Distraction

jardyn39

Rating: PG
Genres: Angst, Drama
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 18/02/2005
Last Updated: 18/02/2005
Status: completed

After an attempt to help Ginny stop having nightmares, Harry inadvertently finds himself watching an unusual Quidditch match from a high tower. Dozens of Harry Potters are playing, each endlessly falling victim to a variety of unfortunate injuries as the crowd cheers on. A distracted Harry contends with a hat, trolls and dancing.

Chapters

1. Distraction

1. Distraction

Distraction by Jardyn39

Harry Potter stepped out of the fireplace at the Burrow into a deserted kitchen. He could hear chattering from outside. Feeling curious and a little apprehensive, he peered out of the window into the garden as he quietly brushed himself down.

He was hoping to see someone familiar before venturing outside.

Just over an hour ago he had been stuck at Privet Drive, completely oblivious to the fact that he’d been invited to a Weasley family celebration. He had quickly tried to make himself presentable before leaving but his wardrobe was somewhat limited. Thankfully, a few people appeared to be wearing jeans and casual shirts, although perhaps not quite as tatty as his.

He was more concerned that he hadn’t been able to bring a gift. For what Harry thought was probably the hundredth time, he grumbled inwardly that Ron hadn’t thought to warn him or even drop a hint.

Harry had just arrived for the evening party. The wedding service and reception had been held somewhere in France. He didn’t know where.

He was still looking out of the window when a door opened and in walked Bill.

“Harry!” he said cheerfully. “Glad you could come!”

They shook hands and Harry said, “Congratulations.”

Behind Bill there came a shriek of, “Arry!” before a vision in white satin hugged him, breaking their handshake. Fleur quickly gabbled some excited words in French before pushing herself away but keeping hold of his arms.

They grinned at each other. Fleur was looking extraordinarily radiant.

In a long moment they exchanged congratulations and condolences. Words were not necessary.

Fleur grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him outside into the warm, sunny garden, saying, “Com on, Arry. I weell introduce you.” Her accent was a strong as ever but her English had improved immeasurably.

Bill followed them with a smile on his face.

“Lost her already?” said someone Harry didn’t know.

Bill laughed and said, “Looks like it.”

Fleur dragged Harry over to a small group of men whom she pushed aside. At their centre stood a beautiful tall slim woman dressed in an elegant deep blue dress.

“Mère,” said Fleur, “This iz Arry. Arry Potter.”

The woman smiled and nodded as Harry gently shook her hand, and he realised at once that her mother must have been a Veela. He was quite taken aback by how young she looked.

At that moment Gabrielle ran up to them smiling.

“Arry! Come and dance with me!” shouted Gabrielle.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and smiled apologetically as he allowed himself to be pulled away. Fleur and her mother smiled at him and exchanged a couple of quiet words. Harry noticed that the male entourage looked much happier that he was leaving.

*

“I can’t believe how tall you’ve got,” said Harry as they walked onto the wide polished timber dance floor in the middle of the lawn.

She smiled and placed his hand at her side before taking the other in hers. The music began at once and to Harry’s surprise several couples began to dance.

“I like your dress,” said Harry, “it makes you look all grown up.”

She smiled widely and said, “That’s the idea. I had a dress for the Service, another for the first Reception, and this one for this evening. Fleur helped be choose them.”

Harry smiled and nodded.

“I wish I was a better dancer. I can see you are though.”

“It just takes practice,” she replied. “No-one else would dance before. I thought you wouldn’t like to refuse, though!”

Harry smiled and nodded, inwardly very glad Gabrielle was a very good dancer. She kept whispering instructions and by the end of their third dance, Harry was feeling much more confident.

“Would you like a rest?” he asked, “I’m sure dancing with me must be very tiring.”

“Not at all,” she replied smiling. “Let’s get some juice.”

They walked off the dance area and over to a linen covered table with an assortment of drinks.

“Your English is very good, Gabrielle,” said Harry, handing her a glass.

“Merci,” she replied taking a sip.

“Have you seen Ron around?”

“No, ee’s been making ‘imself scarce around Fleur.”

Harry snorted and nodded.

“Arry, can I ask you something?”

“Of course. What do you want to know?”

“Well,” she began, lowering her voice and moving a little closer. “Fleur mentioned that you know our Grandmother was a Veela.”

Harry nodded.

“It’s just that Fleur and Ma can just turn it on at will. I was ‘oping I could do the same, but I can’t.”

Harry gave her a small smile and said, “Believe me, Gabrielle, that won’t be a problem. You’ll be fighting them off in no time. I’m not sure you’re right about not having the Veela thing, but do you really want nothing but idiots trying to impress you all the time?”

Just then they heard, “Gabrielle?” over the crowd.

“Sorry, Arry,” said Gabrielle, “I think Fleur wants a hand. Thanks for what you said.”

Harry smiled and took her half empty glass. He walked over to the drinks table and placed the two glasses into the bowl. Instantly they washed themselves, jumped out of the water, spun themselves dry and placed themselves back on the table next to the unused glasses.

“Harry?”

Harry looked around to see who had called his name.

“Over here, mate,” said the urgent whisper. It was Ron and he was peering out from behind a dense bush. “Bring a glass over will you? Ow! Better make that two glasses.”

Harry obliged and brought two glasses over to the bush that Ron had disappeared behind again.

“Hi, Harry,” said Hermione.

“Hi,” he said to them both. “You aren’t going to hide here all evening, are you?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and took a glass.

Ron took his, swigged it down at once and handed the empty glass back to Harry.

“If you want more you know where it is,” said Harry grinning at him.

“I’m not thirsty,” said Ron, looking quite parched.

“Oh, all right,” said Harry pretending to sound exasperated. He soon returned with a pitcher of juice.

As Ron gulped the juice down, Harry said, “You look nice, Hermione. Did you arrive this afternoon?”

