A/N: "And I swear, the next chapter will not take… 5 and a half months."
Well, technically, it didn't. It took two and a half years. But who's counting, eh?
I have no idea if anyone's interested in this story. I have no idea if the readers who read it before are still around on the site, or if this is interesting to new readers. But all I know is, having read the final book (which I enjoyed, despite the wrong couplings and the crapilogue), I've gotten back into fanfiction and had a desire to continue this story. It's been so long that I couldn't really remember writing it- and I'd deleted all my plans, so had to come up with new ones. But I do have them, and I'm already working on the next chapter(s), and I will try my hardest to finish it this time (it's summer holidays, at least). But if no one reviews, clearly no one is interested, so, if you do want me to carry on this charade (ha!), then you have to review. Reviews are no longer things I wish to have; they are things I require.
Anyway. Enough. Read on, if you wish, and then review if your interest is peaked. Oh, and sorry for all the Ginny- but with Hermione in a coma and Harry being in a repetitive loop of confusion, she's the easiest way into the story. But- and this is a promise- Hermione awakens very soon.
Love Will Come Through
Chapter Four: Confusion
"Ginny," Harry said suddenly, making the flame-haired girl sat at his bedside jump in surprise, "can I ask you something?"
Ginny carefully closed the photo album she had once again been flicking through, immersed silently in memories while Harry, at his own bequest, had simply sat there thinking soundlessly. She looked up at him, the look of confusion on his face still sending a sad jolt to her heart, and smiled as best she could. "Sure."
Harry played absently with his bed sheets as he spoke, his words echoing eerily off the stone walls of the hospital wing- there was no one, besides the immobile figure of Hermione, to hear their words. Only the distant sounds of pupils enjoying their weekend with snowball fights mingled in Ginny's ears along with Harry's tentative speech. "It's… about Ron."
Ginny's eyebrow rose slightly, but she said nothing, drawing her chair closer as she waited for Harry to continue.
"Can I… can I trust him?" asked Harry slowly.
Asked that question a month ago, Ginny knew she would have laughed it off, but in these new set of circumstances the words held more weight than she ever would have expected them to. She sighed. "Why are you asking?" she said, stalling.
Harry's eyes were uncharacteristically fierce, and Ginny felt almost scorched as he stared at her. He breathed deliberately before answering. "He told me that Hermione broke up with me before we went after Voldemort, that she didn't love me anymore," he said calmly.
Ginny started. "He what?"
Harry just looked at her. Ginny felt slightly dizzy- it was absurd, surely, she knew that… and yet still, something in the back of her mind niggled irritatingly. She ignored it.
She bit her lip. "Harry, I… I don't think Hermione would ever have done that. She loved you, Harry. Ron's just…" She waved her arms hopelessly.
"Just what?" Harry prompted.
Ginny sighed, looking down at the floor. "Harry, I know you've lost an enormous chunk of your memory, but you're not stupid. Surely you've noticed?" she said simply.
"Ron is in love with Hermione," Harry said in an emotionless voice.
Ginny nodded curtly. "Exactly." She sighed again. "Harry, Ron is my brother, and I love him, but he's a dolt, and I think that Hermione made him… well, she made him go a bit nuts. And before you left… something happened. Between all three of you. I don't know what, none of you would tell me," Ginny said, a sudden trace of bitterness in her voice. "But Ron didn't talk to you after that… until you woke up in here, of course. And Hermione… she was odd. Things weren't the same. With any of you. I mean," she said, fiddling with the cuffs of her jacket, "it's not like you and Hermione didn't talk to each other, but there was… there was definitely something up." She brushed a stray hair back from her eyelid and looked back at Harry. "And then we heard that You-Know-Who was advancing and you both left."
Harry stared into nothing, trying to get his brain around this information. A crystalline silence fell over the two of them, occasionally broken by the distant shouts of the joyful students outside.
Eventually, Harry looked up again. "So…" he trailed off. Ginny just looked plaintively at him. "Hermione could have broken up with me," he said quietly.
Ginny leant forward quickly, her hands automatically grabbing Harry's. She looked up at him fiercely. "Harry… I can't say for sure that she didn't. But even if she did, Harry… I know, I know, it wasn't because she didn't love you," she said beseechingly. "If that's what Ron said, Harry, you… you can't believe that."
"But I thought Ron was supposed to be my friend," Harry said, almost in a whisper, and Ginny felt sadness washing over her again. She gripped Harry's hands harder and stared at him.
