harry's face. It smelled faintly of cinnamon.

She stood still, waiting for the room around her to stop spinning. Once it did she gently removed herself from Harry's hold, smiling as she did. "Thanks," she said.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked her, his eyes concerned.

"I'm fine. Just a bit dizzy." She smiled at Harry. "Don't tell, but I hate traveling by Floo."

"Don't tell, but so do I."

"Come on, you two. Let's get going." Mr. Weasley's voice broke in. He shepherded his daughter, son, and his son's best friend into the brick-lined courtyard behind the pub. With a tap of his wand on the proper brick the archway opened, and the four of them entered Diagon Alley.

Once in the crowded, bustling thoroughfare Harry deliberately slowed his pace, allowing Ron and Mr. Weasley to draw ahead. Ginny was also lagging behind, more due to fascination with the shop windows then anything else. When Harry judged that Ron and his father were far enough ahead he reached out and caught Ginny's arm, halting her.

"Harry, what. . .?"

"You didn't really answer my question," he said. "Just now. In the Cauldron."

Ginny's forehead wrinkled slightly as she thought back. "About am I all right?" she asked, looking incredulous. "I was just a bit dizzy, that was all. I always get dizzy from Floo Powder."

He shook his head. "No, that's not all. At least not today." He stared at her intently for a moment until she was all but squirming in discomfort. "Did you take a good look at yourself in the mirror this morning?" Harry asked.

"What is this in aid of, Harry?" Ginny said sharply, crossing her arms before her chest.

"Are you having nightmares?" Harry shot back.

Other than a tightening of her mouth she didn't react. She was getting angry, that much was obvious, but if what he suspected was true, Harry didn't really care. She'd need help if it was true. "Well?" he asked.

Her defensive posture drooped slightly. She turned her head toward where she could just see her father and brother in the crowd, blinking back a sudden rush of tears. She sighed and turned back to face Harry. "What if I am?" she asked, her quiet voice almost lost in the bustle around them. Her head fell and she studied the ground beneath their feet. "It can't be helped. I can't be helped."

"What are the dreams about?" he asked.

Ginny's head snapped up and her eyes flashed. "What do you think?!" she snarled, angry now. "What is this, anyway? Torment Ginny Day?" She spun away from him and started to walk off. Harry caught her arm before she could go more than a step. "Let me go, Harry."

"Not yet," he said, gripping her arm tighter. He glanced up and saw Ron coming towards them, fighting against the tide of people. He didn't have a lot of time. He pulled her closer to him. "I know what your nightmares are about, Ginny. I'd be willing to bet one hundred galleons that they're the same as mine."

"I don't have an hundred galleons."

"You know what I meant!" Harry snapped, getting angry himself. He could hear Ron calling their names now. He waved to his friend, then turned back to Ginny. "Will you at least talk to me about it? Can you at least trust me?"

Their eyes met, and Ginny saw the concern in Harry's. That, and a measure of fear. Most of the time he hid it well, but now it was laid bare. For her to see. In that instant she knew that if she could tell anyone about the nightmares it was Harry. She trusted him.

She gave a quick nod in response to his question just as Ron came up to them.

"What's up?" he asked.

Harry had stifled a sigh of relief when Ginny had agreed to talk to him. Now he loosened his grip on her arm and grinned at his friend. "Nothing. Just a little delayed Floo dizziness. Right, Gin?"

"Yeah," she said, passing a hand over her forehead. "That's all." She slid her arm from Harry's hand. "I'm fine now." She cast one last glance at Harry, who nodded slightly, before following her brother. Her stomach was in an uproar.

He'd called her Gin. Not Ginny.

**~**~**~**~**~**

"Mum, I'm going outside for a walk. I won't be long."

"By yourself?" Molly asked, shocked.

Ginny rolled here eyes and sighed. She should have seen this coming. "Yes, Mum. By myself."

"But. . . but. . ." Molly could only splutter.

"Mum," Ginny began, trying her best to sound mature and reasonable. "Its still light outside. I'll stay inside the wards, I promise. Besides, everyone else is busy with other things. I just want some air and some exercise. That's all." Her tone left no room for argument.

"Ginny. . ."

"I'll go with her, Mrs. Weasley. I could use some fresh air myself."

Ginny swallowed at Harry's words. Blast him, she thought to herself. Guess there's no getting out of that conversation now. She glared at him as he approached. Harry's only response was a lift of an eyebrow and an annoyingly smug smirk.

"Oh, Harry, thank you!" Molly exclaimed. "I'd just feel better, all things considered. . ."

All things considered, Harry repeated the words in his mind. I think I'm going to really hate that phrase soon. "Not a problem," he said out loud with a nod to Molly. He looked at Ginny and gestured to the door. "After you."

Ginny brushed past him and exited quickly, all but running across the back yard away from Harry. She vaulted the fence in one smooth movement and briskly continued on her way.

Harry followed more sedately. He knew where she was going; the path they were on ended in the glade where they practiced Quidditch. It was still within the magical protection wards of The Burrow, but as far away from the house as you could get.

When he caught her up Ginny was sitting in the center of the glade, her knees drawn to her chest and her hands clasped lightly around her knees. The setting sun gilded her hair and gave her an almost otherworldly appearance. Her first words, however, shattered that illusion.

"Go to hell, Harry."