“Thanks,” she said nervously fiddling with her hair. “No, I went to the service as well. Ginny and Gabrielle looked wonderful as bridesmaids.”

Harry nodded and said, “That must have been interesting. I’ve never been to any kind of wedding.”

“It was all in French,” grumbled Ron, still looking through the undergrowth and not seeing Hermione’s frown.

“How did you get there?” asked Harry, hoping to distract Hermione from arguing with Ron.

“Well, we were on holiday in France anyway. Mum and Dad dropped me off before they returned on the ferry.”

“That’s nice,” said Harry. “How are they?” he asked, wishing Ron would stand up straight.

“Fine, thanks,” she answered, peering out behind the shrubbery.

“Um, would you like to dance?” asked Harry, surprising himself.

Hermione looked at him blankly, and for a moment Harry wondered if there was another bit of shrubbery he could hide behind.

The awkward moment ended when Ron muttered, “No, Harry. She’s still over there.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged grins.

“Well, in that case,” Harry said trying not to laugh. “Hermione, would you like to dance instead?”

“I’d love to, Harry,” Hermione replied, still smiling.

*

Harry led Hermione onto the dance area. Thankfully, there were lots of other people dancing now.

“It was nice of you to keep Ron company,” said Harry smiling as they began to dance, “but I’m not sure you should encourage him.”

Hermione gave a quiet laugh and nodded.

“I’ve been trying to persuade him to come out all day,” she said. “He did his Ushering duties hidden behind a notice board at the church and kept diving under the table during lunch.”

Harry laughed, realising he was enjoying himself more than he had for ages.

“You are looking much better,” Hermione said quietly.

“I feel much better, thanks. Some days are better than others. I’m glad you could come, though. I only found out I was coming to a wedding this afternoon.”

Hermione appeared to blush slightly and said, “It was a lovely service. It was almost entirely in French but I followed most of it. The village was fascinating too.”

Hermione continued to describe the wedding and the village and Harry realised why he was feeling so much better today. He had missed Hermione more than anything.

The music ended but Harry didn’t want to surrender Hermione this quickly.

“Oh, my!” said Hermione grinning over Harry’s shoulder. “Fleur has dragged Ron out for a dance.”

Harry felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Come on Harry,” said Bill grinning, “you can’t monopolise all the good looking girls, you know?”

As Bill and Hermione danced away, Harry turned to see Ginny about to leave the dance floor. He smiled and offered out his arms. Ginny smiled and they danced on.

“You look great, Ginny,” he said easily.

“Thanks,” she replied smiling. “I see Fleur found Ron at last. Maybe he’ll stop behaving like a prat now.”

“There are more people here that I thought there’d be,” said Harry looking around. “Are all these family?”

“About half are relations but the rest are friends,” said Ginny. “Most of Bill’s old school friends are here or are coming after they finish work.”

Harry smiled and nodded, discretely watching Hermione across the dance floor.

*

Harry found himself being dragged to a seat by Gabrielle after they had just finished dancing. Harry had hoped to get back to Hermione when his dance with Ginny had ended, but Gabrielle was too quick for him and had monopolised him into the evening.

“Stay here,” she commanded, “I’m going to get my ‘at.”

Harry smiled and nodded. He was a little tired of dancing although he had no idea why she needed her hat.

“’Ats are very important,” said her mother, smiling from a seat at the next table. “Per’aps more so for a young lady.”

“I had no idea,” replied Harry with a smile.

She got up and sat down in the seat next to Harry. He noticed that her entourage had gone for the moment.

“Forgive me for asking,” she began quietly, “but I sense something conflicting in you.”

Harry frowned but said nothing.

“What I mean iz, I sense you have been influenced by Veela, and yet you are not now.”

“Well, I was influenced the first time a saw some Veela,” admitted Harry blushing slightly. “Hermione had to stop me diving out of the top box at the Quidditch World Cup finals.”

She smiled and nodded.

“Look at Fleur and Bill,” she said gently as they danced slowly a few yards away. “Do you notice, none of the males around them can hide their distraction, but Bill himself isn’t affected. His infatuation is love, nothing else.”

Harry nodded smiling, then he frowned slightly.

“What does that say about me then?” he wondered out loud.

“It simply means that something more is distracting you more than a Veela can.”

At that moment Hermione danced past with Ron. He immediately looked down, annoyed with himself that he had given away his distraction so easily, and then back at Fleur’s mother. She was watching him with a small smile.

“Anything more distracting than a Veela must be something significant indeed,” she said gently. “Be careful. That kind of feeling in the form of true love can be a force for good but it can lead to jealousy and hatred.”

At that moment Gabrielle ran back to rejoin them, complete with matching hat.

“Ah, magnifique,” said her mother clapping her hands. “Now you are ready to promenade properly. ‘Arry, you may escort us around ze garden.”

Harry stood and was shortly after escorting two elegant ladies around the flowerbeds. Harry was actually fascinated by the instruction Gabrielle was receiving on deportment and grace from her mother. It was done in a light-hearted way, but the tuition was definitely there.

Soon Harry too was being taught the correct way to bow. After practising meeting several rose bushes, Harry and Gabrielle actually formally greeted Mr and Mrs Weasley who were also taking a break from the party.

“Excellent!” said Gabrielle’s mother and they all broke into laughter.

Mrs Weasley hugged Harry, looking happier than he’d seen her for ages.

“This is a wonderful party,” said Harry. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”

Eventually Mrs Weasley released him and he was able to shake Mr Weasley’s hand. Gabrielle walked the short distance back to the dance area between Mr and Mrs Weasley, accepting compliments about her hat.

Gabrielle’s mother took Harry’s arm again and they walked slowly behind.

“Can I ask you something?” asked Harry quietly.

“You are troubled by what I said earlier?”

“Um, yes,” he admitted.

They were interrupted by Fleur who said, “Arry, come and dance with me.”

