Talking To Doors

Talking to Doors

Ron came downstairs. "I told him dinner was ready," he said, shrugging. "But he was sleeping so I reckon he'll stay up there." Fred, George, and Ginny exchanged looks, and Ginny crossed her arms. Bloody boy, she thought.

"Well, give him another few hours," Tonks said, walking past them. "Then you can go do whatever it takes to get him out of that room. "No doubt he's feeling a bit guilty...hello Remus!"

The four siblings turned to each other as Tonks greeted their former professor. "Feeling more than a bit guilty, I'd say," Ginny whispered. After all, Tonks didn't know what they had all heard on the Extendable Ears.

"Always seems to blame himself, doesn't he?" mused George.

When Remus and Tonks left the room, the four siblings leaned in closer toward one another, as they always did when confronted with situations that needed to be solved. "When do you suppose he'll stop hiding?" asked Fred.

Even though Harry had only been upstairs for a few hours, Ron, Ginny, and the twins all knew how Harry could be. Most likely he'd sink into a depression of some sort and refuse to show his face.

"I don't know how the hell we're going to get him out of there," Ron continued in a low, worried voice. "When he makes up his mind, he's stubborn." Ginny let out a snort.

"We could always smoke him out!" said George eagerly.

"Honestly, it's not his bloody fault, what happened to dad," added Fred.

"Yes, we know that, but the prat's too thick to figure it out!" Ginny burst out angrily. No matter what Harry thought, and Ginny knew he was thinking that he was possessed, he was wrong. Harry had not been the snake; he hadn't even left his room. Ginny would have thought that even Harry would be able to piece that together.

Her brothers looked at her in alarm. "Ginny, we thought you'd be a little more sympathetic toward your ickle Harrykins," said Fred, with a teasing grin. Normally, Ginny would be highly offended by this, but the welcome change in her brothers' moods from the night dad had been attacked was something to be thankful for.

"Of course I'm sympathetic, Fred," Ginny said softly. "It's awful what happened, but he's making it worse, taking the blame. Really, he's being stupid! If he would only talk to me about what it's like to be possessed, then he'd know that he wasn't." She, Ginny, had been possessed for a whole year, but had she hidden herself away from the world afterwards knowing the horrible things she had done? No, she hadn't. And for Harry, who hadn't even been possessed to go about thinking that he had when he had no idea what it felt like to feel so...used...then he...it made Ginny livid.

Ginny's brothers looked awkward. The subject of her possession had not been mentioned for quite a long time, and it seemed they had forgotten. Ginny rolled her eyes, feeling hurt. It was one thing if Harry forgot, which he probably had, as he hardly paid her any attention and was dealing with a lot on his plate, but her own brothers? How could they possibly forget after all the nightmares she had had that summer? "I'm going to go talk to him. You lot go on to dinner, I'll be in there soon," she said quietly, after a tense pause.

The others had no objection, and Ginny trudged up the stairs to Harry's room, shivering slightly at the cold. The stairs creaked as she walked up them, and she was becoming increasingly nervous. Would Harry even hear her out? Probably not, she told herself, but it was worth a shot.

She was now standing outside the door to Harry and Ron's bedroom and she raised her hand to knock on the door, and then brought it down. It's only Harry, she told herself. Ah, but since when has it been only Harry? a nasty little voice murmured in the back of her mind. "Ever since I gave up on him," she told herself out loud, as though it would make it true, and, with a deep breath, she knocked.

There was no answer.

"Wonderful," she muttered. "He's ignoring me." She knocked again, louder this time.

There was still no answer.

"Fine, Harry, don't open the door. I'm stubborn, just like you, and I'm not leaving until what I have to say gets heard. So if that means talking to a door, that's fine with me." She paused, waiting for Harry to come to his senses and open the door.

He didn't.

"Harry, you need to listen to me. We miss you downstairs, Ron does especially. He feels horrible and so does mum. After all, she doesn't think you did anything wrong and if she did, you know she'd tell you. You're practically her son, she loves you so much! You're like a son to dad, too."