He laughed and sat down beside her, careful to keep more then an arm's length away from her. Ginny's temper was famous for its ferocity even amongst the members of her equally tempestuous family. He didn't relish being on the receiving end of it. There was no hope for it, however, as he had a feeling what he was about to start would only have one result; Ginny angry and Harry in pieces.

"Time for that talk," he said quietly.

"Why?" she asked.

Harry understood her easily. She wasn't asking why they were having this talk, but why was he so determined to help her if he could. An excellent question, he said to himself. When I get the answer I'll be sure to share it.

"I don't really know, Gin," he began, his voice sounding somewhat hesitant. "Maybe you're right and there's no help for either of us, but wouldn't you rather try?" He looked towards her. "Do you want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he's had such an effect on your life? Especially now?"

Ginny closed her eyes, but he didn't miss the tears that began to leak out. She shook her head and drew in a shaky breath. When she started to speak her voice was the merest thread of sound; Harry had to move closer to her to be able to hear.

"It was him. Tom Riddle. The same nightmare I've had since. . ." Her voice broke and she swallowed hard before she continued. "I haven't had it for weeks. I was beginning to believe I was finally getting over it." She looked into Harry's eyes, hers glimmering with tears. "Why?" she asked. "Why now?"

"I think. . ." Harry had to swallow before he could continue. "I think because of me, Ginny. I think you had my nightmare." Her eyes widened and he quickly continued. "I don't mean you had it for me, or in place of me. I think we. . . well, shared it, for lack of a better term." He took her hand in his and held it tight, keeping his eyes locked on hers at the same time. "Tell me what you saw in the dream."

Ginny wanted to look away from his emerald eyes but found she couldn't. They held her as if she were hypnotized. With her eyes locked on Harry's she began to speak. "It started out the same as always; a lot of disjointed images of snakes, and blood on the wall, and the dead roosters. Then the long slide down into the Chamber. And he came out of the diary. . ." Her voice hitched.

"Go on," Harry said softly.

"Normally I wake up at that point. But this time. . ." Her voice faded as she cast her memory back into the nightmare. "It was almost as if I was watching one of those moving pictures that Muggles are so fond of. I was watching, but I was also a participant. Does that make any sense?" She shook her head. "I could feel things, and think things. Things I knew weren't coming from my own heart or mind. I heard him say Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against the famous Harry Potter*, and then. . ." The words started to tumble from her mouth in a rush. "I saw the basilisk, and the phoenix, and then the sword appeared, and. . . I was so scared, but I knew I had to fight; I didn't know what else to do. But just when I felt this horrible pain in the crook of my elbow I. . . I. . . I woke up." Tears were streaming unheeded down her face as she stared at Harry. "It was you, wasn't it? All of it; what I saw. That was what you did, what you went through, to save my life."

Harry could only nod, not trusting himself to speak.

"Good God," she breathed. "I never knew; never really understood." She shook her head, almost bemused. "I never knew," she repeated. She met Harry's eyes again. "Why, Harry?"

This why was different from earlier. This was a question he couldn't possibly evade. "I don't really know, Gin. Except that it had to be done." He shrugged. "I know that's not much of an answer, but its all I have."

Ginny accepted his words, although something in her face told him this wasn't the end of that conversation. Eventually she would make him truly answer. And when she does, Harry though, heaven help me. But for the moment there were other things that needed to be discussed between them. There was no help for it; he had to plunge straight in.

"I had the same dream last night," he began. He held up a hand at Ginny's sharp intake of breath. "Exactly the same, right down to feeling as if I was watching it while at the same time being a part of what was happening. That was a first for me," he admitted, a touch of amusement creeping into his voice. "Usually I am all too aware of having been a participant at the time." His right hand closed into a first, almost as if he were grasping the hilt of a sword.

"But how?" Ginny's voice broke into his memories. "How is this happening? And why is it happening now, instead of three years ago?"

"As to the 'how', I think I know." He looked away from Ginny for the first time since she had started to describe the dream, tilting his face up to the darkening sky. "A life debt between wizards is a powerful thing; one of the most powerful magical bonds there is. Its not surprising that pieces of ourselves would leak into the other at times, especially when we're asleep." Ginny nodded her understanding, remembering the talk her father had had with her the summer after her first year at Hogwarts. Arthur had described to her the exact nature and power of the life debt, but she was only just now beginning to truly understand it.

"As to the question of 'why now'. . . Well, that's a bit tougher." He glanced back at Ginny. "About all I can do is hazard a guess."

"Its because he's back, isn't it?" Ginny asked, her voice quavering slightly. "You-Know-Who."

"Don't!" Harry exclaimed, facing her and rising to his knees. "Don't call him that. You've met him, Ginny. You've stared into his eyes and seen what he is. Don't ever let anything frighten you into not calling him by name. I think you and I have both earned that right."

Ginny felt a rush of emotion come over her. Whether it was Harry's words or her own courage rising to the surface she didn't know but she nodded decisively. "Its because Vol. . ." She took a breath and forced the name out. "Voldemort's back, and that has somehow increased the intensity of the bond between us, right?"

"That would be my guess," Harry concluded. He was unable to prevent the grin that came to his face. Ginny's face when she had actually spoken the name Voldemort had been fascinating; a contrast between sheer horror at her audacity, and pure joy at the overcoming of an obstacle.

"So what do we do now?" Ginny asked.

"Deal with it as best we can," Harry replied. "Although when we return to school I think a chat with Professor Dumbledore will be in order."

*Harry Potter & The Chamber of Secrets, U.S paperback edition, p. 317