*

“Um, I think Bill wants you,” Harry said smiling as he and Fleur finished their dance.

“’E can wait,” she said mischievously. “’E wants to get away but I absolutely refuse until I ‘ave danced with everyone ‘ere. Besides, I ‘ave not decided oo to take wiz me on ‘oneymoon.”

Harry snorted. Fleur’s last comment, of course, was intended for her new husband who was standing right next to them tapping his wristwatch.

She turned back to Harry and said seriously, “I’m glad you are feeling better.”

Bill turned and moved a few paces away to chat briefly with a friend.

“Thanks,” Harry whispered with a smile.

The music had stopped now and everyone was getting ready to bid the happy couple goodbye. Bill waited patiently, knowing how important Harry had become to Fleur.

“It weell get better,” she said quietly. “It may get worze before then, but we will celebrate the fall of You-Know-Ooo. And when we do, you will celebrate wiz us.”

Harry found himself unable to respond.

“We ‘ave a very small house, but I would love you to see it. You are welcome to stay wiz Bill and I at any time.”

“Thanks,” he said again.

She kissed him lightly on the cheek and walked over to Bill where they began to say their goodbyes to their guests. Harry stood for a moment but then walked out into the darkening garden.

*

Harry sat on a neglected timber bench seat at the end of the garden. It was almost completely dark now and Harry only found the seat because he had remembered where it was from earlier.

As he sat, he found himself thinking of Sirius and wondering how much Fleur knew. He had to assume quite a lot now, and wondered if she too had been admitted into the Order.

He still felt raw inside about the loss of Sirius, but he had become better at hiding his feelings. His feelings of loss and guilt were compounded by the fact that Sirius was the one person Harry could have spoken to about his feelings. He snorted to himself, amused about the irony.

Harry wondered, as he had done so often lately, whether he should confide his feelings with Ron. He quickly decided, again, that he could not. He was glad to count Ron as his best friend, but recently he had felt distanced from Ron. Besides, he wasn’t sure he could confide in someone who had spent most of the day in hiding.

He knew he could confide in Hermione. She had wanted him to talk to her ever since they got out of the Hospital Wing, and yet something held him back. Something about the look she had given him when he’d asked her to dance and before then when he’d complimented her on her looks. He was sure she didn’t want his attentions. He’d embarrassed her.

“Mind if I join you?”

Harry gave a start. Ginny sat down next to him and placed the small candleholder she was carrying on the armrest of the seat. The flickering candle lit only a small area in front of them. The seat creaked slightly as she got comfortable.

“Sorry if I gave you a shock,” she said apologetically. “Are you alright?”

“F-Fine,” he said sitting up straight, concerned that he had not even noticed her approaching. “I was just thinking.”

“Fleur looked wonderful today, didn’t she,” said Ginny with a sigh.

“How do you feel about giving Bill up?” asked Harry. “I always got the impression you two were close.”

“Well,” said Ginny, “I must admit I didn’t entirely approve of her at first. Actually, I was quite convinced she would dump him when she realised he hadn’t any gold. Maybe he found some.”

Harry laughed and said, “I think Fleur would have married him anyway.”

Ginny smiled and said, “I know. She’s changed her outlook quite a bit. Their new house is tiny, but she loves it. She actually refused to let her mother buy them something bigger.”

“She wanted me to see it,” said Harry.

“So, what were you thinking about?”

Harry looked at Ginny. She was looking out into the darkness. For a moment he considered lying to her.

“I was thinking about Sirius and how I wish I could confide in him now.”

“Me too,” she said simply. “I really couldn’t believe how much I’d come to love him. I could talk to him easier than I could anyone else.”

Harry nodded and realised her eyes were bright in the candlelight.

“Promise me something, Harry?”

“What?” he asked gently.

“Promise you’ll never confide in me.”

Harry was stunned by this request.

“Ginny, I trust you and I refuse to promise never to confide in you,” he said forcibly. “Why on earth would you ever want me to make such a promise.”

She looked at him tearfully.

“I’m scared, Harry. I don’t think he’s gone.”

Harry realised at once who “he” was. It could only be Voldemort.

“You think Riddle is still possessing you?” he asked in a whisper.

She just nodded.

“Tell me exactly why you think that,” he asked calmly.

“I have these nightmares. They’ve been getting worse.”

“Do you have periods that you can’t remember, like last time?”

“No.”

“Well, I don’t think you are being possessed. It is possible though that Riddle left something of himself behind. He told me he used the diary to put a little of himself into you. I think you should speak to Dumbledore about this. Come on, let’s find your Dad. He can make the arrangements.”

Harry stood and offered Ginny his hand but she remained sat down.

“I don’t think you should trust me, Harry.”

“If anything, I trust you more,” he said smiling. “Is this the only thing that’s bothering you?”

“No,” she said miserably.

Harry sat down again and smiled as she wiped her eyes.

“Well, either you can tell me or I’ll just tell you my innermost problems,” he said with a small laugh. “Then you’ll really have nightmares.”

“I’m upset with Ron. He’s being unfair. He has no right to tell me what to do nor to manipulate the situation.”

“Explain what you mean,” he asked gently.

“Ron has made arrangements to me to date someone.”

“I thought you were going out with Dean.”

“No, Harry,” she replied with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. “Dean’s nice but I just told Ron that to wind him up.”

“Oh,” said Harry. “So I assume you’d rather decide for yourself who to go out with.”

“Obviously.”

“Well, I entirely agree. Of course, that’s so long as I approve of who you want to go out with!”

Ginny elbowed him gently and they both laughed.

“I still don’t get why Ron would want to make arrangements for you.”

“Maybe you could talk to him?”

“Sure.”

*

“Ron, are you still awake?” asked Harry. It was very late but Harry couldn’t sleep and he’d just noticed that he hadn’t heard Ron’s gentle snoring.