She paused again, this time for breath. "You're a part of the family, Harry, and you know it. Ron told me you were sulking for a bit because you thought you hadn't even been invited for Christmas...and that's really stupid of you! Even Percy's invited for Christmas, though I doubt he'd come, the great big prat...

"So there's really no use blaming yourself for something you didn't do. Anyone who's got any common sense, and I'm not saying that you don't have any, but..." She trailed off, knowing she making a fool of herself. She was glad that Harry couldn't see her face heat up.

"Anyone with common sense knows that you couldn't have been that snake, Harry. You didn't attack dad. You never left your bed. So unless dad appeared in your room for a moment just so you could bite him and then went back to wherever he was, it's just silly to think that.

"You weren't possessed!" she added, a bit loudly, as though Harry had just argued back at her. "Don't you know that? You don't know what it's like to be possessed, Harry. I do. When you're possessed, you...there are blank periods, you don't remember what you've been doing for hours at a time. I was in one spot one second, and the next I'm somewhere else, not knowing how I got there. You do things against your will, even though you fight it, but you just can't because you can't move your legs anymore. Someone else is."

Ginny leaned her head against the door, closing her eyes and trying to block out the memories of Tom Riddle. There were tears prickling in her eyes, and though she had tried hard to forget the diary, she never could. Though she wanted to keep it to herself forever, Harry needed to know what it was like...so he could understand.

"When you're possessed, you have no control at all. Riddle made me do all those things, he'd just command me to, and I'd argue, but eventually he'd win over. And you haven't gone through that, Harry, and I hope you don't ever have to.

"No one blames you for what happened to dad because it wasn't you. It was Vol-" she cursed, then recovered. "It was You-Know-Who, Harry. Tom Riddle. We all know you'd never attack dad. You did the exact opposite, Harry. You saved him!"

"Ginny!" a voice called from downstairs. "Are you coming to eat?"

"Er...in a minute, mum!" she yelled back, then looked at the door again. "If it hadn't been for you, he would have died. If it hadn't been for you, I would have died. Doesn't that mean anything to you, Harry? Doesn't it? Because it means a lot to us, and to me. You mean everything to me--er...us," she said, praying he hadn't caught that part.

"So please, Harry, come out."

She paused, hoping her speech had gotten through his thick skull. When he didn't respond at all, she became a bit angry. She had just poured out her soul to him, told him of her possession when she hadn't told anybody...except for Professor Dumbledore. Well, perhaps he's absorbing it all, she comforted herself.

She sat down on the ground, her back to the door, sitting with her knees pulled up underneath her chin. "Harry, you don't have to answer," she said softly, "but one slight indication that you even heard me would be nice."

She heard a sniff from inside. Ginny was positively still for a moment or two, then heard the sniff again. She turned around and placed her head against the door. Oh no, she thought. There was no way she could have made him...cry? "Harry?" she said timidly, standing up on shaky knees and grasping the doorknob. "Harry, are you okay, can I come in?" she said quickly.

When there was no answer, Ginny licked her lips, then twisted the doorknob and opened the door. She closed it quietly behind her and then looked over to Harry's bed, walking up to him. He was curled up in a ball, twitching somewhat and sniffing. Ginny watched him for a few seconds, and nearly cried. He hadn't heard one word of what she had said at all. He had been sleeping...the entire time!

Whatever frustration she had felt at this faded away as a choking sound came from Harry's throat. He was crying in his sleep. Ginny made to place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, that's what her mother had always done with her, but drew back her hand. It wasn't her place to comfort Harry's. What if he woke up?

The hell with that, she thought, as he twitched unpleasantly again. Ginny walked up to his bed and kneeled down, so that her face was only a foot from Harry's. Trembling a bit, her heart beating furiously, she reached out both her hands and removed the horn rimmed glasses from his face and set them on the table next to his bed. Her eyes lingered on his glasses briefly--had always loved those glasses--then she focused her attention back on Harry.