"He was. But this whole thing with Hermione… he couldn't handle it," she said. "He could barely manage to speak to you; he was making a complete prat out of himself whenever you and Hermione were around." Ginny paused, running a hand through her shiny red hair in frustration. "Oh, Harry, he's not a bad person, he's just stupid sometimes! But you… you can't trust what he says about you and Hermione. I think he still thinks he has a chance with her, you know, so he's trying to take it… never mind the fact that she's unconscious," she added with a weak curl of her lips. Harry sighed, rubbing his nose, and Ginny sensed he wanted to be left alone. "I'd better go, now, Harry," she said, smiling as she rubbed his hands comfortingly. She stood and walked around his bed, stopping to look back at him. "I can come back later if you want…?"
Harry smiled. "Yeah," he replied. Ginny grinned, leaned in to kiss his cheek, and left, smiling back at Harry before clicking the door shut.
Harry took off his glasses, placed them carefully on the bedside table, and closed his eyes, head lolling back against the headboard.
*~*~*
"Ron, you are a complete bastard!"
Ginny flew at her brother, whose look of utter depression morphed into one of alarm with startling rapidity, and he tried to grab hold of his sister's arms as they tried to make harsh impact with his face. She'd landed several stinging glances before he managed to stop her, or before she relented, and she fell back into the chair next to him, breathing heavily. She glared at him; her fierce eyes made him feel distinctly on edge.
"What the hell, Gin?" he said, throwing his hands up in puzzlement.
She was holding back some nasty words, he could tell- he'd seen that look before, the one where her lips were curled so far inwards they seemed to stop existing altogether, though it was usually seen directed at Fred or George. More deep breaths were heard before she finally spoke, her tone a foreboding calm. "You talked to Harry," she stated. "You lied to Harry."
Ron snorted. "Gin, the man's lost half his brain, are you really going to believe what he says?"
Ginny leapt up again, her wand appearing from nowhere to impress the tip of her brother's nose. "Ronald Weasley, you are an insensitive arsehole," she said menacingly, pressing the shining piece of hawthorn harder at his face. "Harry may have lost some of his memory, but he hasn't lost the ability to listen. How could you exploit him like that? You're supposed to be his friend." She backed off slightly, ignoring the sizeable audience they seemed to have gathered around them.
Ron mumbled something, but Ginny cut over him. "Yes, yes, I know that was before Harry stole Hermione from you, or whatever the hell you think he did! But do you not remember anything? All the things Harry did for you?"
"What about all the things he did for me?" Ron shot back angrily. "No, he flounces off to live happily ever after with someone who is supposed to be with me! What are you looking at?" he yelled, glancing at a first year in the watching crowd, who squealed and disappeared behind two older students.
Ginny looked around at the crowd as if seeing them for the first time. "Guys, please, this is a private conversation," she said pointedly, and the crowd quietly dispersed, though some positioned themselves nearby, ears clearly pointed in the direction of the siblings. "Ron," Ginny said, leaning forward, now conscious of speaking more quietly, "Hermione isn't supposed to be with anyone. Surely she should get to choose who she's with?" she asked, looking pleadingly at her brother.
But Ron was barely listening. "Please, Ginny, stop pretending," he said venomously. "You might act like you care, but you want the same as me. Do you think no one notices how you throw yourself at Harry? It's embarrassing," he smirked.
Everyone in the room looked round at the loud crack that suddenly rang out in the air, the room suddenly deadly silent. Ginny had hit Ron square across the face, which flushed a deep red with alarming immediacy, and a trickle of blood started to run down his cheek. His eyes bulged, but Ginny had already got up, striding furiously out of the portrait hole.
*~*~*
The glowing morning sun appeared over the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest, making the carpet of snow over the grounds glisten beautifully. The imposing figure of Hagrid trudged cheerfully through the thicket to the castle, Fang padding briskly alongside him. Harry smiled sadly, and turned back to the hospital room, which, he had come to feel, was decidedly gloomy.
He wanted to go outside, to enjoy the snow with all the other students- even if he couldn't remember a lot of them- but Professor McGonagall had advised him against it- the students would be all over him, she warned. Sighing, he had had to agree. It was bad enough in his classes- not yet, after nearly a week of his being present again, had his classmates become used to his presence, although Malfoy seemed to take delight in laughing at Harry's befuddled expressions.
He may have supposedly loved this Hermione, but it was decidedly irritating the amount of things he couldn't remember simply because she'd apparently always been there. Catching him up on years of forgotten education was now a bigger priority than his recollection of Hermione- after experiencing Harry's cluelessness for herself, Professor McGonagall had ordered emergency lessons in every subject, taken whenever the teachers were available. Snape seemed to take this rather badly, but grudgingly went through things with Harry anyway.