“Yeah,” replied Ron.

“I spoke to Ginny earlier. She mentioned something about you making arrangements for her to date someone. Is it true?”

“Well, it’s almost true,” Ron admitted.

“Why almost?”

“Because the other party hasn’t agreed yet.”

Harry sighed deeply and rolled over onto his side.

“Ginny deserves to be treated better than that,” Harry said. “She has the right to choose who she goes out with, no matter what you or anyone else thinks.”

“If she were your sister you might think differently,” Ron said flatly.

“Yes, perhaps,” Harry admitted, “but then I’d have my best friend to tell me what an idiot I was being.”

Ron snorted and Harry grinned to himself into the darkness.

“Who did you want her to go out with, anyway?” asked Harry.

“Not saying,” responded Ron. “You do realise you’ll have to help me get out of this mess, don’t you?”

“I guessed as much,” said Harry yawning.

“I’ll speak to Ginny in the morning,” said Ron.

*

“Ginny, why on earth did you to agree?” asked Harry feeling very annoyed with her.

“Ron begged me,” she replied. “He wouldn’t stop until I agreed. He seemed to think it was the only way he could get out of it.”

“But isn’t this precisely what you objected to before?”

“Not precisely, no,” she retorted. “You can always refuse, you know?”

“I told Ron that you deserved to be treated better than this, and I meant it.”

“I don’t mind. Will it be so horrible?”

“No, of course not.”

“Well, we can go along with it for a while,” she said.

“I’ll agree on one condition,” said Harry. “That you will tell me the truth about your nightmares and allow me to help you.”

Ginny looked at him for the first time since they met in the garden.

“First of all,” continued Harry, “you should know that I am not entirely surprised that Ron cooked up this insane scheme of his. I am concerned that you are so ready to go along with it, though. Have you considered the consequences?”

“He just wants us to pretend for a while.”

“I think he wants to put off more than one potential suitor,” Harry said darkly. “He chose me because he thinks I’m safe. Ron knows full well that I haven’t exactly considered you more than a friend or a sister.”

“Maybe it’s time you did reconsider,” she said silkily.

“Ginny, I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” she said smiling. “You can’t blame me for teasing you. Fleur and her mother were gossiping about you yesterday. Gabrielle told me all about it.”

Harry raised his eyebrows.

“So, are we going to play along?” she asked. “I want to know what Ron’s really up to.”

*

To say Harry had misgivings about Ron’s request was quite an understatement. Everything about this arrangement felt wrong to Harry.

Ron’s master-plan was that Ginny and Harry should simply be seen in each others company throughout the entire time that they were visiting Diagon Alley. They should shop together, lunch together and then dine together before returning. Everyone would arrive at the same time and would meet for dinner in the Leaky Cauldron, but otherwise, Harry and Ginny should be seen together on their own.

Harry had been at pains to point out that he was only allowed to go if he agreed to be escorted by the Order. He and Ginny could not be alone and, more importantly, if anything did happen Ginny might get caught up in it.

Whilst Harry was annoyed that Ron didn’t take the risk to Ginny seriously enough for his liking, he inwardly agreed with Ron’s point that if there was trouble, the safest place for Ginny was near to Harry where he could protect her.

Harry’s unease was heightened because Ron insisted that no one else be party to their deception, arguing that people would react differently. Harry felt that no good whatsoever could come from misleading Mr and Mrs Weasley.

The single good thing, Harry realised, was that he would have plenty of opportunity to get Ginny to open up a little more. Harry was no stranger to nightmares and knew better than most how debilitating they could be.

Ginny had asked her father to contact Albus Dumbledore as Harry had suggested, but he hadn’t responded yet.

Early in the evening on the day before they were due to visit Diagon Alley, Harry went looking for Ginny in the garden. He found her in the remote spot they’d spoken at before, sitting on the old bench at the bottom of the garden. In the evening sunset, the ancient timber seat, which was overgrown with climbing plants, was a quiet retreat.

This time it was Harry who gave Ginny a start. She bolted upright as soon as he sat next to her.

“Sorry,” he said gently.

She smiled weakly and rubbed her face. She looked quite exhausted.

“You need to get some sleep,” he said. “If you’re not rested, we won’t be going tomorrow, no matter what Ron says.”

“I’m fine,” she replied.

“You know,” he said, “when I’ve had bad nightmares, I’ve actually been afraid to sleep sometimes.”

She nodded.

“Tell me about them,” he urged, “maybe I can help.”

“Tell me about yours first.”

“No, not until you deal with yours. If I tell you about mine, you’ll only end up adding mine to your own. When I first found out that Sirius was after me, I had nightmares of him laughing maniacally over my parents dead bodies. I had imagined the whole thing, of course, but your mind plays tricks on you when you’re stressed.”

Ginny turned away from him, her face reddening.

“You don’t need to suffer alone like this, Ginny,” he said gently.

She turned back, her eyes full of tears but looking at last ready to talk. Harry waited patiently for her to begin.

*

Harry’s attention had been focussed to highly on listening to Ginny, he barely noticed the dull chink a few feet away. He turned to see Hermione, clearly caught in a quandary.

It looked like she had brought them out two glasses of iced drinks but had only realised she might be intruding at the last moment. She looked like she was hoping to discreetly withdraw, having seen that Ginny was upset.

“It’s okay, Hermione,” he said getting up and coming over.

She looked over at Ginny who was wiping her eyes and mouthed, “I’m sorry,” to Harry.

Harry smiled and said, “We were just talking about Sirius.”

Hermione nodded and offered the glasses to Harry.

“Thanks,” he said. “Will you join us?”

“Um, thanks but I’ve left my drink up at the house.”

Harry nodded and took Ginny’s drink over to her. As they sipped the refreshing juice, Harry contemplated what Ginny had just told him. He was very concerned that she hadn’t received any help or counselling after she left the hospital following her first year at Hogwarts. It was as if no one had considered she might have problems later.