He was no longer crying, though his cheeks were tearstained, but he twitched a little. Biting her lip, she reached out a hand and touched his face. Instantly, he jerked away and she pulled her hand back as though something had scorched it, but his body did relax and that was something. She touched his face again, and he stopped moving entirely as she began to brush away the tears.

Her breath was now coming at an unnatural pace, and she struggled to fight back her own tears as she looked at him. Harry looked so serious, even when he was sleeping. Why couldn't he just be happy for once, even if it was only in his dreams? Why couldn't she ever be the one to make him happy?

Oh, but you're trying now, said the voice in her head.

No, I'm trying to comfort him. Comfort isn't happiness.

And you should know?

I do know.

Pushing away the thoughts in her head, she removed her hand from Harry's face and her eyes wandered to his hands. She had dreamt of his hands once upon a time, she still did, but never in her dreams were they balled into fists. Frowning, she looked hurriedly at Harry, making sure he didn't stir, then she took his right hand in her own. Slowly, she pried his hand open and took it between both of hers. The heat rising in her face, she massaged his hand gently, and placed it over his chest.

Ginny took Harry's left hand and did the same to it as well, studying his face. The muscles, which had been tense upon her entering, had now softened. His lips, which had been set in a straight, white line, had parted a bit, and she could feel his breath in her ear, while she rubbed his left hand. Even when he was asleep, he had the power to dissolve her into a puddle, and she felt the whole right side of her face tingle, and her ears burning. She set down his hand down and backed away from the side of the bed somewhat.

Harry was now only twitching every ten seconds or so, and Ginny touched his face again, hoping that would help. She waited for ten seconds, and he didn't twitch. She held her breath as she waited another ten seconds. He twitched.

"Damn!" she said loudly, then bit down hard on her lip, rolling her eyes. Nice one, Weasley, she told herself.

She was thinking of something else she could do to help Harry, when something caught her eye. Ginny hadn't been paying attention to it before, but now it seemed as though the lightning bolt shaped scar was calling to her. Ginny could hear the ringing in her ears as she moved closer to the bed.

As she touched Harry's jet black hair to move it away from the scar, a tear slid down her cheek and she let out a soft sigh. Harry's hair felt soft and thin, better than she pictured. She brushed it aside and her eyes focused solely on his scar. Knowing she shouldn't be doing this, but wanting to, she traced the scar gently with her index finger. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure Harry could hear it, but at the moment, she didn't care.

Then Ginny did something totally unexpected, even to her. She raised her head and kissed Harry's scar. She was afraid for a moment, because Harry's whole body stiffened at once, but then relaxed completely. She drew away, a tingling on her lips and she brought her hand to her mouth, another tear sliding down her cheek.

She stood up, just as Harry rolled over in his sleep, and she closed her eyes. After gathering control, she picked up the blanket Harry had kicked off himself and she placed it over him.

Ginny made her way quickly from the room, with one last look at the Boy Who Lived, and joined her family and the other Order members for dinner. "Did he listen to you?" Fred asked her, mouth full of potatoes.

Ginny sat down next to him. "He was asleep, so I couldn't talk to him."

"Then why were you up there so long?" asked Ron, grinning.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hey, George, do you remember where Hermione's gone for Christmas?" she said loudly, smirking when Ron's ears glowed red.

"I don't know what you're talking about," muttered Ron. "Tonks, can you pass the salt?"

"Really, though, Gin, why were you up there so long?" asked Fred.

"Nothing, really, it's just I saw a large spider up there and I had to get rid of it. It was in Ron's bed after all."

"What?" Ron said sharply.

"On second thought, I thought I saw another one up there," she added, with the air of one commenting on the weather. Ron looked like he was going to be sick.

Ginny smiled to herself.

Ron was sure to pay her back for this, but at least Harry was upstairs, sleeping peacefully.