Once Harry saw or heard things, though, he remembered it instantly, and so the lessons were progressing more quickly than anyone could have imagined, Harry only needing to read through the old schoolbooks once.
Things were, however, not progressing nearly as well with trying to remember Hermione, though Harry was now so confused over how he was supposed to feel towards her that he felt strangely apathetic. Still, they kept trying, with Ginny an almost constant source at his bedside, though he'd quickly learnt to avoid mention of Ron. His supposed best friend had not visited him since his apparent lies about Hermione, and Harry only saw him across the classroom, where Ron was decidedly ignoring him.
Harry, in place of Ron, had struck up a closer friendship with Neville, who seemed only too pleased to sit next to and chat with Harry. He even took shifts at trying to prod Harry's memories of Hermione, though he'd had as little success as Ginny. Still, he was good company, and he made Harry laugh, something Harry was only too glad of.
And Hermione was still lying there, eyes closed serenely, white skin pale in the frosty air of the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey checked her every so often, but she softly informed a questioning Harry that there was nothing to do but wait.
And so it was that Harry sat up in his hospital bed as the sun set over the flawlessly smooth snow of the horizon, Neville lounging in the chair next to the window, Ginny perched on the edge of the bed, yet again flicking through the photo album. She no longer gave any explanations; they had gone through the pictures so many times that even though he still remembered nothing, he knew the stories behind them by heart. This one was Harry and Hermione with their respective dates at the Yule Ball; that one was Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys at the Quidditch World Cup; this one was he and Hermione celebrating their two month anniversary. Harry knew the facts, the ideas; but still, escaping him, hidden or gone forever, were the feelings. Harry felt entirely separate from the lookalike he saw in the photos, smiling and waving up at him, arm around Hermione. Harry was not that person, not any more, and he didn't think that he ever could be.
"Stop," he said suddenly, forcefully, making Ginny start and Neville look up from his magazine. "I can't do this anymore," he explained, snapping the book shut on Ginny's fingers.
Neville leant forward; Ginny sighed. "Harry, I know it's frustrating, but this is the only thing we can do, at least until Hermione wakes up," she said plaintively.
Harry shook his head violently. "No," he said loudly. "No, Ginny, you don't understand. I can't look at these photos anymore, I can't look at this… this person I'm supposed to be," he intoned, gesturing at the photo album Ginny had placed at the end of the bed. "I can't be the person you expect me to be, it's just not there anymore," he said, running a hand through his hair.
Ginny placed a hand soothingly on his; he flinched slightly, but did not remove it. "Harry… we don't expect you to be anything," she said softly, looking at Neville for support.
He nodded. "We know you're bored, Harry, but we have to keep trying…"
Harry took a deep breath. "You don't understand," he repeated in a harsher tone. "I'm not bored, I'm exhausted. It's not working, and I'm not sure I even want it to," he said, avoiding Ginny's eyes. He could still see, though, out of the corner of his eye, that she had leant closer.
"Harry," she said, voice almost right next to his ear. "Don't think like that. You can't. Once you have it back, Harry," she said, voice cracking, "you'll understand why it's so important. And Hermione… she needs you, Harry. I can't imagine what she'll do when she finds out that this… that you…" Ginny broke off, audibly swallowing.
Harry closed his eyes in frustration. "I want to be alone," he said finally, not looking at either of them.
He heard Ginny start to say something, but evidently Neville quieted her, for he said, "Okay, Harry. We'll be back later." There was a clear strand of sadness in Neville's voice, and Harry felt slightly guilty that there was also clear disappointment beneath it. But he stuck to staunchly examining his bed sheets, and he heard his friends walking quietly to the door, which clicked shut behind them.
*~*~*
Ginny was unusually subdued as they trekked back to the common room, Neville observed silently, and she seemed to be walking differently- gone was the light, bouncy step she usually took, replaced instead by a heavy, downbeat trudge. Her shoulders were hunched, too, he noticed, and if he hadn't been so afraid of her reaction he would have put a hand on them to try and comfort her. But, instead, she moodily trudged on, and he just followed her, saying nothing.
They had almost reached the Gryffindor common room when the staircase they were walking up suddenly took it upon itself to move, swinging around and throwing Neville to the side. Ginny had stumbled too, and Neville heard her curse under her breath.
The staircase settled itself in its new position, and, since both Neville and Ginny knew only too well that waiting for it to move back was a pointless idea- it could be hours- they wordlessly continued up the staircase, both trying to figure out which path they could take now. Ginny stopped once off the staircase, and Neville, looking pensively at one of the portraits (which was looking suspiciously back at him), walked into her.