He was quite convinced that a lot of Ginny’s problems were exasperated, firstly by Voldemort’s return and then by Sirius’ death. He believed her when she claimed that before these events, she remembered nothing at all about Riddle’s possession of her.

“Well, I think Dumbledore needs to see you. He may be able to perform Legilimency on you and uncover some of these memories. Riddle may have left them but you might also be imagining them.”

“But they seem so real.”

“Riddle was only sixteen when he made the diary. His experiences must have been limited. I don’t see how he could have witnessed some of the things you described. I wonder if he just imagined them?"

“Harry, what’s it like to have Legilimency done to you?”

“Not nice, but then I had Snape doing it to me,” said Harry. “I would hope Dumbledore could be more sensitive.”

“Could you?”

Harry was surprised by her question.

“I’ve only ever done it once by accident. I’ve never tried on purpose.”

“The thing is, I wouldn’t trust Snape and I’m not entirely sure I trust Dumbledore enough.”

“I know what you mean,” said Harry honestly. “Do you think that performing Legilimency counts as underage magic?”

“Hermione would know,” said Ginny. “Let’s go and ask her now!”

Ginny looked brighter than she had for hours. Harry could not refuse her, although he felt she was headed for a disappointment.

*

“Mr Weasley,” asked Harry seriously, “could I have a word with you?”

“Of course, Harry,” he said putting down his paper. “Um, let’s go to the garage. There are a couple of items I wanted to ask you about anyway.”

A few minutes later the two of them were standing side by side in front of Mr Weasley’s workbench. He reached up to a shelf and brought down a small timber open topped box with some junk inside.

“How can I help?”

“I need some advice.”

Mr Weasley smiled and nodded, his attention concentrated upon Harry.

Harry drew a deep breath and said, “Ginny has been having nightmares and they are getting worse. I got her to tell me about them today and I’m sure that most of it is due to Riddle and the diary. It’s been made worse now Voldemort is back and Sirius is gone.”

“But she didn’t remember anything,” interrupted Mr Weasley, sounding concerned.

“She’s worried Riddle left some his memories in her that she’s now reliving as dreams. They sound pretty extreme and she’s becoming afraid to fall asleep. I suggested that Dumbledore might be able to perform Legilimency to try and get to the bottom of this, but Ginny’s not too happy about it.”

“I agree that might be a solution but why would Ginny be unhappy?”

“Well, I’m not entirely sure. Either Ginny isn’t sure herself or she’s not saying. I think part of it is because she remembers the state Snape left me in when he was supposedly teaching me to perform Occlumency.”

Mr Weasley reacted clearly to Harry’s use of the word “supposedly” but made no comment about that.

“So, what can we do for Ginny?” he asked.

“Ginny has asked me to try Legilimency on her.”

“You can do that?”

“I’ve done it once by accident on Snape, although I’m not sure he knows,” admitted Harry. “Ginny needs help now but I don’t want to make things worse. I know Voldemort and I’m pretty sure I could recognise him in her memories. Will my performing Legilimency be detected as underage magic? The Ministry can’t know that Ginny needs help.”

“I agree,” said Mr Weasley. “I also believe you can help Ginny, but I want you to discuss this with Dumbledore first. You’ll need his guidance. Just so you know, Albus was reluctant to probe Ginny’s memories himself in case he triggered a reaction from Riddle. The only other possibility was Severus and both Molly and myself refused his intervention. Albus was convinced that Ginny would be okay for a few years while we considered an alternative.”

“I wondered why she didn’t receive any help,” said Harry, already feeling a little less hostile to his Headmaster. “When can I see Dumbledore?”

“I’ll contact him now,” said Mr Weasley. “Perhaps he’ll see you tonight. I assume you need to meet in person.”

“Yes,” said Harry, “and Ginny needs to take a potion to dreamless sleep tonight. I also think our shopping trip should be delayed.”

Mr Weasley nodded and was about to leave when he asked, “Is there anything else troubling you, Harry?”

Harry smiled and said, “Plenty, actually. When we have more time I’d like to ask you about a few things. Nothing heavy, but I’d value your opinions if we could talk in confidence.”

Mr Weasley smiled warmly and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Always,” he said gently.

*

Harry was almost asleep when the kitchen fire flared up and out stepped Albus Dumbledore.

“Good evening, Harry,” he said smiling as he dusted himself off.

“Um, hi,” Harry managed to mumble as he forced himself awake. He wiped his hands over his face under his glasses and by the time the kitchen came back into focus, Dumbledore was sitting opposite him examining him closely. Two steaming mugs of cocoa stood on the table between them.

Harry smiled and quietly said, “Thanks.”

Dumbledore picked up his mug, blew gently and sipped. Harry followed suite.

“How’s Ginny?” Dumbledore asked.

“Not good. Her nightmares are getting so bad she’s afraid to sleep.”

“Then its high time we helped her,” said Dumbledore, placing his mug back down on the table. “If you were to perform Legilimency with a wand, the Ministry would know. They are still keeping close tabs on you in that respect.”

Harry sighed despondently.

“However,” said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry’s sudden attention, “if you didn’t use your wand, they might have a few problems.”

“I should use someone else’s wand?”

“No, I believe you should be taking a different approach,” explained Dumbledore. “A wand enables a wizard to perform precise magic, a magic that is very directional and concentrated. With Legilimency, especially in this instance, that won’t help. You don’t really know what direction to look in and far from needing a concentrated approach, what we need is a gentle, non-invasive, generalised investigation.”

“But how then?”

“You have been able to perform limited wand-less magic for some time now, haven’t you?”

“But never on purpose,” protested Harry. “I mean, with any control.”

“The mind is a curious thing, Harry. It develops at its own pace. In your Fourth Year, when you competed in the Tri Wizard Tournament, it can’t have escaped your attention that the abilities of your competitors compared to your own. They were only a few months older and yet it made so much difference. You are older now, Harry. It’s time you acknowledged some of your potential.”

Harry nodded. It was true. The older students had always been able to do magic so advanced he was sure he would never attain the same degree of skills.

“I’m worried I might hurt Ginny,” he said. “Snape’s methods were invasive and aggressive. Ginny couldn’t cope with anything like what he made me go through.”

“Professor Snape’s approach would not be appropriate here, I agree,” Dumbledore said carefully. “However, I must warn you that you may end up causing Ginny additional pain in order to help her. The biggest factor in your favour is her trust in you.”

Harry sighed deeply.

“I’m going to ask you to practise on me in a moment,” said Dumbledore.

“Is that wise?”

“Well, possibly not, but we need to help Ginny, don’t we?” he replied. “Tell me, have you felt Voldemort lately?”

“Not really. I still get twinges in my scar but I’ve not dreamt anything.”

“Nothing at all?”

“No. I’m ashamed to admit it, but it was loosing Sirius that enabled me to perform Occlumency properly at last. I found myself finally completely drained of emotions. It was impossible to feel any more so in the end I felt nothing. Of course, not having Snape drill into my mind helped too.”

“I sensed a change in you when I arrived,” said Dumbledore. “I wish I could say it is a change for the better. It’s your emotions and wits that have helped keep you alive, Harry.”

Harry shrugged.

“Why don’t we make a start,” suggested Dumbledore gently.

*

Harry was pleased to see Ginny looking rested and far happier than the day before. Indeed, it was now Hermione that looked tired and drawn. Harry was sure she’d stayed awake worrying about Ginny.

Harry told Ginny, Hermione and Ron about his visit from Dumbledore.

He told them he would attempt to perform Legilimency on Ginny provided she was sure and Ron and Hermione were present at all times in case they encountered any problems. They were not to use wands no matter what in case the Ministry were alerted. In addition, Dumbledore had insisted that Harry not attempt anything until he had recovered from the previous night’s lesson.

Harry refused point blank to reveal what Dumbledore had allowed him to see. He also warned Ginny that she might see some of his own memories. If that happened, she must never disclose them to others.

At the end of their discussion, Ron brightened up.

“Well, as you can’t do anything for a few hours, we might as well go to Diagon Alley!”

Unfortunately, Ginny had the deciding vote and so they went.

*

Diagon Alley was as bustling as ever. Harry and Ginny bid goodbye to the others as soon as they arrived and made for Quality Quidditch Supplies. Harry was about to suggest they go in for a better look when Ginny objected.

“We won’t be able to see what Ron’s up to if we go inside.”

Harry looked around. Ron didn’t appear to be up to anything. He was already tucking into an ice cream while Hermione chatted to him while reading her extensive booklist.

“Why don’t we go and get our new books,” he suggested. “The bookshop is bound to be the first place Hermione wants to go to.”

They spent most of the rest of the day spying on Ron, and although Harry kept finding excuses to bump into Hermione, Ron didn’t appear to notice they had been following them. He also gave them no clue who or why he’d wanted Ginny to go out with someone.

That evening they all met up for dinner at the Leaky Cauldron. Fred and George joined them and announced that they had something else to celebrate: they were no longer barred. Later that evening, Harry’s prediction that they would be barred again very soon proved to be entirely correct.

*

The next day after breakfast, Ginny pestered Harry until he finally agreed to give Legilimency a try. They all went up to Ginny’s bedroom which was larger than Ron’s.

“When we start, I need Ron and Hermione to keep their distance at first so I can concentrate on Ginny. Don’t try to wake either of us up forcibly, but if you think Ginny is in trouble talk to us both and gently stroke her arms to wake her slowly."

Ginny kicked off her slippers and climbed onto her bed while Harry sat on the floor next to her. Ron and Hermione sat together a short distance away.

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. Soon he was watching the four of them as if he was a dispossessed spirit. He slowly drifted towards Ginny.

*

He was standing in a long, wide corridor. The walls and ceiling were plain white and on the floor was a plain red carpet. The corridor was brightly lit. Next to him was a door. He tried the handle and it turned.

Harry cautiously opened the door and looked inside.

He watched as a montage of memories played out in front of him. These were Ginny’s earliest memories. He watched as an excited two year old listened as her brothers and parents sang Happy Birthday to her. She was comforted by an elder brother, who Harry thought was probably Bill, after falling over. She was walking for the first time into the outstretched arms of her father. She was being held back from joining in a game of exploding snap. She cried as Bill promised he would see her soon and write often from Hogwarts.

Harry saw nothing but love, both Ginny’s for her family and theirs for her.

He closed the door and stepped further down the corridor.

Another door appeared. He looked inside.

Ginny was older now. She was learning to read one of Bill’s letters from Hogwarts. She was having a tantrum for some reason. She was fighting the twins to rescue a doll. She was making cakes for her father and helping her mother about the house. She was playing in the garden. More birthdays and memories of other family birthdays.

These memories were more detailed than the ones before. He closed the door and tried to open the next one.

It was locked but there was a small sliding hatchway at eye level. He slid it open and peered inside.

He did a double take when he saw Platform 9 ¾. This must be the moment Ginny went to Hogwarts. Harry realised he must be getting closer. Perhaps this door contained everything she remembered from when she was writing in Riddle’s diary.

Harry looked closely at the train and the people standing on the platform. He wished he could see closer. Then he suddenly realised something. This wasn’t Ginny’s first year at all. It was his!

The scene changed before him and Harry blushed. This room represented her crush on Harry. He slid the hatch closed and was about to turn when he though he saw movement across the corridor. He turned to look properly, but there was nothing there now. He moved on.

The next door along corridor contained a montage of memories from Ginny’s early years at Hogwarts. He studied them carefully, but saw nothing at all about the Diary nor Riddle.