"Ow!" Ginny yelped, falling onto her knees. Neville wobbled but managed to stay upright. "Shit, Neville!" Ginny said angrily, though when she looked up at him she simply looked sad.
"Sorry," Neville replied, flushing, holding out a hand to help her up. Ginny gave a weak smile, and brushed herself off, freezing momentarily when a serene, lilting voice sounded from behind her.
"Are you alright, Ginny?" asked Luna, peering at her classmate in concern. Ginny gave a smile, which quickly faded back into gloom.
"Fine, Luna, thank you," she said briskly, hitting at her trousers to remove the last of the dirt. "Staircase surprised us, is all," she explained, sniffing slightly as she looked back at Luna.
Luna smiled warmly. "Hello, Neville," she smiled over Ginny's shoulder. "How are you?"
Neville smiled back. "I'm okay, Luna, thanks for asking," he replied. He jumped slightly when Ginny suddenly grabbed Luna by the arm; Luna, however, took this in her stride, and allowed Ginny to drag her through the archway behind her and down the corridor. Neville was left standing alone for a good few seconds before he realized he'd been left behind, and he ran after them, yelling, "Ginny! Wait for me!"
To his surprise, Ginny slowed, though her grip on Luna's arm did not loosen. Neville caught up with them; from the look Luna gave him, she did not appear to be bothered by Ginny's strong hold on her; in fact, she barely seemed to have noticed it at all. Neville smiled at her, getting that familiar lucid smile back.
Quickly they were moving again, and Ginny's voice struck up: "Neville, I can't believe I didn't think of this before! Luna can help us; she always has the best ideas."
Neville frowned. Going in search of Crumple Headed Snorkacks didn't exactly seem like a great idea to him, but Ginny was already marching Luna off up the stairs, and Neville was forced to jog to keep up. He heard Luna remark, "The grounds are really pretty in the snow, aren't they?", but Ginny said nothing until they reached the portrait hole, where for the first time Luna's face registered surprise.
"You're going to take me in there?" she asked, a bemused smile appearing on her face.
Ginny waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, Luna, no one'll care, you're practically a Gryffindor anyway the number of times you've helped us out," she said, then turned to the Fat Lady, who was dropping grapes ponderously into her open mouth. "Victory," she said, and the Fat Lady waved them in- Neville heard her choke on a grape as he followed Ginny and Luna into the common room.
It was still light enough outside that most of the Gryffindors were still enjoying their snowball fights or whatever they were doing outside, and so it was easy to commandeer three plush armchairs near to the fire; Neville sank into one, kicked off his shoes and dangled his feet in front of the blissfully warm fire, which crackled in response.
"Oh, hello, Ronald!" Luna suddenly called. Neville looked around. Luna was smiling across the room to Ron, who jumped, gave a weak wave, and then, seeing Ginny glaring fiercely at him, abruptly leapt up from his slumped position and vanished up the stairs to the dormitories.
Luna looked concerned. "Is your brother alright, Ginny?" she asked lightly.
Ginny glowered. "No, he's a bastard," she mumbled, and Luna blinked. Neville jumped in.
"Um, Luna, Ginny and Ron aren't really… well, they're not speaking right now," he said, blushing at his bumbling words. Luna blinked again.
"Oh, dear," she said quietly. "Is it something to do with Harry?" she asked innocently.
Ginny, who had been examining her wand closely, dropped it and blushed. Neville frowned, but turned back to Luna.
"I think it's best we leave it, Luna," he said quietly. Luna nodded sagely.
"Of course," she said graciously. She said nothing more; if it were anyone else, Neville would have wondered why she hadn't asked why she'd been whisked off to an unfamiliar common room for no apparent reason.
As if reading his mind, Ginny, shoving her wand back into her pocket and looked up, gaze steady. "Luna, I'd like to ask you if you'll help us with Harry," she said evenly. Luna smiled.
"Of course," she replied again. "My dad gave me this marvellous ointment, he made it from the saliva of the Wiggling Dingbat," she said eagerly, leaning forward.
Neville laughed, but Ginny shook her head. "I don't think that'll help, Luna," she smiled. Luna sat back, unflustered. "We need to help Harry remember Hermione," she explained.
Luna, if Neville wasn't imagining things, looked momentarily sad, an emotion he'd never known to appear on her face before. Even when she had discussed things like death, her face had maintained its smooth, unbothered gaze. "But, Ginny," she said in confusion, "how can I help?"
Ginny smiled, and Neville was glad to see it seemed to be a genuine one this time. "Oh, I'm sure we'll think of a way," she said mysteriously.