He exited wearing a small frown and closed the door. Then he noticed there was another door directly opposite and the lantern hanging from the ceiling was out. He stepped into the shadow and immediately shivered from the cold.

Harry quickly crossed and tried to open the door. The door wasn’t locked but Harry struggled to force it open. It was as if an unseen force was struggling to keep the door closed.

Eventually he got the door open just enough to get his shoulder behind it and he was about to heave the door open, when all resistance stopped. The door swung open easily and Harry looked inside.

It was the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry entered the dark, wet chamber. It was exactly as he remembered.

He walked over to where the dead Basilisk had been and wondered why Ginny wasn’t remembering it. This memory wasn’t at all like the others, which tended to fade in and out. Everything here was solid, as if more real.

Hearing a small splash he turned and peered into the darkness.

He hesitated to walk into the shadows. Had he imagined it?

Harry took a few steps forward and then stopped, listening intently. It was almost silent. Almost.

He held out his arms to guide himself in the darkness, and moved on. He assumed he was feeling his way around the back of Slytherin’s enormous statue.

Then at last, he found her.

Ginny was crouching down, apparently too terrified to move or make a sound. He gently reached down to her and pulled her to her feet.

“Ginny, I’ve come to help you,” he said as gently as he could. “Come with me.”

Harry encouraged a very reluctant Ginny back towards the main Chamber. As they reached the light, Harry gasped and grabbed hold of Ginny to prevent her from running.

Before them, several Basilisks, each very much alive, were menacingly patrolling the Chamber. Harry realised that they were probably as solid as the stone they were currently leaning against, and wondered how on earth he was going to get Ginny out of there this time.

There was no Gryffindor Sword or Fawkes to help them this time.

Then it struck him. These were Ginny’s memories.

“Ginny, listen carefully,” he whispered. “I want you to remember back to the time you woke up and we got out of here. Remember Fawkes, Dumbledore’s Phoenix? He sang to us while we left and his showed us the way out to safety, didn’t he. I want you to remember the birdsong. Think of nothing but the Phoenix.”

Ginny stopped shaking but it was a moment before they heard Phoenix-song.

Harry’s heart surged when he heard it. He looked out to see Ginny’s memory of Fawkes, flying around the Chamber. The Basilisks were gone.

“Come on,” said Harry. “Let’s get out of here.”

*

They stepped out into the corridor and the door slammed shut behind them.

Ginny shivered again standing in the shadow but Fawkes flew up to the lantern which lit at once. The shadow was gone.

“Listen Ginny, if ever you have nightmares again, just think of Fawkes. He will come to you. He’ll never leave you here.”

She nodded and walked through another door.

Harry stood at the doorway, smiling. The scene before him was of her bedroom, perhaps a little larger than the one in real-life. Ginny climbed onto the bed and slept. From the top of the wardrobe, Fawkes sang gently to her and lit the room in a warm golden glow.

He closed the door gently and walked back towards the end of the corridor where he’d first appeared. He knew Ginny’s troubles weren’t over, but at least she would begin to recover now. Harry knew that if the Basilisks were alive in her memories, so was Riddle. He was here somewhere.

*

As Harry found himself drifting up from Ginny and back to himself, he paused to watch her. She was asleep and looking relaxed.

Rather than turning towards himself, he moved backwards absently. He didn’t notice that Hermione was no longer sitting next to Ron.

*

Harry found himself standing in a large, high circular room. He looked around in wonder. What on earth could have gone wrong? He was sure he had left Ginny’s mind.

The entire perimeter of the room was divided equally into glazed windows that extended from the polished timber floor right up to the plain white ceiling. The windows were about six feet across and each divided into a number of smaller panes. Between each window were bookshelves that also went right up to the ceiling. There was no exit that he could see.

The sound of a crowd cheering drew him over to one of the windows.

He couldn’t quite believe the sight before him. It looked like the room was actually at the top of a tower, right in the middle of a giant Quidditch pitch. In the distance he could see the crowds cheering in the surrounding stadium.

There were dozens of players flying, all wearing Gryffindor colours. There was no sign of any opposition, not counting the enormous Trolls wandering around the pitch taking swings at the players with their clubs.

Suddenly, one of the players slammed into the window right in front of Harry. The player, bloody and bruised, slid down and out of sight to a great cheer from the crowd.

Harry gulped when he recognised the player. It was him. In fact, now that he looked more closely, all the players were himself. Not only that, all of the players were coming to some very sticky ends. Several were making dives going after an invisible snitch only to crash into the ground where a Troll would hurry over to club them. Some were being knocked out of air by bludgers, whilst other just flew a little too close to a Troll.

From the sound of another dull thud across the room, it sounded like crashing into the windows was a fairly common event.

Harry turned with some difficulty and took a more careful look around the room itself. His suspicions about where he was were then confirmed.

Almost in the middle of room, Hermione was hard at work. She was building what looked like a high circular barricade out of an assortment of books. He walked closer to observe.

Every time “he” would slam into a window outside, the books shook and Hermione turned in agitation to what she was guarding, ignoring the books that had fallen from her defensive wall.

At the very centre of her barricade stood a towering and very wobbly stack of books. The top of the books was too high for her to reach so she had to restrict herself to making small adjustments to keep the book stack in tact. It looked an impossible task.

“Hermione,” he said gently.

“Go away, I’m busy,” she said shortly.

“Hermione, let me help you.”

“No-one can help.”

“I can reach the top, Hermione. Let me in and I can help you. If we make four small stacks instead of one, there’ll be less chance of them toppling over.”

“Go away.”

Harry reached to take down the book barricade when she screamed, “NO!”

He stopped at once.

“I’m not being tricked again,” she said tearfully. “Leave me alone.”

Harry frowned but moved away, not wishing to upset Hermione any more. He allowed his mind to relax and soon found himself drifting high up in Ginny’s bedroom. This time he turned so he could see where he was headed.

*

Harry woke to find a concerned looking Ginny tending to Hermione. Ron had gone.

Hermione was waking, looking confused.

“Hermione, are you alright?” asked Harry with concern.

“Yes,” she replied rubbing her face. “I must have dozed off. I don’t remember being sleepy though. I was just checking on Ginny.”

Ginny looked at him and was about to ask something when Harry quickly shook his head. Thankfully, she understood. He didn’t want to talk about it in front of Hermione.

“Hermione,” she said, “rest here for a few minutes. You look a little pale. I’ll bring you a drink but then you should try and get some sleep.”

Harry waited for Ginny to return but then went out into the garden.

*

Harry sat frowning to himself on the old bench at the bottom of the Weasley’s garden. He found he was less likely to be interrupted here and somehow the garden helped him relax and think.

He needed to think.

His unexpected visit into Hermione’s mind had left him troubled. Harry reasoned that he must have accidentally seen Hermione’s sub-conscience, rather than her waking mind. After all, where were her other memories?

The thing that troubled him most, above all the other troubling things he’d seen, was her words.

What had she meant when she said, “I’m not being tricked again?”

He was brought out of his reverie by Ginny as she sat down next to him.

“Thanks, Harry,” she said smiling. “I should have remembered the Phoenix song.”

He nodded and smiled back.

“Do you remember the corridor?”

“No, what corridor? I just remembered having the start of my usual dream but this time you and Fawkes appeared and the Basilisks were gone.”

“Well, I’m glad,” he said quietly. “If ever you have similar problems, don’t keep them to yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” she promised. “What happened with Hermione?”

“She must have moved and I kind of backed into her while I was returning to myself. Where was Ron?”

“Said he went to the loo.”

Harry snorted gently in annoyance. Ron was supposed to be there to prevent interruptions.

“Still, Hermione appears to be fine now,” said Ginny. “She is okay, isn’t she?”

Harry didn’t answer. He just didn’t know.

*

The next day, Hermione was back to her usual self. At lunch, Harry asked her to join him in the garden.

“Thanks for this Hermione,” he said gently. “I just need to talk something through.”

“Any time, Harry.”

They sat down together on the old bench.

“Is it about Ginny?”

“No, she seems to be fine. You might let me know if she starts to have problems sleeping again, though. It may take her some time to recover fully.”

Hermione nodded and then looked out over the garden.

“I love this garden,” she said absently.

Harry smiled and nodded. “Something about it always makes me feel relaxed when I sit out here.”

“Mm,” agreed Hermione.

“Do you remember your dreams, Hermione?”

“Me? No, not usually. The only one I remember clearly is the one I always have when I’m ill. It’s been the same one I’ve had since I was tiny. The air around me is thick like treacle so I can’t run or move quickly. I have to try and get to the top of the stairs so I can call for my Mum. I usually wake with the same horrible smell in my nose.”

“Wow,” breathed Harry. “How often do you dream that?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Hermione said laughing softly. “I told you, only when I’m ill.”

“I thought my dreams were mad,” said Harry grinning. “I’m not so sure now.”

After receiving an elbow, Harry laughed and said, “Sorry! Okay, I’m sorry!”

Hermione composed herself and smiling asked, “So what did you really want to talk about?”

Harry relaxed, satisfied he wasn’t going to be attacked again, and said, “I heard something when I left Ginny’s mind yesterday.”

“What?”

“Well, you said, ‘I’m not being tricked again.’”

“But I had fallen asleep. It couldn’t have been me.”

“Maybe you were thinking it. I heard it in your voice.”

Hermione’s expression was serious now.

“Please, Hermione, let me help you.”

*

As Harry re-appeared in the circular room, the crowd outside gave a particularly loud cheer. He glanced out of one of the windows. A larger number of Trolls were now using their clubs to hit several bludgers at the players still in the air.

He walked over to Hermione’s book barricade. She was still hard at work.

Harry kicked down the pile of books, ignoring her screams of protest. As he stepped inside she launched herself at him.

He wrapped his arms around her, ignoring her kicks, punches and yells.

“Hermione,” he said gently, “its okay. You don’t need to do this to yourself.”

Realising the chance he was taking, he kicked over the single stack of books standing next to them. She screamed again but he held her tight.

Eventually, she quietened down into a sob.

“Shh,” he whispered soothingly into her ear. “This isn’t the way. I’ll help clear all this up. These books belong on the shelves, not on the floor.”

“They fell out,” Hermione said thickly. “I never had a chance to put them back.”

“Was it the shaking that did it?”

She shook her head no.

“Let’s make a start, shall we?” said Harry releasing her gently and picking up a red bound book with gold lettering on the front. It read, “Harry Potter, Volume XXIV.”

He placed it on one of the low bookshelves and immediately Hermione seemed happier.

*

After what seemed to be several minutes, Harry placed the last blue reference book on a shelf along the perimeter. Somehow the books managed to sort themselves into the correct order on their own.

He turned to see Hermione looking out of a window. Now all the books were returned, she appeared to be far more relaxed.

Harry walked over and put an arm around her shoulders.

“I don’t suppose there’s anything we can do about this game, is there?” she asked.

“One thing at a time,” he replied warmly. “I’m rather glad to see that despite all the injuries I’m sustaining out there, I always manage to crawl away to fly again.”

Hermione tensed as another Harry Potter slammed painfully into the window.

Harry squeezed her shoulders and said, “Keep remembering that I always recover enough to fly again. So long as you’re there for me, nothing will stop me. Not Trolls, not bludgers. I wonder what the score is?”

She elbowed him in the side again and he found himself drifting around the garden.

He looked down. Hermione was sleeping peacefully with her head resting on his chest and his arm wrapped around her.

He suddenly felt an urge to return to himself. He knew just where he wanted to be and he wanted to be there now. He could no longer deny his distraction.

END